#but i don't have a shirt that matches that description

[marvelsswansong]

perfectly poisonous pair

summary: the three times Coriolanus realizes you're his perfect match, his eternal soulmate: darkness and all.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and dark soft!Corio with equally unhinged reader (an anon previously said morticia x gomez addams vibes), fluff, violence, non-canon compliant, CW for graphic descriptions of violence, kidnapping, murder, possessive/dark thoughts - please take care of yourself first!

☆ word count: 6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Marriage is, at first instance to Coriolanus, an institution and an act that he doesn't quite see the point of.

The legal and financial benefits, sure. But committing himself to one person, to be bound to them body, heart and soul for the rest of his life? That level of vulnerability and permanence feels too foreign. Too abstract, even, that thinking about it quickly makes his stomach churn with sickness.

Coriolanus spends the majority of his upbringing, consoling himself that he doesn't have the time to worry about such things as romance. After all, there was always the next bill to pay and the next threat of eviction to dread.

Not to mention, he thinks, no one will truly ever get him. Not even grandma'am or Tigris understands his inner being. The man deep within his guts, the cunning voyeur who enjoys violence and manipulation. And if they only knew, he believes, they'd be horrified.

No one really knows Coriolanus for who he is. And no one will truly be able to understand what it's like to feel and think like him.

So marriage is completely out of the question for him.

At least for a long time.

Until he meets you.

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

the beginning: "must be a coincidence."

You're the first person (other than the wide-eyed idealist, Sejanus) to treat Coriolanus with kindness at the academy.

You come in as a transfer student mid-way through the semester and he comes to notice the small ways with which you show your appreciation for him. Slyly backing up his answers in class discussions. Smiling at him in the hallways. Sticking up for him in conversations, not caring if the others give you odd looks for defending a 'clear outsider' amongst them.

"If you ever need anything, you can always count on me." you'd once told him after school, his knees barely brushing against yours in the car you've invited him into so that he wouldn't have to walk home in the freezing cold.

Suppressing the urge to interrogate the reasoning behind your kindness, his numb fingers felt sudden warmth when you delicately placed a crumbled up note into his fist with your address in it.

"Stop by whenever you need something. Don't suffer alone, okay?"

He never takes you up on your offer.

At least, not until a few months later, when he finds himself knocking on your door late at night. Three in the morning to be precise, with a busted lip and dark red stains blossoming across his white shirt.

And when you open the door, you don't react to his disheveled state in the same way he'd expect from his family. No pity and shock like grandma'am, nor is there a trace of light apprehension and fear like there would be from Tigris.

Instead, your eyes crinkle with kindness as you invite him inside your home and sit him down on a nearby chair in the living room.

"How bad is it?" you ask, cutting him off with a stern glare before he can lie. "And don't lie to me, Snow. I need to know if you're going to need a drive to the hospital instead of my attempts at first aid."

Sighing, the blonde gives in, his bones aching too much to put up a fight.

"Not that bad, I promise." he grumbles, trying to keep his breathing normal as you lean in closely to examine his injuries. At this proximity, he can see the reflection of the overhanging yellow lights in your irises, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration before you leave the room and return with a soft towel and warm bowl of water.

"Could you look up for me?" you question, your cold fingers steadying his neck to carefully crane it upwards.

The warm, wet fabric in your hands then trace the edges of his jaw, picking up the droplets of blood scattered across his face.

Keeping his eyes forward at the line of bookshelves by the fireplace, time seems to slow down. His senses are overwhelmed by your hairwash - rosemary and vanilla, he thinks - and the room is awfully quiet. All he can hear is the muted sounds of your soft breaths and the rustling of leaves outside, the pale moonlight creeping in through the gaps of the floral curtains in the dead of December.

"Do you mind me asking what happened?" you ask, now switching your attention to the trail of blood buried into the crevice of his neck. You cringe right afterwards, almost wincing at your audacity. "Sorry, you don't have to say if you don't want to."

If anything, it just makes him smile. He likes seeing you embarrassed, he thinks.

"No, it's fine. I'll say. It was just... a party gone awry. Felix managed to convince everyone to go downtown."

You frown at the mention of the downtown area - it was common knowledge that it wasn't safe to wonder the south of the Capitol this late at night, especially if you were obviously from central.

"And then?"

"Got jumped. Felix and his friends ran away quickly. Sejanus got caught up in the mix and I couldn't just... leave him."

Coriolanus hates admitting the slightest sign of weakness, that perhaps he had a friend he cares for, so he's eternally glad that you don't dwell on it. Humming in response, you squeeze the towel in your hands, the water below now a murky shade of brown.

"And how much of this blood is your own? Do I need to get the sewing needles out?"

"I-"

His response is staggered by brief flashes of the fight playing in his mind. He recalls there being a lot of heavy breathing and fast movements. A slash there. A broken nose there. His feet driving down onto the man's chest repeatedly, down, down, down - he hears bones cracking at some point and Sejanus is suddenly pulling him backwards, begging him to stop but Coriolanus can't-

"Coriolanus."

Your voice snaps him out from his dazed state. He then swallows nervously, not knowing how much is safe to disclose.

"I'm fine. Really. Just some bruises and a split lip. The blood is from dodging a few knife attacks and the criminals stabbing one another."

It's a half-truth, really. Coriolanus had dodged a few stabs his way, but only because he tripped the man charging him and grabbed the knife instead to drive it into the man's sides. Enough to severely wound, but not kill. He feels the soles of his left shoe drag on the floor, the fabric nearly coming off from the repeated force with which he'd stepped on the other accomplice's ribs. It makes his jaw clench with embarrassment.

If you notice it's a lie, you don't say anything.

You ask him if he can undress, so that you can wash his clothes for him. After all, you tease in a lighthearted manner in an attempt to lift the mood, you still have school tomorrow at eight.

"You can leave the dirty clothes hanging by the chair outside the bathroom. I think you're overdue for a long, hot shower."

All arguments die in Coriolanus' mouth when he realizes how nice this feels. The foreign comfort of being cared for by someone else, of having his guard down and following someone else's lead for once. So he wordlessly follows you to the bathroom in the back and discards of his dirtied clothes outside.

The hot water is a nice luxury, the scalding temperature starting to erase his memories of the fight. He rubs his scalp raw and watches the water beneath his feet fade into the drain, the steady dripping of water droplets calming his mind.

When the blonde finishes, he comes out and sees that you've folded a set of new, clean clothes for him by the door of the bathroom (your father's old clothes, he learns). Once changed, he wanders outside and finds you hanging the freshly washed clothes outside on your front lawn.

"You should go home, Corio." you say quietly. "Your cousin and grandmother must be worried sick." you look back at him, a reassuring smile on your face.

"How... how can I ever repay you for all this?" he finds himself asking, desperate for an answer. Surely, you'll want something back for this. Certainly, this was all to get something back from him-

You shake your head sideways, waving your hand in dismissal.

"There's no need to repay me. I like to think you help me out every day at school, so think of this as more of... a much delayed gift."

Once you're both back inside the house, no longer shivering from the cold, he finds the silence to be oddly tense. You're in your sleepwear, after all, a silky night dress stopping right above your knees with a gray knit cardigan on top.

He swallows, nervously. He hopes you can't tell how fast his heart is beating.

"Uh, thank you. Seriously. I owe you."

"You really don't."

"I really do."

You roll your eyes playfully.

"The only person who owes me anything is Felix. He shouldn't have suggested you all go to downtown when it's dangerous, and he especially shouldn't have left you and Sejanus to nearly get stabbed to death." you spit, and your angry expression makes him chuckle.

"Ah, well, but he is the president's son. What can we do." he jokes. A small grin flickers onto your lips for half a second at that comment.

"So he is. Good night, Corio. I'll see you tomorrow."

It's initially an uneventful day for Coriolanus the next morning when he walks into the academy, naturally catching your eyes from across the room. You give him a reassuring nod from behind the door of your locker, where the majority of your attention is being held up by an overeager Felix - your assigned partner for the week.

Due to his schedule, Coriolanus doesn't see you again until lunch time. By which the newest rumor sweeping the academy has been the sudden violent illness which has fallen upon the president's son.

"I heard he was puking blood." he hears Clemensia whisper to Arachne, who nods furiously.

"Sejanus had to carry him to the medic's office - Felix looked like a half-dead ghost."

He's itching to speak to you as he quickly rounds the corner and runs up the flights of stairs leading to the library, where he's shared many lunches with you before. He knows your favorite sport by heart, that being the cozy seat under the large arched windows overlooking the front lawn.

As expected, he finds you there, sitting cross legged and gazing out towards the lawn. Upon closer inspection, he sees that you're watching Felix get escorted into a dark vehicle, an unreadable expression on your face.

"Have you heard that Felix is sick?" Coriolanus carefully asks, sitting down from across from you. You turn to him, your face scrunching up in sadness.

"Yes I have. Terrible news, really. Something about nasty nausea and uncontrollable vomiting."

Your tone is sympathetic and your face has all the features of genuine worry, but there's a small twinkle in your eyes that indicates a secret.

It makes Coriolanus delirious with want.

"And would his illness have anything to do with you being close to him as his project partner?" he questions, sliding in closer towards you to keep his voice down.

He looks down at your lips then back up at you, smirking.

"Just seems strange, don't you think? Given that he seemed just fine last night?"

A half-second smile, you shrug.

"Must be a coincidence."

He kisses you right then and there.

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

the point of no return: "you're quite a messy lover, Coriolanus Snow."

Finding you is a miracle to him.

And now that you two are officially dating, he sees the glimmer of hope for something permanent like marriage in the future.

But Coriolanus is still unsure of the publicity of that kind of arrangement, which leads him to request that you two keep the relationship under wraps. At least until graduation, he justifies, to keep the romance hidden away from the judging eyes of the faculty and fellow classmates.

You don't seem the least bit bothered by the news, your lips only quirking up into a warning smile as you tease that you may then have to bring other men as dates to public events to save face.

At the time, he'd just shrugged at that, playing it cool. "I don't get jealous easily." he'd said confidently.

Oh, how he was wrong.

It's only after he becomes your boyfriend that he becomes acutely aware of and sensitive to how desirable you are to others. Visitors to the academy flirt with you openly, not knowing that Coriolanus is watching from the background, fuming with anger. Your male classmates are too eager to carry your books for you, their body leaning ever too close towards yours when you ask them to pass on the papers in class.

But this, right now, seeing you with another man at the spring gala... It feels different.

Those people, the strangers and classmates, you let down firmly but gently. Those people, you wouldn't even let their hands hover above your skin, always placing a firm distance between you and them. Those people-

Fuck.

You didn't smile at those people like you're smiling at this date of yours. The tall, dark haired man's arm is lingering just above your waist, too close for Coriolanus' comfort, and his thoughts turn lethal when the man leans down to whisper something in your ear that seemingly makes you laugh.

It takes everything within him to not lose control then, when Sejanus speaks up.

"You alright?"

His friend's voice cuts into the tirade of violent thoughts playing in Coriolanus' mind, the whiskey starting to taste sour in his mouth. Forcing another sip of alcohol, he meticulously coaches himself to nod along, feigning disinterest in you and the mystery man.

"Just fine, Plinth." he grits out, but with his steely blue orbs not deviating from where you and your date are standing, it's obvious to any bystander that he's lying. So Sejanus chuckles, nudging the blonde playfully.

"Yeah right. Though, I'm not surprised that (Y/n) brought him along." Sejanus takes a sip of his wine, before pausing at seeing the blonde's expression remain hardened. "You do know who he is, right?"

"Am I supposed to?" Coriolanus scowls.

"That's Harrison Bramford. His grandfather was one of the main generals back in the days of the war and his family single-handedly leads the weapons manufacturing industry in Panem."

"Hm." is all Coriolanus says in response, the revelation doing little to appease his anger. His left arm rises in a reflex to force more alcohol down his throat, only to find the glass half empty.

"I need another drink." he announces, not caring to hear his friend's response.

Sliding into the bar, he hears your soft laugh and whisper before you disappear into a nearby hallway, leaving your 'date' alone. Out of the corner of Coriolanus' eyes, whilst he leans forwards and pretends to watch the bartender grabbing him another glass of whiskey, he sees the tall dark haired man also beelining towards the bar.

"Vodka on the rocks." Harrison growls, nearly slamming his glass down onto the counter. It's only then that Coriolanus lets himself look into the man's light green eyes, taking care to keep his expression fairly neutral and his voice calm.

"Rough night?" Coriolanus asks, deciding to play the unassuming role of a concerned stranger. Harrison chuckles, wiping his hands on his thighs whilst shaking his head.

"You have no fucking idea. Women are such pieces of work."

The blonde tastes blood with how hard he bites his cheek in an effort to stay silent.

"Your whiskey, sir."

He's grateful for the interruption of the bartender sliding his drink down towards him, as with every word leaving your date's mouth, Coriolanus is feeling his rage boiling and threatening to spill over like toxic waste.

"This chick asked me to come here tonight, you know? Me. A Bramford. I put up with her annoying stories and stupid questions all night, I even held her fucking bag for her to go to the bathroom." the man rants, his skin starting to twinge red with how fast he was speaking. "But will she even let me kiss her? Nooooo. Apparently it's too quick. Wouldn't even let me grab her ass."

It's then that your boyfriend finally loses it, and there's a muted sound of something shattering and the feeling of something sticky and hot running down his right hand. There's a few gasps of shock, the bartender hurrying over with a spare napkin as Coriolanus' blue eyes adjust to the blurry scene in front of him.

He's shattered the glass in his hand.

"Shit, you alright?" Harrison asks, leaning over to see and then pulling back with a disgusted expression after seeing the bloody sight. Remaining calm whilst pulling out the chunks of glass, Coriolanus chooses to play nonchalant, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yep. Sorry, not used to..." he pauses, trying to find the right excuse. Instead, he finds a brilliant plan. "Not used to going so long without smoking."

The dark haired man nods in agreement, seemingly sympathizing.

"Ah, I get you. Nasty withdrawal symptoms, huh? Seen a lot of my buddies get them whenever they try to quit smoking."

Securing the makeshift tablecloth wrap around his injured hand, Coriolanus pushes his chair in with his legs, his uninjured hand strategically reaching into his pockets.

"I think I need a cigarette. Care to join?" he asks, already knowing the answer from the overwhelming scent of cigarettes spayed over the man's clothes.

"Why not."

Suppressing a smile, the blonde leads the drunken man out the door and far away from the venue, down a few shady alleyways and into narrow dirty streets crowded by graffiti and trash bags.

"Uh... you sure this is the right way?" the man behind nervously asks, and Coriolanus almost wants to roll his eyes at how pathetic he finds the man's fear.

"Don't worry, Bramford. Just avoiding the 'no smoking' signs and security guards by the venue."

Once the blonde is sure that they're both sufficiently far away from the venue, at a dead end alleyway sandwiched between a run down bike shed and abandoned dumpsters, he stops in his tracks. Coriolanus then uses the split second of confusion felt by the other man to strike him directly in the chest, forcing the taller man's entire body down.

Grabbing the nearest object next to him - a wooden crate- Coriolanus smashes it into bits on the man's head, whose face is now pressed up against the dirty cement.

"You absolute piece of shit." Coriolanus swears, adrenaline pumping through his veins in irregular rhythm as his boot kicks into the pained man's ribs repeatedly. "You disgusting, vile, privileged piece of shit."

Each insult is compounded by a stronger kick, the three glasses of whiskey and pure rage emboldening his thoughts and strengthening his attacks. Coriolanus thinks he may have heard a bone or two cracking, but he isn't sure. He can't even bring himself to care, not when his mind's fixation switches to the enticing sight of a broken glass bottle laying to his right, the jagged scars glistening under the moonlight. Coriolanus snatches it up in half a second, before pressing the edges of the makeshift blade against the whimpering man's throat.

"W-why are you doing this?" Harrison barely gets out, mouth already filled with blood, his gasps stuttered in pain.

The blonde only chuckles, his left knee coming down to press the man further into the ground, right hand beginning to trace the edge of the glass down the man's neck.

"Because, Bramford. You denigrated the love of my life. You dare try and place your filthy hands on her. Hell, for the crimes of your family and your disgusting behavior tonight, I should do the Capitol a favor and ki-"

"That's enough, Corio."

Your boyfriend nearly drops the bottle in his hand out of shock at hearing your voice ring out from behind him, the development so unexpected that for a second he almost wonders if he's hallucinating. But no, when he tilts his head backwards, he sees as clear as day you standing there with an amused grin on your face.

"Darling, I-" Coriolanus begins, stepping back up carefully and setting the glass bottle aside (but far away from Harrison's reach).

You just shush him, that ever-so-understanding twinkle in your eyes, your heels clicking on the uneven cobblestone as you stand with your body right up against his.

"I warned you about this, you know." you sigh. Coriolanus frowns, confused.

"What?"

"That you'd be jealous. He's just a toy, love. Nothing happened nor was ever going to happen tonight." you assure him, taking his uninjured hand in yours and squeezing it in comfort. You frown at the sight of his other bloodied hand, but he waves it off as an explanation for a later time.

"It's not that I don't trust you, petal. It was just... this scumbag was speaking about you in a revolting manner. I just couldn't contain myself." he slowly explains, a mix of guilt for being caught and anger for not being able to finish his actions creeping in. "He deserved it."

"Not denying that, love." you assure him again, smiling. "But goodness... What a mess you've made. You're quite the messy lover, Coriolanus Snow."

Coriolanus then can only watch, mesmerized, as you walk up next to Harrison's squirming body on the floor. Crouching down next to the man, you tut, as if you're saddened by the sight in front of you.

"Here's what's going to happen. We'll do you the favor of making it looking like you had too many drinks and got robbed. We'll take your wallet and expensive jacket. You'll survive, only a few major injuries but nothing life-threatening, and that's the story you'll tell your father and his friends." you pause, letting out another sigh, as if explaining this whole ordeal is tiring you. "In return, I will keep quiet about your nasty drug addiction to your father. One more strike and you're out, as your daddy said, so let's not aggravate him further. Deal?" you ask, smiling sweetly.

When the man stays silent, only letting out pained breaths in response, your right hand snaps out to press his face further into the concrete.

"I said, do we have a fucking deal, Bramford?"

Coriolanus finds himself completely transfixed by the attractive sight playing out in front of him: your pretty face scrunched up in fury, your delicate fingers dipped in blood as the man beneath you pathetically sobs and agrees. You then smirk, harshly dropping the man's head back down. Your boyfriend is by your side immediately, taking off the man's jacket as you pocket the wallet, your eyes finding Coriolanus' once more.

"I think I'm in love with you." the blonde confesses, the words coming out faster than he'd anticipated. It's a mix of things that causes the sudden confession, the adrenaline from having beaten a man nearly to death, the way your hair is being caressed by the harsh winds, the smell of your sweet perfume mixing with the harsh stench of copper in the air...

It's all making him dizzy and lovesick.

But all you do is roll your shoulders back and chuckle, kissing him quickly on the lips.

"I know."

But, Coriolanus thinks, you can't know - the real depths of his love, the unbridled fire now lapping at his skin, the overwhelming desire to claim you as only his.

And when he finally comes back home, he digs through his cabinets and finds the family ring. Swallowing thickly, he stores it in a small jewelry box and tucks it right underneath his bedroom's windowsill.

One day, he knows. He'll marry you.

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

the final act: "sorry for worrying you."

He'd meant to propose sooner.

He really did.

But then the games happened, his victory came with the assistant position to Dr Gaul and a full ride scholarship to university from the Plinths, and you'd be called away to District 2 to assist on your family's business operations.

Coriolanus missed you, fiercely. No amount of blurry phone calls and monthly visits lasting no more than the short weekend could satisfy his ache for you. Your melodic laugh. Your soft touch. Your witty observations and jokes, your soft breathing on his chest when he'd hold you at night.

But it's necessary, you'd remind him, lips trailing across his cold skin. It was how you and him were going to conquer the Capitol. Together.

On an assuming Tuesday in April, on the day you were due to arrive in time for Tigris' birthday, the phone rang in the mansion. The housekeeper, mid-way through dusting the library in preparation for your arrival, had come running into Coriolanus' room without even knocking. He'd woken up bleary eyed, a few swear words of annoyance on the tip of his tongue, all of which dissipated upon seeing the alarmed look on the housekeeper's face.

"It's for you, sir. Says it's urgent."

Brows furrowing, but not thinking anything much, Coriolanus answers the phone.

"Coriolanus Snow speaking." he mutters into the receiver, eyes still foggy from the remnants of sleep. The voice on the other end chuckles, a dark and pompous sound which makes him scowl in annoyance.

"Mr.Snow... when was Miss (L/n) set to arrive in the Capitol?"

The sinister question jolts the blonde awake immediately, a quick glance at the clock hanging by the door confirming his worst fears. It was four am, at least three hours past the time you were set to arrive.

"Is this a ransom call?" Coriolanus growls into the phone, his fingers clutching the receiver so tight his knuckles were beginning to redden. Teeth aching with how tensely he's clenching his law, his frantic eyes find the housekeeper's worried ones, before he urgently signals for the older woman to fetch the guards roaming the front of the property.

The stranger on the other side only chuckles in response, clearly gleeful at the distressed sound of Coriolanus' voice.

"I'm not sure, Mr. Snow. Would you like to perhaps ask her instead?"

The string of curses and violent threats bubbling under his throat never get spoken when he hears the sudden shuffling of feet and muffled arguing on the other side of the phone, before your voice fills his anxious ears.

"Hi, Corio."

Huh.

You seem awfully relaxed for someone taken as hostage.

Yes, he recalled having numerous discussions with you about such a scenario occurring once Coriolanus' status was elevated in the Capitol and you'd agreed to take on some share of the family business. And your boyfriend also knew that you'd grown up training in archery and fencing, so it wasn't as if you were wholly unprepared to defend yourself.

But still, it shocks him how your voice is completely aloof and calm, with even a hint of a smile at the end of your sentences.

"Hi, darling. Are you alright?" he carefully responds, pondering if you are perhaps being held at gunpoint and forced to speak in an unnatural manner. But you just hum in response, the same noise you'd make if he'd asked you something simple like what you wanted on your toast, nonchalant as ever.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine. Just don't forget to water the lilies, they get very temperamental this time of the year. Wouldn't want a repeat of last April, now would we?" you joke, and Coriolanus feels himself slightly relaxing into the conversation.

"Of course not."

"And don't forget you promised me pancakes the moment I came back to the house. I've been missing your banana pancakes dearly."

He can almost picture your smile at that comment.

"Well then... you should hurry back soon." he calmly responds, only for the phone to then be ripped away from you and the stranger's voice returns - grating and aggravated. Coriolanus can tell that your kidnapper is frustrated and dumbfounded by your seemingly calm disposition and mundane conversation with your boyfriend, a revelation which fills him with great satisfaction.

"If you still want her alive, leave a suitcase of $20,000 by the coordinates sent to you. You have two hours."

As if on cue, the housekeeper rushes back in with a note - tied to a bird sent over to the house, she says - and the security team behind. Unravelling the coordinates written onto the piece of paper, and looking back at the clock, Coriolanus' mind whirls with endless possibilities.

Explaining the situation in brief, he directs three of the guards to go out into the location with a briefcase loaded with fake cash - one to drop off the bag, the other two to keep extensive watch to see who picks it up. The other two, he commands to stay by watch at the house.

Sitting in an unmarked van whilst staring at the spot where his security guard had placed the suitcase, Coriolanus' leg won't stop bouncing up and down.

He's riddled with anxiety and doubt, hating himself for being unable to protect you, worrying about your whereabouts. As even if you sounded awfully calm and capable on the phone, a part of him can't help but wonder if that was all for show, to prevent him from worrying too much.

A torturous hour passes before Coriolanus gets a call from the housekeeper.

"Sir, she's home."

He nearly drops the phone.

"What?"

"Miss (Y/n) is home. She is sitting in the kitchen, having a cup of tea as we speak."

It's a blur as Coriolanus commands the car to race back towards the house, his heart nearly pounding out of his chest as he bursts through the doors of the main hallway.

And there, calm as ever with a light grin on your face, is you.

You're sitting in his favorite velvet cushioned chair by the dining table. Your face smeared with blood, your clothes are torn and hanging in loose threads, and your hair is wet, red crimson droplets falling onto the floor in steady drips. And as the sun rises over the estate, the golden light illuminates your hairline and Coriolanus swears he sees a halo above your bloodied form.

"Hi, love. Sorry for worrying you."

Without a single word, he rushes over to you and nearly yanks you up to a standing position, backing you up against the wall to kiss you fiercely. Your knees almost buckle from the force with which he grabs your neck, his shaky breaths so desperate, his hooded eyes still looking into yours as his left hand suddenly shows a ring box in his hand.

"Marry me, darling."

You blink twice, surprised at the sudden action, as he chuckles and laces his fingers with yours - blood on blood.

"We're perfect for each other. You are my soulmate, my perfect pair: body, heart and soul. Truthfully, I've had the ring with me for almost two years now, but it never felt... quite right." he pauses, taking in your shaky, happy smile. Your cold hands warming in his embrace. "Not until now. You're the one for me."

"Even if I bleed all over your kitchen?" you croak, as he slides the cool metal onto your ring finger, before kissing your bruised knuckles.

"Especially if you bleed over my kitchen. As long as it's not your own blood, of course."

It's you who closes the gap this time, nearly tackling him with the force with which you kiss him, arms encircling around his back. Smiling into the kiss, he tastes the mix of your strawberry lipgloss and the metallic hint of blood on your lips, an intoxicating combination.

When you two finally part for air, the silver band now glistening on your ring finger, Coriolanus chuckles.

"Now, would you like those banana pancakes?"

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

epilogue: "nonsense, darling. I'd clean blood off of you forever."

"I think I'm starting to see a gray hair. on you, Corio."

Your husband scowls at the playful joke in the bedroom mirror, standing up to straighten his tie as you get changed in the walk-in closet.

"Please, I'm barely 30. Are you sure you're not hallucinating, darling?" he fights back, and you peek out half-dressed from the closet, pouting.

"You're questioning my eyesight now? How could you be so cruel."

Your faux sour expression is quickly kissed away by two cold hands cupping your cheeks, and you would've lost the balance in your heels had he not steadied you immediately, his hands dropping to your waist.

"Aw, I'm sorry, petal. Will you ever forgive me?"

You pretend to think about it, cocking your head sideways.

"That would depend."

"On what?"

"Mom! Dad!"

Your snarky response is cut off by the sound of small feet pattering on the marble floor, the front doors swinging open as a small figure runs straight to you and crashes into your legs. A spitting image of you and Coriolanus, your daughter, looks up from your knees before grasping onto her father's hand.

"Up, please."

Clearly amused by the sudden burst of energy in the room and his daughter's politeness even in moments of silliness, he crouches down and picks up the squealing child who comfortably settles into his arms.

"Guess what."

"What is it, honey?" you ask, brushing the stray hair out of her eyes.

"I got the highest score in my entire class on my math test."

"Wow, that's incredible, sweetheart." Coriolanus practically melts on the spot, bouncing the child up and down as she giggles into his neck. "You are the smartest person ever, Belle."

"Not as smart as mommy." she sasses in response, looking up at you for approval. You coo, ruffling her hair affectionately before looking up at your husband with raised eyebrows.

"See, Corio? Even our daughter is kinder to me than you are."

He rolls his eyes in response, left hand sneaking out to pull you in close as his lips kiss the top of your head.

"Nonsense. I love both my girls equally." he says, only for the picture perfect moment to be interrupted by another figure rushing into the room.

"Mrs Snow, the car's just arrived for you by the fr-" the intern freezes in his steps, having clearly caught the Snow family at a private time. You of course don't mind, just being amused by the situation, and your daughter is just curious at the new person who just walked in. All the while, Coriolanus' reaction couldn't be more different, his glare sharp and mean.

"I thought I made it clear, I don't want to ever be disturbed when I'm with my family. Unless it's an absolute emergency." Coriolanus states, his tone icy and unforgiving.

By the furrowing of his eyebrows and the cold stare in his eyes, you can already anticipate the flurry of murderous thoughts filling his head before you cut in. After all, the interrupting intern, a 17 year old boy by the name of Elijah, is only trying his best. And you find him oddly endearing and sweet, particularly with how badly he tries to impress your husband.

"It's fine, Elijah. Please ignore my husband's rude comment. I'll be right out."

Setting your daughter down, Coriolanus leans forward and growls into your ear, watching the young boy scatter away quickly.

"You're too nice to him, darling. Don't you think we should dispose of him and get a new intern...."

You slap his shoulder.

"What do I always tell you? No need to create unnecessary messes. Besides, he's really good with Belle and easy to control."

He smirks at that, irises filled pink.

"You're probably right. Can't have another bloody mess on your hands to clean up."

"Or vice versa."

He leans in close, cold lips touching your forehead.

"Nonsense, darling. I'd clean blood off of you forever."

And he truly means it.

a/n: andddd that's another major Corio fic down! thank you to everyone who showed me love on my last Corio oneshot ("melting snow") and for those who answered my poll - dark soft! and possessive Corio won out but girldad!Corio also got a TON of love so I included it a bit here and will probably write a whole standalone fic with girldad!Corio as the concept. thank you again to everyone for remaining patient, I had writer's block for a bit and I've just had the most awful few weeks ever (mental health wise and life wise) so it was difficult to find moments to write.

as always, please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you enjoyed. the interactions is what motivates me to write! I hope you liked it hehe x

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Your brother's best friend teaches you pleasures you've never experienced before.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: dark themes (kinda?), james is kinda morally grey in this, james is nineteen, reader is eighteen, reader is sirius's little sister (no physical descriptions!!), innocent!reader - she has never had an orgasm, sub!reader, virgin!reader, mean dom!james, swearing, corruption, penetrative sex, fingering, nipple play, oral sex (m receiving), degradation, praise, spanking, slapping (sexual), choking, exhibitionism, almost getting caught, crying from sexual overstimulation, reader is hesitant in the beginning but not unwilling, bleeding from loss of virginity.

~ this is absolutely filthy. enjoy. 😩🫶 ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

"Siri?" you ask as you adjust the hem of your dress.

Your brother's attention leaves his friends and he looks at you, his eyes narrowing, "What are you wearing?" he asks and crosses his arms, surprise obvious in his tone.

You smooth a hand over the silk, "A dress. I-I have a date," you explain.

"A date?" James Potter, Sirius's best friend, interrupts as he turns around. You see a glimmer in his hazel eyes as your eyes find his and take him in; how his hair is damp from a shower, the way his shirt hugs his shoulders, and the round, black-framed, glasses on his nose.

James sends you a smirk, "I didn't know you went on dates, Y/n/n," he teases.

Embarrassment flushes your cheeks and Sirius slaps his hand backwards to hit James's chest and push him away a little, "Shut up," He hisses. Then, he looks you dead in the eyes, "Who is it?"

"Huh?" 

"Your date? Who. Is. It?"

"William. You know, my friend? You've met him," you explain, a little surprised at Sirius's worry. William is kind, he's funny and he's safe.

You know loving him wouldn't hurt you like other boys would. 

Unconsciously, you glance at James and when he sees you looking at him he asks, "The super skinny one?" He is obviously suppressing a smile, and Sirius's shoulders visibly relax.

"Oh," your brother sounds reassured, "He's fucking harmless." 

"Harmless?" you ask but Sirius must have lost interest in your conversation because he just shoos you with his hand and starts a conversation with another one of his friends. 

You want to scream.

"Hey," James senses your annoyance, "What's up?" 

You tilt your head up at him, a little embarrassed to ask him. James has always made you a little nervous but these last months have been simply torturous and you don't understand why, "I don't have any cute jackets to match with my dress and I wanted to ask Sirius if he has one I could borrow." 

James chuckles, "You can borrow one of mine," he hovers a hand over the small of your back and turns you to the stairs that lead to the dorms. You nod and allow him to guide you up the stairs. You sit on the end of James's bed, watching, as he rummages inside his trunk. 

James pulls out a burgundy bomber jacket, and holds it up to you for approval. "You know, usually you'd ask your date for his jacket," he mentions with a smile. You stand and with a small smile, take the jacket from his hands. 

"Oh?" 

"At least that's what happens when I go on dates," he winks and your heart sinks at the mention of him dating someone. You nervously play with the sleeve of James's jacket and avoid his gaze. 

"I mean, I wouldn't know—"

James pauses and frowns, "What was that?" 

"I said, I wouldn't know," you say less quietly, "I mean, I've never been on a date."

You look up and James looks you up and down and then slowly makes his way to your eyes again. "But you have done other things, haven't you?" Your heart pounds and he clarifies boldly, "You have been kissed? You must have—I mean a girl like you. You can tell me, I'm not Sirius." 

You turn your head, embarrassment pricking at your skin, until you feel his hand tilt your chin up at him again. When you look at him, his eyes, even while accompanied by the tenderness of his tone, look dark.

"Do you even know how to kiss someone, Y/n? Where your hands go? How much pressure to use? Where to touch?" 

You shake your head slowly but you can't tear your eyes away.  

"Oh, you sweet thing, you don't know a thing do you?" 

Your cheeks burn and your skin tingles but James soothes you with a soft sound and a warm palm resting on your cheek. "Shush, that's just fine, love. Do'you want me to show you? So you don't embarrass yourself tonight?" James asks kindly, but a shiver runs up your arm. 

You're frozen. James pushes some hair behind your ear and his face is so close to yours now. "I-" you whisper, "I don't know."

James smiles a little and his hands move down your arms to capture your wrists. He brings them up to his cheeks, "Here," his voice is smooth as honey as he allows you to touch him. "Good girl," he mutters when he slides your palm over his mouth and kisses it. 

"James," you practically whimper, confused but not disliking what's happening.

"Shhh," he interrupts you by leaning in and kissing your cheek and the skin around your ear.

You let out a breathy sound when James's hand wraps around your nape and he holds you just over his lips. Your hands fall from his face to rest at your sides as James looks into your eyes and after a moment, he turns his head and looks to the door, mutters a spell underneath his breath and you hear the latch lock. 

Then, almost instantly, his lips crash onto yours.

You're too surprised to push him away, not that you would, but you don't kiss him back until James reprimands you sweetly. "You have to work with me here, darling."

You nod, moving your lips against his, cautiously—unsure—and his hand returns to your nape as he holds you against him. His nose bumps into yours a few times and you feel clumsy as you mutter apologies in between your kisses.

James pulls away and stares at you, his pupils dilated and he smirks. "Open your mouth for me," he demands a little harshly as he tips your head back, "Come on. Wider."

You do as you're told and squeeze your eyes shut when he practically shoves his tongue in your mouth and kisses you again.

There isn't any tenderness in this kiss and you shift your hand to clutch at his shirt. You kind of want him to stop, but a bigger part of you wants him to continue.

To have him claim you as his.

You whimper as the back of your knees hit his bed and James almost falls into you. He disconnects your lips, admiring how swollen yours look, and spins your bodies around. 

James sits on the end of his bed and tugs your hips forwards, having your thighs straddle him. "This is how you kiss someone probably, Y/n." One of his hands runs into your hair as the other hooks around your back as he holds you against him.

He kisses you quickly, "Just like this," he murmurs and then slides a hand down to your neck and trails his index in between your breasts. 

"Go ahead, kiss me. Show me what you learned, my love."

You hold onto his shoulders, breath uneven as he looks at you expectantly. You shake your head. 

James fakes a pout and says, "What's wrong, are you embarrassed?" He starts to move your hips and your dress rides up. James slowly spreads his legs and with a soft moan, you land on one of his thighs only. He continues to move your hips in small circles as your panties rub against his jeans.

You shut your eyes as your insides twist, "James, I- I feel weird," you mutter and instinctively bury your head in his shoulder.

James is still your older brother's best friend. He's someone you trust and as your stomach tightens again you can't help but turn to him for some reassurance.

He cups the back of your head but starts to bounce his knee. "What feels weird?" he coos and presses his cheek in your hair, inhaling your scent. "You can tell me, darling," he reassures.

You squeeze your legs around his thigh and let out another whimper. "It feels weird. D-down there," you feel a little helpless as you cry quietly.

"Since you kissed me?" 

James suddenly pauses his movements and he holds you closer. He caresses a hand in your hair. "You're okay. Is this the first time your pussy feels like this?" he mumbles the question hoarsely in your ear and you cry a little harder. 

No one has ever asked you a question like that, or mentioned something so private in such an obscene manner.

You don't know what to think or say. 

"N-no?" you hiccup.

James kisses your temple. "Can you be more specific for me, darling? I wanna know how I can help you," he teases you.  

"I- mean - It happens sometimes. When I'm alone or sometimes w-when you're around," you admit in a whisper, "But it's so much worse now."

James just chuckles darkly and asks, "What do you usually do when this happens? Do you touch yourself?" 

You squeal when he bounces you on his thigh again. "N-no! I just let it pass. It usually passes," you sound desperate and when you hear his little sound of disappointment, you bite your lip to prevent yourself from bursting into more tears.

James groans.

Fuck, he shouldn't like this as much as he does but you're just so cute.

You feel James's hand wander up your sides until he reaches your dress straps and without hesitation, he snaps them. The top of your dress starts to slip and instinctively you sit up and cover your chest. 

Your eyes shimmer with tears, "James?"

James pulls your hands away. "Shh, I want to see something," he explains, his eyes never leaving your chest as he tugs your dress down so it bunches at your waist. Then, his fingers move around the skin on your back as he unclips your creamy-white bra and it falls to the ground.

You gasp when James cups your breasts in his hands and slowly teases his thumbs over your nipples. Your entire body shivers as the sensation moves to your core. You cry out and try to move away from him.

"This is so much worse than I imagined," James shakes his head and pinches your nipples until you moan in pain, "Poor thing, just relax and let me help you," he says, his voice sickeningly gentle as he moves you from his thigh to kneel in between his legs. 

You squirm as James quickly unbuckles his jeans and you look at him. "W-what are you doing?"

"Helping you," he fists a hand in your hair and moves you to him until his cock hits your cheek. James groans and instinctively, you open your mouth to take him. "Suck on that, my darling, you'll feel much better."

You do as he says, tears sliding down your cheeks every time he pushes in further and his cock hits deeper in your throat. You cough and struggle but James doesn’t relent. Instead, he fucks your throat with no mercy and as he coos praises in the midst of raspy moans, 

"Shit, you're doing so fucking good for me," he looks down at you through lidded eyelids and smirks, "You're making such a fucking mess," James points out the mixture of drool and pre-cum on the side of your mouth, almost dripping down your cheeks, and you flush with embarrassment. 

You want to defend yourself. Tell him it isn't your fault and that you're trying so hard to take him. You want to warn him that the pain in your middle hasn't disappeared and that it't much worse now. But you can't speak with his dick in your mouth. 

You start to tap on his thigh lightly, pleading with him through your teary eyes and James understands, "Rub your thighs together. Yeah, there you go," he chuckles, rubbing your head soothingly, and when you do and taunts you, "Such a filthy thing, getting your thighs all sticky because I said so. What would Sirius say if he saw you like this, huh?"

You whimper and close your eyes. You don't want to think about that now. However, James's hand suddenly grips your chin and he pulls his cock out of your mouth. "Don't do that. Don't look away from me." He turns your head harshly and admires the dried tears on your face, "Fuck, Sirius would have my head for this," he whispers. 

"Stand up." James orders and you scramble to listen. Your legs feel shaky as you stand in front of him, his head level with your lower stomach.

James hooks his fingers in the remaining of your dress and tugs it over your hips until it falls at your feet. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in, kissing your stomach. Sucking marks on your skin. 

He starts to play with the little bow in front of your panties and says mockingly, "How fucking adorable."

You stammer, "James, I don't know if w-we should."

"Shh," he says as his hand moves to cup your pussy, "You're okay. Just relax. You don't need to worry, sweetheart, let me take care of you."

You cover your mouth to suppress a moan as your eyelids flutter. This feels surreal, having him like this. You've wanted him for longer than you can remember, but it was only ever a fucked up fantasy. 

It definitely isn't a fantasy anymore.

James slides your panties down, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You feel insecure as his eyes roam around every curve and crease on your skin.

You have to bring your second hand to cover your mouth as well when James pushes his middle finger into your pussy. It hurts but when you squirm, he uses his other hand to steady your hips.

"Shit, you really are a virgin," he starts to move them in and out and you let him, the pain starting to feel like pleasure. 

After a few moments of James teasing you with his finger, you feel a weird sensation in your lower stomach. However, before it can come to a finish, your legs tremble and you almost fall over, "Woah," James sounds surprised as he catches you.

He pulls out his finger, feeling your hands squeeze around his shoulders, and looks up. He stands up and gently turns you around with him so he can lay you on his bed. He kneels in between your legs and spreads your thighs.

You look down with him and when you see the inside of your thighs absolutely soaked from your juices, you make a small whimper. 

In your mind you look obscene, dirty even, but James doesn't seem to mind, "You're so pretty."

He uses his hands to pull apart your folds and he presses a sloppy kiss to your clit. You moan and squirm.

When you hear him pull down his trousers and take himself out of his boxers again, you whimper. "Wait, please," you whisper and James stands over you, hooking his hands around your thighs and scooting you closer to his hips.

"Hush now," he lines himself up with your entrance, "I'm helping you so that when William fucks you, you're prepared for him." He chuckles but his thumb draws reassuring circles around your hips.

You gasp and feel tears slide down your cheeks, tasting the salt in your mouth, "I-I don't want William to fuck me," you say.

James pushes himself in and at the same time you squeal, he moans, "You're so fuckable though, baby. Shit, you're taking me so well I can barely control myself around you."

He squeezes his hand around your thighs, bruising your skin as he pushes into you. Your hands fist the sheet as James starts to pound into you with no mercy. 

"This okay?" he whispers, breaking the dominance for a crucial moment as he looks down at you with what can only be described as pure adoration in his eyes.

"Y-yes," you whimper, as overwhelmed as you are you feel so good.

"Where is my cock, hmm? Where is it?" He suddenly asks harshly as he brings a hand to your chin when you squirm, "Don't you move away from me."

James lightly slaps your cheek, "Answer the question," he snaps. You choke on your cries, barely recognizing the man looming above you. 

"Inside me?" You mutter.

"Where?"

"My p-pussy," you bite down on your lip as James thrusts harder and leans in to bury his face into your neck. You gasp as the pleasure intensifies.

"Good girl, fuck," he mutters and nuzzles his nose into your hair, "William might get your first date, but I'll always be the first one to have kissed your lips," James kisses you hungrily, "The first to touch you, to fuck you. And Merlin, you just love to be fucked, don't you? I can feel you clenching around me. You really are a filthy slut."

Suddenly, you hear the door handle rattle and your eyes widen. James pauses a moment but when he hears your brother's voice from behind the door, he forcefully crushes his hand over your mouth and sends you a dark look.

"Prongs? Open the door, I know you're in here!"

James looks down at you and smirks, "I'm fucking busy," he calls out to his friend, his voice strained as he slowly continues his thrusts. 

"Don't tell me you're wanking one out now?"

You blush when James laughs. Sirius tries the door again, "Is Y/n in there? I can't find her anywhere."

You squeeze your eyes shut. You're so scared your brother will find you like this. Naked on his best friend's bed. 

Merlin, what would he think of you?

"You just missed her. I think she left for her date," James answers with a smirk, still fucking you and hiding your moans and gasps behind his hand.

"Oh, alright," Sirius sighs and then, he slams his palm in the door as an indicator that he’s leaving, and you jump.

James looks down at his cock disappearing into you and waits a moment before groaning, "Come on, look at me inside you," he fists your hair and forces your chin down to look at your pussy. 

Your vision blurs as you see your juices mixed with a little bit of blood smeared on your inner thighs and under your ass. Your hands clutch at James shirt, legs trembling as you make small gasping sounds to his thrusts.

"Hush, you're okay baby. It's normal," James coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "It doesn't hurt anymore, yeah?"

You nod.

"Aren't you happy it's me and not William taking your virginity? Making you feel like this?" James says William's name with bitterness and punctuates his words with a harsh thrusts.

 He smirks, kneading your breasts and rubbing your nipples. "You look like such a brainless whore."

You moan uncontrollably when James pinches your sides as his hands travel to your pussy and he meanly slaps your clit.

"I've ruined you, baby. Made you so cock hungry for me, huh?" He rubs your clit harder and you start to sob and violently shake your head,

"James!" you plead, "It feels weird. I- something is h-happening."

James just smirks and wipes some drool from the side of your mouth with his thumb. "Aww, sweetheart, are y'gonna come for me?"

"I-w-what?" you mumble, embarrassed.

"You don't even know what that is, do you?" James groans, feeling you clench around him, "Shh, don't you worry. Just let it happen, okay? It’ll feel good. I promise.”

You moan when the pressure finally builds and your legs shake. James continues to fucks you through it until he feels you slip into full bliss and he finally comes inside you, leaving you a shaky blubbering mess from your second orgasm.

He leaves the bed and starts to dress.

You squeeze your thighs and move them around, feeling the stickiness from his cum, yours, and your blood. You shut your eyes and curl into yourself.

James turns to you and immediately shrugs off his shirt. He walks over and sits by your side, "Shhh, here," he pulls the shirt up and over your head, making sure to cover you up, and he kisses your cheek.

His hand runs circles around your thighs and when he spreads them again, his eyes soften when he sees your pussy. "Oh, my darling. What a filthy mess, hmm?" 

James walks to his drawer and takes out some tissues, which he uses to gently clean you. You flush with embarrassment as he touches your pussy again.

"William won't wanna fuck you if you're full of my cum," he says calmly

You stare at him with teary eyes. "I don't want William to fuck me. Please, James, don't let him," you feel so sore you can't even fathom someone else touching you.  

James's mouth opens but he only lets out a shaky breath. His hand comes to hold your cheeks and you subconsciously lean into his touch as he calms you down. "Okay, love. He won't touch a hair on your pretty head, ok? I promise."

You nod, eyes glossy and you lean into him—seeking his comfort after what happened. James hesitates a moment, his mind filled with guilt and fuzz and then he pulls you in closer to him.

"I- I'm sorry if I was rough on you, my lovely," he whispers into your hair, inhaling your scent and then kissing your hairline.

You hum, your eyes droopy from exhaustion and overstimulation. "It's okay, Jamie," you whisper, "I really liked it. You made me feel good," you say honestly and James smiles.

"Good," he kisses your nose, "You can nap now, love," he say calmly and pulls you into his lap, "I'll watch over you, I promise."

James knows you'll miss your date with William, but he doesn't care. You don't seem concerned either as your breathing calms and your eyelids flutter shut.

Yes, perhaps it is for the best you'll miss your date, James thinks, you're his now and he'll make damn sure he keeps you.

His darling girl.

[wannabelife]

nintendo switch – jww

pairing: wonwoo x fem reader

genre: smut

synopsis: "i want to try it out" it's what he says when you first came by his door. the game is still on full display in front of his face as he asks you to cockwarm him while he plays.

warnings: cockwarming, fingering, sex toy, mean dom wonwoo, nicknames, size kink, descriptive, degradation

a/n: happy wonwoo day for those who celebrate it ^^

"i want to try it out" it's what he said when you first came by his door. the game still on full display in front of his face as he barely spare you glance while playing.

"are you crazy? it won't fit if you dont prepare me first" you say, fighting back his crazy idea of wanting you to cockwarm him while he plays.

"just get naked" he says "bring our toy" he completes as you feel your stomach tingle with excitement and your core clench in anticipation.

you could never resist this man anyways so you have no other choice but to do as he says. you get the toy from your closet, getting your clothes on the floor on your way back to him.

he spares a glance at you, realizing your naked body, making him have a second look. he smirks, happy that you gave in. he rolls the chair back, tugging the wires on his hand, opening space for you "sit here, pretty" he says, stretching his legs open and hips up for you. you gulp, the line of his cock marking the casual sweatpants he's wearing to stay at home.

pulling your leg up, you sit on his thighs, facing him. he takes a look at your bare tits and back at the game screen "lay back" he demands, not looking at you, and you look around trying to figure it out. you get your hands at the table behind you, a bit unsure to lay your body back.

the game match ends and before you think he's letting the remote on the side and pulling your hips up with both hands. you yelp, gripping the table harsherly, but his hard grip doesn't let you fall or stumble, as he keeps you in place. your pussy is literally displayed for him as he eyes it hungrily, his hands caressing your sides, before his thumb is stroking your nipple.

"you're so fucking hot" he compliments, your core clenching not going unoticed by him "you like the sweet words, don't you, pretty?" he remarks, grinning up at you as your brows are already shutting in pleasure.

with his free hand, he scissors your folds, a gasp leaving your lips when he strokes up and down. sensing that you're not wet yet, he bring his index and middle finger to his lips, sucking and wetting his digits before getting right back in. it sliding easier now as he does his magic on you.

he reaches your clit, drawing slow circles at the muscle, a moan slipping out from your lips as he goes down again collecting your arousal to work on your sensitive spot as you keep moaning.

you whimper when he suddenly stops, your breathing rising in dispear. you look at him whining as he cleans his fingers on his shirt, getting the remote back before handing you the toy "imma play another one, take good care of yourself alone, got it?" he pecks your lips, before starting another play on the tv facing your back.

you feel your core clenching, asking for attention back, so you have no other choice but to do the job yourself. you get the circle toy on as it starts vibrating on your hands. you spread your folds, placing it at your clit "oh- my god" you moan out with the added sensation. wonwoo already occupied by the game in front of him.

you circle the sponge texture on it, your legs threatening to close and goosebumps spreading on your skin "fuck, im gonna cum like this"

you know he looks mindless, but you can see his chest rising, your sounds affecting him just as much. so you try to provoce "wonu? baby, please, i want to cum on you, please" you call him in between needy moans.

the toy is really doing wonders in you because you can already see and sense the wet spot you're leaving on his sweater pants. you get closer, the back of the toy meeting wonwoo's member too as he hisses under you, a proud smile adoring your face. he swears under his breath, both because of the feeling and because he's losing in the game, too distracted by you.

"pull me out, yn" he orders but you're so caught up on your job, sliding the toy on your folds that you don't even process "fuck, yn, behave" he grunts, his hand holding your wrist, unattaching the toy from your center. you almost sob, crying out the loss. he throws it to the side, it hitting the floor with a loud sound as he comes closer to your face "you made me fucking lose the game so don't test me and pull me out" he says in clenched teeth "now sit like a good girl while i play one more match, got it?"

"yeah" you almost whisper back to him with big eyes like a well-behaved girl.

you go to his pants, pulling it with your fingers, while he bucks his hip up to help you undress him. he's back at playing a new match while you pull his member on your hands. he's not hard yet but not flacid either, some place in between.

"sit" he orders, still not looking at you.

you contemplate because he's not fully hard yet, but dont say anything any further, too afraid of pushing his already short buttons. you grip his base, pushing your body to meet his member. the long size lets you have fun either way. you let the head hit your entrance, slowly thrusting inside, the burning feeling making you out of breath as you go further, sinking down on him, until you sit back on his lap again. your face finding the crotch of his neck as you catch a breath. your pussy keeps clenching trying to adjust to his size and you can also feel him twitching inside you, making it all even harder.

"good job" he praises "now wait until i win this one" he says and you want to cry, who said this would be fun? you just want to bounce on him or do whatever, this is actually torturing.

"wonu..." you moan "please, fuck me, i want you" you try to convince but he's still playing, a breathy laugh coming out of his lips.

"so impatient, baby. wait a bit" he grins "if you haven't made me lose the last match, you'd already have what you wanted, hm?"

you can feel his member hardening inside you and decide to help it out, clenching around him, if he's torturing you so will you torture him.

"fuck!" he curses, his dick hardening, the head making contact with your deepest spot now.

he doesn't let it slide, though. one of his hands leaving the remote to deliver a slap to your ass cheek "you never learn your lesson, do you?" his palm hits harshly, the sound echoing in the room as you moan loudly "i said to wait" he says.

he's already fully hard, and you have no other choice but to wait until he decides to fuck you. but that's quite too much to ask for you, if you're being honest, you're really fighting yourself not to ride him right here, right now. you almost instinctively press harder on him, your hips taking slightly motion as your clit spread over his core. you moan out the feeling, hearing him grunt under you. your fun is shortly cut out when his palm meets your ass cheek again.

"stay seated, haven't i ordered you enough?" he says in between his teeth. the anger getting the best of him as well as his impatience that doesn't go unoticed. thanks to your eagerness, he needs to fuck you as soon as possible.

he rushes himself to win the game, skillfully killing every other player that remains, and in a few minutes, the screen is lighting yellow, a big winner jumping on the background filled with horns and happy music. a loud tug is heard as wonwoo throws the remote control on the desk, picking you up with himself right after. you're still in him, and he has no trouble in carrying you two to bed, throwing your bodies on the sheets.

"you should learn to listen, brat" he says, already pushing both of your legs up and starting to thrust into you. you swear under your breath, your head thrown back as you get drunk in the amazing feeling of his bare cock pounding you.

he takes advantage of the view, quickly taking his hands to your throat. you look up, and his cold gaze is staring down at you, making your stomach tingles and your insides heat.

he picks up the pace, unattaching his hands from your throat to open up your legs wider. he hands your hips tightly with both hands, fucking you restless, soft moans and grunts leaving his mouth as you grip the sheets, moaning. your eyes watering a bit, the knock forming on your lower belly each time his core press over your clit when he thrusts inside. you pull him close by his forearms, your hands chasing stability anywhere on his skin. your fingers finding his locks, pulling it, trying to sign you're close because no single thought form on your brain.

"are you almost there, babe?" his nails dig on your skin, leaving red marks around it as you shake your head positively.

he gets closer to kiss you, one of his hands pushes your right leg to his shoulders and back to your throat. you almost scream, but his lips are able to silence you. his cockhead pounding on your sweet spot making your eyes roll back and your body tense. you stop breathing for a second before you whole body tremble under him, your cum wetting his cock as he keeps the pace, pushing himself over the edge.

"fucking bitch, creaming all over my cock like the good slut you are" he says, his cock twitching. you are in cloud nine, not even processing what's happening around. he takes out, bumping his length as he cums all over your thigh. he sits back on his ankle, head hanging low, feeling like its too much, as a few more strokes of white cum spreads over his abs.

you both stay where you are for a while, catching your breaths and getting back to reality. you are so done that you could nap right there if it wasn't for him. he comes closer, handing your face to make you look up at him.

"get up to shower, hm? im going to grab you a glass of water" he states, leaving a peck to your dry blumped lips, helping you get up and preparing a bath for you before bed.

[mangostarjam]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT I sent this to one other person and I feel like maybe you’d also vibe with this but PLEASE DONT FEEL LIKE YOU HAVE TO RESPOND OR WRITE ABOUT THIS I JUST LIKE SHARING THOUGHTS

So like Hoshina is lowkey possessive(not like scary kind but the kind where it’s like “hey that’s my gf wtf”) and lets say his s/o is a platoon leader and people have noticed that she has a bite scar where her neck and shoulder meet(maybe one of the rookies likes her oooooh 👀) and there’s rumors and NO ONE KNOWS HOSHINA HAS A MATCHING BITE SCAR ON HIS NAPE BECAUSE ITS ALWAYS COVERED BY HIS COMPRESSION SHIRT(and then Kafka notices in the bath ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE VICE CAPTAIN IS MARRIED) AND JOKES ON EVERYBODY BECAUSE HIS WIFE IS ALSO POSSESSIVE(or maybe she got fed up with his shit once and bit him back lol)

OKAY ANYWAYS I LOVE YOUR WRITING AND THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME PLEASE MAKE SURE TO REST AND DRINK WATER BYE

-🐌

bless you snail anon i was ignoring some hardcore writer's block and this jump started something in my brain

bathtime revelations — hoshina soshiro x f!reader, established (secret) relationship, reader is a platoon leader, some minor narumi slander (sorry buddy. love that loser but it had to be done), biting, marking, possessiveness, uhhhh hickeys, edging?? nothing descriptive though sorry not today, 1.7k words

"Did you get attacked by a kaiju there, platoon leader? That's a strange looking scar."

The remark is innocent enough. You've been a member of the Defense Force for ages, and it's only natural to have numerous scars and aching bones from all the missions and kaiju neutralizing. Especially since you're a platoon leader of the Third Division, and you've leapt into the thick of things time and again to help Captain Ashiro get the best possible angle for her killing shots.

It would be fine, except the scar in question is a neat ring of teeth marks at the juncture between your shoulder and neck, where you're sensitive.

"Oh... no, that's not. Um." Shit. You've taken some of the Vice Captain's newest officers for an afternoon training session, and they're all looking at you now as you fumble for an explanation that doesn't expose your relationship. "I didn't get attacked by a kaiju, don't worry."

"Eh?? But that looks like a bite mark, platoon leader!" Iharu's voice is loud. You frown at him.

"It wasn't a kaiju," you say firmly. That much, at least, is the truth. "Anyway, if you guys wanna stay alive with just as many battle scars as me, go run some laps!"

Whew. There's a murmuring grumble, but everyone obeys orders. The summer heat and humidity wears you out quickly, and in an effort to combat the drain, you've stripped down to a tank top and your uniform pants. The bite mark in question feels like a brand on your skin, a ring of slightly raised flesh that should blend in with your other scars except for the clear circle it makes. You watch the rookies run, but your mind drifts, thinking back to when you got that set of teeth marks on your skin. Your body warms at the memory. Stupid boyfriend with his stupidly sharp canines.

You snap back to attention as Kikoru and Reno jog past, their words floating towards you on the breeze —

"—looks like maybe human?"

"Definitely not kaiju. You think the platoon leader's still with the person who marked her?"

"Oh, we can't ask that. Hibino senpai will be devastated."

Oh, jeez. There's no way you can let your boyfriend hear anything about this —

"How's it goin', platoon leader?"

Shit. You turn to the Vice Captain of the Third Division and frown. "What're you doing here?"

Hoshina Soshiro smirks at you, taking the tiniest step closer into what most people would consider to be personal space. "Just checkin' on my lil' fledglings! They've still got breath to gossip, eh? Are ya lettin' 'em off easy today, platoon leader?"

"I was letting them run off some energy so they'd forget about this bite mark on my neck, you vampire," you mumble. Soshiro laughs, leaning just a bit towards you. The afternoon sun glints off his purple hair in sparkles that dazzle your eyes, though it's easy to get pulled into his orbit when he's so magnetizing. You catch yourself and bring your outstretched hand up to your face, rubbing at your nose instead of sinking your fingers into the fluffy strands like you intended.

"Sounds like someone's got a lil' crush on our fearsome platoon leader," Soshiro says quietly, shooting you a lopsided grin. "Not that I blame 'em since it's you we're talkin' about. Still, it'd be good to send a message, y'know? Should I refresh your marks tonight?"

Your face feels hot. "'Marks?' But only one of them is visible when I'm in uniform!"

"What about the bath? We should give Shinomiya somethin' to report, don'tcha think?" His low voice sends a shiver down your spine and you frown to hide how much it's affecting you. Your boyfriend tilts his head. "Fresh marks'll show 'em all you belong to me."

Something hot and sharp lances through you and you bite at your lip to hold in a whine at the words. "That won't work," your voice is breathier than you'd like, but Soshiro is watching you like he wants to eat you alive and it's thrilling and terrifying and not enough. "They won't know it's you unless we match."

He raises an eyebrow at that, but the corner of his lips twitch as he fights down a grin. "Good point, platoon leader. We should discuss this in my office later."

"You're a menace."

Soshiro's smile softens into something fond and he takes another tiny step closer, until the fabric of his jacket brushes against your bare shoulder. You inhale his scent — bright, woodsy, something intrinsically Hoshina Soshiro — and all of your muscles relax. "And you're too dang cute for your own good, my love. See ya later?"

You nod and salute as he walks away, biting down a silly grin as you watch him call out encouragements and teases to his rookies. They all respond with good cheer and an edge of fierce determination, and once Soshiro fully exits the training area you allow yourself to return to the task at hand. You know, possibly more than anyone else on base, how hard Soshiro works to take care of his officers. You aren't going to let him down.

... but maybe you'll die of embarrassment first.

"Platoon leader! Did you spar after our training session? I would've liked to join!" Kikoru says, coming closer eagerly as you begin washing up in the communal bath. Your hand slips along your leg as you jerk up in surprise and Kikoru visibly falters as she takes in your bruises.

"This was a... private session, Shinomiya. I'd be happy to spar with you another time, though." Your entire body is warm, and not from the steam wafting through the echoing room.

"Aah, yes, of course! Sorry to disturb you, platoon leader!"

You resume your scrubbing with a quiet snort, listening as her footsteps return to the corner where Akari and Hakua are clearly ready to pounce. The girls probably don't realize how much sound travels in the bath, but you can hear their hushed whispers and giggling as Kikoru reports back that you're covered in hickeys.

You press down on a few of the blossoming bruises between your thighs and snort again. There's no way these could pass as training bruises — they're too intentional, too close to your aching center where Soshiro paid special attention earlier in his office — without letting you reach your peak. Bastard.

He made sure to leave marks along your chest and neck and shoulders again, taking advantage of your tank top for its easy access to your skin. Only after begging and pleading did he finally remove his stupidly tight compression shirt for you to drag your nails down his back and shoulders, fingers fisting into his hair as he licked and sucked at your core. After he ripped away your orgasm, you made good on your promise and left your own marks on his skin, kissing and sucking along the strong column of his throat and shoulders and pumping him with your hand until he nearly came on your thighs. Two could play at that game, after all.

Your ears perk as you catch your boyfriend's name. "Vice Captain Hoshina says I'm improving rapidly," Kikoru says cheerfully, tossing her head back. She certainly has the right to boast — her combat power levels just keep rising. She's going to make both of you proud. "Someday I will beat him in a practice match!"

"I'd like him to spar with me," another officer giggles. "Have you seen his back? Defense Force men are really no joke."

You bristle automatically. You're used to it by now — Soshiro's hot — but it doesn't make it any easier to hear confirmation of the fact out loud. "What about Captain Narumi? He's got really nice arms!" another officer says.

"You mean Captain Ego?" The communal bath fills with laughter as the girls gossip. "He's good looking, too, but Vice Captain Hoshina in that shirt..."

You're done bathing and changing into your nighttime clothes when a loud commotion from the other communal bath erupts. You share a look with a few of the girls, but you take your time pulling on your clothes (Soshiro's shirt, your shorts, your panties mysteriously missing — though you're sure you'll find them safely tucked into Soshiro's own sleeping pants pocket later).

You come out of the changing room and blink. "Vice Captain, how could you?!" Kafka is wailing dramatically. "You've already beat me by taking my spot by Mina's side, but you're beating me in having a girlfriend, too?!"

"Hang on a sec, old timer! You've already got the 'childhood friend promise' with the Captain!" Iharu shouts. "Leave something for the rest of us!"

"My, my, what a fuss," Soshiro says, waving his fingers. You blink, but the vision before you doesn't change. Most of the men are shirtless, towels wrapped around their waists as they spill out into the hallway in their chaos, and Soshiro is no exception. You can clearly see the raised pink lines your nails left behind on his densely muscled back, even with the small clump of officers between you. "We're all gonna catch a cold standin' out here like this."

"Those bruises on his neck... they look... fresh..." Reno says, his bright gaze darting between his Vice Captain and your exposed neck. Belatedly, you swing a towel around your shoulders, but Reno's eyes widen and you groan inwardly. "The platoon leader has fresh bruises, too."

Soshiro turns and your eyes snag on the blossoming pink and purple along his neck and shoulders. A quiet satisfaction settles in your gut at the sight, and you can't help but grin. "Keep that up, Officer Ichikawa, and you'll end up getting snagged for the Investigations Unit."

"They look good on her, don't they?" Soshiro hums, raising an eyebrow as the officers put two and two together. He meets your eye from across the small group and smirks. "Ain't it nice, platoon leader? Matchin' with the Vice Captain?"

Your answering smile makes his face light up with a deep fondness. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

[lolahauri]

Can I request some head cannons of the SDV bachelors reacting to the female farmer in lingerie. Also the different styles each bachelor prefers. Descriptions are fine but you can use pictures too.

This kind of turned into more of just a "what they find sexiest on you" rather than just lingerie. hope that's okay! 😅

˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :What Sexy Outfits The Bachelors Love Most!

-> F/M, Lewd, Mild Smut, Example Pictures, Established Relationship, Short HC's <-

・❥・Alex

You in his gridball jersey + some sexy panties is a dream come true for him.

If he came home and saw you lying in bed in his jersey and a thong, he wouldn't hesitate getting on top of you.

Bonus points if your hair is in a ponytail, he'd love to fuck you from behind and pull on your hair.

Doesn't even take your clothes off either, just pulls your panties to the side and fucks you till your seeing stars.

He just loves seeing you in his jersey since it has his name on it, it's like a little reminder that you're his and only his.

・❥・Elliot

I don't think it's a surprise that I'm going to say he loves corsets and multi-piece lacy sets.

He loves how elegant and feminine they look on you.

Also loves how good your tits look being pushed up in a tight corset.

Would lose his mind if you wore a corset paired with some thigh-highs and a garter belt.

And some heels? 👀 He'd be sweating.

Takes each piece of clothing off slowly, one by one.

Worships your body and really takes his time with you.

Soft, passionate sex with him. >>>

・❥・Harvey

I think he would LOVE babydoll dresses.

They just look so cute and dainty! ^u^

Imagine making him breakfast in lingerie and he comes out see's you all dressed up.

Would gently come up and hold you from behind, sleepily whispering compliments in your ear.

He'd get hard so quick too.

Let him bend you over the counter and take you from behind. 🤭

・❥・Sam

I truly believe Sam would love anything you wear!

But he loves it most when you're in something that's cozy and comfortable for you.

Soo probably something like boyshorts or bikini panties and a t-shirt bra.

Though he may not care about the style of underwear you choose, he is a sucker for matching sets.

Def also knows about the unspoken "matching set = she wants sex" rule.

Of course he still asks first, but if he see's you in matching underwear, he gets excited immediately :p

Eager, but still gentle in bed.

・❥・Sebastian

He'd love both costumes and latex suits.

Maid dresses, playboy bunny bodysuit, nurse costume. Anything like that.

If he see's you all dressed up for him, he gets hard so fast.

And soo blushy n shy.

Bonus points if you're wearing heels or gloves.

Wants you to dominate him, esp in the latex.

Will have you ride him until your legs give out.

And when they do, he'll just pull you into his chest and fuck up into you until you're both exhausted and satisfied.

・❥・Shane

I think he'd be really into crotchless and see-through bodysuits.

Getting to see you all dressed up but still be able to fuck you in it?

That's Heaven for him

Also, like I've said before, he's an ass man. Of COURSE he'd love to have it easily accessible!

Will ask for an assjob or pussyjob.

If the chest is open on it too, he'll bend you over the bed, fuck you from behind and squeeze your tits.

Tries not to damage the lingerie, but he'll most likely get too excited and rough, making it rip.

But he'll offer to replace it at least!

[oddballwriter]

Whipped

Summary: A blurb in which Steven swears that he's not whipped for you.

Warnings: None really

Author’s Snip: I like the idea of all the moon boys being absolutely whipped for you while also denying it hard.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (request to join the list!)

'Whipped'

It's a word that Steven hates being called... even if it is a little true.

Okay, it's not like you made him like that. You don't make him do all of the things that he does for you like he's some sort of servant or trained dog. He's just polite and likes doing things for you. It's not him being whipped, it's a love language, he likes doing things for you.

Like holding the bags when you two go out shopping or to the grocery store. Your arms get tired and he's more than able to hold them since the body definitely has some muscle that can handle the weight. You can press the buttons and open the doors along with way. Sure, whenever you two pass a reflective surface you both look like every caricature of a couple where one is made to hold all the bags while the other person isn't holding a single one, and some people laugh. But it's not like that!

You don't tell him what to do or what to wear. Unless you're going out together because you both like to match and you have a keen eye on how to have anything in his wardrobe match your outfit. And you really do have a keen eye because one time you had told him to wear his "tan button-down shirt with the stripe patterns". He had two that fit that description and settled on one. But when he put it on you shook your head and said "No, not the one with two big stripes on each side," and clarifying that you meant the other one. So he changed into the other one. But that's not controlling what he wears, you just have a better eye. It's not being whipped if you're right.

But at least he doesn't do the part where he does as you say just because you told him to. He doesn't. He does not do that. All the times that he did was because you were busy with something. Okay maybe there's been a few times...

But it's called "acts of service"! It's a love language! It's not being whipped! He's just doing something for you because he loves you! And he hates it when Marc and Jake mention the time he went all the way to the home decor store because your favorite candle was running out and apparently it's only sold at that home decor store and you don't want a dupe because "They all smell wrong". He's not whipped! You just prefer Cherry Lemonade Sunset! And you wanted some chocolate too.

[uravitypng]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟

pairing: wolf hybrid denki kaminari x chubby cow hybrid reader

summary: denki kills and eats hybrids, you're his newest target... at least his target at the beginning...

word count: 3.8k words

a/n: this is actually quite messed up but i really like it, i've been writing this for ages!! i hope you like it !! please check the warnings before reading !!

content warnings: prey/predator, dubcon, smut, unprotected sex, knotting, yandere denki, stalking, manipulation, mentions of denki killing and eating people, blood (not descriptive), pet names, kidnapping (but lowkey willingly), reader is turned on by the thrill & danger, praise, degradation - mdni / 18+

cow hybrid reader and wolf hybrid denki!!! he's an actual predator and god you look so tasty. typically he goes for bunnies but you look irresistible. his yellow fluffy ears paired with a sleek tail that matches, along with a black tip end, resting against the side of his leg and a glint of a sharp tooth as he smirks disarming people who should be on high alert around him. slanted, hooded, golden eyes that scream impure desire. he's charming and friendly. just because he's a wolf hybrid it doesn't mean he's dangerous... he wouldn't hurt a fly... that's the last thought that runs through the bunnies heads who become his latest meal think at least.

denki drools when he spots you for the first time, he's seen cow hybrids before but none as beautiful and appealing as you. you're so soft and plump, dark patches litter your skin and your ears droop down the side of your face, two small horns at the top of your head just poking out of your hair too little to do any actual damage. always wearing short denim shorts and skirts with room for your small tail. overalls, dungarees and skin fitting button up shirts that leave little to the imagination. it's mouthwatering as he watches you bend down and tend to your vegetable patch. often twiddling your fingers whenever he spots you, he's been following you for days to know about it and he wonders if you can sense when he's watching you. he doesn't wait this long with other hybrids but he wants to watch you longer. he doesn't know why. he finds you fascinating.

one afternoon your hare hybrid friend visits your cottage in the middle of the forest. "i'm just saying you need to be careful all alone out here. hybrids have been going missing lately in the woods. no one has heard from alice in weeks and she lives closer to you than anyone else does."

your friend peers at you while you look away, instead focusing on your wooden table separating you two. you're not ready to look in his eyes yet, you know the concern will be evident. you glance at your lilies in a vase that are starting to wilt and your blue ceramic teapot with a homemade tea cosy covering the middle section that alice made you last christmas.

he frowns and crosses his arms, you can practically feel his annoyance and displeasure of you avoiding replying.

you take a sip of tea and finally fully digest the information, making eye contact with him. "i appreciate you looking out for me but i like it here. i don't want to move into town."

"move in with me then. i'm on just the outskirts. please, i don't want anything to happen to you." he tries to convince you but you don't budge.

"i'll be even more careful, i promise. i'll always double check the doors are locked and never go out after dark." you shut down the conversation and move on to how your sunflowers are growing quicker than normal this year. you don't want to move, you love your cottage, 'alice has probably just gone to see her family and forgot to tell everybody.'

denki watched as you bid your friend goodbye and he did not like the way you wrapped your arms around him on the doorstep, his taller body engulfing yours and he tells you to promise him you'll be safe. denki hated it. you're his prey, no one else is allowed to touch you.

alice isn't the only one that goes missing, hare doesn't taste nice. no one is allowed to touch you. his pretty heifer.

you unknowingly had denki's rapt attention, so much so that he ended up spraining his ankle on a tree trunk while observing you from the tree line. at that point he decided this little waiting game of his was done, he wanted to get it over with, now annoyed, you're not fast enough to run away from him even with his dodgy ankle and not fast enough to give him an exciting chase so he wants you gone. he does want to hear your voice close up and get you to trust him though, that's always his favourite part (even more than chasing). luring someone in the open, close enough for him to pounce.

today you ventured further in the forest than normal looking for berries to collect for the pie you're planning to make clutching a woven wicker basket tightly so you don't drop any berries, wanting to make it back home before dark just like you promised to your friend. also wanting to be home soon to start making your pie. you're planning to have an early night, you didn't get much sleep last night you swore you heard something outside but chalked it up to the wind playing tricks on you but the doubt still lingered, walking downstairs wrapped in a blanket as you triple checked you locked the doors.

even with a sprained ankle denki was still able to sneak up behind on you and surprise you, wolves aren't labelled as predators for nothing and he hasn't been following you for weeks without your awareness because of luck. "hey sweetheart," he's leaning against a tree bark and looking you up and down hungrily.

you jolt at the sudden voice and yelp turning around to look at him, startled at the handsome hybrid. you're no idiot though, you back away slowly, not taking your eyes of him. warnings from your friend blaring and running through your head. cautionary tales from neighbouring kids as children. your mother drilling into your head at a young age not to trust strangers, not to trust predators no matter how pleasant they seem. she told you stories about how many people still dehumanise hybrids, ostracising them from society. how it's rare to see none hybrids living in hybrid settlements but it still happens, love still happens, love conquers all. but predators... stay away from them. they will do anything in their power to get you alone and make you disappear. there is no such thing as love or friendship or kindness that a predator can feel towards prey, no wolf will love a bunny, no bear will befriend a cow.

"i-is there a problem sir?" you keep backing up, your back hitting the tree. you're cornered. he's faster than you and you know it, wolves are known for being good runners and you are notoriously known as a bad runner from anyone that knows you. you're not going to end up like one of those missing hybrids though, you'll find a way out of this, you're close to your house and you know not to trust a wolf. you're not going to be deceived...

"'sir'? i like that." he smirks and your face heats up. you're not going to be deceived...

"if you'll excuse me i have somewhere to be, someone is waiting for me." you try to keep your voice level and move around him.

denki slams his hand against the tree you're currently backed up against and growls, "don't think so babe," your eyes widen and he leans downs to breathe low in your ear, "why don't you talk to me instead. i get lonely and you're so pretty. i'll be better company than who ever you were planning to see." a shiver runs down your spine and before you can say anything else he crowds your space even more and presses his finger against your lips to stop you from talking again. with his other hand he's lifting your top up and stroking your waist gently.

you should resist. you should run. you don't move.

the voices of reason from your loved ones fade away as his words make you feel wanted and the way he's touching you makes you feel desired. instincts screaming at you, 'he's a wolf! this is a trap!' you ignore it. his hands on you just feel too good. you've never heard of wolves liking cows before, maybe he is just lonely because people don't trust him just because he's a wolf hybrid. you know what that's like, people assume things of you just because you're a cow hybrid.

denki smirks as he takes in your reaction, your shoulders slack and your body relaxes, 'adorable.'

you won't fight him now, you're going to be delicious.

denki digs both his hands on either side of your wide hips, keeping you in place, he doesn't want you to move and try to wriggle away. he breaths in deeply as the scent of your blood permeates the air from the way his sharp fingers from his paws are pressing into you.

you're physically frozen apart from a small quiver. a million thoughts flash through your head, 'this was always his plan, i'm going to die here.' he ignores your tremble and goes to bite you neck, tearing your jugular and killing you. his teeth grazes your skin and you unknowing gasp loudly making denki immediately freeze in his tracks because with that gasp comes a spike of a new smell and it's triggering his dick to harden.

his grip on you gets tighter and you whimper. he raises his head from your neck to look you in eyes in disbelief, "are you really turned on right now?" your mouth opens and closes, no words coming out. he swallows and his disbelief grows at your lack of a rebuttal or any answer, "i'm planning to kill you, you know?" everything is the silent and denki can hear your heartbeat loudly in your chest. "are all cows this fucking stupid?" more silence. denki lifts his head up to look at the sky and grits his teeth inhaling deeply before looking back at you. "jesus you smell so good."

he presses his leg in between your chunky thighs and you whine at the contact. denki groans and his eyes darken even more than they were. if any of his friends saw him right now they would be grossed out, it's not normal to want to fuck someone you're planning on eating. bakugou would tell him he's messed up in the head. maybe he's just horny in general, he wonders if sero is still single, sex with him is always so mindblowing. the thought of that makes him growl again...he doesn't want sero, he wants you, he needs you.

your eyes are cloudy and your blood is starting to drip down staining your skirt. denki glances at you and sees a dazed look on your face, "fuck it," he murmurs under his breath and rips off your underwear, disregarding your shocked shriek. he takes what he wants and he wants you.

he hurriedly unbuckles his belt and shoves down his jeans, pooling down at his ankles.

denki wastes no time slamming his cock into you and starts thrusting at a brutal pace. "feel so amazing, such a pretty little cow." tears run down your face as soon as he stretches you, it's painful and you've never taken someone as big as him before especially when no foreplay has happened. "too many clothes," he mumbles again and tears off your shirt, pulling your bra down and grabbing your breasts harshly, groping to his hearts content, occasionally pinching and flicking your nipples causing you to wince. your pussy warm and getting wetter, sucking him in every time he goes to pull out causing him to growl deeply. your moans get louder and the pain dulls into intense pleasure. little moos escape your mouth and it makes denki go even more feral, wanting you to keep making those sweet noises.

this whole time you haven't been speaking, you don't want to speak, you don't want to think about what will happen after this and after you had gotten used to the pace you stopped making any noises apart from a hushed sob or two. eventually one particular thrust leaves you squealing loudly mixed in with a loud moo. your head feels fuzzy, like its full of cotton wool and you're pressing your body closer to him and trying to match his pace he doesn't stop you, enjoying your neediness for him. "wan' more. need more. want you s'bad," slurring your words and hiccuping. denki is stunned by your attitude, this whole time you've been surprising him. picking up your plush thigh he wraps it around him higher and starts pushing into you harder. you scream loudly and try to hold onto his arms, losing your grasp as your body bounces on his cock. "lemme come," you beg.

"awe, you wanna come," denki teases you snickering, "think you deserve it?"

you nod your head frantically. "yeah, yeah, 'm good and pretty, jus' like you said."

he hums like he's actually considering it before answering "i never said you're good. i said you feel good. i might let you come later."

you start blabbering, fat tears streaming down your face as you beg and plead but he just smirks with a gleam in his eye. "i'll think about letting you come if you take my knot like a good girl." his pace becomes even harder than before and you feel something forming, it's enlarged, swollen, bulbous, that's getting bigger continuously smacking against you but not going in.

"knot?" you tilt your head confused. if your head was more clear you'd have an idea what it was, sometimes when you go into town you hear people talking and once you had heard about knots in passing.

"are you serious, are all cows this dumb?" he teases you and cackles.

pouting, you deny his accusation, "'m dumb, just don' know."

denki quirked an eyebrow, looking amused, "oh, when did you become so vocal?" he says playfully. "you'll find out what a knot is in a minute sweetheart."

wanting desperately to come you nod your head while your moans and ah's increase. "ssshit, gonna give it to you pretty girl," he groans and pushes his fat knot, ropes of cum spilling into and stuffing you full. a silent scream escapes your mouth and you lean against denki's lithe chest, a little moo comes out and you shake.

he growls at you telling you not to move after you start shifting and wriggling, unable to pull away from him and his knot. it's hard for you to keep still, you thought it was painful before but the larger stretch makes you feel like you're being torn apart.

as you lean against denki and pant heavily a light blush forms on his cheeks. in the back of his mind he's thinking about how he wants to wrap his arms and never let you go. he's brought back to reality as he hears your sobs and his eyebrows furrow. it shouldn't matter to him in the slightest that you're in pain, it's his plan that in the next hour you won't be breathing but he doesn't like it...

"want me to make you come now sweetheart?" he soothingly asks you. in between sobs and small cries you tell him you want to come and he lets you. "you've such a good girl. you've been such a good cow. so obedient. cute little heifers get to come."

being plugged full of his cum and his cock still hard and throbbing in you, he grabs hold of your pillowy thighs and spreads them further apart, lifting one up to perch it around his slim waist after slipping down his leg previously from hard thrusts shaking your body. his other hand going down, unknowingly he retracts his sharp nails to make sure he doesn't hurt you at all, and presses against your clit, making figures of eight, at the same time grinding into you and gyrating his hips.

denki can't stop his groans as he feels you clenching around him. he speeds up, wanting to feel you come around him and his knot.

you arch your back and your eyesight goes starry, you moan as you climax and denki helps you ride out your orgasm. denki groans again feeling you come undone. cunt now puffy and swollen. the pain begins to dull after such an intense orgasm but you still clutch onto denki's top tightly. he sees that you're still in pain and frowns, caressing your soft skin in a second attempt to calm you down and relax you.

there's so many thoughts running through his head right now as he holds you, thinking about how beautiful you are and how you make his heart skip a beat. he thinks about your cute patchy skin and supple body that feels so heavenly. thinking about the judgemental comments from people if they saw what just happened, and people could, neither of you tried to muffle your voices and you're out in the open. thinks about if he's starting to change his mind about you... thinking about what he was planning... it would be a waste of a couple weeks of watching you but he's thinking about how if anything did happen to you he'd be gutted. he thinks about how if he saw another hybrid try to hurt you he'd be furious. he'd make them pay. he would want to protect you, keep you safe. make sure you're his... 'safe? mine? what am i going on about. i don't think i'll go into the forest again for awhile... i'll stick with bunnies from now on...'

he's jolted from his thoughts as you copy him, tenderly tracing circles along his hip. denki intakes air as he feels the tender touch, almost lovingly, it nearly makes him cry with how you're touching him. your mind is completely blank and your face displaying bliss from the aftermath of sex. you're so pliant right now, he could just take you, no one would notice, you'd just be another hybrid that's gone missing in the woods. you wouldn't even fight him.

denki starts talking quietly, making it very clear what he says is for your ears only which makes it all the more sweeter and he tells you that you're beautiful and asks about the berries you were carrying and which berry is your favourite. he whispers to you about how he sprained his ankle earlier and little stories and anecdotes stuff like how he was once electrocuted when he was a toddler holding an umbrella in a thunder storm and how he lived surrounded by non-hybrids a lot of his life but he's still wary of how they might have turned on him at the drop of a hat, he carries that anxiety with him even now, hidden but still there. he lived there before he found his safe haven, his friends he met, hybrids like him, he called them like-minded and you weren't really sure what he was referring to.

you hum listening to his stories and press your body against his even more due to getting cold from the lack of clothes you were wearing and the sun that's staring to go down.

after a while of more of his stories you ask, "can we kiss?"

"huh?"

"we haven't kissed this whole time and i think we should."

he bursts out laughing and accuses you for only wanting to kiss him because of his teeth which you vehemently deny causing him to laugh more. "alright sweetheart, i'll give you what you want." tilting your head up he kisses you delicately before evolving into something more hungry, his tail swishing softly and languidly behind him as he licks into your mouth, tongues intertwining, and teasingly trails your bottom lip with his teeth.

his knot begins to soften and he knows soon he'll have to pull out. he holds onto you tighter not wanting to let you go and that's when he's made up his mind. he's not going to let you go. you have no choice.

you whine and he hisses under his breath as he takes his cock out and watches his cum drip down your thighs, wanting to get you both home as quick as possible so he can go down on you and feast on your combined taste. denki holds onto your waist to keep you from falling over, your knees wobbly from standing in that position for so long. "i've decided what i'm going to do with you." you gulp and try to stay calm, at least you've had great sex before dying. "i'm keeping you." he grins at you.

"w-wait what?" you ask confused.

"i thought i was gonna to eat you." he explains and you nod your head gathering that was your demise. "but now i want you as my cute little girlfriend."

you're stunned, genuinely speechless. "i have questions... can i ask questions?" you request timidly.

'cute,' denki thinks before smirking and teases you replying, "maybe later, first lets get home."

you aren't refusing to leave with him, it's not even because you're worried it's your only option, it's that you want to leave with him. you know how wrong that is, on multiple levels, but somehow you want to trust him and put your faith in him. you want to think he sees you differently than before or differently to others. you see him differently too, not just during sex but afterwards too, all those words exchanged and chaste touches, you want more. it's wrong... but that doesn't mean you don't go willingly with him.

if you knew what denki did to your friends you wouldn't be compliant. if you knew the extent of what he's done you'd prefer to die and be with your friends but denki will make sure you never find out, he'll never let you out of his sight.

denki licks his lips and you panic worried that even this last minute was a ploy to get you to completely let down your guard but he stares at your bare chest. before you can have a reaction to his stare he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, fixing the rest of your clothes the best he can, his hands hovering in between your breasts. "don't want anyone looking at what's mine."

he holds onto your hand and walks in front of you in the direction of his house. "i'm kaminari by the way. you can call me denki. you can also stick with 'sir' if you want." he smirks and turns to look at you causing your eyes to widen as he mentions the use of sir. "this entire time i never told you my name sweetheart, i can't believe i didn't tell you or you ask about it."

"that never crossed my mind, i was more concerned about being eaten." you say seriously and denki chuckles.

"understandable sweetheart. i told you mine so it's your turn. what's my pretty girlfriend called?"

[luvfy0dor]

“And My Daddy Tells Me I Light Up His World ♡” Dad!Bsd Drabbles ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Chuuya Nakahara, Osamu Dazai, Fyodor Dostoevsky

Warnings; Line breaks between indented paragraphs mean new scenarios, girl dads, d/n- daughters name, s/n-sons name, p/t-parental title for reader

Description; a couple different scenarios, 2 for Fyodor, 1 for Dazai, 1 for Chuuya

A/n; just so u guys do know I giggle every single time I type out d/n, also also I've got a req still about dad Fyodor in my inbox but I don't know why it's so hard for me to write it 3: I'll get it out ong, im so sorry dad fyodor anon </3 consider this tribute to you 3: also next post's gonna be for the event! Had to rewrite it.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

Fyodor stood in the kitchen, accompanied by his young daughter sitting at the dining table. In his hand was a letter to Nikolai, written a week ago that he had finally decided to mail. He grabs an envelope before rummaging through drawers while his daughter colors idly across the room. She peers up at him from her spot and hops out of her chair, coloring paper in hand. "what're you looking for, papa?" She asks, looking up at him with her e/c eyes, the ones that matched yours perfectly. He smiled at her and closed the drawer he was looking through. "Just a pen, malyshka. Do you know where I could find one?" He asks her, looking down at her. She nods and fetches one of the pens from her big bag of coloring supplies, digging through it for a quick second before returning to him with her arm outstretched and a glittery pink gel pen in her small hands. "This is okay, right, papa? Who's the letter going to?" He takes it appreciatively and writes out Nikolais name and address. "Uncle Kolya, and any pen you give me will do, sweetheart." He gives the pen back to her and ruffles her hair. "Oh, uncle Kolya will just love it, then! I'm pretty sure his favorite color is pink. I'm gonna color this for him so that the next time he comes over he'll have a present from me!" She says with excitement, skipping back over to her seat at the table to resume her coloring. "Oh, ofcourse, d/n." After Fyodor mailed the letter, he soon got a response from Nikolai expressing his disappointment over the letter not being fully written in pink gel pen, which was backed up by his daughter as well.

You stood in yours and your husbands bedroom, buttoning his shirt for him while he watched the numbers flicker and change on the alarm clock on your nightstand. Your daughters school was hosting a daddy-daughter dance and your daughter insisted on Fyodor taking her. He agreed obviously, but he felt unfamiliar with such things, after all, he'd never experienced a daddy-daughter dance in his childhood. You gave him a smile once you buttoned his shirt and grabbed the only tie he owned off the dresser. "You look so good, Fedya. Like a prince." You said with a smile, leaning in to kiss the corner of his lips. He hummed and guided your chin with his fingers to kiss his lips completely. "Just a prince? Not a king?" His eyes were half lidded as always and you could make out a small smile on his face. "Alright, fine, a king." You finished tying his tie for him and left it slightly loose around his neck, knowing he was never really fond of how tight they could be. "Perfect, that would make d/n our little princess." Almost as if summoned, her footsteps are heard pattering down the hallway in her cute little flats that you got for her. The dress that she wore was adorned with puffy, mesh layers on the skirt and some gemstones on the top. "Papa, are you ready to go yet? " she asks, walking over to his side and examining his outfit thoroughly and gasping excitedly. "Papa, your tie matches my dress!" She says, pointing out the same colored material. "It does." He picks her up with a smile. "Do I look pretty?" She asks, a big, toothy grin on her face. He laughs and nods.

"Absolutely, now go say goodbye to p/t." He says, putting her down onto the ground so she could hug you and bid you a goodbye. "Bye, p/t!!" She says, squeezing you quite tightly. You hug her back and kiss her head, looking down at her. "Bye, sweetheart, I love you. Oh- wait! Before you go I want a picture of you and papa." You fish your phone from your back pocket and open the camera app as she backs up and hugs her papa just as tightly as she held you. Fyodor places his hand on her back while they both smile for the photo, but wince all of a sudden as your phones flash goes off. "Oh- whoops, I forgot to turn the flash off- for real this time." They both pose again, d/n giggling at your small mistake. You snapped it and then examined it on the phone before your daughter started pleading to see it. Fyodors smile was as charming as always, both in person and in the photo, and your daughter looked absolutely adorable in her poofy dress. Once you had shown her and she was satisfied, she quickly made her way out of the room, holding the skirt of her dress by the handfuls. Fyodor laughed at her under his breath before he leaned in to kiss you once more before he left, letting his hand linger on your hip like his taste did on your lips. "Bye, Fedya, I love you, have fun." You grin, to which he lets out a sigh. "I will, I love you too, Moya Lyubov." He pulls away and follows the young girl out of the bedroom. You smiled to yourself as you heard him call from down the hallway, "Wait, malyshka, don't go out the door so fast", followed by the prompt creeking and closing of the door.

Osamu Dazai ★

No one got the memo that it was apparently 'bring your kid to work's day', but everyone had to adjust rather quickly when Dazai pulled up to the Ada with a young child on his hip, oogling at any shiny object in its sight. Kunikida was the first to ask about it. "Is this another orphan that you've decided to pick up off the streets? It's too young for a job here." Dazai rolled his eyes. "For your information, this is my son. His babysitter has come down with the flu." He clarifies, walking past everyone to his desk and sitting the one year old on his lap. The baby leans towards him and reaches for the tassels of his bolo tie, grabbing and pulling on them to his mouth. Dazai laughs and gently pulls them out of the little boys grasp. "No, s/n, you can't chew on those." His son pouts and coos out some baby nonsense, starting to look around for some other entertainment, only to find nothing that interests him. He looks up at his dad with his big brown eyes and pouts, huffing and gripping his long jacket in his chubby fists. "Papa, 'ome." He babbles, missing the comfort of yours and Dazais house and preferring to be there over the agency. "I know, s/n, believe me. I'd rather be at home than sitting here with these people." He says, sighing and shaking his head. "Just keep him from crying." Kunikida says exasperatedly while writing a report from the last case he worked on for Fukuzawa. Dazai hums in acknowledgement and turns the baby to face away from him, keeping him sat on his lap. "My boy doesn't cry, he's nothin' like those other babies." He says with a grin, grabbing a pen and wrapping his son's hand around it and helping him drag it acrossed the closest paper on Dazais desk. "Yeah, just get a feel for holding the pen and as soon as you can write on your own, daddy's never doin' his own reports again." He grins. "Your son isn't doing any paperwork for the agency until he joins. And that still doesn't mean he'll be doing yours." Kunikida says from his desk. Dazai shakes his head and lets go of his sons arm. "Ugh, whatever... Kunikida doesn't gotta know if I bring it home though." He whispers to the boy, evoking an unaware giggle. Kunikida let out a knowing huff and gave up on trying.

Chuuya Nakahara ★

After his little girl had asked him on numerous occasions for a trip to the fair, he was finally able to get some time off and go with you and her. He weaved through the crowds with her on his shoulders and his hand in yours while trying to decide on one final game for your daughter to play before you left.. "Papa, look! They have fish!" D/n exclaimed, pointing at the booth that ran the famous goldfish game that parents never want their kids to see. Not Chuuya though. He's nothin' like y'all. Chuuya didn't mind the idea of having a fish for his daughter, even if it was him who had to feed it every day and clean it's tank regularly. He smiled and looked over at you with eyes that asked you if you were in mutual agreement of letting her try to win a goldfish. You smiled back at him and nodded, noticing your daughter watching the two of you exchange your glances. "Alright sweetheart, let's go get ya one of them fish." He walks over to the stand with you, lifting her off of his shoulders while you handed the carnie a $5 bill for a basket of ten ping pong balls. Chuuya watched d/n try to toss the first five into one of the colorful mini-fishbowls and miss every single one, so he grabbed a ball and tossed it, getting it into one of them. The man running the game cheers and heads to get d/n her fish, but she ends up getting two of the last four balls in on her own, nearly shrieking in excitement. "Daddy, that means I get three fishes, right?" She excitedly asks, her hair bouncing in the pigtail style it was pulled into. "Yup, that's right." He smiles at the carnie when he hands the fish to him and mutters an appreciative thank you, patting his daughters back and telling her to do the same. "Thank you! P/t, can we get them a tank at home?" She asks, still super hyper from her triple win. You laugh and nod, holding two of the fish so Chuuya doesn't have to hold all three and your daughter if she chooses she's too tired to walk to the car. "Yeah, we'll stop at the pet store to get you a nice tank for them." You tell her, nodding for her to follow you and Chuuya grabbing her hand so she doesn't get lost. "What do you say to daddy? He got you one of those." You say with a small laugh and she looks up at her dad with big, adoring eyes. "Thank you, daddy! Ahh, I'm so excited for my fishes!" Her misunderstanding of the plural version of fish also makes you giggle a little. "You're welcome, princess. Y'gonna take real good care of them? Remind me to feed 'em every day?" He says, guiding you guys through the parked cars towards your own. "Yup! Every single morning! But what're we gonna do when I'm at school and you and p/t are working? What about their lunch?" She frowns. "Fish don't need lunch, don't worry." He reassures her and hands you the third bagged fish for a moment while buckling d/n into her seat. "Good, I don't want them to starve!" She says. Chuuya laughs under his breath and closes the backseat door, pulling out a cigarette to smoke before taking the sorta-long drive to the pet store and home. Now he had three more responsibilities, but it made his baby happy, so he really didn't mind having to take care of three more animals in addition to his original one.

A/n; yawns speed ran these, wrote Chuuyas in like,, 12 minutes, it's not proofread (js Chuuyas) but hopefully it works (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ also I'd like to come out and say ion proofread my own stuff, I have my friends do it (I love you guys MWAH)

[libertyybellls]

I DON'T KNOW WHY I BITE ?

pairing; finnick odair x f!reader

summary; few years after winning his games, finnick endures the trials of being a victor and all he needs is a helping hand.

contains; ANGST, comfort, descriptions of forced prostitution, descriptions of gore, murder, typical hunger games mortality etc etc. not proofread… ever

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

the room once filled with a bond you could not quite replace, is now empty, gray. it lacks the golden boy who brings light to every aspect of your life- and it has been for two months now.

you know where he is, what he’s doing, and who he’s with. you know the light of his soul will be snuffed away by the calloused deceiving hands of the capitol- their everlasting appetite to claim their control over citizens and victors alike.

you almost dread the sound of your front door unlocking. your mind manifesting his misery would be long gone- begging to a higher power that he will be okay- that the pillars of his body are not crumbling in on itself.

nevertheless, as you near the front door- you see it in his eyes. he almost looks like the same 14 year old that got thrown into a death match and came out with two legs and two arms- but this time his legs can’t carry him any longer, his arms are practically hanging off his tired body.

the door is still open behind him, the chilled air seeping its way into your once warm home. his shoulders are slumped, there is no light in his eyes- only that small tinge he adorns when he is with you.

you want to pull him into your arms, to kiss the disgust off of his features, to show him he is unworthy of this muck treatment, that he is the only light that cannot be choked out, the anchor that is not misplaced, he is right where he needs to be now.

there’s a silent understanding, you can see the falter in his steps as he tries to walk towards you- so close to disintegration you can almost see his seams falling apart one by one.

you meet him halfway- pulling him into you- now you must be his pillar. you must cover his ears, quiet his thoughts.

his tears coat your shirt, your fingers run through his scalp. he wants to crawl out of his skin. he can still feel a touch that isn’t yours- it sets his nerves alight.

why won’t you leave me. his mind screams- but his voice can’t carry these words. leave me here, let me rot.

you can feel him self destruct, his knees fail and now you are kneeling infront of his vulnerable frame. you want him to look at you, to see what you see, but who are you to ask for more?

but all he sees is grief, blood from kids his age- even younger, he feels hands all along his chest- his back, he smells roses- luxury- a scent that isn’t home, he tastes metallic blood from his lips- gnawing from anxiety, he hears the praises- he hears that he’s special, that he’s so humble, what a handsome young man he is.

“i wish i could be good.”

you can’t see his face, you are glad in a way- you don’t think you’d be able to take it. “you are good finnick,” your own tears fall. “if anything you are good.”

you want to yell these words, scream them at him. so inconsiderate of you- but how dare he not see this is not his fault? a puppet has no control over his own arms.

finnicks mind screams more at the capital than himself now. your tactics have worked. you have taken every last bit of my innocence away. you control me. he begs to be left alone, he begs to be so pure and unsuspecting again.

you both know his fate, you know where he’ll be in a few years. you know that your love alone cannot keep him here- however strong. every inhale feels like poison- but he listens to you murmur as you rub his back, telling him to breath.

you see his eyes now, he tries to drink in your gaze- he wants it to be the last thing he sees, except less concerned, less worn, less worried. despite his thoughts only ever consumed by you, he looked pained- he looks as though he is elsewhere in his mind.

“nothings gonna hurt you now” sanity is a sheltered lie but you would rather surrender your wits than your boy. your fingers dance up and down his back now- erasing the sinful marks left laying in his mind.

-

so short so technically a blurb but wtv….

[mochinomnoms]

if you're still accepting random asks and such while you're bored-- i'd love to see something about kalim! if you want to go the extra mile, i'd eat UP anything you have for that one free use thing you mentioned awhile back...

I don't think I got the strength for something fully smutty rn, but I can do a bit of suggestiveness~ also cw for my use of arabic i still cannot figure out a good source for terms of endearment and shit

Being the one and only spouse of the head of the Asim family was a privilege that was exclusive to you for the last few generations. From what you gathered from your new mothers-in-law, three to be exact, the Asims were notorious for being indulgent and needy, more so as lovers.

“They're spoiled!” Farah laughed, her voice having a soft, sweet sound to it. She was currently on the phone with you as your other two mothers were tending to Kalim's younger siblings.

“Practically insatiable, trust me when I tell you, habibi, that my son is going to tire you out. He's practically his father's twin—”

“Aaah!”

“...Habibi? Are you alright? What was that?”

You clenched the phone in your hand, the other tightening in Kalim's hair as licked his lips clean from your fluids. Your darling husband nuzzled into your thigh, pressing soft, sweet kisses in contrast to what his hand was currently doing to you. Or inside you, was a more apt description.

“I'm...fine, just—ACK!” You choked on a high-pitched moan as Kalim bit into your hip, kissing the dull mark in apology as he trailed more kisses up your belly to your torso as he pushed your shirt up and up.

“Are you sure? You sound like you're in pain—”

Like plucking a round, plump grape from the vine, Kalim delicately plucked the phone out of your hand as you buried your face in his neck in embarrassment.

“Hi Mama!” Kalim cheerily greeted his mother, still going at you like he knew just the right buttons to push to make you melt. In his defense, Kalim could be very good at things if you let him practice enough. And he'd practiced on you, thoroughly.

“They're a bit busy at the moment, I'll have them call you back later, okay? Bye!”

You could make out the concerned voice of Farah raising her voice at him as Kalim hung up, still blissfully smiling.

“K-Kalim, you can't just—Uugh—hang up on your—fuck.”

You let out pathetic, soft whines as you clutched onto Kalim's shoulders and dug your nails into the silk fabric he wore. Cutely, the color and pattern matched your own, or at least the one that he'd slipped off of you earlier while you'd been on the phone.

“It's okay, I just needed you for a little bit, just a little bit!” Kalim whined, burying his head into your neck and fluttering kisses again.

“Aren't you tired from last night? This morning? After lunch?”

Kalim pulled away, a cute pout on his lips as he shook his head.

“Never could be tired of you, Albi! Now come on, it'll be real quick this time, I promise!”

Taking a deep breath, you sighed, face going warm as he gave you a lovestruck smile. Finally, he took the hand that was working you back and licked it clean, with you staring.

You really should've given him more credit back in school, he could be cheeky when he wanted to.

Though, with how sweetly who looked at you with those deep red eyes, so full of love, you can't help but want to indulge the spoiled man in any and every way possible. It was no wonder that Jamil's always mildly disliked you.

“Fine, but we go back to the bedroom, I still have a crick in my neck from when you took me over the table—AH!”

You yelped as Kalim excitedly dragged you to the bedroom, again, for the nth time today.

I pray that I can walk after this time, I don't want to deal with another round of servants attending to me cause my legs are jelly.

[angeljeonjk97]

BodyWork || Bell #1

Jungkook x reader

friends to lovers

18+ (fluff, smut)

warnings: mentions and descriptions of violence, mentions and use of drugs and alcohol,

Jeon Jungkook is not the same 19-year-old boy you used to know. Fame has really matured him, in more ways than one.

“You already know how I like it baby”

You sit behind the desk of your dad's gym, playing a mobile game on your phone, waiting for the last person to leave before you can lock up. It was now dark outside, the entire sky was pitch black, not even a star in the sky. Your head jolts up at the sound of the male changing room door opening.

A tall, muscular man with jet-black hair and an arm covered in tattoos wearing a plain white t-shirt and black basketball shorts, emerges from the opening door.

He glances over at me behind the black-painted desk,

"Yo! Where's your dad?" he asks you, throwing a towel over his shoulder.

Jungkook is a famous boxer and has been for the past 5 years, and the gym that your dad owns just so happens to be where he trains. Your dad has owned this boxing gym for as long as you can remember and many professionals have trained here, but none for as long as Jungkook.

"Oh, he left already," You respond after realising you were probably looking at him for a bit longer than you should have, "Why?"

He casually walks over to the desk, leaning against it slightly to speak to you.

"He said he wanted to tell me something but, it obviously wasn't that important," Jungkook pauses before taking a sip from his bottle that rested in his right hand.

Your dad has always been the type to never wait around for anyone. He will do what he wants in his own time, without thinking of others most of the time. That's not to say he's selfish or anything but he can be quite... let's just say... assertive sometimes.

"How's training?" you place your phone down on the desk, placing your elbows on the platform with your chin in your left hand, looking up at Jungkook's muscular frame.

He scoffs, standing up straight to face you properly, he spans his arms out to his sides, with a cocky smirk on his face,

"I'm gonna win, so easily"

You roll my eyes and smile at his painfully obvious act. Despite his skills and how he hasn't lost a single match in the past 3 years, Jungkook is one of the humblest people you know. You both have known each other for 8 years and even though he's 26 now and is known pretty much all over the world, he hasn't changed at all.

He laughs at your response before getting closer to the desk again.

"You need help locking up again?"

"Nah, I should be fine," You reply, swivelling around in the black leather barstool, jumping down and pulling the keys from your pocket, proceeding to lock the cash register up.

"You got a lift home?" The black-haired man asks watching you as you walk from behind the desk and towards the changing room doors.

"I'm taking the bus home,"

"The bus? Why didn't you ask me to take you home?"

You turn your head to him behind you, flashing him a small smile.

"I didn't want to bother you, Kook, you've already worked hard today," you answer honestly, looking at Jungkook as you walk up the stairs. He follows behind.

"Oh come on. I've told you before to ask me if you need a lift home, buses aren't safe at night," He raises his voice a little so you can still hear him, "I'm driving you home."

You stop what your doing before looking at him with a disappointed look.

"Jungkook, I'll be fine-"

"No, I am driving you home," He cuts you off, crossing his arms across his chest. He goes silent for a bit as you don't respond to him before he breaks it again with a declaring tone, "I'm going to my car, if I don't see you in the passenger seat next to me in five minutes I'm dragging you out of here."

His voice fades as he begins making his way back down the stairs. You shake your head with a smile, knowing that you can't say no to JK.

After a few minutes, you make your way out of the gym, locking the doors behind you and pulling the shutters down afterwards. Before you turn around, you hear the sound of a car pulling up behind you. Of course, when you turn around it's a black Mercedes, that had Jungkook sitting behind the steering wheel. you open the passenger door seating yourself next to him, in which he sets off a few seconds later.

Once he parks up outside your apartment complex you turn to Jungkook,

"Thank you again, kook, but like I said, you don't have to be my taxi driver all the time. Someone might see you"

Jungkook shrugs back, his tattooed arm leaning against the steering wheel, "So what if someone sees me? It's not like you're in here giving me a blowjob or something"

You slap him on the arm with the back of your hand, giving him a disapproving look. He laughs back casually as these types of crude jokes are common coming from him.

"I'll walk you in," Jungkook says as he swings his car door open before you are doing the same.

Making your way up the stairs Jungkook remains behind you the entire time, looking up through the hole that the stacked up stairs, all leading to different floors, created.

Reaching your apartment door, you pull your keys out from your pocket, rattling them in your door, as Jungkook watches over you from behind.

"You coming in?" you ask looking up at him from behind innocently.

"Aw nah, not today y/n. It's late and I gotta be up early again tomorrow for training," He gives you a guilty look, glancing into your apartment, "I promise I'll be over soon though"

You give him a sad smile, remembering how much time he used to spend at your place with you. Because of his big fight in 2 months, he's been busy since the beginning of the year and hasn't spent as much time with you as you had liked, but you're not mad. You understand how tiring training can be, plus it's not like you two don't hang out at all anymore, you still make time for each other when it's possible.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then?" You respond, walking into your apartment and facing him again.

"Goodnight y/n"

index-next->

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note:

hiii, I hope you all liked this chapter. I know not a lot has happened but I promise it'll get better from here. This was just a little introduction to y/n and Jungkook's relationship and lore explaining. I'm so excited for this new fic so I hope you're all just as excited as I am. Please look out for when new chapters come out!!!

[albertdabuttler]

Masked Adversary | D.L.

Pt. II

MASTERLIST

this fics masterlist

fandom: Kick-Ass

pairings: Dave Lizewski/Kick-Ass x F!Reader

WARNINGS: language! patching up an open wound, mentions of blood, wound descriptions, fluff OOOO, also angst because he knows you don’t like HIM, kinda proofread but idk..

summary: You and Dave have lost a childhood friendship. The circumstances have made you grow to despise one another, until Kick-Ass has no one else to turn to but you, causing him to develop a small crush. The only problem being that you don't know it's him.

WC: 3.1K

gif not mine!!!

A/N: Low key insane this is the first fic I write that isn’t smut ☠️ also sorry for posting this a day late mb…

———————

“Dammit,” You spoke as you quickly lifted your water bottle up from your desk. It had spilled all over your research papers and ruined some of the fresh ink.

“Fuck.”

You had already spent a little over an hour trying to get your information together and you needed a break. Grabbing your headphones, you made your way to the little sofa you had sitting by your window and took out a comic.

It was rare, but it didn’t take long for you to get bored, you had read this specific issue many times. The music made it that much more boring and you were getting restless. Cracking your window open just a bit, you heard the soft chirps of the birds and crickets outside, feeling some of the cool breeze enter into your room. The sun was set and there was still some twilight left over the New York skyline. You lived a few blocks from Dave, getting a decent view of the city although it was blocked by a tree near your window.

Soon after you had opened your window, you felt yourself getting drowsy, that breeze and the sounds of the night settling in almost made you doze off.

The state you were in wasn’t fully conscious, but you weren’t quite asleep either. You heard a faint sound outside your window, like some big bird just fell onto your roof. You tried to ignore it and relax, but soon you began hearing faint taps at your window.

How odd.

Your eyes slowly opened, allowing your pupils to adjust to the soft fluorescent light.

“Please,” You heard someone whisper, in that moment your eyes shot open and you jumped out of your chair, turning to your window.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You almost yelled, keeping it quiet enough not to alarm your parents. Kick-Ass.

“You said I could—“ he groaned quietly, wincing.

“You said I could stop by if I needed something,” he sighed.

“What?” You questioned, confused at first until you noticed one of his gloves covered in blood, clutching his side.

“Please, you said…” He paused to take a breath, “Your mom’s a nurse, right? I—I can’t go to the cops or the hospital.”

“Well—I mean yeah, she’s a nurse, but… If she helps you she’s gonna end up telling someone.”

He only stood there and waited.

“I can patch you up myself,” You swiftly moved forward to open the window, allowing the boy into your room.

“Agh, fuck—” He groaned, you helped him walk over to your bed.

“Hold on,”

Setting a towel on your bed, you motioned for him to sit down, grabbing his batons from his back and setting them to the side. You ran to your closet to grab a cloth or anything similar.

“Here, put this on there with pressure, okay? I’ll be right back.” You gave him an old shirt and left your room to find a med kit your mom had somewhere downstairs.

He noticed the shirt you gave him and smiled softly. It was an old shirt you had matched with him, well, Dave, in middle school. It was really oversized when you got it, so it still fit. He was surprised you hadn’t thrown it away. It was a Robin shirt, himself owning the Batman one. He remembered how much you loved Robin.

Kick-Ass sighed as he waited for you, holding the shirt to his wound with as much pressure as he could to stop the bleeding.

“Okay,” you spoke out of breath, closing your door and locking it.

“Um…” You looked at him awkwardly, and he waited for you to continue. Clearly in pain.

“I’m gonna need you to take your suit off.” You informed, it was only necessary.

“Okay…” he hesitated, “I can’t really take the suit off...by myself,” he breathed. You could tell that speaking was quite the chore.

You moved towards him, helping him take his gloves off one at a time as either of his hands held the cloth to his wound. Sitting behind him, you unzipped his suit, pushing it off each one of his shoulders.

Woah.

His back was very well defined and it took everything in you not to graze your fingers along his muscles. He felt this, trying to hold in a smile.

“You’re gonna have to let go for a second, okay?” You warned him. Kick-Ass let go of the cloth on his cut, clenching his teeth as you pulled his suit down to his hips. The blood caused it to stick to the wound, it seemed to burn as you peeled it off.

“Shit,” He sighed in pain, taking a deep breath as you soaked a small towel in a little bowl of soap water. He frowned as you brought it up to the gash on his side.

“This is really gonna sting, so you should use something to bite on.” You handed him the cleaner glove and as soon as he bit down onto it, you began dabbing the cloth onto his injury.

He let out a significantly loud groan through the glove and tears welled up in his eyes, his breathing quickened due to the sharp, stinging pain of the soap seeping into his wound. He was seeing stars.

“Okay, we’re done.” You spoke, turning back to the med kit to take out a gauze pad. “This cut is too big to heal on its own, I’m gonna have to stitch it up…” You looked at him to make sure he was okay with it. He only nodded. You continued to dab at his skin to remove all the blood around the slash to see it clearly. It was a cut right above the chiseled area of his iliac furrow, a few inches to the left of an already healed scar that seemed to appear like another stab wound.

“You okay?” You asked him, just to make sure. He nodded once more, removing the glove from his mouth and smiling weakly as you grabbed a needle and suture. You noticed he had a pretty nasty cut on his lip, and his eye was starting to bruise.

“This one’s gonna hurt even more, right?” He joked.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “Are you ready?”

Kick-Ass clenched his jaw, locking eyes with you for a moment, “Yeah,” he grunted, keeping his eyes glued to yours.

You pierced through his skin and his back straightened. Choking out an agony-filled moan, he threw his head back, his hand flying to cover his mouth. Your eyes widened looking up at him.

“If my parents hear you, it’s over.” You whispered and he nodded, chewing on his lip.

Continuing the process of piecing him together, he kept whining about how much it stung even with his fucked up nerve endings.

“Of course it’s gonna hurt, dipshit! How the fuck did this happen to you anyway?” You questioned.

“Oh y’know, some muggers with a knife. Guess they were serious about taking that lady’s bag.” He chuckled.

As you drove the needle through him one last time, he inhaled a sharp breath, gripping into your sheets for his life.

It was quiet for the moment in which you cleaned up, putting everything away and leaving out some bandages to put on him.

You could feel his gaze on you, but goodness, were you scared to look him in the eyes. You knew that if you looked, you’d wanna lean in and kiss him.

“Thank you,” He said, watching you intently as you got up to take the med kit back.

“No problem, Kick-Ass,” you smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. Your smile was super pretty and holy hell was this mask giving him confidence.

“I’m gonna go put this back, the bathroom’s right outside my door to the left, incase you wanna wash your face or something.” You made your way to your door and left it slightly ajar, so that no one would hear it open while you were downstairs.

Kick-Ass slowly limped into your bathroom, finally taking off his mask after closing the door. His face was covered in blood, so much more happened than some muggers with a knife. Frank D’Amico’s men had tried beating him senseless, but he oh so fortunately got away due to a patrol car nearing the area. Yes, he had made sure no one followed him to your home. He wouldn’t know what to do if he was the reason some fucked up kingpin tried to hurt you.

He washed his face as best he could without getting any blood anywhere, his left eye beginning to grow a soft red color.

You knocked softly on the door, “Hey, just come back to my room when you’re done. My parents are watching TV so you should be good.”

“Thanks.” He answered, staring at the door.

Guilt began to overcome him. He was lying to you, not only in keeping his identity from you, but in making up some bullshit about getting jumped by some "muggers."

He wanted to tell you it was him, but he found the thought embarrassing, maybe you would call him pathetic for this whole Kick-Ass thing, even the thought of coming to you when he had no one else was enough to make him cringe. He would rather get stitched up without anesthesia again than have you react badly and get angry at him for lying to you.

Sitting at your desk waiting for him, you finally heard the bathroom light shut off, the door just then clicking open. He limped into your room and you quickly ran to help him sit on the edge of your bed.

You grabbed the gauze, pausing and taking a look at him for a second. Goodness gracious, he was an Adonis of a man. He had really well toned arms, his abdominal muscles very defined as well. He was quite the specimen. And his eyes. The way he looked up at you, like some lost puppy, it made you melt.

“Um, just lift your arms up a bit,” You cleared your throat, embarrassed of the way you were thinking in such a moment.

He lifted his arms and you put the gauze over his now closed wound, grabbing a roll of bandages to wrap around his waist.

“Hold this here,” you told him as you knelt in front of him. Pulling the white fabric around his side, you had to move closer to him in order to reach for it with your other hand behind his back.

You tried focusing on what you were doing, but he kept staring holes into your head. His hand twitched, wanting to brush a stray hair from your face to see it clearly but he held back.

After wrapping the bandage around his waist a few times, you used some medical tape to keep it in place.

“Alright, I’m almost done.” you spoke, finishing up.

Kick-Ass spoke your name with a light tone. This startled you and you looked up at him to see what he was going to say. He only looked at you, glancing at your lips before looking away and it caused your heart to beat a million miles a minute.

“Thank you...” He finally moved his eyes to meet yours, a look of guilt upon whatever you could see of his face.

“I’m really sorry…” He frowned, looking at the ground next to you.

“It’s not your fault, Kick-Ass,” you reassured him without even knowing what he was talking about.

He shook his head as if he was about to speak but the two of you could only watch each other those following moments, your faces moving closer together like magnets. You didn't know why it felt so right in the moment, but you quickly leaned up and kissed him.

He slightly jumped but immediately kissed back. His lips were so plush and smooth, they felt like clouds. And he kissed you like no other boy had ever kissed you before. He kissed you with emotion, he didn’t just kiss you for the sake of kissing. Even if he wasn't the best at it.

The fabric of his mask brushed against your chin as he tilted his head to the side, moving himself closer to you. You felt like he was going to pull away because you were already starting to feel the need to breathe, but he kept kissing you.

Resting your hand on his chest, you felt his heart beating rapidly under your palm. You stood up, causing him to have to lean upwards in order to keep his lips attached to yours, but the movement caused him pain, making him release a grunt and quickly pull away.

“Sorry,” you apologized, referring to the kiss and the wound. He stared at you in utter surprise.

From now on, Dave knew he would look at you in a different light. Why’d you even kiss him? And what gave him such a desperate urge to keep his own lips connected to yours?

He chewed on his bottom lip, "It's okay..." He replied softly.

“I shouldn't have done that, right...? I—It won't happen again—“ You rambled, suddenly cutting yourself off and picking up the empty packaging of the bandages to throw them away and keep yourself busy.

Kick-Ass watched you pick things up with his jaw hanging, still trying to process the kiss and why he... Enjoyed it?

“You can do it again, if you want.” He mentally screamed at himself, why the fuck would he say that!?

You whipped your head around and stared at him from across the room, your face heating up like the Titanic's boiler room.

"I haven’t kissed anyone since like… sixth grade, so…" He chuckled.

Hiding a smile, "Yeah…that was kind of obvious." you spoke, scrunching your nose.

"Sorry." He looked away while giggling at how pathetic it was.

“It’s okay…” you smiled.

You sat next to him. "Everyone needs practice…” You said suggestively.

Turning to look at him, you saw that he was already gaping at you.

"Yeah..." He kept his eyes on yours this time. The reason he was so afraid to do so before was because he felt vulnerable, like you’d know it was him just by his eyes or something.

“So…” you began, “can I kiss you..?”

“Yes—“ he replied a little too quick for his own comfort. “I mean…Yeah.”

You placed your hand on the side of his neck and moved your head closer to his. You noticed him watching your mouth as it neared his, the palm of his hand coming to press against your lower back as you finally connected your lips.

He kissed you softly, innocently, almost like he was afraid you’d pull away if he kissed you any differently.

Moving one of your hands to rest on the back of his neck, you slipped your fingers under his mask, feeling a bit of his soft curls.

You just wanted to kiss him, missing the feeling of someone's mouth on your own. He felt the same, he didn’t feel judged on the fact he was kind of a shitty kisser.

The two of you sat there for a minute, his calloused hands moving from your waist to the sides of your face, the tips of his fingers playing with the shorter hairs on the nape of your neck.

“I hope you don’t hate me,” he breathed, mumbling against your mouth.

“Mm-“ You made a sound of confusion.

You began to realize why he had said it as he brought his hand up to the hem of his mask and began tugging it upward. Quickly pulling away, you reached for his wrist to stop him.

“Don’t do that…” You watched him, slightly alarmed.

His heart dropped, “Why not…?” he spoke, uneasy.

He couldn’t lie to you. Yeah sometimes he hated your guts and wanted you to just shut the fuck up, but today was a completely different story. He changed in the way he saw you. With everything that had just happened in the past ten minutes, he couldn’t lie to you.

“What if I tell someone? How can you trust me if you barely even know me…?”

But he did know you. He knew you enough to trust you, and that there was no way in hell you would ever tell anyone a secret entrusted to you. But he didn’t want to argue with you. Not as Kick-Ass.

“Fine. Sorry...” He apologized.

"You should probably get home... It's kind of late." You suggested looking at your hands as you fidgeted.

“Yeah,” He stood up, grunting as he pulled his arms through his suit to put it back on. “Could you…” He was nodding at you, referring to the back of his suit where the zipper was.

You pulled the slider along the teeth of the zipper, enclosing him completely in his suit.

He turned around to face you “Thanks…” He watched you for a moment. “For patching me up… And stuff…”

You chuckled, “No problem.”

He smiled awkwardly. “I’ll see you tomor—or uhh, whenever I need you again—or whenever you need me,” He stammered, realizing what position he’d almost put himself in. “I’ll just see you.” He chuckled, swallowing hard as he grabbed his gloves and batons and turned to your window.

“Will you be okay to get home?” You watched as he limped by your window. “I could walk with you… Until we get to your neighborhood or whatever.”

“Uh—No, it's like a 10 minute walk. I’ll be fine. Thanks though.” He smiled softly, beginning to climb through your window as he held his side.

You thought about that. There were no other neighborhoods within ten minutes of walking, so he had to live here. That means he had to go to your school. And that means you have to know him if he said he was your age. Holy shit.

“Kick-Ass?” You rested your palms on your windowsill as he crouched down to look at you from your roof.

“Do you go to Fillmore?”

He paused, staring at you like he’d just been caught.

You felt your hands getting clammy.

After a few more moments of silence, you spoke again.

“Do I know you…?”

He stayed silent. All you could do was take it as a yes.

“Weren’t you just getting mad at me for wanting to take my mask off?” He shot back.

“Fuck, you’re right. I’m sorry.” You looked down. “I’ll… I’ll see you around.” You pursed your lips.

He smiled back softly and made his way off your roof and out of your view.

You sat back down to finish your homework, somehow taking three times as long because the only thing on your mind was those beautiful blue eyes of his. And who else in your school had them.

———————

Thank you for reading!! x

[activesplooger]

ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴇ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ | ᴠᴏx x ᴀꜱꜱɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴛ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Notes: (MDNI) don't be afraid to give me feedback on this one! (grammar, criticism, wtvr u notice!). idk wtf im doing but it took a long time and like 200 redo's. enjoy!!!

Summary: Years later. The aftermath of the 'incident'. CW: angst, mistreatment of workers, abuse of power, vox being an ass, fluff if u squint, confrontation, lot of exposition sorry lol, Word Count: 2,217 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Masterpost!

Years later... The Vee's empire grew exponentially and are now the three top overlords in hell. As they grew, they upgraded and relocated to a new gaudy building called the "Vee Tower" which's big enough for all 3 members to reside and do their business. Vox now had a similar, but still new, upgrade to his head. His flat-screen face glows blue and has red almond-shaped eyes. The left eyelid of his is black, like his eyebrows, while his right eyelid is a bright teal, like his teeth. He wears a navy blue and teal striped blazer with matching navy slacks. A grand ruby bowtie tied around his neck, just above the red and black dress shirt he now wore. And to top it all off, he wore a top hat and a charismatic smile.

You still worked for Vox, however, your job description changed over the next few years. You went from being introduced as “This is Y/N, my friend and assistant!” to “This is an employee of mine, she won’t be a bother.”. It was agitating that he started to distance himself from you. I mean, you save his fucking life and let him weep in your arms like a child and this is the thanks you get?!

Vox had also acquired a reputation being a friendly, charismatic, entrepreneur. What a load of bullshit. His media persona was all a facade, a scam to get people to buy his products and/or work for him. You feel bad for the newer employees who deal with Vox's wrath. At least for you, you could cling to the old version of him and have some sort of positive outlook on your boss. The new staff members didn't have any outlook on their boss besides terror and apprehension. They would simply get charmed into a job and then see how Vox's personality does a fucking 180, turning into a complete jackass as soon as their soul was his. Your boss is cold to all his employees, abusing his power over them just for a power trip, a reminder of where they stand in this company. If an employee made one mistake, they'd immediately called to Vox's office for the shakedown of their life. Fucking terrifying.

The whole company shifted into a mess of moral corruption. All of VoxTech’s advertisements were schemes to hypnotize you into craving their products. Manipulation is a key tactic at VoxTech. If people watch any of the programs controlled by the company, they’ll likely hear the phrase ‘Trust us’ more often than not. And in turn, If they hear it enough, they’ll start to believe it. That’s what lured people in, making VoxTech and trust synonymous with each other until ultimately, they buy their shit. Pretty subtle tactic compared to the others. Other ways included Vox straight-up hypnotizing people with his powers. Yet another astounding example of the great morals exemplified by your boss!

Some part of you wished you never helped him that day... you hated yourself for thinking that. In spite of how shitty he is, you missed him. Not the fake media version, or the shitty boss version, the old him. The real Vox. You'd find yourself reminiscing on the late work nights you had with him. He'd order takeout, and you'd help him with his work for hours on end until you'd fall asleep at your desk from fatigue. You never failed to wake up with a crick in your neck from the cramped position, but you always had a familiar coat swaddled around your shoulders. It was the little moments with him that meant a lot. Back when he wasn't so hostile. It was starting to get on your nerves. Seeing your boss- no- seeing your old friend become a jaded prick all because of some excessively red deer fucker?! You knew Alastor hurt him, and yeah, it's understandable to be a little messed up after it... But didn't he really have to take it out on everyone else?! 'Why couldn't he just be honest and talk about what happened?! Why the fuck did he forbid you from speaking about it?!'. These questions rang in your head for years. But you could never ask him... Could you? You definitely weren’t a pushover, but you also weren’t a dumbass. As much as you wish it weren’t true, Vox had the upper hand and a mean temper. However, at this point, you were at the end of your rope. You needed answers, just... maybe not now. Soon. Maybe? Fuck! No matter how much you refused to admit it, he terrified you. You knew he could end you in an instant, he made that very clear when he nearly choked you to death. By now the bruises faded, obviously, but the emotional scars were very much there... You don't forget nor forgive what Vox did to you. So much was left unsaid that day and remains unsaid, you still can't really process it all. You tried to make excuses for what happened, something to console you and give you some sort of reason for everything. The blame always fell on Alastor, which, you felt was true to at least some degree. Your theories aren't enough to soothe your troubled thoughts. It still nagged at you, it always did. If there was some way for you to obliviate this, you would done it have a long time ago.

And the cherry on top of it all is the fact that you have to see him every day and pretend like nothing ever happened. Your workplace serves as a constant reminder of what happened, you couldn't possibly get yourself to stop thinking about it. Every fiber of your being just wanted you to call him out and pry into every detail of what happened with Alastor- But you held back... Part of you felt he would hurt you... again... As much as you want answers, being hurt and possibly killed over it definitely isn't worth it.

--

Your heels clicked on the black flooring as you walked to Vox's office. Vox had previously emailed you to bring him some paperwork for some new employees who were recently hired. You carried the heavy stack of documents in your hands, your arms begging for relief. Couldn’t these have been digital like everything else? You could’ve sworn he did this just to make things harder for you. Prick. The path to his desk was long and narrow, with sharks swimming around beside it. A large circular platform that held Vox’s desk and various monitors accompanied by heaps of cords and cables ended the path. From a distance, you can see your boss berating another employee. The worker cowered on the ground beside the desk as Vox loomed over him, a scowl etched across his face. You increase your pace to his desk in an attempt to shorten the eyesore in front of you. "Let me get this straight," The TV demon inches closer "You want to waste M҉Y̴ time M҉Ɏ money, MɎ-". "I-I just want some time off, Mr. Vox," the trembling staff member interrupts "I-It's my wife and I's anniversary I-I just need a couple hours-". A teal blue collar takes shape around the worker's neck, you couldn't believe the sight before you. Rage and pent-up strain filled your core, it killed you to see him doing this to someone else. Right in front of you no less. Your breathing becomes shallow, the memory of Vox choking you haunting your brain as you see another employee going through what you did. Should you stop it? Would that only make things worse? Fuck- 'Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout'. That phrase repeats in your head like a mantra, you need to get the fuck out of there. You couldn't stand being there any longer.

Large teal claws grasp at the end of the leash attached to the collar, pulling the chain closer as Vox speaks. "ɎØ҉U҉ ŁƗSŦɆN ĦɆɌɆ ɎØ҉U҉ F҉U҉ȻꝀƗNǤ-". The slam of papers cuts off Vox, he whips his head to the sound only to find you walking out of the office in a huff. Tears welled up in your eyes. 'Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout'. Pushing the doors open you run out, tears falling down your cheeks as you struggle to catch your breath. You turn the corner and slump against the nearest wall, burying your head in your knees and unsteady sobbing.

After you left, Vox just stares at the door you stormed through. The chain vanishes from his grip, and his hands fall to his side as longing and regret cross his features. Your boss's mind was so preoccupied with you leaving that he didn't notice the employee scurrying out the door. Once he realized that he let the worker off the hook, he didn't call him back. No. He let him go. Vox had bigger things to deal with. You.

Whilst you lay there, slumped against the wall, you feel something drape over your shoulders. But, when you lift your head, you don't see anyone, only a blue zap darting up to a security camera. You furrow your eyebrows and turn your head to see what was draped over your back. Your eyes are met with a navy blue and teal striped blazer comfortably enveloping your shoulders. "...Vox?" --

For a few hours, you clutched onto the jacket as you sobbed, but, eventually, you had to suck it up and work. And return the jacket. Fuck. That's gonna be awkward... 'I can't just keep it, can I?' you thought as you grabbed the jacket and made your way to his office, bracing yourself for the uncomfortable conversation ahead.

You quietly make your way over to Vox's desk, his eyes fixed on the monitors in front of him, not noticing you. "Sir?". "Gah!" Vox springs up out of his chair and nearly falls out of it, "Y/N! What the fuck?!". "Sorry sorry!" you apologize, "I didn't mean to startle you, Sir.". An awkward grin spreads across your face as you hold out the jacket to him "I came to return-" the jacket gets snatched out of your hands "-this". Vox slides the jacket over his black and red dress shirt, "Finally!" he exclaims. You stand there awkwardly after he ripped the blazer out of your hands while Vox just got back to work on his computer. "Can I help you?" Vox questioned with a condescending look on his face. "Hm? Oh! No no, I just wanted to thank you, so- Thank you." A soft smile crossed your features, hoping that this would spark a sincere discussion. Rolling his eyes, he responded with an annoyed tone, "Well, don't. Just accept the gesture and move on, we don't. need. to talk about it."

A scoff escapes your lips, "Typical." you mutter.

“What was that?” Vox eyes bored into yours as he got up to fully face you, his tall stature towering over you.

Normally, you’d back down from a situation like this. You knew that Vox could overpower you in an instant. But something in you just snapped, you couldn't take it any longer. Any fears or doubts you had suddenly disappeared. You just can't take it any longer.

“You heard me” you retort, standing up as straight as possible to try and match his height. Red vexed eyes narrowed at you, staring deeply into your eyes, "If you had any brain in that head of yours you'd back off, Y/N." he barked. The skin over your knuckles pulls taught as you balled your hands into fists, "If you had any brain in that flat head of yours you'd understand why I'm fed up with your shit!" you lashed out, "I swear if I wasn't soul-bound I'd leave your TV ass in an instant!" Vox's crimson eyes widened, he seemed genuinely surprised at your exposure of him, "Excuse me? I've given you ɆVɆɌɎŦĦƗNǤ! You'd be blundering around Hell if I hadn't hired you!" Your eyes practically roll out of your head. "You haven't given me anything besides a daily fucking migraine!" "I will not take this, I'm your superior, Y/N!" your boss blustered, "Or did you forget? Perhaps I should give you a reminder-". The all too familiar teal blue leash starts to materialize in his hands causing a knee-jerk reaction out of you. Your hands instinctively grab the half-embodied chain and yank it to the side.

SNAP!

The two of you stand there, watching in disbelief as the teal links slowly disappear. You're not sure how you managed to stop the soul-leash from fully forming, but you did. Finally prying your eyes off the now absent chain, you look up at Vox. He was still looking down like a deer in the headlights, looking vulnerable and powerless. The sight of him reminds you of the way he looked when he desperately clung to you after his falling out with Alastor. You hadn't seen him like this since then. For the first time in years, he wasn't in control of something. The overlord's voice faltered as he mumbled, "How did-". "I don't know," you responded abruptly. ... Red gleaming eyes lifted to meet yours, "You want to talk? Fine. You've convinced me," he slumps back into his chair, his elbow popping up his head as he looked at you with an exasperated look, "Talk."

--

to be continued! hope u liked this chapterr its the longest of the two. this one took me long as fuck sorry lol i havent had a lot of free time. lmk if u want to be apart of the tag list :) also leave me some feedback in the replies or the ask me anything tab iyw!

COMFORT FROM THE ANGST COMING SOON!

-- TAG LIST:

@lovelyemily, @preppyfellaa

[pien-art]

-FAQ-

Hello! I've gained a whole bunch of followers lately and I've been getting a lot of questions about commissions, what my setup is, what brushes I use, etc, so I thought I'd make a post about it to answer everyone's questions at once !

Putting them under the cut <3

Commissions:

Commission prices are listed in my pinned post. You can send me a private message about your commission idea and we can get to talking :) It is helpful to have enough references handy (character, outfit, descriptions etc)

I am generally a fast drawer but I also have a job and a physical disability so there might be moments I can't work on your commission. But that is never longer than a few days at most.

Payment is upfront, the full amount and via paypal only. I know this might seem a bit scary but unfortunately there are a lot of people who end up not paying for commissions and I want to avoid that.

During the process I will send you frequent updates and will ask for input, to see if it is going in the direction you want. You can ask for changes during the sketching progress but once I've started on line-art and coloring, no big changes will happen. (You can for example ask for a different color for a shirt etc, but not for a different prop or pose or expression)

When it is completed, I will send the drawing to you via email. The drawing will remain mine and it is not to be sold or profited of by the person who commissioned me. If the commission is for something commercial/for selling, that needs to be discussed. I prefer to do drawings only for personal use!

For more questions, my dms/asks are open :)

How long have I been doing digital art:

I've been drawing digitally for about 5 years now i think? But before that I've been drawing and painting traditionally literally since the moment I could pick up a pencil.

Set-up:

It's just me and my ipad and apple pencil laying on my bed. I wouldn't even know where to begin for those whole multi-monitor/screen setups ;-; I draw only with Procreate

Brushes:

I tend to play with different brushes from time to time to get different textures, but generally i use the same few for most of my drawings/styles. My favorite one is the Peppermint Brush, for sketching. I use it in every drawing i make! I always sketch with it, and often do the line-art with it as well! And it makes for a nice textured brush for rendering as well! (i used it for a lot of rendering of the armor in this drawing)

The (procreate) brushes i use a lot are

for medieval style: inking - Ink Bleed (for line-art) artistic - Quoll (for coloring)

for general style: calligraphy - Chalk (coloring/rendering) sketching - Peppermint (line-art/sketching)

for realism: calligraphy - Shale Brush (full rendering) Also using the shale brush for smudging and erasing when drawing realistic

for lineart: smooth pencil from this pack by Heygiudi

How/why do you choose a base color:

I tend to look at a few different things when deciding on a base color/color palette.

the overall color of the reference pic

the color i associate with who or what i am drawing

the feeling/vibe i want to give off with that drawing

color has a BIG impact on the vibe of a drawing, so it is something i keep in mind when im drawing.

Using a color as a base to start, helps a lot with my drawing process. It helps me pick out other colors so they match better. It helps me get light/dark values right. And the chalk brush i use, has gaps between the strokes, so the base color will always come through a little. Having the same color come through in the entire drawing, helps pull all the colors together if that makes sense? I always start with a solid base color when i am painting traditionally as well!

Advice:

PRACTICE!!! just keep drawing and practice. I know this is such generic advice but truly practice is The Way. Learn from other artists but don't compare yourself to them. Everyone's artistic journey is different and there's no "good" or "bad". And most importantly make sure that you have fun when you're making stuff :3

I also learn a lot by studying art I admire and love. Figuring out what it is I like about it. (for example, the line thickness or the shapes or texture etc), and try to incorporate that in my own style in a way that is not directly copying or stealing.

[preqwells]

I don't know if you'd like something like this, but what about Leon with a gf who loves Sanrio? She has all sorts of merch + compares him to some of the characters ( she tells him he looks like Pompompurin when he becomes all cuddly with her in her Hello kitty themed bedroom and he takes big offence).

I'd love to see the big, buff and intimidating Leon walking hand in hand with his little way of sunshine into a Miuso or a Sanrio store...

thx luv <3

first off, thank you for ur request…. you r one of my first asks :’) <3 !! the funniest thing is imagining leon trying to get comfortable on a bed that has like 20 stuffed animals… and yes, i love stuff like this! im into collecting stuffed animals and even have sum strapped in my car lol i hope i fulfilled your request to your expectations! 

leon had never been into stuffed animals— sure, he thought they were ‘cute’, but some were even… unsettling? big, soulless beady eyes staring back at him. weird. 

that all changed when he started dating you. it wasn’t until maybe three months into your relationship he walked into your apartment, vanilla-scented candles permeating the air. he nodded in approval before he reached your room, blinking a few times. he was a bit surprised at what he saw. they were…everywhere! your blanket, on the desk, on the bed— even your keys had a little black cat on it. chococat, you’d inform him. he decided to navigate the bed, careful not to squish any of the stuffed ‘sanrios’, you called them. so here he was, a trained operative that could take someone down within a mere matter of seconds, muscles rippling under his black t-shirt he threw on this morning, surrounded by five hello kitty’s and other sanrio characters he had no idea about. 

he indulged you, letting you talk so freely about your interest in these ‘sanrio’ characters. “i know it’s like… childish—“ you’d try to downplay, unsure what leon thought about your hobby before leon interrupted you. “nah— none of that.” he’d gently reassure you, reaching for your hand as his eyes remained glued to you. everyone had their hobbies, and yours was… honestly, cute. 

leon accompanied you to the nearest sanrio store, hand-in-hand as you marveled at the ceramic figures the entire time. he couldn’t have his love go home empty-handed, right? he spoiled you rotten that day, buying you some ceramic figurines and even a few stuffed animals— he couldn’t help the way he ate up the look of adoration on your face for him. he got a few extra kisses that night.

you’d also compare him to pompompurin, which he definitely fit the description but he got so agitated when you brought it up. 

“see— look at him! he’s just a little guy. and he’s blonde, like you!” 

“sweetheart— i don’t… we look completely different! i’m more like… like… what’s it called? rilakkuma! yeah, um-- that one.” 

“leon, that’s not even sanrio!” 

by the end of the month when he learned about your sanrio obsession, he actually bought you two matching keychains and researched if there were any sanrios that were a couple— keroppi and keroleen.

banner credit: @/v6que

[msgexymunson]

Kickstart My Heart

Eddie x Fem!Reader

Description: Eddie's taken aback when someone makes a bigger scene in the cafeteria than him. Maybe he's finally met his match?

Warnings: Mostly fluff, smidge of angst, very very slight smut (making out/slight grinding) mentions of drug use, use of y/n twice (I try to avoid it if at all poss) use of pet names (princess/sweetheart etc) Reader has curly hair and a back tattoo and I'm totally projecting I'm fully aware.

A/N: Honestly I keep seeing Eddie with cheerleaders and I respectfully disagree. I wanted him to meet someone with similar interests and also wanted to see how he could deal with someone being a bit of a dom as well. I'm not 100% on this but it's been sitting in my notes forever. I'm thinking this would be a good mini series so let me know in the comments/reblogs if you like it enough for that! Edit, Part 2 now out!

5.2k words

Masterlist Part 2 Here

Eddie lounges on the bench in the cafeteria, his legs draped either side, tapping a tattoo on the floor with his feet. He was laying back, magazine in hand, reading out choice paragraphs to his followers, the Hellfire club. And anyone else who might be listening. "....see, they don't even realise how much of a joke they actually are!" Eddie flourishes the magazine and starts rolling it into a tube, mock conducting with his hands, pointing at the more popular kids in the hall.

The boys at the table nod make agreeable noises, knowing it's easier to just let Eddie continue when he's like this; but then something catches Dustin's eye.

"See? I told you Mike, she does go here." Hitting him on the arm.

"Where? Where?"

"Right there, walking in, that's the girl." Dustin stares at the doorway, transfixed.

Eddie laughs, still laying there.

"Don't tell me your losing your mind over a girl Henderson."

"I heard she just got out of Juvie. She showed up in my science class and threw a drink over Jimmy Clayton." Gareth pipes up, following Dustin's gaze.

"I saw her at the arcade wrecking it on Galactic Warriors."

"You should talk to her Dustin!" Mike laughed.

"Screw that, she's a senior and she's scary dude."

Eddie, now annoyed at the lack of attention, jumps up onto the seat, standing on it, knocking the gang out of their spell. "Hey sheep, this is reality calling!" He shouts to them in a sing song voice, bonking Dustin on the head with the magazine, then turns and looks around the room trying to find who they are talking about.

He doesn't have to wait long. A commotion starts two tables away, and the prettiest girl Eddie has ever seen is facing off with Jason Carver.

Long, messy curls adorn her head, wearing a faded Anthrax t shirt tied at the waist, nipping it in, and tight jeans, a wry smile on her lips.

"Get out of my face, freak!" Jason sneers at her.

"You just tried to grope me, now you don't like me sweetheart?" She shouts sarcastically back at him. She leans forward then sticks her middle finger up right in Jason's face.

Eddie has frozen, standing on his seat, mouth slightly open, magazine hanging from his hand, forgotten.

The girl starts to back away. As soon as she turns her back Jason mutters loudly, "as if anyone wants to touch you slut."

Eddie's about to jump off the chair, a fire lit in his stomach. But before that can happen, the girl spins around, and in one smooth, almost dance like motion, pulls her sneaker off her foot and throws it straight into Jason's face. Jason looks furious, his face bright red. The girl smiles, takes a bow, and just leaves the hall. Without her shoe.

Eddie is in love, he's sure of it. It's a peculiar, foreign feeling. He's warm all over. A flush begins to creep up his neck. A flutter in his stomach, mouth dry, head fuzzy. He watches those curls bounce off until the door shuts.

"Eddie! Earth to Eddie!"

He shakes his head to get a grip on reality, and realises oh yeah, I'm Eddie.

"What?" He jumps down to the floor, trying to act nonchalant.

"What was that about losing my mind over a girl?" Dustin grins at him.

Eddie's composure breaks for a second, then smiles back, with that signature Eddie grin. "That, my friend, is not a girl, that is a force of nature."

A shriek distracts him for a second. Someone had grabbed the sneaker and flung it at their friend, sending a drink flying. Another student grabs it with a look of disdain and flings it over their shoulder. Eddie watches it land on the floor a few feet away.

A smile parades across his face. He flings the magazine at Dustin and bounds over and grabs the shoe, then races back and grabs his battered metal lunch box in the other hand.

Dustin groans. "Oh shit Eddie, no, no!"

Eddie grins and winks at Dustin with a glint in his eye.

"Eddie, come on, you cant go after her." Mike rolls his eyes.

"And why not?"

"Because! Because she's basically you!"

"Mike's right, the universe might implode. Or you'll end up in prison." Dustin says, knowing its hopeless.

Eddie laughs. "Well now I gotta find out." He spreads his arms wide, sneaker in one hand, box in the other. "I bid you adieu," and leans into a low bow, turning to leave the room.

After a few minutes of searching and feeling embarrassed, Eddie's annoyed. No one should take up this much space inside his head so fast. You had captivated him and it was a wholly new experience. He'd had crushes on girls before, fleeting things, but this was different. He felt a burning in his chest that he'd never felt before. He decides the best thing to do is to get some air, have a smoke and chill out. There wasn't much left of lunch break after all.

He starts to walk over to his usual spot in the woods, inspecting the shoe in his hand in the process, turning it over and over. It's small, even for a girls sneaker, and about as dirty as his own. There's marks on the white leather, and scribbles and drawings on it in ballpoint pen. He sees 'Iron Maiden' in spiky letters across the side and his heart leaps. Oh come on, get it together Munson, you getting all excited over a shoe?

*******************

What a grade A prick you think to yourself as you lay on the picnic table in the woods that another senior told you about, smoking a cigarette.

You were seriously thinking this is a bad idea, coming back to Hawkins. You hadn't been here since Middle School and the crowds hadn't exactly improved. First that pervert in Chemistry tried to put his arm around you, now some basketball playing entitled dick gropes you in the lunch line.

You try to lay still and calm down, but your fingers were pulling at the hole on the thigh of your jeans, unravelling it more, your leg restlessly shaking.

Eddie approaches the clearing cautiously,  surprised to see someone on the table. Then his heart swells. It's her. She's laying on the table, curls spilling over the edge, one knee up and legs slightly apart, one socked foot dangling off the table. She looks so peaceful, and slightly vulnerable. Eddie suddenly feels a twitch in his pants, really Munson?

"You lose something?"

You look up, slightly startled, to this very pretty boy with messy brown hair, standing there grinning sheepishly, waving your shoe in the air.

"Only my mind." You say back, sitting up.

"Oh, is this isn't yours?" He smirks at you, a glint in his eye. His very familiar eyes. You take in his figure. Leather jacket, band t shirt and black jeans. He's lean, and tall, and handsome.

"Now that, that I didn't lose. I ejected it. With force."

He laughs loudly at that and moves towards you, holding the shoe out. You reach for it and he pulls it away, a cheeky smile on his face.

"So you want your homemade missile back or...?"

In response you stick your socked foot out to him. He seems surprised at this small but bold movement. He puts down the lunchbox he's holding and undoes the knotted laces, then slides the sneaker onto your foot.

"What do you know, it fits!" You giggle at him which makes his face light up.

"So what's your name?" He says tying your laces.

"Cinder-fucking-rella."

He grins at you, still holding your foot. You take a last drag of your cigarette and look him in the eye. There's a moment when you both look at each other, a heat in the air.

"Gonna need that back." You motion to your foot. He lets go and puts his hands up in mock submission, smug smile on his face. You jump off the table and start to make your way back to school.

"Hey- wait!"

"See you around Prince Charming." You say over your shoulder.

"See you princess." Is his quiet response.

Eddie's standing there, for the second time today, staring at your curls bounce, watching you leave.

*******************

Oh my God its Eddie Munson. You think to yourself, grinning now your back is turned, a flush creeping up your cheeks. You cannot believe it. He was the year above in Middle School and you crushed on him, hard. You nearly didn't recognise him with long hair but he smiled at you and it clicked and you nearly melted right then and there. God, since you'd been held back a year after the chaos that is your life you were sure you'd never see him again, at least at school. He must have been held back two years.

Eddie Munson. He looked good. Real good. And you just left. But he had looked so smug and sure of himself and you never like to do what people expect. Practically skipping to class, you kept saying his name in your head. Eddie Munson. You grin to yourself. Maybe this year wont be so bad.

*******************

"Late again Mr Munson?"

"Only so we can have these chats Mrs O'Donnell"

"Thin ice young man. Take a seat."

Eddie flops down in his chair, and leans back. Its last period, and his concentration is elsewhere. Chin resting in his hand, he thinks about the brief encounter with, well, with her yesterday. Whatever her name is. The princess. He smiles to himself. Not many people can surprise him. Why did she just run off though? He thought their chat was going well.

Halfway through the lesson, he feels something on the back of his head. Then again. Turning round, he sees her. Smirk on her face, balling up a strip of paper. He grins, then runs his hand through his hair, sending an avalanche of little white balls to the floor like snowflakes. She laughs silently, banging her hand against her mouth to be quiet, and looks at him with glee. Eddie's heart is about to burst, looking at her joyful face. Lost in her eyes for a second, he remembers his 'thin ice' and whips his head back round to the front. Coast is clear.

She taps him on the back, he glances round and she waves a folded piece of paper. He looks back to the front but holds his hand out behind him to take it. She presses the note into his palm with warm fingers.

Taking the note, he unfurls it with deft movements:

Meet me after class Mr Munson.

He composes himself for a moment, his stomach somersaulting, a wide smile just itching to spread across his face. So, was he right, did she like him? He turns his head briefly to flash her a lopsided grin and a nod.

The bell rings. There was the general scuffle, chair screeches and chatter that a accompanies the end of a lesson. Eddie leapt up and nearly ran to the door, hearing a soft giggle behind him.

*******************

Look at him, he's practically skipping you laugh to yourself. Seems a shame to mess with him. You were going to mess with him though. Only a little. It's not every day your childhood crush seems to like you back.

"Hey princess." Giving you a goofy grin. "Hey" you beam back, tilting your head to one side. "Can we go to the bench, I need to ask you something."

"Er sure?" He looks happy, but confused, searching your face for answers. You whip your head around and start walking briskly. He hops to try and keep up with you. I could get used to this, Eddie Munson trailing behind me.

He catches up, and you have a chat about music, passing the time. Turns out you have pretty similar taste. He points out your Anthrax t shirt from yesterday and you talk about Iron Maiden, Ozzie, Dio, Metallica. He waves his arms in the air and bounces, so excitable, like a child. You make it to the bench and you take a seat, hands steepled in front of you, pulling a serious face.

He hops down and sits opposite, head cocked to one side, giving you his full attention. God he's handsome. That hair falling around his face, those full lips, those eyes that seem to stare into your soul and beyond. Even his neck is attractive. You realise you are staring, a cough clearing your throat.

"I hear good things about you Munson."

"Well you cant be talking to most of Hawkins then, I'm a Satan worshipping weirdo!" He opens his mouth wide, sticks out his tongue and wrinkles his nose up at you. Look at that tongue.

You stare at him in mock horror, your hand flying to your mouth.

"Really, do you sacrifice virgins?"

"I would if I could find one." He winks at you.

You laugh then, so hard you snort a little, then your cheeks blush pink.  Eddie revels in the slight drop in your guard.

"Wow princess, that was really something." He smirks at you.

"Damnit Munson, stop with the 'princess!'"

"Well what am I supposed to call you, you wont tell me your name sweetheart."

Something about the way he called you sweetheart stirred something between your legs. You rubbed your thighs together briefly. It was a great feeling, but it also annoyed you a little. You hated being out of control, and you felt a flash of, wait was that fear? He'd caught you off guard. You were supposed to be catching him off guard. You smile at him lazily.

"Well maybe you need to earn it." You winked at him.

"Ah I see how it is. Hmmm. Well, what did you want from me then, dragging me into the woods."

You reach over and grab his hand, lean closer. The warmth of his hand contrasts with the cool feel of his rings brushing your palm. "I hear you can help a girl out." You say to him breathily.

Eddie's eyebrows raise so high that they disappear into his hair and a flush appears on his cheeks. You smirk at him.

"Word is your the school's supplier. Or am I wrong?" You bat your eyelashes at him.

He nods in understanding and for a second, looks a little deflated. "Well you ain't wrong sweetheart." He grabs his metal lunchbox and plants it on the table, giving you the sell.

You agree to half an ounce, and you are sure he gives you more than that, not that you are complaining. He holds it out and you go to grab it, but he snatches it away at the last minute, grinning at you. 

"Come on Munson!" You say to him, mock pouting.

"It comes at a price."

"Oh yeah? I just gave that to you!"

"Something else. I gotta know your name." His eyes near bore into your soul.

"I told you. Cinderella."

"Very funny princess. I tell you what, we can make a deal. You come to the Hideout tomorrow night, and listen to my band. Then we can forget the name. For now."

Smooth Munson.

"Maybe I will then."

"Ah ah ah princess, you gotta. Comes with the deal you see. You need to promise."

"Fine. Cross my heart. I'll come see your band."

His grin damn near splits his face apart. "I promise you sweetheart, with your discerning taste? You're gonna love it."

*******************

Eddie gets ready for the gig tonight, backstage, standing in the mirror. Maybe he spends a little extra time on his hair. So what? He's playing a gig. Nothing at all to with her. He wondered who he was trying to kid. He hadn't been able to stop thinking of her. His mind just kept wandering. She was gorgeous and feisty and everything he could ever want. It takes a lot for him to focus on the moment. He steps out, guitar in hand, and takes a deep breath. Starts playing, and searching the very small audience. She's not here.

First song of the set down, then the second. Eddie's starting to give up, glancing at the door, when a familiar head of curls bounces through. She's here. She's just late. Eddie laughed to himself. Like Mike said, it was very Eddie of her. She sauntered over to the bar and got the attention of the server immediately, tossing her head back and smiling. Eddie felt a hotness creep into his chest, almost as if he was jealous. It was only after ordering a drink she hopped onto a bar stool, turned and looked at him, legs seductively crossed. She's fucking beautiful. Her hair seemed neater, she had clearly styled it somehow, but the curls still fell around her face. Her dress was figure hugging and black, a zip running right down the front. Her curves took his breath away. Eddie couldn't help but wonder if the whole dress came undone if you pulled that zip. He nearly faltered in his playing thinking about it. Another song down and then another, then one of the waitresses came over to him, beer in hand.

"A beer from Cinderella?" She said, pointing at her. Eddie laughed, of course she would send a drink over. Shit, do I like her because she's like me? His band finish the set, and he downs half the beer. Taking a deep breath, he moves his way into the audience.

*******************

Ok he's coming over, act natural. You try to look like you are looking the other way, then start to inspect your fingernails. Eddie stands in front of you, and you look up into those deep brown eyes of his. It takes your breath away.

"Why if it isn't Van Halen, I'm you're biggest fan" you say breathily, a smirk on your face. I'm not done playing with you yet Munson.

Eddie smirks at you, "looks like you decided to turn up after all princess."

"Well, you know, I kinda promised this guy."

"This guy must be impressive if you're coming here to this dive just to see him."

"What can I say, he's got a bit of an ego but he looks damn sexy when he plays the guitar."

Eddie nearly falters, seeing you bat your eyelashes at him. He looks so cute when he's not so sure of himself. Then he takes a different tact, pointing at the beer in your hand "aren't you a minor sweetheart?"

"Aren't you Munson?"

"Well, they don't know that " another Eddie wink.

"Don't know about me either. I told the bartender I'm 35."

Eddie laughs at this, for once feeling out of his depth.

"What are you, 17, 18?'

"Try 19 Munson." He looks at you quizzically. "Yes it's not just you that's been held back."

"How do you know about that?" Shit nearly gave it away.

"Everyone knows, you're famous Eddie."

"So, you gonna actually tell me how you know that, and how you know my full name sweetheart?"

You scrunch your face a little, realising you never said his first name before. Got a little too carried away with the game you had been playing. Shouldn't have called him Van Halen either. Seems like the right time to confess. Well, here goes nothing. You take a deep breath, your heart in your throat.

"I know you Eddie Munson. I went to middle school with you. You were in the year above. My names y/n l/n."

Eddie's eyes widen. He looks at you, really looks at you. Then the words you never thought you would hear come out of his mouth.

"Shit, y/n, I remember you. You were always running around with those nerds, you wore glasses all the time. I remember you getting pulled from school!"

"And how the fuck would you remember that?" You said, feeling uncomfortable.

"Well, I remember, I remember the talent show. When you sang in front of the whole school. Hotel California. I never expected it, no one did. You were really good."

You blush a deep crimson, annoyed at your vulnerability. Eddie doesn't seem to notice, just looking over your shoulder, remembering.

"Shit I remember hearing you sing, then having to go on with my band near straight after, feeling like we weren't gonna be shit compared to that."

You blush red to the roots of your hair. "Well, your bands really good, really good Munson..  I was just, you know, karaoke singing..."

"No, honest, I thought you were amazing." He grins at you, fingers tapping on the bar next to you. That Eddie grin makes you want to melt into a puddle. Weren't you supposed to be teasing him?

You stare into those eyes. Those big, beautiful brown eyes and realise something. Maybe you had been wrong about Eddie. You strip that bravado back, that fake confidence, and he is just a kid. An overexcited, vulnerable, kid. Just like you.

He's looking at you, staring at you with those eyes of his, and you need to do something before you are his, right here and right now. You turn to the bar and wave at the bar tender. "Two tequilas, please." As you flash a comfortable smile. The bartender catches your gaze and pours out two shots, smiling at you and raising his eyebrows at Eddie. You take your shot in hand, staring at Eddie, and down the shot. You swallow with barely a flinch, waiting to see his reaction.

"You're gonna be the death of me sweetheart." He grins, then takes his shot the same way.

"You wanna get out of here?"

**************************************

I'm the luckiest guy in the world. Eddie gazes at you, your cheeks flushed, laying on his couch, your feet resting on his lap. Listening to the metal music Eddie had put on, curled up on the couch. You had been joking and chatting for an hour or so and he just felt so comfortable around you. You seemed to have the same sense of humor as him, laughing at all his jokes. It seemed a far cry from the way you had reacted to him before, building walls up. He thought it was nice to see you as you, without defences.

"So, you want a beer, or you ready to sing for me."

"Not on your damned life Munson, though I'll take that beer."

Eddie laughs and gets up, lifting your feet softly to one side, and grabs two beers, opening them by the fridge.

"So, why wouldn't you tell me your name before." Eddie asks, his head to one side, intrigued.

'Because Munson, it was fun messing with you." You smirk back at Eddie, but there's a blush to your cheeks that makes him think you weren't being honest with him.

You continue, "a lot of people know things, or think they know why I left. I just didn't want you to judge me before you knew me."

"As a victim of judgement I can safely say I know what you mean." Eddie brings his hands up, indicating to himself. He hands you a beer which you place on the table, and he does the same. He sits next to you, close, head turned towards you. 

Damn she's intoxicating. Eddie coughs, and looks into your eyes. You smile back at him, his eyes drawn to your lips.

Come on Munson, kiss me already.

You both sit, mulling in this hot silence, looking at each other, flushed cheeks and beating hearts. It's almost a stand off, each waiting for the other to make a move. You lick your lips and try and build up that confidence that you had before. Reaching out, you hold your hand to his jaw line, gently rubbing your thumb down it, coming to rest on his chin. He moves forward, expectantly, and you take that as a sign. You lean towards him, your breath on his lips, as your hand snakes into his hair. Your noses touch, the tip of your nose rubbing just to the side of his, as your lips ever so lightly graze, sending shivers of sensation through you. His mouth opens slightly, and you both press your lips to the other, tongues touching, softly, hesitantly. Your mouths open more, tongues reaching out, exploring each others mouths leisurely, deeply. His hands reach out to hold you at the hips, pulling you closer. You pull at his hair slightly and he moans into you. You break apart, both panting slightly, and stare into each others eyes. You see those soulful dark eyes pouring out feeling to you, and you know that he has stolen your heart forever.

Eddie breaks the silence. He grins and chuckles at you, "Now that was intense."

You're breathless, wordless for once, biting your lip. "Eddie..." you manage and he smirks at you. You press your lips to his again hungrily, urgently. His hands grip your hips, and you crawl into his lap, swinging one leg over so you're straddling him. His hands massage into you, and both of your hands end up in his hair, tugging at it. You are both kissing almost violently, and you break away so you can breathe. You rock your hips forward, feeling how hard he was getting through his jeans. He takes a sharp breath at that, his hands moving lower to grab your ass, grinding you into him again. You moan low into your throat, throwing your head back.

"Jesus princess you're so fucking hot." He manages to say, his voice so low and rough its almost a growl.

You lean forward again, pulling him into another fervent kiss, tongues clashing, hips bucking. He groans and bites your lip. Grabbing you by the hips he suddenly stands up and you throw your arms around his neck for balance, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you to his bedroom, never stopping the urgent flow of hot kisses.

He throws you on the bed and climbs on top of you, then seems to remember himself. "Sorry, you just.. you do things to me."

"You drive me wild Eddie Munson" you grin back at him. "But maybe we should, you know, take it easy. I like you, I really like you, but I mean, you barely know me."

"Not true, I know you from middle school, remember? That's years." He winks at you, then flops down next to you, on his side "Seriously though, whatever you want. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

You could have cried at that. His face turned to you, that look of concern on his face, his brows slightly furrowed, it melted your heart. You hold a hand to his cheek.

"I'm not saying I don't want to, you know. I'm just saying not yet. I do want to, I just, want to take my time with you Mr Munson."

He grinned at you, stroking your side.

"I've wanted you since your shoe connected with Jason's face."

You laughed out loud at that, he smiled at you, enjoying how much he could make you laugh. He pulled you in for another kiss, less urgent but still passionate, long and deep, like you had all the time in the world. The rest of the universe melted away, it was just you and him, wrapped in each others arms.

"Can I stay? Is that OK?" You stare in his eyes.

"Princess you're not going anywhere as long as I can help it."

"I meant for tonight, like sleep here." You poke him playfully in the ribs.

"Sure! Tonight, tomorrow, maybe the next one.." you giggle at that.

"Hold on let me grab you something" he jumps up and leaves the room. You hear the music stop and a small cry.

You sit up, as he walks back into the room, looking dejected.

"Eddie what's wrong?"

He looks at you with a miserable face, throws his hands in the air "we forgot the beers!!" He falls to the floor on his knees in mock anguish. You chuckle at his theatrics.

"You're an idiot Eddie Munson." You throw a pillow at him. He grabs it in the air and throws it back.

"What the hell was I doing? Oh yeah" He throws a faded black band t shirt to you. "To sleep in."

You get up with your back to him as Eddie sits on the edge of the bed.

"So yeah if you wanna just go to the bathroom you can change..."  he stops mid sentence.

You had started to unzip your dress, letting it fall to the ground, uncovering your back. You have a tattoo that covers your back, huge, black, bat like wings. Your black, lacy matching underwear is on display. Still with your back to him, you unhook your bra, and that falls too. You slip the t shirt over your head, it's big on you and reaches just to the tops of your thighs. Ok that was mean.

You turn around and look at Eddie's face. "What?" You smirk.

Eddie's broken. He's staring at you, beetroot red face, mouth hanging open, unable to speak.

"Holy shit.. You- you're... you've got...erm, wow." Eddie is speechless for once. "Cool tattoo." He manages to stutter out.

You smile at him sweetly. "Thank you."

"Jesus y/n that was really mean" He says, regaining some composure and pulling you roughly towards him. You laugh, throwing your head back, and his lips find your throat, kissing and sucking your neck. You let out a whimper, he feels so good against your skin.

"You've made me really hard, I hope you realise that you devil woman." He keeps kissing but he's digging his fingers into your ribs, tickling you. You giggle and squirm, enjoying the effect you seem to have on him.

"Sorry, I know, I'm an awful tease. Someone really needs to teach me a lesson."

"Oh just you wait princess. I'm totally getting you back for that."

"I look forward to it Munson." You wink at him.

Getting ready for bed, you grab your bag from the living room, and make your way to the bathroom. You come back to the bedroom with your hair piled up in a bun. Eddie's in his boxers, laying on the bed. His lean figure is relaxed, a smattering of tattoos cover his torso and arms. Your gaze settles on them, unable to take your eyes off him, and drifts down to the rather clear outline of his hardness in his boxers. Now he certainly looks impressive you think to yourself, your mind wandering.

"What's on your mind sweetheart?" He smiles at you smugly.

"Nothing" you say a little quickly. He chuckles. You're enjoying this, the to and fro between you to, even if you had lost that one. He seems to be enjoying it too, his eyes were twinkling, dark pools staring at you.

You join him in bed, under the sheets, wrapping around each other, impossibly close. He kisses you softly on the forehead. "Goodnight princess."

You smile to yourself in the dark, thinking how lucky you are, to be in Eddie's arms.

@eddiesprincess86