#this is a VERY long ramble under the cut please be warned

[merge-conflict]

thinking about Goro ever leaving Arasaka is such a fun but heartbreaking thing to think about because like– what would truly make him leave? what would destroy his faith and his loyalty so utterly that he'd walk away from his identity? because it's not just a job, being a soldier is who he is, and he's specifically an Arasaka soldier. when he expresses any doubt about the life he's had or what he really wants it's always with an air of inevitability that Arasaka will exist and continue to exist. what's the alternative? he asks V, because he truly doesn't believe there can be one. he can't believe it, or if he does he has to believe it's not worth the cost, because otherwise what has his life been in service of?

but while he's stubborn and loyal, he isn't stupid. he'll deflect v or get angry when they dismiss corporations entirely not because he thinks they're shining forces of good but because he sees fighting against them as naivety. the world is hard, but that's how it is, and fighting against it will only cause more suffering.

and yet. and yet. he is blind in a particular way, that I think comes from his success and the reward for his hard work. certainly there are plenty of people like him, who were smart and worked hard and came from nothing but were never rewarded for that because they didn't do it in quite the right way, or they weren't liked, or they were simply one among hundreds and thousands, just a number on a spreadsheet– they were never someone noticed personally by Saburo Arasaka. he's absolutely conditioned to believe that the system works because it worked for him.

so to come back around to the question– what could shake his faith in that so entirely that he can start to see the lie he's pledged himself to? that this empire, this corporation is truly no better than any other, and is just as disgustingly hypocritical and pathetic when threatened as any other power?

I can see a lot of possible answers to the question, and though I'm a romantic I can't say the answer is just love– he could deny himself that, I'm sure, and any personal sort of happiness. he could tell himself anyone he loved deserves someone who can give their full attention (and how could he ever give Arasaka less than everything he has? even for his suicidal revenge he means it as a warning, a rallying cry, for Arasaka to save itself from those who would destroy it).

but! the thing about corporations is that they will tell you the rules, and their ideals, and they will enforce them. and you at some point will become a representative of that corp and make promises according to those ideals, and the corp will make a liar of you. whatever trust you've built, whatever standards you hold yourself to in order to maintain your reputation? meaningless. and that more than anything is something I think that Goro would be unable to accept, that something that was his responsibility and his promise was broken without remorse or even consultation. perhaps he could counsel himself through that doubt, and remain in the fold, but it would be one of those moments where he is truly vulnerable to break away, and certainly a reason to shake his faith.

even then– even then I don't think he could see it all at once. he's in too deep, and he wants to believe that Arasaka can work so badly, that he's blind to the reality of its existence. so even if he does break free, then what? and I think the answer to that is that he will always want to believe that if juuust a few things were fixed Arasaka would be on the right path, or would be redeemed.

and that deprogramming will take forever to undo, if he ever lived long enough to try it.

anyway I started writing this post because I'm writing that initial break from his pov where he's struggling with it and internally he's just thinking: Maybe if I kill myself righting this wrong Saburo will understand and Arasaka will go back to being something I can feel proud of! and I want to chew through the drywall why doesn't he get it (I know why)

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Allure

Part One:Sunshine

❥MATZ x fem reader

Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa. The most known and feared alphas of the new generation. It took two dozen elder alphas to subdue them and stick them in the world's most secluded prison- hidden away in the mountains. The prison that sweet little omega (Y/n)'s works at.

Knuckle Velvet (Part Two)

Smoke (Part Three)

➯a/n: i've always wanted to write a story i would like to see as a movie or show, and i very much enjoy supernatural and dark romance, so i made this ! it does get very dark so please read the warnings and take care of yourself first and foremost. i am very proud of this, i hope you enjoy 💕

✃ "Because you're... alluring."

✫彡wordcount: 9.3k

♫"Hey, you should leave that young thing alone, ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday." - Flower Face (original by Bill Withers) ♫ Allure Sountrack

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au

ಠ_ಠWARNING/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BIH

chapter specific: literally what have i done, not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forget everything you know about werewolves, so much world building, extremely yandere behavior, talk of attempted child murder, class division of werewolves, panic attacks, vulgar language, mind control, lots of scent stuff, unhealthy relationships, ptsd, flashbacks and nightmares, physical violence, manipulation of others dreams, supporting character death, forced soul bonding, forced marking, reader implied to have mental health issues, murder, gore, violence- all that good stuff. THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC ALL EVENTUAL SMUT WILL BE CONSENSUAL.

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

˚➶ ｡˚ PART ONE ˚➶ ｡˚

You hate weekdays. That much is true for a lot of people. You like to think your reasoning is especially valid.

Every Monday through Friday like clockwork, 6:30AM you walk into the prison. That on its own wasn't so bad. You lived only ten minutes away; the gothic building looked over your village in tandem with the mountains. You could see it when the weather was clear, even from your bedroom on the edge of town. You were no longer afraid of it like when you were a child.

You are, however, afraid of the newest prisoners.

New arrivals didn't usually rock you. This is the only prison in the country fit to hold lycans, after all. They all got transferred here eventually. From beta's who were just stealing to eat, to alphas who used their powers on humans, to those who believed in the old ways and fed on humans.

You had to interact with them all face to face.

You weren't excited for that particular aspect of your job this week.

You made your way through the double doors and greeted the security guard, your friend Hyolyn, as you went through the metal detector. It went off on account of the scent blocker that was embedded in your neck. She chuckled and switched it off so it stopped its incessant beeping.

"Don't laugh at me!" You threw a smile her way as you got your small purse from the plastic bucket she slid towards you. She doesn't bother to check your bag. She knows you well enough to know you wouldn't bring in any "fuck shit", as she would say. "You alpha's don't have to worry about accidentally spewing scent everywhere."

"Thank goodness for that, this place would stink to high heaven." Her unintentional reference to the new arrivals makes the air turn stiff. She could tell you were on edge immediately. "They aren't all that scary," she lays a comforting hand to your shoulder as you fiddle with the long strap on your crossbody bag.

"I heard one of them killed Alpha Greene... you think that's true? That guy was huge, I saw him at The Thing last year, I almost peed myself cause he looked at me-" You stop your own rambling, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a shaking sigh. "I don't want to go in there. Honestly, why can't we install a laundry chute or something, fuck."

"I'll follow you up, I c-"

"No, no, it's visiting day. You need to be down here. You know Chungha? Her daughter is visiting today. Don't want you to miss her." You offer a sad, tight lipped smile, but that doesn't trick her instincts to protect her weaker pack member. She knows you too well to be tricked.

"You just scream and I'll be there. Either of those cocky fucks lift a pinky in your direction and I'll gut them. They don't deserve to see a trial anyway."

A small exhale in the form of a chuckle lightens her protective instincts, she can tell you feel more at ease with her promise to be right there at the slightest hint of trouble.

"See you, Hyolyn."

"Later, babes."

You wave your fingers with a smile as the elevator doors slides shut. As soon as they clunk together, you let it fall and crouch with your head in your hands, taking in deep and slow breaths as you try and force all of the rumors you've heard about the two newest inmates away from your head.

The older alpha of the duo was the first born in this generation. They're always powerful. But he was born to two bloodthirsty rouges. Born in sin and blood lust.

The younger alpha was born just some months after, to an arranged marriage that was purposefully formed to make powerful children. They surely regret that now. Some say the man has the strongest, sharpest claws since the first lycan in Talbot Castle.

When the elevator dings, you're already upright and have that strong facade on that you put on when you're clocked in.

˚➶ ｡˚

You start with the familiar. "Hey, Chungha," you tap on the silver bars of her cell, "hand 'em over." She smiles as she stands, stripping the sheets from her cot and holding them through the bars for you. "Thank you," you draw on with a tug on your lips that matches hers.

"Yunnie in town?"

"Mhm," you hum as you fold the blanket before dropping it in the large basket on wheels, "she came over for stew, I made sure to feed her good and well, don't worry."

You know it was probably problematic, but you couldn't help it. Chungha came here three years ago on a charge for battery, and over those three years you became sort of friends with her.

The battered in her case was her grandfather. When her five year old daughter, Jiyun, started to show signs of being an omega- he left her in the snow to wither away. She managed to survive until her mother came home, and said mother was furious.

She was lucky she didn't charged with attempted manslaughter.

"She said she'll be here first thing."

"Thank you," she had a heavy pull on her voice. You don't have the emotional connection to other wolves like an alpha or beta did. But it was clear to anyone she was being sincere. "You're a good woman."

"Don't mention it, Yunnie is good company. Oh," you start to wheel the basket away when you remember something. You reach into the purse that you had set on the handles. "She made this at art class, asked me to give it to you so it didn't have to wait in processing."

It was a small, cruelly made ceramic bowl in the vague shape of a heart. It was clearly made by an eight year old, but made with love.

"I owe you."

"Just keep working on that parol work." You said lightly and blew a kiss as you moved to the next cell.

    The rest of your work nearly cleared your mind as you went from cell to cell, floor to floor. Omega's were on the second floor. Beta's on the third. Alphas on the fourth. High security on the fifth.

     It's on the fourth level that you begin to feel those nerves that you had just worked away. The scent was becoming stronger. They didn't put them on blockers? Maybe they didn't think it would be worth it. Everyone knew that they were the worst of the worst, they didn't even try to hide it. They would undoubtedly be put to death. Why waste two perfectly good, expensive, blockers?

     The basket of used sheets is nearly full, accumulating into a weight that makes you put your back into it as you push it into the elevator.

    Your index finger reaches out, and before you can stop yourself you've pressed the button to the fifth floor.

       You blank out until the door opens again. Your teeth are eternally grateful for the gum between them so they don't grind themselves into dust. The mint flavor does little to calm your nerves.

     The only thing that makes you come back to your own head is Changbin. He's a big, buff beta with a gun full of silver bullets on his work belt. He won't let them hurt you. His smile washes away a lot of the nerves.

    But the growl that rumbles against the walls makes them return ten, one hundred, one thousand fold. You don't dare say a word. A deer in headlights until Changbin places his hand on the small of your back. "Go on, don't give them the satisfaction of scaring you. They aren't going nowhere no time soon. Take a look."

     He motions you deeper into the hall, florescent lights buzzing above you, matching the jittering feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach. It smells too strong. Too much. You're about to fall to your knees from the weight and you haven't even come face to face with the near feral criminals.

    Changbin opens the doors at the end of the hall.

     They've definitely gone all out to keep them in place. Two large cages placed next to each other in the middle of the enormous room. Made of pure silver and wrapped in wolfsbane. The unpleasant smell of the plant makes your nose twitch. A ring of blood ash surrounds it. Only omegas can pass through blood ash, and now you start to realize why they sent you.

    You want to curse the warden, but the second you open your mouth, a loud cackle sounds out from one of the cages.

     Changbin's hand twitches at the gun attached to his side.

    "Oh wow," the smaller alpha chuckles, eyes closed, head tilted back, as he sniffs the air. "I didn't expect that." More manic giggles slip past his lips.

    You haven't even looked up to see them and you want to cave in on yourself.

    "What are you rambling about, huh?" The guard next to you shouts, making you flinch instinctively.

     "That sweet... sweet, smell," he moans. You can hear him shuffling. "From a peppy little spit fuck omega."

   You gasp abashedly, and now two laughs ring out. You want to wonder how they can smell you. Your insurance provides the best scent blocker in the country. But you're too scared to breathe, let alone think.

      "Shut up," Changbin groans, he can feel you tense next to him, "don't piss me off, Kim."

    "Awe," a new, rumbling voice makes you cower the second it reaches your ears, "this your mate? Hm, no... you wouldn't bring your mate here. You're not an idiot. Then, say... omega." You don't make a move to look when he addresses you, you stay looking at Changbins grip on his gun, silently.

     "Omega, come!" Your feet move for you, and that manic laugh almost makes you wet yourself as you realize that your wolf is making you move toward them without your consent. You stop just outside of the blood ash, where you know you're safe.

     "Changb-"

     "No. I'm the one you're speaking to."

   Changbin seems to be weighing his options, eyeing the men as they eye you.

    "Why are you here? You a shrink?"

    You shake your head.

   "You a lawyer?"

    Again.

   "She works here, dumbass, look at her scrubs," the younger speaks, and you nod subconsciously, to which he giggles, "what can we do for a pretty little thing like you?"

    When you refuse to speak, the guard does it for you. "She's here for your sheets today. Get used to her."

     You hated that this was your job, but it was easy and accessible, and available for omegas. Werewolves are clean freaks. Every day you had a different cleaning task, but you didn't complain. Not until right now- you wanted to rip out the throat of whoever's idea it was to not shoot these criminals on sight.

     "Ah," he hums, and you can feel his eyes raking your body. You can feel both of their eyes. "Not too bad of a sight to get used to. Huh, Hwa?"

     "Mh, that's right... can't wait to get my hands on her."

Your head snaps back to Changbin.

"Awn, she thinks he's gonna help her!" The high pitched giggles bounce around in your head. "Oh, little omega~"

The saccharine coo finally pulls your eyes to the men in the cages.

If you thought you knew what fear was before this moment, you were wrong.

The two strongest criminals in the country, staring you down like a piece of meat. It doesn't matter that they are the ones in cages of silver and wolfsbane. You are the one who feels cornered.

You can immediately feel out their dynamics. The taller one is the older one, quiet and still in his cage as he sits in the center. Shaggy, shining hair framing his face and neck like an elegant piece of lace over a brides face. He has a sleeve of tattoos on one forearm, a thick tattoo on his neck. Eyes glowing a deep, blood red, as he tries to read your entire story with only a look in your direction.

The giggling one is less intimidating, only by a hair. Chemically lightened locks pushed back messily, letting his entrancing features shine in the light from the narrow windows high on the walls. He has tattoos as well, but they seem few and far between. His eyes are human for a moment before they meet yours. Instantaneously, they flick black.

The knot drops from your throat and you let out a small, pathetic, squeak.

Changbin breaks your staring contest with the alpha, shouting orders at them. "Take the sheets off your cot and set them outside of your cage. Do not attempt to touch her, I will shoot you."

    Neither criminal makes a move to follow his orders, both simply staring at you.

A low growl is emitted when the older alpha finally snaps up, tearing the sheet off the sorry excuse for a bed in one fell swoop. The younger follows his lead, shoving their sheets through the bars that are wrapped in the poisonous flower.

You look to the guard, and he nods, "go." With his finger twitching at the gun ready to pull it, you jump over the dark red ashes and into the wolves den, snatching the sheets up as quick as possible and dashing away, out the door before they even get a chance to lock in your scent up close.

The giggles follow you all the way to the elevator and ring in your head even as the thick metal thunks shut.

As you take a deep breath, you notice the sheets are gripped to your chest, your claws drawn subconsciously in your panic and ripping them up. "Shit!" You let out a curse and shove them into the bottom of the basket so you don't have to smell it as closely on the long ride to the basement.

˚➶ ｡˚

The lingering wafts of your fresh scent are long gone, nothing to distract the alpha's from their caged boredom and bubbling rage over being caught. "I'll have that runts heart in my hands by the end of the month." Hongjoong groaned, to no one in particular- he knew Seonghwa was too deep in thought from their recent revelations. "Fucking back stabbers. They're more pathetic than a bitch in heat trying to get off with a dildo."

The thought hit his mind as soon as the words left his lips.

The thought of you, legs spread with your hand dipped low, trying to satisfy your primal urges and-

"Stop that." Seonghwa growls, kicking the bars of their shared 'wall'.

"Settle down!"

"Oh, like you weren't thinking it!" Hongjoong rolls his eyes, a scowl on his face as he crosses his arms. "Your ruts coming and you don't want your-"

"I said stop," he nearly roars, grabbing Hongjoong's state issued orange top and ripping it with his claws as he pulls him forward.

"I know you want her because I want her too." He whispers, smirking at the telltale signs of desire and bloodlust in his mates eyes. Red swirling around the brown of his human eyes. "Imagine how good she'll smell when we take out that stupid blocker. We'll be drowning in her scent." He moans, grabbing his wrist, "I get the honors, my claws are sharper, anyways," he draws them quickly, digging them into his skin as if to prove a point.

"I can use my teeth, mark h-"

"Oh, will you two stop? Love of God..." The guard in the large room slaps his book down on the rickety table. "What is there possibly for you to be fighting about? You're about to be executed, you know that right? No jury in the world will let you walk, especially the human half."

Their frustrations turn to the man, letting each other go. "Ah, you think so?" The older croons, dragging his index over his bleeding wrist and bringing it to his lips, sucking it clean before he continues. "We won't be around these parts long enough to meet the jury."

"What do you mean by that?"

Hongjoong covers his mouth when a laugh slips past. Seonghwa simply smirks as he sits cross legged, eyes locked with the guard as he licks his wound.

"What do you mean by that?!"

The blonde man breaks out in a fit of laughter. The brunette simply flashes his bloody canines in a twisted smile.

˚➶ ｡˚

You spent the whole time doing your daily tasks trying to hype yourself up to go back up to the fifth floor.

You usually went top down, four to one. Nobody has ever been on five before.

You go bottom up today, starting at Chungha with a full basket of freshly washed sheets. She prattles on about her visit with Jiyun, and how she's so thankful for you.

You choose that as your focus point for the rest of the work day, even as you press the button to the fifth floor.

You think back to the first time you spoke to Chungha, she was a crying mess, unable to sense that you were an omega like herself. She cried and cried and cried as you held her hand through the bars of temporary holding. She cried for her daughter, for cursing her with the shame of being the weakest link of any pack. When she looked up and saw your eyes, barely glowing, she cried more.

She apologized profusely, but you reassured her that her words were true, and you hadn't been offended. You told her that, in fact, she was the first to ever share your feelings of what being an omega really meant. It meant loneliness beside anyone but other omegas. Fake relationships born with people who only stuck around because of their primal instincts to either prey on you or protect you. It meant facing the fact that you were outcasts from both of the world's dominant societies. Outcasted from humans for being a werewolf. Outcasted from werewolves for being weak. So weak, in fact, that blood ash didn't even think of you as a wolf.

That night, you drove four hours to the next village over and looked after her daughter until her aunt had room. You remember the first thing the girl said to you. She didn't speak that whole day, surely in shock from the past few days events. But when you tucked her into the motel bed, she spoke as soft as a ghost, "sing me a song?"

You hum it to yourself now, the soft sound reverberating through the metal around you until the door opened.

You wheel the basket with you this time, like it will protect you as you approach the open doors, already feeling the unwavering gaze of the criminals.

"Hey, dolly~" Hongjoong, you had learned when you took a peek into their files, purred your way.

You didn't give him the satisfaction of responding verbally, but he saw the goosebumps on your arm as you reached into the basket, stretching on your tip toes to get the last two sheets.

"You never shut up do you, Kim?" The guard sighed with an exhausted tone, making you smile as you slowly made your way to the ring of red dust.

The throaty rumble from Seonghwa, the older, taller wolf, makes that smile drop to the depths of Hell.

The new guard seems to notice your anxiety, eyeing you up- in a much less predatory manner than the caged men. "Go on, 'mega. I'm watching them."

A bang on the metal bars makes you glue your foot right back where it came from. It's the blonde one, "you shut the fuck up!"

"No, you shut the fuck up! I'm the one with the silver bullets!"

All of the yelling is making you tremble, Hongjoong and the guard going back and forth. "She isn't your omega!"

"She ain't yours!"

Seonghwa watches with a sinister smile as you back away from the ash and the guard, calling to you quietly, "hey."

The soft tone of his voice makes you raise your eyes, but not your head. His eyes don't hold that threatening and dominating red from before. They're a soft brown color that reminds you of a beautiful dark oak in the morning sunshine. "What's your name?"

"(Y/n)..." your tongue moves without your consent, fresh blankets held to your work scrubs.

You desperately want the guard to notice this trance you're in, and grab you out of it. You want to do it yourself, but you can't do anything but admire the beauty of the criminal who has you hypnotized.

"You're a pretty omega, y'know? What color is your wolf?"

"Black..." It's a slur off your lips, barely registering in his sharply tuned ears over the yelling that continues to fill the room.

"Mine too. What's her name? His is Akma."

"Solis."

"Very pretty. Is she fast?"

"Yes."

"Does she want an alpha? A mate?"

"Yes."

The guard finally notices your raised gaze, affixed to the infamous, unlawful, man. He puts his gun back in the holster quickly before gripping your shoulder and forcing you to turn around. "You idiot, didn't anyone ever tell you not to look a first born in the eyes?"

"Sorry. I'm sorry." No one had ever told you that, actually.

Both of the criminals share a smirk as the man from your pack attempts to calm you. It wasn't hard for them to figure out you were an alpha-less village. They could smell every single wolf in five miles, and not a single stench from a wolf even nearly as strong as them.

There was, however, you. A honeyed smell that filled their guts with the primal need to rip out the eyes of anyone who dared look at you.

The guard couldn't be more wrong. You are their omega. You just don't know yet.

"Go and give these fucks their sheets, then get the hell out of here." The man shoved you, making you jump clumsily over the ash so you didn't break the seal.

He yells at them to back up, and they do so without a fight.

You shove them both in at the same time before running back out quickly, grabbing the empty basket and dragging it with you, the sound of the wheels scraping with the force of your panic echoing in the near empty room.

"You guys get off on scaring defenseless girls?" The guard scoffs, not expecting an answer as he drags the chair out of the room and slams the doors behind him.

Seonghwa lets his facade fall the second the door shuts, falling to his knees and grappling at the sheet like he's a starving man with the last piece of food on Earth. Hongjoong watches for a moment in confusion until the scent catches up with his weaker nose. Then he's quickly falling in the same position.

"It worked, the guard was so easy to distract," Hongjoong chuckles, face buried into the sheet that smells vaguely like you from your time spent holding it. "What did you learn?"

"(Y/n), a black wolf named Solis," he pauses, eyes rolled back as he takes a deep breath. They're red when they re-open. "No mate. It's really her."

"You think we should have told her?" Hongjoong inquires, looking through the bars.

He's never seen Seonghwa on his knees for anyone but him or the moon.

"No," he shakes his head, turning to lock eyes with him. "She'll figure it out when I mark her."

"When I mark her."

He rolls his eyes at his defiant nature, knowing full well he won't disobey his orders no matter how badly he wants to do something.

In a dog eat dog world, the strongest was the most powerful. Unlike their human neighbors, werewolves don't decide political or social standing by money or family name. They decide based on who comes out on top in a battle of the body and of the wits.

It had been determined years ago, when they were just young rebellious pups, that Seonghwa was the alpha. A fight in the woods under the moon had set it in stone between the two.

He could have ripped Hongjoongs throat out right then and there, but now, 13 years later in the present; they're bonded for life.

Sometimes he still sees Hongjoong as that 12 year old boy under his teeth, still snapping and growling even as he bled out with tears in his dark eyes, fighting to survive purely out of spite.

"You can mark her first," Seonghwa speaks quickly, turning his back as he puts the sweet smelling sheet on his cot.

He smiles at the man, a quiet thanks spoken through their bonded souls.

˚➶ ｡˚

Tuesday, they don't see you until much later in the day, but they bask in the sight of you opening the door with a broom and tray in hand, smiling at Changbin. You'll be here for a while, it's a big room.

"Hey, Binnie," you whisper to the beta, and Seonghwa has to bite his tongue.

Binnie? Ugh.

Hongjoong isn't so polite, "hey, Dolly! We don't get a hello?" You barely peek at him, eyes flicked from him right back to the floor in a millisecond. He knows you noticed his pout when he hears the smallest 'hello' tremble by your lips.

You start in the corner, headphones attached to your walkman with your favorite song on repeat to try and soothe yourself. Bill Withers calming voice blocks out every word of the teasing alphas, but you can still feel them mocking you and picking at you.

You don't dare sweep anywhere near the blood ash on the floor. One less precaution in place was one more thing to worry about.

"Bye, Binnie."

He does growl that time, eyes narrowed on your back until the door shuts.

˚➶ ｡˚

Wednesday, you have a frown on your face. "Three days in a row?" The guard Hongjoong got in a yelling match with, Merle, greets you as you come into the cavernous room, "bad schedule huh?"

"No kidding," you sigh, feet slightly hesitant to pass the dust border, "I'm here to fix your shirt. It's state property." You don't look at them, but they know who you're referring to.

They act like they don't, though. Just to hear more of your voice. To make you wriggle under their attention. "Sorry? What do you mean?"

You look and point to Hongjoong, his collar ripped from Seonghwas grasp. "State property."

"Ah, of course." He grins like a jackal, pulling it over his head and sticking his hand out of the bars just in the slightest. "On one condition."

You pout, eyes on the shirt which is just far enough away that you'd have to step closer. And it's the cutest fucking thing they've ever seen.

You look back up at him, silently asking. "Sit and talk with us. The guards here are no fun!" His laugh makes you jump back further, he sounds like a mad pirate.

You look over to Merle, who just shrugs, "just get it over with so these guys will shut up. They're only talkative around you, they need an audience for their antics."

"We won't bite," Seonghwa chuckles with his teeth exposed, making you shiver.

"Fine, give it here." You take a single step forward, palm out infront of the blonde.

When you grab it and go to race away like always, his claws wrapping all the way around your wrist stops you, sharp edges threatening to slice your skin down to the bone. You scream your head off, silenced when Seonghwa coos softly, "sit with us, and talk."

"Let me go..." you plead, eyes frantically flicking to Merle, whose gun is drawn to Hongjoongs head from the border of the ash, waiting for him to take one more wrong move so he can rid the world of one of its greatest criminals.

"Sit, omega." You do so, slowly lowering to the floor with your wrist and life still in Hongjoongs hand. "You have your sewing kit with you, I can hear the buttons hitting the needle. So sit, stay, and talk while you fix it."

Once again, they're the ones caged in. But you're the one who's stuck.

     One look to Merle tells you he probably wouldn't help you even if he could get to you. He lowers his gun as your tailbone hits the concrete floor.

     Your thin work scrubs do little to fight the cold of the old flooring, one reason of many that you shake as you reach into your purse and get the small tin box.

     Hongjoong releases your wrist and sits mirrored to you, hands perched on the bars in the gaps of the purple vine flower wrapped on them. Seonghwa comes to the corner of his side of the split cage and breathes in deeply through his nose, eyes locked in on your every movement. "So you're essentially the errand lady? Maid?"

      "Yes..." You murmur under your breath as your fingers work to thread the needle, slowly backing away until you're out of reach, but still stuck in the blood ash with no one to rescue should the men infront of you decide to rip their cages open. You only stop backing away when you hear a warning growl.

     You don't care to see which it came from, you just want to do this as quickly as possible and get far, far, away. They could have chose anyone to focus their annoying efforts on. Changbin, Merle, the warden. But no, just your luck.

      "You live in the village, right? Were you born here?" Seonghwa continues to do the talking as you carefully fix the shirt.

      "Yes. And no."

     A small hum from the one in front of you is a sign they want you to continue. "I was born to an overpopulated pack. They kicked me out when I turned eighteen. Our old alpha took me in." The hitch in your voice is a clear sign that it's a sore topic. And Hongjoong continues to poke the wound.

      "How did they find you?"

       "Woods."

       "Woods?"

     You can't help the small growl of frustration, lip curling as you look up. "Woods."

     The reaction is one you wouldn't have expected from a normal person, but then- they aren't normal.

     They laugh, cooing over your gesture of anger. Compared to them, you seem like a teacup puppy. "My, my," the brunette chuckles breathily, "is that Solis coming to play?"

     "At least she can," you snap, sent to the back of your own head as your wolf tries to defend you, "she isn't a caged mutt."

    Hongjoong breaks out into a manic fit of laughter, while his paramour is the opposite: his eyes flick red before your own, sharp teeth on display in a show of dominance over your smaller ones that are subconsciously bared at him. "Watch it, omega." He spits his words with venom, "I won't be so nice when I get out of here."

     You rip the extra thread with your claw, kicking the shirt across the floor so it sits at the bottom bar of Hongjoongs cage. His chest still wracks with laughter, watching as you sit up in a low squat so you're still level with the alpha.

      It's clear that you aren't currently you. Your wolf has control of your mouth and body, crouched in a position akin to that of a dog ready to pounce as you hiss your words, "I'm going to laugh in your face as you hang."

     "Aw, is that how dear old alpha died?"

     "Cut it out!" Merle screams disinterested, eyes glued to his flimsy magazine.

      "I heard he got gutted~" Hongjoong giggles, watching the color flicking in your eyes.

     "I'll gut you!" Your threat only makes him laugh more.

      "(Y/n)!" The voice of Hylyon breaks your wolf away from you immediately, falling to your bottom and crawling to the sound unwittingly. "You fucking idiot, Merle!" 

     She reaches over the blood ash and pulls you over the ring, letting you collapse into her as she drags you away, still throwing profanities at the incompetent guard. Hongjoong is laughing loudly. Seonghwa yelling at you to come back. The elevator cuts of his roar, the last thing you see through your blurry vision is his fist making a dent in the silver cage.

You fall onto the floor of the metal box. Thoughts flood your head too quickly for you to swim though them, making you drown and try to escape by releasing the pain with tears. You don't even notice when your friend turns her key in the elevator to make it stop in its tracks, you only see her when she sits right infront of you.

"Babes, calm down, I've got you," she reaches out slowly and places a hand on your leg, slowly rubbing her thumb over your knee.

"I can't go back up there... they're too strong, they make me feel like I'm suffocating," you splutter through gasps, "I'm too weak!"

"Hey, hey, you're spiraling!" She opens her arms and pulls you into her, letting you sob into her uniform. "In and out, girl," she holds the back of your neck securely, almost instantaneously making you calm. "I got you... I got you..."

You sit there for a good while, crying into her shoulder as you sort through your wracked brains.

Your alpha was gutted. Right in front of you. Because of you.

Unbeknownst to you, their tuned ears are still listening in, the elevator stuck within their ear shot as you begin mumbling your favorite song to yourself through tears.

˚➶ ｡˚

The sound of claws slicing through the skin on your back rings in your ears. Though, you can't feel it. Your eyes are locked in on your own claws, dug into the hardwood floor of your humble home to keep yourself from being dragged.

     You've been here a million times before.

     Blood pooling off of your body and onto the frigid surface below you. Teeth sharp and bared to the moon though the open window, begging that she might let you survive. Eyes aglow with your instincts as your wolf tries with every fiber of her being to turn, but she knows it's no use.

     The distorted voice above you drips with mocking venom, a chuckle as its owner realizes you can't even fight back like other wolves might: by letting your wolf fully transform.

     The wind blows through your curtains, washes your body in the artic breeze. The snowflakes on your windowsill are so delicate, all of their features fade into a blurry mush as they make contact. They melt, dripping down your wall.

     This time it's different.

      You're turned over, gaping wounds slammed into the floor as always, but when you look up to your aggressor it's different.

      His eyes aren't the yellow of a rouge, but the red of an alpha. His hair isn't that unruly blonde curl that you pulled at frantically, that you can still feel on your finger tips when your hands are unoccupied. It's long, shining, soft looking dark locks.

       You fall through the floor into another time, another place.

     Face first into the snow: your hands, shaking with adrenaline, do little to catch you.

       You don't remember this.

       This isn't right.

       This isn't your nightmare.

       You find yourself in a clearing in a forrest, the densely packed trees creating a bubble of nature around you. "(Y/n)?"

      You whip around, coming face to face with an unfamiliar man. Almost face to face. If he weren't floating a few feet in the air.

     His legs are crossed under him, hands facing palms up on his knees.

      "Don't worry. You're only dreaming." He speaks calmly as he floats around you in a circle, like a shark examining its potential prey.

     You follow him with your feral gaze, that familiar feeling of an adrenaline crash quickly approaching.

You know you're only dreaming. You've had that last dream more times than you can count in the past three years. It always plays the same. But not this time. You're only slightly thankful that you don't have to witness your alphas death again, but the gratefulness is overshadowed by confusion.

"Are you an angel?" You whisper, watching the man's soft and rounded features as he comes to a stop in the air in front of you and gracefully lowers to his feet.

"I can be, if that's what you want me to be. I'm only here to watch your dreams, fight off the nightmares."

"Why?" You feel distant from your body, watching powerlessly as your hand takes his, letting him lead you out of the clearing and into the darkness of the woods.

It disappears around you, warping into a spring day on a familiar path.

"A favor for a friend."

With the snow gone, you're in your spot, your old towel on the dewy grass with a book laid atop of it and the soil beneath your feet as you approach.

"Enjoy."

The hand vanishes from your own, leaving you alone on the side of the path. You look for him. But he's just an eidolon, watching you from the sky where you can't see him.

You warily take a seat and pick up the book.

˚➶ ｡˚

They don't see you again through the week. And when the next Monday comes by, their sheets are removed while they're in the showers.

Hongjoong sighs from his place on the floor, for the tenth time in the past half hour.

"Hong-"

"I miss our omega!" He whines, cutting him off.

Seonghwa stands from his cot, slowly lowering to the floor next to their shared bars. He lays flat on his back, mirroring Hongjoong as he tilts his head to look at him. "Soon." Is the only word he utters.

He reaches through the silver bars, ignoring the sting as the fresh wolfsbane brushes his wrist, and takes his hand.

The both of them look up at the ceiling through the bars of their enclosure.

Your scent is long gone from the room, and their noses can barely pick up on it through the rest of the village and prison.

"I want out of here," Hongjoong whispers, so lowly that the guard can't hear him from outside of the door, "when are they coming? Your bond with them is stronger, I can barely feel them..."

"Soon." He repeats, "very soon, Joong."

˚➶ ｡˚

Tuesday you manage to talk your coworker into sweeping the top floor, and you rejoice in the freedom of not being under the alpha's gazes. You've worked out a good schedule to completely avoid seeing them, and it's made your job feel like it's back to normal.

You can still smell their power wafting through the AC, but it's bearable. You distract yourself in your free time by making excuses to be on the second floor with Chungha and the other omegas.

Today, that excuse is 'omegas need physical outlets too', and the warden let you bring up buckets and brushes so you could all scrub the base boards.

"Oh, I've got one!" The omega to your left speaks, lifting his brush in the air in a eureka moment, "Texas Chainsaw Massacre or... Halloween?"

Chungha scoffs with a smile as she scrubs away to your right, "are we including sequels? There's like a billion!"

"No, stand alone original," Beomhan goes back to scrubbing as he continues, "both of them are classics but which one is a better classic?"

"Halloween is the classic slasher, Texas Chainsaw is like psychological horror," you chime in as you dip your brush into the bucket, sitting on your calves as you take a breather. "I think it's not fair to compare them... but Texas Chainsaw, definitely."

They laugh along with you, and Chungha shakes her head, "Halloween has more rewatchablity. You don't want to see Sally go through that more than once, but Laurie Strode fights harder and it's more like, yeah I'll watch her kick ass again."

"Cinematography in both is so beaut-"

The lights above you flicker before they shut down completely. People start muttering their concerns, quite a few of them looking your way. "Don't worry!" You hop up and get your keys from your pocket as you make your way to the locked stairwell. "I'll go and see what's going on, keep scrub-"

A loud siren echoes in the brick walls, shocking you all to cover your ears.

Everyone looks to you for answers, and you don't have any as your brain starts throwing theory after theory at you.

"It's okay, go back to your cells! Shut them behind you!"

They listened, however grumpy about it. The cell doors locked automatically when they were closed.

"Hey, what's going on?" Chungha asked over the clanging of the cell doors. The two of you, along with Beomhan, were the only ones left after a moment.

"Go back to your cell, Beomhan, hurry."

"No, what's happening?"

     The sirens cut off and leave you in a pregnant pause for a moment as you simply try to calm yourself.

A deafening scream ricochets through the air vent next to you, scaring you into their arms as you all stare at it.

Usually, the air flow covered the echoes throughout the floors. But with no power, you could hear everything- albeit muffled.

Yells and shouts. Gunshots. Growls. Unidentifiable chaos. And above all, your ears tuned in on a rumbling, calm voice through it all.

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... It's not warm when she's away..."

Your eyes widen as theres a bang at the stairwell door. "Go, go!" You grab each of their wrists, dragging them into Chungha's cell. You slam it behind you and let down the sheet she has over it, backing away and staring at it as you hear the door hit the wall behind it with the force it's slammed open.

"(Y/n), what the hells happening?!"

     You slap your hand over his mouth and bring a finger to your lips. The other omegas on the floor are all making a ruckus, and you can only hope that it will confuse that unfortunately familiar voice so he can't find you.

˚➶ ｡˚

The beta in the large room ignores Hongjoong as he continuously asks after 'the pretty omega'.

He just sweeps and sweeps, finally understanding why you hate coming up here. He has his back turned to the cage, and consequently, to the windows.

High on the tall walls, the narrow glass is opened from the outside. Seonghwa smirks, and gestures his head to it. Hongjoongs gaze follows, and he has to slap a hand over his mouth so he doesn't laugh.

A skinny figure is sliding its way in through the window sideways.

He drops to the floor as silent as a mouse, landing on his knees and grinning wildly up at his alphas.

Hongjoong throws his head back in preemptive relief, while Seonghwa is watching with a similarly wide smile as the man walks straight through the blood ash, breaking the circle with the tip of his shoe.

The worker still has his back turned as the lock on Seonghwas cage is picked with a long claw. He doesn't even know what's happening as the next thing he knows, he's thrown across the floor.

      Blood ash knocks up around him, coughs wracking his body as he looks up to his assailant.

      Park Seonghwa, newly freed from his cage, looks down at the worker with his eyes glowing red.

     "Now usually..." He begins, crouching to be face to face with him, "I'd go through this whole place just for the fuck of it and cause some beautiful chaos. But I'm looking for someone."

     "(Y/n)?" He stutters out, backing away only to knock into Hongjoongs legs. Stuck between the two criminals, he chooses his own head over yours. "The second floor! Sh-she's on the second floor!"

     "Let's go get our omega, Joong."

      Nonchalantly, Hongjoong draws his claws and slices the neck of the worker. He hops over the gurgling body and follows his mate with an ecstatic giggle.

      He wraps his arm around the skinny man's shoulder, "Wooyoung! Our savior~" He ruffles his hair and laughs as he groans.

     "You guys know I've got your back. Seonghwa told me about your new omega, you seem excited," he mimics the alphas smile as the eldest of the trio opens the doors.

     The guard on duty, who happens to be Merle, looks back with wide eyes.

"Yes, oh yes!" His eyes roll to the back of his head, touching the stitches you made on his shirt. "Oh, you'll love her, she's a feisty omega just like you."

He makes a run for the fire alarm at the end of the hall, but Seonghwa is faster. The beta is tackled to the floor.

"I'm glad you both will have a buffer, tired of you always at each other's throats during ruts," Wooyoung laughs, looking down at the guard as they pass.

Seonghwa had simply torn out his throat with his bare hand and made his way to the elevator, holding it open with an impatient glare.

The door closes behind them and the only sound is Seonghwa's heavy breathing.

"You're real eager, huh?" The omega breaks the silence, "San should be coming in any second to block the main door. No one will get past him. The rest are in the village, just as we planned."

"Good, she'll need somewhere to rest before we take off....Fucking idiots, thinking they can cage us." He groans, eyes flicking to the number above the doors as it dings.

       3? "Fuck."

     The door opens and the woman on the other side takes a moment, nearly walking in before she notices the crimson liquid dripping from Segonhwa's hand.

      She makes it halfway through the hall before Hongjoong pounces on her, fighting her effortlessly as if she's a rag doll. The guards run to try and save her, but it's too late for the unfortunate woman, and they just signed their own death certificate as well.

       Seonghwa and Wooyoung make quick work of them, but their plan is already foiled as the lights flicker to a halt and leave them bathed in dim light of the setting sun in the few windows.

      The alphas fall to their knees as their sensitive ears are bombarded with a loud, incessant siren.

      "Wooyoung!" Hongjoong screams over it, "go turn that shit off!"

      He nods, taking the keys off a mauled guard and dashing to the stair well, leaving it unlocked behind him.

     Hongjoong crawls to Seonghwa, collapsing into his chest with his teeth clenched and palms over his ears. His ears were always more sensitive.

     His partner places his hands over his, thumb running over his own. He looks down with his eyes glowing red, meeting pure black.

He leans and kisses him deeply, all teeth and bloodlust, trying to merge their souls until the sirens cuts off.

Their foreheads rest together, ignoring the chaos of the beta's around them yelling to be released.

"Are you ready?" Seonghwa whispers, gathering another set of keys from the fallen workers. He throws it to one of the locked in prisoners, a smirk on his face. So much for not creating chaos.

"Let's go," Hongjoong holds the door to the staircase open and lets him go first with a dramatic bow.

It takes one scream to start the havoc. The entire prison is filled with the sickly sweet sounds of caged animals with a taste of freedom. Gunfire and howls bring a smile to Seonghwa's lips as he sings out,

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... it's not warm when she's away..."

He hums the song with a wide grin as Hongjoong kicks the door. It takes only one more kick before it slams open and bangs against the cement wall.

The omegas in their cells are all yelling at them, at one another, in general.

Hongjoong kicks one of the many buckets on the floor over and groans, "here I was thinking she'd make it easy. I guess we'll have to go cell to cell!" A small spike of a heartbeat in his ears makes him smirk, following the sound that he memorized the first time he'd heard it.

Seonghwa follows him, immediately zeroing in on the same cell. He comes to stand infront of it, his breath making the blanket behind the bars sway slightly.

You see both pairs of orange slip on shoes and you feel your heart stop in your chest.

You cower further into the corner with Beomhan as Chungha stands in front of you. The sheet is grabbed from the outside and ripped away, making you all shriek.

"Were you playing hide and seek?" Hongjoong giggles, throwing the blanket to the side with his eyes never leaving you, a scowl growing on his features as he notices the way you're curling into another wolf. "You should know better than to hide from your alphas. Come on out."

You shake your head, gaze lowered as you hold onto the back of Chungha's uniform.

"(Y/n)," the saturnine man speaks, "come here."

"No, leave us alone! Leave me alone," your voice cracks despite how strong you want to appear.

"If I have to drag you out of here I will be very angry. Just come on, do us all a solid."

"No-"

"Open the fucking door!"

"No!"

The cells were built to hold lycans, which means lycans shouldn't be able to get in... right?

"Fucking-" Seonghwa hits the bars, leaving a dent and making the three of you jump.

Hongjoong leans on his tiptoes and whispers into his ear, and whatever he says makes his eyes begin glowing a murderous red.

He slowly wraps his clawed fingers around the bars, and the way Hongjoong backs up makes your stomach churn in anxiety of what's about to come.

And it was warranted anxiety.

With a loud growl and a single tug, he rips the silver bars from their cemented place in the wall, causing a large crack to form.

"Holy shit!" Beomhan screams, arms wrapping around you tightly.

Chungha is ripped from the small room and tossed all the way across the room, back colliding with the wall and leaving her unconscious.

You yelp as Beomhan meets a similar fate, torn from your grasp and out into the rec room like he's a mere bag of trash. You see Hongjoong approaching him with his long black claws out and proud, but your vision is blocked by the large alpha infront of you.

     Your hips back into Chungha's small desk, and your hands clamber around, landing on something small and solid.

     You swing it at his head and he ducks, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the small cell. You manage to swing again, making contact with his head. The small ceramic bowl shatters into pieces and leaves him only temporarily stunned, glaring down at you.

      "Fucking stop," he growls quietly, shoving you to the floor.

       He lets you shuffle away, only because Hongjoong is right behind you.

     The blonde chuckles, pulling you back up by your collar and crashing you face first into one of the round steel tables bolted into the floor. "Ow!" You yell out as your head makes contact, fighting against him with all your might, but it's fruitless.

     He kicks your feet apart and stands between them, leaning his chest over your back. You can feel his nose against your neck, over the healed skin above your scent blocker. You snap your eyes shut and do the only thing you can thing of.

     You can't fight. Begging to these men would be useless. You can't disappear into the floor like you wish you could.

     "Please, Selene," you pray to the moon, tears slipping past your shut eyes as you feel the claws of the mad man on your neck.

       You cry out as the other worldly sharp nails slice into your neck, slowly and almost surgically. His other hand is cupped on the back of your head, keeping your head pushed into the cold metal. "Shhhh," he gushes above you, "it's okay."

      Seonghwa sits at one of the bolted stools and rests his head to mimic yours, cheek on the table. "We'd've been more gentle if you listened, omega."

       Between the tips of his claws, Hongjoong holds your small alloy scent blocker. Almost instantaneously, your natural scent floods their senses.

     Their deep rumbles of pleasure make you snap your eyes back shut, missing the way Hongjoong stomps on the device.

     "Fuck," the wolf behind you curses, body pressed close to yours like he wants to fuse together, he places his hands in yours and tells you, "you might want to squeeze."

    "Wh- ah!" Your scream echoes over all of the other chaos as his teeth sink into your left shoulder, and you do just that. Your clawed hands squeeze around his, sharp nails knocking together as you hold on like his hands are the only thing keeping you from slipping to the underworld.

       It feels like a million pins and needles washing over you, leaving you paralyzed in place as he purrs into the wound, making your bones vibrate.

     A warm, comforting hand on your cheek makes you force your eyes open. Seonghwa smiles sweetly, like he isn't witnessing one of the biggest crimes in the lycan community.

      Forcing someone to be your mate for the rest of your mortal lives.

     "Breathe, omega," his words make you realize you're holding your breath, and you let it out as a sob. "That's it," he hums, rubbing his hand down your head with all the gentleness he's capable of.

        Hongjoong pulls away with a moan, resting his head between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath.

     Your wolf is already calling for her mate, howling in the back of your mind as you cry.

       "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." Seonghwas words have little time to register in your adrenaline filled head as he turns your head the other way and climbs up on the table.

     It hits you when he moves your ruffled shirt away from your right shoulder. "No! No!" You find yourself with two million pins and needles in your body now, squeezing Hongjoongs hands all over again as Seonghwa sinks his teeth into you at an excruciatingly slow pace.

They're bigger, or maybe they only feel that way because your body is on fire. You sob freely, feet stomping pathetically to cope with the pain.

What little comfort you find in Hongjoong squeezing your hands back is washed away by the simple fact that it's him. That blood from his claws drips onto your skin.

It feels like a century later that the older alpha finally pulls away, a bellow of pleasure as he runs his thumb over the wound: making you jump.

"Your turn, omega."

The weight of their bodies is gone, but you can't bring yourself to move. Out of fear, maybe. Pain, perhaps.

"You know what happens to wolves who don't finish the bond." Hongjoong purrs teasingly, knowing full well that you will have to mark them back least you want to suffer at the hands of the moon herself.

A life with them was better than being turned inside out and left to the elements. Just barely.

You lift yourself on shaking arms and nearly fall as you turn. You would have if not for Hongjoong catching you. He lifts you back to the table much gentler, letting your legs dangle as you sit on the table top.

"Why... why me?"

"... Have you heard of Harry Talbot?"

"Harry Talbots a myth... what's he got to do with your fuck shit?"

"Harry Talbot was the first wolf that could smell his mate. He could tell just by her smell, they were meant to be." Hongjoong slots his way between your legs, smiling down at you with his bloody teeth, "her smell called to him. It wasn't just good. It wasn't a normal scent. It was...alluring."

You were growing dizzy, head spinning.

"Strong alphas can sniff out their true mate. And, baby, we're the strongest that there is."

You have to force yourself to swallow. Have to remember to breathe.

"Why? Because you're... alluring."

That's the last thing you can register before your world turns dark.

˚➶ ｡˚ PART ONE END ˚➶ ｡˚

[navybrat817]

Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[hughjackmansbicep]

Idk if you’re taking requests now but can you please write a Logan x reader who likes flowers🥺 like someone gives her a flower and she gets very happy so he decides to buy bouquets for her to see her happy

Contains: Logan Howlett X F!Reader

Warnings: Uhhhh none??? Cuss words???

Word Count: 1.08k

a/n: omg my first request!!!! been waiting for one :DD i hopes you like hope i delivered well...... im so bad at making endings i never know how the fluff to do it rahhhhh !!!!! enjoy enjoy feel free to request friends i find this sm funnnnnnn

Unbeknownst to you, Logan took note of everything about you. He’d watch the way your eyes sparkled when you'd walk through the garden; he’d admire the way you carefully hand-selected flowers for whatever bouquet you were making that week; and even though he always seemed annoyed when you'd make whoever was driving pull over so you could pick the wildflowers on the side of the road, he secretly adored it. So when one of the students made a beeline for you, roses picked from the garden in hand, he took extra notes seeing something so simple make your entire week.

“It was just the sweetest thing!” You boasted about the flowers for the thousandth time; Logan didn't mind though; he could listen to you talk all day long. You could've been reciting War and Peace to him, and he'd still be utterly infatuated with every word that fell from your tongue. The two of you were sitting on a bench in the garden as you rambled on about those darn roses when Rouge had appeared holding a vase with the most gorgeous floral arrangement. “These were just dropped off for you.” She spoke, holding the bouquet out. “Oh my! Did they say from who?” You were grinning from ear to ear as you admired the flowers. “Nope! Card didn't say either.” You fished for the folded-over cardstock; opening it just left you with even more questions. ‘In a room full of art, I’d still stare at you’ was all that was printed on the card—no name, no initial, not even a hint of who might this be from. You looked up, giving Rouge a warm smile and thanking her before heading inside to set up your new arrangement.

You'd just finished cutting and placing your new flowers in a vase when Logan waltzed into the kitchen, “Who do you think they're from?” He asked, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand, “Not sure, but whoever they're from, they certainly know my favorite flowers.” You smiled down at the flowers, thankfully paying no real mind to Logan. His face was completely flush as he tried to mask the smile making its way to his lips with a quick swig from his beer. He just silently nodded in your direction before yelling a quick goodnight to you as he swiftly made his exit out the kitchen.

This continued on for weeks, your secret admirer sending flowers to you, sweet notes attached to all of them. You had saved every single one, keeping them locked in a small wooden box under your bed, and every week when new flowers would arrive, you'd cut a few off from your last bouquet, pressing them in books to also savor. You had interrogated every single person in the mansion about these mystery flowers, but to no avail, no one would confess. You didn't mind though; while it was frustrating to not thank your secret admirer, you appreciated the gifts nonetheless.

“I just wish whoever was doing this would say something.” You exasperated. You were sprawled across your bed staring at the ceiling as Logan sat at your desk picking at his fingernails, something he only did when he was nervous. “Maybe they're scared?” Logan offered, and you flipped to your stomach, looking over to him, "Well, they need to nut up and just tell me, I'm starting to run out of books to press these damn things!” His eyes go wide hearing you've been saving the flowers sent to you, your brows furrowing in confusion at his reaction. “What?” You ask, cocking your head to the side, “N-nothing; I think Charles is calling for me.” He practically runs out of your room after that. 

You 100% knew Logan was the one sending you all these floral bouquets; he made it so painfully obvious, but you weren't going to say anything. Honestly, you wanted to see how long he could keep his little act up. How many more arrangements were you going to get before he finally fessed up? Your answer came 2 months later, when you received a bouquet. The note attached was just coordinates and a timestamp of 7:26 p.m. Punching them into your phone, it was a botanical garden just a couple miles away, a smile creeping onto your face as your cheeks flushed red.

You stood at the beginning of the path in the garden at 7:26 on the dot, your heart a jackhammer in your chest, your breaths shakey and laced with anxiety. It had to be Logan, but what if it wasn’t... Your thoughts were racing in your head, making you feel dizzy, your stomach tying into knots as your heels clicked down the path. Each step closer, you could feel your body tense up like cement was coursing through your veins, hardening with each passing second. 

Rounding a corner to the center of the garden, you spotted an oh so familiar face holding a bouquet of your absolute favorite flowers, the goofiest smile planted on his face when he saw you coming around. “I fucking knew it.” You whispered to yourself; Logan nervously laughed, of course hearing what you said. “Surprisee…” He drew out, opening his arms up to you, wasting no time. You ran over to him, being engulfed in his oh-so-large arms that you loved. “I just saw how happy you were receiving those roses from that kid; I couldn't help it; I love seeing your smile.” He bashfully admitted, and you smiled up at him, planting a big, sloppy kiss on his cheek in response.

“I wanted to tell you so many times, but I wanted it to be special, y'know, because you're special.” His face was burning red as he spoke, “I notice everything about you, from the way flowers make your heart skip a beat to the way you rebuke the societal norms of appointment times.”

"God, I hate that everything is set in 5 or 10 minute increments.” You sighed against his chest, shaking your head. He laughed just at your dramatics, “Exactly why I had you show up at 7:26.” 

The rest of your evening was spent admiring the garden and teaching Logan about every flower you both came across, and of course he listened to everything, absorbing every minute detail he could. If your words were gold, he'd dress himself in them every day; he'd tattoo every sound that escaped from your mouth. You were as precious as rubies to him, and god, he was never letting you go.

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter five)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder) , MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, roughhousing, eventual piv, one chapter specific dubcon scene (pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 5/6

words: um. 9.5k (sorry? but also you're welcome??)

chapter warnings: this chapter contains a scene that falls solidly into dubcon territory, so please proceed with caution, stay safe out there.

moodboards

series masterlist

a/n: WELL. here we are, almost at the end of our little rollercoaster ride. i've lost brain cells over this chapter, almost cut it up into smaller chunks, but ended up leaving it as long as i originally planned (longer, in fact. whoops). as always, feedback is very welcome + encouraged (i love hearing/reading your thoughts as things progress) buckle up, please do take note of the dubcon warning, prepare for the angst, and most importantly, enjoy!

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

He was back to ignoring you again.

But this time, the feeling was mutual. You’d never felt as thoroughly rejected as you did the night he had you walk back to your room, legs weak, wrapped in nothing but his shirt.

Once upon a time, this scenario would have been one you dreamed of, but reality often falls flat on its face. You wouldn’t have dreamt of walking away from him like this if you’d known it would feel this empty.

Humiliation ran rampant through your body, starting with the tears you blinked away as you left his room, closing the door behind you, and then flooding over as you stepped into your own room, slumping on the bed, curling up into yourself and weeping, pressing your still aching legs together but too upset to finish yourself off.

You kicked yourself for getting carried away, for getting too loud, too possessive with his face between your thighs and your hand in his hair. For getting so caught up in the moment, briefly forgetting your games, and for believing even for a second that you would be on the same page.

This push and pull had begun to wear you thin, and you were tired. So, you slept. Until nearly midday the next morning, when Lucille knocked on your door to remind you it was time for your monthly PR debrief.

The good news, though arguable at this point, was that your arrangement hadn’t been affected by recent events. At least, not on paper. Cordelia ran you through each gala, public appearance, and dinner, barely noticing your preoccupation, rambling on about speeches, coordinating outfits, dates and times of events, what to say and how to say it.

For you - and you could only imagine, Coriolanus too - everything had changed over the span of a month. 

Your shame made you abnormally quiet, head hung low, gaze averted, nodding along as Cordelia prompted either a response or approval from you. Snow just stared, glancing at her only when completely necessary, but otherwise, he didn’t take his eyes off you.

He was enjoying this. The sick fuck. You were glad when the meeting ended and you could scamper into the library, eager to lose yourself in a story of any kind other than the one you were living.

This went on. By day, you barely looked at him; by night, you tried over and over to prove that your own fingers were enough to keep you satisfied. To convince yourself that you just wanted him, you didn’t need him.

Because if you needed him, then he called the shots. He would win. And victorious as he may seem, the game wasn’t over yet. You’d slipped up in a moment of vulnerability, he’d tricked you into a corner just to prove his point.

You wanted him, you didn’t need him. But if you did… well.

He was going to have to need you more.

You held back this time. Keeping your cards safe, close to your chest. In a strange way, you found a kind of solace in your arrangement. Recent events had caused it to feel unstable, breakable even, but the meeting had ensured that it was all still on the right track. It allowed you to take a small piece of what you wanted from him without guilt or repercussions. After all, it was planned out to benefit you both. Then, when you were ready, and with a gentle hand, you began to weaponise it, loading it up in the barrel of a gun aimed directly at Snow.

You didn't have much left, but you had this. You knew where your promiscuity had led you. This time, you wanted to pull on his heart strings. Make him feel remorse, or whatever similar emotion he was capable of. Make him soften to you. Torture him with almosts that were never enough.

So when you took, you took cautiously, tentatively. You deepened your usually light kisses to what was just past socially acceptable, only to pull back when Snow began to lean in, turning away and smiling at the people surrounding you, or full-on entering into conversation with somebody else. You'd brush your thumb against his when you held hands, waiting for him to look at you, drawing your hand away when he did. You'd offer smiles to everyone but him, talk and laugh a little louder when you could feel him watching.

You pretended he didn’t exist. You could feel him begin to simmer. It wasn't as brazen as your usual game, but it was working.

Until it wasn’t.

“Something’s wrong, what is it?”

Lucille’s face dropped, her shaking hands lowering from the zip she was struggling with. You were getting ready for a luncheon, and you’d picked out an emerald green dress, one of your favorites for daytime events.

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t notice, ma’am. I apologise. It’s my brother, he… it’s getting worse again.”

“Sit down for a second. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You listened to Lucille open up uncomfortably, visibly nervous that you would offer your financial support as you’d done before. But you didn’t, sparing her from having to turn you down.

Lucille was stubborn - she would never accept your charity. She was more than happy to work for her wages, and frequently worked longer hours. As months went by, you’d brought her pay up as high as you could without her noticing. But now things were getting more critical, and you knew there was only one thing you could do.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Go and see your brother.”

“But you’re not dressed-”

“I’ll take care of it. Go home, Lucille. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She smiled softly.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

You’d tried with the zip, you really had. You didn’t want to have to knock on Snow’s office door with two favors to ask instead of one, but the dress was tight and the zip kept getting jammed. So, there you stood, dress half undone at the back, heart in your throat. You counted your blessings; at least it wasn’t his bedroom. You didn’t think you could face him at all in there. You heard typing from inside.

“Come in.”

You pushed the door open, feeling like an intruder.

“Sorry, I just… Could you help me with this?” Your hand tightened behind your back, holding the dress together.

He narrowed his eyes. He was already in his suit, typewriter on the desk in front of him.

“Lucille forget how to do her job?”

“I don’t need snide right now. Please, Coriolanus? I’ll explain when I’m not half naked. It’s drafty in here.”

You tried to make it clear in your tone that this wasn’t some ploy. You weren’t sure you had many of those left to offer.

“Fine.” He sighed, and stood, making no motion towards you, so you crossed the room, gripping onto the fabric, turning your back to him.

His hand came to rest on your waist as the other took the zipper, and you tried not to flinch at his touch. You pressed your lips together as he carefully zipped you up, cold metal sending a chill down your spine. Or maybe that was just him. You felt your eyes slide shut and your lips part as his hand lingered on your waist. You couldn’t hear anything but your heartbeat and the tick of his grandfather clock.

“Is that okay? Not too tight?” His breath on your neck gave you goosebumps, you hoped desperately that he wouldn’t notice.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

The second his hand fell from your waist, you missed it. You carefully met his eye; he was looking at you like you had something he wanted.

So why hadn’t he wanted you? You’d been right there, and he’d turned you down.

He cleared his throat.

“I should finish this letter before we leave. Was there anything else?”

You paused.

“Actually, there is. Could I ask you a favor?” You glanced off to the side, suddenly very interested in the knots of wood on his desk. What helped was that you'd never seen inside this room before, and you hid behind your curiosity like it was a lifeline.

“What is it?”

“It’s…” you lowered your voice, “it’s about Lucille. Her brother, actually. He’s in the hospital again. The family can’t afford the medical bills to keep him in for as long as he needs. I’d like to foot the bill, but I can’t do it anonymously. I thought… well, I was wondering if you could pull a few strings.”

You were overexplaining, something you weren’t at all used to doing, but these days, just being in the same room as him made you nervous. You stared at his desk, at the lack of photographs on it, the single pen laying to the side, the smoothness of the glaze.

It was quiet for a moment.

“Consider it done.”

You looked up.

“Really?”

“Did you think I’d say no?” He asked.

“I- no, but…”

“It’s something that matters to you.”

You blinked, dumbfounded at how simply he put it.

“Yes. It is. Thank you, Coriolanus.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll make sure it’s anonymous.”

“Thank you. Or, I mean…”

He looked at you, and you wanted to melt. Wanted to throw strategy out the window, god, but -

You couldn’t. It hadn’t worked last time. You’d hoped to avoid a stalemate, but here you were, sat right in the middle of one.

“The car’s coming in a half hour. Are you almost ready?” He asked.

“Yes. Almost.”

The luncheon was going well, at first. You were at the head of a large table, sat beside Snow, straightening your salad fork as he stood up to make a speech. You’d been glancing at him throughout the afternoon; it wasn’t so hard to anymore. It felt like his willingness to help Lucille without question, just because it was what you wanted, had more of an effect on you in five minutes than the entire week of your teasing had on him. One conversation, and the tides had changed.

As he began talking, you started to realise that your gentler approach may have been affecting you more than it had him. The party was transfixed; people loved to hear him talk, and you were proud. He had a certain way with words; you knew better than anyone. You’d fallen victim to them.

You weren’t sure why his words affected you – you’d been there, you’d agreed when Cordelia had suggested he say something nice about you in this particular speech, really make the crowd swoon, lay it on thick - but when he started to talk about you, about how proud he was to have you by his side, how strong you were-

You knew he was just reciting a script written for him, but you couldn’t help it. The tears began to quietly fall. You thanked whatever higher being was listening for not letting anyone notice.

Or so you thought.

It was just typical that out of all the people that could’ve noticed, the one person who knew better was the only one who did.

The rest of them would’ve brushed it off as you simply being moved by emotion, honored by his kind words. You blinked away your tears, taking small, polite sips of your wine. It was painful because you knew it wasn’t true. None of it was, you knew he could never say those words and mean them.

And he knew that too.

It was dark when you got home, and you trailed behind him awkwardly on your way upstairs.

“Can I have a word?” his voice was gentle, and it set you on edge.

“Sure.”

You stood awkwardly in the hallway, then he led you into the office. He leaned against his desk, and you shifted your feet where you stood, eyes on the floor, on the art on the walls, on anything other than him.

“You were upset today.” He started.

You swallowed.

“It won’t happen again, I promise.” you kept your voice steady. He paused.

“If that was my fault, I apologise. If I took it too far, if I upset you-”

You weren’t sure which part he was talking about, but you finally looked at him in a sort of distant defiance.

“Do you even care if I’m upset?”

“Of course I do. Especially when it’s something that affects you… publicly.”

You huffed, forcing yourself to stare him down.

“Because that’s all that matters, right? What the public sees?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure it is. It’s okay, Snow. I’m a big girl. And I can take a hint, too. So don’t worry about me, I’ll be just fine. Business as usual, right?”

He just stared, puzzled. You took a breath.

“Look, it’s been a long day. Can I go, or are you going to keep me here all night?”

The silence was like smoke, clouding between you. His brow furrowed, calculating. Then he sighed, long and heavy, and you tried not to let it phase you.

“Fine. Go.”

You nodded.

“Goodnight.”

You’d never been more relieved to get away from him. Your broken walls were starting to build back up. You wouldn’t let him break you, you couldn’t. You were stronger than this.

That night, for the first time, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly what you wanted.

“Darling, you look ravishing.” Lilian drawled. “It’s a pity Snow is so far across the room, and can’t appreciate you. If I dressed half as nicely as you did, perhaps my dear husband wouldn’t be screwing the maid.”

A scandalised chorus of giggles erupted from the group. It was a pretty dress, one of your best. Long and smooth black fabric, ruched at the waist, with a deep cut up the leg that was just acceptable for an evening gala. You stood tall, champagne glass in hand, gossiping with your friends.

Well.

Friends was being generous. You kept few true friends, and they would hardly be gossiping in a circle like this.

Acquaintances was a better fit. Pawns if you were being brutally honest. Politicians’ wives, senators’ mistresses, a chancellor’s daughter or two. Pieces of chess, really, in this bigger game. Anyone who could help you climb higher, whisper carefully spun words into open ears at your whim.

“I just know George would rip that dress off me the moment I got home. He might not even be able to wait, and just pull me into a closet here instead.”

Another eruption of giggles.

“Well, I’m flattered, my darlings.” You smiled. “This is one of my favorites. Coriolanus treats me well.”

“I’m sure he does,” a suggestive glance from Lilian, “in all the ways one would expect, I assume?”

You gasped in mock modesty.

“Lilian,” you drawled, “I certainly hope you’re not suggesting I disclose our-”

“Oh, just tell us dear, please. We’re all dying to know. You’re always so coy about it. What’s he like?”

You pulled your lips into a knowing smile, your perfectly painted face helping you slide into this facade. You scanned your eyes across the ballroom, across to Snow. He stood talking to a group of men, colleagues of his. You recognised their faces.

It had been four days since the luncheon. Four days since your outburst. Four days of hiding away. You’d been dreading tonight’s gala, but it gave you an excuse to dress nicely, and as soon as you’d arrived, you and Coriolanus has gone your separate ways.

“Well,” you hummed, masking your uncertainty as anticipation, “he can be a slight tease.”

A few dramatic gasps sounded through the group, and you turned back to face them, their eyes wide and expectant.

“Salacious. Do tell.” Another voice piped up with a giggle.

“He can be fun to toy with. I do enjoy pushing back, but sometimes he takes it… a little far.” You said carefully.

“My, who would have known? But you get what you want, my dear, surely.” Lilian asked.

You smiled, glancing back at him, suit pristine with a white rose in his breast pocket. You hated how good he looked. He was smiling politely at the group of men around him, but you could tell from the tick in his jaw that something was bothering him.

“Sometimes, I do. Others, I wait for my chance to push his buttons right back.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? I don’t suppose,” she pressed, “that you’re in one of those… entanglements at the moment?”

“Lilian, darling, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Another giggle sounded from the group.

“Oh, my.” Lilian repeated, glancing between the two of you. “I do hope you’ve been making him suffer.”

“Well, I’m playing a longer game this time, so I’m afraid there hasn’t been as much fun lately.”

Lilian sucked in a breath, like the perfect idea had just dawned on her.

“Well, I see no moment like the present. You’re here, you’re dressed marvellously, I propose you walk right over there and show him just what he’s missing.”

A chorus of yes and do it and we’ll cheer you ons rang out. Loosened by the champagne, you looked across the room at him again. You could do it. He wouldn’t be able to react, it would be the most perfect torture. You suddenly decided that you were done making small moves, done playing it safe like this was some schoolgirl crush. It was time to step up to the mark again. Take your power back.

Your group could sense the newfound determination in you. You smiled, slow and cunning.

Show him what he’s missing.

Simple. It’s what you did best.

“Watch and learn, ladies.”

A hush fell over the group as they watched you run a hand through your hair, handed your glass to one of them, and pressed your lips together. Before you’d left the house you’d added a swipe of red lipstick, dark red, almost bloodlike. It always made you feel more confident and tonight, you needed the pick me up.  

The middle of the ballroom was practically empty; the dancing was over, and everyone had long since gathered in groups to the sides. So you turned heads when you stepped out, the only one on the floor, black satin hugging your frame like a second skin. You didn’t look at them, you made a steady beeline to Snow. You felt more and more eyes on you as you crossed the room, heels clicking on the floor. They all watched, waiting for… something. Coriolanus didn’t look up until you were a mere few steps away, now deep in some conversation he was going to forget very shortly.

Blue eyes flashed to yours with a confused apprehension, but you didn’t give yourself time to think about the twitch of his brow, or the looks on the faces of his colleagues. You didn’t think about the way he opened his mouth as if to say something, only for it to be swallowed away.

You didn’t think about any of that.

Because your lips were on his.

Hot and hungry, teeth clashing, your hand grabbing the back of his neck as he leaned in, surprised at first, then warm, wanting. Lips tugging at yours like he was starving.

It was sinful.

You’d never been kissed like this before. Your fuzzy brain wondered how you’d gone through life not knowing what this felt like, the press of his lips devouring yours, heated and messy.

He kissed you like breathing, like you were his oxygen supply. His hand slid to your waist and pulled you in, and you heard the echoes of chuckling coming from around you, morphing into a few light claps.

Then, just as you felt him fully melt into you, your hand slipped higher to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of perfect platinum curls, and tugged.

It was nothing but an affectionate display to the people surrounding you, but a brazen reminder between the two of you. It was your way of showing you hadn’t forgotten, that you wouldn’t be made to feel ashamed, to cower in a corner while he got the better of you.

Not in this lifetime.

The second it happened, his breath hitched, and his hand tensed on your waist. You were the only one who caught it, getting high off the satisfaction, finally pulling away.

You weren’t sure you’d ever seen a prettier sight; his blown-out eyes, his face stained with scarlet.  

How’s that for tasting your own medicine.

Watching him attempt to collect himself was sweeter still. Watching him reset his face into one of distant amusement. He let out a small laugh, glanced at the rest of the party.

“Everything alright, doll? Had a little much champagne, perhaps?”

His colleagues chuckled, but you didn’t look their way. You stood your ground. Offered a sweet smile, but he could see your slyness.

“Oh, I’m swell. And I think I’ve had just enough, actually. I’m gonna go freshen up.”

You turned on your heel and made your way through winding halls to the bathroom, riding an adrenaline high. You picked up a glass from a server’s tray along the way – the champagne had dried out, all they were serving now was posca, which while disgusting, worked a treat to take the edge off. It wasn’t long before the door swung open and you saw Coriolanus appear behind you in the mirror.

“This is the ladies’ room, handsome.” You looked away, continuing to reapply your lipstick.

He stepped closer.

“What was that kiss about, sweetheart?” Straight to the point.

“Nothing.” You shrugged.

“Didn’t feel like nothing.”

“That’s called acting, Snow.”  You rolled your eyes, vaguely aware that your words sounded a little jumbled. You put the tube of lipstick away. “We had an audience. A rather expectant one at that.”

He folded his arms.

“I don’t like it when you catch me off guard like that. Not with people around.”

“Seemed to like it plenty to me.” You mumbled.

He didn’t answer, pacing past you to the other sink, grabbing a towel and wiping it against his face, where the red had stained his skin. It only served to spread it around further, and if you weren’t already smugly entertained by the marks you’d left on him, now it was just plain funny.

He glared at you when you laughed.

“Don’t give me that look. Here,” you offered, stepping across to him, taking the towel and wetting it, “let me.”

You wiped at a patch, but he snatched the towel back and took over.

“No, you’re rubbing it too hard. It’s-” he glowered at you – “fine. Do it your way.”

You went back to lean against your sink and took another sip of posca, admiring the ornate decorations in the room. A little excessive, a little new money for your tastes.

There was a rap on the door.

“President Snow?”

“Just a minute.” He said coolly.

“You’re in a mood tonight.” You remarked, and he huffed.

“Running a country can get exhausting. Don’t expect you to understand.”

“Right.” You said flatly. “Because I’m just a brainless pawn like everybody else.”

He looked over at you, at the drink in your hand.

“How many of those have you had?”

You shrugged again, and he tossed the towel into the sink, walking over to you.

“Answer me.” His voice was stern, and for a second, you soaked it in, drenched in the danger as he approached, closing in. Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips, and your eyes followed his as he moved to stand in front of you.

“Shame you don’t have someone to let all that frustration out on, isn’t it? Sounds like that could be helpful.”

His eyes pierced yours.

“Doll-”

“I’m just saying, it’s a pity you don’t.” You moved to bring the glass to your lips, anticipating the burn in your throat, but he gently stopped your hand.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Posca? It’s my first glass.” You smiled, eyes batting.

“You know what I mean. I think you should stop.”

You looked at the glass, then back at him, and pried your hand away, slowly and pointedly taking another sip.

“Sweetheart.” He warned.

“What, are you punish me? Gonna make me beg for you then kick me out again? Already did that once.”

He gave an incredulous half-laugh.

“That’s what this is about? You’re not really going to be mad about that forever, are you?”

“That depends. How long is forever?”

The door knocked again, and he worked the glass out of your hand.

“Drink some water. Sober up. We’ll talk about this when we get home.”

You sighed, heading for the door, but glanced back at him, his face still a stained mess. You brushed a finger against your own cheek to mirror his.

“You missed a spot.”

You sat in silence in his office, feeling a little like a schoolchild caught misbehaving. His typing was the only sound in the room. The seat was low; almost as if it was there to point out his authority over anyone who sat in it. Knowing him, it probably was.

He’d managed to clean off the rest of your lipstick, but his face looked rubbed raw, uncomfortable. A tall glass of water sat on the desk in front of you.

“Thought you said we’d talk.”

“Not until you finish that glass. I’m not talking to you inebriated.”

“Seriously?”

He shot you a look from behind his typewriter.

“Fine. Whatever.” You reached for it and took a few sips. He looked back down again. A few folders cluttered the desk, and in your boredom, your eyes scanned them. They looked complicated; legal.

“What are you writing there anyway? Or am I too dumb to understand?”

He offered another unimpressed glance.  

“It’s a new bill I’m trying to pass. Except apparently, I’m the only one around here with their head screwed on enough to work on it.”

You waited as Snow pushed the typewriter’s lever, carriage sliding the page as he began writing the next line. You sipped your water.

He sighed. “One day I won’t have to mingle with these idiots anymore. They’ll just listen to me, and obey.”

You took that in.

“Do you feel that way about me?”

He studied you for a second, and stopped typing.  

“No. Not really.”

“But you wish I’d be more… compliant.” You stared at the floor.

“Not necessarily.”

“You sure? Didn’t seem to like it the other night.”

His eyes narrowed. Knowing this conversation was a game of chess like any other. But lately the stakes were higher than ever.

“Never said I didn’t like it. Just that you were out of line.”

“And where is that fucking line?” You snapped. “I’m serious, Snow, because we’ve never talked about it.”

“You want to talk, all of a sudden? Okay, sweetheart. Fire away.”

You put the glass down on the table, heavier than intended.

“I just don’t understand you, Coriolanus. I mean, first you don’t want me, then you do want me, then you don’t again. And now what? I don’t know what I’m supposed to think when you don’t give me anything to go off.”

He watched you carefully, and you wanted to shake him, to scream, anything that would give you answers. You stood, unable to sit still, and started pacing.

“You know what’s worse? I don’t even know if you want me here anymore. I don’t know how to act around you because I never know what you’re thinking. At first I thought all this, the whole push and pull, was just some control thing. But-” you laughed, airy and insane, “you know what I realised? You’ve had me fooled, Snow. All this time I thought we were equals, but now I think I finally realise.”

He frowned, waiting for you to continue.

“You pay for my company, if you think about it. We trade services, don’t we? You get something from me, I get something back. I live in your house, eat your food, wear nice clothes. At the end of the day, that’s just it, isn’t it?”

“What?”

You shrugged, tears filling your eyes as bitterness took over, so strong you could almost taste it.  

“I’m no better than a whore myself.”

You’d never heard a louder silence. If that hadn’t just taken everything out of you, you’d have begged him to say something. Instead, you just stared, eyes blurry with tears, as he seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, and you gave up trying to read his mind, because his expression was indecipherable.  

After what felt like hours, he took a long breath.

“Sit down.”

You glanced at the floor, then took a step towards your chair. He stopped you.

“Not there. Here.” He nodded at the desk in front of him, and you swallowed thickly, stepping around the desk, getting awfully close to him, and pulling yourself onto the desk, legs pressed together. He stood, looking down at you. 

“That’s really what you think of yourself?” He asked, voice steady and controlled.

You kept your eyes averted.

“Am I wrong?”

He lifted a hand and brushed his fingertips against your jaw, tipping your head up to look at him. And when you looked at his eyes, you knew exactly what he was feeling. He wasn’t hurt, or upset.

He was mad.

“Tell me something. What do you think I’d do if I heard someone talking about you that way?

“I don’t-”

“I’d have them executed. And you expect me to stand by and let you talk about yourself like that?”

You felt a tear spill down your cheek.

“I don’t know, Coriolanus, you tell me. Am I disposable to you?”

“Of course not."

“But you’d replace me if I left.”

“What makes you think I’d let you leave in the first place?”

A chill caressed your spine.

“That’s right. I’m keeping you here, doll. If I made you doubt that, I apologise. But you’re no whore. Though sometimes, I…” He trailed off.

“What?”

His eyes were on your lips again, hungry. You wondered how someone could switch from distant to depraved and wanting this quickly.

“Sometimes I wish you were. Because it’d make it a lot easier for me to take what I want. If you were, then I’d have no hesitation in ripping your clothes off right here. Fucking you on my desk, or up against the wall, not caring if you cum. Not caring if you enjoy it. If you were a whore, I’d have fucked you in every room in this house, twice over. I wouldn’t let you sleep.”

His hand was on your thigh, the now-creased fabric of your dress crumpling as it slid up. You weren’t sure when your eyes had fallen shut, your hot breath mixing with his as his thumb rubbed against your skin.

Your voice was pathetically quiet.

“Then why don’t you?”

He sighed, tone shifting into something tense, something you could cut through with a knife.

“Because you’re fucking impossible, you know that? I can barely think when you’re around. I don’t know where the games begin or end. I don’t… I don’t understand this power you have over me. I thought you knew, you must know that you’re under my skin. I don’t know if you’ll ever stop playing with me. It drives me fucking insane.”

You opened your eyes, hand gripping his wrist and pulling it from your thigh. You slid off the desk and took a step away from him.

“You think I’m playing with you? The only time you pay an ounce of attention to me is when you’re trying to fuck with my head, Snow. I said my piece, you heard me and you still didn’t care. So please, for both our sakes, stop torturing me. Just… come find me when you decide you want me again, okay? Let’s leave it at that.”

You made for the door, which you slammed with such an impressive force that it even took you aback.

You replayed his words in your head that night until you fell into a deep sleep, and when you woke, you felt like your dreams made more sense than he did.

“Tigris!” you exclaimed, catapulting into the blonde’s arms. The people who stood scattered around you in the manor’s large ballroom spun their heads around at your display. A few even dodged to the side as the momentum that you’d built running down the stairs nearly knocked her over.

A few days of silent glances and fewer exchanged words had passed. And now, you were just happy to be hosting in the comfort of your own home, and to finally see Tigris again. You wondered if she noticed how you hugged her, if she wondered - like you did - if you’d ever let go.

“I’m so happy you’re here. How’s your Grandma’am?”

“She’s quite well, she’s sorry she couldn’t make it. You look beautiful as ever. It’s been too long!”

“I know! I don’t think I’ve seen you since your birthday, which makes me the worst friend ever.” You groaned, scrunching up your face in shame.

“It’s okay! I know busy Coriolanus keeps you with all these functions. You must be going out of your mind by now. How are you holding up?”

The two of you walked to the edge of the room, where prying eyes had settled down after your greeting.

You looked at Snow, stood across the ballroom, dressed in a pristine suit with a champagne glass in hand, talking to yet another group of men who worked for him – ministers and such, a little higher ranking than the group from the other night – and spared you the occasional glance. As if he was keeping tabs on you. It wasn’t long before Tigris caught on and politely inquired.

“I don’t understand him, Tigris. I think he hates me.” You sighed.

“What? No, he could never. He has a soft spot for you, really, and I have it on good authority.”

“I’m not so sure anymore. I think I’ve pushed it a little far this time. I think… maybe we both did. I’m in uncharted waters, here.”

“Look, I know I don’t know all the ins and outs of how this thing between you works, but I don’t think he could ever hate you for doing anything. Coryo – I mean, Coriolanus, he does care, contrary to popular belief. It’s just that his way of showing it can get a little…”

“Fucked?” You offered, and she laughed.

“Yes, exactly. Now, I’m not going to lie to you and say that he’s an angel on earth, he’s had to do things to get to where he is now. Things that even I don’t know the extent of, and they’ve… changed him.”

You rarely got the chance to speak with Tigris alone these days, with Snow usually playing chaperone, or keeping one or the both of you busy, but it had always been easy to slide right back into conversation with her like you’d never been apart.

You’d first met Tigris at a Plinth gala years ago, on the same day you’d met Snow. The two of you had talked and laughed and she had an easiness around her, she wasn’t shallow and judgemental like a lot of the girls you’d grown up with, though you never knew why until many months later. Snow had placed a large wall between his life before the Plinth endorsement, and after. Few people knew the conditions he’d grown up in, but after countless hours with Tigris, you’d begun to assemble small pieces. Despite your closeness with her, you knew from her warnings that Snow had a sort of temper when it came to this topic, so you approached it with caution.

“Changed him how?” You inquired, finally.

“Well… It wasn’t always fancy balls and lunches with him. It never was, with any of us, as you know, but especially for him. He’s… had a different experience. Grandma’am and I, we’ve known hard times, but we haven’t seen what he’s seen. Not even close.”

“What kind of things?”

She glanced over her shoulder, making sure nobody was hovering.

“He’d kill me for telling you.”

“You know I won’t say a word. But you don’t have to tell me, if it’s too much to ask.”

 She took in a breath, and sipped her drink, voice dropping to a whisper.

“This stays between us, okay? Coriolanus has… been out there. In the districts, I mean. Before all this. And I can’t go into detail, he’d have my head if I…”

You swallowed.

“The districts? But… why? I don’t-”

“Tigris, lovely to see you, it’s been so long.” A male voice interrupted, and you quickly excused yourself, slipping away to let the two of them talk.

After mulling it over in your head and making small talk with a few more guests, you snuck out of a side door and into the hallways, winding upstairs until you were finally met with Snow’s bedroom door. The sound of voices and music a mere echo below you, you pushed tentatively, and stepped inside. It was strange, being in there alone, for the first time since he’d turned you away. But you paced the floor, looking for something, anything, that would answer the questions you had. Why the districts? Why couldn’t Tigris tell you what had happened there?

Glancing back at the door, you began thumbing through his closet, peeking inside drawers. You’d already given his room a once over, but you worked more meticulously this time, every corner you unsuccessfully turned over only fuelling your curiosity. You walked around the room again, getting frustrated.

You headed back to the door, scanning the place, and retraced your steps a third time. Knocking a little on cupboards and anything that appeared the slightest bit odd or out of place. It was a perpetually tidy room, neat as ever, save for the desk which contained folders you were sure weren’t for your eyes, but that didn’t stop you. You kept on, trying your best not to leave any stone unturned, and most importantly, trying not to move anything out of place.

Eventually, you moved to the smaller desk drawers again, rifling through them haphazardly, annoyed by the lack of evidence you were finding. One of the two drawers had very little inside it, just a pencil and a pocket dictionary, and as you pushed your hand further inside to feel for anything else, you noticed it felt smaller than the first. Shallower. When you knocked, it was hollow.

It had a false bottom.

Your father used to keep his cigars beneath one of these when you were growing up, so you knew what to look for. You felt around the edge until you touched a small, metal handle, then emptied the drawer, hooked your fingers into the handle and pulled. You frowned at first, there was less in the hidden compartment than there was above it. But you peered inside, and there lay two items: an old photograph, and a silver dog tag.

Suddenly, it all made sense. His efficiency, his drive, his orderliness.

Military. The districts. The dog tag.

You unfolded the photograph, caked in a layer of dust, and it hit you like a ton of rocks.  

Coriolanus was a peacekeeper.

But why? When? And why keep it a secret?

In the photograph, his hair was buzzed, and he was in a uniform you recognised immediately; if only because of the annual reaping ceremony shown in every building in the Capitol. He was standing next to a boy with dark hair, also buzzed. You recognised him as Sejanus Plinth, you’d never met the kid but you’d been to his funeral with your family, and had seen enough pictures to know.

You knew that the Plinth family had backed Coriolanus’ education, that he became their new heir, a protégé of sorts, but not that he’d been friends with their son. Not that they’d been this close, at least. They weren’t smiling in the photo, stood pin straight and alert in what looked like barracks.  

You folded the photograph and placed it back where you found it. Your hands lingered on the dog tag, though, despite the logical side of your brain screaming at you to put it back, leave the room and pretend you didn’t see this. But the louder part egged you on as you pulled it out of the drawer, examining the engraved words, running your hands over the name SNOW and, further down, DISTRICT 12.

You’d heard bedtime stories from your mother while growing up, about the war, the Hunger Games and why they existed, and why it was never safe to set foot in the districts, not even the richer ones.

They’re beneath us, she’d said. They’re dangerous. Barbaric. And 12 was notoriously the poorest, most dangerous of them all.

Coriolanus had now become more of an enigma to you than ever before, and a thousand new questions flooded your head.

You closed the drawer halfway, holding the chain, pulling out a chair in front of the mirror to sit down. You turned the tag over in your hands, as if it would start giving you the answers, if only you looked hard enough.

Why was he sent to 12? Why couldn’t he talk about it?

Despite the conditions Snow grew up in, there was respect behind his family name. It didn’t make sense why someone of his social standing and education would leave to be a peacekeeper, of all things, and in 12, of all places. A strange sort of pity filled you, wondering what he could’ve seen out there. What he could’ve done. It all drew you in as you got lost in a world of what ifs.

Despite yourself, you pushed your hair from your neck, and as if in a trance, wrapped the chain around it. It fell heavy and cold against your skin, sending a chill through your bones. You were so busy staring down at it, so lost in thought that you barely noticed the sound of the door pushing open. Or the floorboards lightly creaking. Or his reflection in the mirror. You didn’t notice any of that, until the door swung shut with a bang.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Coriolanus had had a long day, most of which he’d spent simmering over work and you. He’d kept his eye on you that evening; on the way you’d thrown yourself into Tigris’ arms, and talked, transfixed, and he hated not knowing what was being said. A strange feeling set in as he saw the two of you get deeper into conversation from the other side of the large room, a deep-seated uneasiness stirring him up as he drowned out the tales of his associates’ incompetence. It felt like a breath of relief when he sent someone your way to interrupt whatever talk you were having, pretending that Tigris had been looking for him earlier. He focused on your brief tour of the room when the distraction worked, eyes flitting around like you were preoccupied.

When he saw you dart away from the ballroom and up one of the stairwells, he followed you as soon as he got the chance.

He’d wondered if you might act up today, but this wasn’t what he was expecting. When he saw you, the all too familiar glint of silver around your pretty neck, something shifted in him. Something he’d done a very, very good job of keeping at bay during his first few years of presidency.

Rage.

Your eyes met his in the mirror.

“Coriolanus, I-”

His hands were on you before you could finish your sentence, hauling you out of the chair, fingers wrapped in a death grip around your arms, squeezing as he pushed you to the wall with a satisfying thud.

“What, you can explain? I highly doubt that.”

“I’m sorry, I just-” You gasped as he squeezed tighter, gripping your wrists.

“Do you even know what this means?” He seethed, dog tag pressed between his fingers, chain pulling at your neck.

The forest. The birds. The gunshots that deafened him for weeks.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry. I never knew you were a peacekeeper, Coryo, I-” He flinched, saw the way you winced the second it passed your lips.

Snow may have been cold, but his eyes were fire. And you were only stoking it.

“So I’m Coryo now? Who the fuck told you call me that? Was it Tigris? I saw you talking to her, don’t lie to me.”

“No.” You shook your head. “She didn’t tell me anything, I promise. Please. It was just me.”

He moved in closer, eclipsing you altogether, grip on the chain so tight he was certain you’d be able to feel it pinching the back of your neck, digging a mark into your flesh. He let the sadistic part of his brain take delight in it, in the way your eyes widened, face pleading.

Whatever this game was between you, you’d gone too far this time.

“How did you find this?” He snapped.

You were crowded against the wall, unable to move. Tears started to brim, and you didn’t answer, he wasn’t sure you could. You just shook your head over and over, repeating I’m sorry like a broken record.

“Take this off. Now. Take it off.” He ordered, dropping it back to your chest, stepping away a little so you could lift your shaking arms over your head, removing the chain. He snatched it from you, gripping it in his palm, looking down at it, and you breathed out in relief.

“I didn’t mean to… I was just looking. I had so many questions. I didn’t know what I’d find.”

“And? Are you fucking satisfied now?” His voice chilled you to the bone as he looked up at you again.

You shook your head. Apologised again. Wished you could apologise in any way that would matter, but it was too late. You’d never been more afraid in your life, anticipating what might happen, remembering echoes of rumors you’d heard, of Snow poisoning his enemies, of sending them to hang. Some you knew to be true, but others you boiled down to rebel gossip.

Now, you weren’t so sure. These were the eyes of a man who’d dropped his mask, and it was like staring into a dark void. You could get lost in it, and never find your way back.

“Please. Don’t… I won’t tell anyone, I promise. You can trust me.”

He scoffed.

Stupid girl. Hadn’t you learned by now, that trust meant nothing?

“Like I trusted you in here? I don’t think so. Can’t believe you had me feeling sorry for you. Probably just made it up so you could lower my guard then turn around and stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I didn’t, Coriolanus, I swear.” You pleaded. You were crying, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’ve been very patient with you, little girl. But this is where I draw the line. You have no idea how far you’ve pushed me. And you don’t even realise it, you’re so caught up in your little crush. Do you know how easy I’ve been going on you? The things I’ve let you get away with… I’ve killed people for much less.”

“You’ve…” You trailed off, barely hearing your own words, barely processing a thing. He laughed, low and dark.

“Does that scare you, sweetheart? Does it make you afraid?”

Eyes frozen open, you just stared. You felt your jaw go slack.

“Good.”  

Coriolanus toed an invisible line, one that had never been crossed before. You wanted him to show you he wanted you? Fine.

He looked down at the chain wrapped around his fist, but he didn’t pocket it, or place it to the side. He unwound it, and slowly pulled it over his own neck.

Your eyes dropped to where it sat in stark contrast, heavy and shining, garish against his fancy dress shirt. You felt your blood run cold.

“Get on your knees.” You heard him say. Your eyes darted back up.

“What?”

When he spoke, it sounded like someone else was talking. Someone you didn’t know at all.

“You heard me. Get on your fucking knees. Right now.”

What could you do? This was what you’d wanted. Just… not like this. Not when your hands were shaking in fear, and you had no idea what this Coriolanus was capable of.

Your head said yes; your heart wept. But you were far past listening to your sorry heart.

So, you obeyed. Legs all but giving in as you lowered yourself to the ground, knees meeting cold hardwood as the chill cut through your dress.

His fingers slipped under one of the straps.

“Take this off, baby.” He murmured, distant, like he wasn’t all there. Your head hung in shame, eyes on his feet as you pushed the straps from your shoulder, top half of the dress falling down. You heard his zipper slide down, and you shivered. No longer sure if it was in fear or anticipation.

“Head up. Look at me. Good,” he said, when you obliged, “now let’s see what this pretty mouth’s really good for, shall we?”

More tears welled up as his hand brushed your jaw, hooking a thumb to your bottom lip, pushing your mouth open. You couldn’t help the way your tongue grazed over it, tasting salt, whining when you realised it was the taste of your own tears. When your eyes fell open again, you finally caught a look at him, hard and tip weeping, and your brain filled with nothing but want, eclipsing your fear for a mere second, enough to bring Coriolanus to the ground again. He may have done terrible, unspeakable things, but he was still a man. A man who wanted you.

And why did that make your heart beat out of your chest? It thrummed like a hummingbird as you took in the sight of him, unbuttoning his shirt as he waited for you to move.

You’d seen how big he was from a distance. You’d felt him between layers of fabric, and you’d imagined this a million times over. But now, as he stood waiting in front of you, you hesitated, because it all finally felt real. Your mouth watered despite yourself, seeing the mess he’d already made, any more and he’d start dripping -

“Go on, sweetheart. It’s not gonna suck itself.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you let him past your lips. The heady taste of precum filled your mouth as you ran your tongue along the shaft slowly, trying to start steady. He wasn’t having it. His hand twisted through your hair, pulling you in closer, making you gag a little. You instinctively lifted a hand up to his thigh to brace yourself, and he laughed.

“Giving up so soon? Thought you’d try harder than that.”

He pushed further, and the indignant sound you made as you adjusted only served to spur him on.

You tried to focus on breathing through it, but he slipped in and out your mouth unevenly, and faster than you could think, catching you off guard. He looked down at the way your mouth struggled to take his length as if you were a piece of art, like he was mesmerised by it, and that feeling was encouragement was enough to keep you going. His hand twisted harder in your hair, making a fist, and he swore when you hummed in discomfort.

“Look at you.” He said, strung-out and shaky. “You strut right in here from your silver spoon life, and think you can call the shots? You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, sweetheart. You have no fucking idea what the world is really like. What people are like. What they have to do to survive.”

He moved faster, and you let your jaw go slack. You were barely moving now, he was starting to fuck your throat like he owned it. You’d started to cry again, and when you looked up at him, it was a blur. The furthest you could see was his chest, shirt unbuttoned and falling to the sides, and the dog tag, silver catching in the low light, swinging against his chest as he moved. You closed your eyes again, trying to go somewhere else in your head. Trying to breathe through your nose, to focus on being used, on how good you were making him feel, on finally being his. It was all you had left to hold on to.

But he was unwinding you with his words, knowing just where to press to make it sting, to make the tears fall harder.

“You don’t have any fucking shame about it either. Touching yourself on my bed and wearing my clothes, like you’re – fuck, that’s it - like we’re married or something. Like you’re worth more than everyone else. But look at you. Maybe you were right after all. Maybe you are my whore.” he gritted out.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried desperately to catch your breath between sobs.  

“I mean, you sure look like it now, on your knees for me, making a mess of your pretty face. So fucking good. You’re sucking me off better than she did, and you’re barely even trying.”

You hated it. Hated the way his thumb brushed painfully gently against your cheek, dusting away a tear as his cock bruised the back of your throat and you tried not to gag around him. Hated the way his words twisted around in your head, and how fucked up it was that your broken brain took it as praise instead of punishment.

Most of all, you hated the throb between your shaking legs, panties soaked through and probably ruined. Humiliation seeped through you as you imagined it dripping down your legs and onto the floor. Your salty tears spilled down your face, mixing with your spit and his precum. Hating every second, until your head went blank, and you didn’t feel much of anything anymore.

You weren’t sure exactly how it happened.

One second, he was pulling your hair, twitching in your mouth and spilling down your throat, and the next, in what felt like a flash, you were on the floor, loud, wrecked sobs spilling out of you as you held your knees to your chest, face hidden. He was on the floor too - when did he get down? - and his voice was soft, oh so soft and gentle, saying something you couldn’t quite make out, dull and repetitive past your ringing ears.

“- so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I know I - I didn’t… I took it too far. Can you hear me, sweetheart? Look at me. Please, look at me. I’m right here.”

You pulled your head from your hands, and through blurred eyes, you looked at him.

This wasn’t a face you’d seen on him before. His brows knitted, lips apart as he stared at you, like you were some wounded animal he wanted to save.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Please.”

“I can’t…” You trailed off.

“You can tell me.”

Another wave of choked back sobs took over you. He held your jaw up like you were something breakable. Like maybe you’d broken already, and he was holding you together.

“I can’t do this.” You whispered. “Not like-”

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek.

“Okay. It’s okay, baby. Tell me what I can do for you. Just say the word.”

You caught your breath, and he flinched a little as you collapsed into his arms. The cool metal of the dog tag pressed into your cheek.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You cried.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t realise how far I’d pushed you until… I know I can’t make it up to you, but I’ll try. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. If you want to leave, I understand. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“What? No, that’s not…”

He cut you off, looking into your eyes.

“Decide tomorrow, okay doll? You don’t have to think about that now.”

“I didn’t know about… about the districts.” You hiccupped. “About you. You didn’t want me to know. I ruined everything, I-”

“Listen to me. It doesn’t matter anymore, I promise you. It’s okay, baby.”

You nodded into his chest.

“Here.” He leaned away from you, and you looked up in a question. He took the chain from his neck and placed it in your palm.

“You can have it. So long as nobody sees. You can throw it away, wear it around the house, whatever you want. It’s yours.”

You pressed it between your fingers. It cooled your hot skin like a salve.

“Thank you.” You whispered. Your head sank back onto his chest, and when you spoke again, it was barely audible.

“Coryo?”

He tensed for a second, but relaxed again just as quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

His hand brushed gently against your hair, and you relaxed into it.

“Of course you can.”

a/n: baby's first dubcon scene!! (screams cries and throws up bc navigating that was scary as fuck) p.s one more chapter left!! do we think they'll get their shit together?? who knows!! (i know)

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904 @pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @snowlandstop @badbleep88

(more tags in the reblogs/comments)

if you’d like to be tagged, pls comment on the series masterlist (helps me keep track of everyone!!) 💌

[sister-lucifer]

“Can I ride you until I feel better?” 

Demon brothers x Reader (Separately)

You’ve had an awful day, and you ask him if you can ride him until you feel better. How does he react?

Reader is gender neutral 

Content/Warnings: Riding, mentions of cockwarming, pre established relationships

like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio 

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and it really helps me out 

Lucifer 

When you first sulked into the room, clearly unhappy, he admittedly was a bit annoyed 

But instead of whining to him like his brothers would, you walked over to his desk and crouched beside him, resting your chin on his knee

“Yes, darling?” 

“Lucifer, I had a bad day…” 

“I could pick up on that.” 

“Can I ride you until I feel better?” 

He froze immediately 

At first he thought it was some weird joke, but when you didn’t laugh he realized you were very serious. 

He could feel his face go hot, but he tried to keep himself calm and collected 

He thought for a moment, then sighed, scooting back from his desk just enough to make room for you and patted his lap 

“Alright, my love. But I hope you know I’m not going to be taking a break from my work, which means you’ll have to do the heavy lifting.”

And if you’re okay with that, feel free to ride him for as long as you’d like 

And when you’re done, stay on his lap for a bit longer and keep his cock warm for him 

If you do, he might just reward you when he’s done working 

Mammon 

“Maaaammoooon!” 

“What d’ya want, human?!” 

He was certainly not in the mood to be barged in on. He was trying to look through a catalogue, this was very important! 

But when you flopped down onto the bed with a whine, he could tell you felt bad

“Hey, what’s the matter, doll face? Ya look down.” 

“Bad day…” 

“Ah, I see. So you want The Great Mammon’s help, huh?”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you in close, allowing you to whisper in his ear

“I wanna ride you ‘til I feel better…”

His eyes went wide, and his brain might’ve shut down for a second 

“Oh…” 

Soon, his flabbergasted expression is replaced with a sly smirk as he pulls you into his lap. 

“Of course you can, babes! The Great Mammon is always here to help.”

Leviathan 

He was playing a video game in his room when you knocked on his door. He was at first annoyed at the disturbance, but when he realized it was you he was ecstatic 

“Hello my player two! I’ve been waiting for you, I…hey, what’s wrong?”

“Had a bad day…” 

“Oh no! C’mere, sit with me! I’ll make you feel better.”

He pat the bed next to him before returning his attention to his game, rambling about the current storyline or side quest he was one 

But he was promptly cut short when you put a hand on his chest 

“Levi, can I ride you until I feel better?”

Levi.EXE has stopped working 

Red in the face, sweating buckets, heartbeat in his ears

“Uh…Haha! That’s a funny joke, player two! Haha..hah…wait, are you serious?!”

“If you don’t want to, Levi—“

“NO! I-I mean—no, I want to!” 

He’ll try to focus on his game at first, but he gives in so easily 

By the end of it his controller will be discarded on the floor while he whines into the crook of your neck 

Satan 

He was reading a book in his room when you came in 

He immediately sensed something was off, even before you flopped face first down onto his bed with a groan 

”What’s the matter, dear?”

”Today was awful…” 

“Aw, I’m sorry, love. Can I help?” 

You didn’t reply at first as you snuggled up next to him, making him chuckle under his breath. 

“Mm…can I ride you until I feel better?” 

He’s taken aback by the request at first, wondering for a moment if you really said that, but once he processes the words he merely gives you a smile 

“Is that what you need, dear?” He coos as he pulls you in close. 

“Alright then, come on, I’m all yours.” 

Asmodeus

He was doing his makeup when you entered his room, and he saw you behind him in the mirror 

“Oh hello, sweetheart! Finally back, I see. Hey, what’s with the face? Frowning will give you wrinkles!” 

He got up to wrap you in a hug, stroking your hair and inquiring about your problem

“I had a bad day…”

“Aww, baby, c’mere.”

He leads you to the bed and is already sitting you on his lap

Just when you go to ask him, he beats you to the punch 

Thats the best thing about dating Asmo; he always knows exactly what you need

“Wanna ride me? It’ll make you feel better.”

Your answer is a resounding yes 

And Asmodeus isn’t stopping until you’ve forgotten all your worries

Beelzebub 

He was munching on whatever he dug out of the fridge when you came into he and Belphie’s shared room 

Luckily Belphie was out at the time—probably napping in the living room or the attic—which meant you could be alone with your boyfriend 

“Today was terrible, Beel…” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Wanna bite?” 

It was a poor attempt at comfort, but the fact that he was trying made you smile 

“No thank you, Beel. I want something else…” 

He had just shoved the rest of his snack into his mouth when you climbed on top of him 

“Can I ride you until I feel better?” 

He almost choked 

But when he realized you were serious, he couldn’t refuse 

“If that’s what you want, but…why not let me do the work? It’ll help you relax more, I think.” 

Belphegor 

He was roused from his nap when he heard you coming up the attic stairs 

Normally he would sleep through the noise, but for some reason you always managed to wake him 

“Belphie, are you asleep?” You whispered as you creaked the door open 

He was, in fact, not asleep 

“What’s up?” 

“I…had a bad day today…” 

That was all the explanation he needed before he was making room for you to lay beside him

You snuggled in close, letting him wrap his arms around you before you whispered your request in his ear

“Belphie, can I ride you until I feel better?” 

Belphegor loves when you ride him; he doesn’t have to do any work! He’s totally on board 

He’s not doing anything more than he already is besides turning over onto his back though 

Don’t worry, he’ll still get the job done 

[starrywilliams]

END OF DESIRE

sub!abby x reader

summary: abby hates distractions when she’s reading, but this distraction is very welcome.

notes: short bc i don’t have the motivation to write anything long…!!! i used the iliad for this bc she has it and it physically hurts me to not write as lore accurate as i possibly can

warnings: not proof read !!!! cunnilingus, fingering, (both abby!receiving), yeah it’s just kinda filthy idk…

nsfw under the cut!

leant up against the headboard was a trembling girl, fingers tightening around the faded paperback with all her strength. “keep going abby.” you whispered, “if you stop, i stop, okay?” you reminded her of the agreement, nails pushing gently into the flesh of her thighs, a small whimper falling past her lips.

she took in a deep and shaky breath, pushing the glasses back up her nose. “helen has nothing but her b-“ she gasped softly as she felt your tongue drag over her clit, earning a harsh stare from below. “b-beauty. and the charm it casts on all men,” another whine escaped her throat as you left small, wet kisses around the edges of her pussy.

“without aphrodite she would be n-nothing.” she stumbled over her words, struggling to focus with your touch between her sensitive thighs. “you’re doing so well, don’t stop.” you smiled, the incoming cruelty begin to pervade your consonants. “and aphrodite plays the same role on olympus as on ear- fuck!”

she whimpered as your tongue pushed into her, hips bucking off the bed. you slapped her thigh, reminding her of what she was supposed to be doing. “shit, sorry,” she apologised breathlessly, restarting the sentence. “and aphrodite plays the same role on olympus as on earth.”

she swallowed harshly, fingers quickly swiping over her foggy glasses so she could keep reading. she sighed as she felt one of your fingers replace your tongue, pushing deep into her. she met your eyes, understanding that you weren’t gonna move until she continued.

“she gives hera, who wants to diverttt-“ the word faded into a whine as you curled your finger inside her, her head hitting the headboard with a light thud. “baby, you don’t want me to stop, do you?” your coquettish voice had her squeezing her eyes shut, head shaking. “n-no.” she sighed, looking back down to the blurry pages.

“divert zeus’s attention from the battle so poseidon,” abby whimpered breathily, your increasing pace making it impossible to concentrate. “ so poseidon can help the archaeans, the breast-“ a second finger sinking inside of her aching hole cutting off the word midway through. “keep going.” your stern voice left no other option for the desperate girl.

“-band, pierced and alluring, with every kind of enchantment woven through it.” abby breathed in heavily, legs trembling over your shoulders. your fingers kept up their unforgiving pace, stretching her out in the best way possible. with each thrust inside her, she could feel her high getting tugged closer and closer - whines slipping off her tongue endlessly. but she was supposed to be reading.

“fuck, w-why did you stop?” she said, voice hoarse and desperate. between your vexed eyes, glaring up at her, and the disbelief lining your slight grin, it didn’t take long for her to piece together your reasoning. “i’ll keep reading, just-just don’t stop, please?” she rambled, slightly high-pitched in her frantic desire, pulling the book back up before her face.

“there is the heat of love,” feeling kind, you’d started again, the sound of her struggling to get out her words coherently far better than anything else. “the pulsing rush of longing,” you could feel the need rushing all over your fingers, she was fucking soaking.

“the lover’s whisperrr-“ abby whined, feeling your lips attach to her aching clit, tongue swiping over the swollen bud. “irresistible.” she stuttered, all attention drawn to the stimulation that threatened to envelop her entire body soon. but she knew better now, she had to keep going.

“madness to make,” her thighs were shivering around your head, pussy pulsing around your fingers, while a spare hand laced itself into your hair - keeping you as close as she possibly could. “the sanest man go mad- fuckfuckfuck,”

her hips were grinding against your face, incomprehensible noises spilling out of her throat as you continued to fuck her. “go on baby, you can do it.” you mumbled against her clit, feeling her tighten around your fingers within seconds.

“ohmygodthankyouthankyou-“ her barely coherent words slipped aimlessly out of her mouth as she gushed all over your fingers. you kept going, replacing your fingers with your tongue, tasting her desperately. when you tried to return to her clit, you were hastily pulled away, the sensitive girl shaking her head as her thighs snapped back together.

“you wanna keep reading? i can always get the-“ you started, stopping at the notice of her eyes - renewed with a fresh desire. “oh, okay.” you laughed softly, realising it was your turn now.

[buckyshoneybunny]

Beautiful

 Bucky Barnes + Curvy!Female!Reader 

Summary- Bucky proves to you that you are beautiful. 

W.C.- 2623 

Warnings- Fluff, tiny bit of angst(?), smut, 18+ Mdni! Oral (female), fingering, P in V sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that) 

A/N- First time writing smut, hope you like it. This got a little personal 😬 but to all my fellow curvy + plus size girls you are beautiful 😘. I’m thinking of writing a series, with either Alpha, roommate, neighbor, or biker Bucky, I can’t pick. Any suggestions or ideas, I will gladly listen. Also, thank you so much for all the love on my first story!! Please don’t post or steal my work, feedback is welcome. Hope you enjoy!  

Masterlist

You took another deep, shaky breath as you studied your reflection for the hundredth time in the last five minutes. Tonight was the big night; you and Bucky were going to be taking the next step in your relationship. After many dates and late-night talks, you were finally ready to take the next step. Bucky, the ever so perfect guy he is, was patient with you, assured you that he was perfectly fine waiting until you were ready. 

You and Bucky were making out on your couch, you straddling his lap, when you pulled away with a gasp. Bucky starts kissing down your neck, as his hands start to slide up your shirt you freeze.  

Having noticed this, he immediately stops and pull back to look at you. “You okay, peach?” You look away. 

He gently cups your face, his cold, metal hand soothing your burning cheeks. “Talk to me Babygirl, what’s wrong?”  

You bite your lip. “I don’t think I’m ready yet,” you whisper. “I know I should have said something sooner instead of waiting until we’re both worked up but I-” 

“Peach, breathe,” be cuts off your nervous ramble. He rearranges you both so that you’re not positioned over his bulge. “It’s okay, if you aren’t ready then we wait, okay?” He says softly. 

You glance down at his lap feeling guilty. “But what about-” 

“No, don’t worry about that. It’ll go away shortly. How about we cuddle and watch our show? I’m dying to see what happened to Angela,” he suggests. 

You nod after a moment and hug him. “Thank you, Bucky,” you mumble into his neck.  

“Anything for you, peach” 

It wasn’t because you were a virgin or wanted to do things the ‘proper’ way, although you never told Bucky why, he guessed it was because of how insecure you are of your weight. Okay, yes, you were a little curvy, yes multiple guys had laughed at you when you tried to get their attention or looked at you in disgust whenever you tried to wear something that showed a little skin. 

Yes, you were insecure about your weight, but that wasn’t the reason you wanted to wait. Bucky had made sure you knew he loved your curves, no matter how hard you tried to hide them. You often chose pants over shorts and never wore tank tops, but it wasn’t because of your weight- the team made sure you knew they loved you for you, you felt comfortable around them- no, it was because of your skin. 

See, you weren’t one of those girls who had smooth, shiny skin, and that’s why you never showed off anything more than your arms. You had cellulite, bumps everywhere, and pimples in places you wished you didn’t. Not one spot on your body was smooth or clear, it didn’t matter where you shaved or moisturized, every time you slide your hands up your arms or down your legs it was bumpy. You tried everything under the sun but nothing helped, only few things made it a little better, you couldn’t even use your favorite scented lotions that often because it only made them worse. The tan on your skin helped hide it, but it was still there. 

A ding from your phone pulled you back to the present, you picked it up and noticed Bucky had texted you. 

💖My love- Hey, peach! I’m really excited for tonight, and since tonight is a very special night, I got you a little something (with the help of Nat of course), check your closet 😉.  

You walk into your closet to see a long, white, plastic bag hung up with your other dresses. When you unzip it, you can’t help but gasp.  The dress is a long, V-neck red satin dress with double slits. Phone in hand, you text him back. 

You-This is gorgeous Buck, but I don’t know if it’ll look right on me. 

💖My love-I know it’s way out of your comfort zone but believe me, you’ll be the sexiest woman to have ever existed, you already are but you’ll look even more gorgeous. You don’t have to wear it but I hope you do, see you soon, peach 😘. 

Trusting Bucky, you decide to wear it. You put on some plum scented lotion, damn your skin- at least it’ll be soft-, and put the dress on. It fits perfectly, your tan hides your skins secrets and the dress hugs your curves, for once you actually feel sexy. You take your hair out of the French braids and spray on some watermelon scented perfume. Right as you finish putting on your heels, there’s a knock at the door. You grab your clutch and look at yourself in the mirror one last time. Taking a deep breath you open the door. 

Bucky’s eyes widen as he takes you in, you do the same when you see him. He’s in a perfectly fitting suit that shows off his defined muscles, it’s cotton and black, he has a white button up under the jacket with a red tie.  

“How do I look?’ You ask nervously. When he doesn’t answer you start to overthink.  

“God damn,” he mumbles under his breath. His eyes sweep over your body again. “I don’t think I have ever wanted your thighs wrapped around my head more than I do now,” he says distractedly, staring at your thighs.  

“Bucky!” You gasp and playfully smack his chest. He grins, grabbing your wrists, he puts them around his neck as his hands settle on your waist.  

He chuckles. “Seriously though, you look absolutely gorgeous.” He kisses you then slides over to kiss your neck; he breathes in deeply and groans. “Mmm. You smell delicious,” he mumbles against your skin. He slides his hands up your sides.  

“Cut it out, we’re gonna be late,” you giggle and move before his hands can reach the bare skin of your arms, avoiding his touch. He notices.  

“Alright, alright, come on, peach.” He grins and leads you to the elevator, his hand in yours.  

As the elevator closes, he asks, “When the hell did you get that tan?” 

“When everyone was gone on that one mission.” 

“Damn, I missed this gorgeous body half naked in the sun?” He playfully pouts.   

You snort and shake your head. 

Once you both get to the restaurant, the hostess takes you to your table. It’s the fancy Italian restaurant that takes months in advance to get a reservation.  

As the waiter leaves with your orders you ask, “How did you get a table here? It takes months in advance.” 

“Tony called in a few favors,” he grins. “I want tonight to be special,” he adds softly. His hand covers yours on the table. You smile at him and interlace your fingers together. 

“How come you won’t let me touch you?” He blurts out.  

You give him a confused look, “What do you mean? You’re touching me right now.” 

“No, I mean, you won’t let me touch your bare skin. At first, I thought maybe you had scars or something, that maybe that’s way you never wear shorts. But seeing you tonight, in that dress, I can’t fathom why you would hide your body.” He pauses for a moment. “Is it because of me?” He whispers, you can see the vulnerability in his eyes. 

You quickly cup his face, “God no Bucky” You take a deep breath. “It’s just...” you trail off, unsure of how to put it. 

“What, peach? Please, tell me. I understand you wanting to wait for this long, I respect that, but every time we kissed or got a little handsy I could see that you wanted to keep going but you always stopped.” 

You sigh. “Part of it is my weight-” he goes to cut you off but you keep going. “But you’ve helped me feel more confident in my weight, but the insecurities are still there. The main reason is my skin...” 

“Your skin?” He deadpans. 

“The bumps everywhere, cellulite, and pimples everywhere Bucky. I don’t have that smooth clear skin like Wanda or Nat. That’s what I’m afraid of, that you’ll see the marks, feel the bumps on my legs, stomach, hell even my ass. That you’ll see the pimples in places that shouldn’t have any and you’ll break up with me or be disgusted,” you rant.  

“Okay, Y/N, deep breath. First of all, if I ever look at you in disgust, HYDRA must’ve taken over me. I love you and a few bumps and pimples won’t change that.” He holds your hands in his.  

“It’s more than just a few Bucky.” He narrows his eyes as he studies you. The waiter brings your food, Bucky starts to shovel the food into his mouth.  

“Eat,” he says around a mouthful of garlic bread. “I need to get you home to prove to you how beautiful you are.” 

Once you both are done, he pays and all but drags you out to the car. He pushes you up against the side of the car, smashing his lips to yours.  

“If you’ll let me, I want to show you how much I love you and this body.” He says breathlessly. “Please,” he adds, almost whining. You nod.  

On the drive back, you get a burst of confidence. You glance over at Bucky, he’s tense, barely maintaining the speed limit, desperate to get home. You look down and see a very large, very noticeable bulge. Fuck he looks huge. 

You reach over and place your hand on his thigh, slowly sliding it up. Bucky glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Peach,” he warns. You cup his bulge and he inhales sharply. You trace your finger over him, teasing. You cup him again and squeeze, right as he stops for a red light. He groans and bucks his hip up into your hand, his reaction sending a shoot of arousal through you. 

Once you finally reach the tower, he drags you to his room, once inside he shoves you against the door and devours you mouth with his. He spins you around and grabs the zipper of the dress.  

“You sure you’re ready, peach?” You nod. “I need words baby,” he whispers against your neck. 

“Yes Bucky, I’m ready.” He, painfully slow, pulls the zipper down. The dress pools at your feet, he turns you back around. 

His knees almost buckle. You’re standing there in nothing but a baby pink lingerie set and black heels. “Fuck peach,” he moans. He drops to his knees and kisses your stomach. “These curves” he grips your hips, “This ass,” his hands move to squeeze your ass, bordering painful. “This body, baby, I’m never letting you keep it from me again.” His kisses his way down your stomach. “You many have bumps and pimples, and cellulite, but that just add to the uniqueness of the gorgeous body. Y/N, baby, you are perfect, so fucking sexy, just looking at you I could cum in my pants.” He throws your right leg over his shoulder.  

“Bucky,” you whimper. He noses your panty covered clit, inhaling deeply. 

“Fuck, you smell so good.” He pauses, “Do you have plum scented lotion on?” 

“Yeah...” You answer hesitantly. 

He shoves his nose in the crease of your thigh. “Fuck, I didn’t know they made that,” he groans.  

“You like it?” You giggle. 

“I fucking love it, peach.” He licks your cloth covered core, making you moan. He pulls your panties to the side and growls. “This has got to be the prettiest pussy I have ever seen Babygirl.” That’s the only warning you get before he’s eating you out like a starved man.  

He swirls his tongue around your clit before sucking it into his mouth. He brings his metal hand up and slowly inserts his pointer finger. You buck against his face, you lace your fingers through his hair, him being the only thing keeping you upright.  

“Fuck you taste so good, so fucking tight,” he moans into your pussy, sending vibrations through you. He slowly adds a second finger, then a third. Curling them to hit that spongy spot, making you see stars.  

“I-I’m close... Please don’t stop Bucky,” you moan.  

“Wouldn’t dream on it Babygirl, cum for me.” 

You go limp against the door as you cum, gripping his hair tighter, almost to the point of painful, but it only makes him harder. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, helping you ride out your high. Once you come down, he pulls away and stands up. You yank him down by his tie, crashing your lips to his, moaning at your taste on his tongue.  

“How ya feeling, peach?” He whispers against your lips. 

“I want you inside me, now,” you answer. 

He chuckles, “Yes ma’am.” He quickly sheds the rest of your clothes and shoves you on his bed, not before smothering your chest in open mouthed kisses though.  You lean up on your elbows to watch him undress, gasping as his cock springs free from his boxers.  

“Don’t worry, it’ll fit,” he winks and joins you on the bed. Siting on his haunches, he wraps your legs around his waist and shoves his knees under your thighs. He rubs the head of his cock through your folds, teasing you.  

“Bucky please,” you whine. 

“I like the sound of you begging,” his voice deep and rough. In one smooth motion he enters you. You gasp and he moans once he’s fully sheathed inside you. 

“Fuck you’re so big,” you moan and dig your nails into his back. He stays still, letting you adjust. When you buck your hips up to let him know you're ready, he just groans and buries his face in your neck. 

“Fuck, give me a minute,” he mumbles, already pussy drunk.  

You giggle and card your fingers through his hair. After a second, he pulls almost all the way out and sets a punishing pace.  

“God damn you’re tight, almost made me cum like a horny teenager.” You moan at his words. With atilt of his hips, the tip of his cock pounds into your g-spot.  

“James!” You moan, nails dragging down his back.  

He shivers. “Fuck, say my name again.” 

“James harder! I’m gonna cum, James, please let me cum.” You whine in his ear.  

He groans and fucks you harder. “Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock like a good girl.” 

Your thighs squeeze his hips. Back arching, head thrown back, nails digging into his sides you cum, squirting all over his cock.  

“Holy shit,” he moans as he watches you. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, just barely hold his off. His thrusts grow sloppy. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby, where do you want it?”  

You lock your ankles on his lower back, your hands grip his ass, nails digging into the plump flesh. “Inside, please, James, I want your cum in me” 

“Fuck! Y/N!” He roars as he cums. He buries himself as deep as he can as ropes of cum shoot into you. He collapses onto of you, panting. You rub his back and scratch at his scalp as you both catch your breath; he places open mouthed kisses on your neck. He sucks a hickey on your neck, you shiver.  

“Believe me now when is say you’re gorgeous?” He picks his head up to look at you. 

You lean your forehead against his, “I don’t know, I think I might need some more convincing.” He grins, already getting hard again thanks to the serum.  

“My pleasure.” It was going to be a looong night. 

Needless to say, you were much more confident in your looks after that. 

[fire-lizard-ro]

Dragon Dan Heng + Oviposition

Warning: oviposition, non-human anatomy things, oral, rut cycles, feral behavior, biting, belly bulge, breeding, copious amounts of cum, cumplay????, plugging??? tf do I call it-, author rambling again with little coherency, top character

GN reader I think.

NSFW under the cut:

He- Oml we're going with the combo of one cock + oviposition + internal sheath thing + ribbed dick.

Oml so if we go the egging route... God he's whining as the eggs make their way into his cock from whatever internal pouch he has. Moaning like a pornstar and grinding into your hole as they slide through his cock and stretch out his dick's slit to make themselves at home inside you with a spurt of precum. There's LOTS of that, making your insides already messy before he even cums. The size of the egg has your belly feeling bloated already. But by the time he's done, your tummy has been rounded out like you're already months pregnant and then he's emptying his cum inside of you on top of that to fertilize the eggs. When he's filling you with his eggs, his teeth are likely latched into your shoulder. He really didn't mean to he's just so far gone that he did it without thinking about it. :(( He just wanted to lay claim on you in more way than one with that rut brain of his. :(( Secretly but not so secretly because of how he looks at it later likes the marks on you.

You can feel free to add this into your fantasy or not, but personally- Sometimes I think about how his internal egg pouch where he keeps the eggs (grows them??? tf-) ends up bloated by the time his rut comes around. Sorta makes sense because how else would big eggs fit in his body to put into you? Like I imagine he has a flat belly until getting close to his rut and suddenly his lower belly is swelling with eggs that he just has to put in you once it's time. Please won't you let him breed you? :((

Sometimes this idea shows up in my fantasies and sometimes it doesn't. As most things go with dragon Dan Heng in my head.

Also random thing about his large pecker dick: I think it might have a thinner tip. Like... it's mostly the same size all the way down with only the slightest of tapering, but then right at the tip it tapers a lot. Like not even an inch before the tip it does that. Also I still like the idea of it being ribbed. :D

Also oml there's something obscene about the way the eggs also stretch out not only his cock but the opening of his sheath oifjsoegi- Once again pushing the internal sheath agenda.

I think that as long as he doesn't fertilize them, they won't grow or anything. So you'll just lay them later on. Always very sweet with you whether you're laying unfertilized eggs or birthing the eggs that will eventually hatch. Will soothingly rub your belly and hold your hand. Might reach in to help coax the eggs out. If they aren't fertilized, it means he doesn't have to be as careful with them and just uses his claws to gently pull them out fjsije- This makes me think that he probably takes them out after his rut is over because he'd wanna keep them in to pacify (god there was another word I was gonna use-) his Need to Breed TM.

But ye when he's done filling you with his eggs and cum, he's watching the way his cum spills out of your thoroughly bred hole and will gather it back up to finger it back in. Probably cups his hand on your hole to keep it in before putting a plug in you to keep all that thick cum in you. Slides his fingers in your mouth to have you clean them off but then licks his tongue into your mouth because he wants to taste the mixture of his and your cum in your mouth.

Talked about aftercare last time, but now I'll add a lil more and say that with rut it's not just fucking. His dragon rut brain tells him to take care of you and protect you, his mate. So he's also making sure you're drinking water, fed, and warm. Will feed you by hand and help you drink your water. If you're into it, maybe he even puts the water into his own mouth to give to you. Possibly because you're too fucked out to even drink it when he puts the cup or waterbottle to your lips. Probably does a fucking perimeter check of the room because his rut brain demands he makes sure it's safe before he snuggles up with you and you have an armful of purring dragon to help you fall asleep.

Wrote this and then did not read through it so there maybe typos and things that don't make sense whoops.

Will check it later.

[bones4thecats]

Hi I see you’re request are open can I ask of transformers animated Optimus x female bot Vaggie reader , she use to be an elite guard but after she spare the life of an decepticon she was punish by her superior (sentinel spark mate) by cutting her optic and taking away her position

TFA! Optimus Prime w/ Vaggie-Bot! S/O

Character: Optimus Prime (Transformers Animated) Requester: 🩰Anon A/N: I'm gonna call you 🩰Anon, unless you're one of my other Anons. Which if you are please tell me and I can change it! Anyways, I hope you liked this! Also, there is no mention of the Lute-ified Cybertronian being Sentinel's sparkmate, but if you want her to be, you can imagine it. ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Mentions of body mutilation, attempted murder, death, murder and trauma ⚠️

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Optimus Prime ══════════════════════════╝

⚔️ Graduating alongside your old friend, Napier, you began to serve your Captain, Supersonic. Who, despite the fact he had a large processor, was a very good leader when it came to any kind of military issue

⚔️ Now, many cycles after your first day alongside the two Elite Guard members, you were now working with a space-bridge repair crew lead by your sparkmate, Optimus Prime, you were happily watching over Sari while her father worked

"Hey Y/N!" The young girl yelled from the ground.

"What's up, Sari?"

"Why do you have that patch on your eye?"

⚔️ Your one good optic widened as you reached up and felt the metal patch covering your opposite optic. The straight-edged black metal with a rose-red x on it making your digits repulse slightly

"It's a long story, you really don't wanna know." You said nervously.

"No! No! No! I've wanted to know as well!" Bumblebee said, standing up from behind the human child.

"Know what?" Bulkhead asked as he walked in.

"What happened to Y/N's optic."

"Oh yeah! Me three!"

"Now, now, you guys. If Y/N doesn't feel comfortable telling the story, they shouldn't have too." Optimus said as he laid a servo on your shoulder.

"I concur." Prowl said.

⚔️ Sari, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead all awed as you smiled gently and laid your servo on Optimus', assuring him that it was fine for them to ask you since they were far more innocent with the cost of serving underneath Ex-Captain Supersonic

⚔️ Motioning for them all to sit down, even having Ratchet join in right before you began the tale, much to his fake chagrin. You felt Sari finally situate her blanket around herself and lean into the large pillow she held to look at you and listen

"It all started during one of our patrols to check for any rogue Decepticons..."

»–•–«

⚔️ Walking side-by-side Napier, you smiled and nodded along with her rambles. She was speaking about how troublesome some of your previous classmates at the Autobot Academy were since they were joining your regiment under Supersonic

"Lieutenants Y/N and Napier."

⚔️ Turning around, you saw one of your Captain's mechs bowing lightly before standing and telling you that the titular mech wanted you and her to speak with him in his office

⚔️ Nodding along with his words like you did with Napier, the three of you walked down many halls towards the golden-office, stopping only until Supersonic allowed the door to be opened

⚔️ Sitting down with his pedes up on his desk as he sharpened his axe-like weapon, you bowed alongside your friend

"Captain Supersonic."

"Ah, just the two I wanted to see! We have an incident that needs immediate care."

"What seems to be this 'incident'?" Napier asked.

"There are some Decepticon signals being caught on this planet- uh... what was the planet's name again?" He asked the Bot who had escorted you both there.

"Bov 05UC, sir."

"Yeah! Bov 05UC. You two need to go there and arrest them, bring them back, and you'll be on my good side even more! How does that sound?" He said, leaning back to continue sharpening his weapon.

⚔️ Staring at Napier, you nodded before announcing your agreement to the departure

"Alright! You are both needed in the ship in... a megacycle. You might wanna get packin'."

"Understood, sir." Napier said.

"Have a good rest of your cycle, sir."

"Yeah, yeah. Get out."

»–•–«

"Wow! He sounds like a big scrap-head!" Bulkhead said.

"Well, you're not wrong. Captain Supersonic wasn't the most polite Cybertronian back home. I remember one time he literally came to me injured during the war and expected me to treat him like some prince! He was beyond arrogant with his title." Ratchet admitted.

"Anyways, Y/N, do continue," said Prowl.

"Yes, well, when we arrived on the planet, that was when the incident occurred."

»–•–«

⚔️ The sound of swords clashing was all you could hear besides the screams of the inhabitants of Bov 05UC running away from the fighting

"Y/N, that 'Cons getting away!" Napier yelled, pointing her sword at a runaway Decepticon.

"I got 'em!" You yelled back, chasing after the enemy.

⚔️ Landing from the jump before the alleyway, you watched the short Decepticon turn around. It wasn't a grown Cybertronian, it was a young one... a sparkling...

⚔️ Sorrow filled you as you lowered your spear from attack mode from seeing their fearful optics

⚔️ Stepping towards him, you hushed him in an effort to keep him safe and quiet so that Napier or another guard couldn't hear you sparing his life

"Go. Run now!" You whispered as the little one ran off.

⚔️ Hearing steps behind you, you were shocked to see both Napier and Captain Supersonic there. Napier then grabbed your arm, pulling you towards her, before striking you down with her own sword

⚔️ You screamed in pain as she stabbed your fallen optic into the ground

"Decepticon-sympathizing filth like you has no place in the Elite Guard." She said, ripping your title and honor away from you in a single action.

⚔️ As the two walked away, you struggled to walk off. Only to be found by a random Cybertronian, one you didn't recognize. They kneeled before you with a shock-filled expression before covering your energon-bleeding wound with a large cloth from their carry-on compartment

»–•–«

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! So your friend, who you grew up with just- tore your optic out and took your position away from you like it was nothing! Who does she think she is?!" Sari yelled.

⚔️ Optimus looked at you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side as you smiled and patted Sari's little head with your digit

"It's fine now, Sari. I have a great life now. I have a real family. You guys care about one another like nobody ever did back in the Elite Guard. Well, at least the subgroup that Supersonic once led."

"You keep talking about him in past tense, did he like retire or something?" Bumblebee asked.

"Something of the sort..." You nervously answered.

⚔️ Ratchet stood up after you drifted off topic, finishing your answer honestly himself

"He went offline during another battle against Decepticons. Though, those ones were forced to be obedient against their will. Napier, by what I remember, was sent to prison for attempting to kill her fellow soldiers during a state of rage-driven madness."

⚔️ Sari's eyes widened as she looked back at you and Optimus

"You also said that you have a real family now... do you consider us family?" Bulkhead asked.

"Of course! Prowl's the oddball, Ratchet's the grumpy old-mech, Bee and Bulk are the younger siblings, Sari and Isaac are basically like the friends of the unit-"

"And you and Optimus are like the parents!"

"Huh?!" "What?!"

"Too much?"

"Just a tad..."

[dudumax4ever]

Max Verstappen X fem reader

authors note : first time writing a fanfic so please be kind 😭 i’m very sorry if this is shit

warnings : curse words (duh), suggestive, fluff

CUDDLES MV33

you and max lie on a couch watching some random movie because you have nothing better to do. The Canadian grand prix was 2 days ago so max was pretty tired and jet lagged so he was almost ready to go to bed. You were feeling a sudden wave of sleepiness so you stood up and marched to your bedroom to go get ready to sleep as you left , however, max got upset and started whining “ where are you going y/n?” “I missed you so much” You started to explain how you were tired and ready to sleep when max suddenly stood , walked to you and gave a soft kiss on your cheek. You giggled and asked him “where did that come from?” “I just missed my beautiful girlfriend while i was away for a week, i though i could spend some time with her”

“aww baby.., i missed you too but we should get some sleep, specially you, you were complaining about a sore back and jet lag” you tried reasoning with him to sleep before you both ended up sleeping on the couch.

Max listened to you intently getting lost in your eyes, a warm smile spread on his face. he cuts your rambling off by suddenly picking you up and walking you to your bed room. He tumbles you onto your bed and gets in with you, he gets closer hugging you in a warm embrace. “ Hold on, let me get changed into my pjs max” you announce to him. He gives you a sarcastic annoyed look and he vocalises this by muttering under his breath “ what lengths a man has to go through for some cuddles”

None the less, Max patiently waits for you to emerge from the bathroom,but he doesn’t have to wait long because, just 2 minutes later you pop back into the room wearing a small shirt with a matching pair of shorts. “words can’t describe how beautiful you look right now y/n” “if i could i would fuck you stupid right here”

“we wouldn’t want that, would we?” you chuckle while getting into your bed.Max whines as little on why he should smash you but you shut him off by hugging him tight and falling asleep in his arms a few minutes later.

[xoxo-honeyy]

comforting jinx hc's

authors note: jinx is the absolute loml and i need to comfort her so bad, she just needs a really good hug and it would solve all her problems :(

wc: 758

warnings: run-on sentecnes, over use of commas, not proofread, mentions of sex under cut, tit-sucking (mentioned once), the voices in jinx's head, silco (proud hater)

ok ok, so we all know that jinx is kinda (very) crazy, buttt that doesn't mean she doesn't deserve some love! and who better to turn to than you, her wonderful, amazing, doting girlfriend.

starting off strong, jinx looooves it when you play with her hair, there's something so soothing and domestic about it that immediately relaxes her. especially when you unravel her braids and massage her scalp, she would be putty in your hands.

going off of that she would absolutely love cuddling and/or cuddlefucking, like cuddling in itself is so intimate and caring but adding fucking to it? she would melt into you on the spot. like just imagine the two of you laying down, chests pressed together and hips moving in sync, quiet moans mixing together and bouncing off the walls, the smell of sex filling up the room, and the feeling of your slick cunts moving together to please each other. yeah, jinx would be in heaven.

after the two of you had your little session, jinx would immediately fall asleep. no matter if you hadn't cleaned her up yet or your bodies were stuck together, poor baby would be out like a light.

speaking of lights, jinx would totally sleep with a night light. no matter how stupid or childish other people thought it was, the small light in the corner of the room made the monsters and voices go away. and it wouldn’t bother you at all, knowing how bad her nightmares could be, the light was another source of comfort for her to turn to, especially if you weren't there.

but let's just say that jinx came back from a really bad mission, nothing went her way, sevika is giving her shit, and her head feels like it's about to explode. the first thing she does when she gets back is go to your shared room and seek you out. she would immediately fly into your arms and shove her head into the warm crook of your neck. breathing in your comforting scent. you would cradle the back of her head to ground her and be ready to listen when she's ready to ramble.

on nights she wasn't feeling well or just needed to be held, jinx would absolutely be the little spoon. feeling safe with her back pressed against your chest and your arms wrapped around her waist. your loving embrace made her feel safe, nothing bad could get to her as long as she was safe in your arms.

one tiny thing that bothered me about the show is how jinx's nails were chipped, (i know this was symbolism but it pained hurt my soul every time her nails were on screen, still love her tho) so one activity the two of you like to do together is nail painting! she would especially love it if you massaged or played with her hands, one of my headcanons is that she picks at the skin around her nails/fingers so rubbing a soothing lotion on her hands would be ideal for her, it would be even better if it was a lotion that you used often.

jinx is a boob girl !! i will die on this hill (did you see that top she was wearing, she was def projecting) one of her favorite activities would be to bury her head into your plush chest, no matter how big or small jinx would be an absolute feen for your tits. always finding an excuse to mark them up or even suck on your nipples (oral fixation much?)

but, there were some nights that she was absolutely broken. her visions were getting to her and nothing was going right. on these nights jinx needed you to pull her back from the edge of insanity:

"are you, real?" jinx's voice cracked as she asked the question.

tears formed in your eyes, she looked so heartbroken and sad. her eyes were boring into yours, almost as if she looked away, you would disappear into thin air.

you gently cupped her face with your hands and ran your thumb under her eyes to get rid of any remaining tears.

"yes, i'm real." you affirmed. "and i'm not going anywhere."

she sighed a breath of relief and wound her arms tightly around your midsection while burying her face in the junction of your neck. you gingerly laid her on the bed and rocked her side to side in a comforting manner. jinx started to relax as the rocking motions lulled her to sleep.

[arrowhawkart]

Alright what's up everyone! If you do not follow my personal blog fair warning: I have become very suddenly obsessed with Dragon Age and have been playing thru the games for the first time ever- so expect the next chunk of art from me to be very Dragon Age-centric

So Anyways here's Cedric Hawke, the fun little guy I made for my DA2 playthrough and became incredibly attached to much faster than I expected.

More incoherent rambles and thoughts on my Hawke under the cut- it's very stream of consciousness under there and also very very long you've been warned

[ID in Alt Text]

Just like.... wow.... okay so I've now played through Inquisition and finished Trespasser and I've gotta say DA2 really took the cake for me, like by far my favorite of the 3. (Like please don't get me wrong it absolutely had it's issues I'm not saying it was a perfect game or that all the writing choices were amazing) But I just really enjoyed the smaller more personal scale of the conflicts in DA2, I liked that Hawke was even more Just Some Guy, and like yeah the Warden and the Inquisitor aren't like special chosen ones or anything, but they are both tasked with these gigantic world-saving country-spanning quests, and Hawke? Hawke is just a guy trying to do right by his family. Like he doesn't have any world saving mission. He is just trying to Get By and that really made this game hit home more for me than the other two.

I said I was gonna ramble about my Hawke and I just ended up rambling about DA2 itself... whoops. ANYWAYS- Cedric- My Boy Cedric- I recognize that a purple mage Hawke is the most common route people go and I am by no means unique or original, but this game series is very new to me, personally, and I'm having fun anyways. (From here on out I will be talking about my Custom Hawke and not like, Hawke the player character in general)

And gosh I'm such a sucker for complicated and messy family dynamics, and DA2 does that so well. Like the Hawke family is Fucked Up. Bethany gets killed by that ogre while they're fleeing Lothering when she tries to save their mom from said ogre, and Leandra immediately turns and blames Cedric for Bethany's death- and then later in Act 1, Carver, best baby brother Carver, also throws Bethany's death in his face while they're having their own stupid argument which started because Cedric was trying to cheer Carver up and boy did that fail dramatically.

Like Cedric is witty and charming and sarcastic and kind of an asshole sometimes, and comes of as incredibly over confident and cocksure and that's because he's very much been shoved into the role of 'okay you've gotta take care of everything and if you don't everything bad is Your Fault, and since you're in charge of taking care of everything, everything bad is automatically Your Fault No Matter What Anyways.' So he's gotta playact like he has everything all together and under control, because what the fuck is his family gonna do if he doesn't? And underneath all of that he's an incredibly stressed out guy, who does not feel like he can ever let on that he's stressed and making everything up as he goes and just hoping that things work out well.

And like he tries to do the right thing- by god does this man try. He brings Carver with him on the deep roads mission because he and Carver work well together! Carver wants to go! He loves his little brother, there is no one he would rather have by his side than his little brother! There is no one he trusts more than Carver to have his back! Carver and Cedric are incredibly close, (yes in the game's friendship/rivalry system Carver was locked in at full rivalry but that absolutely does not mean they weren't still very close and also friends). Like Carver is the one person who actually recognizes that the way Leandra projects all of her own issues onto them, but like mostly Cedric, is really shitty! He acknowledges that after apologizing for his part in the argument I mentioned above. And then of course Carver ends up getting the Blight during the deep roads mission, because nothing can every go right for them. Thankfully Cedric brought Anders along, so Carver is able to become a Grey Warden instead of DYING, but he has to leave, and Cedric doesn't even find out whether or not Carver survived his joining for months. And of course Leandra blames Cedric for this, she begged him not to bring Carver along with him, and he did anyways and now she's never going to see her youngest son again and it's all Cedric's fault. And that's how Act 1 ends and I just.... Auaghghghghhhh-

And then we've got Act 2, and like mid-way through Act 2 is probably the high point for Cedric. Things peak for him here and then it's all one big snowball downhill from there. So like, Cedric romanced Fenris, because this man is addicted to difficulty, and of course was going to immediately be infatuated with the guy that makes hating mages half his personality. (I mean it wasn't immediate, it was more of a slow build, mutual-trust, to friendship(and yes once again Fenris was at full rivalry but I stand by what I said about the friendship rivalry system earlier), to lovers thing, especially considering three years pass between Acts 1 and 2) And yeah, Cedric doesn't hide the fact that he's very into Fenris, and Fenris definitely hasn't seemed opposed to this. So after Fenris kills Hadriana and then they have that fun little argument that ends with Fenris pinning Cedric to the wall and kissing him 😳- Cedric is like, riding the high of what was probably the first positive physical affection he's gotten since Carver let for the Grey Wardens three years ago. And then of course the following morning Fenris immediately breaks things off with Cedric, so what Cedric thought was going to be the start to a romantic relationship, just ends up being an ill-fated one night stand. And like! Cedric does not begrudge Fenris this! He completely understands Fenris's reasons, he is not upset with Fenris at all! He is still just completely crushed though. So yeah, things peaked for Cedric for like one very short night and then start speeding downhill. Because not long after that is when his mom is killed by a fucking serial killer. As if things weren't already fucked enough for Cedric, already having lost his twin younger siblings.

Also side note- I love the fact that DA2 is portrayed as Varric telling the story of Hawke's life to Cassandra, and that we know Varric is an unreliable narrator. Because like Leandra's last words to Hawke being that she's so proud of her strong boy- at least with how Cedric's relationship was with Leandra up to this point- felt so so out of character for Leandra, and I love the headcanon that that's Varric giving his bestie some closure narratively that he never actually got in reality. So like that's canon for Cedric. Because that was Leandra's decapitated head frankensteined onto another woman's body- and magicked into a reanimated corpse that absolutely did not seem like it had any conscious thought- like she was already dead before Cedric showed up. There were no final words. There was no nice narratively satisfying ending to that one. And I like it better that way tbh........

We're just gonna like skip over the whole qunari invasion subplot because I am. Not a fan of how that was handled. Writing wise. Like what the fuck was that. Like I have THOUGHTS about it but they're not gonna go on tumblr. Anyways. Moving on.

Champion of Kirkwall! Yay! Meredith knows he's an apostate mage and is just Waiting for any half-decent excuse to either bring him to the circle, make him tranquil, or kill him? Not yay! Cedric is absolutely good friends with Anders, and has been helping with the mage underground every chance he has. People in the city have been whispering about making him of all people Viscount and he has no idea how to feel about that, like he'd rather not, but who else is gonna do it? And who else would do it and actually give a shit about mages and elves and just like lower class people in general? Like this incredibly stressed out guy does not need more added to his plate, he really doesn't. But he's definitely thinking about it. I mean hey! It's not like he's got any family around to take care of at this point right? Why not just take that eldest daughter syndrome thing he's got going on and use it to fix the city?

The one bright spot for him here is that hey, at least he and Fenris get back together. That one's nice. They both deserve something positive and comforting after all the shit they've been through.

And then Meredith is trying to invoke the right of annulment and Anders blows up the fucking Chantry. And Cedric can't even blame him for it. After 6 or 7 years of painstakingly working to try to find peaceful ways to improve the lives of mages and getting blocked at every turn, with the knowledge that Meredith has been getting worse and worse and worse, and has been actively looking for any excuse to invoke the right of annulment and just kill every single mage in Kirkwall? And Grand Cleric Elthina has been absolutely no help, and has absolutely been subtly on Meredith's side the entire time. Like at a certain point, violence really does feel like the only option left. When you've been backed this far into a corner.

So obviously Cedric takes the side of the mages, doesn't kill Anders, is honestly like 'my dude, my buddy, my guy, my best pal(aside from Varric, and my boyfriend Fenris) why didn't you tell me? I would've helped you on purpose.' He's elated when Carver shows up during that final push to the Gallows, like the whole situation is absolutely shit, and it'd definitely be better if his beloved brother was no where near danger, but he's a Grey Warden now so that's not even an option anyways. So it's just nice to have him around even during such an intensely stressful moment. Honestly everything is so unbelievably fucked at this point that Cedric isn't even stressed anymore. Like things literally cannot get worse. He's kind of riding the high of things not being able to get worse. Or maybe that's just adrenaline. Who knows. Aveline and Sebastian both leave, Cedric is unbothered. Doesn't even try to convince Aveline to side with him later either, like he's never really gotten along with her, and he did not like how she treated Carver. Fenris and everyone else stick around, and that's what matters to Cedric, like all the people he was actually close friends with stick with him in this moment (Fenris, Varric, Isabella, Merrill, Anders, & Carver)

And then yeah, they save the mages, defeat Meredith, leave Kirkwall with the renegade mages. Everyone goes their separate ways due to one reason or another, except Fenris. At least Cedric does get to keep one positive close relationship around.

[wombywoo]

Sorry if you already answered this- but I am DYING to know more about Quinns prophetic visions. What does it mean that he puts himself in ‘near-death’ situations to have one? Could you give an example? Also do they last long/ put him in a trance or is it quick. If they last long I could imagine the first time it happened around Vincent him being totally freaked out and trying to make sure he was ok (maybe he was worried Quinn was having a stroke/seizure)

sorry it's taken me so long to respond I'm sick today 😩😭

I do have a very long answer and it's under the cut! (tw for mentions of self-harm, injury, drugs, domestic violence, non con) this is so heavy I'm sorry please read at your own discretion.

So--the first time Quinn's visions appeared was in the aftermath of the bus accident that nearly took his life. He'd been impaled in the shoulder with a metal pole, lost a lot of blood, and ended up coding when he got to the hospital. While in recovery, he experienced an intense seizure-like episode, which the hospital staff assumed was a side effect of his fever spiking dangerously high. But no--turns out his 'vision' and the delirious ramblings he tried to warn everyone about came true a week later (it was a major catastrophic event; I will touch on this later at some point..)

Hereafter, a series of injuries and illnesses in his preteen years enabled him to grasp the basics: if he gets personally close to death, a vision is granted (and it's usually a portent of something supernatural and horrible).

There were several....attempts to test the limits of this, as well as a dangerous theory: did he only experience the visions because the events he'd seen were meant to happen, or did the events happen because he saw them?

Interesting, interesting....

When Quinn experiences a vision, the effects can vary. Usually, he does exhibit something similar to a seizure--there's violent thrashing, sometimes screaming, or other times he drops to the floor, seemingly paralyzed. An outsider might assume he was dead if they didn't know better.

The length of an episode also varies: they can be as little as a couple of seconds to up to thirty minutes (at least that's the longest he's had so far)

Another thing to note is--his visions always take place from the point of view of someone else. Whatever event he's witnessing is shown to him from behind the eyes of a person present at the scene. As such, if the POV dies, Quinn reacts accordingly (thrashing, screaming, etc)

He also has other clairvoyant qualities, in that he appears to have an uncanny sense of luck in the field. What makes vampires so notorious to combat is their enhanced speed (when aiming, it's less a matter of where they're standing now as opposed to where they will be in a flash of a second) Quinn has a keen ability to prejudge where the target will be, and is almost always successful in taking an accurate shot.

After certain...events in his teen years--Quinn swore to put his prophecies behind him, and for a long time, he did his best to suppress them. It was only serving in the military and thus being thrown into danger regularly that forced him to confront the benefits of his 'gift' once more. A harrowing field injury left him a vision on the eve of a big mission: one that would fail from the things he saw. Quinn attempted to relay this 'newly discovered intel' to a higher-up, but it was ignored, and the subsequent failure played out just as he'd seen it.

Despite knowing very little about whether he'd ever be able to drastically change the future, if at all, Quinn took it upon himself to try to use the visions as a guide for future endeavors. With that came a sense of personal responsibility: if he had a chance to see a glimpse into a probable future, this could potentially save the lives of his squadmates. But he couldn't very well be exposing himself to danger regularly in order to induce a vision, could he. So he developed...other methods.

Drugs became his 'easiest' option, and that was still a huge gamble. A hit strong enough to run the risk of OD usually was enough to give him a vision. And acquiring them was simple enough--his ex bf Marc was a willing supplier. But using them in the field was not really a choice Quinn was comfortable with, especially when his CO found out and was ready to discharge him on the spot (they...worked something out)

His other options were more...creative, but usually required a partner. When his best mate Danny was first asked to drown him in the bathtub of the safe house they were holed up in, it was met with, ah...a lot of resistance. Quinn had attempted this on his own once, and yeah....that was nearly fatal. It took a lot of convincing, but eventually Quinn did persuade his friend to hold his head under the water long enough for him to stop thrashing, and then resuscitate him only to watch him writhe on the floor in apparent agony. Not at all recommended!!! good friends do not do this to their bros ❌ Danny was extremely traumatized and fucked up over the whole thing, and Quinn swore he'd never ask him to do it again (spoiler: he did)

The dangerous self-harm options just seemed to escalate though. It didn't help that Quinn's (psychotic) boyfriend was the biggest enabler of all. Marc was a violent lover, both physically and mentally. Yet Quinn didn't mind in the beginning; his mental state is not the greatest (can you tell??) so he often used Marc as an outlet to punish himself :'D There was an...incident with choking that went a little too far, and after witnessing Quinn's episode first-hand, Marc eventually figured out the basics as well. And as a result...well. Let's just say Marc appreciated hearing details of future events (for investments and whatnot) and was not at all inclined to entreat his boyfriend's safety above all else. This led to....various incidents of forced suffocation (most of which were not consensual) god this is really horrible, I'm sorry... They do break up, finally, but there's still a sense that Marc isn't done with him yet...

Eventually, Quinn does reach a healthier mindset with the help of his therapist and his commanding officer (and Fig!). At current, he hasn't had an episode since his last field assignment and injury, and hasn't induced one in over a year.

His developing relationship with Vincent comes with the eventual explanation of...all that, as well as a new catch-22--now that Quinn has someone he cares about more than anyone else, the 'personal responsibility' starts to stir up once more. Especially with a recently learned development--taking Vincent's venom-neutralizing pills is enough to induce a vision.

This can definitely complicate things....

And in the back of his mind, that notion still remains: is he the one causing these things to happen, by witnessing them in the first place??

Interesting, indeed....

So there you have it! It's not everything, and I'm still brainstorming a few of the details...but this is most of what I've thought up thus far~

Sorry I rambled when all you asked was a simple question :'D

[thebigbadbatswife]

Internal Conflict (Part 1 of 3)

Pairing - Batman x F!Hero!Reader Series - Under Your Skin Part 2 here | Part 3 here

Summary - While Batman is at war with himself, some members of the Batfamily start picking up on his odd behaviour.

Warnings - None that I can think of.

A/N - What's that? Is there some actual plot here? My, I think it is! 😂 I know, it's been quite a bit of time between updates again. Sorry about that, this (and the next couple of parts) took a while to outline first and then obviously life kept getting in the way. But it's here now! And the time between updates shouldn't be quite as long. Thank you for being patient with me. Anyway, enough rambling, enjoy! 💜

Taglist - At the end of the fic. Please message me if you would like to be added/removed.

Word Count - 2.5k

The wind ruffled his cape, making it blow out behind him. He was still on the rooftop, a frown on his face. You were already gone, having stormed off a few minutes ago. Your blood boiling, no doubt. Much like his was right now. The only thing he didn’t know was whether his anger was directed toward you or himself.

You had a talent for getting underneath his skin. In record time as well. It was something that he had quickly discovered not long after you had accepted the invitation to join the Justice League. Somehow, you were worse than Hal and Oliver combined. All week you had been pushing each other’s buttons and tonight you both had finally hit your boiling points. It was bound to happen at some point. In truth, he was a little surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. And while he was sure you had meant every last word you had shouted at him, he hadn’t.

He hadn’t thought about it. The filter between his brain and mouth failing as he snapped. He supposed he should count himself lucky that you could, mostly, see through his bullshit. If you didn’t he imagined that you would have quit long before now. Though, after tonight, there was now a very real chance that you would. And if you did, he was positive you would make sure it was known why you had walked away. He could already invision the line of people that would be ready to deck him for it.

With you long gone and the crisis in Star City now averted, Bruce left the rooftop. Grappling and gliding to where he had left the batwing.

The entire flight back to Gotham he replayed the argument over and over again. Analysing it. Like always.

“At first I thought it was because you wanted to make sure that I was cut out for this…”

That was true! When it came to flying solo, you were more than capable. It was one of the things about you that had caught his eye. Obviously, working with a team was far different. You had more than just yourself to worry about. He had to make sure you could do that.

“...now I think it’s because you want me to quit… For whatever reason you’ve decided I’m no longer good enough…”

That wasn’t true. He didn’t want you to quit. In the short time that you had been a member of the League, you had quickly become an invaluable member of the team. To say that it would be a shame to lose you was an understatement. Not that he was every going to say that aloud. Especially not after tonight. Chances were you wouldn’t even believe him so why waste his breath?

You had been right to call him out. If he had thought you incapable or not good enough, then you really wouldn’t have set foot on the Watchtower. But you were good enough. You were more than good enough. He knew that better than anyone. He had looked into you, put your name forward. Not that you knew or needed to know that, as far as he was concerned. And to say that he was nitpicking just to rile you up to have sex was ridiculous. Sex was just a byproduct of adrenaline caused by the arguments and being in such close quarters. It was a surprise that it hadn’t started far sooner.

It had become a vicious cycle. That he could admit to. And now it was one that had finally been broken by you. Not that he cared. He didn’t need to have sex with you. There were plenty of people out there that he could sleep with instead. Besides, you were teammates and relationships like that could get messy, fast. It was best that it was brought to an end before something happened that would jeopardise future missions. If you hadn’t done it tonight, then he certainly would have.

The sound of his boots on the metal platforms and stairs that made up this portion of the batcave, that hung over a dark abyss were loud and echoed off of the walls. The bats, high above him, squeaked in dismay, dropping from their perches to either fly deeper into the cavern system or leave it altogether.

He tugged his cowl off, setting it down onto the desk of the batcomputer as he took a seat, sighing deeply.

“Another fight with Mr Queen?” Alfred asked as he set a silver tray down, a cup, teapot and a plate of cookies on it, and poured him some tea.

Bruce grunted in response. All he wanted to do now was focus on the keyboard and screen in front of him, no longer wishing to think about what had happened tonight. There was still a few hours before dawn and he had a lot of case files to look into. He also really didn’t want to get into this with Alfred. It wasn’t any of his business.

“As talkative as ever, I see,” he muttered as he walked away to tend to other things. Alfred had decided a long time ago, since this whole vigilante business had started, that if Bruce wished to sulk over something then he could bloody well do it alone.

According to his phone, the sun had risen several hours ago. He had yet to even think about making his way up into the manor and toward his bedroom. His mind wouldn’t still, the gears just kept turning. Focusing on the argument, no matter what he did to try and steer his mind away. The anger in your features, that weren’t hidden by your mask, and your body, the venom that had dripped in each word, the clenching of your fist as you debated whether to try and deck him or not. In the end you had decided not to. Likely because he would have easily caught your hand had you tried. 

He shook his head. It shouldn’t be bothering him this much. And yet…

His thoughts were broken by the sound of boots marching toward him. He frowned, turning away from the disassembled equipment on the workbench to see who it was. Diana. Of course. She was angry, a storm dancing in her eyes and her fists clenched by her side. The only thing that he could think was that you had actually done it. You had quit and let her know that he was the reason you were walking away. Bruce swallowed thickly and composed himself, ready to be run through with a sword.

“And what did you say this time?” she demanded, stopping in front of him, crossing her arms against her chest.

“She quit?”

“Not yet, but I don’t doubt she’s thinking about it,” she replied. 

You hadn’t quit? He felt relieved, a weight he hadn’t been truly aware of lifting from him. He couldn’t dwell on that feeling for long, as Diana continued speaking.

“Now I’m not going to pretend like I know what’s going on between the two of you, but whatever it is I suggest you figure it out.”

“You’ve had this same conversation with her?” 

“I will be. I came to talk to you first since you’re the one continuously instigating these arguments.”

He grumbled in response. Instigator?” It made him sound like a damn child.

“I’m not apologising–”

Diana scoffed. “When have you ever apologised for anything. Just figure it out.”

It had been weeks since Bruce had last fought with you. Of course, he had barely said two words to you, outside of missions, because you never stuck around for too long. You were keeping your distance from him. Not that he could blame you.

He couldn’t lie. The distance, it bothered him. And it wasn’t because of the looks that he received every time you left a room he entered. Outside of all of this he lived in the public eye. He was used to dirty looks being thrown his way. Thing was he couldn’t put his finger on why it bothered him so much. It wasn’t affecting missions. You were civil and you fought alongside him like nothing had ever happened between the two of you.

Was it the result of your own conversation with Diana? Or had you decided on this shortly after Star City?

His own conversation with her had continued to lingered on his mind. It had made him wonder if it was possible to start over with you. It was clear to him now that no, that wasn’t possible. You wished to have nothing to do with him, outside of missions, and he would respect that. He told himself that things were better this way. Less complicated.

The sound of your footsteps passing by the laboratory broke Bruce’s thoughts, as well as his focus on dismantling Lex Luthor’s newest kryptonite weapon. Looking away from the weapon, he frowned. He could sworn that he was the only one left awake on the Watchtower.

The battle against Lex had been hard on all of them. The corrupted billionaire’s newest mech hitting harder and causing more destruction than any of the previous ones combined. Things certainly would have gone much smoother had Diana been with them, but the warrior goddess was off elsewhere. Busy dealing with gods and monsters and other things he would rather not think about. The battle had also served as a reminder that the production of his own mech, meant exactly for situations like that one, was taking far too long.

It also had him concerned. Super villains breaking out and working together, all of Lex’s newest tech, his own city being a little too quiet. He wasn’t one to overly rely on gut feelings, preferring physical evidence and facts, something that he could see, but he couldn’t shake it. Something big was headed their way and this was simply the start of it. They needed to be ready.

The kryptonite weapon attached to the mech meant that Clark had suffered the worst injuries out of everybody. As soon as Lex had been apprehended, he had been Bruce’s focus, making sure that he didn’t die. Lois would likely kill him if that happened and he wished to avoid that. It hadn’t stopped him from noticing you though. The way you were favouring your leg, the tear in your suit where blood was running from your thigh, making its way down your leg.

Bruce had been worried about your injury, like he would about anyone of his other teammates, of course. Years as a vigilante had taught him how bad a leg injury could be. He had wanted to see to it himself. With his training and degree, he would be the best option to, but Clark took priority and you refused to be in the same room with him.

Honestly, he was still worried. Before he could stop himself, he was already out of his seat. Making his way out of the laboratory and down the hallway. He was already halfway down the hallway when he heard one of the zeta tubes starting to fire up. He picked up his pace.

In his head, he had it all planned out. Like any concerned teammate, he was simply going to ask if you were okay and if you would like from him to take a look. Make sure that it wasn’t severe. That was it, but when he entered the room, he didn’t get a chance to even open his mouth before you were stopping him.

“I’m really not interested, Batman,” you told him, looking at him over your shoulder, your voice cold and gaze hard. You moved away from the console in front of you and stepping into the blinding light. Leaving him alone on the Watchtower.

In hindsight, he probably should have expected that.

As he headed back to the laboratory, he made a mental note to give Dinah some information she could send your way to help with your injury. You were close with her and it would be easier than trying to corner you.

Bruce worked well into the night after that. Or at least he tried to. His mind refused to focus on the task at hand. Instead it constantly drifted back to you. More specifically how it had felt to have you beneath him. The sweet noises spilling from your lips that sounded so much better than when you were arguing with him. It left him aching and missing those moments. Which he found ridiculous. The two of you hadn’t even been in a relationship. There wasn’t anything there to miss.

One thing was clear to him, he never should have dragged you into that storage room to begin with. He really didn’t know what he had been thinking. That time or any of the others. All it had done was make everything worse and that now there was no way in hell it could ever be fixed. Not that he could see anyway.

None of it mattered in the end. Things were better this way. Less complicated. Less chance of emotions getting in the way and less chance of missions going awry.

It was only after Diana had finally returned to the Watchtower and disturbed him, that he finally realised the time. It was well into the next morning and, no matter how much he would prefer to stay here and continue working, Bruce Wayne had places to be. Huffing, he locked up the now disassembled weapon and left the laboratory and began to head back to his cave.

Dick flipped through the air and landed on the mat. He had come back to Gotham for a visit because he missed Alfred’s cooking and Tim and Barbara had messaged him about Bruce acting strangely. He stepped off of the mat, grabbing his water bottle and taking a sip just as Bruce returned to the batcave.

“Finally! We were about to send out a search party!” he called out to him. He didn’t get a response like he expected he would. Not even a grumble, grunt or a glare. Instead he was simply ignored.

“Told you something was up with him,” Tim said from where he was sitting, eyes still glued to the laptop screen in front of him.

“Yeah.” He took another sip from his water bottle. “Selina’s not in town right now, is she?”

Anyone who knew Bruce knew about the very long and very complicated relationship that he shared with the world’s greatest thief. And no matter how hard they tried to make things work it always ended with two broken hearts and an even broodier Bat with an even shorter fuse. It had always been that way, for as long as he could remember.

Tim shook his head. “Barbara already checked. Selina is out of the country and has been since their last break up.”

Dick nodded. “Interesting.” And it was interesting. If it wasn’t Selina that had him acting like this, then who did? Who had gotten underneath his skin so badly? “Looks like we have an investigation on our hands.”

“He’s not going to be happy about that,” Tim frowned, finally looking away from the laptop screen.

He shrugged. “He’s rarely happy about anything. Come on, we should meet with Barbara and figure out where we should start.”

*

Taglist - @the-last-twin-of-krypton @bakugous-bakahoe @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople @little-rivers @callalily2000 @geminicinderella @warsaur @theclassicvinyldragon @aniya7 @bluebear19 @jdream55 @thedeadlythoughts

[ominous-corridors]

Reunion // Ominis Gaunt

Warnings: NSFW. Dominis. Unprotected sex.

Ominis Gaunt x Reader

One shot

Word count: 4,744

Keep in mind I'm Dyslexic so there may be spelling/grammar/punctuation errors.

Summery: Ominis has been gone on Auror work and has been out of the country for years. He is finally home and comes around for a little reunion.

A/N: I'm so sorry you are all subjected to such a long rambling. My fingers ran and I followed. Hope you enjoy. Part of this was inspired by this image.

Ominis Gaunt. How to explain Ominis Gaunt?

He was kind. He was caring. He understood your problems. It was very interesting when she learned he was blind. It was many years ago, she had failed a Charms exam. Looking back on it now, that exam wasn't even that important. It was a silly thing to think about how hard she was crying as she walked through the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower. The echoing of shoes and sobs following her as she wandered aimlessly around the castle. All of her other friends had already gone to their other classes, leaving her alone with her emotions and thoughts. 

"Excuse me?" A gentle voice said behind her.

Turning, she saw a boy. She had seen him before, with his blonde hair slicked back and his piercing blue eyes that never seemed to see her. He was in one of Her other classes, Herbology maybe? 

She wiped her face on her robe sleeve, trying to rid the signs of her salty tears before he could get a good look and ask questions.

"Yes?" She said, maybe a little more cutting than she intended. 

He didn't seem to notice, "I couldn't help but hear you crying. Are you alright?"

He knew.

"O-Oh. Yes.....I'm fine," She gave a weak smile in hopes of reassuring him.

"You don't sound fine," He took a few steps closer to her, his wand firmly held out in front of him.

Why did he have his wand out like he was ready for a fight?

She sniffled again, "I am. Promise."

A small chuckle escaped his lips, "Very interesting. Already making promises and braking them. And we haven't known each other more than five minutes."

What did he know? 

He made his way across the marble floor to stand in front of her. It was interesting, the way he had come from only lead to a dead end, but she could have sworn he wasn't there when she originally passed that part of the corridor.

"Please, I know you don't know me very well, but I can be a very good listener. If you need to talk with someone." 

And that that was the beginning of a wonderful friendship. Not only did he help her feel better that day, but he was always the constant comfort for her during the rest of her schooling days. It wasn't exactly either of their faults when things started to get in the way after graduation and neither of them had really seen each other in person for a few years. Always owls back and forth about where their career paths took them. 

Ominis was actually a very good Auror, despite his lack of vision. He and Sebastian worked together, which made her happy that they could stay close with one another. It was a nasty thing that happened with them during their fifth year. It took a while for them to rekindle their friendship. That was really when Ominis and her got close. They were good friends before, but in those months after the incident, Ominis was the one who needed comfort. And that's where she came in. He had alway been there for her, and it was her turn to be there for him. And that's how she found out more about his family. What they did to people. To Him. And there was no way she were going to make him go back to them over the summer. 

So she offered to let him stay with her. An offer he tried his hardest to refuse, but she wouldn't let him. The summer months spent with her family were an integral part of what made their bond so strong. The days spent out behind her home sitting in the grass under the old oak tree. The sound of her voice as she read him all of those stories she always talked about. He would often slip into a cat nap as she read to him. When she noticed she couldn't help but smile and continue on reading, lest he wake up again. 

And now here she was, sitting at the table in her flat as an owl swooped in, dropping a letter in front of her. She had been expecting the small envelope for a few days. Details of when Ominis would be coming into the city again. He had been away somewhere in Eastern Europe on a case for a while. He had told her that she would not be able to refuse to see him, it had been far too long. She had offered him to come to her flat. She knew he wasn't one for crowded pubs, much preferring a quiet setting. 

I'll be there on Friday. 

7pm. 

Ominis

It was an oddly short note, but he surely was getting things wrapped up and didn't have a lot of time to be sending out his normal pages of writing she had grown accustomed to. 

--

She fiddled with her dress, smoothing the silk under her fingers. The motion was almost unconscious, a way for her to let out the small bit of anxiety that was bubbling up in the pit of her stomach. She poured herself a glass of wine and took a few sips, hoping to calm her nerves. She knew that Ominis couldn't see her, but she still felt the need to check her appearance in the mirror one more time, just to be sure she looked okay. She had always had a soft spot for the man--She even had a crush on him during their school years. She could feel the old emotions of that school girl crush coming back up to the surface as the clock inched closer to seven. She shook her head, trying to get rid of those thoughts. It had been years since she'd seen him, she was acting silly. 

There was a knock at the door.

She set her glass down on the table before making her way down the hall and opening the door. 

And there he was, in all of his glory. Time had been very kind to him. He still sported his hair style from school, slicked back and still just as blonde as it had always been. He still had the same smile on his face. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she took him in. He had a wonderful blue three piece suit that fit his chest and arms snuggly. 

She took a deep breath, collecting herself, "Ominis!"

"Hello, dear," He held his arms out, inviting her in for a hug.

She didn't hesitate to walk right into them as she snaked her arms around his torso, burying her face into his chest. She felt his arms close around her in a tight hug. The feeling of being in his arms was just something so right. She could feel the butterflies of her old crush fluttering in her chest. She almost welcomed them as she took in his cologne. He smelled of mint and something she couldn't quite pinpoint. Perhaps a new aftershave? It had been a long time, he was bound to have something different about him. She wasn't complaining though, she welcomed the delicious aroma he put off. 

"Miss me that much?" He chuckled, still holding onto her tightly.

She felt the rumble in his chest as he laughed, and she realized she could hear his heart beating as well, thrumming against his ribs. She looked up at him from her place in his arms and giggled lightly as his jest.

"Is that such a bad thing?" She questioned with a teasing tone to her voice.

She saw the small smile he had been wearing grow wider at her question and he shook his head, "I suppose not." 

She smiled up at him and slowly pulled away from his arms, taking his hand and leading him into her home, "Tell me about Eastern Europe. You know I don't get to travel. I would love to hear about it."

They found seats at her small table in her kitchen and she poured him a glass of wine before sitting back where she had her own sitting from before. 

"Well, I'm not sure how much I can tell you. Sebastian did do a wonderful job at painting me a picture of what it looked like, but I'm not sure I could really do it justice," He admitted as he took a sip of his wine.

"Well, tell me how you saw it. What opinions do you have in that brilliant head of yours."

He smiled again, "Well, how to describe it...."

He thought for a moment, swirling his wine in his hand as he sank back in his chair. He was starting to relax, lose all those silly 'proper' mannerisms. He knew he could really relax with her, not have to worry about the judgment he was so used to. 

After a moment he spoke up, "Well, it could be loud. Walking the streets with Sebastian. He told me how beautiful the architecture was, how different it was from home. There were always carriages being driven around, and people. But, there was a little shop down one of the quieter side streets. They had the most wonderful coffee there, and good pastries. The smell of them was so delicious," He was smiling widely as he recounted the memory, "And at night, when all of the people were finally gone.....It was so peaceful. The only sounds were my footsteps and a few owls that had a nest near where we were staying. That was when I really enjoyed the city."

She smiled at him, "That does sound lovely. Maybe on day you can show me that little pastry shop."

"I would love to. I thought about you every time I went there, you know. I know how much you adore sweets and sugary things."

He thought of her? Well, of course she thought of him, but she hadn't thought that he gave her much more thought than when he got a letter from her that he had to write a reply to. It almost caught her off guard.

Ominis noticed her silence and spoke again, "Darling, I must admit--I thought about you more than when I went to that shop. More than when I got your letters," He sighed, running a hand through his hair before he sat up straight again, "I don't know how I've managed these years apart from you, being back here now. When you opened the door I felt like I dove head first into the Black Lake. I can't keep my feelings a secret any longer."

His feelings? What was he talking about? Surely his didn't mean what she thought he did.

He stood from his place at the table and came to stand in front of her before swiftly getting to his knees. He held his hands out to her, an invitation that she couldn't decline. She placed her hands in his and he squeezed them lightly. She looked down at him as he stayed like that for a moment before he continued.

"I'v had feelings for you since we were at school. I thought that maybe it was just a school boy's crush and I would get over it. I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship on something that I would forget about in a few weeks," He chuckled, "But I was very wrong."

She sat there, him still holding onto her hands. She watched him carefully, taking in every detail she could. How his pale skin seemed to almost glow under the light filling the room. Every last little beauty mark on his face--They almost looked like constellations. She had realized she was holding her breath at that point and took a sharp inhale. 

She felt Ominis's hands tighten around hers as she did so, almost as if he was afraid of her answer. Like if he didn't hold her tight enough, she would float away like a balloon in the wind. 

She still harbored feelings for him, but it had been years. He was bound to be a different person, as was she. Would they be able to have a relationship after being away from each other for so long?

"Ominis-" She began before being cut off by his deep sigh.

"Please, just give this a chance. Give us a chance. I have lived without you for too long. You are every thought on my mind. Your voice is like sweet nectar to my ears. Your scent is intoxicating. I understand why men do such rash things for the women they love. I would do anything for you. Anything to be the one who gets to know who you really are behind closed doors. To be the one who gets to feel your soft caress," He suddenly let go of her hands and moved them to rest one on  the arm of her chair, and the other to rest on her thigh. 

The feeling of his hand on her sent a shiver up her spine. She felt the goosebumps rising under his touch. His words were already making her feel dazed. How could he hide such strong feelings from her for so long? Why did he pick now to tell all of it to her? 

She felt his hand squeeze her thigh lightly, another sigh leaving his lips.

"I don't think you understand what you do to me, darling," He chuckled and shook his head almost in a teasing way.

"What?" She could feel her underwear staring to get damp.

He leaned in closer, his chest now hovering over her body and his head tilted up to hers as she looked down at him, "You don't understand what you do to me." His voice was husky now, and barely above a whisper.

She felt her breath hitch and her skin ignite under the warmth of his proximity. Her heart was practically beating out of her chest and the butterflies in her stomach threatened to fly away with her. In that moment, she could swear that Ominis was staring right at her. Pouring his soul into hers. 

He leaned in even more, noses touching and lips ghosting over each other, "I'm going to kiss you now, if you'll allow it."

She barely heard him over the sound of blood pumping in her ears. She couldn't manage to speak, not the she didn't try. So, she opted to just nod ever so lightly, not wanting to move her lips too far away from his.

He pressed his lips to hers, gentle and sweet. It was in his nature to be gentle with her. He had always been that way with her. His hand on the chair swiftly moved to the crook of her neck, finally giving her the skin on skin contact she hadn't realized she was craving. His thumb rested gingerly on her jaw as their lips moved in sync. 

After Ominis had done his testing of the waters, she felt his kiss get more aggressive, more rough. More like he was drinking in the sweet waters he had been yearning for, for years. The fire in him only growing as her lips moved to match his rhythm, surprisingly enough for her. She didn't realize she had wanted this so badly, to feel his lips on hers, to feel his hands on her. It was enough to drive her mad, and she craved more. 

Ominis moved his lips from hers, earning a soft whimper in disagreement. He chuckled again as his lips adeptly found their way to her neck, laying a path of soft kisses. 

She bit her lip, feeling the trail of heat and the tingling sensation he left in his wake. His hand on her thigh moved suddenly, slipping higher, his thumb grazing as he went. He was getting dangerously close to her now. She let out a soft moan as he began sucking on her neck.

She felt him smirk into her skin, "I want to see you. All of you."

What did that mean? See her?

His mouth moved to her ear, his hot breath washing over her. And almost as if he read her mind he spoke in a hushed whisper, "You know I see with my hands."

Oh.

Oh.

Her body moved before her mind could process. She quickly stood, causing Ominis to almost fall over. He was thankfully quick on his feet, standing not a moment later. She grabbed his hand and pulled him along behind her as she made her way to her room. 

As soon as she crossed the threshold, his hands were all over her. She would never know how he seemed to just know. Right now, though, all she could think about was he feeling of him running his hands down her sides as he pressed his body against hers from behind. He went straight back to kissing her neck again as his hands moved to the back of her dress.

She could feel as he delicately undid each button, running his fingers behind on the newly exposed skin of her back.

"Your skin is so much softer than I imagined," He said as he laid a few kisses across her shoulders, pulling the dress down off of them.

As soon as it he got it past her shoulders he let go, letting it fall to the floor, all but forgotten as he slid his hands down her back slowly. Savoring every inch of her now exposed body. 

Her breathing was shallow. She took quick breaths to try and fill her lungs, but nothing she did could stop them from screaming at her as she felt his hands leaving goosebumps behind them.

"W-Would you like me to show you?" She managed out. 

He hummed an agreement, his fingers still tracing out the shape of her shoulder blades under her skin.

She turned to face him, almost as if he was commanding her and she was to obey. He held his hands out to her, his eyes half closed in what only could be disturbed as a sultry glance. She bit her lip, taking his hands by his wrists. She could feel his pulse. She was glad that his body had to be screaming at him as much as hers was. 

Gently, she brought his hands to her chest, letting him cup her breasts in his hands. She watched him as he did so, his mouth falling open ever so slightly. He moved his thumbs over her hardened nipples which elicited a muffled moan from her as she clamped down harder on her bottom lip. She watched him smirk and blink a few times before she moved his hands, sliding them along her abdomen to rest on her hips. He squeezed lightly at first before digging his fingers into her flesh, his nails almost leaving marks.

"You are exquisite," He breathed.

He squeezed one more time and she felt her legs getting more slick by the second. She then moved his hands behind her, letting him rest them on her bum. He gave it a good squeeze before leaning in and kissing her again. His lips hungry for her, passion and desire leaking out of them. 

She realized that she was the only one naked in the moment, and she wasn't about to let him get away with that. She quickly started unbuttoning his vest as their tongues melded together. The only sounds in the room were wet lips and heavy breathing with a few moans here and there. 

Ominis's hands moved again, this time on their own to grab her hips again, digging his nails into her skin. She let out a small moan, prompting him to do it again. After a few more moments of unbuttoning his clothing and wet kissing, he stood before her in just his trousers.

She took in the sight of him, soaking in every detail of his form. He was still lean as he had been in school, but there were ever so slight layers of muscle that tugged at his skin in just the right way. He looked absolutely divine. Her lip found it's way between her teeth again as she tried to count every little round mark on his skin. She could spend hours just trying to commit each one's location to memory. 

"Enjoying the view?" He raised an eyebrow at her as he kicked out of his shoes.

"Oh, more than you know." 

He let out a deep chuckle as he stepped toward her.

"Lay down," His voice was rough and commanding. 

She didn't hesitate to obey, quickly making her way to the bed and laying down. He made his way to her, grabbing her thighs and pulling her to the edge of the bed. She let out a small yelp to which he only smirked. He guided her underwear off slowly, letting his fingers graze her skin. He spread her legs wide, holding on to her knees as he he knelt down in front of her. His hands moved from her knees and slid slowly up her inner thighs, his calloused fingertips grazing her in a way that made her feel like she was on fire. He slipped on of his hands under her leg, lifting it onto his shoulder and firmly holding it in place by her thigh. He squeezed again, pressing his cheek into her soft skin.

"You are a divine gift from the Gods, my sweet."

Every time he spoke words like that to her, she could feel her whole core tremble. If he could make her feel like this with just words, what could he do-?

Her thoughts were cut off by the sudden feeling of his finger sliding over her clit. She gasped and almost pulled away from the sensation, only to be stopped by his firm hand on her leg.

"Ah, there you are," He said.

He quickly backtracked his movements, pressing light circles against her. She let out another string of moans as he worked her sensitive area. She looked down at him, watching him. His mouth was parted and she could see the desire written on his face.

"You are music to my ears, dove."

He continued like that for a few moments before dipping his fingers to her entrance, feeling the pool she had left for him. Because of him.

"Oh, you are so deliciously wet for me, love," He smirked again, sliding two fingers into her slowly, relishing in the feeling surrounding them. She threw her head back against the bed. He let out a small groan that mixed with the moan she let out at feeling him inside of her. 

He began pumping his fingers slowly, the sweet sound of her drawn out moans and the wet slapping of her pussy hitting his ears. He picked up the pace, shoving his fingers as far as they would go.

"O-Oh, f-fuck!" She arched her back. His fingers were like magic as he worked her.

He stopped suddenly, removing his fingers quickly. She whined at the loss of him, looking back to see him slowly put his fingers into his mouth, sucking her off of them.

"Merlin, you taste phenomenal."

He quickly stood, unbuttoning his pants and pulling out his member, pumping it a few times with gritted teeth.

"On your knees." He commanded.

She quickly got off the bed, kneeling in front of him. He still held himself in his hand. He used his other hand to grip onto her hair.

"Open," He growled.

This was a new side to him that she hadn't seen before, and she wasn't ashamed to say that she liked it. She liked being commanded by him, she liked how he gripped her, how he pleased her. So, she did as she was told. She opened her mouth wide, sticking her tongue out, ready to accept him.

He slowly guided himself into her mouth, a muffled groan escaping his lips. He moved her head by the hair firmly in his fist, stroking himself ever so slowly. 

"Your mouth is so fucking good." Ominis was not one for swearing. He hardly ever said anything one would consider crass, and that made this all the more attractive to her.

After he gave her a moment to acquaint herself with his size, he began thrusting his length into her quicker. Soft groans coming from him as he did. He began picking up speed, thrusting harder, shoving his whole length down her throat. She tried to keep her throat relaxed, not choke on him, but she couldn't keep it up. She gagged loudly, which caused him to pull out entirely, a wide smirk on his face.

"Good girl," He said, "Now, get back on the bed. Ass up."

She moved and got back on the bed on her hands and knees, putting her bum in the air. She felt him get on the bed behind her, his hands gripping onto her hips. He slid one of his hands down her bum and felt for her entrance before taking his length and pressing his tip against her.

"Ready, love?"

"Y-Yes," She breathed. She had never imagined that their reunion would turn into this, but she was happy it had.

Without another word, he roughly pushed into her, feeling her walls around him with a drawn out groan. 

"Fuck," He muttered, rolling his hips.

She moaned out as he did so, feeling him fill her. 

He reached out and gripped her hair again, pulling her to support her top half with her hands. He began bucking into her wildly, moans and groans filling the room as they both felt the pleasure rocketing through their bodies with each connection of hips. 

"That's right. Take it, darling, " He groaned, "You take my cock so well."

She could feel him hitting deep within her, right on that magic little spot. Each thrust of his length hitting perfectly. The knot in her stomach was tight, almost painfully so a he continued his pace, her moaning loud and unbridled. He moved his hand from her hair and slipped it around her mouth, leaning forward to press his chest against her back.

"Quite, darling. I want to hear my cock fuck that pretty pussy of yours," He almost purred into her ear. 

He continued to buck his hips as he stayed over her like that with his hand over her mouth. Her moans muffled by his firm grip on her face. He grunted into her ear as he listened to the wet sound of skin on skin echo off the walls surrounding them. 

"Mmmm," He said something after that. Something that she could only describe as air slithering past his tongue. 

Parseltongue. 

He let the sweet sounds of it pass his lips as he fucked her. Listening to him speak to her like that was only serving to drive her more mad. She could feel herself getting closer as the friction became almost unbearable. 

Her walls began to tighten around him, causing him to let out another groan.

"Let it out, dove. Come for me," He whispered into her ear, sitting up in his knees again and gripping her waist tightly. 

The then began pounding into her, pulling her hips to meet his as he groaned and grunted at the feeling of her tight pussy around him.

It didn't take long for her to get to her climax after that as he continued to hit her sweet spot. Her legs shook under her as the knot in her stomach came undone. 

"O-Oh, Ominis!" She moaned loudly as she came. Her breath heavy.

He chuckled, continuing to hit her hard as his own climax came over him. He groaned loudly, pushing as far into her as he could, filling her to the brim. 

They stayed in that position for a moment, both panting hard as they came down from the high of their escapade. After a moment, Ominis pulled out, falling onto the bed next to her. She quickly followed his lead and laid next to him.

He opened his arms for her to come closer to him and she happily obliged, cuddling herself into his chest as his arms wrapped around her. He kissed her forehead and then rested his chin on top of her head.

"How was that?" He asked.

She giggled, "That was....It was wonderful."

He chuckled and squeezed her tightly to him, "Good."