#and I was distracted and...AAAH

[xiewho]

could i get a fabian pretty pls… possessed would be cool but anything with him is fine

based on that one fake bad kids twt thread that i Cannot find for the life of me

[cry-stars]

waitt i wanna ehar abt the long fics omg... i wanna listen.. rolls onto the grass

HI thank you so much for asking!! i wanted to talk about these so bad but like... couldn't bring myself to without someone asking first fdhkjdf

i have two main long fics i'm hoping to write for komahina!! the first one is just called "sad boy summer" as a placeholder name dfkhjdf

i really enjoy using a season (especially summer) as a framing device for emotions and character arcs. the idea of a cold relationship at the beginning of the spring (with komaeda waking up maybe at the end of may), then their relationship growing in warmth and strength as the summer also grows in heat. and them struggling to hold onto precious memories at the end of the summer, not wanting it to end, and not knowing where their relationship will end up. a warm september stretching on past when summer should end, and them wondering when the last halcyon day will fade away and winter will arrive.

this would be more just a collection of oneshots, connected by time moving along over the summer with no other overarching plot. the boys just... enjoying time together and playing outside and doing fun summer things that they never got to do as teenagers. my idea is that Komaeda becomes a lot healthier than he has been ever since he was a child during that summer. the boys work out their issues and build a strong (homoerotic) friendship, but we have a lot of melancholy moments too. Both because of the fear of the summer (and their friendship) ending, and also because they're both experiencing a happiness they haven't for years.

Once this fic is done, this would lead into the longfic that is more plot-heavy (placeholder title: "to carry you"). I have a lot more concrete ideas for this one, but i can't just start writing an established relationship fdhkdf I have to develop it with the sad boy summer first. anyway, at the beginning of this fic, komaeda and hinata are in a weird situationship/close friendship, where maybe they've kissed once or twice and sleep over regularly, but you couldn't call them partners or a couple.

in this fic, komaeda's good spell of health has gotten worse. his cancer is out of remission, and his dementia has developed past the worst point it has ever been before, to the point where he's having issues with memory and orientation to place and time. he's really good at hiding it though and hinata hasn't realized the full extent of it. komaeda is still looking for a reason to live, or rather, a good and meaningful way to die, since his death is imminent with his sicknesses progressing.

future foundation is in contact with toko and komaru in towa city, who have heard rumours of some kind of miracle cure created by the towa group that can cure a lot of diseases. neither of them are aware of many details, and since they're still hiding what happened between the kids and adults in DR:AE, they can't reveal many details. they're not sure if this cure exists, or if it's just a rumour. future foundation tells hinata about it, as they're trying to find ways to put the remnants to work. komaeda gets excited about this, because he's a prime test subject for this miracle cure. if he lives, he brings hope to others afflicted with his conditions, and if he dies, he died in the name of bringing hope. he convinces hinata to let him travel with him to towa city to look for the cure. if hinata knew how sick komaeda was, he wouldn't let him go, but he's "tricked" into thinking komaeda is okay enough to make the trip.

komaeda is also curious about how the WOH are doing. he had genuine care for them despite being despairpilled at the time and he wishes the best for them, but he thinks that he's not the right person to help them.

(a bunch of komahina travelling stuff in the middle that i need to develop dfkhjdffd)

komaeda's bad luck strikes as he and hinata are travelling through some ruined war-torn areas. the ground collapses and he falls a far way, and he and hinata are separated.

hinata tries desperately to look for him and encounters haiji towa. since toko and komaru couldn't reveal much about what happened in DR:AE he doesn't know how evil haiji is, just believing that he's the ruler of the city, and asks him if he knows where komaeda could be. Haiji doesn't want komaeda or anyone related to him anywhere in the city (i forget if they met at all in AE, but he might've found out from monaca, see later in this explanation fdkhjdffd) and steers hinata on a dangerous path.

komaeda meanwhile had bad luck, getting injured in his fall, but also had good (?) luck, falling right into the place where most of the WOH (except monaca) have been hiding. long story short, he realizes that he's the only adult at this time who has any understanding of them and their needs and fears. even though he feels like he's not the hypothetical best person to help them, he is the only Existing person who can. he previously hadn't really cared if he lived or died through the Miracle Cure Experiment, but now he has a strong reason to hope that the cure will work. he's in very rough shape now, having been hurt in the fall, along with his cancer and dementia wreaking havoc on him.

hinata finds him and is horrified at his condition. he really wants to take him back to the island and just take care of him, but komaeda knows that he needs to hold onto this last hope. if they just go back to the island, he'll have a peaceful death, but won't be there for those who need him.

i still need to work out the ending and whether it's a tragedy or not (hmm) but monaca is in trouble, having been separated from Servant after she was hurt in UDG and servant rescued her. he was captured and put in the NWP, but she was left in towa city and captured by haiji without servant to help her. I think she's involved against her will in the miracle cure experiment somehow (human experimentation?)

i'm so sorry this is so long dfhkjfdfd basically... i want this to be a story about having no reason to live, but slowly finding one and realizing that people love you and need you. i didn't really describe everything that well here, but i hope i can make it better in the actual story hehe. the first story does the heavy work of developing komahina into a close relationship (although not fully romantic) and the next story is meant to take it to another level and also focus on a lot of dadmaeda feels

thank you so much for giving me an opportunity to ramble, and feel free to ask any more questions if anything didn't make sense or if you want more details for anything!!

[jacksmusesdrv3]

Forever looking for ways to explain things via graphics so, here's one for how I tend to manage analysis around possible DRV3 conspiracy in relation to the common Fiction take and also its fandom (because why not make it a sciency looking scale huh)

Neutral zone would be something like this thing talking about Shuichi, although depending on your perspective things I intend for this zone is prolly pushing the ph4 boundary, it's something I want to be able to reach the middle. It's easiest to communicate in this zone because it means only making lighter speculations and laying out evidence, which means I can be a bit flexible as long as I word it adequately. Sometimes music inspiration can fit in this zone nicely!

Vibe zone is where I want to be more comfortably as that's where much of my personal investment and emotion is, but is often very hard/impossible to communicate in Neutral zone as it requires reshaping one's view of the game's truth first. I tend to put more specific kind of music inspiration, and theory of Kokichi’s character, twin and the basic DRV3 world in here. It's also where I spend time creating for catharsis (too many damn WIPs though, le sigh)

HELP zone - so named because it's the thing that had me screaming out for help - encompasses very-unfortunately connected behind-the-text social-cultural issues - a solid ph0 due to the sheer fuckery - thematic speculations on said fuckery, and also very complicated threads I don't know what to do with unless I make a way more detailed plan with research. This is an area that demands more care lest it poisons me

Don't know what to say about ph10-12 except it is just that- something I find uninspiring personally (unless it's fanfic that vibes in distinct ways I find interesting). Ph13-14 viscerally annoys me to the point I don't want to see it much less talk about it 90% of the time (that's 'Real Fiction' in a nutshell- don't care for it and am firm in my feelings that it's bullshit)

This is super simplified and I may come back to it to revise but wow I might just start using a ph scale or something-

[whosname]

[Id. Digital sketch of 1. Tatsuma smiling in full conman mode saying "Kintoki, did ya know that bags containing 50 million yen were invented by jesus?" 2. Gintoki with a confuse expression picking his nose. End Id.]

Decided to listen The Unbelievable Truth on my morning mental health walk, caught a Henning Wehn episode. He always does the same joke at the beginning of his... talk but it always cracks me up.

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

EEE SO HAPPY RN I'll get some actual free time now that my pesky quizzes and exams are over for a while xd

Phew...finally gonna get those 8 hours of beauty sleep 😔<333

[7yorishiroxz]

Im so angry add RARE to spotify NOWWWWW I NEED TO PLAY IT ON LOOP OR ELSE I WILL CRASH OUT!!!!! I DONT CARRRREEE IF IT LIKW JUST CAME OUT I NEED IT TO JUST COME OUT ON SPOTIFY, TOO! I AINT GOT NO TIME FOR "GIVE THEM TIME" AND im hungry now but im not allowed to eat right now. oh my god im behind school by so much im actually gonna die but im also so hungry someone give me dumplings...

[slightly-knot-insane]

Loving your writing and saw that you’re accepting asks!

I have this thought about monster boyfriend of some sort who is desperate to have sex but you’re hesitant/nervous because he’s so big/will knot you. He reassures you and says that he’ll put in just the tip to ease you into it and then you’re both going crazy for it and he goes feral and thrusts the whole thing in/pops his knot in you

I'm so happy to hear this! Especially since English is not my first language (if that isn't painfully obvious lol). Thank you for this incredibly excellent ask!

Hidden in the Basement

[ m!monster x fem!reader ]

You could hear him in the basement. It was that time of the year - he goes into rut and he simply... needs his alone time. He always kisses you, lingering just a tad bit longer than usual, and retreats downstairs.

You stand outside the door. He is trying to stay as quiet as he can, muffling his groans and heavy breathing, but he's too loud. Too pent up.

You want to help him. He is almost frenzied when in rut and sometimes hurts himself or the others. He recognizes you, of course, but there is something in his behavior that scares you. Although - you bite your lip - not in a necessarily bad way.

You notice the basement is too quiet. Is he okay? You try the door handle - surprisingly, he didn't lock himself in. Perhaps he forgot? You go downstairs, as quietly as possible. It is almost too dark to see, but you can't turn on the light - you shouldn't be here after all.

He is kneeling on the floor, his huge pulsating cock in one hand as he is trying to get off. It is out of the sheath, a big bulbous knot at the base, and leaking glans on the top. His other hand is holding your panties. He is sniffing and biting them while jacking off. The fabric is completely damp.

Your face burns from embarrassment. Somehow you feel you shouldn't have seen this. Maybe you could sneak outside without him noticing? But... do you want to? You've never seen him like this, barely human, his limbs different and longer and stronger, his neck wider, his tail more flexible. It was him, but not completely. Also his cock... it changed in a rather interesting way.

He finally senses you and his eyes snap open, his pupils dangerously dilating.

"I'm sorry!" You panic and try running upstairs. You barely climb two steps before he grabs you from behind and lifts you. You yelp in surprise. He carries you downstairs and, without letting you go, kisses you. Everything about him is different, even his embraces. They are so intense, more consuming, needy. More feral. His hands quickly remove all your clothes and his fingers find your breasts.

"Wait," you gasp. "You are so big. I can't..."

He nibbles your neck, his large hands cupping your ass cheeks. "I need you. I will be careful, I promise. Let me have you a little bit or I'll go mad." His voice mutated into more dominant, animalistic one. You whimper as his finger finds your pussy and pushes against your entrance. "Not wet enough."

In one easy move, he lifts you up in front of his face and places your knees over his shoulders. Once your pussy is perfectly leveled with his large mouth, he proceeds to eat you out like a starving animal.

"Aaaah... aaah..." You wiggle and pant, sensations too overwhelming. But he firmly holds you in place. His tongue reaches places no toy or his human form ever reached. It circles around your clit and pumps into your entrance, swelling and pulsating. Your boyfriend pleasures you until you're soaking wet and trembling, and then lowers you just above his massive cock. "Please!" you scream, intimidated by the knot. "I can't do it..."

"I will put just the tip in," he reassures you. "I would never hurt you."

He sounds like your old wonderful boyfriend and you slightly relax in his arms. The way he kisses you by biting your lips, licking your face and sliding his long tongue deep into your throat is truly something special. Distracting you with his mouth, he slowly forces his glans into your pussy. It glides easily, and you both moan.

"You are so..." he whispers under his breath. "So tight. So amazing."

He barely enters and immediately lifts you up again. He is breathing heavily and sweating, his muscles trembling. You know it's not because he can't hold you like this - he is barely controlling himself, trying not to impale you on his massive cock.

"More..." You whine, his monster phallus rubbing against your wet walls. "Give me more."

He grunts happily and let's you slide down. He fills you completely, holding you safely with his arms. "Fuck... Can I go faster?"

"Yes please." Your blood is already boiling, nerves vibrating from incoming orgasm.

He starts bouncing you up and down, only pushing the half of his length inside. It doesn't feel uncomfortable. He is stretching you bit by bit, and immediately pulling out. His grunts and panting, and your moaning surround your sweating bodies. "Fuck... Fuck..." you both pant into each other's ear.

"Harder," you moan and his hips start jerking upwards when his arms lower you down. The impact is so much stronger, more intense, more ecstatic. After just a few thrusts, you climax and scream into your hands. You are so loud, it's embarrassing.

"No, let me hear you. Scream more for me. "

He speeds up, your pussy contracting around his cock and you can only moan and whimper from your overwhelming prolonged orgasm. He presses you against his chest, growling like a beast, and jerks his hips upwards. There is some sudden pain, but pleasure too, and you cry out.

His low moans become louder as he pounds you. Your entire body feels his body, all around you and inside you. Finally, with a hard thrust, he grunts into your hair and forces you even harder against his body. Hot liquid enters deeply into your womb. It feels amazing.

With panting and drooling all over you, your boyfriend lets your torsos separate. But nothing else.

"I knotted in you. I can't pull out." He sounds both happy and worried. You look down and see a big bulge from your swollen pussy all the way to your navel. And finally you realize his whole monster cock entered you including the knot. "I'm sorry," he says.

It doesn't hurt too much. It's a bit sore, sure. With little practice, you are sure you could do this every day. The thought makes your pussy throb. He feels that and looks at you curiously.

With a sly smile, you rub the tip of his cock through your skin and it twitches. "Sorry? I'm upset we haven't tried this sooner. No need to hide in the basement from me ever again." Realizing what you said, he happily purrs and embraces you.

[sunskisser]

may i request 🐚 with domestic prompt - “a blanket draped over a sleeping form” with bucky barnes please! congratulations on 1k!

thank you lovely!! :)

a blanket draped over a sleeping form + bucky barnes

꩜ bucky barnes x reader

꩜ summary: bucky takes care of you when you’re sick

“Hi, doll.”

Bucky’s voice is soft, a rope tugging you from your delirious slumber. You groan and press your face further into your snot-covered pillow.

He coos sympathetically, pressing his hand to the back of your neck. It’s cold. “I’m sorry. But you need to eat before you can sleep, okay? It gives your immune system the energy it needs.”

“But I don’t want to,” you croak out.

“I know,” Bucky murmurs. The bed shifts under his weight as he sits on the edge. He rubs your scalp consolingly, feeling you melt into his touch. “I know. But you gotta do it.”

You groan again. Bucky doesn’t wait for you to reply, simply places his palms on your hips and gently turns you over.

You crack your eyes open, coming face to face with your boyfriend looking down at you. He softens. You turn your face into his palm when he reaches out to brush your hair behind your ear. “Hi.” You press a kiss to his palm.

“Hi, doll,” he smiles fondly. “If you think you’re distracting me, it’s not working.”

Bucky chuckles when you huff. He helps you sit up, smile widening as you grumble something about him being a pain in the ass.

Your blanket pools at your waist. He notices the way you tense up, chill air hitting your bare skin. He immediately helps wrap the thick blanket around your shoulders, cocooning you.

“I look like a taco.”

“An adorable one,” Bucky replies with a kiss to your temple. He taps a spoon against a bowl of soup. It looks disgustingly yellow, like your great-grandmother Nancy’s teeth, you think. “Now, open up.”

You gasp. “James Barnes! You vile man, trying to get in a sick girl’s pants —“

“Y/n.”

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Not to take care of me, but —“

“Y/n,” he sighs again, lips curving upwards. “If you keep talking, I might just stuff the spoon in your mouth.”

You giggle. Bucky rolls his eyes, smiling despite himself. “Come on, doll. Say aaah.”

“Aaaah.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs as your lips close around the spoon. “You eat this all up, and I’ll give you a kiss.”

You smile. The soup doesn’t taste too bad after all.

san’s 1k ocean odyssey

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Aaah, look at that, some more headcanons no one asked for but that I will be subjecting everyone to anyway.

Was in the process of trying not to hack up a lung when I started this, so logical train of thought went to how our One Piece boys handle being sick.

May do a sister-post of how they handle it when you’re sick, too. But. Like. Not right now.

Anyway here we gooooo

Sick Day

Zoro, Sanji, Shanks, Sir Crocodile, Mihawk, Buggy x Reader

SFW! Very fluff! Much cringe!

Wordcount: Like 1.6k-ish

Warnings also include very fluff and much cringe, but not much else. All character x reader relationships are implied to be already established and consensual.

If you enjoy my content, feel free to drop a donation in my ko-fi. My financial situation is quite unstable right now and anything is helpful.

Zoro

“Look, I’m fine, alright? Just...lay off.”

Insisting he is absolutely not sick right from the start, only reason he looks so flushed is because he’s been training harder than usual.

And also because you’re irritating him stop saying he’s sick, dammit—

You’re not going to be able to get him to rest until he literally collapses, hopefully not directly onto the business end of one of his katana.

For someone who enjoys napping so much, he’s still adamant that he does not need to lay down.

Once you finally manage to get him shoved into his preferred hammock he’s going to turn into a clingy baby.

Convincing him to take any medicine would take an act of god. Most he’ll let you do is drape a damp cloth over his forehead.

Which does feel nice, and does calm down most of his protest.

After that he’s going to drag you in with him and use you as a human teddy bear, where you will likely be forced to remain while he sleeps it off.

Sanji

“Well, of course I don’t want to contaminate the food, love, but I don’t want anyone burning my kitchen to the ground either—”

He’s usually awake before anyone else to make breakfast, so you’re concerned from the moment you wake up and find the kitchen empty.

Even more concerned when you find him still in bed, face flushed, grimacing and shivering in his sleep.

Barely wakes up and manages a weak smile when you sit at the edge of the mattress, a contented little sigh when you lay your palm across his forehead.

Admits he might be a little under the weather.

Briefly lapses into panic when he realizes what time it is, immediately trying to get up and go handle breakfast—

All you have to do is give him a firm poke in the chest and he just falls right back into bed, pouting a bit when you point out he could contaminate the food and get the entire crew sick.

Gazing up at you like you’re some sort of celestial being when you assure him you’ll take care of it, and that you’ll make sure no one burns down the kitchen in his absence.

He’s already asleep again when you return with a bowl of miso with rice, but when you set them to the side and sit at the edge of the bed to feel his forehead, he immediately shifts over, drapes an arm across your lap and lays his head there, with a contented sigh and smile.

You’re trapped now. Good luck escaping.

Shanks

“Oh, I’ll be fine, beautiful, you don’t need to make such a fuss over it.”

He plays it off so well that it takes you a while to notice anything is amiss.

There are a couple hints. He’s just not quite as chipper and animated as he usually is, lazing around and looking a bit sour about something, a bit distracted.

Tries to brush it off as a hangover when you ask.

Heavy sigh and defeated pouting when you press your lips to his forehead and inform him he’s burning up.

Lamenting that he doesn’t want to be sick, it will surely sort itself out if he just ignores it.

Maybe a little booze to burn it out of his system—

Pouting only intensifies when you confiscate every bottle you can find in the captain’s cabin, and step out to hand it off to Beckman and explain the situation like he wasn’t already aware, you swear these two have some kind of psychic link

Immediate puppy dog eyes when you return, you’re literally so mean to him how could you, you wound him.

He will only consider forgiving this clear act of mutiny if you agree to get in bed and be his pillow until he’s on his feet again.

Preferably with fewer clothes than you’re wearing at the present.

You’re already rolling your eyes and dressing down as he continues his overly dramatic lamentations.

He’s really too drained and tired to do anything apart from roll over and use your chest as a pillow, draping his arm across your shoulder and combing his fingers against your hair.

Nuzzling down and letting out a contented sigh, commenting with a little smirk that maybe he should fall ill more often.

Sir Crocodile

“I’m not clearing my entire schedule over a runny nose, darling, just leave me be.”

In the foulest of moods about being sick.

Yes, he’s aware his face looks like a tomato, thank you for pointing that out, brat.

No, he is not going to rest, he doesn’t have time to be sick, and if you so much as think of suggesting he put out his cigar—

You’re not going to have any luck in convincing him otherwise, nor any choice but to leave his stubborn ass alone in his office and stealthily check on him every so often.

You can only let out a weary sigh when you find him slumped over his desk hours later, half-conscious and drenched in sweat because he won’t take off that damned fur-lined coat.

You practically have to drag him to the bathroom to get him into a lukewarm bath to help bring down his fever, and he’s still complaining through the whole process about how he doesn’t have time for this nonsense.

Your offer to help finish his paperwork while he recuperates is met with an immediate growl of protest.

Like hell you are. No, if he has to suffer through this pointless ice-bath then you’re getting in with him. He will not be accepting any arguments on the matter.

It’s definitely best to just undress and not protest, as he’s going to pick you up and hold you back against his chest while he gets in whether you’re still clothed or not.

Letting out a low, somewhat weak, still incredibly smug chuckle when you shiver and shift closer to him in the water, wrapping an arm tight around your waist to prevent you from escaping any time soon.

Finally letting out a sigh and laying his head back against the tile wall behind him, admitting to himself (but definitely not to you) that you might be right, and it might not be the worst idea to clear his schedule for at least a day.

Mihawk

“That wasn’t a cough, I was simply clearing my throat. Don't be a pest.”

Only initial signs you’ll have that he’s ill are that he’s somehow napping even more than usual, and he’s more snippy than usual.

It’s not long before his pale complexion makes it clear that he’s feverish, the slightest signs of flushed skin and dark circles under his eyes immediately noticeable.

Rolls his eyes when you mention it and brushes it off, perhaps he just had a bit too much wine last night.

Glares at you any time he sneezes or coughs, like he’s just daring you to say something about it.

It’s allergies. Or it’s this-damned-old-castle-is-too-drafty. Or it’s nothing, stop looking at him like that, he doesn’t get sick, you’re the one who’s being ridiculous about this.

Your best bet at getting him to rest is going to be convincing him that you want to take a nap.

Yes, with him.

Yes, now, unless he has some important plans other than flipping through the newspaper and being impossibly stubborn for the rest of the day.

Your commentary earns you another roll of his eyes, but...well, maybe he is just a bit tired. And he might have a bit of a headache—the latter of which he will be attributing entirely to your badgering.

Still insisting you’re being ridiculous when you shove him into bed and proceed to wipe a damp cloth across his brow, glaring daggers at you when you chide him for acting like an overgrown toddler.

Assures you there will be repercussions for your insolence…at least there will be once he—resigned sigh, rolling eyes—isn’t feeling so under the weather.

That’s as close to an admission as you’re going to get.

Buggy

“I fear these may be our final days together, my dearest! Please remember me fondly--”

Can you not see that he is literally dying??

He is not long for this world, please retrieve a pen and a pad of paper posthaste to take down his last will and testament, everything is fading, he can see the light approaching—

You make use of his lamenting monologue as an opportunity to shove a thermometer in his mouth, more than used to his theatrics, patting him on the head as he stares up at you like you’ve committed some unspeakable crime by interrupting him.

He doesn’t get sick often, he has a fairly strong constitution, but oh boy when he does…

No objections at all to being waited on hand and foot. You don’t really have any issue with it either, he’d do the same for you.

And likely will have to within the next few days—as clingy as he gets, you’re definitely going to end up catching whatever he has.

Oh! but he would give an arm and a leg to be in good health again and so help you if he removes any limbs for a stupid joke you’re going to beat him with them.

Pouting and sniffling at your obviously idle threat, even as you pet his hair and he lays dramatically across your lap.

He’s already on his deathbed how dare you.

At least his sense of humor is still intact. Or he’s delirious with fever. Perhaps both.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Cater Diamond: Woke Up Lookin’ Like This

The way that goofy diamond mascot follows Cater into his various outfits 💀

dbsjgejeje Can’t believe he’s being an beauty guru/influencer showing off makeup products and shooting a GRWM vid in his groovy… OTL

Rise and Shine!

Looking like you have it together is far different than actually having it together.

Some days—like today—Cater had trouble getting himself out of bed. He always did in the end, but with great effort, like lugging a sack of potatoes to the washroom. A splash of ice-cold water often did the trick, rousing him awake and adding a faint flush or pink to his face.

But color is a flaw. Imperfect. No pure diamond has splotches of another color tainting it.

He’d paint over his half-dead canvas with cleanser, toner, serum, and moisturizer. Skincare was less routine and more ritual for him. A special magic charm, complete with an incantation muttered to himself.

Smile already. You’re never fully dressed without it.

By the time he patted himself dry, his face managed to settle into its usual arrangement. The upward curve of his lips, a friendly sparkle set in his eyes, tangerine waves pushed back by a headband to show off the mask he wore. This was “himself”—the thinnest sliver of Cater he showed the world.

He plopped down on at the foot his bed. His phone was mounted on a tripod, and just out of camerashot were various pieces of equipment. Extra lights, reflectors—tricks to flatter him. To distract, deceive. Even the placement of the plushies on his bed had been arranged for maximum visual appeal in the eye of the camera.

Aaand… action.

The recording started.

Cater flashed a huge grin and waved to his phone. “Gooood morning, Magicam fam! How’re you doing today?”

His spectators were, of course, no one. Not now, at least. He’d have to edit this footage later, tweak and fine tune it to achieve perfection before releasing it to the public. Then he would lap up that sweet, addictive validation.

And so he donned that mask once more, playing to his imaginary audience.

“Hahah, you guys are so silly.” He playfully tossed a few of his locks. “Did you think Cay-kun woke up like this? It takes effort to look this good!”

Cater winked, pointing at his imagined audience members. “You can do it too! I’ll walk you through my base makeup routine 🎵”

He held up a slim grey tube, his palm acting as its backstop to keep the camera focused on it. Other products were neatly lined up before him like a procession of card soldiers.

“Lately, I’ve been really gravitating to this beand new UV primer! Have you heard of it? It literally just came out this month. I got my hands on it as soon as I could and I’ve been wearing it every day since!”

Cater rattled off the benefits and uses of the primer: UV protection, dewy—not greasy (this difference was important) finish, great coverage, evening skin tone. “You can put powder on top or dab it on with a tissue over a full face of makeup and it still looks good! This is sure to go viral ⭐️”

He was in the middle of a demonstration when the knocking came. Cater startled, smearing a blob of product across one cheek.

“Aaah, shoot…!”

He scrambled for his phone, cutting off the recording. Then Cater shot up, rushing to his door while rubbing the primer into his skin.

"Coming...! Wait just a sec!" he called.

An aside, to consult his reflection in the mirror and ensure that every last bit of product had been pressed in. His skin was left supple and glowing, giving the impression of a guy that hadn't spent the last hour before drifting off doomscrolling and commenting on shallow posts. A guy that had it all together.

Cater slicked back a stray strand of hair and braced himself for his next act. The door swung open, revealing you and your school bag.

“Mornin’~! You’re up bright and early!” he chirped, casually leaning against the doorframe. “Wasn’t expecting you to be over so soon.”

“Oh—well, I wanted to see if I could catch you without your full face on.” You squinted at him. “Wow, did you really wake up looking like this?"

Cater gave a laugh that was light and effortless. "What do you think?" he asked teasingly. An expert dodging of the question--not the truth, but not quite a lie either.

You bit your lower lip, considering it. "Come on. Nobody's that perfect. Even Vil-senpai has to work hard to be the way he is."

You took a step toward him, and he backed up. One foot rested on that line dividing his room from the rest of Heartslabyul. You teetered there, as if on a tightrope. One more step, and you'd breach into his territory--his room, his most intimate place.

"... What's your secret?"

My secret?

He had many. Too many. They writhed like worms inside of him, those ugly pieces that shrank from the sunshine.

Cater turned away, plucking up another tube of product. He squeezed a dollop onto his index finger. "What's the fun in giving it away? I think..."

His arm shot out, poking you in the chin.

"... It's more fun to give chase! If you spot a white rabbit hopping around, you'd be curious about where it's going, right?"

Your reached for where he had marked you. Your fingers came away moist with a thick cream. With a sigh, you rubbed at it, the cream vanishing into your skin.

"You're impossible."

Cater smiled--perhaps for the first real time since he had woken up. "That's one impossibility! Come up with five more before breakfast and maybe I'll be nice enough to give you a hint~"

[rinhaler]

Can you do something like a mutual Masturbation with uncle!Nanami that leads to us having sex because he's so needy like he just NEEDS and CRAVES to be inside us.

-Very Much embarrassed Anon 🫂

pls don't tell me I'm the uncle nanami blog 😭 not my intention but im always happy to serve 🍽️

warnings: 18+, coercion, age gap, faux/incest (not clarified), use of 'uncle nanamin', m + f masturbation, tit sucking, praise, vaginal sex, creampie, squirting!!, implied virgin!reader, pussy spanks.

words: 1k

“Gooood girl, just like that.” your uncle coos against your bare shoulder, looking down at where your thighs straddle his and your fingers play with your swollen, needy clit at his command. He grunts, quietly, as he jerks himself off to the sight. The scent of sex and want fills the room as do the sticky sounds of you touching yourselves and the agonising grunts of desperation knowing that this will have to be enough and it’s all that will ever be enough.

“L-Love y— I love you. Uncle Nanamin—!” you manage to stutter out. Passion consuming you as your clit throbs desperately to be allowed to cum. The loving praise from Nanami is more than enough to topple you over that greedy edge, but eager fingers keep toying and playing and aching as you want nothing more than to cum for him.

He carefully moves your arm so that you’re clinging onto his shoulder for balance. Your hips rock against his thigh, the muscles and ridges forcing you to beg for forgiveness as you climb closer and closer to the edge of bliss. Nanami won’t stop you, though, he loves you too much for that. He uses his free hand to guide your tit to his lips, suctioning around your hardened nipple as he continues to stroke his cock with ardour.

You cum, messily. Pussy gushing all over his leg and dripping down onto the floor below. He gasps, beguiled. Eyes filled with a hunger you’ve never seen before. He didn’t know you could do that. You didn’t know you could do that, either.

Maybe you just love him that much.

Your love for Uncle Nanamin is cascading from your cunt because you can’t keep it all in. Not when you so seldom get time alone with him like this. You’re always missing him when he’s away on business trips and when you do have time together your family is nearby. But now, it’s just you two. And you want to be perfect for him.

With a performance like that, though, he couldn’t see you as anything but a perfect angel.

“Did that feel good, sweetheart? You’re shaking… poor thing.” he mumbles with purpose against your skin. Each word surging to your throbbing bead and desperate to have more. You want to cum again. You look pathetic as your hand flies to your sex and your rubbing hurriedly again just so you can hear him say more sweet words to you and make you feel oh so special. “Stay right there.” he orders you, calmly, and it sounds more like a request.

You can barely put up a fight as he moves you carefully. Your legs no longer straddling his leg, just his waist and he takes it upon himself to distract you by sucking at your raised nipple once again.

“I’m sorry, princess, I shouldn’t be doing this…” he says quietly as he lines up his cockhead with your tight virgin slot, kissing your exposed skin again and again as he tries to ease himself in. “She’s made for me, yeah? Ohhhhh — fuck — you’re so tight. Such a good girl f’me…”

“Ah.. aaah—!” you moan and hiss ever so slightly as you feel his heavy shaft split open your untouched walls. You shouldn’t be doing this, he’s right. But you can’t possibly begin to care when your favourite uncle is giving you so much attention. So much love and so much of him.

He moves you like you’re nothing. Holding your sides and lifting you up and down slowly again and again as he alternates between kissing your skin and your supple tits. It gets easier. With each and every pummel of his tip against your soft, spongy spot it gets so much fucking easier. He covers your mouth as your moans become unruly.

“Sh… sh sh shhhh, princess… as pretty as you sound you can’t be too noisy, or you’ll get in so much trouble.” he reminds you. Tears spill from your eyes and run down his large, veiny hand. “Messy girl. Drooling and crying all over my hand, s’cute.” he grins.

You feel weightless as he uses you like you’re a doll. His perfect little doll made to take him in every sense of the word. You yelp against his suffocating palm when you feel his free hand come down and lightly spank your clit.

“What about her? Is she gonna be a messy girl for me?” he moans, feeling himself getting so close to spilling his seed inside of you. You shiver, his sloppy kisses leaving behind trails of spit that cool your body with every thrust. “I want to make a mess of you, sweetheart. Please… please let me.” he begs. You’ve never heard him like this. So desperate and needy and pleading for you to give him the answer he so craves.

“A-Anything—” you start, your head lolling back as you lose all composure. “Wan’ you to f-feel good, Uncle N-Nanamin!” you tell him.

With a few more desperate frenzied thrusts and delicate rubs of your sensitive core, you cum harder than you ever have before using your tiny fingers. He can’t help but admire the way you cream for him. Clear liquid shoots from your cunt and makes a mess of yourself, your uncle, and the bed beneath. And he can barely admire it, the sight being too much for him as he follows you into your high. You feel your insides turn warm as his cum fills your body.

His chest rises and falls dramatically as he fucks all he can into your cunt, but he can’t deny you as your face searches eagerly for his. You need to feel his lips on yours and he reciprocates instantly, wanting to assure you that you’re loved and he’s proud. You’re always such a perfect girl for him, his sweet angel.

He’s usually so coolheaded. Always in control and knows how to handle his wants and desires. But when it comes to you, he’s hopeless. How could he resist his cute little niece? Always so eager to please and keen to be with him. You’ve always been so affectionate and loving with him. So he had to have you.

And you have to give him anything he wants. Because you love your Uncle Nanamin.

© 2023 rinitxshi

[yoditopascal]

Work from Home

"I know you gotta, put in them hours. I'ma make it harder I'm sendin' pic' after picture I'ma get you fired."

warnings: established relationship, Roy Harper being Roy Harper, sending nudes, semi-nsfw minors DNI

Part 2

A buzz from his pocket pulled Red Hood from his thoughts, fingers fumbling as he pulled the device from the confounds of his tactical pants.

It had taken him a while to get used to you just randomly contacting him outta the blue while he’s working but now he’s gotten accustomed to the texts and 3am phone calls on the roof when the nights are finally calm.

It was to the point now that Roy expected them and always teased him about needing his ‘alone time’

One New Message.

‘Miss you!’ it read

It didn’t surprise him that you had contacted him. Like he said you always did around this time of night.

He shook his head, thumb tracing over the open button, noticing that there was an attachment this time. He shook his head, leaning back against the brick wall behind him, thumb tapping at the open button, Jason nearly dropping the phone as the image popped up.

It was a picture of you in red panties and his Red Hood shirt, tied in a knot at your waist, sitting on your shared bed in front of a mirror

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, eyes glancing around him quickly making sure Roy was out of ear shot. Unfortunately he wasn’t.

His face was as red as his mask was as he slammed his phone shut quickly, his heart racing in his chest.

“You good man?”

His phone vibrated again, another pic from you this time you were lifting the shirt from your frame, the underside of your boobs just barely visible.

“Y-yeah just-” He honestly didn’t know what to tell him as he felt his body heat up.

One more message this time you were topless the only thing covering your chest was the one hand you were using to just barely cover your nipples. He damn near groaned out loud.

“Aaah it's that time huh?”

“...yeah.”

“Say less Jaybird.”

Peaking over his shoulder Roy catches a glimpse of the last pic you sent and let out a low whistle

Jason never wanted to smack him as much as he had just now.

Shoving his best friend, Jason quickly closed the message and stared Roy down.

“I know when I'm not wanted,” he chuckled as he gathered his bow and quiver “I’ll see you later man” he said walking backwards off the roof as he gave Jason a finger salute.

He shifted from one foot to the other, trying to distract himself from his own hardening dick in his pants. Fingers tapped on the reply button quickly, knowing that if he didn’t reply, you weren't going to wait around for him. Pausing to adjust his pants, Jason jumped from the roof landing by his motorcycle before hopping on and taking off into the night.

'On my way.’

[jaredpadonlyyyy]

𝙈𝘼𝙋 𝙍𝙊𝙊𝙈, 𝙏𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀.

𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏, 𝙋𝙐𝙍𝙀 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏𝙏𝙔, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏

𝙄𝙁 𝙔𝙊𝙐’𝙍𝙀 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝟭𝟴 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙄𝙎 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙔𝙊𝙐!

𝙋 𝙄𝙉 𝙑, 𝙐𝙉𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙏𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙀𝙓 (𝘋𝘖𝘕𝘛 𝘉𝘌 𝘚𝘐𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘞𝘙𝘈𝘗 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘞𝘐𝘓𝘓𝘠) 𝙁𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙇𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙀𝙄𝙑𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙈𝘼𝙇𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙀𝙄𝙑𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙁𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙐𝙎𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙔/𝙉

𝘾𝙊𝙋𝙔 𝙍𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏𝙎: 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙊𝙉𝙇𝙔 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂𝙎 𝙏𝙊 𝙈𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙈𝙀 𝙊𝙉𝙇𝙔, 𝘿𝙊 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙎𝙀𝘼𝙇, 𝙄 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝙁𝙄𝙉𝘿 𝙔𝙊𝙐.

🫐 • • • • • 💙 • • • • • 🦋 • • • • • 💙 • • • • • 🫐

Sam and Y/N were the only ones in the bunker. Dean, had gone out, he said he needed a night out to get a hook up. So, that left Y/N sitting in the chair across from her boyfriend Sam. The hunters barely started dating, and they hadn’t done anything yet. They have not gotten any alone time, since Dean is always around. And finally Y/N had the chance to get it on with her boyfriend. Y/N looked up from the lore book she was reading and saw how Sam, was distracted on his laptop, most likely looking for some kind of case. Y/N had her night rode on with nothing under it. Sam, didn’t know. She smirked as she stood up.

She walked over to Sam, and she sat on the map table. She opened her legs sucking on her finger, and then she reached down to her swollen nub and she started to rub it. “Ah.” She softly moaned, that made Sam looked up from his laptop only for his eyes to widen as he saw Y/N rub her clit as her legs spread wider. Y/N threw her head back as she lets out a louder moan. Sam, gulped hard as he adjusted his tight jeans. Y/N opened her eyes and looked over at Sam. “You want a taste?” She asked him softly as she glides her fingers through her folds collecting her slick and brings it to Sam’s mouth as he listened and opened his mouth. Y/N puts her finger in his mouth.

Sam, closed his hazel eyes moaning softly as he got a taste of her. Y/N took out her finger as she closed his laptop, putting it to the side as she got in front of him. Her legs spread open, so he could get a view of her glistening pink pussy. Sam, grabbed her legs and brought her closer to the edge of the table as he kissed her legs all the way to her inner thighs softly.

Sam, stood up and Y/N reached her hand to his belt as he took off his shirt. He tossed it to the side as she took off his belt, as well as his pants. Y/N pulled down his boxer shorts and his dick sprints up long, with pre-cum leaking from the tip. Y/N looked up at the hunter as he grabbed her face making her moan at how he grabbed her. “I want you so bad.” Sam told her as she moaned again. “I need you.” She said as she looked into his lust full eyes. They were darker than usual. Y/N grabbed his shaft and kissed the tip of his head. Licking the slit making him gasp out loudly as his dick twitched in her hand. Y/N got the taste of his pre-cum putting her whole lips taking on his whole tip into her mouth making him whimper.

The hunter tangled his hand through her hair and pushed her head making her take him all in making her let out a gagging noise as he groaned closing his eyes. Sam, pulled her away making her look into his eyes, as she breathed heavily. He got on his knees, his fingers going on her pussy as he kissed her clit. “Sam, oh fuck!” She threw her head back as she lays down on the table. Sam, puts a finger at the entrance of her pussy, enters her as he flicks his tongue on her sensitive bundle of nerves making her let out the most loudest moan ever. Her eyes rolling to the back of her head as his fingers curled inside of her, going in and out of her in a fast pace as her legs shook.

“Ooo! Fuck!” She squealed her toes curled as she started to see white lights. Sat looked for something to get ahold of for leverage but couldn’t find anything. So, she sat up on her elbows and went to grip Sam’s, hair as she moaned out his name over and over. Y/N pulled him in deeper into her as she rolled her hips. “I’m coming! Oh fuck! Sam! Sam! Aaah!” Her mouth dropped open as she intensely began to shake. Sam, feeling how her walls would clench around his long fingers. “Don’t stop! Please! Don’t stop!” She screwed her eyes shut as she felt her second orgasm hitting her making her let out a deep moan. Shaking uncontrollably as he drank her.

Slumping Y/N fell back onto the table still feeling the aftershocks as she pants hard. Her eyes barely open as Sam came up wiping his lips as he was also panting hard. “Fuck.” She said looking at the name hunter. “That was. . . Out of this world.” She said as a smile grazed her lips. “Yeah, I could tell.” He told her.

Shaking Y/N sat up and pushed the hunter onto the chair. Both eyes not looking away from the other as she got on top of him. “I’m surprised you can still keep going.” He told her as she smirked. “Oh, baby, you have no idea.” She whispered as she leaned to him. “I can keep going. And you can use me how ever you want.” She whispered against his lips as Sam starts to breath heavy. Y/N straddled his hips, she grabs his dick, lining herself up and slips down. Sam’s hands flying to her hips as they both moan.

Y/N started to slowly roll her hips as she tried to adjust to the size of the hunter. Sam, places his head on her shoulder closing his eyes as he pants at how tight she felt around him. “F-fuck.” Sam moaned. Y/N started to roll her hips more faster as Sam grunts. She hugged him around his neck as he hugged her waist as she started to bounce on him and he was helping her. “Sam, you feel so fucking good!” She threw her head back. Sam, kept on grunting as he helped her bounce on him up and down, up and down. Over and over again. Sam, stood up from the chair after he made sure she wrapped her legs around him making her gasp as he walks over to his room both of them heatedly kissing each other.

Sam was still inside of her. He slammed her back into the wall. Not roughly, but not gently either. Y/N arched her back as she felt the coldness of the wall. Sam started snapping his hips against hers at a fast pace both moaning loudly, especially since they were both alone. “Hard! Hard!” Y/N moaned against his lips as he relentlessly slammed into her. Y/N was a complete moaning mess, his tip hitting her sweet spot over and over again. Sam slowed down and got her off the wall as he kept on walking over to his room. Sam opened the door and kicked it closed with his foot. Placing her on the bed with him on top of her, still inside of her. And he started to slam into her again, and again and again. Until finally Y/N hugs Sam so tightly moaning loudly into his ear as she shook underneath him. “Saaam! Aaah!” Her legs pulled him deeper making her gasp riding her high.

Sam, felt his dick starting to twitch, meaning he was about to come as well. Thrusting fast and hard, grunting and groaning. Finally Sam pulled out. “Aarrgh!!” He moaned as his release shoots out of him onto her stomach. “Fuck, aah, ah!” He pumped his dick as he finished sitting back on his heels trying to catch his breath as they were both fucked out. Y/N was laying their slumped sweat all over her body as she had her eyes closed catching her breath as well.

The Winchester hunter, fell onto her side as his dick softened, bringing her into his arms. Y/N getting comfortable her eyes heavy with sleepiness as she was fucked the fuck out. Y/N has had hook ups in the past. But Sam, he knew how to satisfy and fuck a woman. “That, was honestly the best sex I’ve ever had.” Y/N said softly with her eyes closed relaxing.

“Yeah, honestly. I didn’t think you would be the one to start it.” Sam told her as she laughed softly. “Well, I was horny, and if I don’t make the first move, who will.” She said her voice filled with tiredness of all the moans, Sam, was getting out of her.

Sam, was looking up at the ceiling and he heard soft snoring and he looked down smiling as he saw she had fallen asleep. He puts a strand of her hair behind her ear, making her shift her head and that’s how they both fell asleep. Cuddling naked and satisfied.

🫐 • • • • • 💙 • • • • 🦋 • • • • 💙 • • • • • 🫐

[hainge]

Fifth Bullet: Where the Fire Left Ashes

cowboy!kaiser x fem!reader pt. 5 (wc 3.6k) from Silver bullets and stolen hearts part IV part VI warnings: MDNI!!!! swearing, violence, gun usage, mature language, mention of death/blood

“Pfft-” Shidou clapped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders jerking with the effort not to laugh.

“You can laugh. I don’t give a damn,” Kaiser muttered, puffing on his cigar and glancing out the window like he wasn’t hoping for a distraction.

Shidou lost it. “P-PHAHAHAHAHAH! You got all sour and moody over that? That? You sittin’ here lookin’ like a kicked dog ‘cause of some sentimental shit?”

Kaiser’s jaw twitched. He exhaled smoke slow, like it’d calm him. It didn’t. He shot Shidou a glare, then gave him a firm shove off the bed.

Shidou let out a wheeze as he hit the floor with a thud. “Aaah, Mihya, you amuse me,” he said from the rug, grinning like a damn fox. “Makes me feel all poky inside.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Shidou sat up, rubbing his back, eyes glinting. “By the by, mind explainin’ why your calendar’s sittin’ on August of 1885? It’s May, dumbass. It’s actually starting to piss me off”

Kaiser didn’t even look. “Because I was gone for nine months, you nosy ant. Try keepin’ up.”

When he finally glanced Shidou’s way, the bastard wasn’t on the floor anymore. He was standing near the dresser, poking at the neat little pile of art supplies Kaiser had laid out earlier.

“Oooh, what’s this? For lil’ ol’ me? You shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t touch it,” Kaiser warned, voice low.

“These pens,” Shidou said, lifting the box with a twinkle in his eye. “I knew a fella who had these exact ones. Real pedo. Found him facedown dead in a ditch, pens shoved straight up his ass”

“Stop,” Kaiser growled, and snatched the box out of his hands with a sharp motion. “Don’t fuckin’ touch it.”

Shidou threw his hands up in mock surrender, that grin never leaving his face. “Whoa there, sweetheart. I ain’t mean no harm.”

He wandered casually around the room, inspecting the walls like he lived there. “So…this is for her?”

Kaiser didn’t answer. He sat back down, propped his elbow on his knee, and took another drag from his cigar.

“When you plannin’ on givin’ it to her?”

“Hopefully never,” he muttered under his breath.

Shidou let out a snort that turned into a strange wheezing giggle. “What kinda laugh was that?” Kaiser shot him a disgusted look. “You sure you’re not possessed?”

“I might be,” Shidou shrugged, crossing his arms with dramatic flair. “Possessed with secondhand embarrassment, considerin’ how shit you are at apologizin’. Lord, it’s painful watchin’ you try.”

Kaiser narrowed his eyes. “It’s not exactly my strong suit.”

“Yeah, no kiddin’. You hand over flowers like you’re surrenderin’ at war and mutter some half-dead ‘I’m sorry’ like it’s gonna erase the whole mess. Brother, she’s got more reason to shoot you than to hug you.”

Kaiser looked away. “I know.”

“You want her back?”

There was a long pause. The only sound was the faint ticking of the clock on the wall and the soft crackle of the cigar.

“…I want her to be okay,” Kaiser said finally. “That’s all.”

Shidou tilted his head. “That ain’t all. You love her. Which means you’re gonna have to grow a damn spine and say what matters.”

Kaiser ran a hand through his hair. “You make it sound easy.”

“‘Cause for once it is, dumbass. Just tell her you’re sorry like a man. No riddles, no dramatics. Just plain words. You’re only makin’ it harder the longer you wait.”

Kaiser didn’t answer. He just stared at the pencils in the box like they might give him courage.

“Can I give it to her?” Shidou asked with a wink.

“Touch it again and I’ll break your wrist.”

Shidou laughed. “There’s my boy.” You sat at the table, eyes fixed on the card as if it might shift or speak if you stared long enough. It had been sitting there for nearly an hour now, untouched except for the crease your thumb had left when you placed it down.

The quiet was broken by the soft jingle of keys at the front door. A moment later, your father stepped inside, boots dusted from the road, his hat in one hand.

“Hello, Y/n.”

“Hi…” you replied, voice low and unfocused.

He walked over to you, eyes filled with the kind of softness only a father could carry. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, warm and steady.

“How’s it going? You feelin’ any better?”

“Huh? Oh…yeah, better,” you said quickly, eyes flicking away from the card. “Better, I guess.”

He gave a small nod, not quite convinced, and turned to head toward the bathroom, talking over his shoulder about the rough ride home and the broken wheel on the wagon. He got a few steps before he stopped, voice dipping just enough to catch your attention.

“You know, Kaiser told me it was just an argument. Said it got a little heated.” His eyes scanned the floor. “Didn’t expect to come home to a broken vase.”

Your stomach twisted. “Ah- I forgot to clean it. Sorry, I…”

You trailed off as he sighed and crouched beside the shattered pieces still resting in the corner.

“I couldn’t think straight,” you admitted, guilt curling in your voice.

“It’s alright, dear. Everything’s alright,” he said gently, gathering the larger shards with care. “You don’t need to apologize for that.”

When he stood again, he glanced at the table and his eyes landed on the card.

“This from me?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Yes. It’s for you.”

“From who?”

“I don’t know…it didn’t say.”

He hummed low in his throat, thoughtful, and took the card into his weathered hands. His eyes scanned the front, but he didn’t open it. Instead, he slid it into his coat pocket.

“I’ll open it later,” he said, voice unreadable.

That made your head tilt slightly without meaning to. There was a shift in the air, subtle, but not unnoticed. Like something unspoken had just taken up space between you.

He didn’t explain. He simply gave you a soft pat on the shoulder and walked into the next room, leaving behind only the echo of that strange, deliberate pause. "…Without any hint of escape…without any hint of escape…" you murmured, barely aware you were speaking aloud. Your gaze lingered on the closed door your father had disappeared behind, but you said nothing. You just thought. And thought. Something in you stirred uneasily, like a clock ticking too fast. You didn’t know what, or when, but you felt it, soon, something would happen. Something that would finally give you a hint. A clue to whatever message that card held, and who had sent it.

"GO, GO, GO, GO, GO-" BANG "HEADSHOOOOOT!" Shidou’s voice cut through the woods like a whipcrack of chaos.

Kaiser exhaled and lowered his rifle. The rabbit lay still, just a few meters away.

"Could’ve gone a little higher," Isagi muttered, adjusting his aim as he studied the next cluster of bushes.

"Like you could shoot a damned thing if your life depended on it, you empty-skulled fool," Kaiser snapped, tossing the rifle carelessly onto the patchy grass. He leaned back against his pale-coated horse and lit a cigar, the match flaring briefly against the afternoon sun.

Isagi rolled his eyes and raised his gun again, more focused on the movement in the brush than on whatever insult Kaiser had thrown his way.

"That one’s mine," Shidou grinned, tongue slipping out of his mouth as he pointed toward the rabbit. "That’ll be my dinner tonight. Hope it ain’t riddled with bone."

Ness, off to the side, stayed quiet, his fingers moving deftly over a pair of disassembled revolvers. He glanced at the sky like it might tell him something.

"What’s our next stop?" Ness asked finally, not looking up.

Kaiser didn’t answer right away. He took a long draw from the cigar, then breathed the smoke into the air like he was tired of everything around him. His voice came low and steady.

"You three go wherever the hell you feel like. I’m headin’ to her place."

Shidou gave a sharp whistle, grinning wide. "Well, I’ll be damned. The Emperor’s finally makin’ a move. You be sure to use some protection, now-"

BANG

Isagi fired again, taking down another small creature without so much as flinching.

Kaiser flicked ash off the cigar, ignoring Shidou’s crude comment, and pulled himself up onto his white horse.

The other three men watched as he settled in the saddle.

"Good luck," Ness offered, his voice dry, but not unkind.

Kaiser rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, then tugged the reins and set off down the trail without another word.

Behind him, Shidou laughed to himself. "Bet he forgot how to apologize properly."

Isagi didn’t even look over. "Bet he never knew how in the first place."

"How much we bettin’?" "Twenty dollars," isagi replied "Deal," Shidou smirked as they watched Kaiser ride off toward town.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long golden streaks across the dry dirt road as Kaiser rode his white horse through the narrow path back toward her home. The wind tugged at his coat and ruffled his already-messy hair, but his hands stayed tight on the reins. His lips moved quietly, breath shallow, voice barely audible over the rhythm of hooves on packed soil.

"I can do this…no, I can’t…no, shut the hell up, you’re doin’ it…" He exhaled hard and looked down at the small box tied with a velvet ribbon in his saddlebag, now repacked and neater than when he bought it.

"Just say the damned words…mean it for once…" He slid off the horse as he reached the porch, dusted off his coat, and held the box in one hand. His knuckles were white around it. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the door like it was a firing squad.

Then he knocked.

From inside, you were leaned against the kitchen counter, chewing lazily on a biscuit you had scrounged up, still caught somewhere between aimless thought and bitterness. Then came the knock. Sharp. Intentional. Not impatient, but certainly not casual either.

"Now what in the world…? Better be someone with a damn good reason," you muttered to yourself as you wiped your hands and made your way to the front.

You should have asked who it was.You should have waited.But you didn’t.

You opened the door, and there he stood.

Not a smirk in sight. No swagger. Hair a tousled mess like he hadn’t touched a brush in hours, though his coat was elegant, expensive as always, like he’d made a rushed effort to appear respectable.

"what the hell are you doin’ here?" your voice cracked somewhere between disbelief and rising fury. "I told you not to come near me. Not again. I told you to never speak to me"

"Y/N…" he said, almost like a plea.

"Leave, Michael. I swear, you stay one more second and you’ll make it worse. Dad!" your voice rose as you turned back into the house.

"Wait," he said quickly, stepping forward, though not crossing the threshold. "Please, just…listen for a second. I’m not here to start anything. I’m just..."

You stopped, but your eyes burned.

Kaiser swallowed and looked down for a second, the hand holding the box tightening ever so slightly.

"I am not good at this," he admitted, voice low and steady, but vulnerable in a way you’d never heard before. "Hell, I’ve never been good at it. Never knew the right words, and when I did, they always came too damn late. You were right to be mad. I was wrong, and I was careless. I said things I shouldn’t have. Did things worse."

He finally looked at you, really looked at you.

"I don’t blame you for hating me, not after what happened. I hate myself plenty for it. And I ain’t askin’ you to forgive me. Not now. Maybe not ever. I just needed you to know…I’m sorry. Sincerely. I don’t expect that to fix what I broke, but it’s the only honest thing I got left to give."

He slowly held the box out to you.

"This…isn’t a bribe. It ain’t a trick. It’s just something I picked up, thinking maybe you’d like it. That’s all."

You stared at it, not moving at first. The box was beautiful, the ribbon tied too neatly for someone like him. Suspicion warred with something softer in your chest, and your brows furrowed.

You finally reached out and took it. The moment your fingers touched the box, your arms dipped downward.

"For the love of---what the hell is in this? Rocks?" you muttered.

Kaiser gave a faint chuckle, the corner of his mouth twitching despite the heaviness in the air.

"Quality ain’t light, sweetheart," he murmured, then immediately regretted the familiar term and looked away. "Sorry. Habit."

You didn’t reply.

The weight of the box in your hands was nothing compared to the silence hanging between you both. You looked away, completely at a loss for words. Your lips parted slightly, but nothing came. There was nothing for you to apologize for.

"I…will get going. See you," he said, almost under his breath, before turning around.

"Bye…" you murmured, so quiet it barely reached the air behind him.

That wasn’t the Michael Kaiser you’d seen at the bar just a few days ago. There was no trace of that smug confidence, no heavy swagger. Just a tall, tired man with something you hadn’t seen in a long time, remorse. But beyond that, behind the eyes, behind the tension in his shoulders, you still saw the little boy you used to know. You didn’t want to think about that right now.

You turned back into the house, closed the door with a soft click, and looked down at the box still heavy in your arms.

"To my dearest Y/N," you read aloud from the small card tied to the ribbon. Your fingers brushed it once before tucking it against the lid.

Without letting your father hear the stairs creak beneath you, you made your way up to your room, step by quiet step. Once inside, you placed the box gently on your table, hands still unsure, then slowly pulled the ribbon loose.

You didn’t read the card first.

Instead, you lifted the lid and froze.

Shock hit you first.

Inside was a full set of art supplies. Not just a few scattered items, but a careful, curated collection. The canvas you had been saving up to buy today. Brushes, new ones, still bound in paper that matched the exact size and shape of the ones you needed most. A thick leather-bound sketchbooks that practically begged to be filled. Then your breath caught again.

A pair of earrings nestled in a small velvet pouch. Gold. Not plated. Real. Elegant, yet small enough to wear without drawing attention. You blinked.

Your gaze swept lower.

"Are you joking…?" you whispered as your fingers touched a pristine, untouched tin of Faber-Castell pencils. The real kind. Imported. The kind artists dreamed about but never got to hold in their hands.

And there, folded neatly at the bottom, was a single ribbon. Soft, sky-blue, with a delicate floral edge. You ran your fingers along it without thinking, unable to stop. The texture was smooth, almost like silk. So pointless and pretty. You couldn’t look away from it.

Your mouth had gone dry, but still you felt your focus pull in tighter and tighter. The longer you looked at everything, the harder it became to breathe evenly.

This was too much.

Far too much.

And somehow, exactly right. You finally looked over at the card, fingers hesitating only for a second before you opened it. The paper felt thick between your hands. And his handwriting, surprisingly, was beautiful. Elegant, almost aristocratic. A part of him you’d never seen before, like a secret he hadn’t meant to share.

To my dearest Y/n,

I don’t know if you’ll ever want to read this, not after the way things ended between us today. Maybe you’ll tear it up. Maybe you’ll let it sit unread in a drawer somewhere until the ink fades and the corners yellow. But if there’s even the smallest chance that you’ll read it, then I have to write it, if only to stop myself from going mad.

It was stupid, all of it. The arguing, the way I snapped at you. I don’t even remember what lit the fuse, just the way the fire took hold and burned straight through us like dry brush in summer heat. You looked at me different after. Like you were done. Like you’d seen some part of me you didn’t recognize anymore.

And I hated that more than anything.

I’ve been carrying something heavy for a long time now, something I never dared lay down between us. I kept it hidden in my chest like a loaded gun, pointed inward. I figured if I never named it, it couldn’t ruin what we had. But maybe that was foolish. Maybe not saying it out loud is what ruined us instead.

Y/n, I think I’ve loved you since we were kids, long before either of us knew what love meant. You, with your grass-stained skirts and scraped-up elbows, telling me I was being reckless again. You, who always knew when to call me out, when to pull me back. You were the only one who ever looked at me like I wasn’t just wild trouble. You saw something good, even when I couldn’t.

Do you remember the time we raced down by the river, when the water was high and the wind near tore the hat off my head? You laughed so hard you could barely breathe, and I thought right then, God help me, I’d give anything to be the reason she laughs like that forever. I never said it. Never had the guts. And now I wonder if maybe I waited too long.

You were always meant for more than this dust town and the mess of boys who don’t know how to hold onto what matters. I was afraid of that. Afraid you’d outgrow me, leave me behind like boot prints in the dirt. So I kept my mouth shut and let the years pile up, thinking maybe someday I’d be enough.

But today proved I’m not. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m not asking for anything. I just wanted you to know the truth before the silence between us sets in too deep. If this is the last thing I ever get to say to you, then let it be this:

I loved you before I even knew I was capable of it. I love you still, even now, with my pride cracked.

And if you never speak to me again, I’ll understand. But I’ll carry you with me, always, tucked into the spaces between all the things I never had the courage to say.

Yours, Michael Kaiser

You didn’t move. Not at first. You just sat there, the card resting on your thighs, the room silent save for the faint creaking of the old wood beneath your chair.

Your eyes had gone wide without realizing it.

Then, without any warning, a single tear traced its way down your cheek.

Your fingers loosened against the card as your gaze shifted toward the box beside you. You looked at it like it had changed, like the objects inside now meant something more than what they were.

"Michael…" you whispered.

You looked around the room, as if expecting someone to explain it to you. But no one came. And you didn’t know why.

You didn’t know why it hurt.

Or why it didn’t.

Not yet.

You stared back down at the card, unmoving.

It was hard to believe the same boy from your childhood, mud on his boots, reckless glint in his eye, always one bad decision ahead, was the one who wrote this. That’s what made it all the more difficult. That’s what turned your throat tight and your chest hollow.

Maybe that’s what made you feel like crying in the first place.

With a trembling breath, you folded the letter and stuffed it back into the box. You couldn’t deal with this right now. Not this. Not when the walls of your room suddenly felt too small, like they were closing in on you along with your thoughts.

You had no choice but to shove the box under your bed, out of sight. Maybe your father wouldn’t notice. Maybe you could pretend none of this ever happened, just long enough to breathe.

But the moment you stood up, your heart betrayed you.

No, you needed to see him.

Right now.

You didn’t care if it made sense. You didn’t care how badly he’d hurt you just days ago. All you knew was that if you didn’t see his face, hear his voice, something inside you might crack for good.

You bolted down the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet as you made for the door.

But your father’s voice caught you like a rope pulling back.

"Y/n, can I talk to you?"

You blinked. "Hm?"

He was standing near the parlor with a faint look of concern etched into his brow. One hand rested on the back of the armchair, his shoulders stiff like he hadn’t quite figured out how to ask what he needed to.

"Just for a moment," he said, his tone gentle. "It won’t take long."

You stood still, torn between two kinds of weight, your past waiting behind you and your future galloping out the door ahead.

You swallowed.

"...Sure. What’s going on?"

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[americaswritings]

Voices of Roses and Ruin | Part IV

Warnings: Violence, murder, Coriolanus being himself, his thoughts

Summary: Coriolanus is looking for you- but he is not the only one.

Words: 2k

Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: And we have reached the last part! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you like this miniseries. Also I finished the book and watched the movie again (and it was so freaking goood aaah)!!

If you have ideas for Coriolanus oneshots I would love to hear from you (or if you just feel like ranting about the movie, the world of Panem, the characters, Tom Blyth...lol)

There will be more Coriolanus Snow x reader COMING SOON!

Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here

Part I | Part II | Part III | Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist! (so you don't miss anything) :)

Coriolanus stared at the bird, watching as it opened its mouth and your paniced voice came out.

“Coriolanus! Tell me where you are!”

Behind him he heard movement, but he was too shellshocked to turn around. He didn‘t need to, he would have recognised that voice anywhere.

"The downfall of a Snow. If that isn‘t something I always wanted to-"

Before the commander could finish his sentence Coriolanus had turned and shot him in the head.

The loud noise startled the bird in its cage and it spread its wings, trying to lift in the air but failing in the closeted space. At least it was quiet now.

Good. If it would have made another sound, used your voice again, he would have wasted a bullet on it.

All of this had been a set-up. A test, to prove his loyality to the capitol. And he had failed. Spectacularly so.

He had chosen you. Your future. And in the same breath he had decided against his own.

Coriolanus was certain in no time more peacekeepers would show up. Perhaps he would know some of them. Maybe he even shared a room and his meals with them and he didn't want to kill him, if he could prevent it.

But if it came down to it, he wouldn't hesitate.

Even though he had never been in the arena, except the time when he had been sent to get Sejanus out, the capitol's games had turned him into a killer too. Or had that always been a part of him, one he had never known existed before?

A violent one, that didn't hesitate to do what needed to be done to save himself. It was scary, but to know his own power felt thrilling too. That if it came down to it he wouldn't just stand around and whine, but act and do what needed to be done, even if it involved getting his hands dirty.

It was true that a desperate man was a dangerous one, because what else did he have to lose? No, there was only you and he would do everything now to save the one thing he had left.

With one last dismissive glance at the dead commander Coriolanus turned and hurried through the corridors. He needed to find you.

Even if you weren't here and he was convinced they had used a recording of you from the arena, he wasn't naive enough to believe it meant you were safe. Unharmed.

What if the capitol had gotten to you?

Maybe you weren't in the district anymore.

Or worse, they had executed you at the hanging tree while they had ordered him here as a distraction.

Both thoughts scared him.

He needed a plan. He couldn't just walk around the district looking for you. Soon they would know what he had done and everyone in the district would be looking for his face.

Then he would end up at the hanging tree and die an undignified death.

But Coriolanus didn't have a better idea. He lacked ressources and power out here and with no ally in his corner he was left to his own.

Keeping his gaze straight ahead and his strides fast and purposeful, he immerged into the bustling streets of the district. He still had no idea where to find you and with each corner he rounded his hope to find you before the capitol did sank.

A turmoil at the market caught his attention and he hurried past the shops until the found a spot that allowed him a good view. A group of peacemakers pushed through the crowd of people, their faces grim and their weapons drawn.

They were searching, no, hunting. For him or for you Coriolanus didn't know.

He pressed himself against the wall when they neared him, lowering his head so they didn't get a glance of his face. "Hey!"

Damn it!

One of the men had noticed him and marched right towards him. Coriolanus was torn between waiting for what was about to happen and ending the man before he got the chance to out him to anyone, but he only had the gun and it would draw too much attention.

"We've got the order to look for the girl that won the games. Come on!"

Coriolanus let out a breath. The man didn't recongize him, not as her mentor and not as a traitor. Word about what he had done hadn't gotten around yet it seemed.

Or this was just another trap.

"What are we supposed to do when we find her?", he asked sternly as he followed the peacekeeper and joined the troop. It was dangerous, being so close to his enemies. If they turned on him now he would stand no chance against them. They outnumbered him.

But it was his best chance to keep an eye on them and it was not like he had a choice.

"For now arrest her. But I suppose she'll have a date with the hanging tree soon." The bastard laughed and Coriolanus wanted to punch him for it until the only sound coming out of his mouth were pleas for forgiveness.

He didn't bother to ask what crime they believed you were guilty of. It didn't matter and too many questions would raise suspicions.

So he followed them raiding the streets and asking shopkeepers and tradesmen about you, relieved about their lack of information regarding your whereabouts, but growing more uneasy with each.

Because with night beginning to set it became clear that they wouldn't stop their search until they had found you and with each minute that ticked by the chance of his actions staying undiscovered slimmed.

"We should seperate", he suggested after another unsuccessful house search. "We stick to the commander's order", the man next to him said and Coriolanus squinted at him in the darkness.

"When did he gave the order?", he asked warily and earned an impatient look. "At dinner time", he said with a shake of his head that openly questioned Corioanus' intelligence, who ignored it.

He was feeling dizzy and the world seemed strangely disorted as he grasped for composure. He had missed dinner time, because he had been ordered to speak to the commander. But if that hadn't been the commander, who had he killed?

"The hell", the man next to him whispered, pushing him roughly forward, "what's going on with you, man?!" Coriolanus had no time to answer.

There was a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest as control was slipping from his fingers and he felt himself spirraling.

"I got her!"

A loud voice pulled him from his trance and his head snapped into the direction it came from, all air leaving him when he saw you in the grip of a peacemaker.

He had locked his hand around your upper arm and was yanking you roughly towards them. "Thought she could hide", he roared with a laugh and the others joined in.

Coriolanus couldn't bring himself to join. Not even for show.

He was staring at your fearful face, the uncertainity behind your eyes mixing with defiance. "I don't know what you're accusing me of, but I didn't do anything", you stated and he noted with a hint of pride that your voice didn't waver.

That was his girl.

"Shut up or I'll make you!", the man growled and tightened his grip around you. Coriolanus could see the pain reflected on your face, but it gave way to shock and then disbelief as your gaze fell on him.

He couldn't do anything than stare at you, relieved to find you alive and unharmed after he had been witness to your desperate screams, but overwhelmed by his own powerlessness now.

Your eyes travelled his face and he saw a flicker of concern before it turned to an expression of betrayal and hurt.

He half expected an outlash, accusations or insults thrown his way, but you pressed your lips into a thin line, turning away your face. How easily you coud have hurt him now, but had chosen not to.

Interesting...

"Let's go!"

You were thrusted forward and he watched you stumble before you caught yourself again.

"I'll take her!" His own voice sounded far away and he was surprised that he had finally found it again. "We spend almost all night looking for her, I'll hande the rest."

The men exchanged glances. They were all tired, but bound by orders. Temptation fought hesitation and he prayed they would just let him have his way. He didn't want to kill them. It would be messy.

"Nice try, but I won't let you earn yourself all the praise."

With that they continued their way, but Coriolanus hadn't missed your attentive gaze on him. Maybe you finally understood the depths of his feelings.

That he would not let you walk to your own execution, even if all odds spoke against him. But what had he to loose?

Coriolanus waited until they passed another corner. It was late and the streets were empty, the people had gone to bed.

The poor electricty supply finally held an advantage, because there were no streetlamps to provide light and so not one of the other peacekepers noticed when he let his hand wander to his weapon, cautiously closing his fingers around it.

He had given them a chance, but they hadn't taken it.

The first two fell before the others had even noticed something was off. The shots were disturbingly loud in the quiet of the night and he knew he needed to act fast or he would be facing off against far more than just a troop of peacekeepers.

Would the men and women of the district be on his side? But what little could they do to help?

They stood no chance against their weapons, which could be fired more than a hundred times before they needed reloading.

It would be a bloodbath.

And he wasn't sure, if they wouldn't turn against him. In their eyes he was just a peacekeeper. It was all they would see when they looked at him.

As the other men turned he took out another one, but the man who held you in his grip swung you around, using your body as his shield before Coriolanus got the chance to aim his way.

"Lay down your weapon or I'll shoot her!", he yelled and raised his own weapon to press it against your temple.

You flinched, your eyes locked on Coriolanus. There was no fear in your eyes, only defeat and acceptance.

That only made it worse.

"The commander wants her alive. Now give her to me!", Coriolanus demanded, not even thinking about lowering his gun, but the man only narrowed his eyes in response.

"Traitor", he hissed, pressing your body closer to his, when your body suddenly went limp in his arms.

The moment the peacekeeper was distracted Coriolanus placed a bullet right between his eyebrows.

The shooting training had been useful at last.

Your eyes snapped open, confirming his assumption that you had faked the moment of weakness, and you staggered forward and away from the man who fell liveless to the ground.

Your gaze drifted over the dead peacekeepers and then to Coriolanus, shock and dread written all over your face.

"You killed them", you breathed, wavering once more. "You killed all of them."

Coriolanus stepped forward, his hands reaching out for yours. They were cold. Icy.

"I did what needed to be done", he said matter of factly, hiding his pride, because he knew you wouldn't appreicate it. But he had just taken out a number of well-trained men just by himself. Even you would have to admit it had been impressive.

In a shoot-out he wouldn't have stand a chance against them all, but they had underestimated him. Trusted him blindly. And they had paid for it.

You found his gaze, horror slowing fading into understanding. You nodded once, swallowing and straightening.

"I know", you whispered, "you saved my life."

All he wanted was to hold you and relish your skin on his. That he finally had you. That you were save. But there was no time for sentiment now.

"We need to leave."

You caught his gaze, your own questioning. "Where should we go? They will search the whole district for us and-", understanding crossed your face, "you mean you will run away with me?"

He took a breath and nodded. "It's the only choice."

You looked at him, your eyes searching for something he didn't know he could give you. But he could give you his love and devotion. It seemed enough for you, because you squeezed his hands and straightened your shoulders.

"Then it's my pleasure Coriolanus Snow."

"And it's mine."

You didn't let go of his hand as you turned and ran through the streets of the district and towards the line of trees.

Never would he have imagined this to be his fate as he had seen your face on the capitol's tv during the reaping. But he knew you would find a way, together.

Some day you might even tell your children about this. About a love that had ruined his life and rebuild it, stripped him bare and led him to his innermost, darkest parts.

And the birds lining the branches of the trees would be witness to it.

To your every word.

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