#please let me know if you don't want to be tagged

[shoyudon]

𝐈'𝐌 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 .ᐟ

them trying to make it up to you after forgetting your date.

starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader

heads up. cursing, not everyone has a happy ending :D

tags. @dreamsarenicer @deftearzi @ninikrumbs @litlebruh

note. this is a continuation from "DOESN'T MATTER, I LEFT!" make sure to check it out to make sense of everything!

──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

gojo is far from miserable — if there was a word to describe a state worse than miserable, that is what gojo is feeling right now. he didn't know what to do besides the countless messages and calls he's sent out to you.

he's tried knocking on your apartment door for days, but to no avail, you refused to see him. telling him to go back home and to leave you alone. hell, gojo's even took a few days off from work, spending his day off trying to get you to talk to him face-to-face about everything.

"y/n," gojo knocks on your door, his head leaning onto the hard wooden surface — even without looking, you could tell how tired he is. the stress from work, from his relationship, everything; just falling apart, "i know you're in there, i can hear the tv show running."

you scoffed, leaning back onto the couch. gojo sighs out, banging his head gently onto the door, grunting out, "can we please talk about this . . ? you can't shut me out forever," he spoke.

and before he knew it, the door swung open, there you were; standing right in front of him. if looks could kill, the strongest would be six feet under, "stop coming over, you're not welcomed here, satoru. we don't need to talk about anything, i made it clear that you weren't ready for a relation—"

"you won't even listen to what i have to say about it?" gojo cuts you off, his brows furrowed; the creases between his brows deepening.

"no, i won't. i don't have to, you're not ready and you know it," you tell him, hand on the door and a hand on the doorway, looking at him calmly, "listen, go home. stop coming over, and stop trying to text me from different numbers."

"i am ready. i'm sorry for leaving you there, please let me make it up to you— i can't do this y/n. i'm really sorry, i fucked up. i just—" he looks at you desperately, his cerulean blue eyes doing all the conversation. gojo's never felt so weak before until now.

"can we please just talk about this . . ? i'll make it up to you, i promise — i just . . . right now i'm — can i just —" he rambles on in panic, his fatigue catching up to him, arms flailing around.

furrowing your brows, you eyed him, "what are you— satoru, calm down."

he inhaled sharply, "i just . . . i know i've been so caught up in work. please let me make it up to you, i took a few days off, please? can we talk about this? i don't want to break up with you, you're all i have . . ." gojo choked out, inhaling sharply at the end of his sentence.

"satoru, i don't know, okay? you're busy — yes. saving the world, saving people, saving everyone. i love you, i really do—"

"why are you breaking up with me then . . ?" gojo whispers out softly, brows furrowed, his pupils looking everywhere in panic and discomfort, "why are you breaking up with me if you love me? i'll do better, i promise."

"just — do better. 'm not going to accept you right now, show me you can do better and we'll see." well, that was better than a straight up no, gojo nodded his head vigorously.

"okay, okay. that's good, i promise. i'll be better, i'll be better," he whispers, unconsciously clutching onto your hands.

──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

teaching sukuna to operate a phone might be one of the most regretful thing you did. waking up to more than forty missed calls and thirty voice mails wasn't the most exciting things in the world — especially with his voicemails being cursing contents because h didn't know if his previous voice mails went through or not.

"why is it that mortals use this rectangle— did my voice go through?" was almost in everything, a few voicemails containing questions like asking to meet up face to face to communicate about everything that had been going on; much to his disdain.

one to which you finally replied to after two days. figuring it was going to be better if you made it clear to him that you no longer wanted anything to do with him.

sitting on a coffee shop, you stared at him, "i'll say this one time, stop contacting me, i have nothing else i want to do with you in the future. so refrain from sending me more voicemails or missed calls," sukuna scoffs, looking into your eyes.

"you're leaving over three hours?" he snarkily commented, more aggressive than he wanted it to come out or intended, "did i not say that i would book another place? i was caught up in another matter."

if you could just pass out out of disbelief right now, you would. it was honestly a shame that sukuna had to make matters worst with his comments, "are you — look, i've listened enough. and i want nothing else to do with you right now, nor do i want anything to do with you in the future. so please, i am ending things between us right now. i deserve better than this, and you know it."

sukuna clenched his jaw, clearly furious with how everything is turning out to be. i mean; being the king of curses, he expects everything to go his way. and currently, it wasn't.

"take that back, you are not 'breaking up' with me," he mutters out in annoyance.

"sukuna, yes, i am breaking up with you." he narrowed his eyes when you called him 'sukuna' instead of 'ryo' like you always do. sukuna never liked it when people addressed him by 'ryo', but with you — he had grown so accustomed that it felt odd hearing the word 'sukuna' escape your throat.

"don't address me as such."

"it is your name, no?" he clenched his fists in annoyance, "i've said what i need to say. stop calling me and stop sending me useless voicemails, i won't change my mind. and i won't indulge in this relationship anymore. you think three hours is a short time? i made myself a fool in front of the whole place."

"did i not tell you that i had matters to attend to? you're being a bit childish, no?"

"if breaking up with you over disrespect is childish, consider me childish then," you told him and stood up, "goodbye."

──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

"i know you're in there, open the door," toji banged on your door just an hour after you ended both your relationship and the call, "woman, open this door before i break it in."

he sighs out loudly, looking around — he felt like a burglar, standing on your porch menacingly. toji knocks again, "so that's it? you're just going to throw away everything? not talk to me about it? i never agreed to breakin' up with you."

he stares at the door as it swung open just before his eyes, his eyes falling on your figure, "so, you're finally ready to talk about this?" he scoffs, crossing his arms, "listen, i forgot, i fucked up and y' definitely aren't happy."

"ha ha. no shit, toji. you waste my time and my efforts, all you can say is that you fucked up and that you'll make it up to me?" you tell him calmly, leaning on your door, "you think that's enough for the constant disappointment you made me feel? you fucked up? you'll make it up to me? you didn't even say sorry."

toji furrowed his brows, inhaling sharply, "what do you want me to do?"

"what do i want you to do is leave me alone, and let me break up with you, because i'm so tired of you constantly telling me you fucked up instead of you're sorry. which is a big difference and i'm actually making a big deal out of it. i don't deserve this, you know?"

he shakes his head, "no, don't do that breakin' up fuckery with me. i'll do anythin' to make it up to you."

"make it up to me by letting me break up with you, that's all i want. you're not ready for a serious and committed relationship, and i'm not going to be the scapegoat for your constant mishaps. i'm tired of having to lie to myself that you're trying your best to be a good boyfriend when you make mistakes like this over and over again. it's ridiculous, toji."

toji blinked his eyes, looking at you, "no. it's a mistake, i fuckin' promise you. it just went over me — i knew i was missing something, and i thought —"

"toji. i've talked to you about this same mistake countless of times, and it went over your head again? and again? 'm tired, okay. can you just leave me alone, we had what we had, we had our time, and well, nothing lasts forever. do better next time with someone else," you tell him, getting ready to shut the door.

but of course, he wasn't really going to take this closure from you, slipping in his foot to stop the door from completely shutting, "move your foot, toji," you sigh out.

"you can't just sum it up like this, i don't wanna break up," he sighs out, "i know i fucked up, again. can't you give me another chance or somethin'? i'll make it up to you."

"i gave you more chances than i should've. bye, toji," you pushed his foot away and shut the door, ending the conversation.

© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !

[sanatomis]

⋆౨ৎ˚ ──── 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐄.

it's been on your mind for a while now. and, even though he's a little confused at first, it takes satoru very little time to warm up to your enticing offer.

დ content. fr3e use kink, cursing, female!reader, fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, consensual somnophilia, deepthroating, cum-swallowing, mentions of satoru eating it from the back <3

დ notes. second attempt at posting this on tumblr, don't mind me. it's crossposted on ao3 bc my previous attempts at posting all failed miserably (it never showed in the tags ://)

Satoru is confused. It doesn’t take you much time to notice that your softly spoken words have him quite rattled, as the results of them can so clearly be observed on his face. There’s his nose that scrunches up cutely, and a little tilt of his head to the left which comes accompanied by a few snowy strands of hair shifting across his forehead. A small furrow of his brows, the soft gnawing on his bottom lip. He’s thinking about it; mulling over your offer. 

Three times, he tries to say something. His mouth opens once, twice, and it’s futile. Not a word escapes, and he takes a sharp intake of breath. You almost believe that, if you weren’t currently seated opposite him, he’d smack the side of his head a few times to make sure it’s still screwed on right. 

“So, I just. . .” The third time really is the charm, it seems. Though, he never quite manages to finish what he was going to say. 

“Just put it in, yeah.” 

You finish it for him, you’re sweet like that. It does really seem as if he could use the help.

“Wh—whenever I. . .” 

There’s a little voice in your head, chiming and chattering about how all of this is weird. It makes you nervous, and your fingers itch to play with your necklace to fight it. 

“Whenever you want,” you confirm. It’s as if your heart has suddenly moved to your throat. 

“Wha—what if you’re asleep?”

“I said whenever you want, didn’t I?” 

He almost lets out a little squeak at the words you so casually give him. They surprise him, as they do you. Your last sentence wasn’t one spoken by your mind, and you shift in your seat as if it’d shush the part of you that did. 

It’s as if you’re telling him what you’d eaten for breakfast this morning, not giving him permission to slip, bully and sheat his cock into your needy cunt at any given time of the day. Without needing to ask, too. Satoru can fill you up, stuff you full, and dump so much of his cum into you until you’re overflowing, and he can do it whenever he feels the need to—because he’s Satoru, and you love your Satoru.

“Are you sure?” He asks, a hint of apprehension laces his voice. Your heart almost swells at his concern, at his hesitancy and need to confirm your wishes; even if you’ve vocalised them so bluntly. “Maybe, think about it for a little long—” 

“I have,” you interrupt him. As gentlemanly as he’s being, there’s no mistaking the darkening of his eyes. The pretty, baby-blues making way for something sinister. You suddenly don’t feel so nervous anymore. “I have thought about it. Way too much, and for way too long.” 

A string of curse words tumble past his lips. They’re hushed, and quick, and from the way he, too, shifts in his seat you gather that he’s hard. Painfully so, if the bulge forming in his pants is anything to go by. Your relationship has existed long enough for you to know that drops of his pre-cum are staining the fabric of his boxers already—always so messy, your Satoru. The mere thought has you wanting to take him out, to put him in your mouth and lap at the sticky, white beads falling down his length. 

“Please,” you plead softly, and watch how he stifles a groan at the needy, saccharine sound of it. You want more, more of that sound. Right next to your ear, preferably. “Use me, Satoru.” 

There’s little you want more than that, little that arouses you more than that. The thought of Satoru taking you whenever he wishes, abiding by his whims and allowing him free-reign over your body—it instils a heat into your stomach, into your core. It makes you feel filthy, like a cheap whore picked up from the street; but you’d be his whore, and suddenly it all starts to feel like a dream. It’s Satoru. Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. He’ll be gentle, and he’ll be kind, and he’ll stop as soon as you utter your safeword, and he’ll love you so much, even if he fucks you as if he doesn’t. 

You have half a mind to ask him again, to plead, to beg for it again, as it almost feels as if he didn’t quite hear you. But, as soon as you open your mouth to do so, he immediately latches his lips onto yours. It’s messy, and sloppy, and entirely fueled by the frantic state his mind is currently in—but you don’t complain, and never will. 

His hands are everywhere and nowhere all at the same time, and you feel him almost buzzing with excitement. Your teeth clash against one another at the force of the kiss, your tongues greedily seek the other out, and saliva gets swapped from your mouth to his, and vice versa. It’s dirty, and sticky, and almost brings you back to your high-school years, when he’d been all clumsy hands and feigned confidence on the night you’d lost your virginity to each other. 

Satoru pulls back from your kiss first, and a small smile falls over his lips when he notices you chasing him. “Wait a minute, sweets,” he murmurs, forehead against yours. His breathing is heavy, as is yours, and you don’t want to wait a minute—you want him, now, tomorrow, and each day after that. “Are you. . .” He chuckles when you kiss him again, and again, and again. You only stop when he holds your head in place. “Are you completely sure about this?” 

You blink up at him, eyes wide and lips swollen. “Mhm,” you hum, and caress his cheekbone with one of your thumbs. Satoru melts in your hold, as he always seems to do. “‘S you, ‘Toru. I’m completely sure when it’s you.” 

He lets out a shaky breath. There’s a storm of emotion behind his eyes, but all of them point to the same conclusion—he loves you. So much, you might even get sick of it one day; he’d told you as a joke, one born out of fear. But you won’t. You never will. And you think he’s starting to realise it, finally. 

“Okay,” he whispers, and kisses your forehead. 

It’s delicate, and loving, and so opposite from the way he buries himself into you over, and over, and over again a mere five minutes after that. Satoru’s needy, and impatient, and so pent-up from your previous conversation that foreplay gets thrown out of the window. 

He bends you over the couch first, that cute little ass of yours jiggling right in front of his face as he mounts you from behind. He slips in easily, with a pussy as wet as yours, and a cock as leaky and hard as his—the lack of foreplay almost goes unnoticed. Almost, of course, as the sheer size of him never fails to elicit a hint of a burn as he stretches you out. Nevermind that you take his cock daily, or that your walls are bound to carry his shape after the many years you spend with him. 

The sounds that decorate your apartment are filthy, lewd, and borderline obscene, but you’re thoroughly obsessed with them. The slapping of his balls against your ass, the squelching with each passing thrust, the deep groans and choked whimpers Satoru releases next to your ear just like you wanted. Even your own moans, your own babbles, and your own whines add to the experience; the combination of sounds. And you love it, because it’s you, and it’s Satoru—and it’s the two of you together. 

It doesn’t end after Satoru cums, nor does it after you do. The agreement between the two of you that was made tonight seems to have done a number on him, and he takes you a second time. On the balcony, where he puts you on display for the world to see as he fills you over and over again. And a third time, in your shared bed that’s never been safe from his affection and blatant desire towards you. And a fourth time, in the shower that was initially meant to clean you up, he decides to dirty you even further. 

If this is the reaction he gives to the mere idea of using you whenever he pleases, you long for the time that he actually does.

It’s well past midnight when Satoru finally decides he’s done with you. You’re curled into his side, a shirt that’s way too large for you (but one that you swore you didn’t steal from him) covers your figure. You’re asleep. Tired, exhausted, and completely knocked out. He smiles. You’re so cute. A love-sick expression is stuck to his face, and it may very well become permanent if he stays looking at you. 

One of his fingers reaches in-between your thighs, gently scooping up the remnants of his release. Satoru almost coos at the way your nose scrunches up cutely when he starts to finger it back into your pussy. It allows his digits to slip easily through your folds, and she sucks them in as soon as he reaches your hole. His cum doesn’t leak out this time. Not yet, anyway, but even if it does, he’s more than willing to repeat the process. 

He sighs. Mind full of thoughts, but at least his balls are empty now. There’s a little huff escaping his lips, and he’s amused at his own comment. Satoru shakes his head, but the small smile remains nonetheless. Strong, yet gentle arms pull your body tighter against him. 

You’re delicate, and sweet, and so precious to him; and he will do his best to take care of you. Use me, use me, use me. He kisses your forehead, his own eyes falling shut. 

He will most certainly try to. 

The very first time Satoru entertains the idea of indulging in your offer, is on a day where you’ve decided to wear his favourite lipgloss. It’s so shiny, such a cute shade, and makes you look so beautiful, but above all—it’s sticky. It’s sticky, and easily smudged, and he knows from experience that everything feels so much filthier when he steals a kiss from you with it on. 

Without meaning to, thoughts of you wrapping those glossed lips around his dick, creating a mess made-up of spit, cum, tears, and thus that delightful stickiness from your lipgloss, enters his mind. The coloured shade will leave a perfect ring around his length, there’s no doubt in his mind. Your pretty face will be all dirty, smudged stains near the corners of your mouth courtesy of his fat cock. You will be a sight for sore eyes. 

You’re talking to him, but Satoru can’t seem to listen. He’s enamoured by your lips, your soft-looking, plumb, and very glossed lips. He briefly feels pathetic, knowing that a mere make-up item has the ability to make his head spin to such a degree—but he doesn’t, as he quickly realises it only does so because it’s you that’s wearing it. 

Fuck, he really wants to stuff his cock into your mouth. 

Five, six, almost seven seconds pass before the realisation kicks in. If he wants to put his cock in your mouth, then he can. Satoru’s body moves on its own before he gets a chance to think about his actions, as is often the case with him, and it's not long before his large hand finds its new home on the back of your head. He falters briefly, watching how you quiet down, how your eyes widen slightly, but continues as he’s doing when you make absolutely no move to stop him when he gently guides your head down, and down, and down—until you’re right where he wants you. 

A small gasp leaves your lips when he puts you on eye-level with his crotch. It’s quiet, and he almost didn’t hear it, but it makes him pause nonetheless. The hand on your head loosens its grip, and he hesitates as he looks down at you. 

“Is this oka—” 

The sentence never gets finished, forever interrupted by a sharp hiss as you take his cock out of his pants with such unabashed eagerness. It slaps against his abdomen, leaky tip staining the fabric of his shirt. Your previous conversation is all but forgotten, it seems, as you don’t waste a second in taking his hard, aching length almost entirely into your mouth. It all happens so quickly, and Satoru’s mind almost can’t keep up. All he did was think about filling your mouth, and now he’s actually doing it; the fat tip prodding near the back of your throat. 

His hands are shaky, he notices, and so is his breathing as a small whine escapes when one of your hands goes downwards to play with his balls. “Fuck!” he curses, caught by surprise at the boldness with which you reached for that part of him. In his startle, his hands return to the back of your head, and your words make their impromptu return to the very front of his mind. 

Use me. 

He will, then. 

Satoru isn’t at all gentle when he does. His fingers tangle into your hair, and he pushes you down onto his cock until your nose brushes against the soft, white hairs near his pelvis. Your poor little mouth is struggling, he can see, but he can’t seem to pay much mind to it; the sounds of you gagging around his thick length are too much of a pleasure to hear. The way he pushes you up-and-down nears the realm of brute force, and still you eagerly suck, and suck, and suck. 

A particularly loud groan echoes through the room when he steals a glance at your small form kneeling between his legs. It seems he knows you well; you are a sight for sore eyes like this. There are tears in your eyes, and some of them have already fallen down your hollowed cheeks; hollowed, to make space for him. Your mouth is filled to the brim with his cock, and even though he can see you fighting for breath, you never make an attempt at catching it—as if you wouldn’t dare to deprive him of the please your throat gives him. 

Satoru catches himself falling in love all over again. 

He fucks your face harder, and harder, and harder the closer he gets to the edge. Deep groans, and slurred curse words join your symphony of muffled moans, and his hold on your head slowly starts to falter. 

“‘M close, princess,” he mumbles, but that’s about all the warning he gives you. A few seconds later, he cums down your throat. He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t need to. Not because you’d given him permission to use you as he sees fit, but simply because he knows you’re utterly obsessed with him doing so. “Fuck, f—fuck, look a’you, hm? Gonna take all of it like a good girl? Don’t waste it, m’kay? S’all for, fuck, for you.” 

It’s something he’s done countless times before, but Satoru swears that each time he spills his cum down your throat feels better than the last. Thick, sticky ropes fill your mouth, and you hum around him when it keeps going, and going, and going. You’re struggling to take it all, and he huffs in amusement when bits of it start to drip down your chin. His thumb catches it, and he quickly places it back in your mouth, forcing you to open it wider to accommodate both the digit and his slowly softening cock. You happily do so. 

He pulls out of you shortly after, with his chest heaving as he recuperates. His entire focus is on you, you, and you as he watches you wipe your mouth and swallow the last of his seed. There’s a smile on your face. It’s kind, and gentle, and innocent; almost as if he hadn’t just fucked your mouth and dumped his release down your throat. Satoru is utterly bewitched as he watches you, captivated by all and every little thing you do, and he cooperates as you tuck him back into his pants. 

And then, as if nothing at all happened, you sit down next to him again—and you speak, you continue talking, finishing the story he’d interrupted with his need to be sucked off. Your voice is hoarse, and your cheeks are still stained with dried tears, but you pay neither of those facts any mind. It makes all of this look so. . . mundane. You were speaking, and then you were between his legs, and now you’re speaking again. 

Satoru’s heart starts to beat even faster for you. Fuck, that’s so hot. This time, he decides to try his very best to listen to your tale about some co-worker of yours that pissed you off this week. He pitches in every-now-and-then, adding a low ‘huh,’ or ‘mhm’ to keep you occupied, and he almost feels guilty—guilty, because all his adrenaline-filled mind can think about are the future possibilities of using you.

“And, wanna know what’s the worst thing about the situation? It was my idea to get donuts for everybody! That harlot didn’t even want them initially.” 

Satoru’s downward spiral is inevitable, and he finds himself falling victim to it more times than one would consider healthy in a mere seven days. He very quickly learns that he’s thoroughly obsessed with the notion that allows him to fill you up anywhere, and at any time. To him, it’s one of the highest honours. 

There’s such confidence, such unwavering faith encompassed in your view of him. There has to be, if you’re willing to allow him such a thing. Thinking about it almost causes a cute pink hue to colour his cheek. . .you really do trust him a lot, huh?

He’s never been able to tell you ‘no’ before, and he certainly isn’t about to start. So, he dutifully listens to you and abides by your delectable request. To satisfy you, of course. There’s absolutely no other reason for his actions, and the way he breaches your dripping cunt with his leaky tip, all while soft breaths leave your lips, and your pretty eyes are peacefully shut, is simply to indulge you. 

Use me. Use me. Use me. 

Satoru curses, the crude words that tumble past his lips being plenty colourful. One of his hands settles on your hip whilst the other hikes your (or rather his) shirt up to provide him with better access. It’s your fault, really, that he’s currently sporting one of the hardest boners of the century. You were waiting for him, weren’t you? Waiting for him to return and bury himself to the hilt in that sweet, sobbing pussy of yours. 

There’s no other reason for you to fall asleep with nothing but his shirt on. Not even panties covered your cute little cunt, your sticky folds fully on display and welcoming him home. Satoru wants to bury himself in it—in a multitude of ways if he’s being truly honest with himself. For now, though, he’ll stick to simply one. 

“Shh,” he coos into your ear, delicately rubbing soft circles into your upper thigh with his thumb. You whine faintly, feeling his cock fight its way past your walls. He splits you open, stretching you just wide enough to slip inside. Your nose scrunches up cutely, and he almost rouses you from your slumber.  “‘S me, really need you, baby.” 

And that’s all he has to say. It’s me. It’s your Satoru. A gentle whisper of those words, and he gets to use you as he pleases. All of his previous worries, all of the near-boiling anger he felt at his previous meeting with the higher-ups washes away as soon as he sinks himself balls-deep into your pussy. Satoru groans deeply at the feeling, and gentle, stuttered declarations of love are babbled into your ear with each slow drag of his cock along your walls. 

The garbled mesh of words that he deems too important not to say, even despite their poor enunciation, only ceases to exist a few minutes later—when he spills his heavy load into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. No, into that sweet cunt of his. Because, that’s who it truly belongs to, no? It’s his, to use, to spoil, to worship. You’d offered it to him so kindly, after all. And, well, Satoru has never been the type of person to turn down a gift. 

. . . You unknowingly create a monster. It seems that even the mere idea of being allowed to use you as he pleases has him tip-toeing around the line of borderline insanity. As each time he sees you, he wants you. . .and each time he wants you, you let him. 

It doesn’t matter what you’re doing at that moment. Even if you’re speaking, and he suddenly feels the need, no, the simple want for a blowjob. And even if you’re asleep, resting after what must have been a long day, you still allow him to slip his aching cock into you to satisfy the craving he’s had for hours. 

Even if you’re busy setting the table, you don’t push him away, and you still allow him to bend you over the wooden surface, to sink to his knees and lick, suck, and kiss around his pretty pussy with his tongue. Simply because he wants to do it, and you really do so, too. 

. . .And even now, when you’re cooking dinner. 

There’s a certain cuteness about the way your brows scrunch in concentration, about the way you gently bite on your bottom lip as you prepare the food for the two of you; it nearly makes him feel guilty for feeling the secret desire to ruin such a lovely, innocent view. The word nearly is important, however, as he’s acutely aware of your need for him to do exactly that—and so, any sense of wrongdoing melts away, similar to snow underneath the sun.

He’s not quite sure what it is that you’re cooking, but it smells delectable. There’s an array of spices, herbs, and vegetables strewn around the counter, and Satoru knows he’ll be eating like a King in a few minutes. As for right now, though, there’s a different craving, a different type of hunger slowly making its way forward. He fears it won’t be one that’ll be sated by your lovely culinary skills. 

“Smells good, baby,” he mumbles. It doesn’t take him long to settle himself behind you, large hands gently coming to rest on your hips. He sighs in the crook of your neck, and nudges the skin with his nose. “What’cha making?” 

You answer. He knows you do, as he feels the vibrations of your voice underneath his lips, the soft hum feeling quite soothing as he kisses along the column of your throat, but Satoru can’t find it in himself to focus on the words you give him. His ever-loose hands roam eagerly down your body, and the previous loving, and delicate kisses along your neck turn sloppy, wet, almost, as Satoru dips one of his hands underneath the waistband of your panties. There’s a grin forming on his lips, one entirely too big and full of confidence. 

“‘M startin’ to think you’re just always wet for me, pretty girl,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear, fingers entirely coated in your slick the second he’d sunk them into your dripping cunt. 

Your cheeks heat up, and you try to stifle a moan when he, so very, very slowly starts to move his fingers in-and-out of you. “I—I am,” you admit, and clench around his digits just as he’s about to take them out; as if it’s a last resort to keep them inside. “F’you, Satoru. Just for you.” 

“Hm?” He hums, and almost huffs in amusement as he sees you trying to continue what you were doing so desperately, as if you weren’t being fucked on your husband’s fingers. Just for that—he rapidly thrusts his fingers back into you, harsher, deeper, and so much quicker. “Just for me, yeah, princess?” 

“Y—Ah! Yes, yes,” you squeak, one of your hands seeking out some semblance of support from the kitchen counter.  “Only for you.” 

There’s an embarrassing sound hitting your ears, as each thrust of his absurdly long fingers is accompanied by your wetness squelching around them. You struggle to speak, to breathe almost, as he fucks you on his fingers. Satoru stretches you out, curling his fingers to find the spot he knows will leave you with those pretty tears falling down your cheeks, and to hit it over, and over, and over again. 

There’s such a heat gathered between your legs, such a pleasurable source of warmth, and Satoru suppresses a groan as he’s once again made very aware of that fact when your walls clench around his digits. His cock twitches, and he lets out a shaky sigh as he grinds it against your ass. “You are, aren’t you? Hm? C’mon, baby, don’t be shy. . .be a little louder.”

You aren’t shy. You haven’t been for a while now. There’s a certain hotness in the way you moan so unabashedly, so utterly shamelessly whenever Satoru gets his hands on you in such a way—it’s as if you can’t ever get enough of him. It never fails to harden his cock even more, to make his balls feel achingly heavy until he ultimately empties them inside your tight little cunt. And you know so, which is exactly why you do it. 

“‘M not,” you rasp out, one of your hands coming to rest on his wrist. The back of your head falls against his shoulder as you choke on a moan, seeking some very necessary aid to stay upright. “Please, I. . .’Toru, please.”

In all honesty, Satoru isn’t quite sure what you’re begging for. He knows it’s one of two options: either to cum on his fingers, or for him to push his thick cock inside your pussy already. There’s no desire to ask, however—he’d much rather make that decision himself. The hand that wasn’t currently burying three of its digits knuckle-deep into your pussy busies itself with his belt-buckle. 

There’s a pitiful whine falling from your lips, one that’s released immediately upon the removal of his fingers from your cunt. “Shh,” he coos in your ear, instantly soothing your upcoming tantrum. You stifle the complaint you’d prepared for him, the feeling of his fat tip prodding near your too-eager hole quickly puts an end to it. “S’okay, pretty girl, just wanna feel you cum around my cock, s’all. . .Think you can do that for me?” 

You nod, and rapidly so. “Mhm,” you hum, and open your mouth when he presents it with his soiled fingers. You clean them, suckling around them until each bit of your sweetness is gone. “Want to—really wanna cum around your cock, ‘Toru.”

“Of course, you do,” he breathes, and captures a quick kiss. And another. And another. And one more. It makes you smile, and that, in turn, makes him smile. When he does pull back, there’s as much love as there is lust dancing in his eyes. “Wouldn’t have expected anything less of you, princess.”

Satoru is often greedy. There’s no such thing as savouring something with him—if he’s enjoying himself, he’ll be as gluttonous as he wishes. The exception is you, of course, as you always are to him. There’s no greater feeling than savouring you. It’s why he, more often than not, decides to fill you up slowly. To let his cock drag along your walls, to let your soothing warmth engulf him inch, by inch, by inch, until his firm balls press up against your ass. He does so this time, too. 

Your long, drawn-out moan as he fills you up slowly sounds as if it were gifted to him by the Heavens, and Satoru’s cock twitches inside when he hears you mutter a soft fuck as you struggle to adjust to him. It’s certainly not the first time you’ve taken his cock, but the sheer girth of him still stretches you out—as it always does. Your husband loves you dearly, however, and waits. . .one second, two seconds, three seconds, and he doesn’t get any further before his self-restraint falters. 

Satoru nearly pulls himself out of your cunt completely, only for him to fuck himself back inside so deeply—it has you place both palms of your hands on the counter to steady yourself. It startles you, as he hears you choke on a moan, but he continues. His movements are quick and rough, animalistic even, as he pounds into your cunt. 

“Sa—ngh, Satoru, wait, I. . .” You interrupt yourself with a moan, the feeling of his tip near your cervix too sharp for you to properly finish a sentence. He’s so deep. It feels as if he’s in your womb, in your stomach—it feels as if he’s everywhere. “Fuck, I. . .f—fuck, ‘Toru. . .”

 “Hm?” He breathes out, a groan slipping past his lips. “Want me to, fuck, you. . .” His rapid movements dial down. The self-control needed for it is enormous, but you’d asked him to wait—so he will. Some beads of pre-cum drip into your cunt, as if his cock was upset that he’d suddenly slowed down. “Wan’me to go slower, baby?”

“No,” There’s a small whine near the end of your sentence. It’s the absolute last thing you wanted him to do, even if you originally asked him to wait. “No, don’t, please, keep going. Need—need more.” You feel Satoru wrap both hands around your hips, as if he’s preparing for something. “Harder, please. . .”

“Harder?” He asks, and you don’t need to see him to know there’s currently a sense of smugness ruining his pretty face.  “How hard do you want it, huh, sweets?” 

Little more than the tip remains inside you, and there’s not a moment for you to mourn the loss of his entire girth—as all air leaves your lungs when he immediately thrusts back into you with a newfound vigour, with such force that it has you bend over the kitchen counter. 

“Like, ah, like this, huh? That how you want it, angel?”

You don’t answer—you’re not able to, as Satoru uses the entirety of his thick length to steal your ability to speak coherently. Once again, you’re acutely aware of the sheer size of your husband. Satoru is tall, and big, and he likely isn’t even aware of it. It certainly doesn’t seem so, as he heads no mind to the way your feet are starting to lift off the floor. Each deep thrust has you inching further up the counter; his hands on your hips nearly holding you up and off the floor as he rocks into you from behind. 

There’s little you can do, except take it. 

The kitchen is filled with sounds that definitely do not belong there. Your wetness is prominent, the sound of it borderline embarrassing, and Satoru’s balls slap against your skin with each thrust. He’s relentless, and you want to cry. The good kind of crying; the kind that often comes accompanied with mind-numbing pleasure. You hiccup, and sniff, and try your best to stabilise yourself against the counter. 

Though, your efforts prove futile once Satoru brings one of his hands to your front. You choke on a whimper as he cruelly pinches your clit, toying with it, flicking and rubbing it in the way he knows will get you off. 

“T—Toru,” you warn him. “I—I’m. . .”

“Mhm,” he hums in acknowledgement, not letting up even for a second. There’s a featherlight kiss pressed to your shoulder. “Me too, princess. S’okay, let, shit, let go for me, yeah?”

And because he’s Satoru—your Satoru, you comply. It hits you all at once, and you’re suddenly very grateful for both your husband holding you upright, and your expensive kitchen counter for adding some extra support. You’re still breathing heavily, coming down from your high, when Satoru hits his own. It’s a familiar feeling, but one you’ll never grow tired of nonetheless. 

You sigh in content. His cum fills you up rapidly, and to the brim. It’s hot, and thick, and trickles out of you even with him still inside—simply because there’s so much of it. The both of you are out of breath, and because of it, choose to stay within each other’s hold for just a little while longer. 

Satoru could—and would—stay in this position for the rest of his life. . .but he’s quite sure that you’ve put a lot of effort in today’s dinner and he doesn’t want it to be for naught. With a deep sigh and a quick kiss to your cheek, he goes against every fibre of his being, and pulls out of you. 

A shiver trails down your spine when he does so, and you let out a soft sigh in content. You’re still recovering, he notices. There’s a trail of his cum dripping out of you, though he wastes little time to push it back inside. Satoru takes matters into his own hands, and decides to place your panties back into place for you, too. It gets soiled by his seed rather quickly, but that’s a problem for later. 

After smoothing down your skirt, he tucks himself back into his pants, as well. He’s by your side as quick as he can, and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your temple. 

It’s only then that he properly takes notice of all the stuff that’s been thrown around the kitchen. Pots, pans, vegetables, spices. It seems you really were busy.

And, as if he hadn’t just finished fucking you silly, he smiles. 

“So, what are you making?”

© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.

[mrsparrasblog]

I just listened to "My Tears Ricochet" and had an idea.

TW: Angst *laughs in free therapy*

So, imagine the boys need to fake their deaths. How macabre it is that they attend their own funerals, wanting to watch their loved ones. (These are standalone scenarios they don't fake their death together)

Price: You were his wife for all these years, always waiting for him to return. The funny thing was you could clearly remember the last argument before he left.

"Love, just one more tour, and I'm coming back to you. Then we can start a family and all that, but the boys need me."

"It's always the last tour with you. When is it really the last?"

"This time, I promise."

To some extent, he was right. You thought it was his last tour, but it wasn’t fair. You knew it was over when you got the call from General Shepard. Your husband was dead. You lost the love of your life, and all you got were his dog tags and a check large enough to end world hunger. You slapped your friend after she said at least you were financially secure now.

Price watched you from behind a tree. He saw how you clung to his grave, hugging it tightly and lying on it as you always used to with him. Your dress was dirty, and the tears wouldn’t come anymore.

When Laswell and Nik approached you, you screamed at them, blaming them for not protecting your husband. You trusted them, and now you couldn't bear to let anyone else near his grave. John wished he could comfort you, tell you he would come back to protect you, but he couldn’t. Instead, he sent Simon, who endured all your insults, screams, and even a punch to his crooked nose until you were ready to move on.

Kyle: You and Kyle were born on the same day, in the same room, in the same hospital. It was like a movie; he was your best friend since forever, your first everything, and you were his. It was a love like in all those movies. The only thing separating you was the military, but you stayed home waiting for him. Not even war could separate you. Last year, he brought you that ring. You remember lying in bed, cuddling him as he promised you that you were allowed to die first. He knew you wouldn’t survive his death. So he made the silly promise that you would die first. He thought it was the first promise he ever broke to you.

Kyle had to be held back when he saw you crying at his grave. “Guess I’ll find you in the next one, love. Sleep well.”

Ghost: He was never good at love, and he was sure no one would come to his funeral. No one knew "Ghost," and Simon Riley had been buried since 2009. But then he saw you, the cute medic he always tried to push away. He was afraid of hurting you or corrupting you. How could he have known that pushing you away wouldn’t stop you from loving a dead man?

All the conversations came flooding back:

"Here, Lt. I made you red velvet cookies, your favorite."

"You're going to sit down and let me fix that, idiot."

"You're beautiful, Ghost."

"You're enough."

"It's kind of silly to be in love with someone whose name you didn’t even know. I hope you find your peace, big boy." You placed lilies on his grave and left. In that moment, Simon Riley realized he was loved, and he would burn the world down to come back from the dead just to return to you.

Johnny: Contrary to popular belief among the team, Johnny wasn’t a whore. He was a loving husband and father. That was written above "Sergeant" on his grave, at least.

His funeral was crowded with people who wanted to pay their last respects. Most of them were blue-eyed MacTavishes. Then there was you, holding your three-year-old in your arms. He didn’t understand why everyone was crying or why Dad wasn’t there anymore.

Johnny watched you sit at his grave, sighing as you talked to your husband. "James doesn’t understand what’s going on, but he misses you. He wanted me to give him a mohawk. It looks ridiculous, just like you. I know you’re rocking it in heaven. Just please wait for me, okay? Don’t want you to hoe around in heaven," you chuckled, holding back the tears. "You watch us from there, right? Can’t miss the birth of your princess, can you?"

[dollfacefantasy]

second thoughts ♡

toji fushiguro x fem!reader

your ex keeps popping into your head during sex with toji, so he'll just have to make sure you can't think at all instead

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, size kink, dumbification, mentions of intrusive thoughts

tags: @gor3-hound @nexysworld

"Right here," he growls, "Look right here. Right in my fuckin' eyes."

His large hand held your head in place by your jaw. He gives it a sharp jerk, jostling your thoughts into place. Making sure you're completely focused on him. His lower half thrusts against you hard and fast, stretching you out with each rock of his hips.

"'m lookin'" you whine, your lips parting as little mewls fly out.

"Good. Good girl," he grunts.

The muscles in his abdomen flex as he keeps pounding into you. He wasn't taking it easy on you tonight. He was determine to make sure you couldn't think of anything but him.

The past couple of weeks things had been off between you two. Since you started dating, your relationship had always been very physical. You had sex once a day at minimum, and when he wasn't inside of you, he had a hand somewhere on your body. He may have struggled with true intimacy, but physicality came easy.

The problem he'd noticed recently was you didn't seem as into it as you usually were. You seemed kind of spaced out. You got pretty quiet when you were typically vocal.

His first reaction was insecurity. Was he not pleasing you? Were growing bored of him? The possibility of that unnerved him to his core, but he tried to convince himself those couldn't be true. You never denied him when he initiated, and you still loved to cuddle and hang off his arm whenever you could.

After another round of you looking distracted while he was balls deep, he finally just had to ask.

"Sorry..." you'd said, looking up at him sheepishly, "I just... I'm having trouble focusing."

Your tone almost made him feel guilty for asking, but your reasoning didn't answer all his questions. He knew you had trouble with concentration and intrusive thoughts sometimes. He just didn't think it would apply to this.

"Focusing?" he murmured, ducking down to plant some kisses on your cheek, "Am I not doing it right, baby? You know... I'm open to pointers."

"No... it's not that. It's just..." you continue. You hesitate as to whether or not you should actually tell him.

"C'mon, angel face," he said, nuzzling your jaw, "You know you can tell me. I want you to feel good too."

"You do make me feel good," you reassured, "It's just that I can't get my brain to be quiet. And when we're doing it, I keep thinking of my ex boyfriend, and it doesn't feel good. I don't like him at all, it's just like my mind wants to bug me."

Even though the idea of you thinking about another man during sex causes jealousy to flare within him, he reins in the instinctive anger he feels. By the pained look on your face, you clearly were just as displeased with it as he was. And while it hadn't happened in a while, he couldn't pretend like he'd never had his late wife dance through his thoughts in the heat of the moment.

So he didn't make you feel bad about it. He sighed and told you it was ok. You wanted to finish though and so he got you both to finish. He held you after like always and let you fall asleep against his side, but in his own mind, he planned for things would be different next time. There was no way he was gonna let some other guy keep you from enjoying yourself with him.

That's what led the both of you to now. He keeps your gaze locked with his own as fills you to the brim. Your eyes are glossy but with the haze of pleasure now rather than distraction, and he can't enough of it.

"That's right, babydoll. It's all me now, isn't it?" he coos lowly in your ear.

"Mhm," you whimper and nod, your head bobbing extra from his momentum.

"No room for anyone else," he grunts and digs his fingers into the plush of your cheeks.

Your lips puff out under the pressure, and he leans down to mash his mouth against your own. The kiss is wet and sloppy, your saliva and his mixing together while he nips at your bottom lip. He ruts into you faster, his breaths growing more ragged.

"Fuck.. Toji," you whimper arching your back and pressing your tits up against his chest.

"That's all you're gonna be able to say when I'm done with you, sweet thing," he says.

You whine and nod. That was what you wanted. Just him. If he was the only thing on your mind, you were happy. A big, dazed smile drifts to your features to match your fucked out eyes.

"That's a biiiiig smile, princess," he coos mockingly, "Who's making you smile like that?"

"You are," you whimper.

"Right. No one else can make you smile like that," he says.

You nod again and yelp when his cock rams into a sweet spot inside you. He chuckles at the sound and lifts his hands to rest above your head, caging your body below his.

"My baby. You're all mine. Mine to fuck dumb every. single. night," he pants.

"Don't want anyone else. Just you," you babble and drag your nails down his back.

"I know it," he says.

He then quickly reaches down, securing your hips with an iron grip and fucks into you as deep as possible. You see stars stars and let out a sound you can't control. You tighten around him like a vise, keeping him nice and deep where you need him.

"My Toji," you slur and bring your own hands back up to slide through his hair.

He moans quietly, and his eyes flutter shut. His hips sputter a bit as he feels his release creeping up on him.

"Gonna cum soon, dollface. Get you nice and full of me so even when I pull out, you know who that pussy belongs to," he mumbles.

You mewl in ecstasy, eager to feel him shoot deep inside you.

It doesn't take long for you to get your wish. His body lowers against yours, his flushed, sweaty skin sliding against your flesh. He pumps into you desperately with a groan as he drains himself between your tight, velvety walls.

He lets it all sink inside you before pulling out. His cock is still slick with your arousal. He leans back and pushes your thighs up, taking a look at your pussy stuffed full of his cum. Just how it should be.

Up top, you were still blissed out. He huffs out a laugh at your drooping eyes and contented expression.

"How you feeling, baby?" he asks and crawls back on top of you to give you some lazy smooches.

You hum and rub your nose against his cheek. Words were too hard right now in the best way.

He smirks and nips at your nose teasingly.

"Head all clear?" he whispers.

"Mhm," you say with satisfaction, opening your eyes wider and taking in the face of the man who had you now, mind and body.

[heejake-hoon]

Synopsis: you made Jake a little jealous, and now you have to face the consequences.

Tags: smut, mdni, name calling (cumslut, fuckdoll...), unprotected sex, hair pulling, light choking?, kind of possessive Jake.

note: not proof read, also rushed

-

You gasp as Jake slams you against the wall, crowding into your space until you're enveloped by his heat, his scent, his sheer overwhelming presence. His hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back sharply to bare the column of your throat to his darkened gaze.

"You've been acting like a little brat all night," he growls, nose skimming along your jawline. "Teasing me, flirting with other guys, making me fucking crazy with jealousy. Is this what you wanted, hmm? Wanted me to snap? To put you in your place?"

His other hand comes up to wrap around your throat, fingers flexing warningly. Your pulse flutters wildly against his palm and you swallow hard, mouth going dry at the dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Jake, I-" you start, but he cuts you off with a harsh squeeze to your windpipe, just hard enough to make you light-headed.

"Shut up," he snarls, free hand gripping roughly your breast through your shirt. "You don't get to play coy now, Y/N. Not after you spent the whole fucking night acting like a shameless little cocktease.” he squeezes the flesh in his hand harder making you moan “No, you wanted this. Wanted me to remind you who you belong to, didn't you? Wanted me to stake my fucking claim?"

You whimper, knees going weak as he rolls your nipple between unforgiving fingers. Slowly, deliberately, you nod, holding his dark gaze with your own. Something like triumph flashes across Jake's face and your stomach swoops in anticipation.

"That's what I thought," he says lowly, leaning in until his lips brush the shell of your ear. "You're mine, Y/N. This body is mine.” he tugs on ur nipple making you whimper in pain and arousal. “And I think it's time I reminded you of that fact."

Suddenly, he's spinning you around, shoving you face-first against the wall and yanking your skirt up around your waist. You yelp as he rips your panties clean off, the delicate lace giving way easily under his impatient hands.

"Fuck, look at you," Jake groans, trailing teasing fingers through your dripping folds. "Already so wet for me, baby. So desperate for my cock. I bet you'd let me fuck you right here, where anyone could walk by and see what a needy little slut you are, huh?"

"Yes," you gasp out, arching back into his touch shamelessly. "Yes, Jake, please, want you so bad-"

He chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers racing down your spine. "Oh, I know you do, sweetheart. And I'm going to give it to you. I'm going to fuck this greedy cunt so hard you forget your own name...."

Jake's fingers wrap around your throat from behind, cutting off your air supply and making your head swim. Your cunt clenches hard around nothing, a broken moan escaping your lips as he notches the thick head of his cock against your entrance.

"Gonna feel so good choking on my dick," he rasps, rolling his hips torturously slow, barely breaching you. "Gonna look so pretty with tears in your eyes, fighting for every breath while I split you open. You want that, baby? Want me to wreck this pussy, want me to make you see fucking stars?"

"Please," you whimper, scrabbling for purchase against the wall as he drives into you harder, deeper. "Jake, fuck, need it, need you to- ah!"

Your words dissolve into a high, keening cry as he bottoms out, pushing the air from your lungs and making you roll your eyes. Jake sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against your ass as he rails you, fingers tightening around your windpipe until you're dizzy with it, until your lungs burn and your cunt throbs and you can't tell up from down.

"That's it, take it," he grits out through clenched teeth, angling his thrusts to hit that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. "Fucking take my cock like the desperate little cumslut you are. Gonna stuff you so full of my dick you'll be feeling it for days.” He pulled away until only his tip was inside before slamming hard into you, earning a small cry from you as you started to lose it. “fuckkk, gonna paint this pussy white, plug you up and send you out there dripping with my fucking spend."

You keen brokenly, walls starting to flutter around him as black spots crowd the edges of your vision. You're right on the knife's edge of too much, the pleasure bordering on pain as Jake fucks into you relentlessly, choking you within an inch of your life.

"Jake," you rasp, scrabbling behind you to grab his wrist, nails biting into his skin. "Jake, 'm gonna come, gonna-"

"Do it," he snarls, doubling his efforts, slamming into you so hard your feet nearly leave the ground. "Come on my cock, Y/N. Fucking soak me, let me feel you shake apart-"

His words, his touch, the sweet ache of your lungs screaming for air - it's all too much. With a silent scream, you shatter, clamping down around him rhythmically as ecstasy crashes over you in blinding waves.

Jake swears in aw, hips stuttering as your cunt milks him for all he's worth. A few more erratic thrusts and he's coming too, muffling his groan against your shoulder as he spills deep inside you, marking you from the inside out.

Slowly, carefully, he loosens his grip on your throat, letting you suck in greedy lungfuls of air. You slump against the wall, knees giving out, but Jake is there to catch you, strong arms banding around your waist and holding you steady.

"I've got you," he murmurs, pressing soft kisses to your hair, your temple, your cheek. "You did so well for me, baby. Took everything I gave you like a champ. My good girl, my perfect little fuckdoll..."

You can only whimper in response, too dazed and dick drunk to form words. Jake chuckles, low against your skin, as he gathers you into his arms and carries you to the bedroom.

He lays you out on the sheets almost reverently, crawling over you and peppering your face with tender kisses. "I love you," he says quietly, smoothing your hair back from your sweat-damp brow. "I love you so fucking much, Y/N. You drive me crazy in the best possible way."

You hum contentedly, looping your arms around his neck and tugging him down into a slow, sweet kiss. "I love you too," you murmur against his lips. "Even when you're being a jealous caveman."

Jake grins, unrepentant. "Hey, I warned you when we started dating that I was the possessive type. Not my fault you didn't believe me."

You roll your eyes fondly, trailing idle fingers down his spine. "Mm, well, maybe I should tease you more often then. If this is the result..."

Jake's eyes flash with heat and he nips at your bottom lip in admonishment. "Careful what you wish for, brat," he warns playfully. "Keep it up and I really will fuck you in public next time. Bend you over the hood of the car and eat your cunt right there in the parking lot where anyone could see."

[barcaatthemoon]

guard dog || lucy bronze x reader ||

lucy cheers you up when the internet has it out for you.

"i think i'm gonna go lighter with my hair."

you had no idea the trouble those words were going to cause you. lucy had tried hard to keep you out of the spotlight, but it wasn't as easy as when you first started dating. you'd been with lucy since college, and over the years, fans had taken notice of you frequenting lucy's games. it wasn't until the euros, however, that lucy had finally confirmed your relationship.

it wasn't good for you to be on any social media when it felt like every other post was about you. you had dealt with a bit from fans before, but this was worse than you could have ever imagined. it was one thing to be accused of cheating by strangers, but it was the constant affirmations of things that you already thought about your relationship and yourself that got to you.

lucy was amazing, and you had never felt like you were right for her. she was always too smart or too ind for you. she was out of your league attractive. lucy bronze was too good for you, and it felt like millions of people agreed with that.

"hey, are you okay?" lucy's brows furrowed as she watched you lean forward. you were starting to hyperventilate as the world felt like it closed in on you. lucy rushed over to kneel beside you and tilt your head to look at her. "hey, what's going on?"

"i didn't cheat on you, i swear." it was something lucy already knew. you knew that she was well aware that you would never even think to do something like that, but it was all you could say. you needed to reassure her in case she saw the pictures and didn't recognize herself.

"i know that, i never said you did." lucy would have laughed if you weren't obviously so upset. "talk to me, what's going on?"

"the pictures after you got your hair done, when we met for lunch. i took your car, and they don't know what the other looked like. your hair was different, they think i'm cheating. they know that i don't deserve you," you rambled. lucy pulled you into her arms and held you against her chest. she ran her hands through your hair as she pressed gentle kisses to your temple.

"hey, it's okay. i will get this sorted out, i promise. can you go downstairs and pick out a takeout menu for us? i know that you were gonna cook, but not if you're upset. i want you to just relax for the night," lucy said. she gave you a squeeze before she let you go downstairs.

it wasn't easy, but you managed to take your mind off of everything after lucy hijacked your phone. lucy ordered your favorite takeout, even if she knew a few places that served the same thing that she liked better. you were truly pampered in a way that you hadn't been in a while. lucy was a busy woman at barcelona, not that she had ever been anything else. this was just different, and things often took up a lot more of her time than either of you expected.

"am i done with phone jail?" you asked lucy as the two of you laid out on the couch the next afternoon. lucy had helped you with breakfast in the morning, although you didn't let her lay a finger on your coffee. the two of you had spent most of the day catching up on the american sports that you had been missing out on.

"i don't know. do you promise not to make fun of me if you see anything too sappy?" lucy asked you. she looked a bit ashamed of herself, as if she had done something hastily last night. you knew that lucy could be fiercely protective over you. she had nearly beaten up one of her teammates when the two of you moved here and the girl had gotten too friendly with you for lucy's taste.

"that depends on what you did. lucy please tell me that you didn't say anything to get yourself in trouble." you stared at lucy, who just handed you back your phone. she tried to shift away from you, but you threw your weight down more securely on top of her. you opened up instagram to see that lucy had tagged you in a post. "aw baby."

you swiped through the pictures, each one from a different milestone in your relationship. they weren't necessarily your favorite pictures, but you knew that they were lucy's. there wasn't a single one where one of you didn't have a lovestruck look on your faces. most of them were lucy staring at you, but you definitely took note of the few thrown in where you looking at her like she was your everything.

"shut up," lucy grumbled. you looked at her with fresh tears in your eyes, and lucy just sighed to herself. "fuck, this wasn't supposed to make you cry."

"i love you so much," you said as you cupped her cheeks. lucy let you kiss her, but she tried to hide her face immediately once you were done. "you're so sweet. thank you for this."

"just stay off of twitter for a while," lucy told you. you nodded your head, but as soon as you went into one of your text chains with the few of her teammates you had befriended over the years, you saw what she wanted to hide from you. lucy was a woman of few words most of the time, but when she had something to say, she made sure to get her point across. you thought she was being a bit harsh, but lucy's message was sure to shut everybody up about getting at you.

[gamesetart]

me when dilf!art breeding kink but im feeling horribly masc so the actual idea of pregnancy grosses me out - anyways i support transmasc breeding kinks guys

nsfw below the cut - reader is afab, one use of 'good boy' but other than that its very neutral. afab terms for reader's parts.

tags: breeding kink (sort of? they're not actually trying to get pregnant), cheating (sort of, tashi allows it. orchestrated it, actually), mentions of the arttashi marriage, overstimulation, the mildest of crying. technically an age gap (art in his early 30s, reader in 20s) but it never comes up.

his hips slot against yours like he was made to be there, made to press your knees to your chest, to fold you in half, to settle between your thighs and jackrabbit in and out of your cunt like he owns it, like there isn't even a person attached to the rest of it.

it's not the first time you've found yourself like this, praising his athleticism whilst cursing his absolutely unfair stamina. you've cum around him twice already - on his tongue, because art donaldson wouldn't dare try to fuck you stupid without coating his face in your spend, first, then on his fingers, a futile attempt to open you up for his cock. but nothing feels like enough prep for art, especially not when you're whining for him, telling him you want it to hurt, you don't care, you need him now.

"fuck," art groans, breath hot against the crook of your neck. "fuck, you're so fuckin' tight f'me, jesus, baby."

"don't bring him into this," you manage, nipping at his ear.

he huffs a laugh. even when he's like this, fucking you like a man posessed, snapping his hips into yours like he'll die outside of the sweet clench of your pussy, he manages to find lightness. you both do. it keeps things sweet, keeps them from slipping too far into uncharted territory. you have tashi's permission to let him ruin you as he pleases - tashi duncan knows all, and she's sanctioned your existence as the perfect outlet for all pf art's pent-up fantasies - but art doesn't want to be rough with you. not yet. he likes that he can hold you and feel strong, protective. likes that he can bend you in two and still kiss your temple. art likes that you can be sweet, soft, lovely.

"shhh, you can take it, baby," art soothes, and it's far too kind with the way he's fucking you. "doin' so well for me."

"art-" it's a warning as much as it is a plea.

he just nods, strokes your hair from your face, gentle as sin, and presses his forehead to yours.

"go on, babe, cum on my cock, c'mon, that's it, that's it-" and he feels it, the moment your walls clench around him, the fluttering of your cunt as a broken cry of his name falls from your lips. "oh, god, there you go."

he doesn't stop, though, barely even slows as he wipes a tear from your cheek and continues to slam his cock right into your overstimulated cunt. no amount of whining, of red scratches raked down his back, could have stopped him. you have a word, a signal. if you really couldn't take it, he'd know.

but you're his good boy, you'll take it, you always will. you might be the only one who can. you're the only one he wants, certainly. the only person he can fuck into like this.

"'s too much," you sob weakly, clawing at him with shaking hands. "art, please, can't-"

art just shushes you with a soft, quick kiss. "got one more f'me, don't ya? i know you do, know you can, baby, c'mon."

the tears fall freely, the press of his cock inside you so ridiculously filling you wonder if you'll split in half, if you'll simply die from the overstimulation. and then you think that'll be such an excellent way to go out, crying under him, safe between his strong arms.

art's right hand slips from where it rests on the back of your knee, holding you spread open. he hooks your leg over his shoulder, using the now-free hand to rub torturous circles on your clit. it burns, it's good, too good, white-hot sparks of pain crossing their wires with pleasure as you all but scream, sounds torn from your lungs in ways you didn't know you could make.

"c'mon, babe, wanna feel you cum around my cock before i pull out-"

your eyes go wide and you shake your head. no, not this time, wait, but the words don't come out.

"what, what's wrong?" art slows, pulling his hand from you. his blue eyes are doe-like with concern, eyebrows knit in the middle, lips settled into a familiar worried pout as he stares down at you.

you get a second to catch your breath. "in me," you gasp hoarsely. "inside. art. want you to cum in me. fill me up, please."

it's like something snaps.

there's a look on his face you can only liken to how he looks on the court: wild, fierce, a calculated cruelty he uses to systematically destroy whoever's on the other side of the net. and right now, a version of that look is fixed on you, a hungry glint in his eyes, pupils blown so wide you'd think his iries had vanished.

"fuck," he groans. "you want me to breed you, that it? fill up this pretty little pussy?"

and you moan, because neither of you are trying for a baby, not in the slightest, but the idea of being owned so thoroughly by art donaldson is enough to make you clench around him, fresh heat coiling in your core, and you could probably give him a hundred more orgasms, as long as he keeps talking to you like that.

"yeah, yeah, fuck me, art, 'til it takes, please," you babble, and maybe one day you'll start meaning it.

his pace begins anew, and this time, there's barely any rhythm to it. he's seeking release for himself now, too, for the first time since this has started, pulling out almost entirely before snapping back in so hard, you're sure you can feel it in your throat. deft fingers make rough circles on your clit, quick and dirty.

it pulls another orgasm from you faster than you'd like to admit. you don't even have time to warn him, but he can feel it in the way you tighten, your legs shaking, can hear it in the sharp note of your voice when you call his name.

"that's it, there you go," art groans. "gonna fill you right up, baby. 's what you want, right?"

you nod, so far past words, so far past anything more than lying there and taking it. but that's all he needs from you. his pace stutters.

"fuck, yes, you're so perfect, so good to me, you feel so good-" he's babbling now, grinding into you with all the grace and decorum of a fucking animal. "made for me, made for this cock, god, yes-"

and with a high keen of your name he's cumming, driving his hips into you, pushing his cock in as far as your cunt will allow, so far you're almost worried his sheer willpower is enough to override the birth control pill you're on. he stays there for a while, holds it in like he really is going to force it to take. and when he pulls out, his fingers push it back it sloppily.

art presses a soft kiss to your temple and all but collapses next to you with a sigh. when he catches his breath, you know he'll vanish to the bathroom, return with damp cloths and the bath running. he'll massage all your sore joints and rub oils into your skin and kiss every inch of you. but right now, he just needs to feel you. to lie next to you and try to memorise the pattern of your breathing.

"that was... something," you mumble, a soft smile playing at your tired lips.

"good something?" art asks.

"great."

"oh, thank god, because i really enjoyed that."

"so did i."

he kisses you again, on the lips. it's slow, sweet, drawn-out, as he weaves a hand into your hair and trails it down to draw circles on your shoulder. both of you know a child isn't in the cards right now, but your purpose here is to let art play pretend. you don't even actually want kids, it's just hot to think about making art a daddy again. tashi is the mother of his daughter, will be the mother of any of his future children. you, you're the outlet she hand-picked for all of art's needs, because while she can do everything, she won't let him fuck her the way he wants to fuck someone, and art doesn't want to fuck tashi the way he fucks you. you're okay with that. you like being someone he needs. someone he wants.

and who knows? maybe tashi will change her mind. maybe you will. maybe she'll let you have his next kid, and maybe you'll want it.

god knows art wants it. he'd let you. he'd give you anything. everything.

"thank you," he mumbles against your hair. "that was... i love you."

"i should be thanking you, i haven't cum thag much in one night in... ever."

you pause, tip your head up to meet his eyes. he's smiling, soft as silk, sweet as sugar. in the dying light of the sun, his hair looks like it's on fire, haloed by the sky itself. apollo incarnate come down from the heavens.

"i love you too," you say. and mean it.

[toji-girl]

baby trapping with papa toji….? 🥰

18+ only content - mdni

it's always the characters do it so I switched it up!

tags: fem reader + dark content + baby trapping + explicit smut

also please please do NOT do this IRL - a conversation about bringing another life into this world is something that needs to happen!!!

Toji is a wonderful uncle to your soccer team of nieces and nephews and young cousins who love to ride on his back as the older kids chase after them, whenever he was around there was sure to be loud laughter coming from the gaggle of kids that followed him.

If you showed up to your parent's house alone all the kids would ask where Toji is and when you mentioned he was at work they gave you the stink eye because you're just not as fun as them and your husband is the fun one out of the adults.

You just obeyed your sisters and aunts' rules.

But they were meant to be bent a little and that's how you ended up in the bathroom of your shared home with your husband flushing your birth control pills down the toilet along with poking holes in the condom, both were beyond vile and foul truth be told.

Your womb ached each time you saw Toji being soft on the children and when he held your brother's newborn baby your plan was blown all to hell, it made the ache now pulse and bloom into a burning desire that occupied all of your thoughts with Toji's baby.

The baby tucked in his arms is something you could never forget, neither were his words.

"I think we're having fun being the aunt and uncle, we don't need a brat of our own for a while."

His words echoed since that day when you had to wait for your ovulation week to come around which felt like forever until the telltale signs flashed like a neon light in a dark alley. You were insatiable.

Toji loved it too.

The way you rubbed up against him, pressing your tits into his back when you hugged him from behind to slide your hand into his shorts. "Darlin', you do know I'm trying to cook us something?" He husked.

"I know, you look so domestic, makes me horny." You teased stroking him from base to tip feeling him swell in your palm as you scattered open-mouthed kisses along his bare shoulders and back.

He mumbled something but you didn't hear it when he turned around to watch you drop to your knees to tug his bottoms down until they pooled around his ankles while leaning against the counter.

Green eyes narrowed when you kissed his sticky tip lapping at the pre that pearled at the slit. Toji let out a deep groan as you deepthroated him resting your nose in his soft pubic hair.

His sack rested against your chin as you bobbed up and down letting your eyes flutter shut as you pleasured your husband. "I don't want you to cum in my mouth, I want a creampie, please?" You begged.

It was wrong, you knew it.

There was no way Toji could deny you when his head was wrapped up in his high. You giggled when he helped you to your feet and guided you to the bedroom undressing you on the way there.

His hands felt soft against you as he caressed your sides as he kneeled between your legs letting them rest on his thighs as he felt you up. "My pretty wife." He murmured looking down at you.

His cock was hot and heavy as he let it rest on your pussy, teasing you in a way that made you whine and mewl for him.

Toji couldn't hold back anymore not when he knew your wet and warm cunt was waiting for him. He loved to watch the way your hole stretched around the tip before going back down in size when he pulled out. "Stop teasing me please and fuck me!" You cried out.

He chuckled and leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss as he thrust in and out working you up to him finally bottoming out as you slid your arms under his hooking them as you clung to him.

Your back lifted off the mattress as his hand slid down your side to grope until he reached your leg hitching it higher until it dangled over his shoulder and he was going deeper with slow strokes that made you feel impossibly full and head fuzzy as pleasure drowned you.

Even though you were on the pill, Toji sometimes still wore condoms but now he wondered why he did when you felt so wet and good, the way your pussy pulsed around him begging silently not to pull out.

And how could he when you were begging him so sweetly under him?

Your words slurred together as tears gathered in your eyes when his thumb circled around your clit making you clench tighter around him, his skin felt sticky with sweat as you rubbed his back and shoulders.

A million soft I love yous fell from your lips like spilled ink on paper.

That was weeks ago but it still never left your mind, the feeling of him coming inside you was a feeling you were addicted to.

The first sign of your plan coming together was your missed period and mood swings that caught Toji's attention, he's been around your sisters enough to know that you might be pregnant, but how?

He knew that the pill wasn't a hundred percent at stopping this, so he was confused about how you ended up pregnant.

[auteurdelabre]

So Much to Lose Part 13 : Family Dinner

words: 7.5k

story rating: 18+

tags: emotional, sexual tension, idiots in love

a/n: two days ahead of schedule! I had to add another chapter in before 'coffee flavored kisses' chapter so it makes dramaturgically (please get that reference). I hope you enjoy, its one of my favorite scenes I've written for this story.

masterlist

Chapter 13: Family Dinner

"Are you even listening to me?"

You glance over your shoulder to where Jennifer leans against your counter. She's wearing a purple sweater dress today, her own creation. She's holding a coffee and giving you a small smirk.  

"Sorry, what?"

"You're distracted today," Jennifer muses.

The two of you are in your kitchen this morning, the early morning sun shining through your windows. It melted a lot of the snow, allowing bits of green to poke through. 

Jennifer saw you returning from the market with all the baking supplies you'd need. She'd commented that she wished she could bake as well as you and so of course you'd offered to teach her. 

She is so willing to spend her time teaching you to shoot, to take care of you, of course you wanted to pay her back in some small way. But ever since she crossed the threshold this morning with two coffees in hand chattering away about the town meeting you've felt this deep pit in your stomach.

Why did he do that? Why did you let him? Why did you want him to do more? You certainly hadn’t shied from his touch; you’d begged him to make you come right there. Your cheeks flame at the memory, thinking back to that evening.

You’d given Jennifer some bullshit excuse about a headache after she found you moments after you staggered out of the closet. Then you’d jogged home, your heart racing as quickly as your mind.

"Just haven't made a cake in a long time," you lie, turning away from her as you mix the batter. "Guess I'm just super focused on it."

The truth is you're completely distracted today. You have been ever since the town meeting with Joel's hand down your pants and his voice in your ear commanding you to come. You're ashamed to admit that since that night you've been bringing yourself off to the memory. 

Are you actually attracted to asshole? Or is it just that he makes the world feel safe? That he can make your brain turn off and make it all go quiet? 

There's also a humiliation there. "You think I didn't hear you on patrols?" 

You force the thought from your mind. You don't need to think about that right now. You turn your attention back to your friend who is mixing her own chocolate batter. 

"I was asking why you're making a cake of all things?" Jennifer says, frowning at the lumpy contents of her bowl. "You making it for Luke?"

She says it in a singsong voice, grinning toothily at you. 

"No," you say with a smirk. "Just making it for practice." 

Luke is another fly in the ointment as it were. While Joel's personality is abrasive at best, Luke is tender and sweet and patient. When he talks to you he really seems like he cares to know your opinion. Unlike a certain Mister Miller.

"Maybe I'll give this one to Joel," Jennifer muses, as if reading your thoughts. "They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach after all."

You give her a weak smile. 

While you're ashamed that Joel's treatment of you is turning you on more than you want to admit, you're more ashamed that the woman in front of you is supposed to be your friend, your best friend, and you're keeping this all from her. 

It wouldn't matter as much if she didn't like Joel. You could excuse your lack of sharing on being a private person. But you know that Jennifer likes Joel and keeping this from her is dishonest. But you're also a coward because you can't find the words to tell her.

"How was shooting practice with Luke?"

"Good," you tell her honestly, feeling a blush overtake your cheeks. "I shot four cans from a pretty fair distance."

"That's amazing!" Jennifer wraps you in a hug from behind. "See I knew you just needed a little practice!"

You grin shyly, feeling pleased and pretty damn proud of yourself.

"So did you like being with Luke alone?" Jennifer says casually as you set the temperature on the stove. There's something about the way she says it that gives you pause. 

When you look up she's grinning into her bowl, a sneaky little grin just for herself. The answer is there before you even ask the question. 

"You planned that?" 

You stare at her open-mouthed. Jennifer shrugs at you, as if she is not the most devious person in the room. 

"I mean I did need to help with textiles but I didn't need to miss practice." She winks at you. "And I may just get called away at the last minute next week too." 

"Jennifer!"

The two of you dissolve into laughter, the rest of the morning bathed in shades of pink. Jennifer has that uncanny ability to bring color into every room.  

A short while later you remove the dual cakes from the oven, praising Jennifer on hers. With your coaching her cake is going to be edible (which is more than you can say for her past baking ventures). 

"Okay these need to cool before we ice them."

"Good, its lunch let's go get something."

You follow her out your front door, both of you pulling on your jackets as Jennifer chats on about how the textile group has needed her for the occasional shift. 

"I don't mind though," she says tossing her blonde locks over her shoulder. "I love seeing all the fabric." 

You wish that you could listen to Jennifer, to give all of your attention to her. But it's just not possible at this point, your mind is elsewhere. 

It's back in that room with Joel. 

Tommy and Maria are eating when you and Jennifer arrive to the dining hall. They wave you over with a smile and the two of you bring your trays to their table, joining them. 

Maria is wearing Douglas across her chest and he is milk drunk, passed out and grunting slightly in his sleep. 

"Hi you two."

Maria looks exhausted with dark hollows under her eyes. But she smiles anyway, kissing Douglas's forehead and turning to you. 

"How have you been?"

"Good how about you?"

"Tired," she smiles weakly. "Oh, I meant to ask if there was any chance you'd be willing to make some more flowers for us? I don't mean to be selfish but I'd just love Douglas to have some bright yellow ones in his room."

"Of course!" You're delighted that you can do something to help your friend. "I'd love to, I'll work on it this weekend." 

Maria gives your upper arm a gentle squeeze of thanks, whispering to Douglas that the nice lady was going to make his room beautiful. 

"Seems we're all gonna be working hard this weekend," Tommy muses over his coffee. "Gotta start getting some of the holiday stuff out of storage at our place."

You wrinkle your nose in surprise. 

"Christmas isn't for over a month."

"Yeah but it takes a lot to put on a holiday party for the town," Tommy says through a bite of salad as if you should know this already. 

"Tommy this'll be her first one," Maria reminds him. 

"Oh shit that's right," Tommy nods just as Jennifer retakes her place across from you. Tommy motions to her with his fork.

"Jenny knows all about it."

"What do I know all about?"

"The yearly holiday party."

Jennifer immediately grins enthusiastically.

"My favorite event of the year. The whole town comes out, everyone brings food, there's a band, dancing, booze, presents... It's always so much fun and goes until the next morning usually."

"We decorate the big barn by the stables," Tommy continues and you see the genuine joy in his eyes, like thirty years have been stripped away and he's just a sweet, boy on Christmas morning. "It's a big job, but with enough volunteers it goes pretty smooth." 

"We'll help you," Jennifer says out of nowhere before looking at you. "Right?"

The thing you love most about Jennifer is also the thing that drives you the most insane. She's always wanting to help people, and that would be fine if she didn't try to rope you in with her. 

Even if you didn't want to volunteer there's no possible way that you can say no now. Tommy is glancing over at you with an expectant raise of his eyebrows, Maria matching him. 

"Yeah of course. What do you need done?"

"Well we got music, set up and tear down taken care of, that's usually the hard stuff," Tommy says, rubbing his beard absently as he looks off in the middle distance. Then he snaps, remembering. "How about decorations?"

"Sure," Jennifer nods. "I love decorating, plus I worked in textiles so I have access to fabric and stuff." 

"Great," Tommy says looking overjoyed. "Joel'll be happy to have the help."

"Joel?""

Both you and Jennifer blurt the name out at the same time, though for very different reasons. 

"Yeah Joel is in charge of cutting down and decorating the tree this year. Guy who normally does it broke his leg last week." 

"Decorating a tree doesn't really sound like a three person job," you reason, pushing your carrot stick around your plate. 

"You haven't seen how big the tree is," Tommy grins. "Joel's gonna get a big one, at least twelve feet. Plus there's hanging the lights around the barn and all that stuff."

"Leave it to us, Tommy." 

Jennifer is fucking beaming as she goes back to her lunch, Maria and Tommy are exchanging smiles, but all you can do is hold in the nerves that begin in your stomach. 

Tommy and Maria depart shortly thereafter with the latter giving you a squeeze to your shoulder before she leaves. 

"I can't believe it, more chances to be alone with Joel," Jennifer giggles.

"I'll be sure to give you two a lot of alone time," you snark. "Take a page from your book."

The last thing you want is to be witness to more of them flirting, especially when thoughts of Joel have you feeling so churned up.

Jennifer laughs, about to reply to you when you both hear her name being called. An older woman with spiky grey hair is standing by the entrance to the hall and signalling for Jennifer to come over. Jennifer groans, muttering under her breath so only you can hear. 

"I know that look. She needs help with something at the shop,” Jennifer rolls her eyes as she stands. "Any chance you could ice my cake? I'll pick it up later if that's okay?"

"Uh, I might be out for a walk," you say hurriedly. "How about I just bring it over to you later?"

"You don't mind?"

"Not at all."

"You're a peach!" Jennifer gives your hand a squeeze before excusing herself to join the woman standing expectantly at the dining room doors. 

You watch after your friend, musing that it’s so like Jennifer to want to help everyone. But now that you know why she keeps her days so busy your heart aches for her. How can you think of being attracted to Joel when you know your friend likes him? A friend that's done so much for you. 

Joel Miller isn't worth this anxiety or stress. It's not like he even enjoys your company. You're fairly certain he just gets off on ordering you around. You need to push him from your mind. 

You'll go to dinner tonight, you'll do patrols with him, but you'll keep it professional. You are going to help Jennifer get with Joel. The decision is made. It's the least you can do for a woman who has been through so much. 

Your name is called, breaking you from your thoughts. You glance over your shoulder to see Arthur and Penny headed in your direction with trays. 

"I thought that was you," Arthur says with a grin. "Mind if we join you?" 

"Please do."

The two of them sit shoulder to shoulder across from you. They fold their hands, muttering a quiet prayer for grace and then start digging in. You watch them, amused at how mis-matched a pair they are.

"So whaddya you do around here sweet pea?" Penny asks through a bite of toast. Up this close you notice her front left tooth is cracked. 

"I do patrols," you say. She curls her lip at you, perplexed. 

"Whassat?"

"It's when groups of us that take turns going outside the walls to make sure infected and Raiders don't get in or do damage to the dam." You pause hoping you've explained it decently. "

Penny gives a low whistle. "Dayum, that seems like an awful job. I'd rather clean up garbage any day." 

“It's pretty much just been carrying a gun and riding a horse so far for me."

And mutual pleasure from my nemesis.

"I don't envy ya," Penny says shaking her head and dropping back to her lunch. 

You don't know what to say to that. You watch them eat for a moment, intending on leaving them to it when Arthur starts talking.  

"I wanted to ask you, when did you want to get together for the portrait? I'd love to get back into it and I know I promised you, so I've set up my table by the window and Maria's given me some paper and pencils." 

"She did? That's great." 

You haven't been by to see Maria since the meeting and her anxious looking face keeps floating back into your mind. You know that she must be feeling overwhelmed with everything on top of Douglas. 

"She's a sweet lady," Penny observes. "Gotta bad case a' baby blues though."

You stiffen.

"Why do you say that?"

"Could see it the second I met her," Penny says absently drinking her tea. Her large eyes scan the room, obviously still nervous at the crowds. "Mothers know these things." 

"You have children?"

You don't miss the look of anguish that touches both their features. Before she speaks you know what she'll say.

"Used to."

Arthur is somber when Penny goes quiet, as if behind his pale eyes, his mind is concocting images of the face of the nameless child. Feeling guilty and uncomfortable you want to change the topic, your brain clinging the first thing that comes to your mind. Which happens to be the previous topic. 

"Arthur, I know I asked you about portraits, but I'm actually wondering if I could trade in that favor for a different one."

Arthur shoots you a watery grin.

"Lay it on me." 

///

You take a look at yourself in the mirror over your dresser that evening. It's faded, warped from age and damp. But it does the job and it reflects your tired eyes and your simple clothing. 

You blink at yourself before pulling on a new crimson-colored sweater, one of several that Jennifer gave you a few weeks ago claiming they would go wonderfully with your skin tone. 

You don't know why you're so nervous as you head to Rancher Street with the cake in your hands. You've been invited for dinner, it's sure to be a pleasant night. The cake wobbles in your nervous grip, the frosting gleaming in the fading sunlight. 

When the house comes into view you see Joel sail by in the window, going from one end to the other, reading something. His gaze is fixed, his head tilted to the page. From here you see his strong profile, the curve of his nose, and the pout of his lips. 

Fuck. Don't think about his lips. 

You swallow nervously as you make your way up the creaking porch steps. You take a full moment to stare at the door, looking at the chipped paint and the swept porch deck. 

It's just a dinner. Ellie will be there. I'll be fine. 

You knock gingerly with your free hand, shifting from one foot to the next as you hear footsteps approach. 

Joel opens the door sharply, brows furrowed before he realizes it's you. His dark eyes widen slightly, scanning you and the cake. Immediately your heart begins to pound in your chest, your cheeks heating the longer his eyes linger on your face. 

He's dressed as he always is, flannel and jeans. His hair is tousled, as if he's been running his fingers through it. You look at Joel's wool socks, strangely fascinated. They're a deep grey, worn and thick, they're so human. He stares at you, looking confused and a little surprised. 

"Can I help you?" 

His voice comes rumbling from his chest, deep and measured. You can't stop looking at his neck, noticing the sharp of his jaw, the fullness of his mouth. It has you feeling strangely distracted. 

You lick your lips nervously, inhaling quietly when his gaze drops to your mouth and then back again.

"Uh... I'm here for dinner," you say breathlessly. "I brought the cake." 

He peers at you, confusion clear in his expression. 

"Dinner?"

"Uh, yeah..." Your neck is starting to heat because Joel is crossing his arms over his chest, tilting slightly against the door frame and he doesn't look like he has any idea of what you're talking about. 

"Didn't you invite me to dinner tonight?" 

He shakes his head slowly. 

"But Ellie sa-" you start before slamming your lips together as realization belatedly dawns in your features. 

Ellie wanted you for dinner. Ellie realized that you'd never stay if you thought Joel didn't expressly invite you.

Ellie played you. 

"I'm sorry, I think there's been a misunderstanding," you say, feeling humiliated as Joel continues to stand there staring at you. 

You thrust the cake towards him, your eyes on the ground. 

"I made this for Ellie," you tell his socks. "Could you just give it to her?" 

Joel takes the cake from you, his fingertips trailing over yours as he does. You swallow again, feeling the little bolts of lightning that start at his touch. You watch as Joel quietly prepares to close the door, his eyes now on the ground. 

You hear the twist of the knob and can only make a little scoffing noise in the back of your throat. What had you been thinking? Had you really been so stupid as to think Joel Miller invited you over for dinner when he can barely stand you? 

"Hey," he begins, but you're already starting to move down the porch, humiliation coming off of you in waves. 

You both hear your name and your head jerks up to see Ellie coming up the walkway to the house, her arms laden down with bags. She sees you at the door and smiles broadly before she sees you heading away from the porch. 

"Where are you going?"

"Ellie, I don't really know why I'm here." 

Ellie's immediately deflates, her good spirits dimmed. 

"I wanted you to have dinner with us."

It's impossibly sweet of Ellie to want to spend time with you, but is Joel a necessary part of the equation? 

"Why did you tell me Joel invited me to join you both for dinner?"

"Because I knew if I didn't you wouldn't come."

Ellie's gaze sails away from you and over to Joel who stands with his shoulder against the doorway, arms crossed and brow raised. He looks unimpressed with the pair of you. Ellie gives a grunt, heading towards him with a frown. 

"I invited her for dinner."

"Without askin' me first."

"Last time I checked it's my house too." Ellie shifts the bags in her hands. "I brought dinner and she brought dessert."

"Fine by me. I'll give you two some space." 

Joel goes to retrieve his jacket from the hook by the door but Ellie makes a disapproving noise. 

"No, you have to stay too."

Joel gives an exasperated roll of his eyes. 

"Ellie what is this?"

Ellie looks like she's halfway between a cry and a shout. She doesn't answer until he reaches for his jacket again. 

"It's my fucking birthday, okay?"

Joel goes still, his large eyes looking at her with confusion. A quiet moment passes between the two of them. 

"Your birthday?"

"Yes."

There's a lot of confusion now on your end. The way they act you'd assumed they must have known each other for most of Ellie's life. But that can't be the case if her birthday is such a shock to him.

"I didn't know."

"Obviously. Now will you stop being a grumpy asshole so my friend can have dinner with us?"

Joel looks appropriately admonished, a hand sliding to the back of his pinking neck. He's about to speak but you cut in. 

"Ellie this is a family thing," you try to appeal. "Here, take the cake and you two enjoy."

You go to hand her the cake but she shakes her head resolutely as she moves around Joel. 

"Both of you."

With that she disappears inside leaving you and Joel on the porch in tense silence. He sighs quietly before shifting his eyes to your face. 

"C'mon in then, I guess." 

You follow the two of them into the kitchen, citing that you need to put the cake in the fridge just in case. It's been a long time since you made butter cream icing and you don't want it melting.

You set it amongst the array of vegetables and water bottles inside the ice box. Ellie grabs some plates and utensils while Joel stands watching you both.  

"Grab the lemonade man," Ellie calls over her shoulder at him. You follow her into the other room, watching as she sets the table and indicates for you to take the nearest chair. 

“Joel look what they're serving tonight!" Ellie laughs, holding up the huge plate full of ravioli from the dining hall. Joel gives a droll chuckle. 

"My favorite."

Joel and Ellie exchange a secret smile, but not one that feels exclusionary. More just sweet to witness. Ellie scoops the pasta onto the plates and Joel fills up the glasses and the three of you take your seats and start eating.

You focus all your attention on the ravioli on your plate, taking small nibbles as your stomach is roiling. 

You feel eyes on the side of your face and glance over to see Joel's eyes skimming back to his plate. He looks so sullen, his jaw clenching with every bite. Your eyes drift to the other side of the table to see Ellie. She's eating her pasta with gusto but you can see the defeated look in her face.

Some birthday dinner this turned out to be. 

Joel sits on one end of the table looking uncomfortable, Ellie sits on the other end totally oblivious and you're in the middle of both with your eyes stuck on your dinner. You need to break this silence.

"So how old are you turning?"

"Fifteen," Ellie replies through a mouthful of ravioli. 

"Same age I was when everything happened," you muse. 

"Really?"

"Yeah," you nod. "Maybe that's why we get along so well. I haven't matured past fifteen."

You think you hear a small huff of amusement from Joel's direction but that might just be wishful thinking. The three of you eat your pasta in comfortable silence before Ellie turns her attention on you.

"Were you shooting yesterday? I thought I saw you and that tall guy."

Joel's attention drifts to you; you can feel it boring into the side of your face. 

"Yeah," you answer quietly. "Our friend Je-“ you catch yourself, "our other friend had to work. Normally it’s the three of us.”

“Are you any good?”

“I’m better than when I started,” you smile, motioning to Joel with your fork. “But you can ask Joel, that’s not saying much.”

You dart a glance to see Joel smirking into his dinner. Ellie laughs through a mouthful of ravioli, before she shines her attention over your way. 

“Did you hear about that party next month? Tommy was talking about it today.”

Who could forget the holiday party? The continued forced proximity with a man you just can’t quite figure out.

“My friend volunteered us for decorating,” you say, ignoring the way Joel’s motions still out the corner of your eye. “So I guess we better show up. Plus I’ve never been to one before so I’m curious.”

“We never had shit back like this in the QZ,” Ellie tilts back in her chair. “Closest we got is a pair of socks wrapped up with a bow. Fucking pathetic.”

“Language.”

Ellie rolls her eyes at Joel before looking back at you. “I hope this one is better than that.”

“You might need a dress if you go.”

The two of you glance over at Joel gulping back some of his lemonade. When he sees your dual questioning looks he raises his eyebrows, silently asking what?

Ellie stares at Joel as if she's been struck across the face. "The fuck would I wear a dress for?"

"In the south women dressed up for everything," Joel tells Ellie as he passes her the salad. "Just how things were done. My grammie wore a dress and pearls to go shoppin' in."

You can't help but discreetly glance down at your worn jeans and oversized sweater, suddenly seeing the snags and uneven loops in material. Not exactly dressed up. But you don't own nice, pretty clothes me up of soft feminine fabric. You have denim and leather and wool. Hard, fierce materials for the elements. 

"I hate dresses," Ellie frowns. "And things have changed since your day old man."

"You little shit."

You smile into your pasta. The silence is back over the table and you feel the need to fill it, despite it being a comfortable one. Emboldened by the relaxed mood in all people at the table you shift your question to Joel. 

"Are you going?" You ask casually, your attention on your meal. You hate how the flutter has begun in your chest. 

"I better. I volunteered to help with it."

"I figured you might have just been doing it for Tommy," you shrug. "Can't say I picture you at some big event with dinner and dancing."

"Joel dancing?" Ellie sputters a laugh into her glass of water. 

Joel arches a dark brow at Ellie. 

"Just can't picture it," she says giggling. 

"You know I wasn't born an old man," Joel says amused, turning his attention back to his dinner. "Did plenty of dancin’ in my day."

"Really?"

"S'half the reason Sarah was born," he says with a small smirk before he realizes what he's said.

The table grows quiet as his smile vanishes. Ellie notes the tension, shovelling pasta into her mouth.  You feel a lurch in your stomach at Joel's queasy expression. As if you'd dug a blade down his sternum and exposed his still beating heart to the world. 

It makes you speak without thinking, desperate to show him he's safe to share that side to him. Desperate to let him know he's not alone. 

"My sister loved to dance," you offer up, feeling the dual gazes of the people at the table. 

"My sister was in ballet but she'd uh, she'd do this stupid dance called the Macarena." You laugh a bit to yourself as you recall it. "It was really popular, was on the radio all the time and my dad hated it. I think that's why she kept doing it. He'd act all irritated but he'd always end up laughing." You smile at the memory. "She could always make people laugh." 

Ellie is smiling broadly, fascinated by your stories of this time before and there’s something so comforting, so normal in talking about your sister like this. Like the world isn’t ended and ugly, like she could come walking through the front door right now.

"One time my dad waited until we were in the backyard and then he turned the hose on her when she started singing and doing it,” you say, laughing bubbling forth from you. Ellie joins in, amusement painted in her expression.

Joel is listening with a gentle curl of his mouth. Ellie turns her attention over to him.

"You ever do the Macaroni dance, Joel?"

"Macarena," Joel corrects. "And fuck no, I didn't."

His horrified expression and just hearing the term Macarena in his husky drawl has you laughing loudly, a bright, noisy thing that bursts from you. It brings Ellie along with it, giggling and snorting as Joel rolls his eyes, his mouth twitching as if he's unable to keep the smirk from spreading over his features.  

The laughter ebbs comfortably and you shoot Joel a grateful look. 

"It's nice to remember the good times."

The smile he gives you in return is soft and sweet.

"Yeah. It is."

His gentleness makes your chest ache in a way you don't quite understand. It makes you feel compelled to change the topic. You shift your attention over to Ellie who is watching you both with a small curve of the corner of her mouth.

"Uh, so, I didn't know it was your birthday but I guess I actually got you a gift,” you tell her. “If you want it and Joel's okay with it."

Joel looks on edge, brow raised in confusion. Ellie wears a twin expression, but more relaxed. 

"Really?"

She looks around you for a box or wrapped item. 

"I, uh, found someone to do your tattoo to cover up your scar."

Immediately the room is silent and Ellie’s hand unconsciously places itself on her forearm, hidden under her striped sleeve. Your eyes ping pong between the two of them, concerned you’ve done something wrong. Joel is quiet, his dark eyes surveying your face as if he doesn't know what to make of you.

"If you wanted it," you amend. 

"Are you serious?" Ellie is wide-eyed.

"Yeah it's this new guy, Arthur. He just came to town with his wife. He does stick and poke tattoos and he owes me one so..." You trail off before forcing yourself to finish. "If you wanna see his work I'll introduce you to his wife. She's covered in them and they're gorgeous." 

Joel is still quiet and you're not sure what to make of the silence. You frown over at him, grimacing slightly. 

"Is that okay, Joel?"

Joel tilts back, one forearm lying casually on the table, the other resting on the back of his chair. 

"I'll wanna meet this guy. Make sure he's trustworthy."

"Of course."

"If he is... Well, it's not my body not my choice. But if you want my opinion Ellie, I'd say it's a damn fine idea."

Relief blooms in your face as Ellie gives a squeak of delight. Joel is still looking at you though, face relaxed. 

Ellie is still staring at you a beat before whipping her gaze to Joel. The two of them share a private grin before Ellie turns round to look back at you. 

"Can we go tonight?"

You laugh. "No, but I can see if there's room in his schedule later this week. If you come to lunch in the dining hall tomorrow his wife might be there."

"Awesome!" 

You smile back at her, feeling a familiar tug under your ribs every time you're happy. A measure of guilt mixed with joy. It makes your eyes wet and you push back from the table needing a moment to breathe. 

"I'll go grab your cake," you mutter, striding from the room. You hear the two of them chatting quietly behind you as you pull the cake from the fridge. 

You search the drawers for three plates and a knife, sniffling slightly. All you can think of is this bubbling joy and how she's not here to see it, to feel it, to live it too. 

You take a moment to stare at the pale pink cake. The icing on it is lumpier than you would have liked, but you'd been rushed for time. You look at the sliced strawberries and delicate whirls and you frown. 

This cake couldn't be less Ellie. Ellie is dark berries and bittersweet chocolate. She's not strawberries and pale pink icing. You idly wonder why you made this specific one for her today. 

You know why.

You cut into the cake to shut up the voice, noting how dense it ended up being with each pass of the blade. You cut it into several pieces, wiping at your eyes with the back of your sleeve with each slice. 

You feel a presence behind you; footsteps slow as they make their way next to you. Joel deposits the empty dinner dishes into the sink with a light clatter. You inhale his clean laundry and wood shavings scent, feeling dizzy. You wait for him to leave, but he’s standing there beside you, his frame sturdy. You drag your eyes up his chest to his face.

"That was kind of you, doin' that for Ellie."

"Oh, I'm not doing anything," you say with a shy lift of one shoulder. "Just the organizer."

Joel nods, tongue lodged in the side of his cheek as he stares at you thoughtfully. You let your hair fall in front of your face, worried he'll see the sheen to your eyes. It effectively blocks him out as you plate one of the cake pieces. 

"She's a good kid," you offer, knife gliding over the dish. "She deserves good things." 

"She does."

"Arthur is really nice," you tell him, hoping that if you continue to distract yourself by talking that your tears won't spill down your cheeks. "And I know he'd be discreet." 

"S'good."

"So if you want to-"

You break off when you feel Joel's fingers sliding through your hair, moving it over your left shoulder so he can peer into your face. His fingers slip down your shoulder blade before leaving your body. You track each movement, body tingling. 

"You okay?

You blink quickly, pulse jumping. His eyes hold nothing but concern in their depths, confusing you. 

"Yep. I'm fine."

He cocks his head slightly, one hand braced against the counter. 

"And the truth?"

You swallow, plating the remaining slices of cake. 

"Do you ever feel guilty that you're alive and others aren't? Like... Every time I feel a little bit happy it's like its wrong." 

Joel nods but he doesn't offer more than that. You're thankful because you're not sure any words could have brought a modicum of comfort anyway. 

You scrub at your eyes with the back of your sleeve before taking a page from Jennifer’s book; forcing a wobbly smile onto your face and motioning to the cake.

“So are we singing Happy Birthday?”

“Not a fuckin’ chance.”

You grin at him, handing him his slice of cake and following him back into the dining room. Ellie there, looking excitedly to you as you slide her cake in front of her. She plucks the strawberry off the top, popping it into her mouth.

You take your lemonade glass and raise it. 

"To Ellie on her birthday," you say with a grin. "May your coming year be full of adventure."

Ellie smiles with a shy tilt of her face into her shoulder. You're surprised when you see Joel raise his own glass. 

"And less joke books."

Ellie sputters a laugh at this, head back her shoulders shaking. Joel chuckles at her and once again you feel like you're witnessing something sweet without being left out. Like they're letting you peek into their secret selves. 

“So was this an okay birthday dinner?” you ask.

“My first real one,” Ellie shrugs. “So it’s a good one for me. Plus I don’t actually know my birthday. I just decided I liked November so…”

She shrugs trailing off, her eyes stuck on the cake like she’s ashamed. You dart a look at Joel to see him similarly surprised at this admission. How could he not know? You glance back at Ellie who looks somber.

“I love that idea,” you enthuse. “I never liked my birthday. I think I’ll move mine to the summer so it’s always sunny when I celebrate. I guess you’ll have to make me a cake for mine, Ellie, so you better start practicing.”

Ellie grins over at you as you stick a fork into your piece of cake, the tension broken. The three of you are quiet as you savor the burst of flavor on your tongues.

“This is so good,” Ellie enthuses. “Way better than anything in the dining hall.”

You smile into your cake, flushing at the praise.

“So aside from a tattoo what would you want for your birthday?” Joel asks Ellie, his soulful eyes sincere. In moments like this you can see so clearly that he is a father, and a dedicated one at that. If Ellie asked for the moon you have no doubt he’d manage it.

“I wanna see a dinosaur,” Ellie replies seriously. “Or see space like in those books you got me.”

"Time travel," Joel nods, grinning. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The three of you chat casually about things in town, about Ellie and school until your plates are empty and Ellie is announcing she’s full after her third piece.

 Before you can start helping with the dishes she has your wrist in your grasp and is announcing to Joel that you and her are going to do girl stuff so he needs to leave you both alone. Joel hides the amusement in his features, nodding as you’re dragged away.

She pulls you into her bedroom, closing the door and motioning for you to follow her. You smile at her, feeling a bit of that sisterly affection flow through you as you watch her pace around her room, looking for something. She moves things on her shelves as she talks to you over her shoulder.

"Are you going to the party with that guy you're always with?" 

"Luke?" 

"Yeah that sounds right. Is he your boyfriend?"

Your eyes fly wide before you give an awkward chuckle. 

"No. Not my boyfriend."

"But you want him to be?"

"I don't really know," you answer honestly, fingers trailing along the edge of her desk. “Jennifer keeps trying to get us alone together.”

Ellie makes a face at this, halfway between exasperation and disgust as she throws back the pillows she moved. It makes you giggle but then feel guilty because Jennifer is truly one of the best people you know. 

"Why do you dislike her so much?"

"I dunno," Ellie shrugs her left shoulder. "Just think she's phony is all. Just like Diana."

"I used to think that too," you tell her honestly. "Jennifer suprised me though. I think you'd like her if you gave her a chance, Diana too."

Ellie just shrugs again, hands in the pocket of her jeans in a way that is all Joel. So much of her is, from her scowl to the way she sticks her lower lip out in thought. She looks over at her dresser, eyes brightening.

“That’s where I left it.”

You watch as she pulls out a dark blue ribbon holding it in front of her.

"I never pictured you as a ribbons in your hair kind of person," you tell her honestly. 

"I'm not." She hands the ribbon to you. “It’s for you. It’ll look nice in your hair.”

You’re touched by this, taking the ribbon, fingers dancing along the frayed edges. It’s a midnight blue, the deep of an ocean. You smile at her gratefully before pocketing it.

“Thanks Ellie, but it’s your birthday you’re the one that should be getting presents.”

“I got enough tonight,” Ellie says, looking away from you shyly. She strides over to the bookshelf, bringing out a book you didn't see during your last visit here. She holds it up to you as you approach. 

"Did you ever read this one? Joel says it's a good one." 

Charlotte's Web. 

You feel your stomach churning the longer you look at the title. The pale watercolor girl and pig. 

"Yeah," you say in a quiet voice. "It's a good one." 

Ellie nods, looking back at it before tossing it onto her bed, obviously her evening reading. She's quiet for a few moments, contemplating something before gazing over at you. 

"Don't tell Joel I'm thinking of going to the party. He'll just make a big deal about it."

You smile, touched by her trust in you. 

"Our secret."

///

When the moon hangs low in the sky and the world feels quiet you find yourself under the big window in your bedroom sitting under a knitted blanket, eyes wide. Your pupils look like little moons themselves, eclipsed when the reflection is shifted as you tilt your head. 

You've always loved looking at the moon. Unlike the sun that can be harsh and unforgiving, the moon is calm solemnity. It's quiet and forgiving. It bathes you in a soft glow and your neighborhood in a quiet still. 

You realize that being with Joel is like being exposed in the sun. Often harsh, unforgiving rays that burn your skin, but when it's warm and gentle attention is on you it's so enticing you want to bask in it. It's not as if you actually enjoy his company. He's fucking insufferable. It's because he withholds so much that when he finally relents and allows a bit of softness to trickle through it's like a stream you want to drown in. 

You were always been the one who wanted to befriend the feral cat, to earn their affection, to let them know you could be trusted. You suppose that must translate into this life now, a desire to tame the wild. 

And now you sit in the night, gazing at darkness, lost in thought. Tonight is one of those nights, the kind where your mind won’t quiet and the world seems more confusing than normal.

Sometimes on these nights under the moon you watch people wander up and down the streets. The night owls that aren't bidden by a clock like the rest of the town. But it’s almost three in the morning and the streets are empty.

It leaves you with nothing but your increasingly frenzied thoughts because if you focus you can still feel the sensation of Joel’s wide fingers buried in your cunt, the rasp of his warm breath on your neck, the husky urging of his rumbling voice telling you to come for him.

I know what you feel like when you're close. Don’t fight it.

Be a good girl and do it.

Give it to me. S’mine

You could write it off as nothing but lust but then dinner with Ellie? It had been a softening, a sweetness you peeked through the cracks of his hard planes. You’d seen love in his eyes for her, compassion for you. And above all you’d felt safety there in his home, a brief flash of it before your past memories caught up with you, nipping at your heels. Then the sensation of his hands moving your hair over your shoulder, the touch all tender and asking nothing in return but your honesty.

Joel Miller confuses you.

And then like some phantom you see him.

He’s there amongst the dreary wet snow, walking – well, stumbling slowly towards your home. He must have been at the Bison – he has the look of a man who’s had one too many, something you’ve never truly witnessed in him before.

You tense up, watching him in your window, knowing he can’t see you in the darkness but still paranoid he’ll sense you. With the moon high in the sky you can see him perfectly, the blue-black shape of his broad body and soft curls. You see when he comes to stand in the center of the street and you inhale softly when his eyes fix on your bedroom window.

He stands there for several minutes just staring, sort of wobbling from foot to foot. For some reason his presence compels you into pulling on a robe and rushing downstairs. Your blood is roaring in your ears and you know your pulse is doing its own little tap dance but it doesn’t stop you from jerking open the door.

"Joel?"

Joel is standing on your porch now with his dark eyes squinting against the light from your home shining out behind you. 

"Joel, it's three am."

Joel just stares at you, a long lingering thing. Something about the intensity of it makes any further remarks die on your tongue. Why did you come down here? Why did you open the door? Why did you invite this awkward moment into your life?

Joel stands there with glassy eyes fixed on your face. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets and for a moment you worry something might actually be wrong. You pull your robe tighter around you before you take a step towards him.

"Joel are you-"

You go silent when he holds up a hand in front of him, palm facing you, silently asking you to stop talking. 

"Just ..." he trails off, voice thick with sleep and alcohol. 

He makes no move to come closer, no attempt to touch you. He just stares at you a few more minutes and then with a satisfied little nod to himself he walks off your porch and into the night. You watch him trail down your steps and then his long legs carry him in the direction of Rancher Street.

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

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Tease Tidbit Tuesday!!

Tagged by @tizniz @inell who both shared WONDERFUL stuff y'all should absolutely show some love!! 💜🩷

This wip is both heaven and hell for me. It's new territory, but I really want to write it. I shared a little bit in Screenshot Friday, and a few of y'all did see what it was 😁. For some insane reason, I'm writing a time loop fic for 7x04. Why did I do this to myself? I don't know. But I'm having a lot of fun with it so far. Shockingly, I have more of the ending than the actual plot written so... 😅. Slow going. Oh well! Have some of what happens in loop one, during my favorite part of the episode:

"Well listen, I- I think it's great..." Just like in his dream, he trips over his words. He doesn't know why. He's had the stutter his whole life. It only comes out when he's really excited or really nervous (see also: fucking terrified). He's not either of those things now, so why does it feel like he's forcing the words out? His crush on Tommy shouldn't be affecting him this much. First the hangar and now this? Get a grip, Buckley, it's not that deep. Eddie looks up at him with a raised brow. Fuck, he noticed. Buck does his best to cover up... whatever it is he's trying to hide: "you know? You- you can't have enough friends, right?" Eddie smiles at that, a small and proud thing, and Buck is proud of him. He's come so far in his healing and he's finally allowing himself to be happy. Buck should be ecstatic! But... Why does he have to be so happy with Tommy? “Right,” Eddie says before looking away. “Y’know, it's like that thing when you meet somebody and you just… click. Y’know what I mean?” Something squeezes painfully in Buck's chest. For a split second, he thinks he's having another embolism. But his blood keeps pumping, his heart keeps beating… and cracks a little at his words. It's not a dig, surely not. Eddie wouldn't… But then, he has been all over creation with Tommy the last few weeks. Maybe they do click better than Buck ever could. With either of them. “I do,” he says once he unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “I really do.”

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[thisonehere]

Vampire Shang Tsung,Vampire Liu Kang x male reader? :33

Monstrous Gods

MK1 vampire headcanons

A/n: This was so exciting to write. It's kind of funny, Liu is struggling to except his new reality and Tsungs wilding out over in the corner lol.

Tags: NSFW, Request, "light" smut

C/W: Mention of a dead body, blood sucking, biting, hickeys, slapping, mentions of sex, stalking

Liu Kang

Liu Kang was as everyone knew him, the kind, handsome hero who always protects the realms and oversees the timeline alongside Getas. But none knew what was beyond those dazzling eyes, what he was doing in the night

How? How did this become of me? Liu Kang wonders as he clutches at his mouth as drops of blood drips from his lips, a dead monk drained of his blood lies at his feet.

How many more people will he hurt because of this disease inside of him? It's ironic, he was a noble warrior who fought for the innocent. Now he's a vampire who feeds off those innocents to survive. He was scared, how many more will he hurt? What will Geras do if he catches wind of this? Raiden? Kitana? Everyone else he loves?

He grows even more terrified when he lays eyes on you. He can't stop thinking about you, your smile, you laugh, you succulent neck no doubt filled with so much blood. While he smiles and converses with you, flashes of his lips wrapped around your neck and his teeth sunk into your blood stream.

Your blood must be so warm, so sweet, so-No! Liu snaps out of it. His hunger was awakening a strange and primitive desire in him which makes whom sometimes almost lose control.

"Liu Kang, What's wrong?" You ask out of concern from the way he was staring at you and flinching. He lips spread in to a smile, a glint of terror behind his eyes, "I am well, Y/n. Please, excuse me, I..I-I must go." He says he suddenly vanished the way only a titan can.

Liu Kang begins to spiral as time goes on, but he somehow manages to maintain the image of serenity and calm, especially around you, considering how it was to control himself around you. He just wants to take in his arms and go feral with you.

Things get worse when you two get into a relationship. You don't know how dangerous you're in sometimes. As Liu smiles and you assume he's just staring loving at you, he is, but he also is having thoughts of sucking your blood as he made love to you.

Images of your lifeless body flashes before him in rapid succession almost everyday to the point that Liu is almost in tears.

You take early have sex, Liu inside that you take him in doggy style, him facing away from you makes it easier to resist the urge of ripping your neck clean open. "Faster, my sweet boy, harder. Please, harder." He says he often will insist you get rough when you're inside of him. He often requests that you're rough with him, he feels guilty for keeping his secret and he feels the need to be wished.

May the elder gods be with you whenever he's on top, a rare occurrence but when he is, he goes insane, your head is often buried in the mattress to let out your screams. Liu loses control, he bites at you, he tears at you flesh and enjoys your pain in a sadistic way. You're so overwhelmed with pleasure and pain to notice him sucking your blood. When he's finished he stares down in horror at what he just did to you. "By the Elders Gods, Y/n, I'm so sorry."

Liu Kang cannot describe the agony he feels for putting you through so much. He loves you yet he's hurting you. He realizes for your safety that he will have to leave you, avoid you at all costs. He has to break your heart to save you.

"Liu?" You ask gently, giving a concerned look as you know him out of his deep thoughts. Liu loses himself in your eyes and forgets his internal anguish. "It's nothing, Y/n, all is well...I love you...and everything will be okay."

He'll break things off with you...soon...soon...h-he promises.

Shang Tsung

It is far from anyone with common sense's surprise that that happened to Tsung. He is man who just loves messing with the dark and twisted.

This no doubt happened because of a failed science experiment or coming across a poor unsuspecting vampire and using their DNA on himself to an unknown end. It doesn't matter all that does is that he is a vampire now and everyone should be worried.

Especially you. An innocent man with an innocent smile, Shang's favorite. The moment you come across his radar is the moment you can just say goodbye to your safety and sanity.

When he's not attacking innocents and sucking every last bit of their bodily fluids out of them until they're shrivelled up, he obsesses over you. He'd follow you everywhere unbeknownst to you, he'd basically salivate when he caught just the whiff of your scent, you just entice him in ways that he cannot describe. He especially found you adorable when you're asleep, that's why he sneaks into your room and just stares at you as you snore.

It drives him mad whenever he gets just a peak of your neck, the blood flowing through just has to be perfect, nectar of the gods, just one sip would grant him a describable state of pleasure he down it. What made him more pleased was the sight of you squirming and crying as he sucked you dry of your bodily fluids.

Eventually he grows tired of such stalking you and describes to just make a move. You didn't stand a chance against his charm and charisma, also you felt seen by him. Like he's known for a long time.

Being with him feels like paradise, it's like he knows everything about you. He knows what your favorite food is, your hobbies, your favorite position in sex. You just get butterflies in your stomach the way you look at you, especially your neck. He seems never much obsessed with your neck. He enjoys giving you hickeys, choking you, even biting you a little. It doesn't matter, it's all hot so you refuse to question it.

You do find it strange that he knows where and how you like it during sex. He calls you the pet names you love though you never told him. But you often forget these strange things when he thrusts into you. He does it at the pace you like and he isn't shy at getting rough, he pulls your hair and slapping you. "Oh, you're such a good boy." He says with a. Smile as he looks down at the flustered and broken mess he often leaves you in.

He also lets you top him, but somehow he manages to keep control of you the entire time. But you hardly ever notice it. "Harder, you're a strong boy, I know you can give it to me."

You and Shang spend a lot of time together, especially at midnight. You two often talk about your hopes and dreams. You talk about your dream jobs, he talks about his desires of corrupting this world and bringing Liu Kang to his knees. Weird, but you're in cloud 9 so you don't really care. Everything just feels so right.

But soon the illusions of paradise give way to reveal the true hell that you're in.

He begins to get more and more rough with you, biting into you more and more aggressively, isolating you from all your love ones.

He chooses to drop the charades and reveals to you that he's a vampire. He also reveals that he's done something to you as well. He turned into something that was not quite a vampire but no longer human. Now you're bound to him for all eternity in some vampiric blood bondage.

Because of this, he's less scared of losing you. This he becomes far more controlling and manipulative towards you. He lets an entire Pandora's box worth of toxic behaviors and doesn't show any shame for his new treatment of you, you'll always come running back.

He gets worse and worse towards you, taking delight in every anguish he puts you through even if it's small. Things have gotten so bad that he leaves you two choices. Except for things and try to persevere...or drive a stack through his heart.

[penwieldingdreamer]

Love Confessions and other truths

Whoa, this one got out of hand I guess.

Thank you everyone for the likes, comments and reblogs. This fandom has given me so much joy and inspiration and he's definitely hard to resist not to write for.

As you know, I tried to keep the appearance and description of the reader as vauge as possible, you guys will be able to come up with your own picture for the reader, only thing I pictured: female reader, living in London with her british mother and american father, single mother of two girls Lottie (5) and Millie (3), and two years older than Austin.

Summary: Austin confesses his feelings for you, but you keep the truths about your feelings under wraps, until friends come up with good intentions and meddle in your relationship.

Words: 5.6k

Warnings: fluff, some swear words, maybe a few tippos - if so, please let me know

Happy reading and enjoy. And please let me know what you think, if you want to be tagged or taken off the taglist for this.

Dividers @cafekitsune

Tagging: @sqrlgrl22 @buckysteveloki-me @rlinda6 @imusicaddict @fortheloveoffanfic @unicoreads

Dec. 2022

With a groan you pulled yourself up on the couch, your leg propped up on a mass of pillows. 

“You doing okay, baby?” 

Were you okay? You didn't really know. A few days ago you injured yourself walking home from the store down the road from your flat. Winter had taken hold of the city and the streets were very slippery. Of course you thought your running shoes were enough to last that short walk. 

Well, your bandaged knee and ankle spoke for themselves. The ice patch had you out of commission for the time being, thankfully you only twisted your ankle and partially tore your ACL. It was dumb and unnecessary, but a few weeks and you'd be good as new. 

“Hurts like hell, but it's better than yesterday.”

Your mother leaned over and laid a kiss on your hair. She had been helping you with the girls, keeping them occupied and stopped them from running up the wall. “It's only a few more days. Doctor Burnes said you'll be able to walk better by next week, just keep it elevated for now and take your pain meds.”

“Hm, yeah, by next year I'll be a normally functioning human again.” It was a joke but also a semblance of truth. 

Only a few more days and you'd ring in 2023. Hopefully a better one than the last. With Trevor finally paying on time, Lottie still having fun at school and Millie enjoying her time at Kindergarten.

“How's Austin? I haven't heard from him in a while.” She asked, busying herself in the kitchen.

Last you heard he had told you that he was busy with pre awards parties and dinners and planned to go on a trip with Kaia during the holidays. “Don't know, you probably should ask the girls, they've been keeping tabs on him. I just provide the source to let them talk with him.”

Chuckling, your mother shook her head. “They really love him, huh? He's great with the girls.”

“They do. If he's not calling every third day, Lottie takes my phone and calls him herself.”

Your mother had listened to the excited squeals of your daughters when they had their evening calls with the actor. Once she had asked you about your feelings towards him, treading dangerously but you shut her down really quick. He was in a relationship, younger than you and you definitely didn't want to jump into another relationship, even if your last had been years ago.

Was this really what you wanted? 

Every time you talked to Austin, you felt your insides flutter like millions of butterflies. 

No, he's happy with Kaia, with his career. He doesn't need you to distract from all this.

“Mummy, mummy, mummy! Look it's Austin!” Lottie ran towards you, jumping onto the couch and hitting a painful spot on your knee. Her eyes widened as she heard your gasp and shrank back from you. “Careful baby, your mum isn't in the best shape right now.” Your mother reprimanded gently and you saw your daughter’s lips tremble slightly, the phone in her hand to show Austin watching attentively over the FaceTime app.

 “I'm sorry mummy, I didn't mean to hurt you.”

You pulled her back against your side, sitting up on the couch so you were propped upright again instead of laying down. Kissing her hair and breathing in her scent, that still reminded you of the time she was a baby, you brushed your hand along her back. “I'll be okay, baby, now what's this about Austin calling?”

“Hey darlin’, you doin’ okay all the way over there on that island?” 

You knew he was trying to keep in all the questions he had when he heard your mother and Lottie talk, but even as good as an actor he was, he couldn't keep the concern shining in his ocean blue eyes.

“I'll be fine, Aus, nothing a few days rest and a hearty meal won't fix.”

Squinting, he shook his dark blonde locks, giving you a disapproving look. “Lottie said you fell, hurt your knee and ankle.”

“Don't worry about it. My mum is helping out for the time being, keeping the girls entertained and me off my feet.” You sent him a reassuring smile, playing with Lottie's locks. “How are you? Are you taking care of yourself?”

“Hmm, yeah. It's warm, the sun’s shining and I'm relaxing at the beach.”

Your daughter giggled at his playful retort, her body jumping so hard, you had to hold onto her so she wouldn't fall off the couch and hit her head. “Austin! You're so funny. He's so funny mummy, right!”

Humming, you nodded your head, but you saw dark shadows under his eyes, not from lack of sleep but from his anxiety and his brain turning in a million directions as he once told you. “Why don't you help granny while I talk to Austin for a minute. You can come back and show him what decorations Millie and you made for Christmas. How's that sound sweetheart?”

With a deep sigh she nodded her head and skipped into the kitchen, telling your mother that you sent her away to have a grown up talk with Austin.

“She's getting quite sassy for her age.” The actor commented, sitting back on the lounge chair in the cabana, the blue shirt he wore pulled down at the neck to reveal a sliver of his chest making you swallow against the dryness of your throat.

“She is. Seems to be your influence because she never acted like that before she met you.” You accused with a smile before turning serious again. “Now what's this about? Shouldn't you be enjoying your mini getaway with your lovely girlfriend before the award marathon?”

Nodding his head, he put his arm behind his head, leaning his phone against his propped up leg. His free hand scratched along his chin and you knew with whatever in his mind right now, Austin wasn't enjoying his time with Kaia. 

“I've got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Want to talk about it? You know, I've got time before dinner.”

A mixture between a groan and a sigh left his lips as he stared into your eyes, making your insides twist with something you hadn't felt in so long, something warm and soothing. “I think I'm stuck in a kind of predicament.”

“Okay, something with your next project? Or the upcoming awards?”

“No,” Austin shook his head. “It's you.”

Wide eyes stared at him as you tried to comprehend what the actor just told you. “M-me? I mean, why?”

“I've been thinking about you and I can't stop it. I should be happy with Kaia, but all I'm thinking about is if I'd have a chance with you, if you'd be my girl and I'd get to call the girls and you my family.”

You shook your head in denial. His confession was making your head spin. You were friends, nothing more. “Austin, you, you've got Kaia, it's not fair to her. I, this can't happen, I'm sorry.”

His hand tightened in his sandy blond locks, trying desperately to keep his composure and you knew his anxiety was ready to make itself known. “I know. I tried so fucking hard. But God forbid, I want you… so much.”

“This…Austin, it’s…I can’t, I’m really sorry. I can only be your friend,” You felt the burn behind your eyes, the tears building up and threatening to make you blind. Yet you refused to let them fall. The crestfallen look on his face made your heart ache but you knew there was no way a relationship would work at the moment. “You need to focus on your career on all those amazing projects you’ll be able to make and we can’t distract you.”

Shaking his head, Austin sat up again, his phone now close to his face and you saw the tears building in his own eyes. He was an amazing actor and yet he could be read so easily. “I can focus on my career with you. I want you, I want the girls, I want everything!”

With each word his voice got louder, until he nearly screamed it for everyone to hear. You could make out a shadowy figure at his side and swallowed thickly. Probably not the best topic to talk about when his girlfriend was just a few feet away and they should be happily engaged in other activities during their couples time.

“I can be friend, Austin, nothing more. You want to talk to the girls? They made Christmas decorations with Elvis on their stars.” He nodded his head, brushing his long fingers under his eyes and you could feel the dredd pool deep in your stomach. Keeping the sniffles to yourself until you were safely tucked away in the bathroom, you called Lottie and Millie and with some grunting and heaving, you managed to get off the couch.

Your mother's eyes followed you before you pushed out your daughters’ excited squeals and Austin’s playful responses. 

Your heart ached and you felt your stomach clench, thinking back on his words. 

What had you gotten yourself into?

He was an amazing guy but you feared you weren't the right one for him. 

Putting your hand over your mouth, you tried to muffle your sniffles, the tears wetting your cheeks on the way down as you felt your heart shattering.

“So, she said No?”

Before he called you, Austin had finally sat down with Kaia and discussed what had been plaguing him the last few months.

He knew it wasn't fair to be with her and think about the what ifs of you being there.

Of course she wasn't happy, their relationship lasting not even a year, but the model had already seen a change in him. She was sad and cried when they talked but knew neither of them would be happy if they continued like they did.

So they agreed to end it there on their mini getaway, agreeing to be better off as friends, still supporting the other on their dreams.

Kaia sat on the end of the lounge right at his feet. She leaned on his knee, watching Austin closely. He always wears his heart on his sleeve and she could see the defeated look all over his face.

“I'm sorry.” Pushing the heels of his hands against his eyes, he tried to keep.the tears at bay, being the sensitive man he was. “She told him she could be my friend, but nothing more.”

“She's lying.” She finally mused, thinking back on what she heard you say during the call. “She was ready to break down and admit it, Aus.”

Pursing his lips the actor watched his girlfriend, well ex closely. “But she said”

“It's not what she said, it's what she didn't say. The way she behaved.” Kaia sent him a smile. “She's just as in love with you as you are with her. No woman in her right mind wouldn't be in love with you. I mean look at me, we had a great time together.”

Awkwardly scratching his fingers along his chin, the actor breathed out a sigh. He was loath to admit that it had been an amazing time with her but life was throwing him curve balls left and right it seemed. “I'm thankful for our time together and I'm sorry for the way this played out, but I”

“We're staying friends, Aus, I'm not letting you off that easily. I'll be helping you get your girl, besides maybe that way mom will be distracted the next time I FaceTime her and the girls to ask me when I'll be deciding to grace the world with little Crawford models.”

“Oh god.” He chuckled, throwing his head back with a laugh. “Please don't. Enjoy what you're doing right now. You'll know when you find the right guy.”

Kaia hummed, drawing an invisible pattern on his propped up knee. “I thought that was you, but you know the last few months we've both been so focused on our career and things we both clearly have different thoughts about, that it hasn't felt like in the beginning. And I guess ending this while we can is the best decision for us.”

“I'll have to talk to Kate, make sure there's no dumb rumors circling and we get a joint statement out there to keep it as low as possible.” His free hand gently brushed along her shoulder, before settling on her back and drawing Kaia into a tight hug. “You don't know how much this means to me. The last time, with Nessa, being friendly wouldn't have been possible.”

The model reached her hand up, brushing a stray tear away that had slowly made its way down his cheek. “Have you been able to talk to her at all? Clear it up after all that time?”

He shook his head. “Honestly, I don't know what I would tell her, she didn't want to listen the first time and I guess she's happy now. Why wake sleeping dogs when you can keep the peace?”

“Well, that is a good reason…for now.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Let's focus on your darlin’ and how to get her to admit she is head over heels for you.” Winking, Kaia got up and moved inside the villa they had rented for the week, determined to get her mission, to shove you into his arms, started.

If there was one woman she was going to step aside for it was you. She had known you had feelings for Austin for a while but you never acted on them and she had to give it to you: for her you were more sister and close friend than some of her friends in LA.

Feb. 2023

“Hey, Ash. How's everyone? How's my favorite niece?”

The corners of his mouth raised up at the light chuckles coming from his phone. Austin was back in London for another night of awards. He still couldn't believe he had won all those awards like the People's Choice or Golden Globe and gotten nominations for Elvis alone. Hell, he was nominated for the BAFTA and the Oscar. This was beyond anything he ever thought and yet, looking out over Hyde Park he felt his gut churning. He wished he could talk to his mom, to Lisa-Marie who had given him so much strength before he lost her suddenly a few weeks ago. She had the same calming energy as his mom and after getting to know her he was drawn to her, happy for every moment he shared with Elvis’ only child. 

You still hadn't stopped seeing him as just a friend, calling him and congratulating on his win, listening to him when he got the news of Lisa's passing. He didn't think it possible but he fell even more and Austin wasn't sure he'd be able to recover easily.

“She's your only niece for now but Juju is doing great, really everyone is.” Ashley told him with a grin. “How're you Mr. Golden Globe winner? Heard your in the run for a BAFTA and Oscar.”

“It's unbelievable, I…phew, still can't believe it. I called Nessa, I wanted to talk to her and…thank her, you know, for what she did back then. Didn't want her to just read it in the press. I-I wished mom could be here. And Lisa.” 

His eyes watered. Austin had so many moments he was taking on alone again. Kaia was back in LA filming while juggling the runway as well but she loved it and every time they talked he could hear the lightness in her voice. 

“I'm sorry Aus, you know they're hella proud of you. Your mom is always there, Juju was in the garden a few days ago and this huge butterfly just plopped down on her nose and I knew Lori was there looking after her. And I bet Lisa will shine down on you as well. You made something really special.” She pulled him out of his dark thoughts, the small smile returning to his plumb lips. “And I'm sorry about Kaia, I know you guys were super happy. But you're still friends right? Are you going to be okay, want to talk about it?”

“Hm, yeah, I think so. Right now I wished I wasn't going alone tonight.” 

Humming, the actress sent him a smile. “You're not alone, babe. Baz is there and Kate, she'll make sure everything goes smoothly.”

Running his hand through his hair, Austin sat down on the plush settee in front of the bed. “I know, it's not them, it's…I'm grateful for them but there's, I wished she was there with me.”

“Oh!” Ashley's eyes widened with a grin spreading on her lips. “You still haven't gotten further with her?”

“No,” he sighed. “I even sent her love songs, ones I sang myself, tried to talk to her again when I called the girls, but she's insistent.”

“Don't worry, she'll come around.” The actress winked and Austin racked his brain about what she was going on about. He hoped she wasn't doing something he might regret in the end.

“Good morning my little poppets, I come bearing breakfast.” Your father called in his fake british accent from the front door of your flat. Your daughters squeals erupted with shouts of grandpa and you watched them run around, laughing softly at their antics. Your mother helped you in the kitchen, preparing the cake for Millies's birthday the next day.

“She's so excited for tomorrow.” Your mother laughed, mixing the cake batter and winking at you.

“That she is. She can't wait to be four, kept asking me when it was time for bed so her birthday would come sooner.” Chuckling, the two of you glanced back at the doorway waiting for your rugrats and your father.

“Mommy! Look what grandpa brought me!” Lottie called running over to you, holding up an Elvis coloring book. Your father followed closely with your youngest propped up on his hip. Somehow you had a feeling her obsession with the King of Rock'n'Roll was only fueled by Austin and your father. 

“Found it in that web shop and she wouldn't shut up about this Austin being Elvis in that new movie, so I thought I'd do ya a favor. That way she'll keep quiet for some time as well.” He ruffled her hair and grinned down at his oldest granddaughter.

Shaking your head, you were just about to retort when your phone chimed with a new message. You guessed it was Austin, telling you he had arrived safely at his hotel and was preparing to surprise Millie tomorrow with a visit.

Meet me at the Four Seasons. It's important. K

Kaia? Why was she…You hoped Austin was okay. You hoped she was okay. Of course you had read the news on their break-up, feeling guilty about it all and you knew Austin’s decision on that but you wanted to talk to her, explaining that you never intended, never encouraged him to start feeling anything for you. 

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you casually replied and asked her when she wanted to meet you. The reply was immediate and you felt that gut wrenching anxiety.

Was she going to blame you for the break-up? Oh god, this wasn’t going to end well.

Get here as soon as you can. K

And you did. You had asked your parents to watch the girls, not knowing how long the talk with Austin’s ex would take and what she really wanted. Anything was possible. Kaia had always been super nice to you and the girls, but there was no way of knowing if her thoughts about you had changed now after the end of their relationship.

So, you made your way inside the hotel, hands clammy and knees chittery from the dark thoughts swirling inside your head. The front desk loomed over you and you raked your brain on how to approach this, they probably wouldn’t just let anybody know information on

“Hey, Y/N.”  

Turning around with a soft gasp, you saw Kaia sitting together with two women watching expectantly. Taking a deep breath you clutched your bag tightly, a lifeline if you will and suddenly you felt stupid for being overly dramatic but you couldn’t help it. “H-Hey, Kaia. I’m sorry, I came as fast as I could and well, honestly I don’t know why I’m here, but I’m really sorry and I never meant”

She giggled softly, stopping your rambling and put her arm around your shoulder to pull you over, sitting with her and the women. “God, you’re such a sweetheart. I’m not mad. I was bummed, sure, but I guess we wanted different things in life so it’s all good.”

“But you, you said it was important and I thought you were going to hate me and I’m rambling again, sorry, I’m just nervous.”

Chuckling, one of the women got up and offered her hand. “I’m Sandra and this lovely lady is Sofia. Kaia asked us to get you ready for your date with Austin.”

Wide eyes turned to the model, your hand tightly gripping the offered appendage. “M-My date? I don’t…I think you’re mistaken. There was never any word about a date, besides we’re not even a couple.”

“Yet and yes, you’ll be going on an awards date. Aus has been moping the last two and a half months and to be honest, I want cheery, cheeky Austin back as my friend. So, we’re going to doll you up and I definitely know you’re going to blow him away.” She smirked at you, grabbing your arm and pulling you along to the elevators. 

“But” Your protests were cut short as the doors closed and the four of you made your way to Kaia’s hotel room. With it still being morning, Sandra told you there was enough time to get ready without any kind of stressing out - at least time wise, inside your brain was another story. You kind of felt like the girl from that Disney movie Inside Out. So many feelings at once.

“Right, so Austin is still up in his room, Tom and Jamie are going to join him later, we’ll be down here and get you ready. If you want you can take a shower first, relax a little and calm down.” The model suggested grabbing the champagne bottle from the large table inside her room - well more like a suite, if you were asked.

“I-I need to call my mum, she’s taking care of the girls right now. I thought I’d not be longer than an hour if you let me live.” You shrugged, anxiously biting off the skin on your finger.

Sofia grabbed your hand and pulled it away from your mouth. “Stop that, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“So you say. You guys are gorgeous looking with killer bodies. Those dresses belong on you, not little ol’ me.” Your shoulders slumped. “The last time I remotely dressed up was for a date a year ago and the only positive thing he said to me was that my eyes were looking a bit tired and I should make sure to get enough sleep. I haven’t seen the inside of a gym for over three and a half years when I tried to train off all that baby weight and then just gave up. My ass is too big, my boobs are saggy and”

“And you have two wonderful kids that you love to bits. You look gorgeous with the right tool, believe me. Me looking like that is the combination of good genes and hard work.” Kaia pointed to herself. “There’s days I’m super happy to just sit down, doing nothing and enjoying the greasiest food I can get. But then I remember I have to get back to the Fashion shows.”

Taking a deep breath you nodded your head. “I still need to call my parents.”

“I’ll do that, you take a shower and drink that glass of champagne, believe me, it works wonders.” Kaia suggested, pushing you towards the en-suite and taking your bag. “Now, chop chop, we haven’t got all day.”

After your shower, Jamie, Austin’s hairstylist sat you down in front of the large vanity, all tools and makeup stashed on the table. You couldn't remember if you ever dreamed of something like this - your wedding maybe, but on a day like today, definitely not.

“What do you think about this one?” Sandra held up a gorgeous tulle dress, long sleeved and rhinestones all over. It was perfect, just not for you.

Shaking your head, you forgot Jamie was still fighting with your hair. She had been adamant that the last time a female sat in her chair had been back when she was training. The pull on your temples as she combed it was enough of a reprimand to sit still.

“It's the fourth dress you said no to. What is wrong with this one?” The stylist sighed and turned to Kaia who was shrugging her shoulders, obviously giving up on reasoning right now. “The first”

“My boobs are to big for that one.”

“Why do you think I've got Boob-Tape? The next was too low cut, the slit on the other one too high.”

“I just, I don't think this is me. Can't it be just a simple black dress, no fancy feathers, stones or whatever. For all I care, run down to Primark and get me a slip dress and I'd be fine with that.”

Sofia gave you a stern look, brandishing her powder brush as if it was a weapon to hit some sense into you. “Absolutely not. You're going to be the dame of the ball, you hear me. Everybody will be so jealous Austin is having you in his arms.”

Taking a deep breath you reminded yourself that the four women wouldn't let you say anything else. So you sat and let them flit about and do their thing.

“Okay, I've got one more dress, if you don't wear that, you'll have to walk about in your underwear.” Sandra smirked at you, holding up a black evening gown. “I think this one will be what you want. It’s Saint Laurent and paired with those gorgeous black Jimmy Choo heels you’ll look amazing.”

Your fingers brushed along the dress, feeling the cool silk underneath, that’s when you saw the back. The fabric was bound together in the back but if you wore that, you’d not be able to wear a bra. “My boobs are going to fall out of this one.” You moaned looking at the stylist and the model.

“Nope, that’s where the boob-tape comes in. Now let Jamie and Sofia swing their magic wands and get you in this dress ASAP.” Sandra commented, winking at you.

Kaia chuckled next to her, taking a sip of the coffee room service had brought half an hour ago. “You know, that sounded a bit dirty right there, Sandy.”

An hour later you found yourself at the back entrance, hair and makeup on point, pictures taken for your parents and hands clutching the bag like a rope. Kaia smiled at you, her arm linked with your own. “You, you're going to come with me, right?”

“I'll be at the show, but I'm taking a different car.”

Panic seized you, gripping her hand so tight she winced slightly. “I can't go there alone, I don't even what to do.”

Shaking her head, Kaia pulled you into a hug. “You'll be fine, I promise. Now get in the car, Austin will be in in a second.”

“Aus” Your eyes widened, but she already shoved you inside the car. Swallowing against the dryness of your throat you leaned back into the seat. Even sitting down you felt like your knees were going to give away. Then the door on the other side opened and you felt your heart stutter. He looked so handsome in his suit and bow tie.

“Darlin’?” He smiled, his hand reaching for you. “I, what are you doing here?”

“I-I, Kaia, she said I should meet her here and then suddenly they were on me, dressing me up and telling me I was your date for tonight.”

Austin's smile widened as he leaned closer. “I'm not complaining at all, but, are you okay!”

“I don't know.” You shrugged, grabbing his hand in yours and giving it a light squeeze. Thank god the privacy screen was up or you probably wouldn’t have had the courage to talk with him right now. “I keep thinking that I might have hit my head, that maybe Kaia really hated me and I'm up in that room and wake up soon.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I assure you, you're very awake. Because if you aren't then I'm asleep as well and it would be such an amazing dream.” Leaning in, his lips brushed against your cheek. 

“I'm sorry about before.” Your eyes watered, leaning your forehead against his own, the fingers of your free hand brushing along his chin, the light stubble scratching your palm. “Truth is, I never wanted to fall in love with you. I loved before and was hurt badly in the process. But you were so different and you were in a relationship. Your a celebrity, I'm just me, I'm a nobody. And the girls, they are my world and you were the only one putting them first, not even their own father does that.”

His Adam's apple bopped and you could see his emotions swirling in his ocean eyes. “You're not a nobody, darlin’, you're somebody to me and if I'm honest with you, I never wantesnto fall in love with you either but Lottie and Millie made it hard not to fall in love and in the end all I wanted was the three of you with me.”

Your eyes flitted between his eyes and plush lips, the butterflies dancing inside your belly until you used all your courage and sealed your lips with his, no thought left to the carefully applied lip gloss Sofia used on you. It had taken you months to admit to yourself what you really wanted and now you finally found it. 

Austin's arms wound around your waist, pulling you closer, only just stopping before you straddled his waist. He moaned into his mouth, your arms slinging around his shoulder, fingers playing with the hair in his neck.

“I love you, Austin and I'm sorry I tried to push you away.” You confessed, breaking the kiss.

“I'm happy, you came to your senses. You’ll be my lucky charm tonight.” 

Smirking, your fingers brushing over his lips, taking away the gloss you left there with your kiss. “I'll try to be the best lucky charm you can have.”

“The best and everyone will be jealous of me having the most beautiful woman of the night in my arms.” Chuckling, Austin’s hand moved up along your bare back. “I love that dress.”

“Hm, I think I like it as well.” You had to give it to Sandra, she was a master of her art. She truly made you irresistible to him. "Oh, you want to call the girls before you head off to the carpet?"

“Yes, I missed them today.”

He brushed his lips against your temple, leaning against you as you grabbed your phone from the clutch his stylist grabbed for you.

“Mummy! Austin!” Lottie called loudly, jumping off the sofa to sit next to her little sister who was coloring a page of her Elvis coloring book. “Granny said you were going to a party tonight and we could stay up to watch you win that award.”

“Lottie, I don't think that's what granny really meant.” You admonished, but knew they'd probably be too tired to watch it all once the ceremony started.

“Right, little lady, you listen to your mama, no staying up late just to see me, okay? I'll meet up with you tomorrow, take you girls out to have some ice cream, how's that sound?”

Your heart swelled, listening to him talk to your daughters that way. He truly was made to be a dad one day and you hoped this was actually what he really wanted.

“Now, I'll be heading off to the red carpet, take some nice pictures for you and then you can watch the start of the show. If there's a camera I'll send some kisses your way, okay? You be good for your grandma and grandpa and listen to what they say.”

They nodded their little heads, accompanied by aha’s and uhu’s before they sent Austin off with big kisses and loads of good luck. You waved your goodbyes at them and enjoyed the rest of the ride talking about his upcoming projects and the rest of awards season.

Of course you were his lucky charms that night. He won his BAFTA and you couldn't have been prouder of him than you were at the moment he accepted his award.

The video of you running into his arms and kissing him soundly was one of the most viewed of the night, but in that moment, you couldn't care less if everyone knew about you.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

7:08am | Hwang Hyunjin

-> Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader (You)

-> Request: No. This is a repost from my old account

-> Summary: Hyunjin makes cooking breakfast a little difficult.

-> Warnings: None. No use of pronouns.

-> Word Count: 252

-> Requests: Open until 31st June.

Hyunjin Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy, modify and/or repost anywhere.

“Come on!” Hyunjin exclaims as he goofily dances next to you after he puts some music on. You were cooking breakfast for his dorm thanks to Han convincing you to cook your signature dish after he rambled on for a good ten minutes about wanting to eat it again. “Dance with me!”  

“I’ve got to finish the food,” you pout and whine as he takes your hand and leads you away from the stove after turning it off.   

“The food can wait for a few minutes,” he smiles, and twirls you around before pulling you in close while wrapping his arms around your waist. “Just one song.”  

“One song,” you agree and begin swaying to the music. “How do you have this much energy this early in the morning?”   

“I had the best sleep I’ve had in a while,” he grins. “I always sleep better when you’re in my arms.”  

“I sleep better in your arms too,” you smile.   

He presses a kiss to your lips. “I love you so much.”  

“I love you too, Jinnie,” you say kissing him back just as the song comes to an end. “But can I get back to cooking now?”  

He allows you to return to cooking but continues to stand behind you, his arms still wrapped around your waist. He peppers your neck with gentle kisses, causing you to giggle and squirm slightly. He makes it difficult to focus on the task at hand, but you manage to finish cooking breakfast without any incidents. 

TAG LIST:

@staytiny2000 - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea

@rainydayteacups - @tinyelfperson - @yeonjunnie - @laylasbunbunny - @oddracha

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UNABLE TO TAG AT ALL OR PROPERLY: If you get the notification, let me know and I'll change it. If you don't please check your visibility settings.

@instabull -

[roomwithanopenfire]

Six Sentence Sunday

Happy Sunday everyone and thanks for the tags @nausikaaa @monbons @you-remind-me-of-the-babe and @artsyunderstudy!!

This weekend I've finally had both the time and motivation to write—a marvelous occurrence when they both line up. I finally finished the 3rd chapter of my COBB, then decided I didn't want one chapter all Baz's POV and one chapter all Simon's and played scene tetris to get everything into chronological order instead. Which meant I ended up splitting all the scenes between 3 chapters instead of 2. So now I've finished 4/8 chapters of my COBB instead of 3/7, which feels distinctly better somehow even though it's the same word count 😂 Halfway there 🎉

Here's some Simon POV:

I don’t argue with Fiona as she leaves (taking my mug with her, still half full of tea). While I don't like it, if hunting with her one night is all I have to do to clear this up, I'll take it. I lean back against the fridge, letting my eyes fall closed and releasing a long sigh. Baz’s face fills my mind. Once this whole thing is sorted maybe I’ll be able to stop thinking about him. The Baz behind my eyes raises an eyebrow. Fat chance.

I really think once I finish Proof of Life and this fic I need to write a oneshot that stays a oneshot. I'm too long winded for my own good. Need a palate cleanser. Should write something under 10k again—it's been years.

Tags and Hellos:

@alexalexinii @angelsfalling16 @arthurkko @beastmonstertitan @blackberrysummerblog

@bookish-bogwitch @brendughh @brilla-brilla-estrellita @cutestkilla @drowninginships

@emeryhall @facewithoutheart @fiend-for-culture @hertragedyconnoisseur @horsesarenotdeer

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@m1ndwinder @noblecorgi @onepintobean @prettygoododds @raenestee

@rbkzz @rimeswithpurple @run-for-chamo-miles @shrekgogurt @skeedelvee

@supercutedinosaurs @talentpiper11 @thewholelemon (HAPPY BIRTHDAY 🍋 🎉) @valeffelees + anyone else who wants to share! I love getting tagged in these <3

Please let me know if you don't want to be tagged 🙏

[cloudofbutterflies92]

Tagged by @raresvtm in these two uquiz 💚💚, thank you dear💚💚(divider by @chloekistune )

Would you actually be a good parent?

good parent

you would actually make a good parent! i know a lot of people said they don't want kids, and that's the majority of this site, but rest assured you'll at least make good behavioral decisions

I absolutely agree with this, Eden having had an abusive mother due to alcohol, always wanted to become a mother. With her adopted children she tries to be the one who was not her mother but who was her father: a present person who would give her life for her children

Let Me Assign You A Bullshit Aesthetic

Claw Yourself Out Of Your Grave

Summer nights are kind of disgustingly warm but the breeze tempers the heat for now. There's dirt caked underneath your finger nails and flowers growing out of your chest cavity. You're sort of beautiful now, in the most morbid way possible. Wind whistles and skeletons dance, everything is alive in the graveyard tonight. The best friends you'll ever make are faceless phantoms and the odd demon. The gates of heaven are locked but that's ok because the grass is soft and memory is sweeter than paradise. You let mice sleep inside your lungs, you don't need to breathe anymore.

Skeleton? Someone was thinking about Ghost now 👀(it's aesthetically pleasing thinking about them dancing in the cemetery like a dark gothic couple)

@chloekistune @graveyard-party666 @alypink @statichvm @icecutioner @cassietrn @socially-awkward-skeleton @thewanderer-000 @thedeadthree @sinclxirx @alicedarkmair @strangefable @captastra @aceghosts @kikiharinezumi @katsigian @dickytwister @theelderhazelnut @elderglocks @caelums-fate @chewbokachoi @yourluckyoswald @moosch @illmetbymoonlight @starcrossedspirit @la-grosse-patate @pan-anarcho @killerspinal @dani-the-goblin @g0dspeeed @ghostgirlvii @josephseedismyfather @welldonekhushi @dreamcast641 @milkywayhou @jackiesarch @esolean @voidika @scorpiosleeps @nik-barinova @adlerboi @direwombat and everyone who wants partecipate 💚

[captainlunaxmen]

All for The Cameras

Chapter 10

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

Here we are! I really hope you like this chapter, and thank you to everyone who comments and likes my stories. It means so much🖤💜🖤

Let me know what you think, and if you're new and want to be added to the tag list let me know💜

Chapter summary: the "life" as Capitol's captive is not the best, neither is in district 13 not knowing what's going on.

Chapter warnings: it's the Hunger Games... I mean. Heavy hint of rape, blood, mention of torture.

Tag list:

@guacam011y @justtrying2getby @idontevenknow1359 @alexandra-001 @bambikitten @maggiecc @redh00dsbf @haneybunny @1-800-styles @sisiking99 @merromimo @yourdailymemedelivery @regsg18 @gordorio @bambikitten @gracieeleanorr @shev3nom @honethatty12 @savingprivatecass @erindiggory @martahabla @sterredem @aawdrea @wpdarlingpan @strawberry--fawn @barbarathewanderer @ih8books @a-mysterious-potato @mayonesavegana @celinaiscrying @katherinejess @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @abaker74 @syd649 @meikoo @secretsicanthideanymore @p1stachi @laylasshiftingtonight @yourmumstoy @s0urw00lf @kermits-bitch @littleshadow17

@piya-re @ivymyers @potao-o @wqstedyouths

I'm sorry if I can't tag everyone😔🥺

Y/n's Pov

I don't know how long we've been here.

Days?

Months?

Weeks?

Hours?

Regardless of the truth, too damn long.

Part of me wants someone to rescue us, another doesn't want anyone to get near this place in fear of them getting caught too.

"Y/n...?" Johanna's voice feels further than it actually was, "Y/n... don't get into your head."

"All my fault." I mutter, shaking my head.

"I don't know what you said, but I can tell it's not good." Johanna groans, as she sits up a little straighter.

"Johanna..." I start with an exasperated sigh.

"No."

"It is my fault." I say firmly, "it is, and you have all the reason to hate me."

"Stop it."

"I should've gotten you all out. I..." I choke out a sob.

"Please... stop that." I've never heard her pleading, that alone makes me regain some sense and I crawl closer to the bars.

"I'm sorry." I say, "I'm afraid they know what they're doing..."

"I'm afraid so." Johanna nods, "if you lose yourself we're fucked."

"I know." I force a smile, "do you know how long it's been?"

"Uh..." she groans, "days? Weeks? No idea. Feels like too long, that's for sure."

"Agree." I sigh, "it's been too long since they took Peeta too."

"I don't know what t-" she stops herself.

"Uh?"

"They're coming." She whispers.

A moment later the peacekeepers walk in, passing my cell I see they are dragging Peeta, he can't even stand.

They throw him in his cell without any words and leave the room.

"Peeta?" I call softly, when he doesn't answer I look at Johanna in the cell in front of mine, she can probably see him better than me.

She shrugs.

"Peeta...? What's wrong?" I try again and this time I can hear a grunt from him. "Peeta..."

"She did this." He says, so softly I could hardly hear. My heart breaks, suspecting he's talking about me.

"What... what do you say?" Johanna asks.

"It's her fault." He says louder and I crawl a little back, trying to hide myself.

"Who are you talking about?" Johanna asks again.

"Katniss."

I immediately sit up straight, I look at Johanna who look right back at me, I'm sure we have the same confused expression on our faces.

"What did they do to you there, Peeta?" I carefully ask.

"I... It's all her fault." He says, without answering my question.

"Peeta, answer me." I tell him. I look towards Johanna for any sort of answer, clue of what's happening to him, but she's just as confused.

When we hear footsteps coming towards us, Johanna and I crawl back against the wall, waiting as they open the doors.

"Y/n."

I look up to see Cal, hands behind his back, looking down at me.

"What?" I spat.

"The president requires your presence." He states and with a nod of his head, he motion for the guards to open the door and take me.

They harshly grab me and make me stand.

"Hey!" Cal suddenly shouts, "she's my fiancee, careful."

I roll my eyes as I force myself to walk, and not be dragged, I try to send a quick reassuring look to Johanna as I pass.

"Any clue?" I ask, annoyed to mask the fear I'm actually feeling.

"He wants to show you something." He simply says as we walk through the dark corridors. There are no windows, I can't even tell if it's dry or night outside.

I look around, thinking of a way to escape, I've been inside these buildings all my life, and there must be something I can use.

"You try anything, I'll make sure you regret it." Cal interrupts my thoughts, grabbing my arm to push me to walk quicker.

I can only stay silent, but my eyes are wide open.

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

One of the Peacekeepers opens the door to Snow's office, and Cal pushes me inside.

"Ah! Miss L/n, good to see you." He greets rather cheerfully.

"I thought you were above lying, sir." I mutter.

"On the contrary, my dear, but it doesn't mean I am lying now. I was looking forward to show you something." He's smiling, happy with himself. It's not a good sign usually.

"And what that something might be?" I ask, I try to keep a brave stance, but the way he stares at me proves that he doesn't believe it, and he knows he could crush me if he wanted to.

He looks at me carefully before turning the screen on. The gasp I let out is full of hope, seeing Katniss alive and well. She's somewhere with a sort of filming team, military, Gale is with them. And I think I recognise the other woman. She used to work here in the Capitol. I can't recognise where they are...

"District 8, miss L/n." Snow says, probably from noticing my analysing the footage, "she went to visit a makeshift hospital there..."

"You... what did you do..?" I know what he could've done, I'm just mad, furious.

"What you see here is nothing. You see, we declared not long ago that any association with the Mockingjay symbol is forbidden, any form of association." He explains, "so... you tell me. What would happen next?"

I can't help the tears forming and falling from my eyes, the rage I wish to let out, but I can't... or I won't be the one to pay.

"I... I..."

"If you were there, you probably would've suggested a different approach, wouldn't you?" He mocks, "You're a smart girl, I did raise you, whether you like it or not. Your insights on our ways would've helped them. But now I want you to tell me: what was the inevitable next step?"

I'm shaking, I keep my eyes on the screen. If Katniss is alive, maybe the others are too...

"Well?" He urges, "say it."

"Kill the wounded..." I whisper.

"My exact words, miss L/n, my exact words." He looks at me, proudly it seems, and all I want to do is throw up.

"You attacked a makeshift hospital... without defence..." I keep shaking my head.

"They committed treason, my dear girl. There was a warning." He simply states.

"Why did you show me this?" I snap.

"Ah, finally." He walks closer to me, "try take a guess."

"Stop with this game." I spit back.

"Take a guess."

I take deep breaths, thinking.

"I..."

"Let me hear your thoughts, entertain me." He says.

I clench my fists, nails poking my skin hard enough to keep my mind focused.

"It's can't be so I can tell the others, too easy." I start and he nods.

"And why?"

"Because Peeta's treatment is not complete..." I say, realising it now, "one word and all your progress would be useless... so why tell me?... I..." Then another realisation hits me even harder, "I have to keep the secret from them... if they found out they wouldn't trust me anymore." I see Snow nodding, "and of course if I say something you would know and you would punish them, and not me."

All a stupid mind game, make me feel guilty for something I have no power on...

"Smart girl." He compliments, "your punishment for lying and betraying the Capitol, do the same to your loved ones. One word and they'll suffer. All because of you. Just like your brother."

If he shot me, it would hurt less.

I force myself to stay put, whatever I do will fall on Peeta and Johanna. I feel my hands getting wet, but I'm afraid if I move I'd do something I know they'll make me regret.

"Have someone bandage her hands before the next interview, general." Snow adresses Cal, I didn't even notice him entering the room.

"Of course." Cal responds, putting a hand on the small of my back to make me move.

That snaps me out of my paralysis and I loom at my hands. My nails got through and now there's blood on my hands...

Irony is weird. So is the fact that we're not heading to the tribute centre where they're keeping us...

"Where..."

"Shut up." Cal grabs my arm, "you need more than a few session."

I stop abruptly, his hold only tightens.

"Please no... Cal, please..." I struggle against him.

"We'll try again the reality session."

My heart sink at the thought.

No...

I struggle more but he just grabs me and puts me on his shoulder, I'm too weak to keep going.

I need to keep repeating myself that nothing is real in there.

Nothing is real in there.

Finnick's Pov

"Did you already try the trident Beetee made for you?" Haymitch asks Finnick, hoping to distract him from his knots.

"I... yeah... it was... Good... I think." He mutters.

"You know she wants you to fight, right?" Haymitch tries again, "Y/n wouldn't want you here, worried sick making knots over knots."

"She would slap me, probably." Finnick allows himself a small chuckle.

"Oh, for sure." Haymitch agrees, "so?"

"What?"

"Are you planning on keeping on sulking here?"

Finnick sighs deeply, eyes on the knot in his hands.

He puts is down on the bed and stands. Haymitch looks at him, a victorious grin on his face as he begins walking away, sure Finnick is following him.

Finnick takes a deep breath and follows him out.

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

As Finnick and Haymitch get to the others, another transmission from the Capitol starts.

Y/n and Peeta are together this time, facing the camera directly.

"Look at any movement from her, any scheme." Haymitch tells everyone, "she's trying to communicate."

"She tried to teach me morse code... she never got to..." Finnick whispers, defeated.

"Well, we got people here who knows it, don't stress yourself about it." Coin comforts him, "if she's indeed sending a message... we'll get it."

"Look at her..." Finnick feels himself about to cry, "look at them..."

In that moment Katniss and Boggs arrive too, just as Y/n starts speaking.

"Tonight, we've received reports of derailed trains, of granaries on fire, and of a savage attack on the hydroelectric dam in district 5." She says, hands fidgeting as always.

"We're begging for restraint and decency." Peeta adds.

Before he can say anything more, the scene changes into Katniss walking through ruins ans her voice singing.

"That's it. That's our footage" says president Coin.

"Beetee's in." Plutarch realises.

The scenes switch between Katniss' and The Capitol's.

"Katniss.." Peeta whispers.

"He sees it. He sees our propo."

"Katniss, are you there?" He asks.

Finnick looks at Katniss crying, helpless, then goes back at looking at the screen. He notices Y/n reaching a hand out to comfort Peeta, or to keep him focused. He can see threat of tears in her eyes.

Someone from the front desks walks up to Coin handing her a piece of paper. She nods her head and whispers something to them and they quickly run out the room

"Peeta, please continue." Ceaser voice urges him, "you were telling us about these savage attacks."

If before this interruption Y/n eyes were looking in front of her, to the camera, now they're set on Peeta.

"The attack on the damp was a callous and inhuman act of destruction." He says, but it switches again to Katniss singing.

"Think about it." He's fully in distress now, Finnick sees Y/n whispering something to Peeta as she gently grabs his hands, soothing him. "How will this end. What will be left? They're coming, Katniss. They're gonna kill everyone." Peeta's like he snapped out of whatever hypnotic state he was and warns her, "in district 13, you'll be dead by morning!"

Before the transmission is cut they managed to see peacekeepers grabbing both Peeta and Y/n.

"He's warning us. That was a warning." Haymitch says.

"Yes, it was." Boggs agrees.

"We have to get them out before they kill them." Katniss basically begs and Finnick is very close to do the same.

"Is there anything in the air?" Coin asks.

"Nothing on Doppler, ma'am."

"They were in the mansion. They could have overheard something." Coin guesses.

"Possibly." Plutarch agrees, "plus Y/n knows their ways."

Coin then looks at everyone, pondering.

"It's time for an air raid drill." Coin announces.

Everyone starts walking out as the alarm starts bleeping, urging everyone to get ready to begun evacuation protocol, heading to the underground shelters.

Finnick follows everyone down, he has to be careful not to trip down, because his mind is busy worrying about Y/n.

Are they going to hurt her? Kill her? He'd give his life to know... he'd give up his life for hers.

Y/n's Pov

We're in the dark. Complete dark.

Could it be a malfunction in the building electric storage? No... something happened, but what.

"Any idea, L/n?" Johanna asks.

"Not a clue."

"Peeta?" Johanna calls, him. He hasn't said a word since they got us back here.

"Mmh." He grunts, but not a word.

"What did they do?" She asks.

"They... grabbed him, he tried to get away from them..." I start, my voice shaking at the memory, "they started to kick him... hard. I try to make them stop. They punched me... they kept on kicking us until... Cal came in..."

"God..." she groans.

"At least they stopped hitting him." I whisper. "And they didn't bring us back to torture us... last time they used my brother... I don't think I can take another of those..."

"Fuck..." she breaths out.

"Doesn't mean they won't torture us tomorrow..." I hold back my tears, "but for tonight we're okay... I think."

"He got back before you..." Johanna inquires.

"So?"

"You were bleeding when they got you here... has it stopped?"

"No..."

"You said Cal was there." She keeps guessing.

"Yes..."

"Did he...?"

"Yes, Johanna, can we not talk about it?" I snap.

"Of course." She says, understanding.

I take a deep breath, to calm my nerves, and prevent any more tears.

"I didn't mean to snap. I'm sorry." I say.

"I snap all the time and you're never upset about it. Don't worry." She says, to cheer me up, I think.

"I never minded you snapping at me." I chuckle.

"That's why I thought you were worthy of my respect." She casually says.

"Because I let you snap at me?" I ask.

"Because you understand."

"Don't go soft on me now, Mason." I warn her playfully, "we'll getting out."

"Hope is a dangerous thing." She warns me as well.

"Yet it's also powerful." I wish I could wink at her right now, but I'm forced to close both my eyes due to the light turning back on.

"What the fuck?" She exclaims, "what's going on?"

"I don't know." I try to force my eyes to get used again to the strong light.

Then something is thrown into the room, and everything is surrounded by smoke.

We start coughing hard, I try to keep my eyes open to see anything.

I suddenly see people armed and with helmets on.

"What the fuck..."

"What's going on? Hey?!" Johanna screams at them.

One of them get closer to my cell, through the artificial fog, once they're close enough they removes the helmet just enough for me to see him, but everything turns black before I even get a glimpse.