#i’m so glad i had taste during my childhood !!!!

[princekeerys]

egon spengler edits all over my fyp rn

[ivestas]

Thank you for writing my request, I loved it!! I have another idea but it's a deeper subject so I understand not everyone is comfortable with writing about it. Could you write about a younger reader and the team see self harm wounds and scars while they were injured or while they were changing? (Something along those lines) and what they would do/ react? Xx

what is most precious to you?

Summary: The 141 discover a part of you that you’d wanted to bury.

Tags: TW s/elf harm scars + sui/cide and talk of it, please read carefully/don't read if this topic triggers you, platonic!141 x medic!fem!reader, reader implied to be mentally ill, younger!reader, descriptions of blood and injury, canon typical violence, soap + ghost focused, unedited

Word count: 1.5k

Notes: im glad u enjoyed the previous req anon! i hope I'm able to do this req justice too 🫡

You’d been a part of the 141 long enough for the others to know and trust you.

An esteemed medic that knew medicine and all things fixing like the back of her hand, despite your age—it was a natural skill, it seemed. Your hands were always so damn fast with a gauze—hell, even a dirty rag you’d make use of in an instant. 

You were just good. Reliable. Consistent. Seemingly just a normal young lady whose only eccentricity was the job she chose to be: a medic for a merc group. 

Soap often liked to joke about that normalcy that clung onto you. 

“Bet when you’re on leave you work a 9 to 5 and sleep right at 8. I’m right, aren’t I?”

You snorted. “No, I’d sleep at 9.” 

“Ohhhhh, daring! Don’t be too crazy! Ya might just lose a leg!” 

Even Ghost would sometimes jump in, adding his own joke occasionally. 

“Should I get you a planner for your birthday? A nice, minimalist one with neutral stickers to match.”

You’d scoff and jab back, whether it be at Ghost’s mask or Soap’s current and past hair-styles.

But they never gave you a tough time about it—they were glad that one of them was able to blend back to civvy life with ease. 

Price even said it was his favorite trait—”sometimes, you need the practicality and mindset of a normal lady to get shit done.”

“Thanks?” 

The guys all had a similar image of what your childhood was like: middle-class, parents all stiff-like and old-timey, your favorite hobbies probably were things like football or reading, things like that. 

However, that image shattered during a post-mission intermission. 

Things went wrong, completely askew—the enemies were clearly prepared for the attack, because landmines were everywhere and the area was crawling with hostiles.

It was a resounding loss—many casualties, wounded, etc. 

You could hardly keep up, trying to patch up as many as possible, even when the sky rained of bullets and the air tasted thickly of gunpowder and death. It was like a place between purgatory and hell, a constant flow of shouts, screams, explosions.

It was too late for you to noticed a bullet grazed your arm; it was deep enough to be visible, but luckily it wasn’t aimed low enough for it to shoot into your arm. 

You had ignored the wound—in your mind, it only made sense to focus on the soldiers who were fighting for their lives and riddled with bullet wounds. 

So you just did that: focus on them. 

But, due to the constant movement and strain, the graze only worsened, almost tearing. The adrenaline numbed the pain, but you knew it was gonna hurt like a bitch soon enough. 

Luckily though, Ghost shouted in your ear through the comms. 

“Bravo-1, retreat!—fuckin’ hell—everyone, retreat!”  

You did just that—retreat. 

Huffing and puffing, you were quick to run to the distant chopper you recognized as the 141′s. A haze of sand was the only saving grace as it covered you from the enemies direct line of sight.

Soap pulled you into the helicopter with a quick grab of your wrist, completely unaware of the graze that arm sustained. You let out a sharp hiss of pain, feeling the skin tear just a little more. 

The entrance of the helicopter shut, and with both of you heaving, the plane finally shot back into the air, rocking back and forth the slightest bit. The sound of bullets slowly melted away into harsh whirring and mechanical buzz. 

You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling sharply before you got up, arm still bleeding. 

But, strangely, you felt it drip along your arm and into your hand, running along your finger—ah, it should’ve been obvious, the sleeve of your wounded arm had completely torn. 

You lifted the arm, examining the wound. 

Scars of varying sizes, textures, and freshness—some having strange bubbly dots, others consisting of messy lines. Some of the fresher scars had torn a little, causing thin lines or red to rise. 

Your blood ran cold. You glance up, hoping—praying—that Soap didn’t see, or even understand the implications. 

But you could see he was staring, the cogs in his mind slowly snapping together. 

You put your arm away to your side, hiding it from his view. 

“Lass—“

“I need a medkit. We have one on the plane?” 

You loathed the look of sadness, of pity that shone in his eyes, pulled at the muscles of his face. 

Don’t. Stop.

I’m not weak. Don’t—I’m not weak! 

A chorus of words, feelings, of palpable dark was what filled your mind now. Insecurity, self-hatred, all of it—you’d been working on it, trying to regulate, to reason with the miasma that had taken ahold of your consciousness.

But, fuck, you’ve revealed it to Soap of all people—he felt bad, didn’t he? Disgusted? Worried? He was gonna tell Price, wasn’t he? That your unfit for the 141, that—

A hand rested on the top of your shoulder.

“Can I patch you up?” Soap asked softly. 

You grit your teeth. Moving away from his hand, you shook your head, glaring at the floor. A small splatter of blood was there. “I can fix it myself.” 

You expected—wanted—him to berate you. 

But he didn’t. He was kind. 

“Sure, kid. I’ll just get ya the med kit—stay put.” 

Another wave of shame rocked you. You sat on one of the small seats connected to the walls of the heli, rubbing away the small bits of dried blood. 

Consumed by your thoughts, you didn’t hear Soap murmuring to Ghost. 

“The kid—she, ah...” He ran a finger along his wrist. “Catch my drift?” 

“Cutting herself?” Ghost said bluntly. 

“Sometimes I wish you had a little more tact, L.T.” 

Ghost ignored him. “They fresh or old?”

“Both,” he sighed, grabbing a med kit from one of the plane’s various compartments. “What’re we supposed to do? Don’t wanna scare off the kid, but don’t wanna leave her on her own devices hacking away at ‘erself!” 

Ghost grabbed the kit from his hands. “I’ll handle this. You sit down—go near the Captain. Try to leave us some privacy.” 

Hesitantly, Soap nodded. “Work your magic, sir.” 

Ghost made his way to the other end of the helicopter where you were. You were hunched over your wound, a deep frown on your face. It’s uncharacteristic, but he knew it was a part of yourself you’d prefer to be shrouded in dark. Suffering wasn’t a nice look, was it?

But it was human. Denying your own right to feel it—it made Ghost frown too.

He sat beside you, kit in his hand. You had finally looked up then, alarmed. 

“Gimme your arm, kid.” 

You opened your mouth.

“Not leavin’ till I patch your arm up, so don’t even try.” 

Shamefully, you lifted your arm slowly. 

He took it with gentle but firm hands, a thumb running along a faint scar. 

Ghost opened the kit haphazardly with another hand. 

“When I was your age—maybe a little younger—couldn’t find much meaning in everything.”

He lifted his hand from your arm and grabbed alcohol and a small cotton rag. Dampening the rag with alcohol, he drew it to your arm, rubbing away the excess blood and cleaning the wounds. You didn’t make any noise, only breathing raggedly. 

“The suffering was pointless, in my eyes; thought, ‘this isn’t bloody fair’. Born in a shitty house with a shitter father, food hardly ever on the table, my mind deteriorating, and the world cast in deep gray.”

You nodded. 

Ghost grabbed a bandage gauze, unravelling it and wrapping it gently around the graze and the scars. It was calming, watching him work away, even if the wrapping was a little clumsy. 

“The harsh reality came a little while later, and it’s that people like me—us—we gotta work hard for shit to change. That this weight forced upon us, it’s only we that can shed it off. It’s still not fair—frankly, suicide is easier. Thought of doing it for the longest time... But...” 

He shook his head. “In my eyes, it’s a coward’s way out. We should never die by our own hands—there’s always something to live for.”

“What are you living for?” 

“Mmmm.... For tomorrow’s pint.” 

You laughed. 

He grabbed a safety pin and pinned the end of the gauze. “...now, I know it’s ‘silly’ to say, but you know we’re here for you?—the 141′s got your back, kid—how about this, let’s make a deal.”

“Yeah?” 

“You ever have the urge to cut yer arm, you come straight to me, or the others. They’ll listen. They care.”

They care.  

It’s weird, but hearing the words said out loud, it hit you. 

They really care. 

You took in a shaky breath. “Thank... you.” 

“It’s no problem at all, kid. Stay strong.”

AO3

Masterlist

Requests are open

[collapsedglasshouses]

Like The Movies || Vinny Mauro x fem!Reader

PICTURE FOUND ON PINTEREST

SUMMARY: When Vinny and his childhood best friend Y/n jokingly decide to watch adult movies together, things escalate rather quickly.

WARNINGS: smut, MDNI, watching porn together, mutual masturbation, mutual pining, mentions of drug consumption, friends to fwb sorta, …

A/N: I wrote this last night, I don’t know where it came from… Maybe I’ll write another part. I don’t know yet! This is not proofread sorryyy

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @nerdraging4point0 @circle-with-me @tearfallpixie (i hope you dont mind me tagging you, i thought you would like to read this ♡)

Vinny was glad tour was over. Not that he didn’t enjoy it, he had a blast. But coming back home meant one thing for him. He would see you again. Vinny couldn’t remember a time where he hadn’t known you. Since he could remember, you were there. From kindergarten, where you beat up a guy that stole him a shovel while building a sand castle, to high school, where you were there for each other during the worst heartbreaks.

Even when he became the drummer for Motionless in White, you were there. You supported him through every life stage he was going through and it even came to the point where you bought the house next to his. You two were basically attached at the hip.

It was no wonder that when he was back in town, he visited you the second he had settled back in. There was this tradition, where to two of you would meet up, smoke some weed and talk about everything that happened during the time you couldn’t see each other. Nothing was out of the usual. Except… Everything was out of the usual this time…

It was a warm Saturday evening in July. The sun was slowly setting down and he had just come over to your house. Of course, it meant he would be here until late at night. As always.

Since the temperature reached their peak at this point, it was no wonder you only wore shorts and a crop top. Nothing Vinny hadn’t seen you in before, but this time he took a great notice in how good it actually fitted you.

As usual, you both had been smoking for almost an hour at this point and you were currently babbling about the most random shit that came to your mind. You enjoyed your time together as always. But you actually didn’t know how you got to the topic you were currently talking about.

“Oh, come on! You can’t be serious.” You exclaimed while handing him the joint. His cheeks were almost crimson red at this point. He was nervous. “You can’t tell me you really enjoy these overdramatic movies.”

“It’s not like I enjoy enjoy it, I just skip videos until I reach one that I can, you know, finish to.” He mumbled and let out a small giggle before he inhaled again.

“And you decided an old and corny eighty’s porn was the right choice?” You giggled and let your head fall onto the backrest of the couch for a second. It wasn’t unusual for you to talk about sexual events in your lives, considering you had gone through so much together, but hearing that he jerked of to something like that made you giggle almost uncontrollably.

“Oh, don’t make fun of me, I bet you watch that shit all the time.” He threw back at you, before putting the joint, or what was left of it, out.

“I’m not saying, I don’t watch porn, I’m just saying I try to keep my taste… Authentic.” You answered him honestly and shifted in your place for a second. Vinny did not miss how your crop top rode up a little and how it warmed his cheeks even more, but he decided to blame it on the drug running through his system.

“So, what’s authentic in your eyes?”

That’s when you noticed something changed. The energy in the room shifted. You looked into your best friend's greenish eyes and you noticed how they seemingly became darker. You knew he just wanted to tease you but something in his tone sparked your curiosity. Something in his attitude made you think he was genuinely interested in your taste in adult films; curious even.

“Should I show you?” You almost whispered, after contemplating your answer for what seemed like eternity. You thought about if it would make things between you and Vinny awkward but you ultimately decided against it. Nothing ever could make things between the two of you awkward.

You saw how his Adam's apple bobbed and you felt strange. There was this feeling in your gut, you couldn’t quite describe. A feeling you had never felt before when you were around him but you just blamed it on your not-sober state.

“Why not?” He mumbled quietly and you could have sworn how his gaze went to your lips for a second.

“Okay.”

Around twenty minutes later, you were gathered around your tiny laptop screen. You had finally decided on a movie to show Vinny but now that you were really sitting there, you were strangely unprepared and vulnerable.

A shaky breath escaped your lips, and you felt hot all of a sudden. There was something weirdly intimate about this thing. You felt dirty to some extent. You were about to show your best friend your taste in adult movies. You turned to face Vinny for a second, his gaze filled with an anticipating and curious expression.

“What if you find it weird?” You mumbled and his eyes immediately found yours.

“There is literally nothing about you that could surprise me in the slightest, Y/n.” He reassured you with a slight teasing tone. It took you a second to believe his words. But he was right. He knew everything about you. There was nothing weird about two best friends watching that stuff together.

“We can make a deal.” He then exclaimed and you blinked at him. “If we feel weird at any point, we just put it out and watch some dinosaur documentary or something.”

You laughed at the randomness of his media choice.

“What?” – “Dinosaur documentaries? Seriously, Vin?” Vinny smirked for a second before he lifted his hands in defends. “If you find it more comfortable, we can also sit in silence and stare at the wall.”

“No, no. You are right.” You exclaimed before holding out your hand which he took and shook lightly. “Deal.”

When you leaned down to load the video, you noticed how Vinny shuffles in this place. It felt like your heart was going to explode out of your chest.

Breathe, Y/n, breathe.

After a short intro that promoted the person’s OF the video cut to a couple in a bedroom. The naked guy was sitting on the edge of the bed, almost shaking in anticipation as the girl was slowly kneeing down in between his legs. Even though the video was filmed in third person, you could clearly see how she looked up at him through her lashes. Then she began to blow him.

You swallowed hard, not really knowing what to do. You sat stiff, not daring to look at Vinny for a solid minute. The only noise filling the room being the guy’s small moans and whimpers.

“Do you like when guys moan?” Vinny then asked, causing you to look at him with a surprised look on your face.

“What?” - “I-… I mean you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to but-…”

“Yeah… I-… I think I like it. When it comes naturally of course.” You mumbled and felt how your cheeks grew warmer.

You looked each other in the eyes for a second before he nodded slightly. The scene cut to him eating her out, their positions switched.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw that Vinny‘s eyes were completely glued to the screen. His eyes were wide. His mouth slightly open and he occasionally sucked his lip in to dampen it. You wondered if he enjoyed it.

You took a deep breath, trying to forget about Vinny sitting next to you, before looking at the screen again. They began fucking at this point. It was the first time you even noticed what watching porn was even like. You watched strangers chase each other’s high for your own entertainment.

You noticed the way the woman threw her head back as the guy pounded into her. She wasn’t fake-moaning, slight noises of enjoyment leaving her pink lips. Occasionally, there were words of praise exchanged between the two of them and you couldn’t help your mind wondering off again. You felt how your stomach started to heat up. You felt yourself shifting in your seat. You felt the way your mouth felt dry and you had to keep licking your lip to feel comfortable. The same way Vinny had to. You noticed how your nipples perked up slightly. How your crop top started to feel tight.

You were starting to get worked up and even though you put great afford into it, you couldn’t help but peak a glance at Vinny once in a while. His cheeks were tinted in a red tone and even though you tried not to, your gaze wondered to his pants. He was hard.

Your entire face and stomach went incredible hot at this sight, like you’d been suddenly standing in the hot summer sun. His hands that had become much more defined due to playing the drums so frequently, were laying on his thighs and he occasionally rubbed them against his black shorts like he was desperate to move them.

What shook you the most, though, was that you wanted him to move his hands.

You took a deep breath again, trying to calm your nerves. You couldn’t believe you just thought about your best friend masturbating next to you. You tried your utter best to lock those thoughts away but it didn’t even take a minute until your eyes settled back onto his figure. It intrigued you. He intrigued you.

You didn’t know how to ask him if he wanted to touch himself. You didn’t want to make it weird. But you desperately wanted to ease the tension in the room. You knew you yourself couldn’t hold back for much longer. Not that you didn’t have self-control but seeing him being so turned on by the movie, made you feel even more desperate.

Onscreen, the scene had totally changed a couple of times but you didn’t even notice one bit of it.

“Vinny?” You said, your voice sounding raspy. He made a quiet noise in response, almost sounding like a whimper. Fuck.

“You… I… I'm mean y-… You can…” You sighed before starting the sentence over. “You can touch yourself if you want.”

He swallowed and glanced over at you, looking at you for the first time since your whole dilemma had started. His beautiful eyes were dark and mirrored some kind of hunger, his cheeks flushed and you couldn’t deny how gorgeous he looked. “I-… I mean, you can too.”

“Yeah,” you gasped in response. “Yeah, it’s not weird.” 

With that the dam was broken. Any clear thought in your head that would have held you back even in the slightest, was washed over by how ridiculously turned on you were.

You took a deep breath before you fingers slipped past the waistband of your shorts. You were soaking wet at this point. For a short second you coated your fingers with your arousal before placing them on your clit. There was no going back. You began to circle your clit, chasing your high as you closed your eyes.

“Shit.” You slightly moaned and threw your head back on the backrest. Even though your common sense tried to ignore the presence of your best friend next to you, you couldn’t help but focus entirely on the fact he was there. You slightly looked at him again.

You were hearing him. Soft noises slipped past his lips, his hand slightly rubbing along his clothed erection.

“You don’t have to be shy, Vinny.” You breathed out, “I won’t mind.”

“Really?” He asked. You nodded quickly and he let out a relieved sigh. He leaned forward for a second and slipped out of his shirt, earning himself a surprised look of you.

“I don’t wanna wash it, I have just put it on before coming over.” He explained and you nodded with a sheepish smile, realizing what he implied. You tried to hide how you swallowed hard. You knew you shouldn’t have watched him. It was crossing the lines of what friends should and should not do, but you couldn’t help but realize how fucking good he looked.

He basically shoved his hand into his briefs to get some relief.

Onscreen, the girl gripped the sheets of the bed to hold herself together, while you realized your hand at grabbed the small blanket laying next to you, doing the exact same thing.

Your mind was racing. You didn’t know if you should blend Vinny out completely or let your thoughts win. It was like you needed him to be there and at the same time wondered if this would change anything. You knew this was wrong deep down, you knew this was crossing a line but then he made this noise. This sweet and soft moan that escaped his lips made your head go blank.

You peaked over at him and noticed his gaze was on you. On your hand that was between your lips. You were on fire, your chest heaving.

You knew both of you should have looked away, but you didn’t want to. You wanted to watch Vinny. You lifted your fingers to your lips for a second and licked them, causing him to let out a loader moan. You couldn’t do this anymore.

When you moved them between your thighs again and pushed them inside of you, you felt like Vinny was about to crumble into a million little pieces. The pace of his hand became faster and you couldn’t help but look at his member for a second. God, he was big.

As you curled your fingers to find the delicate spots inside of you, you feared this moment would be over any second. You wanted to stay like this for eternity. Watching Vinny get off to the scene of you doing the same. You loved how he looked.

“Don’t stop, Y/n.” He moaned out when he saw you slowing down for a second and that alone almost drove you over the edge. You didn’t know if it was your horniness but you wanted nothing but to kiss him. It felt like his whines and whimpers turned you into some sort of monster that craved him but right now you weren’t even clear enough to filter out your own thoughts.

The sight of Vinny with his member in his hand felt like an intense experience. The sort of experience that made you want to change your thoughts on life completely

“You’re so fucking pretty, Vin.” You moaned out, not holding back in the slightest. “I wish I could feel you.”

If it was even possible, his cheeks turned even more red. You felt your whole skin prickling. The movie in the background long forgotten. You were staring into each other’s souls at this point. If he hadn’t known everything about you at this point, now he definitely did. And so did you.

It felt like a long-awaited event when you finally reached your high. All the tension leaving your body in such immense waves you feared you would collapse. You moaned his name loudly as your head fell back in the backrest.

Then the moans fell from his lips. It almost felt like you would cum again when you saw him cum on his chest for a second, but you pressed your eyes closed for second to calm your thoughts.

You didn’t open them for a couple of minutes until the volume of the movie in front of you was turned down a little. You peaked through your eyelashes, seeing Vinny had cleaned himself and put his shirt on again.

You slowly leaned forward and stroked over your clothes, trying to smooth them out, in an attempt to drown out your incoming thoughts. You were hyper-aware of Vinny’s gaze.

“Everything alright?” You mumbled, trying to ease the tension between you.

“Yeah…” He mumbled and ran a hand through his hair. “Good movie… I guess.”

You didn’t really exchange any words, before Vinny sighed and mumbled. “I need to go home. Ricky asked if we would hangout on Discord after I get home from yours and I don’t want to leave him hanging for too long.”

You nodded, trying to gift him a small smile but all of the sudden you couldn’t look at him anymore. Not that you felt guilty or something, you just feared that those feelings would bubble up again.

“If you want I can call you afterwards and we can watch some dinosaur documentaries together.” Vinny then suggested and you laughed for a second.

“Yeah… okay.” You mumbled and put a strand of her behind your ear.

After that he quickly got up and left, leaving you with your thoughts.

After you cleaned up your living room and showered you quickly got ready for bed and awaited Vinny’s call when you realized he had texted you the second he had left.

Vin: god this was so hot

He was going to be your death.

DIVIDERS BY @saradika-graphics

[dotieeee]

The Gamemaker's Apprentice

Level 14

Pairing: Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow x You, named!Reader

Overall Warnings:

NON-CON, DUB-CON, Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow, Snow himself should be a warning, lots of blackmailing, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession, possesiveness, eventual forced marriage, eventual loss of virginity, breeding kink, canon-compliant major character death, reader is named but has no physical descriptions in the fic so one might also consider her an OC but in 2nd POV, will have canon inconsistencies, drugging, somnophilia, and other stuff that may be added

Masterlist

Level 14 Warnings:

Graphic non-p&v non-con, graphic violence, alcohol consumption and intoxication

Replay Level 13

Ready? Level 14 Start:

“Nellie! Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you, it’s been soooo long!”

“You look amazing, Nellie. I’m so glad to see you, girl!”

“Nellie, I’m so happy you could make it tonight, it means so much to us.”

Coriolanus Snow’s striking figure stands at his full height while you’re hounded by your old Academy classmates with sweet words, warm smiles, and quick pecks on your cheek – his sharp eyes, however, are unusually hungrier tonight, owing to that dress you’re wearing. To be fair, it was you who made this choice of dress, not him – a figure-hugging crimson-red velvet number with a heart-shaped neckline and puffy sleeves, the hem falling just a few inches above your knees – modest yet showing just enough skin and curve for his mind to go astray.

The way your hips sway in it, and the way he can see just how ample the curve of your ass is for his grabbing while he bends you over and ploughs into you from your ba –

A swift tackle from behind almost knocks the wind out of him, effectively distracting him from you, and when the tackler lets go, he gets pulled in an affectionate one-armed hug by none other than Festus Creed.

“My old friend! Glad you can make it tonight,” Festus greets with a large grin.

“Likewise, Festus. You said you had good news for us, I wouldn’t miss it.”

To Coriolanus, Festus had been a good friend since childhood, and over the years he had proven himself to be a valuable ally. That is why he makes an effort to humour his childhood friend with just about anything he puts his mind to – drinking during the weekends, the occasional sport and game night (he once asked him to join a boxing lesson), and on rare occasions, trips to those fancy strip clubs (where he got his previous escorts from).

Save him fucking unknown girls in a sketchy alleyway, Festus can still put him up to things that Coriolanus doesn’t necessarily have any taste for. This dinner, by far, is one of the more pleasant affairs his friend has come up with, and it’s solely because of Coriolanus’s Citadel-exclusive membership that they were able to reserve highly-coveted seats in one of the tables in the restaurant’s inner garden.

Coriolanus Snow’s eye almost twitches when he sees Festus pull you in for a bear hug and lift you off the floor for a few seconds. He has no reason to be jealous, he reminds himself – Festus is a friend who already has Persephone, who looks happier than ever clinging onto his arm. When he gets a closer look at her as she pulls him in for a quick hug, however, he notices that she has gained weight by a fraction around the midsection.

In an instant, he’s figured out what good news his friend is dying to share. Unless she managed to get her hands on more of her father's infamous wartime stew (Coriolanus shudders to himself), there is no way he could be wrong.

“So Nellie, what did Coriolanus have to do to make you come out of your fortified fortress?” Festus jokes.

You let out a little chuckle and respond in a similar tone, “If you have to know, Festus, he disabled the fortifications, invaded the said fortress, and established a semi-totalitarian regime.”

Even Coriolanus can’t suppress his laugh; you’re by far the wittiest girl he’s ever met – as if he needs another reminder of why he’s so crazy about you.

The White Knight is full on a Saturday night as is expected, the waiting area even more so, but the receptionist is quick to have Festus Creed’s party escorted to the table. Everyone is then plied with refreshments as soon as they’re seated, while a waiter reads out tonight’s specials. There is light chatter which Coriolanus is engaged with animatedly, and everyone else seems to be in chipper spirits, but he’s observing you out of the corner of his eye as he always does.

He’s still quite upset and offended that you had once again attempted to escape him, thank you very much. After all he’s done for you to make sure you’ll never want for anything in his care – the least he deserves was being so cruelly abandoned like you had just tried to do earlier in the day. The punishment he gave you after felt just, but even if he had drawn immense satisfaction from it, that wasn’t how he imagined you pleasuring him by the mouth. It couldn’t be helped, it seems – you needed a much-overdue reminder that you were his and that was the only method he could come up with.

But the way your eyes look so dull and tired presumably from all that crying, even as you tried your best to appear carefree in the presence of friends, stirs something in him. Underneath the table, he takes your hand resting on your lap and laces his fingers between yours in hopes of reassuring you.

Dinner is eventually served in courses, and as usual, everything is delicious. In between bites, Coriolanus manages to sneak glances at you to make sure you’re eating well. Finally, dessert is served, which he knows is your favourite part of every meal, yet you barely get two bites into your cheesecake before you push it towards him.

“You want it? I can’t finish it,” you tell him.

And of course, as the dutiful boyfriend he is, he finishes it off for his sugarplum, earning an eye roll from Festus.

“Look at you two, so disgustingly in love, finishing off each other’s plates and everything,” his friend teases.

Coriolanus's response is a smirk. “And look at you, eating Persephone’s share before she can even put her fork down. It’ll be a wonder she doesn’t starve when you two start living together.”

Careful she doesn't make soup out of you.

The rest of the table erupts into lighthearted giggling; he glances at you sideways and feels a little reassured to see that you’re joining in.

“Speaking of which…” Festus begins after he clears his throat, and, holding Persephone’s hand over the table for everyone to see, he announces what Coriolanus had been suspecting before dinner had even begun.

He and his long-time girlfriend are expecting and are getting married in three months. Despite sleeping around behind her back right after every fight, Persephone had managed to drill some commitment into his friend’s thick skull, which isn’t an easy feat. Coriolanus is genuinely glad at this development – relieved, even, because this means Festus will now have less time for the drinking sprees and mindless shenanigans he’d normally get dragged into.

The table erupts into a chorus of congratulatory messages to which the couple’s faces glow brightly, their grip on each other’s hands tightening as their heads draw marginally closer to each other.

Clemmie asks them something from across the table. “Pers, how far along are you?”

“I’m halfway through my first trimester,” Persephone says. “I’m going to start showing soon, so we’re rushing the preparations. We waited to tell everyone until now because we’d like you guys to play a part in the ceremony.”

“And you, my great, slippery partner in crime,” Festus turns to Coriolanus with a big grin, “Are my best man.”

“It’ll be an honour,” he replies. Best man. Can’t be that bad. How hard can it be to arrange a stag party? He motions to the waiter to fill up all the wine glasses. “My first act as the best man is to propose a toast to my friends Festus and Persephone, or soon-to-be Mr and Mrs Creed, and their baby on the way.”

The table shouts ‘hear, hear’ in unison and empties all of the raised glasses, to which Festus breaks into mock sobs.

“You guys are making me cry,” he fakes wiping his tears using Persephone’s dress-sleeve, which earns a laugh from her and a playful slap on his shoulder.

“I also hope that their future children inherit none of Festus’s rotten genes,” Coriolanus adds as a joke. The entire table laughs along with Persephone as Festus attempts to kick him under the table as he suppresses a toothy smile. Somehow, there is a bit of truth in that – even if his friend means well, he can be a bit dense. Thankfully, Persephone adequately fills that gap. One can just hope she isn't birthing children with cannibalistic tendencies.

The chatter then goes on about the wedding preparations and the following baby shower. Coriolanus fondly recalls you with his cousin and Ma Plinth going over the guest list and the gown designs, a time that you had then ruined with your little disappearing act. He fixes his stare on your face, failing to notice until after a few moments that his own hand has just reached for your left where the engagement ring sits.

Even in his subconscious, he craves any form of contact with you.

Coriolanus notices Persephone’s soft gaze on him, which travels to your clasped hands – perhaps she spots the ring on your hand, for her eyes widen by a fraction before turning back to him with a subtly interested look. He acknowledges the look with a single upturn of his lips.

“Guys, I think we’re not the only ones on this table with good news,” she declares, her excitement palpable. “Nellie, can I see your ring, please?”

It's so endearing how you stammer and smile sheepishly as you attempt to redirect everyone’s attention away from you. “Uh, I…I don’t – I mean, it’s just a ring, this is your night – !”

“Nonsense!” Persephone brushes you off with a genuine smile. “I know an engagement ring when I see one - I've seen them a dozen times. Let us see the ring, please?”

“Wait, what ring?” Clemmie leans forward curiously before she gasps, her eyes darting between him and you. “Oh my, you two as well?”

Lys says with an eager smile, “She’s been totally trying to hide it the entire night. I knew it!”

Coriolanus shrugs within himself and thinks now is a good time as any. “Nellie, it’s okay. You can show them.”

You do as he says demurely while he looks on, mildly amused at the way the others collectively draw closer to your outstretched hand.

Festus guffaws loudly, startling everyone including the waiter who almost drops the plates he’s collecting.

“He finally got the balls to do it, huh? Fuck yeah, congratulations, man!” His friend lets out a whoop as they exchange a warm and vigorous handshake. Festus turns to you, saying, “Nellie, I’m glad you gave him a chance because it was getting really obnoxious how he just talks about you, pining, whenever he gets tipsy.”

It's Coriolanus’s turn to send him a half-hearted kick under the table, unable to help his growing smirk. “You’re a horrible liar, Creed, I do not pine.”

The girls congratulate you both as a couple, and his friend offers a similar congratulatory toast while declaring himself Coriolanus’s best man.

“There is no one else I can think of who’ll fit the bill,” Coriolanus agrees. “Also, I’d appreciate it if this stays between us for now, as we plan to announce it after the 12th Games. The wedding is in six months, approximately.”

“Of course,” Lys nods. “You can trust us, Coriolanus. Festus is the only one in this table who can’t keep a secret.”

“Hey!”

“Can I tell Livia, though?”

Lys, Festus and Persephone gape at Clemmie and her question, but she just shrugs it off over a sip of her glass. “What? She’s going to find out anyway.”

You look understandably confused. “Oh yeah, I thought she’d be joining today.”

Inwardly, Coriolanus doesn’t care if his former prospect avoids him forever, but he hadn’t told you about him almost choosing her at first before he set his eyes on you. He’d very much like to see how you’d respond, although he masks this interest by feigning awkwardness.

Persephone licks her lips before explaining. “She said she had something else to attend to, but I think she’s just upset with Coriolanus.”

This conversation is turning out to be in his favour. “This was before you, Nellie. We were supposed to go on this date, but I decided against it. Honestly, it wasn’t that bad, we didn’t even talk.”

“’It wasn’t that bad?’ Are you kidding me?” Festus says in between sniggers. “You practically scarred her, leaving her out to dry like that.”

Clemmie nods thoughtfully. “Or in her words, you led her on and essentially ghosted her.”

“So imagine how mad she was when she started hearing rumours about the two of you,” Persephone recounts. “People always whispered about how close you two were, but all we got were mere speculations.”

Lys chimes in, “And then we see that article about Mr Plinth’s birthday party.”

“Yes, that! Nellie, you were so freaking pretty, gosh. I have to tell you, it was all I could hear from the girls I knew in class. You made red silk slip dresses a trend,” Clemmie gushes. “Anyway, Livia phoned me the night that article came out, we went out for drinks and she ended up getting wasted and so stressed out about it. It was so messy, I’m telling you.”

Coriolanus intently observes your reaction – you keep your face guarded, but he can tell by looking into your eyes that you’re surprised at the revelations. “Sorry, you had to find out this way. I meant to tell you all about it.”

To further paint the repentant boyfriend, he keeps a rueful expression and takes your hand in his. Your posture stiffens a little.

“It’s…it’s fine, honestly…”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Nellie,” Persephone gently says.

Lys nods in agreement, and Clemmie begins teasing you. “Nellie, I didn’t know you had a jealous streak. Seriously, don’t be!”

You bristle at the ladies’ playful teasing, the tip of your ears reddening at the attention as you vehemently deny them. “No, I’m not...!”

If Coriolanus was a lesser man, he would’ve kissed you right there and then, damn everybody who’s watching.

But there it is – the reaction he’d been waiting to see from everyone since the talk of that Cardew girl began – to the circle, your approach on the subject is natural as his girlfriend and fiancée. Eventually, however, you successfully revert the topic to Persephone’s wedding preparations, which somehow leads to a collective decision to move to Club Heresy for a few drinks.

Club Heresy, located just a few blocks away, is an exclusive invite-only club, and in Clemmie’s words, the ‘hottest’ nightclub in the city where the richest, most popular kids in the Capitol are known to frequent. Coriolanus had been there too many times to count, but it'll be your first time. He’s aware he may have overwhelmed you with tonight’s dinner, so he has to be close by preferably at all times to look out for you.

As soon as you get inside the loud, crowded, dimly-lit box they call Club Heresy, you wrench away from the girls to go to the bathroom. You see something akin to suspicion in Coriolanus’s eyes when you tell him, but you don’t wait for permission from him – you extricate yourself from your company the moment you get his hand off your waist, and as soon as you lock the bathroom stall, you cover your mouth with both your palms and scream.

You let out several guttural screams, unable to care any less if anyone else can hear.

He had a choice.

He had a choice, a voice keeps repeating in your head. It could’ve been someone else’s life he’d ruined. It could’ve been Livia Cardew in your place, being dragged into Coriolanus Snow’s life – and if what your old classmates had said is to be believed, she sounded willing to participate, even heartbroken that she had lost the chance.

But for whatever rotten, miserable, fucked-up reason, he still chose to make your life a living hell by forcing you into a relationship you never asked for, and soon, into a marriage you’ll never want.

Your screams eventually morph into uncontrollable sobbing, which you still try to stifle with your hands.

A knock on your bathroom stall echoes in the space, followed by an impatient voice on the other side that asks, “Hey, excuse me? You’ve been in there so long, other people have to go to, you know.”

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

The retort you let out might’ve been too abrasive, but the scary part is, you can’t bring yourself to give a damn anymore. You’re turning into a person you no longer recognise the longer you’re with him, and it’s a person you’re starting to hate.

Coriolanus is dragged away to the bar by Festus as he watches your form scurry away and disappear through the crowd of intoxicated bodies thrashing to ear-splitting electronic music. The two males leave the ladies at the VIP booth so they can drink and talk in peace.

“Hey, she’s not going to try and escape man, what the hell?” Festus shouts through the noise.

You have no idea, Coriolanus thinks wryly.

They get to the bar where it’s significantly quieter, and where Festus challenges him to shots of vodka and watered-down posca to chase them with.

Festus grimaces after downing the first shot and asks, “Hey listen, congratulations on finally nailing her down, but six months? You knocked her up, didn’t you?”

“No.” Coriolanus empties the second the shot glass, eager to get this drinking spree over with. Though he can afford to pay for it now and even chooses to partake at times, he’s aware that constant inebriation isn’t ideal for someone like him who has an impeccable image to uphold. “I told you many times: I’m – we’re waiting for marriage.”

“Yeah, I remember feeling the same way – two years ago. I’ve always admired your self-control, Snow, but nobody’s perfect.” Festus snorts in laughter and spills some of the posca on the bar.

Even as aware as he is that his restraint concerning you continues to slip by the day, Coriolanus merely scoffs when he goes through the fifth shot and chaser, deliberately ignoring the heightening buzz. “What can I say, Creed? I’m learning from your mistakes.”

His friend, who’s clearly starting to lose inhibition due to the alcohol, erupts into fits of giggles, before pointing at something from across the bar. Obviously slurring now, he says, “Uh-oh, troublewithyourgirl, two, three, o’clock?”

Coriolanus whips his head fast enough to almost cause a dizzy spell. True enough, he sees you, his precious sugarplum, your eyes red-rimmed and your brows drawn together in a frown, trying to evade – and failing – a guy who’s clearly invading your personal space and making unwanted advances.

He tries not to see red, but with every step he takes closer to you, it becomes increasingly impossible. He stares daggers at the male as he gets in between you two.

“I’d step away now if I were you,” he says, his jaw tensing and his fists curling and uncurling. Don’t let the alcohol get to your head, he recites inwardly.

“Mind your own business, punk, I’m trying to score here,” the bastard says, pushing and brushing past him to get to your frame currently retreating further into your future husband’s back.

This fills him with pride and warmth, knowing that even if you’re not in the best of terms, you still turn to him for protection. It’s his duty, he’s well aware, but he also loves you - enough for him to admit he’d die first before he lets anyone harm a single strand of your hair.

That duty of his is the only thing on his mind the second the bastard grabs your arm – he lets the sweet, intoxicating, elixir do wonders in his brain and lets his fist fly right onto the scum’s nose.

Nobody gets to touch what belongs to Coriolanus Snow except Coriolanus Snow.

Screams from a few people on the dance floor overpower the thumping electronic music, the crowd drawing back to give space to the man currently on the floor, knocked out by a single, powerful punch from your fiancé. It takes a few seconds later than you would’ve liked – owning to the fact that the man’s nose is bleeding profusely and you try not to let the image of the thick, red liquid get into your head – but you wrap your arms around Coriolanus’s midriff to keep him from launching himself on the man with all intents to further rough him up. The burly club bouncers are immediately at the scene while the man tries to get back on his feet to no avail.

Coriolanus is quick to explain the situation, saying how the bastard ‘groped’ his girlfriend; the bouncers ask no more questions and haul the man away.

“This’s new. I normally start the fights,” Festus, who had just arrived at the scene smelling like an entire bar with his eyes drooping and red, merely grins proudly at his friend, but this has no effect on him whatsoever.

Coriolanus still looks like he’s about to murder someone on sight, so you attempt to placate him by placing a hand on his arm. His gaze instantly softens by a fraction when he looks at it, but then he makes a grab for it, and, after dragging you around to bid the entire group farewell, you find yourself back in the car, wedged in between the upholstered backseat and your boyfriend’s sinewy form, the air being sucked out of you by his mouth firmly latched onto yours.

As Coriolanus drags his lips against your lips, you wilt with dread; the kiss he’s forcing you to share is filled with the kind of urgency and hunger that you suspect won’t let up anytime soon, judging by how he smells and tastes of vodka and posca. He pauses briefly when he drags you across his lobby, but the kiss is back full force when the elevator closes, and the moment his apartment door closes behind you, he lifts your entire body over his shoulder and carries you to his bedroom, squealing and hitting whatever part of him you could reach with your flailing fists.

He ignores all of this and essentially throws you on his bed. Your attempts to crawl away are then hindered when he climbs on top of you and straddles you on the hips.

“No, get off me – !”

His body descends on yours and he kisses you once more in the mouth to silence you, but once his hand strokes your thigh and hikes up your dress, you push his chest with all your might and break the kiss.

“No, please – !”

But you’re cut off by your own scream – he’s just flipped you on your stomach with a growl over your ear, and once again, he pins you in place with his thighs on either side of your hips. You’re panicking by now; this new position only offers you a view of the headboard when you lift your head and prevents any more of your already limited movement, and since he wouldn’t budge an inch, there’s very little you can do now to get out of his grasp except one thing:

You break down in tears and beg.

“Please, Coryo, let me go…”

But all that earns you is him whispering hotly over your ear.

“Hush, my sugarplum. I did promise to wait until we’re married, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have any fun.”

That’s when you feel him rip the back of your dress, and the tearing sound mingles with your own terrified sobs. With the way you can feel the cold prickling your skin, you can tell he’s torn the dress until your lower back – if he had torn an inch further, he could’ve exposed the crack of your ass, covered modestly by your underwear.

With his lips grazing your ear, he hisses, “Nobody touches what’s mine except me.”

Within seconds of ripping your dress, you can feel him suckle and bite on whatever part of your back he can reach, his tongue leaving hot, wet trails on the exposed, stinging flesh – as if that isn’t enough, his hand further pushes your shoulder into the mattress, while his other snakes underneath the part of the dress he hasn’t pulled up and travels between your thighs. He begins stroking your clothed cunt with his fingers, and to your embarrassment, you can feel your own warmth soaking your panties as soon as he does. When you writhe helplessly underneath him, his tongue licks upwards, stopping at the base of your neck before he plants a kiss on your hair and whispers:

“Sshh, my little sugarplum; let me reward you for doing so well tonight.”

“Coryo, no, please, please…!”

Alternating between shushing you and kissing your temples, Coriolanus pushes your panties aside and rubs your wet entrance, right before you feel a finger of his pushing into your untouched hole.

The unwanted friction stings a little, earning a choked scream from you, and you learn quickly that squirming actually makes it worse. So, you lie perfectly still and squeeze the pillow before you while he fully plunges the finger inside you before pulling it out and pushing it back in.

He's gone to a place in you that you never even knew existed, every thrust of his finger makes you realise just how sensitive that place is. He settles for a steady pace in no time as you adjust to the feeling, and as shameful as it already is, your cries are reduced to whimpers, and eventually to moans, and your muscles begin to clench and unclench around his finger uncontrollably.

“So fucking tight, my sugarplum,” he whispers against his temple. “Is this how tightly you’ll squeeze my cock when I take you on our wedding night?”

His finger brushes over an area inside you that causes you to arch your back and curl your toes – you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, but you can’t bring yourself to care. For now, all you can think of is that finger hitting that same spot over and over, your insides clenching him erratically.

“You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel it. Let go, my sugarplum.”

Close to what, you find out soon enough – your first orgasm invades all your senses, wracking your body with tremors. Pleasure like you’ve never felt before, forced from you by your fiancé’s ministrations – but it fades as soon it comes, replaced by relief when that finger finally leaves your core and the body pinning you down draws back a little, then by pure shame and guilt for your body reacting as it did when you should have hated it.

“See what I give you when you obey me?”

You don’t spend more than a few moments to contemplate just how appalled you are at yourself – above you, you hear the rustling of a belt buckle being undone and a zipper being pulled down, and you panic again, pleading to him and wishing he’d just leave you alone.

“Please, Coryo, don’t…”

Coriolanus shushes you again, this time, gripping the left side of your waist to keep you in place while you hear him starting to breathe steadily heavier. You lie still, afraid of what he might do, but all you hear from him after a few tense seconds is his strained groaning and cursing under his breath.

“Fuck, you’re going to feel so good when I’m inside you…”

He’s pleasuring himself above you, and the realisation leaves you mortified, but you decide to ignore him and block out everything altogether.

“Can’t you feel me trying to make you feel good, Nellie?” He asks in between his panting and grunting. “Why can’t you see me trying to give you everything you want? To make you feel happy? Why can’t you just accept that I love you?”

You decide to ignore that, too.

What you can’t ignore, however, is the sound of him reaching his peak – it’s a vulgar sound, you note – followed by something hot and wet spilling on your lower back, indicating he’s spilt himself on you.

You feel him draw closer, breathing heavily into your ear and whispering, “You’re mine. You’ll learn to accept that in time.”

The bed shifts when he finally gets off you, but he kisses you once on the back of your neck and on your head, probably – hopefully – for the last time tonight, before saying, “Now would be a perfect time to start accepting your reality; otherwise, you’re just going to be miserable. And I don’t want that. I want to make you happy, and I will – you just have to let me.”

He later cleans you up with a wet towel and removes whatever is left of your dress, leaving you in only your underwear – you close your eyes the entire time and just let him. You scoot over to the edge of the bed when he comes back, shirtless and clad in only his boxer shorts, but he wraps his arm around you tightly and pulls you by the waist until your back touches his chest. The action is enough for the tears to come spilling for the umpteenth time this day, but you try to keep it down to mere sniffling. He coos from behind you and places his lips on the side of your neck in this gentle, lingering kiss.

“I’m placing you on paid suspension. Because of what you did, sugarplum, I’d have to send your uncle to exile in the Districts. Understand this: this isn’t meant to hurt you in any way. I only mean to teach you a lesson: do as I say, and you’ll never have to cry like this again.”

Coriolanus plants a series of butterfly kisses on the same spot, travelling to your shoulder and back. He then burrows his face at the groove of your neck, inhaling deeply and sighing with absolute contentment.

“I love you, Nellie,” he murmurs against your skin. “Now, sleep. Everything will be better in the morning.”

But with him, you can never really know, can you?

“So, Nellie dear, what do you think of this?”

Ma Plinth pores into the catalogue you have open in your lap and points on page fifteen.

She set up a Sunday morning appointment with Nicolau Daley, a renowned professional wedding planner whose energy you can barely keep up with as he showed you countless catalogues of wedding themes and decorations and needlessly described them in detail. You’re unable to focus on the said page, but you nod anyway.

“I think it’s pretty, Ma.”

“I think so too,” she nods to herself. “Coriolanus would like it as well, seeing as it’s full of the red roses he’s partial to…”

Ah yes. It’s all about what he wants, isn’t it?

Ma rummages through the hefty stack of other catalogues piled on the coffee table before you.

“Let me show you the one he and I initially agreed on so you can pick which one you like best...”

At the end of the scheduled appointment, you both walk out of Mr Daley’s office with samples of wedding décor carried by Ma’s maid, with Ma in light spirits and you…just about as chipper as one can be when one is forced into marrying a sadistic monster.

You both stroll along the busy 7th Street, the Capitol’s long mecca of luxury goods its residents go crazy for. It’s this day that you discover that Ma is like almost every woman you know when it comes to shopping: from every shop she visits with the intention of ‘just looking around,’ you come out with more bags than you entered, and the hapless maid tailing behind has to deal with carrying the packages.

“Let her do it, Nellie dear,” she dismisses your offer to her maid to help her. “I’ve never taken you out on a shopping day like this, and I want you to have fun!”

By the end of the impromptu shopping spree, you’ve combed all the shops along 7th street and have reached the corner between 7th and 9th, but as you exit, Ma decides to go back inside to get a pair of gloves and asks you to wait outside.

“You can look around and see if there’s anything you like from that store and I’ll meet you right back here in about fifteen minutes,” she instructs, pointing to the other side of the street before vanishing into the shop.

You wonder half-heartedly what will happen to her if you make a run for it now. You certainly have some time before she realises that you've gone. What would Coriolanus do? He will likely never dare hurt her, of course, lest he incurs Strabo Plinth’s wrath. But where will you go, when your inter-district travel pass has been revoked? You’ll most likely never get far, and anyone in the Capitol you ask help from, save your uncle, would turn you back into your fiancé’s custody in a heartbeat.

Your gloomy musings are interrupted when you notice you’ve just turned to the first shop on 9th Street. You face its window, with the words ‘Second Chances Pet Shelter’ in bright paint, and without thinking, you push the door open and enter.

The establishment is rather small, but stacked with steel cages on the walls filled with all sorts of animals. At the end of the space sits a woman behind a counter who introduces herself as Patty. She gets to her feet when she sees you, greets you with a smile and begins recounting the shelter’s history.

They’re a local animal rescue organisation, you discover, and they began with the noble effort of rehabilitating abandoned animals after the war. They have since thrived to this day, given the Capitol’s rather flimsy trends – once a type of pet has gone out of style, the poor things are either euthanised or abandoned to the elements and left to fend for themselves.

Patty’s retelling is interrupted when you feel something soft brush against your legs. You look down to see what it is.

“Oh dear, Oscar has escaped his cage again,” she exclaims with a fond yet exasperated sigh. “Oscar…”

Oscar, a long-haired cat with a black and white coat resembling that of a tuxedo, just proceeds to weave through your legs and ignore the shopkeeper.

“I’m sorry, he’s just so frighteningly smart,” she says. “He keeps breaking the cage’s locking mechanism. This is the sixth cage he's broken in a month.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckle. At least one of you has the ability to break away. “Can I pick him up?”

Having no experience with pets since your uncle is allergic, you’re not sure how to handle him.

“I’d be careful if I were you; he’s a bit of an old-timer. He only tolerates me and he doesn’t really take kindly with other people. Come to think of it, you’re the only person who’s ever walked in here that he’s interacted with…”

You kneel on the floor to get close to Oscar’s height. Patty instructs you to hold out a finger for him to sniff at.

“In cat-speak, it means ‘hello.’”

To your surprise, Oscar rubs his whiskered cheek on your outstretched finger.

“Oh my!” Patty exclaims excitedly. “It means he thinks you’re friends now, I think. You can pet him if you want.”

But you don’t even wait for her instruction – Oscar takes it to himself to rub his chin on your hand, while you use your other hand to pat his head, and this goes on for about a minute before he turns his tail on you and walks gracefully away.

A few raps on the glass window alert you to Ma, waving at you cheerily and motioning to someone standing behind her with an almost curious glint in his eyes.

Coriolanus Snow flashes you a grin and tilts his head purposefully. You’ve come to know what that means in Coryo-speak:

Time to go.

You try not to think about the fact that you’ll likely never see Oscar the cat again, but you take out your rarely-used chequebook and write the shelter a hefty amount – hoping your Uncle wouldn’t mind – to which the lady thanks you profusely for. She lets you say goodbye to Oscar, who’s currently atop one of the shop’s shelves, grooming his pretty long coat. He snubs you completely, which you think is for the better – it’s a lot less heartbreaking for you that way when you finally exit the shop.

Coriolanus immediately gives you a fleeting kiss on the lips in greeting. “How’s the shopping going, my sugarplum?”

“It's going well, thank you.” Until you showed up, anyway.

You notice his gaze flick momentarily back to the shop, then back to yours.

“Let’s get you home, then, shall we?”

Without waiting for your response, he grabs you by the waist and steers you into the car. When you arrive in his apartment, you learn what he just meant by getting you ‘home.’

Once he’s taken his coat off, he drags you to his bedroom, sits on the edge of the bed, and issues a simple command:

“Get on your knees, sugarplum.”

Enter Level 15

Next on Level 15 - Uncle Cas officially leaves to his exile immediately after the engagement party; you make a friend of sorts out of a former bully; Snowball tries to cheer you up by giving you a gift; you make a surprising choice for your maid of honour.

Author notes:

Please reblog and comment, it's always appreciated! Anyone wonder what this gift will be? 😊🤭🫣

[demosuo]

The Snow Melted (Giyuu Tomioka x Reader)

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

tw: physical abuse, alcoholic parent.

Kind of slow burn bc idk how to pace in stories, childhood friends to lovers in a way. I’m doing character building in this chapter, you’ll meet the man in the next chapter, promise. 

You walked through the village, periodically adjusting the basket of charcoal on your back as you greeted everyone. You were trying to sell as much as you could, hoping that you would be able to save up enough money for you and your family to have an extravagant dinner, where everyone can eat as much as they wanted.

“Oh, (Y/N)!”

“(Y/N), (Y/N)!”

“Tanjiro! I didn’t think you’d show up today! I see you’ve bought some company!” You waved him over, jogging over to meet him up in the middle. You gave the short boy a quick hug, squeezing him tightly before doing the same to his younger siblings. You and Tanjiro would bump into each other often during your runs through the village, it was only a matter of time before the two of you became close. There were occasions when he would invite you over for dinner and vice versa. Although, both would rather just go to his instead. Not only was it closer, but a safer option.

“They snuck onto the cart...” He pouted.  “By the time I realised that they were on, it would’ve been too late to turn back.” He sighed. Not in the slightest was he annoyed, more just worried that he had to keep an eye on them while trying to sell. He watched them hop off the cart to run around before turning to face you. “How much have you sold already? Would you like to walk around together?”

“I haven’t sold that much yet but I’d be more than happy to do it together.” You ruffled his hair before dragging him along. He would talk about what had been happening with his family, all the silly little things his siblings would do, and how his mother's new recipe tasted amazing. Never once has there been a dull day with him, he was like a little brother to you.

“Hanako! Shigeru! Please don’t run off too far!”

“You’re such a good brother to them, Tanjiro. I’m glad they have you.” He looked up at you, ready to throw his modesty at you before he saw the soft look in your eyes. “I wish I had an older sibling like you, it’s too bad that I’m an only child.” He suddenly let go of the handles of the cart and grabbed your hand.

“If it makes you feel any better, everyone in my family thinks of you as their older sister! Especially Takeo, but he’s too embarrassed to admit it. Mother really likes you too!” Shock flew onto your face. Man he could be so obliviously bold sometimes.

“Tanjiro-”

“Oi! You two! You guys are being very cute and all but can you help me with something? I also need a restock on some charcoal!” Their heads snapped towards the voice.

The two of them immediately jumped to help the old man waving them over. The day continued on as per usual; the two of you walked around chatting and selling as much charcoal as you can, helping with day-to-day problems the civilians had, and fixing small items.

“See you later, Tanjiro! The two of you better behave, Hanako! Shigeru!” You gave one last tight hug to the boy and his siblings before departing in the direction of your home.

Home was supposed to be a place of safety and comfort, a place full of memories attached to every room and every item. So why was it that you felt so much dread and fear every time you had to leave the village? Or why even the thought of having to walk through the front door had your breathing hitched? Would you even consider it your home or a place you live in?

You rushed through all the snow, legs burning as you kept running. You had to get home before sun fall, you couldn’t let your mother and father be mad at you. You quickly dropped off your basket the second you reached the grounds of your home before running to the door. Noticing how dark it has gotten, your hand froze near the handle. Your heart racing with anxiety, the uncomfortable sensation crawling from your stomach up to your chest, your hands shook and you knew well enough it wasn’t from the cold.

Each inhale got released quicker than the last, you had to enter through this door, what was so hard about opening a door? You took a deep breath in and shut your eyes, sliding the door hard enough for it to slam at the stopper, bracing yourself for what could come.

“(Y/N), come here.”

“Yes, father.” You shut the door as you entered the building. You kept your eyes trained to the ground, not daring to look up at the man. You knelt down before him, closing your eyes shut once more. Your body tensed, your hands gripping on to your robe, ready to shoot up to protect yourself.

“Could you please explain to me why a broken bottle of sake was spotted near the trash?” There was that feeling again. You felt the walls closing in on you, you felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Oxygen wasn’t reaching your lungs properly, it felt uncomfortable with every breath you took in and let out. A wave of heat splashed on your body, your hands were starting to get clammy.

“F… Father, it was an accident, I promise! I didn’t mean to break the bottle or to hide it from you-”

“You piece of shit!” A loud slap echoed in the room. “You can’t do one single thing right! You should’ve never been born in the first place, I should’ve left you to die!” 

You bought up your arms to block your head, hoping that the impact wouldn’t be as harsh. One after another, his hands started to curl into fists. His knuckles buried themselves into your skin every time they make contact. Why couldn’t you fight back anymore? You used to be able to fight back so well, why couldn’t you bring yourself to yell back at him, try and physically fight him back? What changed?

“I’m sorry! Stop, please, I’ll do better! You’re hurting me too much!”

“Honey, that’s enough!” Your mother grabbed onto his arm, only to be flung into the closest wall. He stared down at the woman, the cries that tried to be silent never reaching his ears. “Did you seriously just do that?!” The older woman yelled. He turned his full body at her, arguing back with her.

The screaming and yelling.

The burning, throbbing pain all over your head and arms.

The strangling in your throat as you tried to hold back a sob.

It was too much.

All the tension in your body finally snapped. You turned towards the door and pushed your body to move. Stumbling towards your only exit, you slammed the door open.

“Get back here! I’m not fucking done with you!”

Don’t stop, keep going. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.

You heard a pair of footsteps behind you, fearing that it may be your father, you didn’t dare to look back in case it was. You dodged through the trees, trying to keep your stride short enough to run effectively in the snow. The only thing you didn’t account for, was the narrowing of the path. You were running alongside a cliff, a once easy walk through was now a death trap as the ground beneath the snow started to ice over.

“Wait!”

That voice didn’t belong to your father. It was laced with hope and desperation. The second you looked back, you saw a taller figure with a red and white kitsune mask on. Just as you tried to slow down, your foot slammed into a root hidden beneath the white blanket. Your eyes widen as your body falls forward and over the edge of the cliff. A hand grabbed onto your haori, tugging you into an embrace before the impact of the ground hit. The hold was protective, it was warm.

“Hey, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can.” The man felt your hand curl around his, nothing close to a squeeze but it was a sign to him that you were still alive.

“I’m going to take you back to my place, you deserve better than a house full of those wretched demons.” He stared down at you, feeling your hand go limp. You were now unconscious; all the adrenaline finally knocking you out. The man carefully picked you up, gently placing you over his shoulders as he trudged through the thick snow. “Speaking of…”

He placed a firm grip on your back as he raised his katana at the glowing eyes that stared him down. It was going to take a lot longer to reach home than he would have liked but as long as you were safe, he could let it slide for now.

--

Your eyes shot open as your body threw itself forward. You were going to have a look at your surroundings before your vision darkened. Everything started to blur, your head feeling light, it was only seconds before you slammed your head back down on the pillow.

“Hey, be careful now.” A hand caught your head, easing it down on the soft pillow. “Your body is still recovering.”

“Who are you?” You croaked out, turning your head to look at the voice. The same red and white kitsune mask you saw from last night, sitting on the side of the man's head.

“My name is Fuyuhito Touwa. We met when you were younger.” He placed a warm cup of tea beside you. “Please, take your time. You are safe here under my protection.”

“Oh… I remember… You and father wanted to train me to be the next snow hashira?” You slowly flipped onto your side and propped yourself up on one arm. “What happened to that?” You grabbed the handle of the cup, bringing it up to your lips to take a sip.

“Your father and I got into a rather big argument about you becoming one. I can understand where he was coming from to an extent, but I did not support his way of training you.” His focus was on you, gauging your reaction with every word that fell out of his mouth. “He would use his hand against you a lot. It is absolutely no way anyone should be treating their own kid. If you want to stop talking about this, please let me know.”

“I will.” You softly spoke back. Memories flashing in your head from what he reminded you of. You placed down the cup, not realising how quickly you skulled the drink. “I will be honest, I did forget about it. It’s one of those memories I’ve suppressed.”

“Understandably so. Would you like a refill?”

“Yes please.” Everything about him felt comfortable. It was the opposite feeling to your father. Instead of dread and fear, it felt safe, peaceful even. “What made you come back? I wasn’t expecting you to be the one chasing me.” You tried to joke around, not liking the depressive atmosphere.

“I must’ve frightened you quite a bit, I apologise for that. I wasn’t expecting to be chasing you.” He chuckled, going along with your attempt to lighten the mood. “I felt… Something off. I regret leaving you behind with that man and his wife, so I came back to try and ask if he would let me resume training you as an excuse to get you away.” Your gaze softens at the man, heart warming with familial love.  

“You came back for me.”

“Of course, I did.” He placed his hand on your head, ruffling up your already messy hair. “On a more serious note, would you like to continue your training?”

“Yes,” Without missing a heartbeat, you responded with no hesitation. “I want to be able to fight back and not only protect myself, but the people I care about.”

“There’s that fighting spirit again. Rest up for now, we will begin the day after tomorrow. We shall talk more in the morning.” He blew out the candles that lit up your room. Before leaving your  new room, he glanced back one more time, a small but noticeable smile creeping his lips.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

--

please leave a comment or reblog it if you want! I'd love to hear everyone's feedback on this series!

[frostironfudge]

I Think I Met You In My Dreams Once - Bucky Barnes - Seven

Summary: After receiving an honourable discharge from his military service that was caused by the loss of his arm, James Barnes begins to come to terms with several things. He also finds solace in youtube videos, memes and on social media, where he happens to find you.

Pairing: Ex-Military!Bucky Barnes x Fem! Plus Size!Reader (Modern AU)

Chapter Warnings: angst, swear words, smut, fluff, discussion of bucky's arm, family dinner drama, protective!bucky, dom!bucky (i gave over control to bucky basically during the smut soooooo)

Word Count: 6234 Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Fic Masterlist || Main Masterlist || AO3 || Fic Playlist

Chapter Six || Chapter Eight

Bucky sighs at the lingering exhaustion as he sits on the soft worn couch. Winnie Barnes sets down a small tray of her trademark brownies and the scent reminds Bucky of a childhood untainted. Full of warmth like the soft steam from the tray that is cooling in the kitchen.

He loved how scents were a powerful tool for memory. How they would bring forth nostalgia from the depths of his mind. 

Then his mother walks in, a soft scent of freesias from her perfume further takes him down memory lane. Swing sets, sandcastles, the soft dew drops from the grass he ran on pretending to be an airplane, hands abducted out wide. Rebecca laughing at his funny faces. His father nursing a drink, the scent of the harsher alcohol has him scrunch his face. 

He inhales deeply allowing the gooey chocolate scent to overtake his mind again.

“Been a while since you came down to meet your old mum. You should stay the entire weekend more often.” Her voice is light but he knows she misses him dearly. He did too. 

“Sorry Ma, work has been… hectic.” He says for lack of a better word than chaotic. 

“And how is Y/N doing?” Winnie pulls his cheeks when he blushes. 

“She’s great, we had our first argument/fight thing but we sorted it out three weeks ago. Been good since the past week.” He says with a smile. 

“I’m glad you both worked it out. Becca was supposed to join in, too. You know how her thesis things go.” Winnie shakes her head, then shrugs.

He grabs a brownie from the plate and relishes the taste. Winnie just smiles at her son. Happiness finding her heart at his happiness. 

“You’re happy with this long distance thing Bucky?” She asks after a moment of silence, “I know you’ve had experience with being away from family, this is different.” She glances at him with worry lacing her voice and eyes. 

Bucky’s blue eyes soften, taking in his mother’s demeanour. 

“I, it is hard. Somedays it is as if she stays the strong one for us and other days it is as if I stay strong for us, but most days? We’re equally strong.” He admits, placing the half eaten brownie on a tissue. 

Winnie nods, “How is the trial going?” She gives a small smile, Bucky winces, forgetting he never told her to avoid her worrisome questions and having her stressed over him. 

“Bucky.” She says using her mom voice, the very tone that had him admit he was the one who ate all the ten cookies left in the cookie jar when he was seven. 

“Well, um, about that…” He scratches the back of his neck and then his fingertips graze over where the mounting plate was on his left axilla. All he feels is the material of his t shirt the one you bought him from the merchandise of Buzzfeed Unsolved.  

“What is it?” Her brows furrow and he wants to kick himself, he takes a deep breath beginning to explain what occurred. When he is done Winnie is wiping stray tears from her eyes and his thumb wipes away the few that she can’t get too within time. 

“So that’s it?” She asks, a hope within her crumbling. 

“Ma, I’m still me, I don’t need the arm.” Bucky assures. 

“I know, I just, it would be helpful to you, you participated for a reason.” She straightens the crumpled tissue in her hand, tracing over the damp splotches of her tears with her finger. 

“I know, but I am leading my life without any issues.” He reminds her, she nods. 

“You know I worry.” She explains, a watery laugh has her son engulf her in a hug. 

“I hope you know I’m proud of you.”

“I’ll always try and make you proud. I love you.” He kisses her cheek as they pull away. 

“Are you planning to visit her?” She questions as the doorbell rings. 

Bucky rises from his place, smiling at the prospect, “I might have thought about it.” 

“James Barnes.” Winnie grins, “What are you planning?” 

“Well first off, Doll has sent you a bouquet ahead of our lunch/late dinner date with her.” He holds the beautiful vase of  roses in his hand and Winnie raises a brow.

“Check the note.” He urges with a smile, this was all your doing. 

Winnie touches the flowers and finds the note nestled into them, its typed out, she can’t stop smiling as she reads it. 

Dear Mrs. Barnes,

First of all I would like to say thank you for agreeing to meet me and i’m so excited to finally meet you, Bucky speaks so highly of you and it as honour to meet the woman who raised the man i love.

I know this isn’t the most ideal way to meet you and get to know you but i want to look at it in the positive that there are more events of us meeting in the future which is why today we’ll speak only through computer screens. 

i hope you like the flowers Bucky said you adore red and pink roses so i picked those, i hope i was able to make you smile, he says he loves seeing you smile it brightens his day and based on the pictures he showed me i can see why 

Thank you once again, i look forward to our lunch-dinner also please remind Bucky to vacuum pack and send me some of your brownies he keeps teasing me about not being able to taste them. 

Love, 

Y/N 

Winnie turned to look at her son, a beaming smile on her face. 

“I think I already adore her.” She admits and Bucky’s smile widens. 

“Told you, she’s just so purely loveable.”

“I can’t wait to meet her also, no more brownies and find out how can we send her som.”

His eyes widen, “Ma!” He says complaining. 

“You’re the one making her feel bad again and again, no more brownies.” She says sternly raising her index finger. 

Bucky🌻:

You cost me my brownie dosage. Mum revoked my access because of your note she loved the flowers by the way. 

Doll🌸:

Serves you right. Tease. Now i get to have them and you get to feel left out. I’m glad she did, I hope they brightened up her smile like you adore. 

Bucky smiles warmth encasing his heart. You were always so thoughtful. God he couldn’t wait to just pull you against his chest and keep you there forever. 

Bucky gazes at your picture lovingly, then his brows furrow when he reads your text. 

To say you were nervous was an understatement. Nat had been on texting standby and you had probably been the reason for her screen time to increase by tenfold. 

Your latest message to her way full of worry. 

You:

What if I say the wrong thing? What if Mrs. Barnes hates me? Oh god what if she thinks I’m not worthy of Bucky? 

I’m going to have a meltdown, Bucky says she liked the flowers, but i just oh god what if the note was a stupid idea. It was wasn’t it? Why the hell did you not stop me?????

Nat, fuck, i think i’m going to throw up. 

When your phone chimes you open Bucky’s text then freeze, you had texted him instead of Natasha. Fuck this device, fuck the fact that un-send does not exist on iMessage. Fuck. 

Bucky🌻: 

Doll, she already adores you so much, honestly i think after today she’s going to think i’m not worthy of you. 

And she loved the note, adored it, she’s googling food courier services as we speak for your brownies. 

I know you’re nervous, I was too, remember when your dad just stared me down for five minutes, I went into cardiac arrest. 

And you remember what you told me?

You smile recalling what you had texted him from under the table. You even screen-shotted the conversation. 

Doll🌸:

I texted you from under the table that imagine i’m holding your hand and rubbing soothing circles, that even if it’s intimidating its just two people who will come to love and adore you as I have. 

Bucky🌻: 

exactly so, i’m holding your hand Doll, and not letting go one bit during lunch/dinner, even if that means I can’t eat, lol, one arm problems.

Doll🌸:

James…

Bucky🌻: 

Oh so you can make jokes about your trauma but I can’t? Unfair, unfair i tell you. This will be sorted in the court of Her Honourable Judge Alpine. 

Doll🌸:

Bold of you to assume she won’t side with me, she loves me more.

Bucky🌻:

I’m her dad and she loves me most. 

Doll🌸: 

Right, right well, we’ll see about that Mr. Barnes. 

Bucky🌻: 

Getting formal are we?

Doll🌸: 

Maybe or I just like to see you riled up, Mr. Barnes. 

You giggle when the typing dots appear and the disappear, he’s trying to come up with a biting reply. 

You kick it up a notch sending a voice note that has Bucky feeling his pants are very constricting. 

“Mr. Barnes,” You’d dipped your voice by an octave, trying to sound sultry, “Have I caught your tongue? Or is it simply begging to taste something sweet?” 

Bucky🌻:

Doll, you will be the death of me.

Bucky had to eat his words because just as he set up the laptop on the dining table doing a test call, Alpine jumped on the table and booped the screen and meowed at your smug face. 

“I believe the Judge is in my favour.” You chuckle, cooing at Alpine. 

“You’ve just bribed her with toys.” He huffs while partially true, only three of her toys are from you but she loves them dearly. Bucky directs Alpine off of the table and she gives his hand a playful bite and you giggle.

“Good girl, Alpine, my best girl.” You praise her much to your boyfriend’s dismay at the two of you seemingly pairing up.

“You’re just a sore loser.” You roll your eyes at him then straighten up when Winnie appears in the frame, nerves shoot through your spine and you stand up. 

“H-hello Mrs. Barnes.” You give her a smile, laden with nerves. 

“Darling, you have to call me, Winnie. Hello to you too, I’m so glad we could do this also I apologise we couldn’t do this at a timing more suitable for you.” Winnie sits on the chair giving you the softest, kindest gaze you’d ever received. 

“Oh no, not at all, Bucky and I tend to switch around with our meals so it's not too bad, also it is just ten thirty. Not too late.” You reassure her and she seems to relax. 

“Now is my son treating you right? Or do I have to ban brownies permanently?” She gives him a curt glare and you laugh at Bucky’s look of utter panic. 

“Ma, why—,”

“Oh hush, Y/N continue.” She urges with a gesture of her palm. 

“He’s treating me in the best way, Mrs. Bar—Winnie, sorry, um, I, he’s so respectful and kind, understanding as well so loving. Honestly I can’t believe my stars I found my way to him. It is just surreal.” You admire Bucky and Winnie smiles. 

“No brownie ban then.” She pats his left shoulder. 

Your eyes nor demeanour change in the slightest and Winnie finds a weight on her heart lift, you saw her son as whole. Not incomplete. 

“Thank god for my manners.” Bucky says with a shake of his head, relieved. Then he laughs. You laugh as well.  

“Well Bucky here sings praises of you and I can see why, tell me then about you and your family?” Winnie smoothes her hands over her jeans. Bucky never spoke about what happened in detail over the dinner that took place with your family but she could see he was slightly worried about your father’s opinion. 

“What would you like to know?” You didn’t let your smile wavier, you knew the parent meeting at your house was less than ideal and given your dad caught Bucky watching you sleep. 

Technically he was working while you dozed off but your father seems to have not taken a liking to the man who held your heart better than what your dad had over the years of his parenting. 

Bucky sees the slight shift in your eyes, the rolling on your shoulders to not allow what haunted you to clamp down into your flesh and drag you into painful memories. 

You flicker your gaze to Bucky and his own blue eyes that harbour your world harbour the knowledge about your mind’s current thoughts. 

“How about where you grew up? Did you move around? We had too for quite some time till Bucky’s father passed away.” She says, giving you a second to refocus on the conversation. Bucky and you both notice the small twinge of nostalgia that grips her for a moment. 

“Oh um, no we never had to move, we’ve always been here at home though my great-great grandparents hailed from another state but since my grandfather the family has called this place nine hours and thirty minutes away from Bucky, home.” 

He takes his phone out to message you, Winnie gets distracted by the timer she had set for the dish she made for dinner. 

You smile at him as she excuses herself. Your eyes glazing over at his message. 

Bucky🌻:

i’m holding your hand under the table, giving it squeezes

Doll🌸: 

i’m squeezing your hand right back. 

You look up at him, he gives you one of his Doll smiles, named by Morgan. The ones only given for you, where his eyes crinkle at the sides and you feel it in your heart to erase everything that would ever cause that grin to fade. 

“I love you.” He mouths.

“I love you.” You mouth back. 

Bucky observes as the earlier tensions had left your body and now they had shifted into the drawing room while you chose to sit on the floor at the foot of your bed.

All three of your nursed desserts, tiramisu. Winnie had given Bucky the recipe so you could make it at home, your practice batch had turned out successful so this was your fifth attempt and it was really good.

Bucky was covering his face, cheeks tinged red. As Winnie told you the story of how he insisted on dressing up as a tellytubby for halloween when he was younger. She had to give him whipped cream mixed with food colouring to make the tubby custard because he hated actual custard.

What made things worse for Bucky was when she put on her reading glasses and managed to screen share a whole album of his images from childhood.

“How—you call me when the wifi router needs rebooting.” He seems taken aback but also proud.

“I asked Sam and Steve to teach me.” She grins smugly. 

“I’m going to kill them.” He mutters and you laugh.

“Honestly you make a cute tellytubby, the blue brought out your eyes.” You give him some praise but the next picture has you doubling over and Winnie joins in and Bucky just groans.

Greeting your screen is Bucky Barnes, aged ten, halfway out of the costume, just the blue pants on, his face, torso and arms all covered in the aforementioned tubby custard.

“The pink just wouldn’t fade.” Winnie says between laughs, you wipe a tear, baby Bucky looks absolutely taken by the sugar rush, a dazed but focused look on his features. You raise your phone to snap a picture but they all grow blur because you can’t stop laughing.

“Alright that is enough.” Bucky warns reaching over and stopping the screen share.

“Hey! I want to see my boyfriend as a baby.” You protest as the picture disappears and then pout at Bucky, who only rolls his eyes at your dramatic tendencies.

“I’ll email the folder to you.” Winnie assures with a wink then as she glances at the watch she straightens up, “Oh dear, I’m so sorry, darlings, I did say I would meet my friends from the book club at three. I’m so sorry I kept you up this long dear.” She looks apologetic and Bucky watches as you shake your head.

“Not at all, I had a lot of fun, it is an honour to get to know you.” You smile, she returns the smile.

“Bucky go fetch my purse and keys would you in my room, check the drawers and cupboard if things aren’t there.” Winnie urges him on and once he is out of ear shot, you gulp, this is it, this is the moment she tells you to leave her son alone.

“Y/N, I, you know, when Bucky told me about you, I was elated that finally he found someone. When he told me how many miles and oceans separated the two of you I had my concerns. I still do, over what has happened over dinner with your parents.” She gives you a knowing look.

“I wouldn’t ever hurt him. I love him.” You say, voice cracking slightly, you’re still sure her next words will be of disapproval.

“I know, I could see it in your eyes the minute I walked into the room.” She gives you a warm smile, “He’s never had anyone look at him like he handpicked the moon from the sky and gave it to them. Only we see him as a complete man. Today when I kept my hand on his shoulder, you didn’t flinch, make a face or have any negative emotion. You see him as whole don’t you?” She looks hopeful.

“Bucky, he, he completes me in a way that I don’t feel a hollowness in my being. I don’t know how anyone can think he is anything but more than complete, so full of love and live. Honestly? He did handpick the moon and give it to me. Everyday with him feels that way. Even on days that might be hard for either of us, he still handpicked the moon for me. He’s I believe he’s the love of my life. No one ” You confess wiping your face with the back of your hand.

“Oh, Y/N, if you were here I would give you a hug. I absolutely adore you, ever since you cause the light to return to his eyes.” Winnie wipes a tear herself.

“I could honestly use it. Mum and I are trying to make dad realise his opinion is wrong. I’m, I’m glad I can make him happy and feel loved.” You say, blinking at the tears. 

The whole ordeal had left a bitter taste in your mouth. You could only imagine how much more it affected Bucky. You had apologised profusely, he assured you each time that it was not job to apologise for the words of your father.

“Dear, convincing a parent is difficult, we had the same issue, it took my father a while but when the time came and George wanted to propose, my dad accepted him.” Winnie laughs at the memory then a dark look graces her features, it passes as quickly as it had arrived.

“I, I just want him to respect Bucky. He doesn’t deserve that, I told my dad off. I just wish I could undo that part of the night.” You admit and Winnie’s head turns to the staircase and Bucky sighs loudly, exasperated.

“How does your purse get lost in your own room, Ma?” He then chuckles and she shakes her head. You straighten up as well.

“Were you crying?” He asks her, you squeeze your eyes shut, his observation skills never failed him.

“No, just something went in my eye.” Winnie lies and you open your eyes just as Bucky graces the screen.

“Oh.” He looks at you and you shrug. He narrows his eyes. Deciding to table the discussion for later, he places you on the small cabinet in the doorway, as you both bid goodbye to his mom as she leaves for her plans.

You hold your breath, knowing he would ask or it would be something else. He walks upto his old room, placing you on the bed, next to his right side.

“Did Ma, say anything?” He looks at you sternly, you know he is watching every move, no longer Bucky but in his Sergeant roots. 

You let out the breath through your mouth slowly, contemplating.

“If you’re thinking of a lie, don’t.” He warns.

“I’m not, she’s worried about you.” You confess, you could give him bits and pieces.

“She didn’t say anything to you right?” His hard gaze waivers for a moment.

“No, she, she said she was happy when you told her about me, she said she adores me. She’s worried over what my father said… over dinner…” You let that statement hang in the air, a week after the Sharon fiasco was the dinner with your parents.

You mother had been nothing short of lovely, asking questions making sure he was comfortable. Shutting down her husband with a small tap on his arm in warning if he became insensitive. He could only be tapped so much. Your mom couldn’t face Bucky for days.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair. You gnaw at your bottom lip.

“I told you and her, I don’t care about what he said. The only opinion that matters is yours, Doll. he can hate me, call me bullshit things. He should not have insulted you. It would not have prompted my response.” Bucky’s voice beings to go towards anger, his blue eyes flash with suppressed range.

You stand, no longer wanting to sit on the floor, and sit back at your desk.

“Bucky—,”

“Y/N, no. I’ve been over this before. I told him he can fucking say all that he wants to me. When it comes to you I tolerate no fucking crap. He may have liberties as an emotionally abusive fuck but that ends. It is high time.” He glowers.

You bite your lip, this had been a back and forth point, ultimately a stalemate.

You were used to the shit your father said to you but you tolerated nothing against Bucky not even a whisper on an insult.

Bucky responded exactly the same, he could take all that your dad dumped on him and more, but he would be damned before he allowed anyone to insult you even if it was your dad.

You both needed each other. Anchors, saviour angels, lifelines whatever title was given isn’t enough to eloquently cover what the other meant. You needed to feel him, more than his words, more than his heated gaze. 

“Bucky,” You say again and he meets your eyes, his heart warming at the way the light reflects upon your irises. His anger slowly moves away. You move to your door, locking it then returning sauntering slowly towards him. 

His blue eyes, darken, breathing deeper he watches as your top comes off, followed by your jeans. You keep your eyes locked in on him as the straps of your bra slip down your shoulders and he stops you by raising his index finger.

“Show me.” He breathes, cock hardening as you turn and the now dimmed lights of your room illuminate your skin. Soft curves needing his touch, his lips, him. 

“Fucking gorgeous.” He praises and then you preen at the deep gravel, wanton timber of his voice.  

“Every curve, dip, line and mole. Fuck, Doll—,” He groans as you move your hands over your body, tracing over your bra, pinching at your hardened nipples, a whimper from your mouth goes straight to Bucky’s dick and he might just come untouched the way you gaze at him.

Your eyes darkened with lust, skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, he wants to lap at the bead of sweat that makes its way over your sternum. Bucky gulps when you take off your panties. The colour difference makes him groan, his own darkening as his precum stains his clothing.

“Need to see you.” You look at him settling onto your bed, legs spread. Bucky stands, ridding himself of all the confines that keep you from admiring him.

“Fucking gorgeous.” You praise and he smirks.

“Oh little one,” His voice sinfully deep, and these new headphones made him sound as if he was right next to you, whispering in your ear, “What am I going to do with you?” He questions, eyes raking over you.

“Anything you want.” You whisper and He needs to close his eyes to get a grip on himself. He traces your features again with his heated gaze, admiring how you become needier with just the way he gazes at you. 

Bucky wants to get on his knees and worship you, because that is the only way he can thank his luck for allowing you into his life.

“Touch your nipples, through your bra, did you wear the pretty lace all for me?” He raises an eyebrow. You mewl as the touch sends shivers to your clit, arousal dripping over your folds and Bucky licks his lips, humming as if he can taste you.

“I asked you something, little one.” He reminds, you nod.

“Words.” he commands, 

“Yes,” you hiss, twisting your nipple harder, “James.” You plead for more.

You hear his low growl, primal, watching you get wetter for him.

“Show me how wet I’ve made you.” He gestures with a nod of his head, your hand moves over your abdomen, touching the curves and dips, Bucky drinks the sight of you in, he held pride as you touched yourself, not your clit or your cunt, but when you touched your body, squeezing the flesh. It drove him wild, needy, helpless and he starved to do the same with his hand. Fell you, love you, touch you, fall apart inside you as you held him in.

“So fucking beautiful.” He praises as you gather your arousal and show him your glistening fingers.

“Want to fuck you with my tongue. Will you let me taste my pussy? You are so fucking sweet aren’t you? I wouldn’t leave from between your thighs for days. Have them tremble, shake, beg to close. But I would just keep devouring my pretty pussy.” 

You throw your head back nodding, Bucky only smirks, “Go on, touch yourself the way you like little one, but I want to watch each stroke, each circle, and when you begin to fuck yourself onto your fingers.” He begins to circle his thumb on his cock, hissing at the contact he finally allowed himself. Your hips begin to rut against your fingers at his words. 

“Yes, little one, just like that, imagine it is my cock, buried deep you can feel me everywhere, claiming you, marking you as mine.” Bucky pants, his hand moving over himself.

“Want to feel your cock, Bucky, want you to feel your pussy clench around your cock.” You mewl out, your hips grounding against your fingers you needed more.

“Fuck, little one, grab that firmer pillow, fold it.” He instructs, your walls clench at the loss. Bucky wants to swallow all those pretty little sounds against his lips. He watches you straddle the folded pillow, the fabric rubbing your clit so deliciously. 

Bucky moves the laptop onto the desk, you can see him sitting on the chair, cock being fisted by his hand, his vein prominent and you grow wetter at the thought of how it would feel in your mouth.

“See this little one?” He gestures to his cock, your clit twitches, “All because of you. Know why I made you switch?” He rakes his eyes over you and you want to just combust. 

“You want me to ride you.” You realise, slowly moving your hips in sync with his slow strokes to his cock.

“My little one, you think correctly, go on grind on that pillow, take off that bra, fingers on your nipples. While you ride me, I’d play with those gorgeous tits.”

Your stomach tugs at the combined sensations with his words, picturing it, his hand on your hip, setting the pace, his mouth on your chest. Biting, sucking, marking you as his, you moan as your orgasm builds,

Bucky’s hand moves in pace with your hips grinding down, your lips part, he knows your close.

“Will you cum with me little one?” Bucky requests, a groan of your name falls from his lips,

“Bucky, please—, need—, I” You beg, beg for something needing him to coax you to your orgasm, needing him to be the one that shatters you.

“Need you,” you choke out as the orgasm starts to build and his words get filthier. 

“Fuck, Y/N, just a little more, need my cock in you? I’d fill you up, till you cum around me, dripping all over my cock and your thighs, you want that don’t you?” 

Bucky and you moan in sync as the coil snaps, your orgasms shatter through you, both continuing the movements brokenly, watching the other fall apart with hooded eyes. Soft pants and watching Bucky’s cum coat his hand and abdomen you lick your lips.

“Want to taste you Bucky.” You say and he groans.

“Fuck, little one, you’re already needy for more?” He chuckles, cleaning himself.

You lay back against your pillows, hair sticking to your scalp. 

You look down at his cock that twitches at his own words.

“Fuck my mouth, Mr. Barnes.” You challenge, he huffs a laugh.

“If you’re insatiable now…” He trails off, knowing he is growing hard again at the sight of you, fucked out, hair messed, eyes bright.

“If you aren’t leaving from between my thighs, it’s because my legs are holding you in.” You grab the very pillow used, your confidence in showing him what you wanted, touching yourself had grown.

Your legs wrap around the pillow and Bucky does a double take of the sight. Fuck he can’t wait to taste you. He fists his cock. You smirk at him.

“Insatiable, little one.” He teases, you bite your lip, anticipation thrumming at his next words.

“Get on your knees, pillow under you. Better not cum before I say so, little one.” He instructs, voice deep, bliss, needy for you. You whimper doing as he asked. Bucky stands, giving you a glorious view of him, fuck you wanted to taste him.

You open your mouth for him to see, oh you would be the end of him. 

Both of you ruining anyone else for the other.

That evening, Bucky falls asleep at the dinner table. When he tells you how you had him spent, pride swells in your chest and his own. The two of you had come so far in this aspect of your relationship, being able to expose more and more of your skin and exploring all that worked for the two of you. Nicknames, types of touches, scenarios. 

All of it, all consuming, burning bright.

The day after you were having breakfast and Bucky a late dinner. You had resorted to being in your room when your dad was out and about the house, Bucky was trying to explain to you to not give him that power but you couldn’t even look at him without feeling bile in your throat.

You’re mid bite with your chosen meal of cereal and Bucky is in between explaining how yet again Brock’s mounting plate is falling off when he pauses looking behind you. Your brows furrow, anger ebbing at the prospect of your dad yet again intruding. You turn mouth set into a hard line.

But you don’t meet the eyes that watched you grow up. You look into blue ones, but they are dull, lacklustre. Not the azure your heart contentedly drowns in daily. 

You frown.

Then blink, wait,—

“You forgot me already?” The person says, your brain clicks.

“Who even—,” Bucky is cut off as the man pulls you into a hug. His hand tightens around his spoon. 

This guy better fucking stop his hand from moving any lower on your back.

“Quentin,” You tighten your shoulders, moving away, looking at Bucky who might just discover teleportation just to punch the smug guy whose hands do not leave your arm even when you step away, again.

“Y/N, you haven’t changed at all.” Quentin Beck muses.

You feel a shadow cast over your door. Bucky looks right at your dad, jaw set. Your dad crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“He better get his hands off of you.” Bucky growls and you shiver, moving away again and Quentin finally gets the hint, you move closer to the desk, trying to stay close to Bucky.

“The Becks are here to visit, I invited them to stay with us. Given how you and Quentin were joined at the hip, I think it would be nice to catch up.” Your dad gives a pleasant smile, but you don’t give any visible response.

Bucky’s nostrils flare, as Quentin ducks to wave at him.

“Who is this?” He questions an unabashed grin on his face, compared to Bucky’s scowl.

“My b—,”

“A charity case. You know her loves playing nurse.” Your dad says dismissively.

“Ah, yes, I was always patient.” Beck jokes and you feel venom pool your mouth, you swallow it down.

“He’s my boyfriend, James Barnes.” You say loud enough so Dad’s cheek twitches, a tell for his annoyance.

“Oh, hey man, I’m Quentin Beck, an old friend. Let’s catch up sometime over drinks?” He waves at Bucky.

You take off your headphones, Bucky breathes, once twice. Your dad watching and waiting for a reply.

“Im in New York City.” Your boyfriend looks to you, you’re on edge. Fuck he wanted to whisk you away from there. 

“Long distance?” Beck scoffs, “Hard shit man, how long before you both started LDR?” 

“We got together over long distance.” Bucky keeps his expression stoic. Understanding that this guy was someone who thrived getting under the skin of people.  

“Oh, well that is something.” Quentin looks to you, “Join in for breakfast?”

“She’s on a breakfast date with me, so you will have to excuse her.” Bucky buts in, close to seething. 

Quentin only smiles in response, something about it sets Bucky on edge as well. 

“Well then, I will catch you later, since I’m here for a while.” Quentin closes in on you again.

Bucky watches helplessly as you go rigid. 

“I’ve missed you little princess.” Quentin strokes your cheek, fanning Bucky’s anger then turns to leave behind your father. 

You close your door quietly. Refusing to look at Bucky because you’re at a loss of words. 

“I do not know what he did, but I am killing him.” Bucky’s jaw clenches and his knuckles are white with how hard his muscles are tensing. 

“Bucky, he, he was my first boyfriend. He broke everything in me before leaving.” Your voice cracks. 

Oh Bucky is livid now, “Your father knew?” 

You nod, he clicks his tongue. 

“Its on purpose.” He places forth his theory. 

“Buck, I hate Quentin. I’m not going to get back together with him even if he was the last person left on earth.” You look up at Bucky his gaze slowly growing warm again. 

“I don’t trust him.” Bucky states, neither man worthy of trust. Not one ounce of trust. 

“I don’t either.” You agree. 

“Come on, lets get back to breakfast/dinner. We’ll deal with that piece of shit later. One wrong move, Doll and I don’t care about anything, I will fuck that guy up.” Bucky’s words tug at you. 

“You won’t have to cause I won’t let him do anything.” You assure. 

“Even if not, that stunt he just pulled? Evading your personal space.” Bucky’s thumb bends the fork. Your eyes widen. 

“Bucky—,”

“Just, tell me something to distract me.” He requests, continuing to eat his spaghetti with the spoon he had gotten for dessert. 

You bite back an endearing grin, but he catches hints of it and his anger simmers into nothingness. 

“Found that cute did you?” He grins, shaking his head. 

“Absolutely. I find you very cute.” You praise and admire the red tinge on his cheeks. 

“I’m not cute, I’m—,”

“Hot? Sexy? Devilishly handsome? Sweet? My everything?” You offer, deepening the crimson over taking his skin. 

“Doll.” Is all he says but his smile tells you all you need to know, its the Doll Smile. 

“I love you, Bucky.” Your heart always warming at your words. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He says, causing your heart to somersault with his own. 

He reaches out, touching the screen with his thumb to stroke your cheek. You lean you head, as though you can feel him. 

Bucky finds his heart clench, he had to get to you beyond the confines of his laptop screen and city.

Dreaming about having you close was not enough. 

Dreaming about meeting you, laying beside you, having you play with his hair as his rested his head in your lap. 

It was never enough. 

A.N: hope everyone reading, enjoyed this chapter! let me know! also thank you for reading! this fic is honestly my comfort space and i really enjoy writing it so much so thank you for reading and interacting!! 💖

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[iensrobens]

A wrap-up for this blog for a hiatus

Just realised I posted 15 sets of drawings during the past 20 days. This is the craziest thing I ever did and such a relief of all my obsession with the game and Shadowheart since August. First time in my life creating fan content and picking up drawing again in 10 years was absolutely fun. (and of course learning to use these sns apps is also interesting, I know I sound like an ape first seeing human technology but I’m really ancient in this sense.)

I’m no artist and drawing isn’t even a hobby, just that I happen to have an iPad with Sketchbook installed.(and I only got to know how to rerank layers with it 2 pics ago so sorry for the quality for my first few drawings.) I just want to draw all the scenes I depicted in my head and very personal ideas towards the story as I tried writing and had to toss everything in trash can because I struggled making up comprehensive sentences.

I was quite anxious and felt so panicked that if my personal taste is weird and my drawings are bad (as you can tell, I don’t know how to do color) but I’m glad and surprised to see ppl like those. The numbers I’ve seen in my notification tab is far more large than the number of ppl I met in real life. (and it is very relieving to press on the blue dots.)

I really appreciate all your likes and comments and even followings-totally unprepared for this. I read every comments you made and those warms my heart and I jumped around the room when I see you got the references and hints I buried. (although I’m not sure what is the correct courtesy to reply your reposts and comments.)

I can’t recall if I ever obsessed with another character to the same extent like Shadowheart-the only one I actually started to do fan art by myself.

(As I mentioned I’m bad at writing so the next part may be very unorganised because my thoughts are flying in my mind.)

I played as her for my first playthrough. I had a quite traumatised experience for this-knew her background and past story, saved aylin but killed parents as I thought it is what THEY want, but I don’t know what HER wants; romance laezel as the dynamic was so intriguing and so good, saved her prince and let her fly away as I though she belongs to the sky and it was best for her-of course the one who becomes a squid is then Shadowheart-and I just straightaway stabbed myself at the dock. Everyone got their good ending except shad herself, and it was so grieving-all she wanted were actually all gone in that playthrough-family, lover and herself; past, present and no future. I just felt I did my girl so dirty.

Then with the customised character playthrough I actually get to know her more completely-with amazing voice acting, the interactions and all the hidden dialogues around the world-like the childhood memories dialogue which are a condition for letting her save her parents-I feel that is the preferable way as all the needed is done and she made her own decision. (But is the origin playthrough now added these narratives? I was thinking Allister Marley was Astarion’s real name.)And then the evil Durge route for her Shar path to see an alternative timeline, though I prefer the selunite route as the cycle has to end, we are better than this but that gives so many story telling ideas.

I tried to type something like character study but I can’t make it expressive enough even for myself to understand. I just hope then all I wanted to see and say is conveyed in the drawings. God knows I tried.

And thus I have exhausted all my ideas (and my annual leaves) for it. Now I have to remind myself to really focus on my real life work. Until next time my friends on Internet, perhaps I’ll pop up again when DLC or definitive edition drops.

[bettsfic]

Congratulations on finishing your novel!! Is there anything you can tell us about it at this point, or is it too early for that to be shared? No worries if that's the case. I hope we all get the chance to read it one day :)

i haven't talked about it a lot so i don't have a solid pitch or anything, but the main character is henry, an autistic underwriter with a deeply fucked up past. and he's in love with his coworker layla but trying very hard not to be.

he's also a recovering sex addict who uses bdsm for self-harm, and he has a daddy dom named thrash whose main kink is giving him everything he wants.

layla seems very sweet and normal, but she's even more obsessed with henry than he is with her. i wanted to make a character who believes they're a sociopath but who is actually not at all a sociopath.

but her older sister lacey is definitely a sociopath.

when layla finds out the horrific things that happened to henry in childhood, she plots to murder henry's father.

and she teams up with thrash to get it done.

henry's POV: hopeful coming of age story about a 30 year old whose growth was stymied by trauma but who comes to realize his life's purpose is art. layla's POV: true crime novel.

excerpt under the cut!

thrash's intro, cw for suicidal ideation, drug use, and questionable bdsm practices.

On his porch there are prayer flags and paper lanterns. Adirondack chairs flanking a glass table with a bronze ashtray, so clean it looks as though it has never been used. Mariachi music floods out from behind the door. I can walk away. I should walk away.

I knock. The music volume lowers and a moment later, he is opening the door, wearing a pair of board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt covered in Birds of Paradise, even though there is snow on the ground. 

He grins and opens his arms wide and welcoming. “King!” 

He gives the best hugs. Too long, too tight, but it’s a single moment during which you cannot fall apart, because Thrash is holding you together.

He pulls away, holds me by the shoulders, looks me up and down. “How long has it been? A year?”

“Nine months.”

He knocks my chin lightly with a knuckle. “Really, man. I’m glad to see you. I missed you.” 

I follow him inside. The house is enormous, intended to be one of those rich-people hideous stock houses, identical to all those around it and everything in shades of beige, but he has made it his own, art hung all over in a never-ending rotation as he buys new pieces. Ugliest shit anyone’s ever seen. Once, high, I told him he had bad taste. He laughed and said, “You don’t know fuck about art, man. Good art to you is probably the shit you’d hang in a dentist’s office.”

Maybe if he hadn’t said that, the tattoos wouldn’t be a thing. Maybe I only wanted to be beautiful for him. Something worth hanging.

The pieces have all rotated out since I’ve been here last, aside from the six-by-six abstract piece across from the front door, the first sight when you walk in. He’s always happy to talk about every piece he owns—where he got it and for how much, what he knows about the artist—but he never talks about that one. 

Over the past eight years I’ve known Thrash, I’ve spent a long time looking at it, no title or signature, an enormous canvas flecked with pastel oil paint, all thirty-six square feet of it, so covered you couldn’t see the canvas beneath. Pale pink, robin’s egg blue, butter yellow, mint green—colors that remind us of infants, of safety and smallness. Yet it's enormous, overwhelming, bigger than me.

Thrash is a generous man. He buys lavish gifts, throws insane parties, donates probably over six figures a year to arts organizations and scholarships. He once mentioned a wing of a university library dedicated to him. He never charges me for drugs. When I ask him for things, he says, “Your wish is my command.”

There is an allure, I think, in having the power to grant anyone their wildest, darkest wish.

He is cooking something and the house smells very good. I have not eaten since the Bavarian sandwich with spicy mustard and no cheese, sweet potato fries, and brownie sundae with no whipped cream (Layla ate two bites and I demolished the rest). I have also not had anything to drink since Layla shoved a Glacier Cherry Gatorade in my hand and told me to chug. 

In the kitchen, he stirs a huge pot of something on the stove and says, “I hope you’re hungry. I don’t want to have to freeze these leftovers.” He opens the fridge. “What’re you drinking? IPA? Lager? Wait, right, you’re a pilsner guy.”

He pulls out a bottle of pilsner and pops it open with the churchkey welded to his counter top. When he hands it over, he asks, “You feeling okay?” 

“Rough day.”

He slaps my shoulder. “Let me take all your troubles away, huh?”

*

I eat arroz con pollo on Thrash’s couch. He tells me about his trip to Mexico. When his bowl is empty, he sets it aside and takes two bumps of coke off the back of his hand, one for each nostril. I prefer him a little coked up. He is too nice to me when he’s not.

Thrash is fifty-three. His hair is still dark brown which makes me think he gets it dyed. Usually he has only a mustache but to fit with what seems to be his whole post-vacation vibe, his chin is covered in stubble. He is very tan.

I am attracted to him not just because he’s good at what he does, but because he’s totally free. Untethered from anything or anyone.

“Alright,” he says, lounging back on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table. “What are you looking for tonight?”

“The usual.”

“You haven’t been here in nine months. There’s no more usual.” 

“I want to go back to what we did in the beginning.”

His shapely eyebrows rise up his forehead. “Getting into dangerous territory, baby boy.”

When he calls me “baby boy,” I know I have said something he likes.

He reaches over and takes me by the chin, forces me to look at him. “I don’t want to hurt you. I mean I do but I don’t, you feel me?”

“You barely knew me back then.”

“I know, babe. But I’m older, I’m wiser, and I don’t have a liability form.”

“I trust you.”

Something flickers across his face, and for a moment he is not Thrash, but whoever he is on the outside, the actor of our ongoing scene. Then it fades and he grins, once more my personal Dionysus.

*

In the basement, I undress. I fold my clothes neatly and place them on the lid of a vinyl record player. Thrash is taking off his ridiculous shirt. He is really very tan.

“You been working out, man?” he asks. “You look good.”

“Thanks,” I say, wishing he would gag me already. Small talk is hard enough in real life; I don’t want to have to attempt it in a sex dungeon. I climb onto my favorite spanking bench, the one that is not too comfortable that I start to feel good, but not so uncomfortable it distracts me. I am irritated that Thrash has made me choose between being gagged or restrained—one, I can safeword but not move; the other, I can tap out but not speak. I fear he is conforming to the tyrannical writ of Safe, Sane, and Consensual, over my much-preferred Risk-Aware Consensual Kink.

I have opted for gagging. 

“How about this one?” he asks, grinning stupidly and holding up a leather paddle that says SLUT on it, backwards.

“No.”

“Yeesh. Such a traditionalist.” He paws through the drawer. “Come on, babe, help me narrow it down.”

I make a frustrated sound through my teeth. Around Thrash, I do not have to worry about my rotely memorized conversational schemas or the intricate performance of social mores. Under the mask, I am irritable, cruel, inconsiderate. I insult thoughtlessly. I express plainly my disinterest. My honesty is brutal. I am a mean person.

“Flogger it is, then. Old reliable.” Thrash points the handle of the flogger at me. “You’re lucky I accommodate your aversion to decision-making. You find a worse guy than me, you’ll be in real trouble.”

“Is there anyone worse than you?”

He whistles through his teeth and says, “So bratty today. But I love it when you flirt with me.” 

He circles the bench, assessing whatever it is he assesses. His hand is on my lower back. “You’re feeling some kind of way right now, huh?”

I close my eyes. The leather warms beneath my cheek. “You could say that.”

“I’ll be real hard on you, okay? Get you out of your head for a while.”

“Thank you.”

His hand is soft, the hand of a man who has never had to do manual labor besides hurting people for fun. He slides it up to my shoulder. I wish he would scratch it, but if he starts, I won’t want him to stop. “You get new ink? This looks fresh.”

“Yesterday. Don’t tell me what it is.”

“You don’t know what it is?”

“I never know. I just let the artist do her thing.”

“You’re saying—hold on. You’re telling me you didn’t choose a single one of these eight hundred tattoos you got?”

“Right.”

“You know I love you, baby boy, but you’re a real freak.” He takes the ball gag and says, “Alright, open up.”

*

When I first met Thrash, he didn’t know the meaning of aftercare. He did his thing, fucked me, and said, “See you next time.” Now it is non-negotiable. I get the full treatment: massage, praise, a glass of water and a snack. Nowadays I think Thrash likes aftercare more than the scene itself. It sickens me. He didn’t go as hard on me as I had hoped, didn’t fuck me or get me off, and as he guides me upstairs, heavy hand on the back of my neck, I can’t help but sense his concern at conflict with his distance. I hate when people step carefully around me. 

I am drunk on pain. I am swimming through an abyss. I am an animal, a body wandering.

He puts together a bunch of leftovers in an environmentally friendly Whole Foods tote bag. He has included coupons to a Mexican restaurant he insists is authentic, and a twenty-five dollar gas card he just had lying around. He is talking the whole time, but I can’t hear what he’s saying.

The blunt force cold upon stepping outside snaps me out of it. Thrash has followed me out in only his gaudy shirt and board shorts. He folds into a chair. Tugs a pack of Marlboro Golds out of his shirt pocket. Slips one out, lights it. 

I stop on the top step of his porch and turn back to him. The paper lanterns are lit up, along with white fairy lights around the trim. 

“If I asked you to, would you kill me?”

He leans back and exhales a cloud of both smoke and condensation. I am grateful he has neither laughed at me nor dismissed it as outlandish. Now that I think about it, he has never laughed at me.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Why you want to die.”

“Because I’m too hard to love.”

He gives me a long look while he takes a long drag. “Be hard to love, baby,” he says, tapping ash into the immaculate tray. “Make them fight for it.”

[aquabuggy]

I’d say please don’t re-post these images but honestly why would you. This thing sucks. 🧡

Walmart Santa Ball Game Or Whatever

Alright look. Look okay, I’ve seen a lot of water games. A lot! I own a lot too. I’ve seen the very best these games can possibly be as a result of toy designers transforming the basic concept of a water game and going ham with it. There’s some wonderful stuff out there and I hope I’ve been able to enlighten some of you to it! But my point is, one could easily assume I’ve been spoiled by these fantastic toys, and have lost appreciation for the lesser quality ones.

But it’s just not true! I love cheap water games! I love bootlegs and knockoffs and questionable design choices and poorly thought through ideas that result in a hilarious yet admittedly charming end product. They’re the bulk of my collection for good reason. They’re silly, and I like silly.

This toy though? This particular one? Is not charming, nor is it silly enough to allow me to forgive it. Let me explain.

This piece of shit sucks! Oh my god! It looks so simple right? How could this simple festive ball catching game go wrong? Well! I’m glad you asked!

Whoever designed and produced this toy, did not care! At all. At any point in the process.

Let’s go over it. First things first, this is very clearly a reskinned baseball themed game the toy company already had on hand. The backdrop is a simplistic Santa clip art they probably bought off Getty during an end of November sale for 60 cents in a value pack. Lazy start sure, but not unforgivable yet. Hey, you could even say it earns some silly points, having the placement of the mitt look like it’s bursting out of Santa, clearly not attached to his hand, and the suggestion that his cap has grown a sudden taste for violence, having sprouted hands and a bat to swing. These choices were most certainly not intentional however, so I am hesitant to reward them. That bat by the way, serves 0 function. It’s also a molded piece that is a separate part from the tank that’s glued in after the backdrop is placed. They could have left it out entirely, and they chose not to.

So the actual game right? The objective is to catch those colorful balls in the mitt right? That’s what you, understandably, would assume. But no! You can’t! It is physically impossible! At most, you can catch ONE ball in the mitt. One. I have played this game endlessly, and there is no amount of patience that will allow you to fit or stack any more than a single ball. That’s it. That’s the whole game. It takes seconds to complete, a single button press. THAT’S IT. I began to theorize at some point that maybe the goal was to pick a specific colored ball and attempt to catch it, until I realized I was definitely putting more thought into it than they ever did.

I received this toy unopened. This thing, tricked parents that likely looked fondly upon their childhood playing with water games, and took advantage of their want to pass that nostalgia on, and thus took up valuable space in some poor kids stocking. And even the kid must’ve known this thing was junk, never played with it, and it likely sat in their basement for years before someone found it again, judging by the residual mildew smell the packaging had. I bought this off of eBay for a total less than $10 after shipping and tax, and I STILL feel ripped off.

I can say with certainty that this is the very worst water game I own. I hate this thing. And I can’t even destroy it because I need to keep it as a testament to just how lazy toy companies can get with their holiday cash grabs. MERRY CHRISTMAS

[kfedup]

Feeling extra post-y today so how’s about a Sunday Seven

Can you tell I’m procrastinating? I have a content review meeting tomorrow and still need to write 3 more web pages, but every time I open the tab with the main copy doc, my brain unplugs. So. Much. Nope. 

One of the weird long Covid issues I’m dealing with is smelling what can only be described as wet campfire smoke. Some days it’s constant, even in my sleep. Today is one of those days. There is no campfire in the neighborhood. Only the one inside my sinus cavity, apparently. It’s so bad today that i have screamed into a pillow twice. It’s extra weird because my sense of taste and smell were not at all affected during infection. 

Last night I used DoorDash for the first time. I had a Venmo balance that came from cooking for a friend. Every time I delivered a meal to her she sent me $20. Felt like a form of poetry to turn that cash into a bon voyage meal for my brother. We got wonton soup, pad thai, chow mein, and steamed ginger-pork dumplings. Thank you, Reginald, for your speedy delivery. 

I watered my plants and told them all how grateful I am for the luscious green energy they bring to this gray winter. 

I loved seeing comments on my earlier post saying how special and magical Mendocino is - I wish my brother didn’t have to figure out that’s where he wants to live out the rest of his life by leaving there and spending so much money on a dead end situation here. But, I’m happy he was able to go back. He landed in SF about an hour ago and is on a bus to Santa Rosa where a Mendo friend will pick him up for the last leg of the ride. He has an amazing network of friends and chosen family out there. Has his old job lined up, a sublet studio cottage, and a loaner car for a few months. It’s going to be ok. I just hope he can start to get his hands back in clay on the regular again. We need to make our art. 

While I’m glad he’s gone for a lot of reasons, I’m already missing having family around. It’s been good to be able to talk through some of the unspoken stuff from our childhoods. He’s ten years younger than me, but that age difference shrinks radically once you hit your forties and fifties. I look forward to visiting him in the magical place he loves so much. 

Who wants to write this copy for me? 

[supernatural-hunter1]

“Let it snow” A perfect Christmas with Spinner🥰

(someone requested this but I’ve been busy with things🥺 that I completely forgot my inbox was open😨 so here you go😊)

It was about that time of year again when winter rolls around, You always loved the winter season thinking back during your childhood you would go sledding, building snowman, making snow angels, going ice-skating, And you would try to catch falling snowflakes with their tongue just to see how it tasted? (we’ve all done that before. Don’t lie and say you’ve never done that in your life 😂) But…. Your boyfriend on the other hand? Always hated this time of year, due to his reptilian based quirk and being cold blooded, he always hated the cold.

This was your first year of celebrating Christmas together since the two of you started dating, and since this will be your first Christmas together you wanted to do something special for him? You felt bad for him after he told you about the reason why he hated this time of year because of his past. And you’ve been planning for this day ever since, You decided to do your Christmas shopping early after work (because the boss at your day job told you to because they’re a jerk😒) and while Spinner was distracted by his villain work with the league you thought this would be the perfect time to get things done before Christmas? Sometime after you got your Christmas shopping and other errands done you went home to get things prepared.

As you were in the kitchen, you heard The front door open to your apartment as Spinner enters, closing the door behind him before taking his boots off. “Babe I’m home!” he shouted. As he dropped the rest of his things by the door, “i’m over here!” You replied, he walks over to the kitchen and the minute he sees you, he immediately wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind and kisses your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder, You couldn’t help but let out a little giggle. “so, how was work?” You asked him sweetly? before turning your head to gently pack the tip of his snout. “Stressful Shigaraki has working hard before the snowstorm hits, but I’m glad it’s we got the done early before hand.” he sighed, “so how was your day been hon?” he added before placing a kiss between your neck and shoulder blade.

“Well, my day has been somewhat pretty well, my boss had me work somebody else’s shift Because they’re out on a holiday vacation, but at least I got paid double time for that, and I also got some of my errands done.” You said, as you leaned your head against his. Placing a kiss on his cheek before stepping out of his embrace. “sounds like you had a harder than me?” he chuckled, something catches from the corner of his eye, and he looks over to the counter and sees Christmas themed cookie cutters, a big bowl, a roller, Food coloring, and the ingredients for whatever you were going to make, when he asked you about them? You told him that you wanted to make Christmas cookies but you wanted to wait until he got home so the two of you could make them together? He smiled at the thought. He goes over to the sink and washes his hands, and helps you finish with the cooking.

The two of you got started on mixing the ingredients to make the cookies, once you’re done mixing you took out the roller to roll out and stretch the dough, while he was mixing the food coloring with the frosting to make them more colorful, as you’re done rolling the dough he helped you cut out the shapes with the cookie cutters and put in each cookie in the pan before putting them in the oven. Once the cookies were done baking. You started decorating them, of course you can’t decorate the cookies without getting a little messy first right?😏 Spinner scoops up a little bit of the frosting with his finger and Called your name, and when you turned to look at him He boops you on the nose getting the frosting on the tip of it, “oh, you son of a- i’ll get you for that!” You laughed. 

You dipped your fingers in the flower and flicked it at him, and he starts laughing as well after a while, once the cookies were all decorated, and the two of you cleaned up, and ate dinner you both went into the living room to decorate the fake Christmas tree you got, as the snow was coming down and the storm slightly starts to pick up. After you were done decorating the tree, you went back into the kitchen to make some hot chocolate while Spinner flips through streaming channels to find some Christmas movies to watch, while the two of you sit on the couch, cuddling under some warm blankets as your snowed in due to the storm Outside.

But then, suddenly, the power goes out, spinner asked to if you had any candles around and you told him where they were. He grabs his phone and turns on the flashlight app before getting up from the couch and leaving the room to grab the candles in the matches, he plays the candles in each part of the room and lights them before going back to cuddling with you on the couch, once he sits back down beside you, you snuggled up against him sometime after a while the power comes back on in the two of you decided to go to bed, since it was already getting late after blowing out the candles, and cutting out the lights you both cuddled up in bed and fell asleep in each other‘s arms, the next morning it was Christmas day you yawn and stretched your arms out in your hand, reaches over to an empty spot next to you. You got up out of bed after realizing Spinner wasn’t there beside you, walking out of your bedroom down the hall, you made your way to the kitchen and see him making breakfast.

Looking out your window, you noticed that it was still snowing out, even if the storm let up a bit, “Morning love, hope you slept well last night?” his voice running through interrupting your thoughts and you nod, “The bed got cold when you weren’t there.” You murdered softly as you hugged him in nuzzled your face between his neck and his shoulder. “Sorry about that I was going to make you breakfast in bed but it’s taking a lot longer than I wanted it to?” he sighed, “but, merry Christmas though.” he added. You giggle, and kissed him on the cheek “merry Christmas to you too babe.” you said softly, after getting your coffee, you leave the kitchen to sit on the couch and the living room after Spinner was done with the cooking he grabs his mug and joins you on the couch, “oh hey, I got something for you? Wait right there.” You get up from your spot on the couch and walk over to the Christmas tree and a present with his name on it. Once you sat back on the couch, you handed it to him.

“go on open it.” You said with the glee. He sat his mug down on the coffee table in front of the couch, and he takes the present from you, he gently tears off the wrapping paper, revealing a katana, and his eyes go wide, “Baby, you got a new sword, b-but why?” He said concerningly, “remember I told you that my boss paid me double for working that extra shift? well… I used that to get you a new sword to replace the one that you broke when you were on one of your missions with the league a month ago.” You said softly as you reach over to take your hand and place it over his. You can see a little bit of glimmer in his eyes as a single tear start to develop “It’s beautiful thank you love, but… I’m sorry that I didn’t have time to get you anything yesterday so that’s why I wanted you make you breakfast in bed.” He said, as a frown appears on his face You reach out and cup side of his face and gently wipe away a tear and you lately smile at him shaking your head.

“No, sweetie it’s fine you didn’t have to get me anything. All I wanted was to make you happy, after everything you told me, after what you went through in your past I just wanted to make this day special for you. so it’s all right if he didn’t get me anything as long as you’re happy then I am happy.” You said as you press your forehead against his, he gently rubs the side of his face against your palm, before reaching his hand up and placing it over yours he turns his head to kiss the inside your wrist, “You know what y/n, a sword is nice and all, but YOU are the best gift that I have ever given in my life, and that is something that can never be replaced you are always kind to me, you always patched me up whenever I get hurt, you always believed in me, and stayed by my side to comfort me, showing me more love than anything in this world, and i love you for all of it thank you.” He whispers as he leans in pressing his lips to yours, for a soft passionate kiss.

You smiled as you pulled away “Merry Christmas Spinner I love you too.” You whispered, as you returned his kiss. 

(I hope you all enjoyed the story?😁)

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hey, 'The Taste of Temptation' request anonym here. You've exceeded my expectations, it was so good! Daniel's phrase about 'silly, little TikToks' gave me an idea for pt. 2. Since she got so popular between young racers and F1 fans, marketing team alongside Twister TikTok filmed a few other ones. They were meant to be released after Aus GP during the drivers' summer break. During the break Daniel is at the Red Bull factory, in a middle of car development. He sees the posted TikToks. 'Would you rather' with drivers, 'Truth or dare' etc. but questions and choices get spicy. E.g. 'Would you rather miss a race or be sprayed with champagne by Lando', 'Would you rather spend your break in a middle of nowhere or in Logan's childhood bedroom', 'Show your last text to Oscar', 'Call Lando and say that you need help with smth'. The answers trigger Daniel's possessiveness but he can't go and meet her, so he's practically raging more and more after each posted TikTok. Later pics taken by fans of the reader and the grid's flirt Gasly in Paris appear on social media. The fans start to speculate that they're dating cuz they're spending their break together in the city of love. Daniel finally snaps and takes a red-eye flight to Paris. But in reality, Gasly's just started dating the reader's friend and that's why they are together.

I don't want to bother you or anything. Whether to write or not is completely up to you.

I’m glad you liked it! I had already started part two when this came in but I have included some of these elements into it ☺️ part two is coming soon!

[cosmermaid]

Fuck it I’m going to talk about my feelings about the Little Mermaid remake. (Or what we know so far since it’s not out yet.) BTW heads up, I am a white woman. If you’re flat out tired of white opinions on this, I completely understand and there’s no harm done if you decide to keep scrolling. That said, I love, love love what I am seeing so far from Halle Bailey. If you don’t know, the original Little Mermaid movie is older than I am. Ariel was my idol pretty much from birth, and is an incredibly impactful and important character to me. The movie has pretty much defined my aesthetic tastes as well as my personal sense of style. I had the Tour of the Kingdom song playing during my wedding ceremony.

Ariel isn’t just important to me based on what she looks like however. Her determination to chase after the life she wants and loves despite the disapproval and rejection of her father is something that I’m sure a lot of us can relate to. Ariel is a commonly misunderstood character. I see her criticized from all angles that she threw her identity away for a man, that she’s shallow and doesn’t appreciate her family, that she is just a damsel in distress. And I’m pretty sure these braindead takes come from the same people that will pull some random red-haired actress and claim that she should have been cast as Ariel instead.

Congratulations on remembering nothing about the character besides her hair color. I hate most fan castings. A lot of them pick one superficial trait about a character and then they pick out an actor that either played a similar role or has that trait. It got us Emma Watson as Belle (because Belle and Hermoine Granger are totally the same character anyways, right?) and would probably have Tom Hiddleston as everything else if fans got their way. The horrible adaptation of Belle kind of hurt but Belle is not the most special icon from my childhood. Ariel is. And Ariel is a curious, passionate and loving character. Even before Eric enters the picture, Ariel has her interests and does not dial it back. She likes what she likes and wears her heart on her sleeve about it. It comes out in her smile, it comes out when she sings. And when I heard Halle Bailey was cast as Ariel the first thing I did was look her up. And I saw her singing.

She’s got it. Every quality I adore about Ariel is naturally shining through Halle like the sun through the ocean’s surface. Honestly I wouldn’t have cared if they kept her hair red or not, if they changed her tail, it doesn’t matter. (Not that they did the character design is almost identical.) Halle nailed it.

I’m glad that they cast based on Ariel’s spirit rather than what she looks like. I’d rather she be brought back as a breath of fresh air rather than something stale pulled out of the attic because they’re too scared to change anything. And as far as the race thing goes, I’ve always been drawn to feminine fantasy. Unicorns, princesses, mermaids, the whole shebang. It kills me out there to know that there’s young neurodivergent girls out there that want to embrace fantasy but are under the impression that it’s not for them because they’re black. I’d rather the door be opened for those kids so they can maybe dream of being a mermaid when they grow up. Or know that if they want to write a book about a black fantasy princess they’ll have an audience. (Or if they want to be an anthropologist since Ariel absolutely is one.) TL;DR Fuck yeah Ariel was my princess and I am thrilled that more people might have an opportunity to connect with and see themselves in her. And maybe take up mermaiding one day IDK.

(Photo is of Quintessence the Mermaid)

[here-lies-golden-kamuy]

any thoughts or headcanons on sofia, wilk and kiro, and what it was like for them to be on the run after killing the czar? i have sooo many ideas i would love to share abt this, and even a backstory i wrote for sofia. so many fics to write, so little time,,

Hey there, @interstellarshipwreck! Thank you for your ask, love! I apologize for the delay in my response, I had to research a bit on the three and really think of their dynamic together. I especially love this one because they’re characters that aren’t so popular (at least, on my side of the fandom), I’m thankful and glad to be given the chance to write about them! ALSO “so many fics to write, so little time…” IS SUCH A MOOD. HANDSHAKE EMOJI WITH YOU RIGHT NOW, MY GOOD FELLOW

I would absolutely love to hear about your own thoughts and backstory (OMG A BACKSTORY PLEASE FEED IT TO ME) about this!!!! I would love to hear more 🤲🥺

Sofia, Kiroranke, and Wilk Ten Year Runaways

Okay, I’m gonna lay my main card down already: I hc that Kiroranke loved both Wilk and Sofia. His love for Sofia is canon. But honestly, Kiroranke’s devotion and love for Wilk during their revolutionary days were so deep and intimate, I can’t see it as just plain old war buddies type of love. He loved that man, hence it hurt so much to see the Wilk he loved since his teenage years grow into someone he didn’t know and couldn’t relate to anymore in the end. It was like betrayal. Maybe one day I should write more about that. But yes, sometimes I think the manga was framing the trio as some sort of love triangle, and it was, but it was Kiroranke loving the both of them. I argue that in that aspect, he was their emotional core. 

I think Kiroranke and Wilk had moments together — Kiroranke, a teenage boy in love with someone older than him, desperately kissing an injured Wilk after the assassination. He would be embarrassed about it, ashamed of his actions, but Wilk said nothing but thanks for his concern. Kiro looking deep into shining blue eyes crinkled in mirth underneath a layer of blood, you fucking bet he realized right then and there he would follow this man wherever he goes. I feel like in those ten years, they had some kind of tension between them that wasn’t platonic in nature. Kiro would be passionate and show his adoration for the older man in actions rather than words — being loyal to his leader, following orders without any complaints. Wilk was calculated and cautious, hence he wasn’t verbally affectionate, but he’d always had his hand on Kiro’s shoulder in greeting or leaning into his bigger bulk when resting… there was definitely some quiet affection shared between the two of them. 

Asirpa in the early parts of the manga tells Sugimoto that a lot of women fell in love with Wilk because of his fine motor skills, especially when crafting something from his own hands. I hc that Sofia wasn’t any different. In my mind, there was a point during their runaway days where Sofia asked Wilk to teach her how to hunt, and Wilk crafted her a simple knife Ainu-style while telling her stories about his childhood to pass the time (maybe she heard about the story of child Wilk and the wolf during this time). She started to fall for the man who was passionate about his heritage and was willing to do anything for the people he loved. When it was finished, Wilk brought her along to a two-man hunt. She wasn’t successful at hunting, despite Wilk’s instructions, but Wilk — who had caught their dinner for that night — encouraged her by telling her that she can practice hunting with him and Kiroranke if she wanted to. 

Sofia can’t cook for shit, Kiro can manage, but Wilk was the master at their, er, makeshift kitchen. I can see Sofia being the Sugimoto to Kiroranke and Wilk’s Asirpa, wherein the boys would cook something that is “exotic” to Sofia’s tastes. Initially, she subconsciously balks at the ingredients and cooking processes, but then later reminds herself that her culture and their culture were equal — they both deserve the same respect and reverance. She ends up liking the mixed cuisines a lot. Also, Wilk who came from both Polish minorities and Ainu people probably did a lot of fusion dishes for fun. 

I can see Sofia to be their spymaster. Sofia is a pretty woman, knows French and Russian, and isn’t wanted by the police. Hence, she’s the least suspicious out of the three. I bet that she was really good at her job because she’s a great actress. I’m willing to bet she used her aristocratic knowledge to steal from a fellow nobleman during their runaway years. The reason why she started slipping when it came to Hasegawa was because for the first time in ten years, she felt at peace (this was primarily because of the close presence of Olga, Hasegawa’s child). I can even extrapolate that she enjoyed holding Olga close to her because she would daydream of her own child with Wilk. 

Wilk knew that both Kiroranke and Sofia loved him, but didn’t do anything about it. He also knew that Kiroranke was in love with Sofia, and made hints to Kiro that he knew, but he was passive when it came to emotions like that. Maybe he saw that maintaining the emotions and reciprocating even a tiny bit was beneficial for him as a leader. Although, I can see him being more partial to Kiroranke because of their shared goal.

Wilk has a great singing voice, I can see him as a baritone. Which means that his voice is well-suited for lullabies and humming. Sometimes when Wilk was on the watch for their group, he would hum songs from his childhood. Both Kiroranke and Sofia would pretend that they were already asleep to hear him quietly and gently string notes that would form soft lullabies about Ainu proverbs and stories. More often than not, they both fall asleep into deep slumber whenever they hear Wilk. It’s a soothing rumble, a very nice sound to let go of consciousness and clutch dreams.

[letterstotheflre]

my drug is my baby

summary: sirius is glad he was patient enough with you and takes part of what he has been craving most

warnings: daddy kink, a smidge of religious references, dacryphilia, overstimulation, fingering and oral sex (fem receiver), innocence/corruption kink

word count: 3.2k

a/n: i kinda hate this now but i think it’s because i read it too many times, idk || i think it's a universal experience to not being able to cum from your own fingers... right?? and we all know that sirius has a crying kink... also i think it’s so hot when they make you thank them for letting you cum, sue me!!

Sirius Black liked to believe he was a patient man when he needed to be.

He was known for being reckless, always jumping into the next adventure without much thought, ready to follow James wherever he went. Most of the time he spoke without thinking, especially if he knew his comments would make his parents red with rage. Sometimes he didn’t even mean what he said, he just spewed whatever progressive or controversial opinion he had in hopes of making his mother’s heart stop beating.

He revelled in making rash decisions, somehow always ending up being benefited by them. He never gave much thought to anything: always doing his homework last minute yet somehow still getting top marks, taking some jokes too far, never taking into consideration other people’s safety unless they were close friends.

Some may call him selfish, but he liked not having to put too much thought into every single action. He spent most of his childhood walking on eggshells, afraid of saying the wrong thing and being punished or worse, Regulus taking the beating for him. But now that he finally escaped the Black family, he enjoyed the freedom that came with leaving Grimmauld Place.

He enjoyed breaking rules and creating chaos. It made him feel mighty, knowing he had the power to make all of those choices, still coming out on top, and see how they affected certain people. Most applauded him, revered him for being so spontaneous and adventurous; others couldn’t stand him, complaining about his mean jabs and sometimes harmful pranks.

Yet he knew how to wait for the things he deemed important or worthy. He knew that it was best to wait for Euphemia’s cherry pie to cool down before eating it, to wait for three days after the full moon to make a werewolf joke to Remus, to wait a few hours after James lost a Quidditch match to suggest a quick trip to The Three Broomsticks. And he knew it was best to wait for you.

Good things come to those who wait, that was his mantra. Of course, most of his restraint when it came to you was because he cared deeply about you and your comfort, but his conscience also drove him to keep his hands to himself. Every time his hands were about to go under your skirt, every time he heard your breathy moans when he kissed your neck, every time you looked at him with pouty lips begging for a kiss and his fingers craved to squeeze your neck, he took a step back. He felt so guilty for tainting something that in his mind was so pure, so he just held you close and peppered your face with kisses until you giggled.

But the thought of you being so untouched and how bashful you looked when he teased you or someone made a sexual comment made him want to ruin your innocence. Something inside him craved to see you tainted, to have you writhing under him as he rolled his hips against yours while you clutched his shoulders. He wanted to take that holiness you had and turn it into something so sinful that there was no way for you to ask for redemption.

And when you opened the door and took the first step, who was he to deny you?

He dragged everything out. Since the day when he taught you how to touch yourself, he wanted to make you wait for every sexual act that followed. He wanted to see how long it would take for you to beg him for some relief.

So today during a lecture when you looked at him with glazed over eyes and begged him to help you relieve the strange ache you felt in your stomach since you woke, he decided to be benevolent and give you some relief. He swiftly moved his hand under your skirt (thanking God that most of your closet consisted of that particular piece of clothing and dresses) and pushed aside your underwear before his fingers made way between your dripping folds. He didn’t enter you, just played with your clit until you had to bite the back of your hand to muffle your moans.

But when you whispered a small “thank you, daddy” and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, the only thing he wanted to do was take you back to his room and press you to the bed until your legs shook and tears ran down your cheeks. His eyes quickly scanned the classroom to make sure no one saw or heard anything, shoulders tense because of your words. All he could see were students with their own glassy eyes as they listened to whatever the professor was talking about. Fucking tease, Sirius thought.

And now, as he watched you on your knees and clutching his leg, lips pouty and cheek nuzzling his jean covered thigh, he was thankful for being patient enough.

“Please, Sirius, they’re back,” you said. He knew exactly what you were talking about, but played dumb as one hand petted your hair. “What’s back, baby?”

“The tingles,” you explained.

“And you need me to fix it, hm?” A small taunt was evident in his tone. “Your hands aren’t enough anymore, right bunny?”

Your cheeks warmed up at the implication, nevertheless, you shook your head. You still managed to make yourself cum, but the way Sirius could play with your clit like an experienced musician and how his big hands moved your hips along his jean covered leg would never compare to your dainty digits. The thought of his big fingers inside of you was enough to increase the tingles, and your hands pressed down on your stomach trying to soothe the pain.

“Please, Sirius, it hurts so bad,” you whimpered.

“Use your words, angel. Be good,” he said. You looked up at him with watery eyes, your mind already slipping and not letting you form too many coherent thoughts. “Please, daddy,” you sniffled.

He kept petting your head. “What do you want, angel?” He asked, looking almost bored with the situation as he listened to your pleads. “Anything,” you whined.

He shook his head, mocking disappointment. “You know you have to ask for what you want, puppy.” Even though he wasn’t angry, honestly a little amused at your desperation, his voice was stern, trying to engrave his rules in your fuzzy brain.

Your hands squeezed his leg, “I need you… down there.”

“You need to be clearer.''

You closed your eyes. You hated being so crass, but Sirius certainly had no qualms about it. “I need you… in my pussy,” you got out. But it wasn’t enough, not for Sirius who longed to ruin every aspect of your innocence. “What do you want, baby? D’ya want my fingers or my tongue?”

“Both,” you whined. Bingo, he thought with a dark smirk that would’ve sent shivers down your spine if you weren’t absolutely drenching and desperate for his touch. “Up you get, puppy,” he said, “lay on the bed f’me.”

You got on the bed right next to him, your head laying on one of your fluffy pillows. Your dress rode up a bit with your movements, but it didn’t really matter, and you pressed your legs together trying to relieve some of the tension while you waited for Sirius to do something. He simply watched you, taking in the image of you wriggling in place and toying with the rings he bought you for your birthday.

You felt a soft touch on your calves, and it gave you a fluttering feeling in your stomach. Sirius’s hands were moving slowly up your legs, nudging them apart without needing much force since you complied immediately. You were about to burst, ready to scream at him to just get on with it, but decided to keep quiet.

One of his hands made its way to the edge of your dress, swiftly going under it and his fingers slightly grazing your clothed pussy. Your hips bucked at the soft touch, but then just as quickly as it came it was gone. “No, come back!” you implored, reaching for Sirius’s wrist but being too slow.

Sirius arched one eyebrow, “What was that?”

“I’m sorry!” you cried out, “M’sorry, I just need you so bad. It hurts.” But Sirius remained where he was, arms now crossed over his chest as he looked at you. His eyes were full of disappointment and you wanted to cry, “What’s gotten into you today? You were so demanding in class before, so bratty, I don’t think you deserve it at all.” He was stretching the truth, you were by far the least bratty person he had ever been with, but he couldn’t help himself when he saw how much his words affected you.

A few tears fell at his words, “No, no, m’not bratty. I’m a good girl, daddy. I promise I’ll be so so good, your best girl! I won’t ask for anything more, m’sorry.'' You were saying anything you could to convince him that you were still his good girl, his angel.

Your lips were quivering and your chest was heaving with sobs you tried to keep inside; babbling apologies and trying to convince him that you would never act like this again, and he finally took pity on you. His hands gripped your ankles and opened your legs so he could lay comfortably between them. He could see a dark patch on your lavender underwear, and he huffed out a laugh with a slightly amused shake of his head. “I forgive you, bunny, but you’ll have to take everything that I give you. D’you think you can do that f’me?”

You nodded eagerly, choking a small ‘thank you’ as you tried to control your breath. He grabbed the ends of your dress and bunched it up over your waist, not bothering to take it off. He licked a strip over your underwear and the combination of his warm tongue with the friction of the cotton cloth was enough to make you mewl.

Sirius could not deny that he had been craving to taste you once more after he licked your fingers clean that day, and now only getting a smidge of your taste from what seeped through your underwear drove him insane. He needed to taste you completely, so he quickly pulled them off and pocketed them in the back of his jeans.

He used his fingers to spread your folds wide open, staring hungrily at all the slick that had gathered. “Oh puppy, look at the mess you’ve already made,” he crooned. “Y’re dripping, d’ya really need me this bad?”

“Yes, so so bad. Please, daddy.” He was so close, his warm breath hitting your wet folds and making you tremble in anticipation.

You watched, using your elbows to raise yourself a little, as he slowly started to take his rings off. “Hold ‘em for me, bunny, don’t want them to get dirty,” he said as he slid his chunky rings into your fingers. The metal dangled a little because of the size difference, so you closed your hands to keep them from falling.

Finally, his tongue made contact with your clit and you sighed in relief. It was followed by a moan when he started to suck on it, making sure to swirl his tongue all around before slurping. He looked like a starved man that finally came into contact with some sweet fruit, moving his head around your pussy to have you gushing on him. The ache in your tummy was slowly decreasing, now replaced with a nice fluttering feeling.

Your whines and moans echoed through his ears, resembling the most beautiful angel choir he had ever heard. He pulled away for a moment, “I’ve been waiting to taste you for days, puppy. S’better than I remembered.”

The more he pushed his tongue inside you, the more your legs shook. You involuntarily closed them, your pillowy thighs acting as earmuffs around Sirius’s head. He let them rest there for a few seconds before pushing them open once more, adding more fervour to his movements, eager to drink your sweet ambrosia.

Your closed fists went to his head, and you opened them a little to grip his hair, trying to ground yourself. “Gonna cum, daddy, can I?” You breathed out. Sirius just hummed, sending vibrations that were enough to make you let go. You tried to close your legs once more, but his shoulders prevented you from doing so. You felt like you were floating, your brain shutting off for a few seconds before returning to earth.

But Sirius didn’t stop moving his tongue, one of his fingers circling your hole before entering you slowly. Just one of his fingers felt like two of yours, even though you knew it wasn’t an accurate comparison. The stretch this time burned more than when you touched yourself, and you whined while shaking your head. “Too much, s’too much.”

Sirius paused for a moment so he could press your legs to your chest with one hand while the other kept moving in and out of you. The sudden switch in position made you gasp, but not as much as when Sirius thrust his fingers hard. “Are you dumb? I told you you had to take everything I gave you. D’you want to make me mad again?”

More tears fell when he curled his fingers, expertly finding that spongy spot inside you that pumped white heat through your veins. The way they twisted resembled a musician fiddling with a harp, your needy whines accompanying them like the main act. “No no, I can take it” you gasped, drowning in bliss as his fingers kept hitting the perfect spots.

You were already so close, Sirius giving you no respite as he quickly pushed his fingers. Your hand gripped his arm, fingertips digging the ink-covered skin. “C-close,” you whined, eyes rolling back and mouth open as you felt the tension ready to break.

“Going to make more of a mess, angel?” he grumbled, and you tried to nod as much as you could in your constricted position. Sirius chuckled, “Dirty little thing. Go on, I’ve got you.”

You whimpered brokenly as he pulled another orgasm from you. It felt like his fingertips were scrapping your insides to drag it out, and your feet dangled in the air as you swung them while trying to grab his wrist to stop him from moving.

Sirius couldn’t tear his eyes from you, with your pretty tears dripping down your cheeks and your chest heaving with small sobs from how good you felt. For him, all for him and only ever for him, because no one had ever touched you like he has and no one else ever would. “You look so pretty like this,” he cooed. “God I love your tears, baby, look how hard you make me.”

Your eyes moved down his body—when had he taken off his shirt? His tattoos splayed over his toned muscles made you clench around his fingers. You adored the small drawings that covered most of his body, they looked so beautiful on him and you just wanted to cry even more at how pretty your boyfriend was. When your eyes moved lower, following his previous instruction, you could see there was already a bulge in his pants that you knew was his cock, and your mouth watered at the thought of it just resting against his stomach like it did the first time you sucked him.

“I wanna feel you,” you cried while stretching your hands to touch him. He let you, your soft palms going over his chest and grabbing his shoulders so you could pull him down. “Kissie,” you breathed, letting his lips hover over yours for a second before kissing you hard and messily. His tongue played with yours and it only added more fuel to the fire inside you.

A moan broke you apart when his fingers resumed their pace, “P-please, no more” you babbled, the stimulation too much to bear.

“How are you gonna take my cock if you can’t take my fingers, hm?” He asked and you whined, his fingers burying themselves up to his knuckles and making your eyes roll back once more. Your mouth was dry from being constantly open, whimpers and moans constantly escaping from the open cavity. “Come on, one more, I know you have it in you. My good girl aren’t you?”

The squelching sounds were so dirty and they rang through your ears,  yet even through your fuzzy mind you could discern the important words, “Y-your good girl,” you managed to get out with a smile, glad to be praised by him.

His other hand pressed down on your legs even more, and now you could see the way the digits moved in and out of you, a slight sheen coating the skin every time they came out. “God, you were right, bunny, you are tight,” he grunted, “I don’t think I’ll ever fit, m’gonna break you.”

At that, your eyes widened. “No no, you’ll fit, daddy!” But he just chuckled at your desperation, “M’gonna break you in half, angel. Do you want that? Do you want me to split you open?”

A small chant of ’yes’ and ‘please’ echoed through the room. You could feel another wave coming, ready to wash over you as your toes curled in anticipation. It was like you were dangling on the edge, your hands holding on for dear life as you tried to hold on, and your moans grew louder and louder with every thrust Sirius gave.

Your clenching walls around his digits were warning enough for him, and he kept his eyes on your form as you struggled to keep it at bay, waiting for his permission. He watched as your ring clad fingers scrambled to the sheets, gripping them tightly as your head moved from side to side. “That’s it, bunny, let go f’me” and with one harsh thrust, you slackened the hold you had on your release and finally let go.

If you felt like you were still on your body you would’ve screamed. A white heat engulfed you as your vision grew hazy, your hips raising of their own accord and aiding Sirius in dragging your orgasm out. You looked so beautiful like this, a sweaty sheen on your skin and now tangled up hair sticking to your forehead. Sirius leant down, tongue cleaning the fallen tears before they dried, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you.

He grabbed your face, squishing your spit covered cheeks. “What do you say, angel?”

With a shuddering breath, you looked into his stormy eyes as he cleaned your release from his fingers with his tongue. “Thank you, daddy.”

You tried to lower your legs, but Sirius kept them in place. You stared at him, confused, yet he was staring at your puffy cunt, all shiny and stretched out for him. A smirk covered his lips as he finally looked at you, “I think y’re finally ready for m’cock, angel.”

TAGLIST: @ildm4ev @capsmischief @dracosafety @dracoxgeorge @roonilwazlibswhore @lovelylupinx @sarcasmismyon1ydefence @marxy-06 @remusjlupinisdead @mattefic @artisancowbells @zzzfour @emmaev @gxtitobxby @sam-hollandsgirl —if you want to be tagged tap here

[xoxo-teddybear]

Boyfriend’s Best Friend - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader (ft. Kirishima)

Warnings: CRACK, Fluff, Cursing, Frisky moments

Summary: This was not how Bakugou wanted to spend his weekend. Trapped inside his best friend’s body?! Hell no. What makes it worse is that before he can tell you, you’ve already smothered Kirishima (who is in Katsuki’s body) with more than enough attention. Attention that belongs to the angry Pomeranian. And what does Kirishima think about all of this? Fuck nitroglycerin and boners.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

A/N: This shit is gonna get real confusing so KEEP UP and STAY FOCUSED

“Shit.”

After fighting off that petty thief on their way back to school, the two best friends took a look at each other after feeling a throb in their heads. But something wasn’t right. Bakugou was looking at..Bakugou and Kirishima was looking at...Kirishima???

“WHAT IS HAPPENING?!!” The red blonde headed boy asked. Kirishima made a face at his now very deep and gruff voice. He looked down and noticed his tan skin was the slightest bit paler and his clothes had changed. He turned his gaze towards the position where is best friend should be but only saw..well, himself.

“Argh, shut the hell up Shitty Hair. My head is pounding.” Bakugou said while holding onto his now red hair. He looked towards his friend to see a frantic look on his face. “Quit making me look like a bitch, Kirishima.”

“I can’t help it!! Not after what just happened!!” Kirishima said. Bakugou rolled his eyes and huffed before walking over to his friend and dragging him to a reflective window.

“We switched bodies you idiot. That damn thief must’ve hit us while we were distracted.” Bakugou took a look at his new body and cringed. Not that he thought Kirishima was ugly or anything, but he wanted to be in his own body. It just felt wrong having someone else’s dick.

“Well then we should get back to the dorms and find Mr. Aizawa. Maybe he can help.” Bakugou agreed and the boys started their journey back to the dormitory. As they walked, they took notice of a few things.

“Ugh. All these damn extras are staring at my hair.”

“My palms feel so sweaty.”

“Fuck! I keep biting my inner cheek. Stupid shark teeth.”

“Why the hell am I getting a random ass print?!”

“Nitroglycerin works like viagra Shitty Hair! Just fucking get used to it and learn how to control it!”

“I have your hair man! Does that mean you have shitty hair?”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!!”

“.....Is that..*sniff sniff*...caramel?”

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

—

“You’ll be back to normal in 2 weeks.” Aizawa bluntly said.

“2 WEEKS?!?” The boys screamed.

“Wha- HOW DO YOU KNOW?!” Bakugou screamed, trying to jump onto Aizawa with Kirishima holding him back. To anyone else, it would look like Bakugou holding Kirishima back. Oh how the tables have kinda turned.

“I know because officers have been trying to catch this thief for some time now. Even I’ve run into him on some occasions. His quirk is is called ‘Swapped.’ He takes your soul and spirit and places it in a different form...obviously. It doesn’t do much harm but it lasts for some time. Don’t worry though, you’ll be back to normal eventually.” Their teacher explained. “‘Till then, just tough it out for the next 2 weeks. Dismissed.”

The boys groaned and walked back to the common room floor. They walked in to find a few other classmates who thankfully didn’t seem too suspicious of anything. The boys went their separate ways, going to their own dorms to soothe their still aching heads.

—

Kirishima was the first to come out of his room. After contemplating whether he should take a shower or not, he chose the latter. He could survive the rest of the day without one, he’ll just worry about bathing later. Besides, he doesn’t mind smelling like a sweet treat for the next few hours and you know…not having to see and wash his best friend’s body and dick.

He walked down into the kitchen to find it empty. He was glad he wouldn’t have to explain his situation to anyone. If anyone saw Bakugou acting like the sweet bean that Kirishima is then I’m pretty sure a lot of people would have questions.

Looking around, he saw a batch of brownies left on a tray. He couldn’t help himself and went in to grab one. Unfortunately, he wasn’t aware of how chewy they were and after taking a few chomps, he realized the treat was as tough as glue. He couldn’t even open his mouth! And just to his luck, Bakugou’s girlfriend had walked in, seemingly back from her training session.

“Hi baby.” Y/N said. She went up to who she thought was her boyfriend and gave him a hug along with a peck on his cheek. “How was your day?”

Kirishima grew nervous. He didn’t know how to handle this situation. He would totally tell Y/N that it was actually him in her boyfriend’s body but the brownie sealed his mouth shut! He resorted to going with the flow and just nodding with a nervous smile. A very Bakugou smile.

“Tiring?” Y/N asked. Kirishima nodded his head. “Umm..okay. Well, same for me, but I still have enough energy for movie night, so I’ll see you in the common room. ‘Kay?”

Again, the now blonde nodded his head again. You smiled at him and went in to give him another hug. To your shock, you felt something poking you when you gave your boyfriend a hug. You looked down and noticed a pretty impressive print through his sweats and smirked. You looked up to your “boyfriend” and gave him a sly look. “You sure you’re tired Suki? Cuz your friend down here says you’re down for something else.”

Kirishima began to shake due to his nervousness now. He couldn’t help the damn boner! One, nitroglycerin is apparently 12x stronger than viagra, and two! He can’t relieve himself! Looking at and touching his best friend’s dick was wrong! And weird! Even if it was attached to him now!

What Kirishima wasn’t prepared for was you being so willing to help relieve his stiffy. On the bright side, he’d relive his hard on. On the not so bright side, he’d be fucking his best bro’s girl. Big no no. He definitely wasn’t prepared for your hand to travel down his torso and grab onto his Bakugou’s dick. “You still tired Suki?”

Kirishima couldn’t help himself. It felt too good to stop. He threw his head back and enjoyed the stimulation, even though he knew it was wrong. All he knew was that if he let this whole thing play through, he wouldn’t have to worry about walking around with a huge ass boner. A blush grew on his face as he moaned. He felt you peck at his neck a bit before stopping all your motions. The now blonde looked towards you in confusion and saw your laughter.

“Hehe, sorry Suki. Save it for later tonight, okay? I’ve gotta freshen up but I’ll see you later, Love.” You said before giving him a sweet peck and walking away. Once you were out of sight, Kirishima fanned his face to try and get rid of his blush. He then quickly ran to the fridge and chugged a few gulps of milk down to wash away the brownie.

“Fuck.” Was all that he said. Did that really just happen? Shit. Should he have let that happen? At this point he didn’t know. The man in him said HELL NO, but the nitroglycerin said otherwise. All Kirishima knew was that apparently he had a movie date to get to.

—

So now here we are, Y/N and Kirishima (in Bakugou’s body) all cuddled up on one of the common room couches during the late hours of the night, watching a movie. Kirishima thought Y/N looked really tempting in her booty shorts and tube top. The way her plush chest pressed up against his own as she watched the screen with a smile wasn’t aiding Kirishima’s mission to relieve his hard on.

Throughout the whole movie, Kirishima watched from time to time how Y/N would rub her legs together. It seemed she was growing some urges as well. Kirishima couldn’t shake his nerves..like...AT ALL.

Finally. It was almost the end of the movie. Kirishima had almost made it. All he had to do was finish the last 10 minutes and he could go..well honestly he didn’t know yet but he’ll figure it out later! Unfortunately, the universe had different plans. Kirishima watched as Y/N sat up to grab the remote and turn off the T.V. She placed the object down on the table and faced who she assumed to be her boyfriend. She wrapped her arms around his neck and went to straddle his groin.

“Uh-..Y/N?” Kirishima asked with a shaky voice as he gulped down a nerve. You smirked at him and leaned down to leave kisses all over his neck. Kirishima shook a bit and let out a shudder at your soft lips.

“Relax Suki. We won’t get caught. ‘Sides, when have you ever been afraid to fuck in public?” You said. You then went up to start off your session with a hot kiss to “Katsuki’s” lips. Kirishima had wide eyes as you took in his lips, but eventually, your sweet taste and bouncy lips made him succumb to your wishes.

He placed his hands on your waist as he kissed you back. When he opened his mouth you slid your tongue in as your hands entangled themselves in his hair. The kiss was fiery and passionate and eventually you and “Katsuki” both began to moan into the kiss. His hands traveled to your ass and gave in a firm grip which made you release a loud moan. Things were definitely heating up now.

—

When Katsuki came back to the dorms, he had already been exhausted by the entire situation. The only thing on his mind was getting some rest to ware off the headache, hours had passed and he eventually woke up in the middle of the night.

“Shit, how long have I been out?” He stretched and yawned a bit before he got up. The mirror hanging on his wall reminded him of his new body. “Oh, right. I’m in Shitty Hair’s body......gross.”

Bakugou felt his mouth become dry and so he planned to get a glass of water from the kitchen. As he walked down the halls, he couldn’t help but think about you. His precious girl. The love of his life who’s been with him since childhood and who he’s been dating since their second year in junior high. You were with him through it all and he couldn’t help but feel a little bad that he had to miss movie night.

‘Fuck, did I even tell Y/N I wouldn’t make it to movie night? Crap,’ he thought. Oh well, he’d just have to make up for it later. As he walked near the common rooms, his ears picked up a sound. And not just any sound, it was a moan. And he knew exactly who’s moan it was, for he had been the cause of those exact sounds and he’s heard them time and time again.

Bakugou ran to the common rooms to find his girlfriend and his body making out and slowly grinding on each other on the couch. He watched “his” hands travel to grope Y/N’s ass and bit his lip when he heard his girlfriend’s pleasured moans. He wasn’t gonna lie, the scene before him had turned him on, but what became a huge turnoff was the fact that Bakugou knew it wasn’t him in there and he knew exactly who was in his damn body!

“THE HELL?!” Bakugou screamed in Kirishima’s voice. He watched the two of you jump away from each other in shock and saw a look of fear flow through Kirishima’s his own eyes.

“Jeez, Kirishima. You scared us.” You said to your actual boyfriend without knowing it. Bakugou fumed at the fact that you were just making out and were probably about to fuck his best friend but he couldn’t blame you. You called him Kirishima so you must’ve not known about the switch.

“Can I talk to Bakugou real quick, L/N?” Bleh. Calling someone else by his name was weird and calling you by your family name was very uncomfortable.

“Umm..we’re kinda in the middle of something so maybe if you could jus-“

“Thanks.” He said and dragged “Bakugou” away behind a hallway corner. He pinned his body up against the wall and got in Kirishima’s face as he held the man by his collar. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING KISSING MY GIRLFRIEND?!”

“IM SORRY! I DIDN’T MEAN TO! SHE CAME ONTO ME!” Kirishima explained while being held against the wall.

“NO SHIT SHE CAME ONTO YOU! YOU’RE IN MY BODY! YOU’RE ME! I’M HER BOYFRIEND! SHE THOUGHT YOU WERE ME SHITTY HAIR!” Bakugou screamed. Kirishima just laughed nervously as Bakugou continued to fume. After venting, Bakugou finally dropped Kirishima back on his feet and pressed the bridge of his nose with 2 fingers. “Okay. Why THE FUCK did you not tell her about the quirk?”

“Because man! .....Your quirk has built in viagra!” Kirishima said in defeat as he threw his hands in the air due to the pent up frustration. “I’ve had a fucking stiffy ever since I got put in your body! So I thought-“

“You thought you could relieve yourself with my girl?!” Bakugou asked with big, angry eyes.

“.....Yes?”

“KIRISHIMA!”

“ALRIGHT!” Kirishima sighed. “Well what now?”

“We go out there and explain to her what happened so you don’t end up fucking her!” Bakugou explained as he tried to walk back to you but Kirishima pulled him back.

“Okay but what about my fucking boner?” The pent up boy asked.

“Just rub it out!” Bakugou exclaimed.

“No way! I’m not touching your dick!” Kirishima rebelled.

“Why not? I’m clean. And big! Just saying, I got a pretty dick dude.” Bakugou said with both hands up in defense.

“BAKUGOU!”

“Yeah, fair.” The ex blonde said. The boys thought about it for a bit before something hit Kirishima like a train.

“Wait..if you’re so okay with me seeing your dick..does that mean..you took a look at mine?!” He asked while shaking Bakugou’s his shoulders.

“What?! Gross! No! I was napping all day Shitty Hair so relax! And get your damn hands offa’ me!” Bakugou said while squirming out of Kirishima’s hold.

“Alright, fine whatever! Let’s just go out and explain to L/N.” Kirishima said.

“Good!”

“Good!”

“Goooooodd!” Bakugou said more dramatically. The two boys finally made it back to you and instead of your boyfriend’s body taking a seat next to you, it remained standing. Meanwhile, “Kirishima” took the seat “Katsuki” previously had. You looked towards the red head and then to your boyfriend in a confused tilt.

“Suki? Are you gonna sit?” You asked to “Bakugou.”

“I am.” “Kirishima” replied. You looked towards the muscular boy sitting next to you with a raised brow.

“What?” You questioned.

“Listen, L/N, we got something to tell you.” The actual Kirishima said. You looked to your “boyfriend” with almost a hurt look on your face as to why he was calling you by your family name. The real Bakugou took notice of your sad voice and softened his eyes at your now upset demeanor. “I’m actually Kirishima...”

Your face grew in surprise and then silence hit the room. The boys gazed your looks for a reaction but got nothing other than pure shock. You couldn’t even say anything other than “Eh?!”

“Yeaahhhh..I’m your actual boyfriend.” The red head said. You looked to Kirishima and inspected him closer.

“Uh..Suki?” You said while zooming in of his face.

“Tch. It’s me Teddy Bear, relax,” Bakugou said while looked away with a blushed face as he pushed your face away. You grumbled at his push and took his hand off.

“Yup. That’s you.” You said, relaxing. “So...you’re Katsuki..and you’re Kirishima?”

You watched the boys nod their heads and you were settling down until another thought came to mind. “Wait..so I was-..on the couch-...I thought-...”

“Yeah, you were making out with Shitty Hair but in my body..” Bakugou said with a hand behind his neck. Your face jumped in shock once more until it was replaced with anger. You watched as Kirishima’s new face became nervous and gave a shaky chuckle.

“Kirishima...” you seethed with slanted eyes before you attempted to jump onto the new blonde. Mid-jump, Bakugou grabbed onto your waist and pulled you back onto his lap. You fought against Katsuki’s hold on you but alas he was too strong.

“Nope! No, settle, settle.” Bakugou said with an iron grip on your waist. You finally calmed down until you took notice you were sitting in BASICALLY Kirishima’s lap. Feeling uncomfortable you scooted off your boyfriend and sat next to him. Bakugou looked at you with a confused expression that demanded an explanation.

“Heh..sorry um, Suki. But I’m not sitting on you or doing...anything else that’s lovey dovey until you’re back to your own body.” You explained.

“Wha- that’s not fair! You were all over here grinding on him just a few minutes ago!” Bakugou whined and pointed at his body.

“Because I didn’t know it wasn’t you!” Bakugou just grumbled and groaned at you. Your reasoning was fair but he just wanted his girlfriend.

“Okay, whatever. Be pouty. Just- When is this quirk gonna wear off?” You asked. Bakugou continued to pout with crossed arms but luckily Kirishima answered.

“2 weeks.” He said.

“Alright then!” You said while clapping your hands and standing up, gathering Katsuki’s attention. “For the next 2 weeks or until you go back to normal, Suki, no touching, no kisses, no overly-friendly hugs, no cuddles, no lap-sitting....”

Bakugou listened to you list all the things he couldn’t do. As you went on, his jaw dropped as he realized he wouldn’t be able to do all the things he usually does to you for the next 2 weeks. The list went on and on until you finished it with one final detail. “...and finally. No sex.”

“WHAT?!” Bakugou said while standing up now. “WHY?!”

“Katsuki. I’m not fucking my boyfriend’s best friend’s body. No offense Kiri,” you said to the other boy.

“None taken!” He said with his winning smile. Just less shark-toothy. Bakugou just mumbled about until you cut him off.

“Anyways! I’m going to bed. After this long and frankly awkward day, I think we all should.” You said and the boys agreed. You all walked to your respected dorms but when Bakugou tried following you into your dorm while he was still in Kirishima’s body, you stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“Uh, sorry Suki. You’ll be sleeping in your own dorm for the next 2 weeks. No sleeping together either.” You watched as Bakugou became much more agitated as he huffed. He grumbled as he reluctantly walked all the way to his own dorm room. You giggled as you watched the now red head walk away and shut your door. You couldn’t help but laugh as you laid down on your bed but 10 minutes passed and before you could fall asleep, a knock was at your door.

“Suki, I said we can’t sleep on my bed together.” You said once you opened the door, finding Kirishima’s body holding a pillow and blanket.

“I know it’s just- *sigh* look, if I can’t cuddle with you can I at least sleep on the ground and hold your hand?” He said, looking away with an embarrassed blush. “I know you said hand-holding isn’t allowed but you won’t be seeing me since I’ll be out of your sight and on the ground.”

You smiled at how clingy he was being. It was adorable and you just had to give in. “Fine, come in.”

Katsuki perked up with a small smile and happily followed you into the room. You got comfy on the bed while he set up his little pillow and blanket. You finally dropped your hand down so he could hold onto it and his warm hand held a strong grip on your own.

So now here you were, late at night, “cuddling” with your boyfriend. In a way. You smiled as you held onto his hand and couldn’t help but giggle when you felt his lips place a sweet kiss to your knuckles. Oh well, I guess there was nothing wrong with holding hands with your boyfriend’s best friend. As long as it’s your boyfriend who’s in his best friend’s body.

You couldn’t believe this was gonna be your life for the next 2 weeks.

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04