#icy scans

[lionfloss]

source

[netsurfer1001]

(*´_⊃｀)人(´⊂_｀*)thought you would enjoy this!!

In the movie 27 Dresses, there is a scene where the main characters are scanning items into a wedding registry. This scene contains a very special cameo featuring our good friend 🧊i-CY the iPenguin!!🤖🐧

This store has many on display incorrectly labeled as beeswax candle rods. Oops!

(゜▽゜*)

[crowcountrie]

can’t change what you’ve done

start fresh next semester

meet band and nills, my ocs based on tøp <3

[yuujispinkhair]

Tribe leader/Viking Sukuna headcanons

After seeing this fanart, a sweet anon sent me this prompt: "Imagine that you are a simple girl in another tribe who attracted the leader Sukuna who at that moment came to negotiate with the leader of your tribe, he became interested in you and decided to make you his wife and cooperate with your people. So you left with him and began to live with him and give birth to his heirs."

Thank you so much for sending me this! When I saw the art, I was thinking of something along those lines, too! The picture reminded me of the tv show Vikings, so the following headcanons take place in that time.

Pairing: Viking!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Smut + fluff Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, arranged/forced marriage, virginity loss, blood, breeding, pregnancy, slight lactation kink, having children, miscarriage (Sukuna comforts reader afterwards. He doesn't just want her because of the heirs she can give him), general mentions of violence and human sacrifices. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared for his ruthlessness in battle and his strength that seems almost god-like. All the other tribes try to stay on his good side and forge alliances with him instead of giving him a reason to burn down their towns.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who looks so intimidating when he comes to visit your settlement. Tall and broad-shouldered with all those buff muscles on display and the bones of his enemies decorating his clothes.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you can't take your eyes off when you and the rest of your tribe gather in your leader's throne room and watch the negotiations. He sends shivers down your spine, but not just in a fear-inducing way, if you are honest. He is so enticing. Powerful and intelligent, and so attractive.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a beautiful man. His face is too pretty for a warrior. Not even his scars and tribal tattoos can hide his beauty. A smug smirk lifts the corners of his lips, and his voice is calm and confident. He moves gracefully like a big cat, beautiful but deadly. He is the most stunning man you have ever seen, and you hang on every word that falls from his lips as if he carries ancient magic in his voice.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose icy blue eyes scan the crowd slowly, glittering like two precious jewels in the firelight illuminating the crowded room. Your breath catches in your throat when that intense gaze lands on you. You feel like a small animal trapped in the gaze of its hunter. Should you lower your head to show him your respect? Or will he take affront if you dare to look at anything else but him?

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes the decision away from you when he smirks at you and laughs softly before he turns his attention back to your leader.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who announces his conditions for a peace treaty in a confident, demanding tone. The voice of a man who is used to getting what he wants. A man who knows he is too powerful to get turned down.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who suddenly points a long tattoed finger at you and speaks the words that will flip your whole world upside down, "And I want her."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your heart drop with his demand, but all you can do is stare at him in a mix of fear and excitement. A murmur runs through the crowd, and already, several hands are pressing against your back, shoving you towards Sukuna, making you stumble and screech as you are about to fall at his feet.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who catches you before you hit the ground, his muscular arms holding you easily, an amused smirk lighting up his handsome face, light blue eyes glittering in amusement as he drawls teasingly, "Aww, someone's eager to become my little wife, huh?"

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you sit on his lap that evening when a big feast is held in his honor and to seal the peace treaty with your tribe. You barely dare breathe, full of fear as you sit on his strong, muscled thighs, gasping when one of his large hands wanders under your skirt to squeeze your thigh possessively.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has two of his men stand guard in front of your door so no one will attack his future wife or maybe to prevent you from sneaking away. But you aren't even sure you want to run from him. Who are you here in your current tribe anyway? Just another orphan who grew up to help on one of the farms. Isn't this new role much more important? To be the bride of Ryomen Sukuna? To be a means that allows your tribe to prosper and ensures peace and trade with Sukuna?

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large hand has a firm, unrelenting grip on your arm as he leads you to his horse the next morning. But he lets you say goodbye to all your loved ones, taking their blessings and well wishes with you before your future husband helps you onto his horse.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a rough man, but whose hands are surprisingly gentle when he lifts you onto the back of his giant horse. He sits behind you, his firm muscles pressing against your back, rippling with every move he makes. His muscular buff arms cage you in, keeping you captive or keeping you safe. You can't tell which one of the two it is.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes a conflict rage in your chest. On the one hand, you are scared of this dangerous big man who has the power to just demand to have you as if you are some cattle. On the other hand, you can't deny that small hidden part of you that feels excited that such a powerful and attractive man desires you enough to want to make you his wife.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your pulse flutter nervously when you feel his strong arms around you and hear him order his men around with his low, velvety voice, telling them to find a good resting place for the night.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses you roughly on that first night. His large hands that cup your face are calloused, but his lips are warm, and his tongue is soft and so skilled when he pries your mouth open and licks into it. It's nothing like the shy, clumsy kisses you shared with the boys in your settlement. Sukuna is a feared warrior, a powerful tribe leader, someone who people believe is actually the son of a god. And you can feel all that in his kiss. Deep and intense, making your head spin and your body brim with a desire you have never felt before.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rides with you again the next day and trails teasing kisses down your neck to pass the time during the long ride. You are sure he is fully aware of what he is doing to you. How he makes your heart race and makes a mix of fear and arousal throb in your veins. Especially when he grabs your chin to tilt your face up and capture your lips in a heated, wet kiss, licking unashamedly into your mouth in front of his men, showing everyone that you are his.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who whispers in your ear, "Are you scared of me, my little wife?" and then breaks out in loud, barking laughter when you exhale shakily and tell him, "Only a fool wouldn't be scared of you... but maybe I am also flattered that you picked me, my lord."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who still chuckles while his tongue licks a lazy stripe up the side of your neck, and he huskily tells you, "I am not a lord. I am a god. And I saw a goddess right there in that shabby throne room. I had to take you with me. It was a sign from the gods. You will give me such strong and beautiful children. Together, we can conquer the whole world."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who forces himself to keep his hands off you before your wedding night as a show of respect to the gods, but who lets you feel his desire for you when he hugs you from behind and presses his hardness against you once you have moved into his house.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has you dressed in the finest garments for your wedding day. A beautiful red dress lined with gorgeous white ermine fur that was specifically made for you. Your neck, wrists, and ears are decorated with glittering gold and precious gemstones.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you squeal when he swoops you up into his muscular arms and carries you into the ceremony hall, accompanied by the loud cheers of his people. Your hand is shaking when you exchange wedding rings with him, but you stay brave, speaking your vows and taking Sukuna's heavy sword when he offers it to you as his promise to protect you.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who sacrifices several of his enemies to the gods to ask for their blessings for your marriage and your fertility. He looks scary with the pattern painted onto his face with fresh blood. But at the same time, it makes him look feral in a way that makes an unknown heat throb between your legs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shares his food and mead with you on the decadent feast held after the wedding ceremony, where you sit on the throne next to his. One of his strong arms stays wrapped around your waist the whole evening, and the deep glances he sends your way make your skin tingle with anticipation.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes your virginity that night, making you cry out in pain when his thick cock splits you open for the first time. But his lips silence your cry, and soon you make other noises. Loud moans of pleasure fall from your lips as your new husband moves inside you with deep and sure thrusts that hit a spot inside you that makes you scratch the broad muscles of his back and arch up against Sukuna's huge body. Your cunt throbs around his cock as you find the sweetest and most intense release you ever had.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who afterward pushes two of his long fingers into your used cunt to push his seed back into you, leaning down to kiss you savagely and murmuring in your ear that he wants to see your belly hard and swollen with his heirs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who paints his clan symbols on your face with a mix of your virginal blood and his cum, telling you that you are his forever and that you are blessed by the gods now too after taking his seed into you.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is so proud when you show the first signs of pregnancy.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who becomes extremely protective and possessive now that you carry his heir. Who worships your body every night, cupping and kissing your swollen breasts, licking at the drops of milk that already spill from them, telling you it tastes like the nectar of the gods.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large rough hands caress your swollen belly gently, who kisses it, and talks to your unborn child, telling his son, as he predicts, that he will be born under the blessing of the gods. That he will become a great leader and a god himself one day.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is triumphant when your first child is a boy with pink hair and a strong build and loud voice. A future leader just like his father. The first heir of many more to follow.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared by everyone but treats his wife and newborn child with a gentleness that surprises you. He asks you to let him hold your baby and carry him in his strong arms. And the way Sukuna looks at your child tells you that he doesn't just see little Yuuji as an heir but as someone who has Sukuna's heart.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose hungry and proud gaze follows you for days until he has you under him again, fucking you with hard, deep thrusts, moaning loudly, and pumping you full of his seed over and over again. "You gave me such a strong heir, my love. I know you'll give me so many more."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rushes to your side when you have a miscarriage during your second pregnancy. Who hugs you to his broad chest, wipes the sweat and blood off you, and cradles you in his arms.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses your tears away and reassures you when you are scared he will kick you out if you won't give him more heirs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shakes his head and tells you, "I mourn our unborn child, but I thank the gods for not taking my beloved wife away from me too. You are more to me than just a vessel that gives birth to my heirs. You are my wife, my companion, the one who the gods sent to me as my soulmate. I love you. Even if we have no more children, I will never take a new wife."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you see in a new light after the reassurance and love he gave you on that day. And suddenly, you find yourself falling in love with your husband, too. You treat him more tenderly. You caress his soft hair when the two of you cuddle in your bed to keep each other warm. You kiss the tattoos on his face and smile at him, your heart fluttering when Sukuna smiles back at you and pulls you into a slow, tender kiss. You will never forget the happiness in his eyes when you tell him you love him too.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who fucks you thoroughly that night until the two of you are sweating and rolling around on top of the warm furs, kissing and caressing each other needily while he fills you with his hot seed until you are overflowing from it.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is delighted when you give birth to your second child, and that child looks like the perfect mix of the two of you. He grins at you and tells you that this is clearly a child of love, conceived on the night you confessed your love to him.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is actually a caring husband who truly treasures you. Who likes to spend his nights with you wrapped under the warm furs, making slow love while he kisses you deeply, rolling his hips with those slow, languid moves that make you sob his name and come undone so sweetly on his cock. 

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who likes to hold you in his strong arms afterward, with your head resting on his broad chest and your small fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest and abs. He loves to talk to you for hours every night, telling you all about his day, about his current worries and plans, about political things and battle tactics, trusting you with all his secrets.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose love fills you with warmth even on the coldest winter days. Your heart is held securely in his strong hands. And you know that no one will dare lay a hand on you or your children in fear of Sukuna's wrath. His strength and power make you feel safe here in your new home.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who teaches you how to enjoy sex to the fullest. Who teaches you how to ride his cock and his face. Who teaches you how to take from him too. Because he is your husband, and that means he belongs to you just as much as you belong to him.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who trusts you with ruling in his place during his absence. Who declares that anyone who disrespects you will get sacrificed to the gods.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who keeps you on his thick, strong cock all night before he has to leave for one of his various exploration trips or battles, savoring you to the fullest. Making sure to fuck you so good that you will still feel him for days after he set sail.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who pulls you into his arms one last time before he boards the ship, kissing you deep and long. And there is this burning love in his blue gaze when he tells you, "I will do anything in my power to come back to you, my love. I have the gods on my side. But if, for whatever reason, they should decide it is my time to enter Valhalla, then I want you to know that I will wait there until you join the afterlife, too, and I will come find you, no matter where you are."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who luckily doesn't go to Valhalla and always comes back to you with more scars on his gorgeous body but with the same love in his eyes.

AAAHHH I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM!!! This became much longer than I intended, but I really miss the show Vikings, and I love Viking!Sukuna to an insane amount, so it is what it is ;) This was, once again, very self-indulgent, but hopefully, some of my fellow Sukuna lovers will enjoy it too! Thank you so much to the nice anon who sent me that prompt!

Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

[illyrianbitch]

An Education in Malice

Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel

Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, rough, angry, hate sex basically. sexual degradation (name calling), p in v penetration, sex in da woods, bickering and insults, inner circle slander

Word Count: 6.6k

a/n: i know technically we wouldnt be a princess... but we r a high lord family so were running with it for the sexual tension. also dedicated to my soulmate and the brilliant babe, @itsswritten who told me to write sumthin smutty like this. thank her 🫡

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

“Hello, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched at the sound. 

He’d almost forgotten how grating your voice was to his ears, how it made his body tense with an emotion he could never quite describe. He turned around slowly, taking you in where you stood leaning casually against a tree. 

The dress you wore was reminiscent of autumn court elegance, fabric cascading around you in rich hues of crimson, gold, and amber, like the vibrant foliage of the season brought to life, sleeves like flickering flames. There was a sense of wrongness in seeing such an elegant form amidst the wild, your commanding presence even more striking than that of your other family members. If he didn't know who you were, he would have been tempted to describe you as something of unparalleled beauty, a vision amidst a forest of wilderness.

But Azriel knew who you were. He knew what you were. 

He had noticed the similarities between you and your brothers quickly, from your mannerisms down to the curve of your lips. You and Eris shared the same snarky smirk– a smirk Az wanted to wipe clean off your faces. You were using it now, holding his gaze with the corners of your lips upturned and amused eyes. 

“You look thrilled to see me,” you said. 

Az did nothing to hide his disdain as he narrowed his eyes at you. “Where is your brother?” 

“Busy,” you responded, absentmindedly running the tips of your fingers along the tree you leaned on. You took a moment to observe the bark before you turned to face Azriel again, a small taunting smile on your lips once more. “I’ll let him know you missed him.”

Azriel held your gaze for a moment, a tick in his jaw as he let out a short exhale. Then, he was turning around to leave, a clear dismissal. A small flicker of anger rose in your body. Quickly, you winnowed in front of him, your sudden appearance setting his shadows into a frenzied dance around him, coalescing into a swirling mass around his neck like a collar of live snakes ready to strike. 

“Don’t be rude,” you said, “I’m here on Eris’ behalf. Give me information to report back to him.”

“Nothing to report,” Azriel said, voice flat. He stared at you for a moment, eyes scanning you. And then he was making another notion to leave, brushing past you with a small shove to your shoulder. You nearly laughed at the action, at how easy he was becoming to rile up— at how much your presence bothered him. 

“You don’t want to stay and chat?” You said over your shoulder. A flutter of triumph spread in your chest when you heard his footsteps come to a halt. You turned to face him, his back still to you, shadows swirling around his body like black flames. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.”

Azriel turned to face you, a small scowl on his beautiful features. “Not long enough.”

You laughed, the sound stroking his body in a way that sent shivers down his spine. You let out a sigh.

“I get bored in Autumn sometimes, you know?”

Briefly, something flickered in Azriel’s hazel eyes, but it faded faster than you could decipher what it meant or where it came from. He titled his head slightly, eyes taking you in fully.

“Not enough cruelty for you?”

“Something like that.”

You both held each other's stares, his icy gaze against your fiery one. He lifted his chin slightly, rolling his shoulders as if to straighten his already stiff posture. You didn’t miss the way his wings extended slightly from their tucked in position, just enough to stand as a warning, as a reminder of who he was— what he was. 

“This is a waste of my time.”

Yet, Azriel made no move to leave— not this time. 

“Because you have such important matters to return to?” You asked with a raised brow, “You said it yourself, nothing to report. So, are there some damsels in distress to be saved? Something to make you feel important?”

You made sure to pay extra attention to when you mocked his previous words, tone dropping slightly deeper to imitate his. Azriel’s eyes narrowed even more, a dark wave of evident anger washing through his face, nostrils flared, jaw clenched. You bit the inside of your cheek to contain your grin. 

You were playing with something dangerous, this you knew. But Azriel was so fun to rile up, so easy to. You understood, now, why your brother seemed to enjoy these meetings so much. You’d assumed Eris was some sort of masochist, somehow finding pleasure in the necessity of being allies with the Night Court, the same people who so commonly disregarded you and your family as evil and cruel— although, they were right to a certain extent. But perhaps Eris had found some sort of entertainment with this affair. 

“Stop talking,” was Azriel’s only reply. 

“Why?”

He took a step forward. You made sure to stay still, to hold his gaze as he peered down at you. 

“Because you’re trying to get a rise out of me,” Azriel responded, his voice cool, “and it will not work.”

“Oh please,” you scoffed. “Play the unphased act all you’d like, we both know its bullshit.”

He said nothing in response, his eyes remaining locked on yours. Azriel’s stare was harder now, colder. A clear warning was written in his features, carved out between his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes: do not fuck with me. 

But you welcomed the challenge. If he wasn’t going to admit it, you were more than willing to prove your point. 

“You put my brother in a chokehold in a public meeting. You have no self-control. You’re just constantly one spark away from igniting.”

Azriel growled. “Your brother deserved it.”

You raised your brow in a small taunt. 

“Because he called your precious Morrigan a slut?”

Whether Azriel wanted to admit it or not, you were very easily tearing at his resolve. He moved quickly, his hand naturally falling to the dagger at his hip. Shadows moved closer to you, but with a swift movement of your fingers, they were met with the spark of a small flame, quickly retracting back into their mass form near Azriel’s shoulders. You winnowed back to your original place, back against the rough tree bark. 

“Careful, Shadowsinger,” you sneered, “You’re forgetting your manners.You didn’t even let me finish.”

Azriel wore a clear scowl now, brows furrowed as he held your gaze from afar, hand still on his weapon. There was something deadly about the way you made him feel, the intensity of those feelings far surpassing any hatred he held for your brothers– Eris, specifically. In truth, the more time Az spent near Lucien, the more he saw him as someone good– and the less similarities he seemed to bear with you, his conniving snake of a sister. You opened your mouth to taunt him once more.

“I don’t agree with my brother,” you said, “Hell, I admire Morrigan for her freedom. I do love a pretty dress. So, I would have called her something else… a liar, perhaps?”

Those words were all it took to light Azriel’s fuse.

Within a blink, he was in front of you, the cold steel of a dagger, Truth-Teller you presumed, pressed against your neck. His wings flared out angrily behind him. Shadows surged around you, a suffocating darkness descending like a shroud, swallowing the sunlight and leaving only a void of darkness. You stared into Azriel's eyes— cold, and angry.

"Shut up," he snarled.

For a moment, a sense of fear flickered deep in your stomach, but you swallowed it down, the flame diminishing before it could properly ignite. Even as his shadows threatened to consume you both whole, you refused to back down, meeting Azriel's gaze with a defiant stare of your own. And then, you grinned. A cruel, wicked gesture that made his blood boil.

“Nice to see you perform without an audience, too.”

Azriel's voice was laden with disdain as he responded, words dripping with venom. "You and your brother are exactly the same."

But instead of flinching at the accusation, you maintained your smirk, unfazed by the blade pressed against your neck. "Which brother? I have quite a few," you countered, your tone teasing, almost playful.

Azriel's grip tightened, images of your family conjuring in his mind. Az could barely remember the names of your other brothers, their features blurring into a blurry mess of fiery auburn and copper. Instead, his mind focused on you– the female before him, under his grip and his dagger, standing next to the two males he despised for different reasons. 

“You can decide,” Azriel finally said, “they’re all equally terrible.”

“I’d say Lucien is a good male,” you laughed bitterly, “I’m willing to bet your sweet Elain would agree.”

A surge of fury rose within him, a deep primal instinct to lash out and silence your taunts once and for all. But even as he bristled with anger, he realized you were right.

He was constantly teetering on the edge, one step away from losing control. It had gotten worse recently, watching everyone around him find their place, their people; Elain growing closer to Lucien, his brothers spending time with their mates. Azriel was frustrated. He was angry. You’d done exactly what he told you wouldn’t happen– gotten a rise out of him. He hated it, hated you, hated himself even more.

Azriel took a deep breath, your heated gaze still on him, eyes narrowed, a small smirk on your lips that he filled him with a burning anger. It wasn’t as if he could kill you, no, he couldn’t even really hurt you. One mark on the Vanserra’s youngest and only daughter would be a mark for war. This was a battle Az couldn't win, indulging your provocations for the mere sake of your entertainment. He needed to calm down. Regain control. 

The shadows around you began to recede and sunlight filtered back into the clearing as Azriel  pushed you away with a snarl. You leaned your head back against the tree as you took a deep breath.

He studied you for a moment before saying,  "You'd think someone as pretentious as you wouldn't need to rely on irritating someone for an ounce of attention." 

There was a subtle shift in your demeanor—a swallowed response, a flicker of vulnerability. His gaze followed the movement down to the column of your throat.

“Pretentious?” 

You gave a bitter laugh.

"Yes, pretentious. All of you Vanserras," Azriel retorted with a bitter edge, “Every single one.”

"That's ironic coming from you. You think we're pretentious?"

Azriel's gaze hardened. "Yes. Cruel, evil, and vile. You think you're better than all of us."

Your mouth widened as you scoffed. And then you let out a laugh of disbelief. 

"Oh my Gods, does it ever get tiring?" you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Wallowing in your own self-pity and then using it as a means to hate everyone outside of your incestuous little circle?"

"Do not speak of my family," Azriel snapped.

You smirked. “So you admit your family is incestuous?”

Azriel said nothing, a sudden realization that his anger, once again, had beat him to his rationality, somehow giving you another weapon to use against him.  He clenched his jaw, feeling a simmering heat building in his stomach. 

"You stand in front of me and pretend to be shocked when I call you for what you are?" he countered with a sneer, “Your family isn't quiet about their disdain for my family, for my kind, or for me."

You lifted your chin. “You don’t even like your own kind, Shadowsinger.” 

There was another flare of his nostrils and you knew that you’d gotten him once again. Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides, a sight lost to you as his shadows covered them. You continued as he stayed silent.

“I will admit, my family can be a bit narrow minded. Why would I hate you for the things you can’t control? Where's the fun in that?”   

Again, Azriel remained silent. He knew if he made a move, if he said a word, it would likely be something he regretted, something that would come back to bite him in the ass. 

"I don’t hate you because you’re from the Night Court, or an Illyrian, or a bastard, or whatever it is you tell yourself at night," you continued, your words like a dagger aimed at his pride. "I hate you because you are hot-headed and arrogant. You’ve held a grudge against Eris for something that wasn’t his fault and have utterly screwed Lucien to no end. Your little family is a disease.”

Azriel’s resolve was cracking. He didn’t have enough self-control for this, for you. He’d barely mustered up the diplomacy needed to meet with Eris. 

“Stop talking,” he said through gritted teeth. He felt it again, the flicker of frustration that threatened to engulf him like an unattended flame.

You gave him a withering glare. “Or what, you’ll make me?”

Azriel blinked, his eyes scanning your body instinctively. There was something about the words you spoke, the way you had spoken them, that made his body shiver. A small jolt of electricity passed through his muscles. Unfortunately for him, you caught it as quick as it manifested. Your eyes widened as you let out a dry laugh, forming a small smirk on your lips.

“Oh my gods,” you said, taking a step closer, “I bet you’d like that, wouldn't you? Is that why you’re such an ass today? 

Azriel’s wings twitched behind him. You gave him a mocking pout as you stared up at him. 

“No one to torture, no sweet female to make love to? Poor, powerful, Spymaster.”

Azriel thought for a moment. He thought about the anger boiling in his body, how on edge he’d been, how every little thing had been setting him off. He thought about you, in front of him, a female he despised from previous meetings– loud-mouthed, vicious, and selfish. A female from a family he hated, a family that took things from his family, from him. 

And then he began thinking of how great it would feel to show them how wrong they were about him. To prove to them that they weren’t better than him, that he was just as, if not more, powerful than their damned bloodline.

You had been right again. He was pent up. He hadn’t taken a lover recently, hadn’t fucked anyone since that one almost-night with Elain– where she’d been sweet, sensitive, and gentle. But even before, with the females who’d asked for it rough, told him they could handle it, he hadn’t indulged himself too far. He still respected them. They were still wide-eyed and kind, sweet to a certain extent. He didn’t want to hurt them. They were ladies. Azriel respected ladies. 

“I said stop talking,” Azriel growled. 

There was a tick in his jaw. 

“And I said, make me.”

But you, you weren’t a lady. You weren’t sensitive, sweet, or kind. You were a viper. A snake with beautiful lips and a body he found incredibly inviting— not that he’d ever admit it to anyone. But standing in front of him, that defiant look in your eyes, the pride seeping off you, the smirk on your lips… Azriel felt hungry. He felt ravenous. 

So, he thought for one more moment. And then he was taking a step forward, one that you matched with an equal stepback. 

“Y/n,” Azriel drawled as he continued to take another step. You matched him again, moving back while you glared at him. “Are you not getting enough attention? Is that it?”

Your back hit the tree and you let out a small exhale as Azriel took a final step forward, inches away from you as he stared down with a dark gaze. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You bit out. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You attempted to regulate your breathing as his eyes drank you in, a clear and unashamed desire painted over his face. 

“Do I look like a fucking mind-reader?”

 Azriel gave a dry chuckle. You were unraveling before him, scrambling for control. “Such a vile mouth for a princess.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that why you came?” He brought a hand to your chin, roughly tilting your face up to look directly at him. “Do you want to be fucked, Y/n?”

The answer was yes, you did. There was a sickening sense of excitement that ran through your blood, a heat pooling between your thighs. But you wouldn’t admit it. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction, weren’t about to prove him right. So instead you stayed quiet, pulling your face out of his hands and turning your cheek. 

“I came for intel,” you said through gritted teeth, “in Eris’ place.”

Azriel gave another chuckle, something dark and humorous. His hand trailed to the side of your neck, pushing the hair off your shoulders to expose the line of your collarbone. You swallowed.

“Interesting,” he said. He leaned in, lips against your ear. “Then what is that desire I smell?”

You let out a sharp exhale as he leaned away. Taking a deep breath, you looked at him, biting the inside of your cheek at your body's betrayal. You needed to balance this.

“Maybe its you that needs a good fuck, Shadowsinger. Like I said, you seem real pent up. Noone quite scratching that itch?”

But Azriel no longer seemed angry at your words, instead, he seemed amused– hungry. He was quiet for a second too long, simply staring at you. A sense of irritation prickled at your skin.

“What?” You snapped.

“I can admit that,” Azriel said coolly, “if you can admit something to me.”

“What, are we trading secrets now? I wasn’t aware this was a children's sleepover.”

Azriel didn’t respond. You registered the movement of a dark shadow as it fled from his body, slowly sneaking around your collarbone. You attempted to hit it away, but it quickly slithered back to Azriel, running up his chest to curl around his ear. He smirked. 

“When was the last time someone fucked you, Y/n?”

The air left your lungs as you let out a small gasp. You blinked. Quickly, you regained your composure.

“Excuse me?”

Azriel kept his smirk. “It must be hard getting anyone to touch you when you’re so sheltered by those males you call brothers.” 

He reached out a hand to your bare collarbone, but you caught his wrist in your hand, allowing it to hover in your grip. His eyes slowly trailed up to your face, heavy-lidded and darkened with a sense of attention that made your stomach clench. 

“What the hell are you getting at?” You sneered.

Azriel simply stared at you, the ghost of a smirk still plastered on his lips. His reactions had you gritting your teeth in anger and rubbing your thighs in anticipation at the same time— you hated it.

“Don’t ask questions you know the answers to.”

“You're pathetic,” you spat, “Save your games for a bitch who cares.”

But you still gripped his hand in yours, still felt the heat radiating off his skin. And you made no motion to move. No motion to let him pull back. Azriel didn’t fail to notice this, either. 

“That snarky mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble. But I bet that's why you use it, right?”

Your breathing was heavier now. Azriel’s gaze flickered to where you still gripped his wrist.

“You can fool everyone, Y/n,” he said, “But not me.”

You shouldn’t have enjoyed the way his voice sounded on your skin, shouldn’t have felt a breathlessness filling your body as he spoke to you. But you felt it. And it was a burning, hungry desire that made your chest tighten. This was what you wanted, it was what you needed. 

Azriel was right. The bastard had read you like a book. Your family, your brothers, never let anyone near you for fear of embarrassment– fear of you bringing some sense of shame. But Azriel was right. You wanted it. You craved it. You wanted to forget who you were, to give up the control you always had to wield. 

Before you could overthink it, you loosened your grip on Azriel’s hand and pulled it towards you, situating it on the side of your throat. You let out a small gasp when he quickly wrapped his fingers around the base of your neck. 

And then he was pulling you into him with a deep and angry kiss. All teeth, tongue, and fire, mouths crashing together almost painfully, but neither of you stopped. With every movement of his mouth, of his tongue on yours, a dormant flame deep within you awoke. 

A primal desire surged through Azriel’s veins like wildfire, the scent of you– of your want, of your desire– filling his senses in a way that had his cock throbbing. There was no room for rational thought, only the raw, unbridled passion that engulfed him in a fiery embrace. His hand found its way into your hair, fingers brushing along your scalp as he yanked your hair to expose your neck to him. His lips wandered to your exposed collarbone, giving a harsh suck to the skin near the column of your throat. 

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Shut up,” you responded, reaching your hands out to fumble with his leather clothes. Azriel pulled back slightly, grabbing your wandering hands in his. You let out a sound of protest as he ran sloppy kissing along your neck.

“Oh how i’d love to fuck that foul mouth of yours,” Azriel murmured against your skin, his mouth reaching your ear. “But we’re short on time.” He took your lobe in between his teeth and you let out a small groan.

“I bet all you’ll need is a few minutes– and that's being generous.”

Azriel’s hand gripped at your waist, traveling up your chest to roughly grab your breast through your dress. 

“No wonder you’re so insufferable.” he said, his voice amused as he pulled back, his other hand tugged at your hair once more. “You haven’t been fucked properly.”

You snarled. "Fuck you." 

Azriel grinned.

"Oh, princess, I will.”

And then he was pulling the front of your dress down, exposing your bare breasts before him, nipples peaked in the fresh air. You let out a gasp as a small faint ripping sound traveled to your ears. Before you had a chance to react, Azriel was spinning you around, pulling your back against his chest, one hand bracketing your throat as the other traveled down your stomach, grabbing at the fabric at your dress. 

"But first, you're going to beg me for it,” he breathed into your ear, his voice so low you felt it more than you heard it. His words traveled straight to your core, leaving you dripping with want. Yet, you refused to let the words leave your lips. You gritted your teeth, bristled at the suggestion— pride and defiance warring within you. 

“Like hell I will.”

Azriel made a sound of disapproval, his mouth still running along your ear, “No?” he asked, hand slowly trailing from your throat to your chest, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. “So you don’t want me to touch you?”

His hand fell over your breast, cupping it in his palm as his thumb brushed over your nipple. You watched as black tendrils of shadow danced around his forearm, meeting where his fingers tweaked your nipple. Their cool gentle touch sent a ripple of sensation through you and your head fell back against him as you let out a small whimper. 

“Stop being a fucking tease.” 

Azriel found that he loved the way you whimpered, loved the tinge of frustration in your voice as he touched you. Here you were, melting into his touch, attempting to avoid admitting in words what your body was showing in actions.

“I asked you to do something.” 

He rolled your nipple between his fingers. You let out a deep exhale, pushing yourself back onto him, grinding into the evident bulge that pressed against you, the thin material of your dress doing nothing to disguise his hardened length. 

“Just fuck me already,” you turned your head to catch his gaze, darkened and pupils blown with lust. “I know you want to.”

You covered his hand in yours, molding his hand into your touch, urging him to grab your breast again– harder, firmer. 

The corners of his lips quirked up. “That doesn’t matter. Beg for it.”

Agonizingly slow, his hands roamed your trembling form, lighting flames of desire that you almost feared would consume you whole. Second by second, you felt yourself losing control. The heat of his touch seared through you, eroding the last crumbs of your resistance until all that remained was a burning need to be filled by him, to succumb to the primal urges coursing through your veins. You wanted him. You needed him. 

“Please,” you whispered, the truth spilling from your lips in a voice so meek you barely recognized it as your own. 

"Please what?"

With a trembling breath, you finally let go of the last shreds of your resistance, your voice coming out in a deep, frustrated plea.  “Please fuck me.”

Azriel's lips curved into a predatory smirk. 

“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and sultry as he pulled away from you. In one movement he was pulling your ass closer to him, forcing your body forward to brace yourself on the tree. In seconds you felt the cool air on your body as Azriel pushed your dress above your hips. Naturally, you felt your body bowing at the sensation. He let out a groan at the sight. 

Then he was spreading your legs, baring you before him, glistening cunt on full display. His rough hands gripped your bare ass. He massaged it for a moment, but the motion was brief, and soon you felt a hard hand land on the fat of your cheek. You let out a small shriek, but it was followed by a low moan as he delivered another smack. Azriel smirked at the sound of it, at the sight of your ass reddening with his handprint. 

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” You managed to grit out as you pushed your ass out further,  “I’m growing bored.”

“Bored?” He ran finger through the wetness that pooled at your core. “Your cunt doesn’t seem to think so.”

You moaned at the feeling, pushing yourself back against his hand.

“Too stubborn to admit anything,” Azriel murmured, “But your body gives you away.” 

Azriel took a step back, your body cold at the loss of contact as he freed himself from the confine of his leather pants, each movement filled with a primal urgency that would’ve made him unsettled— embarrassed even— if he had been in a more rational state of mind. But Azriel wasn’t being rational. All he could think about was you, and staring at your beautiful glistening cunt, all he wanted was to fuck you into oblivion, to let his frustrations out. To tame you like a wild animal— his most tantalizing challenge yet. 

He settled himself behind you and stroked his cock along your folds, allowing it to glide against your core until both of you were slick with your desire. He teased you slowly as he moved up and down your entrance. You pushed against him, urging him inside, inviting him to take you. 

Azriel only laughed darkly at the movements, and you whined in response, frustrated and irritated. 

“Remember this the next time you insult me,” he said, “Remember how you were begging for me to fuck you.” 

Half a breath later, he pushed himself inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt. You exhaled in tandem, your cunt clenching him, pulsing around the stretch of him.  He adjusted his angle and picked up the pace, sending pleasure rising in a wave that you couldn’t hold back, your mouth falling open as he began to take you harder. 

You let your forehead fall against your hands, braced against the rough texture of the tree. You faintly felt the ridges under your palm, but there was no pain, no irritation that you knew you were bound to experience later. All you could truly feel was Azriel deep inside you, stretching you out and using you in a way you hadn’t experienced for a very long time. The lust Azriel felt, the experience of being with you, of claiming you as his, was no longer a desire, no longer a want. It was a need. An animalistic and primal need that he felt deep in his chest. 

Azriel's movements were relentless, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure rippling through your body, clouding your mind in a haze of ecstasy and melting away all coherent thought. There were sounds emitted from your lips, this you knew, but they were incoherent whimpers, quiet murmurs whispered towards the ground as your forehead dug into your hands with every buck of Azriel’s hips.

“You had so much to say earlier, Y/n,”  Azriel said, pulling out until he was barely inside you. He thrusted back in, resuming a hard and brutal pace. 

“Why so quiet now?”

Thrust.

“Did you just need the attitude fucked out of you?”

Thrust.

"What will your brothers think?” he taunted, his grip on your hips bruising in its intensity, “Your father?”

Thrust.

“If only your family only knew what their precious princess was up to. Taking it from the likes of me, like some common pleasure hall whore."

The mention of your family sent a surge of burning shame coursing through your veins, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, flushing against your exposed skin. But amidst the suffocating shame, there was something else, something primal and insatiable that stirred within you—a hunger born of defiance, of indulging in a forbidden ecstasy. It filled you with a sense of exhilaration that bordered on madness.

Quickly, that spark of defiance ignited within you, mingling with the fiery hunger coursing through your veins, an urge to bite back at him. You craned your head to look over your shoulder, catching his eyes as you let out a moan, taking your lips in between your teeth. 

"Do common whores get you this riled up?" you purred. There was a feigned innocence in your tone that made Azriel twitch inside you. His gaze burned into yours. "Do they make you this hungry?”

A part of you wanted the confirmation, wanted the triumphant feeling of knowing you could ruin him for everyone else— that you felt better than the females he had bedded, that you, the one he loathed so openly, were the only one to truly quench his thirst.

“Do they feel as good as me, Azriel?”

He let out a deep, guttural moan. The sound traveled through your body, lighting your skin on fire as you bucked back into his movements, meeting every roll of his hips. 

“Say that again,” Azriel groaned.

When you gave no reply, he twisted your hair around one fist and gave it a tug, pulling your body up to him as before. His thrusts never staggered, not even as his hand traveled to wrap around your throat, matching the reddening print from his earlier grip. The other hand remained steady at your hip, gripping into the fabric of your dress and the exposed skin of your body. 

“Say my name,” he growled and your cunt tightened at the sound, at the way he gripped your throat harder. You grasped at his arm with your hands, holding on to his skin as he bucked into you. 

“No.” 

Azriel growled, pulling out of you almost completely before he pushed back in a heavy, angry stroke. Your body arched in pleasure, a small whimper leaving your mouth instinctively.

“Don’t be a brat.”

“Fuck you.” 

“I am,” Azriel said, “And your cunt is swallowing me whole, princess. Like it's made for me, like its been begging to be fucked.”

He released his grip from your throat, letting you fall forward as he placed his hand on the small of your back, arching your body for him as he pounded into you from behind. You fell forward, hands planted on the tree before you, fingers clawing at the bark like an animal in heat. Azriel watched as his cock disappeared into your cunt with every thrust, watched how your ass bounced back on him with every movement, how your tits moved with every roll of his hips. He fought not to finish from the sight alone. 

You struggled to find your voice through the haze of pleasure that clouded your mind, that seemed to twist and tie your tongue to where you could only gasp incoherent words of ecstasy

“Oh, fuck. Azriel.”

Azriel drank in your sounds of pleasure like a male thirsted for centuries, the sound of his name on your tongue sending a wave of pleasure through his body.

“Are you going to cum, Y/n?”

You let yourself surrender to his touch as he continued to ravage you with ruthless abandon, his voice caressing you in ways you never knew a sound could do. You wanted him to go faster, harder, rougher; wanted him to fuck you with all his might, with all that anger you saw. As if he could read your mind, Azriel’s thrusts sped up, slamming into you.

“Fuuck, yeah, you are. I can feel this pretty little cunt clenching me.”

He continued his pace, fucking you with long thorough strokes that left you completely pinned between him and the rough bark of the tree. You felt him heavy against your back, breasts pressed against his hand as he moved between gripping them both roughly, holding onto them for leverage as he fucked you from behind.

"Look at you," he taunted, his grip tightening around you possessively. "So desperate, so needy. You're nothing but a pretty little slut, begging for release, aren’t you?"

Azriel continued, moving deeper and faster, pumping into you with snaps of his hips that had you writhing underneath him. 

"And yet," you managed between breaths, gasps leaving your lips as he drove into you. "You’re the one pounding into me like a brute who can't get enough.” 

With a low groan, Azriel's hand tightened around your breast, his grip possessive as he leaned in to bite at your shoulder with a hungry intensity. He was beginning to think that you’d surely be the death of him, that he had created something, some beast inside him, that refused to be satiated by anything other than you— and that was dangerous. But he didn’t think too much about it, not now, not as he felt your cunt massaging him from the inside, felt your walls clamping onto him in a way that set his body on fire, his cock throbbing. 

Azriel railed you over and over, nothing slow or gentle about his movements. And with every thrust, you whined in ecstasy. His grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place as he kept pounding into you. He fell forward, grinding against you, pushing you further into the rough bark of the tree.

You could feel it, a deep pressure building in your stomach as his cock stretched you in the most delicious way. And you could feel him too, hot against your back, his deep breaths and the groans that reverberated through his body. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in your ears, muffling out the sound of your moans as your whole body tensed.

Then you felt it, a cool trail snaking up your legs. Dark tendrils of Azriel's shadows slithered through your thighs, caressing your skin with a tantalizing touch that made you clench at the sensation. You gasped as they coiled around your clit, winding you up with a feeling you’d never experienced before. With a loud moan, your orgasm rolled through you in a violent convulsion,  white spots dancing at the edges of your vision.

Azriel hated to think it, hated to admit that the sound of you coming undone on his cock was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever heard, that feeling your cunt clench around him as the sound filled his ear was enough for him to unravel. With a choked moan, Azriel spilled into you, spurts of his seed coating your walls. You let out a final, breathy whine at the sensation of him spilling into you, feeling as it began to drip as Azriel slowly pulled out.

With a heavy breath, his gaze lingered on the glistening trail connecting the tip of cock to your cunt. The lust in his eyes faintly faded, and a moment of clarity washed over him as the reality of what he’d just done hit like a sudden, cold wave. He didn’t regret it, no, not at all. This was exactly the release Azriel had needed. In fact, a part of him nearly grinned at the realization, at the relief he now felt in his body. But the other part of him, the rational side afraid of disappointing his family, of fucking something up, awoke in a panic. What the fuck had he just done? And why was he so proud of it? 

You slowly stood up, straightening yourself out as you turned to face him, face flushed and hair a tangled mess. There was a ghost of a smirk playing on your lips as you took them between your teeth and bit down. Your breasts were still exposed, nipples peaked and reddened marks from his rough grip. Azriel's eyes traveled down your form, swallowing hard as he took in the sight before him. He could smell the desire that filled the air around you both, could smell himself on you— the image of him plunging in and out of you still fresh in his mind. 

The idea of it alone made his cock stir again. There was something intoxicating about this situation to him. The image of you returning home, covered in his marks, in his scent, in his seed. Eris smelling him on you, realizing that you’d not only fucked someone he despised, but sullied yourself with an illyrian– just as he’d told Mor. And you, you’d remember this. You’d remember him inside you, remember how you let him use you, fuck you like a common-court whore. And you’d have to live with that. Every insult you’d give him, everytime you sneered at him in the future, there would be a part of you that remembered falling apart on his cock as you begged him for more, for him to fuck you harder.

With a gentle flick of your fingers, your dress was perfectly restored, the fabric falling gracefully around your figure as your hair cascaded down your shoulders in silky, untouched, waves. You smoothed out the sleeves of your dress with a practiced gesture before turning your gaze back to Azriel, scanning him from head to toe. Your eyes lingered on his still-exposed cock, covered in the mixed fluids of your cunt and his seed. A smirk played at the corner of your lips as Azriel looked down, realization flickering in his eyes as he hastily pulled up his pants, stuffing himself back into them. 

"Well, this was fun," you remarked casually– almost bored. Azriel resisted the urge to frown at the words, at the tone you used.  "Catch you later, Shadowsinger."

Before he could respond, you were gone, leaving him standing alone in the forest, staring at the empty space before a tree.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Part Two

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria

[evielmostdefinitely]

hiiii could you please write something about aftercare with young snow? like how in jealous girl it says he babied her afterwards, but a whole fic about it? i just wanna see how sweet a cruel man like snow can be 🤭

tip of my fingers |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested above, aftercare with snow.

contains: fluff. mentions of dom/sub themes. possessive snow.

Coriolanus sat on the edge of the bed, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat, chest still rising and falling with every ragged breath from his post orgasm. He always got flushed like this after a night of particularly rough sex. 

“‘M going to the shower, my love.” Corio muttered, curls matted to his forehead, muggy and sweaty. His hand patted the top of your thigh, gentler than before, your skin still raw and sensitive. 

You didn’t move, didn’t utter a word, really didn’t make a sound besides a pathetic whine. Corio’s head snapped around, turning to you in an instant. His eyes narrowed carefully, scanning over you like he was assessing his latest plans. “Are you alright?” 

Your glazed eyes staring off, face turned, smushed into the mattress, a pool of your own drool beneath you. Normally he’d mock you, tease you for being so messy. “My messy girl, look at you.” He’d give you a grin that felt more like a sneer. 

Not this time. 

Coriolanus called your name, softly but firmly, crouching in front of you. His hand rubbed over your clammy forehead, heated cheeks still flushed from your climax. “Look at me, darling.” Corio muttered, fingers tracing over your cheek down the slope of your neck. You shuddered but didn’t turn to him, still lost in your own haze. “Can you hear me?” 

Your own mind was miles away from that very bedroom, lost under roaring waves and a hazy fog that Corio always got you in. Usually you snapped back quicker, a few loving kisses, the shock of a cold rag cleaning you up. Other times, it was more difficult. 

Coriolanus moved to the bathroom, swallowing down the venomous bark of spewing orders that threatened to fall from his lips. He didn’t like this feeling, when he was out of control, especially with you. When something was wrong and he didn’t know an immediate fix. The rational side of himself told him to stay calm, do what he knew to before spiraling into a panic. 

Corio tried to swallow down his beating heart, wringing the cold water out of the cloth, before walking back into the bedroom. The air was still thick and hot, sticky with the lingering musk of sex. He moved beside you, wordlessly, smoothing the cloth over your forehead. 

The icy feeling shocked your system, leaving your shuddering, mind lurching back, vision clearing. Corio was before you, brows pinched with a concerned frown, studying you carefully. Your eyes met his, blinking helplessly before him. He swallowed a groan at how it made his cock lurch, seeing you so weak and needy. 

“My love,” Corio’s hand slid down your cheek, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. “Are you alright?” 

You blinked, moving into his touch, nearly instinctively. “You’re alright?” Corio pressed, head tilting in a much softer way to look at you. “Yes?” 

You nodded, pushing off the mattress, groaning at the uncomfortable stretch of sore skin on your ass and thighs. Coriolanus had used his belt, your favorite, tonight. 

“Be careful.” Corio clicked, hands wrapping around your biceps, much softer now than before. “You’re going to be sore, darling girl. Careful.” His tone softer now, hushed mumblings as he helped you up. 

You winced when your raw skin brushed the silk of the sheets, the ghosting of a whimper on your lips. Corio shushed you gently, sitting next to you, pulling you into his lap. His hand brushing down your hair, your skin sticky on his own. 

“How are you feeling?” Coriolanus muttered, lips brushing against your scalp, breathing in the sweaty scent mixed with your perfume from before. 

“‘M alright.” You muttered, your cheek against his pec. You could hear his heart rate, how it fluttered and stilled to a steady rhythm. How it would erupt in an excited crescendo when you finally spoke, making your veins fill with ooey gooey rushes of adoration. For all of Coriolanus’ cruelties, his harshness- he did love you. It was evident in moments like these. 

“Do you need the healing ointment? I can get it from the servant’s quarters-” 

“-I’ll be alright, Corio.” You hummed, eyes pulling heavily. The exhaustion washes over you in thick waves. “I just want you to hold me, please.” Your eyes lifted, rounding sweetly. 

He’d be a fool not to, Coriolanus decided, pulling you closer into his chest. He liked you like this, pliant and at his every whim, completely reliant on him. 

Corio moved to the bath after, quieting your whines of protest with a small tut, coaxing kisses to your temples, testing the bath water with great show while you sat on the ledge. 

You stayed pressed to his chest, clinging to him like a lifeline, like you might float away or dissolve if he let go. Corio let you, ego swelling off the dependency. 

“Did I go too hard?” Corio hummed, a sudsy hand rubbing down your spine. The bath filled with the tonic fresh from District Eleven, dried orange peels, lavender, and rose. Coriolanus brought it to you, after his last visit to the district. You had swooned over it, smothering him sillily in kisses that made him blush. 

“No,” You shook your head, inhaling the scent that was entirely his. “I think it was the teasing and the spanking, at the same time. I just- I wasn’t ready for it.” You knew what he wanted to hear. Coriolanus had always been adamant after your rough play that you debrief him. It felt very professional, which is why you were reluctant, but that type of blunt, straight forward reporting is what Corio responded best to. 

Corio nodded, a low hum vibrating out of his chest, tickling your ear. “I see. I won’t do it as much next time.” He wouldn’t apologize, but you could hear it in his unspoken words. 

“Just not as much at the same time.” You whispered sheepishly, as if he didn’t know every part of you. 

Coriolanus nodded, a wet hand rubbing the base of your neck, scratching your scalp gently. He knew you loved it, knew it would have your head tipping back into his touch so he could kiss you. 

You let him wash you, dry you off- only whimpering when the towel brushes over your ignited skin. He shushed you, a silent apology, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh. He put the ointment on anyway, muttering flippantly about how “you had obligations tomorrow, and didn’t need to be squirming the whole time”. You knew it was because it made him feel better. 

Corio dressed you in your nightgown, slipping the powdery blue, soft fabric over your skin, trailing kisses from the back of your shoulder to your ear. 

Underneath the silk of the sheets, you slept in his arms, face to face, whispering in the darkness of the room. It always brought out the vulnerability of Coriolanus in these moments, holding you, feeling you, smelling you- he’d bear his soul to you. 

“I’m unsure about the games.” Corio muttered, arms tightening around you. 

“Unsure in what way, honey?” You hummed, finger raking through his curls, behind his ear- his favorite spot. 

“Unsure that they’ll be as successful as they need to be.” Corio hummed, and even through the dark you could see the concern on his features. “Unsure that people will watch.” 

You paused for a moment. You decided not to tell him how you truly felt, not then, anyways. Selfishly, you didn’t want to ruin the intimacy, the softness of the moment. “I’m sure they’ll be everything you hope for them to be.” You hummed, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “Everything always does.” 

Your words, as forced as they were, brought comfort to Coriolanus. His head falling back into your hair, pressing a kiss to your scalp. Fingertips brushing skin, hushed words, and soft kisses all exchanged under the twilight of the night. Tomorrow, you’d be prim and proper. You’d stand beside Corio respectfully, hide your grimace at the mention of the upcoming reaping, refrain from rolling your eyes at the suck ups that flocked to Coriolanus in a giddy, exaggerated manner. You two would be the picture of perfection that Panem wanted you to be. For now, you’d be content to lay in each other's arms, being yourself instead.

[willowbelle]

i would kill for you to write some Law smut where he has a breeding kink please ^~^

as someone who literally has a breeding kink, say no more, anon. i’m on it! \(>ᴗ•)/♡︎

Hidden Desires

❤︎ trafalgar law x fem reader ❤︎

𖤐₊˚.༄ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) 𖤐₊˚.༄

cw: established relationship, oral (f receiving), teasing, unprotected sex (don’t), breeding kink (duh), missionary, mating press, rough sex, slight stomach bulge, creampie (duh), petnames, fluff at end

summary: established relationship, reader is a member of heart pirates, Law has a secret kink that reader wants to figure out, Law lets his desires out, super nsfw with some fluff at end!

word count: ~2600

note: only loosely proofread so bear with me, my loves.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Hidden Desires

Your boyfriend was a cynical man.

He liked things to be thorough and correct, nothing to be left to interpretation. He was a doctor, after all, a very practical one at that. His analytical precision was nothing to gawk at. For example, when it came to your sex life, he always insisted on rolling a condom over his impressive length before he railed you into the mattress.

But you were about to discover that there was something about Trafalgar Law that made him want to stray away from this methodical way of life.

He buried this desire deep inside himself, too frightened for what might happen if it were to see the light of day, if it were to make its way to your unsuspecting ears.

You knew there had to be something. Something about himself that he was hiding from you. Sometimes, when he fucked you, you saw some glimmers of this yearning slip from within him. On one occasion in particular, when he had you pressed against one of the icy walls of the Polar Tang, your legs wrapped around his waist shakily as he pounded into you, he let his aching speak for him,

“I want to fill you to the brim, y/n…”

The confession was quiet, so much so that you asked him to repeat himself, surely you had heard him incorrectly. Hips still snapping away against yours, he shook his head and groaned into your neck, refusing to elaborate.

This interaction had sprouted a seed in your mind, a tiny one, but one that you determined to nourish and sprout; what longing resided inside your boyfriend, your captain, that he insisted on keeping hidden from you?

Law was seated at his desk in his office, scribbling away in his notebook, his other hand holding open an anatomy textbook, dark gray eyes scanning back and forth between the two.

You laid on his bed, your body still, but your mind racing.

Silence had hung heavy in the room for over an hour now. The two of you had an agreement, if you wanted to keep him company while he worked, you needed to stay quiet. You knew Law was busy today, like every day, and you knew better than to disturb him.

You anxiously picked at your fingernails, trying desperately to catch up with your turbulent mind.

“What’s got your brain so preoccupied, y/n?” your boyfriend’s deep voice began, much to your surprise. He was speaking to you, of course, but his eyes remained glued to his notes. Law was an observant man, you weren’t surprised that he could still pick up on your mannerisms, even with his back to you.

“Thinking…” you admitted, knowing it wasn’t much of a confession.

“Clearly,” he toyed. You couldn’t see his face, but your brain filled in the missing piece. You knew he was smirking, as he always did when he bantered with you.

“What are you hiding from me, Law?” you began, moving off of the bed and bringing yourself to your feet, “I want to know what’s in there,” you spoke, motioning to his head with the point of your finger.

Your boyfriend finally brought his face up from his textbook to meet your curious eyes.

“What are you talking about, doll?” he chuckled, “You know me better than anyone.”

“I know I know you, Law,” you grinned at him, making your way towards him, placing your hand on his toned chest beneath his shirt. “But I want to know what you want to do to me. What you really want to do to me.”

To the outside perspective, Law’s face was cold and calculating, but to you, his partner, you could make out the slight blush that now dusted his cheeks, and the glimmer of arousal in his eyes.

“You really want to know, y/n?” he began, his voice now a seductive whisper.

Staring up at him, you gulped dryly. Even with no idea what to expect, you placed all of your trust in Law’s tattooed hands, and nodded your head.

With your assurance, Law began to speak again, bringing his fingers to the buttons of his shirt.

“Ive always wondered,” be began, starting to undo the buttons, “what it would be like,” working his way down his shirt, shrugging it off of his toned shoulders, exposing his tattooed chest and abdomen to you, “to fill you up.” Law gazes down at you, face painted with a knowing smirk.

You felt heat begin to grow in your core as you stared up at the shirtless man before you, your cheeks now glowing pink.

“L-Like how?” you stuttered meekly.

Law chuckles at you before sinking to his knees before you, placing his strong hands at the waistband of your skirt before pulling it down in one swift motion, leaving you in nothing but your slick-coated panties, causing you to blush even deeper, heat now boiling in your core.

“I want you to think about,” he begins, pausing to kiss along your thighs, “what it would be like,” he kisses more, making his way towards your slit beneath the fabric of your underwear, “to be stuffed full of my cum,” he begins to kiss your slit, causing you to gasp and reach down to grab ahold of his dark hair, “to be filled with my babies, y/n”

“L-Law…” his name is the only thing you can utter in response to his lewd confession.

He hooks his fingers beneath the band on your panties, pulling them down, too, to meet your skirt in a pile on the floor.

He spread your legs slightly to give himself access to your dripping pussy, rewarding it with a long stripe of his hot, wet tongue, causing you to throw your head back and cry out for him.

“A-Ah, L-Law-!”

His tongue continues its ravenous assault on your clit and opening, causing your legs to shake and buckle beneath you, but your strong boyfriend holds you up, not stopping for even a moment, his tongue still working wonders into your cunt. He lapped and swirled his tongue at your swollen clit, earning more gasps and cries from within your throat. Your vision began to grow hazy as Law pulls you further and further towards your impending orgasm.

“L-Law, i’m c-coming!” you cried, fingers still locked in his dark hair.

He only groans into your pussy in response, still feverishly working at your clit.

In an instant, the knot growing within your stomach snaps, and you’re gushing fluids onto Law’s hardworking tongue, throwing your head back and crying at the intensity of your orgasm.

“O-oh, my god, Law!”

Before you can even have a chance to recover, Law scoops you up and hoists you over his shoulder, carrying you to his bed.

“H-Hey!” you meekly protested, hitting your delicate fists into his back, “I need a second!”

“Sorry, dear,” he began, voice ridden with lust, “Need you now.”

You blushed immensely at his confession as he throws you gently onto the bed, wasting no time as he climbs atop you and locks his lips with yours. He’s breathing heavily as he kisses you, overcome with passion and desire. Your tongues dance together as you moan into one another’s mouths, Law dipping his hand down to begin working at the button and zipper to his jeans. You hear the familiar sound of a zipper being dragged along its track and clothes hitting the floor. When you open your eyes and glance down, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend’s long, beautiful cock standing upright against his stomach, pulsing with desire to be encased within your hot, tight, welcoming walls.

You wait patiently for Law to climb off of you and retrieve a condom from his nightstand, like he always does. Except, this time, for the first time, it begins differently. Law catches you offguard by taking his throbbing cock in his hand and rubbing his flushed, leaking tip up and down your slit, bare.

“B-But Law,” you started, voice trembling, “W-What about protection?” you uttered meekly.

Law chuckles as he holds himself up on top of you, his muscular arm flexing, still using his other hand to rub his bare tip against your leaking slit. “I want to feel you, y/n,” he begins, “Really feel you,” his voice is low and husky, “Everyday I sit at my desk and imagine what it would be like to fill you up with my cum until its spilling out of that pretty pussy of yours. I want to pump my babies into you, y/n” his face is in your neck as he confesses, his voice like warm honey in your ears.

Your legs tremble around his waist as you feel the evidence of your arousal now leaking more profusely onto your boyfriend’s thick cock.

“Then stuff me full, Law, please,” you purred into his ear, your voice velvety and seductive.

Law’s breath hitches in his throat and you feel his big cock twitch against your opening, clearly aroused by your desperate plea. He groans in your ear as he begins to push his blunt tip into your tight, leaking hole.

“F-Fuck baby,” he groans, “You ready?”

“Fuck me, Law,” you grasped at his muscular back as you pleaded, “Fill me with your babies.”

At this, Law wastes no time pushing into you, you let out a loud cry as he stuffs you full, in one swift motion, his long cock is fully enveloped within your tight, gummy walls.

“O-Oh my god, L-Law, you’re so big-!” you cry out, nails digging down his back.

He groans at the familiar feeling of your hot walls squeezing him in so tightly.

“I know I am, baby, show me you can take it,” he teases, voice shaky with pleasure.

Law begins to thrust his hips into yours, fucking you into the mattress as you shake and cry beneath him.

You inhale sharply each time he thrusts forwards, his blunt tip kissing your cervix with each movement, causing a small bulge in your stomach. Noticing this as well, Law smirks and presses a hand to your stomach to intensify your pleasure,

“Look at that, baby,” he groans, his eyes motioning to where his cock shows through your skin, “look how good im stuffing you,”

You cry out in pleasure, looking down to be greeted with the sight of Law’s cock pulsing beneath your skin.

“M-Mmm! Law-!”

Law’s tattooed hand moves upwards to hold your face, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into your cheek before he wipes your tears.

“You’re being such a good girl, y/n, taking this big cock of mine so damn well,” he praises.

You moan at his lewd remarks, wrapping your legs around his waist and pushing your ankles into his back, silently begging for him to go harder, faster, anything, you just needed more.

“Oh yeah?” Law smirks, “As you wish, my love.”

Law brings his hips back before slamming into you, making you scream out for him.

“Fuck! Law!” you cried, helplessly digging into his back. Your head spun at the intensity of the entire situation, your boyfriend finally letting his lewd desires escape his brain, his stoic composure breaking and coming undone and he pounds into your tight pussy and groans your name from atop you.

A serious 180 from earlier, when nothing but silence filled the room, but now, as your boyfriend had his way with you, the walls vibrated with the obscene sounds of moans and wet skin slapping together.

Law’s balls slapped against your cunt with each forward thrust, making you moan out delightfully at the feeling.

You felt yourself reaching your limit, colored tars dancing beneath your eyelids as you squeezed them shut while Law’s cock battered your cervix.

You dug your nails harder into his toned back, surely drawing blood, making him groan out loudly in pleasure.

“Shit, y/n, you’re taking me so well, you’re so fucking tight.”

You knew exactly what you had to say to break him, to make him burst inside you.

“F-Fill me, Law…” you whimpered in between thrusts, “stuff me full of your babies, make them leak out of this little pussy,” you cried, your eyes filled with tears, drool spilling from your mouth as you moaned for him.

“F-Fuck, y/n! You have no idea what that does to me-!” Law groaned through gritted teeth, his body trembling as he railed you.

And then, he pulls your legs from the death-lock they had on his waist and presses them down into the mattress, forcing you into a mating press.

“L-Law-!” you cried, now feeling his cock even deeper.

“G-Gotta make sure I get it all into you, y/n,” he groaned into your ear, making you shiver, “None of this cum can go to waste,” he purred, “Need to shoot it straight into your womb~”

You blush immensely at his obscene words.

He thrusts harder, now, the bulge in your stomach showing more prominently.

“N-Nghhh-! L-Law! I’m s-so close-!” you screamed, feeling yourself coming undone beneath pleasure-hungry, lust-ridden boyfriend.

“I’m right behind you, dear,” Law groaned, assuring you, “Let it out.”

And with his permission, you felt stars dance beneath your skin as you orgasmed, gushing onto Law’s throbbing cock, coating him in your slick.

“F-Fuck, baby,” Law cursed, voice hoarse, “I’m coming,” he groaned into your ear.

In an instant, you feel as Law’s cock shoots hot ropes of cum into your pussy, decorating your inner walls.

You throw your head back and moan out, digging your fingers into the bedsheets, trembling at the new sensation.

“L-Law-! Fuck! I feel it!” you cried, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and spilling down your hot, red cheeks.

“Y-Yeah? You feel my cum shooting into you, baby?” he groans, still thrusting into you, riding out his orgasm, forcing his cum deeper into you, “Gotta stuff it all into you,” he moans out.

You shake beneath him, feeling his hot cum begin to spill out of your cunt as he continues to stuff you with his big cock.

Eventually, Law’s hips slow and then still, his tattooed chest heaving up and down as he breaths heavily, coming down from his high.

He reaches down with a shaky hand and pulls out of you slowly, making you whine as you throb around nothing.

“Y/n?” he inquires, looking down at your flushed body, wet with sweat and moving up and down shakily as you breathe, attempting but failing to catch your breath. “Are you okay, doll?” he voice was ridden with concern, fearful that he overstepped with his kink.

You smirk and him and sit up, making him lay down before settling into his warm chest, his cum running down your legs.

You feel at home.

You hum happily before you looking up at him with your big doe eyes.

You grab his large hand in your smaller one, placing it gently on your stomach before leaning in to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, mirroring his statement from earlier,

“Everyday, I sit on your bed and think about how empty I feel.”

You feel your boyfriend tense beneath you, blush tinting his cheeks as you playfully bite at the shell of his ear,

“Thank you for filling me up, Law~”

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

anon, my dear, i sincerely hope this quenched your thirst-! it surely did mine (,,> ᴗ <,,)

i hope you all enjoyed breeding kink law!! ʚ♡︎ɞ

kisses,

willow ꒰⚘݄꒱

©this work belongs to willowhaze26.

do not repost, modify, plagiarize, translate, or share on other platforms. 

comments, likes, and reblogs appreciated!

[fever-fluff]

Take my Hand

Synopsis: Azriel really wants to hold your hand, but he's afraid that he'll hold it too tight.

(I've been obsessed with writing something that focuses on Azriel's hands. Because of how it was too late to save his hands when his brother's burned him, I'm wondeirng if he ever had to relearn things when they finally healed himself.)

Word Count: 2k(Not Proof Read)

Sometimes he had wished he had burned in the blaze of heat centuries ago, that the months of relearning how to make a fist with his fingers and then splay them wide again hadn’t tunnelled itself so far into his memory that he could still feel the anger, pain and frustration of not being able to do what infants could. But the years had rolled on, one into another and even with all the Illyrian healing in the world, Azriel would never be able to go back to a time where his hands were just… hands.

He was supposed to meet you today, outside the little bookstore you and Nesta frequented so many times you knew it better than your own rooms. That was an hour ago. But the pains that sparked from his fingers up through his arm had left him twitching so uncontrollably that he couldn’t even lift the cup from its saucer this morning without the tea sloshing over the sides.

He could hear Madja’s hum of disaproval in the back of his mind as he changed his hands from the almost boiling water in one bowl to the icy cold in another. He’d been slacking on the regiments she’d given him all those years ago. With the dexterity he needed to wield his blades, Azriel was supposed to vigilantly keep up with the hot and cold baths and rigorous stretches and ointments so he wouldn’t lose their complete cooperation, but in the past few months he’d avoided them to no end.

If he were being honest with himself, it had started much earlier than that. Seeing so many round him now that didn’t fail in menial bodily functions had left him feeling lesser than, so he’d reduced his routine week by week, then day by day, until he’d relied solely on what his body could do to stop his hands seizing up. What an idiot he was.

The twitching had finally ceased, but his hands had locked into a half-made fist and he grunted with frustration, asking the house to send a bowl of melted wax so he could attempt to bend his fingers back to where they should be.

Submerging one, he began to think of you. Had you left? Or were you still standing outside the sage green door with the potted plants littering the entrance, wondering if he’d stood you up? It had been too long for you to think he was running late, and he cursed himself to Hel.

He’d imagined your first outing over and over again since you’d said yes a week ago. How he’d fly down to you, no Illyrian leather in sight, instead complimenting your dress his shadows had described perfectly with the slacks and shirt he’d chosen after tearing at his hair all morning. He wouldn’t bring any flowers, remembering your distaste for uprooting harmless fauna and instead he’d offer you something hot to drink to keep you warm in the crisp air of the afternoon. You’d smile and thank him, asking if he was ready to go inside and he’d grab you hand, giving it a kiss as he hummed his yes. He wouldn’t let it go the entire time you scanned the bookshelves. Until you’d finally begin choosing your reads for the coming days and he’d offer to carry them for you, holding them securely imaging it was you instead. Once you were finished, he’d hold the bag of books in one hand, while reaching with his other and lacing your fingers together. The day would carry on much the same, and his hands would always be there, either at your waist or your own, always making sure you were still by his side – that he was not imagining any of it.

But that’s all it was in the end – his imagination. His hands were no good for soft touches. He was always grabbing things too lightly or too tight, never just right. They showed him for the brute he was, that he was not meant for delicate things like you.

Slowly bending the first of his fingers back, Azriel heard the slightest rap of knuckles on his door, and he announced himself before he even thought to check who it was. But the soft footsteps he had become so used to picking out over the rest of his loud family had his head snapping up to face the opened door and see you, a small smile on your face with sad eyes. “Is this a bad time?”

His wing barely missed tipping the bowl of wax on the floor as he spun to face you, hiding it and his once again shaking hands behind his back as he called your name in surprise. Shadows flitted around him, making for your figure in the door and swirling at your feet. Their movements displaced the fabric of your dress, the skirt of it flowing with the black tide. You looked so much more than beautiful, blowing whatever his imagination had conjured up earlier out through the open window. All Azriel could find himself thinking of was how soft you looked when you filled the stretching silence once again with your voice. “I was worried. You didn’t show and I thought Rhys might have called you away. But when he said he hadn’t seen you since breakfast, well… I really didn’t know what to think.”

“I -” Gods, why did his own words have to fail him now? “I have no excuse for leaving you to wait. I’m sorry.”

You nodded, “Apology accepted. But Az, if you didn’t want to join me this morning, you could’ve told me. I didn’t want to make you feel like you had no choice but to hide away in you ro-”

“I wasn’t hiding! I – I wanted to come, truly, I just…” Azriel sighed as he placed his hands back in front of him, the shaking and curling fingers on full display in front of you. “I’ve tried everything, but none of it’s working. I just, I wanted today to be perfect, but I should’ve known it would be me that ruined it.”

There was no gasp of surprise as he’d imagined when you inevitably found out about his lacking. Only Rhys and Cass were privy to his condition, Feyre, her sisters, even Mor had been left in the dark for years now on his request. But you had slowly walked toward him and now reached for his hand to peel the hardened shell of wax back, dropping it into the rest.

Guiding him to the bed, he sat and watched as you silently picked up vial after vial of oil on his dresser, putting them down as you read each label until you found what you were looking for.

He said nothing as you tipped some of it into your hands, rubbing them together to warm them after being out in the biting cold for an age, all thanks to him. You reached for his, only stopping to ask him a simple ‘may I?’ before he agreed, and you took his right hand in between your delicate fingers.

Slowly, you pressed and kneaded the aching skin and muscles, setting the fingers that refused to move back with careful movements. It was tediously long, one of the treatments that he avoided almost all of the time because his own could never fix the problem. But you never complained, never tired from the repetitive nature of it once. When the shakes had finally eased, and his fingers could once again flex and move with little stiffness, you moved to his left; using the same care and diligence on it as you did the first. It must have been a couple hours before you finally retracted your hands from his, resting them in you lap as you smiled up at him. “There. Any better?”

Azriel felt the first drop hit his cheek and roll down until it fell, the rest soon following. “Where did you learn to do that?” He couldn’t tear his eyes form yours, even when his vision blurred from the tears. You had done something no one ever had. After everything he had done – leaving you to wait, sending no word of why, then sitting here with you like a buffoon as you tended and cared for him as no one else had. How could you still look at him like that, with so much warmth?

You blushed under the question, “I asked Madja to show me, in case you needed help when no one else could do it.”

He bristled, no no no no no. “Did Rhys tell you? Did Cassian?!” He’d kill them, he’d kill them both for putting you here. But you waved you hands in denial of his words. “No. No! I – I just thought that it would be something you might need… you know? I know that Illyrian healing is one of the most potent there is, so for your hands to be so scarred, I just thought that maybe it wasn’t all surface level…” Your voiced had filtered out as you finished explaining, but Azriel couldn’t even believe the words that had reached his ears.

You had gone to Madja, or your own choosing, to ask for something no one else had thought of in the time they had known him. “You did this for me?”

“Well, yea. You’re always taking care of me. I just wanted to take care of you sometimes, because I know its nice to receive it. So why shouldn’t I return the fav- ”

Azriel hadn’t even let you finish before he’d moved to place his lips on yours, stealing the intake of breath you’d taken in surprise. He was right, you were soft, and delicate, and just, everything. He moved his now still hands to hold you as he wanted to this afternoon – wrapping one round your waist as the other placed itself to cup your neck. You preened as he pulled you closer, legs tangling slightly and your own hands, the ones which had cared for him so wonderfully, reached for the front of his shirt and pulled on the fabric to bring him impossibly closer. You were incredibly open to him, inviting everything he gave you with warmth and just as much delight as he did. it was impossible to pull away from you, and even as he gained the strength to do so you had chased his mouth with a slight nip to his lower lip. His hum swallowed by you, tongue teasing the seam of his mouth until he opened up just as much as you had, and he became engulfed by you once again.   

This time it had been you who pulled to break away from him. He forced himself not to follow as you had done earlier, opening his eyes and finding yours already looking at him. Your cheeks had flushed, and he noticed that somehow you had come to sit on his lap, legs tossed to the side while your dress pooled around you both. He supposed he looked no better, even less so with the grip he had on your waist and neck. But you didn’t seem to mind. Not at all as he worked the skin underneath in a silent apology to sooth whatever pressure he had inflicted.

“Thank you”

Your eyes closed at his words and touch, leaning forward to peck his lips one more time. “Anytime, Shadowsinger. Anytime.”

He should ask to redo your missed outing this morning, should apologise one more time for leaving you to wait. But with the way you had curled into him, Azriel pushed his thoughts back. He’d make it up to you later, he promised himself. He just wanted to hold you for a little while longer.

[latenightdaydreams]

Okay, imagine mechanic!Konig who fixes your car and is just you know- hot. And then as payment he wants a date. In the back of his car. Where he fucks your brains out and is just so sweet. Mutters the dirtiest things about always being able to fix your car if you give him a baby or something and is just- god I'm feral for this man. And your writing!

Anyway, sorry if it's a weird ask. I love your writing to death, it's fantastic! Make sure to eat yummy snacks and stay hydrated!

AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! That means so much to me and I'm so happy to have such great supporters like you! I absolutely LOVE this idea! I hope you enjoy! Thank you so so much for your support!! 💗

Mechanic!König x reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 2

>cw: fem/afab, sex for payment, p in v, breeding kink, dirty talk

Word count: 1.4k

For more click here✍🏽🔞

.

.

You turn your car off and step out, accidently slamming the car door behind you. The ground underneath your feet is uneven as you make your way towards the open garage door. The place looks old and the location seems right out of a horror movie, but you push those thoughts aside.

Looking inside the garage you see a man bent over under the hood of a red pick-up truck. His dirty white shirt and oil-stained jeans are all you can see of him.

“Excuse me? Sir? Hi, I’m y/n, I was wondering if you could look at my car?” Your voice is small and polite, like your customer service voice.

König stops working on the truck and stands, looking over at you. His eyes roam your body, taking in your shape before his icy blue eyes finally meet yours. He looks around as if to check if you were here with anyone or if you came alone.

“What’s wrong with it?” He asks stoically not giving away how attracted to you he is just yet.

“I have trouble starting it and when it does turn on it makes this terrible screeching noise,” Your eyes scan his body, his muscles glistening from a light sheen of sweat across his body. His face is stern with scars across his cheek and upper lip, but it doesn’t take away from his handsomeness.

König stays quiet for a while before walking forward and grabbing a rag to wipe his hands off on, “Okay, let me take a look.”

Tossing the rag aside he walks forward towards you with his hand out for your keys. You place them in his palm, his eyes looking down at you as he towers over you with his 6’10 frame. You turn on your heels and walk to your car with König following close behind. His eyes are glued to the way your ass sways with every step you take.

He unlocks your car and leans in to turn the car on. His eyes watching the dashboard as the engine stalls turning over. Once your car eventually does, he hears the loud sound you spoke of and he knows the issue.

“You have a bad alternator.” He steps back and looks down at you before opening the hood of your car. “It’s an easy fix, should only take an hour, two at most.”

His eyes go back to you and his gaze lingers on your cleavage before looking back down at the car, “There are seats in the shop, you can wait there.”

“Okay, thank you.” You walk back to the garage and pull out your phone to help pass the time. You look around to see an old photo of a car and nothing else personal. The space is clean and only the sound of his radio fills the space.

An hour and a half passes by and König walks in. You put your phone back in your bag and stand.

“She turns on, no issues now.” He says as his eyes look around the shop trying not to be too intense with his gaze.

“Oh, thank you so much sir, -”

“König.” He cuts you off, his gaze going back to yours.

“Thank you, König.” You smile warmly at him. Looking down at your purse you begin to fish your wallet out, “How much do I owe you?”

König looks at the wallet in your hands before his gaze travels over your body once more. He wasn’t interested in your money. There is one thing he’s wanted since he saw you walking up to him, you. He didn’t want to be a perve and ask for it, so he just gave you a price, “$600.”

Your face drops as you only have $400 until next payday, “Can I pay $200 now, and the rest later.”

“I don’t take payments.”

“Oh...”

“But,” he walks closer to you, “I’m sure we can figure something out.” His large hand caresses the side of your face, a smirk on his lips.

.

.

You end up in the back of his SUV with blacked out windows parked behind his garage. Your clothes stripped off and thrown on the floor, your body completely exposed to him. His shirt pulled off showing you his muscular abdomen as his pants are pulled down around his knees. A soft blonde happy trail leading from his belly button to his erection. One of his hands gripping your thigh and holding one leg up as his other hand guides his condomless cock to your pussy.

He pushes in slowly at first, letting out a soft groan as he feels how tight you are. Your warm gummy walls wrapping around his cock as he bullies his way inside.

“Mein Gott your pussy is so tight Maus,” he moans as he grabs your other leg now. His lips kiss your legs up to your feet as he slowly bucks his hips forward. Your hands grasp the seat as he fucks you. Pathetic mewls leave your lips, feeling your pussy being stretched to an almost painful point.

“You’re so beautiful…” Letting go of one leg, he moves his hands down to your breast and begins to tug on your nipple, leaning in as his lips find your nipple; licking before sucking on your sensitive peak. His tongue circling around before wrapping his lips around and pulling gently, your fingers combing through his blonde hair. His mind wished you were full of milk so he could drink from you. His hands dropping down to your stomach and caressing your soft skin. Oh, how beautiful you’d look swollen and full with his child.

“You need a man to take care of you Schatzi,” he leans back and looks at your pretty pussy stretching around his fat cock. The sound of your wet cunt sounding like angels singing to him. He pushes both legs back and leans into you more as he begins to pound your pussy harder. His eyes watching your breast bounce before his eyes travel to your stomach. You’re tiny compared to his massive body, but taking his dick so well.

“I could be that man,” he groans, “you’d never have to worry about your car ever again Liebling.” His voice was laced with lust and ecstasy. König has never desired a woman so much before as he desires you.

“Just have my baby, let me fuck my baby into you.” He growls as one of his hands goes to your sopping wet pussy as begins to rub your clit.

Legs twitching, you’re lost in the euphoria of the moment. His cock filling you and making you so dick dizzy you don’t even fully register his words. “Please, yes, fuck me.”

“That’s what I want to fucking hear.” König grabs your leg and moves you on your side. He lays his body behind you on the seat and lifts your leg up. His face by yours as he gently kisses your neck and the side of your face. His cock slipped back into your wet pussy, causing your eyes to flutter. He let out a small sigh, “That’s my girl.”

König moves hair from your face as he continues to kiss all over you, “You’re so perfect Schatzi.”

His hand slowly slips down your thigh as he begins to rub your clit again, “Cum for me Liebling, cum on my cock.”

You turn your head to look at König, his eyebrows pinched together as his mouth hangs open. His eyes meet your and he leans in to kiss your soft lips. His tongue licks your lips before pushing between them. His tongue twirling in yours and tasting you, he’s in heaven. He can feel you begin to tighten around him as your legs begin to tremble. Your kiss begins to get lazy as you concentrate on your orgasm.

“Please, please, please.” You moan out, your breathing heavy. His hand rubs over your swollen sensitive clit faster making you squirm in his arms. You feel how wet you get as your pussy begins to squeeze around his cock, his balls tightening as he is eager to get off.

König’s eyes roll back as he leans his head against the seat now, his arm under you wrapping tightly around your stomach and grabs it.  “Do you want my cum?”

“Yes,” you look back still on a high and watch his face as he closes his eyes while the pleasure takes over his whole being, “please cum in my tight pussy.”

That made him let out a loud groan as he moaned your name. His cock begins to throb as he releases deep inside of you. He leans forward to kiss your neck and check, desperately wanting your lips. You turn your head to meet his lips as you both kiss passionately.

.

.

.

Nine weeks later your car is still running great, but you’re 4 days late.

Part 2

[svndaysaweek]

Overture (Prequel to Enlightenment) — {Feat. Karina}

8.7k words

A/N: You don’t know how old this draft is… I still remember that anon who sent a few asks about this series, and I really hope that they read this! This one is the longest I’ve ever written. Might not be the best piece, but I’m so proud of myself that I did my best. Thank you @dnd-writes for editing and giving me awesome advices. Enjoy!

*Prequel to “Enlightenment”

******

“Doesn’t matter how the two met. It’s about how they’re together ‘til now.”

******

It’s the first day in your new high school. It’s already March but the breeze is yet to blow winter away, strongly acclaiming its presence with the icy wind you face as soon as you come out of the main building of your school to go to the cafeteria. You haven’t made any friends to have lunch with yet, so you change your mind to just head to the smoking spot–behind the auditorium which is already an alien building itself–and kill some time smoking. You turn your way to the smoking spot inside the huge tide of students heading to the cafeteria. Freezing air makes you pace up to the spot.

After passing a few corners where even the wind has been disturbed to travel through, you find a drum can with fire in it making a peaceful crackling sound.

And a girl standing right by it as if wanting to get burnt. “Are you the new one?” Her voice is sharp enough to make it sound wary, yet quite chirpy to end up hitting you as rather coquettish.

“I don’t… I don't really know you,” Your steps towards her contradict your words. “Me neither.” At the fire you light your own cigarette. Your eyes scan her body from the ground to meet hers doing the same to you. The yellow name tag catches your eyes. Her name is Yu Jimin, third grade. And where the name tag is what makes your attention gather up too–perfect size, matches her wavy figure and sassy face, calmly heaves when she’s inhaling in the smoke.

“My name’s not that hard to read,” That’s when you realize that Yu Jimin, this unusual girl, will be an attraction with challenges. It’s all in her grin, in her turbid eyes that never leave yours–to be honest, it’s yours that never leaves hers; they won’t let the leash on your eyes loosen, until she wants to.

You suck it in, and breathe out a mouthful of smoke in the cold air. You look at her again and she's been watching you thoroughly, from head to toe, examining your body, shape, façade and all things she finds nice to look at, regardless of you mirroring her like once isn’t really enough.

She’s got such a nice, sculpted body, hidden under the school uniform but even more premo like that; concave and convex, it just hugs her curves impeccably. Narrow waist and wide, tight hips causing the skirt to struggle not to be torn apart. What’s more is her face, at the height of your chest, looking almost unrealistic, inhumanly beautiful, especially with a shallow grin like right now.

You are automatically making steps toward Jimin and she’s not backing up. You turn your head right to let out the smoke and then return to the ongoing gaze between you two.

“Don’t I look cold?” Jimin steps backwards, from the fire and from you. It makes you just automatically look at her legs, so slick and teem with femininity. You keep following what she tells you to do, what the hormones tell you to do.

“What do you want me to say?” It should be delivered as a counterattack to the dominance Jimin has shown you, but it, unfortunately, ends up sounding as if you were really confused. And Jimin almost bursts into laughter which she manages to hold in.

“So, third grade? What class are you in?”

“Two. You?” You drop the used cigarette and step on it to put it out. “Four. I’ll drop by sometime, handsome.”

Then she leaves the spot just like that. You are so interested in the girl Yoo Jimin. Given that she’s pretty like that, smokes around, she’s nothing like the normal students, obviously. And you can tell Jimin also found you special. Yeah, you know people don’t get to see a man like you quite often. You also know you don’t get to see a girl so appetizing like her often. It’s third year in highschool. You’re no amateur to let a girl play you around, rather, you’ve learned to control those feisty, hungry girls, but ugh, to be honest you don’t know what’s going on. 

******

She never comes to see you until the end of school. Nor do you, because you thought you could wait–precisely, you thought you had to wait. You definitely want to take the upper hand in this new relationship so you just head home, yet with a bit of disappointment. But you don’t let anyone know. Maybe she’s just playing you out. That’s unacceptable for you. You calmly wait for the bus deep in thought. Maybe find someone else tomorrow. I don’t know.

“Hey, going somewhere?”

Fuck. It’s her. Jimin.

You think of complaining, but swallow it back and answer. “Home. You?” Jimin shrugs with nonchalance. “I don’t know. Your place, maybe? Do you live alone?” She lunges in suddenly, and you could just let her be as spunky as she can be. “I do. Why do you want to know that?” You throw a question, feigning calmness, and Jimin just smirks back.

“Don’t ask me.”

You’re on the bus. You let Jimin take the window side and sit next to her. You stuff your ears with some random songs and lock your eyes to the screen in your palm to leave the absorbing girl next to you out of your world even for a second.

“What made you move to my school?” Suddenly one of your earphones is between her fingers, your arm in hers to squish her breast slightly which feels so intentional. This bold little chick keeps surprising you in unforeseeable ways. Besides, you can read that she’s definitely testing you. Seems a little bit like an upside-down situation, for you to be the object, and oh, don’t you say you don’t find this rather fun.

“Well, there was an accident. You don’t need to know any further.” Her questions don’t seem to end, however. An eye roll might silence her—

“You can tell me. It’s alri-“

“You’d better shut the fuck up, Jimin.” Your fingers hold her chin up, facing you, merely a breath away as your noses tickle each other. And what gets you a moment later is her eyes, round and glowy, that could easily see through your brain, trying to suffocate you in the vivid yet gooey gaze. And there she plants her words straight into your brain; I’m a little impressed, but try harder. 

A sudden squeak of the brake informs you to get off. You step out of the bus and Jimin quietly follows. Then you start walking at a rather slow pace. The sound of another pair of footsteps is the only clue of her existence for you.

“You made me wait.” You break the silence as you near your house. You don’t bother turning back to be an audience for her commanding attitude, but her cockiness nonetheless makes it to your ears.

“Well, I might have just forgotten. My bad.” You unlock the door, let Jimin in and close it. Right after the thud you pin her arms over her head with one hand, eliciting a sharp yelp from her.

“You made me fucking wait, Jimin. You’ll have to pay for it.” Your face is just a few inches from hers again. Your straining voice is mixed with her breath, hot, and your burning gaze never leaves hers, to return the blow that she had on your mind; you don’t know me yet.

“You should feel lucky.”

“Why?”

“I’m interested in you.” Jimin’s words, however, don’t sound tense or weak despite your visible dominance. Rather, it’s an impudent confidence that defies the dynamic knotted between your eyes. Jimin herself visualizes it with an even wider smile, dense with deliberate harm to your ego.

“Mmm…!” You dive into Jimin’s lips while your other hand suddenly wraps around her neck hard. Keeping the chokehold still, your hand once holding her wrists tears her school shirt open, letting the buttons randomly fly to the floor. With her hands free, they dangle on your arms. Her demure hand tries to push you back from her neck, but her tongue is flapping inside your mouth, already allured by the intenseness. Your other hand hesitates about before swiftly undoing her bra and Jimin drops it on the floor. You squeeze the godly pair of flesh and soon pull back from the kiss.

“Shit, you like it rough, huh?” Jimin giggles, with a killing lip bite, and discards her buttonless shirt. There you feel something kick your heart, to see a girl enjoying your selfishness and harshness for the first time. A thought that this girl might be the one for you passes through your mind like a hit-and-run truck.

You turn yourselves around and make Jimin walk backwards to your bedroom with your guide. Jimin doesn't wait to unbutton your shirt on your way, and the corners of her lips soon get pulled down by the lust exponentially charging up. You try to look calm but you’re no different–can’t help it in front of this amazing figure of Jimin, skin-to-skin just for you.

Entering the bedroom you push Jimin onto the bed. Her under lip experiences another intense bite as you lay her down and climb over her body, face to face just like a few minutes ago. With one hand supporting your weight, you take the other to her irresistible breasts and fondle them. Jimin hooks her arms and magnetizes your lips to hers for a delirious lip lock once again. Your hand slides down her torso to the button of her uniform skirt and undoes it then takes it off of her fatal legs and throws it to the floor.

“Next time you won’t wear these, okay?” It’s a demand but also a command, with your fingers on the wet spot on her panties. Her hands find themselves wandering on your toned chest, much in admiration. She nods quickly and unbuckles your pants.

“Needy,” Her hastiness makes you grin, and your words only make Jimin’s excitement grow.

“Yes. I am.” This is what makes you wanna accept the challenge; she’s talking things like that all too fresh, like you have to feel thankful for it. You take your pants off with your underwear to be fully naked. You help Jimin get rid of the annoying cloth being dampened by her pussy off her legs and throw it to the pile of clothes on the floor. With the anticipation for the next step Jimin’s breath paces up, running thin like her patience.

“You’re fucking big…” Jimin marvels at the way your cock tickles her belly button and her tummy. You slap her bare stomach a few times with your cock, spit on it and spread the slickness across with slow strokes.

“I said you’ll have to pay for it, Jimin,” You rub your cock on her wetness, gaining more lubrication, and slap your cock on her folds to see her reaction.

“Ah, please make me…Make me-OH FUCK…!” You push into the hilt with a swift thrust. The tightness draws a groan straight from your throat, and your right hand rises to her neck and chokes her hard again.

“You tell me who’s lucky. You think it’s still me?” Straight to the point that has been bothering you ever since it was spoken. You love to make things clear—dirty—who’s the one to stand and who’s the one to kneel. And if she ever intended to get under your skin, well, she pushed the wrong button.

Jimin’s eyes slam shut, unlike her agape mouth through which you can see her tongue has lost its way, dragged here and there by the hand of her senses, overthrown by what you’re doing. You keep thrusting in and out at such a pace, every time making sure your balls hit her ass, filling her tight hole up ecstatically with no vacancy.

“Hah, god…! It’s me, I’m the lucky one! I’m so fucking lucky to have your big cock inside me!”

“Good. See, your act doesn’t last a day.”

Her lips tremble, as if about to cry, as if all the fucking around was just a pretense and she actually has to be under you. She bites the lower one but can’t hold the shiver down. 

You move your hand from Jimin’s neck to her face, grabbing her cheeks in one grip. You bring her face close to yours, both shaking to the orgasmic rhythm but never losing eye contact. Then you slap her cheeks, out of nowhere, just enough for the sound to be pleasurable but not too painful. Jimin starts to drool when you do that several times more, with loud, long moans gradually turning into screams.

“Oh, fuck, yes…! FUCK YES…!” Done with the hitting, you push in your fingers to Jimin’s unsilent mouth to get a better hold of her body. A teardrop leaves her glossy eyes and rolls down to where her ear is. A perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, both of which makes you two forget about tomorrow.

“I’m cumming, Jesus! I-I… Fucking cummi-“ Jimin’s back viciously arches so upward that you almost slip out. Her arms don’t seem to settle for a while before they dig into your back to work as anchors, her body vulnerable in the midst of a destructive swirl of pleasure. But that’s none of your concern as you make the haze in her head threaten her consciousness.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You wait for Jimin to come down but that’s so silly of you to do so; your ravageous ramming cock never lets her. All of a sudden you pull out, causing Jimin to shake immensely, and flip her on all fours. Her sex is glistening and the other hole is too, both of them slick with her juices and constricting irregularly.

When Jimin feels your cock rub on her pussy she collapses onto the mattress, only her ass up and her face down, exhausted on the bed, faced to the right. But whenever your cock teases her other hole Jimin shudders, toes curl and her fists try to tear your sheets at the sensation of her asshole getting stimulated.

“Agh, fuck…” You don’t warn Jimin when you insert the head of your cock inside her tight ass. This time even you can’t handle the pleasure of its tremendous tightness as you shut your eyes and groan loudly.

“Holy fuck, Jimin, this is so tight,” You tell her when you’re halfway in. Her body stays still, but her hands ball up and her toes curl until they all become pale. Every inch deeper inside her ass is the moment for you to admire the transcendental tightness you’ve never experienced from those other girls you have been through. Maybe you’re lucky too, to have found this perfect body with nothing to lament on.

“Oh, please, that’s deep! Fuck my ass deep just like-oh my fucking god!” Your reaction is quick—it’s more of a reflection though—doing more than what Jimin asked even before she finishes her words, beginning the mindless assfuck with such a carefree pace. You bring her powerless head up with your hand wrapped around her neck, tight, choking her again. The tighter you grip, the tighter her ass gets. You catch a glimpse of the crooked corner of her lips, which only fuels your inner engines to work even harder.

It’s just your thing; when you see a smile, you have to break it. You destroy it, and you sincerely cherish it when it’s gone.

As you reach your maximum speed Jimin’s distorted smile subsides and an even more euphoric look spreads. Mouth open wide, drooling down her chin and onto your hand on her throat, eyes open but white. As if she muted herself, Jimin doesn’t even breathe—not only because of your grip, but also the orgasm building up as fast as how you ram her ass. You grin at the sight of Jimin drowning in the sensations her own nerves convey; you create. It kills you how small her body is, when you can witness a simple—yet ruthless—piston to her crotch can dye her whole skin red, travel electrically to everywhere in no time, shrinking every minimal muscle. You release her, she falls down limp on the bed and screams at the anal orgasm hitting her, threatening her consciousness.

“Ahh! Fuck, fuck…!” You’re nowhere far from your own end, either. Your breath shallows down at the crazy tightness of Jimin’s orgasming ass. 

“Jimin, I’m cumming…!” You do. You reach as deep inside her anal cavern as you can and unload your cum, mind blowing pleasure coursing through every corner of your body. You shoot, and shoot, and shoot. Jimin clenches her hole for your cum to be deposited inside her with a lazy hum, in harmony with your groan seeping out of your gritted teeth.

It takes a few minutes for your breaths to find the normal speed. “No one’s fucked my ass this amazing,”

It surely was enough to bring amazement, undoubtedly the best you’ve had so far. You sit up and rearrange her hair for her.

“Did I pay for it?“ Jimin’s already got that bright smile back, and after such an extreme sex your barriers collapse in front of her, as you smile back at her.

“Very much.”

“Can you get my phone? It’s in my skirt.” You head to the pile of discarded clothes and do it for Jimin, who’s sitting on the bed with her head resting on the headboard. You toss it on the bed.

Jimin looks into her phone right away, scrolls down mindlessly and looks at you, who’s naked and standing next to the bed.

“Take a shower first, baby.”

Baby, she said.

Your eyes dart to hers immediately. Your face stays placid but you know Jimin knows you’re not at all used to it. You never really allow any strings attached with the ones you fuck; it’s a rather body-to-body entanglement than something emotional. But you’re surprised at how that word fits comfortably between you two. There’s something different. You look back at Jimin but her attention is taken by her phone already, again like a hit-and-run truck, but not completely as you can see her smirk the way you love. So you just enter the bathroom. 

In the shower you review the past 30 minutes—you had sex with the girl Yoo Jimin: nothing special. But not just that; Jimin has by far the best body of all the other girls you’ve experienced. You can tell you really enjoyed it today. You can tell she’s worthy of continuing the relationship. You like the way Jimin turns from a bubbly, sassy girl in school to a begging, screaming mess in bed under you. And the way she calls you baby—it dulls all your edges like a cup of boiling water would do to an ice cube. Just like the hot water pouring on your head.

You come out of the shower and see Jimin smoking on your bed, sitting on the edge with her legs crossed, elbow on her thigh, still aesthetically naked. She looks gorgeous like that. You walk to her, take the cigarette from her hand to your mouth. Then push her down on the bed, breathe the smoke in deep and throw the shortened cigarette away to the bin next to bed, breathe out, and share a smoky kiss.

A few moments later your rod pokes at her belly and Jimin parts away with a giggle.

“Fuck, I really have to clean my body.” You bring her off the bed with you. “Shut up and get down here,” With a smirk she does, and as soon as she adjusts her legs and position you shove your cock in her mouth. A gag earned.

But after that Jimin takes your big cock pretty well, without gagging or looking uncomfortable, even when her nose crashes on your crotch; you’ve found yourself a perfect girl, indeed.

“Nice.” Her teary eyes never leave yours throughout the session as you pace up for a brief finish. Adjusting to the speed of your cock moving entirely in and out, Jimin’s hands go up to the back of your thighs for firmer grip.

Jimin’s drool tickles down your balls and forms a small puddle on the floor. With the filthiest slurping sound Jimin bobs her head at the beat of your cock sliding through. Whenever her delicate tongue presses onto the underside of your cock you throb inside her mouth, making her head slightly move simultaneously.

Jimin’s tears meet the drool on her chin, and with a sound of her voice from her throat Jimin taps your thighs for you to pull out. You take your cock out of her mouth and slap it on her fucked face a few times, painting her face with her own saliva, to her liking.

“Finish it.”

Put the shower aside, and you shower Jimin with your lust deep into her throat. You feel your legs not far from giving in, but thankfully your cock is just the same, due to what Jimin is doing under you.

“Jimin, I’m-I’m close.”

Jimin starts to fondle your balls and that certainly helps you cross the line. In no time you fill her throat up white, and the room with your satisfied groan.

You look straight into Jimin’s eyes when you cum, and it’s astonishingly reciprocated when she gulps down your load quickly, professionally. As soon as you are done pouring into Jimin she stands up, showing you her clean tongue with a tilt of her head, and heads to the bathroom. You, left alone, giggle quietly and sprawl on the bed after putting on underwear. 

******

“Text me at lunch break. You know where to meet me.” You just nod at Jimin, who’s in one of your T-shirts that is just a little bit big for her; loss of all the buttons on her uniform comes at a cost. An inner beam blooms under your face when you find her just too perfect in that outfit of school skirt with your T-shirt tucked under it. Those unhidden bra lines count as one of many reasons for you to stare at her, take her in your arms right now and-

“Not now, perv.” Her smirk lets yours surface up to reciprocate hers. You stand up from the bed, approach her and walk her backwards to the wall. Jimin has been playful and relaxed with you and you like it. But when you—just like right now—detect submission in her eyes: you love it. You don’t stop your hand from rising up for her neck and have a good grip around it. You don’t stop the other from being pulled away to her gracious tits and squeezing them.

“Not now?” And there are those big eyes begging for you to go further, that bitten lower lip asking for any contact, as if the one who just quipped ‘not now’ choked out. Always hits you differently when she just switches from a brat to a subby mess out of control.

Contradiction is the most normal of things when you have a tight grip over Jimin. Her reddening face gradually forms a thin smirk when your lips close in to hers. Her eyes close, lips part for a mind-numbing kiss—

“Not now.” You make a sudden pull back and release Jimin from your grip. She stumbles and almost collapses on the floor so you hold her in your arms. For the same purpose and then some, her arms rest on your shoulders and pull you in, only to be denied by your hand pushing her chest off of you, leaving Jimin just keeping a hungry gaze at your lips and whimpering “Please.”

You finish tying the necktie, bring your thumb up to her lips. As it sweeps over them Jimin lets her tongue coat your thumb with her saliva which could’ve blended perfectly with yours.

“To the spot at lunch break, Jimin. And ah,” You stand down and pull her panties down in one sway and she helps herself out of them by lifting her legs respectively. You toss it on the bed and rise up again, for your collarbone to match her height, for her to look up at you again.

“You don’t wear the same panties for two days straight, do you?” Jimin just nods quickly and tries to crush her lips on yours yet again. Seems like she wouldn’t care even if you made her go to school all nude, if she could just mix her tongue with yours right now. Her efforts to make you kiss her is visible to you; eyes so seductive yet not able to take themselves off of their foremost target, lips slightly open for her tongue to peek outside. Seeing that you just step back and prepare to leave for school with an unseen smirk.

“Let’s go.”

******

As anticipated, needy and untidy Yoo Jimin sends you a dozen pictures of her bare crotch under her skirt, saying ‘Want your fingers inside’, ‘Can’t wait for the lunch break.’ Those are to be left on read.

Morning classes fly by as the bell rings to announce the lunch break. The class rushes out for lunch, has a race among them with some of them even running like they have something to win. And amongst that crowd you head to the spot, to Yoo Jimin.

She’s there already waiting for you when you turn the last corner. Legs crossed, back on the brick wall and a half-spent cigarette between her lips, looking so delinquent there with that insanely short skirt and in the shirt you gave. She notices you, has a reet smile on her and throws the cigarette on the ground, and watches you approach her standing still. No immaterial words or acts are needed when you can just kiss those lips like they’re yours. The remnant of the cigarette a fume that makes you dive deeper into this trance her tongue and yours are building, you spontaneously get rid of her skirt and are met with the wet skin under it.

Your fingers taste her crotch, slowly rubbing around and poised for any further indulgence. Her hands are, on the other hand, hectic with your buttons and when they’re done they swiftly go down to your belt. Your pants drop to your ankles in no time with your underwear, and with your erect cock emancipated, Jimin detaches from the kiss and spits on your cock and spreads it.

It all happens so fast that you are still enraptured by the kiss and her tits in your palms, leaving so many treats unfelt to your body. The next second you are inside her, making it even headier for you to follow up.

“Fuck, I needed this.” Jimin grits. With no clue of downshifting she takes the shirt off, her bra to follow suit, and hooks her arms around your neck to stand the frantic sex she wants from you. And that happens right away, as your instinct drops the hammer for you to automatically thrust into her even before you find yourself moaning at the sensation of her inside.

You keep your eyes closed while wrecking her pussy despite the eye candy that is Yoo Jimin during sex, and suddenly you notice her teeth on your shoulder. It’s a pain that can make you grin, that can make you savor the feeling, even it gets even stronger, because now you know that when she bites, she cums. Her legs give in, and you know it by the weight of her arms around your neck. Her walls clench harshly and there’s a stream of her juice down your legs when she cums. Yoo Jimin is so tactile, and when she cums her whole body does, for yours to recognize, you don’t even have to hearken to know it. The auditory input hits your brain the last, the pearly, shaky yelp of the orgasming needy girl adds up to all the stimuli you are taking.

When she comes down you slow down, lazily reaching her cervix as she hums at it every time.

“Kiss me, baby.” You do. It’s saccharine to your tongue. Her tongue distraughtly moves around inside your mouth, some of the drool leaking onto her tits to make it even more impeccable. The gustation mesmerizes you into a rabid sex, this time for yourself to get off. No subduing, only upshifts lead the way as you turn her around, put it back in and lavish thrusts into her sex.

“Shit. Jimin, you’re so fucking perfect.” You’re not saying this again because she might not have heard it; you are repeating it like a low-functioning machine because you’re afraid you haven’t said it enough. And she can condone it—of course she can, it’s a compliment anyway—because she knows it already, because the feeling’s mutual. You say it several more times on the back of her neck, almost making it a tattoo, carving it in intaglio. Still deranged, Jimin is just screaming with her back arching to the sky and carotically facing the brick wall with her left cheek. The right side of her face is rosed up, and her eye has a glimpse of you, your wry face and the sweat-coated torso and shuts and she cums just like that. 

Her breaths are shallow, irregular, a gusty fluid squelches out of her pussy and the scene of her orgasm is intimidating your endurance, easily sending you to an orgasmic stupor and making you spurt out inside her with a gritted groan. 

“Jimin, I… God, fuck…!” To your overstimulated cock Jimin has her shrewd tongue on it, sealed with her lips. Makes your legs wobble, unmercifully agitating your mind with frenzy, but just until she clears your shaft up clean from the tabloid juices all over it.

“I loved it. Maybe we should make it daily.” Jimin rises up, with her skirt and your shirt in her hands and still breathing somewhat heavily. And the desecrated smile on her face is the coercion for you to wear one too, a copacetic one. Shirt on, a smoking cigarette between your fingers, you insinuate to her.

“Your panties are still on my bed, you know.” And she’s shrewd with it—has been from the very beginning—and purrs. “Mhmm, I’m going to go fetch it after school with you.”

Of course, is what your nods that follows says, and there’s my girl, says your zest-filled grin, looking at her back that walks out of the corner. It’s always that intrinsic sass you could simply, so simply kill for. Maybe a challenge for you, maybe a finesse for you to be benumbly trapped into. It’s your choice, and from some point on the latter looks dazzling to you; maybe you’re a person who just dyes so well, to a derogated girl who seemed to have taken everything you’ve given but turns out she just put you in the phantasma of her own stardust without you realizing it—you’ve lost it in her, somehow. And that’s bizarre: and you love it.

******

You’re standing at the bus stop, hands in your pocket and looking around to find your girl. When you do, you’re so surprised at how Jimin so stands out among all the crowd while doing nothing but just walk. Even from miles out you’re sure you’ll spot her in a second. The belle of the crowd, wherever she is. She’s not the tallest but still piques herself on her to-die-for aura like she blurs everyone out. As if she sensed the scrutiny, Jimin looks up from her phone, looks around and soon finds you looking at her. You hate to be seen so infatuated like this but you can’t help it, as your eyes meet hers and your face brightens up, half from seeing her and half at yourself caught like that.

“That happy to see me?” You don’t answer, just bring your hands to her crotch and check there’s no underwear blocking your way. A flick over her uncovered pussy earns you a shocked look.

“This is not your bedroom!” Jimin shouts in whisper, but not with caution, but an intrigued grin with eyes darting around the crowd waiting for the bus.

“Are you telling me to stop?” You take your fingers to her mouth, her tongue welcoming the taste of horniness coated all over your fingers. “I’m telling you not to stop.”

So your hand returns to her pussy. You’re rubbing, tapping on and hooking your fingers in, Jimin bites on her own fingers not to relinquish her scream. You hold her trembling body as steady as possible but you know that it’ll be absolutely normal if the people around you realize that you two are having a little fun explicitly in public. Everyone’s looking at you and Jimin in front of you, facing the same way as you and receiving that dirty fingering amongst so many audiences.

In a few minutes the bus is here, to show you only one vacant seat left. You take the seat and Jimin sits on your lap, facing backwards and hugging your neck. You resume the unholy yet entertaining fingering to the pretty moaning girl on your lap.

And you return to who you really are: you’re a gentleman yourself, with etiquette, with common decency, to pull Jimin’s head down on your shoulder to muffle her nasty sound on it. You know even the driver is looking at you through the mirror, but that’s because of her, not you; again, you’re making no noise, and Jimin in your embrace is the culprit of all the squeaky, watery, moaning noise, not you. 

“Quiet, Jimin.” Now her teeth dig into your skin, synchronizing with your fingers indulging into her wet, tight hole. You know what you’re doing won’t shut her up. You’re just saying it, a formality. Inside your mind you want her to moan loudly, at the same time want to see her struggle keeping it quiet. So you yank her hair back to watch her distorted face, observe every tiny wriggle of her expression.

“Ah…!” Look into her eyes as if wanting to pierce through them. Jimin looks at you too, flooding with lust, drowning in her own sensations of sex and embarrassment of being exposed in such a public situation. “I’m almost there.” It’s a plain text but she’s begging there. She says she’s almost there but she’s already there, as it seems.

“Yeah, we’re almost there.” A bump on the road makes your fingers hit her spot, makes her back arc, makes her almost, almost lose it right there. You pull out your fingers from her hot cavern to the relatively cool air of the bus. Her liquid feels fresh out in the air but that feeling is soon lost, by her tongue wrapping them up and sucking it clean—suckling it dirty.

The bus stops right then for only you and Jimin to get off. It’s much quieter than inside the bus, partially due to you not fingerfucking her anymore. In no time you’re at the door of your house, unlock it, swing open and it slams shut. Simultaneously Jimin hops on you and dive into your mouth with hers. You stumble through to your bedroom, toss her on the bed, swiftly undo your belt and pants with your boxers, let your already hard dick spring out but don't let it feel the air as it vanishes into Jimin’s waiting pussy right away.

No one speaks a word. No one can, to be fair. You two are merely inches away from dying, too impatient to wait another second. And there you let Jimin approach death a bit closer by holding her neck around, a perfect necklace for her, and straining your hand. Jimin’s mouth is open, difficulty in breathing so visible, face reddening but there’s still her hunger in it; she grins. Her smile is so cruel, violent, so evil yet joyful, as if she’s the victimizer and you’re the victim.

“Please, baby… Kill me. Fucking choke me to death, please, choke me and kill me-fuck!” You make her scream when you slap her tits, as if you were angry at her, but you’re the opposite—you love her so much that you just want to abuse her, to her liking, just like right now. All her sensations seem to evaporate as her eyes roll back and her hands drop to her sides spiritlessly: or, airlessly. You let her go, not wanting to actually kill her.

With a giant inhale Jimin returns from the border of unconsciousness. Her hands travel from her own tits, your hands, and soon back to the sheets, still wandering in need for anything to release the tension. So you pin down her wrists and pace up your thrusts.

“Fuck, Jimin. Don’t tempt me. You make me really want to fuck you dead.” You’re saying it right on her face, which enables her to feel that you mean it. There she tries to kiss your lips, but you pull back with agility, instead covering her mouth and nose with your palm, again suffocating her to your liking, to your loving, to your abnormal, psychopathic obsession.

“I want to see you struggle for life. I want to see you beg for life. You’ll look so perfect like that.” Jimin screams into your hand, covers it with her saliva and tears. You close in with your other hand groping her tit and your cock hitting everywhere inside her squeezing cunt. Jimin’s eyes widen as her orgasm fades in, muffling “I’m cumming!” Several times on your palm before peaking like never before. Her orgasm never gives her the time to even shut her eyes as they roll into her head. Her scream penetrates your hand over her mouth as it departs on your ears so deliciously.

That’s what psychopaths do, isn’t it? To experience the catharsis washing over your spine and get off with how a person screams, all helpless, with tears, shallow breaths as if soon going to die, or at least pass out. Maybe it’s that she’s making it clear about who you are. Would be a pleasure to embrace it.

And it’s your turn now. You pull out, escaping Jimin’s spent pussy with quite an amount of her squirt, leaving her all trembling and arching. There’s a layer of sweat all over her body and it makes it look like a scene from any pornography. Jimin doesn’t move a bit-only her chest is heavily healing up and down, even after you flip her upside down.

You tease her asshole with your middle finger and when she senses it enter she helps you by spreading her cheeks for deeper insertion. No resistance in and out of her ass. Every curl inside her ass makes Jimin squeeze her own cheeks as a response with a powerless moan. “Mmm, fuck me please… I’m not done yet.” Of course. You grin and prepare your cock for the second entrance as you pull Jimin up on all fours. Her arms give up when you rub your glistening cock on her pussy lips. And her reason gives up when you penetrate her rear hole.

“Ahh-fuck yes!”

“Holy fuck. This is so tight.” Her tightness erases your patience to savor it slowly. You start ruining her ass with the intention of actually destroying it. Jimin frowns, loud moan seeping through the bitten lip, hands curling into fists but arms all powerless on her sides.

“It’s so good, it’s so fucking good…! Don’t stop it baby. Make me cum like a fucking whore…!” Her voice can’t even get louder when her words just melt on the mattress just like her. Her words turn to nothings, eyes squeeze shut, concentrating all her senses to where she’s getting fucked. You feel your eyelids become heavier every single thrust, but the visual pleasure is just too good to give up watching it-her ass up for you to fuck it senseless, narrow waist contrasting her wide hips so aesthetically. The cherry on top is the expressions on her gorgeous face which you can’t quite read. Just like when all colors mixed makes pitch-black, her facial wrinkles and twitches are the perfect mixture of all pleasure, ecstasy that you can’t tell what she’s feeling at this moment.

“Nngh!” Actually, you can. Jimin is orgasming so hard, clear—dirty—liquid pumping out of her empty pussy to flood the mattress. Her ass squeezes your cock too hard for you to move in and out as fast as before without blasting every drop in her climaxing ass hole.

So you park it deep in her contracting hole, stay there, and shut Jimin’s moaning mouth with yours. She doesn’t care—or she doesn't acknowledge—and keeps screaming for her life even after her peak has washed over. A few dozen seconds pass, she calms down to at least breathe regularly when you stand your torso up to resume the session.

“You… You have to cum…” As if she even cares for you instead of her own pleasure. You know she just wants more overwhelming orgasm only you can deliver, and you are no different. There’s something about this body, these tits, the voice, this face, this pussy, this ass; there really is something about Yoo Jimin. Without your knowledge you are humping her like a villain, mad, but with a grin that’s so dangerous that Jimin mirrors. Your hand already made itself home around her neck, a red mark of it pressing hard inevitable, tears rolling down along her side face.

“I’m going to fill you up, Jimin.” And with a sharp inhale you begin wrecking her inside. A gut-rearranging pounding is what her perfect ass deserves and she can’t even open her eyes properly-either one stays closed against her will, rolling up to see that there’s nothing inside her head.

“Fuck! Please, please, please, please… Gah, I’m- Again…!” How impatient. There’s not even a point for you to call a flaw. Immoral, impatient, vulgar, dirty… She’s all too perfect. And you’re sure that’s why you cum so hard, like never before.

A nasty pair of voices fill each other’s brain as you two cum. You lower your body, forehead on hers and eyes on hers, looking through those teary orbs as you feel yourself bursting out gregariously. No words but loud pants bridge your sensations to each other, and until the last spurt you don’t even blink in order to see Jimin go through her own orgasm.

That’s it; it’s been your undesirable sadistic desire that kept you on fire, and when you have saturated it it flips out of your head, making it empty—there hasn’t been anything other than that. When you’re done completely you let Jimin go from your glare, sit on the edge next to her gasping body. Your urge is swept off so cleanly, and you can see how dirty it was by the mess on your bed.

“Are you alright?” You ask, but looking up at the ceiling, not Jimin. You don’t turn your head but can already sense her looking at you. “You’re just so perfect.” Selfishly she doesn’t answer. And you hear the smirk in her words. You make one on your face too, hearing that, stand up, face her and find Jimin overloading your vision with how she gorgeously lies down there, making even all the nasty things complement her perfection.

“I’ll shower. Just don’t fall asleep on the bed. It’s dirty.” You tell Jimin, all helpless and powerless on the bed and panting like she just had the best sex in her life. The lustful girl who was begging for you to kill her is nowhere to be found; instead there’s a weak, short of breath, vulnerable and lithe angelic devil with your cum gushing out of her ass. As if a few more touches and she’d actually evaporate.

In the shower you barely feel the water on your body, so distracted by your own thoughts—your own thoughts but in the grabs of Yu Jimin. The exact same as yesterday, you are showering yourself with your shocked, strange feelings in the shower after sex that simply blew your mind.

It's just that she's too good. Too good to call it a hook-up, too good to make it only an occasional sex. The way she craves your cock, the way she begs for your violence, the way she’s so desperate for extreme orgasms under your hold. It’s the first time for you to smile just by thinking of a girl, especially when you’re such a harsh and rough type of a person even you’d admit. She’d let you hit her. She’d let you choke her, let you fuck her, destroy her—let you love her.

Then the door opens, a small, pale figure of female comes in, walks slowly through the mist of the hot water. Jimin stops in front of you, legs barely holding there, face buried on your chest and her arms locked around your neck to support her lithe body but they barely do. You move a little backward to let her more of the hot water.

As if all the water got into your veins, you feel your heart burn. Just look at her—legs all wobbly, barely standing, too exhausted to even look up at you, her hands at the back of your neck irregularly stroking the back of your head as if signaling she’s at least perceiving things properly. You put a hand on her back and spread the water on it, and that’s when she lifts her head and meets your eyes. 

Weak and lethargic like a candlelight in front of a tsunami, Jimin is barely standing there with low moans whenever her legs wobble and give up. Her arms tighten around your neck as one of yours hug her back so that she doesn’t collapse. Her face is right beneath yours, tilted up to face yours. Those eyes can’t avoid looking at your lips, which is just what you’re doing to her unashamedly.

Your hand climbs up to the back of her head. Regardless of that you and Jimin are exchanging such a strong yet soft, intense yet loving eyelock. It is an atypically genial moment and if you look back at this moment you might throttle yourself. She should know it by now, from the visible, audible changes on you. 

(Maybe you were afraid. Or beyond that. Love was what your fears were afraid of. Doesn’t quite make sense to say that you have fears, but anyways, you didn’t want, nor expect a couple nights to escalate to an actual romance.)

Minutes pass, and pass, and—and pause, when you pull her a bit into your arms and make a soundless, yet seismic kiss. Lips lock. Two pairs of lips open and a pair of tongues make contact, hug each other just like you two. Her hands snake into your hair, your head in her hands and deeper into the kiss. You two have even forgotten to breathe as the liplock continues for what feels like a lifetime, to complete the kiss of your life. When you try to pull back Jimin lunges a bit forward not to break the kiss, and you let your system suffocate a few dozen seconds more. 

“You’re so beautiful, Yu Jimin.” You finally tell her this. Not the literal confession of love but she gets it with the bewitching smile she always wears like nothing. Never been in love, you feel like you’re sent back to childhood, pure and intact, but that feeling is shattered into pieces when her hand finds your hardened cock poking at her belly.“Is that why you’re so hard, baby?” This time, the word ‘baby’ sounds so right with a lip bite of your lover and with a lust-filled grin on you. Her thumb slides on the underside of the tip, almost making you stumble back.

“Yes. Just like you’re always horny because of me.”  With a smirk you turn her around, bend her over so that her hands are on the wall, and put your cock in in one stroke. Jimin helplessly loses all the strength in her legs and falls but you're prudential enough not to let her. It's to the point where she's just hanging from your arms when you kindle the movement. Her skin looks even more satin with the water so you collar her and go on. You can't stop when the biggest impetus is jonesing for it. No choice but to harden the grip on her throat.

Jimin is flaccid on the wall, fingers fumbling on and desperately digging themselves on it with her head facing down. You are never going to unbind her until she falls into a stupor. “Baby I… I fucking love it so deep…! Use me just like that…” She can't let it out loud and soon loses all voice, raises her head, brings yours right beside hers and kisses you. And a feeling that this is the requital for your disclosure makes it compulsory to reciprocate it poignantly. Her hand guides one of yours to her tits, pushes it hard on it to make you squeeze them and soon the convulsions agitate through her body. Her orgasmic screams reverberate through your throat, which is also moaning out of the pleasure congesting your mind. 

When the kiss breaks her yelps stifle the smacking and squelching. You have no idea if it’s your heartiness or just overstimulation from before the shower, but her voice sounds so giddy she might just hit the floor all limp. The burgeoning pleasure conglomerates into a derogated vertigo, the unbearable sensations stack up in your spines and Jimin’s wringing walls really doesn’t help you push it down. Her eyes tell you—because her mouth can’t right now—she’s only a couple thrusts away from coming undone, tantamount to what’s threatening to blow your mind, break down your nerves.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming…!” A tautology that is so understandable. You help her, add to the pleasure by choking her. Her moans permeate to your hand through her throat and the foul secretion of her orgasm flows down her legs with the water pelting down on your bodies. Jimin fumbles on the wall with her fingers, too herring-gutted to digest the deray.

“Jimin. Yu Jimin. I’m coming too-fuck…!” When Jimin hears her name she hums, and when she feels the warmth coat her walls she buckles, arches her back to beckon your lips and jockeys her tongue between them. In less than a minute however she pulls back, due to lack of air, because of your chokehold, and pants in your face, with a pejorative smile, but no sign of mannerism—you all know, that smile that follows after an exquisite sex—her sheer feelings carved in it, and you willingly mirror it as a beck of mutuality.

******

A rather huge thing is settled. Sitting on the edge of the bed together, with a cigarette between your fingers for each, you recount your history: the reason you moved, your personality, your sex life being like this. All of them, however, converge to her, Yu Jimin, weirdly enough for you who just can’t concede any feelings involved, which sounds like a monolithic psychopath which actually might be who you are.

Well, a little bit of romance couldn’t kill, could it? You think, lying next to Jimin and slowly closing your eyes to fall-

“You haven’t said it yet.”

“Say what?”

“You only said I’m beautiful.”

“And?”

“I know there’s something more. You know there’s something more.”

There you fail to hold out the chuckle.

“I don’t know what you’re-“

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to be shy about it,”

Jimin mischievously giggles. You know you can’t just laugh it off, and you won’t. That intricate feeling that tickles, but is not transient.

With a somnolent voice, you placidly say, like a tagline of a tragedy—or a comedy.

“Love you, Jimin.”

Her grin infiltrates her words hearing it.

“That’s it, my boy. Love you too.”

******

[honeykaes]

three rounds

boxer!wriothesley x reader II 3.0k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, boxer! au, modern au, blood, fighting (boxing), rough sex, wriothesley picks reader up, standing full nelson, semi-public sex, creamipes, fingering, overstimulation, dacryphilia, dumbification, childhood friends to lover, secret dating, mention of the criminal justice system, implied family abandonment, unedited

synopsis: you and wriothesley had been best friends for ages. you were there when he broke ties with his rich family, when he failed the police academy and now in his success in the boxing ring. this will be the match to decide if he earns the belt and he wants his cheerleader, whom he's secretly dating, to be there in the front seat to witness it.

The glare from the bright white spotlights made you squint and lift your hand up. Black spots littered your vision as you adjusted and stared down at the ring in front of you. Crowds surrounded the entire ring, cheering and yelping in delight excited for the match getting ready to begin.

This was the final match to determine who received the golden belt any professional boxer in England clawed their way to attain. To get it, they would have to rip it out of the claws of the previous boxing champion, Attainer. This would be no easy feat, but you knew that would not stop him from achieving his goal.

“Now we have the underdog, quite literally! Can we get some noise for the newbie with attitude Wriothesley!” the announcer yelled out from the speakers. As soon as he was introduced, the crowd’s noise grew louder, admiring the man coming out. His short black hair was as scruffy as ever, adorned with streaks of gray he insisted wasn’t from age. His eyes, piercing icy blue, looked to the crowd in determination as he lifted his arm up waving to them and a lopsided smirk.

He was extremely muscular wearing his scars littering throughout his chest, neck, and face with pride. As he slung under the ropes of the rings, he gazed at the crowd once more as they cheered—eyes scanning for someone until they settled on their own. His eyes softened and his smirk grew, winking over to you as your heart fluttered.

“Oh my god! He actually noticed me! This is the best day ever!” a girl cheered behind you. You chuckled to yourself fighting the urge to turn around and spoil her fun. No one in the ring would know that look was for you, and you alone.  

You and Wriothesley have been together for a few years now. You were there when he was at rock bottom and you would be there when he finally took the heavens or himself.

“Round one! Fight!”

You knocked on the shabby door, hearing banging from the other side as your heart pumped in your chest in anxiety. Wriothesley had been avoiding your calls all day since he got out of prison and was under probation. 

“Wriothesley! Open the door!” you yelled out. No response came except for the constant sound of smacking. Your hand grabbed on the handle turning it only for the door to crack open. A yelp escaped your lips watching a cockroach scutter across the floor into the hallway from the hallway. Cursing silently to yourself and surprised Wriothesley still didn’t say anything, you closed the door looking over to see the barren studio apartment.

There was hardly anything in the tiny space beside a mattress that was directly on the floor with some blankets thrown across it, a large bean bag chair to the side, and a large punching bag swinging in the middle of the room. The sound of smacking echoed out once more as Wriothesley continued to punch it, still not facing you.

Earbuds were placed in his ears, your sounds must've been drowned out by how loud he was playing his music. You slowly approached him, calling out his name once more as he continued to ignore you. With a sigh, you placed your hand on his back. He immediately tensed up and he turned around. 

He scowled over to you, frowning prominent on his lips. Bags were under his eye, a fresh cut seemed to linger there too. He must’ve got it before getting out of prison. Your eyes softened in pity and Wriothesley took his earbuds out and sighed.

“Are you okay? You’ve been ignoring me for days since you got out,” you murmured. Wriothesley grumbled under his breath and sighed, wiping the sweat clinging to his brow. He must’ve been exercising for a while now.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to always check on me like you did when we were kids. I’m not the little rich kid trying to understand public school anymore…” Wriothesley muttered. You clinged your tongue, rolling your eyes at his response.

“Yeah, you’re not, which is why I don’t know why you are acting like a kid and avoiding me. We're friends. You got arrested and kicked out of the police academy, of course I want to check in with you and make sure you’re okay. Shit sucks, understatement of the year, but I want to help you through this,” you replied. He doesn’t respond and looks away, eyes narrowing in shame. Your eyes flickered down to his ankle bracelet, blinking. It will be six months before it’ll come off and he'll be free from it.

“Please can you just…” you sighed, “You don’t need to carry all of this by yourself. I’m not going to abandon you no matter how many times you try to push me out. We are in this together. I promised that to you before and I mean it now.”

Wriothesley remained quiet walking over to his mattress before collapsing on him, the springs creaking loudly as they adjusted to the new weight. 

“Frankly, I’m not sure why you seem so adamant about staying beside me. Why? Do you got a crush on me or something,” Wriothesley murmured, covering his eyes with his hand. There was a pause as you struggled to say anything and simply looked away. Noticing you not saying anything, Wriothesley uncovered his face looking over at you in shock before it softened. A chuckle soon rattled throughout the tiny studio apartment.

“Ah, I guess that explains it then, huh?” he murmured, looking over to his hand covered in sports tape. He flexed his fingers, pondering the words he wanted to say to you as butterflies flew throughout your stomach. Was he going to send you out? Was he going to pretend you didn't say anything?

“...I don’t regret going to jail for what I did. I know what I did wasn’t wrong but naturally bastards with more money than me can get away with it and paint me as the villain to absolve them from their crimes,” he murmured getting up in front of you.

“I’m not going to let that stop me though,” he murmured. The pitter-patter of the rain outside hit the window as Wriothesley chuckled once more.

“London is like this, gloomy, gray with pricks who take advantage of the disadvantaged. This city eats up anyone they can. I don’t plan on being part of the menu. Something good will come out of all this shit…” he murmured. His fingers lifted your chin and a soft smile curled on his once serious expression.

“Besides, I think things are shaping up positively in some ways already. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Once his probation period ended, Wriothesley went to the gym often to clear his mind when he wasn’t working at his part-time contracting job. He wanted to join an amateur boxing ring, only for his skills to gain the attention of recruiters looking for more talent in the professional ring.

Signing on to a team and management, Wriothesley quickly flew through opponents. The crowd had deemed him as “Cerberus” for his scruffy yet handsome appearance along with his famous three-punch combo. 

It had been three years since you two started this journey and this match would show if it was worth it. 

“Ooh! The Attainer got a left hook to connect the frazzling crowd favorite! Can the doggie get out of this or will the beat finally get tamed!”

You snapped out of your thoughts, clenching your jaw seeing Wriothesley stagger from that hit. Blood began to dribble from his lip. A flash of anger shot through his eyes as he glowered at Attainer with frustration. As Attainer went for another blow, Wriothesley swiftly dodged to the left. Time for the final round was ticking down quickly, he’d need to make this count if he wanted to win.

Dodging another attack and seeing an opening, Wriothesley quickly rushed his gloved fist forward connecting it to the champion, Attainer. 

“One,” he muttered, drowned out by the deafening noise and muffled from his mouthguard. Seeing the opening swift to try to adjust, Wriothesley refused to let him, connecting another punch in the stomach to his opponent. Attainer gasped, the wind knocked out of him from the blow. 

“Two,” he grunted, dodging another desperate blow from Attainer. With one more opening he saw, Wriothesley went in again connecting his final blow to Attainer’s face.

“Three!” he grunted. Attainer staggered, body fumbling to the ground as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The referee sprung from outside the ring, smacking his hand down to the side of the opponent, counting those three numbers. Wriothesley stood to the side, chest gleaming in the stage light from his sweat as the crowd cheered in bewilderment and excitement. 

“TKO!!”

Roars of cheers echoed throughout the stadium. You couldn’t stop grinning, joining in the celebration as Wriothseley lifted his arm up signaling his victory against the champion. Flashes of light flickered off as press and camera from fans, sports journalists, and anyone wanting to gobble every opportunity and second, they could to get this shot. His eyes wandered to yours, smiling wide as you gave a small wave back.

As a camera quickly came into the ring, a microphone shoved in his face to conduct the first interview of the new champion, you slowly got up from your seat and the chaotic cheers of the stadium and headed to his private quarters in the locker room to wait for him. 

Thirty minutes went by before the door flew open and slammed shut as he entered. As soon as his eyes met yours, he walked up to you, arms wrapping you in a tight hug. You chuckled, wrapping your arms around Wriothesley’s torso, smelling the sweat wafting from him.

“I told you doll,” Wriothesley smirked, as you chuckled once more.

“You did!” you chimed with a wide smile. Wriothesley leaned in close, lips millimeters away from one another.

“And you know what I want more than anything,” he whispered, capturing your lips. His hands settled against your ass, squeezing the soft globes as you gasped, placing your hands on his. He massaged it, tapping it as he finally let your kiss go—a translucent string of saliva connecting your now glossy lips with his.

“W-What?! What if someone sees us? You built your reputation back up just to risk destroying it with a stupid scandal. ‘New champion has a partner caught fucking in the stadium!’ The press will eat us alive,” you stammered out. Wriothesley chuckled lowly, nibbling your earlobe.

“If they give me shit, who cares? It’s my managers who thought it best to keep our relationship a secret. I should get to celebrate how I see fit. They get their win and I get you, everyone’s happy,” Wriothesley whispered, grinding his hardening cock against your leg. You sighed at his response.

“What am I going to do with you,” you muttered. You gasped as Wriothesley smacked his palm down on your ass —the sting of dull pain shooting through your body.

“Fuck me, that’s what.”

Wriothesley brought his lips down to yours once more, the adrenaline from the match still coursing through his veins. He takes his shorts off, heavy cock popping up and rolling against his chiseled abdomen. It lulled to the side against his black happy trail, flushed tip already budding with precum as veins pulsated throughout the thick flesh.

You lowered yourself on your knees, grabbing onto his length as he sucked a sharp breath in. You smeared the precum, finger playing with his sensitive tip. You pumped a few times before opening your mouth and taking him into your mouth. The familiar salty taste of sweat and precum hit your tongue as you bobbed your head.

“Aww, giving me a little reward? You shouldn’t have,” he teased, grabbing a fistful of your hair. Your tongue swirling along the tip, sucking hard as Wriothesley’s body shuttered and hips slightly faltered. His nails dug into his thick thighs, trying to contain himself as you continued to suck and swirl against him.

“That’s it. Open up a little wider for me lovely,” he murmured, using his other hand to tap at your throat. He used the grip he had on your hair to sink you further down his cock. You fought the urge to gag, but he had trained your throat to fight against the feeling. You soon completely had his entire length down your throat, nose brushing against the thick hair of his bush.

He pulled them away, as an audible pop echoed throughout the small room while you caught your breath. Drool leaked from the side of your mouth, eyes watching as Wriosthelsey continued to jerk at his cock. It twitched in his grasp.

“Open your mouth for me like the good doll you are,” he murmured. You obeyed, opening your mouth wide as a low groan ripped from his lips, tip hovering over it. Globs of cum shot from him, falling on your tongue as you resisted the urge to spit or swallow. His hips shuttered, bucking a few times before he finally began to soften and leaned over wiping some that managed to spill out on the corner of your lips.

“Swallow for me…” he cooed. His smirk widened watching your throat bobbed as you did, trying not to shiver from the taste. 

“So good for me. Get up. I think it’s time for the spotlight to be shared,” he murmured as you got on your feet. His hands gripped your bottoms pulling them down and onto the ground, before your underwear went with it. He haggardly popped a few buttons off from your blouse, showing off a bit of your chest to him. You could feel him beginning to grow against your thigh. 

“Wriothesley!” you yelled out, as he lifted you up. His hardening cock slides against your drooling slit, gathering up the slick clinging onto your cunt. He does this growing harder before he’s finally fully erected once more. Wriothesley hooked his forearm against the back of your knees and leaned against the wall before he sank into the warmth of your cunt—roughly plunging inside of you.

You moan in surprise at the position, your body bouncing from his quick thrusts. Objects hung on the wall bang to his pace as the sound of smacking skin reverberated throughout the locker room. 

He finally put one of your legs down, in the process reaching deeper inside of you as your body jolted in pleasure. With his now free hand, he moved his palm striking your needy clit—the shock of the pain and pleasure caused your walls to flutter down on his cock, as he groaned in delight.

“You like that, I felt just how tight you gripped me just now,” he cooed, nibbling against your neck. His fingers continued to toy with your clit, rubbing tight circles and occasionally smacking his fingers down on it. Your body shivered at the simulation he was giving you, cock brushing against the spot that made you see stars.

“Fuck! Wriothesley. There, there! There!” you babbled out, tears beginning to prick your eyes.

He shifted his position and grip on you, turning you around so your back was to the wall and keeping you up with one hand gripping tightly against your ass. Your legs had instinctively wrapped around his waist, allowing him to rut against that spot with more precision. His eyes lingered on your chest, admiring the flash of your pebbled nibble that would greet him with every bounce of your body.

His hand grasped your jaw, his blunt nails digging to the sides of it,

“Gonna cum for me? Yeah?” he murmured, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip as you rapidly nodded, tears beginning to cascade down your face. He grunted, feeling your walls cave in making it harder to continue to buck inside of you.

“Show me how good a champion’s cock is then,” he grunted. With more nodding and babbling of his name, your eyes rolled to the back of your head—body arching as you finally reached your high, shivering in pleasure.

Wriothesley pistoning his hips sloppier, let out a low moan of your name before shutting his eyes and connecting his lips with your own. His hips faltered, ropes of cum spilling inside of you and filled you to the brim with his essence.

Lifting his head up, he chuckled noticing your fucked-out and tired expression moving your body in his arms before placing you down on the couch. He admired your chest slowly rising from your chest, eye makeup messed up and smeared from your tears.

“Sorry, was that too much for you,” he murmured with a smile, leaning down to kiss your forehead. He went over and put his shorts on, tucking his softening cock beneath it. You groaned, lolling your head to the side as Wriothesly approached you again. His cum was beginning to leak down your thighs. He couldn’t stop himself from pumping two fingers into your overly sensitive cunt, pushing his cum back inside of you as you whimpered at the sensation.

“Don’t worry. Just rest here and we can leave afterward for dinner, if you’re still up for it that is,” Wriothesley murmured. A knock on the door caught his attention as he got up and walked over to the door, cracking it so your form was completely hidden by his stature. He scowled, only for his gaze to turn to shock seeing Clorinde, his manager glare at him. She let out a side, crossing her arms.

“Next time you plan on fucking your partner, please do it when I don’t need something in the locker room, that is not ours I’d like to add, and have to wait elsewhere until you’re done to do so. The papers are on the table, I expect to see them on Friday when you show up for our press briefing,” she grumbled before walking away.

Wriothesley chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“My bad, Clorinde…”

[starglitterz]

♡ SPICY. // PART ONE

❝ ‘cause i’m too spicy for your heart, ring the fire alarm! ❞ // attractive things the genshin men do

✧ feat ; al-haitham, ayato, childe, cyno, diluc, heizou, kaeya, thoma, wriothesley, xiao x gn!reader

✧ warning(s) ; fluff, suggestive, implied kamisato!reader for thoma’s, reader is shorter than ayato for his part, modern au for wriothesley, traveller!reader for xiao’s

✧ a/n ; yeah yeah i’m a slut we all know that already let’s move on 🙄 /lh i was brainrotting sm LOL i hope u guys enjoy! 

part one︱info︱part two

please reblog + leave comments ! it helps a lot w motivation <3

✦ “are you listening?” AL-HAITHAM’s voice cuts through your messy thoughts and you scramble for your pen to scribble some nonsense and at least pretend you were concentrating. your eyes are glued to the paper in front of you, too embarrassed to meet his gaze after what you were daydreaming about him. without warning, he uses his index finger to tilt your chin up to face him with a curt “pay attention.” his green irises bore into yours, scanning them as if to discover why you haven’t been focusing and the intensity of his gaze makes heat rise to your cheeks. his actions clearly result in the opposite of the desired effect though, because it’s made you ten million times more distracted, too busy thinking about your tutor doing things that certainly aren’t academic.  

✦ there’s definitely something in the way that AYATO leans down to hear you better. it’s a simple gesture, but when he bends down to listen to what you’re saying, it proves that he’s putting in the effort to continue the conversation and is genuinely interested in your chatter. or even if it’s something like leaning against the door frame, a reminder of how idiotically tall he is, it always gets your heart beating quicker and you lose your train of thought. but maybe he isn’t as clueless as you think he is, because the smirk playing about his lips as he admires your flustered expression while you stumble over your words definitely says otherwise. 

✦ sometimes when you see CHILDE’s idiotic smirk, it takes everything in you not to punch it off his face. however, when he’s in the heat of battle, the way his lips curl just so as he lifts an eyebrow at his opponent daringly, almost as if he’s asking them “you really think you can defeat me?” you’d rather punch him with your lips. the sheer confidence he exudes as he fights, the casual manner with which he switches his bow to his hydro polearm, the easy grin dancing about his mouth – it’s incredibly attractive. 

✦ it shouldn’t be a big deal, but whenever CYNO wraps his arms around your waist from behind to pull you into his embrace, you swear your heartbeat accelerates to the speed of light. he’ll rest his chin on your shoulder too, and if he’s feeling mischievous (which is practically all the time), he’ll tilt his head ever so slightly so he’s at the perfect angle to press fleeting kisses against your neck. you can almost feel his smile against your skin as you shiver from the sensation of his warm lips. 

✦ DILUC is not one for grand public displays of affection. you don’t mind, you’re fine with it, but one day another patron at the angel’s share keeps flirting with you, and suddenly you feel the winery owner beside you, one arm snaking around your waist almost possessively. “it’s nice to meet you,” he murmurs to the other man in a tone icy enough to freeze over hell. his fingers tap a steady rhythm against your hips and you feel like his touch is branding you through the layers of fabric. it evidently gets the message across because the poor customer leaves immediately with his tail between his legs, and all DILUC does is squeeze your waist lightly and press a soft kiss on your forehead as a hint of a smug smile curves his lips. 

✦ being a genius detective and also just being really annoying are certainly not mutually exclusive, as HEIZOU continues to prove every single day. case in point; the way he’s proudly walking around the tenryou commission, the array of wine-coloured bruises you left on his neck last night blatantly out for display. the other inazumans who notice look scandalized, while kujou sara seems dangerously close to bursting a blood vessel. “heizou!” you hiss, pulling him into a secluded corner to scold him, “why didn’t you wear a scarf or something?!” the detective merely gives you his trademark grin and winks playfully, “why should i? it’s a mark of your love, i wouldn’t want to hide it~”

✦ one thing’s for certain whenever you talk to KAEYA – he will give you his undivided attention. you love that about him, but sometimes his piercing gaze is almost distracting, the varied shades of sparkling blue a stark contrast to the matte black leather of his eyepatch and often making you veer wildly off-track to whatever you’re telling him about. it only worsens when you catch his stare sometimes drifting to your lips, but he’ll shake his head as if jolting himself out of a reverie before he continues looking at you and nodding like he’s been paying attention this entire time. and if you call him out on it, he’ll just raise both hands in surrender, “sorry, babe, i can’t help it – you just look so kissable when you’re talking!”

✦ THOMA is an absolute softie, always making your favourite foods and spoiling you as the housekeeper of the kamisato clan. it makes sense that you’ve never realised just how strong he actually is. but then you catch a glimpse of him one evening after a long day’s work, and as he lifts up the edge of his shirt to wipe the glistening sweat off his face you think you could collapse. the gesture exposes his toned abdomen, muscles clenching as he lets out a soft groan, and the only coherent thought running through your mind is; why has he been hiding this the entire time?! maybe it’s time for you to switch the kamisato housekeeper uniform to a crop top… 

✦ WRIOTHESLEY is a gentleman who’ll never let you take a cab home alone, especially not after a long night out in the city. but as he’s pulling up to your house, your thoughts are definitely nowhere near appreciating how sweet he is, rather you’re admiring how close his muscled arms are to your face while his hand is on the back of your seat as he turns to check the rear mirror. from the passenger seat, you get the perfect view of his side profile, his chiseled features, the barely visible trace of stubble on his chin, his stormy gray eyes… he’s like the dark male lead of every romance manhwa. and when he catches you looking, he gives you a smile that’s almost teasing, “like what you see, beautiful?” 

✦ even though XIAO is the one who’s supposed to teleport to you whenever you call his name, you can’t help but find yourself gravitating towards him whenever he says yours. it must be how he utters it, softly, lovingly, almost reverent in his gentleness as if you’ll shatter before his eyes if he whispers it even a decibel louder. and sure, he calls you by several petnames (butterfly, dove), but the way your name slips past his lips like a prized jewel will always be your favourite. sometimes it feels as if your name is going to be worn out from how often people use it, begging you to help them with miscellaneous tasks and pushing you to exhaustion. but during those late nights at wangshu inn as you rest in his embrace, he whispers your name as if it’s a secret for just the two of you and the stars and you can’t help but think how lucky you must have been to be born with such a pretty name, created for your adeptus lover to murmur with so much affection lacing his tone. 

GRR i lowk love this... hope yall do too! don't forget to check out part 2 when it's published as well <3

© starglitterz 2023. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !

[evielmostdefinitely]

slightly odd request but i’ve LOVED cold tonight and the others in the mini series and i was wondering if you could write something where reader gets into a disagreement with the caption wife of a politician snow HATES and reader does everything correct and is ‘well behaved’ for snow so when he gets her home she sort of breaks down in concern he’ll punish her and she’s worrying he’s mad at her but instead he just comforts her and tells her how good she is etc etc , maybe some praising smut if you fancy ? totally ok if it’s not your cup of tea !!!!

bitter cold |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested above :)

contains: alludes to dom/sub themes but not super heavy. possessive, dark snow. reader gets hurt (not by snow). slight smut at the end but not super graphic.

“Mrs. Snow,” The snarl in her tone, you could practically picture the baring teeth, lips pursed in a forced smile that resembled more of a grimace waiting behind you; Cypher Crane. 

You turned, a polite smile on your lips- years of training. These dinners weren’t new to you by any means. You had grown up attending numerous socialite events such as this, only now, you were the President’s wife. 

“Cypher,” You greeted the brunette woman with a clenched grin. “Lovely to see you.” 

“Yes,” She hissed, eyes trailing down your figure, over your outfit with a flare of her nose in disapproval. “I’m sure it is.” 

You winced, sucking in a breath. And so it begins, you thought. Cypher was your age, you’d grown up going to school together, school yard friends even, at one point. Until you married Coriolanus. Since the death of her elder sister, Arachne, the entire Crane family had blamed Coriolanus. It was his idea that they go see the tributes, and therefore his fault she died. It never bothered Corio, he’d roll his eyes and wave it off, “The family is grieving. Let them blame me if it makes them feel better.” He’d scoff. Still, it upset you, their constant provoking. 

You cleared your throat lightly, scanning the room for Coriolanus on the other end, desperate to be away from Cypher, the tension already too much. “If you’ll excuse me, my husband needs me-” 

“-No, I need to have a word with you.” Cypher blocked your step easily, clutching her champagne flute. Your heart hammered, trying to stay calm, cool. 

“About?” You lifted a brow, tone lifting to stay light and casual- unbothered, hoping you would stay the same. 

“The games,” Her eyes narrowed, lips fixing in a tight line. 

Your heart dropped. Corio had made a number of changes to the games. Alongside Dr. Gaul, the two were working to gain more and more viewers. His first games, and he wanted them to be perfect. The changes had been announced to the sponsors council only a few days prior. You were sure that was why Cypher wanted to talk to you.

“Your husband,” Her words drenched in venomous disgust. “Made changes to the games.” You sucked in a breath as she took a step closer to you. “To the tributes.” 

Your eyes darted around. Where were your friends? Where was Corio? Tigris? Anyone to help you. 

“Yes, he has.” You nodded, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. “Dr. Gaul and Coriolanus thought it best that the tributes be welcomed and celebrated for their sacrifices-” 

“-I fucking know what he said.” Cypher snapped, her voice bouncing off the marble of the room, catching the attention of the guests around you- maybe the whole room. You were too scared to look, truthfully. Coriolanus’ icy, curious gaze had found yours, brows furrowed. 

“I was there when this ridiculous idea was presented, and quite frankly I’m surprised at you.” Cypher sneered, finger jabbing dangerously close towards your face. “Your own daily endorsing this-this monstrosity. Treating tributes as heroes? Funding new trains and tearing down the tribute zoo? Giving them this pedestal to parade around on?” 

“Darling,” Coriolanus’ tone was tight, it made your heart skip. You looked at him, eyes rounded in fear, pinned against the wall. Cypher close to you, Coriolanus behind her. “Is everything alright?” You knew he was upset about the commotion, the improperness of it. 

Your words jumbled in your mouth, fumbling over a calm, collected response. Cypher never turned, never moved, kept her furious gaze on you. “You know my sister was killed by one of those tributes?” Cypher sneered. 

The room stilled, Coriolanus’ eyes falling to you. You weren’t sure what to do, uncomfortable and a little frightened. “You do know it, and now you want to reward them? Reward the rebellion? That’s what you’re doing aren’t you?” 

“No.” You shook your head. “No, never, I- we would never-” 

“-Liar!” Cypher roared, lunging at you. She shoved you against the wall, your head smacking the heavy marble, wincing through clenched vision, waiting for the strike. 

Instead, Coriolanus had her, arms wrenched around her shoulders, shoving her with such force to the ground before the Peacekeepers drug her away. “You killed my sister! You did, Snow! And now you’re rewarding the ones who killed her! Her blood is on your hands, you rebels!” 

“Move,” Corio shoved the Avoxes out of the way, eyes scanning over your features furiously. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” He whispered, jaw clenched in fear, maybe rage. 

“I-I’m alright.” You took a shaky breath, reaching to the back of your head, rubbing the forming knot. Corio’s grip tightened around you.

“Take her to my lab.” Gaul commanded the guards, bright eye wandering wickedly Coriolanus’ way. He nodded, lips pursed furiously, one arm around you. “Clear everyone out.” He commanded with a sharp jerk of his head. 

“Corio, I-I’m fine.” Your breath shuddered, gripping his arm to steady yourself. “Everyone doesn’t have to leave-” 

“-I’m taking you to be examined.” Coriolanus’ jaw was tight, pulling you down the Capitol’s steps with a fury. 

“I don’t need that, darling, I promise. I-I’m alright.” Your heart beat furiously. You had ruined his event. You knew how important this was, and you let it get out of hand. Now, Corio was furious, and why wouldn’t he be? 

“You need to be examined.” Coriolanus’ tone was sharp, leaving no room for argument. Instead, his hand wrapped tighter around your bicep, hauling you to the private wing of the Capitol’s mansion- your shared wing. 

You didn’t fight, sure if you opened your mouth, you might be sick. Instead you sat obediently, letting the doctor examine you, avoiding Coriolanus’ intense, watchful gaze on you. Your fate was sealed, you knew it. Knew that he was upset with you- that he’d punish you for such a display.

The doctor checked you, wrote it off as a mild concussion with orders to not sleep. Coriolanus’ response of “I will ensure of it,” in such a cutting, firm tone, made you shiver. 

The room was eerily still when the doctor left, just you and Coriolanus residing in your bedroom, a thick tension in the air. 

“How are you feeling?” You jumped at the sound of his voice, sharper than normal, though his brows were furrowed with something softer. Concern, perhaps? 

“I-I’m ok, Corio.” You swallowed your nerves, clutching the duvet of the bed. “Just an ache.” 

“How bad of an ache? You didn’t tell the doctor this.” Corio huffed, standing quickly, crossing the bedroom with a fury. 

“Corio, don’t. I’m fine.” You shook your head, moving off the edge after him.

 Coriolanus turned around, frowning at you. “You’re not supposed to be up.” He huffed, harsher than he meant to. “Sit down.” 

You flinched, scurrying back obediently. “I’m sorry. I-I just, I’m fine. I promise. I’m ok.” You stuttered, stomach dropping and twisting with fear. 

Corio paused, watching you with careful eyes. He’d written off your skittish behavior as fear from the situation, fear from being hurt. Now, he watched you cower before him, eyes peering at him the way those he executed did, trembling with pure horror. 

An unpleasant heaviness settled in his chest, sinking to his stomach. “My love,” Corio frowned, stepping towards you. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m ok, Corio, I promise. I-I’m just-just…” You looked at him, head turned down, curled into yourself. 

Coriolanus knelt in front of you, between your legs, taking your face into his hands gently, stomach lurching at the way you tensed. “What’s the matter?” He whispered, blue eyes scanning your face for a sign, any indication as to why you were so fearful. 

You hesitated, lip rolling between your teeth. You wanted to stay silent, be obedient and not further him any more. His gentle touches were lulling you, coaxing your own anxieties out of you. 

“Corio, I swear, I-I did not mean for that conversation to get out of hand as it did.” Your eyes met his gaze hesitantly. “I tried to excuse myself. I tried to de-escalate it, and-and move away, but she was so… determined.” 

Coriolanus waited, blinking, still in his own confusion. Your hands twisted in your own clammy grip. “I didn’t mean to ruin your event. I-I was just trying to be polite and-and it got out of hand-” 

“-I know that.” Coriolanus tilted his head gently. “Darling, this isn’t your fault.” 

“She approached me, and-and I should have walked away or-or called you over-” 

“-You did what you should have done.” Coriolanus said firmly, lips pressing together. “I need to know who is with me and who is against me. There are far too many rebels, unscared and ready to strike. Clearly, the Crane family is one and will be dealt with.” You shuddered at the sneer in his tone, the venomous threat ominous of what was to come for the Crane family, what Cypher was already experiencing in Gaul’s lab. 

“I wish that would have been done without her laying a hand on you,” Corio grit, anger flashing through those dazzling, blue eyes that had you swooning when their gaze met yours. “But, I can assure that will not be possible for her to do. Not for much longer.” 

Your grip tightened this time, clutching his hand fiercely, like a lifeline. “You’re not angry with me?” 

“I could never be.” Coriolanus shook his head. “You defended me, I heard you- others heard you.” His lips curled in a soft smile. “I couldn’t have asked for anything better.” 

You beamed under his praise, relaxing into his touch. Corio’s fingers brushed over your knuckles carefully. “Are you feeling ok?” He asked, softer now. A touch of… worry in his tone? 

“Yes,” You nodded, pressing your forehead to his, your noses touching. “It’s just an ache.” 

Coriolanus’ hand tightened in yours. “I should have her whole fucking bloodline removed for that. For putting her hands on you.” 

“Don’t.” You whispered, shaking your head gently. “She’s upset. She lost her sister.” 

“She’ll be losing more than that tonight, my darling, rest assured.” Corio hissed, that cloudy darkness seeping back into his gaze. “I will make sure of it.” 

You didn’t fight him, didn’t try to sway him. You didn’t want to upset him further, there was nothing that could change Cypher’s fate anyways. 

Instead, you let him dote on you. You let Corio’s fingers brush through your hair, parting your scalp, running lightly over the small knot there. His lips were soft, pressing a gentle kiss to the sore area, before replacing it with ice. He even held the ice pack in place when your arm got tired, like a true, doting husband. 

Your eyes would droop, a soft pat to your leg waking you, a stern stare that had you blushing bashfully, thighs pressing together. 

“You have to stay awake, my love.” Corio reminded with a soft grumble, rubbing your scalp gently. 

“So keep me awake.” You purred, pressing up on his chest lightly, body between his legs. Corio grinned, hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you into him, lips hungrily devouring yours. He moved you gently into the goose feather pillows, lips dragging down your cheek, jaw, biting at your neck. He was so sweet to you, fucking you how you liked- on your stomach, his body folded on top of yours, hands intertwined, hot breath grunting and moaning into your ear.

[mingwrites]

ateez as incubi

seonghwa ~ in your sleep, you had the most vivid and pleasurable dream of your life. you had a mysterious man between your legs, face buried in your pussy, clit between his lips. upon waking up, the fantasy didn’t end. you stirred hazily, moaning at the imagined sensation in your clit. it became a little too vivid, however, when you felt a long tongue slither inside of you. you looked down, seeing that the man was real, and he was still working your pussy dutifully. you knew you should have felt scared, but somehow the only thing you said was, “don’t stop.” this caused the man to chuckle against you. “don’t you worry, doll,” he said, “you’re so delicious, i’ll never get enough.”

hongjoong ~ when you awoke from your restless sleep, you had tears running down your cheeks. there was a sheen of sweat across your body and a dull throbbing between you legs. at first everything was hazy and confusing, but then you heard your demon’s voice break the silence of the night and it all came together. “what’s wrong, little baby?” he mocked from your bedside where he pervertedly observed your plight. “do you need me so bad? these fingers, this dick? tell me how much you need me.”

yunho ~ you woke up to your walls being stretched open by something ice cold. you realized it didn’t hurt because you were already soaking wet somehow. then you realized the handsome man slowly materializing on top of you, eyes locked on yours, hips sliding carefully closer. you groaned as he filled you up entirely, hands moving with a mind of their own as they reached to hold onto the man’s shoulders. “it’s so big,” you moaned. the man smirked, hips beginning to fuck in and out of you. “you know, i can make it even bigger, if you think this little pussy can handle it.”

yeosang ~ you were grinding against your mattress, a rhythmic flow of moans and whimpers echoing in your room as you dreamt of yeosang. in your dream, he was all over you - tongue down your throat, face in your pussy, and dick pounding into your soaking heat. “there you go,” dream yeosang whispered, “make yourself feel good, my darling.” your eyes slowly opened and for a moment you were utterly disappointed about losing your dream. that was, until you realized yeosang was lying right beside you, urging you on further, “don’t stop, baby, i want to see you make yourself cum.”

san ~ you opened your eyes when you heard a familiar voice filling your bedroom with sweet, soothing melodies. “sannie?” you called, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “good morning, sweetheart,” he smiled cheerfully. you smiled in return, but groaned when you felt a throbbing ache in your clit. “it hurts again,” you said. that pain always seemed to return when san stopped by to visit. “i know, angel,” he cooed, placing his icy cold hands on your thighs and rubbing them gently. “do you need sannie to take care of it for you?”

mingi ~ “get up,” a deep voice commanded, awaking you from your dreams. you shot up and scanned your bedroom for intruders. sure enough, he was there staring down at you, and he was mad. “mingi?” you said softly. “what’s wro-” he cut you off: “where have you been for the last week?” your heart sank. he was really mad. it struck no fear in you, just stirred up butterflies in your stomach. “i-i was on vacation, i’m sorry i forgot to tell you.” mingi scoffed. “vacation… you’ve been naughty for the last time, do you understand?” you couldn’t hold your smile back, thrilled for what mingi might have in store for your punishment.

wooyoung ~ the last thing you expected to see when you first opened your eyes was a dick inches from your face. but that’s what you got, and you weren’t complaining. “suck it,” wooyoung demanded. having just woken up, you were a little slow to register what was going on. getting impatient, wooyoung reached out to stroke your jaw, thumb landing on your chin and gently pushing your mouth open. “i said suck it for me, baby.”

jongho ~ you awoke when you heard someone calling your name in a singsong voice. you looked around your room expecting to see him there, but he wasn’t. “jongho?” you whispered. suddenly, there was a strong hand wrapped around your throat, pressing gently on your airway. you grabbed his wrist, and then he became visible. jongho was floating just above your mattress, staring intensely into your wide eyes. he lowered himself so he was straddling you and strengthened his grip around your neck. “please,” he scoffed, “don’t look so scared. i can smell how wet you are from here.”

[dreamisols]

permission ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

—your boyfriend has a cute but questionable habit —wc: 1,140 ; sleepy proofread —fluff, birthday fluff, rin is (squeezes him gently), some personal headcanons, and slight younger rinnie personality headcanons —rimi's ramble: happiest birthday to rin itoshi my boy uee i love him so much <3 also halfway into writing this i realized how soft i always make him but i'd gladly ramble about that too

it's been well over a year into your relationship with rin itoshi.

and at this juncture, you could say that he's opened up to you about nearly everything. it took time, and you were as patient as ever in his eyes. he showed you everything about himself: the good, the bad, what he wants to be, and who he used to be. you can't be fooled by his grumpy persona and harsh body language, not when he finally bared his whole raw heart for you to hold and love. you two knew practically everything about each other.

which might be why you noticed rin slowly picking up some of his old habits from childhood.

for instance, he'd wake you up sometimes from your summer midday naps to offer going out and buying some popsicles from a convenience store nearby to battle the afternoon heat. despite your lazy protests, you'd drag your feet and go with him. and you'd watch as his teal eyes carefully scan the selection of icy treats inside the freezer despite knowing he'd always grab the blue twin pops.

another is when he'd take you to aquariums for dates more often. he once told you in passing that his brother used to love taking him to aquariums when they both couldn't sit and overlook the beach. and now because of how frequently you two have dates there, you two are practically regarded as regulars by the employees (they've joked to rin once about how he should propose to you in one of their scenic spots in the future; rin choked on the water he was drinking).

but the most prominent one is how rin would have this mindless habit of asking permission for the most no-brainer, useless, and quite frankly, idiotically endearing things.

you didn't question it at first. they were honestly all reasonable things to ask from someone who's in a relationship for the first time. albeit he was extremely awkward the first few times around, with him struggling to get the words out, you eventually got used to his small requests and questions.

a small "may i come in?" after every time he knocks on your door whenever he's over at your place.

a shy offer of "do you want me to brush your hair?" when he notices you dozing off a bit after a fresh evening shower.

even a "is it alright if i stay out late with the team?" text once every blue moon whenever he's dragged to their shenanigans (completely against his will).

rin may be struggling with socializing and understanding others' social cues well enough, but mama itoshi didn't raise a disrespectful boy.

you really haven't paid much attention to this habit of his until his birthday.

"i... i can do anything with you..?" rin questions, almost in disbelief. nodding, you parrot his words back, "yep! it's your special day today, so everything's your call!"

"anything...?" he asks again. and like earlier, you nod once more.

there was a beat of silence that accompanied the shocked look rin gave you.

"obviously, everything within reason..!" you cough nervously, afraid rin might've gotten the wrong idea or got too pressured by your supposed surprise, "we also don't have to go out or anything... like i said, whatever you-"

"can... we hold hands...?"

you stop your frantic rambling when your mind processed his words. your gaze is directly at him, but he's staring at the ground like he finally discovered something groundbreaking. the way he spoke sounded as if he was in utter disbelief. it was like if his crush told him that they liked him back, or like he was told that he won the grand prize of something big.

which is confusing.

"y-yes we can?" you quirk one of your brows with a rather unsure smile, "we often hold our hands together, rinnie. we even interlock fingers."

your boyfriend still has that dumb surprised look casted on the wooden floor, "oh.. yeah..."

you were about to question the tone of his voice when he perks up so suddenly and goes on a tangent,

"can we wear matching scarfs when we go out, then? it's practical for the temperature. can we use the one you bought us... that one with the sanrio dog you said reminded you of me because of soccer— pochacco?"

he sits upright and looks up at you with eyes filled with so much anticipation that you can't bear to look away, "we can wear that, right?"

you nod again, "yes rinnie, we can wear that out. like you said, it's cold anyways-"

your excited boyfriend cuts you off once more, like an overly excited child, "if it's cold, can we cuddle? oh, maybe we can also get a mini cake from the bakery nearby? or better yet a parfait— can we share? i don't like overly sweet food..." he gasps softly, like he's struck with the most genius idea, and looks up at you once more for permission.

"can i kiss you..? but.. like, a lot-"

you finally squish his cheeks to stop his mouth from blabbering more and more words that make you both want to squeal at his cuteness and shake him like a dog does with a chew toy because of how annoyingly stupidly adorable he is.

"rin itoshi." the man sits straight at the use of his full name. "i love you with all my heart but oh my god if you ask permission from me for yet another stupid thing i might kiss you and or muffle you with the couch pillow." as if for good measure that your point gets across, you flick rin's forehead softly.

"you know that you're free to spoil yourself, match anything with me, and indulge in any form of affection you're comfortable with." you leave a soft kiss on his cheek, which elicits a gasp from your boyfriend.

"so no more of these useless questions, okay?"

rin nods three times, still looking at you with all the love in the world. your black cat of a boyfriend has magically morphed into this puppy of a man, you can practically envision his imaginary tail wagging from excitement. but you don't mind this side of rin—the side of his that allows his inner emotions, his inner youth run free. if anything, it's a testament to how much he's grown comfortable with you.

your lips form a small smile, your eyes reflect all your love back at him.

just as you were about to change the topic, you catch his teal eyes drift to your lips, back up to your eyes, then down to the floor.

three seconds pass.

"can we-" "you just want the kiss on the lips, don't you?"

if it results in more opportunities for kisses, then yes, he doesn't mind asking all these stupid nonsensical questions.

likes and reblogs are appreciated, but please don’t copy or repost my work!

[oneforthemunny]

strangerprompts: turn back time |eddie munson x reader|

prompt: #8 you step into a hole-in-the-wall bar for a drink and suddenly find yourself in a different decade.

from strangerprompts writing challenge made by @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing <3 this was so fun!!! please check it out and consider writing for yourself!

warnings: language. time travel. but nothing crazy.

“It should be illegal.” You huff, nails digging into the leather of your steering wheel. The GPS shouted at you another robotic turn, drumming out the sound of your roommate on the other line. 

“I mean, seriously? Making me travel alone to- to the middle of nowhere. Ro, I’m not even kidding, it looks like the town Deliverance was filmed in. It’s the middle of nowhere.” You scoff, looking at the rundown building passing by you, all crumbling with desperate need of a renovation. 

“No, it can’t be Deliverance. They didn’t have hotels there.” Roslyn snicker floated through your car’s speakers. “C’mon, it’s not that bad.” 

“It is.” You grumbled. “And then they want us to meet at this bar for mingling. I don’t even know if I’m going to the right place!” You threw your hands up, smacking them on the steering wheel dramatically, turning it as the GPS announced you’d arrived. 

The Hideout- or at least, that’s what you could make out from the peeling sign above the building. “Jesus Christ, I’m getting murdered.” You muttered, sending Ro howling in laughter. “I’m not even joking. I’m about to be a topic on a fucking podcast.” 

“Stop.” Roslyn wheezed through laughter. “You’re not gonna get murdered.” 

“I don’t- This place doesn’t even look open.” You exhaled sharply, flicking through your phone, ensuring this was the right place. “Ro, you have to swear to me if I get murdered, you’ll make sure the true crime freaks won’t make Etsy merch about me.” 

“Calm down,” Ro laughed. “You’re not gonna get murdered. It’s just not the hipster ass bars you’re used to.” 

“No,” You muttered, locking your door quickly, clutching your purse to your side. “I really might. Stay on the phone with me.” 

“What?” Roslyn’s voice broke through the static. “I can’t- You’re cutting ou-” 

“Fuck.” You hissed, looking down at your phone as you climbed the stairs. Call Failed flashing back at you, no bars to be found. 

Turn around, get back in your car, and say fuck it. You do not need this job this bad. 

Yes, you actually do. 

A painful reminder of your maxed credit card, student loans, and rent flashed before your eyes, silencing your bitter thoughts. Sliding your phone into your purse, you clung to the strap tightly.

“Just stay fifteen minutes, then say you feel sick.” You muttered to yourself, reaching for the rusted handle. 

The entryway was dark, eerily quiet to be a bar. You almost thought it wasn’t one, if it wasn’t for the bright neon sign shining at the end. Welcome! Glowing in blinding red letters, underneath it in blue, the piercing glow that read: Stay A While. 

“So weird.” You muttered, your arms wrapping around yourself. 

The air turned colder with every step you took, following the bright signs- the only source of light, down the dark hallway. Your heart hammered in your ears, clutching your purse close to you. Just as you were about to panic, chest swelling with fear, veins icy as the air- you heard it. 

A muffled roar of an electric guitar, a tiny sliver of golden light peering beneath the heavy door. You pushed the door open, met with a sudden wave of warmth, the dim lights of the bar blinding you still. 

“Watch it, sweetheart.” A man with a tray of beers muttered, swiveling past you. 

“Sorry,” You squeaked, looking around the crowded dive bar. You scanned the packed tables for anyone from the conference, shimmying in between tables, peering over teased hair for anyone. 

“Fuck me,” You huffed, settling at a sticky bar booth, still littered with half drank beers and peanuts- the only one available. “No way I’m the first one.” 

You plopped your purse on to the seat of the booth, an iron grip still on the strap. You could feel the cutting glances still cast on you from the others, they’d had followed you from the moment you walked in. Judgemental, all accompanied with a lifted brow. 

Should look in the mirror, You thought bitterly, rummaging through your purse. They’re the ones wearing that outdated, ugly shit.

“Where the fuck- I know I put it in here.” You muttered, taking out the wrappers, your wallet, desperately trying to find your phone. 

“‘Scuse me,” You jumped, eyes wide when you looked up, clutching your purse to your chest. 

Dark eyes met yours, a dimpled smile joining them. “Sorry,” The man lifted his hand carefully, the other balancing a black bucket stacked with glasses. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to see if it was ok if I clear this outta the way for you?” 

“Y-Yeah, sorry.” You muttered bashfully. “Yes, that would be great. Thank you.” 

A ringed hand passed in front of you, the light catching in the skull before it grabbed a glass. You moved back to your purse, furiously checking each pocket, chest growing tighter and tighter with fear. 

“You alright?” The busboy asked, swiping another glass, stacking it into the bucket with a soft rattling clank. 

“Yeah- I mean, not really.” You turned, head craning towards the door. “I think I lost my phone in that hallway.” 

“Hallway?” He laughed, his name tag flashing towards you- Eddie, decorated with sharpie drawn bats and devil horns. “Phone’s on the wall over there.” Eddie nodded towards the bar, an old dial up phone mounted there, a sign that the charge is a quarter above it. 

Your brows creased. You didn’t even know those things worked, you always assumed they were decoration for the… edgy aesthetic of the place. 

“No, I mean my cell phone.” You shook your head lightly. “I think I dropped it in that hallway back there.” You pointed towards the swinging door. 

Eddie frowned at you, stilling as his eyes scanned your features. “Are you- Are you feeling ok?” He asked. 

“What?” You snapped defensively. 

“Did someone slip something in your drink or something?” Eddie asked carefully. “Gotta be careful with those old guys. They look harmless but they’re gnarly-” 

“-What? No.” You shook your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I-I haven’t even had a drink. I just got here. I’m supposed to meet some people from a conference, but I can’t find my phone-” 

“-Your phone?” Eddie’s nose crinkled in confusion. 

“Yes. My phone.” You barked in irritation. “My cell phone?” 

Eddie blinked at you. “What is that European?” He shrugged. 

“What? Are you fucking with me-” 

“-No,” Eddie held his hands up. “No, I just- I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” He laughed nervously. “And I mean you’re dressed… different. Not that it’s bad!” He added frantically. 

“I just assumed you were European or something. Not from here anyways.” Eddie muttered, leaning against the table. 

You blinked. It felt like you were in a dream, like everything you were saying was mute, confusing, in Wonderland and entirely discombobulated. 

“You… You don’t have cell phones here?” You asked slowly. 

Eddie shook his head, curls bouncing. “Nope. Not here, sweetheart. Hasn’t made its way to Hawkins, Indiana yet, but sounds pretty-” 

“-What?” You hissed, chest booming with a fear filled ache, sure your heart had stopped entirely. “What did you just say?” 

Eddie’s face fell, his flirtatious grin disappearing. “Hawkins? Indiana?” He said slowly, eyes narrowing when your face paled. “Hey, are you ok? Did you take something?” 

“N-No, I-I don’t- I d-didn’t-” 

“-Look,” Eddie slid into the booth beside you. “You’re not gonna scare me off if you did somethin’, alright? I’m not nearly as conservative as these other bogus losers.” 

You couldn’t speak, mouth dry, heart caught in your throat, hammering away so fiercely your ears were ringing. “What’d you take? Blow? K? Pills or somethin’?” His arm brushed yours, head ducking towards you. “It’s fine, whatever it is, I’m- I’m really good with dealing with this sorta thing, if you can believe it.” 

“I-I didn’t take anything.” You droned, nearly automated. “I just- I-I was walking down the hallway, and-” 

“-Hey, I’m just trying to help you.” Eddie said softly, his tone pulling your attention back to meet his gaze. “Did you hit your head?” 

“N-No, I- The hallway-” 

“-That,” Eddie pointed towards the swinging door. “Is a bathroom.” You watched as the door swung open, as if on cue, a girl with blue painted lids and crimped hair piled high stepping out. 

“The closest thing to a hallway here is to the dumpster out back.” Eddie grinned at you softly. It was sweet, but you couldn’t bring yourself to smile back, body trembling with fear. 

Eddie felt it, frowning at you softly. “Do you need me to call an ambulance? Call someone for you?” 

“No,” You swallowed hard. “I-I need to leave. I have-I gotta get out of here.” Panic rose through your chest, trying to push him out of the booth, climb over him, anything. 

“Hey, easy,” Eddie slid out of your way. “Hang on-” You ignored him, pushing past him towards the door. 

Outside, the sun was still just beginning to set, that was the only thing that was the same. 

Your car was gone, in its place a line of cars- old cars, but still shiny? Still new, not rusted with wear or dulled colors from age. The buildings were no longer crumbling, signs still new and displayed proudly. 

“No, no, no, no.” Your chest heaved, fingers threading through your hair. “What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck is going on?” 

“Hey!” Eddie grabbed your shoulder, pulling your attention towards him. “Hey, I-I don’t think you should be driving-” 

“-My car.” You gasped. “Where the fuck is my car? I-It was right here,” You turned, throwing your hands out. “Right here!” 

Eddie looked around, a blush rising to his cheeks at the judgy looks the passersby were giving. “Maybe you should come back inside-” 

“-No.” You barked, shaking your head furiously. “No. I-I’m not-” Through the window, a glimmer of a photo caught your eye. 

Your walk back inside felt nearly trance like, everything underwater, Eddie’s voice droning out with the others. A painting of two cartoonized children waving fistfuls of flowers gleefully- though that wasn’t what caught your attention. It was the printed lettering underneath it that made your blood run cold. 

“Hey, why don’t you take a seat, an-and I’ll call someone-” 

“-Is this,” You swallowed, pointing at the wall. “This isn’t right, r-right? Thi-This isn’t- There’s no way.” 

Eddie frowned, looking at the wall. “I mean, yeah, it needs to be changed now. I guess it’s technically May now, Mick just hasn’t gotten around to flipping it-” 

“-No, this-this says…” Your finger traced the numbers, glaring at you in bright red. “1986?” You squeaked. 

Eddie blinked at you. “Yeah,” He nodded slowly. 

Your vision filled with dark splotches, fading in and out of focus on the calendar in front of you. Your knees buckled, purse slipping between your fingers before you fell limply, Eddie’s frantic voice ringing in your ears the last thing you heard before your consciousness slipped.