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dionysianivy · 16 days ago

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𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚

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What is Litha?

Litha is a solar festival celebrated between June 20th and 22nd in the Northern Hemisphere, and around December 20th to 22nd in the Southern Hemisphere. It marks the summer solstice, the longest day of the year and the moment when the sun reaches its peak power. Traditionally, Litha honors the height of light, the fullness of life, and the abundance offered by the Earth in bloom. It is the midpoint of the Wheel of the Year, when nature is at its most alive: fields are green, flowers are open, fruit begins to ripen, and warmth fills every corner. Litha celebrates vitality, strength, joy, and the energy of the sun at its zenith. Fires are lit in its honor, herbs are gathered, and the power of manifestation is strong. Yet, within this brightness lies a quiet turning point, from this day forward, the light will begin to wane. Litha carries both celebration and awareness: the joy of what has flourished, and that all things are cyclical, Now it’s a great time to reflect on personal radiance, express gratitude and to honor the sun and all solar deities.

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History of Litha

The name Litha comes from Anglo-Saxon sources and was recorded by Bede as the name of the months around midsummer. However, the solstice has been celebrated across many cultures for thousands of years. In Celtic lands, midsummer was a sacred time when druids lit bonfires on hilltops to honour the sun and support the fertility of the land. Sacred herbs were gathered at dawn, believed to be especially powerful when infused with the longest light of the year. In ancient Rome, this period was dedicated to Juno, goddess of marriage and women, and to Vesta, the goddess of the hearth fire. Her temple was opened to women, and offerings of grain were made to ensure household blessings. In ancient Greece, midsummer was connected to Hera, Aphrodite, and it was also believed that Prometheus stole the fire from the chariot of the sun and gifted it to humanity at this time. In ancient China, the summer solstice was linked to yin, feminine, earthly energy, in balance with the winter solstice, which represented yang. ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁

Litha and the Faerie Folk

Midsummer is also a time when the faerie realm is believed to be especially active. Just like Beltane, Litha is considered a liminal time, when the veil between worlds grows thin and the unseen becomes just a little more visible. In Celtic folklore, the fae wander freely during the solstice, drawn to beauty, music, laughter, and offerings left in nature. People once left milk, honey, or bread under sacred trees, near springs, or in gardens to honour them and ask for protection or blessings. Wildflowers and oak groves are especially associated with faerie energy at this time, and some believe that in the shimmer of heat on the solstice horizon, you can sense the opening of other realms: Avalon, Tir na nÓg, the Land of Youth. It’s believed that faeries hold their grand celebrations within mystical faerie rings. These circles, often found in grassy meadows or forest clearings, are thought to mark the dancing spots of faeries. To honor these elemental spirits, offerings of honey, butter, or creamy milk are left in the hopes of gaining faerie favor. (source)

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Midsummer Herb Ritual

Litha is also traditionally a time for harvesting herbs used in potions, elixirs, and spells, a moment long held sacred in magical practice. Since ancient times, it has been believed that when the sun is at its peak and the earth is overflowing with life, the bond between plants and those who work with them grows especially strong. Witches, healers, druids, and others in tune with the land’s rhythms would venture out to gather herbs with deep care, following the natural flow of the day. Some plants were picked at dawn, others at noon, some at sunset, and a few in the gentle quiet of late afternoon. They used small blades, sometimes curved or shaped like serpents, and approached the task slowly, with reverence. Before cutting, they would sit with the plant in stillness, offering a soft prayer or moment of presence. Only a small amount was taken, never more than needed, always leaving enough so the plant could continue to grow and thrive. Gratitude was at the heart of the act, gratitude for the plant, for the living earth, and for the unseen spirits watching over the wild. The herbs gathered during Litha were believed to be especially potent. Little was required. Just sunlight, clear intention, and a respectful hand. Many flowers are linked to this time of year, but the most well-known is St. John’s Wort, valued for its protective and healing properties. Roses, in every color, are also deeply connected to Litha, representing love, passion, and the fullness of life under the midsummer sun.

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The Rise of the Holly King

The myth of the Oak King and the Holly King is often told to explain the shifting balance of light and dark throughout the year. The Oak King rules from the winter solstice to the summer solstice, he is the spirit of the waxing year, of expanding daylight, growth, and vitality. He represents the rising power of the sun and the energy that brings life back to the land. But at Litha, when the light reaches its peak, his brother, the Holly King, returns. The Holly King rules from the summer solstice to Yule, guiding the year into the waning half. He is the spirit of stillness, reflection, and retreat. Their meeting is not a violent battle, but a symbolic shift, one steps back so the other may rise. This story reminds us that light and dark are both sacred, and that every high point contains the seed of return. Just like the sun, we too rise, peak, rest, and begin again.

Litha and Goddess Áine

Áine is a Celtic goddess very closely associated with Litha. is the Celtic Goddess of Midsummer and Queen of the Faeries, deeply tied to both the light of the sun and the mystery of the fae. As a solar deity, she is honored during Midsummer celebrations, being associated with summer, love, protection, fertility, wealth, and sovereignty. On the eve of the 23rd, just after the solstice, people used to gather on Cnoc Áine, where she was said to dwell. They would light bunches of straw and hay tied to poles. These poles were then carried in procession to the top of the hill. Later, people would run with the flames through their fields and between the cattle to bring good luck for the rest of the year. Áine is also connected to horses, animals considered sacred and symbolic of midsummer in Irish tradition. It was said that she could take the form of a red mare named Lair Derg and ride through the fields during the solstice, blessing the land with fertility and magic. Offerings to Áine might include flowers, honey mead, and horseshoes.

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Magic Correspondences

Planets: Sun

Season: Summer

Element: Earth, Fire

Time Of The Day: Noon (when the Sun is at its highest)

Tarot Cards: The Sun, The Empress, The Wheel Of Fortune, 9 Of Cups, The Emperor, The Strength

Colors: Yellow, Orange, Green, Blue, Gold, Red

Herbs: Fennel, Ivy, Yarrow, Verbena, Mugwort, Sage, Mint, Basil, Clove, Thyme

Fruits: Cherry, Raspberry, Peach, Strawberry, Berries, Pineapple, Orange, Apricot, Nectarines

Vegetables: Spinach, Lettuce, Tomatoes, Carrots

Crystals: Jade, Carnelian, Peridot, Citrine, Tiger’s Eye, Sunstone

Runes: Kenaz, Fehu, Ehwaz, Sowilo

Trees: Oak, Birch, Elder, Linden

Goddesses: Brigid, Hel, Amaterasu, Hestia, Juno, Hera, Aphrodite, Áine, Freyja, Bastet, Hathor, Sunna, Flora, Vesta

Gods: Apollo, Helios, Lugh, Baldur, Ra, Zeus, Horus, Dionysus, Aten, Loki, Jupiter, Thor, Cernunnos

Dragons: Fafnir

Flowers: Daisy, St. John’s Wort, Rose, Lavender, Sunflower, Poppy, Calendula, Honeysuckle, Foxglove, Chamomile, Marigold, Jasmine, Peony

Animals: Horse, Bee, Butterfly, Lion, Wren, Moth, Bull, Cow, Hawk, Lizard, Donkey, Hawks, Eagles, Swans

Magical Powers: Good Energy, Solar Magick, Confidence, Healing, Love, Power, Warmth, Success, Fire Magick, Fertility

Symbols: Birch, Sun, Horseshoe, Flower, Butterfly, Summer Birds, Sea Shells, Sun Wheel, Bonfire, St. John’s Wort, Faerie Rings, Roses, Oak, Spiral

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Activities to Do:

☀️ Read A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare

☀️ Take a bath with rose petals or rose essential oil

☀️ Swim on this day to honor both the water and fire elements

☀️ Drink St. John's Wort tea (⚠️Just a quick warning: consuming St. John's Wort while on certain medications, like antidepressants or some painkillers, can trigger serotonin syndrome, which is a serious and painful condition. So make sure to check first or skip it if you're unsure.)

☀️ Craft faerie houses in your garden

☀️ Meditate while lying in the grass, letting the sun touch your skin

☀️ Bake a honey cake for the sabbat

☀️ Go camping to connect with nature

☀️ Craft a homemade sundial

☀️ Leave offerings for the faerie folk

☀️ Create a Litha altar

☀️ Make a flower wreath or crown

☀️ Honor solar deities

☀️ Dance around a Birch tree

☀️ Wear bright colors (yellow, orange, green, blue) to reflect solar energy

☀️ Make lavender lemonade

☀️ Spend time in the sun (don’t forget sunscreen!)

☀️ Do a tarot reading outdoors

☀️ Read poetry in nature

☀️ Host a garden party or BBQ

☀️ Make a Litha magick jar

☀️ Watch the sunset or sunrise from a peaceful place

☀️ Water your garden with intention

☀️ Leave water bowls outside for animals

☀️ Dance around a bonfire at dusk

☀️ Eat fresh fruits in celebration of the season

☀️ Meditate outdoors and ground yourself in the sun’s energy

☀️ Bake sun-shaped cake or bread

☀️ Make a fruit and veggie salad

☀️ Cleanse your crystals in the sunlight

☀️ Leave seeds out for the birds

☀️ Plant trees or herbs in your garden

☀️ Make sun tea by infusing herbs in a jar under the sun

☀️ Hang a horseshoe on your door for luck and protection

☀️ Create a sun catcher

☀️ Spend time outside with your pets

☀️ Make sun water

☀️ Eat honey

☀️ Host a mini gather with loved ones

☀️ Learn about sea witchcraft

☀️ Do your makeup, nails, or outfit in festive Litha colors

☀️ Go collect seashells if you live near a beach

☀️ Draw the sun wheel symbol and place it on your altar

☀️ Bake sun shaped cookies

☀️ Collect flowers and place them on your altar

☀️ Read about solar deities and their myths

☀️ Make lemonade with herbs or edible flowers

☀️ Reconnect with your inner child: play, dance, read, do activities you loved as a kid

☀️ Make a daisy chain

☀️ Set intentions at sunset for the rest of the year (until Yule)

☀️ Craft a sun wheel

☀️ Honor the sun through rituals

☀️ Harvest herbs from your garden

☀️ Start a herbarium

☀️ Research about draconic magick, dragons resonate with Litha’s fire energy

☀️ Have a picnic at noon to soak in the sun’s peak

☀️ Get yellow or orange candles and inscribe them with runes or sigils

☀️ Engage in gardening and connect to the Earth

☀️ Practice a solar plexus chakra meditation

☀️ Perform spells for confidence, personal power, and abundance

☀️ Visit a botanical garden

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Food and Drinks:

Grilled veggies, grilled chicken with rice, barbecued or flame-grilled food, honey cakes, honey, lavender cheesecake, lemonades, orange juice, summer salads, croissants with jam, bread and pastries, cakes with edible flowers, mead, sun tea, mint tea, spiced punch, rum, ale, wine, milk (for the faeries), strawberries, raspberries, peaches, oranges, lemons, pears, grapes, summer squash, sweet potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, butternut squash, carrot cupcakes, tomato soup, mushroom appetizers, spicy foods, curries, spiced cakes, cinnamon toast, pumpernickel bread, bread with grapes, white bread, potato salad, pasta salad, rice salad, strawberry tart, raspberry tart, leafy green vegetables, spinach, basil, thyme, sunflower seeds, pine nuts.

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sources: Midsummer: Rituals, Recipes & Lore for Litha (Llewellyn's Sabbat Essentials, 3); Midsummer: Magical Celebrations of the Summer Solstice by Anna Franklin; Magie Blanche by Eric-Pier Sperandio; https://thebusypagan.com/pagan-holidays/litha/

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beloveds-embrace · 7 months ago

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Fuck it, we ball, I hope that disrespectful anon gets hemorrhoids and they can't get them removed until next year, AND that their insurance doesn't cover it. I'm here thinking about your Omega idea where omegas normally do the pursuing, but with a slight twist; the boys being the omegas. An alpha who is for sure down bad for the boys, but thinks "ah, theyre out of my league, I should be aiming lower, manage my expectations". Only 141 is just as down bad for them, and they're doing everything just short of screaming "PICK UP ON THE HINTS, COME INTO OUR HOUSE AND BEDS AND LIVES AND STAY FOREVER PLEASE"

Johnny is about to say fuck decorum and just show up in reader's house wearing nothing but a ribbon and a tag that says 'free to a good home' (your home is the good one, please keep him, there is no receipt so you can't return him).

Price has the brain cell normally in terms of trying to gently coax you into getting you to say you're into them, he has a 15 step plan that may or may not involve using his various contacts to get you spending more time in close proximity to them. Also he for some reason is always baking, he always comes over asking you for sugar? (He'll take any kind of 'sugar' you're willing to offer, he loves making a variety of cream pies)

Gaz is always gently inviting them to attend 'friend' things, things that could be a date but that he can excuse as 'well we're coworkers/friends/neighbors, we should get along :)'. It's just a coincidence that various other people seem to bail except for any of the other boys, now why don't you sit beside him so you guys can share popcorn at the movies (you both always seem to be reaching for it at the same time, if your fingers touched anymore you might as well be holding hands)

Simon is chasing off any omegas he thinks are a threat to them getting reader, that is THEIR alpha, paws OFF (rip to anyone reader was halfheartedly going on dates with, this man is gonna become those people's sleep paralysis demon)

Hope you enjoy!! :3 💕💕 i lovedddd writing this sm omg

See, the thing is, you’d always thought of yourself as a decent Alpha. Not overbearing, not egotistical, not a demanding freak- just capable and steady. But you weren’t extraordinary. Not the kind of Alpha Omegas like them would look at twice. And so, while you worked alongside the men of Task Force 141 you convinced yourself to be content with just admiring them from a distance.

You couldn’t help it. They were perfect, as far as you were concerned. Perfect, and fully out of your league.

Surely, Omegas like them would want someone better. Someone stronger. You’d told yourself that so many times it was practically your mantra, the only way you’d be able to stop yourself from pursuing them. They deserved someone more charismatic, more confident- an Alpha who could match their brilliance. Not someone like you, fumbling through conversations with them, struggling to keep your feelings in check.

But they’d already decided. They didn’t need a flashy Alpha or someone who tried too hard. What they wanted was you. The only problem? You didn’t seem to realize it, no matter how obvious they made it.

John took the lead, naturally. He knew you were cautious and perhaps a little insecure when it came to relationships (it was fucking visible in you, silly Alpha. He scoffs each time you draw back, frustrated), so he made it his mission to draw you in- slowly and subtly. His plan was meticulous: get you comfortable, build trust, and create opportunities for you to spend more time with them so you’d see that they only want you.

Maybe then you’d break out of that stupid shell you’ve put yourself in.

He’d started baking regularly, a habit you hadn’t even known he had. At least once a week, he’d show up at your place with a tin of cookies, a loaf of fresh bread, or a perfectly golden pie. “Thought I’d share,” he’d say casually, though the slight smirk tugging at his lips told a different story. He peers at you, letting his scent coil just a bit more. “I hope you don’t mind the amount of cream. I happen to like cream pies a lot.”

The way to an Alpha’s heart is through their stomach, and all that.

If he wasn’t offering you baked goods, he was asking for your help to make said baked goods. “Ran out of sugar again,” he’d sigh, handing you an empty container. “Mind sparing a bit?”

It was ridiculous, downright unbelievable how often he supposedly ran out of baking supplies. But his visits became a highlight of your week, and the lingering looks he gave you left your heart pounding long after he was gone.

The one time he’d handfed you, watching you lick the syrup from his fingers with half-lidded eyes, still lives in your mind rent-free.

Kyle took a softer, more personal approach. He wasn’t above using the pretense of friendship to spend time with you, often inviting you to casual dates- grabbing coffee, going to the movies, or just walking through town and shopping. Every invitation was framed innocently, but there was always a little extra effort behind it. He’d pick a movie he knew you’d like, suggest places he knew you’d find interesting, and ensure that others you unfortunately knew joined just enough to make it seem less like a date.

Somehow, though, those other people always mysteriously canceled. It was never anything dramatic- just a sudden cold, a scheduling conflict, or a “something came up, sorry.” Eventually, it would be just you and a very smug Kyle, sitting close enough that your knees brushed or reaching for popcorn at the same time. Once, right as the bowl emptied and you both reached for it, Kyle simply thought fuck it and held your hand.

On one occasion, you both shared a bowl of spaghetti and ended up with the scene from the Lady and the Tramp.

It was so painfully obvious to everyone.

Except you.

“It’s not a coincidence,” Kyle muttered to Johnny one evening after you left, both of them sitting in the spot you were in, bathing in the leftover warmth and scent. “How can they not notice?”

Speaking of Johnny; he’s barely keeping himself together. Subtlety in missions are a must sometimes, but he doesn’t want to that with you anymore. He was just so, so, so frustrated with your obliviousness. What more does he need to do to show you that he- that they- want you?

He’s been dropping so many hints; half-jokes about Omegas waiting begging to be swept off their feet, suggestive winks when you compliment him in that lovely, adoring tone of yours. Once, while watching a romantic tv show, he’d sighed loudly and very pointedly said: “If only someone would claim me.”

“If ye don’t figure it out soon,” he growled at the others one night, pacing back and forth like a wild beast and probably on his way to leave a dent in the carpet, “I’m showin’ up at their doorstep with nothin’ but a red bow, like some bloody Christmas prezzie, I swear to god.”

John sighs, rolling his eyes. “You do that, and I’m leaving you on their porch.”

“That’s exactly what I’m askin’ for!”

Simon took the quietest but most direct approach. Just not exactly direct towards you. While the others worked to get closer to you, Simon focused on eliminating what he saw as obstacles: other Omegas who thought you were free for the taking. It didn’t matter if they were serious or just someone you’d gone on a casual date with- Simon saw them all as threats.

He didn’t have to say much to scare them off. A single cold glare from across the room, sharp bursts of his scent, or a low, menacing comment was usually enough to send them packing. He didn’t care if it was excessive.

You were his Alpha. You were their Alpha, and no one else had a right to you.

But even Simon softened when it came to you. He couldn’t put all his thoughts, all his feelings into words, so he did them with his actions. Quiet protectiveness, gentle, careful touches. Moments of fleeting vulnerabilities shared between you and him.

He was always there for you. Even if you didn’t know you need him with you.

Still, despite all their efforts, you remained convinced that they weren’t interested.

In the end, to no one’s surprise, it’s Johnny who snaps. Johnny, so close to his heat, so absolutely done with your obliviousness and the Omegas that aren’t them talking with you when you should be only focused on them.

He doesn’t care; leaves the carefully made nest with your stolen shirts and none of the others stop him when he just. Drags your surprised self to the nest.

“Johnny! You-“

“I want you.” He hisses, bares his teeth all sharp and desperate. “We want you. And damn it, we will have you.”

And well, who are you to even say no when this is all you have wanted?

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darkbluekies · 10 months ago

Text

In the dungeon

yandere!king oc x fem!reader

Summary: after disrespecting him, you've found yourself in his dungeon. Edmund comes to visit you because he has heard that you haven't eaten in three days

Warnings: self starvation, punishment, toxic relationship,

Word count: 1.1k

He doesn't like it, but what choice does he have? If people found out that he doesn't punish his own wife, what would they think of him? That he's not a well respected leader because he can't even punish his own wife? No, he can't have that. He has to do it. But by doing it, he also feels pain, so it's a punishment for both of you. That's how he explained it.

You had disrespected him, belittled him and his masculinity. And now you're here. Easier said than done. Saying the words to him was easier than doing the time for them.

Your head hangs low as footsteps echo down the spiral stone stairs. You don't look up to see who it is, don't care who it is. Another guard to switch swift.

“Oh, my love …”

You look up. Edmund is standing on the other side of the metallic bars, wearing his clean, colorful clothes made out of the finest satin. He places a plate with a silver cloche on the bench beside him. You pull yourself up from the floor slowly, back sore from resting against the stone wall for eternity and stomach empty. Edmund's ice blue eyes follow your every step. It's not often that they contain any type of emotion, but seeing you like this brings out a deep worry that seems to make his eyes glow.

You drag yourself over to the door, which is nothing more than metallic bars. You hold onto one of the cold metal rods. Edmund places his hand over yours.

“The guards have told me that you haven't eaten in three days”, he says softly, as if you could break if he raised his voice even a decibel louder. “You can't do that, Y/N. You can't worry me like this.”

As if he would have eaten that stale bread and drink that moldy water, you think.

“Can I come up now?” you whisper. “I want to get out of here”, you cry weakly. “Edmund, please …”

Edmund shakes his head carefully.

“No, not yet”, he answers with a heavy sigh. “It's going to be okay, darling”, he reassures you softly, kissing the hand he's holding. “Soon, you'll be back with me, okay? Believe me, I want nothing more than to let you back upstairs and have you in my arms, but they would think I was incompetent in my role.”

He wipes one of your tears apologetically.

“Do you care more about your power than you do me?” you whisper.

He looks taken aback, unable to know what to answer.

“Don't be like that”, he says. “You know I love you more than anything else.”

But not enough, apparently, you think and sniffle.

He looks behind you, around the cell.

“I brought some food from the kitchen”, he says. “I want to see you eat it before I leave.”

He gestures for the guard to unlock the door as he bends down to pick up the plate. You back away from the door, finding your safe spot on the floor by the opposite wall. Edmund walks over, checking the floor before hesitantly sitting down.

“Do you have to sit on the dirty floor?” he mumbles dislikingly.

“I like it”, you reply.

“Alright, alright.”

Despite grimacing and dusting of his satin clothes, he makes himself comfortable on the hard, dirty floor and opens the cloche. The smell of boiled potatoes and marinated meat meets your nose, and the sight is even more exquisite. He takes out a silver fork from his pocket, stabs one of the potatoes and holds it to your lips. You open your mouth, letting him feed you. It tastes better than you remember it to. It has only been a week since you got locked down in the dungeon, but without anything to do, without necessities and comfort, the hours creep by. For all you could care, a month could have gone by. The only form of company you've had have been the rats crawling around on the floor, just big enough to squeeze through the metal bars. They bite.

“Tasty?” Edmund asks.

You nod. Anything that the kitchen prepares is delicious — or at least a thousand times better than the rock hard bread and dusty water.

“Good”, the young king says, pleased, feeding you another fork full of meat. “It makes me feel better to see you eat.”

Eating the food he has brought for you reminds you of how badly you want to vet out of here … and how much your comfort relies on Edmund.

Edmund wipes away a sauce smudge on the corner of your lips and sticks it between his lips to lick it off. You doubt he would do that to anyone else. Ever. He has certain liberties with you which he has with no one else. He can hug you, touch you, smile at you, joke with you. You give him life in a way no one can.

“You should see how restless my hours without you are”, he sighs and rolls his eyes. “I'm a walking bomb without you. I almost feel bad for my secretary.”

“Then let me back up …”, you whisper, a last attempt to try to plead with him. “Please.”

“I can't. Not yet. I've already given you special treatment and advantages no one else has gotten. If I let you back upstairs before an appropriate time my authority will be questioned.”

“I'm sorry, Edmund.”

Your voice is barely audible. His hand stops dead in its track on its way to your mouth. A drop of sauce falls down on the floor. You can see that it hit him right in his heart, shattering it.

“Oh, I know”, he reassures you and feeds you the piece of meat. “I know, darling. I believe you.”

You chew slowly, swallow slowly. The food seems to get stuck in your throat.

“Good girl”, Edmund praises. “You can hold out a little while longer, can't you? Just a few more days?”

You nod in defeat. What other choice do you have now that your pleading didn't work?

Edmund stands up. You follow him panicked, quickly reaching out and grabbing his hand.

“No!” you shriek. “Dont leave me. I don't want to be alone!”

“It's getting late”, Edmund answers. “I thought that I would let you get some rest.”

“No … not alone … please. Please stay. Just a little while longer.”

He thinks for a second. “Okay.”

You breathe out in relief. He sits down with his back against the wall, letting you fall asleep against him, wrapped in his warm, strong arms. Leaving him alone with his thoughts — his conflicting, torturing thoughts.

When you wake up the following morning by the sun shining through the little window pane you're alone, lying on the floor, covered by a colorful cape made out of the finest satin.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere fics #yandere king #yandere x female reader #female reader #yandere oneshot #yandere royal

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melloeyed · 2 months ago

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More Gaslight District X Mom!Reader

(Mostly Ken x Wife!Reader Headcanons)

Warning: There are spicy parts in here!🔞

Part One

(A/N: I’m actually glad you guys liked the previous post, so I guess I’ll make another one! Man, so many people liked it-🫀🫀)

• You and Ken’s relationship was the perfect example of unhinged and wholesome. Two proud parents of a big, happy psychotic family. You both have never been more happier in your lives.

• You were always the calm to Ken’s storm. Whenever the gears would shift in Ken’s head, you would always be there to calm him down during his random wrathful outbursts.

• You always thought losing his temper was cute, but work was too hasty for him to flip shit every 5 seconds. Ken would always feel ashamed whenever his wife would calm him down whenever he got too wrathful.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?! I SWEAR I’LL-!”

“Shh, Ken! You’re yelling again. The kids are sleeping!”

“…oh…sorry, honey.”

• Of course, you’re always there for your husband whenever he needs a hand. Being a father and a don of a mafia is never easy, so you’re always willing to switch places with Ken if it means that your hubby gets the rest that he deserves.

• Marrying Ken was the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you. In all of your undead years of living in The Gaslight District, you’ve never thought you’d find someone to finally complete you. Ken has always felt the same way.

• Your wedding night with him was absolutely unforgettable, too. Instead of saying wedding vows at a chapel, you and Ken completed your vows by bombing the building of the rivaling gangs. You still remember how the remains of the victims rained down upon you and Ken while you two kissed, nearly staining your wedding dress.

• The honeymoon was even better. You two nearly spent the entire day gushing over one another and loudly bumping hips (much to Mud’s dismay). In bed, in the car, on the kitchen table, in the shower, even on the floor. Ken was always rough with you and you loved it.

• Ken knows how much of a hold he has on you and he loves it. To his deep and attractive voice, his handsome strongfat body, and his loving personality. This delicious man leaves you weak to the knees with the littlest effort.

• You also tend to do the same to him, only unintentionally. Wearing his favorite perfume makes him more clingy to you than ever, soothing him with your sweet voice leaves him all flustered, and bending over while at work can guarantee that he’ll leave a hard smack on your ass.

• Ken has a secret little hobby of flustering you out of nowhere. Watching you perk up and blush by his words really strokes his ego.

“You know, Ken. Considering how much beefy you were back in the day I’m not surprised you stretched your old clothes out!”

“Heh, that’s not the only thing I’ve stretched out, hon...”

“O-Oh, my…”

• The last thing you expected was starting a family with Ken. Sure, kids are great and parenting was a beautiful yet, difficult thing, but you never really saw yourself being a mother, considering how violent your life is.

• Although it has been hard for you to decide, you immediately changed your mind when you first saw Breadhead and then Mel as babies. Two beautiful bundles of joy that you would destroy the world for.

• When Breadhead was first born, you and Ken were all over him. Your firstborn son, fresh out the oven, joyfully being held in a bundle by his new tearful parents.

“Oh, Ken! He’s perfect! Look at his cute little bread head…”

“I know, look at him! Our son! Our little roll of joy…”

• After you and Ken became parents, you began to stay behind at the Butcher Shop to take care of baby Breadhead. Ken and Mud were bummed out that you couldn’t go with them, but someone has to babysit.

• Your favorite memory of Breadhead is when he first ate a Rotling in one bite when he was 3. You still have a picture of that moment.

• Watching Breadhead grow up was a wild but enjoyable experience. From his first steps, his first word, and his first kill, you were nothing but a sweet and loving parent to him. Hence, why he became such a mama’s boy.

• But when Mel came into the family, so much has changed in your life. You weren’t fully aware what kind of bad blood Ken had with the Virtues and he never really wanted to talk about it. You remembered how shocked you were when Ken arrived at the shop with the human baby in his arms.

• Like others, you were fearful of the legend of the human child that would end The Black Hand’s curse of immortality throughout The Gaslight District. You first had thoughts of getting rid of Mel out of panic, but you then stopped yourself after seeing her for the first time.

• You remembered how her small pale head poked out of the bundle she was wrapped in with her precious round red eyes looking up at you in wonder. This beautiful human baby girl gazed at you with no fear regardless of your deathly appearance and immediately your panic was replaced with love.

• Ken was unsure whether or not he could trust you with the secret that Mel is the human, but when you slowly walked up to him, with you’re eyes glued to baby Mel, relief was what he nearly expected.

“(Y/N), please just-“

“…She’s beautiful…”

“…I knew I could trust you.”

• Words couldn’t describe how relieved and overjoyed Ken was when you agreed to keep the secret with him without hesitation. You two both knew that he couldn’t carry that burden alone and you completely moved by the fact that he believed that he could trust you with such a thing. You and Ken became much closer while raising Mel.

• Unlike Breadhead, Mel would always want to spend more time with Ken, but unfortunately he would always go on missions with Mud and Breadhead so she was mostly stuck with you in the Butcher Shop.

• Mel barely admits it, but she thinks you’re way cooler than Ken. As much as a daddy’s girl she is she can’t get enough of you being badass. Especially the time where she watched you traumatize the hell out of a creep.

• Ken absolutely loves it when you and Mel have precious mother-daughter moments together. Nothing makes his heart burst more than seeing his two favorite girls having a great time together.

• Ken nearly cried tears of joy when he watched you two slaughter a gang of Rotlings trying to rob the store with absolute glee together. When the entire gang was practically mincemeat, you and Mel’s similar deranged laughs echoed through shop as Ken heart melted at the sight of his wife and daughter together.

• Like mother, like daughter, right?

“Ken, are you crying, mate?”

“With pride, Mud…with pride…”

• Even though your marriage is perfect, it’s not unheard of you two getting into fights. Usually it happens when it comes to regarding Mel’s safety from The Gaslight District. Of course, it would never get physical though.

• The outcome of these fights would never be pretty, but in the end, you and Ken would always make up and apologize for the conflict you two put each other through. Parenting is never easy, but you two always needed each other to keep things straight.

“Look, (Y/N)…about the things I’ve said before I-“

“No, no. It’s alright, Ken. I know you want what’s best for Mel. It’s just that…it’s really difficult…”

“I know. But, all I know is that we’re together in this and I know you have my back…”

• You and Ken would always love to go back on old memories together. You two would usually sit on the couch looking at old pictures of the family and talk about your favorite old times together.

• Mel, Breadhead, and Mud would often join in on these conversations. Mud really took time to remember each and every moment you, him and Ken spent together. Of course, he would always poke fun at you two being gushy over one another.

• And everyday, you and Ken always take the time out of your day’s to remind each other how much you love one another. You two would usually find romantic ways to pass up the time whenever you two were alone, either in a sweet or spicy way.

•You can’t imagine yourself being with another man other than Ken. Your life has changed so much for the better with your amazing husband. As for Ken, he feels the happiest man on earth whenever he sees you every day. Proposing to you was the best choice he’s ever made in his life.

• As the killer couple of The Smiling Dead, you two have made quite a reputation together. Every Rotling in the Gaslight District knew better than to oppose one of you two, knowing that you have each other’s back always. A mafia couple so strong that not even death could bring you two part.

#horror #the gaslight district x reader #gaslight district x reader #the gaslight district mel #ken the butcher x reader #tgd breadhead #breadhead #the gaslight district mud #tgd x reader #tgd ken #tgd mud #tgd melancholy #tgd #mel the gaslight district

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wonderjanga · 3 months ago

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How I Met My Kids (They’re Not My Kids)

This is a part two of this post, and inspired by this repost on said post.

Green Arrow(GA): “What do you mean you just found him under a bridge?”

Marvel: “I mean that I found him under a bridge.”

GA: “Doing what???”

Marvel: “He was just half kinda starving, half kinda laying there.”

This was before Billy had gotten his job as a radio host. He was trying to find somewhere warm and out of the rain and he happened upon Freddy under a bridge. The boy was in fact, starving, and the reason he was laying on the ground was because someone stole his makeshift crutch.

//mini flashback//

Billy: “Uh…” *looks at the loaf of bread he stole, then at Freddy*

Freddy: *laying on the ground, his bad leg propped on a box*

Billy: *looks back at his loaf of bread, stomach grumbles*

Freddy: *startles cause he heard that and bolts up, focusing on Billy*

Billy: *awkwardly stands there for a bit with his bread before holding it out*

//mini flashback end//

And boom. That’s how a friendship was born. They ended up sharing the loaf together under the bridge. Like this. Imagine two Orihimes from bleach eating bread together.

Meanwhile, during this retelling, the JL are looking around at each other because, while that’s absolutely wholesome, they’re still missing some details. Like, the way Marvel tells the story makes it sound like they were both homeless. If they were both homeless, no social worker would’ve ever allowed Junior to be placed in his care. So what in the world happened between them sharing bread, and now? Also, where does Mary fit into this? Was she also a little homeless girl?

Wondy: “Wait, then what of Mary??”

Marvel: “What about her?”

Aquaman: “If you met Junior under a bridge, how in the world did you meet her??”

Marvel: “Oh, we met at a circus.”

(They actually did in Shazam: The Monster Society of Evil)

Batman: *Dick Grayson flashback* “Pardon?”

Marvel: “Pardon wha—”

Supes: “Ignore him. We’d love it if you could tell us how you met her.”

Marvel: “Oh, okay!”

//mini-flashback//

Billy had snuck behind the circus and was staring at the lion cages, looking in wonder.

Billy: *staring at the lions*

Mary: *comes up and also stares at the lions*

Billy and Mary: *stare together in silence*

Mary: “They’re pretty, aren’t they?”

Billy: “Yeah, but they’re not as cool as tigers.”

Mary: “Wait really?” *looks to him*

Billy: *looks to her* “Uh… Ye—”

Mary: “I think the same! But no one ever agrees with me!” *starts yapping about tigers*

Billy: *listens, enraptured*

Bromfields: *in the distance* “Mary! Mary, where are you?!”

Mary: “Aw crap…”

Billy: “Are those your parents?”

Mary: “Yeah.”

Billy: *silence, except for the Bromfields still yelling for her*

Mary: “I’m Mary by the way.”

//mini flashback end//

Marvel: “Man, I learned so much about tigers that day.”

Aquaman: “Wait, so Mary already had a family?”

Marvel: “Yeah?”

Supes: “Then… how did you get custody of her?”

Marvel: “Huh?”

Supes: “Well, it’s just, you guys aren’t blood related so…”

Marvel: “What? No, we are.”

JL: “Huh??”

Marvel: “Yeah, she’s my sister.”

JL: “Huh???”

Flash: “But you’re so much older than her?”

Marvel: “So?”

Flash: “There’s like a 20 year gap between you two!”

Marvel: *has to pause and process that before remembering he looks like a grown man* “So?”

Flash: “So why is there a 20 year gap between you two?”

Marvel: *shrugs*

Batman: “How do you not know?”

Marvel: *shrugs again*

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #mary batson #mary bromfield #freddy freeman #mary marvel #captain marvel jr

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tender-rosiey · 1 year ago

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What would happen if gojo has 2 babies? And they both start crying at the same time and poor gojo has to find a solution in this situation 🥲 his younger baby that is only months old starts crying which makes the older sibling that's 2 years older wake up and starts crying 😭

little voice — gojo satoru x f!reader

you’re on a girls’ vacation. it’s okay. it’s cool.

but it isn’t.

throughout his entire life of fighting curses, emotional trauma, technique training, and unending migraines, he has never felt so much stress like he does right now.

his two kids are truly angels: full of kindness, compassion and—as expected of a child of gojo satoru—full of mischief.

they also share the same amount of love he has for you and, of course, even more. so separate two kids who adore their mother and you get chaos.

satoru just found out that the one who keeps the balance in the house is you, and thinking back about it, it should’ve been obvious because everyone in this house listens to you.

for example, one time when you were out on a simple visit to nanami to take some of the sweet bread he has, you had strictly told satoru to put the two kids to sleep at 8:30 exactly.

he thought it’s too early, but then you explained to him that s/n sleeping gave him time and freedom to look after your baby daughter who was, admittedly, a handful that would not sleep unless she was carried.

so satoru obediently listened, or at least he tried to.

a shameful failed trial at that.

in his defense, what was he supposed to do when s/n gave him puppy eyes asked for a mere 10 minutes more, say no? of course not!

so, like the great father he is, he gave him a couple more minutes, and nothing will make satoru regret his decision since to him his son’s smile is worth the world.

…except maybe the chandelier that is now on the floor and his precious baby daughter who just took one the biggest poops he has known of and his son who is panicking about how to clean this mess before you come home.

and come home you did and to all this mess.

swiftly, you picked up your daughter and changed her diaper, even making her giggle and squeal in between.

then you hugged your son and cleaned up the shattered glass together and disposed of the chandelier. lastly, you stood in front of your husband with a big frown after you’ve put the kids to sleep.

satoru could swear that he couldn’t fall more in love with you. hell, he could even twirl you around and kiss you breathless, but he feels like that would just lead him to the couch.

so he works to butter you up first before trying anything, “hey my sweet cute honeypie—“

you simply quirk an eyebrow.

and he falls to his knees, “I am sorry! I just couldn’t resist his puppy eyes! you should’ve seen them; he looked so cute!”

“I saw them a million times before he was even born, ‘toru.”

your husband gasps, “how!?”

“our son is an exact copy of you, sweetie.”

so yeah that was one of too many times, and if it isn’t apparent that you are the mediator then satoru wants to let the world know that even his students listen to you.

like that one time at school when the first years were caught up fighting with each other, the second years were trying to pull them apart, and satoru was too busy cackling at them while holding d/n that no one noticed panda’s little tail being—god knows why—on fire, not even panda himself.

that was until your precious son tugged at your husband’s shirt and pointed at panda, saying a simple sentence (phrase), “papa, panda fire.”

satoru’s eyes zero on panda then they widen, before he gapes, “oh shit, you’re right!”

“bad word!”

“sorry!”

however, despite satoru almost bolting to put out the fire, panda was finally able to smell it and hummed, “something’s being cooked.” then he looked at his tail, “oh it’s me.”

hit the panic button.

“I am being cooked!” he screams and starts running around, “panda meat doesn’t taste good; I promise!”

the rest start running after him with the intention to help, but panda could only translate it into one thing as he screamed, “don’t eat me!!”

“no one is gonna eat you, dumbass!!” maki yelled but to no avail as no one could get to the panicked panda.

your husband is running as well, half taking photos and videos and half ensuring that d/n does not fall from his hands—considering how she keeps giggling, squealing, and wriggling her entire body.

ijichi took matters into his own hands and called the only person he knows will be able to solve this.

“hello?”

“panda is on fire, the kids are running after him, and gojo is just recording!” he wails, eyes frantically following said people then straying to a particularly small person, “also s/n is trying to eat the grass.”

“what?!”

and like lightning, you’re on the field. you lightly scold s/n and tell him to cover his ears.

you turn to the walking fire hazard and scream, “everyone stop! and panda get over here!”

“yes ma’am!”

he stands still in front of you, almost ignoring his ‘fiery’ tail. you effectively put it out and ruffle his fur until he calms down. the others take turns in greeting you and getting their daily dose of motherly hugs.

your son sprints to you and holds onto your leg, refusing to let go.

and they all make way for the star of the show: the all-mighty gojo satoru.

he beams, “wifey, yet again you save the day!”

he easily picks up s/n and pulls the four of you into one big hug. he rubs his cheek against yours, “have I told you how much I love you?”

“I was gone for 3 minutes.”

“I haven’t?!” he gasps, completely ignoring you, “I am a terrible husband!”

he sobs and starts slowly melting to the ground where he believes a ‘disrespectful, good-for-nothing husband who doesn’t tell his wife just how much he loves her’.

anyway, back to the present. the kids have been miraculously put to sleep—a process that satoru does not have the time nor the energy to describe.

when he stops ‘reminiscing ‘, he starts paling at the fact that all of these were mere examples of things going wrong without you, and you were in the freaking area.

now, you’re not 10 steps away, and satoru is feeling very threatened.

he is sprawled out on the couch, eye bags ever so prominent. he sighs and lets his head fall back, grateful for the silence that fills the house, but he hates it at the same time.

satoru was never fond of silence—the type that feels so heavy on the heart—even when he was a teenager. it gives space and time to think about all the things he is desperate to avoid.

he did eventually come to love silence but only the silence that accompanies the times he spends with you, but that’s a story for another time though.

opening his eyes, he looks around and his gaze lands on your recent family photo. his smile is almost instantaneous.

if there’s anything he will rub in suguru’s face when they meet is that he managed to score himself such a lovely wife and an adoring family, a real family. he mentally writes a plus one on the score chart between him and suguru then relaxes.

he would like to scurry to the bed where your scent still lingers, but his fatigue has simply chained him to the couch—he is overreacting you’re only gone for three days.

so, he decides, it’s time to rest and hope for a dream where he gets to hold you and live with his longing until he can feel your lips against his skin again.

the great gojo satoru closes his eyes and welcomes his slumber.

that is until, his little sweetheart decides to breakout into a wail, effectively causing her dad’s eyes to snap open.

he jumps to his feet and sprints to her room, “d/n, what’s wrong, honey?”

he softly cradles her in his—gigantic—arms and starts rocking her slowly. “it’s okay; papa’s here,” he murmurs in hopes of calming down, but his daughter doesn’t register his voice yet.

she can, however, feel his all too familiar chest against her cheek, so she grips at it tightly and continues crying.

satoru’s expression is full of distress, and his heart contracts painfully at how his daughter’s cries. then it’s almost like the entire world is against him right now because he also starts to hear small little sniffles from the door of the room.

your husband looks back to find his son dragging his teddy bear with him in one hand and in another, trying to wipe his tears as much as possible.

your husband quickly shifts d/n into one arm and leads s/n into him with the other. your son nuzzles into his dad’s chest and murmurs, “I want mama.”

almost like she understands the mention of you, she calms down a tiny bit and her hands start reaching for the air—reaching for you.

satoru slides down to the ground and pulls them both into his chest, and he starts rubbing s/n’s shoulder and kisses the top of his head and sighs, “me too, s/n, but, hey, we are strong and capable, so we have to hold on until she comes home, right?”

a little sniffle escapes s/n as he nods before saying a soft, “yeah.”

satoru smiles and ruffles his hair, “that’s my champ.”

s/n lets out a little smile and snuggles into his dad’s embrace.

so satoru shifts his attention to the sniffling baby in his arm, he frowns, “now what are we going to do with you, little missy?”

your son purses his lips for a moment, before placing the teddy bear in his hands into his little sister’s tiny arms. curiosity takes over for a moment, and she starts exploring the new item.

then s/n presses on the teddy bear’s chest and it plays a little voice message from you:

“hey sweetie! mama loves you, so don’t worry about those nightmares! I am always here.”

your daughter’s eyes shine and she hugs the teddy as much as possible and utters a small, “ma!”

satoru blinks owlishly then looks at s/n with smile, “so you had that all along?”

s/n nods slowly and holds into his father tighter, obviously getting tired and getting ready to sleep. satoru would love to say the same about his other angel but—oh she fell asleep.

looks like all it took was a little listen to your voice.

he will probably make you record a thousand voice messages when you come back and make you get him his own special build-a-bear as well cause what the hell? what about your husband?

he shakes the thought away, realizing that he can finally fall asleep, albeit on the floor.

with no blanket.

no pillow.

not even his favorite cushion.

but he wasn’t raised to be ungrateful, so he will take what he can get. he will simply make up for lost sleep when you’re back. it will feel better that way in any case.

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo imagine #gojou satoru x reader #jjk imagines #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jjk x y/n #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo x you #jjk gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #gojo fluff

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quin-ns · 2 years ago

Text

Always Forever (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

Word count: 8.2K

Summary: coriolanus finally lets himself acknowledge that he can’t stand to see you with anyone but him

Tags: (18+), cw: dubcon, cw: noncon, pseudo!incest (not related, reader raised with the snows), dark!coriolanus, pre-mentor era, jealousy/obsession/possessiveness, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, fear of getting caught, lots of drama for my lovely readers

A/N: second coryo fic and it’s somehow longer than the last one lol. only one part. pls read the tags and proceed with caution 🫶

Misc masterlist + main masterlist

“Look at you, you look so pretty!” Tigris beamed, adjusting the straps of your dress. “Doesn’t she, Coryo?”

In his peripheral, Coriolanus could see his cousin had turned to look at him expectantly, but his eyes were already on you. They always had been, and always would be.

“Yes, she does,” he replied without thought.

You faced him with a smile, and Coriolanus couldn’t help the pride that swarmed him just looking at you.

It was because of him that you were in his life, and until the day he died Coriolanus knew it would remain the best decision he ever made.

As children during the war, when he and Tigris would scavenge the streets, Coriolanus stumbled across you. Not much younger than him, huddled behind a pillar, all alone. You had a half a loaf of bread. It wasn’t fresh, but he still didn’t understand where you got it. You tore it in half and shared it with him.

He returned to Tigris with you in tow, his small hand clutching your even smaller one, and his cousin took pity.

She also took the brunt of the consequence for bringing home another mouth to feed, but sacrifices had to be made, didn’t they?

It was worth it. You were worth it to him—to both of them, really.

As you got older, Grandma’am eventually took a liking to you, although Coriolanus wondered if it was because she could see how much he cared for you.

It didn’t matter. Not really. You were part of the family now, even if you did not share the Snow name.

“Thank you, Tigris,” you said sweetly, pulling the older girl into a hug.

It was a big day for both you and Coriolanus. The academy was hosting an event for students to mingle with administration and alumni of the university.

Coriolanus had put on his best outfit—he already knew it was the same one he was going to wear when the Plinth Prize winner was announced in only a few weeks. He was sure it was going to be him.

Tigris had fashioned your dress by hand. Coriolanus was past questioning how she paid for her fine fabrics, but he had an inclination it was the same way they could suddenly afford food some days.

The long dress reminded Coriolanus of freshly fallen snow, the white holding a sense of purity and wealth that his family once had. It had a sense of elegance that you only furthered with donning it, but it lacked an extravagance that would force you to stand out.

It was perfect.

You parted from Tigris to approach Coriolanus. You had a light smile on your face as your hands ran down his black vest, adjusting it.

“We almost match,” you commented, referring to the white shirt beneath said vest. “If only I had something black.”

“Well, I’d let you borrow this, but then we’d be in the same position, only switched,” he teased lightly, drawing a small chuckle from you.

Coriolanus liked when you looked up at him, same as he liked hearing your laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll survive without.” Your hands fell to your sides. “Besides, it definitely looks more handsome on you.”

Hearing those words from you meant more than you’d ever know, and more than he’d let himself acknowledge.

You were so good to him, he couldn’t imagine spending the evening with anyone else.

When he walked into the ballroom of the academy with you on his arm, Coriolanus got a rush of power. Especially when heads turned. Looking at him, looking at you, just looking.

He wondered what the minds behind all those gazing eyes were thinking.

He hoped it was a balanced amount of envy and respect.

“We should find Sejanus, let him know we’re here,” you said, not thinking much of the sentence as you looked around the room, taking in the people and the decor.

Coriolanus thought everything of it, a sourness settling over him. Sejanus was his friend, but Coriolanus wished they hadn’t gotten as close as they did. It was because of his friendship with Sejanus that you met him, and began to develop… feelings for him.

God, Coriolanus hated to even think about it.

When you told him you had begun dating Sejanus, Coriolanus nearly had a heart attack. Then he felt violent. Not towards you. Never towards you.

It wasn’t just because he felt protective of you, or because Sejanus was district, or because Coriolanus knew you were far, far too good for his friend… it was everything. All of that and everything in between.

Before you could find him, Sejanus found you.

He was in a fine black suit, finer than anything Coriolanus owned, and a bright smile appeared on his face at the sight of you.

That was one thing they still had in common. Reverence for you.

“Had to come find my girl before everyone thinks she ditched me,” Sejanus joked, pulling a laugh from you. “Where have you guys been?”

“Making sure we look our best,” you replied, shooting Coriolanus a wink.

If Sejanus wasn’t reaching for you, Coriolanus might’ve smiled.

“Well, you did a wonderful job.”

Coriolanus let you slip away from his side, reluctantly giving you away to Sejanus.

The unfortunate thing was Sejanus was truly a decent person. Not perfect, but decent. Better than most, even if he was beneath you all. You cared nothing for status, and seemed to really like him. He treated you right from what Coriolanus had seen, making disapproval not exactly warranted.

Although, Coriolanus was always going to be incredibly protective of you. He doubted there was a world where he would be pleased with any relationship you found. Your interest in other people was becoming tiresome, truthfully. Did you really even need friends? Or lovers? You had Coriolanus, and he was sure that was enough.

His jaw clenched when you pressed a light kiss to Sejanus’s cheek. It would be much simpler if he was a terrible person. Coriolanus would have an excuse outside of his own selfishness to separate you—which he did not have now.

“Can I ask for this dance?” Sejanus wondered, shooting you a smile. At least he had the awareness to still look anxious.

But you… you grinned. You were too good.

“Well you just asked, so I guess you can,” you started sarcastically, but let him off the hook quickly. “And of course I’ll say yes.”

Sejanus looked relieved, taking your hand in his. You turned to look at Coriolanus, a small bit of guilt in your expression. You clearly hadn’t been planning on leaving his side so soon. You masked it with the same teasing tone you’d used before.

“I won’t be long, don’t get too bored without me, Coryo.”

Coriolanus only smiled for your sake. It fell the moment Senjanus led you away to a small group of other students dancing together.

From the sidelines, Coriolanus watched as Sejanus led you in a slow dance. He tried to avoid his eyes landing on his friend. He didn’t want to view the two of you in the same light as the other couples embracing one another.

Coriolanus tried to remember the first moment he realized how beautiful you were. It was so long ago, it wasn’t something he was even aware he thought so often.

The sun rose in the morning, roses had thorns, and you were beautiful.

It was simple as that.

After a dance and a half, Coriolanus couldn’t take it anymore.

His feet carried him to the dance floor, mind absent as he tried to justify his jealousy as protectiveness. Yes, that’s all he was. Protective. Like an older brother… like what he was supposed to be. Even if it wasn’t what he wanted to be.

You and Sejanus were swaying and talking, but as he snuck up on the two of you, Coriolanus couldn’t make out the words. It didn’t matter.

You turned your head to look at him, smiling in surprise at his presence.

“Coryo!”

“Can I cut in?” Coriolanus requested. His hand itched to rest on your shoulder, but he withheld. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and he briefly wondered if Sejanus sensed that or not.

“All yours,” Sejanus agreed, spinning you by the hand. You turned in a circle, then a half, facing Coriolanus. “I’m going to go find my father, he’s here tonight,” he informed.

“I’ll come find the two of you in a few minutes,” you told Sejanus, who nodded then headed off. Before he did, he looked to Coriolanus and said, “Take good care of her.”

“I always do,” Coriolanus responded easily, because it was the truth. He didn’t need Sejanus telling him that. He’d been there for you long before either of you even knew his friend existed. He looked down to you, taking your hand in his while the other fell to your waist. You looked amused. “I do, don’t I?”

“Yes, Coryo,” you replied with a smile. “Better than anyone.”

The slow waltz felt so natural, your movements in tune with his without thought. You two were always like that, always in sync.

“What were you and Sejanus talking about?” Coriolanus wondered, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Nothing important,” you dismissed with a shrug. “Sweet nothings.”

Coriolanus didn’t miss the shy smile appearing on your face. He couldn’t control the frown trying to take over his.

A more thoughtful look crossed your face, your smile faltering.

“Are you happy for me, Coryo?”

Coriolanus blinked.

“I… want to be,” he confessed, eyes scanning your face. It was the truth for the most part. He did want you to be happy, just not with Sejanus.

You nodded slowly, taking in his words. Coriolanus wished he could open your head and investigate every corner of your brain. He wanted to know every thought you had.

“Sejanus is your friend, I would’ve thought…” you swallowed and looked away. “Never mind.”

“No, what is it?” Coriolanus pressed, tilting his head, trying to make you meet his gaze.

When you did, he saw the disappointment in your eyes.

You stepped back from him, parting completely.

“I need to find Sejanus. I’ll put in a good word for you about the Plinth Prize with his father.”

Then, you departed, not leaving room for Coriolanus to argue for you to stay.

He would’ve, and you knew that.

The moment you disappeared from his view, Coriolanus went looking. You had moved quickly. He found you across the room, sitting down at a table with Sejanus and Mr. Plinth.

He didn’t approach, he couldn’t make himself look bad in front of Mr. Plinth.

So he watched you talk, and drink, and laugh, and drink some more…

“I can’t believe she’s doing this,” Arachne whispered, suddenly appearing at his side. Coriolanus looked down at her. She was clearly talking about you. He could see the way she flicked her heavily decorated eyes in your direction. “Associating with him was one thing, but… well”—Arachne let out a vicious laugh—“do you think their children will call her “Ma” too?”

Coriolanus felt ill at the thought. Leave it to Arachne to provoke him, to conjure up nightmares he hadn’t even thought of yet himself.

“She’ll come to her senses,” Coriolanus muttered, gritting his teeth.

Arachne rolled her eyes. “Let’s hope so,” she mused, continuing on her way, blood red dress dragging behind her with each step.

Coriolanus looked back to you. He was overwhelmed with nausea as Sejanus grabbed your hand atop the table. Damn Arachne for placing that thought in his head.

He watched as you lifted another glass to your lips, smiling along as Sejanus talked to his father. What was that, your third? Sejanus had yet to say anything to you. He was fine with allowing you to get intoxicated?

Drinking alcohol wasn’t exactly a crime, but Sejanus didn’t know you well enough to know you were inexperienced. The last thing Coriolanus wanted was you making a fool of yourself.

Darker thoughts crept in. Maybe Sejanus was allowing you to inebriate yourself on purpose. The thought of him climbing on top to you made Coriolanus’s blood boil. His fingers twitched to form a fist, and his jaw clenched even tighter.

In that moment, Coriolanus decided he wouldn’t let Arachne’s mockery come true.

He had to help you. You needed his protection, even when you didn’t know it. You needed him. You always would. Coriolanus could remind you, then perhaps you'd see you didn’t even need Sejanus at all.

When you left the table—Coriolanus wasn’t sure why—he saw his opportunity. He approached you quickly, finding no problem in catching your arm and leading you away from the party. Away from all the people, where it could just be the two of you.

Out a door, down a long, empty corridor until the two of you ended up outside in the school’s garden. It was isolated from the party, you’d be safer here.

“Coryo? What—“

“Are you alright?” Coriolanus asked, cutting you off. He released you to stand across from you, leaving you to lean back against the stone wall behind you. “I saw how much you were drinking.”

You looked up at him, confused, but not frightened. If anyone else had handled you the way he did, you surely would’ve been. But you trusted him. You always had.

“Did I drink a lot?” you asked, a slight pout on your lips. “I didn’t notice.”

“Oh.” So, you were okay. That was good, wasn’t it? “I thought maybe you needed rescuing,” he admitted, unsure whether to feel embarrassed or not.

You chuckled a little and the sound washed over Coriolanus, bringing him a sense of relief from all his previous tension.

“My hero,” you said lightly, smiling up at him. You were always smiling at him, but Coriolanus no longer wondered if he was worthy of it all. “You’re always there for me, aren’t you?”

Coriolanus stepped closer. His hand rose, his fingertips trailing the outline of your face. Someone so pretty, so sweet, had to be careful in a cruel world like this.

“What would you do without me?” he proposed, not expecting an answer.

You didn’t need one, because you never would have to find out.

He’d follow you to the end of the Earth, just as he knew you’d follow him. You needed each other. You didn’t need Tigris or Grandma’am and especially not Sejanus, but without Coriolanus, who would you even be? Coriolanus couldn’t imagine his world without you in it. Not even if he tried.

Staring at you now, Coriolanus heard the voice in the back of his mind begin to whisper. The one that urged his protectiveness, knowing it was fueled by possession. The one he would use all his power to silence.

Something new had overcome him, watching you galavant around with Sejanus. Well, not new, but clear. Coriolanus finally had clarity. That’s what it was. That was how he finally acknowledged what had so long been lingering in his peripheral, just on the edge of his mind, waiting for the right moment.

Was this the right moment?

He made no effort to banish his most repressed thoughts. For once, he let them win.

Coriolanus leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. Gentle, testing the waters. You did not react right away. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily a good sign, but that didn’t stop him from using it as an excuse to deepen the kiss.

His other hand found your face, holding you against him as he nipped at your lip, begging you to invite him in.

Your reaction was delayed, and Coriolanus thought maybe, just maybe, you had been thinking the same thing he had all along. That the faint taste of alcohol on your lips meant you were feeling more open to exploring this with him, and that all you needed was a nudge in the right direction.

But no, you were turning your head, making his lips part from yours.

Coriolanus faltered, but you still did not speak. Your breaths were clipped—flustered and confused. He could understand that. His own heart was racing, although adrenaline and need were to blame for that.

“Coryo…” you whispered so softly he nearly didn’t hear it. “What are you doing?”

Leave it to you to not get angry with him. Or even upset. At this point he questioned if you were even capable of feeling anger at him.

Coriolanus stepped closer, making you have to tilt your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think I can share you,” he confessed under his breath, but with conviction. “I know I can’t and you… you don’t need anyone else. You have me.”

You swallowed, eyes looking down. “Sejanus—“

“Doesn’t know you like I do,” Coriolanus finished, one hand still holding your cheek, tilting your head, making you meet his eye again. “Seeing you with him… he’s not good enough for you.”

“I thought you were above judging him for being district.” You sounded so disappointed in him.

“I don’t care that he’s district, he’s not good enough because no one will ever be,” Coriolanus corrected, imploring you to understand.

With a light sigh, his eyes fell shut. Gently, he leaned to press his forehead to yours. He blindly reached for your hands, and found them in each of his with no problem.

“I would not be happy seeing you with anyone else,” Coriolanus confessed, voice low. “Not anyone but me.”

You inhaled slightly. Was it that big of a shock?

He gave you no chance to voice it because Coriolanus was capturing your lips again, passion erupting in his veins.

His mind was clouded with thoughts that fought for center attention, his built up desires controlling him as his hands and lips cascaded down your body. Your neck, your chest, your stomach—

“Coryo, what are you doing?” you questioned when he began to move lower.

“Shh, don’t worry,” he cooed, dismissing your concern.

Coriolanus finally fell to his knees in front of you. He’d never take such a humiliating position for anyone else. But with you, it didn’t feel humiliating. It was exhilarating, knowing he was on his knees worshiping you, but he still held all the power. It was nearly perfect.

You gasped a little when he gripped your right leg and maneuvered it over his shoulder. More of your weight rested back against the wall, unable to stand straight on just one leg.

He looked upward, watching your face the entire time as he pushed your dress up around your hips, revealing your underwear to him.

Coriolanus was so close and you had yet to move.

Words couldn’t find their way to his lips. It was all too overwhelming in the best way. His heart slamming against his rib cage was a welcome feeling, and so was the pressure on his knees.

You bucked away before his mouth could reach your core. Coriolanus didn’t think much of it. He had a lot of other images rushing through his brain. Ones he wanted to become reality.

He scooted forward and tried again, this time making contact with the layer of fabric separating him from your most intimate spot.

Coriolanus heard a choked noise from you as he ran his tongue across the front of your underwear.

Right away, he wanted more.

His hands found the material acting as a barrier and he gripped it then pulled, tearing it from you one leg at a time, exposing you to him.

Before it could fall to the ground, he caught the shredded material and stuffed it into his pocket.

He felt a bit guilty, knowing how little you all had when it came to clothing, but he wanted to do this the right way. Coriolanus wanted nothing blocking him from showing you how good he could make you feel.

As much as his eyes were tempted to linger, impatience got the best of him.

He made contact again, licking a stripe across your bare cunt. Once he got a taste, Coriolanus couldn’t hold back.

His mouth latched onto you, tongue sliding between your folds, drawing a stifled moan from you. You reached for his head, trying to knock him away, but Coriolanus persisted. His will easily overtook yours. You weren’t going to take this away from him, not when he could make you want it just as bad.

He held onto the leg over his shoulder, gripping your flesh, surely leaving bruises in his wake. He held the skirt of your dress up with the other hand. With his mouth, he devoured you. Lapping at your core like a man starved, even more so when wetness began to form.

This wasn’t something Coriolanus had done, but he knew you better than anyone. He was sure he could figure out your body. He’d dreamt about it long enough, making you fall apart for him in such an intimate way.

He soon found that to be the truth when in only a matter of minutes your body was tensing. He continued to drag his tongue across you, giving every bit of you his full attention. He liked the way your thighs quivered when his tongue brushed your clit, it gave him an excuse to hold you tighter.

Your whole body flinched suddenly, but he shoved your hips back, pinning you to the wall as he brought you to the edge

His own pants felt constricted as his senses were overwhelmed by you. Your taste, your scent, the sound of your choked down moans, your hands smacking the wall (unsure what else to do), the feel of you against his tongue and how your leg strained over his shoulder, and the sight of you when he looked up through his lashes… god, you were magnificent.

You whimpered from above, teeth digging into your bottom lip, as he finally made you come undone.

Coriolanus held you still, relishing in the way you finally jolted into his touch instead of away.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were the stuff of dreams in the most literal sense.

Your head tilted back against the wall, your ragged breaths causing your chest to rise and fall in an unsteady pattern. Your leg, still draped over his shoulder, was tense, even as he pressed a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.

A wide grin spread across Coriolanus’s face when you shivered. He couldn’t help himself. He nearly chuckled at your state, but then your hand moved to rake through his wavy locks. The sound caught in his throat as you tugged him away, finally looking down at him. The all consuming pleasure had faded into something more composed.

Coriolanus could tell how much of an effort you were making, and as your eyes struggled to focus, he briefly wondered how strong your drinks were.

“I’d like to go home now,” you said slowly, conscious not to let your voice falter.

You allowed him to help get both to your feet on the ground, but you did not touch him for the rest of the night, even when he tried to reach for you.

He was still hard behind the confines of his pants, imagining the slickness between your thighs that was the result of his actions. As you walked back through the ballroom, it took everything he had to not push you back against a nearby wall. People be damned, he wanted you more than anything.

He would press his chest to your back—no, he’d make you face him. Coriolanus wanted access to your lips so he could kiss you as much as he liked, even swallow down your moans when he lifted your dress around your stomach and—

A shiver of excitement coursed through Coriolanus’s body. What would your darling Sejanus think if he knew what just transpired? If he knew it was only for your dignity that Coriolanus wasn’t fucking you against the wall hard enough that you forgot where you even were?

You silently bid the party a farewell, forgetting to say goodbye to Sejanus (Coriolanus made no attempts to remind you). You continued to ignore him, hardly speaking and not even looking his way. Not as you walked from the school to the apartment. Stumbling up the stairs, you only spoke to claim you were fine as you gripped the handrail for dear life. Then you went back to silence as you traveled from the front door to your bedroom and locked the door.

Coriolanus only found out about the door because he’d tried to follow you in, but the door knob did not budge. You never used your lock.

Even if you weren’t ready to finish what had been started, it was still incredibly cold. Were you really upset enough to deprive him of your presence until the morning?

“What’s going on with you?” Coriolanus asked through the layer of wood. The taste of you still lingered on his tongue as it traced his bottom lip, waiting for your response. “Can we talk? Can you open the door?”

He gripped the knob tighter and tried again. It wasn’t going to suddenly unlock, but something urged him to prove it.

There was a faint thud as his forehead fell to the door, much as it had to yours not too long ago.

“Can I at least say goodnight to you?”

Again, no response.

He swallowed. Cleared his throat.

Again.

“Please?”

If they could afford to fix it, Coriolanus would break the door down.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood outside your door before begrudgingly going to his own room.

He laid in his bed and fished the underwear from his pocket. Your scent still lingered on them, and it was enough to fuel his imagination as he unbuttoned his pants and pretended his own hand on his cock was yours.

Even after finishing, Coriolanus had a nearly sleepless night. His mind was plagued with memories of his lips on yours, your dress bunched around your hips, him on his knees with his mouth on your cunt. He’d never forget the sounds you made.

When the sun rose, he returned to your door, only to find it still locked. He didn’t even knock, just simply grabbed the door knob and twisted.

You always woke up early for school, putting yourself together in a way that could reflect wealth that you did not truly have. Coriolanus was sure you did it for his sake, knowing how much appearances mattered to him.

You were good to him like that.

If only you’d let him in now.

The laugh that escaped him lacked humor. It was a bitter, frustrated sound.

His hands rested on his hips, his own fingertips pressing in. It was that or gripping the door knob and if he touched that thing again and found it locked…

“This isn’t funny anymore, Y/N,” Coriolanus called through the door. “If there’s a problem we can talk about it. Just stop acting like a child.”

“What, did she steal your blazer again?” Tigris wondered, appearing out of nowhere. Despite her voice being soft with sleep, Coriolanus was still startled.

“No, just a minor disagreement,” Coriolanus replied, quick on his feet as always. “Nothing to worry about, I’m sure we’ll talk it out.”

He emphasized the word ‘talk’, hoping you’d hear him through the door. If you did, he wouldn’t know. Tigris, on the other hand, just nodded and headed for the kitchen.

The smile he gave his cousin on her way was forced. She couldn’t tell that his teeth were clenched together, which was for the best.

A thought dawned on him. You could just be testing him.

Coriolanus knocked on the door and waited, like he’d just solved your puzzle.

What was that thing about insanity—trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?

“You’re going to have to come out of your room at some point,” he reminded, trying his best to make it not sound like a warning.

Coriolanus wasn’t used to being frustrated with you. You were usually his relief from people who made him feel this way. He didn’t understand why everything changed all of the sudden.

You’d enjoyed yourself while he got what he wanted. Why was that so bad?

You had always been an enigma, but Coriolanus felt as if he’d come to understand you—that he was the only one who did or would.

Sejanus would never know you the way he did, that was for certain.

From in your room, Coriolanus heard movement. Your dresser opening, maybe. It didn’t matter. You were awake. And ignoring him.

“Y/N? I know you’re awake.” The neediness in his voice was embarrassing. No one else could make him resort to this. “I can hear you. Are you coming out?”

“What is going on?” Grandma’am questioned, standing at the end of the hall. “You aren’t dressed for school. We can’t have you being late.”

Coriolanus looked down at himself. He’d gone to sleep in the outfit he’d worn the night before, and still wore it now.

Arguments died in his throat. You and Coriolanus walked to the academy together. You’d have to come out and talk to him. Grandma’am would drive you crazy if you missed a day of classes.

In record time, Coriolanus was in his uniform.

He might’ve been quick, but apparently you were quicker. As he opened the door to his room, he heard the front door shut.

“Whatever you did, Coryo, apologize,” Tigris advised when he chased the sound of your exit.

Coriolanus just looked at her. Why on Earth would he do that? He’d done nothing wrong.

Down the stairs and out of the building, Coriolanus finally—finally—got a glimpse of you. A flash of red as you turned the corner, setting off down the sidewalk.

It took nothing for him to catch up to you.

“How are you feeling?” he wondered first, recalling your drunken state. “I was worried about you.”

“Were you?” you challenged, eyes forward.

It was good to hear your voice, but Coriolanus furrowed his brows at your tone. You had no reason to be this rude.

“Of course I was, Y/N. How can you even ask me that?” His hand dropped to your shoulder, only for you to shrug it away. “What is wrong with you?”

You looked at him, finally, but the emotion in your gaze… there was something wrong with it. Something distant, lacking the affection those beautiful eyes of yours usually held for him.

Coriolanus swallowed.

“Are you really going to be like this? Is it because of Sejanus? You don’t have to be with him anymore.”

You turned your head forward.

“Leave me alone, I’d like to walk in silence.”

Since when had you become so spiteful? Coriolanus didn’t like it. It evoked something similar in him. He leaned down, getting near your ear.

“You liked it, I know you did,” he hissed out. Coriolanus hadn’t meant for it to come out so harsh, but you were being completely unfair to him right now. “You can’t lie to me.”

Despite the way you shuddered, your jaw remained clenched. You not talking to him was more infuriating than if you had screamed in his face. At least that way he could tell what you were thinking. But no, you wouldn’t allow him to be privy to your inner thoughts, no matter how much effort he put into prying them from you.

It wasn’t a conversation for the public, even Coriolanus knew that, so when you got to the academy a few steps ahead of him, he bit his tongue.

“What did you do to piss off your sister?” Clemensia asked him in a whisper in class. “You’re usually attached at the hip walking in.”

The way she called you his sister felt wrong in a way that it hadn’t before. Even if he never thought it fit when people would say that or assume it, something had shifted.

And was it that obvious? Coriolanus hadn’t even brought it up. He’d simply been a few steps behind you into the classroom. You’d gone to your desk without a word. Was that strange to everyone else too? It was validating, in a way, to know your behavior was, in fact, targeted and odd, but it also made him wonder what the two of you appeared to be from an outside perspective.

“It’s nothing,” Coriolanus lied to her under his breath, keeping his eyes on his paper.

“So you didn’t get into a fight?”

Coriolanus’s brows curved down. He glanced her way.

“A fight?”

“Arachne and Festus saw you pull her away from Sejanus and disappear somewhere last night.”

It was mostly the truth, but she said it so nonchalantly. She couldn’t know what happened after you disappeared. Coriolanus hadn’t seen a single person lay their eyes on either of you in that private moment.

“I get it,” she continued. “I wouldn’t want to be associated with someone from the districts either. She’s not thinking about how she’ll be perceived, or you. Don’t let her drag you down.”

Coriolanus just listened, the night flashing through his mind. No one could’ve known, there was no way.

He quickly corrected the hypocrisy in his own mind. He hadn’t done anything wrong, it was just private. No one else deserved to see you in that state—no one but him.

“We’re fine,” Coriolanus told her. “And her and Sejanus aren’t together anymore.”

Clemensia smirked to herself. “Good.”

Word spread quickly, and with the way you avoided Sejanus—a byproduct of you avoiding Coriolanus—everyone believed it. The final nail was the way you failed to appear at lunch. It got under Sejanus’s skin, causing him to question the state of your relationship without you to answer any said questions.

Truthfully, Coriolanus hadn’t seen anything as amusing in a long while, but your absence weighed on him, too.

The walk home alone was dreadful without you. Even in the morning when you had ignored him, it was better than you being completely gone.

When he got home, your door was shut. How quickly had you left your classes, how fast had you walked, all to avoid him?

This was growing old very, very quickly.

Grandma’am was on the roof with her roses, and Tigris seemed to be missing from the apartment. It was only because of that that Coriolanus devised a way to get into your room.

Why he didn’t think of picking the lock before, Coriolanus supposed it was because he thought you’d give in quicker and let him get the better of you. You were usually weak to him, allowing him to get his way without a problem. You had before.

“Last chance,” Coriolanus called through the locked door. He almost thought that would be enough. He wanted you to open it of your own will. “You can’t avoid me forever, just let me in.”

No such luck.

You looked surprised when he forced the door open, as if you really believed he would just take the loss. You were supposed to know him better than that.

You’d been sitting on your bed in pajamas, evidently already done with the day. Your legs were criss-crossed with a textbook in your lap. You looked up at him, a questioning expression taking over your features.

“What are you doing, Coryo?” you asked, voice low, eyes not quite meeting his directly.

“You weren’t opening the door.�� Coriolanus squared his shoulders. “I wanted to talk to you.”

You shook your head, something between a sigh and a laugh escaping you in a puff of air. Coriolanus did not like the accusatory undertone.

“Did you think maybe I left it locked on purpose?” Were you mocking him? “That I wasn’t lying this morning and I really don’t want to speak to you?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Coriolanus insisted, closing your door behind him. He moved towards your bed, watching your body language the entire time as he finally sat on the edge beside you. “You thought I would just let you ignore me?”

You swallowed, closing the book in your lap. “I guess not,” you admitted, setting the textbook aside. “I am well aware of your ego.”

A frown crested Coriolanus’s lip. “Is that what this is—you want to hurt me?”

You tilted your head, catching his gaze, much like he’d made you do the night before. It was the first time in nearly a day since you’d looked him dead in the eye.

“What do you want, Coryo?”

“I want you”

“You want me to what? Not be with Sejanus? Is that it? Is that why you did what you did?”

“You say that like it was something awful. I was there too.” Coriolanus felt a familiar heat rush through him at the memory. “I know what I saw.”

“You humiliated me.”

“In front of who? No one saw us.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is? Because you know Sejanus is weak?” Coriolanus searched your eyes and leaned in closer. He was feeling antagonistic. “I mean, how could he touch you, knowing I got there first?”

Coriolanus caught your hand as you raised it, presumably to strike him.

“Is that what we’ve resorted to?”

He squeezed your wrist, enough to cause pain. You winced and tried to move away, but Coriolanus wasn’t going to let you get away.

“I could ask you the same,” you sneered, sounding like an entirely different person.

“What has happened to you?” Coriolanus questioned. He took a breath. “Do you want me to be sorry for what I’ve said? Fine, then, I apologize. But I’m not sorry for what I’ve done. You should not be with him.”

“I’m supposed to believe someone driven by jealousy?” you inquired back, blinking back tears. Why were you being so dramatic? “How can I trust anything you have to say to me now?”

Coriolanus was taken aback by the question. Did you really not trust him anymore? Even with the tight hold on your wrist, he could feel you slipping from his grasp. If you were to leave him, he’d never forgive the universe for its twisted irony. Coriolanus put so much time and care into you because he wanted you. His family didn’t, at least not at first, but even so, you’d have nothing if it wasn’t for him. Is that what you wanted to leave him with now? Nothing? Nothing but the memory of when you were his?

No, that wouldn’t do.

It just wouldn’t.

“You can trust me, I promise,” Coriolanus insisted, pleading, even. “I love you, I always have—you can’t have expected me to sit back and do nothing while you…”

You looked more betrayed, if that was even possible. He was trying to make it better but explaining was only making it worse. Coriolanus had never met a person where the more he talked, the more he tried to persuade them, they believed him less. In that way again you were an anomaly.

If Coriolanus couldn’t tell you, he could show you. He had to make you understand—he could salvage this and get what he wanted in the end. If he was anything, it was persistent. It had worked before, excluding the aftermath.

Coriolanus moved, keeping his hold on your wrist as he shoved you down, pulling himself up and then on top of you in a fluid motion.

You squirmed, questioning, “What are you doing?”

Coriolanus caught your other hand and brought it to join your other wrist he already had a hold of in one hand. He straddled your waist, keeping your body pinned.

“You won’t listen to me,” he pointed out. Something inside him urged him to lean down. “But I can still prove it to you, that it’s me you should be with. No one else.”

Then he crashed his lips onto yours. It was more forceful than it had been the previous night, ensuring you couldn’t turn away again. His tongue was already in your mouth before you thought to turn your head.

It didn’t matter if you didn’t kiss him back, Coriolanus was in bliss. Your lips were soft, molding perfectly to his. You moaned into his mouth, or maybe it was a protest, but it made his body heat up all the same. Coriolanus couldn’t get enough of you. Last night left him wanting more, not less.

More than that, he was determined. When he finally detached his lips from yours, the both of you panting, Coriolanus set forth on a track that wouldn’t allow him to turn around.

Even if he tried to take it back, everything would already be changed.

So he didn’t even bother hesitating. Coriolanus was determined, even, at yanking your clothes from your body.

Your words were jumbled by the time they reached his ears. His own heart racing with excitement drowned out any requests you had for him.

The word “stop” left his vocabulary until you yelled it too loud for his liking.

Your whole body shook when he clapped his hand over your mouth. Your top was completely gone, your chest heaving as you breathed through your nose. While Coriolanus could’ve easily been distracted by your state, he trained his eyes on your wide ones.

The word helpless crossed his mind, and he had to take a moment to control himself.

“Grandma’am is upstairs,” Coriolanus finally warned, voice low. “Don’t disturb her.”

You blinked. Coriolanus was almost surprised by the way you settled down, but it told him you understood the implications of alerting her.

Your position beneath Coriolanus had to be better than starving and cold on the street, didn’t it?

You didn’t have Sejanus anymore. If you thought you did, Coriolanus would make sure to remedy that with his friend before you got to him first.

As Coriolanus lifted his hand from your mouth, he silently implored he was the only one who could save you from being branded a liar.

Just as Coriolanus had always admired, you were a quick learner. As heartbroken as you looked, you didn’t raise your voice again.

“This isn’t how you make me want to be with you,” you pleaded. Coriolanus wasn’t sure whether to laugh or take it as a challenge.

“We’ll see,” he mused in response.

He got you bare, and then himself.

You averted your eyes from his body, which offended him more than he thought it would.

“You can look,” Coriolanus said, voice heavy.

Something about his voice must’ve gotten to you, because your eyes flicked between his legs. You swallowed and looked back away.

A prideful smirk overtook Coriolanus’s face.

He moved then, still keeping hold on your wrists in one hand, dragging them down over your belly, and placed himself between your legs.

With one hand still holding your wrists, Coriolanus shoved his other hand in between your legs, two prodding fingers finding your entrance before making their way in. Eagerness won out over his patience. He could take things slow later.

You tensed around him, fighting the intrusion, but he wasn’t going to let you win. Even if you weren’t squirming against him, you were resistant. Coriolanus slowly worked at breaking your resolve, massaging his fingers inside your walls, thumb on your clit.

He could see shame wash over your features when a wetness began to form, coating his fingers and allowing him to work you open for him.

“See, you can lie to me, but your body can’t,” Coriolanus asserted, voice thick with arousal.

That triggered something in you, and perhaps Coriolanus reacted too harshly.

It felt like it all happened in a flash. One moment you were on your back, beneath him, clenching around his fingers, and the next he had to manhandle you onto your chest and knees to fend off your attack and keep you still. He regained his hold on your hands quickly, pinning them behind your back while you panted from the short lived exertion.

Coriolanus leaned down to press his lips to your ear.

“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to fight me,” he growled.

Your shoulders shifted as you found further discomfort in your new position, but you didn’t speak. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your voice—just like before.

Coriolanus wanted to watch your face as you submitted to him and his love for you, but if this was the only way he could have you for now, so be it.

He lined himself up with your entrance, enjoying the twitch of your body as he pressed the tip in.

Despite all the effort to get you where you were now, Coriolanus slid his cock into you with ease. Your body welcomed him, even if you didn’t.

He couldn’t help himself, his hips bucked forward, shoving himself into you deep. You whimpered into the pillow and Coriolanus’s mind went blank for a moment, basking in the feel of your warm cunt around him. It was better than he imagined.

His cock twitched inside of you, eager to fill you, but he had to make this last. Just like before, Coriolanus wanted to make you feel good. So good you had no choice but to want him.

Coriolanus drew his hips back after a few moments of just resting inside you. When only the tip remained, he thrust forward. Your body rocked against the mattress.

He did it again, this time slower. Forcing you to feel the drag of his thick cock inside of you. Coriolanus liked the way your body quivered as you succumbed to the pleasure he could give you.

You felt like heaven, all wet and warm and squeezing around him in a way that made him want to never leave you.

To show he trusted you, Coriolanus let your hands go. They immediately fell to grip the pillow beneath your head. You didn’t go to fight him and that counted for something. He had an ulterior motive, though, because now he could hold your hips with both hands.

He leaned down, pressing kisses to your back. He ran his hands along your skin, drinking the entirety of you in as he moved inside of you.

His movements were a bit slow, calculated, making you feel every inch of him stretching you out. Coriolanus imagined you rocking your hips back, your moans filling the room, eager for more. That would have to be saved for another time when you were more willing.

You body tensed and shivered, and Coriolanus knew you were getting close. You still had yet to speak.

It was petty, the sudden sharp thrust of his hips to shove his cock deep and hard into you.

A gasp—he drew a gasp from you.

He allowed his weight to fully fall on top of you, finally. Your skin was so warm on his chest, it was as if your body was trying to burn him off of you. Maybe it was all in his head. But it didn’t really matter. It was far too late for that.

“It’s okay to want it,” Coriolanus muttered into your ear.

He felt your body reacting and you were moments away from what he’d been pushing you towards. His thrusts grew shallow, not letting too much of himself leave you as you finally came undone.

You buried your face into the pillow, muffling your cry as you finally came around his cock. It was then that he got what he wanted, even if it was only brief. Your body spasmed and pushed back, trying to feel every inch of him stretching you out, clenching down to hold him there.

Coriolanus followed you soon after, cock throbbing in your walls, spilling inside of you and painting them white. He held your hips so tight he was sure he’d leave bruises as he held himself still, letting the both of you experience the sensation in full.

After however long—Coriolanus didn’t count the minutes—he withdrew from your body. He was a gentleman, so he helped you to lay down before your body collapsed on its own.

He laid down beside you, pulling your blanket over the top of both of your bodies with the intention to bring you comfort.

You were wordless, rolling onto your side, facing away from him.

Coriolanus turned with you, wrapping his arms around your midsection and pulling you back to him. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head before resting his lips near your ear.

“Do you really think not talking to me is the best idea?” he whispered, less frustrated than before.

You shook in his arms, but your voice was steady as you asked, “What do you expect me to say to you?”

Coriolanus didn’t have to think all that long.

“That you love me.”

You were silent for a moment, Coriolanus thought he was going to have to repeat himself.

“I did love you,” you uttered, voice threatening to break. “But it wasn’t enough for you.”

Coriolanus could’ve been angry, but he knew he’d win you back. He had all the time in the world, knowing you wouldn’t dare continue your relationship with Sejanus. How could you? You were already spoken for.

You were Coriolanus’s, you always had been. He realized it before you, but he knew you’d come to learn the truth. You’d accept it eventually, and everything would fall into place exactly as he wanted.

#dark!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #yandere coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #quin-ns writing

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dipperpepper77 · 3 months ago

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LADS side character adventures

Tags: Chaos that's all.

Greyson (Zayne): Everyone seemed to think HE was Zayne. The one day that Zayne wasn't at work (on a date with you). People just had the idea that someone of Zayne's status would be older... like Greyson. So? What does he do? Doesn't correct them. He smiles and nods. He spent the lovely day of basking on the compliments Zayne gets. "Oh you are as attractive as they say Dr.Zayne!" Man was bashful from Snow White instantly. Only to hear the clearing of someone's throat. Greyson turned to stone... "the real Zayne is behind me.. isn't he?" He was. Forgetting his stupid sunglasses in his office.

Thomas (Rafayel): Poor overworked babysitter man. He went to a rage room. With you of course. Both needing to get pent up Raf anger out. You both wrecked things. But, he was in SERIOUS need of this. He chucked things to the cardboard cut out of Rafayel. "WHY CAN'T YOU MAKE MY JOB EASIER AND GET YOUR DEADLINES ON TIME!" Thomas was a rabid animal for the first time. You rubbed his back to soothe him as he continued to rant. "If I didn't want to save my job.. I'd throw a paint jar at him Y/N I mean it."

Charlie (Xavier): Something's been lurking. HE SWORE IT. He felt paranoid. Ever since he brought you bread... Can't a guy be nice? Now he saw shadows everywhere with the brightest eyes. He was damn near contemplating calling a priest. What has he ever done to deserve this? He locked his doors and windows at night. But, he still heard something from the vent. Soft whispers? "Count your days Charlie .."

Luke and Kieran (Sylus): They were watching Cat and the Hat with you before halloween. Both looking at each other with the most mischievous glares known to man. SO! That's how everyone ended up in this mess. They were thing one and thing two. Of course. Sylus was frozen in pure and unadulterated anger. You all ganged up on him to dress him as the cat in the hat himself (So much for "kitten"). You were Sally. Man.. did you have such a good night. (Also headcannon that they only have like ten outfits total and switch them with each other. Not because they aren't spoiled... they just can't be trusted with fashion. Two of those outfits are those halloween costumes).

Gideon (Caleb): So posting isn't safe anymore? He made ONE post. "Everyone was gone when I woke up.." and who had to respond? You. Gideon was clutching his pearls. Avoiding Caleb for as long as he could. "Hey can you go with Caleb on a mission?" "Ah! I'd would love to! Oh! CRUNCH... Just broke my leg.. right now. I have to cancel." When he did finally see Caleb.. he was holding his legs Usher style. "I DIDN'T KNOW Y/N WOULD RESPOND PLEASE! I'M SORRY ". Caleb laughed. Assuring him that it was all okay. They went inside the air craft. Caleb whispered softly. "No one could hear you scream in the air." HELP! HELP!

Editors Note: This all stemmed from the twins. Gootbye.

#love and deepspace #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #xavier love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #lads caleb #caleb x reader #zayne x reader #lads zayne #xavier x reader #lads xavier #rafayel x reader #lads rafayel #sylus x reader #lads sylus

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onlybeeewrites · 3 months ago

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Angel Eyes

Request: Hello I would like to request a Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader! I see that you also do starwars and it had me thinking. How would Coriolanus do if either your his tribute or a mentor or his wife? and a little kid came up to the reader and asked her if she was an Angel?

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: classism, mentions of malnutrition/malnourishment, Coryo’s manipulation, slight diversion from canon for fic sake

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The Capitol Zoo was unusually quiet that morning, as if the city itself was holding its breath in anticipation of the Games. The sky above was pale and washed-out, making the enclosures seem more like cages.

You walked slowly beside Coriolanus, your fingers brushing together before he finally gave in and laced his with yours. It was one of the few soft things about him—this quiet affection when no one was watching.

Well, when he thought no one was watching, at least.

His eyes were locked on the girl in the District 12 enclosure, her bright dress muted by the grim bars and stale air. Lucy Gray stood with her chin tilted high, a performer through and through, even in captivity.

You both watched her for a few moments—Coryo calculating, curious, captivated. You, quieter, unsure how to feel about the girl who smiled like she knew secrets.

“She’s different,” you murmured, your eyes trialing her up and down.

“She’s dangerous,” he replied. But there was something like admiration in his voice. Though you weren’t threatened by it.

After all, she was the one behind the bars; you weren’t.

You nodded once, then gently tugged his hand. “Come on. I want to see mine.”

Your tribute was a girl of only twelve, a slip of a thing with tangled hair and limbs too thin for her frame. She was tucked in a corner of the enclosure, knees pulled to her chest like she was trying to disappear.

You reached into the elegant satchel slung over your shoulder, the one your mother insisted matched your family’s station.

“A Tolston never leaves the house looking anything less than exceptional.” Was what your mother had always said to you.

The Tolstons were old money. Old, influential, and perpetually seated at the Capitol’s highest tables, with your father’s name on every infrastructure committee and your mother curating the Capitol’s most exclusive fashion exhibits.

You weren’t supposed to cry about the Games. You weren’t supposed to feel things for tributes. But it was different now that you were in charge of taking care of one, to try and help your tribute to win.

So here you were, with wrapped honeyed bread, pear slices and soft cheese tucked between embroidered linen napkins. A large fancy ‘T’ stitched into it.

“Hi,” you said gently. “This is for you.”

She blinked up at you, wide-eyed, hesitant. Then slowly, carefully, she stood and crept over, taking the bundle like it might vanish if she moved too quickly. Her fingers brushed yours, feather-light, and you smiled.

She stared at the food, then at you. And then she said, in a small, wonder-filled voice

The little girl stood on the other side of the bars, hay in her hair while she stood in the dirt. The food you had passed was clutched tight in her small hands like she was afraid someone would take it back.

“Are you an angel?” she asked, voice breathy, eyes too big for her thin face.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

She nodded seriously, stepping a little closer. “An angel. My mama used to talk about them all the time. She said they were the most beautiful creatures in the world. That they come when you’re really scared. When you’re about to give up.”

Your heart twisted. “Oh, sweetheart…” you crouched lower so you were more at her level. “No. I’m not an angel. I’m just…” You hesitated, glancing at the food in her hands. “I’m someone who thinks you shouldn’t be hungry. Just someone who is looking after you,”

She frowned thoughtfully, tilting her head like a curious bird. “You look like one. Your voice is soft. Like my mama’s was.”

Behind you, the soft buzz of a camera lens adjusted, zooming in. You could feel the eyes of the Capitol watching—Lucky Flickerman’s commentary somewhere off to the side, smooth as ever.

“Your name is Lina, right?” you asked gently.

“Lina,” she said with a nod, “Lina Grove,”

“Lina Grove,” you repeated, giving her a small smile. “That’s a beautiful name. Mine’s—”

“I know,” she interrupted, suddenly shy. “They said your name on the screen when we got here. You’re the pretty girl that walks with the white-haired boy.”

You choked on a surprised laugh. “The white-haired boy?”

Coriolanus, who’d remained behind you but close, let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a scoff. His fingers tightened around yours—possessive, protective. “Charming,” he muttered under his breath.

Lina giggled.

“You’re funny,” she said to you. “And you smell nice. Not like the rest of this place.”

You leaned in conspiratorially. “That’s because I carry soap in my bag. Want me to sneak you some tomorrow?”

Her eyes lit up like you’d promised her a crown or the most sparkly jewels on earth.

“Really?” she whispered. “Even just to smell it?”

“Promise.”

She hugged the food to her chest like it was a lifeline. “Do angels make promises?”

You hesitated, just for a second. “Only the good ones, I suppose,”

Lucky’s voice rang out from somewhere behind the camera. “And there you have it, folks—our mentors are shining this year! Capitol hearts everywhere are absolutely melting.”

You stood slowly, wiping your hands on your skirt. Lina backed up a step but kept her eyes on you, like she wasn’t ready to let you go just yet.

“Will you come back tomorrow?” she asked hopefully.

You gave her a nod. “Every day until the Games.”

She bit her lip. “Even after?”

Something in your chest fractured. And unfamiliar ache.

“I’ll try,” you whispered. “I’ll do everything I can, I promise,”

Coriolanus stepped closer, slipping his arm around your waist, his voice low beside your ear. “You’re going to make it very hard for them to forget her.”

You didn’t answer. Just watched as Lina sat back down with her food next to her district partner; an older boy maybe around 16. And, for the first time, looked like a child again.

And for a split moment you felt guilt.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The gravel path shimmered faintly beneath your shoes as you and Coriolanus walked away from the enclosure. The buzz of cameras had finally died down, Lucky Flickerman’s voice trailing off into some other scripted sentiment.

The air felt heavier now, quieter. As if your lungs were remembering how to breathe again the further you got away from it all.

You glanced back once—just once—toward where Lina now slept in one part of the zoo’s enclosure.

“She’s so little,” you said, more to yourself than him. “Twelve. She still has baby teeth, Coryo.”

His hand tightened on yours. Just a bit. Just enough. Though you didn’t see it, there was a small shift in the boy you loved so much.

“She’s a tribute,” he said, like it was supposed to explain everything. So simple. How could it be that simple?

“I know,” you murmured. “It’s just—” You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. “She called me an angel.”

“She’s scared. They all are.” His voice was soft but sure, like velvet hiding steel. “And you gave her exactly what she needed in that moment. Comfort. That’s not a bad thing, my love,”

You nodded slowly, but something still stirred beneath your ribs. Not outrage—nothing so dramatic. Just a quiet ache. A tug of something soft and uncertain.

He stopped walking, gently pulling you to a halt beside him. You looked up at him, and the Capitol haze made his blond hair shine almost silver. Stunning. He was absolutely stunning.

“I know it’s hard,” he said, brushing your hair from your face with careful fingers. “But we don’t get to be soft right now. Not when everything we want is within reach.”

You blinked up at him, uncertain.

He leaned closer, voice dropping like it was a secret meant only for you.

“We’re doing this for a reason. You and me. The mentor who make it out of this with winning tributes—our lives change. We move forward. Higher. We don’t get stuck in the mud like the rest of them. The Games are there for a reason. To keep the districts in line. But now they’re also the one place we get to prove ourselves.”

You swallowed, your chest tightening. Your eyes never leaving his, not once.

He slid his hand to your cheek. “You want a future, don’t you? Not just for her. For us.”

Your throat bobbed. “I do. Of course, I do, Coryo,”

He smiled then—slow, warm, like sunlight cutting through clouds.

“Then we play the game, my angel,” he said softly. “And we win it.”

Something about the way he said we made your pulse flutter. As if your names were already written into the Capitol’s future. As if this moment, however sharp around the edges, was only the beginning.

Like everything was already promised, and all you needed to do was just grab it.

You exhaled slowly, letting the guilt drift back into the shadows. He was right. He always had a way of being right. And you were grateful he was there to bring you back to common sense.

“I hate when you talk like that,” you whispered, lips curving into a reluctant smile.

“Why?” he teased.

“Because you always make me believe it.”

His grin widened, all charm and quiet power. He kissed the back of your hand, elegant and practiced. “Good.”

The two of you then continued down the path—two golden children of the Capitol, walking the road toward something both of you could only hope for; while Coryo was determined to grab.

A life he deserved, with plenty of money, power, and the Angel of the Captial at his side.

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xdanisgfx · 5 months ago

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IRL — daniela avanzini !

synopsis! — secrets are hard to keep when there's something to lose. thing is, both y/n and daniela are hiding something behind their backs, something that, when revealed, can be considered social suicide. or, in which y/n is getting comfortable as the one-and-only spidergirl after two years, and she's gaining a huge fandom. however, her coworker daniela is both her #1 fan and biggest hater, but neither of them knows that. what happens when accidents and coincidences end up revealing both their secrets? what happens when daniela is torn between her long-time celebrity crush and overly annoying coworker?

tags! — smau, spidergirl!reader, nonceleb!au, takes place in summer break, swearing, dirty jokes, kys jokes, violence, crack, joking homophobia (among friends), prolly slow updates, i have no idea what im doing

featuring! — katseye, itzy, le sserafim, txt.

pairing! — daniela avanzini x fem!reader.

status! — on hold - short hiatus while i get my academic shit together! (and also i lost the plot)

taglist! — @meganskiendielsbtc @sunshinez4 @fruityg0rl @wtfisthisnoclueman @winnmin @1luvkarina @peanutbutterlover05 @hiraizyo @kristalag @haerinkisser @zindoriyo @bandaidss320 @xochitlisbest @leotapes @yeetaberry127 @urmom2314@7purinzer @mei2yok @chahcahca @wwwlpgs @mirophobic

comment, dm, or send an ask to be added!

profiles! — 6 baddies 🥵 pt. 2 spidergirl fan club 🗣️📢 other

chapters! —

00 prologue (half-written)

01 overgrown ipad kid

02 call in sick

03 saving grace lara raj

04 homotron 3000

05 everybody wants to jump y/n

06 who tf is this

07 megan = #1 opp

08 she promised

09 y/n has a type?

10 love makes me blind

11 YOU DONT EVEN WANT HER

12 dating scandal

13 withdrawals

14 she likes me

15 make her like me challenge

16 limited edition

17 chat is this rizz

18 banana bread

19 followed and dated

20 lara did something (and y/n too)

21 lara did something (and y/n too) pt. 2

22 spilled tea and new bestie

23 "personal reasons"

24 prophetic tingle pull bs

25 all good again (half-written)

26 left hanging

27 she's a model now

28 i miss you

29 thumbs up

30 outside (half-written)

31 is dani okay?

32 they wont find us here (half-written)

divs by: @/cafekitsune

#*ೃ༄ rae updates .#daniela avanzini x reader #daniela avanzini x female reader #daniela avanzini x fem!reader #katseye smau #daniela avanzini smau #fem!reader #female reader #katseye x female reader #katseye x fem!reader #katseye #smau #le sserafim #itzy #txt

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alessandra-14 · 5 months ago

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A slip of the tongue

Dean Winchester x sister!reader and slightly Sam Winchester x sister!reader

Summmery: After a tough hunt, leaving the three hunters bruised and hurt and Dean angry at his little sister. But when she slips up and calls him "Dad," everything shifts.

Warnings: none really

(It's been requested weeks ago but I just now I managed to get it done)

Being raised by two older brother who don't really know what they're doing, may not be to ideal but for Y/N that's all she could have asked for.

Their dad was rarely ever home, usually away on hunt and blinded by the need to revenge his wife. So Dean and Sam had no other choice than to step in and raise her to be a strong smart woman. And she wouldn't trade that for anything in this world.

Like that one time when Dean tried to get her ready for the day.

“Sam, do you know how to braid hair?” Dean asked, frowning at the tangled mess called a ponytail. She was 5, sitting cross-legged on the motel bed, flipping through an old, dog-eared picture book.

“No, but I’m not the one who promised she’d look like a princess today,” Sam shot back, rolling his eyes. He was fifteen, gangly and awkward but always ready to help.

Then Dean also rolled his eyes and glared at his little brother. "You know you don't have to be so sassy all the time Sammy." He sayed in an obnoxiously annoying tone, to which Sam didn't say anything further.

Dean huffed, trying to mimic the motions he’d seen in some movie Y/N had made them watch. “Hold still, kid. You’re gonna look amazing.”

Or that time when both brothers decided to take her to the fair after she had been begging to go there for days.

The fairground lights twinkled and Y/N was full of energy, practically dragged her brothers toward the entrance.

“Dean! Funnel cake first! No, wait—the merry-go-round!” she shouted, her voice rising above the carnival buzz.

“Slow down!” Dean laughed and quickly tried catching up to her. Sam slightly less enthusiastic, rolled his eyes but followed close behind.

They played games. Dean won her a stuffed lion and they shared a funnel cake, When they reached the ferris wheel, Y/N squeezed into the seat between her brothers, resting her head on Dean’s arm.

“This is the best night ever,” she whispered already sleepy and exhausted after this fun night out.

Dean smiled, pulling her close. “Yeah, kiddo. It is.”

But their lives weren't always fun and peaceful. More often than not it was the complete opposite. John's anger, the constand yelling and fighting between Sam and John, the hunting. Oh especially the hunting.

The two brothers were never a big fan of taking her with them on hunts but John insisted she had to learn, so they hadn't much of a choice than to agree. But after seeing how good she actually is at this they decided to let her tag along even after John was long gone.

The Impala’s rumble was a soothing constant, a reminder of safety despite the chaos that had just unfolded. Sam’s face was taut with worry as he pressed a blood-soaked rag against her arm, the gash beneath stinging like fire. Dean’s jaw was clenched as he drove like a mad man, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.

Y/N sat in the backseat, trying not to wince every time the car hit a bump. Blood was soaking through her white shirt, but she knew better than to complain about a piece of clothing at the moment. Even if she really loved that shirt.

The hunt had gone sideways—what a surprise.

Dean and Sam had both sworn to protect their sister at all costs. But lately, she’d been trying to prove she could handle herself, trying to show them she wasn't just the kid tagging along anymore.

It was supposed to be a simple salt-and-burn. Ghosts were her bread and butter. Something relatively easy to handle. But this one had been different. Angry. Vengeful. And ridiculously fast. Before anyone could react, it had slashed at her, sending the girl flying into a set of windows.

“Pull over,” Sam said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was calm but firm. “I need to stitch this up before she loses too much blood. We've wasted to much time so far."

Dean didn’t argue, which was how she immediately could tell he was mad. He pulled into the parking lot of a dingy gas station, threw the car into park, and slammed the door shut behind him as he got out.

Sam turned to his sister, pulling out the first-aid kit. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” she said through gritted teeth.

Sam sighed but didn’t push it. His hands were steady as he threaded the needle and got to work, his murmured apologies lost in the sharp sting of every pull. Y/N tried to focus on the familiar sounds of Dean pacing outside the car, his boots crunching on gravel.

When Sam finished, he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and got out to check on Dean. The girl was alone for maybe thirty seconds before the driver’s side door opened and Dean slid in loudly. He turned to face her, his green eyes scanning her pale and tear struck face and then her bandaged arm.

“You okay, kiddo?”

“I’m fine,” She muttered, avoiding his gaze.

“Fine?” His voice was sharp, edged with frustration and anger. “You know you could’ve died back there.”

She flinched at his firm tone. “I wasn’t trying to get hurt, Dean.”

“You think that matters?” he snapped. “You’re supposed to be careful. You’re supposed to stay back and let us handle it. We know what we are doing!”

“I know what I am doing too and most importantly I’m not a little kid anymore!!”

“Well, you sure as hell act like one sometimes!”

The words hit her harder than she wanted to admit. Y/N looked down at her lap, blinking back tears. She knew he didn’t mean it—not really. Dean was scared. He always got like this when something happened to her or Sam. But that didn’t make it sting any less.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered after an intense silence.

Dean sighed heavily, dragging a hand down his face. His voice softened. “I just—damn it, I can’t lose you. You get that, right? You and Sam… you’re all I’ve got.”

The tears she’d been holding back spilled over, and before she could stop yourself, the words slipped out.

“I know, Dad.”

The silence that followed was definitely awkward.

Her heart sank as soon as she realized what she’d said. “I—I mean, Dean. I didn’t mean. I—”

But he didn’t look angry. His eyes widened for a moment, then softened into something she couldn’t quite place. He reached out, his calloused hand gentle as it gripped her left hand.

“Hey,” he said softly, cutting off her rambling. “It’s okay.”

She looked at him worried and confused, her bottom lip trembling. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Yeah, you did,” he said, a small, sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And it’s okay. You’re my kid as much as you’re my sister. Hell you’ve always have been.”

The weight of his words settled over her, warm and reassuring. For the first time since she’d climbed into the Impala, the tightness in her chest loosened even for just a moment.

“Thanks, Dean,” She whispered.

“Don’t thank me,” he said gruffly, though his hand lingered for a moment longer before he pulled away. “Just… stop scaring the crap outta me, alright?”

She nodded, a small smile breaking through. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” He started the car, the familiar rumble filling the space and waited for Sam to come back in too. “Now, let’s get you patched up for real. And next time, you’re wearing body armor, I don’t care how stupid it looks.”

Sam climbed back in, raising an eyebrow at the sudden shift in mood but wisely deciding not to comment. As the Impala roared back onto the highway, Y/N leaned her head against the window, a strange sense of peace settling over her.

Dean might not have been her dad in the traditional sense, but in every way that mattered, he was. And now, she didn’t have to pretend otherwise.

#supernatural #dean winchester x sister!reader #the winchester brothers #sam winchester x sister!reader

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ggidolsmuts · 5 months ago

Text

TTYL, Unless? - Loossemble Hyunjin (ft. ARTMS Heejin)

After you got together with Heejin and Hyunjin, the world conspired to split the three of you apart, making them end up in different groups rather than being in one group like before. The three of you managed, but meeting up became both easier and harder—it was harder to meet both of them together, because their schedules never seemed to overlap, and yet it was easier in a way to meet each of them more often, since their schedules never seemed to overlap. If Heejin was busy touring, Hyunjin would come looking to go on dates. If Hyunjin was busy with her comeback, Heejin would be texting you to come out.

"Yah, what are you thinking about?" Hyunjin pokes you out of your daze. For now it is Heejin's turn to tour, and Hyunjin's resting, the two of you out and about on a quiet cafe date.

"Thinking about you!" You hold her hand a little tighter—you were in public, so it wouldn't do to draw more attention.

"Not Heejin?"

"When did my girlfriend become the jealous type?"

"Did you forget that Heejin is also your girlfriend?" She digs a nail into your palm, making you hiss at the sting. "But say it again."

"Say what?"

"That I'm your girlfriend." She's blushing, smiling to herself at your words. You pull Hyunjin towards you, hugging her in the middle of the street. "What are you doing!"

"You are my girlfriend, I don't care if people find out."

"Crazy!" But she stays in your embrace. "Let's head back home."

"Is everything okay though? You were never this... worried? Or wary? About Heejin?" The two of you stop by at Hyunjin's favorite bakery.

"No it's just after all that happened... we're spending a lot of time with you, but always separately. I'm worried that you will, you know, compare us, have a preference for one of us."

"Would you believe me if I say I don't?"

"Would Heejin believe you?" You pause for a moment, and Hyunjin takes the chance to sneak an extra pastry on to the tray.

"Yes."

"Don't lie, I know that Heejin is competitive, and you know it too." She grabs another pastry as your punishment for lying—Hyunjin's right, Heejin would definitely want to "win", regardless of the inaneness of the competition.

"Where is this coming from? It's not like we never hung out separately before we all agreed to be together." You sigh and pay for all the pastries.

"Yeah but that's before—" Hyunjin looks around and leans in. "That's before we started doing all of this, unless you were already comparing our bodies before you saw us naked?"

"Of course not!"

"So once you have, don't you have, you know, preferences? And one of us will be closer to your preferences? If you say we have the same figure I will stuff this bread straight down your throat." Hyunjin threatens, and you quickly shut your open mouth.

"I like you both, in different ways, no one is better than the other. How did you define your diet again?"

"What? Oh! I have a seafood diet, I see food, I eat food." Hyunjin cackles at her own bad joke.

"I'm just like that with you. When I see you, I want you." You add with feigned suaveness, sneaking a hand under the table to grab Hyunjin's thigh.

"Yah you are crazy! Eat your bread!" Hyunjin blushes and pushes you off, but you know she likes it.

"Tch, you're the one who kept talking about figures and having preferences."

"Hmph!"

"I need another coffee for these, do you want one?"

"Sure, thank you!" You shake your head as Hyunjin's happy once more, a pastry in each hand and chomping away. "Then we can go home!" She adds, cheeks puffing with bread.

You're lying on the sofa with Hyunjin, lazing the afternoon away watching a movie, when your phone rings.

"Hmm? Oh it's Heejin. Hey Heejin!"

"Oh oppa, is now a good time?"

"Yeah I'm just here with Hyunjin, what's up?"

"Oh umm, I'll just talk to you later then, have a good time with Hyunjin!" The phone is taken out of your hands and is placed on speakerphone.

"Yah, Jeon Heejin. You were going to do phone sex with oppa weren't you?"

"What?" "Yah Kim Hyunjin! How can you just say that?!"

"We talked about it, when we miss you while on tour. She suggested it, right Heejin?"

"Yes."

"I umm, I see." Your throat is suddenly dry. The phone is silent, but Hyunjin does the prodding.

"Do it."

"Really? Do it?" Heejin asks, you can tell she's considering it.

"I want to listen. We've already had sex together, the three of us, phone sex is nothing." Hyunjin kisses you, a hand slipping under your t-shirt. "Ask her what she's wearing."

"W-What are you wearing right now Heejin?"

"Oh, are you sure— I'm wearing a lace top, and umm, some shorts."

"Are the shorts as tight as the ones you wore on stage?" you blurt out, your mind already going back to when you first saw those fancams. "I swear I could see where I should be in those photos." Hyunjin nods her approval, bringing up the pictures on her phone. This is weird but exciting.

"You saw those? Yeah they were really tight, I had to wear something looser the next night."

"Good, wouldn't want anyone else to see."

"Yes, just for you to see." Heejin's voice deepens, she's getting into it too. "What are you wearing oppa? Are your shorts getting tight too?"

"Yeah. I'll help oppa with it though," Hyunjin answers for you. "Let me take off his t-shirt first." She pushes you down on the sofa, putting the phone by your head, making sure Heejin can hear her kissing you sloppily.

"You should take off your top too Heejin," you mumble, pushing your hands beneath Hyunjin's. "Are you wearing underwear?" you ask as you play with Hyunjin over her bra.

"No..."

"So naughty, I wish I could see you topless."

"It's okay, just make Hyunjin take her top off." Hyunjin listens, pulling off her t-shirt and undoing her bra.

"She has now. Should I play with her tits?"

"Yes, I am too," Heejin sighs.

"Tell me what you're doing."

"I'm squeezing them, rubbing my nipples, they're, mm, pretty stiff." Hyunjin lets you sit up and do the same to her, her soft gasps merging with Heejin's over the speaker. "It feels good..."

"It does." Hyunjin agrees. "He's using his teeth, pulling on it a little, ah!"

"How hard is he?" You let out a deep breath as Hyunjin reaches down between your legs.

"Very. What do you want to do?" Hyunjin's breathing deeply too, her voice husky as she asks Heejin.

"I want to stroke him, feel how hard he is in my hands."

"She's stroking me, touch yourself Heejin." You hear the soft "ah" as the image of Heejin slipping her hand beneath her shorts surfaces in your mind.

"H-How would you touch me oppa?" You quickly grab the phone and pull Hyunjin to the bedroom—with more room to maneuver you can touch her as she strokes you.

"Me? I would start slow, rub you over your panties, make sure you are soaking wet before I do anything else." You gently press between Hyunjin's legs—she's already sticky. Hastily she pushes her shorts off to give you better access.

"Oh yes... What then? Would you take off my panties?" Heejin sighs.

"Not yet." You say sharply, making sure that Heejin listens to you. "I'd tease you further, trace your shape over it, like those tight shorts you wore." Hyunjin whines, a hand on your arm, trying to get you to do more.

"Ah, I won't wear it again. Please?" Hyunjin strokes you faster, more firmly as Heejin begs, working in tandem once more.

"Good, take your panties off."

"Only if you take your underwear off." Soon you, Hyunjin, and Heejin are equally naked.

"Should I use one finger or two?" you ask.

"T-Two."

"Ah!" "Mmm!" You hear Heejin's moan in one ear, and Hyunjin's in the other as you slip two fingers into her wet heat.

"So tight, so wet Heejin, I'm going to finger you."

"Yes! Yes do it!" You push deep into Hyunjin, feeling her tense and clench around your digits. You mouth silently to Hyunjin, asking her to tell Heejin what she's feeling.

"So deep in me already, he knows what I like, what we like Heejin. G-Go faster!" You start moving your hand more rapidly, feeling your fingers get wetter. The two of you can hear more of Heejin's moans now, louder and more frequent.

"Dont forget to touch your clit." You make sure your bump against Hyunjin's, and she has to bite back a cry when you do so. There's no muffling on Heejin's end, and her squeal comes through loud and clear.

"Yes oppa! Do more!" To her credit Hyunjin stays quiet, allowing Heejin to focus on herself and you. You feel her breaking down though, her hand on your cock forgetting to stroke you, an arm over her mouth to muffle herself. The phone sex is definitely turning her on—she's bucking into your hand, flat tummy flexing and tits jiggling slight as she twitches on the bed. You haven't seen Hyunjin quite like this in a while, and that's turning you on, now you want to finish her off properly.

"I'm curling my fingers in you," you utter into the phone, but you're doing it to Hyunjin, and the reaction is immediate.

"Ah!" A sharp yelp that Hyunjin can't help, and on the other end of the phone, an instant reaction from Heejin.

"Yes! Oh, I'm cumming, I'm cumming oppa!"

"Cum for me!" You plunge your fingers even faster into Hyunjin, and she's biting into a pillow, thighs crushing your hand. You watch Hyunjin and listen to Heejin, their orgasms seeming to blend together into something even hotter. Heejin's babbling, moaning incoherently while your fingers get crushed by Hyunjin's pussy—they seem to be in rhythm, each deep and harsh breath from Heejin in time with Hyunjin's contractions and small waves of slick.

"Oh... that was great oppa." Heejin sighs, and Hyunjin has finally released her bite on the pillow, both of them coming down from strong orgasms. "I really needed that."

"Good, I'm happy." You're too horny to beat around the bush. "I'm going to fuck Hyunjin now, so I'll talk to you later—"

"Wait, can I listen?"

"You want to listen?"

"Yeah, you don't have to talk to me, I just want to, er, hear you finish."

"I'm not going to be quiet," Hyunjin speaks up. "You know what he does to me."

"Yeah I— Fuck I'm already imagining it happening to me. Just pretend I'm not here." You hear the rustle of sheets, and the tiniest of gasp as Heejin tries and fails to keep quiet. You don't care though, as Hyunjin's stroking you again, making you aware of just how hard you are.

"Lay on your front." You grab the phone and place it by Hyunjin's head before getting on top of her prone form. "You know what he does to me huh? What else have you and Heejin said about me?" You nuzzle her neck, hearing her gasp as you push your head, then your tip, and then your shaft, into her.

"Hnngh! Sensitve, sensitive!" Hyunjin yields to you, albeit a little too fast. "Don't move!"

"Sensitive? You mean your song?" You earn a light smack for that.

"Of course not, I mean I'm sensitive, because I just came!"

"And I haven't!" Hyunjin groans. "But I'll give you a short break, what have you and Heejin been talking about?"

"What you like, what we like, what you do that we like, mmm!" You bottom out in her, and she's gripping you tightly.

"And what do you like Hyunjin?" True to your word it is a short break, and you can't help but begin moving, for now settling for rocking back and forth in her. "Better answer fast before I start fucking you faster."

"I like it when you kiss my neck, yes right there!" You leave a dark red mark over her favorite spot. "I like it when you touch me all over, show me that you love my body."

"Of course I do." You squeeze everything you love about Hyunjin—her neck, her shoulders, her tits, her midriff, her hips. You squeeze her thighs with yours, making sure she's even tighter around you.

"Fuck, I love how tight you are, Hyunjin!" You put more force into your thrusts, slamming down on her prone form, her butt and thighs rippling when you do so. On instinct Hyunjin's raising her hips slightly, letting you press them back down on the bed, letting gravity get you even deeper into her.

"Y-You're so big, oh god, mmm, mm, mm! Hnngh Heejin he's doing it again!"

"What?" You slow down again, distracted by how different she sounds. "Am I hurting you?"

"No, don't stop, just nngh, keep doing that!" Hyunjin's groaning, or perhaps grunting is the more accurate description, with every thrust, every time you put all your weight into her hips.

"Doing what?" You want answers, but with the way you continue to fuck her Hyunjin's quickly becoming incapable of responding.

"You're pushing against her womb, her umm, cervix," Heejin answers for Hyunjin. "When you go really deep you sometimes touch mine too—" Heejin cuts herself off with a sigh—she's touching herself again.

"Is that good?" Hyunjin freezes up when you nudge against it again, and you force yourself to slow down. "Please tell me if I should stop."

"No, it's really good, really really good, just not too hard." You cup her chin, tilting her head back and off the bed. It must feel amazing for Hyunjin, because she's gurgling when you sink deep into her again, nudging against the little resistance that's driving her mad. "Right— Uh! There!"

"What about... here?" You adjust your angle slightly, rubbing against her more familiar g-spot. Hyunjin coos, clearly loving it too. But you don't even have to ask when you do both on the same thrust, sliding your head against her g-spot before you drive your hips forward, nudging the entrance to her womb firmly.

"Oh my god, keep doing that, keep doing that!" The words rush out of Hyunjin, and her legs are kicking beneath you. "I love it!"

"What do you love about it?" You've pushed her legs apart slightly, giving yourself more room to plant your knees and really fuck her. You kiss the left side of her neck, then the right—you're going to leave a necklace of hickeys across her skin.

"That you're hnngh— filling me completely, stuffing me so full, ah!"

"Like your favorite pastries? Full of filling?"

"Yes, the best ones, where it's all meat, there's no empty space, and when I try to squeeze you... Fuck you're so hard in me!" Hyunjin's whimpering, and her attempted constrictions around you just drive you to fuck her harder. Your hips bounce off hers, the sound of skin-on-skin action extra satisfying as Hyunjin tries to push back against you, willing you to shove yourself all the way into her. Each successive thrust gets faster and stronger—Hyunjin's creaming around you, streaks of white coating your shaft as she's building to her own massive orgasm. She's as hot as a freshly toasted loaf of bread, warm and satisfying as you plant another kiss on the back of her neck. You've never seen Hyunjin lose it quite like this, the rapid and soft grunts telling you just how fucked to the limit she is, and soon the desire to fill her with your own cream becomes too much.

"Fuck, going to cum!" you growl, hugging her possessively, arm around her neck.

"Do it! Do it in me!" You pull Hyunjin off the bed as your hips slam down one final time, forcing her into an impressive arch as you bottom out and then pump out your load straight into her. Hyunjin cums in the very next instant, the shotgun blast of warmth right against her womb sending her eyes rolling into her head, her breath stopping as she climaxes powerfully beneath you. Everything about her short circuits and stops working; everything except her pussy, squeezing you like a piping bag, getting all the baby batter she can get out of you. After watching and listening to Hyunjin and Heejin get off earlier, your own orgasm is even stronger and longer, and you collapse on top of her, holding Hyunjin down as you rut into her, delivering, pumping, squeezing, oozing, everything you have into her.

Over the phone you hear Heejin, or rather, you hear Heejin's pussy, sopping wet and squelching as her hand is hard at work getting herself off, and with a deep-chested cry you hear her cum shortly after. You kiss Hyunjin lovingly, keeping yourself in her until you hear the rustle of Heejin picking up the phone again.

"Thanks oppa, sorry if that was too loud at the end."

"No, we finished just before you."

"Yeah, he came a lot in me."

"You two don't hide anything do you?"

"S-Show me."

"Fine, you too then." You're dumbfounded as Hyunjin grabs her phone and points it between her legs, but you see that she's captured your state as well—There's bits of Hyunjin's cream all over your cock and crotch, and right next to your cock, where there should've been the pink slit of Hyunjin's pussy, all that's seen in the photo is a strip of white, your cum pouring out of her like an overfilled bun.

"You're going to send that to her?"

"Of course, she asked for it," Hyunjin says, like it's the most logical answer ever.

"Heejin delete it after you see it, what if you lose your phone on tour?"

"I will, we're careful about that. Sending you the pic Hyunjin." Her phone dings, and you're treated to the sight of Heejin laying back on her pillows, looking utterly satisfied as she spreads her pussy lips for you, droplets of slick splattered between her legs.

"I'm going to delete it once oppa's done looking!" Hyunjin teases.

"Wait I—" Her eyes twinkle with mischief—she got you. "Fine, delete it, that's the smart thing to do."

"Not like you won't get to see Heejin like that when she comes back."

"Yeah, I can't wait for you to do that to me, it sounded really hot."

"It is! It's like he was fucking my—" You snatch the phone from Hyunjin before it gets any more bawdy.

"Alright I am not listening to you two talk about me. You should go sleep."

"Mmmhmm now I'm all drained. Thanks oppa, I'll talk to you later. Bye Hyunjin!"

"Yup bye!" Finally alone again Hyunjin cuddles against you, not caring about the load draining out of her. "That was really hot. I am totally going to call you while you're with Heejin."

"What? Why?"

"So we can have phone sex threesome, three phone sex? Phonesome? It's only fair that I get to listen in."

"And how would you know when I'm with Heejin? She just happened to call at the right time."

"I'll get Heejin to tell me, she has to, we have to have the same experiences. You need to do her in the same position, and then tell us who felt better."

"Sometimes I can't tell if you two are competing or cooperating."

"Yes."

Some weeks later, you're in bed with a half-naked Heejin, hands ready to slip off her panties.

"Wait." She picks up her phone and quickly calls someone. "Hyunjin, we're doing it."

"Oh thanks, hi oppa!" Hyunjin's voice comes through the phone.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes yes."

"We really need to have a talk about just how much we're sharing."

"TTYL, FHRN!"

"What are you even saying?"

"Talk to you later, fuck Heejin right now!" You turn to find Heejin already naked and prone on the bed.

Fine, you guess you'll do as Hyunjin says.

"Hnngh!"

A/N: Wanted to do a "TTYL" related story, but never got around to it until after Loossemble :( Kinda wanted to do the other scene from Heejin's perspective, but eh it would've been too samey, I leave it to your imagination lol. Thanks for reading! Have one more Hyunjin pic

#smut #hyunjin #loossemble #heejin #artms

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takes1 · 5 months ago

Note

THANK YOU FOR WRITING MY KUROKEN REQUEST OMHFGSGHFGRS. IM SO SO HAPPY THANK YOU AJJWKAJDHFBTNFJEJ!!!!!CANT WAIT FOR THE NEXT! :D

[p.2] kenma sharing you with kuroo

im so glad youre into it!!!! i love hearing from you! this was getting too long again, had to break it up AAAAAAAAA so there will be another part idk why i cant be concise theres just a lot of juicy stuff here

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / threesome / angsty smut / jealous!kuroo / secure!kenma /petnames / submissive(with conditions)!reader / praisewhore!reader / kenma being rough on purpose / f!rec oral / backshots / riding / kuroo being rough on accident / very mastermind!kenma / poly!kuroo, poly!kenma, poly?reader / crushing on kuroo / fluid pecking order / 3k words / somehow more to follow, pls reply to be added to taglist for HOPEFULLY FINAL PART

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. part one here. final part.

The sheer size of his physique always made you and Kenma both feel smaller, and fragile at times. Like a couple of toys to him.

Now that you could see what he had been hiding underneath his shirt; a full, wide chest that stretched, taut, across two robust shoulders. Lines worked under his skin, cropping up like guitar strings as he tossed his shirt to the side.

Comparing him to Kenma was useless. They weren't just in different weight classes; it was simply unfair to draw the full list of their differences out.

The worst part was that he knew how hot he was. He acted like he was the best thing since sliced bread. Always flexing in every mirror, offering a bulky bicep for you to squeeze just to watch you squirm on more than one occasion, leaning over both you and your boyfriend, crushing you in unnecessary group hugs.

"How's that sound, baby?" Kenma muttered against your ear, speaking in that low tone he knew you liked.

Face burning hot, you stared at the floor until Kuroo filled your vision. His chest was blocking your ability to ignore him, to try thinking clearly enough to maybe say something back.

Kenma was keeping you still, one arm around your middle, the other hand rested under one of your breasts, "You can touch him. It's okay."

They shared a look you couldn't see.

"I won't bite anymore," Kuroo whispered. He kissed the top of your head as an apology, of sorts.

He lifted your wrist and placed it onto his sculpted stomach. It was a safe move, because it did help you calm down and give you something to look at. You weren't sure if you'd be able to look him in the eye ever again.

Your heart was still racing, but you did want to touch him. Both of your hands slid over his impressive body, thumbs prodding harder into the bulky muscle you weren't so used to- the type of grabbing and groping you had always been curious about. The back of your hand brushed his dark happy trail, your breath clipped at how his v-line dove deep into his sweats.

"Kemma," He muttered, breathy, over your head, keeping your hand right there, at his waistband.

You missed whatever exchange they must've had outside of your focus, but you were right on time to turn and watch them kiss.

Mouth open, you watched, shamelessly turned on, at the steamy exchange of tongue and spit, past and power between them right next to your head.

Nothing about that was unsure in nature. You could have been convinced that they kissed frequently.

Kuroo's hand kept yours barred on his tummy so you couldn't let him go- his other hand slipped between you and Kenma, pulling possessively at the small of your back. Kenma was also pulling you harder, closer, and you felt his hand slide onto your neck.

He usually did that when he wanted comfort- but it felt different for blur of reasons here.

They were both holding tightly onto you, but kissing each other. It nearly gave you whiplash, how fast it simplified things.

The way Kuroo parted, jaw flexed, a little flare on his nostrils in restraint was outrageously sexy. His narrowed, drunken eyes looked to you.

Your wall was back up, immediately- but you couldn't move, so you took his kiss, anyway.

His lips were wet and warm with the faint taste of Kenma. And he was making himself busy at he curve of your neck, noisily sucking and biting that little sensitive spot where it dipped into your shoulder, where he knew you held all of your stress.

"Mmnh-!"

Your uncontrollable sound was eaten right up, and Kuroo was able to get his tongue in your mouth, all clumsy, needy, like he just wanted to be inside of you no matter the method. He pushed your hand further into his pants and -of course- he wasn't wearing any underwear.

Did they kiss just to get you to this spot? The thought was concerning, but fleeting.

You gasped when he finally parted- for air, at Kenma's mouth, and the brief, unintentional brush against his cock.

Your hand shot back out of his pants, and though it looked like a struggle for him, he didn't continue trying to keep your wrist hostage. Kuroo didn't have much patience. The way he showed his passion sided closer to some kind of underlying bitterness, if anything.

A big, loud, tingly kiss to your neck, "He's good, huh?"

You glanced at Kuroo- he watched Kenma, a toothy smirk on his handsome face, like that compliment truly resonated somewhere.

"Yeah," You sighed, still scratchy. You hadn't used your voice in a while.

His arms slipped from you, a small lull in all the intensity for a position shift. You went maybe half a second with neither of them touching you- Kuroo scooped you up just as you were moving to take your seat on your boyfriend's lap.

"What're you thinkin', buddy?"

He held you like a display for him, both hands cupping your tits, a few giggly pecks to the top of your head.

"Wanna know what's goin' on in that brain of yours," His mutter felt aggressive against your scalp, making you feel a bit meek, yielding to his greedy touch.

Kenma scanned your intertwined bodies with a calculated, muted (as most of his emotions read), excitement you had rarely ever seen before.

What he had in mind was inventive, certainly not your first thought, but it was in your favor.

Your concern was quelled as you saw his little idea into action- he could handle more weight than you thought, as Kuroo straddled him, a little amused smile on his face. He took in the view of you perched atop Kenma's face, your hands crossed delicately on his chest.

The idea was so you would have to look at Kuroo.

He caught the hickeys scattered along your shoulder and neck.

"Damn Kemma, that's pretty gnarly," Kuroo's finger slipped over your skin and you flinched, "You sure that's gonna heal before class?"

Kenma shrugged underneath you, another kiss over that already tingly, sensitive bud. You tried to shift away, but he barred his arms over your hips to kept you in place. You had to brave the sensation, this position, longer.

"That's the point," Mumbled against you. Kuroo smirked at how your form broke, a curve to your spine already.

A big, slow lap at your pussy was just what you needed- all this grabbing and pinching and bruising, you just needed some head at this point.

Your moan, light, fluttery, and soft, had his attention locked.

Kuroo's thumb was gentle -not quite as gentle as Kenma- brushing your cheek, the rest of his fingers curled lightly under your jaw. You could look at those shoulders, that thick neck, his veiny forearms all day, but it was just different, difficult, having to meet his face.

"Ohh, you gotta learn to look at me, babydoll," His thumb was lowered, swiped across your glossy lip, his voice bittersweet, "Or we're gonna have a tough time."

It was like looking at him would make it more real. To your defense, it did- every time. You hated that he was using it as a way to get at you, because now he wouldn't give it up.

Finally, a kiss you didn't move away from.

His height gave him the advantage of being able to lean across the distance comfortably. You got to sit 'still' on Kenma's skilled tongue.

Since you weren't making it an unnecessary struggle this time, he was softer. Or, he was just trying to prove he could play the 'good guy,' too. He stroked himself over his sweats to the sounds you spilled across his mouth.

It only took a minute for him to move away from you, clambering off of the mattress, temporarily--

"'Ey bud- I'm takin' my pants off- I can't stand this shit."

You looked away as he stripped, so quick, so eager to get back to his kisses.

There was a clouded, dreamy haze in your vision at his slow, methodical circles. It was impossible to sit straight, but you knew Kenma could take a bit of weight on his chest.

"M-mmnh-ah,"

It took a second for your brain to catch up to everything, but when you replayed how he announced his actions, you really liked that he was, in a way, deferring to Kenma.

"Thaat's better," He groaned, lowering in a silly way to look at your pleasure-drunk expression, "Hm."

He looked down at Kenma, a palm gliding over the lines in his stomach. The muscle underneath danced, twitchy, and sensitive.

"Does he feel good, babygirl?"

You nodded, a weak, "Mh-mm, ah-!"

Kuroo seethed at the sound and quickened his pumping hand, "Ohh- you wanna tell him how good he feels?"

As his eyes trailed down your pretty, weakening form, he barely stopped himself from touching the tent in Kenma's pants. Instead, he kept his second hand gripping his hip bone, probing the skin there.

"Mmh-!" You cried, stooping forward with a tremble.

The little pitiful, embarrassed expression on your face was deserving of another kiss, however fleeting.

"Go 'head. Tell'm, baby."

Kenma must've loved the idea, because he made it intentionally difficult for you to get your words out. It was huffy, and broken, and interrupted by a quick, higher whine or two- but you did manage to tell him how perfect he felt, just like Kuroo wanted.

He didn't notice your reaction to his quiet, natural, "Good girl."

A couple of taps let you know to take your weight off of him. You were shaky, close, and already embarrassed, by that time, though.

Kuroo helped by keeping you upright and supported as Kenma slid out from his position.

"You are sooo cute," He cooed, a big hand squishing your face up so you couldn't avoid another kiss.

He liked smothering you with attention, in the absence of his more intense habits. It felt like you were dealing with cuteness-aggression, unable to wriggle out of his hold.

Your attempts were always half-assed, since it was everything you wanted. The subtle pushing, evading his kisses, little dissatisfied huffs, were more about the principle of not letting him treat you however he wanted. Kenma always put you first. You didn't want Kuroo's sudden presence to change that.

Since he knew you wouldn't touch him, he just stroked himself, between your bodies. It only worked to get him more frustrated at how difficult you were.

"Could you-- damn," Kenma did a double-take at his friend's dick, and left it at that, "Could you lay down?"

Kuroo liked his role. He liked his dick getting praised, too. His smile was unshakable, as he followed along and adjusted per Kenma's nudging. He looked up at him once more when you were prompted to sit on his lap.

Though your pussy was aching for something more, after an hour of essentially just on-and-off foreplay -especially a fan of the big, hunky addition to the bedroom beneath you-, you only hovered until Kenma weighed your hips the rest of the way down.

Kuroo was whiny, speaking only to his friend, "Why won't she look at me?"

He looked at you, "Aren't we friends?"

You grew warm, shuddery at that call-out and the fact that he caught you staring at his abs again.

A good distraction was Kenma, finally taking those stupid sweatpants off; you leaned towards him, quick to pump his cock and treat him well to a flurry of kisses.

He looked sleepy, satisfied with how easily you paid him attention.

His question was mumbled against your lips, a way od depriving you of your last kiss, "Why won't you look at Kuroo, hm?"

You squinted and sighed, a thoughtful effort on your brow until you felt the addictive, slick sensation of Kuroo's cock sliding against your folds, bumping your clit just right.

He was such a tease- he knew what he was doing, when he did it. He wanted to cut you off and smirked at his success.

An uneven whine- your hands landed on top of Kuroo's, swallowing up the crease of your thighs, hips, and ass with his outrageously big fingers.

"You should be nicer to him," He placed a gentle kiss to your cheek and left your side, opting to get behind you.

Kenma guided you by the shoulder to lean forward, face-to-face with Kuroo, knocked to your elbows. He pressed himself against your entrance.

"Oooh, what'd I tell ya?" He spoke right through Kenma sinking deeper into your pussy, finally filling you up, and still rocked his own cock against your clit, "You gonna- ah, look at me now? Or are you about to make this hard?"

You and Kuroo were in similar roles, in the way that you had no idea what Kenma was thinking, or why he did it, aside from speculation.

"A-ahh-!" You gasped, brow furrowed at how much you needed him, how much better this felt with Kuroo here, really here, instead of just in your fantasies.

The stretch, the delayed gratification of finally taking him, loosened your personal reigns a little. You wanted to see how his friend liked it.

It was difficult, but you managed to take in his handsome, dark features while Kenma filled you over and over again. His jaw was tight, flexed, as he bit the inside of his cheek. His eyes never looked endearing but they were clearly narrowed on purpose, focused and tense at your decision to keep your attention on him only now.

He was so jealous that it looked like he was struggling more than you. You loved watching it play out in his eyes, having to sit there and listen to you get railed right in front of him.

"You've got such a pretty little slut for a girlfriend-," He quelled his hunger for you with a quick, harsh kiss, muttering just between you, "Lucky bastard."

Kenma stayed deep, just barely rolling his hips with a sigh. You choked out a moan against Kuroo's frown.

There was an enviable ease to his words.

"I know."

This whole mess of a dynamic was unfolding and taking different shapes the more you all switched, resisted, or accepted your roles.

He was deep, and you were taking him so well that he wasn't as slow, or as soft as he usually opted for. The audience present gave him just a small kick of energy that he used to be a little harder with you.

"Koz-ume--!" You begged, "Mmh- slo-w-- slower..."

He didn't slow down because he knew you were only being theatrical. The intention behind his willful ignorance, still made you search for something, somebody, that would listen. It left you holding onto Kuroo for comfort instead, squeezing him closer to you, mumbling your incoherent whines past his ear.

In the process, his greedy, pinchy hands became more sympathetic, as he had to hold you still. His frown became occupied with shushes and little pecks to your shoulder, and he eventually had wrapped his arms around you, like a hug.

"You're takin' him soo well, babygirl," His low mutter did nothing to soothe you. It only made you want to cum to the sound of his voice. He rubbed over the scratches Kenma had been busy raking across your back.

"Soo fuckin' good."

Neither of you were ready to part, not yet- but Kenma pulled you out of his arms. He hugged you to his own chest, stalling deep inside of you, stuffing your poor pussy with a cruel thrust.

Again, one of those instances that wouldn't be replicated as easily with a big difference in height.

He was breathy, but he didn't stutter: "You gonna be nice to him?"

His hand squeezed your neck, his eyes steady from you, to Kuroo. Your breath was labored, your eyes narrowed, wanting, down at him.

"Hm?"

In the stillness, you could feel the extra wet running down your legs and wondered if you'd ever be so perfectly turned on again.

A managed a higher, breathier, "Yes," and he loosened his grip, letting you back onto Kuroo. Though he hadn't gotten any, he was more than satisfied with how pliable it made you.

You couldn't stop looking at him now.

He kept his grip tight on you, in case Kenma wanted to try taking you away again. His kisses had more depth, more appreciation. As hot as it was seeing Kenma so assertive, he hated being left out in the cold.

"That's too bad."

Was a phrase that both of you, even in spite of your stimulation, paused at. Your lip was hesitantly let go from its place between Kuroo's teeth. He gave him a dirty look as you burrowed your head into his giant shoulder.

Kenma was toneless, void of empathy, "You wanted to third, didn't you?"

Kuroo's expression shattered- the tension in his whole face dissipating into a thousand little pieces for about two seconds, as he tried to decipher what he meant, how he meant it, and how he should take that.

"I'm kidding-" Kenma snickered, still speaking through his fluttery, cute giggle as he addressed you, "You still wanna fuck Kuroo?"

It really hit home, for both of you, that none of this was going to work without Kenma being decidedly cool about a lot of things.

"Yes," Spilled from your lips, muffled against Kuroo's hot skin- you repeated yourself, shakily pushing yourself up for good measure, "Fuck yes."

A 'See? I told you so,' look to Kuroo. He slowly pulled out of you, leaving you to deal with an emptiness that altogether worsened your clingy exterior.

Kuroo's jealousy had softened to appreciation, and your apprehension traded spots with a need for attention. Kenma liked the control of facilitating it all.

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