#i need her inside my ribcage

[pinkwright]

she's so cute i wanna rip my heart out for her

( none of these pics r mine btw )

[cosmicseafoam]

"Is it okay if I do this?", "can I do this to you, is that okay?"

Darling. Angel. Beloved. How can I tell you that you could kill me to death with your bare hands and I'd thank you for it???

[still-living-like-im-trying]

More art of Commoner Knight Tani (OC) for Nimona:

[quantobono]

definitely not me craving for a surgeon!levi x resident!reader... yeah caught me redhanded, I'm watching the last season of grey's anatomy... I was thinking slow burn like really slow, kinda enemies to lovers (actually scratch kinda I want me and Levi to really hate each other), a lot of banter and a lot of smut yes... at first I was thinking Levi as a neurosurgeon BUT I actually envision him better in cardio??? like the "(not so)heartless" surgeon specialized in fixing hearts??? OR EVEN AS A PEDIATRIC (I actually don't like children but idk I can see that too, I'd fold tbh)??? wow I would gulp this shit down my throat like fucking coke with ice during the hottest day of the year

[biracy]

I want you stuffed into my mouth Hold you down and tear you open And live inside you Love, I'd never hurt you But I'll grind against your bones until our marrows mix I will eat you slowly

Ludo - The Horror of Our Love [You're Awful, I Love You, 2008]

[plutolovesyou]

Okay.. but like, loser ellie but she’s also a stoner and explains the entire lore of spider man to you while you’re trying to have seggs and she’s like stoned out of her mind and yapping about literally spider man 😭

before you read!!

☆: THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY IM CRYING LMFAO had me dying for like 10 mins straight. this is longer than intended bc im a yapper as we know, and i kinda don't know much of the spiderman lore (and you can def tell oops)…BUT I LOVE THE WAY YOUR MIND WORKS NONNIE.

◇: sfw but suggestive themes. warning: FAR from my best work, just wanted to keep momentum going ig. basically just fluff, lots of buildup as usual SORRY i have to establish a plot before we get to the good stuff…they're of age obviously, their relationship is left vague/up for interpretation so fill in the blanks w/ your own thoughts! “babe” pet name usage, consumption of weed, duh. ok i suppose that's all. OH AND SBWM REFERENCE HAHAHA (shameless self plug :3) + 1.0k wc.

One nice, regular night, chilling at Ellie’s humble abode, getting high, the usual Friday evening activities. You both were laying down in her bed, wrapped up in her dinosaur bedsheets of course, you were resting your head on her chest, occasionally coughing and swatting away the residual smoke that lingered in the air.

The weed had made your head fuzzy and your mouth drier than the Sahara desert, but despite all the not-so-great things, you loved to get high with Ellie.

Sometimes you'd fuck, sometimes you'd talk about life and reminisce about the good, the bad, and the ugly, and sometimes you'd just lay there to enjoy each other's company.

She was so warm and comfortable, you simply wished to merge bodies and become one with her, to make a home inside her ribcage even. You'd be perfectly fine just napping there on her cushiony chest, listening to her steady heartbeat and slow intakes of breath, if it wasn't for the familiar ache of need between your legs.

Shifting to look up at her, she was so incredibly zooted out of her mind, you found it hilarious. Chunky glasses covered in fingerprint smudges and sitting crooked atop her nose, eyes blood-red and so heavy lidded, you'd have thought she was asleep had you not taken a closer look.

You lifted yourself up and pressed your lips to the side of her pink cheek, repeatedly kissing her soft, smooth skin. She let out a husky giggle, her voice all hoarse and crackly from the substance. “Hiiii.”

She dragged out the vowel, grinning widely at you. Her smile was infectious, and you laughed at her state. Burying your face again in the crook of her neck, you mumbled, “Hi Ellie…you're so cute.”

Tangled up together, you kissed her some more on her neck, wanting to be as close as possible to her. She sighed, and angled her head to give you better access to more surface area. “That feels nice.” She'd slur, and you were pretty turned on at this point, to say the least.

It was worth asking. “Ellie…do you wanna fuckkk?” You whisper against her ear, and watch in delight as the bright-red blush spreads across her entire face like a wildfire, even reaching her collar, and spreading underneathyour shirt. “Um, yeah, duh. C’mere.”

You pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips, tangling your hands in her auburn locks and parting your puffy lips to invite her tongue in, not noticing the spit dribble down your chin where your faces met. Her breathing quickened immediately, and she whined into your mouth, the kisses getting even messier to the point where your teeth were clinking together, so you backed away for a breather.

The two of you shifted positions so she was now on top of you, resting her hand on your hip, thumb rubbing small circles. She moved in to initiate more lip-locking, but pulled away abruptly.

“Babe I forgot to tell you, so y’know Peter Parker, right?” And there she goes.

“Yeah, yeah I know him, can you just-” You try to rush past the beginnings of her rambling, because you knew once she got started, there was no end in sight. At least for a while.

You tried pulling her in to meet your lips again by the back of her head, but were met with lots of resistance. She seemed to look more alert now, a miracle. The power of superheroes!

She shuffled off of you and sat upright, assuming a cross-legged position, clearly not noticing your exasperated huffs and purposely obnoxious eye rolling, and the fact that there was a whole-ass human, half undressed, horny girl on her bed right there in front of her, who was slowly losing patience.

Ellie just went to her own world. Her eyes sparkled with passionate wonder as she thought about the series so dear to her heart. “Okay I rewatched all the movies a few days ago and I noticed something new…”

You were ready to give up what you originally had in mind, she was too far gone. She talked and talked endlessly, and you had to feign interest, nodding along and murmuring, “Mhm, yeah Els. Wow that's cool. Huh, never knew.” As enthusiastically as you could, so she didn't feel like she wasn't being listened to.

It was worth noting too though, when she started info-dumping about her interests she really was adorable, an excitement in her grassy eyes you never see otherwise, gesturing wildly with her hands and mapping out ideas to make it easy for someone who's never seen any of it to digest all this new information.

“...And then, in the movies Into the Spiderverse and Across the Spiderverse, there's this character called Gwen Stacy.”

She stops to cough and clear her throat, now seemingly appearing to completely forget that you were even there.

“And- oh yeah! She's also in the comics and ugh she's awesome, I really love her suit. It's got a hood on it…if I were to have a spider suit, it would be her style. Hm, it would also be mostly like, green…with red accents, ah I'm gonna show you all the sketches I made of it. But anyway…”

To be completely honest, you've been out of the mood for enough time now, and you've come to the realization that it actually didn't bother you.

This was Ellie, and you loved her for her! There was always next time you two met for a smoke session, you just loved spending time with someone so treasured such as her, and you'd be lying to say the Spiderman world wasn't a little interesting.

"That's so cool, wait. Okay can you explain the timeline of it all, oh and also how do all these different movies interact, is it the same universe, or something like the multiverse I think you mentioned?”

[saetoru]

Tee 🥹 so RB Gojo always shows up to YNs house unexpectedly or wants her to come over. What if one day out of the blue, like 2 am she shows up at his house in tears due to stress. And for once he can be the caretaker and dependable one. And then she falls asleep in his arms arms and he gets to be the big spoon for once. I could see her whispering “you’re it for me too” while thinking he’s asleep.- dabitee anon

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。BEFORE & AFTER — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)

contents. college au, rich boy! gojo, stressed reader :(, comfort, cheesy banter lol i tried ok, slightly based off of this drabble

notes. dabitee anon. babie u are my biggest rb! gojo inspo u always think of the sweetest lil moments between them sobsss i adore you sm

sometimes, gojo forgets you're not always put together. sometimes, you struggle to get assignments finished, and sometimes you don't wake up for work on the first alarm, and sometimes studying is too much to handle no matter how determined you are for an A.

"thinking about me this late, sweetheart?" he grins as soon as he picks up your call, laying back on one arm as he stares at the ceiling. he doesn't expect to see you call at two am, but you do—and when he hears the short, wet sniffle through the phone, he doesn't waste a moment to sit up. "sweetheart? you good?"

"toru can you let me in?" you ask quietly. gojo feels every crack in your voice pierce into his chest—it's rare for you to need him like this. he thinks he's always needed you more than you've needed him, truthfully. you've always opened doors after he's stormed out on his father, you've always laced your fingers after arguments with suguru, and you've always rubbed his back when he's hunched over toilets after one too many drinks.

when was the last time you've let yourself need gojo? he doesn't have the time to even try and remember, his feet carrying him over to open his front door quietly. and it's you—you with teary eyes and puffy cheeks, you with tired dark circles and wobbly lips. it's you, but it's not the you he knows, the one he's used to.

the one good thing about gojo satoru is he always knows how to talk—he speaks enough for two, knows how to fill the silence when you can't bring yourself to speak. his arms tug you into his chest before you can open your mouth to explain.

"did you drive all the way here with those watery eyes?" he hums, "wanted to see me that bad? it's dangerous driving like that, baby."

"didn't wanna be alone," you mumble, sniffling into his chest. his hands are big—they're good for rubbing slow circles into your back, the warmth of his palm seeping in through your shirt and pressing against your skin.

"i'd have come if you texted me," he hums, "'m always up, anyway. you know i was beating suguru's ass in mortal combat? he owes me a burger."

"you can afford one yourself, idiot," you huff, making him chuckle. something about the low rumble of his chest against your cheek makes the tears flow a little faster—not because you feel worse, but because it's safe enough that you can.

sometimes, you forget gojo isn't that spoiled and whiny handful you love to call him. sometimes, you're reminded that he's used to being alone, that carrying emotions enough for two is his forte. your cheek presses harder against his chest, like you could bury yourself inside of him like that, like hiding away in his ribcage is where you're safest from the rest of the world. maybe it is—maybe all you need is him to make it safe.

"who's got my baby crying the night before an 8 am class?" he asks softly, “i’ll punch ‘em.”

“what if i say you, will you punch yourself?”

“for you, always,” he nods seriously.

he knows how to ask these things like that: like it's not heavy, like you can make a light-hearted joke or two so that you're not drowning in your own vulnerability. sometimes, you forget that gojo is no stranger to hiding his own vulnerability, that he knows how to hide it under a playful grin and a cheeky laugh.

"that group assignment's due soon and no one's done anything yet but me, and i had to pick up an extra shift to cover for someone, and that quiz coming up is apparently super hard, and my electricity bill was high this month and i don't know why, and....and—"

"okay," he hums, "the electricity might've been me," he says with a quiet chuckle, "i always forget to turn the lights off. I'll handle it, yeah?"

"but—"

"it's not paying for you," he cuts you off, "it's paying you back. there's a difference. now c'mon. i make good hot chocolate."

"it's out of a packet," you sniffle, lips curled into a pout as his thumb swipes away at your tears. he traces the swell of your cheek before pinching it lightly, making you huff.

"hey," he gasps, "it's special because i put extra chocolate in it! it's my secret ingredient."

"it's not a secret if it's the main ingredient, toru," you mumble, letting his fingers thread with yours as he tugs you along to follow him.

"do you just live to correct me?" he whines, "can't i have one thing?"

and when he hears that soft, breathy little giggle from you, he smiles to himself, the ache of his chest calming just a little. you think gojo could always do that if he tried—pull a small laugh or two out of you even if the world was crumbling around you, keep your lips curved up even as everything goes wrong.

he's enough to forget about that damn project, and that extra shift, and that absurd quiz, and that distressing bill. maybe it's in the way he makes the whipped cream look like a crooked heart in your mug, or the way he burns his tongue as he takes a sip too fast, or the way he swings your arm as he drags you to his room, or the way he wriggles his brows at you as he takes his shirt off before bed, or the way he presses that delicate, sweet, careful little kiss to your forehead as you lay on his chest.

because he has to be enough, he thinks as he holds you, he has to be good enough for you that he outweighs every bad thing you'll ever deal with. he wonders if you know you're it for him, if you know that no one else could fill the spot you've wormed your way into unknowingly. he realizes it that night you hold him, the same night you didn't scold him for ruining your sleep, the same night he finds his way to you when it feels like every road is blocked.

and when the roads are blocked you find your way to him too. so he lays quietly under your cheek, feeling your fingers trace those slow hearts into his skin as he hears you murmur, "i think you're it for me too, toru."

his brows furrow—and then he realizes you must have heard him that night, just like he's hearing you now. a small part of him wants to laugh at the odds, at the way you both can't bring yourselves to say it when you're sure you'll hear each other. the other part of him thinks maybe you were always supposed to find each other, that you were always meant to stay awake and hear hushed words that are supposed to be secrets.

but then you tilt your head up, meeting his eyes, like you know he's awake. oh, he realizes, you've always known, haven't you?

"oh yeah?" he asks, "what if someone cuter and funnier comes along?"

you giggle—not one trace of stress or fear or defeat on your features, not with him there. "i met suguru and still chose you," you tease, making his gasp in disbelief.

"that's so mean," he whines, "i made you hot chocolate with extra chocolate! you can't say my best friend is cuter. and for the record, i'm way funnier than him."

"i'm kidding," you grin, pinching his cheek. "i love you. thank you," you add quietly.

"love you too," he kisses your temple. sometimes, gojo forgets what it was like before you—and he doesn't really want to remember.

atp rich boy! gojo is just his own character to me sjfjsjfj i’ve just created a whole new dude in my head with the same irritating blue eyes

[servicpop]

Hhhhhhh this is gonna be embarrassing 4 me to write out shshjsjs but I LOVE your writing and I have a request

If your like up for it, could you write another yanfic? But cowboy x ‘showgirl’ (a dude cross dressing for fun) it’s sfw

Like the cowboy goes to one of the readers shows and is immediately obsessed with the performer who he assumes is just a really flat woman, but when the cowboy goes backstage to find the woman he’s met with a man who looks identical to the woman on stage and realizes that the woman of his dreams was actually a man and to the cowboy that’s even better

N they go on a date and it’s fluffy and shit cus i love fluff and cowboys, i really fucking love cowboys

-🎱

✶ ﹑ love at first performance ﹏

NOW STARRING : Soft cowboy (Cole Hudson) x show"girl" reader

「ㅤSFWㅤ」ㅤCole goes to watch one of reader's show and was captivated by the performance but he didn't know that reader wasn't really a showgirl.

✙ warnings — fluff, reader cross-dresses, addresses reader as woman in the first bit (he doesn't know yet) use of her once! I'm not very good at portraying a cowboy well...

notes ,, this got me doing my research ! not too sure if this is accurate for show girls (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠) not proofread!

Dusty boots scraped on the floor as Cole navigated through the bustling crowd; his heart raced from how many people there were. As the cowboy wandered in the dimly lit venue, his gaze fixated on the stage where beautiful women dressed in flamboyant clothing that glittered and swayed with their movement, danced along with the rhythm of music blaring through speakers. One showgirl especially caught Cole's attention. The way your body moved like water was hypnotising and he coupling stop his heart from thumping against his ribcage.

At first, Cole wasn't interested in these loud events; always scarin' his poor cows and his horse, but this time his pal had really insisted for him to visit one. 'It would be fun,' he said, 'see lots of spectacular performances and maybe some cute girls,' he said. So, Cole rode his horse into the heart of town and here he was now, stuck between sweaty bodies and glaring lights in his eyes.

That one performer though, your radiance was brighter than the other showgirls. Cole was entranced by your dancing, oh how he wishes he was there with you, hand on your hips, slow dancing under the soft streetlights of his home town. He slid his hat off, placing it over his chest almost like he was trying to muffle the sound of his racing heart. The costumes were bright, dazzling, and flowed easily in the wind. They were also quite revealing, accentuating the girl's cleavage and showing off the performer's midriff. All but you.

Cole noticed the lack of well— a larger chest like the other girls had, but he just assumed you were flat-chested. That didn't matter to him, besides, he prefered modesty anyways. After a few minutes, your performance was unfortunately coming to an end. The music faded out and the vibrant lights dimmed as he watched you all bow. The venue filled with deafening clapping but Cole couldn't help but stare starry-eyed at you as you walked off stage. He needed to meet you in person.

The next act slowly made their way to the stage but Cole couldn't care less about them; it was a horse show! He's pretty skilled with horses himself so there was no need to stay. Once again he pushed through the crowd of cheering people, weaving his way out of the venue. When he emerged out, Cole was hit with the crisp night air, a stark contrast of freshness compared to inside the venue. His eyes scanned the area, trying to find where the performers went after their show and he was able to spot a small tent that had light seeping out of the gaps. Cole walked over to said tent and grazed the fabric with his fingertips in hesitancy. He took a deep breath; his chest heaving before he shut his eyes and pushed the fabric aside, walking inside.

He opened his eyes as he walked in, a few showgirls turned around to look at him with confused faces and he just stood there dumbfounded. The words he wanted to speak were clogged by the lump in his throat. You walked up to him, waving your hand infront of his face, "Hey, are you okay?" You asked with a raised eyebrow. He blinked a few times before tilting his head down to meet your gaze. Christ you were beautiful, almost hauntingly similar to the showgirl he was infatuated with earlier. "U—um, I'm looking for a specific showgirl that performed tonight and I was wonderin' if I can... find her," He mumbled out, his eyes locked onto your features as if he was assessing your face. "Are you two, by any chance, relatives of some sort?" He questioned, his country accent shining through his voice.

The girls giggled while taking off their make-up and Cole shot them a confused glance. You sighed with a small chuckle and you looked down at your feet, "By any chance, would this 'showgirl' you're looking for, be me?" Once again, Cole stared at you with his jaw open. He felt his heart strangely flutter despite knowing that you were a guy. He swore he wasn't into guys but you were— different. Not like any man he's seen. He just couldn't shake off his attraction towards you.

"You're a fella?"

"Yeah, you got a problem with that?"

"Well I'll be damned, you are one beauty."

The mixture of his country accent and your more refined accent strikingly contrasted but for some reason complemented eachother. City boy meets country boy. It seemed like Cole had a staring problem because once again, he was blankly gazing into your eyes. It was charming though, how Cole always looked like he was admiring you. Pretty flattering to say the least. Out of nowhere he spoke up...

"How 'bout takin' a ride on my horse?"

How did you get here? Holding onto Cole's waist, you screamed pathetically. Your eyes were screwed shut and your cheek was pressed against his back, all you could hear were hooves thumping on the ground and Cole's warm laugh that echoed through the valley. You two were going so fast that you swore you'd fall off if you didn't hold on tight enough. "You enjoying the ride darlin'?" Cole chuckled, peering over his shoulder to see you clutching onto him like a koala, "Slow down, please!" He ignored your pleas to slow down, "C'mon sweetheart, open your eyes, the stars tonight are just somethin' else!" He yelled through the noise of the wind instead. When he saw that you didn't budge from your terrified position, he just let out a soft laugh and placed one hand over your ones that were clasped around his waist. The warmth of his calloused palm spread to your fingertips and you almost forgot how cold it was tonight. "We're almost there, don't worry," his voice was gentle and thick like honey as he reassured you.

You weren't used to this, not used to the serene silence of the nature, not used to the wind beating so hard against your body, not used to clinging onto a cute cowboy for your dear life as he rode his horse with such passion. You've grown used to the smoke filling the city, used to the loud noises of late night partiers and engines running, used to being by yourself in an apartment with only the warmth of your blanket to keep you company. When was the last time you felt so— free?

The wind died down and you two slowly halted to a stop; you didn't even realise. "You can let go now sugar," Cole giggled as he waited for you to look up from the comfort of his back. You raised your head, your eyes meeting the beautiful scenery of a small cliff with forests lining the background and a starry display of the night sky that seemed like the stars were winking at you. This was a sight you could never see in the city. Cole slides off his horse, planting his two feet on the floor before extending a hand up to you to help you get off too. Your hand reluctantly meets his, the warmth of his palm returning to your finger tips as he guides you down, catching you when you hopped off. The way he handled you was so gentle, as if he was a beast and you were a fragile butterfly.

"Guess you could say we're on a date, huh?" Cole's smile punched your gut from how soft he looked, his hand never left yours. You scoff at his remark — but in a light-hearted way — as your eyes leave his instead, and returned to the scene presented infront of the both of you. It really did seem like a date, far more romantic than any fancy dinner in the big city. Oh and the way his eyes aren't even looking at the sky. He's looking at you. "Ain't it a sight for sore eyes?" He marvelled, and you know he's not talking about the scenery.

"Yeah, it really is," You breathed out quietly like your breath had just been taken away. Cole's eyes finally leave you and he stared at the soil beneath him before he spoke, his voice hushing to barely above a whisper, "You goin' back to the big city soon?" He doesn't want you to leave. Not now. Not yet. Before you could speak, his large hands bring yours together and he traps them between his. His eyes were wide and his brows were furrowed, "Please don't go," he blurted out, embarrassingly higher pitch than he wanted his voice to be.

Your eyes soften as you couldn't help the giggles that escaped your throat. Your eyes lingered on his hands over yours and you noticed the way his fingers trembled slightly but his strength in his grip never faltered. He wasn't allowing you to leave. You did have time before your next gig so, why not?

"Maybe I'll stay for a little longer."

Your heart ached when you saw Cole sigh in relief, his eyes darting everywhere but yours with dusted rose cheeks. He let go of your hands, clutching his own. "I reckon I'll take you out to the strawberry farm my buddy owns. You can't find nothin' sweeter than the fresh grown strawberries out here," He proposed, his fingers skimming over his own knuckles. He was somewhat afraid that you'd reject him. You were so sophisticated, so refined that he couldn't help but feel silly next to you, a big performer who traveled the country to entertain. You, on the other hand, almost instantly fell to your knees from his adorable invite. Strawberry farming? With this cute cowboy you just met? Hell yeah!

"Sounds like a deal, um—" You just realised, you never got his name, "Oh! It's Cole, Cole Hudson," He replied, tipping his hat at you. Jotting his name down in your mind, you glanced at the sky, and noticed that it was incredibly dark, your manager and the girls would be worried if you were nowhere to be found in an unfamiliar place, "Well, I guess it's time to let you be. Let me take you back to your place for tonight." A whistle breaks through the silence in the air as Cole called over his horse, her hooves tapped against the floor in a trot as he took your hand in his and hoisted you up onto the horse's back before hopping on himself, "Hold on, sweets," He smiled, waiting for you to wrap your arms around his waist, securing yourself to him. With a gentle nudge of his foot and the flick of the reins, he guided his horse forward.

You were a little braver this time, keeping your head up as you tried to look around you but it was practically useless now as everything was pitch-black. You wondered how Cole could navigate in such darkness, maybe it was because he travelled up this same path multiple times and knew it better than the back of his palm. As of now, you put your whole trust in him to escort you to your hotel safely.

The lights of the town in the distance inched closer as you two finally made it back. The town was eerily quiet as many people were presumably asleep at this hour — it was so different to the city. "Thanks for the ride, Cole, I really enjoyed it," You thanked him while fumbling to get off his horse; you were still getting used to it. Cole had a hand gently caressing the mahogany-coloured fur of his mare as he looked at you with those hazel eyes of his.

"See you here tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure."

You found yourself rushing to meet up with Cole the next morning. Something in you just— felt at home with him. You met up with him, he took you on his horse, and after a few long conversations about seemingly anything that popped into your minds, you and Cole arrived to the strawberry farm. It was a surprisingly big farm with green rows of leaves with a pop of red peaking out from behind the leaves. Cole helped you put on your boots and strapped a hat to your head to shield you from the harsh sun of the countryside.

"I'll teach ya how to find the sweetest ones," Cole grinned, flicking his head to the side as he encouraged you to follow him. He trudged along the rows of strawberries with his sleeves rolled up above his elbows, showing his well-built forearms. He had given you a little basket and labelled you on 'basket duty,' but you didn't complain. You stared at his back while he proudly walked infront of you, it was now that you realised how big he was compared to you, both in height and muscle. Could you grow to his height in the future? Probably not.

You were snapped out of your trance when Cole squat down and reached a hand out to one particularly red strawberry, "Here, this is a good one," he hummed contently before plucking it off the stem before handing it to you, "Y'see, a bright red tells you its a sweet strawberry, and these green caps are also good," Cole explained. He placed the strawberry into the basket and turned back around, walking forward with peeled eyes. He wanted to find the best ones for you.

"How 'bout you try, darlin'?" Cole asked, glancing over his shoulder before reaching out his arm to encircle around your waist, drawing you closer and leading you forward. "Alright," You hesitated on agreeing but why not give it a try? You couldn't get this experience anywhere in the city. Your eyes caught on specific strawberry that fit the 'Sweet Strawberry' criteria that Cole suggested to you. Vibrant color? Check. Green cap? Check. You picked it off the stem and showed Cole for approval. He placed a hand on his chin as he looked like he was lost in analysing the strawberry. A smile plastered on his face and his dimples appeared, "You'll ain't gonna know 'till you try it."

Bringing the strawberry to your lips, you sunk your teeth into it, the refreshing sweetness meeting your tongue. Your gaze was casted off into space as you took some time to process how to describe the taste until you suddenly felt warm fingers tilt your chin up. Before you could question it, Cole leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, savouring the taste of the strawberry that was lingering on your lips. It was only a small peck before he pulled away. You swear you were just swept off your feet and— was it getting really hot or was it just you? You stood there, frozen, unsure of how to act after that kiss. That was enough to send your heart running laps.

"It's real sweet, you sure did a good job pickin' that one sweetheart."

♡

notes ,, I loved writing this so much! Thank you nonnie ♡♡ I wasn't planning on writing this much but I just had to ,, anyways! If you wanna see more Cole please request scenarios/date ideas/etc etc, also, thank you for 400+ followers ♡ my read more thing keeps breaking so don't mind if its kinda weird!

[ariestrxsh]

ﾟ･✧⋆:˚⋆𓀏𓌜⛓⋆༺𓆩♡𓆪༻⋆⛓𓌜𓀏⋆˚:⋆ ✧･ﾟ

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, utter filth, threesome, elements of BDSM, establishment of safeword, knifeplay, cutting off clothing, degradation, humiliation, oral, face fucking, rough unprotected sex, creampie, facial, dumbification, light elements of corruption

📝 author's note: 📝 please do not engage in knifeplay if you do not fully trust the other person or if they're inexperienced. it is dangerous. here is part one of this fic. please read it. it will add a lot of context and make part two even better. 💖

✍️ Summary: ✍️ A game of truth or dare between you, Matt, and Chris has steered itself in a darker direction. You and Chris end up corrupting Matt's innocence and naivety to the world of BDSM.

ﾟ･✧⋆:˚⋆𓀏𓌜⛓⋆༺𓆩♡𓆪༻⋆⛓𓌜𓀏⋆˚:⋆ ✧･ﾟ

knife part two

"Let's go to my room," Chris suggested, gathering all our clothes and the liquor. Matt's hands wandered to my waist as he guided me into Chris' room. Matt pushed me onto his brother's bed, and I watched as they both towered over me.

"We need a safe word," Chris muttered. "Why not just 'no' or 'stop'?" Matt naively wondered. "Matt, you're no fun," Chris rolled his eyes. "How about 'pomegranate'?" Chris suggested, a smug look forming across his face. It was clear to me that with how quickly he came up with it, he'd used that safe word before and that he knew he'd be responsive to it. I nodded, and so did Matt.

"You already got to fuck her. It's my turn. Give me your knife," Matt growled. Ugh, his dominance was showing. Chris handed his brother the switch blade from out of his pocket. "Do you trust me?" Matt huskily whispered, looking into my eyes and fiddling with the knife. "With my life," I whispered back, biting my lip as I felt an anticipation brewing deep within me.

I couldn't have predicted what Matt was going to do next. He left me in utter shock as he cut my t-shirt from my torso. Then, he sliced my bra from my ribcage, and then I was lying totally naked below him. Matt looked in awe at my body and then in awe at the sharp object in his hand, watching the light catch in its reflection as he fidgeted with it. It was almost as if he was surprised he had it in him to use a knife so close to somebody's skin like that. I know Chris and I both were.

For a split second, I was disappointed about my tattered clothes, but the cost of a new bra was way cheaper than the priceless thrill I experienced as Matt wielded a weapon around, threatening me in the most exciting way.

Matt rested the knife between my knees and looked up at me with a darkness in his eyes, "open your fucking legs," he commanded. I became like water beneath him, willing to be whatever he needed me to be and eager to bend to his every desire. My legs fell open without having to think about it. He took the knife and started lightly tracing a line from the inside of my knee to the inside of my thigh. Goosebumps arose all over my whole body, and the hair on the back of my neck stood at attention for Matt and the power he held in that moment.

The emptiness between my legs ached to be filled by him as he taunted me. I loved the sensation of the cool blade gliding across my warm skin, sending shivers down my spine. He continued to drag it like a feather across my stomach, between my breasts, and finally, he held it up to my neck. I looked into his electric blue eyes while I felt the cold metal resting against my throat. I swallowed hard. He held the knife there while he maneuvered his cock inside me.

His thrusts were controlled, steady, and methodical. He took his time, but his strokes were incredibly compelling and passionate, hitting all the right spots every time. "Your pretty pussy feels so good," Matt groaned, applying a little more pressure with the knife. I could already feel myself starting to get close, but I wanted this sensation to last forever, so I decided I'd hold on as long as I could.

Chris came around to the side of the bed, made a ponytail with his hand, and tightly gripped my hair. He looked down longingly at the knife against my throat and the fear and arousal in my expression. He smiled maliciously at me as he slid his meat into my mouth. He watched intently as I opened my throat to accept all of him, and his length disappeared behind my lips. "You swallow my cock so well, you naughty little whore," Chris hoarsely said, beginning to fuck my mouth with incredible vigor.

I loved every minute of them both pounding my different orifices in different ways while I felt the cold, sharp edge vibrating against my neck. I was slightly nervous about Matt being inexperienced with knifeplay, especially with the way my body was jerking around beneath them, but I trusted him.

Sweet nothings and gorgeous sounds passed between their lips while we all moved harmoniously with one another. Chris couldn't keep his hands to himself, and Matt was staring down at my pussy while he moved in and out of me, slowly but powerfully. I felt a rumbling deep within as they brought me to my fourth orgasm of the night. Thank god Chris was muffling my satisfied sounds with his dick so that Nick didn't hear me cumming from the next room. My legs started to tremble, and my eyes rolled back as I finished all over Matt's cock that was buried deep in my warmth. Matt and Chris both grinned from ear to ear, completely satisfied with themselves and how simple it was for them to me to cum with their combined touch.

Matt switched the blade closed and set it off to the side, and then he used both hands to grab both my legs to hold them in place and delivered some incredibly powerful thrusts until I could tell that he was barely hanging on. His eyes were rolled back, his pink lips were parted, and his expression was overcome by sheer pleasure.

I shifted my gaze to Chris, who still had a tight grip on my hair and was thrusting himself into the back of my throat like his life depended on it. He looked like he was in a trance, lost in the way his cock looked plunging in and out of my mouth. The room was filled with the sound of my gagging, skin slapping against skin, and Chris' and Matt's desperate moans.

At the same time, I felt both their cocks start twitching and pulsing in my different holes, and they both filled me with their loads as they loudly grunted and eventually slowed their thrusts to a stop.

Matt collapsed onto the bed next to me, smiling, breathless, and sweaty from how much effort he'd put into fucking me. "That knife thing? Crazy hot. I felt so powerful," he whispered, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

Chris bit his lip and looked down at me astonished, my watery eyes, my bruised lips, my chin covered in my own saliva and his semen. "Wow, look at how gorgeous you look covered in me like that," Chris whispered, wiping some of the fluid from my face with my clothes Matt had cut off earlier in the night. I fucking loved how freaky Chris was. I loved that he could ruthlessly face-fuck me and get off on how helpless and pathetic I looked under his control, and then he would wipe my face lovingly after. And I loved that despite a lot of this being outside of Matt's comfort zone, he was willing to try it, and it turned out he was good at it and enjoyed it.

"I don't know about you guys, but I could keep fucking going," Chris muttered softly, running his finger along my bottom lip and looking at me like he was starving for more. "I could go all night for you two," I replied in a sultry tone, staring down at Chris' soft, plump lips and licking my own. "Get on your hands and knees," Chris demanded, his voice dripping with lust. "Matt, I want you to fuck her little whore mouth, and don't be shy about it."

I eagerly got into position. Chris came up behind me and started teasing my hole with his hard member, running it up and down my slit, gathering wetness. Matt appeared in front of me, and he looked down at me with his gorgeous blue eyes, conveying to me how badly he wanted me to open my mouth, and so I did. They both entered me at the same time, and I was immediately under both their spells. I couldn't think straight.

Chris' thrusts were primal and needy, immediately starting off mercilessly. Matt was slow and gentle, but the power from Chris' strokes threw me forward onto Matt's dick, causing me to choke a bit. "I told you not to hold back. Do as I said and fuck her mouth silly," Chris shot Matt an annoyed look. "I don't wanna hurt her," Matt uttered, looking down at me with loving eyes, biting his lip, and brushing my cheek with the back of his hand. "You saw her porn history. Nothing can hurt her, and if it can, then she likes it," Chris laughed.

I nodded in agreement with what Chris said. I couldn't say anything with Matt's glorious meat filling my mouth, but I tried to communicate with my eyes, I can handle it, I promise. Matt reluctantly obeyed his brother, and I relaxed my throat to allow him in more deeply.

Matt's thrusts started becoming more brutal. He was still sensual and passionate, but he seemed as if he had tapped into a more carnal part of him that was willing to do anything to hunt down his orgasm. His eyes darkened as he savagely fucked my mouth, and a lustful smirk grew on his face.

"That's it. That's what I'm talking about," Chris grunted, quickening his own thrusts. I loved the way Chris bossed us both around. I loved how rough he was. And I loved that he could read me like a book, knowing exactly how I wanted to be used, and being able to convey that to Matt.

"How does she look Matt?" Chris asked breathlessly. "So hot. She's drooling all over my meat. She's got tears in her eyes, and she can't keep her vision straight. Oh god," Matt whimpered, pounding into me even harder. "Awh, she's all dumb for our cocks," Chris cooed, "that's all she's good for, being our little cock sleeve." I fucking loved listening to Chris degrade me. He was so goddamned good at it. I could tell Matt was also relishing in the way Chris was talking about me. Maybe Matt was a little less vanilla than he thought.

"Do you like being called a little whore?" Matt softly asked me while he ruthlessly fucked my face. I looked up at him and nodded as best as I could. "Yeah? Do you like being my little whore?" Matt tenderly asked, testing the waters, considering he'd never degraded a woman in such a way before, especially not to her face. I feverishly nodded again and moaned in response. "Ugh, take my cock, you fucking whore," Matt rolled his eyes back into his head and smiled maliciously. I could tell he fucking loved calling me that. I couldn't help but to think about how Chris and I had corrupted Matt's tame taste and introduced him to a whole new aspect of his sexuality, a much less inhibited side, and I loved being there to discover it with him.

I focused my attention back to Chris, the way he was somehow still going. His stamina was fucking incredible. And he didn't skip a beat. He rhythmically pounded his throbbing member into me, hitting my favorite spot with every stroke. His breathing was labored and profanities passionately flowed from the tip of his tongue and filled my senses.

I was on the brink, once again. All self-control, lost. Any amount of strength I had to hold myself together any longer shattered within me. I moaned against the base of Matt's cock as my legs started wobbling, and I covered Chris' cock in a shiny sheen of my juices. At this point, I'd lost track of how many times I had climaxed.

"Can I cum on your pretty little whore face, hmm?" Matt cooed as he got closer. Fuck, I thought he'd never ask. I eagerly nodded. "Here it comes," Matt warned me. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue as a sticky, warm rope of Matt's sperm generously splattered across my cheek. Matt continued to stroke his member until he had completely finished, dousing my face in his fluids. "Holy shit," Matt said, pushing back his sweaty hair while he peered down in sweet delight at the mess he'd made.

Having witnessed his brother cumming all over my face, Chris came unraveled. He throbbed inside me, letting out a few more ravenous groans while he emptied himself into me. "Fuck, Matt. That last cumshot was cinematic," Chris complimented Matt with his rod still inside of me. "Means a lot coming from you," Matt smirked at Chris.

"So, what did you say about us before? If I recall, it was 'disturbed' and 'sick'?" Chris mocked Matt. "I guess I see the appeal now. Or maybe I'm just as sick and disturbed as you guys are," Matt panted.

"Oh no, did I get it in your eyes, pretty girl?" Matt asked, turning his attention back to me, a look of concern on his face while he wiped his substance from my brow with my torn shirt. "It wasn't your fault. I didn't close my eyes because I couldn't stop admiring how good you looked while you finished," I admitted. "I'm sorry I was so rough with you. That wasn't very gentlemanly of me," Matt said, cupping my face after he'd cleaned me off. "Don't be. I loved it. You were the perfect gentleman to me," I replied, biting my lip. "Chris, will you go run the shower for her?" Matt inquired, but Chris was already getting up to go do so, "on it."

Matt started examining me to make sure he didn't hurt me with the knife. "Oh fuck. I marked you," he anxiously told me, running his finger along the raised red line. I reached up to feel it. "Don't worry, darling. It happens. You didn't even break skin. It's just a little irritated," I consoled him.

"I'm gonna go get you a glass of water, pretty girl. Just sit tight for me," Matt whispered, kissing me on the forehead.

taglist: @sturniolo-girl @alizestvrnss @seluky10 @sleepysturniolo @sturnsxbitvh

[anisangeldust]

Religion in your lips 𝜗𝜚⋆

Summary: A turning point had been established in your relationship with the president. Or several..

Part: ← ii →

Warnings: obsessive behavior, stalking, creepy/perv Coryo, misogyny, masturbation (m), wet dreams, emotional abuse, manipulation, mentions of grooming, allusions to murder, objectification.

A/N: I need him expeditiously. Also I’m so sorry that this is so late! I’m working as fast as I can!

A dastardly crime you had unwillingly committed, you had began to not only wedge yourself into the life of the president, you also absentmindedly plagued his whole being. One week, one week of work and you were already a problem.

Coriolanus couldn’t help the way you became his muse, you occupied every free and taken crevice of his mind, yet you were so blissfully ignorant of the predator so carefully stalking your move; waiting for a prime opportunity to pounce. The President was a smart man however, he knew that patience was key, and if he wanted to have you at all, he needed to be careful.

Everyday he’d watch from his office as you took your lunchtime break, sitting within the gardens of the presidential estate and chatting with the gardeners. Taking notice of which flowers you seemed to be drawn to, as to which he decided he’d get you a bouquet of your favorite under the feign guise of thankfulness. Testing the waters he thought.

So Coriolanus couldn’t help but feel satisfied when he saw the small smile on your face. Was it that easy to impress you? Nevertheless, he felt immense satisfaction when you tucked the little note he wrote into your front pocket and took one of the flowers to place in your hair.

The young president swore he’d never care for another again, yet here he stood, in lust with a simple worker, and sooner or later he was going to get what was his. To get you.

——

“Gypsophila is a highly toxic flower, deadly if consumed. But it is very pretty.” You rambled to the president as he sat sipping tea. The most beautiful sight you were, so full of life, so happy, oh how he craved to posses you; to destroy the youthful innocence you paraded like a trophy.

“Interesting indeed.” Coriolanus nodded, his gaze never leaving your perky chest and silky hair. A beat of comfortable silence passed when young Snow remembered his fiancée’s behavior, the dwindling aggravation now building up again. “And i’d like to apologize on behalf of my bride-to-be. She is a little shall I say.. enraging at times” He sighs and leans back.

“Worried I was not Coriolanus.” Your smile and innocent acceptance made him furious in a way. The need to sink his teeth into you was almost overwhelming. He wanted to cut you open and crawl inside your ribcage. This was a feeling he’d known never before, and he was positive it’ll linger for the rest of his natural life. Before you blessed him with your presence, he had yet to see someone so willing to do a good job, your aura was addicting.

“You know, I don’t really love her.” The words left Coriolanus’ lips before he could stop himself. He almost chuckled at the way your brows furrowed.

“My condolences? Why.. are you marrying her then?”

“You know, capital business.” He sighs and leans back. If only he had picked you! Such a scenario had swept through his mind many times since he’d met you. If only he could’ve waited. “Such a shame I choose such a…brat.” He scowled at the thoughts of his fiancée.

The look on your face was somewhere between shocked and startled. It was amusing how Coriolanus could tell you were biting your tongue to hold back your own thoughts on his future beloved.

“Allow me to not meddle in your personal business Coriolanus.. but I suppose if you want unsolicited advice, it’s never too late to change your mind. You’re already president. One called off marriage won’t kill you” your polite voice was so calming to the achy soul he possessed. The young Snow knew you had no idea of his intentions for you, and that thought was delicious.

“I appreciate your insight darling. I shall think about your words carefully. I fear you’re too smart for the position you hold at the moment.” He chuckles. You deserved the seat of First Lady, the title of his wife, do be the mother of his future kids, and it took every molecule of his being to hold back from expressing that desire.

Comfortable silence fell into the room, only the quiet scuffling of feet or sipping tea piercing the lack of noise. The thought of being so comfortable with a person was a concept so foreign to Coriolanus. the last person he was comfortable with had betrayed him, left him to die in the forest. Something about you, however, was different. His songbird didn’t see what she missed, she craved the wild life she had. You enjoyed order, respected Panem, you’d never leave him like she did. You’d never leave him like she did. A pang of vulnerability struck the president’s chest. Could he really trust you? Would you betray him like she had? No, you wouldn’t, because he could control you. And you’d let him.

If the want wasn’t already clear enough in its mind, that moment solidified it. He had to get rid of Livia. He had to have you. and then his face falls in the same breath. A foreign thought crossed his mind at the same time though. What if you already had someone? The idea made him seethe. How dare someone else have what’s his? He’d ask you. No need to jump to conclusions right?

“Darling. You’ve never mentioned any kind of boyfriend? Don’t mind my prying, I’m just curious.” He says in masterly hidden mock confusion.

“Oh uh.. I was dumped actually. Right before I took this job. He said he needed to focus on himself or whatever else they all say” his words adding a small flush to your cheeks.

Good. This was good. No, this was excellent. Single and vulnerable. Ready for the perfect man to save you from your pain and heartbreak, ready for a strong and handsome man like him to make you feel worthy again. He couldn’t have written this better himself.

“Oh darling, I’m so sorry. He sounds like a dunce, you’re clearly too good for him anyway.” Coriolanus smiles, opening up the door of careful manipulation.

A bloom of pink popped into your cheeks at his words. “Thank you Mr. President. I’m thankful we’re over. And I appreciate your compliment.” Your murmur back was almost funny. And the attempt to hide the flush on your face with turning and dusting a random surface was funnier to him.

“You’re welcome darling.” His short response and wink made your heart beat visibly faster, but he chose just to let you do your job and not bring it up. Mentally he was kicking himself. For having you so close yet unreachable. How was he supposed to get rid of his bride-to-be? It would be a scandal, one too big to cover. The Cardew family would stop at nothing to tear him down if he left her, he’d lose all he had. Amidst his thinking, he stood up and pleaded against the bookshelf you were dusting. “You can tell me if Livia says something rude. You’re a maid, yes, but you’re still a person. Don’t be scared to let me know if she’s making you uncomfortable.” He cooed smoothly.

“Will do. Thank you Mr. President. Though she isn’t that bad. We just got off on the wrong foot. But of course I’ll tell you if she does anything.” Your cheery attitude was refreshing. A light in a dull atmosphere.

“Thank you darling.” Coriolanus kissed your hand gently before leaving. What a gentleman.

——

Damn you and your little dress. Damn you and the fabric that clung to your curves so nice. How could he focus on anything? His eyes darted around his office, desperate to find something to focus on, and find something he did. A rag you’d left. A rag that you clipped onto your skirt to wipe off your forehead occasionally. Immediately, Coriolanus stood up and took the white fabric in his hands. It belonged to the manor, it was soft and good quality, and upon further inspection, it had a small stain on it. Your sweat.

His pants tightened as he brought the fabric up to his nose and took a whiff, your perfume lingered on the threads, teasing him. The thought of using Livia crossed his mind, after all, what was she good for if not as a tight cunt? But it felt almost insulting to you to fuck Livia in your place. The last time he did it left a sour taste in his mouth. He couldn’t just take you, not yet, he needed more time before he made his move. Left with no other options, Coriolanus locked his office with a click and sat down in his chair.

He freed his erections from the confinement of his pants and boxers, softly stroking his hardening cock with the marked cloth. The sight of his pre mixed with the little bit of sweat had him going crazy. The need for you was insatiable, he couldn’t help himself as he pumped his hand up and down his cock, stopping to tease the fat tip with his new prized possession. He brought the tag up to his nose to smell your scent again, pumping his dick as he inhaled the fumes. He came to the thought of spreading you open like a flower and indulging in your soaking pussy. He was only lightly embarrassed when his mind came to. Though it was drowned out quickly by the satisfaction of his orgasm. He needed you badly, and he was more determined than ever to get you.

——

Over the next few days he gave you small gifts, chocolate, a bracelet, an up in pay, all because he “felt bad you got broken up with” of course. He was a compassionate man, of course he cared about you! How dare you think he was just going this to get you to trust him and tell him more about your private life? He was. It was a little tiring having his other staff ask you the questions and then report back to him, but the smile and flush on your cheeks made it worth it. And his attempts weren’t in vain, the longer he pined, the more you told him, the more ammunition he had to get you to say more; a deliciously vicious cycle.

The more you trusted him, the more you told him about anything Livia did, He expected Livia to be an asshole. He knew that it was only a matter of time before she was rude enough that you said something. What Coriolanus didn’t expect, was for his fiancée to physically harm you. And especially not right in front of him. The soft thud and following mewl of pain from outside his office had caught his attention. He got up and went to the source of the sound, only to find his fiancée standing over your crumpled form.

“I thought your job was to clean? How are you supposed to get anything done if you’re such a klutz? Oh come on, that didn’t hurt” she taunted as you tried to get up off the floor. It was clear she pushed you, or tripped you in some way, that didn’t matter to Coriolanus though, she hurt you. And he was pissed.

“Hey, what the fuck happened here?” He demanded, anger pointed 100% at Livia, though the anger made you wince.

Livia turned around immediately, acting like she had found and helped you. “Oh It’s all okay Coryo, she was just cleaning and she fell, nothing to worry about, I was just making sure she’s alright!” Livia clutched her chest, gently helping you up. Coriolanus didn’t believe it for a second.

“Really? Is that true?” He said as he turned to you, eyes squinted in disbelief

You felt put on the spot, he’d be mad if you lied, but you couldn’t just tell him she did it and run the risk of her hating you more than she already did, so the former seemed best. “Y-yeah. She, she did find me. I just fell” you muttered sheepishly.

Coriolanus knew you lied, and that angered him, But he also knew that you would’ve told the truth if Livia wasn’t there. The knowledge that you were going to tell him everything after was comforting enough for him to huff and sigh “I’m sorry. I just don’t appreciate dawdling.” He sailed in an eerily calm tone. Livia snickered like she’d won something, and Coriolanus forced himself to just keep walking and not shout at his fiancée.

Young Snow was standing and peering out of the window in his office when he heard you open the door and walk in. He heard you gently start to clean the many books and surfaces that lined the room. Coriolanus liked that about you, you never spoke to him unless he spoke to you first, and it turned him on.

“My anger was not directed towards you.” He started “though I’m slightly miffed that you lied to me. Tell me what she actually did” he turned around to look at you, his face stern yet inviting as he waited for your explanation of the events.

He noticed your slight gulp and timid frame as you put down your rag to look at him. “She uh.. I was wiping down lamps in one of the lounges when.. she- she pushed me into a table, and a p-picture frame landed on my head..” your mumbles and stutters would have been cute if he was pissed off. The nerve that woman had, and to play victim too? He was just about at his wits end with her.

“It’s okay darling. I believe you. And I’m quite annoyed that she would abuse staff like that. She’s jealous that you’re better than she is, that’s all” he coos and walks towards you. He gently puts his large hands on your arms “you’re doing great. You’re the best maid I could’ve asked for. Now go finish your job for today. I’ll get you something for the inconvenience and I’ll talk with her.” He said as he leaned down and gently kissed your cheek.

——

“I don’t appreciate you abusing staff Livia.” His voiced was stern and unapologetic, the opposite of how he approached you, as he entered his quarters of the presidential manor.

“What could you possibly be talking about Coryo? If it’s about the maid then I told you, she fell and I found her. It’s not my fault she’s a klutz.” Livia scoffed at the mention of you.

Coriolanus slammed his hand on the wall, his eyes full of fire. “I didn’t give you permission to speak woman. Shes been working here 3 weeks and she’s ‘fallen’ twice. And both times she was conveniently in your surroundings. If it happens again I’ll be very, very disappointed.” He says through gritted teeth and goes to walk away but stops. “And my name isn’t Coryo. Its Coriolanus. I don’t care that you’re my fiancée, you’ll treat me with respect.” He demanded before pushing past her to take a much needed shower.

Falling into the clutches of morpheus came easier than expected that night. In the realm of dreams, Coriolanus' unconscious mind becomes a canvas of desire and longing. Your delicate form becomes the centerpiece of his erotic fantasy, envisioned sprawled across his desk, the epitome of seductive submission. As the dream unfolds, his touches and caresses paint vivid imagery, a private symphony of pleasure that reflects his deepening admiration and desire for you. Coriolanus' dream grows even more intense as you become increasingly sensual and inviting, giving yourself to him so fully and passionately. The boundaries of his imagination blur, and he loses himself in the intoxicating pleasure of your presence. He moans and groans, overtaken by the overwhelming sensations of desire and satisfaction. He whispers your name gently, his voice filled with both reverence and need

When his eyes cracked open to the rays of morning sunlight, he was both grateful for the opportunity of another day with you, and irked that he woke up to the sleeping body of his useless fiancée.

——

Coriolanus started looking forward to when you’d come into his office to clean and chat. What was once cold small talk had morphed into you telling him everything about yourself. How you were a recent academy graduate, you were open to but didn’t have any plans for University, you had a white cat named Pearl that you love like a child, and you preferred tea to coffee. All facts that seemed so mundane about others were so tantalizing coming from your lips.

“So this job is only until you decide on what you want to do? That’s a shame. You’re very good at it. Replacing you wouldn’t be fun. But I’m proud of you for working and earning money. Not many people do that in the capitol. Especially not those who come from rich backgrounds like you do.” Coriolanus said with feigned nonchalance as he absentmindedly stirred his tea.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who could clean the mansion just as well, if not better than I” your tone was sweet and soft, you’d never understand. No one could ever be you, you were too important, how would he survive without you? He wouldn’t.

Coriolanus stood up and chuckled “I’m sure, but none of them are as kind, or sweet, or as beautiful as you” he coos and tilts your chin up to look at him “none of them could captivate me like you have” he murmurs. This was a now or never moment. He couldn’t go back now, and with your big eyes preening up at him he couldn’t resist. He gently leaned down and captured your lips in his own, gently cradling your head and holding your face.

“Coriolanus..” you murmured and he gently broke away with a small smirk playing at the edges of his lips, his gaze cast down to look at your wide and surprised expression.

“Shhh.. I know you wanted that too darling, tell me to stop and i will” he mumbles as he captures your lips in his own again, gently waiting for you to accept the kiss. A wave of satisfaction washes over him as he fells you relax and accept the kiss, he grins against your lips as he feels you hands on his chest.

Your lips tasted of a sweetness he had never experienced, how he was meant to pretend he didn’t want you was a problem for the future, right now all that mattered where your lips and his desires. Getting rid of Livia may have to happen sooner than he anticipated.

Taglist!

@daenerysqueenofhearts @caramelandvenus @yoursrosie @wearemadeofstardust0 @kay-lla @mrsriddlenott @sleekervae @ianales @qoopeeya @arzua10 @matcha-muses @jitsuki12 @nojeicintjzonfhw @poppyflower-22 @lustforrush @jefferson-in-the-tardis @aurabambi @royal-sunflower @rovckwells @rubys-rere @iydImsydxoxo @lucyisdoingfine @nyxxoxo @paradisepoisons @miserableblood @poppyflower-22 @anonymous14261703170309 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @sqct @anakinluvr4ever (tell me if I missed you and you’ll be added🫶)

[zebuie]

.𓂋 𝄞 Close To You 𖧷

❁PAIRINGS❁; girlfriend!ellie x reader.

❁ཻུ۪۪ ⋅ READ THIS. # DAILY CLICK ➹

⊹𓂋 SYNOPSIS; sitting on Ellie's lap while playing videogames turns into soft lovemaking <3

✸ 𓂃WARNINGS; wc: 2k, swearing, fingering (e & r receiving) , eating out (e & r receiving) , boob sucking (r receiving) , pet names ( baby , princess , good girl / i think that's all)

You were bored in your room so you started playing video games on your Playstation. Ellie, your girlfriend, came into the room and saw you playing, she asked you: "Don't you prefer to play on my lap? It's more comfortable, I promise." 

She gave you a smile and you agreed.

You turn off the PlayStation, setting the controller aside. Then you sit back down on Ellie's lap, relaxing into her embrace. 

You can feel the heat of her body through her clothes, the softness of her blouse against your skin. She smells good, like lavender and vanilla. 

You breathe in deeply, feeling yourself start to relax, to unwind. Ellie's hands roam over your back, tracing the lines of your spine. 

You let out a soft sigh, a pleasure-filled moan— barely audible. 

Ellie leans down, planting a trail of kisses along your neck. "feels good?" she whispers. you reply with a eager nod. Her hands continue their exploration, drifting lower, to the small of your back. You arch, pushing your back into her touch. 

Ellie chuckles softly. "Sensitive?" she asks, her lips brushing against your ear. 

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Her fingers linger, tracing patterns, making you shiver. 

You sit there for what feels like hours, just enjoying the moment, letting Ellie's touch work its magic. And as you sit there, you start to feel that familiar pressure building once again.

You continue to sit on Ellie's lap, enjoying her touch, the way she makes you feel. 

Her hands wander, sliding under your shirt, her fingers tracing your ribcage, dipping into your waistband. 

You arch into her touch, encouraging her to continue. Ellie leans down, her lips finding yours in a soft, sweet kiss. 

As she kisses you, her hands slide up, pulling your shirt off over your head. You feel a rush of cool air, followed by the heat of her hands on your skin. She discards your shirt carelessly, her attention focused on you. 

Her lips trail down your neck, your chest, her hands roaming freely now. You feel yourself getting wetter, your panties clinging to your flesh. "Ellieee," you breathe, your voice hitching with need. 

She looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire. "yeah?"

"I need you," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. Ellie smiles softly, her eyes glinting with triumph. 

"Always," she responds, her voice low and husky. She stands, lifting you up effortlessly, and carries you off to her bedroom. 

Once there, she lays you down on the bed, kneeling over you. She looks down at you, her eyes burning with desire, her lips curled into a wicked grin. she reaches down and slides your panties down your legs, tossing them aside. 

You're left lying there, exposed and vulnerable, but also excited, anticipating what's to come. Ellie looks at your bared sex, licking her lips. "So pretty," she says, her voice full of awe. Then her tongue dips out, sliding through your folds, seeking out your clit. 

You let out a soft cry of pleasure, your hips arching off the bed. And then her fingers start to move, sliding inside you, scissoring, stretching you.

she then dives head first in between your thighs. she continues to tantalize your senses, her tongue lapping at your most intimate places. 

You can feel your body responding, getting wetter by the second. Her fingers slide inside you, scissoring, stretching you in the most delicious ways. 

She curls her fingers, rubbing that sensitive spot deep inside. You cry out, your hips bucking involuntarily. "Sensitive," Ellie observes, her eyes glinting with wicked amusement. 

Then her tongue darts out again, flicking at your clit. You try to keep still, but it's impossible. Your body is writhing, seeking out more of Ellie's expert touch. 

She obliges, rubbing her tongue against you in firm, consistent strokes. Her fingers never stop moving either, pumping in and out of you, keeping the pressure building, building, building...

Ellie continues her relentless assault on your senses, her tongue lapping at your clit, her fingers pumping in and out of you. 

You're so close, the edge of orgasm hovering just out of reach. "Don't come," Ellie orders, her voice firm but husky. "Not yet baby." She continues her ministrations, her tongue darting out in quick, hard strokes. 

Her fingers curl, rub, press. You try to obey, you try to hold back, but it's getting harder and harder. Your body is tense, coiled, ready to spring. "Ellie" you protest, your voice high and desperate. "Please -oh my god"

Ellie ignores your pleas, her focus solely on driving you mad with lust. 

Her tongue swirls around your clit, her fingers pumping faster, harder, deeper. You're so close, you can feel it, the rush of endorphins, the tingle of impending orgasm. 

But Ellie won't let you cum. "Not yet," she commands, her voice a low, husky growl.  "just getting started princess." She continues her relentless attack, her tongue lapping, her fingers curling, stroking that perfect spot inside you. 

You're trapped in a prison of pleasure, unable to escape, unable to reach your peak. It's torture, sweet agony. Your body is tense, writhing, seeking release. "Elliee" you cry out, your voice raw and desperate. "Please, I need..." But you can't finish the sentence. Words fail you, overwhelmed by sensation.

Ellie continues her relentless assault on your senses, her tongue lapping at your clit, her fingers pumping in and out of you. 

She's pushed you to the edge, kept you there, teetering on the precipice. Now, finally, she allows it. "cum for me baby," she commands, her voice a low, husky purr. 

Her tongue flicks quickly, lightly over your clit. Her fingers press, stroke, curl. And then you're falling, tumbling over the edge, into the sweet release of orgasm. 

Your body shakes, trembles, writhes. A cry tears from your throat. Ellie is there, holding you, supporting you as the waves of pleasure wash over you. 

It seems to go on forever, the aftershocks, the slow, gentle fading. Finally, you collapse back onto the bed, spent and satisfied. Ellie lies down beside you, pulling you close. "Good girl," she whispers, planting a soft, sweet kiss on your forehead.

Ellie tends to you with gentle, loving care. She wipes your face, your neck, your chest with a soft cloth. 

Her touch is soothing, calming. She covers your body in soft, sweet kisses, dotting your skin like stars in the night sky. 

Her lips trail across your flesh, your collarbone, your shoulders. She pays special attention to your breasts, your hips, your inner thighs. Each kiss is a promise, a seal of love and affection. As she tends to you, she pulls you close, holding you, making you feel safe and sound. "I love you," she whispers, punctuating her words with more kisses. "So very much." 

Ellie continues to shower you with affectionate kisses, her lips tracing patterns across your skin. she gently lifts up your tank top as she lingers longer over your tender nipples, her tongue flicking out to tease. 

You let out a soft sigh, a pleasure-filled moan. She chuckles softly, looking up at you with adoring eyes. "Sore, princess?" She asks gently. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. 

Ellie nods sympathetically. "I'll be gentle then." She continues her ministrations, her lips soft and sweet against your flesh. 

Ellie's lips wrap around one of your nipples, her tongue swirling around it in a maddeningly slow circle. 

You arch, pushing your breast further into her mouth. She sucks, hard, the pull on your flesh sending sparks shooting straight to your core. You cry out, your fingers tangling in her hair. 

Ellie hums around your nipple, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. She switches to the other breast, giving it the same attentive care. 

You're left panting, your chest heaving, your sex throbbing with renewed need. "love you so much baby," Ellie says softly, looking up at you with dark, desire-filled eyes. 

You gently climb on top of Ellie, settling between her legs. She looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire. 

You lean down, your lips finding hers in a soft, sweet kiss. As you pull away, you slide down further, your tongue darting out to taste her sex. 

Ellie gasps, her back arching off the bed. You lap at her, slowly, thoroughly, getting to know her taste, her scent. 

You slide a finger inside her, curling it, stroking that perfect spot. Ellie moans, her hips rolling into your touch. You continue your ministrations, determined to drive her just as crazy as she drove you.

You continue to explore Ellie's sex with your tongue, your fingers. You learn what makes her gasp, what makes her moan. 

You vary your touches, surprising her, teasing her. Ellie writhes beneath you, her hands tangling in your hair. 

She tries to urge you on, to tell you exactly what she needs. But you already know. You slide a second finger inside, scissoring, stretching her. 

Ellie cries out, her body tense, coiled. "So good," she gasps. "Don't stop."

You continue your relentless assault on Ellie's senses, your tongue lapping, your fingers pumping in and out of her. 

She's a whimpering, writhing mess beneath you, her sex dripping with need. You dip your tongue inside, tasting her, marking her as yours. 

Your fingers never stop moving, pumping, curving, stroking that perfect spot. Ellie is trapped in a prison of pleasure, unable to escape, unable to reach her peak. It's torture, sweet agony. 

Her body is tense, coiled, ready to spring. she cries out, your name a plea on her lips. "Oh my fuck,"

You continue your ministrations, but your touch becomes gentle, soft. You lap at Ellie's sex with a delicate tongue, your fingers sliding inside with the lightest of touches. You stroke, you tease, you tempt. 

Ellie whimpers, her hips rolling into your touch. You curve your fingers, rubbing that perfect spot with the softest of caresses. Ellie gasps, her back arching off the bed. You pull away, leaving her wanting more. "Please don't stop." She whimpers softly.

You continue to explore Ellie's sex with the gentle, soft touch of a lover. Your tongue laps at her, your fingers stroke, curl, press. You vary your touches, surprising her, teasing her. 

But always, always with care, with gentleness. You're determined to drive her mad with lust, but without causing her pain. 

Ellie writhes beneath you, her hips rolling, her back arching. She tries to urge you on, to tell you exactly what she needs—But you already know. 

You slide a third finger inside, gently, carefully, stretching her in the softest way possible. Ellie gasps, her body tensing. "So full," she whispers, her voice breathy and desperate.

you dip your tongue inside, pressing hard, curling. Ellie cries out, her back arching off the bed, her hips rolling into your touch. She grips your hair, her fingers tangling, holding you in place. 

"Yeah—fuck.." she screams, her body trembling, shaking. And then, finally, she's falling, tumbling over the edge, into the sweet release of orgasm. 

Her sex clamps down on your fingers, milking, squeezing. You ride it out with her, until she's spent, until she collapses back onto the bed, panting, trembling. You collapse down beside her, wrapping your arms around her, holding her close.

You get up from the bed, leaving Ellie panting, trembling, spent from her orgasm. You go to the bathroom, wetting a cloth with warm water. 

You bring it back to Ellie, gently wiping her sex, her thighs. She stirs, her eyes fluttering open. She looks up at you, a soft, sweet smile on her lips. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice hoarse from screaming. You gently clean her up, tending to her, caring for her.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo's little sister seducing Choso at Shibuya

Pairing: Choso x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,6k

Synopsis: When Gojo's little sister is at Shibuya in order to find her brother, she meets none other than Choso - a man that seems to have everything she has ever dreamed about. Is she able to seduce him?

Warnings: the end is spicy as hell so read at own risk, Choso being a lil slow but straightforward in the end, this has no real plot so be aware of brainrot

Tags: @96jnie @shebibtedmypepnis @chososwhoresblog @sanicsmut (you didn't ask for that but I tagged you anyway) @curlynoodle937565 @ifuckfictionalmen (thought you might like that) @nyahctrl @khaleesihavilliard

„Let’s see where you are…”, you mumble to yourself.

Satoru has some nerves, letting himself get sealed when the whole country needs him and his stupid six eyes and hollow purple. You’ll definitely make fun of him for the rest of his life for that. What else should you do? After all, you are his little sister. It’s your job to get on his nerves.

Your heels klick against the hard floor beneath almost therapeutically while your eyes scan the area. Seems like none of these fuckers are here. Who the hell is responsible for this whole mess? Surely not that volcano and flower guy from before, right? If Satoru is smart, he already exorcised both of them.

Something inside you makes you stop in your tracks. There is someone, without any doubt.

“Don’t be shy, you don’t have to hide from me. I promise I won’t bite. Just beating the shit out of you”, you announce into the darkness, the only thing lighting up the hallways being the colorful signs.

This definitely isn’t one of Satoru’s students, that’s for sure. None of them is already skilled enough to hide from your sharp senses. Fuck, even Nanami can’t escape you.

So, who the hell is this?

Your nerves begin to tickle just the way you like it, a bright grin plastered on your face. Finally some action, finally someone you can fight eye to eye. How long has it been since you’ve experienced that? Too long, that’s for sure.

Despite being Satoru’s little sister, you aren’t gifted with six eyes or unlimited cursed energy. No, even though being a member of the Gojo-clan you were never able to meet his standards, always a shadow by his side. Gifted with the same blue eyes but without the glow, gifted with a few strands of white hair but your head isn’t fully snow-colored. That didn’t stop you from becoming a grade 1 sorcerer, one of the bests under the special ranks. Yes, you are an exceptional jujutsu sorcerer all by yourself, without being gifted since birth.

But regardless of your big brother always came first, he loves you with all his heart. Protected you when you didn’t want to be protected, trained you even though you hated getting beaten by him, comforted you when all you could do was cry. To be honest, Satoru is the best big brother you could have asked for and it’s your responsibility to save him. What do you have siblings for?

“You’re starting to get on my nerves. Come out or get out of the way.”

Foreign steps start to echo through the hallway, making your heart hammer against your ribcage in an instant. These footsteps don’t sound familiar to you, you haven’t met whoever this is yet.

Your vibrant blue eyes dart towards the figure of what seems like a man, coming closer and closer to you. He’s tall, dark hair hanging into his face. Oh, his face…he’s really handsome with that tattoo over his nose. Since being Satoru’s sister comes with meeting many good-looking man, this is nothing new to you. But something about him is special, more your type. A look into his brown violet eyes is enough to get lost in them.

“You’re hot”, you coo out, heels clicking while you approach him.

“Who are you?”, his deep but bored voice questions.

Choso hates to admit it, but you’re easy on his eyes. Something about your appearance seems familiar while he’s sure he has never seen you before. That ocean eyes…

“You look like Satoru Gojo.”

“Yeah, I hate to admit it but I’m his little sister. Are we really that similar? I don’t want to look like him”, you remark, face twisted.

That means you’re his enemy, that means he has to kill you. Instinctively, he shoots slicing exorcism your way, attempting to pierce right through your heart at horrendous speed.

“Watch out, that is dangerous!”, you warn him, flying through the air with ease to avoid his attack.

Damn, you’re fast. Your speed is exceptional for a human being, almost as fast as Satoru Gojo himself.

“Let me come closer”, you hush.

Before he’s able to react any further, you stand right in front of him, fists flying his direction.

“You’re so quiet, what’s on your mind?”, you insist, careful to not get sliced open by his blood manipulation.

“I wish you were too”, he hisses before catching your fist mid-air and slamming your body into the ground.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad”, you purr, hands grabbing his strong shoulders tightly.

Satoru would kill you right here on the spot if he’d hear you, always disliking your taste in men like nothing else.

“I think he’s kinda hot”, you admitted while eyeing the dark-haired boy from Kyoto named Kamo.  

Satoru almost choked on his coke, eyes and face screaming in disgust.

Are you serious, (y/n)? What the fuck is wrong with your taste in men, why always the bad ones? Maybe you should get them checked.”

He roughly smacked the back of your head, making you almost lose it completely.

“Are you out of your mind, idiot? I heard your eyes can freeze if someone hits you in the head while you’re squinting!”

“Your eyes aren’t functioning properly anyway. How about someone like Yuta or somethin’, a nice guy with good intentions. Or even better, just do this world a favor and stay single.”

“Can you just shut the fuck up? You have nothing to say to me!”

“I AM YOUR BIG BROTHER-“

“CAN YOU TWO SHUT UP ALREADY!?”

Hehe. You smile to yourself while shaking your head, focus back on the man in front of you. Oh, you can tell by the way he moves that he’s absolutely buff underneath that cloak. And his eyes…They look even more stunning up close. What a gorgeous man. Yes, he’s definitely more than your type. Who is he?

“Tell me your name.”

With a swift motion, you’re back on your feet, curse-loaded fists aiming for him.

“Choso Kamo”, he presses out.

What’s wrong with you? Are you really trying to seduce him while battling? He’s your enemy, he’s on his way to kill your comrade, he…you…

Why are you so good-looking? And why does your confident smile make his usual calm heart flutter? You don’t seem scared at all, let alone determined to kill him.

“Oh, that explains the blood manipulation.”

“I’m here to kill Yuji Itadori.”

“Yuji, huh? What did that poor boy do to deserve your hate?”, you question, letting yourself fall into a split to avoid his blood.

“He killed my brothers”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

You stop in your tracks for a second, gaze fixed upon his. Oh. This certainly wasn’t the answer you were expecting. In your mind, all of these curses and the people working with them are cold-hearted monsters, walking on this earth to kill every human that gets in their way. But Choso…

You can feel his pain.

“I’m sorry to hear that”, you breathe out.

And you mean it. You’d be devastated too if someone killed Satoru, seeking for revenge with every fiber of your being.

Your glistening eyes and words make it hard for Choso to raise his hand against you. The eyes that look like those of Satoru Gojo, those eyes that are partly responsible for the death of his beloved brothers. No, he can’t let you get away, you are a part of the problem, you have to die, you…

You are grabbing his hand.

“If someone killed my brother, I would do exactly the same thing. But let me tell you this wasn’t easy for Yuji, he had no other choice-“

“I don’t want to hear it”, Choso yells, slapping your hand away, trying to slash you open again.

“Good for you I like my man feisty and strong. You’re a great catch”, you shout, entangling him in close combat again.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you understand that we are on different sides?”, he questions.

“Why though? We’d be a perfect match. I bet those fingers look good around my neck.”

The way Choso’s face instantly twists in disbelief and that little blush that creeps up his face are the best things you’ve seen for a long time while suddenly water rains down on him, fire alarms going off around both of you.

“Opsie, might have hit something important”, you comment, white uniform now soaked in water.

Did you really just say that? Are you too dumb to realize that he is your enemy, that romance has no place in his world, that he is fucking reincarnated? No, you are way too smart to not be aware of the fact who he is. You simply decide to ignore it.

But not only that, are you really flirting with him? Choso never really thought much about his appearance, it was never his goal to be ‘attractive’. But at the moment, when seeing your wet skin, your eyes lingering over him…

Something about your words and looks make him wonder.

“Do you…really mean that?”, he mumbles while blocking your attack.

“Huh, that you’re hotter than hell? Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m lying.”

Choso feels like fainting when your dripping face comes so close that it’s only inches away from his own, your mesmerizing orbs locking with his through wet lashes while your hands rest against his chest. Can you feel his heart hammer, can you tell that this the first time a women ever touched him? Oh god, what is he supposed to do? He has a mission, he needs to kill Yuji Itadori, he-

Your fingers start to draw small circles over the fabric of his soaked cloak, making something twitch inside his pants. Fuck, why do you have to look so absolutely stunning when your hair is completely wet, light up by purple light that makes you look almost angelic?

“Oh god”, he breathes out.

This feels so good. No, this is so wrong.

“You…you shouldn’t be flirting with me. I am party responsible for your brother getting sealed and killed. I am your enemy.”

“Urgh, stop talking about my damn brother, he’s fine anyway. He doesn’t let himself get killed by some idiots. And you don’t have to me my enemy. Let’s be…friends”, you suggest.

“Friends”, he repeats.

“Maybe more, who knows…I’m not mad about the things you’ve done. I fully understand why you’re outraged and what your mission is, I respect your motives”, you reply.

God, why does he have to be so breathtaking beautiful and relatable? Under all the men you’ve met, why is it exactly him you fell the hardest for? Why can’t it be someone like Ino or Todo? Why does it have to be him? Oh, Satoru will definitely kill you when he finds out about it.

But you don’t care. No, Choso has something you were looking for in every man you’ve met before. He is strong, outstanding smart, has clear goals, is straight up stunning and a little dangerous. You couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re standing on opposite sides.

You want him.

“You won’t stop me from killing Yuji Itadori.”

“I will have to try. But until then, there is absolutely no reason for us to fight, right? I’m into bad guys anyway.”

Choso looks at you completely lost at words. You, a breathtaking fine-looking and skilled jujutsu sorcerer, are really interested in getting to know him? This has to be a dream he didn’t know about until now, a deep desire that comes to life.

But he can’t resist. Despite all the things that speak against it, he can’t.

“Fine”, he grumbles.

“Great! Would you mind taking off that cloak so I can see your abs?”, you ask, eyes sparkling in excitement.

But why is this not enough? Why is a simple ‘fine’ not enough to fulfill that desire? Something inside him begs him to pull you closer, to hold your body firmly against his, kiss you and-

He swallows heavy. What has gotten into him?

“I won’t do that”, he automatically replies, gaze fixed on your pretty little mouth.

Oh, the things he wants to do right now, things he never thought about before. Is it because of the human body he reincarnated him? No, he never felt the desire to be close to a woman before. It’s because of you and the way you tilt your head, how you seem to know which words you have to use in order to drive him insane.

“Oh, was it too early for that? Fine, I’ll wait then… ”

Fuck it.

It happens faster than you’re able to react. With a swift motion, Choso pins you against a nearby wall, looking down at you with dark eyes.

“What do you have that other women haven’t had before?”, he hisses.

“Beauty, brain, power…”

You aren’t able to finish your ramblings. With rough hands, he grabs your waist and neck before pressing his lips against yours. You melt into his touch in an instant, too stunned by this sudden reaction. Instinctively, your very own hands begin to roam around his body, muscles now perfectly emphasized by the stream of water that pours down on both of you through the dim purple neon lights. Fuck, you’re melting like butter in his hands, your shared sloppy kiss being the only thing apart from the dripping water that fills the empty hallway.

“Fuck”, you moan into his lips, fingertips tracing through his wet hair.

This is straight out of your dreams. Making out with a man you didn’t even know an hour ago, a man that seems to have everything you want, a man who’s your enemy. But since when are enemies this good at kissing, since when is it allowed that they are so damn fine?

Why the hell are you so turned on?

He let’s go of you as suddenly as he grabbed you before, panting hard while looking down at you with glimmering eyes.

“I will search for Yuji Itadori now”, he proclaims, licking over his lips and closing his eyes for a second.

Slowly but surely, Choso returns back into reality, mind sorting itself. That felt good, way too good for his liking. If he didn’t let go, he’d probably stay here with you until the night ends. But he still has a mission to fulfill.

“You sure about that? Y’know, we could stay here a little longer, that fire alarm with all that water pouring down and the neon lights are kinda romantic…”, you begin.

“I’ll meet you again. Until then, don’t get in the way.”

One last touch. He allows his fingertips to brush over your cheek and mouth one last time before turning around and disappearing.

He’s gone, leaving you sinking down the wall as your knees give in. Mindlessly, your fingertips trace over your lips.

This really happened. Did you really just seduce the enemy? Your heart still hammers roughly against your chest, hands trembling in sensation while the water from above keeps pouring down on you. No man ever touched you like that, no man ever gave you that kind of feeling. Fuck, what did you get yourself into?

You chuckle into yourself, eyes fixed on the pouring water.

“If Satoru finds out about that…”

Click here for Part ll

[ahhhwomen]

Mom, I'm tired.

Vampire Empire

Part 2

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Alright, so this writing style is not what I am used to, so feedback is definitely welcome. Due to me being unsure of this style I wanted to take a little longer to write part 2, but since yall liked part 1 so much I decided a shorter chapter was in order, I am already working on part 3, but yall gotta tell me how you feel about this one. Oh... and don't hate me for what i am about to do...

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death Minors DNI 18+

Summary: You just want to rest.

Word Count: 1.4k

You don’t know what is happening, why- you try to pull in a desperate breath, but still, nothing. Why- why was this happening? What is happening?

Why can’t you move?!

The lesser scary of the two redheads secures herself tighter against you, now supporting your full weight. She has to shift from a crouched-down position to sitting completely in your little enclosure. Her ankle awkwardly bends beneath her thigh. The rough ground fraying her expensive dress pants.

There is a sensation like concrete pouring through your veins, you can hear your heartbeat slow, and immense pressure start building behind your eyes, but you are desperate for control over something, anything. So, as much as it pains you, you tiredly let your eyes roam around the room while trying to avoid the blank stare from the taller redhead.

Your vision takes in the scenery that has unfolded in your space, you drape your eyes over the walls, the horror of your evening with Master painted like a masterpiece, you then take a risk and slowly run your eyes over the lower half of the woman in front of you.

Wanda is standing like a woman in power, her feet spaced apart hip to hip, spreading her weight perfectly between the pair of high, amber, heels. There was a slight scuff to one of them, a chip in the plastic, whatever fell earlier must have fallen on that heel, you doubt she would walk around with an imperfect pair if not. You swirl your eyes to the ground beside her, a tusk of brown hair having caught your attention.

That’s when you see it. Staring right back at you are the lifeless eyes of the seller. Or at least that is the only name you have for him.

It’s at that moment that the reality of the situation finally sets in.

 

You go to let out a high-pitched whine, but no sound is made, and for the first time in a long time, you have this desperate need to cry.

You can’t even do that.

You don’t want to die.

Not like this.

You want to smell the fresh air in the cold mornings, you want to feel the sand beneath your toes, you want to taste the richness of vanilla inside a simple frozen dish, and you want to live. If only for a moment longer.

But-

There is nothing you can do.

Your body loses all will to fight, and you give up.

Wanda keeps track of your vitals while under her control, she doesn't want to hurt you, but you are out of line, and frankly, your behavior unsettles the redhead.

When she can see the fight drain from your eyes, she releases you.

She sighs as the strain in her muscles loosens, and she moves her neck from left to right, removing the remaining tenseness. A prickle in her spine begs her to stretch out her entire body, but this was neither the time nor place, though she does put a pin in it, maybe she should order a massage sometime soon.

As for you, there is no sign that you are back in control except for the desperate gasping for air.

You don’t know what to do with this newfound freedom, Romanoff´s hands are keeping you close to her, her heartbeat steady beneath your ear, but suddenly it’s all too much. The only thing you can do is let your ribcage expand and contract at a rapid pace, the pain grounds you as your bruised ribs sting you.

You no longer fight against Natasha’s grip, and there is no chance that you will either.

You are scared, they can both feel it, but it’s not like it was a moment ago. A moment ago you were fighting to stay alive, fighting because it is your instinct to do so, now, you have given up on even that.

Now, you are just scared, plain and simple.

Natasha rubs her hands up and down your back slowly, the fabric of her silken shirt bunches up with her elbows, and the roll of textile slides against your skin rhythmically. Your body tenses and relaxes at strange intervals, there is a mistrust between her motive and your tender flesh, yet you still crave comfort.

That is until you see Wanda shift from one foot to the other and Natasha’s hands move too close to your collar, you strain your body away from her palms.

Natasha huffs in slight annoyance and shifts her attention to her wife, “What was that?”.

She tries to keep her voice quiet enough to not startle you, but it’s a futile attempt and shortly after she has opened her mouth you are crawling out of her arms and back into your corner.

She can tell it pains you to move, the bruises along your arms and legs making it difficult to crawl in a fluid motion, and she sees you struggle your way under the lamp, but you manage. In the end, you swiftly slump back into the position you laid in when they first got here, the only difference being that you are too tired to move the rag back over your body.

Wanda merely shrugs, her perfectly fitted suit ruffling with the movement, “She was becoming aggressive.” To be truthful, your sudden outburst had taken Wanda by surprise, she didn’t even know what she was saying until it was too late.

Natasha sighs before standing and walking up to her wife, her pants now scuffed and dirtied. She brushed herself down, but the filth of this place wasn’t one easily removed. She gets a hold of her bearings and stands straight before she bothers with a disappointed reply.

“She was just scared, “ she shakes her head disapprovingly. They have lived long enough to see all types of people. And Natasha knows you're type, scared, abused, and skittish. A dog in the fighting ring, or a cat in this case.

Anything can make you snap and bare your teeth.

However, she also knows that taking your right to do so away, will only worsen your behavior in the long run. It never helps to use fear against someone who is already terrified.

Again, Wanda does nothing but shrugs and lifts her jacket to glance at her watch.

Playtime is over, they have places to be, and it saddens Wanda, but she knows they won’t be leaving here with a pretty girl like she had hoped.

It´s best for Natasha that she rips the band-aid off fast.

Wanda points over at your shaking body, “It’s clear Carol has her eyes on her. You know we can’t keep her.”

Wanda slumps in on herself while saying it, her shoulders lower and her back bows unnaturally, the seams of her suit stretching and pulling against the tight movement. After the words have been put out there, Natasha's face shifts and morphs until she settles for a relatively neutral, but rather grim expression. The right side of her lip lifted into a slight sneer; this was an unfortunate situation.

Natasha looks down at her hands, hands she had just held you in, there are specs of dried blood and dirt covering the expanse of her palms, she tightens her fist and takes a slow breath.

Carol is already enough of a handful. Taking her punching bag away from her will only make matters worse.

Leased pet or not, Carol owns you.

So, Natasha nods curtly, the back of her shirt rubbing uneasily against the nape of her neck.

“Well, let’s go then.” With no regard to the body at her heels she steps over the man and continues to strut down the hall with her wife following shortly behind. Someone will be by to clean him up and replace him with another pawn, it’s the way these places work.

And if she took a moment to listen in on your heartbeat one last time before they left, it wouldn’t hurt anyone that she kept that to herself.

It sounded wrong.

Whatever sympathy Natasha felt for you was quickly squashed down and ignored as she and Wanda returned to business as usual.

It’s for the best, a pet would only make them weak.

After the two mysterious women leave, you curl into yourself and a sob breaks through you before you can stop it.

Mom, I'm tired.

[hellojusthereforabit-blog]

Past Lives Pt. 1 - Bucky Barnes.

Time - travel. Angst. Unrequited love. Fluff. Ft. Sam Wilson.

"I think I'm in love with you." Out with it I go. James Buchanan Barnes, the former Winter Soldier, my partner, my teammate, my best friend, stares back at me, unblinking.

You could hear a pin drop fifty miles away if you tried.

I take Bucky's silence as a sign to keep going.

"We've known each other for two years now and, mission to mission, catastrophe after catastrophe, we have had each other's backs," I take a breath. Steady myself.

"It wasn't always easy, and we've had our differences and fair share of disagreements, but there's no one else I want to do this with, Bucky." I sigh, heart frozen in my chest, "You're it for me."

Bucky has the most unique set of eyes I have ever seen. The kind that pulls you in deep, leaves you frozen on the spot and inspires you to quote comically cliche poems at him in hopes of being spared a glance. Truly, Bucky is so beautiful that most days it's hard to look straight at him, but now I choose to face danger head on as I bare my heart out.

Bucky opens his mouth, but it takes him a second to collect himself enough to speak.

"Doll, I…" He's looking away, anywhere but at me, I realize.

My heart clatters inside my ribcage until I'm sure it caught on a fractured bone and exploded.

"Yes?" I say, quiet now, meek. I expected it. After all, Bucky is a go-getter - if he wants a girl, he'll go right after her. I should have known.

I'm so fucking stupid. Always over-estimating my place in other people's lives.

Bucky seems to take in big breath, but I can barely see him. My vision is hazy, blurred. I vaguely sense the burning of my eyes.

"I can't do this, doll," is all he says, "I'm sorry."

How long it takes, for one heart to trust another. How quickly it all shatters, I think.

"I-" Mortifyingly, my lower lip quivers. "Is it me?"

"No! Doll, don't be ridiculous." Bucky corrects quickly, reaching out to caress my cheek with his flesh arm. I realize he must be wiping a stray tear.

"Then why?"

"I'm just - I don't know if I'm ready."

I nod. Try to smile. Step away.

Instinctively, Bucky reaches for me, but his hand falls short at the distance between us and drops to his side instead.

"Are we…going to be okay?" He asks, wincing.

That nails the coffin. I feel my face crumble, so I tilt myself away from the man of my dreams, the man that's breaking my heart. I push through the pain and nod again.

"Dude, yeah, don't even stress it." I whisper, voice hoarse.

Bucky doesn't take the bait, doesn't laugh, just stares at me with big, sad eyes. He reaches a hand out to me again, but I roughly push it out.

"Don't you dare feel bad for me, Barnes. I don't need your pity." I snap, embarrassed.

"Doll, that's not-" he starts, but I cut him off.

"And don't fucking call me that! Don't be so condescending. This whole time I thought there was something here, that I wasn't crazy. You call me sweet names and hold me close after nightmares and look at me the way you do only to not - ." I stop myself, gesturing at the space between us. "If you were just using me for comfort and company, then it's done." I breathe hard.

I know it's not fair to my sweet, gentle Bucky. But laying your heart bare to someone and them pushing it back into your open arms is a different kind of pain. Don't judge until you try it.

Bucky's ocean eyes grow heated. I won't let him speak more, everything's said and done now.

"I'll see you Monday." I say finally, slamming Bucky's apartment door as I leave.

Bucky doesn't call out. Doesn't chase me down the street.

I can't believe I was so fucking stupid. I shake outside of Bucky's apartment complex until I'm sure all the makeup of my face has been wiped clean.

I dial the only other living friend I have left.

"What's up?" Sam's commanding voice is a welcome change from Bucky's soft and apologetic rumble.

I sob into the phone for long enough for Sam to trace my location.

"Oh, kid." He crouches by my slumped form on the floor. "Let's get you up and outta here."

I cling to Cap for dear life.

--

"He's the only man I've ever loved" I tell Sam, nursing the drink in my hand.

Sam stares at me with the sympathy and understanding he only ever reserves for his family - Sarah, and, more recently, Bucky.

He sighs, grimacing into the distance. I realize how this must look for him: his small team of surviving heroes - falling apart at the seams.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with this." I whisper, suddenly captivated by the bubbles fusing at the bottom of my glass.

"Hey," he says gently, head snapping back to me, "You cut that shit out, right now."

"Yes, sir."

"Smartass. You're my friend - I'll do just about anything to ease the pain you're in right now. Hell, I was just looking for a reason to beat Bucky's cyborg ass."

I snort, barely fighting a smile.

"There she is," Sam teases.

Then his face turns somber.

"Can you still work with the guy?" he asks, leaning in. "This mission we got on Monday, it's tough, Y/n."

I look up but don't respond.

In all my drama I overlooked how deep the lines in Sam's forehead had been etched there for a while. I don't remember the last time he relaxed, or even took a break from being Captain America.

"We need all hands on deck," he insists. "Which is just three pairs of hands but it's still something."

I let myself contemplate for a minute longer despite already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, 'course, Sam. I'll be there."

--

To say the atmosphere in the room is tense is a grave understatement.

"So, I'll start," says Sam, taking the lead of the mission brief. He eyes Bucky and me with careful measure. Bucky stares straight ahead, and I try similarly to concentrate on the copy of the files printed and carefully laid out in front of me. In the time that it took me to read and re-read my copy, Bucky kept his untouched.

I pretend not to see the deep dark circles that blossomed under his eyes when we exchanged equally cold "good mornings".

"We're time-traveling, now?" I ask, unamused by the idea in light of recent events.

"This is a very high-profile mission," explains Sam, devoid of his warmth from a few nights ago. This was Captain America speaking.

"There's been a breach at the base - some high-tech equipment from Tony's lab has mysteriously disappeared. We have reason to believe that Tony's time machine has been activated last week, sending one or possibly several armed suspects back into the 40s. The mission is to find and bring them back to this timeline, where they will be dealt with by our laws and regulations without causing more trouble."

"What makes you think they're hiding out in the 40s?" Bucky speaks up for what feels like the first time today. I dig my nails into my clothed thigh, trying hard not to think about how deep and smooth Bucky's voice is.

Bucky is figuratively perfect, it's hard to believe that he's walking around like this without a girl on his arm. Or maybe he already has someone - which would justify him turning me down.

I tell myself it would hurt less if he was already taken.

"I'm not actually sure," says Sam. "That kid - Spiderman - or whatever kids like to call themselves these days - pretty much handles all of Stark's leftover equipment and labs. He says that's where they're at." Sam finishes with a shrug.

"So, let me get this straight," I clear my throat. "You want us to undergo this incredibly dangerous mission in completely uncharted territory just because some kid's got a hunch?"

From the corner of my eye, I can almost see Bucky nodding along with my words, equally displeased.

"It's not uncharted - our team has done this before to bring everybody back." argues Sam.

"And how many of them came back?" I snap, remembering red hair. Ballerina slippers. Knowing green eyes.

I feel both men flinch beside me.

"That was different." rumbles Bucky from the far end of the table.

That wound is too fresh, too deep.

"Don't." I retort. "My best friend didn't die just for us to use that goddamn machine like a toy." Of course, we all know who I'm talking about. Plus, Yelena will kick both of their asses if she hears about this, which makes me wonder if that's why she isn't included in this mission.

"Not us," Sam quips.

"What was that?"

"Not "us"," Sam repeats again, voice loud and clear the second time. "Just you."

"Absolutely not." Bucky interrupts, sitting up and fixating Sam with a glare harboring the force of a thousand suns.

Sam ignores Bucky, taking a seat across from me, "I can't go, things are still too tender for me to just disappear for days on end. They'll appoint a new Captain America and storm in to put us all in prison again if they think we're weak," he goes on, taking a gentle hold of my other arm extended across the table.

"Bucky would get recognized by someone within minutes, it's too complicated." Sam continues.

"Sam," Bucky warns from the other end of the room.

"You're our only option." Sam finishes with another sigh. He did that a lot lately, I noted.

"It's not happening. Y/n, tell him you're not going to do it." Bucky's authoritative voice echoes around the conference room. A sense of urgency I can't begin to analyze is there too.

I contemplate.

"Y/N." Bucky speaks again, something that was beginning to get on my nerves.

"How dangerous is this equipment again?" I ask Sam, ignoring the forceful sigh from the other end of the room. I didn't care what Bucky thought about me in that moment. Who was he to choose for me, anyway?

"I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't serious." Sam affirms. I know this too, Sam is above all things reliable.

"Well, let's see," I pretend to draw a score board in the air with my finger, "In the event of my death, my family will be heavily compensated. That's one." I shrug.

Bucky's chair scrapes against the floor as he crosses the room to where Sam and I are sitting. "Tell me you're not actually considering this."

Under different circumstances I would have believed that he was pleading.

"I've got nothing to do this week and no one waiting for me at home. Two and three," I drop two more points in the imaginary "pros" side of the board.

"Guess I'm in." I flash Sam my signature grin, one he did not return.

"Y/N, No." Bucky orders.

"No one's talking to you!" I snap, whipping my head around to face him directly for the first time today.

He had let a strong stubble grow over the weekend and now looked disheveled on the whole - I quickly push away thoughts of him waking from nightmares, alone and shivering, too stubborn to call me.

His gorgeous blue eyes widen and freeze over as he takes a step toward me.

"Are you doing this to get back at me?"

"Not everything's about you, Barnes." I say, "Sam, I'm in. Let's fuckin' do this."

--

Let me know what you think & if you want pt2 with 40s Bucky :)

[hwallazia]

SOOTHE ME, SUGAR – 최산

synopsis . in which san pampers his girlfriend when it’s that time of the month for her.

pairing . choi san & fem! reader

genre . fluff, fluff, and fluff (you’ve been warned), comfort, slice of life, established relationship, non idol!au

taglist . @bro-atz | apply to join my taglist ♡

word count . 1,5k

DISCLAIMER! blood (ofc since we’re talking abt menstruation), nicknames (princess, love, sannie & more), very relatable (ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ)

NIC’S NOTES lowercase is intentional! (wrote it at 1:00am, half asleep (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)) also! i recommend listening to ocean eyes by billie eilish and love songs by kaash paige while reading this. yk, for the vibe ;)

“sannieee”

you moaned from your bed, wrapped in the sheets like a burrito, your knees knocking against your chest in search of some kind of relief. your belly generated pressure throughout your lower area that became more unbearable as the minutes passed, which seemed to be hours. fortunately, san knows how to act in the most docile way in these cases.

as soon as you finished college, you and san decided to live together without having the slightest idea of how challenging, exciting, and companionable that process would be. both of you, although you were in a relationship before living together, had to know, respect, and get used to each other’s home habits, since it would be something you would live with for a long time.

it was somewhat difficult to understand san’s attitudes, which varied depending on his momentary needs, how tired he was, and other factors that affected his behavior in the apartment. but with a lot of patience and love, you managed to understand at least the basics of what you should know about the topic: “choi san and home.” the path you had to take to know the person “choi san” in its entirety was a long one and one that you were willing to walk until the end of your days if necessary.

there was no shortage of discussions; there were many that were needed to be able to understand aspects of both him and you. when faced with an argument, san, first of all, would dedicate himself to listening to what you have to say, he would pay all of his attention to listening to your sentimental and very expressive arguments. once you’re done, he’d continue saying his and finally give a solution to the problem that divides you and wait for your excellent approval.

despite being very understanding and collected in discussions, san hates them with all his being; although he’s a tall man with a strong body, his heart is still soft and as delicate as glass. he hates that a simple disagreement of opinions causes a division with you, the person he loves the most, respects, and for whom he would give his life.

but he knows how to suppress his discontent very well in the face of absurd discussions for which you don’t speak to each other for hours, and even absurder when it’s that time of the month for you. he knows how much your feelings are weakened, how sore you feel throughout that week, in which your need for attention and affection doubles up.

san remembers with affection and laughs that month in which he found you crying in your bed, wrapped in his blankets scented with his essence, because the stuffed animal that you had given him, shiber, had fallen off the bed and, he quotes, “he looked at me very sadly from the ground” and he felt his heart skip a few beats inside his ribcage when a pout formed on your lips at how funny he found the situation. you never seemed so cute to him as you did at that moment.

and the moment san hears your voice whine his name from his room, the mental image was projected in his head without him asking for it or thinking deeply: “you, covered in dark blankets up to your nose with an exaggerated amount of pillows giving you comfort staring at him with pleading eyes as soon as he entered the room.” he couldn’t help but smile fondly.

“coming, love” he says, a few steps away from the room. thanks to his long legs, with four steps he gets there immediately, gently and respectfully hitting his knuckles against the dark oak door. the muffled ‘come innn’ you say with little strength was the permission he needed to turn the handle.

a sweet hum coming from san echoes through the room as he finds you under the exact same conditions that his mind, infected with you, had outlined. he doesn’t wait for you to say another word and he sits on the edge of the bed, watching you with so much love that he could never express verbally.

“how are you feeling?” he simply asks, without being so insistent or trying to bombard you with questions, thus avoiding causing you any annoyance. you have enough of what you were dealing with now.

“awful. the pressure down there has become unbearable, and now i don’t feel my legs.” you stopped for a moment to analyze your reality and the poor physical condition you were in. “i feel dizzy, kind of hungry and numb. but not like emotionally numb, because i wanna cry so badly but i can’t get anything out of my eyes.”

your hands go up to your eyes, under the sheets, covering them in frustration. “fuck, i hate this so much.”

san finally starts talking, soothing you with his honey-dripping voice. “shh, princess. one breath at a time. come on” he brings his palms, which were facing the ceiling, and rests them on your stomach, implicitly indicating that you hold his hands.

breath in and out, in and out. you stay like that for about thirty seconds, maintaining eye contact, his eyes conveying nothing but love and comfort to you. “thaat’s it. perfect.” he praises you, giving you the purest smile known to men, which does nothing but wrinkle your heart a little with tenderness.

“do you still have enough sanitary napkins and tampons?”

you appreciate and appreciated, from the first beginning, in which san became excellently familiar with all the technical vocabulary characteristic of this week that was so painful for both you and san. “no, but-”

he interrupts you and asks again “you want me to go get you some more in the supermarket? maybe some chocolate as well?” it seemed so sweet to you how generous and helpful he was to you when this time of the month came around.

“not really.” you pause briefly, squinting your eyes in search of the perfect plan that would calm, at least for a few hours, your impressive menstrual pain. until the right idea hits your head. “honestly, i just wanna cuddle here, with you.”

another sugary hum is audible. “if that’s what my princess wants, then that’s what she gets.” he sentences as if he was a soldier of a castle in which you are the queen of the “choi san’s heart” kingdom and san is nothing more than your faithful and most beloved servant. he leans towards you to place a fond kiss on your warm forehead, saturated with pain.

you shift in place, moving to the right so that san joins you from the left. ss soon as both of you are already warmly covered by the sheets, smeared with the smell of floral essences, your hand is quick to locate the remote control, pointing it in front of you to turn on the television and immediately go to the netflix app.

while your fingers insistently press the control buttons in search of a movie that meets the common cinematographic interests of both of you, san’s hand is agile in sneaking into your shirt —well, san’s— and cupping your waist in his palm, his fingers tracing scribbles on your skin, calming the pain, the tension and your mind. the magic that san has between his fingers and how they affect you is a divine mystery that would require his own science and study method.

“sannie” you pronounce his name in a faint whisper, disconnecting your eyes from the big screen to focus on the perfect face of your perfect boyfriend, totally forgeting the movie and focusing in his ethereal details.

“yes, darling?” he drones, looking at you adoringly. he truly couldn’t believe how you, an angel fallen from heaven, could be his and only his. and that you decide to stay by his side until the end of your days was the most genuine and beautiful demonstration that any lover has ever given him. definitely, you are different and san would risk it all for you. of course he would.

“thanks for everything. for understanding me and being able to be that mountain on which i can rest when i’m exhausted.” you say, truly meaning every single one of your words. “thank you for being you and for choosing me.”

san’s heart is reciting all the existing love songs to yours. his heart is yours and yours alone, giving itself fully to your love, and yours is the sun that warms his soul, casting golden rays of affection that dance across the canvas of his heart, painting it in hues of devotion.

“no, princess, you have nothing to thank me for.” he stops for a moment. “i’m the one who should thank you; for allowing me to be your boyfriend and please you, for being so patient with me. i know that i’m not an easy person to understand, and the fact that you voluntarily decide to stay here with me only makes me fall in love with you even more; even when i think i can’t love you more than i already do.” san confesses and, in just a matter of seconds, he manages to observe in close-up how in your precious irises tears start to well up in your eyes, causing him to let out a soft giggle, finding it cute. “why are you crying, sweetheart?”

you sniffed. “because you’re just too sweet to me and it makes me emotional. you really are the best boyfriend in the world, choi san.”

“oh baby.” he hugged your anatomy between his strong arms as he laughed softly, giving you a warmth and security unique in the world. “i love you, yn. “so much.”

| masterlist

[readychilledwine]

Hi, I have a fic idea. So Beron has somehow found out that Eris is scheming against him but Beron just doesn't know what Eris' plan is. So the reader is basically told by Beron to get close to Eris to find out his plan. But as time passes by, Reader falls for Eris and can't bring herself to tell Eris' plan to Beron in the court room but Eris over hears the their conversation and confronts the reader. He also asks her why didnt she snitch on him so the reader tells him that she loves him too much to do that. Then reader is attacked by Beron's soldiers or you can end it however you like. If you don't wanna write it, then it's okay but just let me know what you think of it🥺.

I think this is amazing and a twist on what we normally see for this storyline idea.

Tainted Love

Warnings - torture. Beron, cliffhanger. Angst and anger. Betrayal.

"Do you want to tell me why I caught you with my father tonight or do you want me to find out on my own?"

You took a deep breath, looking to the ceiling for strength. It had already been a hard day dealing with Beron. The last thing you wanted to be doing was dealing with an angry Eris now, too.

"Can we talk about it in the morning, please? I just want to enjoy dinner."

Eris looked at you as if you had grown a second head. "Tell now, or I will let Azriel tell me why he sent me there."

You had to hold back your eye roll at the mention of the shadowsinger. Since Eris pulled you into his bargain with Rhysand, a shadow has trailed you. Following you and relaying your every move to the Inner Circle and Eris.

It was fair at first. You knew that deep down inside. You were one of Beron's more talented spies, used for situations where the males just weren't enough.

You were soft, gentle, beautiful. It was easy for people to open up to you, and that was why Beron had picked you for this over his other options.

He knew Eris was plotting and playing against him. He's known for years. He just needed to figure out how.

That was where you came in. Eris has an eye for you since the two of you were children. He had loved you since you were teens. Now, as adults, Eris was absolutely in love with you. He loved you from the soles of your feet to the soft curl of your hair and every flaw in-between.

You, having never known love or safety, had walls he'd been trying to take down the second you began approaching him on Beron's command. You have naively expected his efforts to fail, but one night as you two danced in his kitchen, you realized they hadn't.

You were helplessly in love with Eris.

And your mission had changed.

You had started giving Beron information while also exposing fae in the court Eris needed taken out.

The master of coin? You caught him steal from under Beron and Eris's noses, in a ploy of his own to wipe out the family as a whole. You watched him burned by your High Lord the second that information was tortured from him.

His second general, the one Eris hated, you turned in for hiding tithes and embezzling from his territory. He was given a traitors death, sent to the forest to become one with the trees, ripped down flesh and all by their roots.

Beron had caught on, though. Each interrogation proved each fae you turned in was not working with Eris, nor aware of his plan.

You could still feel his hand below your dress, resting in your ribcage just above your heart. He was on to you, and if you weren't smarter, you too might meet that dungeon and those trees.

Eris cleared his throat and brought you back to him. "Don't make me ask again, little fox. Please just tell me the truth."

You set everything down and stepped away from the table, ensuring there was space between you two. "Beron knows you're working against him," Eris's face dropped before schooling. "He's known for awhile."

"For how long?"

You looked up, tears starting to fall as you realized this would be the end.

The second you told him, there were no more nights in his arms. No more shared kisses. No more hushed I love yous.

But telling him put him another step ahead of Beron. You had already launched him impossibly ahead. Beron would only figure out his plan when it was too late, when Eris had already made that final move and Death reached a cool hand out to take Beron.

"Since after the war with Hybern. He found a letter from the shadowsinger in your office. He had another of his spies decode it."

Eris nodded, processing everything slowly before standing himself. "And how, y/n, do you know all of this?"

"He told me when he asked me to get close to you and figure out your plan."

The confession was a hanging. Eris stood there nodding before taking his whiskey in his hand and downing it. "So all of this wasn't real. All the nights whispering about our dreams? All the plans we made? This all meant nothing to you?"

"You mean everything to me," your voice broke. "At first, yes, I was doing my job. But I fell in love with you when I saw who you were. When I realized who you wanted to be to this Court. To our home. I never told him anything. I've been distracting him with information regarding males you wanted taken out anyways."

Eris shook his head, his own tears beginning to fall. "I don't believe you. I loved you. I fucking loved you and you did this to me? To us? Even if you were telling me the truth, how am I ever supposed to trust you now? How can I trust you to rule at my side?"

No answer came from you. You stared towards your boots in shame. "Azriel can tell you everything that was discussed. I know you all have a shadow trailing m-"

"Because Rhysand didn't fucking trust you!" Eris broke down into anger. All formality has left him as he pulled at his short hair and paced the dining room of your small home. "Rhysand did not trust you and I should have never trusted you either."

You watched as he grabbed his jacket, "I am done. Do not follow me. Do not come find me. When Beron is gone, you will leave this court or I will have you killed. Your choice."

You couldn't help but to look up, tears falling and stinging your face. "Eris, please, I love you."

He paused momentarily, resting his head on the doorway. "I wish I could believe that, y/n. I love you more than anything, I always have, and I probably always will. But you lied. You played me."

"I did my job so he wouldn't kill me," you turned away from him, having thought he of all fae would have understood.

"Maybe it would have been better off if he had." Eris left, slamming the door behind him.

The news of your breakup hit the courts quickly, too quickly for you to pack and leave.

Which is why you found yourself tied to a whipping post in Beron's private dungeon. He had sent some of his men for you, allowing them to best you before dragging your unconscious body here."Turns out your cunt isn't as powerful as you think it is, is it dear y/n?"

You didn't respond, knowing that would only make day 3 of this torture worse. "You had one job, and you failed me." You felt Beron's hand trail your back before grabbing the collar of your dress and ripping it down to bodice. "Such a shame, too. I find you absolutely exquisite. Maybe my son just has higher standards or different tastes than I do."

You didn't have time to prepare as the first lashing came, ripping your skin open and causing your mouth to fall open in shock. "How many do you think you deserve, y/n? Not only did you fail me. You also allowed him to bed you, losing all power and worth you may have thought you had to me, and what little information you did give me, while useful, never gave us an answer on my son's impeding betrayal." Another lashing had you crying out, body leaning against the pull as the cuts overlapped and merged together.

Beron ran his hand up your back again, knee digging into your spine as he pushed you into the whipping pole and put your hair up into a bun. "Do not fret, little doll. I won't leave marks where anyone besides me will be able to enjoy them if you survive."

You lost count of his strikes after 20. You couldn't even respond anymore to them. You felt Beron's chest against your back as he untied you, allowing you to fall to the ground, body too broke to hold itself up.

He left you there bleeding on the dirt, unable to move to clean the deep wounds or even take a proper breath.

The last thing you remembered seeing was a flash of wings and red hair, rushing to you as the world faded to black.

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager