#happy day of being visible friends

[peachandpinwheel]

my gender is a restaurant and my pronouns are credit cards. we prefer they/them, but she/her is accepted with a 2% processing fee.

[strawbebyjam]

🧍🏻

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

imgonnagetyouback // mattheo riddle x fem hufflepuff reader

playlist: imgonnagetyouback - taylor swift / get him back! - olivia rodrigo

summary : mattheo riddle does not prank anyone , well asides from you and youve reached your breaking point.

y/n used , hufflepuff reader , swearing , jealousy, fighting , enemies to lovers

masterlist tppd series masterlist

you screamed in horror as cold water splashed down on you , soaking your whole uniform , hair and bag.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" you screeched in pure horror , you looked around the hall in search of a certain smirking face you had come to know all too well.

every student in the hall stared silently , many laughing and some first years looking scared at your angry demeanor. however the one who laughed the most was mattheo riddle , of course.

the boy who has tormented you since first year , endless pranks , endless teasing and zero remorse - mattheo riddle. you dont know what you did to deserve it , but you could easily say it had made you hate the boy more than anyone on the planet. it started with mean nicknames , getting the whole year to call you snotty in first year just because you blew your nose into a tissue in class once. it makes no sense right? completely unprovoked!

"oh dont you just look lovely, baby" mattheo smirked as he walked towards you , holding the bucket he had used to dump water all over you with a simple levitation charm.

"im going you KILL YOU MATTHEO RIDDLE!" you screamed , standing right in front of him and grabbing his collar.

"wow calm down sunshine , its just a bit of water," his smug expression never left his face as he started down at you , his eyes flicking down to your chest where your bra was clearly visible due to your white - soaked - shirt.

you gasped in horror , removing your arms to button up your robe and hide it , " you fucking pervert!"

he held his hands up in defense, "they looked at me first"

"merlin i really really hate you mattheo riddle , rot in hell!" you screamed in his pretty face , running away and pushing past people to get to the hufflepuff common room. mattheos eyes followed you , grinning before walking away when you finally left his sight.

----

"ive got to get him back! hes gotten away with bullying me for too long!" you ranted to your best friend cedric who sat on your bed, listening to the rant he had to endure nearly every day.

"he isnt bullying you y/n , hes teasing you because he likes you," cedric said for the 1000th time since you came back to hogwarts from summer break.

"cedric, hes made my life hell! i hate him and his stuid face GOD!" you groaned.

cedric just stared up at you , bored , "he makes fun of you fir being a hufflepuff right? -you nodded- then charm all his robes to hufflepuff ones then. if hes such a egotistical slytherin that you say he is , he'll hate that"

you grinned excitedly , "yes! his ego is bigger than the whole castle , itd ruin him!"

cedric smiled at your happiness as you hugged him , "thanks ced , love you!"

he laughed as you grabbed your wand and ran out of your dorm , leaving cedric to sigh and get up , following you.

---

the next day your leg bounced in excitement , you had suceeded in making his robes hufflepuff and now it was time to see him angrily burst into the great hall.

"y/n? earth to y/nnn," cedric sang , waving a hand infront of your face , finally catching your attention , "youre gonna make it obvious it was you."

"oh i want him to know it was me , it is so on!" you said quickly , turning back to the enterance of the great hall as cedric sighed in defeat , continuing his talk with the hufflepuff captian.

then a grinning mattheo , wearing a hufflepuff robe and tie walked into the room , looking around until catching your eye and smirking.

you gasped in horror , why is he smiling?!!

you continued to stare at him as a ravenclaw boy walked over.

"like the robes mattheo," the boy said as mattheo smirked.

"thanks my girlfriend got me them , y/n," mattheo said back happily as your face twisted in horror , immediately rising from the hufflepuff table and rushing over.

you stood in front of the smirking slytherin and shook your head at the ravenclaw, "hes NOT my boyfriend dont worry!"

mattheo looked down at you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind , resting his head on top of yours , "oh i am"

you felt heat rush to your cheeks as the ravenclaw boy just nodded in confusion before walking away silently.

horrified you turned around to face mattheo as his arms remained around you , "what the fuck are you doing!!"

"what? you gave me some hufflepuff robes it was clearly a decleration of your little claim on me , love" he smirked at you , playing with your hair with one hand.

"i would rather die! take the robes off!" you shouted as you tried to wrestle the robe off of him , he had no reaction and just smiled at you.

"stripping me down infront of everyone? i didnt see you as the type but im all in, " he said with a wink.

you immediately stopped what you was doing as his hand grabbed yours , pausing your attempt to take off the hufflepuff tie , "stop telling everyone im your girlfriend riddle , its weird!"

"manifestation am i right?" he laughed , bringing your connected hands down as you scoffed.

"youre so annoying!" you shouted in anger , turning around to go sit back down at the hufflepuff table.

"merlin im gonna kill him!" you vented to your friends once you sat down , but they all looked besides you , "what?"

"meeting friends so early , wow we really are going fast!" mattheo grinned next to you.

"go away riddle!" you seethed.

"y/n you dragged him here.." susan said pointing down to your hand still holding mattheos , you gasped in terror and let go quickly.

"go! shoo!" you pushed him away like a wild animal.

"i cant , im a hufflepuff now so im sitting here," mattheo smiled before grabbing a plate and scooping food onto it , resting his arm around your waist.

you stared at him in disbelief , "UGH!".

he simply grinned at you pulling you in closer to him , how you remained for the rest of breakfast.

----

"so i assume you know a certain wild animal called , mattheo riddle , right?" you whispered to the twins who nodded in unision , "well you must know how hes tormented me these past years. i need to get him back."

the twins looked at eachother with smirks , signalling for you to step closer as to not be heard by anyone in the corridor you had rushed them into , "we think the best way for you to get him back is to make him jealous"

"jealous?" you asked in confusion, backing away , "cmon guys youre the kings of pranks please just give me something to make him smell really bad or something-"

"no y/n. first of all thank you but trust us , you want to know the first fight mattheo riddle got into?" george asked as you nodded in intruige.

"it was with a guy that was going to ask you out in third year," fred finished as george cringed recalling the brutal beating.

"what?!" you gasped , "a guy was going to ask me out and that litlle DEVIL ruined it?!".

they both looked at eachother and sighed , "that isnt the point dear y/n. just...just do as we say. you need to get a fake boyfriend - like cedric , and make sure everyone knows. believe us , you will see mattheo riddle just as angry as you are when he pranks you."

you sigh in defeat , "okay. i just need to convince cedric."

they both nodded and stepped back from the secret huddle the three of you had formed , "good giving revenge advice to you little miss hufflepuff, good luck."

you nodded slowly as the three of you walked in opposite directions.

----

"cedric please!! the twins said its the only thing that will work!" you whined as you grabbed cedrics arm , stopping his pacing around your dorm room.

"and i agree with them but why did it have to be me!-"

"ced , youre my best friend , if i had to fake date any guy itd be you." you reassured him as he finally met your eyes.

there was a long pause before cedric sighed in defeat , "fine , but dont you dare kiss me!-"

"cedric i know your first kiss is reserved for miss cho chang , dont worry!" you laughed as he cracked a small smile.

----

over the next few days you made the effort to hold cedrics hand more ,laugh at his jokes more and tell everyone possible how much of a lovely boyfriend he is. the word had travelled pretty fast and the second it reached mattheo riddle his whole damenor changed.

you were currently sitting at the hufflepuff table with your head on cedrics shoudler , facing the slytherin table and a very angry mattheo riddle who tightened his pale fist.

you laughed at susans joke , before hearing an abrupt slam on the slytherin table , no one else seemed to notice or care but you watched in fear as mattheo riddle jumped from the table and stared straight at cedric , beginning to come over.

in a panic you grabbed cedrics face whispering in desperation, "kiss me cedric!"

"what no!" he whisper yelled in horror , finally catching a glimpse at the fuming riddle heading his way as he gulped at the sight, "why!?"

"the weasley twins told me when he reaches a breaking point we have to , please! i have to get him back after all these years!"

cedric sighed in frustration , "you owe me!"

you nodded as you both moved closer to eachother , lips about to touch until -

cedric got roughly dragged from his seat on the bench , mattheo holding his robes and punching him.

you gasped in suprise not having truly thought of the consequence a raged mattheo would have on cedrics safety , jumping up from the table you watched cedric land a punch on mattheo face.

you cringed at the sight as you tugged on mattheos arm , finally pulling him away from cedric.

"get off of him mattheo!" you shouted.

"tell him to get off you first! ill fuck you up golden boy diggory-!" mattheo shouted at him as cedric attempted to jump back onto him , resulting in you stomping out of the hall , dragging mattheo along with you.

----

finally getting to your dorm you opened the door and shoved mattheo in , slamming the door behind you.

he staggered slightly before you pushed him down on the bed , pacing around the room as he sat and watched.

"what the fuck were you doing!" you exclaimed.

"i was teaching that dickhead a lesson!-" he argued back , being cut off by you pointing a finger in his face.

"DONT call ced a dickhead!" you screamed.

"ced?! CED?! fucking hell he even has a nickname, " he scoffed sourly.

"hes had a nickname for years , hes my bestfriend!".

"yeah cause bestfriends kiss eachother and tell everyone theyre dating right?!" he shouted back.

you paused at this suddenly realising why he had fought cedric in the first place , because of your stupid plan you only now realised was never going to end well.

turning to look mattheo in the face you silently walked towards him , stopping infront of him as he looked up at you. you stared down at him, noticing the bleeding cut on his cheek and running to grab your first aid things in your drawer.

you stood infront of him again, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look up at you allowing you a view of the cut as you grabbed a band-aid from the small box. he watched you with softened eyes as you wiped the cut softly and delicatly placed the band-aid.

"im sorry," you whispered letting go off his chin as his hands went up to your hips , pulling you in between his knees, "i had this stupid plan of getting back at you - the weasley twins told me youd get really angry if i pretended to date cedric. i guess i only just realised why you got so angry."

"why did i get so angry?" he asked softly , wanting to hear you say it.

"you love me." you whispered as he bit back his smile.

"since first year.... i guess im just not good at showing it." he sighed.

"dont mattheo , its my fault too , i was way too oblivious to your feeling and my own feelings . if i realised earlier then this wouldnt have happened-"

"wait. you....have feelings for me?" he asked with hope and desperation.

you paused before nodding , "if i hadnt liked you the whole time i wouldnt have continued to interact with you. i definetly wouldnt have let you hold my hand or my waist. i wouldnt have put in so much effort to get you back... i just didnt realise that througout this whole thing , you were the only person i tolerated teasing me for years."

he chuckled , "i wouldnt say tolerated , i ended up with a few bruisies."

you both laughed at this as he stood up , now towering over you, "im sorry for fighting cedric....and every guy who asked you out in the past."

"i always found it weird they ended up in the hospital wing and ghosting me the day after," you laughed.

he shrugged ,"i couldnt just watch you be with someone else, the thought of it literally tears me apart."

"yeah well youre not alone , remember when that ravenclaw girls hair turned neon yellow after you went on a date with her?" he nodded slowly , "yeah that was me."

he howled with laughter at your confession , remembering the scream of the girl when her hair transformed the day after his date with her.

"youre not alone either , i only went out with her to make you jealous," he confessed too.

"i knew ittt" you sang as he scoffed.

"no you didnt!"

"youre right i didnt," you shrugged.

once his laughter stopped he rested his hand on your cheek , "lets make a deal , no more pranks and no more fights."

you nodded.

"when youre angry with me just...kiss me" he said looking from your eyes to your lips as they pulled into a smile and crashed into his.

first year you is gagging in disgust.

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: The other Pillars are convinced Tomioka has something against the latest Hashira, but have no idea your husband is simply looking for you during your pregnancy. A/N: I think something glitched when I was making the header...didn't crop properly. Anyway, enjoy this trash and I'm sorry if it's not up to my usual standard but I just got the random idea in the middle of the night! WARNINGS: Fem Reader, pregnancy MASTERLIST/PREVIOUS FICS

Everyone was convinced Tomioka Giyuu hated you right from the start.

You were first introduced to the Hashira when Oyakata-sama called them all for a meeting on the latest reports of demon activity, but requested them all to stay a little longer before being dismissed. Amane gestured for you to come forward with a gentle smile and you shuffled out of the shadows with your hands clasped together in nervousness but with a bright bream upon your face. The Hashira’s eyes caught yours in surprise, wondering if you were perhaps a new Kakushi since you weren’t wearing a slayer uniform, but instead a traditional (f/c) yukata.

Then their eyes strayed downwards and changed their minds about that, but nonetheless still remained in confusion.

“This is our newest member, (y/n) (y/l/n), the (b/f) Hashira. She was supposed to join our ranks quite some months ago but due to her sudden pregnancy she will for now be an honorary member.”

The only sign of your anxiety was the blush on your cheeks and the hand rubbing at your swollen abdomen. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to meet you all! I won’t be on the battlefield for some time and I’m sorry I can’t fight alongside you for now, but I look forward to getting to know you all. If you need anything, I’m always at the (e/n) Estate.”

The ice was broken and you were immediately approached by many of the Hashira. Himejima-san cried and wished you and your child good health, making you feel a little embarrassed but thanked him anyway. The Mist Pillar Tokito simply stared at you, then at the sky, then at you again before asking what were you doing here again (later on, he startled you by appearing behind and questioning you in that airheaded manner of his if he could talk to the baby).

You were also tackled by the Love Pillar who introduced herself as Kanroji Mitsuri and your new best friend as well as the calmer Insect Pillar, Kocho Shinobu, who despite slightly unnerving you with her smile touched you greatly when she said you could always stop by the Butterfly Mansion for checkups or simply a visit.

“How far along are you?”

“About five months, I think!”

“KYAAAAAAAAAAH! Your baby is going to be so cute! What’s it’s name? Do you know if it’s a he or a she yet? I can’t wait to be an aunt!”

“Heh, I’m not too sure yet, but I have a feeling it’s going to be a boy!”

Mitsuri squealed again, causing you to laugh at her genuine happiness. She whipped her head behind her and called out to the silently glowering Snake Pillar. “Iguro-san, don’t you think the baby will be cute? I really wish I’ll have some of my own one day!”

You and Shinobu shared a smirk as the Wind Pillar grumpily slapped his friend’s back and dragged the furiously red Iguro away, muttering viciously about not wasting any more time in hunting a Twelve Kizuki.

“Oh look, there's Tomioka-san. Why hasn't he come and said hello yet?”

“Ah well, a lone friendless wolf as always.” Shinobu didn't see you originally visibly brighten at Mitsuri’s words and turn surprised at hers.

Indeed Tomioka was standing awkwardly as always a little - long, actually - way off. What was not as always was that horrified, slack jawed look on his face instead of his usual blank, emotionless one.

“Tomioka-san? Are you alright? You've been making that face for a long time already…” Shinobu's eye twitched, but you didn't notice, suddenly preoccupied with Muichiro’s intense questioning of whether he could play with the baby when it was born.

“She shouldn't be a Hashira.”

The remaining Hashira found themselves narrowing their eyes at the Water Pillar's blunt, if not rude, words.

That would be just one of the many events that further convinced them of his intense dislike of you.

***

You started going over a lot to the Butterfly Mansion over then next few months, becoming a fast favorite among the girls for your cheerful attitude and your baby; even Kanao cracked a smile at you when you came around. When the other Hashira arrived to be healed you always made it a point to go pay them a visit and in turn you pretty soon had every one of them in your back pocket, including the harsh, loudmouthed Wind Pillar Shinazugawa who constantly gave you a jolt with the complete 360 with his attitude around you, to the point you could call him a good friend.

Being friends with him usually meant hearing him grumble about the stupid waterboy.

“Why doesn’t he ever look at you anyway, turning away like that. So rude, that little (beep) (beep) (beep)-”

“Eheh, Shinazugawa-san, don’t swear so loudly, he’ll hear you!”

You had stopped by to Sanemi’s room when Shinobu had mentioned he was there to be patched up after a mission and knowing how busy she was, had offered to go help change his bandages with the basic medical knowledge you had picked up over the years of being a slayer. Reluctantly she had agreed and so here you were, chatting away with him until he spotted Tomioka passing by (he poked his head in actually, otherwise Sanemi would never have noticed him) and started complaining about him once more, especially when you had called out to him and Tomioka had simply whipped his head to the side to stare into the distance.

Really, Sanemi wasn’t the only one to notice how Tomioka avoided you like the plague with that stupid, vacant, red expression of his.

“He’s just shy, he doesn’t mean to be rude!” You defended the poor Pillar, continuing with rewinding the new wrappings.

“Tch, you should see how he acts at the meetings, like he’s better than us or something,” was the growling reply. “(beep) doesn’t know how to (beep) talk with anyone with his (beep) attitude.”

“I don’t think he thinks he’s better than all of you, maybe it’s just something else,” You hum, finishing up. “That’s all! I’m glad the demon didn’t go any further than a scratch.”

Shinazugawa grunted, then his gaze caught yours and softened. “By the way, who’s the dad?”

“Oh, it’s -”

“(y/n)-san!” Three heads peeked in from the door shyly. “Can you come and play with us?”

“Of course! Bye, Shinazugawa!”

Like always the reply was only a “tch”.

***

Another thing was that he never stopped repeating what he said at the first time everyone met you: “She shouldn’t be a Hashira”, going as far as to attempt to prevent you from wielding a sword, although this was only noticed by Tanjiro.

You had agreed to the Kamaboko Squad’s requests (aka demands by Inosuke and begging from Zenitsu) to train together, despite Tanjiro’s worries which you brushed off. The boys were very rambunctious and did tire you out quite a bit, but you were having so much fun and they were so eager you just went on sparring with them until even Inosuke muttered a plead for a quick break, unable to beat your incredible swordsmanship.

“(y/n)-chan!!! Who’s the lucky guy you married?! You never told us and I want to know how he managed to score someone so beautiful like you so I can do it with Nezuko-chan!” Zenitsu simpered, scooting closer, ignoring Tanjiro’s scandalized look.

“What’s married?” Inosuke’s voice was muffled underneath his boar mask and the mountain of onigiri you had brought he was stuffing into his mouth, so none of you heard him.

You giggle, placing a hand on your stomach. “He’s very sweet, although he’s honestly very shy and doesn’t talk much. I’m sure you’ve met him before! Can you guess?”

“Woah, really?” Tanjiro brightened, wondering who it could be, but his next question was interrupted by an interrogative monotone.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be training.” Tomioka stood in front of them, the first time anyone had seen him interact with you without just staring at the ground. His face was as empty as the void but there was a tiny crease between his eyebrows and Tanjiro didn’t have to inhale to smell the worry reeking off him.

“I didn’t know you were so concerned about (y/n)-chan, Tomioka-san.” Zenitsu’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his hair while he glowered judgmentally.

Tomioka made no reply, only swiftly grabbing and removing the sword from your hand. “She shouldn’t be a Hashira, much less train. You nearly died fighting a demon not too long ago, you’re in no shape to be doing this.”

With that he abruptly walked off and left Zenitsu and Inosuke to scream at him for being such an un-gentleman and for not fighting with them while you looked away sadly.

Tanjiro wondered why he didn’t once smell dislike on Tomioka. Only fear.

***

“What’s he got against (l/n)?” Obanai joined in on the conversation from his perch on the tree. He’d look for reasons to hate against the Water Pillar all the time, but unlike the others this time round his hatred was justified.

Tengen rolled his eyes flamboyantly. “I know! He’s constantly acting like she’s a pest to be around, but she doesn’t seem to have beef with him. What’s wrong with that bland creature?”

“Oh come on! We don’t actually know if he hates her,” Rengoku protested mildly.

“Then why does he keep refusing to even make eye contact with her?”

“I mean, Iguro, you can’t talk, you only ever look at Kanroji” - Obanai turned away, blushing furiously as Tengen cackled - “but I get your point. The other day I walked in on them arguing. I can’t believe he would keep reminding her of past failures without keeping her current state in mind!”

“Perhaps he only wants to try and convince her to stay safe during this time and discourage her from slaying for now?”

“Rengoku, my best buddy, you’re too optimistic.”

“There’s no other reason he’d give her the cold shoulder 24/7.”

Soon the conversation drifted to other topics, but little would they know Rengoku was the closest to the truth…

***

Shinobu already had enough on her hands with all the screaming, panic and blood, but of course Tomioka just had to show up at the most inopportune moment.

It had been a relatively quiet day as the two of you sat on the engawa, exchanging war stories over tea when with a sudden cry you had doubled over in pain. Your water had broken and you were heading into labour - quickly.

Just barely the Insect Pillar had managed to get you to a bed and sent the Butterfly Girls scurrying for the necessities, hiding her uneasiness at the slight earliness of your boy’s arrival to keep you calm and help you through it. You were doing well under her coaxing to use Total Concentration Breathing, and thankfully Shinazugawa was still around to help you relax with a familiar face.

Then Aoi had burst in with a frantic expression and thundering footsteps from behind that certainly weren’t hers.

“Shinobu-san, Tomioka is demanding to be let in-”

“Keep him out!” Shinobu grimaced, returning her attention to you. She’s heard and seen what he’s like around you, and other than the fact he has no business to be here she didn’t want to send you into a further state of panic. “He doesn’t like her, and if he opens that mouth of his to say anything more I might be responsible for two deaths.”

You dug your nails into Sanemi’s proffered hand, screaming in pain. He winced but said nothing, only looking up with a determined look in his eyes at Shinobu. “I’ll go keep Tomioka out, just make sure she delivers safely.”

Without waiting for a reply Sanemi rushed out to bar the doorway, leaving Shinobu to assure and handle your birthing with the anxious assistance of the Butterfly Girls. The pain in your stomach was surely abominable, intolerable, and Shinobu found herself growing more alarmed with every minute the baby wasn’t coming out.

“(y/n), I need you to push harder, alright? Can you do that for me?”

“N-no - where is he?”

“Your husband? I’ll get someone to call him, don’t worry,” Shinobu lied with dawning horror that in the entire time she had known you…she had no actual idea who you were married to. “But he wouldn’t like you see you like this, right? You can do it. Just keep your breathing under control.”

“JUST (beep) OFF, TOMIOKA!” Shinazugawa’s voice bellowed through the Mansion. His stocky form soon appeared, stubbornly acting as an indomitable barrier against the equally stubborn Tomioka who was desperately trying to barge his way through.

“Tomioka, we don’t need unnecessary people here to worry (y/n) more-”

”THAT’S MY WIFE!”

Whether it was because Tomioka had never raised his voice before or the sheer shock of it all or the fact you reached out for his hand, Shinobu and Sanemi let him through.

***

“I thought I was going to lose you when I heard you screaming like that from outside.” Giyuu nuzzled deeper into your neck, absently stroking your baby’s tiny hand. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

You played with the strands of his hair with a teasing smirk. “You did to, banging into the room like that, with the “That’s my wife!”. It was very romantic of you, Giyuu~”

“I was in a rush.” Giyuu smacked his face into the pillow, embarrassed while you laugh.

“Ara ara~ Are you both done cuddling? I want to perform a quick checkup on your baby now, if you don’t mind, and all the Hashira are here to ask you a lot of things, Tomioka.” Shinobu stood at the doorway with her customary smile, a twitching eye and crossed arms. Behind her were the shadows of the others trying to peek over her shoulder or head into the room to congratulate you on your baby or beat up Tomioka (both for some).

“Ask about what?” Giyuu lifted up his head in confusion. You snort at his obliviousness, cooing at your precious sleeping baby before gently passing him to Shinobu.

“MAYBE ABOUT HOW (Y/N) IS YOUR WIFE AND YOU NEVER TOLD US?”

“KYAAAAAAAAAH! That’s so cute of you, Tomioka!”

“Do you hate us all or something?!”

“No…? No one asked and I thought (y/n) would have told you,” Giyuu said blankly, glancing at you with wide blue eyes. You sheepishly raised your shoulders.

“I tried to tell them but we kept getting interrupted or had no chance.”

“You did make us all think you hated (y/n) with your behaviour, Tomioka.” Shinobu raised an eyebrow. “After all, you rarely spoke to her and when you did it was only to reprimand her, but I can see now it was probably out of worry for your child and her…although rather harshly.”

“Oh!” You burst out laughing, shaking so hard you nearly couldn’t take back your awakening baby Shinobu was handing over. “Giyuu’s just very shy! See-”

You pressed a quick peck to his cheek.

giyuu.exe has stopped working.

[hattiewritesalot]

Awake

Azriel x fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel is undeniably furious, especially considering the fact that Y/N has yet to wake up. But, when she does, what will become of their relationship?

Warnings: Vomiting, mentions of Az wanting to kill people for his bbg, very fluffy. Bit of hurt/comfort for both Azriel and Y/N

A/N: Here is part two of Poison (which, btw, thank u for all the support I've been getting on it 😭). feel free to send in requests for acotar bc I'm bored<3

---------------------------------------------------------------

Azriel doesn’t think he’s ever been angrier in his entire life.

He’s supposed to stay calm and collected, every inch the mysterious spymaster, but not even the strongest sedative could settle the rage brewing in his chest. His shadows curl menacingly around his limbs, the black essence seeming to share his fury.

Rhysand sighs, rubbing his temples. Feyre stands behind him, probably to offer some form of comfort. They both adore Y/N. They’ve practically adopted her with how much they coddle and coo at her, despite her loud laughter and complaints whenever they do.

Cauldron, what Azriel wouldn't do to hear that laugh right now. 

It’s been three days. Y/N is not awake. His mate is not awake.

Rhysand finally looks up at Azriel. “We’ve got answers, at least.” Before Azriel can interrupt, he keeps talking. “Beron has admitted to poisoning Y/N. He figured that if he targeted her, we’d crumble. Not because she’s the strongest, but because she’s the most… beloved, daresay. He didn’t think we’d hit back, and he thought he’d be able to crush us with this crack in our defences.”

Azriel’s scarred knuckles are alabaster from how hard he’s gripping the arms of his chair. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would he just admit it?” The High Lord of Night takes a deep breath.

“He found it funny.” The noise that tears from Azriel’s throat is completely inhumane, and completely unlike him. He storms to the door, but Cassian’s strong arms hold him back, urging him to stay calm, urging him to breathe. He can’t. He’s gone past being angry, and he’s gone past blaming it on the new mating bond.

Y/N is his best friend. He’d die and kill for her, he’d steal the moon and stars if it meant she’d be happy. The Mother’s bond can go and fuck itself, because the one he’s already got with Y/N will always be stronger.

“I’ve arranged a meeting with Eris Vanserra.” Rhys’ firm voice cuts through the haze of rage. “He says he has plans, and that this event has solidified his desires. I may be unable to tell you what comes of the meeting, but I guarantee that Beron will suffer for what he did to Y/N.”

Mate. Awake. He almost doesn’t realise what his shadows are whispering to him. Awake. Eyes open. Vomit. GO. He chokes, and desperately tries to break free of Cassian's grip. He needs to see her. He needs her to be okay. “Az, Rhys just said-”

“I know what he just said!” Azriel hates the way his voice is more of a sob. “She’s awake- she’s- please, let me go to her!”

A shadowsinger shouldn’t beg. He shouldn’t grovel. He should attack.

But he doesn’t, because he knows that Y/N is far more important than any conflict he could have with Cassian right now.

And, besides, Cassian lets him go. He’s never run so fast in his life. His feet are barely on the ground, legs and shadows and wings working in tandem to get him there as soon as possible. He thinks he might be the one vomiting in a minute.

Rhys groans. “I know they’re close, but he’s going to drive me insane before I even have this meeting.”

But Feyre, ever the observant High Lady, stares at his retreating form, hand squeezing Rhys’ shoulder. “Give him time. I’m sure he’ll cool off, when he knows she’s safe.” A small smile quirks up at the corners of her lips, knowing exactly why Azriel is so worked up.

---------------------------------------------------------------

His chest heaves as he pushes the door open, but then it’s filled with warmth. Alive. She’s alive, and upright, and very visibly pissed off but it’s okay because she’s alive.

“The one time I drink something that isn’t champagne-” she croaks out. “-and it turns out to be fucking poisoned. If that’s not my luck I don’t know what is.”

Azriel can’t control the desperate sob that bursts from his lips as he clambers onto the bed, pulling her into his chest. She’s sweaty, and feverish, and she’s just puked into the bucket next to the bed, but he’ll be damned if he cares. She’s alive. He buries his face in her hair, arms and wings squeezing her so tightly it makes her squeak.

“Alright big guy, I’ve just been sick, let’s not try and go for round two.” Her tone is teasing, joking, but the moment he pulls away, her face falls. “Az…” she murmurs, moving her fingers up to wipe his tears. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he spits, sobbing again. “What’s wrong!? You were fucking poisoned! You’ve been puking and coughing and writhing and screaming ever since you got here, and you’ve been out for three days. Three whole days- where- I didn’t know if you were dead, I didn’t know if you-”

“Az.” her tone is a bit firmer now, thumbs pressing against his lips. “I’m okay. I’m gonna be okay. I’m here, I’m breathing, and I’m going to be fine. Breathe.” 

He heaves a deep breath, clutching her so tightly his fingers make indents on her skin. If she notices, she doesn’t care. “You’re… okay.”

“I’m okay.” She smiles. Her lips are cracked and slightly discoloured, but he’s missed her little smile so fucking much. “Come on, Az, you know me. Tough as nails.” She flexes her arms, and Azriel snorts.

“There’s nothing there. You should really stop skipping training.” “No! You’re always a dick to me in training!”

“Yes, because Cassian’s about as mean as a wet sponge, and it isn’t potty training, it’s battle tactics.” She scoffs. “Whatever, whatever.” And he grins, and hugs her again, trying to engrave the memory of her wrapped up in his arms into his brain, just to keep there forever. “Azriel?” He hums in response. “I- so, you know a couple days back? When... this... happened, and I was just about to fall asleep?” She swallows. “I think I felt something… snap.”

His heart pounds in his chest. “The bond? You felt it too?”

“Uh- yeah.” She looks up at him, big eyes blinking up at him like a doe, her face so sweet he wants to coo. “Are you disappointed? That it’s me?”

That makes Azriel frown. How could he be disappointed? She’s everything and more, anyone can see that. Even if he pushes aside the fact that she’s drop-dead gorgeous, she’s got a brain to match it. She’s quick and clever and sassy in a way that rivals even his own spunk. If anything, she should be the disappointed one.

“No.” he says, brows furrowing. “Y/N, sweetheart, you mean the world to me. How could I be disappointed?” He wants to catch all of the butterflies in his stomach and lock them away forever, because they're making him woozy. “Are- are you?”

“Am I?” her tone is confused, almost shocked. “Az- Az, I’ve been into you for, like, forever. I’m not disappointed. I could never be disappointed, not with you.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, blinking, suddenly coming to terms with the fact that this bond has, for lack of better wording, startled them. They’ve always prioritised everyone else over them, always considered others' needs and benefits above their own, but they’ve never had the chance to fully acknowledge themselves. Maybe that’s what made them so alike. Maybe that’s why the Mother paired them together, knowing that amidst the sarcastic comments and teasing touches, the sturdy roots of their relationship came from their unwavering trust and care for one another.

Azriel’s hand moves to Y/N’s clammy forehead, softly pushing the hair away from her face. Despite everything that’s happened in the last few days, she’s still her, and he’s still him. Nothing is ever going to change that.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispers. She rolls her eyes. “I’ve got a raging fever, I’m drenched in my own sweat, I just threw up and you’re calling me beautiful?”

He laughs, oh, by the Cauldron, he laughs. “You could be a corpse and you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“That’s necrophilia, Az. Pretty sure that’s illegal.”

“You’re hilarious, sweetheart.”

“Is that why you fell in love with me?”

“Okay, who’s saying I’m in love with you?”

“Me.” and she grins, nudging her nose against his. “Because I am not only hilarious, but also very observant.” He lets out a little hum in response, scarred fingers still twisting in her hair. Everything’s perfect, because they’re not. Their imperfections are intertwined, just like their souls, and the knowledge the other will always be there to love them is all they've ever wanted.

Azriel’s eyes flit down to her lips, and then he’s leaning in, and she’s doing the same, and-

She pulls away, wincing. “I puked about five minutes ago. I don’t think you want to kiss me right now.”

He rolls his eyes, tipping her chin up. “Y/N L/N, I have waited at least two centuries for the opportunity to kiss you. Don’t stop me now.” And he presses his lips to hers. It’s gentle, soft, sweet. Everything he feels around this girl.

“You’re gross.” She mumbles.

“That’s what love does to you.” 

“And you’re a sap.” She grins. “I suppose you’re lucky I love you, even if you are going soft for me.”

“Shut up, sweetheart.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

@topaz125 @starryhiraeth @nahminae @quiettuba @thecraziestcrayon @honeywithemoney @marvelsmylife @sunny1616 @lilah-asteria @emryb @i-am-infinite @st4r-girl-official

my loves ty for ur support! :)

[starkwlkr]

Could I request a Hugh Jackman x Reader (in the same universe you have set up with their 3 kids, I love that sm) Where the reader is pregnant with their first baby (Alex iirc) and they haven't told anyone, but there'a rumors, so the paparazzi swarm Hugh and Reader, trying to get a good picture of any supposed baby bump so they can break the news and Hugh gets super protective-

little secret | hugh jackman

an: thanks for the request!! we finally get some baby alex even if he technically isn’t born in this fic lol BUT OMG THIS GIF IM DEAD DYING GONE

1999

When Hugh told you the news that he had gotten the part of Wolverine, you were so happy for him. In a few months, he would leave to go get fitted for his costume, train, film. You weren’t worried, but Hugh was.

You were pregnant with your first child and he obviously didn’t want to leave you alone. You assured him you and the baby would be fine. You had friends and family that called and visited you regularly so technically you weren’t alone.

After two months of being away from each other, you finally made a visit to the set. You were amazed with everything from the props to everyone’s costumes. It wouldn’t take long for you to join the same hero universe, just with a different team.

Your bump was somewhat visible. Only your families and close friends knew. And now, of course, Hugh’s new cast mates knew. Halle and Famke were so happy to finally meet you and your bump.

“Oh, you guys are going to be the best parents! Do you know the gender?” Halle asked.

“It’s a boy.” You confirmed with a smile.

“His name is going to be Alex.” Hugh added.

For a while, only a couple knew about baby Jackman. You weren’t taking any acting jobs at the moment and the media was starting to wonder. Did you retire? Or maybe it was a short break? You went from wearing your normal clothes to wearing Hugh’s clothes or oversized sweaters. It didn’t take long for talk show hosts to start theorizing about your sudden change in wardrobe.

You didn’t pay attention to the media. You hardly did. It didn’t phase you until one day when you were out with Hugh on a walk in Los Angeles. It was a day off for him and a walk seemed like a good idea at the time. Both you and Hugh wore sunglasses. Since it was sunny out, you wore a flowy dress. Again, your bump was somewhat noticeable, but you didn’t think the paparazzi were going to shove cameras in your face. You just wanted a peaceful day with your husband.

“We should’ve stayed in bed.” You whispered to Hugh. You were currently in a clothing store with Hugh. The paparazzi weren’t doing a very good job of hiding, they were waiting outside for you ready to capture pictures.

“I would say let’s make a run for it but I don’t want you or Alex to get hurt.” Hugh placed a kiss on your lips.

“Let’s go home. I’ll just put my bag over my stomach.” You sighed. So much for having a peaceful day …

So after paying for your items, Hugh took your hand and made sure you were ready to face the flashing lights. He made sure you were ready before you headed out.

Immediately the flashing lights hurt your eyes. This was hell.

“Show us the bump!”

“Is it a girl? A boy?”

“Can I get a picture of the bump?”

Hugh held you close to him. When it came time to protect you and the baby, he was ready to fight whoever got too close. Eventually you made it to the car. Hugh made sure to get you in first so he walked with you to your side and opened the door, letting you in quickly. Still the paparazzi followed. After shutting the door, Hugh warned the paparazzi to not get any closer.

“Just show us the bump!” A man said.

“Shut the fuck up!” Hugh pushed past the paparazzi and walked to the driver’s side of the car. If it were legal, he would’ve definitely run someone over. “You alright, love?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath in. “You think we’ll make the cover? I think ‘baby on board!’ is going to be the headline.” You joked, cracking a smile.

[moonstruckme]

A Christmas Special

summary: after Christmas Eve at Remus' flat, thick snowfall prevents you from going home. He's more than happy to host you

cw: mentions of alcohol, smut mdni, p in v, oral (fem receiving), praise, inexperienced reader, shy little idiots in love

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 11k words

Remus isn’t sure entirely how he’d gotten strongarmed into hosting Christmas Eve at his flat. James and Lily usually host, but James claimed that this year their house was in too much a state of “baby mayhem” to have any hope of being tidied enough for a gathering. He’s said it in such a lovesick voice Remus couldn’t push back for long, his friend’s happiness so potent it was like looking into the sun. Sirius had begged off quickly, saying that his “bachelor pad” was too small to have a group over. As usual, when Remus spoke last, the matter was settled before he’d gotten the chance to have much of a say. 

He’s made an effort to live up to the hosting legacy passed onto him by the Potters, but it’s a flimsy attempt at best. Thankfully, the snowfall outside is doing a fair amount of the work for him. Remus’ street is coated in fresh, gleaming powder, enough that the trees look weighted down with it and his neighbor had put her little dog in a knit sweater to go into the yard and do its business. It’s still coming down, the snowflakes visible in crisp contrast against the darkening sky as they drift lazily to the earth. 

Inside Remus’ home, the Christmas tree is nearly covered in tinsel to make up for his scant supply of ornaments, he’s run out of stockings to put up above the fireplace and has had to use one large sock (that one will have to be for Sirius), and he’s still stringing up popcorn when a knock sounds on the door. 

Remus is surprised (he’d told everyone to come at six, but that was only because he didn’t think anyone would actually show up until a couple hours after), but that dies away when he unbolts the door and opens it to find you on the other side. 

“Hi,” you say, teeth nearly chattering as Remus ushers you inside. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was worse than I expected.” 

“It’s hardly fifteen after six.” Remus takes your coat, tsking. “People do seem to become worse drivers around the holidays, don’t they?” 

“Well, I suppose not everyone on the road tonight might be used to driving in the snow,” you allow, ever forgiving. 

Remus smiles. “Merry Christmas, love.” 

Your face is already flushed from the chill outside, but he could swear it goes pinker as you unwrap your scarf, smiling back at him. “Merry Christmas.” You’re merry as can be, cheeks dimpling and eyes sparkling under the twinkling lights Remus is suddenly very glad he decided to purchase for the occasion. “Where is everyone?” 

“Well,” Remus says, heading back for the couch, “Sirius is hitching a ride with James and Lily, so if I had to guess I’d wager that James is just putting the finishing touches whatever food he’s decided to bring while Lily tries to rush him out the door. And then they’ll go to Sirius’ place and have to wait for him to finish wrapping the presents he undoubtedly just remembered today.” 

You sit beside him with a half-exasperated laugh. “I was thinking I’d be the last one here,” you admit, “but I’d forgotten how they can be when it comes to events.” 

Remus shrugs. “Easy to forget.” Lily is usually able to marshal James and Sirius most places on time these days, but the frenzy when they actually have things to prepare is inevitable; Remus has learnt to account for it. He reclaims his half-finished string of popcorn, clumsily stabbing the needle into another kernel and wincing when it goes through easier than expected, pricking his finger. 

“Oh no, did you hurt yourself?” you lean over, trying to see his hand. 

“No, just a scratch.” Remus has about a billion of them by now. He’s far from coordinated on a good day, but the unwise decision to have coffee earlier has resulted in shaky hands that make working with a needle somewhat hazardous. 

You watch him try again, and it’s really the distraction of your cute frown more than anything else that messes him up. His needle goes through the fluffy edge of the popcorn, stabbing him and giving the string hardly anything to hold onto in the process. The flake falls to his lap for his efforts. 

“Remus, your hand’s not a pincushion,” you say, and you weren’t yourself he’d almost think you were chiding him. You reach over, taking the needle and thread from him. “Here, let me do that.” 

“I didn’t mean for you to come here early so I could put you to work,” Remus protests, watching as you string up the next piece of popcorn with nimble fingers. Jealousy wars with admiration, but his esteem for you wins out. “You’ll never come back for New Year’s if this is what you have to look forward to.” 

You smile down at your hands. “Sure I will. You’ll still be there, won’t you? And I really don’t mind helping, it gives me something to do.” 

Remus smiles back even though you’re not looking. “Alright, well I guess that means I can start rolling out the gingerbread dough. Thanks, love.” He touches his hand lightly to the crown of your head as he stands, letting the urge to press a kiss there pass as quickly as it arises. He goes into the kitchen and a second later you decide to follow. Popcorn swishes against the floor behind you as you make your way over to the bar counter, sitting on a stool with the string trailing all the way back to the couch. 

“You’re making gingerbread cookies?” you ask, watching with eager eyes as he plops the dough onto the floured counter, rolling it flat. 

“Mhm. You like them?” 

“Never had one.” 

Remus feels his eyebrows inch upwards. “Seriously?” 

You look almost sheepish, as though this is a crime which you expect to be held against you. Honestly, you’re not far off; had James been here, you would have been questioned and scolded to hell and back, and then he would’ve made Remus give you some dough to try, salmonella be damned. 

“No,” you answer him. “We made ornaments of them in school, once, but we weren’t allowed to eat them. I always thought they were so cute, though, with the little people cutouts.” 

“They’re the best,” Remus agrees, pressing out the shapes and laying them on the baking sheet. “If you finish that quickly enough, I might even let you help me cut out a few.” 

“Yes!” you cheer, and he laughs as you start working quicker with the needle. 

“Don’t hurt yourself. The privilege of cookie cutting is not actually contingent on your labor.” 

“I know,” you say, but your hands don’t slow. Remus has barely finished filling his second baking sheet before you’re done, having made more progress in the last twenty minutes than he had over nearly an hour. 

Remus’ hip touches yours as he shows you how to give the cookie cutters a little shake in the dough, freeing the shape before lifting it and placing it on the sheet. It’s not a painfully difficult task, and still he’s impressed by how quickly you catch on. You’re a machine of efficiency. You seem to enjoy rolling out the dough almost as much as pressing out the shapes, falling into a quick, happy rhythm. Before long you’ve pushed Remus out of the way (Lily would be proud, he thinks), urging him to go and hang up the popcorn garland before everyone else arrives. 

You haven’t seen each other in over a month, both of you caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season, and you catch up as you work on your separate tasks. Remus talks to you about his job, the students who plague him and the ones he wishes he could take home after work each day, and how none of them had liked the film he’d put on the day before break. (“Mister Magoo’s is a classic!” you protest as Remus shakes his head. “They’re too young to get it,” he says. “Our classics are just old to them.”) You tell him about your new cat, and the sweater you’d crocheted her for the holiday which she despises above all else, and he promises to come over sometime soon to meet her. 

You’ve poured yourselves spiked eggnog and sampled a few ginger cookies (“They’re twice as good when they’re fresh,” Remus says. “Don’t let the others’ tardiness rob you of the experience.”) by the time the door bursts open again, Sirius of course not bothering to knock. 

“Hello!” he calls from somewhere behind a tower of presents. “Merry holiday to you, Moony!” 

You get up to help, and so Remus is compelled to do so as well, taking a couple sloppily-wrapped boxes from Sirius’ arms. 

“Merlin, it smells good in here,” James declares as he comes through the door, Lily carrying a beaming baby Harry on her hip behind him. James’ eyes fall on you. “Aw, you beat us here?”

Remus scoffs, setting down the gifts by the tree and leaving you to arrange them as you see fit. “Not a very difficult task, when you’re over an hour late,” he says. “You’re lucky Y/N’s good company, or I’d be more cross with you.” 

“Sorry,” Lily says as Sirius makes a dismissive sound, flopping onto the couch. “We had some trouble fitting everything in the car with Harry’s seat, and then Sirius—” she shoots him a glare, and he grins like she’s sweetly cooed his name “—wouldn’t leave without his hat, even though he’d lost it.” 

“One only gets to wear one’s elf hat every so often,” Sirius justifies, unperturbed. “I wasn’t going to miss the occasion even if it took me all night to find it.” 

“It nearly did,” Lily shoots back, but then James is at her side, having discarded his load of food and presents and now vying to hold Harry. 

“Come here, my handsome little guy.” 

“Used to call me that,” Sirius quips with his mouth full of gingerbread cookies, a heaping plate seeming to have found its way into his lap. 

Remus isn’t going to smile at that poor attempt at a joke, but once you laugh he can’t help it. 

“Only on special occasions,” James replies, taking Harry under the arms and hoisting him into the air. Harry laughs, and it’s probably the most contagious thing Remus has ever heard. Everyone smiles; James most of all, grinning ear to ear as he does it again. 

“He never lets me hold him,” Lily complains fondly. 

“Because I know how much you like seeing me with him,” James says breezily, making a face at Harry above him. “You’re mad with lust right now, Evans, don’t try to deny it.” 

“Sleaze,” Sirius says to him, the bell on his hat jingling when he tilts his head.

“I know you are, but what am I?” 

“I,” Remus says, “am hungry. And I’ll bet Y/N is too, since she’s very politely refrained from snacking much while we waited for you lot.” 

James' attention actually leaves his son for half a second to look at you and see if what Remus says is true, and you go instantly bashful. It doesn’t seem to matter how long you’re friends with them; having attention drawn to you will always bring some color to your cheeks. Lily comes to your rescue, ushering you into the kitchen like she needs somewhere to channel her mother hen urges while James is monopolizing Harry. 

“I hope you really are hungry,” she says, “because James has made enough bhaji to feed us all for a month.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Soon even James is stuffed and you’re all a bit tipsy on eggnog. Some of your natural anxiety fades as everything starts to feel slower and more fluid, your insides warm and soft as wax. 

“No, because it was so obvious,” Sirius says. He’s telling a story of a girl he’d seen at a coffee shop that he’s sure was enamored with him. James, naturally, agrees completely, but Lily and Remus aren’t so sure. “She did the—the thing. Y/N, back me up. When a girl makes eye contact with you and then looks off to the side, it means she’s not interested, but when she looks down, it’s because she’s nervous, right?”

You raise your eyebrows. “I think you made that up,” you tell him, tiny bits of laughter running in between your words. “Anyway, is her being nervous necessarily a good thing?” 

“She was nervous because she’s obsessed with me,” Sirius insists. 

“Or,” Remus says, “she was nervous because you were staring at her, and she thought you were going to follow her outside.” 

“And probably kill her,” Lily agrees. 

James’ eyebrows shoot up. “Merlin, you two are dark. Our Padfoot’s not putting out murderous vibes. He’s got too much boyish charm.” 

Sirius nods appreciatively, but Lily only shrugs, careful not to jostle Harry where he’s sleeping on her lap. “Girls have to think of those things.” 

“Gross,” James says, looking slightly troubled as he kisses the side of his wife’s head. “Well, I think she was in love with you, Pads.”

“Yeah,” Remus rolls his eyes, “he should show up at her house and find out. It’d be romantic.”

“And on that note,” James goes on, ignoring him, “shall we do presents?”

You all agree, and Sirius looks at James with an older brother’s entitlement. “Go ahead and distribute them, Prongsie.” 

James, well used to this, doesn’t even question it, scampering back and forth between the tree (which you can’t help but notice is somewhat lacking in the ornament department but quite sparkly) to deliver your presents at your feet. After a few rounds of this, you can’t stand it anymore and get up to help, laughing through the protests of your remaining three friends. (“He’s got it, love,” Remus says, and Sirius adds, “He’s got energy he needs to run off anyway.”) Between the two of you, the bottom of the Christmas tree is bare within a couple of minutes, small piles of presents next to each of your friends. You go to sit back by the pile meant for you, touched at the fact that you have a box from every person there. 

“S’not fair that James and Lily get to do couple’s presents now,” Sirius complains. “I’m going to start buying gifts for you like you’re one person, see how you like it.” 

The biggest pile is obviously for Harry, and you all start there, no small amount of eagerness in James’ expression as he tears open the first box. “The Velveteen Rabbit,” he reads aloud. “Wow, this is kinda hefty for a children’s book.” 

“Who’s it from?” Lily prompts, as if you don’t all already know. 

“Shit, I forgot to check.” 

“And that’s why we read the box,” Lily says slowly, and you get the sense this is a conversation that’s happened more than once, “before we start ripping, honey.” 

“It was me,” Remus volunteers, lips pulling into a half-smile. 

“Course it was,” James says, taking a break from sticking his tongue out at his wife to smile at Remus. “Thanks, Moony.” 

“You had the opportunity to get him Goodnight Moon,” Sirius tsks, “and you just let it pass you by.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, but then Lily says, “He already has that one,” and you watch as he tries and fails to suppress the shy smile that takes him. It shifts the scars on his cheek and lights his eyes with a warm tenderness. 

He looks especially pretty under the Christmas lights, you think. The warm glow suits him, bringing out the amber in his eyes and richening the various brown shades of his hair. It makes his skin look softer too, smooth even where you know he has stubble around his jawline. You want suddenly to reach out and touch it, and you’re glad you’re sitting too far from him to act on the urge. 

You’ve noticed Remus over the years, of course. It’d be impossible not to. You’ve always harbored a tiny crush on him, but you keep it shoved deep down in your gut where it can’t hurt anyone. You think the world of him, but you love your little group of friends more than anything else. You’re not unaware of the fact that Remus is a more crucial fixture in it than you are; if anything happened between you and it made things awkward for everyone, you’d be the one to go. 

“Aw, is this a hat?” Lily pulls something tawny brown from a box, and you realize they’ve gotten to your gift. “Oh my god, it has little antlers!”

You try not to smile too hard as she shows it to James and he coos, taking it from her hands. “No way, he’ll be like our little Prongsie! I’m going to put it on him.” 

“Don’t wake him,” Lily warns, but James waves her off.

“He can sleep through anything,” he says, settling the baby beanie on Harry’s head. Sure enough, he doesn’t stir. 

“Oh, that’s so darling.” Lily presses a hand to her chest. “Y/N, where’d you get this?”

You feel your face heat and hope the lighting is covering your blush. “I made it,” you admit. “I know we’re already well into winter, but I hope he can still use it a little.” 

“Um, he’s never taking it off. Like, ever.” James leans around Lily to press a smacking kiss to your cheek. You laugh, trying not to shrink in on yourself from all the attention. “Thanks, love.” 

Once all the cooing over Harry’s presents is done, the rest of the gift opening proceeds with decidedly less fanfare, though no shortage of gratitude. You get a bunch of purple eyeliners from Sirius (you’d complained to him a few weeks ago that they’d stopped selling your old one, and he’d been thoughtful enough to find you options to help decide upon new one), a cookbook from James and Lily (“Now you can stop eating all those frozen meals,” James tells you with a meaningful look), and a set of mittens from Remus (“They’re alpaca,” he explains. “Supposed to be extra warm, and your hands are always freezing.”). The rest of your gifts are received happily too, and then Remus’ living room is covered with the wrapping paper Lily had tried but eventually given up on getting everyone to put in piles as they went and you’re all starting to yawn. 

“Alright,” Lily says after a while, “it’s well past Harry’s bedtime, and ours, and I’m sure Remus would like his flat back.” 

“Booo.” Sirius lays back on the couch, letting his head loll over the edge of the armrest. “Domestic life has made you lame, Evans-Potter.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” James drawls, gathering Harry against his chest, “I saw you yawning, Pads. Let’s go.” 

You stand with the rest of them, going to find your shoes by the door. “Thanks for everything, Remus,” you say. “It was great.” 

“For a first time hosting,” James allows, jokingly prideful, “I suppose you did a pretty decent job. Big shoes to fill, and all that.” 

Remus smiles as he rolls his eyes, but it falters when his gaze settles on something behind you. “Are you all going to be alright getting home? It looks like it’s really picked up.” 

You follow his stare out the window. He’s not wrong. The unusually thick snowfall you’d arrived in has morphed into something that looks more like a blizzard, the wind whipping white across the black backdrop of sky outside Remus’ flat. 

James looks between the scene outside and his family once before seeming to make a decision. “Yeah, we’ll be alright,” he says, watching Lily as he talks. She nods her approval, and James’ voice becomes more solid. “We don’t have far to drive.”

Remus nods, still looking worried. His brows furrow as he turns to you. “What about you? Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.” It’s the only answer in these situations, though you’re sure Remus would be alright with the alternative if you felt very strongly. “It doesn’t look too bad out there.” 

Remus casts another dubious glance out the window, and a particularly loud gust of wind whooshes past as if to spite you. “Are you sure? It looks pretty bad to me.” 

“Yeah,” James says, “don’t you live a bit far?”

“It’s not that far,” you fib, at the same time as Remus says, “She does.” 

You laugh awkwardly, pulling on your coat “It’s not. Anyway, I’ve driven in a lot worse than this.”

Lily gives you a small smile. “That’s hardly reassuring, babe.”

“You can stay here,” Remus offers, but you’re shaking your head before he’s even gotten the words out. 

“That’s sweet of you, but I can make it home.” You give him your most competent smile. “If I end up driving off the road and have to camp in my car, at least I’ll have fantastic mittens to keep the frostbite from my hands.” 

He gives you a deadpan look. “While I’m glad you’re excited to use my gift, I’d prefer to keep it from coming to that.”

“You can’t get in a crash and die on Christmas,” Sirius says. “It’d be, like, a super huge downer for us every year.” 

“I’ll be fine,” you insist. 

“Shortcake, I don’t care if we have to lock you in here,” James says, frowning in a way that doesn’t look particularly tough when he’s swaying back and forth to rock Harry on his chest. “There’s no way you can drive all the way to your place in this.” 

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, wrapping your scarf.

“Okay, you know I would never usually say this,” Lily says, gnawing on her lip as she watches the snow blow past outside, “but I think you should listen to the boys. It looks too scary out there to drive that far.” 

“It’s…” You look between them, your argument dying of futility on your tongue. James seems prepared to blockade you in Remus’ flat, and even Lily’s giving you a stern look. Your gaze lands on Remus, and the last of your resistance melts away.

“You really should stay here,” he says kindly. “Actually, I’d feel a lot better if you did. Okay?”

You sigh, slipping your scarf back over your head. “Okay.” 

“Phew!” Sirius says, pulling you into a one-armed hug. “Glad that’s settled. See you all soon, thanks for Christmas Moony!” 

“He’s so tired,” Lily says after Sirius is out the door. 

“Wiped,” James agrees, adjusting his grip on Harry so that he can wrap one arm around Remus’ neck. Remus leans down into the awkward hug, begrudgingly fond as he pats his friend on the back, then kisses Lily on the cheek when James moves to you. 

“Thanks for the gifts,” James says, grinning down at Harry’s knit antlers after he releases you. “He’s never taking this off.” 

“He means it.” Lily sends her husband a look as fond as it is weary as she hugs you. “I’ll probably have to bathe Harry when James is asleep so he doesn’t catch him without it.” 

Your face is feeling hot again. “I’m glad you like it,” you say with a little shrug, but your friends are used to your shyness and only smile and wave on their way out. 

And then the door shuts, and you and Remus are left alone in the quiet. 

“Are you tired?” he asks you, moving back into the living room. Lily had sneakily taken care of a good deal of the cleanup, but there’s still a few half-empty glasses of eggnog strewn about which Remus begins gathering. 

“Not really,” you answer honestly, beating him to the sink and forcing him to hand you the glasses to wash. “Are you?”

“No,” he agrees, and the look he shoots you has to be the gentlest form malice has ever taken as he takes up the dish towel and stations himself beside you. “Fancy a film?”

“Mmm, a Christmas film?”

“Obviously.” 

The dishes are finished quickly thanks to Lily’s interference, and Remus makes you some hot cocoa while you scroll through movies, calling out possibilities. The only conflict between you is your equal complaisance to whatever the other prefers, and you eventually settle on the first one you’d seen just to put an end to it. You take your cocoa gladly when Remus passes it to you, blowing gently while he settles a blanket over the both of you, your knees curled towards him and his one leg crossed over the other angling him towards you. 

The first few minutes of the film are spent in that contented quietude that the two of you so often fall into when you’re alone together, but then Remus asks you, “What is it?”

You look over at him. “Hm?”

“You’re frowning.”

“Oh.” You laugh. “I’m just thinking about snow.” 

His lips quirk. “It is kind of the bane of your existence tonight, isn’t it?”

“No.” You smile down at your hands, hoping it's not obvious how not unpleasant you find your circumstances at the moment. “That’s not it. I was thinking, I kind of hate how it always has to snow in these movies. It makes any Christmas where it doesn’t snow feel like it’s not up to par. Or not quintessential enough, or something.”

“Mmm, I see.” Remus looks back to the screen, considering. “Does that make this your quintessential Christmas, then? Are we living up to the movie standard?”

You watch him while he watches the TV, blue light cast over his handsome features. “I guess so,” you say.

The longer you sit there, the closer you get. You blame it on the late hour, your bodies relaxing towards each other on the couch. Remus’ arm brushes yours when he lifts his mug for a sip, and your knees dig into his thigh under the blanket. Soon you’ve drooped enough that you’re leaning nearly entirely against him. You don’t notice until Remus puts an arm around you to encourage your head to his shoulder. You tense but don’t sit up, and eventually his head comes to rest atop yours. 

“Are you crying?” he murmurs during one scene near the end. 

Your reply is equally soft, not wanting to jostle either Remus’ head or his shoulder with your speech movements. “I really like this part.” 

“You know how it ends. It’s going to be okay.” 

“I know.” You sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe your face now that you’ve been caught. “I know it is. It’s just really profound.” 

“Sure it is.”

“It’s the spirit of Christmas, Remus. Goodwill to man.” 

“Okay.” He rubs your shoulder, and you pretend not to feel his shaking with quiet laughter. “Okay, I agree with you.” 

And awhile later: “You’re tired,” he accuses.

You hum a denial.

“Sweetheart” —your stomach flutters, and there’s a jolt somewhere behind your ribcage; you ignore it— “you’re practically falling asleep right here.”

“Are you tired?” 

He shifts slightly, stubble tickling your forehead. “No. But you are.” 

“I want to finish the movie.” 

He seems to debate this for a moment, then his shoulder relaxes beneath you. “Alright.” 

The credits start, and neither of you move. 

You let your head slump more heavily onto his shoulder. “Your place really does look lovely. Thanks for having me.”

“Of course, love.” You can feel his smile squish up against the top of your head. “Would you go so far as to say my hosting measures up to James’?”

You chuckle, gesturing to yourself. “I’d say you’ve gone above and beyond, for sure.” 

Remus laughs too. “Perfect. Tell him so, would you?”

You’re going to agree when a great yawn takes you. You keep it quiet, but there’s no avoiding the way your chin digs into Remus’ shoulder, your shoulders rising with the prolonged inhale. He moves away from you. 

“Ready for bed?” He smiles down at you as you run a knuckle under your eyes, collecting tears from your lashes. 

You shrug an admittance. “Sort of. But I don’t want to kick you out of your own living room if you’re not tired yet.”

“No, I’m pretty wiped too,” he says. “Anyway, I’m the one kicking you out. You’re staying in my room.” 

You had a feeling he would say something like that. You grab a throw pillow, getting situated with your head near the armrest. “No, I’m not.” 

His laugh is disbelieving. “Yeah, you are. Come on, you’re my guest. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.” 

You tug the blanket off his lap, curling up with your pillow stubbornly. “I’m not going to steal your bed. You’ve already done so much. You’ve helped me try gingerbread cookies and given me nice mittens and hosted an amazing Christmas. Let me sleep on your couch, please.” 

“While I appreciate all that,” he says, “no.” 

“Remus.” You’re near pleading at this point. “Your back will hurt.”

“Your back will hurt.” 

“Not as badly as yours.” You give him a hard look. “I’m not taking your bed.” 

There’s a brief silence, terser than your usual ones but no more awkward for it. You stare each other down. 

“Right,” Remus says, reclaiming the remote from where he’d set it on the coffee table. “I suppose we’d better start another movie, then.”

“Remus, come on.” You sit up, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. “You’ve just said you’re tired. Go to bed, please.”

The TV flickers back on. “I’m not leaving this couch.” 

“Well, neither am I,” you laugh, completely serious. 

He rolls his eyes, then snuggles up to you under the blanket. You take this as a sign that he’s not really very cross with you. “You’re much more argumentative than usual tonight, you know that?”

You huff, laying your head back on his shoulder. “I could say the same about you.” 

“True, but I know I’ll win out in the end.” 

“You can think that if you like.” 

“Want to watch this one next?”

“Sure.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Remus watches as your eyes drift closed, then twitch back open, over and over again. He thinks his bony shoulder is the only thing keeping you from falling over the precipice of sleep. If he were James Potter, he’d simply pick you up with ease and carry you to his bed, but Remus can’t say he’s entirely sorry for this extra time with you, even if neither of you are awake enough to make much conversation.

Silly as it sounds, he enjoys just sitting here with you nearly as much as talking. Your cheek squished into his shoulder, your legs curled up atop his, you’re warm and weighty against him. 

He should have known it would be a hopeless endeavor trying to get you to agree to take the bed. You’re a gentle thing by nature, but stubborn in your selflessness. Even if you had gone, Remus knows he wouldn’t have slept all night anyway, too preoccupied with thoughts of you all wrapped up in his sheets, your face pressed to his pillow, getting your shampoo-smell on the pillowcase. He doesn’t know if it smells like him (does he have a smell?), but he would have wondered all night if it does, if you were noticing. 

Your head nearly rolls off his shoulder, and a pitying sound escapes Remus when you jerk awake to set it right. He lets his head rest on yours so it doesn’t happen again. Your eyelids droop closed almost immediately, and Remus begins dragging his thumb over your shoulder blade, a nice, slow back-and-forth. You’re quiet for a long while. 

“Are you trying to put me to sleep?” you murmur, words all sloshed together. 

It’s a conscious effort not to let his thumb slow. “No,” he says. 

You hum. 

“Unless you mean it’s working.” 

Another long silence. “It’s not,” you reply, head growing heavier on his shoulder.  

He chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed, hm?” 

“You go to bed,” you mumble, and if he thought you were capable of it he’d say there was some bitterness lining your words. 

He sighs. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he tells you. 

“No,” you reply, softly, plainly, like it’s a fact, “that’s you.” 

He picks his head up off of yours to see your face. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm.” Your eyes are closed. You don’t know he’s looking. Your face is wholly relaxed, no hint of pretense about you. “You’re the best I know.” 

Something warm and wheedling works its way through Remus’ ribs to the soft gooey core of him. “Well,” he tells you honestly, “you’re the best I know.”

You seem unconcerned. “Another impasse for us.” 

He actually laughs at that, instantly guilty when it jostles you on his shoulder and your eyelids peel apart. He can’t regret it, though, when you look at him the way you do. You’re glowing in the light coming off the tree, soft and warm and lovely, and yet you’re looking at him like he’s the only place your eyes want to go. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

You come gradually more awake, eyebrows twitching towards each other just slightly. “Remus,” you murmur, and he finally does what he’s been wanting to since you’d shown up at his door hours ago. He kisses you. 

Your lips are pliable, parting for his almost instantly, like you’d been waiting. His hand coasts from your shoulder to cup the back of your head, keeping you close as your nose slides against his. You both all but fall back onto the bed you’d made yourself on the couch. He’s careful not to put too much of his weight on you, but when his tongue brushes across the inside of your lip and you inhale, he draws back. 

“I...” He pants into the space between you. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

You make a sound that’s half hum, half whine, and bump your chin up into his. 

Remus loses himself again with frightening quickness. It’s even better now that you seem more sure, your mouth asking, coaxing against his. You taste like gingerbread. An low, embarrassing sound pries free from the back of his throat when you wind your fingers into the hair at his nape, and he slips his free hand beneath your back, getting as close to you as he can. Your legs make room for him automatically, knees tipping open so he can slot between them.

“Do you—” you breathe when his attentions move downward, tilting your head to the side to offer access as he mouths at the skin just under your jaw. “Do you want this?” 

The word leaves him in a soft exhale, muffled against your skin. “Yes.”

You swallow. He feels the movement in your throat. “Are you sure?”

His eyelashes brush your jaw as his kisses slow, become more tender, more intentional. “Lovely girl,” he murmurs. “You’re silly, you know that?” His mouth meanders it’s way over to your pulse, getting stuck there and sucking at your skin lazily. “I mean, you’re smart.” The words are all mushed up against you. Noticeably amused. Remus quit the eggnog hours ago, yet he feels half drunk. “You’re really smart, honey, but you can be so oblivious sometimes.” 

You don’t respond, and as much as he loves the sound of your voice, he’s hoping your silence is in his favor right now. He wants you wrapped up in him, wants to engross you so completely you forget how to form your lips around speech. 

“Do you want to move to my room?” 

You take a breath. Fuck, even the sound of you breathing is nearly enough to undo him. He moves back to your mouth as if to intercept it, nipping at your lower lip. 

“Is this a ploy to get me off the couch?” 

“You’re relentless.”

Your lips curve against his, and he mirrors them without thinking. You stay quiet.

“Fine. I promise it’s not, okay?” 

Your laugh is fizzy like champagne, and it warms Remus’ chest like it too. “Okay,” you say in that lovely voice. “Okay, let’s go.” 

❆ ❆ ❆

You’d always thought Remus was all softness. He’s made up of soft looks, soft colors, and hair that you can now confirm is soft as dandelion fluff. But this night has defied your expectations in a thousand ways. And your Remus, soft, gentle, kindhearted Remus, is scraping at your throat with his teeth. 

You have to suck your lip between your teeth to keep from making a humiliatingly desperate sound when he passes his tongue over his work, another crescent moon that’s sure to be purple by morning. Your hands are beseeching in his dandelion fluff hair, keeping him close while his hands are busy lower, one gripping the fat of your hip while the other drags tantalizingly slow up and down your side. He’s kissing you like you have all the time in the world, sometimes rough but no more urgent for it, and you’re breathy and molten and useless beneath him. 

You’re brimming with adoration and something else too. Something that you think you could almost identify—you’ve felt it before, but never like this. 

“What do you want to do?” There’s a raspy quality to his voice that would send you to your knees if he hadn’t already taken them out from under you. He dots leisurely, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, soothing over spots he’s already nipped and sucked into oblivion. Your head feels fuzzy. “Sweetheart?” 

Christ, is he trying to send you into cardiac arrest? Remus doesn’t stop kissing you even at your silence, finding your lip still held between your teeth and encouraging it free with his own. You try to remember what he’d ask you. What do you want to do? You have no idea. Where would you even start? You want him to keep talking to you in that raspy voice, that’s for sure. You want…you want to keep kissing him, to know what his hands would do if you let them beneath your clothes. You want to keep investigating that warm feeling in your gut. See where it takes you. 

Remus’ kisses slow, then stop. He pulls back to look at you. In the dim street light coming in through the window, you wonder what he sees. “You alright?” His voice is soft, gentle, saying it’s okay if you’re not without saying it. 

You take a breath. It shakes a little on the way out, but you don’t think he can tell. “Yeah, I’m good. Just nervous. But not in a bad way.” Nervous-happy. 

“Don’t be,” he implores, lips brushing your cheek. “It’s only me.”

Exactly, you think. It’s you. 

“What do you want to do?” You turn his own question back on him. 

His smile is tinged with bashfulness. “I mean, whatever you’re alright with.” There’s a tentative quietness to his voice. “Have you…”

If it were possible for you to get any warmer, embarrassment would do it. “No,” you say, shrinking away from him though there’s nowhere to go. Whatever the end to that question might be, the answer is no. 

“That’s okay,” he says quickly, dropping another kiss on the corner of your mouth like a cure-all remedy. “That’s okay, you just tell me if you want to stop, yeah? If you don’t like something, or you want to slow down—anything at all, you let me know.” He kisses you again, further up on your burning cheek. “Okay?” 

You swallow. “Okay.” 

“Don’t be nervous.” He says it like a promise, hand stroking your side again as if to soothe you. His lips find your shoulder, nosing the fabric of your sleeve. “Can I take this off, lovely?” 

You nod, words all stoppered up in your throat, then realize he can’t see you and do it yourself. He has to pause as it comes off, taking the opportunity to do away with his own sweater, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. You do the same, and your bra quickly follows. You’d always thought (largely influenced, admittedly, by trashy novels) that this was the part where the guy stops what he’s doing and openly oggles the shirtless woman in front of him, but Remus has seen tits before and wastes no time in getting his mouth back on yours, pressing you into the mattress. His skin is as heated as yours, the areas where you touch deliciously warm despite the cold still whipping past his bedroom window. You allow yourself one sweeping, appreciative pass over the muscles on Remus’ back before your hands go down to your bottoms, shimmying them down your legs. A long-fingered hand finds the exposed skin of your thigh and kneads reverently. You swallow Remus’ groan, and he kisses you more deeply, long, savoring passes of his tongue along the inside of your mouth until his lips move downward. 

One hand stays at your hip while the other strokes up and down your thigh, spit cooling in a path down your stomach. You try to relax as he passes your navel, but the anticipation is hard to shake. You’re nearly trembling when he kneels between your legs, kissing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. 

“Is this okay?” he murmurs. 

It’s all you can do to nod, gasping when his teeth drag over one of the stretch marks there. You clutch at the sheets above your head like a lifeline. 

“We can stop anytime you want.” 

You inhale raggedly. “No,” you manage. Your breathlessness is obvious in the quiet room. “I want—I want to keep going.” You pause. “Do you?”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, love, that sounds good to me.” 

Good, you’re about to say, but Remus’ next kiss lands on your slit, and your voice withers and dies in your throat. He uses a hand to push one of your legs open further while bringing the other over his shoulder, spreading you open. His breath fans hot over your cunt.

You’re writhing at the first broad stroke of his tongue, and he wraps his fingers around the outside of your thigh, keeping you still while placating you at the same time. 

Remus takes his time, lapping experimentally at your entrance before making his way upwards. You gasp as his tongue skims over your clit, burrowing your hand in his hair before hesitating. 

“Is this okay?” you ask. 

His hummed assent has you tightening your grasp. He brushes over your clit one more time, and when this gets a similar reaction from you, begins sucking on it gently. You’re panting, and Remus has to move his grip to your hip to hold you in place, squeezing indulgently at the fat there while he narrows in on what you like. Before long you’re trembling all over, grasping feebly at his hair as you squeeze your eyes shut against the odd sort of bliss that’s taking you under. 

“Remus,” you breathe, and it’s a miracle that he hears you but he does, raising his head with a lewd suctioning sound. 

He looks at you questioningly with eyes almost all pupil. 

“Come here,” you plead. 

He obeys, crawling back up you to peck at your bitten lips. “Doing alright?” he asks you.

“Yeah,” you promise, cupping his head in one hand and wrapping your leg over the back of his as if to prevent him from leaving. “Just wanted to kiss you.” 

You feel him smile against your lips. He slots his mouth over yours, and you dedicate yourself to his top lip. He tastes like sex, braver now as he explores your mouth. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, and you make a high, breathy sound. His grip on you tightens. 

“Do you think—can we—”

He hesitates, kissing softly at the corner of your lips. “Are you sure?” 

“I want to. Do you?” 

Remus actually laughs, muffling the sound against your cheek. “Yeah, I fucking want to. I’ve wanted to forever.” 

You can’t think about that. Think about that and you’ll fall to pieces. 

He noses affectionately at the underside of your jaw, slipping down you once again to stand at the end of the bed. He steps out of his pants and grabs a condom from the drawer of his nightstand. “You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah?” 

“Mhm,” you promise, anticipation coiling up snugly with that other thing in your stomach. They don’t feel all that distinct from one another. 

“Alright,” he says, palm slipping under your thigh. “Can I lift this up, love?” 

You nod, and he grasps the soft underside of your knee, bringing your leg up to your stomach as he lines up. You gasp as he pushes in slowly, watching your face to make sure you’re doing okay. You’re already slick and worked open from his ministrations, and it’s still a bit shocking. His thumb strokes beside your knee as your walls adjust to the size of him. “How’s that feel?” 

“Good,” you say honestly. There’s a note of desperation to your voice. “I can—more, please.” 

He’s quick to accommodate you, pushing deeper as he folds himself over you to recapture your lips. Your breaths shallow. His free hand moves to your breast, kneading gently at the soft flesh. He gives it a firm squeeze at the same time as he moves inside you, and you nearly bite Remus’ lip off, a half-suppressed keening sound escaping you. 

“So good,” he mumbles. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Taking it so well.” He lifts his head, kissing your temple. “Think you can handle a bit more?” 

Your response is barely more than breath, but he catches the affirmation, pressing another firm kiss to your forehead before he bottoms out inside you. Your head lolls back, fuzzy with the strange pain and even stranger pleasure. Remus tightens his grip on your leg to keep it up, dotting kisses down the side of your face. 

“Good girl,” he says hoarsely. “Still doing okay, lovely?” 

“Yeah,” you say, somewhat dizzy. “Remus, it feels so good.” 

“Good,” he croons. “It should feel good, love. Ready for me to move?”

“Mhm.”

He pulls out slowly, dragging against your sensitive walls. He starts mouthing at your neck again before he pushes back inside you, filling you up all over again. A slew of expletives roll out of your mouth, unbidden and entirely unlike you, as Remus begins pumping your breast again, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. He sucks the flesh of your neck between his teeth, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to repress what promises to be a high-pitched and deeply mortifying sound. 

Remus praises you amply, soft kisses and reverent touches and a raspy “Fuck, sweetheart, just like that.” Your head floats or swims or both, your body tensed all over and yet completely plaint beneath Remus’ hands. He moves back to your mouth, discovering your bottom lip held captive between your teeth. 

“Come on, don’t do that,” he chides, easing it free with gentle kisses. “Let me hear you, bet you sound so pretty.” 

The Welsh accent that’s grown faint after years of living away from home is emerging now, as is the crude vocabulary it's tied to in memory, a host of barely comprehensible profanities spewing from Remus’ lips when you clench on him again. His grip tightens on your tit, and a moan tears from the back of your throat. 

“That’s it,” he praises, head dipping to kiss the soft spot he’s found under your ear. “There you are, lovely girl.” 

The coil in your core grows impossibly tighter, your thighs quivering as you approach a peak you’ve never known before. Remus feels it, cooing softly even as he drives into you harder.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” You nod dazedly. “Good, good, just let it happen, I’ve got you.” 

“Come here,” you demand again, and he wastes no time in obliging you. He kisses your lips sore as you dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling his body flush against yours, the feeling inside you growing so great you don’t know where to put it, don’t know if you can contain it. You can’t remember ever feeling this close to someone, Remus’ touch the only thing keeping you from hurtling off some unknown precipice.

“Let go,” he urges, and you do. You trust him to catch you. 

It’s bliss like you’ve never known. You cry out, and Remus’ hand slides down from your breast to spread wide and flat against your ribs. Steadying. He kisses soothingly at your jaw as you gasp and pant your way back to him, grip slackening on his shoulders. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, though you really haven’t done much at all. 

“Are you—” You swallow, choking on the emotion that’s risen unbidden in your throat. “Are you close?” 

Remus smiles, coming back to your lips like he can’t help himself. He pecks you once, twice. “Sweetheart, I’m more than close. I’ve barely been holding myself together since you kissed me.” 

Well, he’d actually kissed you, but you’ll take the compliment anyway. 

“Do you think you’ll be alright if I move again?” he asks. “It’s okay if not.” 

“You can,” you say certainly, leaning up on your elbows to see him better. “Is there…anything I can do to help?”

The smile fades from his face, leaving something far more tender in its wake. “Just, keep looking at me like that?” He says it almost like he’s embarrassed, voice quiet with supplication. 

You want to tell him you’d never needed asking to look at him, but you don’t, keeping your eyes on his obediently as he pumps into you. He really must have been close, because he’s cursing again not long after, accent twisting his syllables with a gruff pleasure. Your walls contract at the movement, still sensitive, and that’s all it takes. Remus digs his fingers into your waist and makes sounds you’re sure you’ll dream about, panting, breathy moans you sit up to smother against your lips. He follows you back down onto the mattress, mouth slotted against your own. You hold him to you until his breaths even and his grip on you loosens. 

“Was that alright?” he asks, some of the rasp still lingering in his voice. 

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, dizzy with affection. “Yeah, it was good,” you promise him. Understatement of the year. “Really good, Rem.” 

“Good,” he echoes, lips brushing the skin under your eye. You don’t know how you know, but you can feel the amusement building in him just before he asks, “Tired yet?”

You guffaw. The force of it jostles him on top of you, and his lips curve against your cheek. “A little bit, yeah.” Actually, you hadn’t realized how exhausting sex would be. If it didn’t mean having to take your eyes off Remus, you’d have closed them and passed out by now. 

“Good,” he says again, hands sliding down your waist as he moves to stand again. You make a small sound as he shifts, and Remus shushes you, slipping out from inside you. You watch fascinatedly as he removes the condom, sticky with cum. He tosses it in the wastebasket under his desk and walks away from you.

“Hey,” you protest. “You’d better not be sneaking off to sleep on the couch.” 

His chuckle echoes in the bathroom, followed by the sound of a cabinet opening. “So mistrustful,” he says when he comes back in with a damp towel. “What’ve I done to arouse such suspicion?” 

Your fuzzy brain gets stuck on the word arouse in his teasing tone, and it takes you a second to answer. “Well, I’m here and a blink away from falling asleep, so you tell me.” 

“Fair enough.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, taking your thigh in his grasp to move it aside. “Alright if I clean you up, love?” 

You startle, coming up on your elbows to see where Remus is holding the towel between your legs. “I didn’t realize it’d be so messy,” you admit. “You don’t have to, though, I can do it myself.” 

“I don’t mind,” he says, thumb soothing over your knee. “S’my mess anyway.” He seems to have not quite agreed with himself to say that last part aloud, a blush spreading over his cheeks. 

“Sure,” you say, mostly to alleviate his embarrassment. You let your weight lean more heavily on your elbows, trying your best to look relaxed. “Sure, if you’re alright with it.” 

“Might be a bit sensitive,” he warns. You’d guessed as much, but it's worth it for all the praises he rains down upon you as he works, finishing with a kiss to the side of your knee. 

You miss him humiliatingly when he goes to the bathroom again to discard the towel. It’s all you can do not to reach for him when he comes back, but luckily Remus reads your mind anyway, slipping under the covers and tugging you to him until his lips rest against your forehead. 

“That was really great,” you tell him. 

“I thought so too.” 

“You’ll stay here, right?” 

A low laugh. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m staying here.” 

❆ ❆ ❆

Remus hasn’t known anyone to sleep in longer than Sirius, but you seem to be vying for his title. The sun has long since passed above his windows when Remus wakes, and still he has time to spend idle hours marveling at the closeness of you. His nose is cold above the covers, but everywhere your bodies are pressed together is warm, your palm flat against his chest and one of your legs wormed between his own. Your fingers twitch as you dream. 

It has to be early afternoon by the time he rises, slipping his hand carefully from beneath you and plodding into the kitchen. The blanket is still on the couch where you left it, throw pillow creased with your indentation. Your mugs are discarded on the coffee table with globs of once-hot cocoa stuck to the bottom. Bright light refracts off the snow outside and into his kitchen, making everything look shiny new. 

Remus starts the kettle first, letting that warm up while he rifles through the cabinets for his big mixing bowl and starts whisking together ingredients. A bird chirps outside as the kettle gurgles, and somehow the peace of Remus’ kitchen feels more complete knowing that you’re sleeping just down the hall. 

Until, apparently, you’re not. Your footsteps are so silent he startles when you appear, still blinking yourself awake as you cross your arms over the sweater you’ve thrown on with your bottoms from the night before. Remus’ sweater. And Remus had thought he’d come to terms with the idea of you here, in his apartment like the best Christmas gift of all time, but apparently not, because his heart stutters and stops at the sight of you. 

He’d thought you’d looked adorable in the soft glow of the Christmas lights the night before, and again tucked into his sheets this morning, but you’re almost ethereal now. Sunlight bathes the planes of your face and gleams off your hair, making you appear almost like you’re emanating the bright light rather than standing in it. You smile at him, seraphim. 

“Morning. Sorry I didn’t ask,” you say, fingering the hem of Remus’ sweater. “I was cold and you were gone, I hope you don’t mind.” 

Mind? Remus can’t even think. 

“Course not,” he manages, but just barely. It’s more an exhale than a statement. “Did you sleep alright?” 

“Really well,” you say. His sleeves cover your fingers as you rest your elbows on the counter, and your gaze has gone a bit shy again, but Remus can hardly blame you. You both seemed to have experienced unusual nerve the night before. He only hopes you aren’t regretting your part in it. And now that he’s had some time to think, he hopes even more that you’d truly wanted it in the first place. “Did you?” 

“Yeah, thanks.”

You lean a bit closer in a way that he doubts either of you are even slightly unaware of, peering into the mixing bowl. “What’re you making?” 

“I’m experimenting,” he says, though he wishes now he weren’t. He wanted to make you something good, but his confidence in his adaptation is waning now that you’re in the room. He should have gone with something basic, tried-and-true. “Or, I’m attempting. Gingerbread pancakes?” 

His voice crawls up into a question, as if he really has no idea what it is he’s trying to make (maybe that’s closer to the truth), but Remus’ regrets vanish instantly at the genuine elation that lights your expression. 

“Really?” 

A laugh startles out of him, giddy. “Yeah, does that sound alright?” 

“More than alright,” you declare with full seriousness, seating yourself at the bar counter. “That sounds amazing, Rem, thank you. Merlin, I owe you so big for all of this.” 

“I think you’ve more than made it up to me.” It slips out without permission, Remus too high on the flow of your conversation to filter the words through his brain before they reach his mouth. His loathsome, traitorous mouth. “I mean, I’m sorry—fuck, that sounds awful—I only meant that I’ve had a really good time with you here. I’m glad you stayed.” 

You flush horribly, and Remus doesn’t expect he’s faring much better. 

“Not that I’m only glad because of—or, I’m always glad to have you. As a friend, too.” 

There’s a tiny pinch in your features, gone before he can diagnose it. Somehow, you seem even more uncomfortable. “Right.” You give him a thin smile. It’s a hearty attempt, but you’re too genuine a soul to fake it. Remus hates himself for it. “As a friend.” 

They’re his own words, put hearing them from your mouth and with that piss-poor smile feels like having a fire poker jammed between his ribs. 

With his track record this morning, he really should be taking a vow of silence, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Just friends, then?” Hesitance makes his voice sound quiet even in the silent kitchen. He looks down, stirring the batter to avoid watching the answer take form on your face. 

“I mean,” your tone is a match to his, “is that what you want?” 

A short, soft laugh escapes him. “I think I made what I want fairly clear last night.” 

There’s a short silence. “I thought I did too.” 

It’s a conscious effort to keep stirring. Had you? Remus had kissed you, he’d brought you to his room, he’d been the one to ask if you wanted to do more. And you’d been game for it all, sure, but he can’t help but wonder if you were just going along with it. If maybe you’d thought it was just a fuck, something he’d come up with to pass the time while you were both snowed in, no strings attached. Remus could understand that. He could disentangle the strings from last night if it’s what you want. But he’s liked you for years. He could love you oh so easily. He’s practically teetering on the edge of it already, though you’ve only been friends all this time. 

Remus spoons some batter into a waiting pan on the stove. He’s debating asking what exactly it is that you thought you’d made clear when you speak again. 

“I understand if it’s too much for you.” Your voice is shy. He looks up, and your shoulders are hunched as if you’re trying to hide yourself. You shrink further under his gaze. “We can stay just friends if it’s…if that’s what you want. I want whatever’s easier for you.” Your next words are so impossibly soft, Remus has to strain to hear them over the low sizzling of the pancake batter. “I really want you to stay in my life.” 

“What?” It’s a staccato, loud enough that it surprises you both, Remus stepping toward you while you nearly flinch back. “Sorry.” His hand goes up, reaching into the space between you as if he can soothe you from feet away. He lowers his volume. “Sorry, sweetheart, I just—I didn’t realize that was even on the table. I would never want to not be in your life.” 

“I just mean that I don’t want to make things weird for you, or for everyone else—”

“Hey.” He manages to cross the distance this time, his hand landing on your wrist atop the counter. Remus isn’t sure why he needs it there so desperately, but he suddenly feels much better. “There is nothing that could make any of us not want to be friends with you. I can speak for everyone in that regard. Okay?” 

You look at him consideringly for a moment. Remus holds your stare, letting you see his certainty. “Okay,” you echo, sounding unsure. He’ll deal with that later, he decides.

“Okay,” he says once more, and it’d almost be firm if it weren’t so gentled by the tenderness he can never seem to get rid of around you. Even so, what he says next doesn’t sound particularly tender. It’s not very kind to you, he knows, but Remus is selfish, and he feels (selfishly) like he’s done his part already. He tries to phrase it as nicely as he can. “Can you tell me what it is that you want, please?” 

You try to shrink again, and Remus’ grip tightens on your wrist instinctually as if to keep you from running off. He swipes his thumb over your skin apologetically. “Remus, come on.” You sound almost upset, but it’s hard to tell with your voice so quiet. “I know I’m not that good at—at covering myself up. I must have hearts in my eyes half the time I look at you.” 

Remus would give a month’s rent to know what you can see in his eyes right now. Even if he’d been hoping for an answer something like that, he hadn’t expected it. And for you to act like it’s been obvious…he does his best to think back. 

You’ve always been a shy thing. It had taken James months to get you to be remotely yourself around them, and though you’d seemed to warm to Remus first, you’d always retained some of your bashfulness when you were alone together. He’d chalked it up to the result of two people, quiet by nature, with no wildly extroverted James or Sirius or Lily to run interference. 

You’ve always been kind to him, but you’re kind to everyone. How is anyone supposed to suspect favoritism from a soul as indiscriminately sweet as yours? 

He recalls your voice last night, thin and reedy and fragile as the cattails that had bordered the river behind his house as a kid. Wary of getting swept along by the current, but willing to go if Remus would take you. Do you want this?

He’d called you oblivious for asking. How could you wonder, when he’d been the one to kiss you and has probably been looking like he wanted to for years? He’s certainly been thinking about it for as long. But perhaps your obliviousness is another congruity between the two of you. 

So much for opposites attract. 

“I think I’m an idiot,” he says, and mercifully, a smile far more real than the last sneaks onto your face. 

“You are not,” you reply, ever forgiving. 

“Don’t tell Sirius,” he warns, “but I really think I am.” His voice drops into a more earnest register. “I had no idea, love, I’m sorry. Maybe you’re a better actress than you thought. But if you don’t want to be friends, I don’t want to either.” Remus hesitates. “Or, I always want to be your friend, just—”

“Remus?” 

Finally. Someone needs to stop him. “Yeah?” 

“Your pancake…”

He turns to find a thin spire of smoke rising from the pan. “Oh, fuck.” He grabs a spatula and quickly flips the pancake, but there’s no saving it. The bottom side is completely blackened. It’s inedible. “Sorry, I…I’m not sure I have enough batter for much more.” 

“It’s fine.” There’s laughter in your tone, and that’s more than enough to make up for it. “It was a really sweet thought, that’s what matters anyway.” 

Remus turns to find you’ve slipped out of your seat and are standing uncertainly on the threshold of the kitchen. His heart warms with incandescent, aching fondness. 

“Would you come here?” he asks. 

You comply with an eagerness he wonders he’s never noticed before, stepping forward to let him fold you into his arms. Your wrists cross over his mid back and the tip of his nose mushes into your hair as he touches his lips to the top of your head. He can’t believe he could have been holding you like this all along if only he hadn’t been so thick. He supposes he’ll have to make the most of it now. 

“Let’s do away with asking about want, does that sound alright?” He rubs lightly between your shoulder blades, wonders if you like the feel of his breath on your scalp. “How about you tell me if anything comes up that you don’t want, and I’ll do the same.”

“Yeah.” Remus knows he likes the feel of your voice on his skin, chin moving against his chest. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Good.” He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head. “Okay, should we venture out to find something for breakfast? Or lunch, I suppose it is by now.” 

You ease out of his arms. “I really should go home.” There’s an apology already embedded in your tone, but you add one anyway. “Sorry, but my cat’s been there all night by herself, so…”

“Right.” Remus ignores the dull throb behind his sternum, which is really a bit dramatic. He’ll see you soon, surely. “Yeah, that makes sense. Think you’ll be able to drive?” 

“I mean, I looked outside.” You shrug, backing towards where you’d hung your coat the night before. “The roads here are cleared, which I hope means they’ve gotten to most of them already.” 

“That’s good,” he says, though he feels the opposite. Your poor cat, he’s pitted completely against her now. She’s done nothing to deserve the resentment he’s directing at her, almost petulant in his malcontent. “Good, good.” 

You’re both silent as you put on your shoes, your scarf. It’s not unusual for the two of you, but it lacks its usual easy contentedness. Your eyes flit up as you pull on your new gloves, a silent thanks in them that you know Remus won’t let you voice aloud again. Despite the upset in his chest, he smiles. 

“I…listen, I have to go home,” you tell him, looking down as you wriggle your fingers more snugly into the gloves. “I have to feed my cat. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to…leave.” 

Remus can’t see how that changes anything, but he recognizes it for the olive branch it is. You’re both so uncertain, and you’re trying to alleviate his worries about what you leaving right now means. He can return the favor. 

“I don’t want you to leave either,” he says, “but I get it. She seems important to you, best to keep her well.” 

“Exactly.” You smile, relieved. “But I mean, if you’re not doing anything, you could come meet her? We could pick up breakfast on the way. Or I could make you something there.” 

Remus can’t believe his luck. And, once again, his stupidity in not getting there himself. Why is it that all of a sudden, everything that has to do with you seems so absurdly difficult? At least one of you is thinking clearly. 

“Yeah, that would be fantastic.” He’s grinning hugely, totally unlike him but liking it very much. “Let me grab my coat.” 

“Wait.” There’s a newly familiar breathless quality to your voice, and when Remus turns you’re already coming forward to meet him. Your palm slides against the stubble along his jaw as you stretch your neck, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “There,” you say, timidity shrouded beneath a good layer of happiness, “now we’re even.” 

Remus laughs, loud and startled. He wants to be generous with you, he really does, but he still thinks you’re far from even. “I’m not sure about that, sweetheart,” he says warmly, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your eyebrow, “but we'll get there.” 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! Can I request smt with Luocha, Dan Heng, Argenti and Boothill? (Separate, and dw if u don’t write for boothill ^^)

You’re dating them and randomly call them husband just to see their reaction. You just say it so casually too during a convo with maybe a friend or a family member

Argenti: ‘Argenti might as well be my husband at this point.’ You said to your friend after retelling a story regarding yourself and Argenti.

‘Awww! I wish Royland was more like Argenti.’ Your friend groaned, glaring daggers at the back of their boyfriend’s head.

Argenti visibly perked up at this, his eyes and smile were practically glowing. Did he hear you right, you consider him as a potential Husband? The gods have answered his prayers and quelled any worries that he might’ve had beforehand. For Argenti fully intends to be your husband one day and until then will commit himself to proving to you why he would make an excellent husband.

The moment he met you, to the moment you begun dating, all Argenti could think of was what it would be like being your devoted husband, your soul partner for the rest of your lives. No one else will do for Argenti but you, and he’s so loyal and extremely devoted to being your partner that the thought of looking at anyone else was so blasphemous; so much so that he’d rather hand you his eyes on a gold platter then ever be tempted by any other.

Argenti has had many dreams about your domestic life as a happily married couple, a happily married couple who were very much still in their honeymoon phase, but when he’s your husband that honeymoon phase would never fade away and die. He would make every day feel just as unique and special as the last few.

He might as well have ‘y/n’s husband’ as his name instead of Argenti because of how much he would use it when introducing himself to anyone new.

Needless to say by the end of the month to the day you and Argenti were officially married and more happy than ever.

Luocha: ‘Luocha would make an amazing husband, don’t you agree?’ You asked your friend, eyeing your boyfriend across the room for his reaction.

‘I thought Luocha was already your husband.’ Your friend asked, genuinely confused.

the moment Luocha hears his name being spoken he doesn’t think much of it, but when it was in the same sentence of as the word husband, that well and truly caught his attention. However it doesn’t take him long to realise what you were doing, but once he realised what was going on it was already too late, as the reaction you pulled out of him was very much a genuine one.

Neither of you had talked about it but according to your friend, you must’ve came across as to others a married couple anyways. So much so that even if you were to ever make it a reality nothing much would change at all for anyone other then himself and you; Yet that didn’t change the fact that the seed was planted and has taken ahold inside of Luocha’s mind as he walked towards you and your friend, placing a hand to the small of your back as he politely greeted your friend, acting none the wiser.

Well your friend might not pick up the hidden cues that told you that he knew, but you did, you could pick up his cues as easily as breathing which makes attempts at teasing one another all the more fun and interesting; Luocha could read you like the back of his hand and you were only starting to get the hang of reading him.

So the look he gives you may not seem like much to other people but to you, it was him telling you that he knew what you were doing, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him in victory because he took the bait you had put in place for him. You didn’t need to hear him to know that the first thing he’d ask once you took your leave would be:

‘I don’t think it’s wise of you to tease your husband. Do you?’

Boothill: ‘you and Boothill? Now that I didn’t see coming.’ Your friend joked as if you hadn’t openly said the most outrageous, thirsty shit about your now boyfriend.

‘Watch it because sooner or later he’ll become my husband.’ You joked back as you and your fiend shared a laugh.

Boothill flashes his sharp teeth in a wicked smirk upon hearing you call him your husband.

Oh now you’ve done it. He’s not going to let you live down the fact that you had called him your husband. He refuses to because he wants to see how you’d react to it. So he’ll make his presence know by confidently striding up to you and resting his hand on your waist, squeezing it, before smashing his sharp teeth once more but this time in a Cheshire grin.

‘Husband?’ He’d ask. ‘Have I secretly been promoted from being your boyfriend without my knowledge? I’m honoured sweetheart, but warn a fella next time before you go and pull this sort of stunt off. Oh wait,’ he pauses before continuing. ‘There’s not going to be a next time because you ain’t gonna be getting rid of me anytime soon. You’re stuck with me forever sugar.’ He cackles as he shamelessly swats you on the ass -hard- for good measure.

Yeah your plan kind of back fired on you because now your the one with the extremely flustered face, and now an sore ass that’ll become a bruise on top of that.

Boothill loved the idea of you belonging to him and only him and vice versa. He’s a possessive prick who’ll gladly put a bullet of two between the eyes of any bastard stupid enough to look at you for longer than a second.

He’s not one to share his treasure and never will be. You’re his now unto forever. Also he’d probably jokingly call himself your husband whenever you meet new people along your journey, and or scaring suitors off by screaming that you/him were married. (You very much weren’t but it works in keeping creeps away, so that’s a bonus.)

He plays on it so much that it’s an inside joke between the two of you and the two of you alone.

Dan Heng: ‘my husband Dan Heng, is just outside getting fresh air, he’s not fond of overcrowded social gatherings.’ You explained to your parents who shared a look of understanding.

Dan Heng, who had finally came back into the house, overheard this conversation and immediately his face burst into flames as his palms became sweaty all of a sudden and his breath hitched in his throat.

Husband?

Him?

Is that why he’s been invited for your family vacations with your parents, grandparents and relatives with their spouses of their own? All because they thought he was your husband? Dan Heng thought he was going to faint then and there from how many times he’s mentioned himself as your husband.

You’ve been together for a while now, but the fact that you were calling him your husband had him feeling some type of way that went beyond comprehension. He likes the idea of being your husband and has had a couple of shameless dreams where you very much were married and had a small family of your own, living a peaceful and loving life together and growing old together, still very much in love. However he always seemed to be at a loss for words when wondering whether in an alternate reality his dreams were your lived reality.

Dan Heng has so many thoughts on being your husband, one of them being that he’d be grateful in being chosen to be your life partner, while the other had still yet to find the words to voice his desire in being your husband aloud without being overcome by his own emotions. So until then he’ll have to suffer you freely calling him your husband in the presence of your parents, not that he’s complaining but he’d rather not be asked why his face still went so red when being called your husband, especially after so long of being assumedly married by your parents.

[doberbutts]

The guy who does the lab pickups at my job is an afroarab Muslim guy and he'd been the lab guy for A While prior to me starting and I was in conversation with a coworker when we both realized that we did not know his name. I at least had the excuse of being new, but it shocked her to know that she'd seen this man's face every day and not once had ever thought to ask his name.

So the next time he came in I asked, and he smiled and told me. It was a very Arabic name, and he speaks with a pretty heavy Arabic accent.

Christmas season that year came and went and I asked him if he celebrated. He sort of dodged the question, so the next time I saw him I asked what holidays he did celebrate. He became extremely bashful before mumbling that he just celebrated two. I asked, is it Eid? And he suddenly perked up and smiled said yes, and he observes Ramadan too.

I think, genuinely, that he expected to be punished for reminding me that as an Arab man he was significantly more likely to be Muslim than Christian. I am sure he has heard all sorts of nasty things and experienced all sorts of terrible discrimination. But he was happy when I recognized the signaling, and happy that I wanted to offer my respect to him.

This year, Ramadan is fast approaching, and so is my surgery date. I will be gone for most of Ramadan since it begins two days before my surgery and the day after my leave begins, so I warned him that I wouldn't be there to wish him well during, and I might not be present for Eid depending how long the surgery recovery goes before I can come back to work.

When I tell you this man was visibly worried. I told him I might be able to be back for Eid, and he said "I hope I will see you then."

When I asked him his name, he told me very few people ever bother. I began to make it a point to greet him by name every single day I see him.

And he always greets me back and calls me his friend.

There's no moral to this story. I just. I think this is how I want to live my life. By making it plain that I am standing in solidarity and peace with those even when they are quite different from me.

[fairydvsts-blog]

𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

obx masterlist

summary; your best friend, Rafe, finds out that you're dating someone else and he's not happy about it

warnings; some angst, jealous!Rafe, SMUT, praising and degrading, spanking, oral sex (fem receiving), hickeys, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up you all!)

a/n; english isn't my first language, so you might find some mistakes; I'm open to constructive criticism. Enjoy!

While you were sitting on your bed doing your homework, Rafe suddenly entered your room, looking at you with anger in his ocean blue eyes.

"When were you going to tell me?" he questioned, not even bothering to say hello.

He had showed up unannounced, clearly annoyed at you; but the thing was you had no idea why he was so mad, since you hadn't done anything that could have upset him.

Or so you thought.

"Tell you what, exactly?" you asked.

Your confusion only grew as seconds passed, luckily, Rafe broke the silence and said, "That you're dating someone."

His statement surprised you, you didn't expect him to figure it out that soon; only a week had gone by since you had started seeing the guy. But guess what, Rafe Cameron seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere.

"I don't know, Rafe," you answered him, then added, "I mean, I've barely know him for a few days." You saw his stoic features harden as you talked.

"So what?" he replicated. "You didn't think I would want to know?"

You rolled your eyes at his hypocrisy; he dated a new girl every week and he for sure didn't talk to you about any of them —not that you wanted to know anyways. Why should you tell him then?

"Know what? That I'm fucking someone? I don't recall you telling me such things" you declared as you frowned, starting to get mad at him.

You stood up, taking some steps in his direction, while his eyes widened at your words. He clearly wasn't expecting to hear that.

"You've fucked him?" the blonde snapped; his jaw was visiblely tense.

"Yes, it is wrong now?" you asked him with raised eyebrows at the same time that you crossed your arms.

Your breasts poked out from the neckline of your tank top, drawing Rafe's attention for an instant. Though he looked away quickly, his intense stare made you blush a little and you let go of you arms unconsciously.

"Yeah, it is," he stated, then he added, "you said it yourself, you don't even know him that well."

He was being so unfair to you that your blood started boiling. When he fucked girls at parties, he didn't care about not knowing them; he didn't even ask for their names.

"So what?" you mocked him. "Do you know every girl you've put your dick into?"

He gasped, not knowing how to argue with that; he knew that you had a point, but he wouldn't recognise it.

"It's different," he ended up saying.

"The hell is not," you refuted.

After a few seconds of silence, in which you gave each other a deathly stare, you sighed and decided to speak again, "Sometimes I don't get you, Rafe, I just don't."

Rafe's attitude pissed you off so much; one minute he was all over you, like you were the most precious treasure he had, and the other he was fucking other girl that wasn't you. And it enraged you because you liked him, a lot, even if you didn't want to admit it out loud.

"Bet he doesn't even fuck you properly." His sudden statement made you gasp because he was, in fact, correct.

You couldn't deny the guy sucked at sex, but he was popular and good-looking and just happened to be at that party where Rafe stood you up for some blonde chick; and given that you wanted him to feel as jealous as you felt when he fucked other girls, you couldn't prove him right.

So you held your head high and, then, you lied, "I think he does it quite well actually."

You had to look up at him after he took a step closer, fixating his fiery eyes in yours. Suddenly, you were so close together that you could feel his warm breathing in your skin.

"Bet I could fuck you so much better."

He left you open-mouthed and your heart started hammering in your chest as he spoke. When he finished talking, he licked his lips with a smirk and your eyes betrayed you, looking closely at his mouth.

On a normal basis, you would have been intimidated by him, but that day you were feeling bolder than ever, so you rose up on your toes to reach his ear and whispered, "Then fuckin' prove it."

He shortened the distance between the both of you, grabbing your chin between his fingers and connecting your lips with his; the action took you by surprise and your eyes widened for a moment. In just seconds, the kiss became so hungry and desperate that your breath hitched and your legs started feeling like jelly.

Your hands caressed his cheeks, feeling the stubble on his jaw, while you closed your eyes. As the kiss deepened, you felt his bigs hands grabbing your butt and then Rafe lift you up so that he could place you in top of your bed. You felt your notes getting crushed, so, without breaking the kiss, you fumbled on the mattress for the sheets to toss them to the ground.

After that, you took off his cap, throwing it aside, to tangle your fingers in his messy hair. You pulled his blonde locks to push him away in order to start undressing; your eyes didn't leave his as you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and removed it. His eyes dropped from your eyes to your exposed breasts and his breathing became heavier.

He stood still for a few seconds, just staring at your body, before saying, "You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

He leaned over you to take one of your nipples between his lips, sucking at it like a man starved. You moaned at his action as your hands sneaked under his polo shirt to touch his soft skin; when he let go of your nipple with a loud pop, you decided to take it off.

As you put his shirt aside, he started to kiss and lick your neck, marking it. You were sure he'd leave love bites all over it and the thought of everyone seeing his marks on your body only made you wetter.

You had waited so long for that moment that it felt unreal.

"I want that fuckin' asshole to know who you really belong to, baby," he stated, gently bitting your collarbone.

His hand wandered over your left thigh, caressing your naked skin, until it reached your shorts. He looked at your face, asking for permission to undress you completely; you nodded to make him know that it was okay. Rafe smirked and, then, took off your shorts and underwear.

He didn't waste any time after that; he just buried his face between your legs. His action took you by surprise and you gasped for air while you grabbed at your bedsheets, moaning loudly when he sucked hungrily at your clit. Your back arched because of the pleasure his talented tongue was giving you, licking every sensitive part of your pussy from your entrance to your bundle of nerves.

Seconds later, you felt how Rafe placed his tongue right onto your clit again, licking it up and down at a tortuous pace. Your legs started shaking and you grabbed his hair to bring his head closer to you; he was almost suffocating in your pussy, but he couldn't think of a better way of dying. You felt a little bit ashamed when you started cumming after just a few minutes of stimulation, however, Rafe encouraged you to do so.

"That's it, baby, cum in my face like the little slut you are," he said, rubbing your clit with his thumb to help you ride your orgasm.

"Oh my god! Rafe!" you moaned, desperately grinding your pussy against his mouth.

The pleasure clouded all of your senses for what seemed minutes and when the feeling went away, you looked down to find his blue eyes staring at you, mesmerised.

"I love you," he admitted, climbing over you to kiss your lips hungrily but you couldn't return the kiss.

"What?" you asked, totally surprised by his confession.

"I love you, baby, do you love me?" he answered, caressing your cheek while he placed himself between your legs.

It took you a few seconds to react, but you finally said, "I love you, Rafe."

He smiled at you, giving you a short kiss before unbuttoning his short dress pants under your attentive gaze. You tried to help him undress but he didn't allow it, grabbing your hips to turn you around and place you over your stomach. After that, Rafe couldn't resist the urge to spank you and his action made you moan.

"Stay still, baby," he ordered while he finished undressing.

"Again," you demanded, ignoring his request.

You heard his laughter.

"So my little slut likes to be spanked... Interesting," he pointed out, positioning behind you and lifting your hips from the mattress.

Then, he slapped you again, harder that time, and you moaned, feeling your pussy getting wetter —if that was possible. You looked back, finding him in all his naked glory and your cheeks turned red at the sight.

He was gorgeous, every part of him.

"Please, Rafe," you begged, shaking your butt in need of some sort of friction.

"Fuck, baby, you have the prettiest cunt," he told you, rubbing the thick head of his cock over your clit and you squirmed in response, "I'm going to fucking destroy you, sweetheart."

He penetranted you in one single thrust, taking your breath away because of the sudden intrusion. He was big and it took you a few minutes to adjust to his size, but he didn't push your limits, thrusting into you slowly and carefully at first, which made it more pleasant for you.

When he felt that you were ready to take more, he started pounding into you faster; his dick filled you perfectly, it was like he was made to fuck you, and in no time you were a moaning mess under him. With each thrust, his pelvis hit your ass cheeks, pushing you hard against the mattress.

"I wish you could see yourself, baby," he panted, slapping your thigh while he screwed you hard, "You look like a fucking goddess."

The bedroom was too hot; his skin was covered in sweat and it felt sticky against yours. He leaned over you, reaching for your neck to cover it with wet kisses. At the same time, his right hand trailed toward your pussy, pressing and rubbing your clit with two fingers. You held onto his arm, digging your fingernails into his skin unintentionally due to the pleasure.

You bit your lower lip so hard that your drew blood. He noticed it, so he grabbed your jaw with his free hand to bring your mouth closer to his and licked your lip clean.

"I'm so close, Rafe," you announced, whimpering on his lips.

"I know, baby, I can feel your pretty pussy tightening around my cock," he moaned next to your ear, giving you goosebumps.

Hearing Rafe's moans was your new favourite thing in the world.

"My little slut is gonna cum all over my cock?" He asked, caressing your back until he reached your ass, spanking you again.

"Rafe, yes! I'm cumming!" you almost screamed in pleasure, trembling in his strong arms.

Your muscles became so thigh that your orgasm triggered his own.

"Fuck, baby, I'm cumming too," he warned, trying to pull out because he wasn't wearing a condom, but you stopped him from doing so.

You didn't want your orgasm ruined.

"Inside, please," you begged.

Rafe pounded into you one last time before he came with a loud moan, filling you with his cum. He kept thrusting into you for a few seconds to ride his climax and then he collapsed over you on the mattress. It took him a moment to move to the side to cuddle with you; both of you were gasping for breath.

"Who fucks you better then?"

You couldn't help but smile and answered, "You do, Rafe."

[mybworlds]

Into your arms, the safest place

pairing: olderboyfriend!Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: You love Joel, you always have and you do everything you can to remind him of it every day.

Warnings: unspecified age gap, he's older than you, Joel is an insecure, back pain, use of you and Joel pov, not Y/N, the main character has female features, but no specific physical description so you can imagine her as you want. Established relationship, fluff moments, moments of daily life, hints of a sexual relationship, but in this one shot I'll be quite generic although some moments are precise if you know what I mean.

A/N: After reading a few posts about Joel, headcanons, etc my mind gave birth to this one-shot. I hope you like it, if you don't it's okay.

You love Joel. And he loves you. You both would do anything for each other. Even put up with things that the other finds enjoyable, but the other finds them indifferent. For example, Joel loves watching 80's movies, you keep him company, but only because you love to see his face relax and smile in front of some scene that he adores or makes him laugh and you enjoy the sight of his face relaxing for those films even if to your eyes they seem banal or unlikely. And you know that he watches reality shows with you on the couch just because he wants to see you happy by his side or watches stupid cat videos on Tiktok with you just because you giggle when you watch them waving your legs for fun.

You think about how far you've come together to be there, how many lies you've had to tell to see him, how many arguments and tantrums you've had with your parents because of your age difference.

You and Joel met at your parents' house, he had come to fix some things that were no longer working at home and that's where you shook hands and smiled warmly for the first time. You remember that you immediately found him sexy as hell, a little taciturn and brusque perhaps, but not to be criticized or despised as your mother did. At first you were around him just to follow the work he was doing, then slowly you started talking about his work, your work as a teacher, about your lives and you liked each other.

But, because of your age, Joel has always kept you at a distance in the hope that sooner or later you would meet a young man of your age rather than someone like him, a man of experience, a man with a broken marriage and a grown-up daughter who lives far away, but you've never seen other kids your age. Your best friends have also tried to dissuade you from the idea of being with Joel, but they have never succeeded even today when they ask you if you regret your choice, you always said that you love him as he is with his infinite merits and many defects.

Joel has always been afraid of losing you, he was afraid - and you're sure he still is - of losing you that you'd find him too old for you or too unattractive considering his gray hair that sprout here and there among his hair and beard every other day. But you always managed to reassure him and make him feel all your love and put aside his fears.

You managed to arouse Joel's interest from the very first moment, from when you were standing in the doorway watching him work and then you fascinated him when you transmitted to him all your love and your dedication to your work. You are a beautiful person, he remembers thinking from the very beginning. Your energy was clearly visible from the first glance and then, knowing you, he was sure of it. When you shyly confided in him that you had fallen in love with him, Joel thought it was a joke because there was no way a wonderful woman like you could want an old man like him. He later told you that he was flattered by your interest, but he pushed you to look at other boys, not at him. And you, in response, kissed him.

It wasn't easy at first because Joel realized that your family turned their backs on you because you chose him. He has always felt guilty about this, but you have never blamed him or reproached him for that. You chose him and the love you have for each other.

The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months and you still haven't gotten tired of him. Every evening when he comes home from work, you welcome him with a warm smile and kiss him happily.

This evening you get up from the table where you correct your students' homework and go to meet him, smiling and kissing him.

“You are beautiful, my love,” he whispers in your ear, kissing your lips first, your cheek then and burying his nose in your hair, while he hugs you tightly and feels you kiss the crook of his neck.

“I missed you,” you coo softly kissing his graying beard, his chin and back up the other side, “You are hot as hell, babe.” It's amazing how it seems like you can almost sense what he's feeling about his scruffy beard and his increasingly graying hair.

He smiles. He remembers how uncomfortable he felt in the early days when his few friends told him that he was probably having a midlife crisis dating a hot chick like you. He blushed, maybe they were right, although he loved (and loves) you deeply. For him you were never a passing thing to be forgotten in some time, as his friends told him, you were and are always more. He's so deeply in love with you.

“I prepared a dish for you, love,” you tell him wrapping your arms around his neck “I guess you didn't eat anything, right?” You ask thoughtfully and he loves that about you too. He makes sure to tell you this every day because he's always so afraid that you might realize one day that you want more, that you want a different person by your side, that he is not enough for you.

“You're still my wonderful, gorgeous girl,” he whispers in your ear. “I'm a lucky man,” he adds, gently kissing your earlobe and you shiver. He can clearly see the shivers rippling across your skin, and when they do, he places more kisses along your neck and shoulder. He loves hearing you giggle and holding you tighter. “How was your day?” He asks, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Full, but you know I love my boys. They are always so full of creativity, energy, and then they are incredibly challenging. And. . . What?” you pause, noticing the small smile forming at the corners of his lips.

“When you talk about your students, your eyes light up.” he replies, smiling widely “I'd only go back to school if I had a teacher who knows what she's doing and who teaches with a smile on her face like you always do.”

Your smile becomes even wider if possible, “Why, what was your teacher like? Miss Rottenmeier?” you joke.

He shakes his head smiling, “No, but she wasn't beautiful as you are, baby girl.” You relax against him “Anyway, I was thinking that tomorrow night we could go out to dinner, would that be okay with you?”

“Sure, now let's go have dinner, I'm starving!” you exclaim grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen.

“You haven't had dinner yet?! Oh, poor lil thin’, I'm sorry.” He says as you sit down to eat "I'm sorry, I thought that considering the time you had eaten!" He adds sincerely sorry.

“You know that if you don't come back I won't be able to relax and eat.” You reply, biting with great gusto into the vegetable pie you had prepared.

The two of you talk at length about the new project that Joel is personally involved in, what he does, what he thinks he's going to do. His eyes light up and then you can't help but notice the passion and the energy he puts into talking about his work. It's something you've always loved about him. You remember when he told you about the fixes he was doing to your parents' house and all the technicalities he used. He probably noticed how you pursed your lips or the look on your face that you didn't understand what he was talking about and so he rephrased his words and from that moment on you never stopped talking.

You think back to that night of your first kiss, you remember how you were afraid of being rejected, but at the same time you didn't want to lose him. You noticed his ears turn red and his tone hesitant after your confession, but you knew what you wanted and most of all you wanted him.

He has always made you feel good, treated you well and with respect, he makes you happy in everything, even if he is tired after a day of hard work, just to see you happy, he would take you out to dinner. But you never asked for anything more from him than love and mutual respect.

You remember the first time you made love, you had already had other experiences, but in his arms it seemed like you had never done it, that you were still a virgin. You made love against each other's foreheads, your hot breaths mingling, your vision blurred with pleasure, even though you did everything you could to look into his eyes and don't miss a single expression of his. His hands gently cupping your face as he kissed you and thrust in and out of you sending jolts of pure pleasure up your spine.

“Whadda ya thin’?” he asks looking into your eyes and seeking your hand which he wraps in his and caresses it with a thumb.

“I was thinking about when we made love,” you answer smiling at him lasciviously "and when we met."

His smile becomes tender and his eyes sweet and soft looking almost like a puppy's. Oh, you love so much his well defined masculine features, his wrinkles.

“And I thought you never wanted to show me one of your photo albums! I'd love to see that so much,” you squeak, looking at him with doe eyes that you know make him melt.

Joel has jealously hidden them from your sight, not because he has something to hide, but because he is afraid that you might realize how old he is compared to you and that you might like him better the way he was. And so he always delayed that moment by telling you tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, but now what excuse can he make up?

“Oh, c'mon, babe, I'd love so much,” you meow using a pleading tone and kissing him in a quick, gentle motion. You know he won't be able to resist. And in fact, he rolls his eyes and after muttering a stubborn lil’ thing to you, he wipes his lips and a little piece of food on his scruffy beard, he gets up and you see him disappear into the corridor.

A couple of minutes later, he reappears in the doorway with an open album in his hands and his gaze lost in a photo. Then he looks up and immediately finds your curious, “There it is,” he says placing the heavy tome in front of you on the table “I hope you're not disappointed by the comparison between what I was and what I am.” He says with his head down, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

Your expression becomes surprised and sad because you understand that Joel is afraid of losing you and that you might find him less attractive today than in photographs when he was younger.

“Never.” you just whisper to him, holding out your hand which he immediately grabs, while you invite him to sit next to you.

His photographs show a decidedly younger Joel, the wrinkles are much less visible and superficial, the beard is less thick and sparser, the expression is more tender and shy, but his eyes are always the same sweet and deep, the same ones that made you fall in love with him.

“You are so beautiful,” you whisper “and I’m so in love with you and I’m so lucky to have you by my side.” You add kissing him softly.

“Boo,” he says rubbing his nose against yours “I'm the lucky one.” He says kissing you “And I will do anything to make you happy, but please, if you ever realize that you are no longer happy with me, just tell me.”

You know you're not going to calm him down by just telling him it'll never happen, so you say, “You know me. You know how stubborn and determined I am.”

He rests his forehead against yours, “I know. And that's also why I love you, my love.” He confesses to you, while you sit on his lap. You love feeling his hands on your hips or when he holds you tightly to him. Joel, even if he doesn't speak, is able with his gaze or with his gestures to make you feel like the luckiest woman in the world. So when he tells you that if you are no longer sure of your love for him, you would also like to tell him that no one has ever made you feel as special as he does.

“Oh, baby,” he groans, pulling you closer to his crotch, “if I didn't have this terrible back pain, I'd take you in my arms and we'd go to bed right away.” He confesses to you in a hoarse voice.

“Oh, damn!” You exclaim, moving away from him and getting up from on top of him, he looks at you puzzled, “Come on, get up, let's go to bed.” He looks at you with that lewd look and you roll your eyes and snicker, “Don't be so smart, come on.”

When you're in bed, you don't really know how long you can resist him if while you're giving him a back massage he keeps grunting and moaning telling you how good you make him feel. You are practically sitting on his ass while massaging his spine, shoulder blades and hips.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he moans “I love you so much,” he adds in a whisper and you smile.

“Why do I give you amazing massages?” you tease him, continuing to move your open palms first along his back and then closing them into fists.

“Because no one has ever understood me like you do. With you, there's no need for many words. We understand each other with our eyes.”

“Are we soulmates or not, you and I?” You ask him and receive another moan of pleasure in response. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You add playfully.

He is so grateful for what you are doing. And when you say you are soul mates, he couldn't agree more. You are the perfect woman for him. Sometimes a little chatty, but other times the most understanding even without saying anything to you. He never thought it possible to find a love you. True love. He had always been convinced that his other half had been his ex-wife and that once he was alone, he would never have a real chance again. Then one day you came along and that was the moment he started breathing again. He thought that a young woman like you would get tired of him in a few weeks, but that's not the case. You are there for him, when he wants to vent about a problem, when he talks about his daughter who gives him a lot of trouble, when he wants to watch old movies, you listen to him, give him advice, support him and you watch movies with him, you lie down with your head on his lap and watch them with him. And he who never understood the meaning started following various trends just because you showed them to him and watching videos on Tiktok with you. And he started to love it.

“I love you, baby girl.” he says, caressing your legs in a sweet gesture. Your skin crawls as you continue. "I can feel it," he moans with his eyes closed as he continues his caress.

“What?” you ask leaning forward and placing a kiss on his shoulder, savouring the contact with his skin filling him with kisses.

He smiles, “Are you trying to seduce me?” He asks you, as you lean on top of him and brush his cheek against yours.

“I don't need to do this.” you say kissing his lips and he opens his hazel eyes “Never doubt how I feel about you, I love you and you know that in your arms I am perfectly safe. I love you, babe.”

He shifts slightly making you move from on top of him and lie down next to him where you cuddle and then make love again and again.

Joel loves the idea of you carrying his child, but he's afraid to broach the subject with you because you're young and maybe you don't want kids, maybe not yet. So he has never told you or pressured you in any way, but when he is completely buried inside you he can't help but think what it would be like if you told him you were carrying his child.

You moan deliciously in his ear his name as he makes you come and you intertwine his fingers with yours. Tonight Joel is making you enjoy like never before by giving you more than one climax. You are almost exhausted, some tears escape you and he wipes your tears away with his thick thumbs, whispering to you in a low, hoarse voice, “s’alright, baby girl, you're such a good girl fo’ me” wrapping you in his arms while you twist your face into an expression of pure pleasure as you collapse on top of him.

“I love you,” you say “Into your arms, there's the safest place”.

[kasagia]

District boy

Pairing: young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader; doppëlganger! Finnick Odair x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: You and Corio were very close (best) friends. Young Snow had a crush on you for a very long time. But he wouldn't let anything distract him—not until he got his family out of their financial troubles. And then comes the 10th Hunger Games, in which you get to be a mentor for a very handsome tribute... Coryo isn't happy about it at all. Requested by: Two anonymous. I hope you will like it! 😊💙🖤 Warning(s): jealous Coriolanus Snow; (doppëlganger) of Finnick Odair; the author doesn't care that it is impossible; Coryo being simp for the reader; reader flirts with Finnick; quote from 'My tears ricochet' by Taylor Swift; Words count: 7k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

Coriolanus did not remember the exact moment when this happened.

Everything that had to do with you came to him very... naturally.

Before he knew it, one joint project for one of your classes turned into daily discussions in the cafeteria. You entered his very small circle of 'friends' like you should have always belonged there and unknowingly became the best friend to young Snow.

And then you started staying in the library after classes, talking about various things (Coriolanus hated himself for wasting his time when he should have been studying on pointless discussions with you, but he always ended up in the library at the end of the day anyway).

And so one day he realised that you were wonderful when you laughed at his jokes. That the smell of your perfume made him hungrier than the baked goods that spread from the bakery he passed by every day on his way to the Academy. That he was missing something as he basked in the glow of your attention. That he would like you to be with him at all times, not only within the walls of the Academy, cafes (he never ordered himself anything, trying to stop his stomach from growling as he watched you eat the cake, occasionally offering him a bite), or the park. That he would like to have you completely to himself and hide you from the eyes of other people who, in his opinion, were not worthy of an ounce of your attention.

He remembered snapping at Festus when he asked him if you were seeing anyone. As if Coriolanus' claim about you wasn't obvious enough to him.

Although you also remained blind to his obvious feelings, which Sejanus said were as visible as an approaching change in the weather in the Rocky Mountains. By the way, he wondered when Sejanus would forget those catchphrases from District 2. They were very tiring and boring to listen to.

But Snow decided to let you stay in the dark for a little longer and admire you in silence, from his place next to you as your best friend. He promised himself that when he won the Plinth Prize, he would conquer not only the world but you and your heart. After all, he couldn't imagine anyone else being his First Lady than you.

He knew that his fascination with you was gradually turning into an unhealthy obsession. But what else could he do when you took his breath away just by existing? And Coryo wasn't used to not having control over his emotions. But with you... you could do whatever you wanted with him. And he was terrified, both by the fact that you had such power over him and by the fact that you were completely unaware of it.

However, everything was going according to his plan. He stayed by your side, guarding you like a gardener's dog and waiting for the moment when he would finally be worthy of you and make you his. And you seemed to obediently dismiss every admirer.

Until the 10th Hunger Games came along.

And a certain district boy stole too much of your attention for Coriolanus' liking. After all, you were HIS. Even if you didn't know about it yet.

"Hello, petal." He whispers in your ear, walking up to you from behind.

Surprised, you choke on the champagne you drank in secret from your parents and other participants in the reaping party at the Academy. He smiles in amusement, gently patting your back and discreetly placing the glass of champagne on the table for you.

"Coriolanus Snow, someday I'll put a fucking bell around your neck like my mother's cats have." You say, coughing. He laughs softly, offering you his arm, which you take once you've recovered.

"I thought you considered it brutal?" He replies sarcastically, glancing at the dress you were in, which hugged your curves perfectly.

A white dress that Tigris made for you 'coincidentally' matched perfectly with the outfit he was currently wearing. He had never been more proud of his cousin than he was now.

"I'm surprised that you think you're on an equal footing with my cats. You're no match for them, Snow." He rolls his eyes at you, but he can't help but smirk a little at your laugh.

"We will see." You snorted at that. You notice Sejanus in the crowd talking to his parents.

"I'll go say hello." You say, nodding towards Sejanus. But before you can take a step towards him, Coryo's grip on you tightens. You give him a questioning look, focusing your gaze on him.

"Stay with me. You know I don't like talking to them all by myself. Especially with Arachne. Sejan will be joining us soon." You sigh, rolling your eyes at him, but you don't try to fight his grip or let go of his arm as he leads you towards the group of your classmates.

"I spoil you too much, Snow."

"Nonsense, you could do better." You laugh in amusement, and he smiles at the sound of that.

But his good mood and relaxed demeanour quickly turned into a stoic expression. You feel him tense slightly and straighten, as if preparing for a fight, when you approach your classmates.

"Snow and Y/L/N. As always, together. You could finally make up your mind, darling, and choose one of them instead of hanging around him and Plinth." Arachne greets you, as always, nicely, at which you laugh artificially.

"Why should I when I can have both?" You reply with a shrug, making some of them laugh. However, you are most pleased with Arachne's grimace and the small smile on Coryo's lips.

"Usually it's the district girls who act like whores." You feel Coryo tense next to you, his eyes turning a cold, icy shade as he stares at the girl in front of you. If looks could kill, Coryo would become a serial killer. However, he could certainly make someone feel insecure and intimidated.

"Usually inheritance hunters don't complete their education and end up marrying some rich fool at the earliest opportunity, even before they turn 18. And yet here you are, Arachnie. I think that makes us both surprised then." You reply before Coryo can react. Festus shakes his head and stares at the both of you in amusement as you sinisterly glare at each other.

"Ladies, why all these quarrels? We already know who Y/N will end up with."

"And who is it, Festus?"

"Me." You shake your head at that, amused. However, Coryo, standing next to you, doesn't share your humor. He pulls you slightly closer to him, giving you a fleeting glance before focusing on Festus.

"For now, she's not on your shoulder, Creed."

"Enjoy it while you can, Snow. We'll see how things go when we enrol in university." You see Coriolanus tighten his jaw at his remark. You squeeze his arm slightly tighter, making him shift his gaze to you. You smile as he relaxes slightly under your attention.

"You made it to the graduation, Festus. You shouldn't set higher expectations for yourself than that." Sejan's voice echoes behind you. You snorted in amusement and turned around in Coryo's embrace; somehow you managed to get out of them enough to wrap your arms around your friend. "Y/N. You look as beautiful as always. Arachne, who are you trying to fool with this white outfit?" You hide your face behind Coryo's shoulder, trying to hold back a burst of laughter.

You feel Sejanus wrapping his arm around you. Now, you are held by your two friends, and the one with the lighter hair is definitely unhappy about having to share you with Plinth, but you are not able to notice it since the reaping is finally starting.

A murmur of women's whispers echoed throughout the room as a very handsome man emerged from the crowd. You leaned forward slightly, taking a closer look at the tall, athletic, and chiselled man with tanned skin and bronze hair.

With just one look into his stunning sea-green eyes and after seeing the huge, charming smile he sent for the cameras, you knew that whoever got this man was going to be the winner. Because no tribute ever made as much money from sponsors as a sinfully hot man usually did.

And this one was a special sight for the eyes. The reaction of most of the female part of the room and the jealous and furious looks of the men at the reaction of their other halves confirmed your suspicions.

"This boy from 4 belongs to Miss Y/N Y/L/N."

You licked your lips, smiling wolfishly, and watched your tribute on the screen. You were so lucky.

"You damn lucky dog." Persephone whispers in your ear and slaps your shoulder playfully. You give her a half-smile and shrug as the cameramen spend a little more time showing your tribute.

"What can I say... maybe I'll only attract hot men from now on? I hope his muscles aren't just for good looks, because that would be a shame." She shakes her head at your words, holding back a laugh. You smile and involuntarily glance at Coriolanus.

He immediately looks away from you. His jaw is set, and his leg bounces slightly. Anyone else would think he was relaxed and calm. But you knew him too well to assume that.

He was already nervous the moment Clem took your seat, and you were forced to sit in the second row, away from him. Coriolanus doesn't like it. He would rather hold your hand, feel the warmth of your body close to yours, and smell the faint scent of your perfume than sneak glances over his shoulder to keep an eye on you.

Sometimes he knows he can be painfully obvious, but he thanks fate for at least being kind enough to keep you unaware of his feelings for you. He would have you. Just not yet. First, his tribute had to win the damn Hunger Games so he could win Plinth's prize. Then he could make his move without fear of you discovering his family's financial situation. Finally, snow lands on top. And he spent many sleepless nights imagining that he would land on top of you.

You catch his gaze, but you don't have time to analyse his attitude. After a while, Lucy Gray appears on the screen, and you see that your handsome guy will have some competition for the Capitol's favour.

And the possible competition with your best friend makes you feel very uncomfortable. So much so that you don't notice the hateful glare Coriolanus shot at your tribute as the operators once again showed off the likenesses of this year's tributes.

Finnick Odair. A new obstacle in his plan that he had to eliminate. And not just to win the Hunger Games...

You haven't spoken to Coryo since then. Which was an extremely strange phenomenon because you were usually attached to each other at the hip.

Although you had seen him briefly during classes and now, when most of the mentors had gathered around the cage at the zoo to find their tributes and give them something to eat or drink, he didn't even spare you a second glance as he was fully focused on Lucy Gray.

Something was wrong with him.

Especially after his little stunt at the train station and his conversation with Dr. Gaul. Because of which, now (and mainly because of Sejanus' statement), you stand nervously near the bars, looking for your tribute.

And you couldn't help but wonder what exactly the Hunger Games were for. The more you thought about it, the more you started to side with Sejanus.

The First Rebellion may have done you great harm, but was it any wonder that the people of the district rebelled? After all, if any of you were born outside the Capitol, you would probably do what they did. So what was the point of murdering 23 of the young unfortunates who had been singled out for slaughter?

“You seem lost.” A voice next to you pulls you from your thoughts. You turn around, seeing your tribute leaning against the bars and watching you carefully. If he was hot on TV, he looked gorgeous in real life. His cheekbones and jaws look like they had been carved with chisels by the best of the artists. And his eyes... you wonder how such men could be born and live in any district. "Unless you're looking for something. Or someone, if I may boldly assume."

"Y/N Y/L/N. Your mentor." You say, reaching your hand out towards him through the bars. He takes your hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. You can't help but notice how soft his lips are against your skin. You blush slightly, and you can almost feel Flickerman's eyes and cameras behind you.

"I figured it out. Fate must be a little kind to me after all. Giving me the most beautiful of mentors as my guardian angel."

"You'll be able to say that when you win the Hunger Games." You reply, taking your hand from his and pulling food and drink out of your bag for him.

"When?" He asks, taking the cookie from you and immediately biting into it. That view is squeezing you with sadness, seeing how hungry he is. Despite everything, he still carries himself with grace and is extremely charming. You hope that the cameras will show him often. "How can you be so sure?"

"You are handsome. You attract women's attention. If you maintain that charming attitude of yours, you will probably earn quite a lot of money with those pretty eyes and smile. At least enough to not die of hunger or dehydration in the arena." You reply, searching for something else in your bag.

"Under different circumstances, I would be grateful for so many compliments, angel." You look up, meeting his gaze. And something inside you tells you that, in fact, if the circumstances were different, you would be talking about something completely different right now... or doing something much more enjoyable.

"When you win, who knows? Once a tribute stayed in the Capitol after winning." You say, handing him your cousin's old white sweater that he found in the closet.

"Sorry, honey, but I doubt I'd want to stay in the Capitol. Even for such a nice view." He says this, unabashedly taking off the slightly torn and dirty shirt he was wearing.

He soaks it in the water you gave him and rinses himself off, putting on a show for the entire Capitol audience to watch thanks to the cameras trained on him and the people in the zoo. You lick your lips, trying not to openly stare at the muscles on his chest and act rude (or, in this case, like a horny teenager).

"You're behind bars." You clear your throat, reminding him that there are probably no good views from the cage. You took the courage to look him in the eyes again only after he got dressed.

"And I look at a beautiful girl, what more could I want?"

You laugh loudly and honestly at this. He joins you, and the other mentors and the rest of the tributes look at you like you're crazy. You're too busy looking at the handsome man in front of you to notice Coryo giving him a dagger glare and clenching her fists in anger.

But Lucy Gray does it.

And she perfectly recognises jealousy in the eyes of others. Especially pure anger and the beginnings of forming a plan for revenge. After all, that's how she ended up here.

The day before reaping, Mayfair Lipp had a similar look in her eyes.

Which makes her come to the conclusion that maybe her mentor isn't as good a person as she initially assumed.

"Excuse me for a moment." Snow mutters to her as he walks towards the two of you, leaving her to the children who came to look at her dress.

You and Finnick chat casually about things completely unrelated to Games. Coriolanus notices that the boy from the district reached through the bars for your hand, showing you different lines on it, probably doing some trick or foretelling stupid things.

But what added fuel to Snow's anger was the fact that, in addition to the district's underdog daring to touch you, he also made your face blush. Something Coriolanus has never managed to do.

"Y/N." He says, interrupting the conversation between the two of you. Seeing that he is watching you, you move away from the boy, calming down his anger a little. "We have to get back to the Academy. We have another class soon."

"Oh. Yes." you say, the disappointment is very audible in your voice, which makes him even more angry and jealous.

Why on earth would this piece of trash from the district deserve your attention, or maybe even affection, when Coriolanus was standing right next to you?

"I'll be back again. If you need anything, I'll get it for you." You say, giving a soft smile to your tribute. Coryo almost growls in anger, knowing full well that this worm doesn't deserve your kindness.

"Everything's fine, angel. Don't worry too much." He replies with his charming smirk, making Coryo want to impale his head through the metal wires of his cage.

He wraps his hand around your waist and catches your gaze as he nods towards the exit of the zoo. Taking advantage of your moment of distraction as you watch Arachne torment her tribute, Coriolanus gives your tribute a cold look and squeezes your waist a little tighter. Odair looks at him impassively, but the slight tightening of his jaw tells Snow that the boy got the hint.

No matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to touch you like Coryo was doing right now.

Coryo shouldn't be concerned about a boy from the district, especially one who competed in the Hunger Games, but he couldn't just let that bastard flirt with HIS girl.

Your terrified gasp brings him out of his thoughts. He automatically places his hands on your shoulders, pulling you closer to him and looking around for whatever scared you. And she sees Arachne's tribute grab her by the neck and pull her towards her, holding a broken bottle in her other hand.

He feels you try to break free from his grip, but instead of letting you go and running towards Arachne and her tribute, he spins you around and presses your face into his chest just as Arachne's neck pierces the glass of the bottle.

He feels you tremble in his arms, hearing the screams and shots of the Peacekeepers, who open fire too late and kill the crazy girl from the district.

"You're safe. Nothing will happen to you. Not with me." He whispers to you as he feels your tears soak his shirt, and he falls even more in love with you, seeing you cry even for a bitch like Arachne.

He places a kiss on the top of your head and leads you out of the zoo and to your car. He glances briefly at Lucy Gray to make sure they didn't shoot her by accident. He angrily accepts that your tribute is also unharmed.

He feels a little better, though, when he sees how your tribute shoots a jealous, angry glare at him, holding you close to his chest. And Coriolanus can't help but wink arrogantly at him.

"Focus." You tell the tribute in front of you as you discuss plans to build the Arena with him. Finnick, however, prefers to play with the bracelet on your wrist.

"Rose quartz. You know you don't get things like that from just anyone?" He asks, examining the stone. You remove your wrist from his grasp and raise a questioning eyebrow at him.

"My friend gave me this."

"That creepy blonde? Adorable. If he took his eyes off you for more than 5 seconds."

You roll your eyes at him and turn your gaze away from him to glance at Coryo. He's talking to, or rather listening to, Lucy Gray as he stares blankly at the pen and paper in front of him. He senses your gaze and turns around. You give him a soft smile, and he nods at you and goes back to listening to his tribute.

"Coryo doesn't like being alone among people he doesn't trust or know. And after yesterday, he's… more caring. It's natural."

"And does this Coryo of yours often give you old bracelets with a stone symbolising love?" You frown, examining the bracelet he gave you for your 18th birthday.

"It belonged to his mother. He probably thought it was pretty and that's why he gave it to me. It does not mean anything." You explain to him, at which he just shakes his head in disbelief, apparently not trusting in the good intentions of your friend. You want to go back to discussing your arena survival plan with him, but he won't let you say a word.

"Hmm... if I hadn't been chosen in the reaping and we had met under different circumstances, and if I were rich, I would have given you a necklace with pearls and pieces of angelite."

"Why?" You ask curiously, hoping that once he says what he wants, you two will go back to discussing plans. But you wonder how the hell he knows the meaning of the stones.

"Pearls are a symbol of wisdom, calmness, integrity, and serenity. They also remind me of the ocean. How old fishermen told us stories about beautiful sirens who attracted them by singing."

"Like Lucy Gray?" You ask with a smirk, thinking he might like the female tribute.

"I was thinking of another beauty." He says his fingertips are brushing against yours as much as the cuffs on his wrists would allow.

You blush when he flirts with you. You can't say that it bothers you or that you are indifferent. After all, he was very handsome. You don't see Coryo frown, staring daggers at the place where your hands lightly brush against each other.

"What about angelite? Why it?"

"It's a kind of peaceful crystal. Some believe that it helps to bring a guardian angel closer to you. After being chosen in the reaping... I wasn't quite at peace. And then I looked at you, and somehow..." He pauses, staring at your hands. You grab his hands tight, making his sea-green eyes look back into yours in surprise at your sudden gesture.

"I promise I will do everything in my power to make you survive this. You don't have to trust me, but trust in this."

"Because you want the prize?" He asks suspiciously, and you shake your head with a slight chuckle. You're not surprised that he's distrustful. After all, most mentors had this in mind. The prize. Not a human life that was in their hands.

"Because I can't stand the thought of someone like you dying in the arena." You admit it. You unconsciously lean into each other as you stroke your fingers over the back of his hand, drawing little patterns on it.

"Someone like me? Underdog from the district?"

"A handsome man with a good heart. Do not look at me like this. I saw you sharing water and food with that sick little girl—Dill and the other one... Wovey I think? You are a good man, Finncik Odair." You say with confidence.

His eyes light up for a moment, and for the first time, you see his real, unforced, warm smile. He didn't play the charming boy. Not this time.

"I guess that makes two of us, angel. I saw someone giving her medicine last night and extra food. I doubt it was their mentors."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." You both laugh at your answer. And somehow you can't help but blush—the flutter in your stomach that's caused by the way he looks at you and that damn beautiful, genuine smile—that's nothing compared to his charming façade.

Someone's burning gaze focused on you, which you feel on your temple, makes you let go of the tribute's hand, embarrassed. You look around discreetly, noticing Coryo's cold gaze that makes you shiver. He's never looked at you like that... at least not in your direction. It takes you a few seconds to realise that his gaze isn't on you at all, but on the man sitting across from you.

"Can you get me a trident? And some nets?"

"Trident?" You ask distractedly, making a note of his request anyway.

"To the arena. To put on a show and collect more donations." You nod, your thoughts fully returning to Finnick. You tell yourself that you're making something up. After all, Coryo is just your friend.

"I'll see what I can do. You also need to think about what you will do on tomorrow's TV appearance." You remind him, writing down in your notebook the things you should provide him with before he goes on air. Maybe a suit? You're sure he'd look drop-dead handsome in it on stage.

"I have already got some idea. You'll probably like it." He replies with an arrogant smirk, causing you to giggle, which, for some strange reason, you're unable to hold back. His smirk widens.

"Y/N. Can I take you away for a moment?" Coryo's voice and the fact that he's right behind you surprise you. You didn't notice him sneaking up until he spoke. You wonder how many times he has managed to do this without your knowledge.

"Go, angel. I'll see you tomorrow at the arena." Finnick says, giving you another of his trademark smirks. You nod to him and accept Coryo's hand as he helps you up. He takes your bag from you, and you both walk out.

You go with him as his emotional support to Dr. Gaul's laboratory. He tells you enthusiastically about his new ideas for the Hunger Games and how the woman was interested in them, but you only half-listen, your thoughts still with Finnick. And Coriolanus doesn't like it that you so brazenly ignore what he says.

"You two are rather close." He says, getting your attention. You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, not understanding who he was talking about. "You and your tribute."

"We are. It's my job to take care of him."

"You do it rather willingly and with a smile on your face." He remarks with a strange tone of voice. You stop and frown at him, not understanding what his problem is.

"Are you suggesting something?"

"No. No. Not at all. I'm just warning you. People are talking."

"They always talk." You snap at him, furious that he's playing that card. He lectures you as if you were a little child and did something wrong. Besides, who cared? You could flirt with anyone you wanted.

"Y/N. He's just a district boy. I don't want your reputation to suffer just because… you see him as a human being."

"Are you serious? He IS a human being. Like each one of them." You say, angry at him for even saying such a thing.

"You sound like Sejanus." He says it coldly, giving you an unreadable look. You don't know what he's thinking, but you know by the way his jaw is set and his hand is nervously playing with the strap of his bag that it's not good. And you wonder. Because Sejan is your friend after all. And he was also a district boy.

"Maybe because he's right." You respond to his remark by crossing your arms and staring at him defiantly, tilting your chin slightly upward.

"Are you really going to let some district scumbag ruin your career and future? Everything you've worked for so far? They hate us, Y/N. Each one of them. Behind that charming smile of his, there is a devil who gossips about you and laughs at your naivety behind your back."

"They are not monsters, Coriolanus."

The use of his full name makes him flinch. You see it and immediately regret not using his diminutive, but that's okay. You were incredibly frustrated and angry that he thought the way Dr. Gaul and the rest of the rich snobs of Panem did. That he didn't see these people as... people. People like you were.

"They killed my father, and because of the rebellion 10 years ago, my mother and sister, whom I never got to know, are dead, and they might have been alive if those district rats hadn't turned the Capitol into a battlefield. You, Tigris, and my grandmother are all I have left. And I won't let anything happen to you or anyone take you away from me." He bursts out, keeping his voice cool, but you can clearly see the storm of emotions in his icy eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere, Coryo. The rebellion is over. We are safe. But they are not." You decide to back out of the argument with him.

"They don't deserve to be safe. Not after what they did to us, petal."

You don't say anything at his words. You just sigh and go to hug him.

He relaxes a little in your arms, wrapping himself around you just as tightly as you wrap around him. You are enveloped in his warmth and the delicate scent wafting from the rose he had pinned to his red jacket.

You know how Coryo suffered and how he sought an outlet for his pain. And you can't be surprised that he blamed the people of the district for his family's fate. That he hated them... but you didn't know how deep that hatred had grown inside him.

And how much it had grown the moment he found out from Lucy Gray that you had promised to make sure Odair won.

When he found out you chose that district boy above him in The Hunger Games, he fully understood what Dr. Gaul wanted him to say when she asked him about the meaning of the games.

Now he had to make sure that HE would become THE VICTOR. And not the underdog from 4 who tried to steal HIS woman.

"I hope I haven't caused you any trouble?" Finnick asks with that smile of his that makes you weak in the knees as you both walk around the arena.

You blush slightly, remembering last night.

"Here. Put this somewhere and change it when we get back from the arena. Then you two will be on TV." You tell him, handing him a bag of clothes through the bars. It is midnight. You shouldn't be here, and you might as well have given it to him in the morning, but... something pulled you to him. "If you are as charming as usual, you will win the hearts of the audience." You say, not knowing that he only cares about ONE heart.

"You're too good, angel. But I have something for you too." he says that and hands you a small bundle. You frown at him.

"I… I shouldn't…" You say, surprised, but he pushes the bundle into your hands anyway.

You look at him in a daze for a moment and unwrap the fabric. You gasp when you see the necklace. It is an ordinary black leather strap with a silver pendant with a fish that swallows its tail, thus creating a circle shape. There was a tiny pearl inside.

"If I were a rich man, I would give you something else... as a souvenir. But I'm not... but I really wanted for you to have something that will remind you of me. Please say something, or I might start talking nonsense that we'll both regret later and..."

You silence him by leaning in and kissing him through the bars. It's a gentle kiss, as tender as the tiny passage between the bars allows, but somehow he manages to grab your hand and cup your cheek carefully, brushing your skin with his thumb.

You feel tears welling up as you think about what it might have been like in another life, where there were no divisions into better and worse districts and the Hunger Games would never have existed... but this small moment stolen in the night between you two will have to be enough. That gentle brushing of your lips.

"No. Not at all. Do you already know what you're going to do on TV?" You ask, changing the subject, trying to keep from blushing as the two of you walk around the arena while you make mental notes of the best places to escape.

"Yes. I will recite a poem. Or, rather, a song. I will not compete with our dear Lucy Gray, and I will not sing. Want to hear?"

"Sure." You reply with a shrug, completely unprepared for what he had in store.

He clears his throat. He catches your eye and begins with a tone of voice so velvety and pleasant to the ear that it's impossible for you to perceive anything other than him. And certainly not the way your blonde friend was staring daggers at you with clenched fists, ignoring the scared look Lucy Gray was throwing his way.

"We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me I didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet."

You shiver as he finishes. He was only a small step away from you as he inched closer with each line he spoke, never taking his eyes off you. You are speechless. All you can do is look him in the eyes, watching as he gently brushes away your hair from your eyes.

"It's... it's beautiful. Did you write it?" You ask, snapping out of your daze.

"No. No, I don't. I believe this is 'My tears richochet' by Taylor Swift."

"Taylor Swift?" You repeat it stupidly, swallowing and trying to calm your rapidly beating heart that aches with the desire to kiss him. You know you can't. Not in the light of day. Never in plain sight. And it hurt you that you wanted a man who could never be yours.

"In another life, I would be a London boy." You laugh with him about it. Suddenly he looks around seriously, and when he sees that Coriolanus is the only one watching you, he takes a step towards you and gently strokes your cheek with his thumb. "You're... I didn't expect anyone in the Capitol to have a heart. And certainly not as pure as yours, my sweet angel."

You shiver, unable to move away from him.

He leans down and steals you a quick but more passionate kiss than the first you two had shared under the cover of the night. His hand tangles in the hair at the back of your head as he opens your mouth with his tongue, swallowing your moan. Common sense screams at you to step away, but you can't. You cup his cheeks in your hands, pulling him closer to you, stealing another moment with him as he pushes you against a pillar, hiding you from anyone's view.

Before anyone can notice that you two have disappaired, there's a loud bang in the arena. You scream as you feel a warm gust of air make you fall onto your back. The combined scream of both Coryo and Finnick's calling your name and the pounding of your head is the last thing you hear and feel before you pass out.

Consciousness comes back to you very slowly. At first, you think you're dead, but the ringing in your ears and headache wouldn't be symptoms of a dead person on the other side.

That's why you open your eyes slowly and very reluctantly.

You hiss as the light from the hospital lamp hits your eyes. You cover them with your hand when suddenly you feel another one on yours.

"Everything's fine, petal. You are safe with me. Move slowly, take your time."

"Coryo?" You ask, pushing both your and his hands away from your eyes as you narrow them at him. You sigh with relief and hug the blonde, who is also in a hospital gown. You managed to notice a few scratches on his face before you cuddled up to him shakily.

"Shh... it's okay, my petal. Your parents were here. They waited through the entire surgery, and when the doctor told them you were stable, they went home to get clothes for you. They should be back here soon. Together with Tgiris and Sejanus."

"Surgery?" You ask in surprise, only now feeling the grip of the bandages on your head.

"They put a few stitches on your head. Fortunately, it wasn't as deep a wound as we thought it was. You scared me. And the others." He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he wraps his arms tighter around you... like a snake.

"The arena... Finnick. Is he alive? What happened? Where is Finnick?" You panicked, moving away from him and ignoring his more affectionate than usual gestures. All you can think about is a district boy that you have grown to... to love in these few days when you got a chance to know him.

You don't see the anger rising in Coriolanus's eyes, nor do you recognise his fake tone as he pretends to be concerned. You're more concerned, scared, and distraught that you don't feel the weight of Finnick's necklace around your neck.

"He is dead. I'm sorry for your tribute, my petal." He says, slowly stroking your bare arms.

From the side, it looked like he wanted to comfort you, but he was only doing it because he wanted to feel your skin under his fingertips. Enjoy his reward. As well as that snow lands on top.

"What?" You ask in shock, not feeling his touch at all. Your world stopped. As if it were dying. You don't feel anything. Nothing at all.

"There was an attack of rebels. He didn't survive." He repeats it more emphatically, watching you carefully.

"No... no..." You shake your head, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. Tears that you don't even try to hold back. Just as your whole body trembles.

"It's not your fault, honey. You did an excellent job as a mentor. It could have happened to anyone."

"You do not understand! This isn't about stupid games! This is about him! About human life! How can you be so selfish and myopic?!”

You shout angrily, slapping your hands against his chest. Your tears are blurring any vision; you're still weak from the surgery, so when you get tired, he pulls you into his arms and presses your head to his chest, rubbing your back as you cry into him.

Into a man who took the opportunity to get rid of the inconvenience of your tribute. Along with the necklace he gave you. Coriolanus was furious when he saw it on your neck as he carried you out after pushing Odair right into the spot where, a second later, a large piece of debris fell from the ceiling.

Once again, Coriolanus' perceptiveness worked to his advantage.

And now you were his. Only his. He made sure there were no traces of Finnick Odair left. After all, his First Lady couldn't be sullied by a district boy.

"Don't cry over him. We are all we need anyway, my little petal." He whispers against your skin as he kisses away your tears.

You're too busy mourning your tribute and too drugged to do anything. So he uses this to his advantage and fucks your face with kisses before finally leaning in to taste your lips.

He moans into your mouth, not caring about the slightly salty taste of your tears, and gently wraps his hand around your neck. You mumble something into his mouth, pressing your hand against his chest to push him away.

But he doesn't give up. He sits you on his lap and places kisses on your neck. You gasp, clinging to him. He rests his forehead against yours and kisses you once again. He lifts your hands and makes you tangle them in his hair. His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you in until your chests are pressed together.

He ignores Lucy Gray's singing echoing through the private room in the hospital your parents bought for you to get better and holds you close to his chest, pressing tender kisses to your cheeks, lips, nose, forehead, and neck—everywhere his greedy, eager mouth can reach.

You can't move. Because of the drugs they drugged you with, so you can't feel pain, or because you don't want to move, you don't know yet. In some strange way, the feeling of closeness comforts you, and your stupid brain and heart try to trick you into thinking it's right. After all, Coryo saved you, and he always saved you. He was always there for you. Always close to you. Unconsciously, you start kissing him back. He moans contentedly, rubbing himself against you.

He refrains from doing anything more and pushes you off of him, keeping your head on his shoulder and his arms around you as he places small kisses on your temple and tenderly, occasionally reaching up to kiss your lips as the painkiller drip he unscrews a little makes you melt and surrender completely to him.

He holds you as you fall asleep in his arms, thinking about how he can make sure his songbird wins. He reduced her competition anyway by hastening Odair's death, but he must be sure that he wins Plinth's prize so he can finally claim you fully for himself. He wouldn't endure another district boy near you.

Coriolanus knew that hope was dangerous. Love was fatal and destructive if you didn't control the one you cared for. And jealousy... jealousy brought out people's primal, animal instincts.

Just like the Hunger Games.

He looks at your sleeping, peaceful form, and he presses a kiss on your lips. He smiles, seeing how cuddled up to him you were and how you were in need of his warmth and touch, of the security he provided and will always provide for you. You were worth every sin. His petal. His little angel. His future First Lady and mother of his children. He will adore you. You'd forget about this district underdog once he won; he was sure of it.

After all, he was the only victor Panem could have.

[suntoru]

─ ✰ COUNTDOWN TO YOUR LOVE!!

✧˚ · . 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 most definitely does not have a crush on his best friend. so what’s this feeling when somebody else is planning on confessing to you?

— warnings: oblivious gojo af, fluff, mild violence, might be ooc, please be nice i have only watched like the first episode of jjk, idk what else

— author’s note: is it shittily written? yes. but is it finished? also yes. HAPPY NEW YEAR MY LOVES &lt;;33

“guys, guys, brace yourself for the tea i have!! nanamin is gonna confess to y/n tonight at the new years party!!”

“huh?! seriously?” nobara gasps theatrically, her eyes widening in interest. she springs up from the couch, tail -imaginary or not-wagging in anticipation as she eagerly leans in for the juicy gossip.

*chokes* "...what?" gojo gags on his tea, coughing violently. he's surely joking. there's no way. "y/n, as in like, my best friend, y/n?"

“i know, right? i was surprised too!! after all, i was sure mister nanami was more interested in marrying his paperwork than finding real love, but that’s what i heard!” yuji spills, enthusiasm radiating from every word.

"that's... great." gojo manages to mutter, and for once, he has nothing ese to say.

“it’s about time, he’s pushing thirty, and he’s still single… as the youngsters say, he has… L rizz.” nobara laughs boisterously with her hands on her hips, thoroughly entertained by her own joke. meanwhile, yuji cocks his head in confusion at his friend's delusions. …is she going senile?

“well, aren’t you also single…?”

'hush, yuji! the point is, there's gonna be some spicy drama!" nobara squeals, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "we're talking romance unraveling like a well-scripted k-drama!! get ready for some flashy love confessions, and hopefully, a heart-fluttering kiss scene!!"

11: 56 PM

fuck, why can't i focus? gojo groans as he loses yet another round of mario kart to nobara. the image of you lingers in his mind from earlier that day, engaged in conversation with the blonde. he can't ignore the subtle indications; your flustered demeanor, a slight tint of pink on your cheeks, your refusal to make eye contact. clear signs of a crush. you surely like him back, there's no denying it.

and he should be happy for his friend— should be, but all he can feel is an unexplainable tightness that grips his chest, like a weight he can't shake off. he can't quite put a pin on it, it's an unknown emotion, but it all feels ugly nonetheless. it must have been something he ate earlier. ...yeah, that's it.

as he tries to ignore the overwhemling feeling of dispair, his attention flickers to the lively scene, and there you are, donning one of those goofy 2024 glasses that make your whole demeanor even more endearing. a lopsided smile graces your face as you engage in cheerful banter with megumi, and just like that, a fuzzy feeling envelops him, coaxing a smile to creep up on his face involuntarily. but before he can revel in the moment, a sudden flick on his forehead disrupts his thoughts.

"hey— ow, what was that for?" he whines, rubbing his forehead and directing a puzzled gaze towards utahime.

"you're so dense." she huffs in annoyance, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes at his apparent obliviousness. he looks up at her, confusion etched across his features.

"i- huh? whaddya mean by that?" he stares at her in confusion. utahime sighs in exasperation, irritation visible. "how stupid are you? do i have to spell it out for you? you. like. y/n." the words hang in the air. ...i ... like... y/n...?

and then it hits him like a brick wall. the reason behind stinging feeling in his chest. you being with nanami meant no more midnight snack runs, no more drunken gossip sessions, no more attempts to fluster you. those simple pleasures, the serotonin rush sparked by your mere smile, threaten to slip away.

the thought of losing you; his best friend, his one and only, shakes him to the bottom of his core. his heart, like a drum, pounds in his chest, a resounding beat of denial and awakening. ...no way... he couldn't... does he...?

could he truly say that the way he always seems to gravitate towards you in group gatherings, the way his eyes subconsciously find their way towards yours, the sudden surge of warmth he gets when you praise him was all truly platonic? perhaps he didn't acknowledge it before, but his heart has long declared what he only now comprehends: he loves you. he loves you.

he's loved you ever since you were five and he was seven, when you announced proudly to everyone that you were now his best friend for life. he's loved you when you were eleven and he was thirteen, when you sought refuge in his arms, tears streaming down your face because of a bully. he's loved you when you were eighteen and he was twenty, hung up on some random jerk who didn't even treat you right.

his eyes dart over to where nanami is, pacing closer towards you— he's going to lose everything if he doesn't move.

he can't lose you.

so he runs across the large room, dashing towards you, heaving and huffing. "FIVE!" everybody begins to chant. "gojo?" you good? need something?" "FOUR!" your voice is soft and sweet, like a honeyed daydream, etched with concern. how could he not have realized, it was you all along? it was always going to be you. "THREE!" "hey." he says breathlessly. "yeah?" you mumble, curious as to what he was about to say next. "TWO!" "slap me if you hate it." "hate what?" "ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!"

he pulls you towards him, using both hands to grab your face, planting a passionate on your plush lips, your eyes widening as everybody else cheers knowingly.

bonus!! earlier:

"you like him. gojo."

nanami simply states, a ghost of a smile on his lips. you feel your face heat up. how did he know? was it that obvious? that's so embarrassing... oh my god. you can't look him in the eye, you just want to shrivel up and disappear in the ground... "you're both so stupidly oblivious." he mutters under his breath.

©kaeffeinee 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[papercranesandpride]

Happy aplatonic visibility day! Here are some reminders!

Not everyone feels platonic attraction

Not everyone has or wants friends

Aplatonics can still be social (I'm extremely social), but also a lot of us just don't have the same socialization needs as alloplatonics. If your first question for aplatonics is "how do you fulfill the need for socialization without friends?" please consider why you think that's something that everyone needs

Conversations and interactions with strangers and acquaintances can be just as meaningful and fulfilling as those with friends

Friendship, like any relationship, should require explicit consent and a conversation. Don't start referring to people as friends without discussing it first

Friend and bestie are not casual terms to say to anyone; ask for consent before you use them

Platonic does not mean non-romantic. It specifically refers to relationships between friends. If you want to say something without romantic intent, say you mean it non-romantically

Aspec means more than just aro and/or ace. Atertiaries are here too. That doesn't just mean aplatonics, but also afamilials, asensuals, anaesthetics/nonaesthetics, etc

Not all aspecs value friendship above all. Not all aspecs want QPRs

Not all aplatonics are aromantic. Not all aplatonics are loveless. Not all aplatonics are asexual. Not all aplatonics are afamilial

Anyway, have a lovely day my fellow apples! Don't forget that you can't commit crimes today without being caught

[leclerc-hs]

marked - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: a request from anon ‘Charles marking you as his’ Warnings: smut, choking, language, 18+ Word Count: 546 Author’s Note: I apologize for it being short!!!! I think I want to attempt to write a short series maybe. Any ideas on what it should be about? ALSO HAPPY FERRARI LOCKOUT DAY. I am praying we can stay on podium today lmaooo French edits made by @shewantsvengeance!!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

IF YOU HAD to ask anybody, they would tell you that Charles was a rather generous being. He was always willing to provide help to someone in need. When your friend’s house had a gas leak, he provided her a space to crash for the time being. Whenever somebody needed a ride, he was the person to call. If you forgot your wallet, don’t worry he already covered it anyways.

So, when your apartment was deemed unlivable due to remodeling, he promptly extended a warm welcoming haven for you to find solace in.

The dynamic between you and Charles was a peculiar one, not yet falling into the category of an official couple yet possessing an unmistakable intensity. It was as if a protective aura enveloped the two of you; anyone daring to cast even a fleeting thought in your direction was met with a foreboding presence. Regardless of the official label, you were his. He was yours.

Which is how you found yourself here. In this present moment. With Charles hand gripped around your neck as you straddled him on the couch.

“Fuck,” he grunted as you hastily worked yourself over his cock. The deep groan he elicited had your lip quivering. His hands grasped onto your hips tightly, guiding you. “Gonna take it all, huh?”

“Gonna be a good cumslut for me, princesse?” He wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

“Shut up and make me cum already,” you couldn’t help but bite back. He possessed a remarkable talent for teasing, edging you for what has felt like hours. It was torment, pushing you to the threshold of your orgasm but then denying it before you could jump over the edge.

“Feisty, hm?” his hands slipped back up to your neck, squeezing hard. “Don’t be a brat.”

Tiny beads of sweat started to form on the edge of his eyebrow, the veins of his neck visible. You wished you could take a picture.

You felt your hips start to lose rhythm as your legs grew weaker. You are a whimpering wet mess. “Can’t even ride me properly,” a smirk formed on his lips.

“Please, Cha,” you begged, currently on the verge of having a break down from the frustration. “I need-“

“Need me to fuck you? Can’t get yourself off alone baby? So useless.” He was laughing. It made your pussy clench harder. You didn’t even have to respond before Charles was flipping you under him on the couch. Your hands immediately grasping onto the back of the couch for support as he fucked you from behind.

He leaned forward, his body arched over yours, his lips found a place on your neck. With a deliberate intention, he sucked hard. No doubt leaving a dark purple like bruise on the cusp of your neck and jaw. Claiming you.

The mixture of his fervent sucking with the drilling of his hips was more than enough to send you teetering over the edge this time. His, right behind you. You were screaming, tears escaping your eyes as you felt yourself squeezing all around his cock.

You were both out of breath. Collapsed on one another on the couch. Completely ruined, that’s how you felt. The giant reddish purple on your neck was sore, Charles finger tracing it with a smile.

“Everyone will know you’re mine now.”

[hoshigray]

hmmmm, chosuki both "marking their territory" after one of reader's friends gets a little too touchy?

Love your work <3333333

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: when i tell you i was grinning once i saw this in my inbox, lol, finally chosuki yessss!! ty for loving my stuff ☆

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Choso + Yuki x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - threesome - oral (m! + f! receiving) - fingering (f! receiving) - anal (f! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - cowgirl 69 + missionary positions - breast fondling + nipple play + sucking - biting/marking - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, honey, sweetie, sweet pea) - mild possessive behavior.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

“Damn, Y/n, you’re so lucky to have such eye-catchers fawning over you!”

“Pfffthaha, oh, stop it! You’re drunk; stop swinging around!”

There’s one thing in this world that both Yuki and Choso don’t play about — you.

You are the sweetest and most prized treasure they cherish with their very hands. Being in a poly relationship tends to be a hard thing to manage for Yuki and Choso. The two lovers were never in luck to find the right person who didn’t match their vibe or wanted to change the dynamic they were going for. But with every dark tunnel, there’s a light on the other side. And thanks to the blonde and dark brunette’s stars, you were their saving grace.

God, they adored you very much — the best partner they could ever have. The way you’d wake up to them and give them a kiss with a soft ‘good morning,’ how you make lunch for Choso before he goes on his way to work, or texting sweet messages to Yuki to check how she’s doing or telling her about this new place that opened around the area for all three of you to explore. Blind by your smile and caring charm, Yuki and Choso live in eternal bliss and happiness, knowing you have blessed them with your presence to return home to.

Their love for you is mutual and genuine, authentic in that they wish to spend their days — no, their entire lives! — being with you. They see you as their muse, as theirs. So, it’s predictable that they’d be secretly jealous when they’d have to share their piece of heaven with others.

Especially now when all three of you had been dragged by some of your old college buddies for a night out at the pub. Figuring this would be a perfect opportunity to introduce your friends to your lovers, Yuki and Choso were invited over to enjoy the merits of this occasion. What the two partners hadn’t expected was how close you all were — albeit a little too close for their liking. 

You all sat at one big round booth table, Yuki and Choso being separated from you as your friends wanted to have you by them for just the night. Again, it made the two lovers feel uneasy. Even when a girl friend grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers with hers enthusiastically, the blonde can’t fight the twitch of her ruby eyes. The friend goes on to say, “Nah, are you kidding? I think those two are the ones who are lucky to have Y/n! They’re such an angel; anyone would feel like they’ve won a million dollars if they got with someone like them.”

Then, a guy who was visibly buzzed joined the praise fest. “You’re so right! I’d do backflips every day if I scored someone so gracious and sweet as Y/n,” the drunk man brings a hand on your shoulder and nestles his cheek to your shoulder. Choso attempts to keep a neutral expression, but caramel eyes carry a tiny hostile aura. “I’d make sure to love on them every single day, kiss their feet when they walk, wash their hair when they ask—“

“Okay, lover boy,” you stop him before your drunken friend digs his foolish grave even further, and it’s hard to hide your giggles. “I think that’s enough Crowne and tequila for one night.”

You and your friends laugh and continue to strike up a conversation to catch up on material. However, you’re so engrossed in the others’ talk that you can’t sense the tension that’s brewing from the other side where your lovers sit. The two survey the scene with silent eyes, with Choso hitting his leg to stop the bounce of his knee and Yuki tapping her fingernails on the table surface.

All they could do was watch you, their treasured partner, share your attention with those who cherish you. Although, internally, they wanted you all to themselves. Yes, it was selfish; however, you can’t blame your lovers for being a little protective of you. Specifically when it seems your friends don’t appear to respect your boundaries when in their company.

So for that, it’s no surprise they instantly pull you into the bedroom once you three return home. Hungry kisses are exchanged between three pairs of lips, lustful hands stripping you of your clothes and throwing you onto the bed, where they meet in seconds to feast upon you.

“Hahhh, fuck…Hmmm, yeah, lick right there, honey.”

“Mmmm…Mmahh!! Choso, your tongue—Ohh! Feels so good…”

The brunette man is lying down on his back with you straddling above him, his face and mouth buried into our folds, licking around your labia and sucking your essence that seeps out from the pleasurable motions. His hands knead the flesh of your inner thighs as you hum along to the touch. Simultaneously, you use your tongue and mouth to give pleasure to Yuki’s slit, the blonde releasing shaky moans as she rides on Choso’s length with her ass.

The tall woman peers down to watch you orally please her. She strokes your head with a pleasant hand and sends praises. “There you go, cutie,” she bites her lip. “Lick it real good.”

Her commands egg you on to keep going, using the motion of her hips to your advantage to predict how far in you can keep lapping her chasm. Your hands crawl to her waist to massage, using the leverage to keep your lips on her at all times. And to your effort, she is sighing happily at the gratification you give her. It has her rock her hips ever harder, taking in Choso’s long shaft with hunger.

The man below you grunts at the motion, stuffing his face more into your cunt to suck harshly. And you can’t help but jolt, muffled squeals vibrating to Yuki’s core — and she relishes the feeling.

“Look at you, baby,” Choso slowly licks your chasm, sending shivers up to your shoulders. “You’re all wet and ready for us, huh? So good for us,” He kisses your clit and places lazy licks, and you fight to lose your balance.

“Hmmm, yeah, so good for us…Although—mmahh,” Yuki throws her head back at Choso’s dick scraping her insides at the right places. “Can’t say you were good when we were…Hohhh..at the pub.” You bat your eyes towards her in confusion, yet your tongue and lips remain busy. “Letting those people touch you in front of us; what were you thinking?”

You remove your mouth from Yuki to explain, her slick connected to your bottom lip. But before you could utter a word, your body jerked to the sharp instance of pain on your inner thigh. Choso had bit you, licking the place his teeth sank in before throwing in another nibble. You shriek, turning to plead to the man to be easy; however, the woman grabs your head and brings it back to where it’s supposed to be. “Don’t forget about me, sweet pea,” she chuckles at your feverish laps on her wet folds. “Give me my attention…”

She moans to your work, satisfying her with the flick of your tongue on her delicate clit. She rocks her hips even faster, prompting Choso to groan and buck his pelvis to her puckered hole, and his mouth remains glued to your chasm. He then sneaks a finger to toy around your asshole, and a sharp gasp erupts from your figure when he inserts the digit inside. 

“—Khhaaa, oooohmy fuckin’—Gaaahh!” Flicks to your clitoris tag along with the push of his finger inside your ass, playing with the texture by scraping the walls. And when his tongue goes inside your vagina, you clamp onto him with vigor. Fuck, I’m so close…! “Yukiiii, pleaseee, can I cumm?”

“Aww, why should I let you,” her sweet tone distracted you from the sneaking bit of the man’s teeth on your thigh once more. “Do you deserve to cum? After letting other people touch you like you forgot you had your lovers present?” 

“Hahhhnn, I’m sorry; I—shit… didn’t mean to upset you both…Ooof!” Choso switches his finger with his thumb, pushing it to and fro inside your tight entrance. Your eyes screw shut, “Please forgive me, you two are the only ones I love…”

“You swear on that, honey?” A glint shines in her magenta orbs. 

You nod hurriedly before placing kisses on Yuki’s thighs and trailing them back to her vagina, “Yessss, I love you both so much, no one knows how to love me as you do…” Your hips sway involuntarily — not a problem for Choso, who sticks to you no matter what. “Mmmm, only you two know my mind and body, and I wouldn’t want it any other way…”

Blonde brows eyebrows screw together; fuck, you knew what to say to make Yuki fall for you all over again. Her cunt clenching on nothing but the love your words carry. Jesus, you were too much. Without a word, she gently withdraws your body from her body so she can lift her body off of Choso. She then flips you over; now you’re the one lying on your back, with the tall woman stationed behind to snake her hands to your breasts.

Choso’s pigtails have long been drawn down for his hair to fall to his nape, and strands of his walnut-colored hair stick to his forehead. Maneuvering to his knees, he examines your anticipated expression, shaky wails coming out your puffy lips as Yuki places soft kisses on your neck. She also places bites wherever her mouth can reach, her hands busy cupping your mounds, groping the mounds, and tweezing your nipples. With how hard she was sucking your skin, you’re sure there’d be hickeys when you wake up in the morning. The man strokes his dick at the sight before him, inching closer to be between your legs.

“Choso…” The way you said his name made him feel warm; the mark across his nose exuded streaks of his blood that threatened to fall. His ears and shoulders get pinker, and your breath hitches when he slaps the tip onto your saliva-coated slit. 

“Who do you belong to, Y/n?” He says it low to your ear, and you chew on your lip when he licks your lobe. His mouth travels down, leaving harsh sucks on your neck and clavicle along with Yuki. Two mouths on your body have you whimpering like a fool, so sensitive to their touch that you could wither away. “Hmm? Who loves you most, sweetie?” He comes down to your chest that’s occupied by Yuki’s worshipping hands, popping a nipple into his mouth to suck with care.

“Hahhh, you, Choso, my darling…” you sigh into the sense of his mouth licking diligently around your bud. Your face turns in Yuki’s direction, smiling at the golden-haired woman before claiming her lips. “And Yuki, my love…”

The two of you kiss slowly yet maintain the same passion you have for each other, noses brushing against each other and tongues swirling before smacking lips together. The brunette lifts his head from your chest, straightening his posture to insert his cockhead inside your vagina. You mewl into Yuki at the insertion, and it doesn’t stop as the woman slithers a hand to your clit to swipe. You break the kiss in a huff, making the blonde snicker. 

“Mmmph…Jesus Christ,” Choso trembles at the warm snug of your cunt as it accepts his length, pushing in for every inch of him to be swallowed in. When his base meets your southern lips, you hiss at how full you feel from his size. “You know how much we love you, right, baby?”

You nod to him, Yuki placing another hickey-worth kiss on your shoulder. “Your love makes me full, honey…Ohooo…!”

“And don’t forget that…” Choso snaps his hips, drilling his long dick into you and making precise hits to the walls of your chasm. You squeak beneath him, the tip of his cock poking your sweet spots with ease, and you’re gripping the sheets to keep you steady along with Yuki’s hold on you.

The blonde woman flickers her ruby eyes to Choso and beams, “You know you’re hot as hell when you’re all possessive, right?”

“Shut up,” he shushes her with a kiss, humming to her lips that reciprocate his feelings as lovers. The only noise that fills the room is your whines and wails from the hands fondling your body and the shaft plunging so far inside you that you can’t contain the ecstatic screams originating from your inner being. Good God, this felt so fucking good; being wanted and loved by these two is a sensation incomparable to anything. You want to drown in it, be immersed within it, have your senses be robbed of their very being until you fall deep into sleep in their embrace. This feels so worth it, so satisfying…

…Until you look at yourself in the mirror and find so many fucking hickeys all over your body, all the way from your neck to the grave of your thighs. This was not a sight to see after waking up, especially on the morning your friends from last night invited you over for brunch. 

Needless to say, you pulled your lovers aside and gave them an earful. The two nodded to your words, saying “Sorry…” throughout your rant as you tried to find an adequate outfit to conceal their markings, feeling a little bad that they got carried away with you last night.

All is good, in any case. Because now they know that you are theirs both in mind and body.

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.