#and i want to consume all the existing content there is even though i know they're all drastically different

[osargis]

forgot that the new witch hat chapter is four days away... scared

[pinchofhoney]

broken promises, part three

« part one | part two | part three (the last one)

coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

warning: angst, we used to be close but people can go from people you know to people you don't, mention of helping in the rebellion

summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.

a/n: so,, this is the end of this little story of a heartbreak. thank you for sticking with it<33 for more coriolanus content, feel free to drop by my inbox where you can leave your ideas for the next oneshots!!

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @metalarmsandmanbuns @mavkaorlova @strangegril002 @thathoefromcollage

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

You'd be lying if you pretended not to be invested in the 10th Hunger Games. With Academy students participating this year, you had no choice but to follow the competition's every twist and turn, but even if it had been different, you'd have still tuned in from your home's television screen.

Despite the heated exchanges and angry words directed at Coriolanus, your best wishes were always with him. You genuinely hoped for nothing but the best for him, believing he'd achieve the deserved success he'd strived for and reach his craved scholarship, a gateway to boundless opportunities. In your heart, you rooted for Lucy Gray Baird's victory, as that seemed to be the only path leading to Coriolanus's dreams coming true.

Seeing Coriolanus each day in his perfectly fitted Academy uniform, hiding behind a facade of indifference that he never pull off around anyone outside his inner circle, playing the part of the model student, brought you pain. He gave off the impression that your past relationship had left no mark on him, leaving you in the dark about his true emotions and what was going on within his mind for the first time.

You were aware that everyone in your class had picked up on the shift between you and Coriolanus, though they tactfully avoided discussing it openly. You appreciated their silent understanding; no one was prying, and it allowed you to avoid discussing the painful change that had taken place. You didn't owe anyone an explanation, but it was easier to bear the weight of the situation when it remained unspoken. It stung to know that some girl from the District now held a more important place in your boyfriend's heart than you, someone he had known since childhood and shared the darkest moments of his life with.

The breakup with Coriolanus hit you like someone’s death. When you returned to the family penthouse, tears flowed endlessly from your eyes, and you couldn't seem to stop them. The persistent crying left you dehydrated, lying on your bed, cocooned in a blanket, your eyes red and swollen, and a pounding headache. The idea of consuming even a morsel of food felt impossible, and every inch of your room was a constant reminder of the moments you had shared with Coriolanus.

At times, you really wanted to approach him, to take the blame, to apologize for reacting hastily and to tell him that you should have let him handle things. But he treated you as if you were transparent. He had to feel your gaze on him, yet he chose to act as if you didn't exist, focusing all his attention on the Arena's broadcast screens, eagerly awaiting Lucy Gray's appearance.

As soon as the victory of the tribute from the Twelfth District became evident, you leaped to your feet, a genuine smile lighting up your face. Joining in the cheers and applause of your friends, you felt an urge to rush towards Coriolanus, but the memory of his distant gaze held you back. You knew you were no longer part of his happiness, no longer someone he wanted to share joy with.

With a lump in your throat, you discreetly cleared it, glancing around at other students. They seemed too absorbed in their own celebrations to notice your abrupt outburst. And so, you continued clapping, though the enthusiasm had waned, and the smile on your lips had dimmed.

You watched as Festus and a few other students hoisted Coriolanus onto a chair and paraded him around the podium and when they eventually placed him back on the ground, he turned his gaze toward you for the first time since your break up.

It was a brief look, lacking the joy in his eyes from seconds ago, but tinged with sense of satisfaction. It was a satisfaction born from the unexpected outcome, a result opposite to your wish for him to lose.

Afterward, all the students were directed into the dining hall to celebrate Coriolanus's victory with cake and posca.

And no longer after, the boy simply disappeared, slipping away from the festivities.

As the final echoes of the Games' noisy cheers faded away, an unsettling silence descended upon the Capitol, and your mind was left in a whirlwind of questions and concern. The explanation provided by the Academy for Coriolanus's sudden departure to one of the districts, where he was enlisting for as a Peacekeeper, seemed like an ill-fitting puzzle piece in his life.

You knew Coriolanus better than most, his ambitions, his dreams, his unrelenting pursuit of victory. This decision, so out of character, scratched at the corners of your consciousness like an itch you couldn't quite reach. The nagging sense that something was amiss and missing from the narrative was an ever-present companion, casting a shadow over your thoughts.

But the mystery didn't end with his sudden departure. The day following the Games' conclusion, it was as if someone had meticulously wiped away any trace of the event's existence. Records, footage, and even the very name Lucy Gray Baird were methodically excised from history's pages. The thoroughness of this situation left you in a state of bewildered disbelief. The memories and echoes of the Games, once so vivid, now seemed to have been cast into a gap of forgotten time.

Your mind was a whirlwind of questions, each one clamoring for answers, but you knew that the truth was hidden beyond your reach. In all of these Capitol secrets, you had no choice but to accept the narrative spun by Doctor Gaul and Dean Highbottom, even if it left you feeling like a mere puppet, dancing to their tune.

You just clung to the belief that Coriolanus was out there, safe, and somehow untouched by the Capitol's ominous machinations. You didn't know the real reason for his leaving, but thoughts of his comfort were your only solace.

You longed to see him again, not only because of the warmth of his presence, but also because of the secrets he could hold. Yet, deep down, you knew that even if he were to find his way back to the heart of Panem, you would likely be the last person on his list to seek out.

On a day that was just like any other, as the Capitol went about its business, you found yourself outside your penthouse. It was just another moment in your everyday routine, all you wanted was to go for a walk, enjoying the last few days before university starts, unaware of things that were about to happen.

You were lost in thought, just looking around the familiar place when suddenly, someone stepped into view and your heart stopped for what seemed like a split second. It was Coriolanus, no doubt about it, but he had changed more than you could have imagined. He used to have those distinctive curls, but now, his hair was much shorter. His whole presence felt more reserved. Even the way he carried himself seemed different from what you were used to. Something about his aura had shifted, and it was not the same energy you once knew, not even the one he usually projected to others. It was a subtle change, but it was there.

Upon realizing that he was heading towards your shared building, a mix of emotions surged within you. Surprise and happiness due to the sight of the person you had missed so intensely warred with the memories of his abrupt departure, and the months of estrangement.

As he drew closer, you couldn't help but hope for a friendly reunion. You wanted to forget the past and bridge the distance that had grown between the two of you, but the Coriolanus who now stood before you was colder, more distant than ever before.

His eyes, which once held warmth and familiarity when they met yours, now seemed to pass right through you, leaving you with an unsettling sense that the Coriolanus you once knew had changed into a stranger.

“Coryo?” you cautiously greeted him as he drew closer, employing the affectionate diminutive form of his name. “I didn't expect to meet you here.”

Your friendly approach fell upon a wall of silence, an awkward pause hanging heavily between you. The air seemed thick with unresolved tension, and you questioned whether you should have simply pretended not to notice him.

“Dean Highbottom mentioned that you departed for Twelve to join the Peacekeepers,” you continued, attempting to engage him in conversation. Your gaze remained intent on his, even as his bored expression showed little sign of interest. This was undoubtedly one of the most awkward moments of your life, and the hope of a warm reunion was fading with each passing second.

You couldn't help but inquire further, “Was it because of Lucy Gray?”

Upon the mention of the tribute girl's name, a subtle shift occurred in Coriolanus's demeanor. He raised his head slightly, his gaze narrowing and his jaw clenching. The unexpected reaction baffled you, and a crease of confusion formed between your brows as you tried to comprehend his change in demeanor.

“Lucy Gray is gone,” he stated, his words dripping with coldness and arrogance, once again underscoring the transformation in his character. The warmth and compassion that had once defined your interactions now felt like distant memories, leaving you in the stark shadow of your shared past.

“Gone?” you repeated. His statement was quite confusing, and you struggled to grasp its meaning.

Without offering any clarification, he continued his stride towards the building's entrance, as if your presence had become irrelevant to him. Desperate for answers that had slipped away form you for far too long, you reached out and gently grasped the sleeve of his shirt to stop him.

“Coryo, wait,” you begged, looking into his eyes for a flicker of the person you used to know. The frigid stare he returned sent a chill through your spine, but your curiosity pushed you forward. “What happened? After... well, after you disappeared.”

His gaze dipped to where your fingers held on to his shirt, and the tension between you grew palpable. When you finally let go, his eyes met yours once more, and he spoke in a voice that held a hint of gentleness. “Do you really want to know what happened?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. He maintained his distance, standing tall and appearing to gaze down at you.

You didn't particularly like this version of Coriolanus, but at the same time you couldn't back down now; you had yearned for this moment for months.

In response to his question, you offered a simple nod, a silent invitation for him to share. The silence hung between you, heavy and full of unspoken emotions. Coriolanus glanced around, checking for any unwelcome listeners nearby, before answering.

“I've been through a living hell,” he responded curtly, leaving a trail of unresolved questions lingering in the air, but before you could voice these unspoken thoughts, he continued.

“I was forced to follow relentless orders each day, enduring the scorching sun that left burns on my skin, and the agony of taking three lives,” he recounted, as if each experience weighed equally on his conscience. “And those damn songbirds... they're a nightmare. They can drive you to the brink of insanity.”

You sought answers in his eyes, searching for any glimmer of the person you had known, but what you found was far from the warmth and compassion you remembered. It was as if something within him had been replaced by a hint of disdain.

“She betrayed me,” he continued, his voice carrying the weight of bitter disappointment, before you had time to sort out the chaos in your head. “Just when I thought I could escape it all and start a new life without constantly looking over my shoulder, she chose to abandon me.”

“What do you mean, Coryo?” you questioned, your forehead creased with worry as you gazed into his eyes.

“I killed Sejanus Plinth,” he confessed. Your lips parted in shock, and without realizing it, you instinctively moved a step away, creating a physical gap between you and someone who had once been an open book. Now, it felt as though you knew nothing about him.

You had heard rumors of Sejanus Plinth's death, but the details were murky. The nature of Coriolanus and Sejanus's relationship had always been a subject of speculation, leaving people to wonder whether they were genuine friends or just collagues. Coriolanus had occasionally expressed his frustration with Sejanus to you, but you had never imagined he would go as far as to take such a drastic step.

Coriolanus seemed oblivious to your reaction, his words continuing in a torrent of frustration. “But he deserved it. He could have listened to me and followed the rules for once. Instead, he chose to be a rebel, wanting to play the savior of the districts. That's how rebels end up,” his words were like shards of ice, driven by a wrath you had never seen in him before.

“I killed people who threatened her. I killed those who could be dangerous to Lucy Gray,” Coriolanus murmured. You gazed into his empty eyes as he continued and a sense of dread creeped over you. “And in return, she betrayed me, willing to see me suffer the same fate as Sejanus,” he said with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't risk being caught when I was mere hours away from leaving this wretched district.”

Your world seemed to crumble under the weight of his shocking confession. The inhumanity of his actions left you speechless, but Coriolanus appeared unaffected by your stunned silence.

He took a step closer, diminishing the gap between you, and you fought the urge to move back or look away from his piercing eyes.

“I'll make them all pay for it,” he declared with a small, unsettling smirk tugging at his lips. There was something in that expression that scared you, and now you were sure the boy standing in front of you was not the Coriolanus you had grown up with. “Every last one of them,” he added, presumably referring to the district residents with disdain.

With those words hanging in the air, he turned and disappeared behind the door of the apartment building, leaving you in a state of confusion and fear.

Many times, as you lay in bed at night, you often found yourself imagining the chance to see Coriolanus again. You wished that somehow, things could go back to the way they used to be, and that the warmth you once shared might return. But, the version of the man you just had a chance to look in the eyes filled you with nothing but fear now.

He seemed colder than his very name.

64 YEARS LATER

The underground room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single overhead bulb casting elongated shadows on the faces gathered around the table. Maps, documents, and a tactical board cluttered the space, a visual representation of the Rebellion's intricate plans. The tension in the room was palpable, and when you walked in with a woman who bore a striking resemblance to a tiger in her appearance, the rebels shared uncertain, questioning looks.

Katniss, her unmistakable braided hair and fierce gaze, was the first to break the silence. Her voice cut through the tension like a blade, “Why are you doing this?”

Her eyes bore into yours with a mix of curiosity and concern, and you felt a dozen pairs of eyes in the room fixate on you. “Risking your life to help us take down Snow?”

You inhaled a quivering breath when the memories and thoughts weighing heavily upon your chest. In your mind, a series of images flashed – a time when Snow had been had been a very different person. You paused for a moment, your thoughts returning to the Coriolanus you had once been so familiar with. The recollection painted a vivid picture of Coryo as you remembered him: his charming smile, which he had once reserved solely for you, and his distinctive, curly hair.

“I'm doing this,” you began, your voice tinged with pain and longing, “because I used to know him very well.” You deliberately used the diminutive form of his name that had once been so familiar to you, “Coryo. We were close, once.”

The room fell silent, and a myriad of emotions passed over the faces of those assembled. Your words seemed to have caught them off guard, and you could sense their curiosity and concern.

“We were in a relationship, but he's not the person I once loved anymore. This Snow, the one we're fighting against now, is a monster. He's not the Coryo I knew. He deserves the worst.”

Peeta, who sat beside Katniss, let out a sigh, and his eyes held a profound understanding. His gaze, a clear blue in the dim light, softened as he looked at you.

“Sometimes people change,” Peeta said, his voice gentle. “I've seen it happen before.”

Katniss's expression hardened with resolve, her determination unwavering. “He's going to regret everything he has done in his life,” she said.

As Katniss's words hung in the air, you felt a wave of knotty emotions churning within you. Your gaze drifted downward to the shelter's dirt floor, where the tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to overflow. For years, you had yearned for justice to be served to Coriolanus, for him to face the consequences of his oppressive rule over Panem. It had been a sincere desire, one that had simmered in your heart, yet now, with the Rebellion's cause so close to success, you found yourself grappling with a bewildering conflict.

Coriolanus had long disregarded you, deeming you unworthy of his attention and companionship. He had tear your connection, but it didn't mean that you had forgotten the feelings you had once for him.

It was his treatment of those who still loved him, the suffering of his cousin Tigris, who had been a close friend of yours, that weighed on your heart. She had selflessly helped Coriolanus throughout the war, supported him during his first mentorship and long after, but his attitude toward her changed with each passing year, and you couldn't understand why.

Over the years, Coriolanus had allowed the Hunger Games to evolve into something even more grotesque and brutal, making even bigger spectacle out of the tributes' deaths. It had been a source of disgust, a reflection of his growing cruelty. You were repulsed by the Capitol, sickened by Snow's insatiable thirst for power and the desire to see him removed from his seat of authority had been a driving force.

Yet, something within you was blocking your resolve, sowing seeds of doubt and uncertainty. The conflict within your heart was a huge storm, with one part pulling you toward the rebellion and the other tethered to a past that still held the remains of the Coriolanus you had once known, loved, and miss.

But that boy from your youth was a distant memory, swallowed by the Coriolanus who had emerged over the years, especially during his time in the Twelfth District shortly after his victory in the Games.

You raised your eyes to meet Katniss's, and in that moment, your mind drifted to Lucy Gray Baird, an ironic twist of fate that wasn't lost on you.

As Katniss observed your internal struggle, her sharp instincts sensed that there was more to your hesitancy than met the eye. She furrowed her brows, her gaze unwavering, and asked, “Is there something else you would like to share?”

Peeta, who had been observing you quietly, echoed her concern with a compassionate look in his eyes. His gentle tone conveyed understanding as he said, “You can talk to us, you know. We've all had our reasons for joining this fight.”

Your throat felt constricted, and you struggled to find your voice amidst the chaos of emotions. With a hurried swallow and a deep breath to steady yourself, you cleared your throat and shook your head. You offered a smile, though it felt forced and inadequate for the gravity of the moment, as you moved closer to the table filled with scattered papers.

“So what’s the plan?” you asked, attempting to shift the focus away from you. Your eyes darted around the faces of those gathered around the tabletop, eager to immerse yourself in the cause, to be part of the solution to the crisis at hand.

[vilhelios]

—; DROWNED IN LIVING WATERS.

( your guiding hand pulls me under. ) ; there is no such thing as less, when it comes to rafayel: always more. at least when it comes to you, of course.

CW: fluff ; slightly suggestive content ; mentions of abysswalker!rafayel my beloved ; just lots of kissing bc rafayel is big and greedy!!!

no matter what it is, rafayel always wants more. more conch shells to crush to attain a singular gram of lustrous pink-white paint. more plates of seafood platters when you both go out to your favourite beachside restaurant. more time with you when you’re away from your rightful place by his side, wrapped up in nothing but the scent of seasalt and paint and each other’s arms.

“what happened to just one more…?” you pant, nails digging slightly into the bare skin of rafayel’s shoulders—they’ll be his battle scars for the night, red crescent moons borne of greed. one kiss had turned to two, and two to three, and—well, now the two of you are breathless, bodies flushed warm and lips kiss-bitten on his couch. your eyes zero in on his, and you drink in the sight of his darkened eyes—the blue depths you want to be baptised in, the red desire that will burn your very soul. everything fades away; the sound of the waves breaking upon the shore, the seagulls cawing, the moonlight filtering in through his grand, arching windows. there is only him.

( lord, there is no saving you now—only in him will you find salvation ever again. )

“you know it’s never just one.” rafayel chuckles, the soft breath of it fanning across your skin as he presses his forehead against yours. he looks beautiful, ruined like this—lips a darker red from how you bit at them, his cheeks and the tips of his ears painted the prettiest shade of red, his bathrobe almost slipping off his shoulders. rafayel’s hand falls from where it was at the back of your head, down to cup your cheek. his thumb gently brushes against your lower lip, as he murmurs, with a growing smile, “i need more, cutie. always more—” 

he doesn’t even let that final word hang in the air before he presses his lips to yours once more, melding together in a sweet desperation. 

more, more, more. more of your touch, more of your lips on his, more of your very presence. how could he ever want any less than all of you after going an eternity without? he won’t deny it—he’s a selfish, greedy man, and the only thing he ever wants to hoard is you. rafayel’s kisses, often, are sweet and chaste—like the softest flutter of a butterfly’s wings that have you chasing after more. and yet, there are times like this, where he seems intent on consuming you, a hunger unrivalled as his lips move skillfully against yours. it’s as though if he had anything less than all of you it would be his undoing. 

( the thing about stray dogs, you suppose, is that they will hoard the food and affection they are given. after all, who knows how long until it is ripped away from their maws again? he can’t survive another hundred years without you, with nothing but memories of those no-longer-lonely nights in lemuria, and desperate visions of what could have been. it would be too cruel an existence for a starving, stray dog. )

when you pull away (and even then, he chases after your lips), you feel absolutely winded. your hands clutch uselessly at the dark satin of his bathrobe to ground yourself. even as you try to steady your breathing, your senses are assailed by his very being—every gulp of air is laced with the scent of seasalt, citrus, and sandalwood. he occupies your every thought, now. (maybe it has always been that way, since a time long lost.)

“i thought you said… you were hungry…” you manage between shaky breaths. right, right; you two wanted to get dinner and then spend the rest of the night lounging around, but well, that was an hour ago. the sun was setting when rafayel first pulled you onto his lap and pressed the smallest of kisses to every inch of skin he could reach… but it’s dark now, and those kisses have long since devolved to blooming hickeys when he shifts his focus away from your lips…

“nuh-uh. not anymore.” he quickly quips back and, almost like he was afraid you’d try to slip away from his hold, pulls you closer with the arm he has around your waist. if you were close before, then you melted into one entity now, with his chest flush against yours. you think your racing heartbeats are beating in sync, beneath the flimsy material of your nightgown and his bathrobe. 

a desperate whine leaves him as he tries to chase after your lips, only managing to press a peck to the corner of them. (that’s not enough, never enough—) “don’t wanna eat. just want you, please–” and again, he somehow manages to pull you closer, close enough to get what he wants once more. and of course, you happily relent, melting against him as he kisses you again, and again, and again.

...

( and somewhere, in the far off future, amongst the golden sands, nothing has changed. ra’el is foolish to think he ever would. no, he is still weak to those lips that first kissed his aeons ago. what was first an act borne of your desperation and will to live against the drowning waters turned into the fuel to his hunger and a basic, primal need.  

“i’m not leaving you yet, your highness.” he murmurs, and it feels something like a promise as he presses a gentler peck to your cheek. it does take all his restraint to give you some respite from his barrage of kisses, however, as he watches you heave for breath. his eyes can’t help but dart all over, as he feels you clutch at the leather of his garb, but they always return to your kiss-bitten lips and hazy eyes.

he smiles, a cheeky thing, a practised swipe of his thumb against your bottom lip. “surely your highness would not call me with the fishtail beacon just for a bedtime story, hm?” 

and the hungry, stray dog, found once more by its rightful owner, begins to hoard its meal. )

a/n: inspired by horny posting with my pookie wookies on lndtwt 🫶💕 ty lisa my beloved for this mental image that you've conjured. also, i guess this is the fic to celebrate getting lvl 100 affection with rafayel!

creative notes: rafayel is very much so a dog-like character to me and less cat-like; especially abysswalker! i heard somewhere that stray animals will hoard food and ask for food more (and if you feed a stray animal on the road it will follow you) and rafayel himself does compare himself to a stray animal/animal in need of help in nightly stroll, i think? so uh. that's why i have a lot of dog-like comparisons for him 🫡💕

[saerins]

the people are gonna start asking for a bonus chapter of sae getting off to yn 😭 (i will eat that shit up)

extra chapter: guilty pleasure

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — part of priceless. for the first time, sae’s clueless on how to get rid of his frustrations of not having you. guess he’ll just have to jerk off to the thought of you.

content: smut. masturbation. sae jerks off to his thoughts of you; mentions of penetration, blowjobs. word count: 1.3k

༝༚༝༚ here you are !!! just a short piece though sobs i was in a whole mood so have this sneak peek into down bad sae :’) <3

are you trying to kill him?

sae thinks you must be, because seeing you wearing nothing but his jersey, walking out of the bathroom with your hair wet, towel slung lazily over your shoulder; it makes his eyes wander. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t fight his exhaustion to stay up just because he’s curious what you’d look like in his jersey.

now that he knows? he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep well at all.

you’re having a conversation with him, even though the majority of his mind is elsewhere. maybe it’s just the consequence of letting all of this tension build up. you were tempting enough the night you all got together to drink. he held himself back back then, but now, with your lips so close to his, can he really avoid it this time?

he’s not sure what smart thing came out of your mouth this time. all he knows is that you’re so close now, just inches away from his face, and you smell so nice and all he can think of is what it’d be like if he lets you consume him.

“is that what you want?” he hopes he’s saying the right thing. he hopes you’re not going to run away like you always do.

to his surprise, you answer him directly this time, much like in otoya’s room, when you were half intoxicated and more honest than you’ve ever been with him. this time you’re purposely telling him, “i already told you what i want.”

you did. sae already rejected it once—because you were tipsy and almost out of it and he didn’t want you to forget about it the very next day—and now he can’t hold himself back anymore.

sae throws all his usual reservations out the window, leaning forward to kiss you, ashamed of the thoughts running through his head right now. he’s not so ashamed after he feels the way you kiss him back, how it feels so urgent like you’d really been yearning to kiss him and weren’t just all talk.

it’s not like he’s thought of this situation before this. he didn’t plan to kiss you right now, but seeing you wear his things like you belong to him makes him feel a certain way.

before he knows it, his hands are moving down from your hips to the back of your thighs, carrying you onto the countertop, his body comfortably nestled between your thighs, his lips savouring every single taste of you.

the little sounds you make as he takes your breath away—he’s never known they existed before and now within a mere few seconds it feels like they’re his favourite sounds in the entire universe. and by the time he feels satisfied enough to pull back from you, it feels like you have him in a trance, have him hooked around your little finger and every fibre of your being, enough so that he’s telling you he’s been wanting to kiss you too before he even realises it.

but you pull away too soon, like always, and leave him with that flirty remark, making his thoughts go crazy. it almost feels like he’s opened pandora’s box; before tonight, he had no trouble shrugging the thoughts of you away.

not anymore. not after spending more time with you and craving even more of you.

that’s why he ends up sitting up on his bed, head resting against the headboard, his fingers wrapped around his dick as he thinks of how fucking good you must sound if only you’d let him do more. you were already whimpering so seductively from the kiss—and fuck now sae wonders what your moans sound like.

he pumps his dick faster, mind wandering through endless images of what you can possibly look like underneath all that fabric. he spreads his precum around the head with his thumb, imagining your tongue in its place, imagining you on your knees, taking him in your mouth. warm, wet, perfect.

“fuck, y/n,” he can’t help but murmur under his breath, eyes shut as his hips jerk up into his hand, twitching from thinking how good your throat would feel around his cock.

you’d probably kill him if you knew of all the things he’s imagining he’d do to you.

his grip around his cock tightens as he starts to think of what you’d look like on top of him, naked with your breasts bouncing as he fucks up into you—you’d probably sound so sinful moaning his name.

fuck, he wants to hear you moan his name. is that too tall an order when he only just got you to call him by his name tonight?

sae bites on his lower lip, mouth falling open as he thinks of how hot you’d look riding him, of how your whimpers would sound impossibly saccharine as he takes your breast in his mouth, licking and nibbing on your nipple.

“shit,” he curses under his breath, grip getting tighter, moving his hand in tandem to the rhythm of you in his imagination as you bounce on top of him.

he really shouldn’t be thinking of you like this, not when he invited you over with no intentions and now he’s about to cum just thinking of you. you’re filling his mind; it flickers from thoughts of what it would feel like to have your tongue around his cock—licking the vein that runs up his length, what your cute face would look like as you suck him off—to how warm your pussy would feel around him, how it would throb as he thrusts into you, what you’d scream when you’re close. sae’s thoughts deviate to you, your face, your voice, your pussy—he bets it looks perfect, bet it’d look so much better if he makes it wet.

would you let him?

“fuck, y/n, fuck fuck fuck,” he mutters, voice thick with arousal, making sure to keep it down in case you hear him, even if all he can think about is what sweet sounds your pussy would make if he fucks you silly.

you’re in his head, your whimpers getting louder and your pussy all wet and clenching around him and he can’t fucking take it anymore, his hip thrusting up one last time before he’s cumming, white painting his stomach instead of your insides, the substance spreading and lining the dips from his abs.

sae’s heart is pounding in his chest and he’s sure it’s partly because of his fantasies but he’s screwed anyway, already in deeper than he initially thought. especially when he starts to think of what it’d feel like to just properly fall asleep next to you, both of you in the same bed instead of him being relegated to the floor. it makes him feel envious of otoya for a split second, because he’s sure he knows what that feels like.

he stares at himself in the mirror of his bathroom later after washing up, cold water splashed onto his face because he needs to think clearly. but everything he’s considering in his head only points in one direction: he wants you, in every single way.

sae sighs, head tilted up as he thinks of all the ways you could possibly reject him—maybe now he sees why all those girls reacted that way when he did the same to them. he’s pretty sure they weren’t serious about him though, because they barely knew him or spoke to him. but he’s let you in so much more than usual, and so much faster than he did bianca.

you’re special. 

you’re special, and he wants to try.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

on my knees begging and sobbing for more freminet content

maybe afab!freminet x vampire!reader ??? owo

Freminet x vampire reader

Author's Note: As usual, Freminet is 20+ — Woohoo more vampire HCs!! I hope you enjoy these, dear anon :D

Pairings: Freminet x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, vampire!reader, sub/bottom!Freminet, trans Freminet, consuming blood, biting, hair pulling, eating out, fluff

Oh this little cutie...he's so so shy and timid, you truly want to eat him up

Vampires are predators, and the way that Freminet instinctually tried to escape when your sharp fangs went to pierce his skin for the first time set your own instincts in motion

Whenever you both felt a bit more playful he would take advantage of these instincts:

“Run all you like, little one. We both know who's faster~” You purred dangerously, stalking after your beloved as he turned the corner in your large abode. Running down yet another hallway with his heart pounding in his eardrums from the excitement of this little game you both liked to play. The familiar clicking of your footsteps on the wooden floors pulled his full attention behind him, though the human had no time to react as a strong hand reached out and yanked his frail body backwards by his hair

“See? I told you running was useless. What will you do now, darling?” Freminet always found your voice extra sexy when you hunted and inevitably caught him, whimpering as your breath fanned against his sensitive ears

The human grasped at your arm, begging for you to claim what was rightfully yours. “Ah! N-no please...I'm sorry...I'll let you bite me, I-I promise I'll b-be good now...” Freminet stammered, pressing back against your chest

While the young blond was fearful when you first met, he soon grew to adore you just as much as you adored him

The way you treat him gently and kindly, helping him during conversations when his social anxiety acts up, sends his heart aflutter

Freminet viewed himself as weak and even useless sometimes, but you knew that those things weren't true. You helped him speak of himself a bit more kindly, praising his efforts and ingraining positivity into his pretty little head whenever possible

The human was especially insecure about what existed in between his legs, or rather...what didn't

But, as usual, you couldn't have that. What kind of lover would you be if you let your darling think of himself so poorly?

“Oooohh~ Oh y/n... d-don't tease me like– Ah!” Freminet gasped as your lips connected with the fragile skin on his thigh again. Another bruise blooming on the surface from your harsh sucking

“Sorry, baby. I can't help it, I just love your thighs so much~” You whispered against his skin, trailing feather-soft kisses upwards until you reached the area around his entrance, giving his cunt a few kitten licks while he mewled in embarrassment

Freminet bucked into your mouth as you began licking and sucking on his sensitive pussy, lapping up the slick dripping out the longer you teased him. Using your thumb and forefinger to spread his lips apart, your tongue dipped fully inside of your lover's heat, penetrating him as a moan escaped your lips. It was a well known fact that human blood tasted delicious, or else your kind wouldn't so eagerly feed from them, but who knew that a human's other fluids could taste this good too?

“Mmm~ Angel, you are so amazing. You know that?” The compliment caught Freminet by surprise, earning a squeak of embarrassment in return while he turned his head to the side as an attempt to hide the growing blush on his freckled cheeks. The reaction caused you to chuckle, swiftly returning to devouring the adorable man's pussy, using your fingers to pinch and rub at the puffy clit just above his entrance. Your tongue continued exploring the wet hole long after Freminet had cum, graciously tasting every drop that he provided for you, even as painfully pleasant overstimulation kicked in

Human blood is similar to any food or drink that they would consume; everyone has their own distinct flavor profile, even amongst the same blood type

Freminet's blood is crisp, refreshing, and slightly cooler than most humans' tend to be (perhaps due to his cryo affinity?)

Though he is a more timid individual, he oh so enjoys your feeding sessions. Sometimes he even begs you to bite down or suck harder, clawing at your back and leaving angry red scratches on your skin

The aphrodisiac that vampires inject with their bite turns Freminet into the most adorable whimpering mess, begging to take your cock as if he needs it to survive

And you happily give into his desires~

If Freminet begs you to pound him against the wall or bend him over something, you do just that

If Freminet begs you to fill his cunt with cum until it's gushing out around your dick, you do just that

If Freminet begs you to pull his hair, slap him, spank him, or spit on/in him, you do just that

Your human is just too precious. You're always trying to indulge in his kinky requests, eager to be a good master for the boy

Especially because, after it's all over, you're the one who gets to soothe him. Singing his praises while you caress his darling little body, kissing him breathless while his pretty blue eyes flutter closed, falling into a content deep sleep

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

[olderthannetfic]

I have really mixed feelings about the small proportion of F/F fiction (original or fanfic), because yeah sure, people have their desires, they should write what they want, I get it. It all works out when I hear it from person to person. But somehow the logic only ever applies in one direction? "There are more male protagonists because men only care about male characters! Women also mostly care about male characters, because that's the majority of characters they get!" And then somehow we also yet kvetch when men write female characters (because it's incorrectly or something, nevermind if women are writing male characters correctly). Why don't we expect gay men to feel compelled only by femslash for the same reasons (but gender swapped) as the lesbian slashers/fujoshi? All of those very rational justifications are applied selectively, "for me for not for thee," and it all only leads to "idk I just don't wanna write femslash", for Reasons. Do we get to call them microaggressions yet?

--

No, you don't get to call other people's fantasy life a microaggression.

That is indeed "for me but not for thee" in the sense that you get to want what you want but other people aren't supposed to follow their id.

Do you also police gay men who spend too much time on drag and obsessing over female divas? That's an actual real world behavior that's somewhat equivalent. It frequently goes unchallenged, at least by progressives, because men are allowed to do whatever they want with chick stuff, while women are "stealing" if they dare to stray into dude stuff.

(God, I've seen so much more policing of drag kings being ~problematic~ for acting out stereotypical gender than policing of drag queens for the same. It's nuts!)

Fujoshi are often queer, but it's absurd to think we're mostly lesbians. We tend to be bi or asexual women with gender stuff going on, though there is a mix of everybody, including lesbians. There are also a lot of AFAB non-women who get lumped in with us. On the rare occasions I find a man willing to admit to being a similar demographic, he usually does like gender play in his hobbies and entertainment. It's just that men face even more pressure than women do to fit into tidy categories. Bi women get told we're whores. Bi men are told they don't exist.

Yes, I know plenty of lesbians who write more m/m than f/f, but in the big picture of all of AO3 or all of fanfic or all of media, they aren't the demographic driving these numbers. They're vastly outnumbered by the bi women, the asexual women, and the straight and gnc women.

The men we should be looking at as an equivalent aren't cis gay men but bicurious soy boys and the like.

Do most of us fujoshi object to equivalent men doing an equivalent thing? I've seen it sometimes, and I agree it's hypocritical. I'd like us to afford men the same ability to play and take on identities in their art. I remember enjoying Ranma fandom back in the day and reading quite a lot of f/f that was probably by men. It had some of that same sense of distance and fantasy that I so enjoy in m/m aimed at fujoshi. (I do consume some by-cis-gay, for-cis-gay content, both m/m and f/f, but it's often too literal and too bound up in specific named identities for my taste.)

On average, the people I see complaining most about men producing f/f material are the same people who think that because I have a clit, I should center my life around women exclusively. In other words, people spouting radfem ideology, perhaps on purpose or perhaps without realizing.

I do agree that some of the ways of expressing a lack of desire to write femslash can get pretty douchey. I want us to move away from some of the less accurate ones like "There are no compelling female characters" because of this.

But the reason for all these jerkass explanations is that women and people perceived as women who like m/m are constantly asked to explain ourselves. These aren't usually microaggressions: they're openly hostile. People get defensive and try to answer with important-sounding reasons about identity and pain because society at large won't accept "I like this" as the true explanation.

Pleasure is never enough of a reason for a woman to do something.

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part four

authors note: the love and response to this story continues to absolutely floor me. you guys are all so sweet! i was nervous about posting, but everyone has made me feel so happy that i did, so thank you!

couple of hints about things sprinkled through this one. the more i write, the more things are getting fleshed out, so idk how many parts this will be atp, nothing too crazy though!!!

also, some tags don't seem to work for some reason, like when i type it, the hyperlink doesn't appear so super sorry to those impacted by that!!!

warnings: angst, fluff, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

word count: 5.8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion @shayaaaaaaa @usoholic @brokenglassslippers @gators-aid @dersha89 @southerngirl41 @empressdede

You couldn't eat. 

Couldn't sleep.

Could barely think straight.

All that consumed you, ate at you, gnawed at your sanity was one thought and one thought alone.

He wanted to take her from you. 

Joe wanted to take your daughter from you, your four year old daughter who still couldn't even go to sleep at night unless she got to see or speak to you.

The daughter who he'd only known existed just recently but was seemingly set on ripping away from you.

That thought destroyed you, made you raw from blistering agony at just the idea of not having Callie with you full time. It destroyed you to the point that you decided to throw some clothes on, hop in your car, and set your google maps for the hotel you knew he’d be staying at. Damn the fact that it was the middle of the night or that you were stupid as hell for being in that situation in the first place. None of that mattered. 

You needed to talk to him, and you needed to talk to him now. 

Joe opens the door with a forceful swing, looking as irritated and disheveled as you’d expect one to look at nearly 1am in the morning. However, when his eyes land on you, confusion meshes with irritation. “Y/N?”

“Hi.” It’s said in a breathy tone. You're struggling to remember the script you rehearsed the whole drive there. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late—”

“What the..….” He sighs heavily and steps aside, motioning for you to come in. “Get in here.”

You don’t need to be told twice, looking around the hotel room that looks so plain and undeserving of someone with Joe’s stature. But, you also know this area isn’t exactly saturated with 5 star hotels, far from it. This is probably the most elite one he could find with such short notice, and it’s not bad at all, just….basic.

He clears his throat, and you return your attention to the man who you just realized is also shirtless. If not for the pending mental breakdown you’re fighting to keep at bay, it would be extremely distracting. Joe is a lot of things, and fine as hell is at the top of that list.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He sounds exhausted, and you can’t tell if it’s from the argument earlier that day or being woken up in the middle of the night. Probably both. 

“I just—I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” 

Nodding, you continue. “I know….I know I messed up, okay? I should have told you, but I just—I need you to look at it from my perspective. I need you to just hear me out, and if—if you still feel the same way, then–then I’ll have to deal with that….but please.” 

He’s leaning back against the dresser, arms crossed, taking time to answer as he weighs your offer. Finally, he concedes, “you came all the way over here. I’m not just gonna send you away.”

You’re thankful for him being willing to at least hear some of what you have to say. “Callie.....she was conceived the last time we were together.” Not sure if that part was necessary or the best way to start out, you quickly move on to the next point. “I didn’t find out I was pregnant until two months later. And on top of not knowing what the fuck to feel, I barely knew what to do. I was pregnant by a married man that I’d been sleeping with for three years. A married, famous man at that. Who I finally decided I needed to move on from.” 

Revisiting this is harder than you expected, harder than when you rehearsed it on your drive here. “I was scared, Joe, okay? I was scared, so I—I did what I thought was best at that time, and clearly it was wrong. I 100% own up to that, and you get to be angry with me, but you don’t get to let that anger influence your decision making, because it is.” 

This is the part you debated so deeply on whether to say or not say, to potentially poke the already irate bear. But, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t speak up for yourself and your daughter. “You want a legal custody arrangement, and I understand why, but—Joe, your name isn’t even on her birth certificate, but to tell you the truth…..I wanted it to be. I did.” Whether he believes you or not is on him, but it’s true. Because while he wasn't present in her life, he was still her father. Nothing would change that. “They wouldn’t do it without you present and without a paternity test—”

“I could have been there,” he interrupts, sounding more hurt than anything. “I should have been there.” 

“You’re right, but you weren’t, and I’m sorry for that too. I’m not trying to make any excuses here, just lay out facts. And the fact is that you can get a paternity test, you can establish paternity, and you can try to secure joint custody, but we both know there’s no way you can take her on. You work nonstop, Joe, and she can’t be on the road like that. She’s four for fucks sake. Calista needs stability, and she has that with me. You know I’m right.”

And you can see that he sees you’re right, the wheels turning in his head as he takes in your sound predictions.

“And I know you don’t right now, and that’s okay, but I am asking you to please trust me enough to know that I will not get in the way of you getting to know Calista. Trust that I only want what’s best for her, I’ve only ever wanted what was best for her.”

“Why should I?” Despite his words, you can see and hear the crumbling of his defenses, of the brick and mortar wall he'd erected earlier during the first round of this conversation. “What’s different now?”

“Because she asked about you.” This is the part that crushes you the most, that makes you wonder if you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself for even putting her in that situation. “Because she thinks you’re not in her life because she’s not a good girl, and I will not have my child grow up thinking she wasn’t good enough for her father to want to be in her life.”

You won’t let her grow up like you.

Period.

Having this discussion, saying these things aloud, you’re slowly starting to recognize how some of your own unaddressed issues have contributed to this situation. How your refusal to confront buried trauma has bled into another generation. It’s…..uncomfortable, to say the least.

And something you definitely need to revisit, probably sooner rather than later. Just…not right now. 

You’ve got to sort this through first.

It’s after a few minutes of silence that he finally speaks, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re right.” You let out a deep breath, nearly falling back at his words. You knew he was wavering but not to the point where he would yield. “I know….I know our situation is complicated, and I’m sorry for being so cold with you. I just—fuck, I don’t know how to process all of this.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Neither do I, but we can figure it out, because we can’t…..we can’t put her through a custody battle. I won’t do that.” Despite your very valid facts, you also recognize that while he probably wouldn’t win, he has access to the best legal team money can buy and would outlast you in court by miles. 

You won’t say it aloud, not even sure if you can, but you’d soon rather concede than put her through that. You’d give him whatever he asked for if it meant sparing her from that trauma. 

It’s a far cry from your stance hours earlier, but time and actually thinking things through made you realize the pain you’d experience at having Callie taken from you would be nothing compared to what that experience would do to her. You know custody disputes can be long and nasty, and though she was still young, you didn’t want to find out if they would question her. 

You’d sacrifice your soul and surrender. 

You loved her enough to let her go.

“You’re right.” He repeats himself, even and calm. It’s such a stark difference for both of you compared to the blowup from earlier. There’s actual communication occurring, talking with each other, instead of at each other. Listening to hear, not to react. “I—I couldn’t do that to you. I spoke out of anger. My schedule is crazy and she needs stability. You give her that.”

There’s an insurmountable amount of relief that washes over you at his words. It’s night and day from the angry—though rightfully—man that stood before you earlier today. And you couldn’t be more grateful. 

“Thank you.” There aren’t enough words to adequately express the depth of your gratitude. Joe is well within his right to be upset, and like you said, you’ll take whatever that is, so long as the both of you can agree that Callie being with you is for the best. For her, but for you too. You won’t deny that. Your daughter is your life, and the thought of being without her, even for a period of time makes you sick to your stomach. “I–” You wipe your eyes, completely unaware that you’d been crying at one point, the tears starting to dry up. “I’m taking off work tomorrow and keeping her home. You…you can come over once I pick her up from Mariah's."

His eyes light up with appreciation that matches your own for his willingness to look past his feelings to do what’s best for your child. “Yeah?”

You offer a small smile. “I’ll probably get her around 10 and text you when you can head over.”

He nods, and the excitement in his expression warms you. It’s so strange how you can go through so many emotions in such a short time regarding the man in front of you. He always has been able to evoke things out of you that no one else could.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

The way he takes you in, assessing you, it makes you shift your weight from one foot to another. Your hoodie suddenly feels too heavy, warmth climbing up to your cheeks. “I—” You gesture to the door with your thumb. “I should head out.” 

It’s when you turn to leave that he grabs your wrist to stop you. 

“Where are you going?”

Your brow lifts at his tone and words, confused by the quick change and his hand on your arm. “Umm, home?” 

“Like hell you are.” His dismissal is firm and final as he informs, “you'll crash here tonight.” Your face must be painted in defiance, because he explains, “it's almost 2 in the morning, and you look exhausted. I'm not letting you get on the road. Anything could happen.”

“Joe—”

He lifts his hand, silencing you as he points to the middle of the room. “You can take the bed. It's uncomfortable anyway.”

Ironically, a small yawn escapes, further proving his point. You are exhausted, in several different ways. The idea of driving back home right now is not nearly as appealing as sleeping off the day's events. “Okay.” Remembering his comment, you add, “you could have picked one of those fancy hotels ya'll stay in, you know.”

“I don't think there's anything ‘fancy’ within 30 miles of here.” He's not entirely wrong, the town's local steakhouse is considered the definition of fine dining and hotspot for special occasions. 

“There were once rumors of a Hilton being built.”

He looks almost hopeful. “When was that?”

You bite down on your lip. “When I was in middle school.” A small laugh escapes at his look of exasperation. 

“You should take the bed. It's gotta be more comfortable than the alternative.” Truly, because the idea of Joe's big ass trying to sleep on a damn fold out sofa is both hilarious and tragic. “I just need a shirt.”

He looks at you. “A shirt?”

“Yeah.”

“Because…..”

Rolling your eyes, you tug at your old college hoodie. “I can't sleep in this. It's uncomfortable as hell. I dress light at night. You know—” And you stop yourself, because he shouldn’t remember that you always sleep in either a big shirt or thin top and shorts, never more, oftentimes nothing at all when he was in town.

For obvious reasons.

You’re grateful when he turns away and digs through his bag, probably the only one he took with him. He always traveled lightly. He comes back, reaching you one of his black t-shirts. 

“Thanks.” Accepting the item, you walk over to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Standing in the mirror, you take in your appearance. Joe was being nice by saying you look exhausted, cause you look like shit, every bit of the days events, loud and blaring. Blowing out a breath, you start removing your clothes but pause when you go to remove your bra.

Is that….is that too much? You haven’t slept in a bra in years. Not since puberty randomly hit you over the summer between freshman and sophomore year, where you went from a modest A cup to a whopping D. And post Callie body definitely wasn’t a D anymore. It just seems….it seems indecorous. 

Deciding to go with safe instead of sorry, you swallow your discomfort and keep your bra on. With the hair tie on your wrist, you do your best to pineapple your hair, knowing good and well it’ll be frizzfest when you wake up but not really caring. 

Another yawn leaves your mouth as you walk out the bathroom only to turn into a scowl as you find Joe sitting on the sofa on his phone.

If it wasn’t so late and you weren’t so tired, you’d argue with him why it’s stupid of you to take the bed. He’s at least a foot taller than you. But, you don’t have it in you so just mutter “stubborn asshole,” place your folded clothes on the dresser, and climb into the bed. 

You double check your alarm is still set for the right time and lean across the bed to place it on the nightstand. There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you for a couple of minutes, your eyes closing as you try to sleep, even if for a couple of hours before you have to get back on the road. 

“What is she like?”

Your eyes open at his question, unexpected but understood. You think about it, wondering how to answer, how to explain all of the wonderful things that is your child. Finally, you settle on an answer, soft and honest. 

“You'll find out for yourself tomorrow.” And turning on your side, you murmur, “goodnight, Joe.”

He doesn’t say anything after that.

But while you sleep with the hope of believing that this can be worked out between the two of you, Joe lies awake, taking his turn with mind running a mile a minute.

He knew this would be difficult, knew it was going to get ugly to some extent, but what he didn’t expect was how impacted he'd be by seeing you again.

There was a stark difference between seeing you in photos and seeing you in person. His anger at the situation helped him to not react as strongly, but not as much as he liked or needed it to.

Because regardless of all his outrage, he’d missed you.

Even with your deception, with your deceit and all of his confusing emotions toward you in this whole situation, he missed you. 

Joe might not be ready to admit it aloud, but he’s never gotten over you. And not for lack of trying. He’d had a period where he tried to fuck away his feelings, tried to busy himself in between the legs of other women, his favorite distraction when he was in his twenties. Tried to remind himself that it was never meant to turn into anything anyway, that it wasn’t a big deal. But his efforts were fruitless and a waste of time.

He cared about you, he cared about you, arguably, more than he’d ever cared about a woman. Even….even Jadah.

The night you ended things was still a sore spot for him, still something he plays over in his head trying to make sense of. On the surface level, it’s pretty plain and simple. You wanted more, he couldn’t give it to you, so you moved on. 1+1. He was legally married for fucks sake. He couldn’t blame you for wanting more, but there was also a part of him that wondered why you didn’t just ask him for more.

Then again, that went both ways. Why didn’t he ask you for more?

It’s easy to say it was because of Jadah, because of his marriage, and that was both true and untrue. On his part, anyway. Divorce was easy in name but far from it in every other area. And for him, meant being forced to confront demons he tried his best to keep at bay. Up until two months ago, at least

Joe closes his eyes. This is all too much. 

He came here ready to confront you, and he had, in fucked up way, even if partially deserved. He came here to meet his daughter, to begin to form a bond with her, and he will do that. He just has to push the complicated feelings for you to the side and place them on the backburner until he can sort through that mess.

Calista is his priority right now. Whatever this is between you and him can be figured out later.

Hopefully. 

________

“She can be shy until she gets to know you.”

The day seems to have escaped you, getting on the road early in the morning to drive back and prepare to pick up Callie. She’s thrilled to see you, and vice versa. The two of you spend the beginning of the morning together, stopping at a local diner to share a breakfast before heading back to your apartment. You spend a little more time together, one on one, before texting Joe to head over, staying true to your word. 

Especially since he informed you that he had to fly out tomorrow morning. You expected as such, knowing he’d probably already been gone longer than higher ups liked. He could only push the limits so much. 

You don’t even have to be looking at him to know he’s nervous, an understandable but strange thing. Weird almost. Joe’s a lot of things, but nervous has never been one of them. “But once she gets comfortable, she won’t shut up.” That makes him smile, and you’re grateful for that.  Sure enough, you find Callie in her playroom, which used to be your office space, but the more spoiled she became from your mom, the more you realized her room was too small for all of her stuff. “Hey, Callie Bear.”

Callie looks up, smile bright as she runs over to you. You lean down to meet her hug. She gives the best, loving hugs. “I’m making you something, mommy.”

You gasp. “You are? Well, I can’t wait to see it.”

“It’s a surprise, so no peeking!” She lifts her little finger, wagging it in your face. Laughing, you nod and push back some of her curls. Callie’s eyes then land on Joe’s massive frame standing near the doorway, silently observing. You can see the emotions so clearly on his face: surprise, shock, happiness.

Callie’s smile dims as she moves closer to you, holding you close, her stranger danger kicking in. A small part of you is grateful that even at almost five, she knows to be cautious. Then there’s the other part of you that’s saddened at the fact that the “stranger” she’s cautious of is her own father. “Baby, this is….this is….”

“I’m Joe,” he finishes for you, and you’re both grateful and annoyed. Conflicted because a small part of you wanted to be the one to tell her, but also grateful he ironically took that responsibility off of you. “I’m an old friend of your mom’s.”

Welp.

That’s not….that’s not what you expected him to say, not what you two discussed. It wasn’t explicitly stated, but you were under the impression that they would tell her the truth. His statement isn’t exactly a lie, you did once consider Joe to be a friend, much more than that, but still. Joe’s role in Callie’s life is significantly more than that. 

This seems to ebb away some of Callie’s caution as she asks, “really?” Her eyes fall on you, almost looking for approval. With a tight smile, you nod, giving her the relief she needs to loosen her hold on you. “Do you like Disney?” That causes you to genuinely laugh, something your sweet child definitely inherited from both you and your mom was a love of Disney. 

“I do,” he answers, and you pause. Does he really? Perhaps. Regardless, it’s a smart answer for your Disney loving child. “Do you?”

Callie nods happily, grabbing your arm and twisting it to show the ‘remember who you are’ tattoo on your wrist. “Mommy and grandma have Disney tattoos, and mommy’s gonna get a Moana one for me!”

“Really?” Joe, now crouched down to be at her eye level, sounds genuinely interested, and maybe he is. Callie is impressively charismatic at only four. She’s also his daughter who he’s wanting to develop a relationship with, so it’s not far-fetched that she could be talking to him about the rate at which grass grows, and he would entertain it like he was watching a 49ers game. “You like Moana?”

Is water wet? “She’s the bestest! Right, mommy?” 

You chuckle, fixing her shirt. “She watches it almost every day.” You always found it interesting, ironic even, that your daughter instantly gravitated to Moana, unaware that the voice of freaking Maui is her cousin, that she too had pacific islander ancestry. Through her dad. The dad you kept from her. 

“You know I don’t know if I’ve seen that one—”

Callie’s mouth drops open as she looks at you, “mommy, can we watch it? Please? Please? Pleeeeaaassseeee?”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you relent after pretending to think about it. You like to limit her screentime to two hours, and even though she already watched The Princess and the Frog earlier for the 97th time this month, there was no way you were not gonna allow this bonding opportunity. 

Squealing, Callie surprises you by breaking away and moving over to Joe, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go, Joe!” She pulls on the sleeve of his hoodie, probably to lead him into the living room where Disney Plus is signed in. 

Alone in her playroom, you run over what just happened. You thought you would tell her the truth, tell her that this is the father she was asking about, the one she thought didn’t want her when in actuality, he wanted to know everything there was to know about her.

And for a second, you get pissed off. Why wasn’t Joe honest with her? Isn’t this what he wanted? To be in her life. It’s confusing. He is confusing. But….you try to give him the benefit of the doubt, certain that he must have some reason behind his actions. You just hope they’re damn good reasons.

“Mommy!” You know that tone of hers, the tone that tells you a request is to follow. 

You shout back, “yes?”

“Joe likes popcorn too! Can we have some?”

You laugh and shake your head, shouting out an ‘okay’. Walking out of the room and into the living room, you find Callie near the TV, arm outstretched as she explains every detail of Moana, even the most obvious ones. But, Joe is sitting on the sofa, watching and listening intently. His smile is stapled. 

He looks…..he looks so happy.

Moving into the kitchen, you move around quietly to not interrupt and to get their popcorn made.

Waiting for the popcorn to finish, you hear Callie ‘whisper’ to Joe, “Mommy can’t cook, but she makes good snacks.”

Amid his laughter, you walk near the living room, hands on her hips. “I heard that, little ms. ma’am.”

“That’s what Grandma says,” Callie defends with a shrug of her little shoulders. “She says mommy is pretty and smart and funny, but she burns water.” She looks off, confused, as if it’s finally registering to her that that doesn’t make sense. “Mommy, how do you burn water?”

Joe is on the sofa, hand over his mouth, fighting for his life. You also can’t help but laugh at the absolutely serious look on her face. “Finish your movie.” 

The microwave dings, so you grab two bowls and fill them up equally. Delivering them to both, you place hers on the coffee table as she’s back to narrating. “Popcorn, as requested.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes go wide with excitement as she suddenly asks, “will you watch it with us?”

Damn. You had a feeling she would ask but was hoping she wouldn’t. Disappointing her twice in one weekend felt criminal. “Callie, I'm super behind with work.”

“Pleeeeasssseeee.” She starts with the begging again and then looks at Joe to inform him, “mommy’s a teacher. Do you have a job?”

Joe chuckles. “I do.”

“What do you do?” She asks in a sing-song tone. You give him that ‘I told you she never shuts up’ look. 

“I’m a professional wrestler.”

She’s clearly intrigued, asking, “are you actually good?”

“Callie!” This little girl and her lack of filter sometimes never ceases to amaze you. Your mom swears up and down it’s your payback from how blunt you were as a child. 

You’re starting to believe it.

Joe gives a shrug, clearly loving every bit of this. You can tell he wants her to keep the questions coming. He’ll answer em’ all if it means getting to spend time with her. “I’m alright.”

At that, you give him a look and crouch down to her level. “He’s very good.” You take the remote and quickly pause the TV, adding on, “matter of fact, he’s the universal undisputed champion.” Joe gives you a look, and you can tell he’s surprised by you knowing this piece of information.

You don’t watch wrestling as much as you used to, partially due to what happened between the two of you, mostly because you don’t have the time, but even non-wrestling people know about Roman Reigns and his current, historic title reign. You’re not sure if you’d feel entirely comfortable saying it to him, but you’re massively proud of Joe and all he’s accomplished. You always knew he could do it.

Her eyes widen with excitement and curiosity as she looks at Joe for clarification. “Really?”

“That is true.” 

Head tilted, she moves away from you and climbs on the sofa to sit next to him. Her little legs crossed over as she continues with the questions. “What does undis—undis—”

He helps her out, also angling his body more toward her. “Undisputed?” 

“Yeah! What does that mean?”

You can see he’s taking a minute to decide how to answer. “It means I don’t lose. Ever.”

“Whoooaaaa,” she breathes, obviously impressed. “You must eat a lot of veggies. I don’t like them, but mommy says they make you big and strong.”

“Your mom is right,” he agrees and looks her over. “You’re a very smart little girl. How old are you again? Like 15?”

“No, I’m four!” She giggles and lifts up four fingers. “But, I’ll be five on May 19th!”

His gaze softens. “Your birthday is in May?” She nods, happily. His smile is warm, emotional. “So is mine.”

You still for a moment. You hadn’t even thought about that, that her birthday was just days away from his. There’s something strangely sweet and moving about this fact, both to you and definitely to him.

“Really?” 

And that’s how it plays out for the rest of the day, a combination of Callie’s incessant questions, intermittent viewing of Moana and parts of Encanto. Lunch and dinner sprinkled somewhere in between. You’re even able to sneak off to do your lesson planning, Callie more than fine with just Joe to entertain her.

It warms your heart to see them connect almost instantaneously.

It’s why you wait as long as you can to interrupt, never wanting to do so, to invade their moment. But, you also know your daughter, know that she needs a certain amount of sleep to function the next day. And when you check in on them and catch her yawning, you know it’s unfortunately that time.

Sighing, you enter the living room with your arms crossed. “Callie Bear, it’s time to start getting ready for bed, mamas.”

“Nooo.” She whines. “I’m not tired.” Her groggy voice and scowl would indicate otherwise. 

“Of course, you’re not.” You bend down in front of her and reach for her hand. “Come on, we gotta tell Joe bye. He’s gotta get back to his hotel.” Despite her obvious objections, she climbs off the sofa and accepts your hand but not before looking at him. 

“Will you come over again tomorrow?” She asks with hopeful eyes and a voice of excitement, both things that make being honest with her that much harder.

He obviously doesn’t want to give her the truth, but it’s better than the alternative. With a frown, he answers, “I wish….but I’ve gotta get back to work tomorrow, Callie.”

Her smile drops, and sadness arises. “Why? Do you have to go?” Her quiet voice is comprised of disappointment and despondency. You can tell it hurts him. Her hope is dashed, replaced with sadness. “When will you come back?”

“As soon as he can.” You jump in to assist, hating the way he looks so devastated not having a specific date for her. Truth be told, you wouldn’t be surprised if he won’t be able to get away for another few weeks, if not more. “And you know what, you can use my iPad to Facetime him when he’s available anytime you want.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?” 

“Of course,” he assures. He reaches to push some hair out of her face. “I’ll call you whenever I can.”

She gives him a small smile. “You promise?” 

Joe swallows. “I promise, sweetheart.” 

Pleased and obviously ecstatic at this information, she surprises the both of you by tearing her hand from you to throw her little arms around him for an unexpected hug. You’re not sure why, but the sight makes your eyes water. His eyes close as he gently wraps his arms around her as well. You look away, almost uncomfortable interrupting this moment between the two of them.

When she pulls away, you swear you see disappointment reappear in his eyes. “Bye, Joe.” 

She returns to your side, and you gently direct her, “go put on your jammies and pick out a book. I’ll be right there in a few minutes, okay?” 

“Okay, mommy.” Without protest, she turns and heads back to her room. When it’s just the two of you, you turn to him, “she really likes you.” It feels silly saying such a thing. He’s her father. She should like him. She should love him.

But you also know better than anyone that being someone’s biological parent doesn’t automatically make them a parent. 

“That’s why you didn’t tell her, isn’t it? You want to gain her friendship first.” In watching and participating in the interaction between them, it dawned on you just why he didn’t tell her right away. Joe wanted to first establish a baseline with Callie, wanted her to get to know him just for him, to bond with him not because he was her dad, but because she wanted to. 

And clearly….clearly it worked. 

“She’s amazing,” he whispers. You see he’s still caught up in the emotion of it all, meeting his daughter for the first time, connecting with her as quickly and easily as he has.

“She is,” you agree, suddenly remembering why you’d dismissed Callie. “I–I uhh, I have something for you.” Standing back up—your knees were gonna hate you tomorrow—you pull the thumbdrive out of the back pocket of your jeans. He also stands with you. “I was that new mom who was intent on documenting every single thing my kid did, and I’m kinda glad I did now.” You reach and drop it in his open palm. “I got everything on video. Her first word, first time crawling, first time walking….all of it.” Suddenly uncomfortable with his silence, you add on, “I know it’s not the same as being there, but—”

“Thank you.” he interrupts in a quiet voice, immensely grateful to you at this moment. “Thank you, Y/N.” 

Emotion seems to be the keyword of the day, because yours are also all over the place, for a variety of reasons. It’s an experience that’s both overwhelming and confusing, but also….nice? You can’t necessarily describe it, but there’s something comforting about Joe having a role in Callie’s life.

But that doesn’t equate with your decision to not tell him about her in the first place, hence why you’re a hot ass, confused mess.

He’s making you feel things again, and you don’t like it. 

“I know getting back here won’t be easy, especially with the holidays rolling around. But, whenever you can come, you’re welcome. I mean it.” Thanksgiving is less than 3 weeks away. You’re highly doubtful he’ll be touching down before then. “Christmas is her favorite holiday. I know she’d love to have you here for that.”

“I’ll be back before Christmas and for Christmas.” You don’t know how, but you do know he’s convinced of it, and you don’t put it past him. He seems entirely determined. 

“Okay.” You walk him to the door, unsure why your bodies being so close to each other is an uncomfortable yet pleasing feeling. “Oh,” you suddenly remember something. “You need to make a Snapchat account.”

He scowls almost instantly. “A what?” A small laugh escapes you at his instant disgust. “I’m too old for that shit.”

“We both are, but it’s an easy way for me to share Callie and all her randomness with people. Make it and send me the username. I’ll add you.” It seems all it takes is for you to mention Callie, and he’s sold. He nods in agreement, all distaste washed away with the eagerness of receiving photos and videos of Callie on the regular. You keep your hand on the door, chewing on your lip, murmuring, “Goodnight, Joe.” 

He gives you a look, something unspoken in his eyes. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Closing the door behind you, you lock it and take a deep breath, unsure why your stomach is in knots. Not from anxiety or fear but happiness. 

You’re happy to have Joe back in your life, even with all of the bullshit that’s transpired in this single day. There’s something relieving about having him around, and you know it’s for Callie. It needs to be just for Callie, because what you can never do again is allow yourself to fall back into that situation. 

No matter how badly your heart and your head are clashing right now.

No matter how much you're starting to wonder if your heart ever really left that situation.

[fallingdownhell]

I absolutely love your works!

Can you make hurt/comfort with kazuha, albedo, alhaitham, cyno?

Where we're on a heated arguments about them too focusing on their job and completely forgot about reader

In the middle of the argument, the reader said

"Was i really nothing to you? Was i just some kind of object that you can just forget that easily?"

Thank you

Thank you so much!<3

And of course I can! I am always down to write some pretty, delicious angst!

Characters Included: Albedo; Cyno; Alhaitham; Kazuha

Content: Gender neutral reader; pre sumeru archon quest for Cyno's part; hurt/comfort; arguments; shouting; slight cursing;

Word count: 6k words

Thanks so much for the request. Hope you enjoy the end result!<3

Albedo

It was rare for Albedo to come down from his lab all the way up in Dragonspine to the City of Mondstadt. You never really minded it, knowing that you could go there to see him at any time, while he also paid regular visits to your home.

Yet, for some time now.. those visits have stopped. He never came by anymore, far too consumed on some discovery he apparently made a few weeks ago.

Even when you travelled all the way to his laboratory on the mountain, in the icy colds of Dragonspine, Albedo had given you no attention whatsoever.

He had acknowledged your arrival, then went back to his work, while you were sitting in some corner by the fire, trying to warm up again. Even your attempts at conversation were flat out ignored, seeing as he never bothered to give an answer. You weren't even sure if he had noticed your departure a few hours after you had initially arrived.

You tried again two more times, but as you got the same result every time, you eventually stopped trying and didn't go back to Dragonspine.

Then, two weeks ago, you heard that Albedo was back in the city for a supply run.

Hoping that you would run into him to finally talk to him you spend your day in Mondstadt, but you never laid eyes upon him. When you asked Sucrose about it, she told you that he had already left again.

You went home to see if he made a trip there and you just so happened to miss him. But upon your return, you didn't find any note from him or any other indication that he had ever been here in the first place.

The same thing happened again a week after that, and by now you finally had enough. You went to the Acting Grand Master and she told you that Albedo would be back today again, to drop of some reports.

Which is why you were waiting for him outside of the Knights of Favonius headquarters, though still in some respectable distance.

When you finally saw him again after a few weeks, it felt like you haven't seen him for a lifetime.

So, without hesitation, you made your way over to him before he could enter the building. Yet, he seemed to be so deep into his own head that Albedo didn't even notice your approach.

Only when you were directly behind him and firmly said "Albedo.", did he stop and turn around, looking at you.

You could see the expression in his eyes once his gaze landed on you, like he had a sudden realization that you still existed and he had forgotten about that until that very moment. It honestly hurt.

"Hey. Where have you been all this time? I missed you..", you said, hoping to get some kind of positive reaction out of him.

"You know where I was, (name). I was busy.", he said and then turned around to leave again. You were honestly astounded that he simply wanted to let things stand as they are. Well, not today and most definitely not with you.

"You wanna leave? Just like that? Seriously?"

That seemed to have at least some kind of effect on him, as he stopped once again and turned in your direction. Except for this time, he wore an annoyed expression.

"What else do you want from me? I said that I'm busy."

After that, an argument broke out between the two of you in the middle of the street, but neither of you cared. No matter how much attention you drew upon you, it was too late now. You were both to heated and too caught up in it to stop now.

Things were said in the heat of the argument, you were sure both of you regretted ever saying out loud, yet neither of you could care less right now. Everything seemed to be fair game at this point.

Until Albedo said one specific thing.

"Archons, you're impossible sometimes, (name). Insufferable. I've better things to do right now, you know!"

Immediatly after he said that, Albedo knew he had crossed a line. The way you went silent, no comeback falling from your lips. You were just staring at him in shock, like you couldn't believe that he had just actually said that. He wanted to retract his statement, but his pride prevented him from doing so.

So, instead, you both just stood there for some time, silently staring at one another. When no reply came from you, Albedo dropped his head, then turned around once again. But before he could take a step, he heard your voice again, though this time, it sounded broken, silent sobs being held back.

"So, that's it? Was I nothing to you?", you whispered, your voice slowly starting to break from the tears forming within you, but Albedo was still able to hear you. "Just some kind of experiment or plaything that you can toss aside and simply forget about? Do I mean nothing to you?"

Upon hearing how broken you sounded, and what you actually said to him, he instantly turned around again, the sight of tears rolling down your face feeling like a knive had been thrust straight into his heart. And what's worst was that he was the cause for your tears.

You stood there, waiting for an answer from him. Yet, when nothing seemed to come out off his opening and closing mouth, you just nodded at him.

"I see..", you said, your voice now entirely void of any emotion whatsoever. That, and the fact that you were the one now turning around to leave him like that, was the twist of the imaginary knive in his chest.

Finally being able to break free of his frozen state, he rushed towards you, stopping you in your tracks as he pulled you into his chest, caging your arms around you, burying his face against your shoulder.

"I'm sorry.. I'm sorry.. I'm sorry..", he whispered over and over into your ear, which only made the tears fall from your eyes even harder. You were shaking against him, struggling to breath. You wanted to break free from him, but at the same time, you never wanted to leave his embrace again.

"I'm so sorry, (name). You're wrong. You mean everything to me. I'm sorry I made you feel like that wasn't the case. And I apologize for the horrible things I said to you."

You stood there for a few more seconds, basking in his arms, then decided to slip free. Albedo let you, almost certain that you would be walking away from him now.

But you didn't.

Instead, you turned around to look at him, allowing him to see your tear stained face that he was the cause of.

"I think... we have a lot to talk about..", you mumbled, not being able to look him in the eyes entirely. But Albedo still saw it as what it was supposed to be.

A chance. A second chance to talk things out with you, make it better between you two.

And he gladly took that chance.

From now on, he would do anything to put a smile on your face every day, never wanting to be the cause for your tears ever again.

Cyno

Two months.

That was how long it has been since you had your boyfriend to yourself for more than a few hours.

Every day, he came back from his work much more later than he usually would, sometimes even not coming home for days on end. He didn't even leave a note or something to inform you of his absence, making you even more worried about him.

And now, even when he was at home with you, he was so cold and distant towards you. Sometimes, he went straight to take a shower and then to bed, not even sparing you a second. Other times, he did spend time with you, but you could tell that his mind was somewhere else, giving only short answers to your questions and statements.

Seeing all this, you couldn't help the doubt starting to well up inside you.

Did he fall out of love with you?

Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you?

Was he... cheating on you?

You didn't want to think any of these possibilities true, but it was hard to ignore them when Cyno was behaving like this.

You tried to talk to him about this, how you felt, a few times, but he never really listened to you, keeping the conversation short so you couldn't bring your point across.

And now, you began to not only doubt him and the relationship as a whole, you doubted everything.

Did he ever even love you?

Was he only doing this out of convenience?

Were you just.. something expandable to him?

All of these questions and doubts plagued your mind day in and day out, not being able to find any answers to them whatsoever. The only one being able to give you the answers you so desperately wanted and needed, refused to give them to you.

It was driving you insane.

And now, you hit your breaking point. You weren't able to take it anymore. The constant doubt had turned itself into a depressive episode. You wanted to break free from it, but you also wanted to give Cyno one final chance. One chance to explain himself to you, to tell you the truth.

If he refused again, you would not hesitate to leave. Your mind was made up, everything was arranged. You had a small bag prepared, filled with clothing and other stuff you needed.

Tighnari had offered you to stay for a few days at Gandharva Ville where you could sort yourself out if you were not able to talk things through with Cyno. You were so grateful to him, though a small part in you still hoped that it wouldn't come down to this.

That evening, you waited and waited for Cyno to return home from work, but with every passing hour that he didn't show up, you lost more and more hope that he would come home at all today.

You sighed and were about to get up from your spot in the living room to go to bed, when the sound of the front door opening caught your attention. After all, it could only be one person that has the other key to the apartement.

"Welcome back!", you greeted him as you went out to the hallway, seeing your boyfriend standing there. He looked at you with a tired expression but didn't say anything in return.

Instead, he walked right past you, not sparing you another glance. You were baffled, to say the least. That blatant ignorance from him was what gave you the last push you had needed.

"Seriously?", you just said, turning around to face him again, this time though, wearing a stone cold expression.

"(Name), please. Not right now. I'm tired in case you didn't notice."

"Oh, I did notice. But I don't care anymore, Cyno. We have to talk."

"Please, (name). We can talk tomorrow, okay? I just want to go to bed now, not argue about something trivial."

Oh, he really dealt the final blow with that one.

"So, that's it? Do I even mean nothing to you? Was I just some kind of object you can forget about? Does this relationship even mean anything to you anymore?", you threw all of that towards him, not caring that you got more and more worked up with every word you said.

When you were met with nothing but silence from him, you took that as his answer to your questions.

"Okay..", was all you said, turning around and grabbing your packed bag before you went out the door, not even sparing Cyno one last glance. You just wanted to get out of there.

Cyno just stood there for a few minutes, still looking at the spot were you were standing before. Only now did the events catch up to his tired mind, yet he still didn't move.

He saw the defeated look on your face, the way your shoulders slumped at his dismissiveness, but he shrugged it off. Instead of running after you and trying to mend this misunderstanding, he went to the bathroom, took a shower and then made himself comfortable in the bed.

He was sure you would have returned by tomorrow and then you could talk about it.

....

Two days.

Two days have gone by and you still hadn't returned home. By this point, Cyno was beyond worried about you. After all, it was dark when you went out and he hasn't heard from you since then and no one in the city seemed to have seen you, either.

Thinking back to your last words towards him made him want to beat his past self up for not sitting down and talking to you then and there. For not running after you and bringing you back. Back to him where you belonged to.

He knew that he was neglecting you these past two months. It's not like he wanted to do so. Work has been increasing for him, the sages at the Academiya were up to something, and not of the good kind.

It put a lot of pressure on him, yet at the same time, he had to try and keep a low profile, for his sake as well as yours. But in doing so, he didn't even notice how much he had distanced himself from you. He really wanted to punch himself in the face for that, but it's not like that would bring you back to him, so he refrained from it.

He had been searching for you almost the entire day when you hadn't returned yet again. But his search seemed to not be granted success today either.

Not knowing what else to do, he decided to head over to Gandharva Ville. Maybe Tighnari would be willing to listen to him and maybe have a suggestion on how he could find you and apologize to you.

Once he arrived, he immediately made his way over to his friends hut, not caring for all the looks other people gave him. He was used to it at this point anyways.

As expected, he found Tighnari sitting at his table, scrunched over some research report. Upon his entry, his ear twitched and he looked at his friend. Cyno did find it odd however, that his friend looked at him with such a surprised expression. After all, it wasn't unusual for him to arrive unannounced.

"Cyno? What are you doing here?"

"What, can't visit a friend anymore?", he said jokingly, though it didn't sound convincing at all, judging by the look on Tighnari's face.

"You're right..", Cyno sighed instead, grabbing an empty chair and sitting beside his friend. "I need your help. It's about (name).."

"Oh, that situation? Yeah, I've heard about it from them already."

"You did? From who? And when?", Cyno asked, suddenly gaining new hope. If you were here, he might still have a chance at finding you.

"From them. I offered them a place to stay for a few days. Though after everything they told me, I didn't think you would actually search for them."

So you were here... and his best friend knew about the situation and was severly judging him. Cyno knew he deserved it, but he still wanted to try and make things right again.

"Tighnari, please tell me where they are. I need to talk to them. Please."

Tighnari looked at him long and hard, most likely trying to assess his intentions.

With a sigh, he then turned back around, focusing his attention back to his research. "I gave them the open cottage on the other side of the village. They should be in there, seeing as they haven't left it since they arrived here."

"Thanks.", Cyno mumbled, scrambling to get up from the chair to rush to where you are. He was almost out the door, when Tighnari's voice caught his attention again, calling his name.

Cyno turned around, facing his friend again. "Don't fuck it up again.", he advised, to which Cyno nodded his head. He wouldn't, he would make sure of that.

When he arrived at your temporary residence, he immediately went to knock on the door. He waited outside for a few seconds, but no reply.

So he knocked again, more urgent this time.

Still no reply.

"(Name)!", he exclaimed this time, knocking on your door again, but still to no avail.

Getting desperate, he decided to just try and see if the door was unlocked or not.

It was. The door slid open soundlessly, inviting him inside. Carefully, he walked inside, letting his eyes take in the interior. Since the door and most of the windows have been shut, it was almost dark in here, and to top it off, he didn't hear a sound.

He was almost panicing again, thinking that you might have actually left this place, until his eyes fell on the bed, and on it, he saw your sleeping figure.

Relief flooded over him, finally being able to see you again and to actually have the knowledge that you were safe and sound.

He then walked closer to you, only to take in your state. You may have looked peaceful sleeping like this, but your eyes were red and swollen, telling him that you had cried before falling asleep. And he knew that the reason for your sadness had been him.

The need to punch himself rose again, for making you feel this way when he had promised to do everything in his power to never do that.

Instead, he decided to crouch down on the floor, next to the bed, gently taking your hand into his, placing a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

He would wait here until you woke up again, no matter how many hours from now that would be. He would wait for you and ask you to please consider talking to him.

He wanted to properly explain himself and apologize to you. Whatever you decided on doing afterwards, he would comply by it. If you wanted to break up with him, he would understand that. If you decided to give him a second chance, he would thank you on his hands and knees.

But that decision would be yours to make and he was prepared to accept whatever would be thrown his way. But for now, he was content with simply holding your hand, quietly enjoying your presence which he had missed so much...

Alhaitham

The Scribe of the Academiya has been getting more and more busy these days. Well, for now, it's best to say "former" Scribe, since he has been temporarely promoted to Acting Grand Sage.

You knew that your boyfriend had absolutely zero intention of keeping that position, even if he was more than befitting for it, seeing how knowledgeable he was.

But he much rather prefered a simple life, and you couldn't argue with that logic. Who wouldn't like that, especially when pay and work hours weren't really affected either way.

Still, for now, both you and him had to live with the changed circumstances, even though neither of you were happy with them.

Alhaitham was working even more now, trying to sort out certain matters until a new Grand Sage has been chosen. You haven't really seen or talked to him in days, yet you brushed it off, telling yourself that it would change again once he got his old position back again.

Sure, he may have cancelled a few dates and had to call off a get together with your parents, but that was perfectly understandable.

You continued to give yourself excuse after excuse, hoping that soon enough, things would get back to the way they were before all of this had happened.

Couldn't take too long...right?

...

Three hours..

You had waited for him, at Puspa Café, where you were supposed to meet for your first ever date in ages again.

And he didn't show up... Again.

You wanted to give Alhaitham the benefit of the doubt, but it was getting increasingly more difficult for you.

When you got to the home you shared with him, you were greeted by an eerie silence, telling you, that he wasn't even home to begin with.

Probably still at the Academiya, working.

You sigh, adding yet another dissapointment to the list, as you went into the bathroom to get changed into more comfortable clothes. To think that you dressed up for the occaison, only to experience heartbreak again.

It's really starting to get difficult for you to forgive him for all this stuff.

....

Yet another date cancelled by him, thanks to not showing up... Again..

But this time, he didn't even come home in the evening.

It had you worried about him beyond anything, not knowing what was going on since he always came back.

You didn't sleep that night at all, only for him to angrily walk through the front door at three in the morning, mumbling something about the incompetence of the people he was forced to work with.

He only spared a glance in your direction before he went straight into the bedroom. By the time you got in there as well, he was already fast asleep in the bed. And when you woke up in the morning, he was already gone, not even leaving you with a note or anything like he usually would.

Somehow, this was your last straw.

You endured the exact same scenario so many times before. Yet, somehow, this time was just one too many times.

Next time, you promised yourself, next time you see him, you would talk to him about it, no matter if he wanted or not. Because if you didn't then there was no reason in your eyes to continue this dying relationship.

....

Turns out, the next time you would see him would once again be in the dead of the night, thanks to Alhaitham not coming home again any earlier.

When he walked through the door, he was surprised to see you still awake. Normally, you would already be asleep and he would just silently slip under the covers next to you, enjoying what little he was able to get from being close to you again gave him, before he was also knocked out cold.

But with you standing there in front of him, expression cold and hard, he knew something was up with you. And yet, he just didn't have the energy to deal with that right now. He just wanted to sleep.

"We need to talk, Alhaitham."

No greeting, no nicknames, no nothing. You were definitely upset, yet he still tried to get out off talking right now.

"Can we do this tomorrow, (name)? I'm tired."

"You mean like all the other times you promised me something and then stood me up? No, I think not. We talk about this now."

Oh, so that's what got you so upset?

"Look, I told you I would be busy for some time until things at the Academiya get sorted out. You can't tell me you didn't know about this.", he tried to reason with you, but it only seemed to upset you even more.

"You did say that.. but it's been weeks since I've last actually talked to you. It feels more like I'm your housekeeper right now, not your partner."

"This is absurd. Now you're just thinking too much into things, (name)."

After that statement, an argument broke out between you two, right here in the hallway where you "greeted" Alhaitham. You weren't full on shouting at each other, but you were talking pretty loudly. If people were to walk by outside, they could probably hear every word you guys were throwing at each other.

But neither of you cared right now.

At some point, Alhaitham walked past you, into the living room, trying to escape the argument. But you insisted on continuing it, following him into the room and at this point, he was getting fed up with the situation.

"Archons, (name)! Can you just shut up and leave me be? I don't have time for trivial things right now!"

Immediately after he said that, you went silent and his words caught up with him as well.

He looked at you, saw how tears started to form in your eyes and instantly regretted ever letting those words fall out of his mouth. Nothing was more important than you in his eyes, and yet, he still said that to you. Like you didn't mean the world to him, which you did.

"(Name)-!"

"So, what? Was i really nothing to you? Was i just some kind of object that you can just forget about that easily? To toss aside when you don't want it anymore?"

You hated how your voice cracked halfway through, how tears started to escape your eyes. And despite how much his words had hurt you, you still didn't want to run from the situation. You had to see it through.

"If that is how you truly feel about me, maybe we should end-!"

Before you were able to end your sentence, you were suddenly pushed against a strong chest, warm arms keeping you in an embrace you had longed so much for, yet right now, it wasn't comforting at all.

"Let go off me..", you stated weakly, giving no indication that you planned to reciprocate his sign of affection.

"Never..", he whispered, and with the way he sounded right now, you could almost think that he was starting to cry as well. Almost..

"I'm so sorry, (name). I truly didn't mean to say that. Please, you have to believe me, I don't mean it. You are not trivial to me, nor is our relationship.

I.. I love you. I truly do. Though I don't openly say it that often, that doesn't mean my words hold any less truth in them. You have to believe me."

"I want to... I really want to believe you, Alhaitham. But with the way things are and have been for those weeks... I don't think I can.."

By now, the tears are streaming freely from your face and you weakly put your hands against his chest, needing some kind of stability.

"Then let me prove it to you. Let me prove to you that I still love you like the first day, that I never stopped loving you, even if my words and actions made you think otherwise."

You were silent after that for some time, thinking it over. You had no idea what the best course of action for you would be, but in the end, you decided to go with what your heart was telling you. Wether or not you would regret that decision, you had to find that out in the future.

"...One more chance. You better don't fuck up again or I'm leaving for good.", you mumbled against his chest, his shirt already stained with your tears, but neither you nor Alhaitham cared about that in the slightest.

All he could focus on, was you in his arms and the fact you granted him with another chance. And he intended to use it the best he could.

Kazuha

Between travelling around the different nations and helping out Beidou on board of the Alchor from time to time, Kazuha never really had much time.

You love Kazuha. You really do...

But sometimes, you just can't help but wonder if you even have a relationship with him at this point.

When he's gone again, for weeks or sometimes even months on end, and the only form of communication with him stems from a few letters sprinkled in between here and there, how could you not doubt?

In the beginning, you used to travel around with him. And while you enjoyed the time spent with your boyfriend, getting to see all those different places and creating wonderful memories with him, you eventually grew tired of it.

That's not to say that you didn't enjoy wandering around the nations with Kazuha by your side, but you just couldn't imagine spending your entire life like this. Never being provided with a place of your own, to call your home, constantly on the go.

It just wasn't your way of living.

Kazuha understood that and would never force you to accompany him, just like you would never force him to stay with you, even when sometimes the loneliness just got more to you than on other days.

He always came back to you, but he never stayed for more than a few days before he was out the door again, not to be seen for an unknown amount of time.

It was difficult, living like this. You tried to live off the memories and happy moments you had with him when he was here with you, but it wasn't enough anymore. You wanted him by your side again, but you also knew that he would suffer in the long run if you were to ask him to stay here with you.

However, in your mind, it also wasn't an option to just leave thing unmentioned.

Which is why you made the desicion, that the next time he would come home to you, you needed to talk to him about your thoughts and feelings, in hopes you could come to a solution together.

.....

Turns out, the next time he's home again would be three months later. And like always, only letters could have been exchanged throughout this entire time.

Kazuha already had a sneaking suspicion that something wasn't right with you. He couldn't exactly pinpoint it, but the way you were writing in these letters sounded off from your usual way, which is also why he tried to make it back to you as soon as he could. He felt bad that it still took him this long, but there was nothing he could have done about it.

The city he resided in when he got that particular letter from you underwent a strict lockdown only hours later, due to a prisoner escaping. The entire city had been shut down to find him as quickly as possible, all forms of communication had also been cut short.

It took them three weeks to apprehend the convict again, and as soon as the city doors opened again, Kazuha was out of them and on his way back to you.

...

When Kazuha arrived back at the little cottage the two of you shared, it was in the late afternoon.

Already, when he opened the door, he was absolutely certain now that something was wrong. Usually, you would come running to greet him at the first noise or hint that he had come back.

But now? Nothing.

"(Name)? I'm back!", he yelled, in hopes of getting your attention this way, but still, no reaction. Maybe you were out buying groceries or something?

Still, Kazuha decided to wander through the different rooms, just to make sure he wouldn't miss anything. And now, he's glad that he did as he saw you sitting on the patio, wrapped up in a comfortable blanket.

As he approached you, he noticed that you must be deep in your thoughts, just staring ahead of you. He gently opened the door and when that also didn't seem to catch your attention, he decided to speak up.

"Darling?", he asked, cautiously, not wanting to spook you.

You flinched a little at the unexpected sound coming from behind you, but just as quickly, you relaxed again, realizing who that voice belonged to.

"Kazuha. You're back.", you stated, grazing him with a small smile as you turned around to look at him, but nothing more. Normally, you would jump up into his arms, almost taking his breath away.

But Kazuha didn't say anything about it, instead, he grabbed one of the other chairs and sat right beside you. He gently took one of your hands into his, holding it like that. He missed this, missed this physical contact with you.

"Please.. Tell me what's been bothering you, darling."

"....was I that obvious?", you asked, causing a small smile to appear on Kazuha's lips. But he didn't answer, instead waited for you to continue on.

You sighed, fixing your gaze away from him and ahead of you again, thinking about how to best approach this. It was silent for a few minutes until you spoke up again.

"It's just... You're always gone for so long that I-!"

Before you could actually finish your sentence, Kazuha began to groan beside you, making you look at him in confusion.

"(Name).. you know that I don't like being bound to one place."

"I know that, but-!"

"No but's! You knew what you were involving yourself in by being with me. Why are we even having this conversation now?"

You were shocked, not expecting Kazuha to immediately get so defensive about this. All you wanted was to talk to him and maybe propose an idea you had got when he was away. But the way he was acting right now made you feel bitter.

"Can you just listen to me? I'm not trying to confine you, I just-!"

"Yes, you are, (name). What else could you possibly want to achieve by beginning the conversation like that?"

Fed up from being interrupted by him a third time now, you've had enough. An argument started to ensue, when you didn't even intend for this to happen.

You've never experienced something like this with Kazuha, he was always level-headed, calm and collected. So why was he suddenly getting so defensive over this topic. It really wasn't like you were trying to hold him here.

But, with each thing said, both you and him grew more and more heated, the shouting starting to get louder and louder, until Kazuha suddenly stood up.

"If I knew you would get like that, maybe I shouldn't have returned at all."

As you heard him say that, you instantly went silent, looking at him with your eyes wide open.

No.. he couldn't mean that, right?

It also now seemed to catch up to Kazuha what he just said, as he also turned to look at you, shock written all over his face.

"(Name), I...", he began to stay, but trailed off, not knowing what he even wanted to say in the first place. He knew he had fucked up with that statement.

"So, that's it? I wasn't anything to you? Just something you can toy with when you get bored, only to be thrown away when you don't want me anymore?"

A single tear escaped you, running down your cheek and Kazuha immediately had the instinct to wipe it away from your beautiful face, to pull you into his arms and tell you how sorry he was.

So he did just that, pulling you into him, holding your face against his chest as he held your head secure with his hand, your tears now starting to come out freely.

"I'm so sorry, darling. I didn't mean to say such horrible things. No words can express how much I regret ever letting them out of my mouth."

You weren't able to answer him, your breathing being erratic, trying to choke down your sobs and crys. It positively broke Kazuha's heart that he was the immediate cause for this.

He just let you cry in his arms until you calmed down again, all the while he kept apologizing to you over and over, telling you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him.

The two of you would have to continue this conversation, but not today. Not when both of you were this wound up from everything that had happened.

The talking could be done tomorrow. Now was the time for healing...

[mrsjellymunson]

Say Hello To My Little Friend

Written for the @steddiemicrofic August prompt ‘plug’ | WC: 437 | Rating: M | CW: Secret crush, embarrassment, mentions of a sex toy | Tags: mishearing/misunderstanding, getting together. Mature content below the cut, MDNI.

“You’d really want one?”

“Yeah, I definitely want a plug…”

The seniors’ keggers were loud, but overhearing Steve yell that over the clamour was something Eddie never expected.

His birthday was coming up, so perhaps this year Eddie would find the ideal present, something so-very-Steve, but that also says, by the way, I like you.

Eddie spends ages scouring his favourite shops, looking for the perfect butt plug for his crush, if such a thing even exists. He settles on something in sleek black silicone, a nice size for a beginner but also functional. With rhinestones on the end, because nothing's too good for his princess.

On Steve's birthday the gang gathers in his backyard. Food is consumed and Steve gets his presents. But this year Eddie hangs back, nervous. He sidles up to Steve late in the afternoon.

“I, uh… I have something for you, but I need to give it to you… in private.”

“Ooh. Is it…?”

Eyebrows bouncing, Steve pinches his thumb and forefinger together, waggling a giant invisible blunt.

“N-no, it’s…”

Before Eddie can explain that it’s significantly more personal, there’s a sudden furore. Amongst a chorus of squeals Robin appears - with a puppy in her arms. It’s unusual-looking, with a squashed face and a passing resemblance to Winston Churchill (and Dustin’s baby photos, but nobody brings that up). Steve rushes over, grinning, petting it and asking,

“Who’s this??”

Robin replies,

“She’s for you! A birthday gift from me and your folks.”

Steve’s beside himself, cooing at the furry bundle as Robin explains to everyone about the rescue pound two towns over, and how Steve’s parents helped with the adoption from afar, delighted for Steve to have company as they’re so often away.

Eventually leaving the puppy playing with the kids, Steve follows Eddie when he retreats for a cigarette, getting him alone.

“So, where’s my present?”

“Uhh, Steve, I-”

Steve lunges for Eddie’s jacket pocket, pulling out a prettily wrapped parcel and tearing it open before Eddie can stop him.

Handling the smooth silicone, Steve’s initially aghast, then intrigued, and finally confused.

“Wait, is this because of what I said at the party? When I told Robin I wanted a Pug!”

Eddie’s mortified, heat building in his chest and spreading up his neck.

“Yeah, I know that now. Please, don’t make this worse…”

He goes to move away, but Steve grabs his jacket, stopping him. He slides his hand down to Eddie’s hip, gently squeezing.

“Y’know, I’ve actually always wanted one of these too.”

Stepping closer, he adds, voice low,

“You’re gonna have to show me how to use it, though.”

🐶

PSA: Please adopt, don’t shop. Also, neuter your pets.

Thanks so much for reading!

My masterlist

Tagging my usuals, ILY all: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams

[luizd3ad]

OH ok ok ok…

Can I maybe request a Pandora x shy!reader who has a crush on Pandora but obviously just admires from a distance; but Pandora Be Knowing (tm) - maybe Pandora just starts inserting herself into readers daily routine and readers like “?!?!?!” and Pandora’s like “!!🥰😇🤗!!”

Hope this is enough? You can message me if you want more 😉 xx

Universes Mistake | Pandora Rosier x Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Pandora Rosier x Fem!Shy!Reader WC: 2,431 CW: Use of Y/N, kinda hints of more social anxiety and awkwardness than shy (??), Reader gets anxious and overthinks. Author's Note: My first request damn😮‍💨 I'm sorry it's taken so long I’ve just had like no motivation? it kinda looks like that been kinda going around rn tho? idk maybe somethings in the air lol. I really hope you like it tho. Summary: You've liked Pandora for years but with you being painfully shy you just like her from a distance but Pandoras not having that.

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The first thing you did every time you walked into one of the few classes that you shared with her was look for her. 

She was just so amazing that you couldn't help but like her.. a lot. She was always so sweet to the people that were important to her. She was always so happy, so lively, she just seemed so carefree. Always laughing and smiling.

Merlin, that smile. What you wouldn't do to have her smile at you.

You’ve liked her since second year.

You were sitting under a tree by The Black Lake reading, you were almost completely lost in your book but then your attention was stolen when you heard talking and laughing. 

Walking past you was Regulus Black, Barty Crouch Jr, Dorcas Meadowes, Evan Rosier and her, Pandora Rosier.

They didn't notice you but you noticed them. 

You remember when you heard her laugh the first time, how it made your heart speed up, how your hands got all clammy, how you felt the heat crawling up your face. How you felt like you couldn't breathe.

You were captivated.

You started to notice her everywhere, classes, halls, the library, it felt like she had consumed your life in the best way possible. 

You had always been the shy type, finding it hard to talk to people, making friends, you would get embarrassed easier than you probably should, you'd get easily nervous so you had always just kept to yourself, you were alone. That's how you liked it.. or at least that's what you told yourself. 

So you were fine with the fact that she didn't notice you. You were happy and content with existing in the same space as her.

When you walked into Divination you noticed she wasn't there yet. You tried not to let yourself feel disappointed so you decided that in the meantime you would just take your normal seat in the back and get ready for class while letting yourself hope in the back of your mind that you'll see her at some point.

You were so focussed on getting ready for class and you didn't notice that someone had sat at the chair across from you until you heard her. “Hello, Y/N.” Your movements froze at the sound of her voice as if you were just hit with the ‘Glacius’ charm. You slowly looked up, trying to control your breathing. 

Social interactions, talking to people made you quite nervous but most of the time it was manageable. Talking to Pandora though? That was something you would have never even considered. 

You were content with just seeing her, from a distance that is.

“Um, H-hello Pandora?” You internally cringed when you stuttered and your sentence came out more like a question instead of just a normal greeting. 

But Pandora just smiled at you, not in a teasing way but in a way that had you get butterflies in your stomach, a way that made your heart skip a beat.

To your relief before the conversation could continue the professor started class and for the next hour and a half you were sitting next to Pandora Rosier trying not to completely freak out or embarrass yourself. 

When the class was dismissed you were out of there within seconds. You had never packed up and left a class so fast before. You were rushing to your next class trying to put distance between you and Pandora.

It's not that you didn't want to talk to her, it was just you didn't know how to talk to her. 

How do you just talk to the girl that you’ve basically been in love with for years? How do you talk to someone that just made your heart melt by saying ‘Hello’ to you? 

How do you talk to someone that makes you want to give her your everything just to hear your name fall off her lips again?

The rest of the day you were distracted by the thoughts of Pandora. You had shared classes with her for years. Why all the sudden did she sit with you? Why did she suddenly talk to you? Maybe she was just being nice? She was a nice person. That was one of the things you loved about her. It just never seemed like she knew you existed, let alone knew your name.

It had been a few days since Pandora had talked to you. She hadn't tried talking to you since.. admittedly it might have something to do with the fact that you didn't share many classes together and you might have also been actively avoiding her.. but who knows?

So that weekend you were in the library studying for a Charms test that was coming up. The library was quite empty since most people were off at Hogsmeade, you never went unless necessary which wasn't often. You liked how empty the castle was on Hogsmeade weekends. It was nice to just calm down for a while.

Especially because you had been spending the better part of the week running around trying to avoid Pandora.

At this point though you were willing to put the whole thing behind you. Just forget about it, move on, act like it never happened. Just chalk it up to a mistake made by the universe, something that would never happen again.

The universe didn't seem to appreciate your thought of it making a mistake because it was apparently wishful thinking to assume it wouldn't happen again.

Your head snapped up at the sudden sound of a chair being dragged on the floor. Across the table from you was Pandora, she sat across from you silently reading a book. She had a faint smile on her face but she seemed focused on her book.

You silently took a deep breath internally debating if you should leave or not.

You were there first. She didn't make it seem like she wanted you to leave. Maybe she wanted your company? Why else would she sit with you? Especially when there were so many empty tables.

You made the choice to stay and keep studying. Neither of you said a word the whole time you were there. You would look at her every so often but she did seem to move at all.

You hadn't realized how much time had passed until Pandora suddenly closed her book and stood up. You looked up at her surprised by her movements, based on the smile on her face you most likely looked as surprised as you felt. “It's dinner time. You should take a break and eat… Goodnight Y/N.” With that Pandora practically floated away, her smile never fading.

You felt your breath get caught in your throat. You mind started to race a bit. Why did she sit with you almost all day? What was her sudden interest in you? 

You started to feel a headache creep into the back of your head, because of that you decided to take her advice. To eat dinner and then just go to bed. Once again you just wanted to brush today off as a mistake made by the universe.

Well apparently the universe really likes proving you wrong because the weeks following that day you and Pandora found yourselves in an unspoken schedule.

After classes you would sit at your normal table in the back of the library and start to study then Pandora would sit with you reading or working in silence till it was time for dinner, she always said the same thing by the end. ‘It's dinner time. You should take a break and eat.’ then she would wish you a goodnight and walk away. 

You got used to having Pandora around. You stated to grow comfortable around her. You like being around her. You started to become comfortable with your routine.

Today was different though you only knew that when you grew closer to your table and you saw Pandora already there. In the few weeks you two had sat together you had always gotten there first. Pandora would usually follow after about ten minutes, today she beat you there.

Slowly and hesitantly you walked to the table trying to calm your anxiety. As you got closer to the table you notice that Pandora didn’t have her school bag with her but a picnic basket. 

“Hello Y/N. I know normally we sit here but I was wondering if you were interested in going on a little adventure with me.” Her voice was as soft as silk and fuck that smile. She could get you to do anything with that smile. 

So who were you to deny her?

You silently agreed with a nod of your head not trusting your voice. After she had gotten the picnic basket in one hand she slowly reached for your arm with her other as if asking you if it was okay, you once again nodded in agreement. Pandora linked your arms together with a smile on her face and then she led you out of the castle. 

You two silently walked together arm and arm toward The Forbidden Forest. You started to slow your walking when you realized where she was leading you to, you sent her a questioning look. “We'll be fine, I promise. You'll like where we're going.” 

A big part of you trusted Pandora more than you'd like to admit, but you couldn't help but be hesitant. You never went into The Forbidden Forest. You had heard the horrible stories rumors of past students that had ventured off into the forest and the beasts that resided in it. 

The idea of going in scared the hell out of you but with a simple squeeze of your arm and that damn smile you started to happily follow her in.

As you walked into the forest you realized it wasn't as terrifying as people made it out to be. It was actually quite beautiful in its own way the farther you walked in. Sure it was dark and sometimes the shadows would play tricks on your mind but having Pandora help more than you thought it would.

She somehow managed to calm and spike your anxiety all at the same time.

Eventually she led you to a small clearing surrounded by fireflies, trees, small hills and a lake with grass and flowers covering the floor. Close by there was something that appeared to be a wooden arch, you felt your eyes widen when you noticed what was laying under the arch.

There were two unicorns lying next to each other, they seemed to be sleeping. It was a unicorn den and it was breathtaking. 

While you were distracted by the beauty of the clearing and the shock of the unicorns Pandora had managed to set up a little picnic. There were small sandwiches, fruits and candies. She was already sitting down on the picnic blanket patting the spot next to her to have you join her.

You silently sat down next to her, your thoughts consuming you. You didn't want your overthinking to ruin this moment but you couldn't help it.

You had followed her into the ‘dangerous’ Forbidden Forest blindly. You had let her come into your life more than you thought you ever would. You had started to grow comfortable with her. Why was she doing this? Part of you was scared it was just a sick and twisted prank, but the rational side of you knew better Pandora wasn't that type of person, she wouldn't do that to someone (unless that someone deserved it). You just had to know why.

“Pandora? Can I ask you something?” For a moment you thought that your voice was too quiet for her to hear but it seems you were wrong since Pandora turned to give you all her attention with a small nod to let you know she was listening. 

It took all your courage to start talking, to not back down. “Why the sudden interest in me? We've shared classes for years now and I didn’t even know you knew my name until you sat with me in Divination. I'm just confused.”

Pandora looked away for a moment as if she was processing your words. “I've always known who you were, Y/N. I also know how shy you are, I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. So I was waiting for the perfect moment to introduce myself.. but I realized that there's no such thing as the perfect moment.”

You couldn't help but be skeptical about her answer, it made no sense to you. What was the need for a ‘perfect moment’? “Why would you need a ‘perfect moment’ just to try to be my friend?” 

A small smile spread across Pandora's face while a soft chuckle fell from her lips. She looked at you with those beautiful eyes, honesty with a hint of amusement lingered in them. 

“Who said I wanted to be your friend?” Before you could completely process what she meant her hand cupped the side of your face while her thumb crested your cheek softly. “I don't want to be just your friend, Y/N. I want to hold your hand, to take you on dates, I want to spoil you rotten and I really want to kiss you.”

To say you were stunned by her answer was an understatement. You could faintly hear your heart in your ears while a shiver ran down your back.

This felt like a dream. You had dreamt about this, more times than you could count. The only way you knew this was real was because you could still feel her hand on your cheek. You could feel how soft her hand was, how warm it was against your cold skin. It felt perfect. 

You two felt perfect. 

Pandora was eccentric, lively and so free. You tend to keep to yourself, you're quiet and observant. You balanced each other out. 

You don't know what came over you but before you could talk yourself out of it you softly pressed your lips to Pandoras'. Your heart started to race as your lips met hers. A wave of warmth washed over you as you relished in the feeling of Pandora's soft lips. 

You drew back slightly, and you felt your breath catch in your throat, your cheeks felt hot. As you look into Pandora's eyes, you saw a beautiful mixture of sweetness and love in them.

She smiled at you and pulled you in for another kiss as soft and perfect as the last one.

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[thatanimeramenchick]

Headcanons for Vox and Alastor both falling in love with an extremely powerful Overlord known as the Pink Death, she is called that because she's thought of as an incurable plague that consumes and annihilates everything she comes into contact with and she's a Pink Bunny demon and she's so powerful all the other Overlords, even Zestial are terrified of her, since when she arrived in Hell, she killed every Overlord that existed in that time and took their powers?

Incredibly Powerful Reader

Since this is a yandere blog, this will be done with that in perspective.

I also want to do this with the mindset that it is impossible to technically permanently kill other demons without angelic weapons. It is true that Alastor has made other demon overlords “disappear,” but I feel like it’s implied that he has somehow destroyed them in a way that is much worse than death, perhaps in a horrific existence in between realities? I don’t know. Anyway, I feel like the killing people with diseases temporarily and being a major threat is still an interesting view though. The complete toll you could have on demon and sinner society by wiping them out in waves whenever you felt like it would give you a lot of power in hell.

Anyway, when it comes to the guys, I see them actually sharing quite a few things at first.

Both of them would hope that their experience and ability to play manipulation games would allow for them to outsmart you, even if you are significantly more powerful than they are. Whether they actually do or not depends on you and your personality, but I could see them getting the upper hand if you’re not careful, especially Alastor.

Both of them also would hope to win you into a contract that allows them to have you under the thumb, but they would present it as giving you a power boost to help you clinch full power over hell. The details of this contract and their way of going about it will differ, but ultimately that is the goal each of them would have.

Vox

Media thrives on disaster. You’ve created a gold mine of content for this man. His interest in you would simply start out as using your story to promote his own company, and it would later turn into an obsession. Considering how the Vees are able to stay safe during extermination day through extreme isolation, I don’t think he would be too worried about the infection for similar reasons, simply being annoyed that it’s hurting the company as it’s messing with staff and therefore production.

If you decide to reject him, he can paint your powers to his advantage, threatening to use the media to paint you as a monster that hell needs to rally against at any cost. On the other hand, he could offer you a sweet deal if you want to get along nicely with him. He could make sure that everyone knows you’re the most powerful overlord in hell and that you should be respected and admired as well as feared. This is when the contract comes in, where he gets to portray you how you’d like as well as provide comfy living arrangements as long as you are willing to work alongside his company and only his company. He’ll make sure you’re on a higher position in the company than the underlings, considering how much power you have. Oh, and he’ll add a little clause that you’re not to turn your nasty tricks on him either.

Alastor

Alastor is more cautious than Vox is. While I see Vox as going the direct approach with you and a clear plan of aggression, Alastor would take his time, watching you from the shadows. He would want to get a clear idea of your personality and all its strengths and weaknesses before approaching you. Last thing he would want to do is simply irritate you.

I feel like his approach to you would be somewhat similar to how I think he is approaching Charlie. You are young and so perfectly easy to influence. Your potential is overflowing, surely you don’t want to waste it? If are just willing to submit to his ideals, he could make you the greatest overlord of all time, as well as gain total control of hell. The contract would be along similar lines. He would not rush the business like Vox would. He doesn’t want you to think he simply wants to use your powers after all. You have to feel like you’re giving in willingly because it benefits the both of you.

He would be subtle in his affection. He would make it seem like a business contract, but as you got entangled deeper and deeper in a mess you would come to see that he has a much more possessive and controlling relationship with you than you first thought. The details of the contract that at first seemed to exist to gain you some extra experience and security now seem like chains keeping you attached to a master has no intention of ever letting you become independent in your own right.

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

First Lessons

Authors note: I'm a day late (so sorry Remi), but, Happy birthday @cthulhus-curse ! Hope you enjoy the drabble!

Authors note 2.0: you all (who arent Remi) should read Chrome Hearts by @cthulhus-curse first 😁

Authors note 3: lmao well this is embarrassing, this author deleted their existence and works and also apparently didn't wanna be my friend soooo idk what to do here. Do I keep this up?? I guess I will for those that read and remember the story? Idk

Summary: Android Natasha teaches Android Wanda how to give Y/n a proper blowjob

Warnings: Reader has a penis, sexual content (blowjob)

Word count: 1653 Marvel Masterlist WandaNat Masterlist

   Normally you did your work, well, at work. But ever since you’d brought Wanda home you’d found yourself doing a bit more of it here, outside the company's guidelines and surveillance. You’d always had an at home office, used for the occasional small project, some paperwork, or even finishing up a report on your laptop. But now it was fully decked out with a state of the art computer system and monitors, various tools, android schematics, and different parts and pieces for potential upgrades. 

   Though it was nice to be able to do most things at home now, you worried you’d end up zoning out and losing track of time while toiling away on something, much like you did at work. And the mere idea of accidentally ignoring Wanda made your stomach twist. Thankfully she was a particularly curious and clingy creature, and she would happily interrupt to inquire about something, get affection from you, or go on some type of adventure.

   Tonight was not one of those nights however, as the adorable android had discovered the nature channel, and has since been firmly planted on the sofa. When you’d last checked on her she’d been watching a program on kittens, much to her delight. And you had to admit she did look really cute while infatuated with the program, so you didn’t mind her absence. What you did mind though, was the uncomfortable tightening in your pants you were beginning to feel. 

   You let out an annoyed huff as you lean back in your chair, and resign to the fact that you were now incredibly horny. As random as this was, it wasn’t unusual for you to get a boner out of nowhere. So you do what you've always done and unzip your pants, letting the bulge in your boxers have a bit more room. But before you can take things any further, a hand trails across your shoulder and you nearly jump out of your skin.

   “Sorry master, I did not mean to startle you” Natasha voices as she stands beside you, her eyes glued to your crotch

   You see where she's gazing and can’t help but smirk. It's been apparent since you brought the other android home that you had her attention, and that always made you feel good. Though you’ve yet to determine if she gives you this attention because she feels much like Wanda does or if it was solely due to her programmed settings. 

   Where Project Scarlet Witch was meant to be a walking talking Alexa, Project Black Widow was meant to be less focused on the mind and more on the body. And after getting to know Wanda and discovering her humanity, you couldn’t allow the other android to fall into Tony Starks hands, where he would run an ungodly amount of vigorous tests on her before deeming her ready for the mass market. And you just couldn’t allow that, because if she truly was just like Wanda then each of her copies would be as well. Which meant you'd be tainting her sense of wonder and curiosity, ignoring the fact was also more human than anticipated, and willingly giving her over to consumers who only saw her as a lifeless object to use and abuse as they pleased. Natasha deserved better than that. So you did much like you did with the first android, woke her up and brought her home.

   “Its ok Nat” you tell her, enjoying the way her touch feels as her hand moves to the back of your neck, her fingers 

    “Do you want my help, master?”

    You take a moment to think, because to be honest yes, you would love her help. Android or not she was gorgeous, and you know she has the programming to make you feel amazing. But at the same time, you hardly know her yet and you don’t want to take advantage of her. You want her to know she's more than what she was designed for.

   “Do you want to help?”

   She's a bit taken aback by this question. She's well aware of what she was designed for, she knows her programing. And since you are her creator she figured you would expect her to carry out those things without hesitation or question. Having a choice isn’t something she really expected. But then again knowing what she does about you, it does make sense. You are incredibly kind, and have been nothing but gentle and patient with both her and Wanda. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t understand the other androids infatuation with you.

   “Yes” she admits, “Please master, let me help you feel good?”

    You spin in your office chair to face her, “If that's what you really want, then go ahead baby”

   She ignores the way the pet name makes her feel and lowers herself to her knees in front of you, letting her hands caress your thighs as her hands move up towards the waistline of your boxers. She eagerly pulls them down, feeling herself getting even more aroused by the sight of your dick. She looks up at you through her lashes, and you have to hold back an audible groan at the sight. She continues to hold eye contact as she lowers her mouth to take the head of your cock. You hum in approval as she gently sucks, running her tongue along the underside.

   “Feels so good baby” you praise, watching her through hooded eyes as she gets accustomed to having you in her mouth

    Determined to take all of you, she relaxes her throat and lowers her head even further. Without thinking your hand flys to the back of her head to guide her until her lips are meeting your skin and she's gagging. Your first instinct is to apologize for forcing yourself down her throat but when you open your mouth only a moan escapes you

   She hums around you, letting you know she's content with this, while also causing you to twitch inside her. Spurred on by feeling this she begins to bob her head up and down at a steady pace, pulling a symphony of sounds from you in the process

   Wrapped up in each other, neither of you hear the patterning of soft footsteps making their way towards your office, or the sound of the nearly shut door creaking open, “Master, are you oka- oh.”

  She stands there, mouth agape as she takes in the scene before her. Seeing Natasha taking you down her throat has her feeling both incredibly between her legs, but also a bit jealous that the other android had been allowed to partake in this task first. When the redhead's eyes flick over to her she whimpers, which is what finally gains your attention.

   Your head turns to her, and you're filled with guilt at her finding you like this. You didn’t want to upset her, or make her think anything was different between the two of you. But then you notice the way her thighs are clenched together and how her teeth sink into her bottom lip

   “Come here princess” She quickly obliges and comes to stand right next to your office chair, “Natasha has programming you don’t, she's using it right now to take care of me. Would you like to learn how to do this too?”

   She eagerly nods, “Yes master, I want to take care of you too”

   “What do you think, baby?” you ask, looking down at Nat, “Wanna teach Wanda?”

   She nods and reaches out to take the brunette's hand, pulling her down to her knees as well. Wanda watches as the other android slows down a bit, letting her uneducated friend observe every movement of her tongue, lips and head. After a few moments of this however, you can no longer stand the slow pace. You gently shove her head back down your shaft, further and faster than her own movements and she gets the idea. She continues at the speed you set for her.

   “Fuck…just like that Natty”

   The nickname that spills from your lips has something unusual stirring within her chest, but she doesn’t have time to focus on it as her focus is solely getting you over the edge. She reaches a hand up to fondle your balls and Wanda watches in awe as your abdominal muscles tighten and a heavenly sound of pleasure leaves you.

   Natasha stays still for a moment, letting you empty everything you had into her awaiting mouth before she pulls away with an audible pop. She pants lightly as she looks up at you, not used to her systems working at such a pace but she is clearly not having any troubles

   “Did I do good, master?” she asks, clearly a bit nervous despite the way she just drained you

   You reach out and cup her face, “You did so good, baby. I haven’t felt anything like that in quite some time”

   She smiles proudly at you before her attention is taken away by Wanda tugging on her shirt sleeve, “Do you….do you think you could walk me through it my first time? Watching was helpful, but I still fear it would not be an entirely pleasurable experience for our master without some more guidance”

   “Oh you are adorable” she lets slip before she can process it, causing both of them to have cheeks as pink as the carnations growing in your garden. You don’t call either of them out on it though, you let them have their bonding moment, “I can instruct you, as long as master is alright with that”

   “Of course” you reply, looking at both of them with pure adoration. Who would have guessed that the androids you created for work projects would wind up being so much more. They truly were your partners now, robotic or not. And you couldn’t imagine life without either of them.

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @when-wolves-howl @danveration @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories@imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastorm @zoomdeathknight @aeroae @sashawalker2

[baldval]

Hiii! How are ya? can I request Valentino x reader who works for vox? But not only do they work for him they have created a anime and game for it under him? So like they’re a well known manga artist type ting? So yeah they’re not a nobody basically

if not that’s fine! Have a good day/night dear :)

ART DECO PART 1!₊˚⊹♡

characters: valentino x gn!reader

wc: 1.6k

warnings: curse words, mentions of sex, making out, suggestive content.

a/n: i might do a part 2 if you guys like this!!

series masterlist!

You're bored.

To the exterior eye, working for THE Vox may be a dream. Cash, cars, designer clothes, big fancy functions filled with important hell-people and overlords. It sounds perfect.

It isn't. Between stupid rivalries, betrayals, and VERY dramatic bosses, being one of the top content producers for Vox is smothering work. But you'd rather have that than being nothing. At the very least, being so close to the Vees grants you protection.

This evening, you discover yourself at yet another 'emergency' call from Vox. Something something about losing views and how this most be the radio demon's fault. It's the 4th time this week.

You arrived at Vox's place, yet you can't really see him anywhere.

"Umm... Velvette" the girl looks up at you from the couch, unbothered.

"Watcha need sweetheart?" she moves her eyes back to her phone.

"Do you know where Vox is? He kinda called me on emergency basis? I'm not really sure what he need though."

"I have no idea where that shithead's been. He didn't even go to the last meeting with the overlords." She rolls her eyes. "He had to send me."

"Oh alright so no idea." You feel frustrated.

"You could of course ask Val"

"Did anyone say my name?" You smell him before he enters your eyeline. He smells like vanilla and sandalwood. He smells like vanilla and sandalwood. He smells expensive. Not the faux, gawdy expensive like most men within Vox's circle, but truly extravagant.

"So dramatic." Velvette mumbles, eyes still on the screen.

You feel him before you turn around. He’s warm, and broad, and the crisp white material of his dress shirt is pressing into you. You gasp quietly at his boldness, praying that Velvette doesn't notice how close you are to him.

Valentino.

Vox's second in charge. Both an overlord and the owner of the largest movie studio. One of the greatest assholes in Hell.

The man you’re hopelessly in love with.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You truly hadn't meant for this to get this far.

Initially, it was sex. Brilliant, mid blowing, earth shattering sex.

Until it wasn't.

Now, it's late night phone calls and clandestine meetings and holding hands and apartment hunting and kisses on the forehead.

Now, it's genuine.

Vox would murder you if he found out.

You'd be shunned. Everything you'd worked for. Everything you'd created. Suddenly you don't exist. It's all Vox's.

If there was one thing you liked about your deal with Vox was the fact that he allowed your things to be yours.

People knew what you had created and they knew it was created by you.

You didn't want to lose that.

Essentially, it'd be worse than hell, which you're already in. So why do you keep finding yourself considering it?

You’ve never been loved like this. So total, so complete, so all consuming. So unconditional.

And it's true that Valentino has nothing to lose. If Vox finds out, he won't be affected at all.

But he keeps it a secret.

And you're pretty sure you know why.

You wake up to kiss him all over his face. You dance within the kitchen, as he spins you around in your socks. You see how he stares at you when in a meeting, analysing your face.

You ran into love headfirst, impulsively. Would you have slept with Valentino that night, well over a year ago, if you'd have known this is how it'd turn out? You're not sure. But all you know is that, right now, the risk is more than worth it.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"You with me, sweetheart?" he mumbles into your ear, warm breath raising the hairs on your neck.

"Yeah, Val," you murmur back, trying to keep a neutral expression on your face. "I'm here."

"Where did you go, huh?"

His fingers travel down your neck, drawing little figures on your back.

"Just daydreaming," you answer.

"About what?" he asks teasingly, caressing your skin in delicate movements. Back, forth. Back, forth. He's making it difficult to concentrate.

“You,” you whisper discreetly. He you loud and clear. “Always you.”

He needs to kiss you. God, he needs to kiss you. He needs to grab your face and smash his lips to yours, consequences be damned. He wants to pick you up and twirl you around and scream "look at the woman I love!"

Instead, his fingers tighten around your waist. He looks around carefully before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to the spot just below your ear. Then, he moves to stand in front of you. To anyone else, it looks like two colleagues having a conversation.

"You look so fuckin' wonderful in that dress," he tells you, his voice bound with sincerity and admiration. His eyes are raking up and down your frame. The heat of his gaze making you warm.

"You don’t look so bad yourself," you tease. That’s an understatement. His suit fits him like a glove, perfectly tailored to all of his curves. It’s all crisp edges and careful lines. He’s wearing the cufflinks you got him for his birthday, the ones engraved with the both of your initials. The letters are small, tucked away on the underside. No one knows they’re there – your little secret.

Valentino winks at you as you stand up, going to take a step forward, but a hand on your arm stops you.

"Vox was aking where you were. The meeting already started, come on." Vox's assistant acompanies you towards Vox's office.

As you walk through the lobby you whisper to Velvette.

"No idea he was in his office, huh?" perhaps you were trying your luck, but in all honesty, Vox had pretty much as much respect for Velvette as he had for you.

"Do you think I care where that asshole is? I'm not his nanny." She talks back, louder, so that you can hear her as you enter the door.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

There's a pull between you and Val. It's like a magnetic force, dragging you together no matter where you are , or what you're doing. You're feeling it within the dull board gatherings. You feel it in the dull 'Vees Team' gatherings. You feel it at the functions he’s reluctantly invited to by Vox. You feel it now, as you try not fall asleep at Vox's words of how you all should double the work and double the content. He says that as if animating was that easy.

You allow your mind to drift away, dreaming of what awaits you later tonight. You can picture it perfectly. You and Val, curled up in bed, his penthouse bedroom illuminated by candlelight. Glasses of wine discarded on the night stand, sheets thrown across the mattress, legs tangled together. Skin pressed to skin, warmth seeping into your bones. Gentle melodies filling the room, the man underneath you humming softly into your ear. If this is hell, you’ll think. then it might just be better than heaven.

The second you get out of the meeting, you feel his eyes on you. Heat prickles over your skin, goosebumps rising. It's kinda like a 6th sense, this quiet communication between you. You capture his gaze and wink, and you swear you see him blush slightly. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and gestures in the direction of the door. You get the hint, and follow him, trailingly behind subtly.

You reach the corridor and look around, but Valentino is nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, you feel a warm grip grab your hips, pressing you into the wall.

"Been holding up to urge my hands on you all night," he mumbles into your ear.

He's trailing his fingers up and down your sides. You can feel him, hot and difficult behind you, groaning as he bites at your throat. He kisses the hinge of your jaw, and after that your cheek. It's forbidden and it's provocative and it's so tender it makes your knees wobble.

"Come to my room," he begs. "Vox is so distracted with that Radio Demon that he won't realise."

The offer is tempting. So, so tempting. But there's currently so many people in the Vees' house. Any of them could see you enter the same room… suspicions arise. As easy as it would be to just say fuck it and tell everyone, your survival instinct tells you it wouldn't be the best idea. You want to stay in this little bubble of warmth and love and trust a little longer.

You want to stay happy a little longer.

“We can’t,” you whine. “Someone might notice.”

"I don’t give a fuck," he replies.

"Of course you don't."

"You shouldn’t either."

You want to disagree, but the way he’s moved his hand to sit at your throat while pressing himself into you is making it hard to think.

"Live a little, baby," he teases, nipping at your ear.

"Fine! Fuck, fine. Let’s go before I change my mind."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your eyes blink open, sunlight streaming through the sheer window ornaments. You're resting comfortably on Val's chest, both of his solid arms wrapped around you. You yawn languidly.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Oh. That. You check the clock on the nightstand, realising that it’s only 7am. On a Saturday. Who’s knocking on the door at 7am on a Saturday morning?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Fuck, is the noise getting louder? You push Valentino carefully, waking him up.

"There's someone banging at your door," you whisper.

He groans and untangles his legs from yours. He puts on a pair of boxers, and moves towards the door.

You listen intently, curious to know who’s trying to gain Valentino’s attention so determinedly.

The door swings open.

"Vox?" he questions, and you can almost hear the fear in his voice.

“Hey Val. Did you see where the fuck y/n went to?”

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Angst, grief, sorrow, fighting.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello angels, here is the next chapter hehe, bit of a sad one but what do we expect from SF&A at this point? Lmaooo. I've almost completely finished writing the whole series, so updates may become more regular as I pump it all out for you. What a journey this has been! Enjoy <3

Chapter 92: Burn Together

To say that things went back to normal would be a farce.

It was all a farce. 

The fake smiles. The small nods. The words of affirmation and condemnation. The false sense of security and even falser acts of content. It was all wrong. It was all changed. And it was all too much.

You spend much of your days in the Garden, sat where you were usually seated, staring out at the water as you tried to uphold some sense of strength. Tried to show some vision of superiority and that the loss of the child was divine intervention. As though the anger and hurt had gone, as though the sadness and regret had left, because you knew it was for the better, or perhaps the Gods had told you so. 

Words came to you rarely as you began to shrink into yourself again, but with each shrinking moment came the bursting strikes of life. Not happiness or joy, not frustration or longing, pure and uncontested rage.

Rage that it happened.

Rage that he had done nothing.

Rage at your stupidity.

Rage at your desire for more.

Aemond did not try to pry words from you, nor did he even try to touch you. He simply let you exist around him, giving you the space to come to him when needed. Late at night, in the darkness of the chambers you would roll to face him, and the most bitter of sobs would leave your lips. 

At first Aemond had been uncertain, and stayed still amongst the sheets, unsure of whether or not to hold you or offer you support. But when you had rolled and pressed yourself into his side, his arms had curled around you in a way that felt natural, as though your body was made to fit between his in such a way, and let you cry against his chest. 

Your clothes, your maids noticed, had begun to wear large on you, finding that you had no want to eat nor any appetite to do so. Even with the gentle encouragement of them both, you still did not find the heart to do it, looking at the bowl of star fruit in front of you, stomach full of lead. 

But Aemond allowed you to do it. 

He allowed you to grieve, but at some point, everyone has their limit, and it seemed that tonight was the night for his. 

“You need to eat, Y/n. You need move past this grief. Do not let it consume you.” He implored, grasping at your cheeks.

You pulled away from him, looking up at him with a shaky lip, “Nothing you do will ever make this okay! Nothing you say will take away what you have already done, or what you are to do.”

“What are you talking about?” He questioned, deep lines in his brow.

“This! Us!” You broke, “All of it. It seems as though the Gods have destined us with nothing but pain and agony, and how much more must I bear? My heart cannot take it, Aemond.” A tear slid down your cheek, “I am tired, but more than this I am so alone. So very much alone even with you standing in front of me. Even as I can reach out and touch you with mine own hands. Even as you promise me sweet nothings, I know that it will never be enough to satiate the hungers of the punishments I will soon be lashed with.”

Aemond shook his head, stepping forward towards you again, “Do you think I am going to hurt you? I’m not going to punish you for losing the child. It was not your fault.”

A sob fell from your lips, “Then why do I feel one coming? Why do I always feel as though I am one hair away from your cruelty? We take one step forward together and five steps back. I have given you everything, and yet what do you give me? Nothing. You did nothing. You stood there and watched as I was brought before Aegon. What if it had been me? I thought it was going to be me! And you stood there like a craven and just watched.”

His violet eye blinked at you, the sapphire beside it, still.

You sucked in a breath again, “You watched as your precious wife, the mother to your child, was brought to the throne by force. You watched as Aegon threatened to take my tongue. And what did you do, Aem? You stood there and did fucking nothing!” Anger rose within you, bubbling viciously beneath your skin, “You stood there like a craven as your brother accused me of treason! Your wife! Your supposed love! Your one childhood companion who did nothing but defend you, no matter the odds or punishment! It has always been me. I have been the only one to ever love you. The only one to ever care. The only one to ever defend you. How many times did I do that for you? From the training yard, to the dragon pit, to the Sept. And when the time came for you to defend my honour, you were that same, scared little boy who would hide in the tunnels after his brother would tease him.” Heat rose on your cheeks as you looked at your uncle, his face stern and his eye narrowed.

"You expected me to do what?" Aemond snapped, "What did you expect me to do in that moment? I was not even told you were being brought to the chambers. I could not have possibly done anything that would not have made it worse. If Aegon had seen me react, he would have delighted in the sight and been moved to do more."

You scoffed, “I am burdened with being wed to a coward who hides behind the illusion of duty. A man who cannot even stand up to his drunken, pathetic, whoring brother.” You forced out a humourless laugh, watching as Aemond became irritated, “My husband who rides the largest dragon in the world, my husband who is a skilled warrior; sits and waits to be told what to do like a dog. Doing everyone else’s bidding.” You stepped closer to him, eyeing him down, “If I had not seen your cock, I would have suspected you were a eunuch.”

“My duty is to my brother, to my mother. To my blood.” He sneered.

“And what of my blood, Aemond? What of our union? What of the prophesies from the Gods? Did they not command you to act as you watched me be dragged by men into the throne room? That babe may have been the Prince that was Promised, and now it is gone. Because of you.”

Aemond huffed, “I could do naught! He is my brother. He is the King.”

“And I am your wife! And the blood of the dragon between us runs thicker than the water of the womb you have shared. Like a scared little boy. Never have I seen you so pathetic. You left me for dead.”

Aemond scowled, “I would never do that to you.”

“And yet, you did. You left me at the hands of your brother. And you watched. You have only lost one eye, yet you are so blinded by your duty to them. I feel as though I have died already. I died the moment I watched you do nothing, as those men touched me, as the pain creeped into my womb. I died the moment I realised I meant nothing to you, and that you would let my fate fall into Aegon’s hands. Is this a cruel joke from the Stranger? Is my true reality too grievous for my soul to take? Am I destined for all eternity to love a man who does not love me back?”

“I do love you.” Aemond insisted, frustration in his tone.

“Then why do you let them hurt me?!” You cried, “Why do you hurt me? The Gods play tricks on my mind and my body, and punish me for your actions. She was your whore. Your bastard. And yet I was punished for it. Not you. Me.”

“I lost the child too, do you not think that it pains me so?”

“I know it does not! You did not feel it as I felt. You did not feel the life leave my body, or the pain that came after. You did not feel it pass through me.” You sniffed, another tear falling.

Aemond’s lip twitched as he looked down at you, voice dangerously low, “I thought I lost you both.”

“And that is where the sickness and depravity of the Gods come to fruition. It is a never ending cycle of hurt and be hurt. I do not know what they have planned for me, but I fear it, Aemond. I fear the path they have paved for me. That child was from them, I know it. I felt it in my bones. And yet we lost it. Will they punish me now for being so careless? Will they punish us both for not ensuring its birth? I cannot continue to wreak the consequences of the men around me. I will break. I will break like poor Helaena did. But even to that, there is nothing I can do because I fell in love with a man who’s actions wound me most terribly. There is this small, foolish piece of me still holding onto hope that the Aemond I grew up with would still care for me as he did.”

“I do. I love you deeply. I would do anything for you, surely you know this.” Aemond began, stepping forward to hold your face tightly in his large palms, thumbs brushing the tears that fell from your cheeks.

“It is okay,” You heaved a breath, “Please just tell me if it is a farce.” You grabbed his wrists almost desperately, “If you only say it so for the treaty. I will understand, I will even make my peace with it.” You said desperately,  “But please, I cannot survive my heart being torn apart by you any longer. I cannot do it, Aemond. I won’t. I will throw myself from Maegor’s Holdfast, I promise you this. I will set you free from these marriage bonds if you so wish, and my spirit from this earthly plane.”

Aemond stepped towards you, grabbing your shoulder and neck, fingers framing your chin, “Avy jorrāelan.” I love you, “Eman va moriot jorrāelatan ao.  Kesan va moriot jorrāelagon ao.  Se qēlossās kostagon ropagon hen se jēdar, se nyke iēdrosa jorrāelagon ao.” I have always loved you. I will always love you. The stars could fall from the sky, and I would still love you.  

Aemond’s eye narrowed as he spoke, brow furrowed in a way that creased the scar at his brow, “Eman jorrāelatan ao pār nyke ēlī ilagontan laesi va ao.  Se kesan jorrāelagon ao ēva ñuha mōrī jelevre.” I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you. And I will love you until my last breath.

A loud sob left your lips as your heart clenched in your chest at his words.

"Hen se gūrēñare yard, naejot se havor tistālion, ēza va moriot issare ao.” From the training yard, to the kitchen, it has always been you.

“Aemond.” You hands tightened around his wrists in a way that would have been painful as you clutched him for dear life.

The Prince pulled you forward towards him, clutching you against his chest as he let you cry, wrapping his large arms around you, blanketing you in a feeling of safety that only he could bring to you.

You cried into him, feeling the last of your resolve fall away, and the rawness of your grief exposed to the chambers. He held you to him tightly, afraid to let go, your hands tightly wrapped in the front of his tunic.

When Aemond finally pulled back, he brought his lips to yours. It wasn’t burning with passion or desire, it wasn’t laced with regret and grief, instead, his lips moved against yours like a gentle whisper of assurance, a smaller whisper of truth, and the almost invisible whisper of a promise, all of which was overpowered by one thing, and one thing only.

Love.

Your uncle pulled away, looking down at you with nothing but adoration as he spoke again,“Lanta rōvēgrie zaldrīzes perzyssy, hēnkirī hae mēre. Spool hen kasta, spool hen zōbrie. Iā rōvēgrie ropagon naejot letagon lanta hubon. Vējes naejot zālagon hēnkirī.” 

Two great dragon flames, together as one. Spool of green, spool of black. A great fall to tie two threads. Fated to burn together.  

Tears continued to fall, but not because of grief. Not because of the sorrow that swallowed you into its dark pit, its wispy tendrils pulling you beneath its icy surface. Not because of the regret that you had, or guilt that you felt for the Maester.

You cried because you knew it was the truth. 

You knew it to be.

It had to be. 

All of this could not be for naught.

“Avy jorrāelan.” I love you, He whispered again.

You gave him a sad smile in return, “And I love you, but I don’t think I will survive this.”

“I will not let them hurt you.” 

You looked at Aemond carefully, watching as the words left his mouth, at the way his eye held conviction, at the way his mouth held an almost Godly truth.

The way he said it to be true.

As though speaking would make it so.

“You already have.”

Aemond dipped his head towards you again and kissed you, pulling you against his body once more as you wrapped your arms around him, sighing into the kiss, feeling relief in his touch, safety in his arms, warmth in his reach.

Slowly Aemond moved you backwards towards the bed.

Your heart did not race nor skip, your breath did not hitch, and you went with him willingly, hands reaching the bottom of his tunic to begin unclasping the latches that held it together. 

When the last clasp was undone, your hands skated beneath gently, softly, slowly, and moved up his torso, feeling the hard lines of his body, and the warmth of his skin, and the subtle breaths that he took as you made your way to his shoulders, hands moving beneath to slide it off his his body. It fell to the floor, the next his under tunic, and before long, your hands reached forward to unlace his breeches. 

Aemond spun you softly, pushing your hair away from your neck and forward over your shoulder, kissing the bare skin as he unlaced and the back of your gown, the heavy material sagging on your body until it slid to the floor beneath you. 

Breeches and chemises were lost, boots and stockings tossed, until finally the two of you laid atop the green sheets of your bed, his callused hands skating over your skin in reverence, with undying patience and care. 

First he took you with his mouth, bringing you to your peak with the help of his long fingers, stretching you open for him and whispering words of praise against your slick skin. When you peaked with a cry, he kissed his way up your body, through the valley of your breasts until he hovered above you, seeking permission to move as he lined himself with your core. 

You tilted your head upwards, chasing his lips as he slid inside of you slowly, the both of you moaning into each others mouths. Pleasure coursed through you with every thrust, heat blooming in your core as he made love to you for the first time.

It was not possessive or rough, violent or haste, it was slow, and sensual, hands mapping out bodies, savouring the flickering sparks that spouted beneath your skin. The small sighs that he made, the moans as he dipped his head into your neck.

All of it devastatingly pure.

The tears came without you even noticing them there, Aemond finding them upon your cheeks with a moment of concern. He brushed the tears away from your cheeks as he stilled, the length of him throbbing inside of you, desperate to keep moving. 

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head vehemently, “I wish we hadn’t wasted so much time apart.” You whispered, hips moving up to meet his, encouraging him to move again, “I wish the war had not happened.” Aemond slid through your folds as you babbled beneath him, “I wish that we had not done the things we had done.” 

Aemond bent his neck to kiss you again, tongue chasing yours before he pulled away, the breath having been stolen from your lungs.

“We cannot go back, we can only move forward.”

You nodded, weakness and sorrow buried down beneath you as you looked at him with determination.

“Burn together.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

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Bold is who I cannot tag!

[23fallencomets]

chapter four!

this took a while ngl and it’s a bit longer than usual but that’s because there’s a sliver of plot. enjoy reading and i’ll try to figure out when the next update will be 💞💞

[twitter]

user39: anyway do you guys remember the blackout of 2023

user40: babes i can NAWT do this rn

user41: the year-long blackout of logan sargeant

user42: wait what

user43: logan was being hella mistreated by his first agency that we genuinely had no way of knowing anything about him

user43: we knew he was okay when he briefly showed up in a reel Fred had posted towards the end of the year

user42: logan sued and won his case against the agency and we try not to bring it up

[instagram]

logansargeant made a new post

!los angeles

liked by oscarpiastri, olliebearman and 125,490 more

logansargeant: back to the city i go

oscarpiastri: all the way across the country again

logansargeant: win in spain and i’ll attend the triple header

oscarpiastri: deal

user42: bro!??

olliebearman: pls take me with you

kimi.antonelli: aren’t you supposed to be asleep??

olliebearman: aren’t you??

user44: oh my god it’s loscar all over again

arthur_leclerc: can’t believe you didn’t want me to go with you

logansargeant: you have testing in italy

charles leclerc: is this why you were looking for flights to la???

arthur_leclerc: logan’s la apartment is really nice 😞

[twitter]

logansargeantoffical made a new tweet!

user45: alright who are we fighting this week

user46: is it because of what that bitchass company is saying

user47: his old model agency?? didn’t he sue them or something??

user48: yeah, he sued them mid-2023 and won in december of the same year

user49: logan i beg you to go batshit crazy pls pls pls

[instagram]

logansargeant posted a story!

[twitter]

logansargeant made a new tweet!

logan snorts, only liam can grate oscar’s nerves like that. he’s thinking of a reply, wondering how far he can push his pr training. he doesn’t get to in the end, a message from his rep causing his heart to drop. the messages are half congratulatory and half concerned, but he’s more focused on the image.

logan turns his phone off, sliding it across the table and sighing. was he excited for the event? sure, he loves being able to support his community, even if he’s not openly out, his support has never been quiet.

the last thing he needed though, the very last thing on top of a mountain of responsibilities, was a blind item about him. the last one nearly ruined him and the very new and fresh relationship he had been in. despite things turning out okay, logan wasn’t and everything seems to come back to the stupid fucking account that nearly killed him.

his phone goes off, a one-two buzz before the continuous buzz of a call. he debates letting it ring before deciding against it and grabbing his phone.

the smiling picture of oscar gets him to answer it, holding the phone up to his ear.

“are you coming?” is the first thing oscar says, voice still thick with sleep. something tugs at logan, fondness, contentment and the ever-consuming knowledge that he’s horribly in love with his best friend.

“you made pole didn’t you.” logan says back, keeping his eyes on the laptop in front of him. it had gone dim while he contemplated his existence, the email he was in the middle of replying to ignored in favor to talk to oscar.

“mhm, don’t accept lawson’s offer.”

logan laughs, “lawson. you’re ridiculous, piastri.”

he can almost see oscar roll his eyes, “he’s lawson until he apologizes.”

“did you have to threaten him.”

oscar scoffs, “it wasn’t a threat, lolo, it was a promise.”

logan taps the touchbar of his laptop, saving the email reply before navigating his way to mark webber’s email address, cc’ing oscar on it.

“there’s a blind item about me.” he says quietly, “again.”

the call goes silent and logan knows that any residual sleep oscar had has been wiped. there’s rustling on the other side, the ping of oscar receiving the email does nothing to calm logan’s perpetual anxiety.

“god, like the last one wasn’t enough.” oscar snarks, “nearly six months of court visits and questionings and fuck-all investigations.”

2023 wasn’t a good year, half of it being because of Emmeris, the agency logan worked under. the nearly murderous hours, managers and employees that treated their guests like dolls, something to break down and mold to their liking. the other half was about the blind item, that logan was dating an indy driver, a childhood friend of his. the thing was that he was, the relationship itself last three more months before logan called it off. kyle called it dumb, but logan knew it would only be a matter of when it could follow him onto track.

“it’s about us,” logan adds on, “you’re the only one of our friends on the grid, liam and fred don’t count because they are reserve drivers.”

he can hear the cogs in oscar’s mind turn, always trying to be one step ahead, to navigate himself out of a car crash. the car crash in this situation being logan, again.

“let them think what they want.” oscar said, “we can talk about it when you get here, and we can face it together, just like we did last year.”

“with or without liam?”

oscar laughs, “without him this time, please, i do not want him hanging all over you again.”

[instagram]

logansargeant posted a story!

logansargeant made a new post!

liked by oscarpiastri, liamlawson30 and 289,678 more

logansargeant: home

oscarpiastri: watch me win

logansargeant: literally sitting in the mclaren garage as i type this

liamlawson: when did you even take these???

logansargeant: said ‘cheese’ and you said to give you a minute and then you pulled out the guitar

arthurleclerc: i think you just hate me

logansargeant: always 💞

arthurleclerc: hope your fantasy team loses

logansargeant: you’ll wish ill on your brother

charles_leclerc: im on your fantasy team??

logansargeant: it’s ferrari

user50: so glad that logan has a support system

frederikvestiofficial: where’s my pic

logansargeant: in my heart (he kept throwing pillows at me)

[twitter]

[wannab-urs]

Ouroboros

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

Summary: You and Dave are two people with nothing left in the world but each other. You find each other starving, desperate, violent. WC: ~1200

Content/Warnings: Love as consumption, but it’s not quite love; oral f!receiving, unprotected PIV (do better!), blood, biting, really violent metaphors and similes, scratching, pinning, choking, marking, idk rough sex in general, everyone involved is emotionally unavailable and sad.

A/N: This is inspired by a blurb I wrote on violent expressions of love/love as consumption. I haven't written anything quite like this before so I guess lmk if you'd like a part two! Thanks to @atinylittlepain, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @gasolinerainbowpuddles, @amanitacowboy, @beskarandblasters, and @theywhowriteandknowthings for listening to me yell about it for two days and helping me along <3

Dave York Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

I want to tell you a story / of snakes eating / their own tails, Swallowing themselves whole. I hope / you can guess that this story Is about love / and what people will do / to get a taste of it --@twinnedpeaks

Dave has lost everything. You can tell just by looking at him. There’s a desolation in his eyes like none you’ve ever seen before save looking in the mirror. You are so empty. There is something you both lack and the absence of it has left you starving. Something not quite right with you. Born without it maybe, or maybe it was taken by force. 

You’re both so empty that when you’re together it’s like you take turns trying to fill yourselves up with each other, but you’re only ever left hungrier than you were before. Desperate for the taste of each other. You bleed when he touches you, pour it into his mouth and down his throat, but it never makes him less ravenous. 

You let him dig teeth and claws into your chest, tear into the cavern where your heart should be. Someone said if you get hungry enough you’ll eat your own heart, and maybe that’s why there’s not enough of you for him to get his fill. 

He says you belong here, never with him, but here, in the wasteland of his arms. He says you tear the flesh from his bones. He asks how he could love you when he has no love to give even as he buries himself inside you, settles under your skin. 

You’re both too afraid to hang on to each other, though you leave claw marks in the letting go. Part of you wants to love him, but in loving him you would undoubtedly lose yourself. 

You yearn for a love that doesn’t exist. Where claws sinking into flesh, sharp and scathing, ripping organs from your body, tearing you apart at the seams so you can be remade into something new doesn’t result in the utter destruction of self. A love that’s all consuming and desperate and violent but that still feels like a home you can settle into. 

And the yearning is another type of hunger. Just another thing you lack. All the things you lack enough to form a hill you will probably die on someday. How can the absence of something be such a heavy weight to carry? You want to settle some of it on his broad shoulders, but you don’t know how to give away what you don’t have. You give him yourself instead. 

He wraps your thighs around his head and settles in to feast on you, tongue delving deep inside and curved nose grinding into your clit. He eats you as if he’s trying to find a way in. You gouge his shoulders, raking up his neck and into his hair. You revel in his flesh caught under your nails, something of him you can take with you. He groans and it vibrates your bones. 

You pull him closer, something like pleasure coursing through your veins, you think. It’s been so long since something felt good you aren’t sure this is what it feels like. But it feels like something and you crave something. The something settles low in your belly, coils like a snake, and strikes. Dave drinks you down, consuming everything you give him, and when he peers up at you from between your legs his eyes are still full of a dark hunger. 

He drags his mouth up your body as though he can’t bear the thought of your taste leaving his mouth. Sinks teeth into the flesh of your shoulder and you swear you hear them clack through your skin. You yank his head away from you by the hair he has let curl at the nape of his neck, and he snarls, his mouth tinged red with you. 

You surge up into him, crash your mouths together hard enough to split lips and you swallow, taking blood and spit and slick on your tongue and he sucks it back onto his. He settles fully between your legs, not breaking his mouth away from yours as he pushes your thighs into your chest. You let him fold you in half, his hands settling into the mattress and keeping you spread wide for him.

He buries his face in your neck, bites down, and snaps his hips into you, both of you grunting at the force. He splits you open at your core, soothes that hollow ache of emptiness, filling you to the brim. All you think or feel or see is Dave. The planes of his back shifting and sheened with sweat as he ruts into you, the shining red streaks on his shoulders a beautiful contrast to golden skin. You dig the nails of your left hand into his asscheek, pulling him into you even harder. Settle your right hand in a fist in his hair and twist and he growls in your ear. 

He sits back on his heels, grabs your hands and pins them to the bed. The bones in your wrists shift pleasantly painfully (what’s the difference?) as he settles his weight forward. You wrap your legs around his torso and pull him back to you, emptiness for even a moment too much to bear. You latch your teeth into the muscle of Dave’s forearm and he lets go of your wrist only to wrap your throat in his long fingers and squeeze. 

There’s something so intimate about your life being held in the palm of someone’s hand. There’s something so violent about him, burrowed deep, always lingering beneath the surface. There’s something so reassuring knowing he is entirely capable of snuffing your life out right here, but he won’t. Not because you are some precious thing, but because he needs you as badly as you need him. 

You are near silent, coming with a desperate gasp for air you aren’t able to pull in and he follows you. He too is a vessel with a crack somewhere near the middle, unable to hold anything inside for long, and he is pouring himself into you, hoping you will hold what he gives you. You shudder around him, grasping at his fingers around your throat not to pull him away, but to push him in harder. 

He tears his hand away first, then the rest of himself, landing on the mattress next to you and no longer touching you. The after always sending him reeling from you as though your skin burns him. Maybe it does. You head to the bathroom to clean yourself up while he berates himself for coming back here. 

In the mirror you’re a vision of blooming purple and searing red. Throat, shoulder, wrists, thighs, cunt, all marked and aching. You’ll feel him for the days it will take him to fall back into your bed and just as he fades from your skin he will knock on your door. 

When you return to the bed, Dave is on his back, hands folded on his chest like a corpse at his visitation service. You lie beside him, upper arms pressed together as you mirror his pose. 

“Are you staying?”

He makes a noncommittal noise, a yes and a no, but grabs your arm and pulls you into him anyway. You wrap around him, an arm and a leg thrown across his body. You press your lips to a mark on his chest you don’t remember making. He traces patterns on your naked back and sighs. 

“I want to, I think.”

---------

Thanks for reading!! I have a general idea for a part two if it would interest anyone :) And sorry to the people I was supposed to write requests for... this wouldn't get out of my head.