#lol whose idiot is that

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Need a hug? Thanks. Because I needed that. [Laughing]

[the-gadabout-gander]

Nobody asked but here's my headcanon on Gladstone's guardians as he grew up

Like most Gladstone Stans I do subscribe the Daphne-Goosetave parentage, including the bit where he ends up orphaned, and like any proper Gladstone Angst Enjoyer, Sign of The Triple Distelfink and his unlucky birthday are part of it.

And then for a long time I figured he lived with Grandma Duck and Gus until suddenly he didn't and he was with Ludwig, but then I read the skies of farm town.

I enjoy the Farm Town Stories on their own; I don't really ship Gladstone with girls, tho, so the love interest storyline doesn't factor into most of my headcanons.

What did wriggle into my brain, tho, is Olivia Duck. Introduced as a Maternal Aunt who Also has the miraculous Good Luck. The comic posits that she raised Gladstone, until a turning point when he hit a certain age where their Luck began to counteract each other, turning him unlucky around her, at which point she moved far away. In the present she also has. Awkward relationships with her relatives.

Anyway that felt perfect lol. Adding a sister for Daphne to not only balance out the gender ratio of Grandma's kids, but also Olivia's departure giving an opening for a custody transition for whatever reason onto Matilda McDuck and/or Ludwig Von Drake

So now my hc/nearly-oc version of Olivia is like. Daphne's twin sister, both being given the luck of the Triple Distelfink. But while Daphne is more subdued and modest about her fortune, Olivia...isn't Gladstone levels of arrogant, but she's much more pragmatic. And honestly it just feels right that one of Elvira's kids felt stifled on the farm vs in the big city and flew the coop ...

...until she hears word abt her sister's death, leaving behind a young nephew with the same magic luck. And then she's moved, not all the way back to the farm, but to nearby Duckburg, to raise him.

Until their respective lucks go haywire around each other, and for maximum angst potential let's hc that to happen when he's just around 13. And she feels it's best for his own safety that she get as far away from him as possible.

Leaving Grandma with a young traumatized teen with attachment issues, and limited support beyond her daughter-in-law's sister, who has a good friend who, well...

[rose-honey-lemonade]

The view outside my window is so pretty right now but it's crazy cold and windy af so I'll stay inside with my nice hot cup of coffee and just enjoy the view.

[luvisia]

please know that whenever i post jokes or headcanons i am always thinking of miles as the annoying ass older brother figure to alice and billy and that's just how my brain works thank you

[lovelyhan]

— down bad (so so bad) ⟢

it’s not like you’re curious about how the word would taste in your mouth whenever seungcheol calls himself daddy while talking to kkuma. nope. definitely not. 

★ FEATURING; seungcheol x pet-sitter!reader (ft. exo's sehun just 'cause LOL)

★ WORD COUNT; 5.7k words 

★ TAGS; friends to lovers, lots of denial, a twinge of fluff,  smut

★ WARNINGS; graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; if u see me reposting this for the third time, no you didn't!!!!! JDKFGDJFKGGH i'm so sorry i should be working on one last enemies 2 lovers request, but the influx of kkuma content in seventeen street got the better of me,,

this is part of the doting on you! series.

★ SMUT TAGS; getting caught, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, dom!seungcheol, praise kink, nicknames (baby, sweetheart, pretty thing, princess), reader is touch-starved AF

★ SVT TAGLIST; @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex - @stariightjoyy - @asjkdk - @horny4hoshi - @asjkdk - @stariightjoyy - @jiniesclub

★ SEUNGCHEOL TAGLIST; @changk6un - @renjunphile - @pluviophile-xxx - @noveniadelia

You spend a lot of time convincing yourself it’s not a big deal.

Because it most definitely isn’t. You live in a part of the city where there just happens to be a lot of idol and celebrity residences nearby, and ever since you’ve established yourself as a pretty decent pet-sitter, they’ve been enlisting your services much more than you initially expected.

But for some reason, every time the leader of that boy group whose dorm is right across the street comes to you with the most spoiled baby princess in his arms, it suddenly becomes a big deal. A huge, ginormous, larger-than-life—

“Hey.” Seungcheol grins, already dressed for today’s schedule from the looks of it. “I heard Sehun-hyung dropped off his dog yesterday, but we kinda have to squeeze in a last-minute shoot this afternoon, so…”

As if privy to the mention of his name, Sehun’s dog—a Bichon named Vivi—barks from your living room. He takes a peek behind the entryway to curiously peer at who’s at the door, but doesn’t make any moves to come out altogether. His presence makes Seungcheol’s dog, Kkuma shrink into her owner’s arms, almost whining. 

“Aww, baby, don’t be like that. You’ve played with Vivi before, right?” Seungcheol coos and you have to stifle a laugh at how he adjusts the pretty bow on her head before turning back to you. “So, uh, is it alright to double book you? I’ll be back for her tonight. Promise.”

Normally, you would’ve refused. Though you work from home, you don't want your attention spread too thin when you’re looking after a client’s pet. This is one of the main reasons why you mostly just pet-sit one at a time, but it’s as if the universe is intent on using your silly attraction to Choi Seungcheol against you—your usual terms and conditions be damned.

“Yeah, I think Sehun’s picking up Vivi later this afternoon, so it’s no big deal,” you reassure him before petting Kkuma affectionately. “You wanna go on a walk with Vivi later, Kkuma?”

Seungcheol told you once that his precious daughter is extremely picky about who gets to pet her and who should maintain a one-meter distance at all times. So when Kkuma has obviously taken a liking to you right off the bat, he knew she was in safe hands. Not to mention the assortment of positive reviews he’s heard about you from other idol friends in passing—he’d be an idiot not to ask for your help when you literally live right across the street. 

Lucky him that you’ll do anything for him if it meant you could have the pleasure of seeing Seungcheol right at your doorstep—flashing you that adorable, dimpled smile before he drops off or picks up his only child from your care.

Not like he has to know any of that, of course. 

“Oh, thank you so much,” Seungcheol groans with relief, shifting Kkuma into your arms before patting her head reassuringly. “My dad was supposed to pick her up from the dorms today, but something came up at home and he couldn’t make the trip. I owe you big time.” 

You chuckle at his gratefulness all while your heart swells as Kkuma nuzzles your chest. What an adorable little thing. “You know my bank account, Seungcheol-ssi.”

He shakes his head with a laugh. “I know you’re just messing around but really, you can call me Cheol. I think I’ve called in enough favors from you to be familiar at least.”

“Those aren’t favors, Cheol. You literally pay me three times more than you have to whenever Kkuma comes over,” you half-jest, startling a little when you notice Vivi circling your legs as he tries to sniff at the dog in your arms. “Anyway, shoo! Won’t you be late for your schedule? I’m sure a playdate with Vivi is just what Kkuma needs to kill the time.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” he sighs before leaning forward to take Kkuma’s face in both of his large hands—pressing a loving kiss on top of her head. “You better be good, okay? Oh, I’m gonna miss you so much, baby.”

Kkuma’s tail wags at her father’s blatant affection and you can’t help the smile that creeps up your face. No matter how many times Seungcheol baby talks to his kid before taking his leave, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing such a side of him up close.

“Daddy’s gonna be back for you tonight. Promise. Oh, by the way, her vet put her on a sodium-free diet for a while, so don’t give her any treats. And…”

As Seungcheol fusses about Kkuma’s newly imposed feeding schedules and hands you a backpack full of pet care necessities, you find yourself zoning out—your head ringing with that one word that’s always made you a little flustered every time you heard it from Seungcheol’s mouth. 

“You get any of that?”

You blink, acutely aware of how Vivi has stood up on his hind legs, pawing at your thigh as he attempts to lick Kkuma’s face. When you realize that you’re just standing there like an idiot as Seungcheol waits for a response, you let out a dry laugh before setting Kkuma down on the floor.

“Yep, I only have to feed her once. Strictly two scoops. Not that I see you sticking to the feeding regimen though,” you tease while receiving the backpack from him. 

“You got me,” Seungcheol chuckles again. “Can’t ever say no to my princess when she gives me the puppy eyes and asks for another scoop. Luckily, you’re the one looking after her today, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take care of it.”

Once Seungcheol finally takes his leave, you let out a long-winded sigh—pressing your back against your front door as Kkuma looks up at you with those big, dark eyes. Vivi seems to have made his way back to the living room after the initial curiosity and you’re glad that you don’t have to round up two energetic pups when your heart is still pounding in your chest.

To your surprise, Kkuma walks up to you, nuzzling your leg with a whine. 

Laughing, you sink to your knees to give her a few scratches underneath her ears. Dogs can be so attuned to a human’s emotional distress, it’s a little amazing.

“What does it feel like to be able to call him daddy?” you joke as she lays on her back for some belly rubs that you have no problem giving. 

The moment the question slips from your lips, you find yourself groaning again as you recall the tight fit of the black turtleneck Seungcheol was wearing today. How it accentuated all the features the fabric was meant to emphasize. You can only imagine how it would feel like to be caged in those big, beefy arms—

Kkuma jolts from her comfortable position on the floor when you suddenly shoot back to your feet, but you only feel half as bad for startling her.

You’re down bad. So ridiculously bad. 

Sehun comes over to pick up Vivi about an hour after you got home from their walk. 

Like most of your clients, he usually shoots a text before dropping by, but he must’ve forgotten the usual protocol. So when you hear your doorbell go off while you’re in the middle of watching idol fancams on your TV, the internal panic is very much warranted. 

Vivi bounds straight into his owner’s arms the moment Sehun comes through the door and starts licking his face. You smile to yourself despite clearly looking disheveled from how comfortably you’ve been lounging in the living room, but you’re sure Sehun doesn’t mind.

“Oh? He’s got a little playmate?” He raises an eyebrow when Kkuma waddles over to help herself to some of his attention too. Despite how he looks, Sehun gives Kkuma a few pats. “Hmm… Isn’t this Seungcheol’s kid? Or is it Seungkwan’s? Mingyu’s? Their dogs look all the same to me sometimes.”

You snort before handing him Vivi’s bag of necessities that every doting pet owner has up their arsenal. “You were right the first time. I’ve never pet sat for Mingyu before and I’m sure Seungkwan’s dog is in Jeju with his family.” 

He nods in understanding before locking Vivi’s leash in place. “I see. Wouldn’t be surprised if they started to have you look after their pets too, though.” 

When Sehun’s all set, you both discuss payments and he gives you his word that he’ll have the money wired into your account when he gets back to his place. But just when you’re about to send him and Vivi off, he pauses—glancing at something behind your shoulder. 

Curious, you whip around to see what caught his attention and—

“Uh, it’s not what it looks like, I swear,” you stammer before throwing your arms out as if that’ll obstruct the view this six-foot idol has of your television screen. “I left YouTube on autoplay and I guess it paused when you arrived, and…”

Lies. You were in the middle of watching every single one of Seungcheol’s fancams before Sehun arrived and paused whatever was playing on screen. It just so happens that it slipped your mind that the screen froze at a very tantalizing part of his HOT fancam.

You’re not sure how you’re going to explain to Sehun that you don’t usually watch your clients' fancams like some closeted fan, but thankfully, he’s always been discreet about a lot of things. 

“Right,” he says, obviously unconvinced but seems that he won’t press further. “Well, we’re gonna head out now. Jongin-hyung might give you a call in the next few days, by the way. He’ll be busy promoting his solo debut for a while and Kyungsoo-hyung’s growing tired of all the fur in his apartment.” 

You nod swiftly, glad to have another business prospect right after this one just concluded. “Gotcha. See you again, Sehun.”

Once you’re all alone, you carry Kkuma to the living room—laying her down on the plush cushions of your couch before plopping helplessly right next to her. Thank god it’s Sehun who unknowingly bore witness to something so embarrassing. If it was Jongin, he never would’ve let you live it down.

But instead of wallowing in your shame, you unpause the video on screen—watching Seungcheol’s fancam in front of his daughter without another thought.

Kkuma doesn’t seem all too interested, immediately curling herself into a ball right next to you before promptly dozing off. You don’t get to see it though, since your eyes are glued to the screen. 

Surely the jury won’t condemn you too badly for biting the inside of your cheek whenever Seungcheol sticks his tongue out with a smirk, right? This is an idol who’s spent nearly a decade in the industry—if not more. Of course he’s got the art of fanservice ingrained into his bones. 

But just when you told yourself that this is the last one you’re going to watch before hopping in the shower, you end up viewing a couple more of his fancams first until you make do on that self-imposed promise.

This one’s a clip from their most recent fan meeting, you think. A DON QUIXOTE performance that’s been circulating around social media for the better part of the month. While you’re not that well-versed in their group’s discography, you happen to like this song a lot specifically because of how raspy Seungcheol’s voice is whenever he raps his parts.  

When he decides to unclasp a piece of fabric that’s been getting in the way of choreography, you have to bite back a groan when he practically throws it on the stage with that domineering air he never fails to showcase during their performances.

You press your thighs together, hyper aware of the heat that’s sizzling in between before casting Kkuma a guilty stare. Though she’s just a dog, you still feel a little bad about lusting after her dad while she’s sleeping right next to you. 

You’re not even sure what’s got you so worked up today. This isn’t the first time Seungcheol dropped her off in person so you’re not sure why you’re feeling this horny from a few fancams alone. Shark week must be drawing near.

Either way, you end up quietly easing yourself off the couch so as to not wake the sleeping princess on your sofa—turning the TV off altogether before making a beeline for your bedroom to grab your towel and a change of clothes. 

If there’s a more opportune time to take a shower and wash away the impurities infesting your body, it’s now.

But just as you’re about to head to the bathroom, your phone goes off on the coffee table. You pout a little when Kkuma stirs from the sound of your ringtone—looking around sleepily for the source of the noise.

“Sorry about that,” you coo before settling back beside her, running a hand across her smooth fur. 

When you glance at the caller ID, your heart nearly plummets to your stomach.

“Hey,” Seungcheol’s deep voice flits into your ears when you take the call, sounding all sorts of tired. “We’re just wrapping up our shoot. I should be there in an hour or-so. How’s Kkuma?”

“She was fast asleep before my ringtone woke her up,” you chuckle. 

“Oh. Shit. Sorry, baby.”

You tense up at the term of endearment despite being fully aware that it’s not meant for you in particular. That reminds you to put your phone on loudspeaker so that the intended recipient could hear Seungcheol’s apologetic voice.

“I think Vivi tired her out when we went to the park today,” you tell him fondly. 

“Sounds like she finally met her match,” Seungcheol laughs on the other end and Kkuma perks up at the sound of her owner’s voice. “Can you hear me, princess? I’m coming to get you in a while. Keep being daddy’s good girl for me, yeah? I won’t be too long.”

Fuck.

When Seungcheol says your name and thanks you in that same, tired yet raspy voice, you have to keep yourself from melting into a puddle right then and there.

“Hope the double booking wasn’t too much of a bother,” he murmurs and—god. You get that he probably doesn’t have a lot of energy to spare, but does he have any idea what his voice is doing to your underwear?! 

“Not at all,” you manage to say without your voice cracking. “I told you Sehun picked up Vivi early today. It’s just me and this spoiled princess right now.”

“Spoiled, huh? I guess that’s one way of putting it.” Seungcheol breathes out a laugh. “Anyway, we’re getting settled in the shuttle right now. I’ll text you when I’m at the door.” 

“Gotcha. Come on, Kkuma. Say goodbye to daddy.”

You don’t know why that cursed word slipped out of you so naturally, but Kkuma seems to respond to it in kind—her tail swishing with contained excitement before letting out a soft bark for Seungcheol to hear. Your client (that’s right he’s your client, you stupid, horny—) coos at the other end of the call.

You honestly can’t wait until he arrives to get her so you can have some real, much needed alone time.

To your credit, the shower kind of helped.

Though you just took one of the coldest baths in your life, it managed to alleviate the heat that lingered on your skin once Seungcheol ended the phone call. That’s considered a win in your book.

As you towel your damp hair, you take a peek at Kkuma who’s returned to her little nap on your couch. The sight makes your heart flutter and you would’ve snapped a photo if that doesn’t go against the rules you’ve set for yourself and your humble business. 

Then again, fantasizing about one of your clients definitely goes against whatever principles you’ve been practicing all your life but that’s not the issue here. 

Not wanting to wake her until Seungcheol arrives, you silently pad off to your bedroom, intent on getting some work done before planning what you’ll have for dinner. However, the moment you hang your towel to dry, you end up lying in bed instead of hunching in front of your desk with a laptop full of backlogs waiting for you. 

You don’t even think twice when your hand inches past the garter of your thin sleep shorts.

Typically, you’d use one of your trusty vibrators to get off when you direly needed the release. It made things quick and simple. Plus, you don’t have to suffer through the ordeal of having your fingers pruning up. 

But your brain thought it would be extremely funny if you touched yourself to the thought of your fingers being Seungcheol’s instead of yours—gathering the slick from your aching pussy as he lathers your wetness across your slit.

While you’re…preoccupied in your bedroom, you don’t hear your phone buzzing on the coffee table outside. You’ve deigned to put it on silent mode so Kkuma won’t be rudely awakened by any unexpected ringtones again, but the decision is a bit short-sighted since Seungcheol did tell you he’d text you once he arrives at your door.

Said idol is standing in front of your apartment with a worried look on his face. He texted you about ten minutes ago but received no response, which is a little strange since you almost always reply to his messages right away. 

When you don’t pick up his third call, he starts to pace around nervously. Did you go outside? Were you busy? He’s normally a patient person, but when it comes to Kkuma, he gets jittery within seconds if there really is something to worry about.

Seungcheol tests the knob to your door but when he finds it unlocked, he’s further thrown into a haze of concern. Shit. Were you robbed? Where is Kkuma? 

Where are you?

He kicks off his shoes haphazardly in the entrance, closing the door behind him before twisting the lock as he looks around cautiously. There doesn’t seem to be anything out of place inside your house. The furniture is just as he remembered—not that he spends a lot of his time studying your interior—and finds no signs of ransacking.

Relief practically crashes over him in waves when Kkuma’s head pops up from behind the couch. She hops to the floor and zips straight into his arms, pawing and licking with all the affection she can offer. Seungcheol laughs, petting her to calm down before giving your living room another once-over. 

You’re nowhere to be found. 

Even if Seungcheol can just grab Kkuma and make his leave, he knows he’ll feel bad if he ditches you without a word like that. So after telling his only child to stay put at the doorway, he carefully treads around your apartment and makes his way to (what he assumes is) your room.

The door is slightly ajar and he could make out the figure of someone lying on the bed inside. With the knowledge that you’re safe and sound, Seungcheol’s shoulders relax. 

But just when he’s about to raise a fist to knock—

“Oh, daddy, please—” 

Seungcheol freezes on the spot.

He likes to think he’s a pretty decent person. Never one to think about or blurt anything remotely sexual especially if the situation doesn’t call for it. He also likes to think he has a pretty decent amount of self-control.

But for some reason, when he sees you with one hand buried between your supple thighs as the other paws at your breast through a flimsy night shirt, he can feel himself rapidly crossing that line he’s been so careful to maintain with you all this time.

Seungcheol should leave. While he doesn’t know the specifics of your love life—given that the nature of your friendship is mostly transactional—you probably have at least one person you’re involved enough with to call daddy while you get yourself off. He’s walked in on something he shouldn’t have and he still has time to recollect his thoughts somewhere else while dealing with the steadily growing hardness in his jeans.

But then, he hears you sigh:

“Cheol… Fuck!”

You’re on the very brink of the orgasm you’ve been craving since this morning when your hand is rudely yanked from between your legs. You jolt at the intrusion—fear shooting through your system at the thought of some psycho breaking into your house while you’re so vulnerable. But when your eyes meet Seungcheol’s hard gaze, you’re convinced that you’re dreaming.

“S-Seungcheol?”

To your horror (more like delight) he takes the hand that you’ve just been using to finger yourself to the thought of him—taking your slick digits into his mouth with a pained groan. The sight instantly makes your pussy quiver with need but before that…

“What are you doing here?” you ask weakly, not having the heart to pull your arm away when he looks so fucking hot licking the juices off your fingers. 

When his lips disconnect from your skin with a lascivious pop, he plants a kiss across your knuckles, smirking. “Those are such pretty sounds you’re making. Are they all for me?”

This is not happening. You probably slipped in the shower and hit your head or something. Because Choi Seungcheol—the client you’ve been having inappropriate thoughts about for the entire day—can’t be crouching in front of you right now, giving you the sexiest bedroom eyes you’ve ever seen.

You swallow thickly, trying to salvage what’s left of your pride. “Cheol, I’m sorry, I—”

He shushes you by placing a finger to your lips, the grip he has on your arm tightening with each passing second. You nearly moan when he presses his forehead against yours.

“Daddy, huh?” he asks, completely ignoring your attempt at clearing the air. “You want to call me daddy that bad, baby? So much that you have to get yourself off with Kkuma lying outside?”

Shit. That’s right. Kkuma.

However, in the midst of the moral dilemma that came with wanting Seungcheol to fuck you into the mattress while his adorable daughter was waiting outside your bedroom, you recognize that this is definitely a once in a lifetime chance. 

You’re not about to let it go to waste. 

You aren’t certain who it is that lunged in for the kiss. All you know is that Seungcheol has you pinned beneath his firm body as he licks into your mouth—larged, calloused fingers gripping onto your hips possessively as you moan his name against his lips. 

Your sleep shorts come off in no time. So does your shirt. It only occurs to you’ve been grinding down on the denim of his jeans with nothing but soaked panties on when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth—coaxing out a sound so heavenly, it shoots straight through his cock.

“You’re so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he sighs hoarsely, rolling his hips against your core so that you can feel how hard he is through his pants. “So fucking needy. When you get yourself off, am I the one you always think about?”

You want to say yes but Seungcheol captures your lips into another bruising kiss before you can utter a sound. 

He nudges your thighs apart with his knees, one hand reaching between your legs so he can inspect the mess he’s unknowingly made of your cunt. When he finds you wet and wanting, you feel a growl reverberate deep in his chest.

“Now this won’t do,” he tuts before sliding himself between your thighs, easing himself lower on the mattress so he can hook them across his shoulders. You mewl in anticipation and Seungcheol meets your gaze with a challenging smirk. “Is there something you want?”

“C-Cheol—”

“That’s not my name right now, baby. I thought you knew that.”

How the fuck does this man just slip so naturally into the subspace without making things weird or uncomfortable? If anything, the authority in his voice makes another bout of slick gush outside your entrance—making you pray to every single god out there for Seungcheol not to notice.

“Daddy,” you whine and the title sounds delicious in his ears. “I want you. Wanted you for so long.”

You want to curl in on yourself when you feel Seungcheol’s teeth trailing love bites along your inner thighs. The grip he has on them is weighted with nothing but gentleness but the contrast it has with his rough kisses is making your mind stutter with pleasure. 

“What’d you think about, hm?” he whispers. “Tell me all the filthy things you’ve wanted to do with Daddy.”

You nearly gasp when he flattens his tongue across your clothed core, breathing in the musky scent of your arousal. The overload in his senses makes him want to snap and have his way with you, but Seungcheol tells himself to take it easy. 

He has all the time in the world to make you feel good.

“B-But that’s embarrassing,” you whine, struggling to free yourself from his grip but Seungcheol tears your defenses asunder when he moves your panties to the side and licks a long, languid stripe along your glistening slit. 

The effect it has on you is immediate—you’re writhing against his touch, fingers automatically tangling themselves in his hair as Seungcheol helps himself to your cunt like it’s his first meal of the day. It doesn’t help that he’s so enthusiastic about eating you out. Almost like he’s thought about doing it at least once in his life.

“Daddy, please—” you whimper. “Need you…inside.”

“Not until you spill the dirty details, princess,” he chuckles before letting your panties snap back against your poor, sensitive cunt. You jolt at the contact, tears lining your lashes because of how desperate you are to get filled with something. Anything.

“I-I thought about you fucking me raw,” you start shakily, toes curling every time his nose grazes your clothed pussy. “Calling me pretty names and leaving your marks on my body. T-Then when I’m about to c-come, you tell me to hold it in ‘cause you want to come together. You’d also tell me how much of a good girl I am…”

Hm. An obvious pillow princess that likes being praised. While Seungcheol has a preference for calling his partners dubious names in the bedroom, he can make a few exceptions. 

Especially when you look so fucking wrecked for him when he’s barely touched you.

“I see. What else is cooking in that pretty mind of yours, baby? Daddy wants to know.”

You visibly preen at his words, further confirming his suspicions. Seungcheol has to bite back a groan at the sinister feeling that fills his chest at the knowledge.

He’s going to have so much fun with you.

“You’d— You’d use my pussy to dump your load inside me… Then you’ll just k-keep going even if I’m twitching and sensitive all over, fucking your cum deeper ‘cause you want me to keep it all in for days.” 

The mental image you’re painting inside his head is not doing his sense of control any favors, but Seungcheol remains steadfast. He won’t fuck you stupid when he hasn’t even asked you out on a date yet. He has more tact than that.

“That’s what I like to hear, pretty thing,” he chuckles before moving his head a little so he can remove your ruined underwear. He typically would’ve just torn the fabric in two, but he doesn’t want to scare you off just yet. “Such a good girl for Daddy. And you know what good girls deserve?” 

The innocent look on your face nearly makes him cream himself right then and there. “W-What?” 

With a no-good smile, he says:

“To come until you’re crying.”

Seungcheol easily slips in two thick fingers into your sopping heat, making you cry out in a way that’ll definitely pique Kkuma’s curiosity. He just hopes his baby won’t come nosing in where she isn’t supposed to while he takes care of his other baby the way she deserves. 

“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” he sighs—loving how your gummy walls practically cling to his fingers with each shallow thrust. “Can you even take more than this? I don’t want to break you when you’re being so good for me.”

You voice out your protest against his words with a pathetic mewl, bucking your hips against his fingers with erratic vigor. “N-No… I can take more, Daddy, please please. Want you to fuck me full. I’ll be good, I promise!”

Seungcheol has been producing his own tracks for years, but the sound of you babbling incoherently is music to his ears. As he continues pumping his digits in and out of your needy hole, he puts himself back to work—tongue tracing tight circles around your puffy clit as he forces your thighs apart. 

Your back arches off the bed at the sensation as your fingers desperately claw against the sheets. It’s so unfair how delirious he’s made you when he still has all of his clothes on, but you’re nothing if not his good little girl when you don’t even comment on it—focused entirely on the mounting pleasure he’s freely giving you.

When the pads of his fingers manage to graze that patch of spongy flesh deep inside you, your eyes nearly roll to the back of your skull. Seungcheol is all too privy to your reaction and you feel him smirk into your cunt as he curls his fingers to find that spot again—attaching his lips around your sensitive nub as he overwhelms you with stimulation.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry, hands finding their way back to his hair as you desperately tug him closer. “Daddy, f-feels so good! I’m gonna—”

“I never gave you permission, baby,” he growls and you quickly whine when he detaches himself from your pussy. “If you want to come you have to ask Daddy nicely. Unless you feel like being a bad girl all of a sudden?”

You shake your head, hips grinding against the air in a desperate attempt to get his mouth on you again. “N-No, Daddy. I want to be good. Can I please come? Please? Need it, need you.”

His chest tightens at the desperate plea in your voice and for a moment, Seungcheol is honestly kind of scared of getting too used to your desperate whines. Your needy whimpers. 

How on earth is he going to go back to being friends after all this is over?

“Alright, since my princess said she’ll be good for me,” he laughs as your walls clench around his fingers. “You can come when you feel like it, baby. Come all over Daddy’s face.”

You don’t completely expect it when Seungcheol dives back into you, smothering his face in your pussy so greedily that you feel his nose bumping against your clit. He laps at your soaked folds like your arousal is the best thing he’s ever tasted—easing a third finger inside you as you muffle a scream.

“Yes, yes! Right there, Daddy!” you moan, tugging on his hair even harder as you grind your cunt against his face. “So close, so close—fuck!”

When you fall over the edge, Seungcheol doesn’t stop his relentless onslaught on your twitching pussy. Your walls clamp down around his fingers so tightly, he can only imagine how good it would feel to fuck you on his cock while you ride out your orgasm. 

The syllables of his name are all but broken when you frame them around a high-pitched keen. Seungcheol slurps up every drop that trickles onto his face and he only peels himself away from you once you’ve stopped thrashing against his grip.

In the aftermath, the two of you bathe in silence—nothing but your mutual pants filling the room. You’re looking at Seungcheol with stars in your eyes despite what he just put you through and the sight alone makes him more aware of the problem in his pants.

“Daddy, do you want—”

“No,” he says immediately and he feels bad just as fast because of the disappointment that crosses your face. “I mean—fuck. I want to fuck you dumb, princess. I really do. But I also really like you and it’ll be a chip on my conscience forever if I do that without taking you out on a proper date first.”

It takes a moment for his confession to completely occur to you and when it does, the dazed look in your eyes makes way for utter shock. Seungcheol wonders if he should be offended.

“You…like me?”

“Sweetheart, I’m a pretty busy guy. I don’t just let anyone come on my face.” 

You gulp. “For how long?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “A while. Now are you going to let me take you out on that date one of these days or are we going to have to pretend this never happened?”

You scowl at him. It doesn’t help that he still has that tightly fitted turtleneck on—distracting you from the topic at hand for a moment before you clear your throat and give him an answer.

“H-How about we go on that date now?” you suggest somewhat anxiously. “I mean, I was already thinking about where to get dinner after this, and…” 

Taking him by surprise, you lean forward to cup your hands over his ear—a devious smirk curling on your lips.

“Maybe you can fuck me dumb right after.”

Long story short, your first date with the idol you’ve been crushing on is a big hit. Right after getting himself to calm down (A.K.A., taking care of his hard on in the privacy of your bathroom), Seungcheol took you and Kkuma to a food park that’s open until midnight. 

It’s over dinner that you fess up and tell him the origin of your newfound daddy kink. Seungcheol has the gall to laugh in your face at your admission and you swear you’ll never pet sit Kkuma ever again if he keeps teasing you like that.

“Aww, baby,” he coos, pinching your cheek for added effect. “You don’t have to call it pet-sitting anymore. Now that we’ve established how much we actually like each other, don’t you think it’s more fitting to call it…co-parenting?”

Unwittingly, you receive his words with a scowl.

You want to smack him upside the head. Just because he’s a confident little thing on stage doesn’t mean he can just bring that side of him in a real life conversation. But for all your adamant bravado of insisting he’s being full of himself…

You honestly don’t mind.  

⟢ end notes: yay! you got to the end of my delusions!!! that said, thank you to nova @duhnova and indi @playmetheclassics for title help and going through this spur-of-the-moment filth for me!! rip to the original genius title, daddy's good girl(s) bc tumblr wants to censor it so badly LMFAO

i don’t have anything else to say aside from i’m so sorry choi kkuma

this is part of the doting on you! series.

[writtnbyhan]

NFWMB.

PAIRING: bang chan x female!reader

TAGS: protective chan, idol!chan, non-idol!reader, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 1945

PROMPT: person a gets into a heated argument with someone. person b starts threatening them, so person a picks up person b and carries/drags them out of the room before anyone gets hurt.

warnings: what the prompt says, lol — arguments (not between chan and reader). very very minor violence (arm grabbed), bruising, swearing. Let me know if I missed a warning.

author's note: well, baby's first post. I really hope someone likes this ? my goal is to participate in nanowrimo in my own way so expect weekly posts from yours truly. I was nervous about what to write about bc of it being my first post but I needed to write something or I'd never do it. starting with chan feels right, though I wish I can get to write more fluff soon 😭 this was fun tho! I really like protective and possessive chan<3

You didn’t intend for him to hear. Mostly, because you thought you could handle things on your own, but also because you knew it would somehow end up like this.

You have been visiting the building where the boys work for as long as you remember being in their lives. It’s not your fault, given that they spend almost every waking moment there, working. And the one whose time was taken the most by it happened to be your boyfriend. It was a Saturday and he was working, which wasn’t uncommon, but it also wasn’t healthy. You let it slide sometimes, when you knew time was pressing on him and he needed to be there, for his own peace of mind. But everything was ready for the comeback, there was absolutely no reason for him to spend his weekend locked up in that so-familiar room.

So, you did the only logical thing: went there to drag him out, knowing only you where capable of doing so. No amount of puppy eyes from his kids could do what you could with just asking — you were his girlfriend, after all, it was expected that he’d have a soft spot for you.

You felt the problems creeping on you as soon as you stepped foot in the building. There were new people there, new workers. You hated when new staff started working, because they were still too nosy, and because they would ask too many question, some of which you wouldn’t be able to answer without one of the boys by your side to prove your credibility. It was okay, though, you could only imagine how many girls could go to the front desk and claim what was your truth — “I’m looking for my boyfriend”.

Luckily, the girl at the front desk, Sun Hee, already knew you. She only smiled at you when she saw you enter the building, and her tired smile should’ve been warning enough. You walked to her with a matching smile of your own, she knew you were there to pick up a overworking boyfriend, but you still needed to sign your name in the records.

“hi, lovely! what’s got you tired today?” you asked, curiosity so strong you couldn’t help asking.

“new staff’s first weekend. sometimes I wonder how they got hired in the first place”, she answers truthfully, sighing. She sends you a look you know it’s a warning — beware, idiots walking around feeling entitled!

You sigh, too. That’s going to be troublesome, especially today.

“hope I don’t get to met them today, at least until I find Chan. The boys didn’t warn me, or I would have brought one of them with me”

She showed a sympathetic smile, nodding.

“Prince charming is on studio 3, same as always”, she rolls her eyes playfully.

It says something about your overachieving boyfriend that not only the staff knows where he is all the time, but also that you have almost made friends with said staff. God, you needed to convince him to spend less time working.

After thaking Sun Hee and promising to chat more later, you walked to the elevator, setting to find Chan. You could amost picture him — black hoodie, black beanie hiding his messy curls, and headphones in. You smiled at the image in your head, a much too familiar one, one you loved so much.

Smile still present in your face, you stepped out of the elevator on the corresponding floor, checking different doors that had lights on. You were here to pick up Chan, yes, but you didn’t rule out finding Hyunjin or Felix overworking themselves too. The blondes were quick to follow their leader to the building any day, claiming they always “needed” the extra practice. Jeongin would be just as annoying as they were to you, if it wasn’t for his baby status, which meant everyone took a little more care of him (Minho more than anyone, checking that the boy didn’t overwork himself regularly).

Of course, checking every room as if you didn’t know where you were going to may have looked suspicious, you will give the man that. You were glad he was doing his job, just — well, maybe you were at the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe he was.

“Excuse me, miss, who are you and where are you going?” He was at least 30 cm taller than you, and he was almost as buff as Changbin. You weren’t intimidated at first, you knew your presence had been cleared for, you had a right to be there, and you had got through the entrance desk, so he must know you were allowed there, right? Maybe he was just trying to help.

“Oh, hi! I’m Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend and checking to see if one of his friends is here as well”, you explained.

He stepped closer, almost invading your personal space. You took two steps back.

“Who are you looking for?”, he was eyeing you as if you were suspicious, a threat even. You, who was dressed in a skirt and probably looked like a mouse next to him.

“My boyfriend”, you repeated, “Christopher Bang Chan. He is in one of those studio rooms”, you added matter-of-factly.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to escort you outside. You shouldn’t be here.” The man said, loudly, like he wanted to be heard. Ah, you thought, he is one of the new ones. It was common, you have seen it happen one too many times — new staff is always trying to prove themselves as good.

You smiled, though you were a little intimidated now. After all, you were alone in a hallway with the man who kept getting closer.

“Why is that? I am allowed here”, you tried to keep calm.

“Look, I don’t know how you passed the front desk, but fans should not be inside the building!”, the man yelled at you, his arm reaching out until he could take you by the wrist, his hold tight enough to bruise.

“Hey! You’re hurting me, stop it. Let me go!” You started struggling, trying to force your arm out of the man’s hold.

“Stop fighting or I’ll call security”, he threatened. You were about to tell him to do so, you’d wait by him until security came there and showed the man that your info was in the system and you were, actually, allowed there. You didn’t get a chance, though, for your boyfriend’s voice reached your ears as soon as the man stopped talking.

“You let her go or I’ll call security myself”, Chan’s voice showed his anger, and as he got closer you saw the determined look in his eyes that made you worry a little. You didn’t doubt Chan was capable of hitting the man if he didn’t let you go right now.

The man, apparently, didn’t notice that, for he did not let go of your wrist.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I’ll have her removed from the building immediately, I don’t know how she got inside.” He was tugging at your wrist, to which you kept quiet. If you expressed how much it hurt, the situation could escalate more than you wanted it to.

“She got inside because she’s allowed to. Now, I said: let her go.” Chan’s voice was ice cold, almost spitting the words at the man’s face. Finally, your arm was free, and you rushed to take your own wrist so as to cover the red marks, evidence of the strong hold the man had on you.

“Why doesn’t she have a pass, then?”

“She doesn’t need one because she’s not a guest. Did you even care to ask about that or check the system? You know, that type of irresponsible behaviour could get you fired — you can’t just go around the building threatening and grabbing people by force!” Chan’s voice got louder near the end.

“It’s okay”, you quipped, putting a hand in Chan’s chest as an attempt to calm him down. He was protective, you knew as much, but he was also a lovely person who you knew didn’t want to get anyone fired. Still, you knew he’d do something like that for you if you asked for it.

That was a wrong move, apparently, because it meant letting him see the marks on your arm.

“what the fuck?” his words were whispered, but it was obvious the anger that came with them. “Man, what is wrong with you? You should have checked before bruising her arm like that! What gives you the right to decide who is and isn’t allowed here?! That’s the front desk’s job, if she’s on the fucking third floor, then I think it’s fucking obvious she passed security. I need your name for I will have to file a complaint about this, grabbing someone like this is violent and no excuse of security can make it right because you are not supposed to even touch here — if you think she is not allowed here, you call security, you do not bruise my girlfriend’s arm.”

Chan’s voice is loud, and he is so close to the man you could tell it is some kind of threat, or maybe show of strenght. The man’s jaw was tense, as if he was ready to argue with the idol himself. You looked around the hallway, not knowing what to do or how to stop this. The man that had grabbed your arm clearly felt too entitled for his own good, and you worried that he might try to turn things physical.

Lucky for you, he didn’t even get a chance to answer before you heard a door open and close quickly, someone rushing out of one of the practice rooms.

You think you have never been happier of seeing the freckles in Felix’s face.

“Chan, everything okay?” sunshine boy asked, putting his arm around you as soon as he was close enough. His voice seemed to get Chan out of whatever state he was in, for he took a few steps back, still not breaking eye contact with the other man.

“Yeah, this dude just grabbed y/n’s arm and bruised her wrist because it’s apparently his first week here and he already feels too entitled.”

Felix looks at you, looking for something in your eyes, before getting closer to his friend.

“Okay, let’s go grab our things and go home to see if she needs to put some ice on her wrist”. He doesn’t let Chan answer before taking his hand with his smaller one, intertwining his fingers and almost dragging him out of there. You’re quick behind them, taking Chan’s other hand to give him some peace of mind.

Felix looks back at you and you smile in thanks. You know your boyfriend is way too protective, but a situation like this had never happened before. It’s good to know he’d do anything to defend you, but you still didn’t want him to get in a physical fight in his workplace.

“Don’t you dare think this gets any of you out of the hook for working on one of your free days, boys.” You reprimand them, hands still intertwined while entering the studio. Chan’s calmer now, his cheeks blushed with what you guess is something akin to embarrassement; you know he doesn’t like getting like this, but sometimes his emotions overpower him. You kiss his cheek, deciding to not comment on the subject until he does so himself. After all, you achieved what you came here to do — collect whichever stray kid had wandered their way to work on a weekend and get them home.

[inkdrinkerworld]

scenario where reader trips or someone accidentally pushes her into beefy!james but he’s sturdy so he doesn’t even budge but his pecs provide a nice cushion to fall back onto lol

oh oh this is rugby!james and reader’s meet cute!!! set in collage!!

the party was in full swing. apparently rugby was a big deal on this side of town and the university had the best team- supposedly.

you’re not into rugby, you barely understand a handful of the rules but an excuse not to hear your roommate moaning all night wasn’t going to be passed up by you.

you were making your way out of the kitchen when three guys ran past you, shoving you out of the way and into someone else.

“fuck,” you grumble, holding your cup behind you so it doesn’t spill all over the man whose hand wraps around your waist to steady you.

you hadn’t been so lucky, your shirt is wet with vodka.

“you alright?” he asks softly, his other hand reaching to rub your back.

as you look up your heart hammers in your throat. the man holding you is gorgeous.

like carved from marble beautiful. he’s got on round framed glasses that make his eyebrows look even sharper, his brown eyes melty with concern.

his nose is a little crooked but still pretty. and he’s got full lips that look a little too enticing.

“yeah,” you manage to breathe, pushing off him. he’s huge- beefy is the better word. his shoulders are broad, his arms are corded with muscles that you see clearly from his t shirt. “sorry about bumping into you.”

the man shakes his head, the curls he’s got tied back bouncing free from his hair tie.

“s’nothing, those guys are idiots.” his chin juts to the men who’d bumped into you, they’re all currently trying to do some kind of drinking game.

“thanks for not letting me fall,” you pause when you realise you don’t know his name.

“james.” he offers easily and you smile.

“y/n,” you introduce yourself and he smiles too- showing off two deep dimples in his cheeks. god, it’s like the crafted him with not skipping a single detail.

“wanna change your shirt? i think i’ve got my hoodie here somewhere.” james offers easily and you wonder if he’s always so pleasant.

“you won’t miss it?” you ask, feeling like you’re flirting but you’re not sure.

“nah, would rather you have it, pretty girl.”

so you nod, flustered by his nickname and james points to the chairs behind you.

“here,” it’s a black hoodie that looks so soft, and as you take it you notice it’s got the school’s rugby emblem on it.

“didn’t realise you were a player.” you say and james grins- all wide and happy.

“s’alright, i have a helmet on most times, hides my identity.” he jokes and you giggle.

“like clark kent,” you hold the hoodie up to your nose discreetly. “thanks james, i’ll find you tomorrow to give it back.”

james nods, “don’t sweat it, pretty girl. whenever you see me you can give it back.”

james is definitely flirting with you.

james’ name is shouted across the living room and he grimaces, “gotta go, but it was nice bumping into you.”

“yeah it was,” you mumble to yourself as james jogs over to where his name was shouted from. you make it to the bathroom quickly stopping off your shirt and fitting the hoodie on- james smells lovely is the first thought you have.

like roasted marshmallows, vanilla and brown sugar. maybe you won’t rush to give him the hoodie back just yet.

[saintkevorkian]

Besides this, one cannot by fair dealing, and without injury to others, satisfy the nobles, but you can satisfy the people, for their object is more righteous than that of the nobles, the latter wishing to oppress, while the former only desire not to be oppressed. It is to be added also that a prince can never secure himself against a hostile people, because of there being too many,

De Principatibus / Il Principe, Niccolo Machiavelli [1532] Translated by W.K. Marriot [1908]

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hi!!! Would it be okay if I requested a worried head cannon for Astarion(Or Wyll or Halsin, I’m fine with any of them) where they lost track of Tav while on a scouting/stealth mission or on the battlefield? Thank you!

A/N: I went with losing track of their Tav on a stealth mission because that seemed the most anxiety-inducing… lol. Poor boys. Sorry, it’s not my best, I was rushing :( 

✧ Losing Track of Their Tav on A Stealth Mission ✧

Astarion: 

The most likely to panic, even though he swears he’d be the last to do so. 

He’s running all the worst-case scenarios through his head: you’ve been killed, you’ve been captured, you’re being enslaved just like he is…

Immediately jumps to the worry that Cazador or someone working for him has realized the two of you are together and plans to get to him through you.

He considers getting one of his companion’s attention but ultimately decides to continue sneaking in alone. He’s pretty good at sneaking, and the others could screw it up. He can’t leave your fate in the hands of someone klutzy like Gale accidentally casting fireball and alerting everyone to their presence. 

If he wasn’t intent on killing anyone in his way, he is now. They mean nothing to him. You mean everything to him. Do the math. You > Them. 

Definitely ends up compromising the mission, by either getting seen and alerting everyone or by causing enough chaos and death that people begin to notice. But none of that matters anymore to Astarion, whose only goal is finding you. Of course, if anyone else was to make that mistake, he’d chew them out for it. But he can’t see how hypocritical he’s being: all he can think about is your safety. 

When he finds you, he masks his fear with anger. He calls you an idiot, a fool- every name in the book. He doesn’t intend to hurt your feelings, he just doesn’t like how his affection for you puts him in a vulnerable place. He was terrified of losing you. The fear of that greatly outweighs the fear of the tadpole. 

He’ll get you away from there, away from everyone else. He can’t trust the strangers of Baldur’s Gate, and he doesn’t want his companions to see him this emotional. 

After the two of you are back to safety, and after he finishes berating you, he yanks you into a tight hug, refusing to let go. 

You tell him you’re sorry, and that it’s over now and you inform him it’s okay to let it out. Be prepared for the shoulder of your top to become soaked in tears. He’ll cry into you, telling you in between sobs how you were the first person in forever to see him as an equal. He needs you. You are the only one who sees him. He can’t lose you. 

After he’s calmed down, he’ll try to lighten the mood with a joke. Something about also being afraid to lose his very own privately stocked food source. Of course, you see right through the facade. You let him feed after that comment anyway, softly petting his hair as he does so. 

And even though normally while feeding, he’d be comforting you, telling you it’s alright, that it’s almost over- you end up comforting him, shushing him, and telling him the two of you will be okay- you’re not going anywhere. 

Wyll: 

Probably the most level-headed in his reaction, even if his thoughts are racing like mad. As the Blade of Frontiers, he’s learned how to think strategically in most situations. Of course, that’s easier said than done when someone you know and love is personally on the line. 

He’s figuring out all the possibilities, working out how likely each one is, in order to figure out which avenues to first explore. 

He continues on his own before remembering he’s not acting solo anymore. He’ll round back to where the others are stationed, and give them the news. He tells them the mission’s priorities have changed, and the goal for now is to find you. 

He doesn’t plan on completely abandoning the original job of course. He intends to get right back to business. He can keep both ideas in his head

Tries his best not to blow the original mission while looking for you. Of course, when push comes to shove, he’s going to choose you. The mission can be tried again at a later time: he can’t lose you. He’s lost too much in this life to accept having to part with another. 

If he has no leads and it's been a while, and he’s growing increasingly nervous, he might consider calling Mizora and asking for her help, even though he knows it’s going to cost him more years of servitude. Having to work for a devil is much more bearable when there’s someone you love. He’d make a thousand deals if it meant you’d stay safe. 

Once he finds you, he’ll quickly ask if you’re alright, before ushering everyone out. He wants nothing more than to speak to you freely, but he knows right then isn't the time to do it. 

After you are safely far enough away, either back at camp, or somewhere secluded, he’ll firmly but kindly demand to know what the hell you were thinking, sneaking off like that?! He wants you to know he was worried, dammit! He loves you! Can’t you see how much losing you would hurt him? 

He’ll take you into his arms and place a soft kiss on your forehead. You are so precious to him. Please, please, he asks, be more careful. 

He vows to be at your side for any future stealth missions. He loves how brave you are, and how much you want to protect him. Just let him protect you in return. 

Halsin: 

Halsin probably reacts the least because he has the most faith that you’ll be okay. He sees you as his savior- a savior of his people, of the grove, of the tieflings- you are the most incredible person to him. 

That being said, he’s not going to simply do nothing if he thinks you’ve run into trouble. You mean so much to him, of course he’s going to change courses and instead go search for you! 

He’s also going to rope the others into helping him. I mean, he’s not forcing them or anything, but he does regroup and tell the others of his concerns. He’s very calm and level-headed, but also quite determined, so the others have few qualms about switching gears and following him. 

He’s also the most adept at staying hidden while looking for you, being able to wild shape into an inconspicuous animal like a cat or a rat or a bird. He uses his druid abilities to his advantage, steering clear of confrontation as he makes a beeline to where your scent takes him. 

Once he finds you, if you yourself haven't been discovered and taken, he’ll stay in animal form, and carefully guide you to a reliable exit. However, if you’ve already been caught, be prepared for things to get hairy. (Get it? Hairy?) 

He will not hesitate to shift into a big-ass bear and rip people’s throats out as he carries you on his back to safety. Even though this makes him a much more large and obvious target, he’ll do it, if it means keeping you protected. Any hits or damage he can take, he can heal from, all the less pain you have to endure. 

He absolutely brings you somewhere outside of the city. He feels safest in nature, and in order to calm down, he needs free-flowing nature, which is hard to come by in Baldur’s Gate.

He’s going to squish you- even if you’re bigger than him. He’ll lay you down gently, before resting on top of you, keeping balanced so that you don’t have to support all of his weight. He needs to be close to you, preferably with skin-to-skin contact. He needs your warmth, your smell, the softness of your skin… It centers him and brings him back down to earth. 

He’ll voice his worries while simultaneously complimenting your skill. He doesn't want you to feel incapable, but he must let you know how he felt in that moment when he feared you were hurt or worse. 

You are his light, you brought him out of the shadows. And he can’t bear to lose you. Please, don’t fade away. Don’t leave him in darkness once more. 

...

Please Like & Reblog!!!

[dark-fics-4-you]

Crocodile Tears

Dark!Coriolanus Snow x f!Reader

You and Coryo are academy students who were both selected to mentor tributes in the Hunger Games. Coryo becomes competitive and refuses to realize that his unreturned affections have begun to affect his performance. Frustrated by what he perceives to be you leading him on, Coryo delves deeper into his obsession and eventually gives in to the desires he tried so hard to deny.

Warnings: noncon, oral (m!recieving), forced sex, Reader loses her virginity, unprotected sex, unwanted creampie, slight breeding kink, choking, slapping, degradation, slut shaming, misogyny, coryo is delusional and crazy (so basically in character lol), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Coriolanus’ palms were slick with perspiration as he flexed his hands anxiously.

Every noise in the room seemed amplified, his heart was beating so hard in his chest he was shocked his classmates couldn’t hear it.

Each name that Dean Highbottom read off that wasn’t his own was more painful than the last.

“Y/N Y/L/N!”

His head swiveled to look at you as you rose, pride written across your face at the confirmation of your place in the class.

The sounds of the applause filled the atrium and the classmates seated beside you congratulated you. After all, they were all within the top 4, districts that had much higher chances of winning the Games.

“Miss Y/L/N, you are assigned the District 4 girl, Coral.”

“Thank you!” You beamed, graciously accepting your place near the top.

Coriolanus’ face felt hot as he glared at you, toxic competitiveness rising in his chest.

It’s not like you were all that much better than him, you were a teachers pet and everyone knew it. Always kissing up to them and being so apologetic whenever you made even the most minor mistake.

It made him nauseous.

Not to mention the fact that there had been rumors that you had given a few favors to professors along the way in return for better grades.

He definitely believed it too.

Despite the sweet front you put up, Coryo just didn’t buy it. He had seen you in too many classes, it seemed like you were always stressed and complaining about school, despite getting top marks in almost every class.

The blond had spent many hours in class just staring at you, watching you pay attention in class and ask questions. He often found himself studying your face more frequently than he was studying his class work. Every facial expression that you made irked him to the core.

Each blank look you gave after being called on when you weren’t following along or the frustrated way you creased your eyebrows together was further proof that you didn’t belong at the same level as him.

But even more obnoxious was when you were right in class, which was a lot of the time. He hated the way your face lit up when you were told you were correct or the way you eagerly asked questions or got lost talking about a subject you found interesting.

He wondered who your family was, your last name wasn’t familiar but you had always seemed well off enough. Maybe your parents had bribed someone to keep you afloat? Or maybe the rumors were true, maybe you had been passing your classes just based off of your looks and extra time put in at their office hours.

It didn’t add up to him.

It wasn’t fair. His classmates were a bunch of idiots, so far below him they couldn’t even realize it. Even Sejanus, whose name had already been called, was much more insignificant than him.

So why hadn’t his name been called yet?

“Coriolanus Snow!”

His heart stopped at the sound of his name, blood rushing in his ears as he stood up.

He didn’t even know which district he was being called for.

“Runt girl, district 12, belongs to you.”

His stomach dropped when he heard the number.

12?? Could there be a bigger slap in the face? It couldn’t be right. He thought that he was better than that, he knew that he was better than that.

But he bit his tongue, metaphorically and literally, tasting the rush of blood in his mouth as he clenched his jaw, glancing at the screen as he watched the dark haired girl walk up to the reaping platform.

“What is that dress? Is she some sort of clown?” Coryo’s classmates snickered behind him.

He saw her reach behind her back before dropping a snake down the dress of a red headed woman in the crowd.

The students in the hall around him began to chatter loudly in disbelief.

Lucy Gray walked up the steps of the reaping platform only to be punched by a man at the front of the stage. A peacekeeper swarmed in, pulling him away from the fallen songbird.

Coryo couldn’t take his eyes off of the district girl, surprised when she approached the microphone at the front of the stage and began to sing.

Her voice cut through the crowd of the audience in District 12 and the academy hall, filling the space entirely.

“Nothing you can take from me

Was ever worth keepin'

Nothing you can take

Was ever worth keepin'

Can't take my charm

Can't take my humor

You can't take my wealth

'Cause it's just a rumor

Nothing you can take

Was ever worth keepin'

You can't take my sass

You can't take my talkin'

You can kiss my ass!”

At the last line, madness broke out around him as the students and laughter and shouts filled the hall.

Whispered inquires and pointed looks were tossed Coriolanus’ way, but he paid no attention to them. No, his gaze was locked on you, still seated and appearing to be lost in thought.

How badly he wished he had access to what you were mulling over. Perhaps strategy to help your tribute win? Maybe you were comparing your tribute to the others. Or maybe… he contemplated, dark thoughts crossing his mind.

Maybe you were plotting a way to get his sickly tribute eliminated early on, so he would have no chance at the Plinth prize at all.

Maybe you were laughing at him in your head because he was at the very bottom of the list, despite how much more he believed he deserved your spot than you did.

Blind rage began to clutch at his heart and lungs. He was certain that you were looking down on him, pitying him.

He was stuck with some district 12 song bird, while you got a career killer.

Now your chances of winning the Plinth prize was even higher. Despite all the reassurances from their professors, Coryo knew that winning the games played a factor in their decision, and the odds were very much not in his favor.

The academy mentors all stood, filing out of the hall, each of them excitedly talking about their tributes.

Coryo scanned for your face and he was a bit surprised to see that you still looked troubled. There was a frown on your face as your classmates discussed why they thought their tributes were going to either win the Games or die in the first five minutes.

You almost looked sad, but why would you be? You had a career tribute, one that was almost guaranteed to do well in the Games and likely curry plenty of favor and popularity from the Capital.

The blond scoffed at you, thinking back to his underfed, musician of a tribute and he cringed. He deserved what you had, the success that you had achieved should have been his own.

He was ripped from his thoughts, ears perking up when he heard you speak.

“I think I’m going to go visit my tribute once she gets to the Capital. I mean, don’t they practically ship them over here in cages? They’re probably exhausted by the time they arrive, that’s no shape to win the Games in. And besides, they’re humans too, don’t they deserve a little kindness before going to their deaths?”

The genuineness in your voice made him pause, was it possible you actually cared for these district scum? But when he looked into your eyes, there was no glimmer of mischievousness, no sign of a sinister master plan.

Coryo wasn’t even quite sure what compelled him to speak because before he could realize what he was doing, he was offering to accompany you to the train station.

Your head swiveled to his, eyebrows knotting in confusion as you regarded him. “Oh, really Coriolanus? I didn’t realize you saw the people from the districts as anything more than animals?” You snickered, referencing some of his previous comments in class.

Coryo’s face felt hot and he was sure his cheeks were growing red. He clenched the fists that were resting by his side before taking a breath to calm himself. He wasn’t going to let you embarrass him in front of his classmates.

“I got stuck with district 12, I’m gonna need to take any opportunity I can to push her over the finish line. Someone’s gotta give that girl a meal. And like you said, they’re human, just like us.” Coryo’s response shocked him even as his mouth formed the words. Words he didn’t truly believe.

It was funny, he thought to himself, if he had heard Sejanus say the same, his eyes probably would have rolled out of his head.

It had never even occurred to him to go visit his tribute. Coryo didn’t really care all that much whether she lived or died, but for some strange reason, if going to visit Lucy Grey meant that he could spend a little extra time with him, Coryo would have said anything to tag along.

Your eyes softened as you looked at him, surprised when you saw him in a light you never had before. “Do you really mean that?”

Your naivety was almost charming and Coriolanus flashed you a kind grin before nodding. It was adorable how easily you accepted his lies.

The short walk to the train station was uneventful. You seemed reluctant to speak with him, no doubt put off by some of the past comments Coryo had made about the districts.

If you weren’t going to talk or even, at the very least, look at him, Coriolanus decided he could spend the time studying you. He had never spent this much time with you, aside from in his classes.

He had also never realized how nice you smelled, like lavender and honey, and he was having trouble remembering just why he disliked you so much, when your voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“I can’t remember, do we turn on this street or the next?” Your timbre was soft and sweet, it reminded him of his mother’s.

“It’s this one,” he responded, a memory of going to the trains frequently in his childhood in the hopes that his father would be coming back home from the districts pushed it’s way into the forefront of his thoughts.

The two of you walked in silence, and then stood in silence for over an hour while you waited for the train to come. When it finally pulled into the station, your respective introductions to the tributes were hurried. The Peacekeepers quickly ushered them away from the station before herding them towards a truck.

Coriolanus was ready to call it a day after meeting Lucy Grey at the station, put off by their strange interaction, do people from the districts regularly eat rose petals, he thought to himself with a chuckle.

So he was more than a little surprised when he saw you approaching the caged trucks filled with the tributes.

“Y/N?” He loudly whispered. “What are you doing?”

“I want to know where they take them, plus we could both get more time with our tributes,” you explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world and Coryo felt a pang of anger rise in him at you patronizing him.

“Well I knew that,” he responded, trying to cover for himself. “But don’t you think we should be more careful?”

But you didn’t even hear him, already climbing into the back of the truck that your tribute had disappeared into. Coryo knew that he couldn’t let you go all alone, what if those tributes hurt you? Or worse, what if you getting more time with your tribute right now could be the thing that won you the Plinth prize over him?

Before he was given the chance to really think it over, he found his legs moving him forward and he jumped into the truck behind you.

Despite how soon the Games were, Coryo found himself struggling to focus his thoughts on ways to help his tribute.

You had been the only thing that Coriolanus Snow could think about the past twenty-four hours.

He had tried very hard to think it over, and he had come to the conclusion that he had never met someone who could irk him so deeply.

Coriolanus had forgotten all about his lie to you that he was going to bring Lucy Grey food after meeting her at the train, but he was shocked when you pulled several sandwiches out of your bag. Apparently, you had been planning to offer food to any tribute that would take it.

It was an idiotic move if Coryo had ever seen one. I mean, why in the world would you think that feeding every tribute would do anything but hinder your own?? Now they would all be going into the stadium with semi-full stomachs.

Still, at least that meant that he had been able to feed his sad excuse of a tribute.

It was impossible for him to focus on Lucy Grey while you could be out there pulling another stunt to propel yourself towards the Plinth prize. Of course you already had it so easy with the tribute you were assigned.

Coryo’s mind could not shut off, racing a hundred miles an hour towards the same thought over and over and over again.

He had to do something about you.

You and your tribute were too much of a threat to him. Coriolanus needed to win the Plinth prize, and he knew that you were the biggest threat standing in his way.

There had to be some way that he could give Lucy Gray another advantage without being caught.

The addition of the drones providing food and water was good, but not good enough. And he had only given her enough rat poison in his mother’s compact to kill two tributes, or seriously injure four.

Dr. Gaul loved his proposal for the games, it was just such a shame that Clemmie had to try to take the credit for herself.

With a flash, Coriolanus sat up in his bed, an idea striking him like a lightning rod. He walked to the closet where his jacket was hung up and he grabbed the handkerchief he had given to dry Lucy Gray’s tears.

After quickly trekking across the city to Dr. Gaul’s laboratory, thoroughly pleased when the guards let him through to tell them he was there to see her, he headed to her laboratory, knowing full well that she had already left for the day about 2 hours ago.

Planting the handkerchief was easy, walking out without being questioned by the guards was easier.

With his head held high, Coriolanus swiftly made his way back to his apartment.

However, his euphoria wore off quickly when he remembered that even if he could protect Lucy Grey from the snakes, he had no way to protect her from the career tributes.

Coryo wondered what you had been telling to Coral, what strategies you were instructing her to follow. Maybe you told her to pick out the weakest links first, which would include that sickly tribute from 11, the young girl from 8, and Coriolanus’ songbird.

It made him feel sick, and he was happy that his father wasn’t around to witness his inevitable spectacular failure.

It just wasn’t fair at all. How had he been placed at dead last, while the dumbest girl that he knew probably had a 1-in-4 chance of winning the games.

Rage boiled inside of him, keeping him awake for hours as he tossed and turned in his bed, and he cursed you for costing him precious sleep at a time like this.

For reasons he couldn’t figure out, Coriolanus’ thoughts were fixated not on the Games, not on his tribute, and not even on his growling stomach.

No, he just could not stop himself from wondering, and picturing, whose cock you had to suck to get that spot.

The games were horrific, of course. Despite having seen them nine times at this point, you still felt so queasy when the first canon shot off and the tributes ran from their platforms.

You could barely stomach watching, even though you knew that you needed to if you wanted your tribute to survive.

After the initial bloodbath, the number of tributes was effectively cut in half. Surprisingly, Coriolanus’ tribute had been holding her own, but so was yours.

Each fallen tribute stung you, knowing that they were all just innocent kids, none of them were old enough to fight in the rebellion against the capital, and if you had been born in the districts, that could have easily been you in that arena.

You were sure that was heavy on Sejanus’ mind too.

The hours and days blurred together, your stomach was in knots as you lay in bed each night, hoping that no tributes would die as you slept.

The first day you returned, on the second day of the games, there had been a death in the arena overnight, the District 8 kid, Bobbin. None of the cameras had captured what occurred, and none of the tributes made mention of killing him.

Each day that you returned and found your tribute alive, you thanked your lucky stars. Coral was very strong and cunning and you felt very lucky and proud that you had received such a good tribute assignment.

Still, you couldn’t help yourself but worry about Lucy Grey and her mentor. Lucy’s song had genuinely moved you during the tribute interviews and you felt very sad at the idea that your tribute’s victory would mean Lucy Grey’s death.

Coriolanus genuinely had surprised you when he followed you to the train station, you hadn’t expected him to care at all about his tribute outside of what her winning would mean for him.

He was scrappy and you had to give him that. Perhaps there was a side to him that you hadn’t considered before.

Although, you still were wary about keeping him at arms length, the way that he had talked about the districts in your class rubbed you the wrong way, especially when you knew that Sejanus, his best friend, was from the very same districts Coriolanus trash talked.

You were less than amused at some of the actions he took throughout the game. After discovering that the arena water drones were primitive at best, and likely to slam into whatever they targeted, when your tribute and several other cornered Lucy Grey, Coriolanus called in several drones that smashed into your tribute and the others, allowing Lucy Grey to flee to safety.

“He can’t do that! It’s cheating!” You fumed furiously, hoping that Dr. Gaul or the other officials would listen to you.

“I’m just sending them water,” he smirked back at you. In the end, nothing was done to punish him.

More tributes fell, some meeting more gruesome deaths than others, but your tribute was still doing very well.

The days dragged on tortuously, but the final day was the worst of all.

The tributes had all moved from the sewers and into the main arena area, before Dr. Gaul announced her intentions to drop the snakes into the arena following the rebel bombing of the arena before the games and the death of the President’s son.

The snakes erupted into the arena, easily taking out the remaining tributes until only Lucy Grey and Coral were left, vying to stay alive, trying to attack each other

As the snakes slithered over both of them, Lucy Grey began to sing.

Coral was overtaken by the colorful serpents, but for some reason, Lucy Grey didn’t met the same fate.

“Why aren’t they attacking her??” You questioned.

“I think it’s the singing!” Coriolanus responded and you narrowed your eyes at him, feeling a strange suspicion growing in the back of your mind.

Dr. Gaul had clearly not expected the academy students to react so strongly to Lucy Grey’s performance, her voice captivated everyone in the hall, even you.

“Dr. Gaul, please!” Coriolanus implored her again, and to your surprise, the rest of the students in the hall began to chant.

“Stop the games! Stop the games! Stop the games!”

She clearly knew when she was outnumbered, and she stared at the screen as the snakes crawled over Lucy Grey with a sour look on her face before finally conceding. “Get her out of there!”

Lucy Grey was announced the winner of the 10th Hunger Games, and although you were happy that she had survived, there was a nagging feeling that Coriolanus hadn’t won the games fair and square.

How had Lucy Grey survived the snakes? Where did she get the poison she used to kill Dill? Was it fair that Lucy Grey would have been dead by Coral’s hands had Coriolanus not stepped in and launched the water drones at the career tributes?

The celebrations in the capital among the students after the games lasted several hours, going well into the night.

You had stuck around for most of it, but you found it hard to celebrate Coriolanus’ win.

Because you knew that he hadn’t followed the rules. And the more you thought it over, the more it began to piss you off. You decided that you needed to leave the party, opting to head back to the Games control room you had been in the last several days to see if you could rewatch some footage.

Coriolanus hadn’t seen you in a couple hours, and he couldn’t figure out why that upset him. After all, hadn’t you raised a stink about him using the drones during the Games? If anyone had given your words any merit, he could have been penalized, or maybe even disqualified.

Maybe it was a good idea to try to find you and make sure that you wouldn’t say anything else about it.

When he couldn’t find you at the party, he headed to the Academy, searching through rooms until he found you seated alone, reviewing the games in the control room.

“Funny finding you here.”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, surprised when you whirled around and saw Coriolanus.

“Coriolanus,” you breathed. Why did you suddenly feel so anxious to see him? Could he know that you had suspicions about him? “Why aren’t you still out celebrating?”

“To be honest, I was looking for you.” He admitted, taking a step forward and allowing the door to slam shut behind him.

“You were?” You asked, heartbeat picking up at the sound of the door closing. Coriolanus walked further into the room, eyes locked on you.

“I just.. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened during the games, it wasn’t my intention at all for that water to hit your tribute and her teammates.” You could tell that he was trying to put as much charm on as possible, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were being lied to. “I’m sorry that Coral died in the end.”

“Bullshit.” The words came out of your mouth before you could think them over.

The blond’s eyebrows raised in surprise, jaw clenching as he realized you weren’t buying it. He advanced further, now only a couple feet away from you, and you took a step back. He was now so close that he could smell your familiar floral scent.

You didn’t know why he was trying to get closer to you, but you knew that you really didn’t want him to, continuing to back away from him as he followed.

“You don’t get to just cheat and get away with it. We both know that those snakes should have killed Lucy Grey.”

“You think that I don’t deserve the Plinth prize?” The smell of lavender and honey was clouding his thoughts. Why did you always smell so good?

“Coriolanus I never said-”

“No!” he cut you off, moving closer, and you were surprised when you backed into a wall, feeling intimidated by, and maybe even a bit afraid of, Coriolanus Snow for the first time. Before this moment, you had never really noticed how much taller he was than you. Sure he may have been underfed, but you couldn’t help but take in the muscles that strained the fabric near his biceps and shoulders as he towered above you. “I work harder than everyone else here, and what do I get most of the time? Scraps! All you have to do is cry once in class and every professor would line up to fuck you, and yet you still never took me seriously, Y/N.”

Your eyebrows shot up at his harsh words, frustration building in your chest. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, even though you could feel a lump forming in your throat and tears began to blur your vision. You couldn’t understand what his problem was with you, why he seemed to hate you so much. The snippy retort you had planned died on your lips when you saw his eyes darken.

“What? It’s not like it’s not true. Everyone has heard the rumors about your good grades. The only reason your tribute got as far as she did was because she was District 4!” His words were taunting, cruel even, and you hated the way he was looking down at you, as if you were nothing to him. Despite how furious he was with you in this moment, he couldn’t help but fixate on the scent of your perfume, it was clinging to the air and choking him, taunting him.

“I can’t believe this, I helped you out through the entire games! It was my idea to visit the tributes! I let you give my food to Lucy Grey! You know, there was a voice in the back of my head, Coriolanus, a voice that I tried to ignore, but I knew all along that letting you come with me to meet them was a bad idea!” Your harsh words stung him, and a fire was building inside his chest. He didn’t know why your anger towards him was affecting him so much.

“The only reason Lucy Gray won was because you cheated and everyone is going to find out-!” You were cut off when his large hand grabbed your throat, pushing you against the wall behind you and constricting your airflow. Your eyes widened, and Coriolanus thought to himself that he enjoyed the utter fear and panic in your eyes.

“You’re right,” he looked down at you, a smirk beginning to tug at his lips. “I never would have thought to go to visit the tributes. Because of your idea, I was able to turn the spotlight on to Lucy Grey instead of you.”

Suddenly he realized why he had been so fixated on you for so long, why he had been so eager to follow you to the train station the day of the tribute assignments, why his thoughts torturously lingered on the smell of your perfume and the way your hair framed your annoyingly perfect face, and why he got hard as a rock every time he imagined you pleasuring your professors to pass your classes.

All his life, Coriolanus had been desperately searching for control. After the rebels took everything from him, he had spent his childhood and teenage years powerless. Even Lucy Gray couldn’t completely be his, they said she was going to be shipped back to District 12 after the Games, but Coriolanus was sure he would never see her again. You had been handed everything that he had ever wanted, save the Plinth prize.

Maybe, the Plinth prize hadn’t been what he was after all along, he realized with a shock. Coriolanus hadn’t spent all those hours obsessing over you because he believed he was owed the Plinth prize. He had done it because he believed he was owed you.

Fear had your feet frozen in place, your body felt paralyzed. Was he going to hurt you or, worse, kill you??

The very last thing that you expected Coriolanus Snow to do in that moment was kiss you.

With his strong hand practically crushing your windpipe and pinning you in place, you had nowhere to turn when he pressed his lips to yours. His lips were warm, and softer than anyone else you had kissed, which was a horrible thing to notice in a situation like this.

You struggled against him, trying to shove him off of you to no avail, and the hand at your throat tightened. When you gasped for breath, Coryo took the opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth. The feeling stirred something between your legs, a warmth began to dampen the panties you were wearing beneath your skirt, and your cheeks heated up in tandem, a hot flush breaking out across your face.

Tears began to prick at your eyes, and you let them gather there, foolishly hoping that if they could blot out the man in front of you, he might just go away.

Within a moment, your brain began to work again and you used your nails to scratch at the hand at your throat, breaking free at last. Your reprieve was much too brief, no sooner than the hurried “help!” fell past your lips, the blond struck you across the face, shocking you into silence again.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I’m going to hurt you, do you understand?” He hissed in your ear, not giving you any time at all before pulling you away from the wall by your neck and then forcing you to your knees in front of him. “No one else is here, they’re all out celebrating my victory.”

You winced at the sharp pain in your kneecaps, but more alarming was the look on your classmate’s face. You had always thought that Coriolanus held himself with dignity, that he was maybe even handsome, but this was a side of Coryo you had never seen before. His hair was disheveled from pushing you around, and his breath came in fast, uneven bursts. There was a deadly glint in his eyes that terrified you. He was clearly amused by your frightened state, the way his eyes drank you in pityingly did nothing to calm your nerves.

“You’re going to show me how you passed your classes all these years, Y/N,” Coryo sneered, laughing mirthlessly at his joke. To your horror, he brought his hands to his belt, undoing the buckle before unzipping the fly of his pants.

Your stomach dropped, shame blossoming through your entire body.

The honest truth was that you were a virgin.

You had never given any professors sexual favors or used your good looks to advance further than your classmates. Yes, you sometimes struggled with concepts in class, but you more than made up for it with after school study sessions and the frequent office hour with the academy professors. But you had never done anything close to what he was suggesting.

And yet, here you were, forced to your literal knees, all because Coriolanus Snow was jealous of something that had never happened.

You were pulled from your thoughts with a light slap on the cheek, not intended to hurt you that much, just enough to put you on edge again and get your attention. He was starting to get impatient.

His hard cock was thrust towards your face, and you were surprised and intimidated by how big he was. Coryo’s large hand wrapped around it and began to stroke himself.

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” He asked gruffly, his free hand gripping your chin and forcing you to peer up at him, “you didn’t have any problem opening your pretty mouth earlier.”

Your stomach rolled at his twisted joke and you blinked more tears from your eyes before glancing away. You couldn’t stand to look at him.

“Ah there are those crocodile tears. I wonder, did you cry like this when you came into our professors’ offices after hours? ‘I don’t know how I will pass this course, please, I’d do anything.’” He mocked you, or rather the version of you in his head, with a scowl before spitting out his next words. “So fucking pathetic.”

“C-coriolanus please,” you begged him, eyes shiny with tears.

For just the briefest second, doubt about his actions tonight passed through his heart, but it was gone the next moment when he felt his cock harden at your sweet voice whimpering his name and the delicious sight of you kneeling before him. You wanted this just as bad as he did, he knew it.

Coriolanus grabbed you by your chin, pulling you even closer before guiding his cock towards your trembling lips. When you didn’t open your mouth, his fingers clenched down on your jaw, and after you cried out, he took the opportunity to tilt his hips forward, pushing the tip of his cock past your lips.

He groaned at the feeling of your soft wet mouth enveloping him. Coryo slowly thrusted his dick deeper and when you gagged on him, throat closing up after he pushed you too far, he could have sworn he was in heaven.

The blond tangled his fingers into your hair, pushing you to go faster as you bobbed up and down. He didn’t want to close his eyes for one second, drinking in every detail he could. The way you glanced up at him through your teary eyes in fear, the lewd sounds of you sucking him off, how you could barely take all of his throbbing dick into your mouth, and the spit that gathered sloppily on your chin only drove on his pace.

There was something deeply satisfying to Coriolanus about breaking you, about shattering the idea that you were ever anything but a cock drunk whore. He knew that he had to be correct, because the evidence was right in front of him.

An innocent girl wouldn’t have led him on for so damn long. An innocent girl wouldn’t know how to take cock so well. An innocent girl wouldn’t be choking and gagging on him like one of the pin up girls he’d seen after his school buddies found their fathers’ old snuff film collections from before the war.

“You might have fooled everyone else, but you can’t trick me, Y/N,” he whispered, pulling harder on your hair and you yelped, or maybe moaned, around him, sending a sinful vibration across the tip and shaft of his cock.

“You’re doing such a good job, it’s only right I give you what you’ve wanted all along.” Coriolanus slowed his movements, using the fist in your hair to move you and let his cock slide out of your mouth. You gasped for air then, but your relief was short lived and bittersweet.

“Take off your clothes and get on your back, Y/N.” His voice was cold as snow, leaving no room for disagreement. You were terrified, completely unprepared in every way for what was coming. Coriolanus glared at you threateningly when you didn’t move for a few seconds, and resignedly, you stripped off your shirt and skirt, shifting yourself onto your back on the cold hard floor.

You already felt utterly exposed in just your bra and panties, but the look of disapproval in his eyes told you that you had to remove your underwear as well. You slowly unhooked your bra, sliding the straps down your arms to pull it off and Coryo felt his mouth water at the sight of your perfect breasts. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, climbing on top of you before you could get to your panties, straddling you and covering your lips with his own again.

This time, he noticed that you were resisting less, even kissing him back now. He had been right, you were teasing him and leading him on this entire time! This thought both encouraged and infuriated him, and he knew there was one way to confirm his suspicions.

His hand wandered lower past your stomach, eagerly reaching for your barely covered pussy. He pushed the material of your panties to the side, slowly dragging the tip of his finger down your embarrassingly wet slit.

You tensed at the feeling, biting your lip to stifle the whimper that threatened to sneak past, and Coryo noticed your efforts.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I know you want it too,” he whispered above you, slowly pushing two fingers into your tight cunt. “You don’t have to pretend that you don’t.”

His intrusion was painful and uncomfortable, you had never experienced anything like it. Coryo’s eyes were locked on your face as he lazily pushed his fingers in and out. His cock twitched every time you moaned, and he was eager to stuff your pretty swollen cunt.

Tears were filling your eyes again and you sniffled pathetically, shifting your hips to try to adjust to the foreign pressure between your legs, which Coryo interpreted as you trying to fuck yourself deeper onto his fingers.

“Greedy little slut, can’t wait till I split you open, hm?” He sneered cruelly and your face burned with shame. “Don’t cry, I’ll give you what you’re too proud to admit you need.”

He pulled his fingers out of your already sore pussy, smearing your juices on the soft flesh of your inner thigh, before grabbing your panties and pulling them down your legs, not caring that his force ripped them. Coryo grabbed your thighs, holding them open and pressing them down against the floor, not allowing you to squirm in his grasp, before lining his now throbbing cock up with your slick entrance.

Primal fear clutched your heart again, was this truly happening right now? How in the world did you get yourself into this situation with Coriolanus Snow of all people? Your first time was supposed to be special, shared with someone who felt love and compassion towards you.

Instead, you were utterly terrified of the man leering above you. You were surprised when you felt his hand clamp over your mouth, but you didn’t have any time to linger on that thought because Coriolanus was slowly pushing the head of his cock into your heat.

You couldn’t help but whimper against his palm at the feel of him beginning to stretch you out, and Coryo cursed under his breath when he slid deeper, feeling you squeeze tighter around each inch until he felt himself bottom out inside you. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thigh, giving him better leverage.

He took a moment to just bask in the feeling of you enveloping him, you were clenching around his cock so tight it was almost painful for him. He began to move his hips slowly at first, and when you let out a breathy moan at the feel, he felt confidence surge inside of him.

Coryo could literally feel you growing wetter with each thrust, allowing him to pull further out before plunging himself back in. You were gripping him so tight and your arousal only let him fuck you faster and harder. He hooked one hand under your thigh, pulling it up to wrap your leg around the back of his waist.

The new angle allowed him to go deeper, and you felt like you were being split in half, the pressure was so intense.

He slid his large hand away from covering your mouth and brought it back to your throat, wrapping the hand around it and applying pressure. You tensed around him and Coriolanus cursed at the sensation.

The blond was pushing his cock into you faster now, snapping his hips against yours at a pace that had your head spinning. Every drag of his cock against your walls made your toes curl. Coriolanus was addicted to way he could feel every moan and whimper in your throat against the hand that was choking you. Even if you wouldn’t let him hear them, he knew that he was making you feel good, whether you wanted him to or not.

His free hand creeped from your hip to find its home between your legs, earning a whine from you when he swirled the pad of his thumb across your clit. Coryo could feel you quivering around him, twitching beneath every touch.

He wanted to be closer to you still, and you flinched when his lips found yours again, his chest now pressed to yours and caging you in. You were too disgusted to kiss him back at first, but fear overtook your reservations when he clenched his hand around your throat harder. Your lips moved in time with his and you moaned against him when he rubbed your clit again.

The blond broke the kiss to attach his lips to the soft skin at the side of your neck, moving his hand to allow himself access to bite and suck at your tender flesh.

“Don’t fight it, I can feel your cunt pulling me in,” he growled in your ear and you shuddered at his words.

As his sharp thrusts rocked your frame, you realized that your cheeks were damp with tears. Had you started crying again? Maybe you had never stopped.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Coryo breathlessly admitted, to both you and himself. His eyes were fixed on your face, trying to commit every detail to memory.

“I thought you hated me,” you whimpered quietly, not sure if it was even loud enough for Coryo to hear. The whole building was silent, aside from the crude sounds of him plunging his cock into your slick folds and your stifled moans. You had almost forgotten that you had said something until he suddenly spoke.

“I thought I hated you too,” his voice was strained as he held back groans. “But then I realized how useful you could be if I kept you around.”

You already wanted to crawl out of your skin at his words, but the next thing he said made your blood turn cold.

“Did your parents pay for you to get birth control so their stupid daughter doesn’t get knocked up by her professors?” He asked you with a cruel glint in his eyes.

You understood his meaning instantly, shaking your head with widening eyes, “N-no! Coriolanus, please don’t-!” You were cut off by his hand clamping over your mouth again.

“Hmm, pity,” he taunted you, chuckling darkly, “better hope they’ll be willing to pay for an abortion.”

At this, you found your last bit of strength to fight back, scratching at the hand that was at your throat and trying to force him off of you, but your pathetic attempts only made him laugh.

Coryo’s hand clamped down around your throat, choking you harder than he had before. You could hear your heartbeat racing in your ears and the edges of your vision had started to go black.

His cock was hitting a spot that had your toes curling in unwelcome pleasure, and when you felt his fingers twitch around your throat again, the overstimulation was just too much for you.

You whined loudly as your orgasm forcefully washed over you, the tension that had been building inside you finally releasing itself. Coriolanus could feel you clenching and fluttering around him, squeezing his cock so fucking tight.

With another flex of his hips, he came, spilling his sticky seed into you as he groaned your name. You were pulsing around him, milking his cock of every last drop.

When he stilled, he stayed on top of you, finally releasing your now bruised throat. You tried to turn your head away from him, but he grabbed your chin and forced you to look in his eyes for a moment before his lips smothered yours again.

When he finally pulled away, he grinned down at you wolfishly, “fuck, Y/N. If I were one of our professors, I’d pass you too.”

[beesmygod]

we can all look back on and laugh at this when im wrong, but it seems like social media in its current incarnation is dying an undignified and overdue death. it turns out throwing all of humanity into one room and expecting everyone to develop a single ethos was beyond insane conceptually and the artists who built their following on social media are probably in a tail spin right now. people jumping to bluesky are insane lol. did you forget jack dorsey is the idiot who got us into this mess in the first place. why would you choose to subject yourself to this shit again. for what purpose?

the stock answer i got was that "for discoverability/audience" and if that's true thats a problem. i've been hollerin about this to anyone who would listen prior to this but the customer base of twitter (and all social media) is its advertisers. they have not been shy from the start about that fact because its the only way they generate income, as far as i know. YOU (the user) are the product. YOU (still the user) are also what draws people to the site. there is not a social media website on earth that has figured out that making a good website (which would require hiring and paying for quality labor over an extended period of time) is more likely to result in economic success than exclusively courting the businesses whose interest is in making the website worse to use with ads. at no point were our interests ever a factor.

in fact, imo, the number of people following you is not an accurate representational sample of your audience. the reasonable assumption you should make is that the vast majority of numbers involved with any website (esp those with a vested interest in showing off big numbers to VC investors or advertising execs) are inflated or just outright fake. the numbers exist solely to drive you insane and make awful people happy. the numbers cause you and everyone around you to start spontaneously spawning myths about a beast called "the algorithm" that possesses the incredible traits of being both something you can game for success or blame for your failures. it coerces you into enacting out nonsense superstitions to try to counteract or appease it in the hopes of, let's be honest, breaking it big and going viral. this way, you, the creator, do not have to do the hard work of building up a rapport with an audience. none of this goes anything but adds more numbers for the ceos to look at and nod approvingly or disapprovingly at.

the people running the world today are, without exaggeration, cartoon villains. they are deeply stupid, devoid of empathy, and open about their intent to do deeply evil acts in order to further their economic interests. trying to derive some kind of financial benefit from the creations of these unapologetic losers was always bound to be a wasted effort. the best thing i can say about twitter, a website i was banned from countless times and returned to out of stubborn desire, was that i got to make some great jokes with friends and cause some chaos lol. letting people know i have a web comic was always a secondary function once the realization of what social media was turning out to be set in like 7 years ago. any artist who insists that you have to do this or that on this or that social media site is trying to drag you down into the quagmire of online numbers poisoning.

run away!!! children heed my advice!!! the joy of creation does not lie on a path that encourages you to cater to the lowest common denominators while casting your net. just fucking have fun with it. if its not fun then it wont even be fun to do financially anyway. and isnt that, like. the point.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Power of a hug feat mk1 Johnny Cage, Bi-Han, Kenshi Takahashi author note:as my fave memer said "the wettest and most humid kiss is nothing in comparison to the power of an hug". There are other characters that I have in mind with this prompt so I hope the post will go well lol.

tw: Kenshi part is suggestive.

You are used to being alone, you have been for most of your years, and you are sure Johnny would never describe you as clingy. You give him his space, he gives you yours, nice and comfortable. That’s why when he told you about this expedition that was going to take him a long time and far away, you didn’t budge, just kissed him goodbye and told him to come back in one piece.

Okay, the departure wasn’t so blunt, and maybe there weren’t just kisses and maybe you were sobbing while telling him to be safe because you knew that Johnny wasn’t going out for a movie, but this is the gist of it.

And now you are sitting on Johnny’s armchair, wearing his favorite cover, the one dripping off his perfume, reading, trying to get your mind elsewhere while your heart silently shouts in pain, while your brain screams at it to shut up, because you are strong and even if you haven’t heard him for 2 months you shouldn’t miss him so much, because you are independent and yadda yadda; you miss him so much you’d curl up in a hole and get moldy there.

You sit there, ‘till you recognize a familiar sound, “is that Liu Kang voice?” you think, already standing up. There are other voices outside the house, but soon they all fade when you hear one in particular.

It’s Johnny’s one.

You’d like to stay in, wait for him inside nonchalantly walking towards him to greet your boyfriend as elegantly as you can muster.

Outside is snowing and you are wearing shorts (made of wool, but still shorts) and slippers but your mind simply doesn’t work, heart beating freely, pumping blood with new vigor.

“Johnny!” You open the door, freezing air hitting your body with full force, but you feel nothing.

Your legs run toward your boyfriend before your mind perceives your action. He turns around at your voice, and he is so beautiful your legs almost give up…almost.

“Oh-“ You jump in his arms, knocking him a few steps behind, not noticing all the gifts he had to throw on the ground to take you. You sigh in his arms, his strong arms now enveloping your shivering body “Kitty, are you shivering because you missed me?” He jokingly says,

“Yeah, it’s because I missed you so much.”  Your voice breaks, your arms around his neck, legs gripping his waist as tightly as you can.

His hands slid on your thighs, thumbs drawing hearts on your skin, no goose-bumps, he is so warm and you are so full of love that you can’t feel anything else anymore.

Your foreheads kiss, breaths mingling, smiles stuck on both of your faces, warm brown eyes locked into yours.

His friends are long gone, leaving the two lovebirds alone.

He had to leave you there, in a snowstorm in the hands of the enemies, alone. You always have a plan, they always work out that’s why he trusts you so much even if you are a total dumbass.

“Go Bi-Han, don’t worry for me.” Your voice was trembling, you knew that you couldn’t survive and you also knew that he needed to return home alive.

And he follows your order because you are always right and things always go your way. Even when you are against him. Even when you tease him making his ears flush red. You always come up victorius.

Bi-Han stops on his track, snow falling on his shoulders. He can’t breathe. He hates you.

He’d like to sit there and let snow bury him. He can’t, he is Lin Kuei grandmaster whose willpower never waver, and who is headstrong like nobody else. Bi-Han has seen dear ones die in front of his eyes, betray him, this time mustn’t be any different.

Bi-Han feels like crying. You aren’t a fighter, but he wanted to bring you with him because nobody could outsmart you, and your brain was needed for this mission.

What an idiot. He tightens his fists, eyes closed so tight that wrinkles appear at the corners, no punishment would be enough for his mistake, never enough whips, never enough slaps.

He stays there a few more minutes, he couldn’t go back home, not ‘till he won’t be sure tears wouldn’t spill from his eyes.

Then he hears a voice, more like a whine, but it’s something he has heard many times before. Bi-Han starts to run towards the voice, walking much harder with so much snow.

“Told you-“ You are there, sitting on the snow, trembling like a newborn kitty, eyes shining, and with that shit-eating grin of yours “my plans never fail!” He crouches down towards you, he must be going crazy, his index and middle fingers pinch your cheek.

“Ouch! Why did you do that?” You are there, real, talking to him like you didn’t say goodbye to him a few minutes prior. He sits next to you, onyx eyes wide.

“You are alive” He is able to say, voice hoarse as always, mask reducing the sound to a mere whisper.

“Yeah, I would have never let anyone take my life, they have to get in line you know? Since you were the first one to promise me you were going to-“

Bi-Han doesn’t let you finish the phrase, his arms hugging your torso so close and so strongly against his body that he knocks air out of your lungs.

“I was so worried.” His right hand grips the back of your head, holding it in the nook of his neck. His voice trembles and he feels you stilling in his arms. He can feel your warm breath on his neck, your chest rising up and down at each breath you take; you are alive.

He almost lost you.

You free your head from his grip, thin ice on your hair like a veil made by his unrestrained magic, your hands now slowly removing his mask, showing you his trembling lips, you look at his eyes, he knows they are watery, his vision is foggy. Then your delicate fingers grip the collar of his uniform, your lips pressing for the first time against his.

It is a short moment, Bi-Han closes his eyes, and when he opens them your lips aren’t there anymore, but he still feels something warm; your arms reciprocating the hug.

It is suffocating but at the same time makes him feel alive, a warmth that envelops him entirely, that makes his heart run like a wild horse, but that puts his mind at ease; he is safe, you are too in his arms.

He couldn’t ask for more.

“K-Kenshi-“ You gasp, your hips grinding onto his, his tattoed hands running from your chest to your tummy, never resting, never letting you go.

He missed you. Kenshi missed you terribly. It wasn’t just sex, as good as it is, he missed your voice, your hands in his ones, your gentle lips on his cheeks. He missed hearing you talking about your day, about that terrible co-worker. He missed hearing your laughter and your hands massaging his scalp when he felt particularly stressed.

A moan dies in his throat after a delicious roll of your hips. Yeah, he missed this too.

You are close he can feel it and he is not far behind, but there is still something he desperately needs to do.

He lifts up, sitting now, his arms around your waist, hands on your lower back, both guiding your movements and keeping you close to his chest.

“I missed you so much-“ A whimper leaves his mouth, he can feel your lips so close to his, your breath labored, your body so close creates a delicious friction that just makes his mind fog even more.

“Me too, me too-“ You hug him back, your arms tight against his back, nails scratching his back while he helps you both reach completion.

You keep each other close, breaths still heavy, bodies sweaty.

“I missed you so much.” You are the first one to break the silence, Kenshi notices a hint of sadness.

Hint that became something more when the hand caressing your cheek meets a tear. The pang he feels in his heart hurts so much, but he also knows it is deserved.

“Me too honey, me too.” His right hand massages the back of your head, while the other traces heart-shaped patterns on your back.

Kenshi doesn’t let go, now laying on your shared bed, you on top of him. He can’t see your face, but losing sight made him more sensible, noticing every gasp leaving your lips, every twitch of your muscles.

He restrains himself, he can’t cry, but every gasp that leaves your lips is like a stab in his chest, each tear pulling your body closer, your hearts beating in synchronized sorrow.

But Kenshi can’t tell you that next time it will be different. He can’t reassure you that he will be safe.

He keeps you close to his chest ‘till he feels your breath slowing down, now stable. Kenshi keeps caressing your back, feeling his muscles relax, exhaustion washing over him too.

Kenshi soon falls asleep, wishing to still have you in his arms when he’ll regain consciousness the next morning.

[babygirlmurdock]

Confessions

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Foggy drops a very drunk Matt on your doorstep one night, which leads to confessions.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption

a/n: Got this idea from the writing prompt: “You're drunk." "Yes. And hopelessly in love with you." - from @creativepromptsforwriting and I love a little “i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this” (iykyk). Also I was listening to You Are In Love by Taylor Swift writing this, although it doesn’t have direct correlation, I just love that song LOL. Please enjoy<3

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*: ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔

You were sound asleep until you heard a loud ringtone erupt from your bedside table. There’s only one person whose calls surpass your do not disturb.

Matt.

You saw his contact photo and answered groggily, “hello?”

“Hey,” this was not Matt’s voice. “Matt’s, uh, really drunk right now. Someone had the great idea to do shots tonight…” Foggy was trying his best to sound normal over the phone, but he was clearly not sober.

You sat up, scrubbed your hand over your face and glanced over to your clock. 2:17 am. “Foggy, it’s 2 in the morning, I have work tomorrow, you can’t get Matt back to his apartment?” You complained to him. Matt was your closest friend. Grew up going to the same church in Hell’s Kitchen. He was kind of the loner kid, so one day you befriended him and you’ve been close ever since.

“He keeps saying he wants to see you! He kept babbling your name, so we’re about a block away from your apartment now. See you in a few!” Foggy cheerfully said not really giving you a choice.

“Foggy wai—aaand he hung up. Great,” you said to yourself before putting your phone back on your bedside table. You put on the closest sweatpants you found on your floor and one of your sweatshirts. After you found your slippers, you putzed downstairs to retrieve your inebriated friend. When you got outside, you heard the boys laughing from half way down the block. You sat on your stairs leading to your apartment while you waited for your two bumbling idiots.

Matt slurred your name as he approached and almost ate shit half jogging to you. “Jesus christ, Matt be careful it’s dark out here,” you scolded him.

“It’s all dark to me,” Matt laughed at you.

“Alright I walked into that, dick. Hey, thanks for bringing him at least… here. I’ll hydrate him and make sure he’s okay for work tomorrow,” you gave a ‘you owe me’ look over to Foggy as he said goodbye to you. You and Matt made your way up to your apartment.

You closed the door behind you after Matt stumbled in, took his glasses off and put them in his jacket pocket then put his cane on the wall. “Thank you for taking me in tonight, you’re a really good person,” Matt said, pulling you in for a hug.

“God, Murdock, you wreak of tequila,” you pulled away from his strong hug. “I’m gonna bitch Foggy out tomorrow for getting you this drunk on a work night. Why don’t you try to take a shower, I still have an old boyfriend’s sweats in my drawer. They should fit you,” you heard Matt huff as you went to your bedroom to grab the sweats and one of his shirts you stole from him and never gave back.

You knocked on the bathroom door and shouted that you left the shirt and sweats outside the door when he’s done. You went to the kitchen to grab aspirin and make him a Liquid IV mocktail. You really didn’t care if he was going hate the taste of it, it’s nearly 2:30 AM and you want him to go to sleep on your couch quickly. You heard the shower shut off and the door open and close again assuming Matt grabbed the clothing you provided him.

“Your body wash smells girly,” Matt commented as he made his way over to the couch to sit next to you.

“It’s almost like I am a girl… here drink this, take these. You know how I get with people puking and I don’t need any of that tomorrow morning and I know how pissy you get when you have a headache,” you handed Matt the glass and put the pills in his hand.

Matt put the pills in his mouth and swallowed them with the electrolyte mixture you gave him only to have him twist his face in disgust. “What is this? This isn’t water!” Matt protested holding the glass out to you signaling he didn’t want anymore.

“It’s liquid IV, it’s electrolytes. Supposed to hydrate you faster, a coworker suggested them for me when I had the stomach bug. Drink it,” You sternly said. You swore taking care of drunk Matt was like taking care of a stubborn toddler that didn’t want to eat their vegetables. He rolled his eyes and took another gulp out of the glass.

“You know, you should come out with the firm. Instead of being a stick in the mud,” Matt suggested, leaning into you. You huffed out in annoyance.

“Sorry I like my 8 hours of sleep and I’m not my own boss, sue me!” You threw your hands up in protest, “which my sleep is being rudely interrupted by the way.”

Matt leaned in a little closer to you, “your voice goes higher when you get mad at me.” You felt his body get close to you in a way that didn’t feel platonic. “And you breathe faster.”

“Most people breathe faster when they’re inconvenienced, Matt,” you tried to steady your breathing, trying not to sound flustered.

You and Matt knew each other on such a deep level that no one else got you like him and vise versa. Matt trusted you with his secrets and you trust him with yours. You were his first friend in the church. Learning about his dad’s death, being the first one to know he got into his top law school and staying up with him to help him study for the Bar Exam. You’ve been through everything together.

You’d be moronic to think that Matt wasn’t attractive. This man pulls any woman that he wants and you have to be the one to hear about the women he brings home. Whether that be positive or negative. You never thought about your friendship with him other than strictly platonic. Other than that one time you were dared to kiss him when you were 9 on the playground but you both always said that never counted as a real kiss because it was just a peck anyway. But to you, it was your first kiss. You loved telling the other girls at school that you kissed sweet Matt Murdock under the slide at recess.

Seeing Matt date these other girls but never give you the chance seemed like you two were just platonic. Nothing more. Plus you’re not his type, you’ve seen the women he has dated. Supermodel type. Not you. So you buried that feeling deep, deep down and hoped one day it would never be dug up again.

“You know I can hear your heart,” Matt said your name in a husky tone. “And it’s beating awfully loud…” Matt’s face was dangerously close to yours. Mere inches away from one another.

“You know— you know I don’t like when you listen to my heartbeat without my consent, Matthew.”

“And I like it when you call me Matthew. I like the sound of your voice. Have I ever told you that?” Matt’s eyebrows rose up as he drunkingly smirked at you.

“Matt, you’re drunk. I’m going to bed,” you stood up from the couch to make your way to your room.

“I’m in love with you.”

Those words made you stop dead in your tracks. “You—huh?” You whipped around looking at him in disbelief.

“I am. In love with you,” Matt looked up upon you. “Have been for the past few years now. I just never knew how to tell you. And—and I went out with Foggy tonight and ended up drinking way more than I remember. He was the first one to know. He finally pushed me tonight to say something to you. That’s why I’m here. I didn’t want to tell you. I never wanted to ruin our friendship. You’re so special to me, I—I didn’t want to fuck this up.” Matt’s voice slowly started to gain sobriety the more he spoke.

“Matty– I…” you trailed off. Matt Murdock is in love with you. You never thought you’d hear the words you buried come from his mouth.

Before you could finish, Matt cut you off, “I understand if you don’t feel the same. But you have to tell me now so I can get over it. Get over you.”

“No I.. I just—I need to process this information. When did you start feeling this way?” You sat down in the arm chair across from your couch.

“Maybe a few years ago. I always thought you were one of the best people I know. But those platonic thoughts… eventually turned… romantic. Specifically when you came to me with nowhere to go when your ex boyfriend kicked you out after he found out that you were still friends with me and Foggy. God, I hated hearing about him. You deserved better. I learned that night, holding you, while you cried, that I loved you more than a friend. But then came more flings, then I realized you probably didn’t feel the same way. So those feelings were shoved down. Until now,” Matt’s head hung low, looking like he regretted everything that was spewed out of his mouth. Word vomit is better than actual vomit. Although, you felt like you were actually going to vomit.

You stared at him, your heart felt like it was going to come up out of your throat. You knew you felt the same way. But god forbid you dated, and broke up, you didn’t want to lose him. You cherished him so much. The dead air hung there waiting to be brought back to life.

“Please say something,” Matt begged you.

“Matt, I’ve felt this way about you for years. But being me, I never wanted to say anything because I feared losing you,” your voice cracked as your continued, “I feared dating you and potentially breaking up and never having you in my life again.”

You knew Matt could hear your heartbeat out your chest. Your mind was going a million miles a minute processing this. The wave of relief hit Matt like a tsunami. He looked up with his eyes glossy with tears. You got up, made your way to the couch and sat down next to him.

“I don’t want to jump into a relationship with you right away though. I want to be really cautious. I want to kiss you in the worst way but—“

“So do it,” Matt interrupted you.

“If you’d let me finish—“

“I will be doing plenty of that,” Matt smirked at you.

“Shut up and listen to me! I want to kiss you, but I want to take this really slow, Matty. My last long term relationship, as you know, tore me apart. And I’m still healing from that. Doesn’t mean I’m not over him, because I am. But I’m so scared of being kicked out of the blue,” you said looking into his eyes. Your heart was steady and loud. Which meant you were being really serious. You didn’t want to dive in head first and say to the world you were boyfriend & girlfriend.

“Okay. We can do that. Whatever it takes to do this right, sweetie. That being said, can I take you on a date? There’s a wine bar that just opened we can go to. I know how much you love your wine,” Matt teased you about your love for wine.

“Yes you can take me on a date, Matty. I’d love to. Saturday?” You smiled at him. Your first date with Matt Murdock. You’ve only dreamed about him taking you out on a date. “I feel like a teenager right now. My first date with you!” You said all giddy.

Matt laughed at you, “Saturday. It’s a date. it’s cute when you get all flustered. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that over the last few years.”

“What the fuck? I thought I was hiding that so well!” You exclaimed.

“You have to remember,” Matt leaned, inches away from your face, “I can hear everything.”

“Fuck, you’re making it so hard not to kiss you. Not until after the first date though,” you tapped his nose with your finger teasingly.

“Already breaking my heart,” Matt pouted and put his hand over his heart dramatically. You laughed at him. Everything started to look like it was in technicolor. It started making sense. All those years ago, Matt touching your arm lingering his fingers. Him always complimenting you in such poetic ways. None of it was accidental. He wanted you in the same ways all along. You were too oblivious to notice his actions. You couldn’t wait until Saturday to have your first date with Matthew Murdock.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*: ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ

tags: @yarrystyleeza

I feel like this fic can potentially have a set up for a part to for our reader and Matt on their first date? 👀

All credit to the original gif owner!

[celeryb1tch]

how you and spencer meet!

receptionist!reader starts a new job at the BAU, and a very handsome coworker shows her around!

content: meet cute, fem!reader, pov you’re an idiot who’s sensitive to blood, fainting for the plot and not in the way it works in real life lol, confident-ish but pretty canon compliant mid-seasons spencer!

—

the FBI certainly isn’t the place for squeamish little pansies…

at least, that’s what you were told in your interview. and you had nodded diligently, ignoring the lump in your throat as you thought about how you almost fainted the last time you had bloodwork done. but as a secretary, how bad could it get, right? you tried to assure yourself of this when you got the job offer.

on a brisk friday morning, you were wandering through the FBI Academy campus in an attempt to find your office. everyone around you seemed to be in a hurry, and no one had given you the time of day when you attempted to ask for directions. so fifteen minutes before your first day started, opposed to the promised half hour, you entered the NSAVC building with your tail between your legs.

the bullpen was empty. you had expected to be met by a trainer, or perhaps the person whose job you would be taking over, but you instead faced a grouping of empty desks. as you peered around the open area, your eyes landed on a conference room with large windows, allowing you to see a group of agents. with a sigh of relief, you headed up the stairs and knocked on the door lightly before letting yourself in.

before you was a circular table seating five people, all with their eyes trained directly on you. “hi!” you chirped. “i was looking for-“

“i think you’re lost, miss. students shouldn’t be allowed access into this department,” demanded a man in a full suit, who seemed to be in charge.

your smile faded as you saw the various displeased faces looking back at you. “oh no, i’m not…” in an attempt to avoid eye contact, you raised your sight to the opposite wall, projector casting images of open wounds and a dismembered corpse. and in only a second, your vision was going black.

—

the white of fluorescent bulbs seared even through to the inside of your eyelids, but despite this you still blinked a few times to shake the disorientation and open your eyes.

your legs were eased up in the air with a chair, brand new pencil skirt hiked slightly up your thighs. you felt the texture of carpet against your back through your blouse and the cool of ice on your forehead. your first instinct was to sit up and reorient yourself, which you tried to no avail.

“hey, hey, easy,” an unidentifiable voice said soothingly. you scanned your surroundings, finding a man with chin length chestnut hair in your periphery who couldn’t be much older than you. he was crouched beside you, apple juice box in hand and concern in his eyes. god, his eyes were pretty, you thought. like pools of dappled sunlight.

it took you a few seconds to recognize him as one of the displeased members of the conference room, and the previous events rushed back to you, bringing a flush to your cheeks. “i am so sorry, sir. um, agent. detective? there was a misunderstanding, and that was so unprofessional of me.”

he had a small smile playing on his lips as he scanned your face. he seemed to be entertained by the fact that you were so flustered, letting you finish rambling before he replied. “doctor spencer reid, and no worries at all. a freeze response to gore is a fairly common reaction. while you were unconscious we were able to identify you as the new front desk secretary, we thought you were starting next week so we weren’t expecting anyone.”

you visibly relaxed at his explanation. it seemed possible that you wouldn’t be fired on the spot for this. you took the hand he outstretched to you, helping you up from the ground slowly. he offered you the juice box, to which you shook your head. “i’m okay, but thank you.”

“i would recommend it. after fainting it’s likely that your blood sugar is low, and fruit juice is packed with natural sugars that will allow you to feel better almost immediately.”

“doctor’s orders, huh?” you joked, to which he cracked a smile again.

“i’m not exactly that kind of doctor. but yes, i do strongly advise it.”

so you took the juice box, and spencer walked you down the few steps from the office you’d been laying in toward the bullpen. suddenly you were filled with anxiety once again as the faces you had seen minutes ago holding inconvenienced stares now looked on with concern.

the man from before who was so clearly the leader of this operation approached, offering a hand to shake. “supervisory special agent aaron hotchner, i apologize for the misunderstanding.”

you winced away from him slightly, worried that any further mistake would result in you losing the position you had yet to start. “thank you, sir. i am so sorry for interrupting a meeting like that, and fainting. that wasn’t exactly the first impression i wanted.”

he had an easy smile, that of a reassuring father. “i can assure you that no punitive action will be taken, if that’s what you’re concerned about. if we knew you were coming today we would not have left graphic case evidence up on the screen.”

oh, thank god. you exhaled deeply, feeling the tightness in your chest subside. you stepped back toward spencer, whose gaze had never left you. “what should i be doing now? i was never informed of what my training would be, not to mention where my desk is.”

“linda’s out sick today, which is why we thought you weren’t coming until monday,” said the woman sat in the desk rightmost of you. her hair was pure black, with straight, blunt bangs that suited her well.

“we don’t exactly have training for you today without your predecessor here, so i thought you could shadow my agents to familiarize yourself with the office. and i’m happy to show you to your desk, but since you’ll mostly be seeing our faces daily, we should get introductions out of the way first,” agent hotchner said.

you glanced at spencer beside you almost unconsciously, in search of reassurance. despite knowing him for about three minutes, he was the closest thing you had to a friend or ally so far. and seeming to sense this, he shot you a smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes. you felt your anxiety melt a little, and you realized that everything was going to be okay.

—

by lunchtime, you had your things at your desk and nothing to do without a computer login or training. you remembered that hotchner had suggested shadowing someone, but the idea of asking one of the agents made your stomach churn. they sat only a dozen feet away from you, laughing and bantering as if they’d known each other all their lives. who were you to butt into their dynamic? so you sat twiddling your thumbs for the rest of the lunch hour, peeking at the group occasionally to confirm that you hadn’t spontaneously gained the confidence to approach.

spencer specifically appeared to be deep in thought once he got back to work. you thought that it would be best to shadow him if possible, given you were most familiar with the tall brunette, but you really had no business to interrupt his work. still, you worked up the courage to advance to his desk.

“would you like some more coffee, dr. reid? i could go get some for you, you seem pretty busy,” you offered in an attempt at nonchalance. but uncertainty and regret crept up quickly when you received no reply.

emily prentiss, the previously unnamed woman with dark hair, noticed the interaction. with a slight grin on her lips, she interjected. “don’t take it personally. he gets so into his case readings, it’s hard for him to pick up on anything else.”

“hey, pretty boy,” cooed derek morgan from another desk. “someone’s trying to talk to you.”

spencer lifted his head reluctantly, eyes following a moment later. he looked dazed, not quite focused on anything in particular. “sorry, what?”

“i noticed your coffee was almost empty, would you like some more?” you asked meakly. it took everything in you not to run and hide of embarrassment.

he finally registered the question, shaking his head fervently. “no, i couldn’t ask you to do that. i’m perfectly capable of refilling my own coffee, but while i do i could show you the kitchenette? it’s crucial to the operation of the office.”

and with a nod, the two of you headed to the tiny kitchen adjacent to the bullpen. you stood slightly out of the way as spencer placed his mug on the counter, refilling the drip coffee maker for a fresh batch. you watched him card his fingers through his hair, looking around casually.

“so, the kitchen is important why?” you inquired, head tilting slightly to emphasize your interest.

spencer finally met your eyes again, letting out a little breezy laugh. “oh, it’s not. i noticed that you were having trouble potentially asking one of us to show you around, so i thought this was an opportune moment.”

you flushed slightly at the confession, apparently caught red-handed in your effort. “wow, you’re pretty good at reading people. or was i just that transparent?”

“is that a joke?” his eyebrows knotted as he looked at you, no air of humour on his face.

you stared back, equally confused. “am i supposed to know that? do you have a particularly well known judgement of character?”

“well yes, you’re in the behavioural analysis unit.”

and with that, you were sure that you had damaged your ego and reputation in this job position irrevocably.

—

after a brief explanation of the lack of background information provided when accepting the job, spencer assured you that he wouldn’t tell the others. he expressed his surprise that the FBI hadn’t been as diligent as they usually are, and you had to agree.

“i mean, i told them that this was my first job after graduation. i was doing my field placement two months ago, and that was in a law firm!” you stifled a giggle, feeling at ease leaning against the kitchen counter with spencer taking occasional sips of his coffee.

“that’s astounding. they hired me young, but i’d argue that i was overqualified for the position,” he admitted. “you, however…”

you gasped in feigned offence, rolling your eyes. “hey, i learned a lot in that law office! i can photocopy anything you need me to, and schedule dry cleaning for same-day pickup.”

it had been well over a half hour at this point, with you and spencer getting gradually closer until your clothed elbow rubbed against his. no one else had come in, until mid-reply spencer was greeted by agent aaron hotchner himself, who happened to also need a fresh cup of coffee.

“reid, i see that you’ve taken it upon yourself to let our new team member shadow you. but maybe you should show her some places other than the coffee counter?” he suggested with a raised eyebrow.

spencer looked caught, eyes flitting from you to his boss. your boss too, you supposed. “of course. sorry hotch, we got a little caught up.”

“i can see that. as long as you get your files finished by end-of-day, it’s really none of my business.”

“yes, sir,” spencer yelped. he gestured rapidly for you to follow him, exiting the kitchen to return to his desk.

you watched him put his mug down and shuffle some papers around before his eyes lit up in recognition. “i actually do need you to photocopy this for me,” he admitted shyly.

“of course!” you replied, just before your smile dropped. “you actually never showed me where the copier is.”

spencer chuckled with you, getting up from his chair once again. “no problem, i’ll show you.”

and as the two of you began walking down the hallway together, the others laughed upon hearing, “by the way, would you like to go for dinner with me once we clock out? i have a lot more to tell you.”

derek grinned. “i didn’t know that kid had the balls.”

—

(hi guys!! thank you for all of the love on my first spencer post!! i’m having so much fun writing these! psa tho: as i said before, i’m a lesbian i just have a weird thing for this one particular fictional man- so if u follow me, pls expect woman-centred content mostly!!)

[faye-writes-stuff]

welp here we go again

INCORRECT QUOTES TIMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

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Y/n: petition to remove the 'd' from Wednesday Dream: Wednesay Y/n: Not what I had in mind, but I'm flexible

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Y/n: Dream, stop! This isn't you, you've gone mad with power! Dream: Well of course I have. Dream: Have you ever tried going mad without power? Dream: It's boring.

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Y/n: Today is a day of running through hurdles. Ranboo: Aren’t you supposed to jump OVER hurdles? Y/n: Whatever. Fear is only something to be afraid of if you let it scare you.

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Y/n: Ranboo... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor? Ranboo: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned. Y/n: Y/n: I wrote sanitize, Ranboo

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Y/n: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail Sapnap: No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t’ve used my one phone call to prank call the police

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Y/n: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming Sapnap: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak

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George: Welcome, fellow idiots Y/n: Hello, George George: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot Y/n: You underestimate me

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George: *Gets down on one knee* Y/n: Oh my god, it’s finally happening. George: *Falls over* Y/n: The poison is kicking in.

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Tommy: Change is inedible. Y/n: Don't you mean inevitable? Tommy, spitting out coins: No, I did not.

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Tommy: Ok, maybe playing ‘whose family is most dysfunctional’ wasn’t the best idea we’ve had. Y/n's been crying in the bathroom for an hour. We can’t get them out...

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Tubbo: Man, I only ever see you awake, do you ever shut down or stop running? Y/n: Oh, I’m always running Y/n: The question is from what

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Tubbo: I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are. Y/n: It’s not a joke. Y/n: *sniffles* Y/n: I’m a legit snack.

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Foolish: Lol heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this lmfao Y/n: What did you do op? Foolish: A MISTAKE

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Y/n: Foolish... Foolish: Oh no, 'Foolish' in b-flat. Foolish: You're disappointed.

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Technoblade: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE Y/n: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially Technoblade, desperately, as Y/n bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE Y/n: Oh! B positive. Technoblade: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE Y/n:

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Technoblade, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something. Y/n: I saw a squirrel in a tree today! Technoblade, with the tone of someone who is used to Y/n: Outstanding. Technoblade: This is what I’m talking about people.

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Technoblade: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. Y/n: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Technoblade: Absolutely not.

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i accidentally hit post on this too early so if you saw this b4 it was finished- no you didn't

ANYWAYS enjoy, because the last one got over 300 likes so

ic master list :)

[sawbiter]

rivalry - katsuki bakugō

cw - fluff, tiniest bits of angst??, chubby reader, fem reader, rivalry (as the title states lol), competitive reader, yelling, denial of feelings, jealousy, pining, mean guy whose a softie just for his girlfriend type beat. this might not be very in character..

-

bakugo hates you.

god, he really does hate you.

he hates the way your stupid smile makes your chubby cheeks even cuter, he hates the way you always argue back against him, even when he's yelling and everyone else is seated and taking it, you're there telling him to shut the fuck up and stop being such a dickhead. he hates how it hasn't made him angry in months.

he hates how impressed he is with you. you're so soft, so pretty. he hates the beautiful chub on your tummy, how you basically bounce with joy when you laugh.

he hates you, he swears.

-

bakugou hates you, but he can't help but feel jealous when you talk to others.

you're supposed to be his opponent, not izuku's. so stop talking to that damn extra and come argue with him. shit, you don't even have to argue, anything to get you away from that stupid extra and near him.

he's never had thoughts like those before, especially not about someone who fights with him and argues with him constantly.

which is why, when he doesn't know what to do, he picks a fight.

“hey, y/n!” he shouts, and you turn your head, previous beautiful smile still ghosting on your face, “ready to get your ass kicked in training?”

you grin, “as if. i'm gonna leave your ass in the dust, thank you very much.”

he grins, he got the response he wanted, and your attention was off that damn nerd.

-

katsuki ended up winning the first fight.

in the second, he had you pinned beneath him, your pretty face hidden by the ground your face was smushed against.

wait- why the fuck are you suddenly so pretty?

you used this sudden distraction to flip him over, your plush thighs against his chest, keeping him down.

and though he definitely could have flipped you back over; he didn't. you were so, so pretty. your lips looked perfect. you looked perfect.

he was distracted the rest of the day.

he realized why he liked arguing with you so much. and he wasn't no pussy, so he has to do something about it.

-

later that night, katsuki would knock on your door, blushing and angry, shove roses into your hands, and slam your own door in your face.

the note he left with the bouquet was a paragraph long about how much he hated you, but not really. how that this doesn't mean he won't still kick your ass in training.

you would laugh, that beautiful laugh of yours that he hated loved so much, open the door to see him still outside, feeling like a damn idiot waiting in the hallways of the dorms way past his usual sleep time.

you'd laugh at him, before pressing his lips against yours and hugging him tightly. (he wasn't blushing at all, stop lying.)

katsuki hates loves you, but he'll still fight with you any day.