#which in turn makes the stages more memorable

[antirepurp]

i love frontiers with my whole heart but it would have benefited so much from having the platforming be tied into the environment itself instead of placing assets all over the islands. i don't necessarily have problems with the assets either but i'd imagine they would've served their purpose better when used far more sparingly and probably have them tied further into the ancients' technology to emphasize their artificial nature. that probably would've made the exploration angle of the game more memorable as well by making the player concretely interact with the environmental storytelling at hand more often instead of giving them funny rails and springs and platforms that take the focus away from the environment around you in favor of delivering a more traditional platforming challenge where the island is just a backdrop

[sirenscriptures]

pleasure waves (remastered)

pairing: tengen x hinatsuru x makio x suma x reader

synopsis: after your honeymoon with tengen starts to come to a close, he and his wives plan to make your last night on the beautiful shores of cancun memorable… 4.4k

warnings/notes: fem ! reader, fivesome, soft to rough sex, LOTS of praise and admiration, semi-public sex, size difference/kink, endearment/pet names, tooth-rottingly sweet aftercare, outdoor sex, passionate sex.

* if you recognize this, it’s because it’s a rewrite of an old collab piece from one of my old blogs <3 this may or may not be a mini series in the future, just depends on what feedback i receive ! *

a warm, kissing breeze passed over you as you stepped out onto the shore’s opening. all the noise and commotion coming from behind you began to melt into the soothing sound of the waves pushing over the sand. 

the sky was stunning, clouds gradient with purple, pink and orange hues. meanwhile, the sun was piercing as it gradually sunk below the horizon, encasing the entire beach area in a warm, dim haze. 

now away from the crowded resort, you felt your body relax. your feet planted into the freshly cooling sand, the thin cloth of your bathing suit cover freely dancing within the gentle breeze. with the heat slowly dying down, the near stifling warmth in the air began to fade into a soothing coolness. 

behind you back at the large courtyard, there was a bustling crowd watching a large fire show being performed on the side stage. large wand-shaped poles whirled all over like flags around the flashy performers, earning excited cheers as they tossed them up and the flames continued to swirl over them.

at some point, you had lost hinatsuru somewhere in the crowd. the two of you had just gotten back early from a dinner with tengen, makio and suma, and wanted to get a head start on enjoying the last bits of the resort on your last night here. 

even though the place was beautiful in and out, you had to admit the wide clearing the shore offered right outside of the resort was your personal favorite part. even if there were people all around, the serenity of the crashing waves and clear winds made it seem like pure solitude for you. 

“there you are.” a familiar soft voice from behind you silenced your thoughts.

turning around, your eyes met with hinatsuru again. her thick hair flowed down her shoulders, warm violet eyes locked upon you now. seeing her in front of you now caused you to smile. 

she was dressed in a lilac and white floral pattern bathing suit cover, one that was a similar style to yours. underneath, the wind kicked up to reveal her dark purple two piece that hugged her body perfectly. truly, she was a sight to behold. as she always was. 

“i was certain i lost you in there,” she took your hand into hers, gently grasping it, gaze turning to the sight of the now dying sun on the shore in front of the both of you. “good thing i know this area well by now.” she chuckled. 

you admired the softness of her palm intertwining with yours. the two of you stood together, watching the gentle waves roll by as night fell over the sky. 

slowly, her arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to her. the rhythmic, whispering crashes of the shore kept both of you practically hypnotized in your embrace. 

it was amazing to think such clear waters and light air could have such a beautiful affect on you and all the people here. it was almost as if this entire shore, this entire city was something alike to a dream. which made sense, due to all the people who came here every year for vacation. 

yet, your reason to be here felt so much more special than anything else. being married, especially to tengen and three beautiful ladies, was a different type of love. 

it felt deeper, and certainly more adventurous than any other relationship you’d been apart of. even after the wedding, which was relatively private, it was a lot for you to get situated with. 

even though you felt like you were finally breaking through the ice and getting used to being with all four of them, there was still something lingering inside you. something that just wouldn’t go away, no matter how many times you tried. a nagging feeling of what you could best describe as anxiety. 

even if you did feel good and relaxed around them, especially during this amazing week vacation, there was always something you felt you were unnecessarily worried about. as if something was missing, or just not right within your mind. 

while you knew it could just be overlapping thoughts, it still didn’t stop you from lying wide awake at night, even with both of tengen’s arms snaked around you, his other wives sound asleep next to you as well. 

it took you a few moments to notice hina staring at you as you zoned out into your thoughts, a visibly concerned look dressing her expression.

her hands slipped up beneath your chin, hands directing your face to look at her.

“are you alright?” she asked, feeling how the heat increased in your cheeks. “you’ve barely said a word since dinner.” 

you let out a small sigh. it’d be no good to just nod and say yes at this point. she knew you too well for that by now.

“i just haven’t felt my best, specifically today.” you admitted. 

her hands lowered to grasp your own, tilting her head curiously. “how so, love?”

your eyes averted, glimpsing the early sprout of the full moon deep in the horizon ahead of you. it was near splintering to try and voice your feelings, yet you knew you had to. otherwise, this feeling would only fester onwards. 

“well, i know its early on…but i don’t really feel like i’m really married to you.” 

hinatsuru’s taken aback expression that followed your words was what made you panic instantly.  

“n-not that i don’t want to be married to you! that’s not it at all! i just don’t feel completely–” 

you were interrupted by her laughter, hina playfully swatting at you. she abruptly cleared her throat and met your confused expression with a soothing smile. 

“[name], you’re too cute..” she murmured, stroking your now burning face with familiar tenderness. even if it was amusing, she remained with a certain seriousness, even with such a gentle personality. 

“you know that’s normal, right?” she said, thumb gently stroking the surface of your cheekbone. “i can tell you, since i felt that exact same way when i first married tengen.” 

you shot her a confused look. out of what you’d seen, her and tengen’s bond seemed to be so deep. even though he adored every single one of you the same, he and hina were another kind of bond that you didn’t even fully understand when first getting together with them. then again, you figured that would come with time.

“i never quite knew why, but it never felt real.” she said, turning to look at the dazzling moon above you now, its light glittering upon the water. 

“it felt a little isolating and even scary at first, but that was normal at the time.” she turned back, still smiling at you. “you’re still so new to this. so don’t stress yourself out for not feeling all there.” 

it was like a completely different weight had lifted off of you now that she’d said that. you couldn’t help but smile at her, your hands intertwining together again. it all made so much sense now, thankfully. 

“there’s my girls!” you heard a familiar, booming voice call from behind you both. 

turning around, you glimpsed tengen and makio walking towards you both, suma dashing ahead of them through the sand to come greet you.

suma’s eyes were lit up with that same fiery excitement as she ran towards you both, arms bundling you and hina in a large embrace. the three of you were left giggling at the sight, struggling to recompose yourselves. 

though, suma pulled back with a slight pouty look on her face. 

“now why did you head off without us?” she asked, hands now on her hips. “you know this is a honeymoon, meaning we’re supposed to be spending time together!”

“oh, give them a break, suma. can you blame them? this view is incredible!” makio exclaimed, eyes wide with amazement as she looked at the sky. “plus, we’ve had all week together.” 

suma admired the view with a smile. “i guess you’re right, then.” she rolled her eyes playfully. 

“well, it's our turn to enjoy it now!” she chuckled, running ahead to enjoy the rush of the shore alongside makio, where they proceeded to remove their bathing suit covers and venture deeper into the shore together. 

you glanced back behind you, eyes meeting with tengen’s. he stood in front of you and hina, that same handsome smile across his lips. his longer hair was barely past his shoulders, giving him that naturally scruffy look you loved so much. 

he leaned down suddenly, hands bringing your face to his, kissing you warmly. the gesture admittedly took you by surprise, the warmth rushing to your face again. 

tengen pulled away gently, eyes still staring into yours with a soft intensity, paired with something else you couldn’t quite read at the moment. 

“how are you?” he asked quietly, thumb gently rubbing against your cheek.

“i’m good.” you murmured in response, trying to suppress the tremble in your voice. 

beside you, hinatsuru was smiling tenderly at you two. even if you were still struggling to find your true place of balance with them, she trusted it would all melt away tonight. after all, they had all arranged for this night to be all about you, the new wife. 

but, you didn’t need to know that. not yet, at least. 

the whole time the other two wives messed about in the shore, tengen had you wrapped in his arms as hina laid snuggled beside you both. being the new wife, they wanted to make sure you were prioritized, especially on the last night of the honeymoon. 

the sound of the gentle waves paired with the darkness of the sky was so soothing. you could feel yourself practically melting into tengen’s chest as you laid on top of him. 

he smiled down at you. “you look so good in that bathing suit,” he murmured. 

you gushed at his sweet words as his hand tenderly stroked your inner thigh. 

“you really know my style by now.” you replied. 

he hummed gently, fingers running through your hair. that familiar mischievous glint appeared back in his eyes as he admired you. one of his calloused hands momentarily tilted your head up by your chin, warm breath on your cheek.

“it’s too bad i’ll have to tear it off you.” he teased directly in your ear. 

slowly, his hands begin to wander even more. from your thighs to your waist, he made sure to thoroughly caress every part of your body. his hands seemed so large compared to practically all of you.

thinking about how much strength he had, he could simply wrap a single arm around you and be able to carry you perfectly anywhere he wanted. you were so delicate that it was obvious when he was holding back when touching you. it was so easy for someone of his size to accidentally hurt you if he were being careless, which he was the complete opposite of, thankfully.

you felt your breath hitch as his hands traveled to your protruding nipples, pinching them in between his fingers slightly. his large fingers kneaded carefully around your areolas, admiring how his touch made you squirm against him. 

you let out a small whimper, his hands proceeding to massage and grasp at every part of you that he could. the more you responded to his touches, the more he wanted to do to you. in the midst of laying with two of his women, tengen had honestly forgotten that there was a chance anyone could walk by and see, even though this was a more private side of the shore. 

“tengen…be gentle with her.” hina spoke softly, her hand interlocking with yours from behind you. 

even though you only caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of your eye before she positioned herself closer to you, you swore you could see a flash of protectiveness, or…was that envy in her eyes? you never knew hinatsuru of all people had a territorial side such as this.

“she’s our new jewel, after all.” she said proudly, eyes glimmering within coming into contact with yours. 

suddenly, her lips collided with yours. while this wasn’t the first time she’d done this to you, it always managed to send a plethora of sensations through you. this was especially prevalent now, for you had to hold back a staggered moan when her soft lips mashed against yours. 

she tasted so sweet. with her tongue slipping in and out of your mouth, you could feel your mind blurring as if the amount of pleasure had given you some sort of fever. honestly, you wouldn't be surprised at this point if you’d caught a temperature. 

hina pulled away from you eventually, her warm gaze greeting you once more with that same sweet smile. at the same time, tengen’s hands continued to roam your body, the same smirk lacing his lips. 

you could feel your entire body heating up even more. having the both of them praise and caress you at the same time was almost overwhelming, yet you relished the feeling and how it began to leave a generous slick of fluid within your bathing suit bottoms. 

tengen chuckled in response, turning your face back to his. now, you could really glimpse the hungry expression forming in his gaze. 

“yes, she is…so precious too.”

his lips once again interlocked with yours, tongue teasing the inside of your mouth. his kiss was much heavier than hina’s, the intensity of it managing to make you let out a choked moan. meanwhile you could feel her hands from behind you taking to massage your breasts, her tender lips laying kisses along your neck. 

you knew very well this whole time you were making him wait. this whole trip, you’d been so nervous around him. as if you weren’t already married to him, and like it was the first time you’d met him. you’d acted the same way in front of the wives from time to time. but it was much more intense around tengen. 

but now, he craved to see your true wild side. what was it like to see you in your messiest, loveliest form? you could tell hina and possibly makio and suma would want the same. 

they had only one way to find out, and what better way to do it on the most romantic beach at night? 

“well well, starting without us?” makio’s voice sounded from above you. her playful smirk was directed right at you, marveling at how you were already a melting mess in between them. 

suma was behind her by a few steps, peeking down at you with an aroused curiosity. “as always.” she scoffed, half-jokingly.

looking up at them, they were dripping wet from the shore that was now whispering away in the distance. you could see the sun’s golden hue beginning to cast ripples of color over the darkening water as it slowly set, the cool air fully sweeping over with the moonlight beginning to sneak in. 

but you had every night to see that sunset on this vacation. what really caught your attention were the two wives in front of you. they looked so beautiful as always, just even more so now. the slight golden glow of the disappearing sun emitted a beautiful hue on their mostly bare bodies that seemed to shine with droplet marks from the sea. while suma was more bashful and trying to cover herself, makio stood unabashed with her hand on her hip, wrinkled bikini top dangling out of her hand. 

tengen glared at them with the same playfulness, hands not stopping from running all over you. 

“don’t complain, you just weren’t paying proper attention,” he teased. “you’re here now, after all.”

suddenly, he began to sit up, gently guiding you to do the same. tengen’s hands remained on your hips, leaning himself close to your face. 

“sit and face me.” he murmured.

you immediately obeyed. now sitting in front of him, your gaze pointed up at him like you were awaiting his next command. 

he shook his head at you, amused. “on my lap, princess.” 

even though you were growing shaky, you obeyed. now straddling him, you gently rested your arms on his broad shoulders for a little bit of support. 

you watched as he undid his robe, revealing his enthralling muscles. even if you already knew what he looked like shirtless, this was even more of an amplifying experience. 

you could see how there was a faint remainder of the oil previously lathered on his skin at the beginning of the day gleaming on his skin. you could see every faint scar and mark of his perfectly displayed for you to admire. though it was futile to just stare in silence, since your awe-struck expression caused him to chuckle, even earning a slight giggle from hina and the others. 

“see something you like?” he chuckled, hands running up your bare waist. 

before you could react properly, you felt makio’s hand from behind you abruptly untie the string of your bikini top in a singular motion, taking advantage of you being distracted. the initial gesture caused you to jump. 

“wait—!” 

before you could stop it, the thin fabric had already fallen to the ground. the heat in your body now felt blistering as you were almost completely revealed, especially out in the open like this. 

as you initially scrambled to cover yourself, tengen stopped you, a dazed yet still focused look in his eyes. you could almost see every want of his coming to light now. every craving, every ache he’d had for you and your body was becoming so clear now. 

“don’t.” he said gruffly, placing your hands back where they were. 

“you look so pretty, hun.” makio purred from behind you, embracing you by your upper waist, her lips grazing against the back of your neck.

“why would you ever want to hide this?” she admired everything from your thighs to your breasts, making you shiver even with her lightest touches. 

you let out a whimper as makio continued. as if it weren't enough, both suma and hinatsuru now moved even closer to you. at this point, it was all such a collective blur that all you could feel was their hands touching you, without being able to discern who exactly was touching what in the moment. 

desperately, you started to grind down on tengen’s erection through the thin cloth of your bikini. even with the slight separation, you could feel just how big he was growing beneath you. his gaze was still so focused, even though you could feel his breath growing even more labored on your skin. 

though, you swear you could feel hina’s eyes burning into you. even as she patiently watched you, inside she was reeling at how good you looked. so entranced and in a pure, euphoric state. this is all she wanted for you, for you to experience the best pleasure from all of your lovers at once. 

you couldn’t even gather what had happened in between, but the sound that dragged you from a near pleasure-drunken state was the sound of fabric ripping. looking down, you saw the mangled pieces of your suit bottoms in tengens hands, effortlessly ripped away to reveal your ass, along with your now soaked cunt.

before you could even move, you let out a gasp as you flinched, feeling makio’s fingers swipe over your slick wetness, admiring how a generous amount of it glistened on her fingertips.

“well, what do we have here?” makio teased. being the closest to tengen, she extended her hand to him, a knowing look in her eyes. 

you could feel yourself pulsing as he took her fingers into his mouth, tongue lapping up all of your fluids from her fingers. from there, something was set ablaze in him that even he wasn’t fully prepared for. 

“shit…” tengen groaned under his breath. his fingers dug into your hips, lips beginning to leave a trail of kisses on your neck. his breath was rough and hot, teeth occasionally sinking in and marking you up as he pleased. 

throwing your head back, you could feel everything from his shaft rubbing against your folds, to your wives’ hands roaming and groping you all over. some were in your hair, some squeezing your ass, and some even snaking around your stomach to tease your sensitive bud. 

in the midst of the entanglement, you could glimpse hina kissing up your stomach, or what of it she could manage to get in contact with while your husband suckled at your sore nipples. 

her eyes had the same look of craving that tengen had—but it was so much softer. she gently caressed your face in her hands as she admired your beauty again. once more, her lips collided with yours. through her kisses, you could feel yourself instinctively squeeze your thighs together as your tongues teased one another. 

in between hot kisses, you heard her say ‘i love you’ which almost made you tip over the edge, until tengen caught your attention once again. either way, there was no way you were cumming only once tonight.

you could see he was getting restless now. his hands were starting to leave deeper marks on your hips, and it was evident he wanted all of you to himself now. laying you down beneath him, the wives knew to leave him some space. they still remained close, of course. 

seeing as you were already trembling and even had a few tear streaks staining your face, your wives and husband did their best to make sure you were fully relaxed. 

while tengen let his cock rest at your entrance, he slowly massaged your lower pelvic area with care. hina and suma were above you: suma taking to massaging your tense shoulders and hina gingerly running her fingers through your hair. meanwhile, makio worked her hands into massaging your legs and feet. 

he smiled softly down at you, the tip naturally plunging in slightly due to how wet you were. his hand caressed your face, thumb brushing over your lower lip. 

“take a deep breath, baby.” he said, face close to yours now. “i’ll start slow, okay?” 

you could only meekly nod at him as suma and hina both held onto each of your hands now. 

he let out a low groan as he almost immediately slipped balls-deep into you. your head threw back, a shaky cry escaping your lips as he was already stretching you out so much. you could feel your legs trembling uncontrollably, as you were already so close to an orgasm. 

even though his starting thrusts were slow, you could feel them pick up quite fast. you could almost feel how pent up he’d been with each thrust.

tengen drove himself further into you by lifting you into a mating press, the slaps from his thrusts getting louder the faster he pounded into you. in response, your hands messily grasped around his neck, struggling to find your balance as his length fucked deeper and deeper into you. 

“tengen…s’feels so good,” you slurred, the slapping only getting faster the closer you grew. 

with the way you tightened around him, he could only respond with feral moans and growls, words barely stringing together as all he could think about was making you come. 

“that’s my angel…taking me so well,” he panted, thrusts now growing sloppy as you clenched around him even more, your breasts bouncing with his rhythm. 

his eyes, while set ablaze with something so primal, still managed to have that soft undertone to them as he looked at you. it was so clear how much he adored you, and he would make it known. he let his fingers dig back into your tender flesh, ready to spill everything he had to give inside of you. 

his forehead was against yours now, both of your moans breaking up into shaky, desperate noises. 

“cum for me, sweetheart,” he hissed passionately, the final thrusts becoming so deep you swear you felt like you were about to burst. 

“show me that you’re mine.” 

it only took a few more pumps of his cock inside of you before you cried out, louder than you ever had before. your climax had caused almost full-body convulsions, and you didn’t think you’d be able to function properly if it weren’t for your wives soothing you. 

you still remained laying on your back for a while, letting hinatsuru wipe the hot tears that streaked down your cheeks as suma kissed and massaged your body, and makio helped you get your breathing back to normal. 

tengen, while still in a daze himself, still fetched you cold water and wasn’t about to let you walk back to the resort. come to think of it, he probably wouldn’t let you walk for a while after this. 

after a while, the group of you sat out on the shore admiring the crashing of the waves along with the beautiful stars that now blanketed the night sky. 

you laid with your lovers, head resting against tengen’s chest while your wives surrounded you in a sort of “pile” of cuddling. of course, hina was closest to you, her head resting on one of your shoulders. 

“I think that was a pretty good trip, hm?” tengen asked, smiling specifically at you. 

you could only give an exhausted smile, hand rubbing against one of his arms that surrounded your waist. 

makio let out a yawn. “it’s only good if we can stay here forever.” she sighed dreamily, resting her head on one of his shoulders. tengen chuckled, laying a kiss on her forehead. 

you glanced towards hina, a sleepy figure of suma rested against her thigh. hina looked back at you sweetly, her hand rubbing over yours. 

“do you feel better?”

you couldn’t help but giggle a little, thinking of how different you felt a couple hours ago compared to now. 

“so much better.” you murmured, circling your thumb over her hand.

the smile you gave hina in that moment seemed to solve something within herself she even didn’t know needed solving. she figured it was because you and her lovers brought her so much peace, which was something she always found herself needing more of in her life. 

after a honeymoon like this, all of you collectively felt like nothing could ever come close to this moment: watching the stars with your lovers as the waves crash in the distance. 

[gogogodzilla]

peeta mellark being you to let him eat your 🐱

Just a Taste || Peeta Mellark

peeta mellark x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, cunnilingus, porn with plot, panty sniffing, reader is wearing a dress, panty stealing masterlist ✩ read on ao3 ✩

The stage of the training center under your heels was a familiar feeling. The stage lights shone brightly, and you squinted slightly as you walked out with Peeta hand in hand. The air practically crackled with energy as the booming applause from the audience of Capitol citizens nearly deafened you. 

Caesar Flickerman warmly welcomed both of you. He gave you a good-natured kiss on the cheek and shook Peeta’s hand. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to how touchy the Capitol people were. 

Once the crowd settled down, Caesar gave the two of you a beaming smile. “It’s an absolute delight to have the two of you here once again,” he exclaimed and you wondered how he got his teeth to be so white. “The Victory Tour has been a success, wouldn’t you say? What has been the most memorable moment for you both?” 

Peeta squeezed your hand before answering, “As much as I’ve loved spending some time in all of the districts, the most unforgettable part was spending time with the person I love and sharing our love with the districts.” 

You feigned embarrassment at his words and looked away. You couldn’t avoid the heat that flooded your cheeks, which brought a boisterous laugh from Caesar. “You two are adorable. I love it!” he gushed. 

The audience cheered in response, and Peeta kissed your knuckles. After a few moments, Caesar settled the audience down and turned back to the two of you. “I’m sure you both know that we have immensely enjoyed seeing your love blossom in front of us. It’s truly a marvelous sight.” 

“Thank you, Caesar. We’re extremely grateful for the opportunity to be here with you and the rest of the Capitol citizens,” you give him a dazzling smile before turning to Peeta. “I am also incredibly grateful to be here with the love of my life. I couldn’t ask for anything better,” your gaze softens as you look at Peeta. The audience ‘awws’ and cooed at the two of you while Caesar pressed a hand to his heart. 

“Ugh, we can’t get enough of you two. What does the future look like for the two of you? I’m sure we’re all eager to see more of your love blossoming,” Caesar questioned and the audience buzzed with excitement. 

You shared a glance with Peeta. You gave his hand a comforting squeeze, and he turned to Caesar. 

“The future looks bright as long as I have my love by my side,” he answered, allowing a hush to fall over the crowd. Damn, he was good at this. “And I would like to have my love by my side for as long as we both shall live,” his voice trembled slightly as he pulled out a small velvet box. He got on one knee and looked up at you. Your hand covered your mouth in feigned shock. “My love, you have been my light in the darkest times, and I can’t imagine a future where you’re with me. Will you make me the happiest man in Panem and marry me?” 

Emotions swelled within you. Peeta was laying it on a bit thick, but you didn’t care. You nodded your head, forgetting to speak for a moment. He slightly raised his brow, and you forced yourself to speak. 

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding rapidly. Your voice returned and you spoke louder, “Of course I’ll marry you.” 

Applause and cheers thundered throughout the room as Peeta got to his feet and slid the ring onto your finger. Peeta’s smile was radiant as he pulled you into a kiss which caused the audience to roar even louder. You grinned as you kissed him back. You truly did care for him, and didn’t mind being stuck with him forever. You would’ve been dead without him. 

As you pulled away, Caesar dabbed his eyes theatrically and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. Peeta kept his hand around your waist as you curled up against his side.  

“Ladies and gentlemen, a proposal during the Victory Tour! This is certainly a night to remember, wouldn’t you say?” Caesar beamed as he swept an arm out toward the crowd which roared in response. 

Peeta held you close as the interview wrapped up. The crowd buzzed with excitement, and you couldn’t fight the grin that graced your features. Eventually, your time with Caesar was over and you were ushered off the stage. 

Effie met you as you exited and she clapped her hands in excitement. “Wonderful work you two. Now, time to get ready for the reception President Snow offered to throw to celebrate the two of you. It’ll be a party of the ages,” she declared, walking quickly as you returned to your quarters. 

Cinna intercepted you as you stepped off the elevator. You clung onto Peeta’s hand until the last possible second. 

Cinna grinned as he led you away, “Don’t worry, you’ll have some time to catch up before we leave.” 

“Can’t I just wear what  I have on?” you thumbed the fabric of your dress as you walked, frowning slightly. 

He chuckled, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

He led you to your room and helped you onto your podium in front of the mirror. Cinna got to work almost immediately, fluttering around you with practiced movements. The soft rustle of fabric accompanied his steps as he brought the dress over to you. He quickly got you changed, his gentle hands working wonders as the fabric draped over your body. Cinna’s hands danced delicately over your hair, weaving it into an elegant style perfect for the celebration tonight. 

“You look radiant,” Cinna complimented as he stepped back to admire his work in the mirror. 

You met his gaze in the mirror, a grateful smile on your lips, “It’s all because of you.” 

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and a knock sounded at your door. You both turned and Peeta poked his head in.  A soft smile made its way onto your features as he stepped into the room and finally got a good look at you. His eyes widened as they raked over your form, and your cheeks flushed. 

“You look…” Peeta’s words faltered as his gaze remained on you. “Wow,” was all he managed to come up with as he took a few steps toward you. 

Cinna chuckled, “I’ll let you two have a moment. You have 15 minutes before Effie’s going to come knocking.” 

He gave you a suggestive look as he left, and the flush of your cheeks spread. Peeta held out his hand so he could help you down, and you graciously took it. 

You ran your fingers over his chest, feeling the smooth fabric of his suit. “Portia outdid herself… You look amazing,” you grinned, tugging him closer. 

His hands wrapped around your waist, enveloping you like they had done so many times before. This time it was different though. The soft scent of his cologne engulfed you as he leaned in. His lips met yours in a soft kiss, but there was something more to it. Something hungry. 

“Is it bad that I’m glad we’re stuck together forever?” you whispered as you pulled away to catch your breath. 

He grinned, “You make marriage sound so pleasant.” 

You chuckled in response and pulled him into another, deeper kiss. You tugged him by the lapels toward your bed, acutely aware of the seconds ticking by before Effie would be knocking. 

His hands wandered across your hips as the backs of your thighs hit the edge of your bed and you slowly fell back. You parted for long enough to scoot back and Peeta eagerly followed you. His lips were back to devouring you within moments. You let out a small noise as he slotted his knee between your legs, the smooth fabric of his slacks brushing against your inner thighs. 

 You pulled away, attempting to catch your breath. Something shifted between you, and your entire body seemed to hum with need. Peeta caged your head between his forearms and his nose bumped against yours. 

“We don’t have a lot of time,” you trailed off as Peeta scattered kisses across your neck. 

He grinned against your collarbone, “I’m sure they’ll understand if I want to take a few minutes to ravish my fiancée.” 

Your cheeks flared at his words. There had been rumors going around all tour that Peeta’s nightly visits to your room were far from innocent cuddling. You did little to dispel them, though. You couldn’t deny that this was the first time you’d felt this hunger for Peeta. 

He ran his hands up the bare skin of your thighs, and your heart fluttered. 

“Just a taste,” he murmured as he scattered kisses across your covered breasts and moved down your body. “Please, my love. I just need a taste.” 

He ran his fingertips over your thighs as he situated himself between them. You craned your head to look down at him, and the sight of him had heat pooling between your legs. He looked up at you with those big brown eyes you couldn’t resist, begging for permission to ruin you. With the slight inclination of your head, he was sliding the fabric of your skirt to the side, letting his hands wander across your hips and thighs. 

He pressed featherlight kisses across your inner thighs, nipping at the sensitive skin there. He wrapped his arms around your legs, keeping them in place. His breath fanned over the thin fabric of your panties, and you instinctively clenched them together. His grip held you in place as you squirmed, aching for more. 

He hooked his fingers in the sides of your under and tugged them down and off your body. Your eyes widened as he brought your panties to his nose and inhaled your scent. He let out a noise that was something like a whimper combined with a groan, and you flushed. 

He set your panties to the side and settled between your thighs. A gasp escaped you as he swiped his tongue through your folds. His grip tightened on your thighs as he desperately pulled you closer to his eager mouth. His tongue worked relentlessly against your sopping core, circling your clit before dipping down to tease your entrance. 

You wanted desperately to tangle your fingers in his blonde locks, but you settled for the blanket below you. You were sure that Peeta’s prep team might have your head if you messed up his hair. 

You slapped one hand over your mouth, muffling the desperate pleas and whines that escaped your lipstick-covered lips. Peeta eagerly lapped up everything you were giving him, and his nose bounced against your clit as he dipped his tongue into your entrance. Peeta reached up to intertwine his fingers with yours, grounding you.

Peeta whined against you, sending vibrations coursing through you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your hips jutted against him, grinding against his tongue. Every fiber of your being was tensed and ready to snap. 

Peeta’s tongue circled your clit once more, and your release had you arching against the mattress, pushing you closer to his mouth. Your thighs attempted to clamp around Peeta’s head as you spasmed against him. He helped you to ride out your high, and his fingertips dug into the plush of your thighs. 

After a few moments you stilled, and Peeta pressed comforting kisses against your inner thighs. You lifted your head to look at him, and your cheeks flushed at the sight. Your arousal had covered the bottom half of his face, and a satisfied grin covered his features. 

“You did so good,” he praised as he crawled forward to kiss you. You tasted yourself on his lips, and a groan left you. 

You were able to sneak in a few more lingering kisses before Effie’s knock sounded at your door. Peeta crawled off of you and helped you to the edge of your bed, your skirts only slightly getting in the way. 

He grabbed your panties before you could and shoved them in the front pocket of his suit. 

“For safekeeping,” he murmured with a grin plastered across his face as he leaned down to kiss you. You scowled at him in response but kissed him nonetheless. 

He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the rest of your arousal off his face before neatly tucking it back in its rightful place. You shuffled to the bathroom to clean yourself up, returning moments later looking slightly more put together. 

Effie knocked once again, more insistently this time. You cringed, sensing the inevitable lecture you’d receive later. 

Peeta held his arm out for you to take, and you gladly clung to him. 

“Shall we?”

You rolled your eyes, “Let’s get this over with.”

[writteninkat]

What made you fall for these MHA men?

w/ Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki, Kaminari

warnings: none, just some good ol' fluff

a/n: idk man i feel like most people(me) goes straight to the fucking stage and skips the adorable crush stage

navigation

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

this man is so fucking smart it turns you to goo

whenever you're having trouble with schoolworks/projects/assignments, you sit yourself next to him just to get the work done fast (and he smells and looks good so plus points ig)

find long math problems difficult? mans will take one look at it and immediately start scribbling. probably witchcraft, you don't know.

one moment you're complaining to mina about how your teacher can suck dick after giving you the assigment, the next katsuki has the answer in a box

chemistry problems? mans has the entire table memorized.

history? which one? japanese? american? french?

ah, he also butts in your conversations whenever you get the date wrong.

yeah he teaches you stuff you're having trouble understanding, but he will yell the entire time.

yeah, he teaches the topics worlds better than the teacher ever could but at the cost of your hearing

seeing his name listed along the top students with high marks has you inspired to do just as better as him

you tried confessing by giving him a love letter and he returned it to you with corrections TT (and a note that said: rewrite this and read it to me in person, then I'll take you out for some ramen)

EIJIRO KIRISHIMA

he's the sweetest ever, who wouldn't fall for him?

you're having terrible period cramps? this man will have a 'period aid box' filled with sweets, sanitary products, pain relievers, a heating pad, and more of your favorite things delivered to your door

it's pouring and you forgot your umbrella?

if he has an umbrella: will obv share it with you and doesn't care if half his body gets drenched, what matters is you're dry

no umbrella: takes off his uniform jacket/vest and drapes it over you. you'll end up damp but hey, he tried his best

whenever there's a new place, (restaurant, fair, amusement park, etc.) you're the first one he's asking to join him. and you always go. and he always pays.

hurt yourself? scraped a knee, got a bruise, muscle ache? he has a first aid pouch in his bag just for you

always walks you to class, always struggles with you when doing homework, always brings you your favorite food/drink

problem? he does all of this and will still call you a 'friend'. 'best friend' if you're lucky.

yeah, this adorable boy has no idea all the shit he does has you falling head over heels in love for him

IZUKU MIDORIYA

the way he's so passionate about what he loves, then catches himself being so open about it, then blushes, has you swooning

it was a normal day when you asked him about all might. you ended up listening to him for two hours ranting and sharing

you thought, 'how cute.' and then remembered you had piles of homework to do. and then he offered to help you with them while still talking about all might

he's also incredible passionate about being a hero

the way he talks about keeping the weak and needy safe has your heart clenching

whenever you get hurt during quirk training? he drops everything to take you to the nurse

feel insecure about yourself? he goes on a never ending tangent about how you're enough and how amazing you are

whenever you feel like you aren't gonna reach a goal, he's right there to pump you back up

whenever you tease him about being handsome or cute, he gets all flushed and shy, he makes you wanna just nibble on his cheeks!

problem here? he does that with everyone.

he's an inherintly good person, so you can't blame him for it, you can only blame yourself for thinking you were special to him.

or are you?

SHOTO TODOROKI

you're a yapper. you're running your mouth twenty four-seven. and twenty four hours every day, he listens. quietly.

at first you thought he was just ignoring you, but he brings up what you babbled about from time to time.

you talked about your mom being in the hospital. the next day, your mom's calling you to tell 'your classmate i said thank you for the fruits'.

mmhmm. he gave your mom fruits as a 'get well soon' gift.

shoto listens to every word you say, even when you don't realize you're saying them

"i heard the smoothie at that new diner was good." next day, there's a take out smoothie on your desk

"remind me to get pads tomorrow." your desk is filled with every single kind of sanitary product you could think of, from wings, non wings, long, dry, thick, thin, day, night.

"does anybody have an extra pen-" he places his pencil case on your table.

you don't even have to ask him and he's already working on getting you whatever you want. swoon.

another thing that made you fall? he'll let you do anything to him

class is boring and you wanna draw? he'll give you his hands

wanna practice some hairstyles? his hair is incredibly soft and tame for that.

how about make up looks? wanna practice that? he's sitting cross legged on the floor of your dorm as you brush on whatever color on his face

he's totally fine with letting you do whatever you want. and you wanna know the best part? he only lets you do it.

DENKI KAMINARI

this man cracks you up with no fail

the way denki's so easy to talk to and have fun with makes you feel so safe and secure

he's got every kind of humor in his chamber

dad jokes? "what did the blanket say as it fell off the bed? oh sheet!"

corny jokes? "how many lips does a flower have? tu-lips."

dark humor? "why can't orphans play baseball? cause they don't know where home is!"

yeah- the last one you two whisper to each other during class and get sent out of the room for laughing too loud

you don't remember a day where you spent with him and you weren't laughing. you just feel so light and happy, he's like a drug to you

this dynamic between the both of you confuses people. some look at the both of you and think you're a duo misfit who constantly gets called out during class, and some give you teasing looks

when you started to notice these feelings for him, you couldn't help but grin at the thought of marrying your best friend.

what made you really feel for him though?

when you were sick for a day, your classmates came back to the dorms begging you to fet better quickly cause apparently the room was depressing

even katsuki cursed you out for being sick

apparently denki's mood affected everybody. and that mood was-

"today was tiring without you there." denki sighs, staring at nothing while the heat of his body beside you comforts you completely. it's always like this with him- warm, peaceful, happy.

"awe, did you miss me you big baby?" you tease, poking his side.

denki turns his head towards you, eyes holding a million words he wants to say, but for some reason, can't.

"i did." his eyes trail down your nose and to your lips. "so much."

your lips part, heart about to beat out of your rib cage. your mouth feels dry and you can't help the desire to tell him everything you feel for him- but you can't. you don't wanna risk ruining your friendship.

"yellow," he calls. ever since you laughed at his joke for the first time, he's been calling you yellow. he says your laugh magically brightens the room, the sight of your smile lifting the heaviness on his shoulder. "smile for me?"

and you do.

and he does.

and you know you're extraordinarily, remarkably, so very fucked when it comes to this man.

[wooahaes]

svt - pick-up lines

pairing: non-idol!svt x gn!reader

prompt: reader hitting on their partner with pick-up lines. for funsies.

genre: fluff. comedy? this is so silly.

warnings: bad pick-up lines. goofy silly hours teehee!! established relationship in all of these.

daisy’s notes: ive had these plans for a while. this is just me enjoying pick-up lines. theyre so silly goofy sometimes.

choi seungcheol

“cheollie,” you called out from your end of the couch. he looked up from his phone with a hum, and you kept a straight face. “do you believe in love at first sight?”

to your surprise, he mused over the question for a minute. “what? i don’t know, i think--”

you spoke up over him, trying to quell your urge to laugh: “do you believe in love at first sight, or should i walk by again?”

and he stared at you, brows furrowing together before it clicked. ah. you must have found pick-up lines online or something. “honey. we’ve been dating for two years. you don’t need to hit on me like this--”

“answer the question, cheollie!”

“no!” he laughed, “if you’re going to hit on me, then do one that makes sense!” 

yoon jeonghan

jeonghan hummed as he focused on cooking dinner... yet he heard the telltale sound of you making your way over, and glanced up. “hi, honey,” he said, before going back to his work. “it’ll only be a little longer--”

“hey. jeonghan.” he could hear the way you’re trying not to crack up over whatever you were about to say. “i hope you know CPR... because you’re taking my breath away.”

he looked up, half-expecting to see you holding your camera up, but instead you’re just smiling like an idiot. at least you’re his idiot, if anything. he gave you the tiniest once-over, before going back to his work. “your hand looks heavy... can i hold it for you?”

and immediately you cringed--something he caught out of the corner of his eye--causing him to laugh.

“you won’t win!” he said, looking at you. “i memorized some the moment i saw you googling them last night!”

“you cheater!” you said through your giggles, making your way over to steal a kiss from him. “ugh, you’re so mean!”

he chuckled against your lips instead. “and you’re still laughing.”

joshua hong

joshua had been doing the dishes when you sidled up to him with this goofy smile on your face. he glanced up for a moment, about to ask why you were smiling so hard all of a sudden, only for you to speak up.

“are you from tennessee--”

“babe. i’m literally from california,” he chuckled.

“no, shh,” you reached up to cover his mouth, “you’re ruining it--”

he chuckled, pulling your hand away, “i know.” and he abandoned his work, turning to you as he laned in. “and i’m gonna keep ruining it--”

“what? no!” you whined, “you’re so mean--just let me finish the line--”

he kissed you anyway, giggling when he felt you smile against his lips. when you started to try to finish the line when he pulled away, he merely kissed you again.

(you weren’t going to finish the line... but you didn’t mind it so much when every attempt was met with a kiss).

wen junhui

jun had been curled up on the couch, a book in his hands when he heard you call out to him.

“jun. junnie.” he looked up to see you approaching, phone in hand. “if i were a cat...” you looked up, smiling hard, “i’d spend all nine lives with you.”

oh no. oh NO. you were CUTE. maybe the pickup line was silly as hell, but you were adorable and it made him start to giggle. he buried his face in his book. “i thought we were past this stage!”

“are you a cat?” you pulled the book down as you crawled over, “because you’re purrrrfect--”

again, he started to giggle over your silly pickup lines. of course you’d pick cat ones. this man had a weakness sometimes and it was cats. the fact that you looked incredibly pleased with yourself only made this worse (or better? jun couldn’t tell which: your joy was great, but how was he supposed to live after this?).

counter attack time. he dived forward, quickly kissing you before breaking into more giggles. “are you happy now?”

with a giggle, you leaned forward, about to kiss him again. “very.”

kwon soonyoung

“soonyoung!”

your boyfriend looked up from where he was getting a drink from the fridge, suddenly caught off guard. did he do something? or... maybe you asked him for something and he was about to forget it? soonyoung could be a little forgetful, and usually you approaching him like this either meant he forgot something, or he did something. slowly, he pushed the fridge close, still staring you down..

“if you were a song,” you said, “you’d be the best single on the album.”

the fridge shut, and he could hear that hiss of it being sealed back as he continued to stare at you. wait. single? “are you breaking up with me?”

“what? no, soonie, i’m hitting on you.”

what the fuck were you talking about...? “honey... we’re already dating.”

“soonyoung--”

“ohh, right,” he twisted the tap of his water bottle. he lifted it to take a sip, pausing long enough to finish the thought, “you’re still bad at flirting.”

“soonyoung!”

he set the bottle aside as he made his way to you, “it’s okay,” he giggled. he reached out, pulling you into his arms. “i still love you and your bad pick-up lines.”

jeon wonwoo

wonwoo had been standing in the middle of the bookstore when you suddenly approached him, giggling. he could see from the twinkle in your eyes that you had something planned, and you reached out, patting his arm with a “hey, hey, wonwoo,” that told him immediately you’d been distracted while looking up the book you were looking for.

“yes?”

“on a scale from one to ten,” you said, “you’re a nine, and i’m the one you need--”

wonwoo blinked at you. “you’re not a one, though.”

immediately, your head shot up as you stared at him, suddenly embarrassed. as you swat at his arm, with a pouty “wonwoooo,” wonwoo giggled at you.

“you’re so cute,” he said. “did you find the book we’re looking for?”

he could see the light bulb over your head as you went wide-eyed, suddenly reminded your mission. “oh, right!”

lee jihoon

“jihoonie?” you called out, immediately getting your boyfriend’s attention as he was comparing two boxes of cereal. “if you were words on a page... you’d be fine print.”

... what the hell? he just stared at you, saying nothing as he tried to figure out what you were doing. was soonyoung around the corner? had you run into him and he pitched this idea...? or maybe it had been vernon. or mingyu. or... honestly, he had a lot of friends who teased him because his face went bright red whenever you teased him.

“if you were a vegetable,” you continued to read off of your phone, “you’d be a cute-cumber.”

this was even more confusing. he could see you were smiling. were you planning something? this had to be a prank. his face kept growing warmer by the second: of course you’d find cute pick-up lines to use on him. you didn’t even do this when the two of you started dating.

“if you were a fruit--”

“why are you hitting on me? we’re already dating.”

you had smiled to yourself again, that twinkle in your eye telling him that you were about to tease him again. yet when you looked up, you saw how red his face was getting. no point in letting this go to waste. “you’d be a fine-apple,” you finished.

and that immediately netted you jihoon whining at you with a quiet “stop, i’m going to die and then you won’t have a boyfriend anymore. do you want me to die?”

(... and of course, that meant you’d hit him with an angel-themed pick-up line minutes later after you found a suitable one.)

lee seokmin

"hey. are you a chicken?”

seokmin looked up from where he was sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his social media on this lazy afternoon. he furrowed his brow, thinking over your words again. you knew as well as anyone else that seokmin wasn’t the greatest with stuff like horror movies. he clung to you the entire time you went to a haunted house with him, after all. “i--”

“because you’re im-peck-able.”

he snorted after a moment, already smiling. “ah--really? you’re hitting on me like this?” he paused after a moment. “... aren’t you tired?”

you giggled, “nope! i still have more--”

“because you’ve been running through my mind all day.”

immediately, you yelled before diving forward, burying your face in his shirt. “that’s not fair!”

he laughed, bringing you into his arms as he sat up. “joshua told me that one once,” he giggled, “and i thought i missed my chance to use it on you.”

oh, of course he wanted to use it on you. what a dork. at least he was your dork.

kim mingyu

mingyu had been in the middle of cooking dinner when he heard you come in. he called out to you, asking how your day had gone. you’d made conversation easily enough as you slipped out of your shoes and into your house slippers, making your way into the kitchen. you leaned against the counter, watching him drop long noodles into boiling water.

“gyu.” yet when he merely hummed in response, you called his name again until he looked at you. “are you parents bakers?”

he furrowed his brows. “what? you know what my parents do, we’ve--”

“because you’re a cutie pie.”

he stared at you for a moment, words sinking in before he threw his head back and laughed. the pick-up line wasn’t so funny as much as it was his love for you that made him laugh. mingyu was utterly and entirely endeared to you in every way, and that included laughing at your silly little jokes. before you could even try to say another one, he made his way over to you, pulling you into his arms and kissing you.

“you’re so cute,” he giggled.

“it wasn’t that funny, you know,” you wrapped your arms around him. you’d save the other pick-up lines for later.

he squeezed you tight. “it was. because it was yours,” he said, giggling again. “really... i love you. you’re so cute.” he let go of you, stepping back to watch dinner. “dinner should be ready soon, by the way.”

you smiled, leaning against the counter once more. “i almost said something about your cake, you know--”

(which only earned you him yelling, laughing a little as he did so. god, he loved you.)

xu minghao

minghao had called out for you to come in once he heard you knock on the door of his art studio, and he’d nodded to you politely as you came in. without thinking twice, he continued his work, now acutely aware of the audience he had. he didn’t mind working in front of you--he trusted you to know that art was a process and the vision truly came together toward the end.

“hao?” you asked, sounding genuinely confused. “did you do something to my eyes?”

he furrowed his brows, looking over to where you were standing. “no? is something wrong--”

“because i can’t take them off of you.”

immediately, all concern for you evaporated because he saw the way you were smiling, the way you barely concealed your giggles now that he was looking at you. “are you done?”

your smile faltered. “oh. sorry, are you busy? i didn’t mean to--”

he giggled a moment later, so soft and airy. you’d always told him he had a cute laugh. “you don’t have to flirt with me,” he said, beckoning you over. he leaned in, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “i’m already yours.” 

boo seungkwan

seungkwan had been sitting across from you, coffee sitting in front of him, as he scrolled through one of his social media accounts. he’d been looking for a specific post to show you, listening to you ramble on about your day as he searched.

“hey. do you have a name?” you asked all of a sudden, immediately earning a confused look from seungkwan. “or can i just call you mine?”

his nose wrinkled as he gave you this look of disgust. “what? we’re already dating. what are you talking about?” he paused, looking around. “is someone recording this?”

you just giggled, watching him. “did the sun come out? or did you just smile at me?”

seungkwan, who was very much not smiling at you, actually cracked one at that one. “really? should i wait for you to be done?”

“yes.” you glanced back down at your phone, “do you play soccer? because you look like a keeper--”

seungkwan grabbed his coffee, getting up to leave you there. he heard your “hey!” as he walked away, smiling to himself. all too soon, you’d chased after him, taking your hand in his.

“i’m done,” you giggled. “but you are, y’know. a keeper.”

“i know,” he smiled, squeezing your hand. “and i’m yours, too.”

he’d have to find a pick-up line to use on you later, just to give you a taste of your own medicine... you’ll just never see it coming.

chwe vernon

vernon knew you were up to... something. you’d been skulking around, this devious smile on your face as you wandered to and fro, giggling to yourself. at first, he thought this had to be some kind of ‘look at this costume i bought our child’ (your cat) deal, since that had happened before (which was why you owned a sonic the heggehog onesie for said cat). yet you had leaned over the couch, watching him for a moment.

“hey.”

he raised a brow. “hey?”

“if you and i were socks, we’d make a great pair.”

he rolled his eyes, settling back into the couch. “i think we’d have like. a sick pattern, too, actually.”

you pouted slightly, apparently not satisfied with his reaction. “if you were a triangle,” you said, recovering well enough, “you’d be acute one.”

he looked up at you again. “babe, i don’t remember geometry.”

“oh my god.” you buried your face in your hands for a moment. again, you recovered. “hey. what’s it like to be the most gorgeous person in the room?”

“i dunno,” he leans up, “what’s it like?”

you shoved your face into your hands again, letting out a groan as he laughed. this was what you got for leaving your phone open to a page of pick-up lines with a boyfriend who was more than ready to beat you at your own game. he’d only hoped you’d try to hit him with something like that last one.

“vernonnnn,” you drew out his name in a whine. “i hate you.”

he giggled, leaning up to pull one of your hands away from your face, and pressed a kiss against your cheek. “love you too,” he giggled.

lee chan

chan had been standing by the produce when you came back to him with the bread, setting it into your cart. he stood right where you had hoped he would be, looking over sweet potatoes since they were on your grocery list.

“hey. channie.”

he merely hummed in response, setting another sweet potato into the bag.

“if you were a potato,” you nod toward the one in his hand, “you’d be a sweet potato.”

he looked up, a little confused. “okay? thank you?”

“if i could rearrange the alphabet--”

“oh no.”

“--i’d put U and I together.”

chan let out a sigh, a smile breaking out as he hung his head for a minute. he looked at you again, still smiling. “are there more? i’ll wait if there are.”

you just wrapped your arm around his, pressing your side against his. “nope,” you said. “just wanted to see your face.”

he chuckled, shifting just enough that he could comfortably continue gathering sweet potatoes. “you didn’t put these on the list so you could use that line, right?”

“nope,” you hummed. “just seized the opportunity.”

he chuckled. “good to know,” he planted a quick peck on your cheek, still smiling to himself. at least he found you cute.

taglist: @twancingyunhao​ @synthetickitsune​ @wonuziex​ @gyulbabie​

[thecharacterchronicler]

The Bitter Taste Of My Fury (Part 4) || Coriolanus Snow X Reader || Smut

GIF is not mine, credits to the creator/owner ❤️

Outline: After a vicious attack from the rebels, Coriolanus lets some of his true feelings for you show.

Word count: 5’133

Warnings: death, murder, PTSD and explicit smut.

Author’s note: I wrote this forever ago and can’t seem to be 100% satisfied with it for some reason, I’m feeling awfully self conscious putting this out so please have mercy on me.

I made a few changes to the original story so that it would fit with my fanfic. (Making the quarter quell for which they sent two boys and two girls the 25th one instead of the 50th so that Coriolanus and his wife’s ages would fit into my plot.) I tried to make it readable as a one shot but keep in mind that it’s actually part of a multi-part series if you need/want more context.

It would help me out a lot with my next WIPs if you could answer the poll down below 🖤

((Part 1 - There Will Come A Ruler)) - ((Part 2 - Snow Lands On Top)) - ((Part 3 - Insatiable))

Coriolanus risked a glance from behind the black curtain to survey the large amphitheater quickly - and noisily - filling up. It was his last speech before the day of the election, his last opportunity to convince the people of Panem that he would be a good president. He had been working on his text for weeks, the last few days he had even stayed up all night to practice and memorize it to the point that the words were constantly turning in his head. He was nervous and, even if he usually was pretty good at hiding it - he felt like all the citizens taking place in the room to listen to him would notice how much he was afraid of messing up.

“You’re supposed to go on stage in five minutes.” Minerva said, Coriolanus’s young assistant was stressed out, as per usual. “Excuse me Sir, but I couldn’t help but notice that your wife isn’t here… Yet ?”

The last time Coriolanus had seen you, you both got into an argument which ended with him, fucking you rougher than what he ever allowed himself to until then. Once he was done with you, you still seemed upset with him and the reason of the dispute still grated on his nerves. For the three following days, he had spent his nights at his office. He had been mulling over what your strong feelings about such a futile matter might mean. He had expected you to be unhappy with his decision to fire Marius, your driver, but he hadn’t thought you’d be so vocal about it, even daring to demand that he be rehired. He had fired a lot of his employees in the past and you had never complained about it once, but your personal driver seemed more important to you than all the others… Was it because you had an affair with him ? Was he the one to provide you with comfort and attention whenever Coriolanus worked late ? And what if he was the one who ended up getting you pregnant ? Surely he couldn’t accept that. His heir needed to be his.

“I sent Alastair to get her an hour ago, they should arrive any minute now.” He replied, his tone unexpectedly soft in contrast to his growing irritation. But he had faith that his own driver would drag you out of the manor himself if you refused to attend such an important event for your husband.

Coriolanus glanced in the amphitheater once again, scanning the crowd in search of your familiar face but still didn’t find it. He tugged on his collar, feeling more stressed than ever before. He knew every word to his speech, he knew exactly how to behave, how to move, how to smile to win this once and for all and yet, beads of nervous sweat were forming on his forehead, his tie suddenly too constricting for his rapid breathing.

When Minerva waved a hand at him, he had no choice but to take his place at the center of the stage, even if he still hadn’t spotted you among the crowd. It was unlikely of you to be late. And even less likely that his driver would be late… The applause and cheers from his audience as he walked out from behind the black curtain almost made him forget about it all though. For a brief moment, he felt the adrenaline buzzing in his body, making him believe that he was capable of anything and proving yet again that his place was there, on stage, at the center of everyone’s admirative attention.

He smiled, waved, spotted a few influential people seating in the first rows and made sure to make eye contact with each of them as he started his speech. His best one.

But no matter how perfect his tone was, how carefully chosen his words were, the crowd slowly began to grow agitated. A few heads turned to take a look at the doors, some noise coming from behind them and before he could even fathom what had happened, an intense blow pushed him back, making his ears ring.

The loud explosion made the foundations of the ampitheater tremble, windows shattered, pieces of the ceiling came crushing to the ground but the chaos that followed was by far the scariest part. People screamed in terror, rushing in every direction to get out, pushing and stepping over each other with no decorum left, the crowd had turned into a bunch of frightened animals and they all were individually fighting for their lives.

A door was opened and a thick dark smoke rapidly filled the room, making everyone cough and scream louder. Coriolanus pulled his collar over his mouth and nose, trying to filter the smoke he’d inhale and retreated behind the black curtain, knowing there would be a door for him to escape much more easily there, out of the frenzy and chaos of the crowd.

He rushed to the back, fleeing by the concealed door while his people kept fighting to escape the suffocating smoke. He looked around, trying to get his thoughts back in order to come up with a plan, he needed to find a way to warn your driver about what had happened, so that he could avoid bringing you straight into danger. Better yet, he could drive you far away from it.

He walked in hurried steps while the people who had managed to escape ran away, the magnificent and imposing capitol building menacing to completely shatter and tumble down into dust. Leaving and reaching the street outside was the best course of action to ensure his safety, but a part of him with visibly no instinct of survival, remained determined to look around in search of a phone or whatever device he could use to warn you. To make sure you’d be safe.

He reached the front desk of the town hall, searching among the fallen bricks and thick layers of rubble with the hope to find something that would work to contact your driver…

Alastair ?

Coriolanus blinked a few times, stopping his frenetic search of the desk to stare at the silhouette running to the doors, recognizing the bald head and small frame of his driver.

“Alastair ?!” He called, as loud as he could to be heard above the distant screams and cries. The man turned around to look at him, fear appearing in his eyes when he recognized his boss… So he kept running.

Coriolanus took off after him, his tall legs giving him a clear advantage to catch up on the older man. He pushed him aside, grabbing him by his collar and slammed him against a dangerously unstable pillar.

“Where is my wife ?” He asked, leveling his face with his so that he could stare at him with his most menacing look.

“The rebels, they attacked… It was an explosion.” Alastair mumbled, inconherently. Coriolanus purposely slammed him against the hard surface again, hoping the shock it caused to his head would bring him back to his senses.

“WHERE IS MY WIFE ?!” He shouted, making it clear that if he had to ask again he might knock him unconscious instead.

“I don’t know, it exploded… The smoke… I ran.”

“You left her ?!” Your husband asked him, rage dangerously starting to take over at the realization that the one he had trusted with your security had so easily left you behind to save his own life.

“I have a family.” Alastair justified, his voice weakening and his breathing coming out raucous and labored. What was that supposed to mean ? That he was more important than you because he had children ? Was he implying that you didn’t deserve to live as much as he did because you hadn’t gave him a heir yet ?

Coriolanus’s gaze fell to his hands, the ones he was holding tightly around his driver’s neck, squeezing with all the strength of his rage. The older man started choking, tried to fight his employer off but he wasn’t strong enough and the shock of the whole situation didn’t help him think rationally enough to hope win this fight for his life.

Tighter.

Alastair’s face became alarmingly pale.

Tighter.

Alastair’s lips turned blue.

Tighter.

Alastair’s body dropped down on the floor.

Dead.

Coriolanus took a step back, watching the limp figure on the ground with clear disgust but he wasn’t sure if he felt it because Alastair had abandoned you or for himself, for adding someone else’s blood to his already stained hands.

There was no time to ponder his actions anyway. The judgment of his morals would have to wait until he found you and got you to safety. It was all that mattered. So, while people were still running out of the falling apart building, he ran back in, straight towards the thick smoke.

He called your name, so desperate to hear your voice answering him but the fleeing crowd was way too loud and agitated for him to hope hearing it and let it lead him to you. But he kept shouting anyway.

Some of his employees found him, tried to convince him to turn around and leave before the ceiling would collapse on him but he refused, determined to find you, even with the smoke burning his lungs and irritating his eyes.

His head was spinning, if the first people he had ran into were wearing their formal attire, slowly he started recognizing the red academy uniforms he used to wear every day. Then, he noticed the colors of a rainbow dress, fading in the thick smoke in front of him. A long time ago, the person wearing it had ran to him to save him from a similar situation, now she seemed to be running away, impossible for him to catch.

Was she the one who had led this violent attack against him ? And now she was here, running around the debris like an untouchable wild animal just to taunt him ? Of course she did. All she ever wanted was to end him. Ruin his life. Ruin everything.

Real or not, he followed her path, desperate to see where she would lead him. He didn’t like the feeling it gave him though, the feeling of being an eighteen years old boy who knew nothing about anything anymore. A naive man, who thought his survival depended on other people rather than on himself.

“Coryo…” Your voice called, answering his calls.

He perked up with a renewed determination to make his way through the smoke and find you. Rainbow colors and blood red uniforms faded from his vision. You were close, so he kept shouting your name, frantically searching around him until he collided against you.

He knew your body well enough by now to instantly recognize you, no one fitted in his arms the way you did. He looked down at you, trying to decipher wether you were injured or not but the dust covering your skin and hair made it hard to spot any trace of blood. He turned around, wanting to go back on his footsteps now that your hand was secured in his but he stopped when he noticed you could barely keep up, limping and coughing after each wince of pain that deformed your face.

Without a word, he came back to you and picked you up, carrying you in his arms even if his lungs were about to give up too. If he was going to die today, so be it but not before he got you out of there.

A plea for help resounded next to you, the barely visible shape of a woman stuck under a heavy pillar outstretching an arm in your direction, begging for her life. Coriolanus looked at her but kept walking, collateral damages were inevitable.

Finally, the smoke started dissipating, replaced by fresh air that burned your lungs in an entirely different way. A large crowd had formed in the street, kept at good distance from the collapsing building by peacekeepers. Many pairs of curious eyes turned to you, recognizing the presidential candidate heroically carrying his wife away from a vicious rebel attack. Some peacekeepers approached, freeing your husband’s arms to carry you to safety. They brought you to a medical tent that had been set up, where professionals and volunteers were running around, trying to care for the many injured and wounded victims.

An oxygen mask was placed on your face, providing you with the air you so desperately needed while a young woman tried to make you as comfortable as possible despite her apparent overwhelm.

“I’ll find some oxygen for you too, Sir.” She promised Coriolanus but he shook his head, refusing.

“Take care of my wife first.” He asked, and the woman nodded before scurrying away.

Time seemed to slow down as Coriolanus spent countless hours in the armchair next to your hospital bed, watching over you, making sure you were taken well care of and mulling over his thirst for revenge. The rebels had crossed a line with this attack, they were clearly targeting him - and you - with it and that was simply unacceptable. His desire to become the new president of Panem was consuming him more than ever, thinking about the possibilities such a position would offer him to retaliate in kind against the districts. He could order the troops to bomb them, erase them from the map and the surface of the earth. He could decide of the fate of the very ones who committed the crime to try and kill him, he could set an example of what doom would be brought upon anyone who ever tried to hurt a Snow again… But he wasn’t president, yet.

However, his position as head gamemaker of the Hunger Games gave him quite a unique chance to keep the districts in check and remind them who truly held the power, after all, he had learned all the tricks from Doctor Gaul during the few years he had been working for her. He knew the only way to get his message to the rebels would be to answer in kind and make sure they’d know the fear of potentially loosing someone precious to them too…

A few days later, the doctors cleared you to go home so he decided to go back to his office and put his plan in motion.

As soon as he sat behind his desk, Minerva entered his office, holding a large file against her chest.

“I received the official report of the incident.” She announced, handing him the paper. He flipped the pages, brows furrowed and eyes rapidly darting across each paragraph.

“Twenty four deaths… And counting.” He read out loud.

“And I’m very sorry to tell you that I was informed that Alastair is among the victims.” She told him, which caused him to look at her, gravity etched on his face.

He had the perfect reaction. Not too emotional. Still professional. Believable.

“Do we know what happened to him exactly ?”

“The coroner said he died of asphyxiation from the smoke, like many others unfortunately.”

“It’s unfortunate indeed.” Coriolanus nodded, with a forced frown. “Make sure to send our condolences to his family.”

“Of course, Sir.” His assistant said, taking notes. “Anything else i can do ?”

“Yes… Call the press, I have an important announcement to make.” He stated, still more determined than ever to make everyone involved pay for what they did.

“And now, a message from Coriolanus Snow, head gamemaker of the Hunger Games and candidate for presidency.” The news anchor announced, as the camera zoomed in on your husband’s tired face, his brow furrowed and severity marking his traits.

“On Friday, people of the Capitol were the target of a terrible attack from an outlawed and violent group of radical people. We’ve lost precious lives and many of our citizens were gravely wounded during the attack.” Coriolanus spoke, solemnly, as the cameras shifted between different point of views of him. His voice was calm despite the rage displayed on his face. “Therefor, in retaliation, as head gamemaker, I have decided to make the 25th edition of the Hunger Games one that will remind everyone of the Capitol’s power… For this first quarter quell, each district will be required to send two boys and two girls into the arena.”

You watched your husband’s press conference on the television in the quiet and lonely living room of the manor, jaw dropping at his announcement. Was he taking advantage of the attack to give a lesson to the district, show his almighty power and advance his presidential campaign by gaining the Capitol’s support ? Or was he seeking out revenge for you ? Your chest tightened at the thought, could he care about you enough to be doing this for you ? Imagining you could be one of the reasons - among a thousand more important ones - for the punishment he decided to impose on the districts made your heart beat faster. With a husband so shy for words, a gesture like this one would speak volumes about how he truly felt.

You reached for the remote with a wince and turned the TV off, plunging the living room in darkness apart from the faint light coming from the crackling fire in the chimney. You stood with another wince, silently cursing at the doctors for sending you home without any meds to manage the pain you still felt so vividly in your body. If you had been a simple citizen, surely they would have kept you there longer, made sure that you were fully healed before letting you leave the private sector of the Capitol’s hospital but since the crowd of reporters, cameras and photographers was increasing with each passing day by the entrance of the hospital, they took the decision to send you home. Officially, it was meant to reassure Panem about the health of their potential future First Lady, show them you were as strong and courageous as your husband. But really, they just wanted to get rid of the public disturbing their other patients‘ peace.

You climbed the stairs leading to your bedroom slowly, and then sat at your vanity with a sigh. The reflection in front of you didn’t do justice to how you really felt. As soon as you had been discharged, a team invaded your room to make you look as flawless as you were always supposed to be, taking care of your hair, your makeup, your clothes, hiding any trace of the attack so that you could walk out, dazzling and smiling for the cameras. And of course you did just that. You managed to answer a few questions shouted at you with elegance and respect , offering sympathy to the ones who had suffered more than you did , smiling as some children handed you flowers and holding your head high just to let the rebels know that it would take more than this to bring Mrs Snow down.

But deep inside, you were a wreck. Images of the attack kept popping in your mind, you could still smell the smoke, feel it filling your lungs, suffocating you. You could still hear the screams, the cries, the shouts and the explosions. You could still feel the sharp pain in your shoulder when the column behind you collapsed and a heavy piece of marble hit you. You still had the bruises and the scratches on your skin from all the debris that flew in your face, even if they currently were hidden under a thick layer of makeup.

You slowly took it all off with a wipe, feeling almost relieved at the sight of the purple mark on your cheek and the other one on your neck, like a validation that you weren’t feeling so bad for nothing. You reached up to untie the sophisticated hairdo your beauty team had insisted on doing, but the sharp pain in your shoulder combined to the stiffness of your neck made it impossible to take more than two pins out before having to bring your arms down and take a deep breath to try and soothe the pain.

You had always considered yourself lucky to have such a big team of talented people to prepare you for every event you had to attend, sometimes they even got you ready and looking your best for simple shopping trips or private dinners if they expected you to be followed by reporters and photographers. But then, once the lights were out, the crowd long gone and the cameras pointed somewhere else, once you were back in the privacy and loneliness of your own home, then there wasn’t anyone to help you take off all this attire and help you be yourself again.

You were about to give up. At the moment, sleeping with twenty pins stabbing your scalp didn’t seem merely as painful as lifting your arm again did. But a movement in your mirror caught your attention. You lifted your eyes to the reflection, noticing a white silhouette, almost glowing in contrast to the darkness of your room, standing by the door, big blue eyes set on you.

You observed him quietly for a moment, unsure if he was really there or if it was yet another trick your mind was playing on you. Because you had a lot of visions of him lately. His face appearing in thick smoke. His voice shouting your name. His arms carrying you out of the chaos. His hand holding yours in the cold hospital room… You weren’t sure which memories were real or not. You couldn’t tell if he really had been by your side at the hospital this whole time or if you had just imagined his presence to reassure yourself. Were you imagining him there again so you wouldn’t feel so desperately lonely ?

“Let me help you with that.” He said, his tone softer than usual. He took the few steps in your direction, stopping behind you. You watched in the mirror as his fingers wandered in your hair in search of pins to take off, letting locks of hair fall down on your shoulders each time he removed one.

His touch was real. The heat you felt coming from his chest and radiating on your back was real. The expression of worry on his face every time he met your gaze in the reflection was real. He was real.

And instead of reassuring you like you thought it would, you suddenly felt invaded in your privacy to have him here, in your bedroom for the very first time. He shouldn’t see you like this, with your makeup off and your hair down, the bruises and the sorrow all too visible on your face. This wasn’t the image of the wife he had asked for. The wife who he wanted to impregnate. It was a pathetic reflection of a wounded and scared girl, wondering if she’ll ever be able to recover from such an horrific incident.

“I didn’t leave the hospital looking like this.” You felt compelled to say to justify how you looked in front of him, uncomfortable at the thought that it was the very first time he’d see you as you really were.

“I know, I watched the news from my office.” He simply said, focusing on finding the few last pins still tugging at your hair.

“And I watched your press conference.”

“What do you think about my idea for the quarter quell ?” His pale eyes found yours, silently gauging your reaction.

“I think a lot of people will love it, it’ll probably gain you many votes for the next round…”

“Probably but I meant what do you think about it ? Will it be a clear enough message to the districts that there will be hell to pay if they ever even think about hurting us again ?” He leaned closer, his breath brushing your ear. “Do you think all of Panem will now know that nobody hurts my wife without meeting the consequences ?”

You left out a breath, shocked by the rage you saw burning in his usually charming eyes. Either he was masterfully manipulative, wanting to make you believe that the decision he took to hold special games in retaliation was to avenge you, while it was, in fact, all about his career first. Either he really had done it for you, and the implications of such a revelation in regards to his true feelings for you were as terrifying to you as the first hypothesis was.

He remained quiet, removing his hands from your hair once he had pulled out the last pin and reached down to the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down with his pale eyes fixed to yours in the mirror.

Your breath caught in your throat. Was he trying to help you ? The zipper being in your back, you probably would have struggled to reach it, but the way he was taking care of it, so torturously slow, the tip of his fingers grazing the soft skin he revealed on his path made you question his true motives.

He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your neck, exactly where your heart started pulsing wildly in reaction. He pulled the fabric of your dress down, until it pooled around your hips. You saw him take a look at your reflection in front of him, the sight of the bruise on your chest and the other one over your clavicle setting his fury ablaze. He balled his fists tightly, as if he was trying to contain himself so you turned around to face him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

You didn’t dare consider that the reason for his anger was because he cared about you enough… But the way he relaxed into your touch made you wonder if you should.

He kissed your lips. Softly. Gently. Almost reverently, as if he was taking the full measure of what he could have been deprived of for the rest of his life with a different outcome of the events of that night.

“I will kill them.” He declared, a cold determination in his tone you had never heard from him before. “I’ll kill every single person responsible for this.”

He moved his fingers over the purple bruise on your chest, a featherlight touch that still caused you a sting of pain, to mark his words.

You remembered a quote you had studied in school, it said something like “pain is the only thing that makes us feel alive.” And, since it was written in your book and taught by your professor, you had always considered it to be true… Until now. Now you knew that there wasn’t anything else on earth that could possibly make you feel more alive than Coriolanus Snow and the way he kissed you, touched you and filled you up. And no pain would be able to stop your determination of feeling alive tonight. Maybe his way to cope from the attack was to hunger for violence and blood, but yours was to live.

You leaned towards him and kissed him with more fervor than he did. He returned the kiss but kept some restraint from the usually hungry and rough way you were used to having him.

“Don’t tempt me.” He groaned, against your lips. “Not when you’re hurt and still recovering.”

“I’m not made of sugar.” You assured him, with a soft smile but he didn’t return it, moving away to look at you like he had seen a ghost. Did he have flashbacks of the attack too ? Or something else ? He’d probably never tell you anyway, because he shook it off before you could open your mouth and ask him if he was alright, worry leaving its place to resolve on his face.

He walked to your bed, stopping at the edge and scanning your nightstand carefully as he slowly started unbuttoning his shirt. Then, he looked around, his eyes taking a moment to consider each object, each piece of decoration in your bedroom. It was the first time he entered it and although the way he threw his shirt on the floor and began unfastening his belt suggested he had other plans than simply asking you for a tour, he still took in most of the details of the only place where you could find privacy in your own home.

You stood up, removing your dress too and feeling suddenly very exposed to him. Your room, your face without makeup, your hair undone, your bruised skin, everything you usually kept hidden from your husband was now on display for him to see and you felt self conscious about it.

“Lie down.” Coriolanus demanded, kicking his pants off, leaving him with nothing on but his bare body for you to stare at, his skin almost as white as the suits he liked to wear.

You obeyed, climbing on the bed from the opposite side from where he stood. You let your head fall down on your fluffy pillow, breathing a sigh of relief as you noticed how the many aches in your body were appeased by the comfortable mattress under you.

He climbed on the bed next to you and it felt somewhat strange to see him there, in your room, on your sheets, naked. He hooked his fingers under the elastic of your underwear and gently pulled them down your legs, the lace fabric sending shiver down your spine on its way down your body.

He spread your legs open for him, and placed himself between them, sitting back on his knees. He looked at your bruises again so, instinctively, you tried to hide them with your arms and hands in fear that he might change his mind and leave you wanting. Thankfully, he had mercy for you and, even though he didnt seem quite sure about how to proceed this time - as if he was worried that he wouldn’t be able to tame his usual roughness - he slowly stroked the tip of his cock between your folds.

He guided it in circles, teasing your entrance every once in a while, pressing over your bud, spreading your growing wetness all over in its wake and you noticed how it made him harden too, his cock increasing in length and girth in his hand with each movement.

It didn’t take long for either of you to be ready for more. After all, it had been a whole week during which the only physical contacts you had shared was him holding your hand at the hospital or placing a chaste kiss on your forehead each time he had to leave you for a while, and that was if you hadn’t dreamed or imagined it.

No longer able to tease you, he ended up pushing his erected member inside you, finding its way in so easily it felt like you were made to fit him by now. He noticed it too, how easy it was for him to bury himself all the way in you until his balls were squeezed between your bodies and he sighed with contempt as your warm and wet pussy engulfed him fully.

You said his name in a panted breath, loving the way he filled you up with his hard cock and his eyes darted to yours, his gaze shining with lust. He moved, starting with short slides back and forth to make sure you could take it then, once he saw you close your eyes and bite your lip to conceal a moan, he got a bit rougher and faster, shoving himself back in with enough force to make the bed crack loudly.

“Yes!” You cried, as you felt his dick repeatedly hit the perfect spot so deep inside you, sending such pleasure through your entire body that you already felt close to coming undone. If there was any pain in your bruised body, you didn’t feel it anymore. All your mind could focus on was the intensity of his thrusts inside of you and the ecstasy building in your core in reaction.

He moved to hover over you, the change of angle making his strong movements even more intense. A moan fell from your lips but he silenced it with a hungry kiss, his taut chest pressing against yours.

He gathered you in his arms, holding your body tightly against his as he kept relentlessly thrusting inside you, swallowing all the moans that escaped from your lips with his desperate kisses.

You closed your legs around his hips, holding on to him as tightly as he was holding on to you. His thrusts lost their speed and intensity, but he still hit exactly where you needed him, making you whimper and moan with pleasure. His grip tightened and so did yours, both of you determined to never let each other go, him holding you like you might vanish at any moment and you holding him like your life depended on it.

He groaned, spilling his seed inside you with one powerful push. You dug your nails in his back, as his movements slowed down and your body contracted, your mind swimming in bliss.

He was panting, from his efforts and from the feverish kisses he kept giving you through it all. And yet he captured your lips with his again, in a much softer - almost loving - kiss. Then he set you free from his embrace, rolling on his side next to you and you istantly felt cold without the weight and warmth of his body on top of yours.

You shivered and he noticed, pulling the sheet over your numb body. You looked at him, wondering if he’ll stay the night. It would be the very first time you’d get to sleep with your husband. If the idea would have been dreadful to you just a year ago, now you wanted nothing more than to press your spent body against his and feel his presence as you drift off to sleep, knowing that you are safe with him by your side.

((More))

[imagine-shenanigans]

werewolf soap who was raised in a pack/healthy dynamics etc etc and is very very well versed in wolf life because hes got neices and nephews and he's got cousins who had partners turn... and he discovers freshly turned werewolf reader

maybe a victim of one of the enemies, but werewolves and creatures and such are still largely hidden from the public eye so he scoops reader up and reader imprints on him without realizjng it but Soap just knows. Immediately uses all his knowledge to make it worse, make reader more dependent on him, his poor sweet pup :( Doesn't know anything about the world. No matter he'll teach them :)

And reader KNOWS something is wrong but the wires in their brain from not being helped by a sire and imprinting on Soap are all crossed and mangled in the early stages of their transformation. Most wolves nowadays are born into it, because it takes a signifcant effort to turn someone (not just a bite in this case. I'm imagining like. exchange of blood of varying amounts but typically a couple cups worth at least bc lycanthropy tends to be blood-bound like vampirism) so his poor baby is just so confused and distraught, all sickly and needy and confused :(

He's more than happy to help of course, and poor reader KNOWS that Soap isn't being normal about it, some gut instinct says this can't be right, and he's way too into this, but they also didn't know werewolves were real until like. a week ago when some douchebag kidnapped them.

So reader is trying to be understanding but can't because they're also feverish and the longer the month goes on the worse it gets as they get closer to becoming an actual werewolf.

By the time reader has any inclination that Soap has been treating them like a mate, not even courting, jsut straight into it, it's FAR too late for them, his metaphorical and literal jaws have snapped around their neck and he's never letting them go.

and if we're throwing a lil ghoap x reader into it, ghost as a vampire or some other creature who also knows jack shit abt werewolves other than Johnny (who is a bad example and has also been taking advantage of his ignorance to press Ghost's boundaries until Ghost asserts dominance. Soap swears one day he'll win, even if it means losing. Ghost thinks it's cute but narrows his eyes at Johnny anyway.)

And Soap is using this cute, disoriented civillian who he's got on him at all times to brush right past Ghost's boundaries because rhwy were ALL given the order to keep an eye on them. So Soap just walks up to Ghost and tucks reader into his arms with a blanket wrapped around them and presses reader's nose to Ghost's pulse point so they'll get used to his scent. Says soemthing about training recruits, and Ghost thinks its awfully cute the way reader sniffs so curiously like a new puppy at him, memorizing his scent. Thinks the smug way Soap looks when Ghost lets reader sleep on his chest is cute too, but instead of coddling Soap like he does reader a bit, Ghost wants to make Soap beg for forgiveness, the man grinding up into the sole of his boot desperately.

Ghost just snorts and says "Pushing it, MacTavish." and continues to let reader sleep on his chest, aware only that Soap is up to soemthing but hasn't quite figured out what yet. (He's not up to that chapter in the book about werewolves he's been reading, but Ghost decides he'll put in extra time later.)

Meanwhile poor reader who is literally in constant pain/feeling sick/etc is now undergoing a significantly more painful process of imprinting on TWO people, and the poor wires in their brain are so jumbled they'll never escape (which is what Soap wants)

[opal-owl-flight]

can I ask about the poster "agent 3" kids story?

Yes you can and here it all is!! Presenting…

tldr: She comes from a family of big name actors in the industry, and shes been raised from hatching to continue their legacy. Its…a lot of pressure to put on a kid, especially one who just wants to make her (impossible to satisfy) family proud. Despite being surrounded by impossible standards, the fakest friends chosen for her, being given everything she can ever want (except what she really needs), and putting on a hundred masks for everyone in her life for survival’s sake in a cutthroat industry, she chooses to be kind.

more details under the cut!!

Her name is Sariwa, which means “fresh” . Named for her spring green tentacles and as a blessing from her parents that shed stay youthful, beautiful. a hope that she would be seen and be adored (as freshness implies coolness/popularity in sploonworld).

Shes hatched into the acting industry, with both parents being big in the industry. From hatching she was expected, trained to be an actor like her mother is. The media adores them, this “sweet little family”, but no one knows how nefarious everything is when the cameras are off.

The dad is neglectful, disappearing into meetings most of the time. The mom is a helicopter parent to make up for it. Pointing out every flaw that Sariwa apparently has in either performance or appearance. Never giving praise. Except when she performs “well enough” on stage. This instills in the child this need to make them proud. to…to make everyone happy. She becomes someone whose dependent on other peoples’ praise to function.

Shes given everything else, dont get me wrong. Every material thing she’ll ever need. all the big popular “friends” chosen for her. But…shes not allowed to turf. yknow. biggest event in an inkling’s life here in Inkopolis. and shes not allowed to go to school either. shes too busy memorizing lines for adverts or-

The second she turned 14, she was chosen as the lead role for Cuttlegear’s brand new show abt Agent 3. She looked exactly like the legendary hero, according to the sources. All her time went into this project. Thankfully, unlike at home…her co-actors were very kind. Her parents didnt choose for her this time. She was meeting actual people who dont put on masks beyond their job. the actor they got for Cuttlefish, in particular, is a very kind soul, defending her when the directors get too pissy with her performance. (Those are the only people she fears, tbh shes fearful of most authority figures.)

*Cuttlefish is also depicted as kind and supportive in the show. and in most games. Unlike the real Cuttlefish, which is kind of a loony old man who pushes ideas on young inklings. He still gives more support and kindness that 3s dad ever gave, but thats only RELATIVE to how little he gave in the first place. One can only imagine the longing this inspires in the real 3.

Sariwa…since shes hatched shes had to put on an act. Be the perfect little doll for her parents. For the world. But her friends here, they inspired her to…have fun with what shes doing again. To take off the mask (mostly beyond the clock). Breathe life in the character when she can. (But lets be real…shes getting 3 spot on with how many parallels they have with each others lives.)

But what is she beyond the mask, her role? She wasnt allowed to do anything beyond this. She was forced to depend on her abusive parents and their associates. She cant live alone beyond them. Not allowed to turf bc shes “a prim and proper young lady; above such violent drivel that only delinquents participate in”. They gesture to 3, whos one of the faces Squidforce uses in their promotions, and say (ironically.) that she must not become that. Face ripped to shreds and eye mangled.

No one knows they got that from the real war that Sariwa is pretending to show.

The show does its best to be an accurate telling. Child friendly, to a point. Horrifying things still get kept in somewhat. Things that will horrify a child on stage.

If Sariwa is terrified of the props, can you imagine how it was for 3?

————————

And once she realizes all of this. Once she gets out of this situation thanks to Callie, Marie, and 3 themself. Does she feel guilt? Guilt for depicting the horrors in a way that glorifies it instead? A part of a project that aims to make people complacent to the real horrors that churned below?

There is one thing Sariwa feels about 3, that I am aware of rn.

“Im glad, that out of every story I couldve told, Im glad it was yours.”

Just like 8, she sung this tale in her hearts. Just like 8, she used this to break out of this terrible situation, answering the call of the ones who promised her safety. A better life. Like the way she stage broke through that prop in the choreographed Octavio fight, she broke through the influence of those around her.

*She actually went off-script a bit in that scene. After she beat down Octavio, she held out her hand. Mostly to help the actor up. But then, without realizing, she spoke, she spoke of making things better between the nations. That maybe he doesnt have to steal the zapfish anymore.

Her time with the octoling actors, and hearing the stories from the ex-octarians, made her aware and know the fact that theyre people too. The directors kept it in. They knew that if they released this as they have planned it, there will be fuckign riots from the ex-octarians or the Inkling “sympathizers”.

She saw the value this story held, despite the subliminal messaging that she wished wasnt implemented. That she wished she wasnt a part of. She saw that its a tale of hope. A tale that inspires one to become the hero of their own life. A tale that inspires one to make the world a better place.

————————

So she was hatched and raised to make people smile, singing her songs and dancing their dances. Much like the clan singer that was 4, except the tradition is much more healthy compared to industry standard. And she didnt become as mean as the people around her, at least not internally. She put on a mean mask but she felt the void within. When she was given kindness for a long enough time, she put her walls down.

And just like the real 3, she underwent through the horrors of expectations she had to hold up, and trying to make uninterested parents proud. They dont see her as their daughter, shes just a means to an end. She had to wear a hundred masks to survive and it made her lose her sense of identity. She had to be mature, she had to take the shitty behavior of adults who expect her to be like one too. It made her lose grip of who she is beyond this role. Hell, they made her so dependent on their handouts that shes not sure she can exist beyond this hell. Much like how 3 struggles to know a life beyond their duty.

And much like 8, she used the story she was telling to break out and get herself in a better situation. She met with the real Agents 1 and 2 (without her knowledge) and asked. Begged. for help, after her show ended. (3 also kind of pointed the two in her direction. Bc cod knows how horrifying this industry is. Shes lucky she didnt get any of the grosser horrors ~~its bc I didnt feel comfortable writing such topics~~)

And then shes faced with the same problem all the real legends faced. What comes after the end? When the dust clears, what happens next? She wasnt given a damn choice, she wasnt allowed to try to learn things beyond this role. to be beyond an imagined agent 3. a soldier for the screen. who is she now, that shes out of that battlefield?

little does she realize that the real 3s asking the same question for themself.

[watermelonlovershigh]

Drunk Fighting and Forgiveness {part. 11} (housemate!harry series)

"Do you love me?" {part. 10} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

AN: i normally dislike writing angst but i gotta say, this was fun to write. so if you're into angst you'll love this. enjoy and make sure to reblog and leave your feedback. xoxo

This story contains: drinking alcohol, angst, lying, mentions of past hookups (m/m), jealousy, accusations of homophobia, apologies, forgiveness (kinda)

{ housemate!harry - boyfriend!harry - softrry - bi!harry }

word count- 3,027

For a date night, Harry takes you out to a gay bar where secrets of Harry's past are revealed, turning into misunderstandings and drunk arguments.

Several weeks have passed since that memorable night when both of you openly professed your love for one another, and the period leading up to tonight has been nothing short of amazing. You have been immersed in the honeymoon stage of your relationship; enjoying cozy moments, lots of sex, and regular date nights scheduled at least once a week. The only disagreements you've had were minor, such as Harry occasionally forgetting to put the toilet seat down or your habit of leaving strands of hair on the shower walls. However, that changes tonight.

Breaking your normal Friday routine of a movie with Chinese take-out, you decided to go to a local bar down the street. Have some drinks and dance a little. While you were in the bathroom getting ready, you shouted to Harry, "So which bar are we going to again?"

Harry was hesitant on telling you because he didn't want you to get upset at him. "Um, it's the one on the corner."

"Harry, there are fifty billion corners in London. Which corner?" You weren't nieve. You could tell Harry was trying to avoid answering and it confused you. Why would he be hiding the name of the bar you're about to go to from you.

Huffing from his stance now in the doorway of the bathroom, he answers, "Fine, it's called The Royal Vauxhall Tavern. It's a gay bar."

(i just choose a random gay bar in London from Google. so idk if this is even a good choice or if i described it accurately on the inside or not. let's pretend.)

"Not that I have anything against gay bars Harry, but why? I'd understand if we weren't dating because I'm sure there's tons of hot men you could find to hook-up with. But we are dating, so..... it's just an odd choice."

With a soft tone, Harry enters the bathroom and lovingly cups your cheeks in his large hands, reassuringly saying, "Sweetheart, you're overthinking it. It's just a bar. I've been there in the past and know firsthand that the customer service and music are fantastic. That's why I picked it, alright? Nothin' more than that." However, you soon come to realize that this assertion is completely false.

-------------------------

As you entered the bar, it was very nice inside. There were tons of people on the dance floor and several people at the bar. Harry held your hand and walked you over to the two unoccupied seats at the bar so you could order some drinks. You've never been in a gay bar before. Mostly because before Harry, anytime you went out to bars or clubs you were looking for a hook-up and you're sure a gay bar isn't the place for a women to find that.

Right as you sit down, a handsome looking man comes up to you both and recognizes Harry immediately. "Harry, mate, what are you doing back in here? Haven't seen you in ages."

You glance over to see Harry smiling from ear to ear. "Hello, Henry. Hope you're well. Yeah, I've just been busy with work and stuff." That's odd, he didn't even mention you.

"So, who's the lovely lady sitting beside you?" the bartender who's name is Henry, you just discovered, asked.

You were going to answer for yourself when Harry cuts you off, replying, "Oh, m' girlfriend, Y/n. Been datin' officially for about two months now."

Henry looks back to you again and speaks rather loudly due to the blaring music, "Well, hello, Y/n. Welcome. What can I get you two to drink tonight? Your usual, Harry?" So he remembers Harry's drink order.... Interesting.

"Yep, coke and rum and what would you like, Y/n?"

Thinking for a moment, you stick to what you know best. "I'll have a vodka cran, please."

Henry smiles, assuring, "Okay, a coke and rum and a vodka cran coming right up." You and Harry sat there and watched as he made your beverages. The whole time you still had this awful pit in your stomach like something was off but you ignored it, not wanting to spoil your night out with Harry.

---------------------------

Having reached your third glass of alcohol, you and Harry have been alternating between dancing and sitting for the past hour. You will admit that you feel somewhat safer in a gay bar, where the likelihood of unwanted attention or being drugged seems lower. Not impossible, just lower.

As you both return to your original seats at the bar, Harry mentions over the loud music that he needs to use the bathroom and tells you to remain seated. Despite his reluctance to let you out of his sight, his bladder cannot wait.

While Harry's gone to the toilet, Henry comes over to you and gets you a refill on your drink. When he returns with a full glass, he begins, "So, Harry, hm. He's lovely isn't he?"

You stare back at him with that pit in your stomach returning. "Um, yeah, he is. How do you know each other again?" Henry never mentioned how he knew Harry and Harry has never mentioned a Henry before either.

"Oh, we go way back. He use to come in here all the time back in his college days, when he was figuring out his sexuality. He didn't have a lot of money to pay for his drinks so I'd cut him a deal if you know what I mean."

"I'm sorry, guess I don't know what you mean." you respond, confused as to what he's trying to get at.

Henry chuckles and proceeds to elaborate, "Back in his uni days when Harry wanted to indulge in alcohol but lacked the funds, he would bring me along to the toilets and give me blowjobs. That's how he managed to cover the cost of his drinks. Although we never pursued a romantic relationship, I suppose you could say we were friends with benefits for a period of time, perhaps in the year... 201..." His sentence abruptly halts as Harry returns from the bathroom. Unaware of your discussion with Henry, Harry becomes perplexed when both of you gaze at him as if he has an unusual mark on his forehead.

To void the awkward tension, Henry grabs Harry's glass to give him another refill without asking and walks away. You're left there, stunned. Not that you cared what Harry use to do before you got together, but the fact that he brought you here, to this specific bar, where his ex friends with benefits worked, well, you find it kind of odd. Especially now thinking back to earlier when he was hesitant to tell you which bar you were going to.

---------------------------

After staying an hour more, you began feeling the urge to leave. The new piece of information has stirred up intense emotions within you. Despite your attempts to mask your anger, every time Henry approached to offer more refills, you couldn't shake the feeling that he was flirting with Harry. The uncomfortable knowledge of their past interactions made it difficult for you to sit and watch.

You briskly walk down the streets with Harry a few feet behind you, trying to catch up to you. You were both pretty drunk but not so drunk you couldn't walk straight. Just too drunk to drive. Hence why you're walking home. "Y/n, wait up. Is somethin' the matter? You seem mad at me."

You stop abruptly on the sidewalk and turn back to look at your boyfriend. Angerly, you question, "Why did you really bring me to that bar, Harry?"

Confused, Harry begins, "Baby, I've already told....."

"No, I don't believe you. I think it has something to do with that Henry guy. I know what the two of you use to do. He told me while you were in the bathroom."

Harry quietly curses to himself, feeling more ashamed than anything else. He fails to understand why bringing you there was a problem. His current concern is that you are now aware of a secret he had been keeping - the secret of his college partying days. He was poor and had just started exploring his sexuality. So one day when he went into that specific bar, he met Henry and well, you know the rest.

"Y/n, that was years ago. We never dated or anythin'. I really only saw him maybe once every two months. It's not my proudest moment but all my friends could afford to go out partyin' on Friday nights and I couldn't. So I did what I had to do to fit in."

Turning back around to continue walking, you exhale loudly and speak again. "Do you really think I'm angry about that? Because I'm not. I don't give a shit what you use to do before we started our relationship."

Not thinking clearly due to the alcohol running through his system, Harry fights back, "Is it because it was with a man, Y/n? Is this how m' findin' out you're homophobic?"

You come to a halt once more, but remain looking ahead. That hurt. You're not homophobic in the slightest. Unlike the tales Harry has recounted about his previous partners who were unaccepting of his bisexuality, you have always been different. You have consistently shown support for Harry's sexuality since he shared it with you. Initially, you assumed he was gay because during the first few weeks of living together, he only brought men home. However, one day he brought a woman home instead.

Raising your voice slightly, you argue, "I can't believe you're asking if I'm homophobic. You know I have always been a strong advocate for your sexuality. What really irks me is that you deliberately selected that bar for us to visit. The bar where you used to engage in transactions with the bartender to settle your bills. And now, he was the one serving us throughout the evening."

"Y/n, yes I knew he still worked there but I didn't know if he was workin' tonight, let alone he'd be waitin' on us. How was I supposed to know that?"

Underneath a lamp post on the side of the street, you continue to bicker, knowing bystanders are surely watching your drunk dispute. "Whether you did or not, you still choose to bring me there. Just tell me one more thing Harry, did he charge you the full amount for our drinks tonight or did he give you a discount?"

When Harry didn't reply right away, you already knew the answer and resumed your journey towards home. "Y/n, please wait," he quickly catches up to you, "I didn't even ask him to do it. You know I have enough financial stability to pay the full amount now. He simply offered us a discount without any prompting, and I didn't argue against it. But obviously, this time it was just the discount, not any favors in return. I would never do that to you."

You made the decision to remain silent for the remainder of your journey home. The thought of engaging in further arguments no longer appealed to you. All you desired was to change out of your dress and remove your makeup before going to bed. Despite his reluctance, Harry also chose to stay quiet. He ensured that you were by his side throughout the entire walk, fearing that you might unintentionally wander onto the wrong street or encounter a stranger who could potentially harm you. Even with the ongoing conflict, your love for each other remained intact.

---------------------------

Upon your arrival home, you immediately proceeded to your bedroom and closed the door behind yourself. Without hesitation, you began changing out of your dress and into more comfortable clothing. Your intentions were to stay in your room for the rest of the night, until the realization hit that there was no bathroom inside your bedroom. So, you're forced to leave your room in order to wash your face and brush your teeth.

Harry settles onto the sofa and quietly thinks about his actions tonight. Reflecting on the situation, he now understands why you feel the way you do. It was inappropriate of him to take you to the bar where he used to sleep with the fucking bartender. Despite all of that, the bar itself had a good reputation. That's why he went there frequently in the past, regardless of his actions there.

Though it's not an excuse, he genuinely didn't know if Henry was working tonight. Harry hasn't communicated with Henry in over eight months and their last sexual encounter was even longer than that. He honestly selected a gay bar for tonight to avoid straight men giving you unwanted attention. He would have gotten jealous. However, he unintentionally caused you to feel jealous, and for that he's deeply sorry.

As you exit your bedroom and make your way to the bathroom, Harry turns his head. He contemplates standing up to apologize, but chooses to delay it until you've finished your business. Meanwhile, he gets up and heads to the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water and a pain reliever for the headache he assumes you'll have in the morning. Just as he's about to finish, you emerge from the bathroom and return to your room.

Hesitantly, Harry walks up to your bedroom door and and knocks softly. Still in your drunk, grumpy state, you shout out, "What?"

"Um, I've got you some water you need to drink and somethin' to help with your impendin' headache."

"Fine, come in." you grant him permission to come in while you remain in bed. As he approaches, carrying a glass of water and a pill, you carefully take the water from his hands, and he places the pill on your nightstand, ensuring you have it in the morning.

When you've drank all you wanted, Harry grabs the glass back from you, setting it down beside your bed and begins saying, "I'd like to apologize."

Wanting to make sure he knows what he's apologizing for, you ask, "For what?"

Harry sits down on the edge of the bed and admits, "M' sorry for takin' you to that particular bar where I used to see the bartender. I honestly didn't realize he'd be workin' tonight, but that's no excuse. I just thought, if I took you to a gay bar that straight men wouldn't hit on you and make me jealous. But that was selfish of me. So again, m' truly sorry, Y/n."

The first part of his apology was fine, but that third sentence reignited your frustration. "Harry, what about you, huh? By us going to a gay bar, I have to face the potential of men flirting with you. But really flirting can occur in any setting, whether it's a gay bar or a straight one. That shouldn't have influenced your choice to go there."

Slapping his hand across his forehead, Harry nods. "I know, I know. M' sorry for that too. I honestly just wanted a fun night out with m' girlfriend but ruined it. Next time I'll let you choose where we go. But just so you know, if I see one of your ex's and they bring up what the two of you use to do, m' gonna be pissed as well." You could tell his last sentence was made with a playful tone, though deep down you know he's being serious.

You release a loud yawn and respond, your voice filled with drowsiness, "Okay, that'll make us even. I'm still a little upset with you though, so it would be best if you left now. Please sleep in your own room tonight." Despite having the thought that you might want to sleep separately, he hoped that after apologizing, you would reconsider. However, your stubbornness proves to be a hindrance, as you are not willing to forgive him that easily.

With a frown on Harry's face, he gets up from the bed and bends down to kiss your forehead before walking out of the room. As he leaves, he reminds you, "If you need anythin', just wake me up. I love you."

He hears a quiet "love you, too" right when he shuts your door and exhales, relieved that you're not mad enough to not say 'I love you' to him. Because if you were, he'd have been devastated,

---------------------------

Around four in the morning, you awaken to the realization that sleeping apart was a mistake. You haven't slept apart since before you shared your feelings for one another and you miss him. You miss cuddling with him. Finding out you both were cuddlers was one of the best possible outcomes as you started developing your relationship. It meant you were very compatible in that way.

You get out of bed and head towards Harry's room across the hallway. As quietly as you can, you open his creaky door to find him lying on his side, a pillow hugged to his chest, turned away from you. He's now use to holding you throughout the night, so his pillow had to make do since you rejected him earlier.

Closing the door gently, you approach his bed and carefully peel back the covers, not wanting to disturb his sleep. Harry only wakes up when he senses you moving closer. You carefully pull the pillow out of his arms and replace it with yourself, burying your face in his chest. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your back once he realizes it's you who's joined him, muttering in a gravelly voice, "Hi, baby."

Still very sleepy, you speak in a whisper, "Shh, sleepy. Just missed you s'all."

"It's okay, m'love. Go back to sleep. You can always cuddle me. Missed your cuddles, too." Harry's half conscious as he spoke but he's aware of what he said. He did miss your cuddles. He had to fight with himself just to stay put in his bed and not slip into yours. He just wanted to respect your wishes and not make you even angrier with him. It only takes mere seconds for you both to pass out again. All the alcohol you consumed the night before helping aid in that.

You know you have forgiven Harry but he isn't off the hook that easily. For his bad behavior, you'll just have to punish him. Give him what he deserves. 😏

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

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______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

"You've been a real, bad, boy." {part. 12}

[ghostsy]

Smile For the Camera

WARNINGS: yandere, implied kidnapping, implied imprisonment, abuse of power, slight codependency, non-consensual implications, implied nsfw, implied forced pregnancy, lot of implications lol

A/N: been sitting in the drafts for a while, figured i should get smth out, hopefully it's alright ^^

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER

“Her eyes are up there, creep.”

She had to resist the urge to sigh, lip twisting in slight pity, watching the boy stammer out an apology as he fumbled with the mic at her chest. She scoffed internally. Was he supposed to put it on blindfolded? She turned to her lover, giving him a gentle, reassuring smile.

It’s okay. I’m okay.

Crimson irises met her own, hesitating a bit as his jaw tightened reflexively. He smacked his tongue against his teeth, rolling his eyes, and turned to the host who was shuffling through her cue cards. Memorizing her lines, it seemed.

“I don’t want any of that surprise shit, alright?” His voice was laced with the sort of irritation that would normally send her on full alert. They were in public right now, though, and callous, gruff reputation aside, he was no idiot, “We’ll walk out; I’m not fuckin’ kidding, we’ve done it before.”

The host laughed out his name–his hero name–nervously, “Of course not, sir. All of our questions were sent to your assistant for prior approval,” As she caught his unimpressed stare, she stumbled out another placation, “But, I mean–Of course, if you–you’re more than welcome to look over them again, sir.”

“Fuckin’ stop it with that–‘sir’--makes me feel old as shit.” Did it? That was news to her. He certainly liked it when it came from her lips. Her mind wandered to its most recent recollection. When she was forced to her knees, his hand at the back of her neck, pooling the tears from her eyes at the dip where her cheek met the pillow–she couldn’t remember what she’d done wrong that time. 

Where he’d brought his lips to her ear,  C’mon, voice rough and deep, Ask me nicely, now, And, raising his voice a few octaves to mock her, Please, sir. He huffed out an ugly laugh, Please give me your cock, sir. God, she hadn’t been able to walk straight for days, legs and dignity sore and bruised from the abuse–only one of which ever really seemed to recover.

“Of course, si–Of course. We’re on in–We’ll be ready in five, if that’s alright?” He gave the woman a curt nod, and she’d shuffled off to the stage to prepare, calling the intern tending to her to follow, a direction the boy took with palpable relief, eyes brushing her own apologetically before he hurried off.

“Hey,” The blonde’s attention was turned back to her, and he stalked forward, “Last one, alright?” He brought his hand to her cheek in comfort, though all she could think of was the ease at which he could snap her neck between his fingers without so much as blinking.

She shook herself from her thoughts, humming, and brought her hand to cup his own, leaning into his touch. “It’s alright,” At least I’m outside, she wanted to say, “Long as I’m with you, I’m alright.”

His eyes softened at her answer, and he opened his mouth to reply when the lights dimmed, catching his attention. His hand dropped to catch her own, lacing their fingers together, tightening with tension. She had to resist the urge to wince. Though entirely different in circumstance, she felt slight vindication for his fear, no matter how fleeting. She’d take what little wins she could get. 

She was pulled back to reality by the tug of his hand, and let him lead her to the couch across from the host. Fuck. Looking out at the crowd, she remembered how much she really did hate these things. Hundreds of smiling faces, millions more behind the camera, all glinting with pity–for all the wrong reasons–and cooing at the sickeningly sweet story spun for the masses to cling to with glee, without question.

There was a call of her name, “And, how are you adjusting? After what you’ve been through,” What she’s been through. She suppressed a bitter laugh. As if it was all over, as if she was safe. 

“It’s been hard, of course,” She’d rehearsed the lines in the mirror, and recited variations in numerous interviews before, “But I’m so grateful, you know,” That didn’t stop the tears that fought their way up her throat, “To have him by my side–he really is–he really,” God, the words felt like acid on her tongue, “He really is my hero.”

The crowd awed, and the host brought a hand to her chest, “How beautiful,” She caught his side eye–suspicious–and she squeezed his hand in reassurance, “The two of you–really the silver lining in an otherwise horrible happenstance.”

She laughed lightly, ignoring the burn in her chest, “I’m so grateful. I don’t know what–I couldn’t imagine what I’d do without him.” She moved to wrap her arm around his own, leaning into his shoulder. Time had conditioned the contact to feel like a sort of comfort.

The host smiled, and turned back to ask him a question, something about how he’d found her, how he’d saved her.

How had he found her? She remembered meeting him a few times before–she’d worked for the number one hero, his childhood friend–and he’d never spared her more than a cursory glance, and the exchange of brief, formal pleasantries while she sat in on their meetings, transcribing, taking notes, just doing her job. 

“Was just doin’ my job,” Ha. Ironic. “S’what heroes do.” He looked at her for a moment, softly, and she wanted to tear his eyes out, “We save people and we fuckin’ win.” He gave his signature sharp, crooked smile, and the audience roared to life, hands clapping in misguided awe and appreciation.

How had he found her? What did she have that the millions of men and women and people that wanted him–that dreamed of him–didn’t? She wished she could erase it–tear out whatever part of her had captured his attention–maybe he’d have left her alone if she’d been able to kill it.

“The determination, the grit it must’ve taken,” The host started up again, “Years of searching, it’s truly amazing how you managed to save her.” 

How had he saved her? He liked to remind her that that’s what he had done. She remembered being called into work late–a normal occurrence, but she still cursed herself for obliging that day–being met, not by her boss, but him. Maybe she would have said yes if he’d gone about it differently–if he’d taken her out on a date, brought her flowers, spoke to her softly and gently–but he wasn’t ever soft, and he wasn’t ever gentle.

“M’not a fuckin’ pussy, that’s how. I ain’t backin’ down from a challenge just ‘cause it’s hard.” Yeah. He never backed down from a challenge. Though, he never stopped to think that maybe a challenge was not a dare, not something to overcome, that maybe the challenge didn’t want to be a challenge at all. That this challenge didn’t want to be a conquest, that she wanted to be a person.

“And you,” The attention was back on her, “How strong you are,” She hated that look; everyone she met these days gave her that look, “The fear and pain you must’ve endured is unimaginable.” Well, she was half right, she supposed. 

She was stupid to think she knew pain before–she didn’t know pain–not the kind of pain she’d come to call home these past years. The type of pain that came in the form of finger shaped burns, and ugly sticky white staining the inside of her thighs. The type of pain that was loud and angry and all consuming, that bruised her hips, rubbed her throat raw, left her aching and shaking and breaking. The type of pain that took and took and took until there was nothing left of her to give–and yet, still took more.

“Hopefully there’s some consolation,” The woman continued at her silence, “That the people who did this to you–who imprisoned you–have faced justice.”

She wanted to laugh until she screamed. She’d long been disillusioned with the idea of justice. Justice. Ha. What a joke. She’d made her peace with the hand she’d been dealt. Resigned herself to what cruel fate the god she didn’t believe in had bestowed upon her. Why then, why now, had he graced her with a window to her prison? She knew why. Subconsciously, her hand fell to trace along her stomach.

“It’s…relieving, to say the least.” She forced a laugh, and caught a look she took as approval on her warden’s face. “All I want to do now is settle down, move on…” She swallowed. Come on. You’ve done this a million times. “Start our family.”

He took his arm from her grip to wrap around her shoulders, flashing a sharp smile, “That’s my fuckin’ girl,” Her cheeks heated–more from annoyance than embarrassment–but the crowd awed all the same. “Strongest damn person I’ve ever met.”

Strong? That was a new one. Usually she’d get the opposite; weak, helpless, quirkless. Was she strong? She could find a million reasons to contradict the idea. Someone strong would’ve fought, would’ve kicked and screamed and cried until someone–anyone–listened to her, until she truly was free. She’d rolled over and shown her belly so easily, hadn’t she?

No. She did fight. She’d gone through all the kicking and screaming and crying she could. But the years had worn her down. She found it was easier–and less painful–to let him have his way. He could be soft when he had his way; he could be gentle when he had his way; she decided she liked it when he was soft and gentle. And so, he had his way.

Still. Someone, not her, could make the case that she couldn’t be strong at all, to go along with this farce. And to this person she’d point them to–

“The Hero Commission truly is an outstanding institution,” The universe had a sick sense of humor, didn’t it? “To keep a case like this–no leads–open so long,” The host smiled a smile with too many teeth, “We are so lucky to have the protection from such noble leaders.”

He replied, something about heroes and how great and strong and infallible they were. She was too busy fantasizing about how lovely the world would’ve been had it been turned to ash and dust all those years ago. 

Because, honestly. How bad could the villains be? If it was a hero that had imprisoned her. A hero who had stolen her from her life and raped her and impregnated her all in the name of love. How bad could the villains be if it was the heroes who kept her trapped in this joke of a life? She decided she liked villains more than heroes. At the very least, they owned up to their crimes. 

She turned to look at him, his sharp features, built like a tank, and yet, still entirely too pretty for the devastation he had wrought upon her. She couldn’t tell if he was a hero or a villain. She couldn’t tell if she hated him or if she loved him. 

“I ain’t into all that sappy shit,” He started, “But, end of the day, I’m the luckiest fucker in the world havin’ her here with me. Wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”

Both? Maybe it was both. Could you hate someone you loved? Could you love someone you hated? He lifted his arm to ruffle her hair, and she decided it didn’t matter. She’d long resigned herself to this fate; what was another resignation?

“No,” She turned as the audience roared to life, “Not a single thing.”

And she smiled for the camera.

[ashwhowrites]

Smut prompt 30 with Dom Robin, please?

Where Robin basically worships reader's big boobs and so she sucks them SO hard, and basically do nipple orgasm with reader?

"I don't want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do"

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

(•)(•) Love

Y/N and Robin were in that stage where they were madly obsessed with each other. Y/N was the more quiet and shy one in the relationship. She wasn't used to being seen as sexy and the feeling of being desired. Robin talked...a lot, and was not shy of her opinions. If there was something she liked about her girlfriend, Y/N knew.

Which is why Y/N knew that Robin worshiped her boobs. Robin got lost in how soft they felt, memorized by the way her nipples hardened, and how big her boobs were. Robin wouldn't lie, Y/N's boobs were her favorite place to focus on during sex. Robin loved them in all positions. When Y/N is under Robin, her back is arched so her perfect round boobs were right against Robin's chest. Or when she was on top, bouncing and Robin's eyes locked on them.

But Robin was not the only person who admired Y/N's nice chest in everything she wore. Boys will be boys, and boys will stare right at her.

~~~

Robin and the gang arrived at the pool. Dustin, Mike, and Lucas excitedly stripping off their shirts and diving into the pool. Steve grabbed their shirts and brought them to the spot Robin had claimed.

"These kids never clean up after themselves" Steve groaned, tossing the shirts on an empty chair

"Oh Mom, let kids be kids" Eddie teased, stripping his shirt and adding it to the pile

Steve rolled his eyes but let the comment go, adding his shirt to the pile

Robin slipped out of her tank top, the warm sun soaking into her freckled skin. She felt eyes on her, cheekily turning to her girlfriend who sat on a free chair. When Robin's bright blue eyes met hers she quickly looked away.

"Already caught you, princess," she teased, loving the way Y/N got shy and tried to hide her face in her hands. "Wanna sunscreen me up?"

Robin smirked as Y/N stood up and eagerly grabbed the sunscreen. Robin was known to run the ship in many friendships. Look at her and Steve, Robin's way was always the right way. Robin enjoyed having that same power over her shy little girlfriend.

Robin moaned to herself as Y/N rubbed the cold sunscreen into her skin. Robin tried to keep her thoughts clean as she felt Y/N's fingers sliding under her swimsuit straps.

"I think I'm turned on," Eddie said as he laid back on his pool chair, arms behind his head and sunglasses covering his eyes

"You're a pig, Eddie" Robin sassed, but she knew Eddie meant no harm

"Come on Rob, I need someone to do me" he pushed up his glasses so he could wink at the two girls

"Ask Steve" Robin argued

"No thank you" Steve laughed as he rubbed the sunscreen over his hairy chest

After Robin was covered in lotion, she turned to her girlfriend. Y/N was still wearing her shirt and shorts.

"Need help?" Robin flirted, her hands on Y/N's stomach as she slowly moved down to her shorts

Y/N squeaked and gave Robin a look, "there are children here" she said as she swatted away her hands

"Yeah yeah, but come on, you can't swim with all those clothes" Robin teased

Y/N took off her shorts, and then her top.

Robin's eyes latched on the exposed skin of her girlfriend. Blue eyes focused on the way Y/N's boobs were barely held together from the thin bikini top.

Of course, Robin wasn't the only one to notice. Eddie and Steve tried to sneak subtle glances over, looking more than once. Steve wanted to be respectful of his best friend's girlfriend so he quickly left the situation.

Robin applied the sunscreen on her girlfriend, not shying away from rubbing it all over her chest

~

Robin tried to keep her jealousy in check as every boy turned his head to watch her girlfriend walk by. She knew with a sexy girlfriend times like this would happen.

Robin was glad the pool day was over and they were back at Robin's. She could have her girlfriend to herself.

"Cannot wait to wash the pool off of me" Y/N said as they walked into Robin's house. Robin agreed and they both made their way to the shower.

They helped each other strip naked, stealing kisses as they waited for the water to warm up. Y/N shivered as Robin's hands moved over her body, teasing her as she skimmed closer to Y/N's cunt. But she backed away, smirking as she walked into the shower

Y/N caught her breath and joined. She slipped behind Robin and kissed her back.

Y/N hummed as she soaped Robin's body and washed out her hair, trying to ignore how turned-on she felt from being wet and naked with her girlfriend.

They swapped places, and Robin rubbed the soap into Y/N's skin. She turned her around, face to face as she softly pressed her lips against Y/N's.

The kiss got heated as Robin let her hands wander and slip inside Y/N's cunt. Y/N purred in Robin's ear as she clenched around her. Robin pushed her against the wall, her mouth making its way down to her chest.

Robin softly fingered her as her lips kissed Y/N's left breast. She kissed all around the skin

Then she softly sucked the top of the skin, then the left, then the right. She sucked hard, the skin sucked inside her mouth. She moaned as she sucked as hard as she could.

She pulled back, admiring where the start of marks formed. Then she moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention. Robin's fingers knuckle deep as Y/N panted.

"Fuck Rob" she moaned

Robin hummed around her skin, smirking as she moved to wrap her mouth around Y/N's wet nipple. Robin bit her nipple softly, loving the way Y/N gasped and arched her back. She sucked softly on her nipple, almost like she was wishing for something to leak out. Y/N whined as Robin's warm tongue swirled around her nipple. Her cunt was empty as Robin moved her hand to play with Y/N's ignored breast.

One mouth on the other and her fingers pulling the other. Y/N felt like her brain was melted as she tried to stand on her feet.

Robin pulled back from her breast with her teeth, watching as her nipple stretched out until she let it go, watching as it smacked into place. Then she moved to the other one, sucking the nipple as she did with the right.

Robin used her fingers to pinch Y/N's nipple as her mouth sucked on the other one. Once again sucking it so hard. Then she bit down on it, and Y/N hissed as the pain traveled throughout her body.

"Rob, please finger me. I want to cum" she begged, her words heavy as she panted.

"You can cum, but not because of my fingers," Robin said as she released Y/N's nipple. Now using both hands to massage the skin

"What?" Y/N whined, her brain too fucked out to understand what was going on. Her cunt pulsed and that was all she could focus on.

"I'm going to make you cum just from this, you can do it for me. I know my pretty girl can," Robin cooed, rubbing Y/N's nipples with her thumb and pointer fingers

"Robbbbbbbbbb" she whined, throwing her head back as she bucked her hips forward. But Robin ignored it

"That's it, gonna cum for me?" Robin whispered, her husky voice made Y/N whimper and nod

Robin pinched and twisted both nipples at the same time, watching as Y/N's jaw fell open and a silent scream left her lips

"That's my good girl" Robin praised

"I don't want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do" Y/N sighed, a fucked out smile on her face

[phoenix-bleh]

I have a request: How about Shadow Milk Cookie with a reader who makes a play for him? Could be a play about him, reader's adventures or anything else in general, you decide!

This is a whole fic omg

Shadow Milk Cookie has always been doing plays for you on his stage, so you thought it would be nice if you did one yourself and showed it to him. You went to the little craft store 10 blocks away from your house. When you got there, you looked around for a bit and saw so much crafting material. You didn’t need much though, so you left with some cardboard, color paper, markers, and other fancy stuff for cool effects.

Once you get back you immediately speed walk into your room. You plan on making this a surprise for him. You wrote down on paper a whole script on things he might enjoy. You cut out cardboard, glued paper together, and worked as hard as you could being as precise as possible. In the end you had a cardboard stage and a bunch of paper figures. You sighed and looked at your work “I wonder if my acting skills are any good….”

Now that everything was ready and you memorized the script, you began setting everything up and waited for his arrival. When he did show up he was so excited. When he heard that you made a play just for HIM?? He wasn’t used to it, since he was always the one putting on a show. He felt much appreciated. 

You told him to sit in front of your mini cardboard stage while you get everything else ready. While he was waiting for you he stared at your set up. He giggled a little to himself. He thought it was adorable how much effort you put into the props.

When you came back you sat behind your cardboard stage and started your play

“This is a story about an ordinary cookie but little did you know their life was gonna take a whole different turn!”

The story goes one day a cookie named y/n decided to be a bit more adventurous than they normally are. They decided to go explore the dark forest, for they heard rumors of big beasts and strange creatures that roam the dark land. However this cookie wasn’t truly aware of the extreme dangers of the forest. “This forest is pretty. I should explore this place more often!”   

(Imagine during the play you lean on the cardboard stage a bit too much and it ends up flopping onto the ground. You're looking straight at him while he’s laughing his ass off)

The clueless cookie ended up going deeper into the forest, more than they should have. They didn’t notice a group of spores trailing close behind. Luckily someone had pulled them aside. Looking at who grabbed them it was none other than Shadow Milk Cookie! “What is a cookie like you walking around this forest? Don’t you know how dangerous it is here, have you not heard of the rumors?”

Before the cookie could respond back to him they both got attacked by a group of spores. He quickly pulled them behind him and started defending against them, getting a good strike on them every so now and then. He then grabbed the cookie’s arm and ran past them as fast as possible. Eventually they ended up near the end of the first, safe from any other creatures. “Omg when I heard of the rumors I didn’t believe they were true”

The End.

You ended your quick story and took a peek behind your stage to see if he actually enjoyed or was disappointed. You saw him with a big old smile and cheering and clapping for you saying how amazing you did. You stood up and bowed like what he would do. He ran up to you and gave you a big squeeze. “You know? Me and you should start doing plays together! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

–bonus shadow milk’s reactions during your play–

He was most likely silently laughing at your bad impression of him and the funny movements you gave the paper puppets.

You did make some noticeable mistake during your play like forgetting the script and forgetting which puppet you were holding, which he found hilarious 

Other than that he genuinely thinks you did amazing and praises you for your creativity telling you “You’re almost as good as me!”

[icallhimjoey]

The Boy Is Mine (icallhimjoey's edition)

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Joe has work and cancels plans but, you know what, you can just come over and help him out, can’t you? It's nerve-racking and embarrassing but, ok fine, you can come over and help him. CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, anxiety, we make fun of joe because he’s a dork, full fluff

Author’s note: i had fomo for @carolmunson’s the boy is mine writing exercise, so i just went ahead and gave it my own rpf spin. pls go and read all the other wonderful editions here!

Wordcount: 1.8K

“Okay, so, to set the scene,” Joe was being exceptionally theatrical tonight. He’d sat you down on the sofa and used the floorspace on the other side of the coffee table as his stage. It was all big arm gestures, and exaggerated faces, and big steps, and this was meant to be serious business.

It wasn’t.

You could tell Joe was a little nervous, which in turn made you a little nervous too.

You’ve had to suppress a smile ever since you walked in and couldn’t seem to stop giggling at things that usually wouldn’t even remotely tickle you, big ball of nerves.

“We’re in a trailer. Think, a big holiday park. Sort of dreary, it all looks the same, just, caravan after caravan after cara–”

“You’re talking to me like I’ve never been on holiday before.”

“Well for all I know you haven’t, Miss Workaholic. I’ve never seen you put down your work–”

You shut him up with a hit of a throw pillow to his face. Joe didn’t even flinch, just let it hit him square in the face and drop to the floor before giving you a blank stare for a second, all unimpressed.

Made you laugh. Again.

“Okay. So. Trailer park.” Joe made big eyes at you like a teacher would, directing you back to the task at hand. To why you were even there in the first place.

“Trailer park.” you repeated, sitting up a little, being a good student.

Joe frowned as his eyes had to focus on the script he was holding, turning a page and then flicking it back.

“Yes. Trailer park.” Joe confirmed absentmindedly.

He took another moment to seemingly find what he was looking for, eyes scanning before he reached up to pull his glasses from his hair. You sat pretty and waited.

Everything about the situation was objectively hilarious.

Joe had had to cancel on plans he’d made with you because of some changes in his schedule and now he had to learn lines at the speed of light meaning he couldn’t take you out for a drink. You didn’t mind – yes you did – and you’d casually said you could come over anyway. Help him out. Read lines with him.

“You’d do that?” He’d asked, carefully hopeful.

“Yea course!”

“And you’d like that?”

“As much as hanging out with you in general is a massive chore,” you’d joked. “It totally beats sitting at home by myself all night.”

And so you’d been invited over.

And now, Joe was nervous. He had just the one script, and handing it over to you meant that you’d see the little notes he’d taken. The scribbles and the arrows that pointed to more little notes, and for some parts even little sad or happy smiley faces. It would reveal a bunch of uncool shit about himself, not to mention the fact that Joe was breaking rules. None of this was meant for your eyes.

“Traiiii...” Joe was having a hard time finding what he was looking for and you started to grow impatient.

“I think we’ve got the location down.” you laughed, then suddenly your face dropped and turned faux serious. “Or, sorry, is this part of it? Of how you learn? Is that why it takes you fucking ages to–” you had to duck to the side as Joe threw the pillow you’d launched at his face earlier right back at you.

“If you don’t stop, we’re going to have a problem.”

Joe handed you the script, pointed from where you were going to read lines together, and then picked up a small notebook from the table.

He cleared his throat, gestured with a hand that meant, calm down, and then started the scene.

You read from the page, and Joe tried to do the scene from memory as much as he could, only occasionally glancing at look at his notes.

It took a few lines for you to actually calm down. To feel the jitters inside of your body slip away.

Joe was blushing still, though.

He’d never done this with you before, and he definitely felt silly, playing pretend with a pretty girl in his living room. But when you kind of started getting into it, found focus and fed him little words when he got stuck, it turned into actual acting.

You stayed seated on his sofa, eyes on the page, and Joe was all over the place. Pacing, using wild arms, facial expressions all over, repeating lines in different ways when they didn’t feel quite right after saying them the first time and... this was actually kind of fun.

And then props were introduced, but all wrong.

Joe needed to make a call, the script said, and he just grabbed the remote control of the TV as his pretend phone.

You stiffled a laugh, just about.

Then up next, he grabbed a nice crystal wine glass, held it out to you and it became more and more difficult to keep your giggles inside as you read ahead at what he was about to say.

“I ran out of nice cups, is this okay?”

You pretended you were handed something atrocious. Or, well, you tried to, at least. It was becoming very apparent who was the real actor in the room. When the script called for a bite of cake, something that would leave vanilla frosting on his face, Joe just perfectly mimed the action, and you were shocked at how you could see it.

There was nothing there.

But there was, though.

Wild.

Joe barely had to look at his own little notebook the longer you went, yet your stumbling and stuttering through lines increased as you read them aloud. It slowly shifted the anxiety from Joe over to you, and you didn’t like it one bit.

It felt silly, because Joe’s growing confidence didn’t have to mean that yours slowly withered, but, that was exactly what happened.

Joe noticed and in a bid to make you relax, he moved around the coffee table before sitting down on top of it, right in front of you.

“Here, take it back a little,” Joe folded a page back in the script that you were still holding, and pointed, his voice soft and gentle. “From here again.”

Joe had pointed at one of his own lines, so you kind of waited for him to start. But then he stayed silent, and when you flicked your eyes up at him, he was smiling.

“You’re holding the script. You lead.”

Oh. Yea, okay.

You went through the same bit of a scene again, this time with your knees touching his. Joe spoke in a much calmer voice, much lower this time around. The vibe shifted and now, it had you blushing.

Fucking adorable, Joe thought.

It made him want to grab hold of your face as you read. Press kisses all over your cheeks. The bridge of your nose. Your eyes.

There was not a chance in hell that Joe was going to actually get all his work done tonight, but if he was being honest, you’d already managed to do more than he’d expected beforehand.

You fucked up a line and went, “Wait, no... jesus,” and took a second to start over. When it was Joe’s turn to speak, he stayed silent again, and it made you look up at him, only to see him stare at you with the most lovesick grin you’d ever seen.

Disgusting. How dared he.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You knocked one of his knees with yours.

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” Joe said, not changing a single thing about the way he was staring at you.

You narrowed your eyes at him and had to try really hard to hide a smile.

“Are you... are you getting off on me not being very good at this?”

Joe laughed, said, “No, you’re amazing actually.” before he leant in a little, clearly going in for a kiss.

It had you moving back.

“Um...” you held a hand up before you jokingly scanned the page in front of you. Turned it to check the next one too. “There’s no kissing in this scene.”

“Um...” Joe copied you, and was quick to take the script from your hands, turning it around so he could get a look himself. “Yea there is, actually. Look.” Joe pointed at a random line, and before you could even get a proper look, he’d already flung it to the side and lurched forward to get his lips on yours.

You shrieked into it, trying to kiss Joe back just as much as you were trying to push him away.

Joe laughed, and so did you, and you were just pressing smiles together for a second, giggling right into Joe’s cackles. He had to hold your face in both of his hands to keep you close.

“Maybe,” you murmured around kisses, “This wasn’t the best idea. I’m clearly not helping.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. That’s not even true.”

Joe kissed you harder.

“Liar.”

“I’m not a liar.” Joe sat back and made a face. Looked like a real douchebag as he scrunched his eyebrows together and smirked. “I’m an actor.”

You laughed as Joe reached to pick up the script he’d thrown to the other side of the sofa. Folded the pages back and handed it back over to you.

“Okay. So.” he got up, clapped his hands together and walked back over to his spot in front of the TV, notebook now discarded on the sofa. He was going to try without it. “We’re in a trailer.”

You smiled at him as you watched him try his best to get back into the zone.

“Trailerpark.” you confirmed, trying your best to match Joe’s vibe.

Serious business.

You frowned as you started again, but you were quickly stopped.

“Wait, sorry. Wait. Just, I’ve got to... hang on,” Joe planted a knee onto the coffee table and leant all the way forward. His hands found both your knees and he moved until he got to steal one last quick kiss.

Okay, two.

Three.

Quick, a fourth. Maybe a fifth.

“Joe,” you giggled.

“What?” a sixth.

“I’m here to help you work!”

“Well, then,” seven. “Stop being so fucking cute!”

Joe got a few more in. An eight, ninth and a tenth, before he scrambled back up onto his feet.

Joe took a second to smile at you before he cleared his throat. “Right. Trailerpark.”

You smiled right back.

“Trailerpark.” the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[cottonlemonade]

How You Met

word count: 950 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: post time-skip Akaashi x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: one person being casually rude about your weight (it’s quick tho)

The taiyaki were still hot in the white paper bag, the smell reminding you it was almost lunch time.

Looking the street up and down for a bus stop or a waiting taxi you turned on the spot. A little ways up the pathway you could make out the typical black boxy shape of a Tokyo taxi and readjusting your handbag you headed towards it, only for a busy looking person in a suit to snatch it up before you could reach it, muttering something about how you would be better off walking for some exercise.

In disbelief about such rudeness you shook your head, pulling your coat a little closer around your chubby form.

You were sure another taxi would take its place soon enough and got on tiptoes to examine the traffic, on the lookout for one.

A mischievous breeze blew up your coat collar, making you wish you would have worn a scarf after all. Although April was right around the corner, the weather today was icy cold.

Giving up for the time being you headed towards a little flower shop you had passed just a few meters back to warm yourself.

A bell chimed when you opened the door. Pots with regular and more exotic house plants stacked on shelves along the wall, one display case behind the counter held the fresh cut flowers while another showed already bound bouquets in varying sizes and color schemes.

The woman standing behind the cash register called a friendly greeting and held the beginnings of a new arrangement at arm's length to check for possible improvements.

"What can I do for you?", she asked, putting the flowers down and folding her hands over a small pregnant belly.

"I would like a bouquet with peonies and… some eucalyptus, please."

The woman smiled and got to work, asking here and there for specifics in color or fullness.

She was about to come to an end with the simple coral and cream bouquet when the doorbell rang again and a young man looking remarkably like a substitute literature teacher entered the shop, a phone to his ear.

"Yes, father, I am getting flowers. I’ll be there soon. Oh, actually, I might be a while, there are quite a lot of people waiting."

You heard an angry voice yelling something unintelligible from the phone, when he simply hung up and sighed. He reached to tug at his collar like it was too tight and closed his eyes for a second, then, remembering he was in public, gave a bow to you and the saleswoman and apologized.

"Please take as long as you want.", he said, almost pleadingly.

He looked like he had a headache, grabbing his collar again.

"O-on second thought,", you began, turning to the owner that was just about to add the last eucalyptus branch, "I forgot I wanted more. Silly me. Uhm, could you make one with… hmm, those blue ones, some of the small greens, those white tulips, and lots of those light blues there, please? And then another one… with those yellow ones there, there and those, too, please." Your best friends would be delighted.

"Oh", the owner caught on immediately, "that was quite a lot. I don’t think I could memorize which ones you wanted all at once."

"No problem. I can tell you one by one."

The young man gave a small grateful smile at the stage-play-like interaction, letting out a “Thank you very much” under his breath.

As the shop owner wrapped up the first bundle of flowers at snail speed, you turned to the young man, wanting to cheer him up.

"So, where do you not want to go?"

Seemingly too exasperated to care about talking to a perfect stranger he said, "A blind date. Which, by the way, isn't actually blind but with a woman I have absolutely no interest in talking to about anything."

"Oh fun.", you said and trying to lighten the mood added, "Why not bring some flowers that say Thanks for coming, I don’t wanna be here?"

Everyone laughed, but the guy stopped after a second or two, looking at you for the first time, then turned to the florist.

"Can I do that?"

She thought for a moment, then slowly nodded, "I can add some candytuft, for sure and… hm, something really neutral for… and then… maybe I still have some butterweed. Yeah, I think I can do that."

You stayed even after your third bouquet was done, keeping the conversation going, joking around and glad when the young man gave a genuine laugh.

"Let me.", he said, sounding tired, when you drew out your wallet to pay for your flowers.

You shook your head, smiled and handed your card to the owner. Then you reached into the paper bag.

The buns in the meantime had turned lukewarm, but still smelled heavenly when you fished one out in a napkin and handed it to the woman - the other still in the bag you placed on the counter for a moment, grabbing a pen from your pocket. You quickly jotted down your name and number on the paper and handed it to him.

“And here. If you need rescuing from your blind date, send me a text and I’ll call you right away with some made-up emergency.”

Then you raised your free hand that wasn’t busy balancing the flowers with a “You got this.” and after a final wave you left.

Akaashi was still staring at the door for a few long moments after you had gone.

“You’d make a cute couple.”, the saleswoman mused and grinned when the young man blushed profusely, holding tighter to the paper bag.

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Obbligato

Chapter Twenty Nine

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Tiny, Crowley, and Sera the venue lady, both bands in the background, faceless fans

Word Count: 3162

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, mention of past Dean/Annie, friends who do not have the whole picture and are therefore quicker to judge each other aka drama

Series Masterlist

You exhaled and put your phone in your back pocket. Donna was dancing on the side of the stage closest to you, swaying with her guitar, ruby red lips smiling bright. It was a stark difference to the mindset the two bands had been in only an hour ago. God, everyone had been so scared. You felt like you should be doing damage control, but with investors and who’s-who’s brushing elbows in the VIP you had to save face. No one could know Dean had been missing.

Not even Bela.

Naturally, she found that moment to reappear. “Everything alright?”

You shook your head to clear your thoughts and smiled. “‘Course. Find anything good?”

She smiled wickedly at you and handed you a proper martini from the bar. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

Once you had a good handle on your cup, she held hers up and you clinked the glasses together. “Cheers.”

You took a big gulp and winced at the amount of olive juice, but the burn of the Gin more than made up for it. “Uh, yeah, cheers.”

Bela giggled and turned to watch as SPS finished their set. They were slowly wedging their ways into PT’s fans’ hearts and playlists. You had seen some chatter from the fan pages, plus Becky had posted a lot of supportive tweets about them once it was announced they would be along for the whole tour. It was easy to see them keeping in touch after this tour, they already felt like family.

It was only the second night and this tour was shaping up to be something memorable, something pivotal, maybe even historic.

“They’re killer,” Bela seemed to be reading your thoughts.

“Yeah.”

“You said they’re Canadian?”

“Well, mostly. They’re based in Vancouver, but Patience and Jody are from the U.S.”

“Huh. And it was Dean’s call to have them join on?” Bela played with her cocktail spear as she spoke, the stadium around you moved as a whole in the intermission.

“Well, he suggested ‘em. The suits make all the real calls.” You took another sip, feeling like she was going somewhere with this.

“Naturally. Well, that was— progressive of him.”

You felt your face drop in surprise. 

“What?!” She asked like you were the one being rude.

“Why did you say that like that?” You felt oddly defensive of SPS all of the sudden.

“I didn’t mean anything bad— I wasn’t disparaging the other band, Y/N. I was just saying— that it was a good mark of his character. It was meant to be a compliment— I swear.”

You exhaled. 

She reached over and squeezed your forearm. “You need to relax, love.”

You nodded, still a little dazed by the dred that had crept out of her best intentions. “I need a fucking nap, but this’ll do for now.”

Bela hummed in agreement.

The VIP attendees doubled the closer Phantom Traveler’s set loomed. You made sure to stay close to the edges and to keep Bela within Tiny’s range. The amount of gawkers that had needed to be escorted along were weighing at the back of your worries. But you trusted security to do their job, you had enough to monitor as it was.

You and Bela took a few selfies with the stage in the background while you waited, both of you falling into the trap of your phones until the lights signaled it was time for the show to start. From somewhere backstage Lee’s voice reached across the stadium and welcomed everybody for the night. The opening bars of ‘Black’ started, which meant Dean and Sam were starting this one off together and then everyone started to scream over the first verse and Dean’s husky opening. But between the love of the song and the dramatics of Charlie’s lighting you couldn’t blame them.

They were solid. Though Dean was ultra focused, less playful than the show the night before.

You weren’t the only one who noticed the change. “Looks a little pale up there, doesn’t he?”

You spun on your heels and smiled brightly at Crowley. “Hello! Sorry I didn’t see you come up. Bela, this is Mr. Crowley from the label.”

“Charmed,” Crowley replied, leaning down to kiss Bela’s outstretched knuckles. “Dick said you were lovely and you’d be sticking around, but I just had to see it for myself.”

“Did he? Well I’m glad to hear Mr. Roman is on Team Tal-chester,” Bela snarked back.

“Aren’t we all?” Crowley deadpanned. 

Oh, this was going to give you a migraine. Dean’s voice spoke to the crowd, but you couldn’t spare the attention to hear the introduction to the next song. You had to be focused on what was happening in front of you.

Bela asked about Gavin, who she had met in passing the night before. Crowley was as smug as ever, and gave little besides slight jabs and open ended questions back.

“How are things looking now that the tour has started?” You jumped on the first business notion that came to mind.

Crowley’s dark eyes danced from you and back to Bela, almost chagrined to talk shop. “Pre-orders of the album are up twelve percent since last week. But, uh, let’s talk ticket sales and press junkets on Monday, shall we? Don’t want to miss the rest of the show that we’ve all been waiting so patiently for.”

You gave him the grace to step away, maybe too easily. “Of course, I’ll be on the call from the hotel in San Diego.”

“Right. Well, goodnight ladies, I hope it is— fruitful for you both.”

You and Bela both plastered on your best smiles and waved nervously until he was out of sight. 

“What a git,” Bela muttered.

You couldn’t disagree, but suddenly you were hit with a burst of applause. Dean’s voice was crooning, holding a note from one of the new songs and then everyone stomped on the last note. 

“‘Pushing Through’ everybody,” Dean said simply and pulled back to let Lee take the front of the stage.

Kicking yourself for missing the live premiere, you nodded Bela closer to the ledge to get a better view of the stage, while hopefully minimizing your distractions. Tiny followed four paces back, large and lurking, ever present and professional.

Lee chatted the crowd up and then they slid into ‘Breakdown’ from their third album which was about a tour bus’ flat tire and also about how they first started noticing Sam’s struggle with the harder stuff. Pam kept the drums going as they moved into ‘Lost and Found’, their first ever single. The song that got them noticed by Crossroads in the first place.

By the time they dove into ‘No Regerts’, a tongue-in-cheek song that only made it on the same album as ‘Breakdown’ as a hidden crack track, Dean was looking more alive on stage. That irresistible smile was noticeable even from two levels up. Pam and Kevin walked them out of that song with an almost marching fanfare, spirits were up.

You tried to breathe and forget about Crowley.

‘Twigs and Twine’ set up nicely into a cover of ‘Funk 49’ by the James Gang, which everyone really had fun with. Dean ended up practically jiving with Pamela as she rocked out with the blocks. Lee added his own little drawls to the familiar riffs, which you knew meant he was having a blast. You slowly let go of the panic Dean’s absence had caused, but the knowing glint in Crowley’s eyes was harder to shake. The energy on stage was even drawing in the uppity-ups in VIP. 

You were so proud how the band had come together, yet again to give it their all.

For some reason, Bela continued to hit each of your raw nerves. Nothing she said or did was actually offensive, but somehow her very presence felt like a burden. When she gestured that she was going to go mingle during ‘Damned’ from their third album you just rolled your eyes, but nodded that you’d be okay where you were. Tiny was keeping her in his sights anyway, no reason you had to abandon the show to socialize with people you never fit in with in the first place.

Sam burst through the tail end of ‘Damned’ with a line both funky and familiar and the way Dean and Lee whipped their heads around you would have thought it was a shock. But you also knew that Sam knew better than to fuck with his brother’s setlists. They were just playing it up that Sam went from a song off the album that marked his darkest days to a feel good number from their first album. ‘So Co in So Cal’ was laid back and celebratory, a summer drinking song at its finest.

You raised your glass and danced in place, feeling the rhythm and loving the way the band slipped into the emotions of each song. Two songs later and before you realized it, they were welcoming Annie onto the stage for the last official number.

Bela returned as Annie was greeting the crowd, while effortlessly teasing Dean just like the night before.

“They’ve got quite the chemistry, don’t you think?” Bela’s voice appeared beside you.

“Yeah, but nobody can call your bullshit like family,” you agreed.

Bela smirked. “I know chemistry like that, Y/N, especially amongst performers. And those two have seen each other naked, nobody looks at each other with that kind of devilish mirth without having done the deed.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, that was ridiculous. She was like their aunt! But then the conversation the teens at the animal shelter had way back when popped into your mind about Sam and Annie having a fling. And as pissy as Cas’ niece was, she wasn’t a liar. Something like dread washed down your back and settled traitorously in your stomach.

 Bela just gave you a ‘I told you so’ look and turned to watch the duet.

You felt like you didn’t know Dean at all. Not that it mattered who he slept with, that really wasn’t your business. But Annie married Bobby. It was weird to set up your surrogate uncle with an old fling, wasn’t it?

Not to mention Sam. Wait which one went first? Did they share? Your brain spiraled into chaos scenarios and you needed air. You figured there was twenty minutes of encores to come, so you bowed out of the VIP and told Bela you were going to make sure the signing room was set up.

Smiling at the venue security as you went, the agenda for the rest of the night took over inside your mind. Autos and afterparty, the real private afterparty with the band’s inner circle. Making sure everyone knew when check out was and when to meet at the busses. Touring was like riding a bike, this time you just had to keep Bela on your radar and make sure her and Dean made nice with the fans. Everyone else you trusted. Not that you didn’t trust Bela, or Dean, for that matter, it was just the focal point. Their relationship’s success held your professional reputation in its grasp.

And Crowley knew it.

The venue had done a better job creating a flowing line for that night’s autographs. So you just carefully counted chairs and security guards to kill time. Sera burst in just as you heard the heavy thunder of stomping feet signal the true end of the show. You smiled at her and made small talk. She seemed ready to be rid of you, and the band, more than accommodating, but you didn’t take it personally. You knew how stressful it was coordinating these things. That she, too, had people she had to answer to.

The winners from the local radio station were escorted in first, followed by some of the higher ups in the fanclub, and people who paid through the nose for the opportunity. You smiled and nodded at the few who waved at you. Some of the fan club recognized you from a spotlight Becky did on you for her newsletter before the last tour. 

It was odd to have such an active and loyal group of fans in the social media age, but somehow PT inspired it more than most.

Then a wave of cheering and clapping broke you out of your thoughtful appreciation. Kevin led the way as the band smiled and high fived their way behind the row of tables. Sam must have just put on a tank top, though sweat dampened even the fresh fabric where it clung to his abs and between his shoulder blades. Pamela rocked a pair of shades that she probably grabbed off one of the security guards. A signature move of hers that she adapted after the one tour when Cas almost blinded her with the old shaving cream prank.

God, you missed him and all his pierced glory. 

Shaking your head, you waited as Lee posed for quick selfies with the group at the front of the line. That only left Dean. Spotting Bobby rounding the corner you made a beeline behind the band’s chairs.

“Where is he this time?” you demanded.

Bobby huffed. “Your bestie asked for a ‘quick mo’.”

You groaned. “Of course she did.”

But before you rifled up the nerve to go interrupt whatever they were up to, Dean appeared from the opposite direction of the dressing rooms with Donna and the rest of SPS behind him. He smiled at you like a petulant child and squeezed your shoulder as he slid past the fans and down to his seat at the far end of the row.

You exhaled and tried to keep your face optimistic as the opening band also gave you apologetic faces. The meet and greet passed in a blur. Just before the mingling portion was set to wrap up, Bela slinked in with a fresh wave of perfume and a killer’s glint in her eyes. You grabbed her by the elbow before she could interrupt Dean and Sam making nice with a set of four college-aged girls in matching PT swag. 

“Hey, just give them a few more minutes and we can all head to the afterparty together.”

“It is so dull waiting around, can’t I just pop in for some photos, too?”

You tried not to make a face, but Bela knew you too well to hide your annoyance from her.

“Come on, Y/N. It’ll be alright. Guards at every exit, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried about the fans, I’m worried you’ll make a scene. Dean’s not the only member of the band, they all like time with the fans.”

“Make a scene? You do not want to challenge me to cause a ruckus, dear.”

You closed your eyes and bowed your head, releasing your hold on her arm. “That’s not what I meant, just leave him be for a few more minutes. Okay?”

Bela seemed to weigh her options and conceded. “Fine, but we’re taking my driver to the hotel and not bothering with the hired muscle.”

“We or you two?” you clarified.

“The happy couple,” she said with all teeth.

You nodded and gestured for her to head back the way she came, probably the dressing room, since the VIP had probably been cleared out by the venue staff at that point. Once the fans were escorted out of the space, you reminded the band to clear out the dressing room. Benny had a platform dolly waiting for their concert baggage and gear. 

You needed some air, so you decided to wait for everyone outside, which was better than trying to navigate the parking garage like a civilian. Naturally, Bela and Tiny spotted you as they stood on the curb beside a freshly detailed limo.

“Is he coming?” Bela bellowed, her words were surprisingly slightly foggy from the late night chill.

“Gotta clear out the dressing room,” you said as you approached, arms wrapped around yourself to keep warm.

Groups of people still littered the sidewalk and walked by, trying to decipher which car that was double parked was their ride. 

“You know you baby him too much, he doesn’t need a nanny. He’s a grown man,” Bela said, seemingly out of nowhere.

“It’s kind of my job, so—.” You shrugged it off.

“No, it isn’t,” she said firmly.

Christ, you were so over tagging along and it was only the second show she was scheduled to make an appearance.

“Listen, you know what’s been going on, it’s better for me to be ahead of anything than to play clean up.”

“Or you just like to be in everybody’s pocket.”

Your head snapped up to glare at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look, Y/N. I’ve been around awhile and it’s not with everybody, all the time.--- I don’t know if it’s leftover guilt or what, but you literally insert yourself into every minute of Dean’s life. Even when you’re not there, you’re there. And no matter what you do, how hard you work, or how much you care it’s not going to bring Jo back.”

You recoiled like she slapped you across the face.

There were no words for how far she had taken it, how much it hit every single one of your insecurities. You were a busybody, a hanger-on. Nothing could fix the past. You had taken away any chance for Dean to be happy. You had killed your best friend.

But she hadn’t said what the worst of it. The dirty little secret that you weren’t able to keep from the likes of Cas or Bobby, the people who truly knew Dean. And that was how you felt about him, how much you wanted him to look at you the way Bela claimed he looked at Annie.

You tried to dispute it, but the words caught in your throat as the tears burned in your eyes. Tiny approached and cleared his throat, warning you of an approaching crowd. The nearest exit burst open and a rush of photographers appeared around the corner, as the band and their crew made a beeline for their waiting vehicles. Dean had thrown on a jacket, collar popped high as he kept the paps at arm’s length. 

You cleared your throat. “I don’t know what your problem is, but we put a lid on it for the rest of the night, got it?”

“Happily,” Bela replied, not looking at you but at the wave of reporters and flashing cameras as they followed Dean’s progress to the curb.

You watched dumbfounded as he kissed her hello, nodded over her shoulder at you, then held the door of the limo open for her to crawl inside. Tiny kept the vultures at bay and you followed him to a discreet SUV around the corner where Annie, Bobby, and Victor waited.

At least somebody cared that you had a ride.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

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@n-o-p-e-never

Chapter 30: Larghetto

[chernabogs]

Threnody

Inc: Malleus x Reader, with a lil bit of Lilia parenting Warnings: Existential crisis, anxiety mentions, allusions to death, dabbling in insecurity, post-blot coping WC: 2.9k Summary: There is trivial difference between storms of a Fae’s misery and those of a Fae’s joy—both are adorned in catastrophe for those caught within.  Part 1

The gasps of spring’s last moments found closure under summer’s blade as she sliced through the tolerable weather into that of stifling, uncomfortable heat. Despite the way it made his skin itch beneath his uniform, or the way it left an aroma of sweat and humidity on those he surrounded himself with, Malleus was apt to linger on the Isle of Sages for slightly longer than necessary this time. Of course, Housewardens were always the last to leave anyway—someone had to make sure the dorm rooms were cleared out and prepared for the coming fall. 

Last to leave, first to arrive. 

Even then, there was more motivation than the years before for him not to depart so hastily back to the cooler, darker halls of Black Scale Palace for all of three months. Motivation which was presently situated on one of the couches of the Diasomnia lounge, basking in the fresh air from the open windows as Malleus arranged the last of the disarrayed cushions to his liking. 

Yours had come to be a strange relationship in the aftermath of his uncomfortable realization post-overblot. He had bit his tongue like a man cursed and ensured that you had not caught wind of the idle thoughts turning in his mind as he had observed you, so patient and so giving, sitting next to the cot he had been delegated to in that medical ward. 

Your idle chatter had been efficient at keeping periods of silence from stretching for too long. Those periods of silence would have been the trigger to make him shoot off his mouth at you, ejecting his revelations like a psalm that no one was ever meant to read. 

… He wanted you. He wanted you, so much so that it ached in his body …

Such thoughts were akin to ones that a man in torment would have, writhing between the battle of want and learned conservativeness. 

He had admittedly avoided you for a week upon being released. His excuses were mainly that he wished to focus on the reparations duly owed to everyone that had been caught in the prison of his insecurities. Internationally, he had a script written for him by some of the more political of Briar Valley, apologizing for his actions and ensuring he was taking the steps to never fracture again. Privately, he fumbled over words in the dark to the three he had hurt the most, his voice breaking as fingers twisted the hems of his sleeves. He had been more nervous asking forgiveness from Silver, Sebek, and Lilia than he felt speaking to an international stage.

He had not asked for forgiveness from you, despite the fact that you and Grim had been on the forefront of this conflict, alongside the Shroud brothers and STYX. Your presence by his bedside had felt like absolution already granted, and so to plead for it would be a waste of fragile breath in the end. 

“Have you marred the cushion enough?” A teasing tone snaps him sharply from his ruminations as he pauses, his mind sluggishly returning to the present. He holds the couch cushion in his hand, its form warped from the original due to his constant pushing and remodelling. Malleus clears his throat before dropping it unceremoniously and nudging it with his knee. 

“It was due for some rearrangement.” His voice is less light as he assesses the rest of the dorm before his gaze drags itself back to you. The sunlight dapples across your skin as you watch him, the faint smirk on your lips doing little to hide the tiredness that rests in your eyes. Like him, you too have fought battles this year. It was selfish to bemoan his own hells when you have been in levels far deeper. 

“Sometimes you seem more meticulous than Riddle. I should be thankful I don’t need to memorize a rule book for Diasomnia as well.” You still continue to poke fun even as you observe him with a sharp stare. This is a look he has grown familiar with since his overblot. Perhaps born of concern, or perhaps born of paranoia, but you have been dissecting every comment he’s made as of late in a more clinical fashion. 

Malleus does not deign to give you a reply as he drifts around the lounge, readjusting candles or shifting books ever so slightly on the table. He wouldn’t say he’s overly anal about how things operate, but he does appreciate a sense of order. He has dealt with enough chaos this past year that the thought of more feels like a weight on his back. It’s when he enters his third lap of the room that you speak up again.

“Malleus.” His name slips from your lips like a lure, causing his attention to move from the lounge to your form once more. The smirk is absent from your lips as a sterner expression rest on your face. He still enjoys the sight of it. Smiling, stern, or despairing—he struggles to find flaws in your complexion. “Is there something on your mind? You seem quite restless.” 

That terrible impulse to speak true rears its ugly head once more as deeper thoughts bubble up to his tongue. Want, want, want, want—

His upper lip curls into an expression he doesn’t mean to give—disgust—and he see’s the consequence of this by the hurt that flashes in your eyes. He turns to face away as an ugly feeling embraces his body.

... You cannot speak with them, or hold them, or tell them how much they mean to you ...

“Nothing, Prefect. I’m merely thinking about what still needs to be done.”

_______________________________________________

There is trivial difference between storms of a Fae’s misery and those of a Fae’s joy—both are adorned in catastrophe for those caught within. The skies above are a roiling mass of grey as the scent of rain perfumes the air. Malleus observes it with fraught silence as he taps painted nails along the windowsill. That ugly feeling is still wrapping its arms around his body. He has showered several times, scrubbing his skin until it was raw in an attempt to remove the heat and the unseen slickness that is holding him hostage. The failure to do so has set him in a foul mood—one that the entire world can now sense.

This can be easily written off as a last spring storm, intending to make the season’s death a performative one. At least, those who have not been alive for several hundred years would think so.

He can feel a gaze on the back of his neck for a while before he finally rolls his eyes and decides to address the elephant in the room.

Or, more accurately, the bat.

“If you intend to surprise me, you’re doing a poor job at it,” Malleus mutters wryly as he finally looks back to the shadowy corner. Red eyes glint in delight before being accompanied by a white smile as Lilia moves to stand by his side.

“I was trying to surmise if I would be allowed to approach, or if you’d try to fry me with a lightning bolt first.” Lilia clasps his hands behind his back as he leans forward to look at the skies above. His expression is quite relaxed for someone fully aware of the turmoil going on in the man next to him. Lilia’s brush with death in the recent months had caused him to be more open-minded to the possibility. “You’re going to make move out day a very unenjoyable experience if you keep this up.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Malleus’ voice is dry as he taps his nails again, his attention fixating on the skies. The ugly feeling churns alongside the clouds above and for a moment it makes him feel satisfied to see a physical reflection of his state.

“Malleus.” There’s a sharper, more paternalistic tone now behind Lilia’s words. Malleus can feel the disapproval rolling off of him the longer they stand here in a stubborn silence. In the aftermath of the blot, Malleus had agreed to be more communicative of his moods to his family, and so it’s with a reluctant grunt that he speaks again.

“I don’t feel good.” His words are just as sharp as Lilia’s as his expression darkens. “I don’t know why.”

“Have you visited the medical ward?” Lilia’s hand flits out to touch Malleus’ forehead, as though checking to see if he’s feverish. The gesture causes the prince to scowl and move his head back. “Oh, come now, don’t get moody with me. I’m concerned.”

“Is it concern, or do you just wish to fuss over me?” He grumbles back as he bats his guardian’s hand away. “I haven’t visited the medical ward, no. I’m not too sure if there’s cause to do so.”

“Then at least tell me what you’re experiencing. Perhaps I can provide some insight.”

Lilia would be the most probable to give some sort of answer. Malleus knew the cause already, but his denial of the fact makes him speak up regardless. “I feel... unclean. Hot. Restless. There is a twisting sense of anxiety in my stomach that has made sleep quite evasive as of late, and it only is growing with each passing day. It’s as though I’m afraid of something—but I have yet to discover what.”

Lilia frowns as he looks from the window to Malleus. There’s a seriousness to him that comes from those many, many years of experience. “Is that so? And is there something you think of that seems to make this feeling grow?”

Malleus’ jaw clenches at the question as memories briefly flash in his mind. Sunlight dappling on skin, lips curled in a faint smirk, and idle chatter at a hospital bedside.

“Malleus?” Lilia’s voice is softer this time. Malleus knows that in this moment, he is playing traitor to his own thoughts. He looks to his guardian, and his silence is all the answer the other man needs.

“Am I ill?” He asks, and it’s when Lilia’s expression becomes one of faint sympathy that the ugly feeling becomes clearer.

“... no, not ill.”

Lilia’s repetition of the same answer he gave Malleus so long ago feels like cruel irony in this moment. Malleus barks out a laugh before waving dismissively at the other, who takes his cue to vanish away.

Not ill, no. But foolish, most certainly.

_______________________________________________

Ramshackle is no longer a dorm of ruins. The school year and your tender care has given it new life, something that many may have thought would never occur. No longer can he hear floorboards rotting or cement cracking under the weight of time. Although he mourns the loss of such precious tribute to the end, the prospect of rebirth is invigorating all the same.

He draws to a stop by the iron gates and takes a deep breath, looking to the dorm in silence until he see’s a figure step out and stand on the porch, waiting for him.

He does not make you walk to him this time.

Malleus’ hand grasps that iron gate and forces it open so that he may step through. He walks with purpose towards the porch where you stand, a mug of something in your hand as you watch him in the dying light. Birds sing their last songs and grasshoppers begin their own chorus as he stops just at the edge of the steps and looks to you appraisingly.

“Are you ready to retire?” He asks.

“Depends. What brings you to my home tonight?” You counter, smirking wryly from over the rim of your mug. That expression makes his nails dig into his palm behind his back as he clears his throat. He feels more nervous standing before you now than he felt speaking to an international stage.

How funny.

“Walk with me.” The words come out more as a demand than a question, and for a moment he balks, thinking that the authority in his tone may have just cost him an opportunity. But then you take a sip of your drink before setting it down on the porch’s banister.

“Please?” You hum, and Malleus clenches his jaw, looking to you with an unwavering gaze.

“Please.”

_______________________________________________

The nights silence, often welcoming, now feels as though he’s standing on a stage before an audience held in rapt attention. The two of you walk silently down your usual route as his mind turns and tosses his thoughts like a restless sea. He wishes to know if you feel a similar turmoil to what he presently does—and yet you are moving in perfect ease by his side.

“... and I can tell you, he wanted to make another contract with Azul over this. He was making faces at the man the entire time we were in the Lounge and Floyd looked ready to drag him to the backrooms.” You’re chattering away about your two other friends as you walk. He finds the situation grimly humorous. He’s having a crisis, and you’re filling him in on how ridiculous the antics of your companions are.

“Is that so?” Malleus murmurs vaguely, if only to keep you speaking, if only to keep hearing your voice. The two of you continue on your route as he remains in a trance like state.

No, not ill.

Lilia’s words are an omen hanging over his head. His guardian knows, and although Lilia is very skilled at keeping secrets, the fact that another is involved in this only makes his anxiety grow. He looks to you briefly. There’s a time limit left on how long you will remain by his side, both for tonight and for the future. You may return home, or you may embark on some grand adventure around the world, drinking in all the sights that Twisted Wonderland has to offer while he’s forced to remain in a palace on his own.

Everyone misses the ones they love when they leave us.

His grandmother’s comment in the mausoleum also comes to the forefront of his mind as he ruminates on this. He will miss you, and that’s an uncomfortable fact. He will miss you, and he cannot place if this is because of genuine care or because he’s so goddamn terrified of ending up on his own, that he cannot come to terms with the loss of someone by his side.

He doesn’t even register the two of you coming to sit on a bench by the main street, doesn’t even register how empty it is. He doesn’t register anything at all until he feels the sensation of your warm hand on his and it pulls him so harshly from his thoughts that he fears he may have whiplash.

“Hey?” You’re looking at him, and it seems that at some point you had stopped talking about your friends, stopped talking about your day. There’s concern in your eyes and it’s such a warm feeling, to be worried about, but for some reason it makes Malleus want to shrink back into the shadows even more. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem like you’ve been in a whole different place this entire walk.”

No. He wants to say. No, actually. According to my guardian I am not ill, and yet the very prospect of watching your form grow smaller on the coast of this Isle as I return to the Valley is one that fills me with such abysmal fear that I cannot even comprehend it. I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what I’m thinking. I do know that you are the centre of this all.

You will die. So will I, in the end, but yet it’s this childish fear of seeing you fade away while I still remain that I cannot seem to get past.

Please, show me how to get past. Let me know, so that I may know you.

The words that had fought so hard to escape him so far now shrivel on his tongue as he looks to you. Your gaze flickers around his face, focuses on his lips, and it’s that action that makes a bolt of heat shoot through him. But before that bolt can ignite to something more, the ugly feeling wraps its hand around his throat and wrenches his head back. He jerks his face away and stands from the bench, his body stiff as he clears his throat.

“No, I think I may be coming down with something. It would be best to head back.” Even his words feel fabricated—traitorous! —as he speaks them aloud. This is not what he wishes to do. He wishes to thread his fingers through your hair, to pull you in and to lose himself within you until he can no longer differentiate where he ends, and you may begin. He wants to taste your words before they leave and know your thoughts before they’re spoken. He wants you, so much so and it aches and—

“Malleus,” you begin again, moving to go to his side, but he raises a hand to you sharply.

“Now.” He chokes out before setting off down the path, uncaring to see if you’re truly following or not. His mind is in turmoil and his body feels as though he has no control over it any longer. All that lingers now is the way your gaze went to his lips and the silly, hopeful thoughts such an action provoked.

Please.