#experimenting with pinned posts continues...

[tripleyeeet]

THE ROGUE TAX (2)

SUMMARY: Fed up with paying Astarion to pick all the locks, you force yourself to learn the hard way.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader (reads as Gender Neutral but future chapters will be femme focused, just a heads up!)

WORD COUNT: 2,635

WARNINGS: Short nightmare sequence, too much sexual tension, slight mentions of a handkink, inappropriate lock pick teaching.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I'm posting these super early but day two of the Haunted Hoedown! This time the prompt is "finders keepers!" I honestly had so much fun with this one, so hopefully all the new Astarion fans that've followed me in the last day enjoy? Love you guys. :))))

Also I was originally going to make all of these challenge fics separate but I've since decided to make it more of a connected fic so... that's a thing now? I'll link the last chapter below!

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

“I wasn’t aware you were so proficient at lock picking.” 

You smirk at Astarion’s false praise, busying your hands against the lock’s mechanism. You’ve only been at it for five or six, maybe seven tops but you can already tell it’ll be a while. The lock itself is tough; covered in a layer of thick rust. Plus, being that it’s a chest and not a door, it’s a bit more advanced than you’re used to.

“Yes, well, not all of us are vampires that can woo their way through a padlock.” 

In response, Astarion laughs, throwing his head back so dramatically that from the corner of your eye, it looks as if he’s lost his head for a moment. “You do realize who you’re talking to, correct?”

You hum out a response and push the short hook further in, feeling the pressure of a loose pin hit the end. When that happens, you grin to yourself and slide closer to the chest, biting your bottom lip in excitement. 

Over the last few weeks, you and the rest of the group had come upon some interesting findings. A cave inside a well, a few hidden cellars around the surrounding the goblin camp, a hidden chest or two. At first, it was exciting, getting to experience the joys of a good treasure hunt but quickly such feelings fell once you discovered how difficult it was to break into said things without the help of Astarion and his seemingly magic hands.

“I know you’re excited to prove yourself, darling, but why don’t you let me finish things off, hm? It’ll go a lot quicker.” 

You shake your head and continue your ministrations, carefully pushing the hook further in, feeling that alleviated pressure of another pin. “I’m tired of relying on you and your bloody rogue tax.” 

After agreeing that Astarion would just pick every lock your party found for a price, it was evident he was more than willing to take more than he was owed. Saying things like I did all the work or you wouldn’t be here if not for me, it was obvious he was exploiting you. Using his roguish charms to earn himself a bigger cut despite doing next to nothing else. 

It was frustrating, to say the least. Another minor annoyance to add to his long list of negative personality traits, and lately you were determined to combat it. To learn the trade for yourself so that every piece of treasure found could remain solely yours. 

“I’m sure everyone is but that’s the price you pay for a professional.” 

You roll your eyes and continue to fiddle, feeling his gaze glued to the positioning of your hands —how your fingers tighten and twist around the metal instrument. 

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you at least a little bit nervous —having his eyes on you. Across your palms, you can feel the slick of sweat collecting with each new movement, while behind you, you can practically feel Astarion’s judgement throughout, silently picking apart all of your mistakes. 

“You’re doing—“

You shush him angrily before he can continue, knowing he’s trying to break your concentration. Knowing that he thinks that if he can prove to be enough of a distraction you’ll end up slipping up and giving in. 

“I was just going to tell you about the wonderful job you’re doing.” His tone is laced with sarcasm. Drenched in a thick layer of impatience that has you groaning under your breath. 

“Isn’t there someone else you can bother?”

“No.”

You know there is. In the other room of the abandoned building you currently find yourselves in, at least four other people are rooting through the rubble. Most likely they’re stationed in their usual areas. Gale’s probably next to the stack of bookshelves with Karlach, telling her all about his collection back at the camp while Wyll and Shadowheart are searching through the cellar in hopes of more wine. 

“You sure?”

For a moment you debate telling him to go keep watch with Lae’zel just so that he’ll shut up but the thought dissipates once you feel him flop onto the floor beside you with a groan. 

“Everyone else is so dull,” he complains. His line of slight flickers between your face and hands, watching the way they remain almost too still as he speaks. “They’re all do this do that, and for what?”

You shrug your shoulders ever so slightly, unsure of what he means.

“They’re all living for other people, darling. Other causes. Everything they do serves a higher purpose and for that reason alone, they’re boring.”

Despite your previous determination your hands release themselves from the padlock before you find yourself readjusting —moving to plop down next to him. “You think everyone’s boring because they’re selfless?”

“Predictable,” he corrects, pointing a loose finger in your direction. “All of them talk too much about a future that may not even come considering we’re infected and have little idea on how to remedy the situation.” 

You’re not sure where this rant is coming from but you welcome it considering it’s been weeks since you’ve had a normal conversation that didn’t revolve around mapping or looting or combat. Weeks since you’ve taken a moment to learn about the people you find yourself in constant contact with. 

“Some people just don’t like looking back.” 

There’s a hint of surprise in his eyes when you respond as if he wasn’t expecting such an answer. Or really, maybe an answer at all. All at once his face seems to rise in thought, taking a moment to absorb the words before he hums in response, pursing his lips. “Yes, well, I suppose some people don’t have a past worth running from.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

The tadpole behind your eye wriggles for his attention before you can even think to suppress it. Working to pull him in as you stare at one another, narrowing your eyes at the sudden cerebral contact. At first, he’s reluctant. You can feel the pushing sensation suggesting that you stop. That you should stick to the confines of your own mind rather than pestering him, but quicker than you can move away to agree, it’s as if you’re sucked back in again. Pulled by the very thread of your own brain matter to see flashes of a life you assume to be his.

The first thing you see is candlelight. A flickering of warm hues that dance across wooden interiors. It’s almost dizzying the way the light shifts across your vision, forcing you to close your eyes. Next to you, you can hear Astarion breathing heavily. Deep inhales followed by even deeper exhales that you swiftly use as a metronome to carry your focus. To aid your tadpole’s connection. 

Swallowing hard, you listen to the beats of his breath, feeling them take over your chest as the vision in front of you grows to reveal bits of cobblestone. In the background, you can hear the faint sounds of scuttling feet. The dripping of water. A hungry growl followed by an even hungrier gnaw of flesh that squelches on your tongue. 

You can taste the iron —feel the fur and bones of an unknown animal brush against your lips and gums. All of it swirls around your mouth like a tornado of overstimulating sensations, forcing the vision to pass as you reach for your throat, coughing up nothing but your own spit despite how real it feels. 

It’s apparent then what Astarion means. That some people aren’t always blessed with the privilege of running away. That people like him don’t have the means of calling upon allies to aid them through the awful shit that is reality. 

Even with such little context, you can sense through his tadpole that he’s alone in this life. Alone before the Illithid —alone now. And more than likely, he’ll be alone after it’s all over, in death or otherwise. 

Rubbing your throat —trying your best to get rid of the tainted feeling of skin and bone from your mouth, you feel empathy rather than sympathy. An understanding of his words as you look toward him, noticing the far-off look in his eye before he blinks and travels back.

“I only showed you that to save the explanation,” he says, and whether or not it’s true you merely just nod, welcoming the silence. The tranquil hush of two people attempting to navigate the other. 

It doesn’t last long. In between, there are a few moments of background noise. The sound of echoing footsteps and muffled voices. You know it’s the others looting just as you should be, but neither of you moves to join until Astarion eventually clears his throat, signalling change. 

“Anyway, they’re all in their own worlds, coasting on the wings of optimism.” He flicks his hand around the air while rolling his eyes. “It’s disgusting and partly why I choose your company above theirs.” 

Letting yourself fall back into your usual, somewhat antagonistic rhythm, you give him a curious look. “Partly, huh?”

“Don’t get too excited,” he quips, the edge of his lip twitching into that usual grin of his. “The other part is the potential of your blood, darling.”

“Ah yes. And here I was assuming you were just following me around so that you could steal my treasure.”

Both of your eyes move back to the unbroken padlock. It’s the only thing in this room that seems to be worth either of your time and Astarion knows it. It’s why he’s been so keen on your failure. 

“You know, I could help you if you like. Show you a thing or two so that the next time this happens you don’t have to rely on me.”

It’s tempting, even if you know that you’ll be taxed to all hell. Whatever spoils you find will ultimately be cut in half and, more than likely, he’ll sweeten the deal for himself by claiming first pick. 

“What’s the price?”

He shoots you a look of offence, clutching his chest. “My dear, I’d never dare put a price on the education of thievery.”

You hold back a grin, pressing your lips together, watching the way he quickly springs into action, motioning for you to hand him your tools. When you do he begins to explain the process, showcasing all the tips and tricks against the air with careful precision. Which would be helpful if you weren’t so focused on his hands rather than his words. On the way they curl around the handles of your tools, tightening with every gesture performed. 

Astarion’s got nicer hands than most. Long and thin and surprisingly well-manicured for someone who spends most of his time in the forest or drinking the blood of unsuspecting animals. And guiltily enough staring at them so intently just reminds you of that night he drained your neck. 

You can still feel the pressure of his fingers against your head. The way they roughly cupped you like a goblet of wine. Despite the fear in that moment, you’re now able to look back at that memory almost fondly. A moment of potential weakness for you somehow became a moment of trust for him and as a result, here you were now, acting almost friendly amid a terrible situation. 

It makes you grin, prompting Astarion to stop his explanation and narrow his eyes. 

“Are you even listening?”

“Hm?”

There’s a knowing glance that befalls his face then. A transition of clarity that has his mouth opening and closing before he hands you your tools. “Might be best if we take a more hands on approach.” 

You look at him confused, letting the hooks in your hand lazily rest in your palm as you watch him hop to his knees and begin to guide you. 

“I want you to do exactly what you were doing before, alright? Use the hook to push the pins.” 

Despite your continued confusion, you follow his position by kneeling in front of the chest and popping the hook into the hole, digging around the darkened space until you feel the shift of that first pin. 

“Got it?” You spare him a glance and a nod, watching him crawl towards you, positioning his chest firmly against your back before reaching out to hold your wrists. “Now, take that other hook of yours and situate it at the base of the barrel.”

Doing exactly that, you feel his fingers slowly slip over yours, navigating you through the trials of getting that second pin to shift as the barrel turns in your grasp. At first, it’s difficult. Mostly because all you can focus on is the breath that hits the side of your face. The heat of the air that travels down your spine in nervous waves you’re almost certain he can feel. But then you’re reminded that you’ve been here before; stuck within his heated grasp. 

“That’s it. Just like that.” 

You’re practically holding your breath as you find that third pin, feeling Astarion’s hand shift you in the right direction before you lose it at the last second. Ever so gently, his chest shifts upwards against your back so that he can rest his chin on your shoulder to get a better look. A newfound weight that makes you close your eyes and release a bit of air from your nose, realizing how intimate this is. 

Somehow it feels even more personal than letting him feed off of you. Perhaps because the bloodsucking was for his own benefit, knowing Astarion, moments like that where he’s able to take rather than give mean next to nothing to him. They’re just moments of manipulation. A series of tactical steps he takes to get whatever he wants whereas this is different. This is for you. 

You’re not sure how to describe it other than an offering of trust. Maybe it’s a token of appreciation for letting him consume. Maybe it’s nothing more than a game to make you squirm beneath his grasp. Either or, it’s an experience you know you’ll be thinking of for days to come, attempting to decipher its intent.

“Once you feel that final pin I want you to ease it in gently, alright? Be delicate.” 

You offer him no response as you listen to his words. If you did, you’re certain he’d make some offhand comment that would only further the lewdness of it all, grinning like the mischievous prick he is. 

“After that, you should feel a little shift and —voilà!” 

The chest clicks open. Your breath releases in a long, much-needed stream but Astarion makes no effort to move from your frame. Instead, he continues to cling to your hands, angling his chin so that when you eventually look at him you’re practically touching noses. 

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“It’s that easy?”

Slowly but surely he slips from your frame with a nod, his hands sliding across the expanse of your sleeves, coating your skin in a wave of goosebumps as he moves to stand. “Yes, but keep it hush, hush. Wouldn’t want the others to find out, would we?”

You shake your head, a small smile creeping across your lips as you then turn towards your reward, gripping both edges of the lid before pushing it up. Inside there are only a few items. A few spell scrolls and some fabric but it’s enough to get you excited regardless, realizing that it’s yours.

“Not bad for your first go.” Peeking over your shoulder, Astarion watches as you sift through everything carefully, unrolling each scroll to read the details before looking back up and raising a brow. 

“You sure there’s no tax?” you ask, but all he does is laugh and shake his head. 

“Finders keepers, darling. As I promised.” 

[mvskedxrtist]

Not so Pure Anymore

Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: PnP (Porn no Plot), Daddy Kink, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Degration, Humiliation Kink, Sensory Deprivation

Nᴏᴛᴇ: Guess who's back y'all! Took some time off because of stress but also just because of school, I wanted to to focus more on my school work and all but I'm back. I'm slowly gonna start posting again with a welcome to Simeon here. This probably won't be my best work, so I'm saying sorry in advance.

AMAB!Reader x Virgin!Simeon - Not so Pure Anymore

Simeon didn't know how you tempted him to sin yet he doesn't regret it. He was laying down on his bed, his eyes covered with your tie as you undressed each other and kissed his neck all over. "Y-Y/N..~" He whimpered softly while kissing you passionately.

You chuckled under your breath and pinned Simeon down to the bed as you slid your cock right into his ass, groaning softly as you started pounding his asshole fast, loud slaps filling the room along with the angel's moans. "Aww, look at my dirty angel~ looking so broken already with just a few thrusts~.. I wonder how many people have taken you down on their dicks..."

Simeon was blushing furiously and whimpered while he could feel his asshole be stretched by you. His face was flushed as he thought through your words. Both of you knew that Simeon's never been with someone, but teasing him was just fun to you. "N-no one, Daddy~ o-only you~ you're the only one~" He whined a bit louder while you leaned closed and thrusted harder in him.

"Wow Simeon~ I wonder if poor Luke can hear your moans from across the hall?~ You wouldn't want his innocence to be gone like yours, now would you?~" You kept taunting him while slowing down a bit, looking down at Simeon to see his flushed face. The angel didn't want Luke to see him like this, so why was his body reacting so lewdly to your words?

His wings came out of his back to try and cover his face but you spread his wings apart so then he couldn't try to cover himself. "Wow you're a dirty slut~ you're leaking from just my words!~" Simeon had moaned loudly once you touched his wings, his back arching while he tried to hold your hands.

Simeon could feel something throbbing inside of him and whimpered, his own cock leaking precum as you held his hips tight and thrusted faster inside of his asshole. "H-hah~ f-fuck...~ Oh fuck I wanna cum~ I need yours please!~" He begged you endlessly as you grunted and leaned towards his ear. "Aww~ you want my cum, slut? You want me to fill you up and get you pregnant?~" You whispered in his ear while Simeon nodded his head wildly and came all over his chest in response as he could feel you getting deeper.

You slammed yourself into his asshole as deep as you could, groaning loudly while you came inside of him, both of you panting heavily while you just continued to come inside of Simeon. You chuckled and pulled the tie off of Simeon, seeing some tears in his eyes from the euphoric experience. "Damn... That felt amazing~" You groaned and chuckled, laying down next to him without pulling out.

You kissed his face all over and chuckled, wiping the tears away. "Seems you're not so pure anymore~ Think anyone's going to find out?"

[imsilay]

AKRASIA

little spoiler :)

i was about to sleep but i couldn’t get this out of my head :’

edit: POSTED!

art cr: @kinky-thirsty-reader

You let out a sigh as he continued to caress your knees with his big calloused hands. Drawing small circles or writing his name with his fingers, invisibly marking you as his. “Pay attention to me.” he mumbled for nth time. He just wanted your attention to be on him, constantly. The couch you were sitting was big enough for him to fit but he preferred to sit on his knees before you. “Bitte, Maus.” he pressed a kiss on your knee through the fabric of your long skirt. You couldn’t sit, eat, read, even breathe without him. He was ridiculously obsessed with you. You feel his big arms snake around your waist as you ignored his pleas. Now he was like a child trying to find comfort on their mother’s lap. His head buried into your lower abdomen and his arms tightly wrapped around your waist. It was the most comfortable place on earth for him. As you continue your reading, his hand grabbed your wrist and put your small, soft hand on his head. You understood what he wanted and if it meant he was going to be quiet you’d gladly oblige him. Your fingers brushed on his hair. He let out a satisfied humm and held you tighter. It was the best experience he ever had. Your presence was always comforting to him that he wouldn’t wear his mask around you. And that was why he was so obsessed with you. Whenever you weren’t around he became nervous and panicked. If he wasn’t deployed or away from you for any reason, he had to be on or in you. His massive frame was between your legs as he clung to your waist for dear life. As if he was afraid that you’d leave.

After you finished another chapter of your book he decided it was enough reading. “I’m better than this stupid book.” he mumbled and tossed your book to other couch before climbing on top of you. Was it possible that he was jealous of a book? Because when he threw it away he kissed you like he was trying to prove it. “You’re so childish.” you rolled your eyes and tried to reach for your book. “Me? Do you really think i’m childish, Maus?” König raised an eyebrow and pinned your hands above your head. When he hovered over you like that he definitely wasn’t looking childish. “Yes.” you muttered and he could see how your pupils dilated. “Then let me prove you otherwise.” he looked intensely into your eyes and pinned your body down to couch with his weight. You could feel his toned chest against yours. The was his body rubbed against yours as he leaned in and kissed your jaw made you wet. “I love it when you challenge me, Maus. But in this… You can’t win.” you bit your tongue to not moan. One of his hands stayed cuffing your hands above your head, the other one tilted your chin up. “Don’t mistake my desperation for you with childishness. I can be really rough with you.” his big hand wrapped around your neck. “I’m capable of it.” he mumbled and squeezed your neck ever so slightly reminding how dangerous it was to mess with him. “But i just love you too much. I can’t bring myself to do it.” his thumb caressed your pulse.

now i can take a nap peacefully.

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ being wrapped in your arms feels like coming home ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 1,820

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: here is a little drabble in honor of toji's birthday! this piece was originally titled as "adoration" but I changed it to this instead. I'm taking a small posting break, but I'll be back to my regular schedule within a week! I'm sorry if I haven't been responding to tags or messages, but I will do so soon <3 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and I'm sending all my well wishes out to you! xo

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: widow toji; age gap (reader is 30 while toji is in his early 40s); a little angsty; toji attempting to break up with you but failing because he's oh so in love

toji overstayed his welcome which was only supposed to last the scorching heat of summer, but he found himself lingering through the quiet stillness of fall. winter came in with a brisk chill and gloomy skies, and that's when toji knew it was time for him to end things with you.

he’s lost interest far quicker in previous relationships. they served their purpose of healing over the wound in his heart, of soothing away the ache of loneliness. he oftens forgets that he was once a loyal, loving husband whenever he abandons yet another fling.

the difference, however, is he at least had the guts to verbally cut things off before.

fucking pathetic, he thinks as he scolds himself. he's been a coward, reducing his actions to disappearing before the sunlight peeks through the horizon, and avoiding any chance of waking you up. he ensures that he is never there to see the way your brows furrow with concern when your hand meets the cold pillow, because otherwise he would falter in his attempt to escape.

this has been going on for over two weeks now but last night was the first time you've actually snapped at his cold, detached behavior. he approached the argument with nonchalance to wither you down, shrugging off the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach and then walking out halfway through the fight.

he stayed at a motel thinking that maybe you have finally taken the hint that he's done.

he arrives back to his apartment only to be met with unfamiliar silence. the entrance of his home is dark and lifeless, and it's so quiet he can even hear a pin drop. there's a tightness in his chest, followed by a wave of disappointment that runs over him like a feverish shiver.

despite his hard headed decision, he's still anticipating on hearing your lovely voice to greet him as he walks through the door.

he knows it's selfish.

toji expected many things to happen after last night's fight. he figured the reaction to him leaving you (again) would be far bigger. a screaming phone call or a string of cursing text messages to call him out on his shitty behavior.

after all he deserves it for acting like an insufferable asshole.

he tries to swallow his guilt but it remains lodged in his throat when he acknowledges that this might actually be the end. 

the expression on his features falls.

it’s better this way, he consoles, dragging his feet across the floor to approach his kitchenette. he shrugs off his beaten up, oversized coat and tosses it over one of the chairs. he opens one of the cupboards, and grabs a mug to prepare himself a cup of tea.

she’s too young to settle for a guy like me, he continues. widowed with two kids who he barely sees anymore, working paycheck to paycheck just to make ends meet…

a deadbeat.

he exhales, swirling his brew in his ceramic cup. the aroma of sweet leaves dances up the spiral of steam to kiss his nose.

she deserves more than me.

he places the kettle down but stares at the cup mindlessly, losing all train of thought as his hands grip onto the edge of the counter. 

he can acknowledge that his insecurities are clouding his judgement on something truly special, even though this was only ever meant to be purely physical.

except, the sex was growing more intimate. the experience wasn't about pleasure for him anymore. he would find himself losing all focus to the depth of your pretty eyes, stealing kiss after kiss like your mouth was the source of where all his happiness belongs.

belonged.

belonged.

it’s over now, he thinks again. it has to be.

a faint patter of footsteps distracts him, prompting him to ease his hold on the counter as the muscles on his face relax. his heart steadies itself, and he draws in a breath when he feels two arms delicately twine around his waist.

“you’re...still here...” he points out in shock. 

he feels you press your forehead into his back. “of course, where else would I be?” 

he clears his throat to release the guilt then spins on his heel to face you.

"I thought you might have taken off," he bluntly states as he rests his lower back against the counter.

his heart swells, emanates flurries of golden sparks when he meets your gorgeous irises. the will to carry on with his decision crumbles when he catches the corner of your mouth tick into a slight grin.

"I thought about it," you reply casually, loosening your grip to place your palms flat on the side of his stomach. "but the truth is I'm worried about you and I just…want to talk things out…make sure you're okay...”

“I’m the one acting like a jerk and you’re worried about me?” he blurts.

you quirk your brow at the slip of his question. “so, you know you’re acting like a jerk?”

toji’s eyes widen slightly, a hint of pink tainting his cheek. “I asked the question first.”

you purse your lips playfully, aware of the crack that's been revealed and ready to swing once again with another blow.

“it’s because you’re acting like a jerk that I’m worried about you,” you explain, “you’re not yourself when you’re unsettled about something…”

his face warms, the hue of pink deepening into a stronger blush. the familiarity of pointing out his personal traits feels all too homely. seven months shouldn’t feel like a forever but in this bubble with you time ceases to exist.

you trail the pads of your finger tips up his torso, your hands clasping around the back of his neck as you press all your soft and sweet parts right up against the frame of his body.

the brush of your lips on his scar prompts him to flutter his eyes close. he fails to stop himself from holding you then, his firm hands reaching for the outline of your waist

“so,” you murmur with a tempting kiss as you return to your question, “you know you’re acting like a jerk then?”

please don’t make me say it, he thinks, please don’t make me unravel right in front of your eyes.

he squeezes your side, whispering a defeated “listen…”

“did I do something wrong?” you question, a hint of pain laced through every vowel which only makes his heart ache further. “did something happen?”

toji shakes his head.

“it’s not you,” he grumbles. “look, you asked me a couple of weeks ago if this thing between us was serious and…it shouldn’t be.”

you narrow your gaze, tilting your head with adorable confusion that makes toji want to kiss you right there on the spot.

he can feel you pluck at the fabric of his sweater nervously, “why not?”

toji drops his head and sighs.

“c’mon, doll, let’s be real. I’ve got nothing to give you other than a good fuck in this shitty apartment. you're better off finding someone else and I don't want to waste your time”

you press your mouth into a firm line. “your behavior…” you reply, nipping your bottom lip slightly as you gather your thoughts. “are you acting like this because you…want to end things with me?”

toji has never felt smaller. you’ve reduced him into a shriveled pea rolling around his scuffed up boot. “look, it’s better this way, alright?” he admits with a raise of his head, still refusing to outwardly say what you easily deduced. “it's better to move on before things get too complicated…”

the silence hangs heavy in the air, the tension so thick toji feels like he can’t breathe properly. his heart rattles with no restraint, and he finds himself suddenly lightheaded. an apology rests on the tip of his tongue, ready to take back everything he just bombarded you with but his throat simply tightens once more when your hands cradle his strong jaw.

“I like your apartment,” you quietly speak, “your bed sheets always smell so good, and you fixed the water pressure after I complained that it sucked…”

toji blinks back his surprise.

“I also notice that you burn the candle that I got you and that you switched laundry detergents when your old one gave me that weird rash,” you giggle and toji couldn’t help but huff out an embarrassed laugh himself. “the windows let in the best kind of sunlight, and it’s always so cozy in here…”

you press your lips against his mouth to leave a chaste kiss, “as for the company…” you add on, nuzzling the tip of your nose over his, “I consider you more than just a good fuck.”

toji can physically feel himself wilting underneath the heat of your gaze. “I’m just looking out for you, doll.”

"you can look out for me by making me breakfast instead of running away from me..."

he looks serious but his eyes are sincere, holding a level of tenderness that he only reserves for you. his palm moves to seek out your lower back, a hint of pressure pulling you back into his warmth.

your lover has stayed tight lipped about his past, but over his period with you he's found himself spilling out a few secrets here and there.

"I haven't done this in a long time," he vulnerably admits.

"I know," you reassure him, "but...the real question is, do you want this?"

he parts his lips ready to seal the last nail in the coffin, ready to give you the chance to walk out of his life for good. but you're gazing up at him from underneath your eyelashes, your determined stare an opening of your own mercy. your plush, supple lips summoning his cowardice into oblivion.

"toji?"

his breath hitches, his apprehension silenced by the urgency of his desire.

you're so lovely, he thinks. you feel like home.

"I want you," he reveals, his deep voice smoky and untethered, releasing enough sentiment in those three words that he can feel you tremble in his arms. "I just don't deserve you. I don't want you getting caught up in my bullshit..."

""you're a lot sweeter than you look, you know?" you run your fingers through the streaks of his black hair, combing it back to reveal his forehead. "you deserve to be happy, toji, and...and I think I can make you happy..."

your aura beams with delight when he flashes you a wolfish grin in return. a smile you've grown to adore so deeply. his apology comes in the form of a kiss, one that's gentle and slow. a stroke of fire burns up the back of your neck, making you quiver in places when he glides his tongue across yours. you hum softly into his lips while he releases a content sigh, the barrier he's been keeping up turns to ashes beneath your feet.

[mightyflamethrower]

15 Facts About E. Jean Carroll’s Allegations Against Trump the Media Don’t Want You to Know

1.  Bergdorf Goodman has no surveillance video of the alleged incident.

2.  There are zero witnesses to the alleged sexual attack.

3.  Carroll first came forward — conveniently — with the allegations while promoting her book What Do We Need Men For? in 2019, which featured a list of “The Most Hideous Men of My Life.”

4.  Carroll was unable to remember when this alleged attack even occurred. She told her lawyer in 2023, “This question, the when, the when, the date, has been something I’ve [been] constantly trying to pin down.” She has jumped years — originally beginning with 1994, then moving to 1995, and even floating to 1996. She cannot remember the season in which the alleged attack occurred either.

5.  The Donna Karan blazer dress she claims to have worn during the alleged incident was not even available at the time of her claims. Trump Attorney Boris Epshteyn told reporters, “She said, ‘This is the dress I wore in 1994.’ They went back, they checked. The dress wasn’t even made in 1994.”

“And that’s why the date’s moved around. This is the 80s. Is it the 90s? Is it the 2000s? President Trump has consistently stated that he was falsely accused, and he has the right to defend himself,” he added.

6.  She never came forward with these allegations over the years despite constantly being open about sexuality, posting things that were very sexual in nature on social media — many of which Trump has shared. They include remarks such as “How do you know your ‘unwanted sexual advance’ is unwanted, until you advance it?” and “Sex Tip I Learned From My Dog: When in heat, chase the male until he collapses with exhaustion … then jump him!”

7.  She said she was never raped, telling the New York Times’ podcast, The Daily,“Every woman gets to choose her word. Every woman gets to choose how she describes it. This is my way of saying it. This is my word. My word is ‘fight.’ My word is not the ‘victim’ word. I have not — I have not been raped,” she continued. “I have — something has not been done to me. I fought. That’s the thing.”

8.  She named her cat “Vagina.” “Her dog, or her cat, was named ‘Vagina.’ The judge wouldn’t allow us to put that in — all of these things — but with her, they could put in anything: Access Hollywood,” Trump told CNN.

9.  Joe Tacopina, an attorney for Trump, pointed out in May 2023 that Carroll’s entire story has incredible similarities to a 2012 episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. In that episode, titled “Theatre and Tricks,” an individual talks about a rape fantasy in Bergdorf Goodman — the same department store where Carroll claims the incident took place.

10.  Speaking of shows, Carroll loved Trump’s show The Apprentice.

“I was a big fan of the show. Very impressed by it,” Carroll said on the witness stand, adding that she “had never seen such a witty competition on TV, and it was about something worthwhile, competing.”

11.  Carroll made a joke associating sex with Bergdorf Goodman in a November 1993 edition of Elle, which was before the alleged Trump attack took place. As Breitbart News detailed:

Carroll was responding to a letter from a female reader concerned that she was having trouble achieving orgasm through sexual intercourse alone while the reader said that she could climax through foreplay. “Is there any way I could learn to reach orgasm through sex?” asked the reader in the November 1993 edition. “Maybe books I could read?” Carroll replied with the following advice (emphasis added): Dear Snowed Under: Stop flagellating yourself. Gadzooks! At least you have orgasms. And if that isn’t spontaneous sex I don’t know what is. Most women (about 70 percent) experience difficulties climaxing through intercourse alone. So you’re perfectly normal. Begin by reading For Yourself by Dr. Lonnie Barbach. She’ll give you excellent instructions on how to have an orgasm during intercourse. Then after 313 queenhell love-wiggles, move on to Gretta Garbo’s favorite love position – the top. (In erotic scenes, Garbo is always above the man. So are Sharon Stone, Bette Midler and Katherine Hepburn). Indeed, this location works better for women than the fourth floor of Bergdorf’s.

12.  Carroll is financially backed by anti-Trump Democrat megadonor Reid Hoffman, who has openly admitted to visiting convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein’s private island.

13.  Democrat party activists back her as well, as Breitbart News detailed:

Indeed, one of Carroll’s attorneys is Roberta Kaplan — a Democrat Party activist who led the group Time’s Up. She left the activist group after it was revealed she was aiding former New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo in attempting to discredit the Democrat’s accusers. It served as a great irony as Time’s Up seeks to defend women from what it claims is discrimination and harassment. This fact has led to mounting speculation that Kaplan only gets involved in cases that she views as politically expedient. Further, Federal District Judge Lewis Kaplan is overseeing the process and has connections to Carroll’s other attorney, Shawn Crowley. She was actually a law clerk for Judge Kaplan, and he officiated her wedding. That aside, Trump has denied knowing the left-wing activist as the only evidence of any contact is a single picture with Carroll greeting Trump and his ex-wife Ivana at an event greeting line over 35 years ago. Carroll has yet to provide solid evidence of this alleged encounter and will not use the dress that she claims had DNA on it from this alleged incident. Even Trump publicly said the dress should be part of the case. Further, there are no eyewitnesses of this alleged incident, which supposedly occurred at the popular New York City department store.

14.  The lawsuit was only able to proceed after Democrats created the Adult Survivors Act in 2022. She conveniently pursued this suit in November following the law going into effect, which allowed her to avoid the statute of limitations for this case.

15.  Carroll once said, “Most people think of rape as sexy.”

Donald Trump Jr. also retweeted a list of facts about Carroll, urging others to take a look:

- She couldn't recall the date, month, season, or year the incident happened -

She never told anyone about it, despite being publicly obsessed with her own sexuality -

The dress she claims to have been wearing didn't exist at the time -

Her description of the dressing room at Bergdorf Goodman was inaccurate, making her sequence of events impossible -

Her lawsuit was bankrolled by Jeffrey Epstein pal and Democrat (and Nikki Haley) mega-donor Reid Hoffman -

Democrats created a law (The Adult Survivors Act in 2022) to enable her lawsuit to proceed - Her accusation is the exact plotline of an episode of Law & Order (one of her "favorite shows") -

Trump's Apprentice was also one of her favorite shows -

She has a history of falsely accusing men of r*pe, including Les Moonves - She told Anderson Cooper, "most people think of r*pe as being sexy. Think of the fantasies." -

She made a career promoting promiscuity, even writing glowingly of sexual assault and naming her cat Vagina

We owe Stalin and Hitler a huge apology. We are ever so bad as they ever were. This isn't Justice. Its punishment for for disobeying the deep state elites.

[joonsytip]

The Selfish Dilemma || Jeonghan - Part 1

Pairings: Jeonghan x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It was love at first sight ever since you laid eyes on Jeonghan. To him, you are the annoying co-worker who keeps asking him out. No one is new to your courting agenda which only pisses off Jeonghan but what happens when you stop, all at once....

Word Count: 6k

Warnings (specific to this part): this part is SFW, pinning, unrequited love, lots of office jargons, profanity, tears, mention of alcohol consumption, aloof Jeonghan, reader is a love sick puppy, second lead Seokmin, wholesome co-workers Wonwoo, Soonyoung, Jihoon and Joshua, wholesome bestfriend Myeongho (lmk if I missed any)

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

A/N: To be added to the taglist for the next part please send an ask or comment under this or the announcement post.

Please heart, comment and reblog, it would really help to keep me going <3

[Svt Main Masterlist] [Svt Flick - Fic Masterlist]

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Epilogue

The cubicles are neat, the marble floors are shining brighter than crystals even after getting padded every now then. The fruity smell of the room refresher is strong enough to go on for days but the continuous clicking of keyboards sound loud enough to give a year worth migraines.

You duly wait by the office entrance, your daily routine, holding a takeaway paper cup which contains Iced Cinnamon Cappuccino.

A familiar car passes by towards the parking and you know that the person you're waiting for is gonna grace you with his presence soon.

Just in cue, that person walks by ignoring you and passes through the security check. You line up behind him, instantly feeling better just by seeing his face.

"How do you always manage to look so gorgeous?", you ask him giddily knowing very well that you won't be getting a response from him.

The security at the check smiles when you direct your requesting gaze at her. She let's you pass by and you're doing large strides in your heels.

"Here..", you are handing him the beverage cup, "Have a great day, Hannie!", you wish him and he doesn't even bat an eyelash as he saunters over to avail the elevator.

You stand there watching him as your lips curl up because your gazes meet for the first time for the day before the elevator door closes.

When you had switched to the current company you're working for two years ago as a Senior Developer you had never thought in your wildest dreams that you'd be turning into a lovesick puppy for the technical analyst of the team you had gotten assigned to.

Yoon Jeonghan got you enchanted the moment you had your eyes on him. You could vividly remember, it was your first day after getting assigned to a project and your manager was introducing you to your teammates.

Everyone seemed nice and greeted you with enthusiasm except one. Yoon Jeonghan was stoic throughout and for you, that heart within your chest thumped vigorously, eyes glued to him while the surroundings seemed to freeze.

Love at first sight was just a funny concept until Jeonghan made you experience it.

You would admit it unabashed that working in corporate world had given you chance to meet a lot of person but no one could ever do justice to suits more then Jeonghan.

Always been a spontaneous person and upon getting a confirmation that he's single your journey of courting him kickstarted.

It's been two years since then.

Everytime you ask him out, Jeonghan rejects you even without sparing a moment of thought.

You are currently working on debugging a piece of code which every other member of your team failed to solve and it ultimately fell into your court.

"I'm gonna run by the canteen, do you need anything?"

You lift your head to see Seokmin hovering over the partition of your desk.

"One strong black coffee, thanks Min.", you quickly say before focusing on the screen again.

You don't see the empathetic smile Seokmin throws at you.

It's almost afternoon and your prying eyes are stuck on the door of the cabin, adjacent to your desk.

Soon Jeonghan comes out of his cabin which prompts you to follow him to have lunch to together.

It's same everyday, Jeonghan not intending to let you sit with him but you do it anyways.

"Did the bug get resolved?", he asks, eyes set on the plate, "I think we have been stuck on this on for long, need to get it resolved asap."

You chew on the salad filling in your mouth to quickly gulp it and answer him, "I got the chance to look at it today. Hopefully, I wouldn't be spending much time on it."

Jeonghan nods making a brief eye contact with you.

So you proceed with the most important part of your daily ritual.

"Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?", you ask.

"No", comes his recorded response.

You smile mischievously, "Why? I thought I should be rewarded for fixing the code?"

Jeonghan scoffs, "You're knocking on the wrong door. Ask your manager to reward you. If he doesn't, go to the HR department and discuss the matter."

"But they're not you, Hannie.", you slip out the nickname on purpose knowing it irks him, "You're the one I want."

Jeonghan blatantly ignores you and when he's done eating, he cleans the corner of his lips with the tissues and then walks out of the canteen grabbing a water bottle.

Even his back profile should have a seperate fandom of its own, you ponder dreamily.

"Snap out of it, you're drooling."

You crane your neck to see that the seat beside you already occupied by Seokmin.

"Another rejection?" he asks and you nod.

The two of you continue to eat silently before Seokmin brings up the topic again, "Join our team Y/N, Wonwoo is moving out."

You give him a pointed look wishing it was as easy as it sounded. When you started working in the team, you worked under Jeonghan and within this span, everyone moved out or transferred except you. To work closer to Jeonghan and out of sentimentality, you stayed.

"It'll be a lot less hectic", Seokmin assures and points at your face, "Your concealor is doing a very bad job at hiding those dark circles."

You gasp and hit his arm, "Atleast Pandas got a competition even though they're cute and I'm just..."

"Beautiful." Seokmin says in a beat, "You are beautiful Y/N and Jeonghan is blind for not appreciating a woman like you."

He says with so much sincerity that you have to cower your gaze away.

"How long until you stop pursuing him?", he asks.

So that I can start courting you, he doesn't say.

"Until he accepts or...", you sing along, "the day I run out of my patience and the rejection finally settles in my bones."

Red might be your favourite colour but currently you're seeing green.

"Who's she, Wonwoo?", you hiss, lamenting on how you have to witness such a sight.

Apparently a woman whom you've never seen before is standing too close to Jeonghan, much to your disliking and the man in the picture seems unbothered with her hogging over and he's smiling.

He's smiling at whatever nonsense she's uttering!

"She's Seonji, my replacement.", Wonwoo speaks calmly, "Since it's my last week, I'll be giving her KTs before my departure."

"You don't care about me or Seokmin, do you?", you say sadly, "How would I function at all without your inputs?"

Wonwoo is another efficient co-worker who works with Seokmin and is a very good friend of yours.

"Not everyone will be a fool to stall their growth because of sentiments Y/N.", he retorts, meaning no malice.

Your throat closes up for a moment but you somehow manage to speak, "We're not having this conversation now, Woo."

"I know this won't go anywhere but there's a limit to everything. How long until you see it's not Jeonghan but someone else who deserves you.", Wonwoo thinks it's time he rats out Seokmin's name because he himself would never.

"What do you mean by someone else?", you counter back confused.

"It's been two years Y/N, people can go through whole lot of loving in this span, don't you think he's behaviour towards you should have been different if he cared even a bit?", Wonwoo is ruthless because he knows he needs to be the one to tell you because no one else would, "Has he ever smiled at you like that?"

"Woo please stop...", your eyes are teary, voice cracking, "You think I don't know that?"

Then you are walking away, wiping your tears. When there's something on your mind you always go to the rooftop to clear your mind out, of course not alone, you always find a lot of others, some shedding tears, some smoking cigarettes or some staring at the abyss.

You don't realise how much time has passed because you don't have your phone with you. Just as you are mentally preparing yourself to indulge into work you hear the call of your name from a very familiar voice.

"Do you think this company is paying you for slacking off?", Jeonghan says nonchalantly as he stands in front of you, "I can't even reach you on your phone."

Your lips curl up instantly, tiredness disappearing from your eyes, "Did you miss me Hannie?"

Jeonghan turns back & walks towards the door. You follow.

"When you're done fixing the bug, bring it to me for review.", he continues, "The clients have scheduled a meeting with us at 7pm. Be there."

"Aye aye captain!", you say from behind, "Can I ask you a question?"

You don't wait for Jeonghan to respond and ask right away, "Do you hate me?"

"Yes.", comes another of his recorded response.

You wonder how many more yes you can take for an answer.

The meeting ends at 10 and you're quickly collecting your belongings and almost parading so that you could avail the last bus since your car is given up for servicing.

You are sure that availing the bus is far fetched so you're taking out your phone to book a cab when you hear honking.

The familiar car stops by the road where you're standing and Jeonghan rolls down the window.

"Get in, I'll drop you.", he's looking at the way ahead and you are instantly getting in the passenger's seat.

"Wanna go to a restaurant for dinner?", you ask robotically, your tone dry. Jeonghan notices and sweeps a glance at you.

You look exhausted and he hopes it's only because of work.

"No", he says, "Put your address on the system's GPS.", as if it's not already instilled in the system.

You do as asked and Jeonghan sees you putting a different address.

"Did you change places?", he asks.

"A friend's address.", you don't explain further and it doesn't resonate well with him.

You thank him when he drops you at the doorsteps and watch him drive away until the car disappears from your sight.

The product deployment is scheduled for next month meaning work's gonna get more hectic than it already is.

You are knocking on the door and upon hearing a 'come in' you enter the cabin.

Jeonghan is seated on the revolving chair, the coat is hung on the headrest meaning that his only white shirt clad body is making you salivate. His head is laid back and you want nothing more than to stroke those luscious locks with your fingers. But for now, you push away your thoughts.

"I have mailed you a scheduler for the new product release.", you inform, "I think it's best if you arrange a meeting for all the teams involved and I'll give them a walkthrough on deployment and checkout procedures."

Jeonghan immediately straightens and checks the calender before scheduling a meeting for the next day.

"Tomorrow, 5 PM.", he stretches his arms out, "Anything else?"

The sight of viens protruding through his arms almost has you choked and you think it's best for your eyes to be up, "Y-Yeah? Oh well, I'll run by the Batch Ops department, do you have anything you want me to relay to them?"

Jeonghan searches for some files and takes out one from the stack and gives it to you, "Give it to Jihoon and tell him to send me the report by EOD."

You nod and ask, "There's this movie I have been meaning to watch, do you wanna go with me?"

"No.", he responds right away and you're already turning to exit the room when Seonji enters.

"Hannie!", she's intentionally loud and emphasizing and you are almost biting your tongue when you hear the nickname you've given him, to be called by her.

Not wanting to breathe in the same room as her, you are just taking a step ahead but you freeze on hearing her next words.

"The restaurant you took me to on Tuesday after work, I recommended it to my friends and they also loved it. Let's visit again sometime!"

You head whips to look at Jeonghan, to find him already staring at you.

It hurts your pride so you walk out of the room.

You're currently in the Batch Ops department, waiting for Jihoon. The said man is always busy, running on his heels and termed as the workaholic assistant supervisor of the department.

"Hey Y/N, did Jeonghan send the file?", you nod handing him the file and remind him to send the report.

"So how's your courting agenda going on?", he always asks and is even amused by the fact that how persistent you are to get Jeonghan when he doesn't show an ounce of interest in you.

You are generally joking with him on this but today you don't throw a banter and Jihoon is quick to understand that you're having a bad day so he doesn't pry further.

And on the way back you meet Seokmin who asks you to accompany him to the designated tent bar you both often go to. You agree instantly.

That night the owners of that tent bar knew how much you hate a woman named Seonji. They already know about your love for Jeonghan, since your alcohol tolerance is terrific, you cry river worth tears for that man everytime you're wasted and they feel pity for Seokmin who has to always clean up after you.

The product release approaches and everyone is pulling late nights or all nighters. Those who working in higher posts have to almost use office as a makeshift home mainly because they are dealing directly with the foreign clients and the time zones differ.

Though you are tired tattered, you make sure a cup of coffee of his preference always awaits him when Jeonghan enters his cabin. You also arrange the files, putting sticky notes in each section so he doesn't have to waste time searching for something. You make sure the cabin smells good and the place is neat. The towels are kept warm in the bathroom attached to the cabin and his favourite fragrance is filling the air inside cabin, so even if he's spending time at office, your efforts makes him think it's home.

When the rest ask how you do this, why do you do this, your answer is simple.

Isn't this what love is, to keep giving and not expecting anything in return.

"I think it's time you move on, Y/N.", your best friend Myeongho says after he shows up at your apartment one day.

Before you could retaliate his arms are up in his defence as he continues, "You know I'm never the type to judge or disregard anything casually. But this has been going on for long and it might hurt you but it's stagnant. You both made no progress. Two years, definitely a very long time and you can appear all happy and unfazed but I know every rejection must be hurting as hell."

You don't need words, the tears those stream down your facr speak volumes. Myeongho's presence is itself soothing and maybe that's why you are not loosing yourself in pits of sorrow for the moment.

What are supposed to do, you're so in love with Jeonghan, you're so used to him, so dedicated to him.

Myeongho pats your back while he's talking to his wife on his phone. You ponder over how Myeongho met her a year ago and now they are happily married with a baby on the way.

No one's story is comparable to other, each having it's own circumstances and pace but as your best friend said yours is totally different.

Unrequited and stagnant.

The product release is a success and now the work load is a lot lesser.

And as expected you're in Jeonghan's cabin.

"Are you free today?", you ask, "Wanna go to dinner? Not as a date, some people from our & Batch Ops team would be present as well."

Jeonghan is unabashed as usual, "I'm busy today."

He isn't explaining himself, it's his way of defining things. He's implying that on other days he's rejecting your advances without a reason and today he's doing it with a reason.

This time your face falls.

"Do you hate me?", you ask.

"Yes, you're annoying."

"Would you miss me if I leave?"

"No, a good riddance."

This time your heart hurts.

You are currently in a restaurant with Seokmin, Jihoon, Chaein and Joshua both working in your team, Soonyoung of Support Team and you've managed to pull Wonwoo in this eat out.

Wonwoo is currently making a disgusted face at Seokmin, who's doing some questionable mimicking of Jihoon, the man being mimicked being totally vested in eating whatever is there on his plate.

"Isn't that Jeonghan?"

Five pair of eyes follows Soonyoung's gaze and lands on Jeonghan.

"Wait that's Yoora with--"

Seokmin is late in slapping his hand over Soonyoung mouth because you have heard the name and it rings in your ear.

Kwon Yoora, Jeonghan's ex-girlfriend. The woman accompanying him tonight.

You have heard a lot about her from your colleagues because she used to work in the company you're working in. Well you're her replacement in terms of the position when you joined in. She worked with and under Jeonghan before you did.

This is the first time you're seeing her.

"I heard they had mutual breakup, seems they're still good friends.", Joshua comments.

Your eyes are glued to the table space where Jeonghan's hand is atop Yoora's. And he's smiling as he says something to her.

He never smiles at you like that.

"You guys continue eating.", Seokmin is already up grabbing his coat, "I'll get our food packed."

When Seokmin leaves, the rest four look at you worried and you feel pity for yourself. How could you not guess, Jeonghan had never lead you on, always being indifferent, constantly rejecting all your approaches for the last two year.

He didn't like you at all, he has been saying it all along but you were to stubborn to admit and accept. But now you do.

For you, it has been always him.

For him, it would be anyone but you.

You are grabbing your belongings, "Tell Seokmin, I'll be waiting by his car."

Then you sprint out. It's only when Wonwoo calls out your name, Jeonghan notices you.

He sees you running towards the exit, only if he didn't know better, he watches as you wipe your tears while do so.

Tonight it's not only you who's suffering from heartbreak, Seokmin's heart breaks yet again seeing those tear stained cheeks, hearing those wrenching sobs. He puts you to bed and sets the food on your table so that in the middle of night when you wake up hungry, you don't have to look around for food. He runs the bath for you, sets the towels and knowing that you'd be having a terrible headache later, he keeps the glass filled with water and the medicines on the nightstand. He does more and all while wiping his own tears.

Because like you, he too knows nothing breaks like a heart.

Next day Jeonghan doesn't see you at the office entrance. You don't greet him when he walks by your desk to his cabin. It's almost afternoon and you haven't walked through the cabin door even once. At lunch you don't sit with him, you're happily chatting away with Chaein while eating.

Jeonghan thinks something is wrong with him. Everytime he hears faint sound of footsteps his eyes perks at the cabin door. He doesn't like the coffee Seonji makes him. He doesn't like it when some random guy sits in front of him at lunch and while his eyes stray at you almost every second, you don't spare him a glance.

It's around 5 in the evening when you knock on his door.

Jeonghan can't describe the sensation his feeling right now, as if he has waiting for this moment lifelong.

You place a file on his table and say, "The Scheduler team wants to know about all the applications which are planned to retire from our system before the next monthly cycle. I have made a list for same, please have a look once and let me know in case of any concerns."

"Okay.", he says and you give him a nod.

"Don't you have anything to say?", he asks and you look at him confused, "No, I think this is the priority task at the moment, I'll let you know if anything else comes up, Jeonghan."

His own name feels foreign to his ears. By the time he's about to say something again, you are already out of his cabin.

This goes on for the whole week and Jeonghan feels he can't function anymore. He makes unnecessary trips within the office premise everytime walking by your desk just in hopes of getting called by you. You never do.

He waits for you at lunch but you're always gone. He never sees you smiling at him again. You never ask him out now. The coffee doesn't help to keep his stress away, the office doesn't feel homier anymore.

Isn't this all he wanted, Jeonghan asks himself. Aren't you the annoying co-worker who was always getting on his nerves?

And he's scared to listen to the answer his heart has to echo.

It's Monday, the first working day of a very new week and Jeonghan still looks at the entrance expectantly just to see you this time. He double takes to make sure he's not hallucinating and a smile tugs on his lips.

His face regains the seriousness as he approaches you and much to his dismay you don't notice him. He clears his throat to have your attention.

"Morning, Jeonghan.", you greet him curtly.

"Morning", he asks, eyes glancing over your hands to see if they have any takeaway coffee cup in them but they are empty, "Aren't you going in?"

"I'm waiting for someone.", comes your dry response.

Ain't that someone me?

"Okay....", he has no reason to linger anymore.

You are exhausted, sleep deprived blame the late night marathons of your favourite shows you've been pulling.

Reason, to keep your mind occupied with something which is not Jeonghan but the ache in your heart never dulls. Even though you have choosen peace with the fact that he'll never be yours, it's so new and difficult for you act indifferent towards him when you have been in love with him for two whole years.

When you're phones notifies you of a text, it has you rubbing your eyes just to make you're seeing it correct. You have got a text from Jeonghan reading-

Please make me coffee, it's a request.

When the Yoon Jeonghan who never texts you, never bothers to type back a response to your greetings or queries other anything related to work sends you a text, you're shocked.

Jeonghan feels like he can finally get the productive cells of body to work when he sees you entering holding a cup of coffee.

"You don't look good.", you say placing the cup on his table, "Are you okay?"

When he doesn't respond, you continue, "If you're not feeling well, please take the day off, I'll notify you of any urgent matters from our team prospective."

Jeonghan thinks it's the only chance he'd get to clear the misunderstandings so he speaks, "Me and Yoora are still good friends, that night at the restaurant she treated me because of a promotion she got at her company."

"Great to know. Good wishes on my behalf.", you are poised when you say, "From next time please refrain from sharing anything other from work related matters. I have no interest in your personal life and I think we are not close at all to be sharing updates on same."

Either he's mishearing or you're possessed, he's sure it's either. This ain't the you he wants. This ain't the you he needs.

Your tone emits grief when you speak further, "I deeply regret for the inconvenience I've caused you for the past years. I'm really sorry. But rest assured I won't be causing any more trouble, I'll out soon."

"What do you mean by that?", he's off his seat and in front of you instantly, "Did something happen?"

"Indeed.", You nod while smiling, "I accepted that you won't go out with me. I also accepted that you hate me. So there's no more pestering you from my side."

Jeonghan never thought his words would come back to him biting in his ass which he's not capable of taking.

"You can't do this...", he's not even sure of the words he's uttering, "Are you giving up on me?"

"Yes, I'm giving you what you wanted by giving up on you."

Jeonghan realises how much that he has gotten used to you. You're like the good parasite that clogs his mind whenever you're around and even if you're not. His mornings used to start with your messages, you used to magnetize yourself on him during the office hours and the last notification he got before sleeping was also from you.

So now he doesn't like the lack of attention from you at all and he'd do anything to have it back. He'd do anything to have you back.

He tries to be in your shoes for the next days. He waits for you at the entrance holding four cups of takeaway coffee cups because he doesn't you what like. Everyone who passes throws him a questioning gaze. Everyone except you. You walk pass by him, unfazed and unbothered.

"Y/N wait!", when you don't stop, he is following you, "I bought these for you and also if you could tell me what you like so that I can buy that."

You give him an incredulous look, "What are trying to do?"

"Just trying to get you morning coffee..."

You scoff and walk away.

When you go for lunch, Jeonghan pops up out of nowhere and not only he's tailing you, he's even occupying the seat beside you. He's suddenly texting you good mornings and good nights and throughout the day something or other but there's no progress.

Roles reversed, you don't even bat an eyelash at him now.

It makes him realise how ass of a person he has been to you and how angel of a human you were to tolerate all this and still love him with your all.

"What's wrong with Jeonghan nowadays?", Joshua asks genuinely curious. You all are gathered for a coffee break, as he stands opposite to where Jeonghan is stood from accross the room, he constantly notices him throwing glances, "He keeps looking at you Y/N."

"Jeonghan is that thick brain who realises what he had and lost when it's too late.", Jihoon snorts as he takes a sip casually, "What the hell, who put sugar in my coffee?"

Joshua is suddenly walking away and you laugh which makes Jihoon aware of the culprit.

Next he's chasing Joshua.

You are still smiling, gaze lingering on those two when you notice Jeonghan approaching you from the periphery of your vision. Not wanting to waste any energy on him you think of leaving the hall when someone bumps into you.

It's Seonji.

"Heard you stopped chasing Jeonghan?", she taunts, "Good that your brain's finally working."

"I want to you know if this concerns you anyway and why?", you ask and quickly turn to check if Jeonghan is in hearing vicinity. He is.

"I thought it's obvious? That we're close and might be together soon.", she says confidently, "You've noticed how behaves towards you is completely opposite of how his behaviour is towards me."

"Congratulations", you pat on her arm and incline closer to her as you whisper in her ear , "Let's see if Jeonghan is aware of this as well?"

Seonji's freezes for a moment when she realises that Jeonghan has been present there all along and have listened to the conversation that just happened.

"Congratulations to you too Jeonghan.", you wish him, "I can see, a match made of likes."

"There's nothing going on between us Y/N", he pleads as his hands itches to grab you so that you don't slip away before he finishes but out of professionalism and respect he doesn't, "She's just a junior from my university."

'You don't have to explain, I'm not interested.", you tell him before walking out.

Jeonghan is furious and Seonji thinks his glare is enough to make her evaporate without any trace.

"Jo Seonji", his voice is dangerously low and threatening, "I was being nice to you just because we're acquaintances from before but I realised how wrong it was."

"Han--"

"It's Jeonghan for you. If I hear you uttering such nonsense one more time, I'll report you to the committee for harassing me.", he's practically glowering, "And I want the database for all the transactions that occurred between us and our oldest clients with the analysis document by EOD."

"But that's too much of data Jeonghan, how would I be able to--"

"That's for you to sort out.", he says, "If I don't get the design model, I'll report it to your manager and she'll handle it from there."

Seonji is all sweaty and faltering when she hears, "I see you anywhere near Y/N without any official need, I'll make sure you're stepping down your position."

To those who thought Jeonghan has changed, they just witnessed the infamous scary Yoon Jeonghan again today.

They also realised that Jeonghan is still the same authoritative, strict and stoic faced coordinator for all.

He has changed, just for you.

"When are you gonna tell her?", Soonyoung asks wrapping his arm around Seokmin's shoulder as they gather on the rooftop during the lunch break.

Seokmin is torn.

"She's coping up with the pent ups because of Jeonghan and I don't wanna add to her stress.", he laments.

"I hate to admit that you're correct but I'm worried because I think if you don't shot your shoot now then it'll be gone.", Soonyoung's concern is evident in his tone.

"I can't just tell Y/N that I love her all of a sudden when she's in love with someone else for a long time.", it pains him to speak it out, "Because I know how painful unrequited love can be..."

Soonyoung sighs, as he frames his next question carefully, "When will be the right time, Seokmin?

There's never a right time, he thinks.

Jeonghan doesn't avail the elevator, he's climbing down the stairs hurriedly.

When he decided to go the rooftop to cool off after the Seonji episode he again unintendedly overhears the conversation between Soonyoung and Seokmin, the two men obviously staying oblivious about his presence.

His anger from before morphs into a mix of shock and scare. Shock because it didn't occur to him ever that Seokmin could be in love with you. Scared because, well he is yet to figure out the reason.

Walking through the hoistway door leads his chance encounter with Mr. Choi, your manager.

"Jeonghan", he calls him, "I have been meaning to meet you."

"Anything urgent Mr. Choi?"

Mr. Choi smiles, "It might be, for your concern. Y/N has requested for transfer, she wants to move out the team."

Jeonghan stiffens, all the strength in his body dwindles.

Carefully studying his face, his unfocused eyes and a lack of response urges Mr. Choi to speak further, "Since you're her immediate senior and she has been working under you for these years, your say would matter because I know no one would want to loose an efficient member like her. If the team has enough effort excluding her then I'd approve her request "

"Thanks for letting me know Mr. Choi. Please put it aside for now, I'll talk to her and get to back to you.", Jeonghan requests and the older man obliges.

You are currently working on reconciliation of a piece of code with all your concentration when there's a knock on your desk. You look up to find Jeonghan who's mutters a serious 'in my cabin now' when your gazes meet before walking into the said room.

You think of everything and anything you could have done to cause any trouble but nothing comes up, so you are immediately off your seat and entering the cabin.

Jeonghan has never felt this exhausted in his entire life, never because of you. When you used to clinge to him it had became a normality, though he never admited it was the only fun and good part of the office hours. You made him feel the belongingness, when everyone was scared of him, you were brave enough to step up and court him.

And now when he sees the indifference in you towards him, learns about Seokmin's feelings for you, he's beyond frustrated.

Another mistake, he channels it in a wrong way and at a wrong time.

"Jeonghan?"

Your call of his name breaks his reverie.

He looks you dead in yours eyes and asks, "You requested a tranfer?"

You knew your manager would be informing Jeonghan and the only obstacle in that request to get approved would be him, the reason you wanted the transfer in first place.

Before you could assert an answer Jeonghan scowls, "Are you really going to bring your personal life to your workspace? Suddenly one day you decide you'll stop liking me or whatever and then you're requesting to be assigned to a different project? Is that what you call professionalism Y/N?"

You are rendered speechless. You don't let those tears pooling in your eyes fall even though you are hurt.

"I thought two years is long enough to know someone", you inhale sharply, "But you don't know me at all. I wasted two years of my life for the guy who just now disregarded my love for him by calling it liking or whatever."

Jeonghan bites his tongue hard when he traces back on the words he had uttered.

"When I had asked you that if it would matter to you if I leave, you had casually slipped out a good riddance. So I'm doing us a favour and you should be happy but you're not.", you are hot in anger and rage, as your gaze tows upon the man infront of you, "You're not happy because no one's buying you coffee, no one's keeping you company, you don't have your files organised, you don't have anyone to take shit from you without retorting. Have you been always this selfish?"

It's his turn to be speechless. He has seemingly fueled every occurance for the past years to work against him currently.

"This is professionalism Yoon Jeonghan.", you tell him, "Me not stalling my growth anymore and letting in space for productivity and skills showcasing for myself is my professionalism. I stayed because of you but I won't do that anymore."

"I'm sorry, please let me clarify things", Jeonghan is eyeing you alarmingly as he walks towards you.

You hold out your arm and his feet instantly roots to the ground.

"Thanks for assuring me that I've made the right decision. You aren't worthy of my love, you never were. I'll stop loving you one day and I'll make sure that day comes soon."

A tear falls down your cheek and then they are streaming altogether. You fail to choke the sobs and Jeonghan says nothing, knowing that the only way he can help you is by keeping his silence.

And when you sprint out of the cabin, he wants nothing but to stop you and engulf you in his embrace. Although he's physically frozen but his mind deducts several conclusions.

He senses by hurting you, he hurts himself tenfold.

He laments on the fact that office is just all work and nothing to look forward to anymore because he misses you.

He likes his personal space invaded only if it's by you.

Maybe it's late but he's sure that his heart is constricting in pain within his chest because it's broken.

This time he's choking a sob, legs giving up as he falls to the ground when he finally accepts that he got his heartbroken even before he realised that he's in love.

That he's in love with you.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Midnight Masquerade - Hunter

Chapter Summary: The bottle lands on Hunter, and you get a classic monsterfuck.

Chapter Warnings: minors be gone; werewolf!Hunter x f!reader, kinks: predator/prey + knotting; desired fear, discussion of consent and rules, thrill of the chase, hiding, oral (f receiving), slightly graphic description of werewolf transformation, pain, unprotected PiV sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of cum, breeding kink if you squint and hold it sideways, mentions of blood, one instance of near dub-con (reader says “i can’t” and Hunter says otherwise), some aftercare

Word Count: 4.0k (i'm not even ashamed of this one)

A/N: please please heed the warnings on this one. while there is a discussion of consent at the beginning, once the werewolf appears, there is no more discussion. I will say right now: reader wants everything that happens. the fear reader experiences is akin to the desired fear one gets from going through haunted houses or watching scary movies. it costs nothing to keep on scrolling if you don't think you're the intended audience for this fic.

also yes i'm posting this on the full moon. and yes it's the Hunter's Moon. i planned this >:)

...Hunter. 

As the bottle rocks to a halt, you glance up to meet Hunter’s piercing gaze. He’s always been extra perceptive, always had the ability to make you feel like he’s seeing through you, but tonight, with magic coursing through him, his eyes pin you in place. A smirk tilts the corners of his mouth up. 

Your breath shudders out of your chest in anticipation as you let your eyes wander over his costume-turned-reality. Ragged lumberjack plaid stretches over his broad shoulders, torn in places to reveal the continuation of his skeleton tattoo. His teeth have sharpened into points, bared in a grin as the smirk on his face widens. Even his hair, usually so neatly held back by his bandana, is fluffier, longer, wilder.

The strobing, dancing lights reflect yellow eyeshine in his gaze, and you shiver. Arousal already begins to pool in your lower belly, molten heat stirring faintly. Hunter’s nostrils flare as he breathes in. The way his eyes flutter lets you know that he can smell you even amidst the press of sweaty bodies, spilled alcohol, and sickly sweet fog. A whimper falls from you, unheard by anyone except him. 

Hunter twirls a fresh shot of clear alcohol between his fingers. “Well, mesh’la?” 

“U-Um,” you say. The rest of the troopers at the table don’t even bother to hide their smug smirks. “Yeah. Let’s do this.” 

Downing the shot, Hunter slams the glass on the table, shaking his unruly curls out of his face. Then he stands, his broad shoulders and narrow waist drawing your gaze down. Already you catch the hint of a bulge outlined at the apex of his thighs. Your mouth waters, body coming alive with electric desire, and you resist the impulse to squeeze your legs together.

Following his lead, you stand as well. He tucks you against his side and leads you through the crowd. Pressed against him, your senses are flooded with the furnace-like heat he radiates, the unique scent of spice and dirt that fills your nose, the tingling sense of controlled danger where his claw-tipped fingers scratch ever so lightly against your waist. You swallow heavily. Kriff, this is going to be a fun night, and you’re grateful once again to whoever sent you the invite to this party. 

To your surprise, Hunter steers you towards the bar. With gentle pressure on your lower back, he guides you to one of the leather stools, but remains standing himself. He leans his forearm on the sticky bartop next to you, his other hand resting on the swell of your thigh. 

“Need some more liquid courage, Sarge?” you say with a teasing smile, your words sounding much more cool and collected than you actually feel. 

He barks a short laugh. “Hardly. No, I would rather keep this experience between us from start to finish. I...” He trails off, eyes studying your face before drifting down to your body, sitting stiff and wound up before him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “...want you to know what you’re getting into.”

“And what is it that I’m getting into?” you ask. You lean closer to him, so close you can feel his warm breath puffing over your face.

“An experience that requires a few ground rules.” 

You nod for him to continue.

“One: when I catch you, don’t run,” he says. 

The bottom of your stomach drops out with excitement. “‘When’?” 

The grin he gives you is wolfish—there’s no other word for it. His teeth bare in a smile masquerading as a snarl, eyeshine glinting once again. “That’s right.” 

“W-What’s rule two?” 

“If you change your mind, you fight as hard as you can. And hit the panic button on this comlink.” He slips the small metal device from his jeans pocket and holds it between clawed fingers. “I don’t know how much I’ll be able to stay in control if I transform.” 

Gripping the comlink with shaking fingers, you locate the panic button and, with a nod, tuck the device into your pocket. “Rule three?” 

Hunter tilts his head, seeming to look through you again. You fidget in your seat until you realize he must be listening to your body—you become intensely aware of the way that your heart hammers against your ribcage, pulse racing, and of the heat scorching through your veins only to pool deep in your core. When he refocuses on your face again, your cunt clenches around nothing at the hungry look in his eyes.

“Rule three,” he echoes, “don’t hold back.” 

He tilts your head up to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You moan in surprise, body melting with little resistance into his touch. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, not enough to draw blood, but enough that the quick sting sends a jolt of pleasure through you. Resting your palms on his chest, you delight in the way his muscles flex and how he seems to quiver. Like he’s holding himself back, despite his order for you to do the opposite.

You break away with a gasp. Hunter nudges your face to the side and, growling, presses his nose to the pulse point below your jaw. You gasp as he inhales your scent.

“Fuck, mesh’la,” he rasps, his words only meant for you, “you smell good enough to eat.” 

You bite your lip to keep your moan contained, still aware of the bartender shooting you a mildly amused look and of the dozens of people around you right now. As if he can sense you holding back—because he probably can—Hunter bites your neck. 

“Rule three,” he husks. 

“I’ll follow your rules if you follow them, too,” you gasp out. “Don’t you dare hold back, either.” 

He pulls back from you, hooded eyes meeting yours. Whatever he searches for in your gaze, he must find, because a slow, predatory grin spreads over his face. 

“Deal,” he says. “I’ll give you a head start. And then I’m going to fuck you, wherever I find you. Understood?” 

You can’t stop the whine that slips from your throat. “Y-Yes. Understood.” 

“Good.” He steadies you as you slide off the stool onto shaky legs. “Now run.” 

Your brain is several seconds behind, still stuck on the barely-contained growl in his voice and the way your skin shivers with goosebumps, but your body reacts immediately. Legs pumping, you take off through the crowd. Half-assed apologies tumble from you as you knock into people. You have no idea where you’re running to—you don’t even know how much of a head start he’s giving you. You just know you have to hide. Every instinct in you screams to run, to get to safety, to evade the burning gaze you can feel on your back even as you duck and weave between troopers.

You dash through an open doorway and skid to a halt, chest heaving with adrenaline. Before you lie several choices: a branching hallway filled with doors, an exit dead ahead, or a stairwell climbing up to a second-story exit. Glancing over your shoulder, you don’t see Hunter following yet. Part of you, a depraved, wholly needy part of you, wonders how much you should even try to hide—but an even more depraved part of you urges you to make it a challenge. How long will it take for him to find you if you try? 

Mind made up, you take the stairs two at a time and shove against the push-bar so the door swings open. But you don’t step through it. Instead, you let it shut on its own, then you turn and, emboldened by equal parts thrill and desire, you brace your hands on the metal bannister. Heaving yourself up over it, you try to keep as little contact with the railing as possible. 

Your stomach lurches as you drop the ten feet to the permacrete flooring. Thankfully, no joints sprain, and you don’t feel any pain in your shins from the impact. 

Unharmed and feeling pleased with yourself, you bolt through the ground-floor exit. 

Outside, the cool night air kisses your skin and wicks away the sweat that’s already gathered along your forehead. Head turning in either direction, you frantically search for someplace to hide. There’s the crystal forest, sure—but you don’t fancy getting poked with a thousand tiny shards like the ones you walked across when you arrived. You could sneak around the building and run back to the tiny spaceport. But that feels too...predictable. Why run when you can try to hide in plain sight?

To your right, a ladder leads up to the second-floor rooftop. Grabbing onto the cold rungs, you pull yourself up, hands and feet flying. You reach the top and, panting, survey your options. 

This rooftop is barren, save for the doorway you assume leads to the stairs you leapt off. But the next building over has several clusters of chairs and tables, tucked into the shadows of a decorative art piece that twists with elegant curves towards the cloud-studded sky. 

You go to take a step when an idea strikes you. You rip off your jacket, baring your arms to the chilled air, and drape it over the edge of the rooftop next to the ladder. Maybe the extra body heat, sweat, and scent clinging to the fabric will draw his attention and throw him off?

You slink to the closed doorway, then leap past it. You really have no idea how much of your scent you’re leaving behind, or what clues he’ll use to find you, but leaving as few footprints behind seems like a safe bet. Once you’re past the doorway, you break into a sprint again. The next-door rooftop isn’t too far, and after a relatively easy jump, you stumble toward the table tucked closest to the art piece. 

As quickly and quietly as you can, you crawl under the small, square table and arrange the chairs to block your body from view. It’s not perfect, by any means, but it’s the best you can do. 

And it’s not a moment too soon. The door on the other rooftop slams open. Hunter’s dark silhouette stalks out. Even from this distance, you can make out the way his head twitches back and forth as he tries to sniff out your trail. Clenching your jaw, you do your best to calm your labored breathing and urge your racing heart to slow. Anticipation trembles in your limbs.

Hunter jogs to the ladder and picks up your discarded jacket. He leans precariously over the edge of the roof, searching, and for a moment you think you’ve won. 

The wind shifts. 

Cool air sighing past you, you shiver as the sweat dries on your skin. A moment later, Hunter’s head snaps up, and he looks straight at you.

His teeth shine as he bares them in a dangerous smile.

“Oh kriff.”  

You gather your feet beneath you before you remember rule one: don’t run. All you can do is sit, frozen and shaking, beneath the would-be safety of the small table. Hunter prowls toward you. 

When he makes the jump between rooftops, you whimper, scrabbling backward until your shoulders bump against the swirling art piece, deeper into the shadows. You know it won’t help, but the darkness is comforting. Cold seeps into your bones even as your body alights once more with fresh arousal. Kark, have his shoulders always been so broad? 

He comes to a stop directly in front of the table you hide beneath. For a moment, you hold your breath, and the world around you seems to freeze. What is he waiting for? 

The table and chairs scatter with a crash as he yanks the furniture away from you. 

You yelp, surprised fear thrumming through your veins. Above you, standing tall and imposing, Hunter cocks his head at you. He tosses your jacket in your lap. 

“Nice trick,” he says. His voice grates against your skin, causing you to shiver. “Woulda worked if the wind hadn’t changed.” Then he shakes his head. “Well, it woulda worked for a moment. Could smell your cunt all the way over there.” 

He lowers until he crouches in front of you. In the faint starlight, his skull tattoo stands in stark relief, a terrifying visage of death. Your lips part as you pant with need. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how good you smell,” he murmurs. His dark gaze rakes over your cowering form, his tongue wetting his lips. “C’mere.” 

Clawed fingers wrapping around your ankles, he yanks you towards him. You yelp, body stretching flat, and he uses your momentary surprise to tear your pants from you. The fabric yields with a loud rrrrrrip, only to hang in tatters from your waist. 

“K-Kriff,” you swear. “Hunter—”

He shushes you gently. “Let me taste you.” 

He hooks one claw under the flimsy elastic band of your underwear and, with a sharp tug, the fabric snaps twice against your skin. When he peels back the ruined undergarment, you both groan at the faint, shimmery line of slick that pulls away with it. 

Like a man starved, Hunter presses your legs wide open and buries his face in your wet pussy. All concerns about your ruined clothes flee as soon as he licks through your folds. You cry out, pleasure rippling through you as his warm mouth envelopes your center. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you twist the fingers of one hand into his curls, holding his head against you. Your hips rock in pure reaction. Hunter growls, the noise vibrating against your clit. His eyes pierce yours, dark wells of lust and need. Your mouth falls open as you moan. The sounds of your pleasure bounce off the sculpture behind you.

“F-Fuck, Hunter!” you squeal as he sucks on your clit. 

He drags his nose through your folds, inhaling your sweet scent. “You’re soaked, mesh’la. Did you like running from me, huh? Liked running from the big bad wolf?” 

“Ye-e-e-es!” you keen, throwing your head back as he fucks you with his tongue. Deep in your belly, the molten lava of your desire begins to solidify into something more solid, something that promises bone-melting pleasure. 

Overhead, past the art installation, you watch with hazy eyes as the clouds drift lazily across the sky. Steadily, the night grows brighter. Though your upper body remains in shadow, your legs, and with them, Hunter, become bathed in silvery moonlight. 

Hunter’s grip on your thighs turns painful. His claws press a little too hard against your soft skin. Wincing, you snap your attention back to where Hunter’s mouth closes around your cunt. A moan punches out of your chest as you watch his eyes blink rapidly, shifting from lust-blown to golden and shining, alight with an intelligence that isn’t quite human. 

He shoves himself back from you, stumbling away, his entire body convulsing. “D-Don’t run,” is all he manages to grit out before—

Snap! 

You gasp, unable to do anything but watch with wide eyes as Hunter’s body violently contorts and transforms before you. His limbs elongate, knees bending unnaturally, ribs cracking as a new form tears itself out of his skin. Fear and desire chase each other through your body; you don’t know which one you feel most intensely.

With a deep, sonorous howl, the Hunter you know is replaced by a hulking wolven beast. Crouched on two legs, the werewolf pants heavily, staring down at massive, clawed hands. Hunter’s clothes hang off the beast in rags, shredded by the way his body swelled and grew during the transformation. But what strikes you the most is his fur. Dark gray fur, shot through with white streaks, falls in a shaggy coat all across his body. With a jolt you realize the white fur matches exactly the skeleton tattoo Hunter bears—in his wolf form, the tattoo is still humanoid, reflecting the person now trapped within.

“H-Hunter?” you ask, voice shaky and tentative. 

The wolf snaps his attention to you. Those bright, intelligent golden eyes lock onto yours as a snarl, animalistic and deep, tears from him, his teeth bared. His snout, rough and ridged, twitches as he scents you. Your legs remain open, slick folds still bared and glistening in the moonlight.

Dropping onto all fours, the werewolf sniffs the air again. Then, quicker than you can fully process, the wolf pounces. His claws dig into your sides as he drags you closer once more, a startled scream tearing from your throat. The sound only seems to encourage him. Growling deep in his chest, Hunter—the werewolf—he lowers his head and licks a stripe up your pussy. 

You gasp at the odd sensation. His tongue is long and rough against your sensitive skin, but you find it strangely pleasurable. A shudder runs up your body as the wolf laps at your dripping core; the heat simmering in your lower belly blazes back to life, a raging inferno of need blinding you to the fear of what this wolf really could do to you if he wanted. But you don’t dare move within his grasp.

You fight to keep your hips still as you watch the werewolf lick your cunt. Gasping for breath, you catch sight of something—something thick and red, hanging between his thighs. 

A groan claws out of you. “F-Fuck. Hunter, please.” 

Whether the werewolf understands you or not, you’re unsure, but he withdraws his mouth, the fur around his lips soaked with your juices. You heave a shuddering gasp as he hooks one large hand under your ass, angling your body. His other hand wraps around his large, throbbing cock. Watching in fascination, you moan as the slim, pointed tip drags through your soaked folds. 

“Please,” you whimper. “Please.” 

With another low growl, Hunter thrusts into you, burying his thick length to the hilt. You shout, pleasure and pain biting through you in equal measures, as he splits you open. Walls fluttering around the intrusion, you go boneless, forcing yourself to relax. 

Hunter sets a brutal, punishing pace. His cock reaches parts of you no one ever has before, stretching you in ways that you’re sure will ruin you for anyone else. High, heady moans tumble from you with every sharp thrust of his hips, your nipples pebbled in the cold night air. One of your hands squeezes the soft flesh of your breasts, the other snaking down between your bodies to circle around your clit. Pleasure spikes within you, orgasm drawing closer as you play with yourself. 

“G-Gonna—” You let out a choked moan. “Gonna cum.” 

Maybe the wolf does understand you, because he bares his teeth in a terrifying display, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Spit drools onto your heated skin. Gathering some of it on your fingers, you return to your clit to rub frantic circles there. 

Hunter adjusts the angle of your hips by a fraction, and you cum with a scream as he drives into that one devastating spot inside you. Back arching off the permacrete ground, your vision whites out as the wolf fucks you through your orgasm. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure crests over you, until you’re sobbing from overstimulation. 

Pushing with weak arms on the wolf’s chest, you somehow manage to get him to pull out of you, to give you a moment to catch your breath and recover. The wolf looms over you, panting and drooling. His cock twitches when you reach down to stroke the strange appendage.

“Good boy,” you mutter, leaning up to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. On a whim, you reach up to scratch behind one of his ears. The wolf’s eyes slide shut, a pleased hum vibrating in his chest.

Then his instincts seem to kick back in. With a huff, Hunter flips you, his nails scratching across the soft skin of your tummy. Chest pressed to the ground, ass in the air, you whine brokenly as he pushes his length into your tight heat once again. You rock your hips, meeting him thrust for thrust, mind melting into incoherency as he fucks against that shattered piece of heaven in your cunt. A second orgasm begins to build in your lower belly, and you desperately chase it, circling your clit once again. 

Hunter is getting close as well. His incessant growls are steadily becoming higher, more akin to whines than snarls. His claws dig into your flesh hard enough to break skin; tiny rivulets of blood slide down your front. You don’t care, just so long as he makes you cum again. Tears form in the corners of your eyes as your body winds tighter and tighter, orgasm threatening to pull you under at any moment. In your slick cunt, Hunter’s cock pulses, and seems to bulge. 

Then, without warning, he buries himself in you as deep as he can go. You cry out, body shuddering with pleasure as his cock—swelling and knotting—presses against your walls. You cum on his knot like that, squealing in delight, nerves obliterated and frayed as he cums with a howl. Knot pulsing, he paints your insides with ropes of hot cum that just don’t seem to stop. He fills you to the brim, and then some—you can feel his hot spend dripping down your thighs where it leaks out past his cock.

Slowly, Hunter begins to transform back into himself. His fingernails shrink, pulling the tips from your body. His fur dissolves into ash, and now against your back, his sweaty skin sticks to yours where he gasps for air. But his cock remains knotted in your cunt, both of you swollen and sensitive. 

You regain the ability to talk before he does. “H-Hunter. Hey. You okay?” 

He hums, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. 

“I need a verbal answer,” you say between pants. 

“I’m—fuck, I’m good.” He pushes himself off you with shaky arms. But he remains kneeling behind you, locked in your tight walls. “Did I hurt you?” 

“Not in any way that I didn’t like,” you say. “Honestly kind of forgot about the panic button. Not that I wanted to use it,” you hurry to add. “That was... I don’t even have the words. ‘Amazing’ doesn’t cut it.” 

He chuckles, and the vibrations make you both moan. Your pussy clenches weakly around him. With warm, human fingers, Hunter squeezes the flesh of your ass and rocks you gently back and forth. 

“Oh stars,” you breathe. “I can’t, Hunter, it’s too much—”

“You can,” he murmurs. His hands help you move, each gentle thrust loosening the knot still swollen inside you. “You can take it, mesh’la.” 

Keening, your hands scrabble for purchase. Fingers wrapping around his wrists where he holds you, you crane your neck to look back at him over your shoulder. His face is sweaty, hair plastered to his skin, and his lips are flushed and swollen. His eyes are half-lidded and still dark with lust. In a word, he looks debauched. When his gaze meets yours, he smirks.

“That’s it,” he encourages, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips. “Just like that.” 

You cum again, preening under his praise despite the way your aching body screams for rest. This orgasm is slow, bone-deep and debilitating in its power. But the extra gush of slick is enough to push Hunter out of you. You both groan at the sensation of separating. 

“Look at that,” Hunter murmurs. When you glance back again, his eyes are transfixed on your cunt. His cum, all of it, wells up and spills out of your spent pussy. Seemingly without realizing it, he gathers some of the sticky substance and pushes it back into your cunt with his thumb. 

You hiss. He withdraws his hands, then tugs you up onto your knees and cradles you to his chest. “You did so well, mesh’la.” 

“You, too, Hunter,” you mumble against his skin. For a long while, the pair of you remain there, wrapped in a comforting embrace, until you chuckle. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks. 

“Our clothes are ruined,” you say. “How are we supposed to go anywhere?” 

He laughs with you, despite not having an answer. That’s alright, you think, it’s an excuse to get him into one of those rooms downstairs....

Ragu: @the-hexfiles @thorsterstrudle @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @dreamie411 @bobaprint @imarvelatthestars @originalcollectionartistry @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl @jedi-hawkins if your name has a strikethrough, I can't tag you so check your settings! (if you'd like to be added or removed, click here!)

[accidentalshifter]

Ahhhhh! An adult shifter I’m so happy! I’m so used to being one of the few adults in the shifting community it always makes me happy to see another person! Would you mind if I ask you in private messages about your experiences?

Hello, hello!! I'm really happy that you found me in the sea of shifters out there in Tumblr. You're totally welcome, any time, to ramble on into my DMs and talk about experiences with shifting. I love brainstorming & sharing ideas/stories with fellow dreamers. So, the door is open to you, new friend. 💜 If you'd like to read some of my latest shifts in large detail, you should read my pinned post. It's got my latest adventures plus a summary of the DR I'm currently exploring. But I'm also cool with 1 on 1 discussion~

⚠️ Below is a rant about ageism within the Shifting Community. Please be advised that this is just my opinion...

You know, I really hold off on posting about opinions/shifting theories because this blog is solidly focused on documenting scripts & my experiences first...but. You brought up a good point. There aren't many (public) adult shifters out there on Shiftblr, Shiftok, or the many Subreddits out there that exist. And I feel like that has a lot to do with the heavy & predominant ageism (age-based shaming) within the Shifting Community as a whole. I see a lot of young shifters out there posting:

Some person who just turned 14: Woah, you're 24??? What are YOU doing in the Shifting Community???!!! 😲 🤣 😅

As if shifting is something allowed only for young people because when you "get old," you aren't allowed to dream anymore. You're supposed to "grow out of it." But let me ask anyone reading this right now: if you really, truly believed in shifting, would you "grow out of it" when you turned 26? 28? 29? How about when you're 35 like me??? Would you stop shifting to "be an adult and live in the real world"? Abandon your s/o's?? Abandon your dreams??

The aggressive vein of ageism infecting the shifting community feels like a belief issue. Like shifting is for the young because they're allowed to be "whimsical" and engage in this dreamworld on the premise that shifting isn't real and eventually, they'll "grow out of it" and get a real job or some crap like that. Fuck that. Fuck THAT. That's the same kind of abusive crap my grandfather used to yell at me when he burned my artwork and said I needed to "grow up". Stop shaming the "old" shifters!

Many of us didn't get to have a childhood. Or a stable living situation. Or a family. Or love...

Adults need their dreams, too. In fact, with how rough and cruel this reality is, I say we all owe it to ourselves to shift. To dream. To allow ourselves the JOY and LOVE we need. It's only because of my DRs that I continue to fight for a better future for myself. As an ancient adult shifter, having my DR (and s/o's) there to support me while going through the banal horrors of this reality and medical problems, shifting helps to keep me sane. It's not a thing I'm ever going to "grow up and out of" because after you shift, you realize the world is bigger and more beautiful than you could ever imagine. And why would I ever give that up?? Be kind to us adults who shift...

Because one day, you'll be old too.

[nohoney]

imagine: you just had a nasty breakup and you decide to take a break from serious dating and have a hot girl summer for yourself. just sex zero commitments fuck as many people as you want. the problem arises when the first guy you end up fucking, bakugou, is so good so you decide to keep him on as a fuck buddy while you continue looking for future conquests.

little do you know that bakugou fell head over heels for you after that first night together and now he’s doing everything within his power to get you to fall in love with him, that is everything short of actually telling you his feelings because he’s so emotionally constipated and damn near bites your head off when you playfully joke that he might have a crush on you.

oh my god oh my god (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄)

bakugou tries to keep his cool so bad, doesn’t ask questions or doesn’t want to think about how you’re still out there seeing other people aside from him. he feels a little ridiculous that it seems to be a one sided thing—he’s got your contact pinned to the top of his text inbox, he keeps toiletries of your preference in his home, and hell he gave you his passwords for two of the streaming services he pays for!

it’s all shit that he thinks screams i fucking like you!

and yet he can’t muster up the actual words to say it out loud. because you don’t want to be tied down, you want to experience being single after your shit break up, and you don’t trust any person right now to handle your heart after what you’ve been through.

bakugou respects all that, but he really really wants you and you’re the only one he wants to be seeing. he’s so damn stupid though because you joked one time about him having some feels for you and he was too quick to snap at you.

“this is only for fun, that’s it.” he reacts instinctively even though he knew he should have said otherwise in that moment. and there was no awkward silence or weird look with how fast he reacted to your joke. only a laugh and an agreeing nod as you dipped a strawberry into a little bowl of nutella he had ready for you as a post sex snack.

“yeah, i’m sooo grateful that you’re my number one right now. can’t believe how lucky i was to get you on the first try!”

number one on your roster, it’s a title that bakugou is happy to have and also hates it at the same time. there’s others after him, numbers two to four or maybe you’ve got eight people on your list—fuck!!!

it drives him crazy!

he doesn’t want to drive you off with these stupid feelings, and he’s especially smug when you text him about some date that had pissed you off beforehand and that you’re heading over to his place. he hopes that the sex he gives you is so good that it’s enough for you to reconsider just making him your only fuck buddy. he quite literally prays on the downfall of your dating life so that he’s the only one around.

so for now he settles with letting you sleep in his bed when he fucks you too hard, hoping that the breakfast he makes you in the morning screams the message i can be your boyfriend.

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Heya so this is Damian's pov in the chapter 16 of my fic Hostage situations and other romantic activities based on @iguessthisisanewobsession's prompt! I had it written out and though it doesn't fit in with the main storyline, I figured I'd post it here and link it in case anyone was curious. Feel free to ignore this if you haven't read the fic <3

Hope you guys enjoy:) (Spoilers ahead)

Damian’s head hurt. Zsasz had managed to get in a good hit before Damian had managed to knock him out, or at least what he thought had been a knock-out. He’d been sloppy and now the teen’s head was throbbing. At least, he had seen no injuries on Danny though the other boy had been very pale and looked unwell. 

That was another thing. Danny.

Gotham wasn’t a safe place for civilians, and metas had it even worse. That was true everywhere but in Gotham even more so; discrimination, increased risk of violence, even human experimentation. 

It wasn’t surprising that Danny would want to keep his abilities a secret. But something about the blast, how despite clearly having been instinct, the shot had been so very precise that Damian who had been pinned under Zsasz hadn’t felt more than a cold blast of wind made it seem as if there was more to it than that.

And right now, as he was perched up in the tree waiting for law enforcement, there was nothing to do but to speculate.

No, that was untrue, he thought as he took his phone out of his pocket. He could do more than that. 

He could research. And so he did. 

And found nothing.

Oh sure, there was a blurry picture here, an oblique mention there but no proof of existence beyond a social security number, a high school diploma, and one measly article.

No birth certificate, no social media, no medical file, not even a driver’s license.

It wasn’t that Danny Fenton was a ghost. It was more like he was a half-finished person.

Damian breathed out slowly. 

It wasn’t Danny’s powers that made him suspicious. It was everything else.

An hour later, Damian slid down into the now dark forest and started walking.

Damian looked up to see Danny coming down carefully. Damian steeled his expression into a neutral one, unwilling to let his thoughts play on his face.

“Daniel,” Damian started formally. “You went back to the school.”

That was a point in the boy’s favour; at least, he had not ran.

“Yeah,” Danny answered, too casually. “thanks again for saving my butt back there.”

Damian nodded, but abstained from saying anything further in favour of studying Danny’s expression. He didn’t seem any different but Damian knew appearances could be deceiving.

“So-“ Danny started but Damian wasn’t interested in small talk.

“I could not find a picture of you before your fourteenth birthday,” Damian stated clearly.

“Uh,” Danny stumbled. “Ok?”

“Nor could I find a birth certificate in your name.” Damian continued expecting a twitch, a frown, something.

“Yeah,” Danny answered calmly, waving. “Mom and Dad are terrible at paperwork.”

Alright. If that was how Danny would play it. Flimsy excuses could only go so far. 

“No social media, no bank account. Not even a tax return in twenty years.”

“IRS have given up long before I was born,” Danny answered airily. “And Amity’s not the safest place for technology.”

Damian studied the boy in front of him. He looked relaxed and mostly at ease. A bit confused, a bit tired if anything. And Damian wanted to believe it. 

Yet, both his instinct and his experience were telling him not to, and so Damian forged on.

“Why did you come to Gotham?” Damian asked.

“What?” Danny answered, once again frowning in confusion. “Uh, I’m here for school? I think I told you that.”

This was getting insulting.

“Do not lie to me,” Damian said, feeling something brewing.

“I’m not,” Daniel persisted in a stupid simplistic excuse. “I’m really here for school.”

Damian clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes peeled on the deceptive face in front of him. Damian had come for the truth and he was going to get it. 

“You truly had me fooled,” Damian stated as he slowly started to circle the other teen. “I did not suspect you for a moment.”

“What are you even talking about?” Danny said, but Damian wasn’t listening to more lies.

“Why did you approach me?” Damian asked asking from Danny’s side. Because that was the most logical explanation, no matter what Damian wanted to believe. It wouldn’t be the first time mother or another one of his enemies had sent someone to kill him. He had to consider the possibility. Danny turned to keep himself facing Damian.

“I didn’t,” Danny stressed, his voice almost snarling. Good. More likely to let something slip.

“Maybe so, but you did not turn down the opportunity to do so either.” Damian allowed, because it truly would’ve been a convoluted plan to manipulate Damian into choosing Danny.

“What,” Danny’s voice biting. “Like you left me any choice?”

Damian stopped short at that. He knew he could be forceful and overbearing but he would never force anyone to do anything like that. He was nothing like her.

“Damian,” Danny’s voice rose again, kinder, softer. “Im not sure what this is, and we can talk about it, I-”.

No. This wouldn’t work. Damian wouldn’t let himself be pacified like a child. “You have deceived me,” Damian reminded himself and Danny

“I haven’t,” Danny protested but Damian wasn't listening. 

“You are not who you say you are.” That was the truth. And no matter what he said, Daniel knew it too.

“Yes, I am,” Danny refuted strongly and Damian had had enough. There was one thing Daniel could no longer lie about.

 “Are you?” Damian asked clearly. “Tell me Danny, are you human?”

Danny flinched and Damian’s heart sank even as it confirmed what Damian already knew.

“That’s what I thought,” said Damian, more calmly than he felt.

“What does that mean?” Danny asked, still trying to pretend but Damian wouldn’t let him.

“It means, I am ashamed I let you get so close.”

It means I know, Damian thought. It mean there’s no use pretending. It means, please do not try. 

There was a moment of silence where Damian held his breath. For Danny to finally give it up and admit it.

Daniel took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. And Damian held himself straighter. Daniel opened his mouth but closed it again.

And then finally-

“Please leave,” Danny’s voice came and what was left of Damian’s hope froze over.

So this was it then. 

“Fine,” Damain said dispassionately. “I’ll send you the severance pay before the end of the week.”

“I don’t want it,” Daniel bit out and Damian could feel something ugly within him rear its head, and Damian let it take the place of the coldness.

“Waynes believe in tying up loose ends,” Damian said silkily. “It does not do to for past indiscretions crop up at importunate times.”

“Ok no. I’m done with this.” Danny stalked off, and it welled up again, poisonous and mean.

“I would be happy to give a recommendation to any new employer of yours,” Damian shouted. 

He knew he was supposed to be better than this, but he couldn’t help it.

“Screw you!” Danny yelled back and Damian snarled, stopping himself from punching at a tree or something equally stupid and emotional.

Whatever. He turned away and started walking.

It wasn’t like it had been a real relationship. It wasn’t like it had meant anything. Damian started running.

It had done what it was supposed to do, and really, Damian had gotten out of it exactly what he wanted. 

The thought did nothing to appease the empty feeling in his chest as he made his way back home.

[thewriterg]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧’ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 chp.3

pairing(s); simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x fem!reader, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick x fem!reader, john ‘bravo six’ price, werewolf!soap, harp crow hybrid!gaz, dragon hybrid!price, wraith!hybrid (?) ghost, phoenix!hybrid (?) reader

summary; You’re shot and not healing, what could be worse? Everything

word count; 3.8k | chasin’ chaos masterlist

warning(s); monster au, dark twisted themes, normal cod violence, firearms, knives, combat, pinning (?), poly themes, death, r call sign is flatline, blood consumption, eventual smut, kissin, and language

A/n: First post of 2024 what the hell writers!? 🙈

The walk to the excile point was a surprisingly smooth one, even if it felt like you were walking through hells trenches. The grim reaper himself strides beside you even though your footsteps aren’t matching his. They’re a bit… delayed, the thought that makes you want to trip. Fortunately, it’s nothing too drastic to actually make you stumble. God you hated Americans, so trigger happy with not a lick of skill behind those damn fingers. How they contributed to win some of the largest wars ever recorded was beyond you. Continuing to let your unreliable footing carry you on your marry way, You and Ghost both lead your sergeants, while they in response lead your privates to your designated location.

Soap doesn’t even blink at the weight he had lugged on his back even though it was sure to bite him in the ass when he dialed back to his normal size. The small force of everyone is on guard until the very last moment where your all loading helis. Even then the Scott noted how the Wraith and Phoenix’s shoulders did not seem to drop, even though you were being confined into a temporary security until you could return to base. You, Gaz, Ghost, Price and Himself —along with two lower rank hybrids— load into one of the two aircraft’s waiting for you while the other privates have no choice but to load on the second.

You sit next to Gaz and Soap soon takes a seat next to you gleefully accepting the opportunity, a bit confused when Price seemingly turned his eyebrow up at the arrangement. His head slightly tilted when he noticed you don’t meet the captains gaze but the bucket hat wearing man doesn’t comment on it and neither does he. The ride from that point is smooth until about an hour in your pilot experiences turbulence, and suddenly Your head is spinning, your gums are itching as if you were a toddler teething. Everything is heightened, you can hear the blades of the heilo even through the density of you headphones, your eyes are sensitive to the faintest bit of the moonlight peaking through the windshield, and your body spiked in temperature, burning hot like hell. Your attempt to take a breath was useless when the potent scent of blood hits your nostrils. So sweet yet it felt like the peach fuzz in your nostrils burned and you groaned abruptly.

“You alright Lt? You dinnae look too we-”

“Which one of you is bleeding” You interrupt the Mohawk’ed sergeant with a hiss, placing a hand over your nose and curling over your knees. Heads snap to you like a mouse in a trap and Price is up out of his seat before anyone push the weight on their knees to stand. The brunette kneels in front of you, you’re not looking at him but he can see your eyes are dilated theirs faint veins trailing under your eyes that look like they want to spur from beneath your skin. You irises are layered with a foggy film and you look so far away it could’ve broken the captains heart, but he had to be your superior before he could be your comforter and he was sure you could handle it.

“Hey, Hey! What’s goin’ on? Look at me! What’s happe-?” It happened to quick to process, in the bat of an eye the Scott would say. One moment you’re looking distant and far away in your seat and the other you have one of your privates Tank against the cold steel wall of the heilo with that certain look in your eyes. You see it a few times in his line of work.

Bloodlust,

Fangs sprout from the roots of your gums, deep dark red veins swarm under your eyes, your pupils have taken over the whites of your eyes, and you are not yourself to say the least. In quick action Gaz squawks —even though it’s more like a screech— it put you down to your knees while you hands clutch your head mouth open in a small ‘o’ with a silent scream ghosting from your lips. It throws you off for a minute, but it’s not a minute long enough. You adjust quickly and with the same speed you pinned down the raven haired private you do the same to the rich skinned Sargent, a hand wrapped around his throat effectively stopping is antagonizing screeching. You bare your fangs at him with a hiss and he nods with a groan on his lips.

“I get it Lt, n-no more screeching… you g-got it”

Before you could do anymore damage your soon the one groaning when that scent takes over your senses again. When you turn to the source in your somewhat unconscious mind your realize it wasn’t your original subject, the scent was much more… potent

“This what you want? Come ‘ere, take what you want” Ghost’s gruff voice rings over your ears as he stands tall, combat knife in his right hand his opposite palm sliced open blood dripping like water from the tap. You didn’t quite lunge at the blonde but you weren’t gentle either. It was different… you were rigid as your fangs pierced his jugular taking exactly what you wanted with a hand wrapped around the front shoulder covering of his bullet proof vest. Soon however, you’re groaning into the surface of his skin ready to pull away when your frame was restrained against the wraiths keeping you in place. Your senses are be ridden into overdrive, grunting in protest against the lieutenant struggling inevitably. Shadows slither up your body effectively keeping you still and you’re weaker than ever —it concerns the Brit to no end— effectively out like a light, dead weight pressing against the front of Ghost’s torso. that he takes willingly. The chopper is finally quiet, seconds feel like minutes and minutes feel like hours. The captain and —conscious— lieutenant are the first to move, the skull masked soldier sits with your unconscious body in his lap. He swings your legs over his knees and holds your shoulders and in his arm supporting the weight.

Price examines your flesh, nothing alarming to the eye until he gets to the ending of your collarbone and beginning of your shoulder blade. It was barely noticeable to the eye with your all black gear a hole is punctured through your shirt —the fabric saturated with blood— just where your bulletproof vest stops.

“Gaz. Bullet wound, collarbone to shoulder area, ammo unknown, no exit.” The brunette calls out to the sergeant and he notes it immediately, going up to the pilots cavity to grab first aid coming back a practical second later. He hands his captain; gauze, scissors, forceps, tape, and medical wrap. Not nearly enough to give you a beginning of a processable recovery but, it’s something to keep you stable and sterilized. Price takes the shears cutting a big enough square in the fabric of your shirt for him to see with the shitty helo lighting. With enough gauze to clear out a cotton field the bleeding is finally stopped. What stands out the most however is your veins, different shades of black and gray spreading from the wounds up your neck and down your arm. Price curses gruffly, Ghost grunts in disdain, while Gaz catches a gasp in his throat and holds it there. Without another word and with a steady hand the dragon goes in with the tweezers fishing about for the stray bullet wearily when you twitch, ignoring how his lieutenant tightens his hold around you. Soon enough without hitting a nerve he pulls out a bullet its black resembling the color spreading abnormally through your veins.

“Never seen anything like it Cap” The brown eyed sergeant murmurs analyzing the bullet while the older brunette begins to patch you up good enough to where you aren’t bleeding out.

“Somethin’ illegal i'm pretty sure, Americans and Russians in wits with one another? Can’t be arsed to think about it” Their captain is cold, no humor in his voice to spare. Soap perks up at it having been waved away throughout the whole process of it all, ‘safety percussion’ the harpy tried to mutter to him softly even though it came off as passive and off putting the Scott got the message. With a knee bouncing in uncertainty the Scott tries his best to see through the gap of two fit frames that are practically shoulder to shoulder, begging to see anything —straining his eyes in the process— but in the end he wished he didn’t.

“Is she still breathing!? Check ‘er pulse how many beats per minute?”

“Mactavi-” The lieutenant begins with a hiss

“Those types of bullets mark hybrids for death, big ones, powerful ones, like us… like her. Wolves, dragons, sirens, cockatrice, harpies, hellhounds, cyclops, every big shot in the books. I don’t know how the ‘ell her heart hasn’t stopped”

“125 beats per minute Cap, her heart isn’t slowing it’s… going into overdrive” Gaz’s brows furrow at the words slipping from his lips as if it wasn’t his own recognition, as if he were learning it for the first time. Price curses moving towards the captain's cavity taking a hold of the mic that connected to his coms that ranged to base, speaking hardened than the brunette ever heard

“This is Bravo six, I want nurses on scene upon my arrival landing time ASAP. I have a member down… if I don’t see medical you won’t see a day of rest, private.” His voice fades out into the front of the helo with thundering steps that demand attention. Gaz kept a pointer and middle finger on your pulse point still counting the beasts as minutes pass, Soap felt short of helpfully useless, and when Ghost finally speaks up his voice is directed and sharp. Looking forward the two lower ranked hybrids one is checking over the other and they both look at him with attentive eyes

“What the hell happened in that building”

💌💌💌💌

“-nd she saved me” Your head is ringing and you can’t find it in you to peel your eyes open. The feeling of being heavily sedated yet pumped full of adrenaline at the same time, it felt so close to suffocation your body forces Itself into fight or flight. You're strapped to an average hospital bed with steel restraints, the cold metal on your hot skin not soothing you whatsoever. When your eyes peel open you eyes your vision is blurry you only make out blobbed figures until blinking a few times. A bright light is being shined in your face and you bare fangs at the person behind it.

“Stitch! Are you trying to lose a limb!? Back off!” The doctor barks at the dirty blonde nurse who flinches double, scrambling to get away from your bedside and out of her superiors way. Kyle is holding your hand at your right not caring if you’d scold him for being so worried all the time, Simon sits in a corner where he can see everything the medical team dies to you while also seeing who comes in and out of the door, John hovers reluctant with all medical staff —with that my team my concern mindset—, while Johnny stands beside Tank and Red near the door as they give the nurses their rundowns. You go to open your mouth only to be met with your vocal cords screaming at you in protest. The inability to speak makes you you groan that sounds more like a whine of a kicked puppy than anything

“I apologize, lieutenant. We believe it’s a side effect of the gunpowder in your bloodstream and we’re flushing you out as quickly as possibl-”

“Are there any updates to the status reports I requested?” You would have usually made fun of the dragons unusual impatience if you were in the comfort of his office; however you're in this cold, stale room that smells of too much bleach.

“Yes captain, the bullet is in fact meant to kill stronger hybrids. Once the hybrids are pierced with it there’s really no return for them, the gunpowder runs through the stream they become lucid quickly and all docile tendencies are forgotten. However, we suspect that that particular outburst from lieutenant y/l/n will be her only one because we’ve nailed down where it came from. We played around with time frames that lined up the best. You were shot and just before the ammo could burst with its gunpowder and spread the toxins through your stream you had fed blood to your lowerank to heal him.” The doctor cleared her throat before giving the room a much wanted update of your condition

“That doesn’t explain why she dropped ‘im like an old toy when Ghost’s blood was introduced.” Price spoke up too many gaps were missing for the brunette's taste as he ran a few fingertips through his short salt and pepper beard.

“I didn’t think such a… uncomfortable topic should be discussed as of right now” At the sound of reasoning Simon moves to stand messy bandaging over the he cuts having waved away the nurses who’d tried to attend to him —a little papercut shouldn’t not taken their attention off of you—. The room seemed significantly smaller when the lieutenant stood

“If opposing threats tread with those bullets we need to know everything about them. Nothing in this line of work is comfortable” His voice screamed demanding; demanding of attention, demanding of response, demanding of results. The middle aged woman visibly swallowed before speaking with a voice filled with discontent.

“With previous blood work of you three well, you all line back to lieutenant Y/l/n, or more precisely she lines back to you” Soaps ears perk up and so did his tail, fur rigid against the skin of it. He wants the brightest apple but he wasn’t the dullest pen either. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together but it sounded so off putting. You fed from them? He’d been around vampires before and you did show qualities of one, the fangs, the pitch black eyes when you fed, it was evidence and it was there… but you didn’t smell like one and seemed to have not even the slightest sensitivity to the sun. The mystery of it all killed him

If you weren’t a hybrid what the hell were you?

“Us, but it doesn’t make sense. She had me there could’ve bit into me” Gaz finishes for the medical agent brows furrowed once again the skin between them creased. The doctor nods while prying on a pair of blue latex gloves

“Doctors from both sides of base have been working on it for now, we believe it’s because you weren’t bleeding. It wasn’t potent enough for her to take interest in it. Our second guess? She was attracted to what or who she got done with last.” The room was silent, one heavy fog was replaced with another. No one speaks of what’s been revealed however you’re onto the next topic before you can dwell on it. The head doctor approaches you slowly, as if you were a skittish cat in the wild.

“I’m just gonna draw a little blood from you to run a few tests, make sure we didn’t miss anything.” You blink at her with sharp eyes and tense muscles when you see the size of the needle, not too much length enough to prick a vein the girth however made your hand twitch in Gaz’s palm. It even made the Scott want to tuck his tail with a wince.

“Hey. You’re alright, you’re fine, you hear me? You’re alright” Ghost had stepped up beside Price to your temporary bed, the heart monitor spikes and before you know it the needle is in your shoulder —meer meters away from the bullet wound that was mending itself at an inhuman speed—. You hiss jerking it away but the doctor is a good one and follows your quick motions successfully. Collecting enough blood in the clear syringe to send off to the labs. She quickly bandages your wound back confident, but not ignorant enough to linger around an upset hybrid.

“Test results should be back as soon as possible, in the meantime while lieutenant Y/l/n flushes the toxins out of her body the side effects of the bullet are still possible until further notice.”

“Which are?” The harpy huffs temper running unusually short, palm gripping your closed fist tighter —not enough to hurt but enough to notice a difference— a lick of tired at the woman’s shirt answers.

“Anything from spikes of heart rate, cold sweats, immense… hunger and most of all intense hallucinations. We think by the time her voice has returned most of the threat should be absent. All we can do is let it run its course, I’m sorry.” The brunette discards of her gloves and leaves the room idle. As much as you try to stay away your eyes droop low and are soon closed tight

💌💌💌💌

Soap sits next to your bedside, warm cup of coffee in hand, his eyes straining to look at the small tv mounted on the wall even though he wasn’t actively watching it. He had finally got Ghost to stretch his legs and go take a shower after three days of nothing but cold sweats and spikes of heart rate from you he decided his —other— lieutenant's heart needed a break. After much pestering, convincing, promising to stick by your side, and a little threat that summed up he wouldn’t think you would like to hear about him rotting next to your bedside the wraith finally took a leave after 72 hours.

“Kyle,” The Scott thought he was just imagining things at first or that it came from the Tv but as he stares at you for a while he realizes it was simply not true. He stared at your face for a while until you’re mumbling again and it pangs his chest a little. He didn't know any of you that well —didn’t know anyone except Price and Gaz really— but he still cared nonetheless it was in his nature.

“Simon, dont.” You’re starting to sweat again and your heart monitor is starting to beep. The werewolf moves to stand ringing for a nurse when it seems to get worse, your body is jerking and you keep mumbling in distress.

💌💌💌💌

You're walking up the stairs of some abandoned building, it's eerily chilly and there's really no light except for the dim overhead light on each floor you pass by that continues to flicker. The stairs and walls are concrete to match the walls and floors, you have your rifle pressed against you sweeping each floor swiftly with precision it could almost feel... normal. You reach the fifth floor and there's a stagger in your step. All of your privates lay dead in pools of their own blood like stuck pigs, hybrids and normals alike lie dead. After a spare moment you continue on to finish your mission as you were ordered to, as you were required to. The next floors to come are still filled with dead privates none lie peacefully, all gone in agony, too soon, you could read the tombstones now.

Your boots march almost rhythmically up three more floors and as they go by you are more and more desensitized to the bodies that sprawled the floor. You make it to the final story of the building and there's a door staring back at you, almost challenging you to open it and you take the duel with not the slightest bit of shake in your hand. The door opened with a loud whine at the unusual action and your riffle drops from your arms at the sight behind it.

You see your captain first, bucket hat that you always made fun of inches away from his body. His right horn that sits atop of his head looks damaged beyond repair and his neck is sliced open from ear to ear. Your breath is trapped in your throat and your body doesn't allow you to move. Your mentor, the reason you are where you are, your sacred captain, lies sliced like a sacrificial lamb. Your eyes trail away from the brunette's cold body and you wish they didn't, there lies your sergeant. One of the two full broad wings adorned with brown feathers are gone, singed away. Your sweet brown eyed boy stares at you voidly. There's no crease of his eyes to let you know he's smiling, no brightness to alert you of life, and the look of adoration he always gave you in particular that was taken for granted forever absent. You cradle his bruised face in your palm and this time you can't stop your tears from running downstream on your face.

"Kyle," Your voice cracks at the slightest utter of his name. You don't think you can say anything else or it'll mean it's true, it'll mean your captain and your sergeant are dead. You reluctantly stand a silent promise to come back to them both and make your way further in the room. You can see the back of a balaclava staring back at you and it helps you breathe better. You approach him with his callsign spilling from your lips. He looked to be hacking intel, just like your mission called for. You approach him putting a palm on his shoulder just for his head to fall limp and you could almost laugh. This had to be some cruel, sick, twisted, joke that should end any second now. It doesn't.

"Si get up right now, get the fuck up! GET UP SIMON!" Your body is trembling as you roughly shake his body, there's no response that comes from it hazel eyes rolled deep into the back of his head and you don't know which hurts worse. Your stomach churns when you gently lift the mask off his face to see toxins spreading through his veins up his neck. The best soldier, the strongest man you’ve met, your one and only, was dead.

💌💌💌💌

Put blood, sweat, and tears into this chapter because you guys deserve it

if you voted on my poll from the last chapter then you could see I used all prompts in this chapter except for one which we’ll deep dive into another day🤗

some have asked for a taglist so comment to be added

I hope you guys are having a wonderful year so far I love you and thank you for everything! -G

[flmer]

OH NO! IT'S THE BABY APOCALYPSE!

character/s. riddle, leona, azul, & vil.

cw. baby poop.

includes. gn!reader + fluff!

note. next will be idia, malleus, kalim, and jamil hehe also ooc? idk but I got my taglist open! if you wanna be tagged please put a comment/reply on my pinned post and which character you only wanna be tagged for!

riddle.

I imagine riddle being scared of parenthood but also confused because he didn't exactly have the best experiences as a child so he's clueless on how to treat the child and that's what scares him.

he's afraid of accidentally hurting the baby that's why he always looks hesitant whenever you ask him to hold the baby but all his nervousness wipes away when he sees eyes similar to his own- staring with sparkling eyes at him and he just melts.

you wake up sometimes in the middle of the night to the sound of humming coming from riddle and you always see him cradling the baby close to his chest as he gently rocks them back to sleep with a gentle relaxed look on his eyes and a soft smile on his face as he looks at the baby with warmth swirling on his grey orbs.

whenever riddle has some free time he always makes sure that you relax and he'll be the one taking care of the baby while you rest, after all he can't have his rose to get burnt out <3

“they're... ” he couldn't continue his words because of the tears that quickly came out from his eyes as he held the baby close to his chest as he smiled down at them “hello there my little rose petal...”

leona.

leona is the type of dad who sleeps everywhere and he's always seen cuddling his child on his chest while both of them. he always has his arms wrapped around his child protectively because to him it feels like he might lose them. (he does this to you too and you're glad you aren't the only one suffering his sweet gesture of choking you to death/exaggerating)

even if he isn't the king he still has his prince duties to do and he's often not physically present due to this but he always makes sure to make it up to both you and your child. he makes sure to call your child and you whenever he's travelling somewhere and when he finally arrives back home he always have tons of gifts to give to your child and of course for you too.

the moments that leona adores the most is whenever you and his child are safe in his arms with joyful smiles on both of your faces, it always makes him smile a little bit.

arguments are bound to happen but leona always makes sure to avoid making your child see the both of you arguing but whenever he knows he's in a bad mood he always takes a nap to avoid accidentally letting his anger out on you. there's also the playful argument that your child sees but it's mostly leona teasing you while you fume at him and he finds that hilarious. he also makes your child join in on the teasing and now you have two menaces in your life)

“awwe look at your momma, little beast. they're pouting again” - your menace husband leona

“momma why're you so mad? hehe we're only teasing ya!” -your menace of a child

azul.

azul loves to spoil his child i don't care what you say. this man will spoil his child just like how his mom did to him and it's honestly entertaining to watch because his child would be looking at something and the next thing you know your child has that exact thing on their chubby little hands.

despite azul's bad childhood and his experience with body shaming he actually doesn't mind it if his child is getting chubby, in fact he loves it! he loves his child's squishy chubby cheeks and their little soft tummy <3

despite azul letting his child eat to their own stomach's content he does know the limits and how unhealthy food or eating too much could affect his child that's why he always keeps an eye out for his child whenever Floyd and jade are hanging around. (jade have tried to feed azul's child mushrooms, i just know it.)

FAMILY OUTINGS!! this man is a businessman and that means he needs to hop from place to place because of his business and his only motivation to keep on working is you and your child. that's why he makes sure the both of you always come with him whenever he travels around! (one time his secretary convinced him to leave you and your child back at home because ‘both you and the child might need a break from the constant travelling’ so he left you both and when it strikes midnight he cried because he misses the baby wailing sounds that can always be heard at night and the feeling of you wrapped around his arms with the baby in the middle of you two.)

“Is it okay if you and our little pearl come to me? I've been missing the two of you...”

vil.

despite vil caring a lot about his beauty sleep he will always make sure to wake up to get a new bottle of milk for the baby or if they need changing he can always change their diapers! although the smell really disgusts him.. vil wouldn't mind sacrificing a few minutes of his beauty sleep if he gets to see his little pretty dardar's peaceful sleeping face that always manages to make him feel as if he's glowing. (yes pretty dardar is what he calls his child. dardar stands for darling)

vil wouldn't force his child to pursue acting or make his child into a model because vil doesn't want his child to grow up feeling trapped and forced. he wants his child to grow up happily without worrying about how society thinks of them.

vil's quality time with his child would consist of doing skincare and other self-care routines because he doesn't want his child to experience getting bullied because of their looks! he isn't saying that his child is ugly but no matter how beautiful you look on the inside people will always point out your flaws on the outside. his child most likely will grow up with the softest and clearest skin because of him

vil would take his child to work and he always keeps an eye out for his child because he knows how some workers here react to a baby and it's not really a positive reaction. he also posts both you and your child on his magicam whenever the three of you go out or just cuddle and watch movies that starr's vil and people often gets jealous of how domestic the three of you look.

Vil looks at the newborn baby on his arms with a blank look on his face and you started to grow nervous because of his reaction. does he not like how the baby looks? would he divorce you? would he- your thoughts went to an abrupt stop when vil started sobbing as he gently caressed the baby's face while cooing sweet things to his child “oh my, aren't you the prettiest little darling I've ever laid my eyes on? I wouldn't mind losing the most beautiful title to you, my little dardar.”

[sagewritings]

Silent Rebel - Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

pairing: young coriolanus snow x female reader

synopsis: despite being raised in the capitol among individuals driven by a thirst for power and violence, your desire to reform the system grew stronger with time. upon graduating, you swiftly initiated your plans for change. however, executing these plans becomes a challenge when you accidentally catch the vigilant gaze of coriolanus snow.

word count: 1.5k

warnings/tags: mentions of death and violence

a/n: hello everyone! it’s been a while since i’ve posted here on my blog because of college and as an apology, i’m posting 2 fics for yall! i just recently watched the ballad of songbirds and snakes and i haven’t stopped thinking about tom blyth since then. also i’m thinking of rewriting this fic into something longer and more detailed so lmk what you think :>

the other fanfic is about finnick odair so if you’d like to check that out (as well as my other works) you can check the pinned post in my blog :)

i hope you’ll like this one! happy reading!

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

The Capitol's grandeur stretched like an unending expanse under the perpetual sun, casting shadows that danced across its facade. Coriolanus Snow, now a phoenix risen from the ashes of exile, bore the scars of Doctor Gaul's mysterious experiments that had purged him, or so it seemed, of the rebellion's cunning influence. Yet, as he trained meticulously for the position of game maker, a new hunger for power gnawed at the edges of his consciousness.

You, on the other hand, have come from one of the wealthiest Capitol families. Freshly graduated from the prestigious university, your eyes were pried open to the injustices perpetrated by the annual Hunger Games. To you, the ritual appeared not only senseless but also a gruesome spectacle, a parade of innocent children's demise for the Capitol's entertainment.

Motivated by an unquenchable desire for change, you secured employment under Coriolanus Snow, tasked with a covert and life-threatening mission: gather evidence of the heinous atrocities committed during the Games and expose them to the oblivious citizens of the Capitol and the oppressed districts.

Months passed, and you meticulously documented the games' ruthlessness. Coriolanus, a master tactician, did not have trouble sensing what you were trying to do.

One day, as you compiled the thick notes in your small office, the door groaned open. There stood Coriolanus Snow, an unreadable expression painted across his face.

"What are you doing?" he inquired, his voice rigid and steady.

You looked up, beads of sweat forming on your forehead. "Just routine work, sir. Managing the games."

Coriolanus's eyes narrowed, a predatory gleam piercing through them. "I know what you're up to, Y/n. Trying to expose the Games, reveal the injustices. I won't allow it."

Panic set in, but you skillfully maintained a calmed image. "I don't know what you're talking about, sir."

Leaning in, his voice now a menacing whisper, Coriolanus intoned, "I suggest you reconsider your actions. If you persist, your family will pay the price. I have ways of ensuring they suffer."

Fear seized your heart. The safety of your family became an immediate concern, and the thought of their potential harm under Coriolanus's influence was unbearable. Reluctantly, you nodded, silently acknowledging the looming threat.

Months passed and you continued your subversive work under the hawk-like gaze of Coriolanus Snow. The ledger of injustices stacked up, the ruthlessness of the games meticulously detailed in your notes. Yet, the weight of your silence became increasingly drowning.

As the Reaping ceremony for the 11th Hunger Games approached, a tidal wave of anger surged within you. The oblivious citizens of the Capitol reveled in the spectacle while innocent lives were put on the line. A few more cheers and praises, and you could no longer contain the seething rage within.

In the climax of the ceremony, as the tributes' names echoed through the theater, you erupted and aimed your anger at the nearest individuals. "This is senseless! You're all cheering for the deaths of children! Have you no humanity left?"

The Capitol citizens stared, a cocktail of shock and disdain painted on their faces. Coriolanus Snow, observing from a calculated distance, felt a spark of intrigue. The fire in your eyes ignited something within him—a curiosity that cut through the cold layers encasing his soul.

Post-ceremony, he summoned you to his office. The air was thick with tension as you entered, unsure of the impending reckoning.

"What was that outburst?" he demanded, his gaze penetrating your very core.

You took a deep breath, the ember of anger still smoldering beneath the surface. "I can't stand by and watch the Capitol revel in the deaths of innocent children. It's inhumane, and I won't be part of it any longer."

Coriolanus regarded you with a calculating gaze, his mind working overtime to decipher the emotions playing across your face. In that moment, the power dynamic between you shifted. You, once submissive under the weight of fear, now stood before him with a resolve that both intrigued and unsettled him.

Days stretched into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Coriolanus found himself studying you closely. The once compliant heiress had become a thorn in his side, yet there was an inexplicable allure in the fire that blazed within your eyes. The darkness within him, even for a fleeting moment, softened as he observed the sincerity in your actions.

One evening, as the Capitol vibrated with anticipation for the 12th Hunger Games, Coriolanus sought you out. The ensuing conversation was unlike any that had transpired before.

"You're different," he remarked, his tone almost conversational.

You met his gaze, a cocktail of defiance and exhaustion mirrored in your eyes. "Maybe I am. Maybe the Capitol needs to change."

Coriolanus chuckled, the sound laced with a bitter edge. "Change? In the Capitol? That's wishful thinking, Y/n.”

Yet, as the night wore on, an unexpected camaraderie developed between you and Coriolanus. The formidable walls he had built around himself seemed to crumble, if only for a fleeting moment. The bitterness that had defined him gave way to a vulnerability he hadn't allowed himself to embrace in years.

In the days leading up to the Hunger Games, you found yourself trapped in a delicate dance with Coriolanus Snow. The man who had once blackmailed you now grappled with his own internal demons, and you became an unwitting witness to a facet of him that few had glimpsed.

As the new set of tributes entered the arena, you couldn't shake the weight that settled in your heart. The Capitol's insatiable appetite for violence, the games transformed into a grotesque tradition—each element bore down upon you. The arena, symbolic of despair, stood as a stark reminder of the darkness entrenched within the very fabric of the Capitol.

In a rare moment of solitude, Coriolanus found you gazing out of a window. His presence, once a source of terror, now felt oddly reassuring.

"You're not the only one questioning the system," he confessed, his voice a low murmur.

You turned to him, surprise evident across your features. "What do you mean?"

Coriolanus sighed, weariness etched into the lines of his face. "The Hunger Games, the Capitol's insatiable hunger for power—it's all a game. A game that consumes everyone, even those who believe they're in control."

The vulnerability in his words resonated with you, a shared understanding of the stifling reality enveloping the Capitol.

As the Games unfolded, the brutality played out on screens across the Capitol. The once-deafening cheers now echoed hollowly. The tributes' struggles, their pain, became a haunting reminder of the cost of the Capitol's insatiable appetite for entertainment.

In a quiet moment between you and Coriolanus, as the tributes faced insurmountable challenges, he spoke, his voice softer than before. "Maybe you're right. Maybe there's no purpose in this. But what can we do? The Capitol thrives on its own cruelty."

The admission caught you off guard. Coriolanus Snow, the orchestrator of the Games, seemed to accept a truth he had long suppressed.

Days turned into nights, and the 12th Hunger Games concluded with the predictable exhibition of victory and defeat. The Capitol moved forward, its citizens eagerly anticipating the next spectacle. However, within the very heart of the Capitol, a subtle shift had transpired.

Coriolanus Snow, once engulfed by an uncontrolled hunger for power, found himself ensnared in a complex dance with you. The darkness that had defined him wavered, if only momentarily, in the face of a reality he could no longer avoid. As the Capitol plunged into preparations for the next set of Hunger Games, you and Coriolanus navigated a precarious balance.

In a clandestine moment, away from prying eyes, Coriolanus spoke, his voice bearing a trace of sincerity. "You've made me question things, Y/n. The Games, the Capitol—I can't escape the truth anymore."

You regarded him with a mix of astonishment and skepticism. "And what does that mean for you?"

Coriolanus sighed, a weight lifting from his shoulders. "I don't know. But I can't keep playing this game. There has to be a way to change things, even if it's just a little."

The admission lingered in the air, a fragile acknowledgment of a truth long concealed. The Capitol, with its gilded exterior, appeared less invincible in that fleeting moment.

As the days unfolded, Coriolanus Snow embarked on a path unforeseen, diverging from the relentless pursuit of power. The Hunger Games, once a symbol of his ascension, now stood as a haunting reminder of the darkness that permeated the Capitol.

The journey had merely commenced, and the road ahead remained shrouded in uncertainty. Within the intricate tapestry of power and rebellion, a spark of humanity flickered. The man who had once manipulated you had begun to question the very system he had upheld.

As you and Coriolanus confronted an uncertain future, the foundations of the Capitol quivered. The dance between power and resistance persisted, and within the very heart of the Capitol, a nuanced revolution commenced subtly.

The Capitol, with its towering structures and glittering facade, stood as both a testament to opulence and a stark reminder of the shadows lurking beneath.

[alcoholfreenayeon]

Hi can I request a yuqi from gidle x male reader smut where they’ve been dating for a while and after a concert reader takes her out to eat then when they get back home they have fluffy sex then take a shower together then when he wakes up the next morning she’s cooking breakfast in his shirt

A/N: This is it, my first male!reader fic. I hope you like it, I know it took me a while but it was mostly due to my exams😭.

Light My Fire

CW: m!reader x Yuqi, slight smut, some fluff, nsfw

You watched in awe as your girlfriend put on a performance of a lifetime, singing and dancing like there’s no tomorrow. That’s how she always performed but you always felt just as awestruck as the first time you watched her perform. You whooped and applauded with the crowd and a few songs later, the show was done. It was quite short by a Kpop concert standard but you preferred it this way. So you could spend some time after the show with her as well since she wouldn’t be too tired.

You had a nice dinner reservation and wanted to treat her. Usually, Yuqi liked to treat you and besides its not exactly easy to make a dinner date a big surprise or special when your partner is a superstar but you try your best and being the sweet girl she is, she always seems over the moon even over the smallest of things you do for her.

Nevertheless, you meet her backstage where she is already ready to go and greets you with a hug.

“Did you like the-”, she begins but you’ve memorized her questions through previous experiences.

“Yes it was amazing. Yes you looked really pretty and hot. No, I didn’t look at any other girls. And yes I have something planned for us.”, you interrupt her with small smilie, answering all the questions she was going to ask before she even had a chance to ask them.

She looked at you blankly for a few seconds before pouting but ended up almost immediately laughing and giving you a gentle push, “so annoying”.

You chuckled, “Come on let’s go, we don’t wanna be late.”

It didn’t take too long to reach the restaurant, about 20 minutes, you both were discussing the concert and seeing some of the clips people had posted online. Dinner wasn’t too fancy but you both liked it regardless and soon after you reached home.

The two of you on the couch, Yuqi resting her head on your shoulder, she traced imaginary lines on your chest and you both cuddled for a while in silence, just enjoying each other’s company. Then out of nowhere, she kissed you once. And then again. Pulling back after a few seconds and staring at you longingly. You felt your heartbeat quicken and leaned in slowly and she did the same.

As you both leaned in and began to kiss, it quickly turned into a full on make out session and pretty soon Yuqi was tugging on your clothes trying to take them off. You did the same and pretty soon, well not exactly soon. It took a few minutes for you both to be exposed because neither of you were willing to stop kissing to undress. Only after excessive tugging at each others clothes did you two eventually give in for a few moments.

Soon after, you found yourself on your back with Yuqi on top of you, her hands on your chest, breathing heavily, riding you slowly. You placed your hands at her hips and watched as she gracefully began to ride you.

This continued for a few minutes before Yuqi removed your hands from her hips and instead pinned them to either side of your head and leaned in kissing you hungrily while also grinding sensually.

The two of you just couldn’t get enough of each other, staring at each other with love, lust, longing and kissing every few moments. A few minutes later, you both felt your releases approaching rapidly.

“Yuqi….”, you say sighing, letting her know your close.

She said nothing and grabbing your face with both hands and kissing you passionately while you wrapped your hands around her back as she began to grind faster. You couldn’t help yourself either, your hips buckling as you began to thrust upwards as well, trying to be in rhythm with her movements.

Soon after, you felt the pressure build up and eventually got your release, sighing hard into a kiss while Yuqi squeezed your face tightly, shuddering slightly while she got hers.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments while your highs slowly faded. Taking a deep breath, Yuqi shifted and moved to the side, resting her head on your chest, an arm wrapped around you.

You take a deep breath and sigh, trying to relax when suddenly Yuqi grabs your hand and tries drag you up.

“Give me a minute”, you try to protest feeling comfortable and sleepy.

“Ah hah!”, she frowns, “No, you’ll sleep. Come with me!”.

“I just did”, you say cheekily, your eyes closed.

“Fine, do as you like, I’m going to shower so your loss”, she replies back triumphantly, knowing you’ll give in.

You kiss your teeth and groan loudly while stretching knowing you can’t miss this chance and get up in one swift move, following Yuqi with your hands on her shoulders,leaning your head at the back of hers.

As you both enter the shower, the next dilemma starts, you like cold showers but didn’t want one right now because of how sleepy you were feeling while Yuqi likes hot showers but wanted to take a cold one because she wanted you to stay awake so you both could cuddle.

Both of you understood each other’s intentions almost immediately and reached for the shower valve together.

“It’s okay, I got it Yuqi”, you say unconvincingly with a smile.

“What are you talking about?”, Yuqi says mischievously.

Neither of you budges, and you both just smile at each other until you decide to take a risk. You let go of the valve and without warning begin to tickle Yuqi who couldn’t react quick enough and moved back helplessly reflexively.

“Hey! Stop! This isn’t fair!”, she squealed, laughing uncontrollably.

It was too late though, you were now in front of her, blocking her access to the valve, smiling victoriously at her while she pouted.

You set the temperature as lukewarm hoping it’s a good enough compromise and you both begin showering, washing each other. Once your done showering, you dry yourself off and go to bed while Yuqi dries herself off and does her self care routine before she comes to bed. You try to wait for her but end up dozing off before she comes.

You wake up hours later to find Yuqi is still missing. You turn towards her side of the bed and find it a bit warm so she only woke up recently you assume. You stretch and get up, brushing and going to the kitchen.

You find her in one of your shirts, obviously it was too big for her and she really looked unbelievably cute in it. She was making some eggs as you walked in behind her, hugging her and kissing her cheek for a moment before pulling back.

She leaned in happily before continuing cooking and finishing the eggs while you began to toast the bread. In a couple of minutes you both were at the table having breakfast in silence, giving each other knowing looks and smiling happily, your hand on hers.

[my-naughty-writings-and-musings]

Transformers ROTB

NSFW Reader x Mirage

Just saw ROTB and Mirage changed my brain chemistry so I had to get this down ASAP while writing many other pieces of smut I hope to post soon. Please let me know what you think <3

Mirage got you back for all your teasing the second he pulled into the garage and transformed, his engine roaring in pent up frustration as he settled you on one arm and slammed the door behind him with the other. Having expected and looked forward to such rough handling, you happily allowed yourself to be hefted upwards to face your partner, his hands cupping you possesively as his optics met your eyes. The fiery need in their depths sent an echo of desire through your entire body before he pulled you in for a desperate kiss.

Moaning into your mouth, the speedster slipped a hand behind your head to hold you close as he fumbled across the garage to his berth, which was so difficult in his current state he ended up bumping his shins multiple times along the way. Each audible thump came with a hissed curse that made you snicker, but he persevered until he finally met the edge of the padded metal slab and more or less collapsed onto it. You were still in such a giggly mood you couldn't help chuckling when he muttered a euphoric "finally" as if arriving at an oasis in a desert. 

Settling you down beneath him, Mirage got the two of you on the same page with a sudden rush of kisses down your jawline, his dentae brushing the sensitive skin before he buried his helm in the crook of your neck. You arched at the touch and moaned softly for more, which he provided in the form of an unexpected bite, his tiny canines using just enough force to leave a subtle mark claiming ownership. Crying out and grabbing hold of him for support, you shivered as his warm glossa dulled the mild sting with slow swirls. Experience told you he was savoring the taste just as much as he was providing comfort. 

"Take your pants off, I've got plans." he said suddenly, lips just beside your ear. Complying with a soft sound of wanting, you wiggled out of your bottoms in a manner most would have called desperate rather than sexy. Big blue optics watched your every move with hungry intensity, and when he beheld you naked from the waist down his engine rumbled forcefully enough to rattle the berth. Throwing away your clothes without a care, you found him sliding a hand up your shirt without warning, and obediently leaned into the touch as he purred out further instructions. "Might as well toss everything you don't want me accidentally ripping to pieces."

"You'd owe me." you replied teasingly, sticking out your tongue as you rolled your top over your head. Mirage huffed with enough force to rustle the messy spread of blankets.

"You're kidding, right?!" he replied with indignant disbelief, looking all the more frustrated when you smiled innocently whilst unlatching your bra. Pretending not to be briefly subdued by the sight of your tits, the speedster continued his mock rant, recalling how the last twenty or so minutes had been nothing but you riling him up while he was helpless in his altmode. "The way you were fiddling with my gear shift in traffic? You're lucky I didn't pop my panel on that off-ramp!"

"Just a little extra motivation." you teased sweetly, tossing your last bit of clothing to the floor below.

Your incorrigible boldness briefly left him speechless. Shaking his helm with a chuckle, Mirage moved quickly to pin you to the berth below, gentle but commandingly firm as he made it clear he planned on getting even. Having expected as much, you had to bite your lip to restrain a smile, so eager for a heated pounding you could already feel yourself getting wet. Your own wanting turned to desperation when he loomed over you and cast your naked body completely in his shadow. Voice a full octave lower than usual, the mech loudly opened his modesty plating just before he rumbled out a warning. "Oh, I'm motivated alright." 

Lips met again in a passionate kiss, but this time he went straight for what he wanted, hands taking hold of either side of your body to slide downwards and savor every detail along the way. Whimpering when your breasts were teased with only a quick circling of his thumbs, you eagerly parted your legs to grant him access, looking down just as he grabbed hold of his erect spike to mass shift it to the appropriate size. Practice had allowed you to stretch sufficiently enough that he only needed to reduce his girth by a fraction of what had initially been required, and as soon as he felt himself reach the proper measurement he brought his hips to yours.

A small sound passed his lips as his tip met the heat of your entrance, and you watched his brows arch at the pleasure while his jaw went slack, helm rolling back as he finally got to push inside. Biting your lip at the stretch, you welcomed him with a moan, wrapping your legs around his hips to assure him you were ready for more. The unique array of ridges and nodes along his spike delighted you every inch of the way. Sheathing himself in one long, smooth stroke, the speedster took a moment to savor the feeling he'd been so desperate for, as overwhelmed by your tight heat as he'd been the first time. 

Instinct and experience got his hips moving, and you welcomed the first withdrawal and thrust with an appropriately excited cry, the feeling of his massive frame over your tiny human body making it all the better. Mirage growled as he finally got a hold of himself, hands splaying on the berth as he started to rock his hips and go to town just like he'd fantasized the entire way home. Tits bouncing with every thrust, you went from moaning to crying out when he activated his vibrator mods, the tiny nodes lighting up without warning to buzz against all of your sweet spots. Your wide eyes caught a smug smirk of revenge on his lips before he lost himself to a moan of his own.

Pulling him close and grinding your hips against him, you grabbed hold of his chest and held on for dear life as Mirage began to ride you for real, his vents releasing hot puffs of steam with every pound of his hips as his frame grew heated from the exertion. Making the berth rattle near to the point of threatening collapse, the speedster lost control completely in his haze of desire. Hunching over you to be as close as possible, he scooped an arm behind your back to heft you as the beginning of an orgasm coiled in your lower body, hammering right into your sweet spot as his engine roared out in exhilaration. You rewarded his creativity with a cry of his name just the way he liked it.

"Mirage!" you moaned showily, able to feel him approaching his own overload as yours built exponentially quickly. Hearing his name made the mech shudder and briefly lose control of his powers, the scene around you wobbling as his cloaking abilities surged and warped everything you could see until he wrestled back his willpower. 

"Aw shit, babe, I'm gonna..." he trailed off to bare his dentae and moan, but you knew exactly what he meant. The length of his spike throbbed inside of you, and just like that you were pushed over the edge, a rush of warmth and ecstasy crashing over your heated body as you clamped around him in a series of powerful throbs. Feeling you clench as if milking him did the poor mech in without delay. Optics briefly snapping open in surprise, he clamped them shut as his own overload hit with an accompanying surge of his EM field, blue sparks of electricity jumping over his armor as he came in an explosive burst of overdue release. The combination of his hot ropes gushing into you and your walls clamping down on his spike reduced you both to moaning wrecks unable to do much more than cling to the other.

When you felt the surge pass and the excess transfluid dribble onto the berth, you collapsed into a sweaty heap on the padding below, ribs rapidly rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. Mirage had enough experience to roll to the side once the afterglow reduced him to a purring kitten of a bot, his lips curled into a very pleased smile as he settled down beside you and vented the heat from his exercise. The mess wouldn't have occurred to you even if you'd been able to feel your legs.

"Wooo boy..." the mech sighed after what couldn't have been more than a minute or two. You opened your eyes just as he pulled you up the berth to face him, sliding over the bundle of bedding until your gaze met your lover's and found him looking very pleased with himself. Chuckling at the boundless ego, you scootched closer to snuggle him and fully enjoy yourself, more than a little smug at how easily this had all gone to plan. It was almost unfair how little you had to try to make him pound your brain out.

"Better?" you cooed, cupping his chin the way he liked. Mirage leaned into the touch and laid so you faced one another, far more relaxed now that his charge had been burned off. 

"Ain't nothing better than you, gorgeous." he confirmed, letting you nuzzle into his neck as he held you close and playfully stroked your hair. The softness mixed with his sass compelled you to relax as well, your naked body pressing into his to savor the touch of his warm mesh in the bliss of the afterglow. Dating a mech like Mirage was never easy, but it was certainly always worth it.

[sillydestiny]

Hello haruhi! I'm new to your blog but I absolutely love your posts! My fav is the cale henituse fic "losing you" 😭

Seeing as your requests are open I was thinking if I could request a pinning! cale x f!reader. I don't know how much info/detail I should put into this but I had something around the idea of him just realizing he's in love with the reader with her being his closest confidant and always taking care of him and making sure he's alright! Maybe something cute and fluffy? A dash of angst if you feel like it?

I hope you have a wonderful day/evening/night!🤗

Blossoms of the Heart

Cale Henituse x Reader

2.2k words / fluff

The plaza terror incident had left chaos in its wake, but amidst the panic, Cale found an unexpected ally. As the boomers threatened to wreak havoc, a mysterious figure, concealed in a hood, used magic to shield the three boomers from causing further damage. Raon, the magical being accompanying Cale, was quick to sense this assistance.

"Human, human, there's also someone casting another magic! It's a magic barrier!" Raon's words echoed in Cale's mind, stirring his curiosity and concern.

With the information from Raon, Cale's mind raced

Who?

As the boomers were finally safe, Cale found himself coughing up blood, a sight that alarmed those around him. Unfazed, he assured them he was fine, typical of his nonchalant attitude towards his own well-being. Raon continued to communicate with Cale, revealing the figure who had aided them—a person who wore a hood that concealed their identity.

Cale's gaze swept the crowd as Raon's words lingered in his mind. Then, he spotted a figure, shrouded in a hood. A powerful gust of wind suddenly blew, causing the hood to fall, revealing a person of surprising strength and beauty. Cale, who rarely cared about appearances, couldn't help but notice the figure's attractiveness – pale skin, silky hair – a beauty that stood out even in the midst of chaos.

Raon, too, sensed the identity of the helper. "Human, that's him! That's the one who helped us earlier," Raon exclaimed in Cale's mind.

However, the mysterious figure swiftly retreated, as if aware of Cale's gaze. The fleeting encounter left Cale intrigued, and he turned his attention back to Taylor and the others who were still in a state of panic.

In a silent exchange with Choi Han, Cale conveyed his intention for Choi Han to investigate the mysterious helper. As Choi Han left to follow the figure, Cale couldn't shake the feeling that the person knew something crucial about the situation

-------

Later, after Choi Han successfully caught up with you, Cale finally had the opportunity to speak with you. The conversation unfolded, revealing that you, too, were in a similar situation—a transmigrator who fell asleep while reading a novel and woke up in this bewildering world.

Your words struck a chord with Cale as you explained, "Would you believe me if I said that I know because I read it in a novel before waking up here?" The revelation resonated deeply with Cale, who had experienced a similar phenomenon himself.

The air between Cale and the reader crackled with the weight of their shared experiences. Cale, contemplating the newfound revelation of another transmigrator, felt a strange connection forming between them. The realization that Kim Rok Soo, the man inhabiting Cale's body in another world, might be experiencing the same disorienting journey struck Cale with an uncanny sense of solidarity.

Amidst the conversation, Cale couldn't help but be intrigued by the dreams each harbored. When he asked the reader about their aspirations, the answer echoed with a simple desire for a normal and peaceful life. Cale, usually a proponent of a slacker lifestyle, found himself drawn to the similarities in their dreams.

As the reader calmly expressed their wish for a tranquil existence, Cale's mind raced with thoughts. He saw an opportunity, a mutually beneficial arrangement that could aid them both in navigating the challenges of this new world. Cale proposed a deal, the terms of which would be set by him, and the reader, composed and sipping tea, listened intently.

"What kind of deal?" the reader inquired, setting down their tea with a focused gaze.

Cale, his face stoic, laid out the terms. "You will be by my side in any situation that includes the plot."

The reader, adjusting their hair, responded with a calm acceptance, but with a condition of their own. "The terms of the deal can be set by you. I want one thing."

Cale, intrigued, asked, "What do you want in exchange?"

The reader's answer was simple yet profound. "Money."

Cale agreed to the deal without hesitation, recognizing the reader's strength in using magic. "You will accompany me, and in return, you'll receive financial support."

Little did he know that the reader, while reading "Birth of a Hero," had also delved into another novel— "The Trash of the Count's Family," featuring the main character, Cale Henituse. The reader kept this information to themselves, 

The reader kept this information to herself, knowing that revealing it might stir unintended consequences. Cale, after all, had strong opinions about being a main character, and she wasn't ready to disrupt the narrative in such a fundamental way.

As the deal was solidified, the reader couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. While she had desired a normal and peaceful life, the impending wars and conflicts on the horizon threatened to shatter that dream. With a sigh, she accepted the reality that her life in this new world would be more chaotic than anticipated.

"Well, I guess my life will be more chaotic as usual,"

Months and years had passed since the peculiar alliance between Cale Henituse and the reader began. Over this time, the reader had seamlessly integrated into Cale's world, becoming an unwavering presence by his side, supporting him in his endeavors and contributing her strategic acumen to their shared plans. The initial transactional nature of their partnership had evolved into a genuine camaraderie.

Within the past month, the reader had not only proven herself as a reliable ally but had also formed close bonds with Choi Han, Lock, and especially Rosalyn. The shared affinity for magic had quickly united the reader and Rosalyn, leading to collaborative experiments and the exchange of ideas. Their friendship grew rapidly, becoming a testament to the connections forged in the midst of their shared adventures.

A remarkable development occurred in the reader's relationship with the children—Hong, On, and Raon. At first, the trauma they carried made it difficult for them to approach the reader. However, displaying an understanding heart, the reader patiently broke through those barriers. Over time, she became a motherly figure to them, offering midnight snacks, gentle pets, and unwavering care. The children, once distant, now adored her, finding joy in just catching a glimpse of her figure.

While the reader's interactions with Cale were primarily bound by the terms of their agreement, a subtle undercurrent of something deeper began to flow. Cale, ever the pragmatic strategist, valued the reader for her calm demeanor and insightful contributions. As their alliance unfolded, he couldn't help but acknowledge the reliability and resourcefulness she brought to the table.

During moments of peril, when Cale overexerted his ancient power, the reader's concern for him was palpable. Despite knowing about the Vitality of the Heart that kept Cale safe, her worry was genuine, and Cale, in his own way, appreciated the sentiment.

Cale saw you as reliable ally you always calm and strategic mind when giving a plan or opinion to his plan and conaidering both of similar situation waking up to this world because of novel

interactions often revolved around shared goals and common enemies, where the reader's strategic mind proved invaluable to Cale's schemes. As plans unfolded and dangers loomed, Cale couldn't help but appreciate the reader's intellect and resourcefulness. Yet, amidst the chaos, the thought of a deeper connection lingered in the background, unnoticed by both parties.

Cale trust you.

As the months passed, a subtle transformation took hold of Cale Henituse, a man known for his nonchalant demeanor. Emotions, once foreign to him, began to bloom in the quiet corners of his heart. It was a strange yet exhilarating experience, one that he couldn't quite put into words. The presence of the reader seemed to be the catalyst, stirring a spectrum of feelings within him.

There were moments when Cale couldn't escape the fluttering sensation in his chest, especially when met with the warmth of your smile or the melodious notes of your laughter. The concern mirrored in your eyes during his darker hours resonated deeply with him. The reader, unbeknownst to themselves, had become more than just an ally; they were Cale's closest confidant, a pillar of support in the unpredictable landscape of his tumultuous life.

In the quieter moments, Cale found himself drawn to the reader's presence. There was an unspoken understanding, a connection that transcended the need for words. The reader possessed an innate ability to read him, to sense his unspoken thoughts and emotions. Their reassuring presence became a balm for his troubled soul.

Stolen glances became a regular occurrence, moments when Cale's gaze lingered a beat longer than usual, absorbing the details of your presence. The well-practiced facade of indifference crumbled during these stolen moments, revealing a softness that betrayed the depth of his emotions. Cale couldn't deny the warmth that enveloped him whenever you were around. It went beyond friendship, evolving into something deeper that he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge until now.

Choi Han, Rosalyn, Ron, Raon, and the rest of the group began to notice the subtle changes in Cale's behavior. Choi Han, always observant, caught onto the small gestures first. Thoughtful gifts and considerate gestures, once foreign to Cale, became a silent expression of affection. Trinkets were discreetly slipped into the reader's possession, each one a carefully chosen token of his feelings.

Raon, Hong, and On, with their keen perception, also picked up on the shifts. They noticed the softening of Cale's eyes whenever the reader smiled, and the three little creatures couldn't help but share knowing glances amongst themselves.

The rest of the group observed the transformation in Cale's body language. Casual touches and lingering glances, the unconscious following of the reader's movements in a crowded room — all spoke volumes. Even Hans, the ever-discerning butler, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the newfound tenderness in Cale's interactions.

However, amidst all these observations and changes in Cale, the reader remained oblivious to the subtle transformation. The reader, focused on supporting Cale and navigating the challenges they faced, was unaware of the storm of emotions brewing in the young master's heart

Days later, Cale became aware of his feelings.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the expansive field. Flowers of various colors swayed gently in the evening breeze, their petals catching the last rays of sunlight. Cale Henituse and the reader found themselves on the outskirts of a quaint meadow, a tranquil haven away from the chaos of their unpredictable world.

Amidst the blossoms, the reader stood, captivated by a particularly exquisite flower. Their eyes traced the delicate petals, and a soft smile played on their lips. Cale, a silent observer, leaned against a nearby tree, watching the scene unfold. The ethereal quality of the moment seemed to amplify the connection between them, as if the universe conspired to create a canvas for emotions to unfurl.

There was a tender intimacy in the way the reader's fingers delicately brushed against the petals, in the way their eyes reflected admiration for the beauty before them. It was a snapshot of serenity, a moment that seemed to freeze in time, capturing the essence of something deeper.

Cale's gaze lingered on the reader, and in that stillness, realization dawned upon him like the first light of dawn. The way his heart fluttered as he observed the reader, the warmth that spread through his chest—it was more than admiration. It was a profound acknowledgment that the person before him had become an irreplaceable part of his world.

The subtle breeze rustled the leaves, and as the reader turned to meet Cale's gaze, there was a moment of unspoken understanding. Their eyes held a shared secret, a connection that transcended words. Cale, usually adept at navigating the complexities of life, found himself at a loss for how to articulate the emotions swirling within him.

As the reader approached, a question lingering in their eyes, Cale hesitated. The vulnerability of the moment gripped him, and for the first time, he struggled to find the right words. Yet, the truth hung in the air, unspoken but palpable, like the fragrance of the flowers around them.

"You have a way with flowers," Cale finally spoke, his voice softer than usual. It was a diversion, a subtle acknowledgment of the beauty before them and the emotions that danced in the spaces between their words.

The reader, attuned to the shift in the atmosphere, smiled knowingly. "Nature has its own way of expressing beauty," they replied, their gaze meeting Cale's with a warmth that mirrored the setting sun.

Cale, known for his pragmatic approach to life, found himself grappling with newfound emotions that defied logic. The term "love" had always been an enigma to him, a concept best left to the poets and dreamers. Yet, here he was, standing in a meadow as the realization dawned—the person who had once been a strategic ally had become the linchpin of his world.

Love had taken root in his heart, a delicate bloom that unfolded in the quiet moments amidst nature's beauty. The stoic facade that had defined Cale for so long began to crack, revealing a vulnerability that mirrored the fragile petals surrounding them. As the sun dipped lower, casting a warm glow over the meadow, Cale's heart echoed with the unspoken truth—he was in love.

"Hello Nacrise! Thank you for your request; I really appreciate it! I apologize for taking so long, as my mind was blank, and I couldn't fully think about the scenario I wanted. Thankfully, I've managed to finish it, and I hope you like it! if i have time i can make a part 2 of this!