#{including one who i thought was a much better match for him} | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luminouslywriting · 1 day

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Heeyyy so I saw that you had a scary surgery?? Ur so brave and get better soon!

I was wondering if maybe you could do a pregnancy HC with any of the BOB boys?? :)

Nonny, you are so sweet 🥹🥹 thank you!! And yes, I’d love to do this one for you! Reminder that my requests are open and I don’t mind spam! More below the cut, cut for length, light spice sprinkled in:

Dick Winters:

-He’s absolutely thrilled to be a father. The minute that you tell him about it, he’s practically giddy like a little kid haha. -A family is always something that he’s wanted and settling down is honestly a dream to him. Especially with you! -Winters thinks that you’re even more perfect pregnant and definitely gets even more of a praise kink during pregnancy. Service top who???

-Doesn’t coddle you but definitely spoils you a little bit and tries to make sure that you have everything you need/want so that things go smoothly. -Loves getting to talk baby names with you and gets really into your self care routine while pregnant. -Probably cries the first time he holds the baby.

Lewis Nixon:

-A wreck. I’m sorry, there’s just no way that this man is NOT panicking about you having a kid bc he feels like he’s already messed things up before and doesn’t want to do that again. -Might need a little bit of space initially to figure out his feelings and pull himself together. But then once he does, he’s all in. I’m talking going to doctors appointments with you, doing additional reading, and researching best ways to cure morning sickness type of guy. -Send him out for cravings, he likes to feel useful while you’re growing a baby haha. -Waxes poetic about the ability to grow life inside of you and pretty much views you as the center of his universe from this point onwards. -Absolutely has sympathy labor pains, I can’t explain that one at all

-Does not let you lift anything heavy or do anything strenuous the entire time you’re pregnant.

Ronald Speirs:

-Gets this really soft expression the minute he hears the news from you and is almost scared of the thought—but he’s ready and he’s super tender about things. -Definitely develops a breeding kink during this time and is so attentive to anything that will help you feel better, including orgasms. -Shows up one day from work with just a TON of baby stuff and maternity that he’s splurged on because he wants you to feel loved and special

-Loves holding you at nighttime and definitely will never admit this, but he talks to the baby and has so many plans

-Foot massages from him and he’ll try to hold the baby weight for you by holding up your stomach once the pregnancy progresses

-Is so protective and lets a few tears shed when the baby is born—he never left your side the entire time. His love for you has multiplied exponentially.

Buck Compton:

-Is the type of man to laugh excitedly and pull you into a fierce kiss that sweeps you off of your feet

-He’s immediately voting on a little boy and starts referring to the baby as Junior. -Is very attentive to you and wants to put the entire nursery together himself. Gets pretty far in the process too! The paint job could be better, but that’s okay! -Likes sharing showers with you and lotions your stomach afterwards with a sweet kiss to the swell of the belly. -But he also lays awake pretty anxious about being a dad and not being the same as he used to be. He wants this kid’s life to be absolutely perfect. -Gets sweetly emotional throughout the pregnancy milestones, including the baby kicking and the first time he hears a heartbeat.

Carwood Lipton:

-The grin on this man’s face will never be matched. He’s so thrilled and so excited about it! -He definitely treats you like precious cargo from there on out; a hand over your stomach when you’re walking in public, a hand in yours during drives, he’s constantly watching out for you. -Loves the way that your body changes and grows to accommodate the baby and thinks that stretch marks are sexy. BODY PRAISE KINK maxed haha. -Very into compliments and he wants you to know how much he loves you each and every day. -He is already good with kids and so he practices by babysitting his nieces and nephews. Watching him with kids is probably a turn on tbh. -Gets oddly into cooking since you’re tired and comes up with the best craving dishes at your request.

Joseph Liebgott:

-Shocked, bamboozled, shooketh, and the softest dumb smile on his face when you tell him. Asks you a million questions immediately following. -This is also followed by the sweetest sex wherein he praises and serviced you to the point of you literally falling asleep haha. -Literally tells everyone he knows because he’s so excited about the entire thing! -Is taking bets with the men in easy on the gender of the baby (he thinks girl haha)

-Also develops a lactation kink during the midst of all of this lol

-Coaches you through labor with support and a hand hold that nearly broke his hand haha

Donald Malarkey:

-An excited soft bean who immediately kisses your stomach in excitement

-Wants to go shopping with you for ALL of the baby things immediately. Please explain that there’s a whole nine months of cooking to him. -Is literally in shock and amazement at the changes your body undergoes as he learns more and more about pregnancy. He is wowed by you and expresses this daily. -Literally the most gentle he has ever been while you’re pregnant and Lowkey a mother hen who doesn’t want you to fall or do anything like lift something heavy. -Probably has a ton of lullabies memorized from his own childhood and starts dusting them off immediately. -Is the most vocal support during labor and encourages you like your life depends on it.

Eugene Roe:

-A flurry of excitement, French words, and light kisses all over immediately

-He’s already ruminating on baby names and trying to imagine how things will go. That being said, he’s best for morning sickness and pregnancy bleh energy. -Knows a ton of wives’ tales about pregnancy and how to help with natural remedies, which he awaits to try out whenever you’re ready

-Bath sex together during this time

-He gets good at doing your hair for you when you’re feeling especially worn out or tired

-Is so soft and sweet the minute you go into labor and stays by your side until the entire thing is over. 10/10 a great dad.

Bill Guarnere:

-Has to blink several times and ask you to repeat it and make sure that he heard you correctly the first time. But once he’s sure, he’s the most excited person ever. -Calls everyone he knows to tell them the news….and he wants to name the baby after Joe Toye if it’s a boy. -Takes the mood swings with a grain of salt but will try all of your cravings with you. He likes a few of them as actual snacks haha. -Gets creative in figuring out positions for sex so that you can be more comfortable

-Sometimes gets nervous about being a dad and kinda retreats within himself. I promise that one good flash of skin will remind him that everything is fine. -Is a wreck during labor but super calm and chill the minute he gets to hold the baby.

Joe Toye:

-Immediately kisses you like you’re his last breath of air. If he was in love with you before, that’s nothing to how he feels now. -Has some insecurities about how he’s going to be a dad with his injury, so hype him up as a dad. -Does all of his own research on the growth of babies and pregnancy. Will recite these facts randomly to you during dinner. -Loved getting to lay with you at nighttime and just talk to you about the kid and all of the hopes and dreams you both have for them. -Probably acutely aware of the cost of pregnancy on your body and is so in awe…he wants more but definitely leaves that in your court since it’s your body. -Also really great with dealing w/ postpartum depression and understands in a different way than most men.

George Luz:

-Goes to make a joke, gets told you’re pregnant, and is rendered totally speechless. Congrats reader. You did that haha. -Immediately starts suggesting names for the baby and starts planning out a whole gaggle of kids on the spot. -Is extremely horny while you’re pregnant and his sex drive rivals yours tbh

-HYPE KING OF COMPLIMENTS and reassuring you that you’re perfect and not a swollen penguin. -Would definitely walk around with a watermelon to feel sympathy for you haha. -Is afraid he’s going to drop the baby but never would ☺️

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nightacquainted · 9 months

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youtube

Fanvid of Beauty and the Beast set to "Right Here Waiting" by Richard Marx

#beauty and the beast 80s #{ah yes... this 80s show set to 80s music}#{chef's kiss}#{okay but this illustrates one of the major issues i have with their relationship}#{vincent was always just expected to sit and wait for catherine}#{until she had time for him in her own busy life}#{and the moment he asked for more it was seen as unreasonable}#{he was always faithful... even turning down what... least two people?}#{including one who i thought was a much better match for him}#{while catherine dated elliot and how many others?}#{it was like vincent was this sure thing for her in case something better didn't work out}#{but he was so devoted to her it was sad}#{it wasn't fair to him frankly}#{he deserved to be somebody's first choice}#{and i think that was father's issue with catherine too}#{that their relationship was very risky for Vincent in terms of safety}#{but catherine just would never fully commit}

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etfrin · 6 months

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⤷❝ The Quiet Gift | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | squirting, Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, possessiveness, fingering (f. receiving), bathroom sex, mirror sex, semi-public sex (there was a gala), pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), dumbfication if you squint, dom sub undertones, degradation, ownership kink, breath play with a twist | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: continuation of the arranged marriage au, this is your one year anniversary with him with a gala held in place to celebrate, you get insecure because of some bitches and Coryo fucks you in the bathroom with sprinkles of your daily life with him.

⇢☾Request: this is a request (idk if i’m writing it in the write place im new to tumblr i usually use wattpad) young coriolanus snow bathroom mirror sex like him making u watch ur self come undone in the mirror

⇢☾A/N: enjoy everyone! And to one who requested, hope you like this! :) this might be my last post of this theme btw, i am getting sick of the blue :/

arranged marriage au: the study, mine to love

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > < tag list >

A year had passed of your marriage, a bond between two souls which wasn't much of a lie as before. Things with Coryo were better than you could ever expect. You thought he would isolate himself from you after your confession but so much had changed. He had gotten softer but more possessive. His edges are sharp yet he makes sure it's a shield for you, not something that would make you bleed.

Among his actions include changing your entire wardrobe (not without your opinion first), a library that connects to his office (his office is something you have access to at all times now), his room was now yours both (your favorite change), and last but not least a poison taster was included so that no attempts of assassination at the First Lady could be taken.

At first, you thought it to be extra, but knowing that it would put his paranoid mind at peace you allow it without much to say. He picked out your outfit every day, and sometimes you did the same for Coriolanus. He would frown as you decide what to wear or not for him for the day, knowing that some of the pieces don't match his style but when he sees your smile as you pick out the clothes. He smooths his frown and takes whatever horrible fashion statement you created for him and wears it with pride.

If anyone dared to speak up about it, he proudly said that his wife picked it out and everyone knew better than to speak a single ill word of the unspoken Queen of Panem.

Today was one of those days when you decided to pick his outfit. Today was something special after all. One year had passed since you had become Mrs. Snow, and a gala was to be held tonight to celebrate the union.

So yes, you were going to pick his outfit. You had even woken up early because of it. You giggled as you opened your eyes, your arm around Coryo whose hair looked impossibly messy, sticking out everywhere. It made him look years younger than he was. You chuckled at the sight, your heart clenching with the love you have for this man. You lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead and then his cheek. You whispered, not expecting him to wake up until his alarm rang, “Good morning, Coryo”

You quietly slipped away from the bed and tiptoeed to the closet. The closet you both shared now. One side carrying every single piece of your clothing and the other side his. You wanted to pick out something different for your husband once, sick of seeing him in his white shirts and black vest. That's how you picked out a black suit with a white vest and a red silk shirt. You could imagine unbuttoning this off of him tonight and the thought made your body heat up and a giggle escaped your lips.

“What are you laughing about, doll?” A voice, his deep sleepy voice startling you. “Nothing!” You quickly said, turning to look at Snow, your breath hitching as his eyes were half closed and his hair turned into a mess of curls. Sometimes you wonder if this was all a fever dream and if you truly have the privilege of seeing him like this. You placed the clothes into a corner and went to him.

You pulled him down, your hand on his nape and another on his cheek as you guided him to your lips. Morning breath be damned. His actions were reflexive with how his arms pulled you in closer as his lips pressed into yours. He smiles against your lips and soon both of your tongues tangle in an uncoordinated sleepy manner and you whimper into his mouth.

This was real. This was your reality and you would do everything to keep it as it is. You pulled back and he whispered, “What was that for, doll?”

“Just needed to make sure this was real,” you answered him. Your words make him crack a real smile, something even you saw rarely and it would only be possible in moments like this. Moments when you have shocked the man with your actions and words and made him fall harder for you.

“Well it is,” he grins. Before his expression clears up he focuses on the clothes you have set aside. “Outfit for today?” He asked. You nod and smile at him, gesturing at the clothes. “You would look handsome in them,” you said. “Don't I always look handsome?” He smirks, you laugh, “I am not falling for that trap, dear husband. I'll be in the shower, choose something for me.” You press a kiss on his cheek before leaving the closet.

After showering and wearing the red dress he had decided, both of you go on for your respective duties. The gala would start early in the day and there were a few hours left before it formally started as guests were already coming in.

The mansion was set up beautifully, no words could have possibly explained the amount of work and dedication to make this the event of the year, valued higher than the Hunger Games itself. In another universe, it may not have been possible, in this one however you somehow managed to crack into his heart and made yourself a higher priority.

You were doing finishing touches of your makeup when Corio came in, his hair slicked back but his body tense, his eyes unable to hide the shakiness in them. You don't say anything, letting the man have his moment of vulnerability. You knew you would mess him up even more if you pointed it out, so you continued your task.

You didn't pay him any attention despite the itch to turn to him. You force yourself to stare straight into the mirror, applying your lipstick for the night. That was until he came behind you, his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest, his head propped on your shoulder as you felt him take deep breaths.

You don't ask if anything is wrong, accepting the rare form of intimacy he initiated. Usually, you're the ones for the hugs, the genuine ones anyway. You knew despite everything you were like a math equation to Snow. His mind figured out the formulas to keep you to him forever, you doubted if he saw anyone as his equal but you were perhaps the closest thing to it.

You had accepted it long before, but moments like this when Coriolanus allowed himself to be a human meant everything to you. You fell for every version of him, the one that is an untouchable deity who could kill you without guilt, and the human he was, obsession filling in veins making you the sole objective of his mind as he already achieved Panem.

You close your eyes, taking deep breaths with him. In the end, you were human too and you broke. “What's wrong?” You asked, as softly as possible yet breaking the bubble that had formed.

He smirks through the mirror, his eyes meeting yours, a sense of superiority in the blue hues. “Nothing’s wrong, my doll,” he whispered to you, pressing a ghost-like kiss to your bare shoulder. His arms cage you tighter, making a small gasp on your lips. “Okay,” you smile at him.

“Ready to start the gala then?” You asked, “Snows are born ready,” he replied, his tone smug.

One of his arms was kept wrapped around his waist while the other opened a drawer to take out a small box. “For you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your neck. You opened the box, and in it was a gold necklace with the initial ‘S’. You blush, and leave it to Corio to give you a necklace with his initials for an anniversary gift. “It’s beautiful,” you whispered, your head turning back and you gave him the brightest smile. “Help me wear it?” You mumbled as you handed him the box.

And so he did, and now a necklace was on your neck, the letter ‘S’ sitting perfectly on your skin. It scratched an innate itch for Snow to see you wear this. A part of him had expected you to fight, and be disgusted by this action, his mind thinking of several ways to make (force) you to wear the necklace. But as always you surprised him with your acceptance, as if you knew that wearing this would help him with his possessiveness. You were truly the right woman for him.

With his arm around your waist, you walk into the celebration. Countless people, the top elites of the Capitol were attending the gala. Everything had to be perfect.

Alas, fate is nothing but fickle.

The rumors didn't catch your ears at first before slowly the whispers caught up to you. Too busy with your life in the mansion and with Coriolanus, you rarely were social. You never had many friends from the capitols' elites. And those who knew were merely allies for the future. So the gossip never reached your ears.

Gossip you knew better to believe. Words change when they travel mouth to mouth. It can be easily manipulated too, your husband was a living proof of that. The snake tongue of all of Panem. But when the words seemed to get louder and louder, you couldn't help but feel maybe it's tinged with truth.

Snow was busy talking to diplomats while you were politely having a conversation with the ladies. That's when the questions began about some things they had heard about Snow. Each worse than the other but nothing you didn't already know. You make sure to change their perspective whenever something new comes up. Coriolanus was still new at this position, anything could snatch the power away if either of you weren't careful.

Feeling like you have finished the job, you begin to move away, only to stop when you hear, “...even wearing a pendant with his initial, she's nothing more than a whore who was pushed up to play the role of the First Lady. A woman of her standing would never deserve such a title.”

It was true, when Snow asked you to marry you, it was sudden and he gained nothing from it. Nothing, no money, power, and just a few connections you had but he had already impressed them all beforehand so there was no need for you. Your history in the academy wasn't all that great either, you were never the best but wholly average. A man like Snow deserved the best.

Insecurity claws at your heart and even so with recent events you knew their words were wrong. Tears burned your eyes. Your hand goes to the necklace you had on, your fingers twirling the pendant. Meanwhile, despite Coriolanus' focus being mainly on talking sweet to the guests and gathering sponsors, his eyes were on you, your every moment, and each person you spoke to. He notices you walking away from the gala and into the hallways. He followed you.

You were in one of the many bathrooms the manor had to offer. You stared at the mirror, the necklace you were wearing, and your hands traveled to the back ready to take it off. That's when Coriolanus enters the bathroom, his footsteps stopping midtrack as you freeze too.

“Coryo,” you begin to speak, your hand at your side now. “I was just-” “Why were you going to take it off?” He interrupted you, his face twisted in a glare you never thought would be directed at you. You shrugged, trying to play casual, “It doesn't feel appropriate.” “Why?” He questioned his tone icy calm, spreading chills down your spine. “Because-” because you didn't feel worthy of it. “Because you're ashamed of me,” he scoffs, walking closer to you. His eyes now fully glaring at you.

You frown, “What? Coryo, no-” He tilts your chin up, as he leans in, his expression twisted in fury, “Then what? There's no other appropriate reason for you to take it off then.” In truth, something was getting lost in translation, the women you were talking to earlier were going to be accused of treason in a few days. The cause? The rumors (some truth mixed in as well) they had spread about Snow. They were invited out of courtesy and after this, they had signed their death certificate.

“It's nothing like-” “Then what?” He hissed, “Did you finally come to your senses? Did they tell you how much of a horrible monster I am? And a horrible president?” You knew some sort of major miscommunication had happened but you had no idea how to deal with it. Not when Snow pressed a harsh, hard kiss to your lips, teeth clashing and his tongue seemingly fighting with yours for dominance that you easily gave over.

“You can't escape me, doll. No matter how horrible you realize I am. Think about running away and it's your dead body that will be leaving this mansion.” he whispered against your lips, his hands on your waist, your body flushed against his as your back hit the counter.

You chuckled at his words, knowing that would never be your end. His eyebrows furrow in confusion and it makes you giggle even further. “Dove, I am not joking,” he said, looking straight in your eyes. “I know,” you smile at him, “You…” you shake your head, smiling, you were surely crazier than him. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Those women said something… mean and it made me realize I may not be worthy of this necklace…” you begin to explain, hoping the explanation would calm him down.

You thought wrong. “You don't think I can decide who deserves to be my property, pet. Whom I let to be my queen,” he said, his tone deeper than before. He whispered, “I decided it's you. It's been a year since that decision and I haven't regretted it once.”

He manovaroued you so you were facing the mirror. He was right behind you, his eyes hard. “The woman you're looking at right now is mine. My pet. My wife. How dare you try to take off a mark of my ownership, doll?” You opened your mouth to apologize, but a moan escaped instead as he bit into your shoulder. He begins to press you against the counter, your body bending over as he continues to press wet kisses on your nape.

“You need a reminder about whom you belong to,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin making you shiver, heat spreading to your body as his hands unzipped your dress from behind, letting the fabric fall on the floor. “I am yours,” you moan to him as his palms knead your breasts through the bra. “Then you should have known better, my stupid bird.”

“You look away from the mirror even once…,” he said, his hands squeezing your breasts roughly, his head propped up to your shoulder, his face set in a smirk, “and that group of women dies.” They were going to die either way but you didn't know that.

You gasp, “Snow- '' His hands squeeze your breasts harder, bordering on pain. “It’s Coryo for you, dove,” he said, slowly yet firmly as if talking to a child. His hands move downwards, one moves to your hip, and for the other, his fingers slip inside your panties. You whimper when his fingertip touches your clit. At any other time, he would have been slow, and gentle when he was rubbing the bud but now? His touch was fast and unconcerned, his sole goal was to inflict punishment with pleasure.

He rubbed at your clit relentlessly, making you soak your panties with your juices. His other hand squeezes your hips. You whine, your eyes closing and he pinches your clit making you moan louder than you should, your eyes opening immediately to meet his gaze.

“Only warning, pet,” he whispered, his finger now playing with the clit even more relentlessly. Back and forth, up and down with no mercy, making the bud swollen and your pussy clench around nothing. “Yes, Coryo,” you gasp.

“My dumb pet can learn after all,” he whispered to your ear and then his lips kissed the clasp of your necklace. His fingers abandon your clit to swipe at your folds to gather your wetness. He chuckles as he continues to tease you like this, his hard cock pressing against your ass.

“Coryo,” you whispered and your eyes connected with his and you knew his fingers could feel the flex of your cunt around nothing. “That's it. Look at me, doll.”

He slipped his fingers one by one into your slit, the stretch making you gasp. “It's too much,” you managed to get out, your voice shaky. “You can take it,” he tuts. His fingers begin to message your wall, hitting every crook and canny you never knew existed. He twisted his fingers thrusting right at your g-spot making you moan loudly, your body was now completely bent over in front of the mirror and your hands gripped the counter for life. Snow continues to playfully stretch you out, scissoring your pussy with his long fingers.

When he finally deemed you loose enough, he pulled his fingers out without a warning making you whimper. He pulls down your panties around your knees, and then his hand unzipped his pant to take his cock out. Something in you liked how he was composed and fully clothed while having you like this, primal and debauched. It showcased Coriolanus perfectly, no matter how prim and proper the man was outside in the end he was as much of a mess.

His impatient was clear with his clenched jaw, one of his hands traveling upwards your body to grip your breast like a handle as his free hand guides his leaking, hard cock into your entrance. “I was going to fuck you good tonight, on a bed properly like a wife deserves,” he begins to say as he pushed in with a single stroke. Your mouth lets out a small scream as your pussy adjusts to his dick. “Instead I have to treat you like a whore, bending your ass over a counter and fuck you while there are people all over the mansion.” He shakes his head disappointed, he meets your gaze, “I expected better, doll.”

“Then why keep a disappointment around,” you snapped at him, making him raise his eyebrows at your tone, his cock twitching inside your walls. “I wonder that myself too,” he grunts, his face buried in your shoulder, his tongue licking your salty skin. “You’re my everything,” he whispered, “Don't you forget that, dove.”

It was a confession that made you turn your back and made you catch his lips. He groans into your mouth as both of your tongues play with each other, expressing words the others cannot say. His free hand went to grip your necklace chain, making you gasp as he fisted the chain and pulled at it, knocking at your breath in one go.

His hips had begun to pound into you, short, hard thrusts that made his cockhead press against your g-spot while his remaining length messaged your walls perfectly. “You don't have to think, doll. I am here to think for you. You don't have to think about deserving me, or Panem. You don't have to think at all, just be my bird. My bird only,” he grunts.

Your eyes had begun to see spots from the lack of air, he hadn't seemed to care as your pussy keeps squeezing around him because of it. He lets go of the chain, making you gasp and you take the air you desperately need as his thrusts begin to get sloppier. Coryo was too impatient, too worked up, too mad at you to care about your pleasure. You were a pet getting used and you loved every second of it.

“I love you,” you whispered to him, and he groaned in response, as his thrusts got slower. He was edging himself to last longer, for this not to end. He bites your nape, not hard as he does usually to make sure the mark fades in a few seconds. His hips continue to rock into you, both of his hands now kneading at your clothed breast. He makes your round flesh spill from the bra and cups them with a groan escaping his lips.

“You’re mine,” he said as he pressed wet kisses all over your neck and shoulders, “Mine.” Your pussy clenched around him, making his pace get even slower, frustration begins to claw your mind as your body tethers to the edge. “Yours,” you agreed. “Fuck me faster,” you plead.

He lets out a laugh, “No. You'll take what I'll give.” “Coryo, my love please!” You begged. His hips stutter, making you feel confused, before realizing why he had stopped. You hadn't called him that since that night and you realized you had leverage on the man.

“My love, please! Fuck me harder,” you spill, “Baby, please!” He clenched his jaw trying so hard not to give in to the instinct of rutting into you like an animal. Knowing that he was near the edge, you continue, “Cum in me and make me walk around the gala with your cum inside, please. Please, mark me!”

That did the trick rather perfectly. His hand wraps around your throat, not choking you but staying there as a comforting presence that shouldn't have been comforting at all. “My dumb pet has ways with words. Gotta fuck that out of you, my dove,” he smirked.

His hips begin to roll into you again, making you gasp and squeeze his dick with your slick walls. The start of it was slow and cautious before Coriolanus decided to throw it all in the wind. He takes half of his length out before slamming it back to you. The sound of hips snapping echoed into the air along with his grunts and your moans. He kept fucking into you, with no care about anything.

Both of your sights were obscene in the mirror and it turned you not to end. Your body had begun to heat, your pussy aching to cum after being played with for so long. The tension in your body was close to snapping, and he knew it too. Knew it the way your cunt kept sucking his cock in so well. His head was on your shoulder, his mouth breathing out hot air onto your skin.

“Look at me,” you whispered, and his eyes snap at you and not even a second later he spills into your cunt, fucking his cum into you as he lets out a whine for the first time. You gasp, feeling your build-up fading without snapping but Snow was never to disappoint. He pulled his cock out, just to stuff you with his fingers. You whimper, your sensitive walls twitching around his fingers, so close to breaking.

Coriolanus doesn't waste a second to thrust into your sopping cunt, your folds covered in his cum, and fucking that into you with his fingers. He crooks his fingers perfectly, hitting your g-spot and making you black out for a second as his fingers keep assaulting your insides without a care.

You gasp, your body starting to give up. Snow has to wrap an arm around you to help you stay balanced. “That's it, doll. Cum on my fingers. I will make you cum on my cock later,” he promised to you. You cry out as his fingers continue their fast pace of thrusting. And finally, finally, your orgasm builds up again. A single graze from his fingertip onto your spongy spot has you not only cumming but squirting too.

Even Coriolanus eyes widen in surprise as you spill your juices onto the floor, ruining your dress and everything. You begin to feel ashamed of losing control in such a manner, but Coryo curses, “Fuck, doll. Fuck, that was…” He couldn't even finish the sentence.

You close your eyes, feeling yourself close to losing balance, only for Snow to swipe your legs from the floor and carry you to the bathtub.

“I’ll take care of you, doll,” he said, “I’ll bring in a new set of clothes, wait.” “What about the gala?” You asked. He kissed your temple before he replied, “I told everyone to leave the moment you walked away. Told everyone you were sick and as your husband, I shall be taking care of you.”

You let out a raspy chuckle, it was rather amazing how Coriolanus Snow always turned everything in his favor. Even this would help his image of being a president who took such good care of his wife and would surely take the country to great lengths.

“Snow lands on top,” you whispered to him with a smile.

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy

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lqveharrington · 2 months

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Lucky King? | L.M.

summary: Lucifer takes pride in everything he has, especially his wife.

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x wife!reader

includes: fluff, lucifer being a sweet and attentive husband and father, suggestiveness, possessiveness, that’s pretty much it (let me know if i missed any!)

a/n: okay but like, i am on serious hazbin brain rot, i have written more for HH than any other fandom so far.

Being the embodiment of pride meant that Lucifer constantly flaunted everything to his fellow sins and his people. And being the King of Hell meant he had a lot to brag about. Especially his family. God, Lucifer loved his family and would do anything to talk about them in every conversation.

An overlord meeting about movie productions on VoxFlix? Add romantic comedies, they’re his wife and daughter’s favorite. Speaking with Beelzebub about her different alcoholic beverages? Make sure to make mojitos, they’re his wife and daughter’s favorite.

He took pride in who he married and who his daughter was. After all, they were the royal family of Hell.

“Mom, I think it’s as tight as it can go— MOM!” Charlie’s eyes flashed red as she squealed, grabbing your arm.

“Sorry!” You tilt your head back as you let a laugh fall from your lips. “I thought you said—“

“No no no no noooo!” She turned around, eyes wide. “I think I’m good.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her crown.

Charlie beamed at you and traded places with you. “My turn!”

You hum as she tightens the corset around you, eyes flickering up toward the mirror when you hear the door creak open. “Hey, handsome.”

“Hi, my love.” He pressed a kiss to your hand and then one to Charlie’s forehead. “Hi, apple pie.” He watched his daughter tug on the strings attached to the corset, moving forward when it seemed like you were going to fall from the platform. “Charlie, what are you doing to your mother?”

“Pulling her corset tight—“ She grunted as she held the string in place, tying the back. “There.” You gave her a thumbs up as she finished, watching her glow at your silent praise.

“Gorgeous as always.” Lucifer stole you from your platform, the devil’s tail wrapping around your waist.

“You know? Vaggie is probably looking for me! I should leave…” Charlie let out an awkward laugh and fled for the door. “Text me when you need me for the entrance!”

Lucifer dipped you down, chuckling when you let out a noise of surprise. “You look breathtaking, my love. Maybe we should just skip the gala and do better activities right here—“

“Lucifer!” You lightly smack his chest, face flushed from his words. “You horny devil!”

“Says the queen of Hell.” He captured you in a quick kiss, red lipstick staining his lips. “Come on, Charlie can handle it on her own.” He squeezed your hips as you walked over to the vanity with his head resting on your bare shoulder.

You glance at your beloved with a soft look, “Luce, we didn’t coordinate a whole gala just to have our daughter host it herself.” You clip on a pair of earrings, the golden snake and apple shining through the light. “We also didn’t have these outfits made for us just for them to be wasted away on our bedroom floor.”

“I mean…” He nipped on your exposed shoulder, earning a gasp and glare. “They made you a maroon dress with a slit exposing your legs, my love.”

“Because it matches your maroon and black suit.” You turn in his arms and tug at his lapels. “Which I have to admit, kinda does it for me.”

He smirked as he slowly pushed you up against the vanity, “Yeah? Maybe we should ditch.”

“Nope.” Your hands clasped behind his neck, eyes widening when you feel one of his hands trail down to your exposed leg. “Luce…”

“You started this.” He slotted himself between your legs and continuously peppered kisses to your collarbone and neck, softly sucking. “You’re a tease.”

“Lucifer—“ Your protests were cut off with a quiet moan, but you quickly covered your mouth when hearing him chuckle. “Nope, we’re leaving now.”

Lucifer separated from you, a wide grin adorning his face as he scanned you. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “Let’s go then, my love.”

You raised a brow but didn’t protest, letting him wrap his arm around your waist to guide you toward the ballroom. You both were quickly accompanied by your daughter as you made your way to the landing of the grand stairway.

The lights flashed off and the spotlight projected on the Morningstar family, the crowd’s voice hushed when spotting the monarchy. Lucifer gave a welcoming speech to the sinners, overlords, and sins who attended, making sure to mention his family and how they helped make the gala entirely possible. Final rounds of applause echoed through the ballroom as Lucifer finished off, letting everyone go back to their socialization and dancing.

“Mom,” Charlie caught you before you could follow Lucifer to greet his fellow sins. “Did you… Do you know why… You have bruises on your neck.” She finally mumbled out, eyes not meeting yours.

You felt yourself warm from embarrassment. Not only did your daughter tell you that you have hickeys on your neck, but you stood in the blinding lights with an audience staring at the three of you. No doubt photographers caught this and snapped photos for the internet. “Thank you for telling me, baby. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to murder your father.”

“Mom—“

You scanned the room before your gaze zeroed on Lucifer. He was laughing with Asmodeus before meeting your gaze and gave you a wink. Oh, he was going to pay.

“Lucifer.” You appear by his side. You give his fellow sin a quick smile but turn back to the little devil with a scowl. “Can I talk to you?”

“Of course.” He wrapped an arm around your waist. “It was nice catching up with you, Oz.”

You guided Lucifer back to a secluded hallway, eyes flashing bright red when you were alone. Within a blink of an eye, you had Lucifer pinned against the wall with your forearm.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to know that I went out there with bruises all over my neck? Or, better yet, that our daughter was the one who told me what was on my neck?” You seethed. You were beyond embarrassed and pissed, you’re surprised you haven’t become a full demon yet.

“To be fair, it was more than just your neck—“

“LUCIFER!” You use your free hand to reach up your collarbone. The room felt ten times warmer, and it didn’t help that you felt Lucifer’s devil tail decided to wrap around your calf.

He remained pinned on the wall, giving you a cheeky grin. “This is really hot.”

“Oh, my god!” You release him with a glare. “There’s going to be photos everywhere! What will the public think about—“

“Lucky king?” He shrugged as he let his fingers trail up your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Listen, we’ll get rid of the photos. But is it really a crime to show off what’s mine?”

You grumble a small response, propping your head on his shoulder. “You’re crazy, Luce.”

“I love you too, beautiful.” He chuckled.

The photos never made it outside of Pride Manor, but the teasing you received from the other sins made you flush every time. Lucifer listened to each jeer, a smirk present on his face from the constant reminder that you were in fact his.

Especially when the bruises scattered around you spelled out his initials.

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aireia · 4 months

Text

pretty. — shopping for your wedding gown went a little wrong.

tw/cw: tooth rotting fluff, not proofread, fluff/crack, reader wears a dress + satoru calls them his future wife —masterlist

you smile and place your palms under your chin, wondering how you got to this point. your snowy haired fiancé is currently twirling around with a custom tailored wedding gown… which he wasn’t going to be wearing on your wedding day anyway, because he would never hear the end of it from his first year trio. okay, yuji probably wouldn’t have said anything, but nobara and megumi would bully him out of his own wedding. without a doubt, 100 percent.

your mind tried running through the events that had unfolded over the past two weeks, finally stopping at where everything started.

“pretty.”

those were the only words that satoru gojo had to say the moment the both of you had found the perfect wedding dress for you. detailed right down to the final bits of the dress, it matched you perfectly with your favourite flowers weaved into the design, just the perfect length… it was everything you were looking for.

the sound of your soft laughter brought him out of his awestruck expression. “thank you, but as much as i love it, it feels just a little uncomfortable.” you sounded a little disappointed, and satoru couldn’t help but notice every little shift and movement you made… especially that mischievous look in your eyes and grin plastered on your face the moment you thought of a ‘solution.’

“maybe you should be the one in a dress at our wedding. i’m sure the strongest can handle a little bit of discomfort.”

now, you and gojo had known each other for probably more than a decade. he knew better than anyone else that you were joking. but you were basically challenging him with that last sentence, right?

he abruptly stood up from the couch he was sitting on once you had gotten to changing out of the wedding gown before marching off to one of the nearby employees and asking about any dresses his size, only to be met with the response of, “this is an unusual request, but there are quite a few dresses that would compliment you-” the employee coughed a few times before continuing, “-but we are closing soon, so there might not be enough time to try them on-”

“i'll take all of them.”

“pardon?”

“including the one my future wife chose. okay thanks!”

the total came up to about 1.2 million yen. for a dress for you and those 3 gowns the employee picked out, it horrified everyone present at the counter. everyone but him, of course.

back to present time, that’s how you found yourself being the one and only audience member for your beloved’s fashion show. for a good reason, you wanted to chew him out for spending that recklessly. then again, this is the same guy who decides to buy two of the same items no matter how expensive it is “just in case the other one goes missing.”

you sigh softly before turning your attention back onto him. he’s currently trying on the final dress, and has finally got rid of the sunglasses. you can’t help but admit that he actually looks good in the dress, sparkling with all the right types of gems and jewels, paired with his now visible long eyelashes, he looks pretty.

“so? how do i look!!?” satoru asks with enthusiasm, spinning around you in circles.

“hmm, maybe i should be the one wearing your suit that day instead,” you jokingly say to him. he understood, laughing before ruffling your hair.

“as if i’d let you.” a comfortable silence filled the air afterwards, being broken afterwards by satoru confessing, “i dream of seeing you wearing that in front of me at the altar, you know?”

your eyes at this. you weren’t expecting him to say something like that so sudden.

“i can wear it at night when-” satoru’s sentence was cut off by a light punch to his gut.

“hell no.”

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

@rninies still can't write fluff unfortunately, writing this fried my brain

#signed by aireia!#gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader

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ichorai · 6 months

Text

weave ; coriolanus snow.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; there was a rose in his hand, you realized. white, just like the one he gave to you when he first met your parents. but it wasn’t for you, since he had yet to hand it over— you figured it was for lucy gray. you would’ve thought it was sweet of him, if only you hadn’t been aware of his motivations to gain her trust. still, you’d be a hypocrite if you criticized him for it. you’d also brought something for your tribute.

words ; 6.8k

themes ; mild fluff/angst, action

warnings / includes ; themes of classism, violence/injury, lucky flickerman is a close family friend of reader's, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

a/n ; there will be a fourth part loosely following the events of the movie (obv tweaked for the fic!)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

It was humiliating, how nervous he was. Reaping day. The Plinth prize was just a whisper away—he could nearly taste it: phantom traces of rich chocolate and edible gold on his dry tongue.

The day before the exams, you’d pulled him into the library for one last study session. You whispered that you would botch one of your papers for him—he certainly needed the Plinth prize more than you. And though he knew that you’d be far more deserving of it (your grades were near impeccable, and impossible for him to try and compete with), he also knew that his pride wouldn’t ever recover from such a blow.

Because how could he face you after that? Knowing that he was… inferior?

And so he told you not to squander your own achievements for him—that he’d figure something out. You spared him a hesitant look, before turning back to your books.

Now that the exams were over and done with, Coriolanus briefly wondered if you went ahead and botched it anyway. An irrational sort of anger flared within his chest. Did you think you were better than him? That he was your charity case?

But all those terrible thoughts—the nastiness sweltering in his chest for days after the exams—dissolved almost immediately after seeing you.

You met him in front of the academy, your dress a lovely shade of crimson, angular at your shoulders but tapering down into flowing ripples below your waist. Like fire, almost. You were glowing, he was sure of it, with the way the sun illuminated only the best of your features—the slope of your nose, the curling of your lips, the glimmer in your eyes.

“Coriolanus,” you greeted with faux formality, tilting your head to the side. He was wearing his dress shirt again—the very one you watched Tigris mend and sew and tinker many, many times. Pinned to his waistcoat was another red rose, matching the shade of your own attire.

He mirrored you, sweeping into a low bow and brandishing another rose out of seemingly nowhere. “For you, darling. Grandma’am said she could spare it—special occasion and all.”

“Oh, don’t call me that,” you said, rolling your eyes at the ridiculous pet name. It was what your parents called each other when they thought nobody was around to hear it—it made you feel old. “And tell Grandma’am thank you. It’s beautiful.”

He smiled, stepping forward to slot the rose behind your ear. “Ready for your Plinth prize?” he asked, fingers lingering by your face, thumb stroking down your jaw.

You sucked in a breath. “I don’t think it’s going to be what either of us expect.”

There was a brief pause. Coriolanus’ eyes narrowed. Had you botched your exams for him?

With a pointed glance to the academy halls, you nudged him forward. “Come on. Everyone’s already inside. Clemmie keeps asking for you.”

The two of you made your way in, weaving between red-uniformed academy students (the ones who weren’t at the very top) and professors. Behind another set of double doors were where all the top-ranking students were mingling. Sipping on bubbling glasses of colorful drinks, picking off delicate foods from ceramic plates.

While Snow was stolen away from you by a few other classmate acquaintances, Sejanus was the first to greet you, shaking your hand enthusiastically. His palms were sweating. You didn’t quite mind. “Congratulations on finishing exams, Y/N. I know how hard you’ve been studying.”

You flashed him a genuine smile. “Congrats to you, too. I’m surprised you’re here at all, actually. I know how you feel about the reaping.”

His expression faltered. “Ma made me come. Moral support for my friends, and all.”

Ma. The word sounded foreign and heavy on the tongue. Unfamiliar… but rather inviting. Homely, in a way. Despite your initial silence, you managed to recover just fine. In a lowered voice, you whispered to him, “Well, my mother thinks it’s a rather dreadful affair. A waste of potential talent, sending children to their deaths, she says. I can’t help but agree with her. Father thinks it’s necessary, though.”

Sejanus pursed his lips. No doubt questioning the necessity of watching the people he knew from his childhood in the district getting brutally murdered. It looked like he was going to say something else, but before he could, Arachne’s high-pitched voice cut through the two of you. You grimaced, catching Coriolanus’ eyes as he stood right behind her. Judging by his mildly annoyed countenance, he wasn’t having a very good time chatting to her, either.

“Spill it, Sejanus,” she demanded in a prissy tone. “Who won the prize?”

The dark curls on Sejanus’ head shook as he silently scoffed. “Oh, no, I’m not going to ruin my father’s big day. No one here actually likes him but they do love his money… you know what that’s like, don’t you, Arachne?”

Her nose wrinkled in part-contempt, part-disgust. “Funny,” she deadpanned.

Coriolanus stepped around her so he could curl an arm over your waist. “We all know who’s going to win it, anyway.” His grip squeezed over the smooth fabric of your dress.

Arachne rolled her eyes and marched away, off to find someone else to bother.

Left with just the two of you, Sejanus dipped his head and muttered, “Look, I know you guys have had high hopes for this but… there’s no prize. Not anymore.”

There was a terse pause. Your head reared back incredulously, searching Sejanus’ expression for any signs of fibbing. Then you looked to Coriolanus, eyes wide.

“What?” he asked, words sharp, looking almost offended.

“I’m so sorry—”

Before Sejanus could finish his sentence, loud trumpets echoed throughout the hall and all the students began making their way to the plush velvet seats laid out in front of the podium. Coriolanus’ hand slipped away from you, balling into a tight, pale fist. You sat down first, Sejanus going on your right, Coriolanus to your left. Clemensia was on his other side, flashing you an attractive smile. You couldn’t find it in you to smile back.

If there was no prize, what were they going to dole out instead? A free holiday, all expenses paid? A new television? A pair of fuzzy socks?

Your rather prickly thoughts were interrupted when a woman stepped up behind the podium. She was dressed in lavish plum robes, intricate beige patterns weaving through the threads. From afar, it looked like there was flesh stitched onto the fabric. Her hair was greyed and a calculated sort of haphazard. One of her eyes was beady and blue, the other dark and large, almost eclipsing any of the white bits.

She tapped the microphone once, earning herself a buzz of feedback, and tittered with unnerving laughter. Volumnia Gaul was what she introduced herself as. Her voice was low and gravelly. When she went on to say that she was the head gamemaker, your and Coriolanus' heads both snapped to Sejanus, but his gaze was fixed onto the ground, face grim.

After a bit more faddering about the future, Dr. Gaul introduced the creator of the games and dean of the academy—Casca Highbottom. He sauntered forward from somewhere within the seats, mind very clearly addled with a drug of some sorts. Morphling, you’d wager.

“I can’t believe they still allow him to speak in public,” Clemensia said to Coriolanus amusedly. He didn’t spare her a response.

He dragged on his little speech, as if he took pleasure in dangling the golden carrot in front of the donkey. Your hands twitched in an antsy fashion, and you neatly folded them over your lap.

“My own twenty-four top prospects. All waiting to hear the results of your hard studying in this prestigious institution, eager to know who’s won that Plinth prize, no doubt. And a golden future, with it.” He catered forward with a slurred laugh. “However… I’m here to tell you all that there’s been a change this year.”

Murmurs rippled throughout the crowd. Coriolanus’ chin lifted higher, back straightening.

“One last assignment to prove your worth,” Highbottom continued on. He began to pace back and forth, reminiscent to that of a caged tiger. “The esteemed citizens of the Capitol simply aren’t watching anymore. And if the games are to continue at all, there must be an audience, no?”

More murmuring. Your eyes narrowed. Twenty-four top students… twenty-four tributes…

Oh, no.

You sucked in a quiet, barely noticeable inhale with the realization. It was enough for Coriolanus’ eyes to land on you, but you were staring at Sejanus, as if trying to get him to hear your thoughts.

Tell me it isn’t true. Tell me we won’t have to play a hand in such a barbaric game.

“Head gamemaker Dr. Gaul has stepped in to… incentivize patriotic values with her own unique flair, starting with you. The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades.”

For a moment, Highbottom’s gaze drifted over to you. Somewhere behind you, you could hear Arachne’s affronted, “Excuse me?”

You weren’t quite sure why she was upset. It’s not like she had a chance with the prize if it were grade-based.

“Instead, it will be decided by who is the best mentor in the hunger games.”

Your jaw clenched. Clemensia appeared bewildered. Coriolanus looked shaken. Sejanus was visibly distraught.

“As the reaping begins, I will allocate each one of the top twenty-four Capitol students a district tribute. A figure behind the scenes—one who must persuade them to perform for the cameras.”

This was met by a barrage of questions and protests from the students. Highbottom waved most of them away.

“Your role is to turn these children into spectacles. Not survivors… victory in the games is only one of the considerations. Your entire future rests on this last project.”

It was a terrible thing to imagine. Two dozen district lives in exchange for a bit of cruel entertainment for the Capitol. You were never fond of it, but you kept quiet on the matter because you had the luxury of turning your head away. Turning the television off and straying away from such brutalities.

But now that you were being forced to look—no, more than that—you were being forced to pull strings, it was altogether a nauseating thought.

“Oh, and I must warn you… anyone caught cheating to give their tributes an unfair advantage…” Highbottom’s spectacled eyes swept over the lot of students. “Well, they’d just have no future at all.”

More trumpets rang throughout the hall.

The Dean clapped his hands together. “Here we go! Let the reaping ceremony begin!”

Two large screens hanging over the podium lit up for the first district—a tall boy on the left, a sallow-faced girl on the right. Dean Highbottom began to list off student names as mentors.

To none of your surprise, Sejanus got the male tribute from district two. Coriolanus shot him a thinly-veiled, wry smile over your shoulder. “You got the pick of the litter.”

Sejanus refused to meet his gaze. “You forget… I’m part of the litter.”

On the names rattled—districts three, four, five, six, and seven all passing by in a blur.

Juno Phipps was called out for district eight’s male tribute. She sat somewhere behind you, and you could hear her puff a sigh of disappointment.

Then your name came straight after.

Your head snapped from Highbottom to the screen, eyes widening.

Wovey, her name was. She was a small little thing—you could see her frail, skeletal figure even through a grainy screen from afar. The striped dress she wore was patchy and frayed, darkened with soot and dirt. How old was she? She was probably one of the youngest tributes yet—you’d guess that she was barely thirteen, maybe even twelve. Something in your stomach jolted. Momentarily, you’d forgotten that this little girl was meant to be your school project.

District eight. The textiles sector. You blinked at the screen and shifted uncomfortably in your expensive-tailored dress—a dress that very likely came from the very same district.

Highbottom called out names for the next district. Clemensia was pleased with her large, burly tribute from the eleventh district. Coriolanus was yet to be mentioned. You glanced over at him, before reaching out to take his hand. He didn’t look at you, but squeezed your palm in what you read to be silent gratitude.

And finally—with only one tribute left, Highbottom coughed out what sounded to be a laugh. “The runt girl from district twelve… she belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”

The grip he had on your hand tightened until it was bordering on painful. You said nothing about it. Highbottom had always been a grouchy man, but he seemed to have a fixation on making Coriolanus’ life as tormentable as possible.

Lucy Gray Baird.

You watched the screen in fascination when a woman sauntered out from the ranks. Her hair was dark and curly, unruly in a way that suited her perfectly. Upon further scrutiny, you noticed small wildflowers woven through the strands, limp with time. She wore makeup, which wasn’t something you often saw in tributes. A deep blue eyeshadow and slightly-smudged rouge on her cheeks and lips. But what really caught your attention, however, was the dress she was wearing. It was a startling contrast to her name—with its bright, colorful ruffles on her skirt, the front of her corset bearing lovely details of flowers and vines.

She was beautiful.

“What is that dress?” sneered Arachne, in an obvious attempt to rile Coriolanus up. “Is she some sort of clown?”

But suddenly, Lucy Gray stepped out of her path towards the stage and grabbed a girl to her right. Or, more accurately, the girl’s collar. She promptly dropped something down her dress and hurried off. Screams erupted from the screen as the girl writhed with terror, screaming for someone to, “Get it out! Get it out!”

Coriolanus stood abruptly, letting your hand go. You hadn’t noticed just how much feeling you’d lost in your arm, and gingerly shook it back to life.

The grainy screen showed a small snake skitter out of the bottom of her dress.

When Lucy Gray finally made it up on the stage, she was harshly struck across the face by district twelve’s mayor. The blow made her head crack to the side and she went tumbling down. You frowned, but couldn’t take your eyes away.

It took two peacekeepers to haul the furious mayor away. You mutely realized that the girl was the mayor’s daughter.

Lucy Gray laid there, face aching.

And then—singing. A small voice from within the crowd. Five seconds later, another joined. And another, and another. Even through the screen, when Lucy Gray tilted her bruised face up and struggled back onto her feet, you could see the pain in her eyes. Was that her family singing for her?

The woman made her way to the microphone. She began to sing with a quivering lip. Her voice was soft and smooth, silken to your ears.

“She’s singing?” Arachne commented in a pinched tone. “Is she out of her mind?”

“Shut up, Arachne,” you turned to snap at her. She made a strangled noise in the back of her throat, but didn’t say anything else, to your relief.

Coriolanus watched the screen with unsettled eyes. A million thoughts rushed through his mind at once. Most unpleasant, many rageful, some curious.

And to bring her singing to a sudden halt, Lucy Gray screamed into the microphone.

“YOU CAN KISS MY ASS!”

The students burst into laughter, incredulous gasps, and scandalized murmurs. Coriolanus glanced around. He met your eyes, and you gave him half an amused smile. His tribute knew how to put on a show, that was for sure.

He smiled back, and turned to the screen once more.

Lucy Gray lowered herself into a deep bow for the audience. District and Capitol alike.

What an intriguing girl, you thought.

“She’s mentally ill,” Arachne buzzed.

It took every bit of your willpower not to turn around and strike her across the face. But you thought back to the furious mayor, and of the little girl you were supposed to mentor, and kept your hands folded neatly over your lap.

You found yourself at the Snow penthouse that night. There was nothing to study, not anymore, so you lounged on a rickety chair and watched Tigris sew together pieces of blue fabric. She wanted to make you a dress, and though you had more than enough of your own, you couldn’t ever say no to her. Being around her took your mind off of the games, even for just a few minutes.

Coriolanus, however, was pacing back and forth in front of the two of you. Muttering angrily under his breath, nose twitching with disdain.

“He’s sabotaging us. That girl’s never going to win the games,” he hissed, plucking the rose off of his waistcoat and tugging at its petals. They fluttered down to the floor. “You saw her, didn’t you? She’s underfed. Unstable.”

Pot, meet kettle.

You pursed your lips. “Highbottom said you’re meant to make a performance out of them. It isn’t just about winning.”

“Everything is about winning!” he asserted, carding a frustrated hand through his flaxen tresses. “If not the games, then the crowd. And Lucy Gray won’t survive a minute inside that arena.”

You sighed. Little Wovey didn’t seem too likely to survive, either. She wasn’t a fighter by any means. Maybe she was a fast runner?

“So that means we have to make every second before then count.” Coriolanus reached out to cup your face, and you leaned into his touch, kissing his palm. Tigris shot the two of you a side glance and smiled to herself.

“What’re you planning?” you asked.

“I’ll make her sing again,” he said, sounding so sure of himself.

This made Tigris’ brows cinch together. “I wouldn’t sing a note for you if I was her. I wouldn’t do anything at all… not unless I knew I could trust you.”

Coriolanus regarded his cousin with a cynical stare. “She’s district, Tigris. She knows we hate her and she wants us dead. How am I supposed to get her to trust me?”

“We?” you echoed, shaking your head. “I don’t hate her. I don’t even know her. Do you?”

“I—”

You lifted up a hand, effectively cutting him off. “Do you know her, Coriolanus?”

His jaw set with a click. You had your answer.

“How can you hate someone you don’t know? Look, you don’t have to like her. Just convince her that you do.” You crossed your arms, thinking of the little girl you were meant to mentor. It was going to be hard to like her, anyway, knowing that she was going to die soon. You wouldn’t let yourself get attached.

Tigris nodded emphatically. She paused her needlework and looked up at her cousin. “Imagine it was your name they pulled, and you were ripped from your home. I’d just want to know if somebody still cared about me out here. Don’t discount her just because she’s district, Coryo. You might have more in common with her than you think.”

Coriolanus plucked the last rose petal from the stem. You watched him with soft eyes, before drawing yourself up to your feet.

“I think it’s time I head home. My family’s got dinner with the Flickermans tomorrow.” You placed a limp hand on his jaw and kissed his cheek, then drifted down to kiss his shoulder. He smelled distinctly of roses—a fresh sort of musk.

Just as you were about to pull away, he rested his hands on your forearms, rooting you to the same spot. “We should greet them at the station. Show them that they can trust us.”

You searched his face for genuinity. It wasn’t an entirely terrible idea.

“You sure?” you asked. It wasn’t a secret just how uncomfortable Coriolanus was around district folk.

“Yeah. We can… get ahead of the other students. You’re way more approachable than me, anyway. Maybe they’ll like you more,” Snow offered. A part of you wondered what he’d do if you said no.

The thought of meeting your assigned tribute made your stomach do somersaults. Finally, you nodded. “Okay. I’ll meet you at the station, then?”

Snow smiled in a charming manner. He dipped forward to slant his lips over yours, and you melted into his touch, almost forgetting that Tigris was there—until she made a noise of disgust and told the two of you, “Eugh! Do that somewhere else, please!”

Coriolanus was there before you, sticking out like a sore thumb in his academy red against the cold, rusted metals of the train cars. You wore a dark coat over your uniform, trying to look a little more discreet.

“Are they here yet?” you asked, steps quickening to him. He took your hand and squeezed.

“Anytime now.”

The two of you stood shoulder-to-shoulder as you waited, exchanging light conversation. There was a rose in his hand, you realized. White, just like the one he gave to you when he first met your parents. But it wasn’t for you, since he had yet to hand it over— you figured it was for Lucy Gray. You would’ve thought it was sweet of him, if only you hadn’t been aware of his motivations to gain her trust. Still, you’d be a hypocrite if you criticized him for it. You’d also brought something for your tribute.

A juice box. Grape. Still cold, beading with condensation.

You wondered if they had juice boxes out in district eight.

Another train rolled to a grueling halt to the track on your left. The cars were due for a good scrubbing, you thought. They were absurdly filthy—you weren’t even sure what its original color was meant to be.

Peacekeepers stepped up, disregarding the two of you, and began yanking the doors open. There were disgruntled noises coming from inside, and a few minutes later, the grey soldiers were pulling out the tributes.

You searched through the small crowd frantically. The boy from 11th—Reaper, you recalled his name was—caught your eye and just about snarled. You tried your best to ignore him.

When you found the little girl, little Wovey, you slipped away from Coriolanus and stepped forward. In your peripheral vision, you spotted him moving towards Lucy Gray.

Wovey was staring at a particularly uninteresting spot on the ground. She had her skinny arms wound around her midriff as if she was cold, despite the warm temperature that morning. When your shadow fell over her, her large, tearful eyes slid up to meet yours.

“Hello, Wovey,” you whispered in what you hoped was a welcoming, not-at-all-intimidating voice. You told her your name, making sure to enunciate the syllables slowly, so she’d have no problem repeating it back. She didn’t, but perhaps she would later. “I’m your mentor.”

“Mender?” Her voice quaked.

“Mentor. I’ll be helping you in the arena, during the game. Here, I have something for you.” You reached inside your coat, eyeing the peacekeepers warily. Either they didn’t notice, or they were just pretending not to. You wondered how many of them knew your father. “Do you guys have juice boxes back where you live?”

You held out the cold little box for her to take. She blinked at it warily.

“It’s grape,” you said.

She reached out and took it from you. You offered her a gentle smile, and she mirrored you with a shy grin.

“Can I share it?” she croaked. Wovey looked back at the male tribute from the same district—Bobbin. Were they friends?

“Of course, sweetheart,” you said warmly.

Sweetheart? Where’d that come from?

The peacekeepers began rounding up the tributes, shoving them in the direction of a truck. You dipped your head at one of the grey soldiers as he took Wovey’s arm.

“Be gentle with her,” you told the peacekeeper. He met you with a stoic expression, but nodded once, before urging Wovey onward.

It was hard to tear your eyes away from her, but you forced yourself to do so, bounding towards Coriolanus and—

“Lucy Gray,” you greeted, just before saying your own name as you moved to stand beside Snow. Her dress looked even brighter in person, even if it was caked in filth. “I hope Coriolanus hasn’t scared you off yet.”

“Who’s this?” she asked, her dark eyes flitting from Snow to you. “Another mentor?”

“Mmh. Not yours though. I’m dedicated to the little girl from district eight,” you replied.

There was something in her eyes that softened.

“You’ll take care of her?” she asked.

You exchanged an uncertain glance with Coriolanus. “I’ll try my best to. Just like my boyfriend here for you.”

“Boyfriend, huh? Y’all make an attractive couple, that’s for sure.” Lucy Gray smiled, wide and genuine. It faded instantaneously once she spotted a peacekeeper approaching. She plucked the rose from Coriolanus’ unsuspecting hands. “Well… good luck with that.”

The soldier grabbed her by the arm and shoved her into the direction of the car.

Coriolanus stepped forward. “Wait, no—I, hey, I’d like to escort my tribute—”

They all ignored him. You pursed your lips, before following behind two of the soldiers, peeking around the bend. The truck’s doors were wide open for you to slip into. Snow met your eyes when you beckoned him over.

“We can sneak in,” you whispered. “When they’re not looking.”

“Are you insane? We don’t know where they’re going!” he responded in a lowered voice, taking your arm, not unsimilar to how the peacekeepers grabbed the tributes. “I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”

“They won’t hurt me,” you told him. It didn’t dawn on you that Coriolanus was referring to the district tributes, not the peacekeepers. Quick and chaste, you pressed a kiss to his lips. “You coming?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He blew out a frustrated breath, before letting you go and giving you the green light by motioning for you to get a move on. Nerves peaking with adrenaline, you glanced around again, satisfied that no peacekeepers were looking, and rushed into the truck. You felt Coriolanus’ chest brush against your back as he hurried in after you.

You hid in the shadows of the trucks’ slants just as the peacekeepers slammed it shut. A victorious smile stretched your lips thin. You made it.

Oh, your father was going to murder you. Snow first, maybe, and then you. Your mother would probably find the situation all too funny. Though, as you found all the tributes’ eyes locked on you and Coriolanus, you realized that it probably wasn’t funny at all, not in the slightest.

“Hello,” you said in an awfully wavering voice. Coriolanus echoed your sentiment, looking as if he’d seen a ghost.

“What’s the matter, pretty boy?” Reaper asked him with a scowl. “You in the wrong cage?”

“No,” he responded with a minute shrug. “This cage is delightful.”

The truck practically swayed as Reaper stormed closer to him. You instinctively grabbed his forearm, pulling him back. But clearly not quick enough, seeing as Reaper grabbed the lapels of Snow’s academy uniform, shoving him up against the wall with a loud thud. Coriolanus let out an oomf with the impact, blinking sudden white stars out of his vision.

“I’ll kill you right now!” Reaper hissed.

“He’ll do it, too,” warned Dill. The girl from his same district. “Reaper killed a peacekeeper back in eleven.”

“I say we kill them both!” another tribute from somewhere behind sneered.

“I’m in. Nothing left to lose now.”

You stood frozen, afraid that one wrong move would send Reaper into a frenzy. Instead, you spoke calm and clear, “We’re here to help.” Your eyes found Lucy Gray’s, then traveled over to Wovey, squeezed in the corner. “We want to help you.”

Crossing her arms, Lucy Gray said, “Y’all got family back home? They’ll kill them if you hurt a hair on their pretty Capitol heads. Then you. ‘Sides… the blonde one’s my mentor. I might need him.”

One of the tributes from district four curled her lip in contempt. “How come you get one?”

“You all get one!” Snow told her, which earned him another enraged shove by Reaper.

She guffawed—Coral, yes, that was her name—with incredulity. “What, and we’re just supposed to believe you?”

“Why else would we get in here with you?” you said, exasperated. “We don’t even know where they’re taking you guys.”

Coral cocked a brow so high it nearly disappeared behind her choppy bangs. “Whose mentor are you?”

You limply waved your fingers at Wovey. “District eight’s girl.”

“So how come Skinny and Rainbow get special treatment? Why aren’t my mentors here?” Coral leaned down towards Lucy Gray in a taunting fashion, barely glancing over at Wovey.

Lucy Gray smiled, all toothy. “They just got inspired, I guess.”

A moment later, a loud rumbling came from outside the truck. Had they already arrived? There was a whir, and the whole truck began to tilt downward. The doors swung open and shocked gasps echoed throughout the metal cavern.

Reaper relinquished his grip on Snow to grab hold of Dill, and you launched yourself at Coriolanus, trying your best to grapple onto the grooves in the walls so you wouldn’t slip. Lucy Gray yelled as her foot slipped and she went toppling down—

You grabbed her hand, grunting with the combined weight of two people. Coriolanus’ grip on the wall slipped, and he bumped into you, causing your fingers to fumble.

The three of you went rolling down, out of the truck, back into the blinding sunlight. Your shoulder hit the ground hard, another sharp rock digging painfully into your back. That’d definitely bruise later. Disoriented, you dragged yourself up from the ground, frowning at the stinging sensation in your legs. Coriolanus was next to you the next second, grabbing at your face and arms, asking if you were alright. You nodded a few times, before pushing him away to see if the tributes were okay.

All of them were dizzy and aching, but other than that—seemed just fine. Or, as fine as they could be, given the circumstances.

Only then did you look around your surroundings. Metal fencing, dirt pen, discarded tires—Capitol citizens watching with wide, curious eyes. You caught sight of the Capitol Zoo’s insignia on an ice cream stand just past the fencing.

“Ugh,” Coriolanus muttered, pale blonde hair properly tousled over his forehead. “What are all these people doing, staring at us? Don’t they have anything better to do? Don’t they have jobs? The children should be in school. It’s no wonder this country is in shambles.”

“The kids are on summer break, Coryo,” you deadpanned, shirking off your dark coat to give it a good dusting.

Then, a familiar voice made your head snap towards the crowd.

Cameras. Mustache. Coin flip.

“We’ll just give them a chance to stand up and catch their breath—I do have to admit I’m jealous of that big entrance! I’m Lucretius “Lucky” Flickerman, a man who needs no introduction.”

Oh, he certainly didn’t. He and your mother were tight-knit buddies when they went to school together, making the Flickermans good family friends. This was beyond embarrassing.

“Guess where I am today, folks! That’s right, the Capitol Zoo, where this year’s tributes will be held here, on display behind these bars for your viewing pleasure! That’s right, all twenty-four of them—” That was when he turned to point, and his eyes landed on you and Coriolanus. His words faltered. “What in Panem—is that academy rouge I see?”

You stiffly waved at the camera. Absent-mindedly, you passed a hand over your head to fix your hair.

“Hey, Mr. Flickerman,” you called out with a grimace.

Lucky’s eyes bugged out of his head. He exclaimed your name in part-confusion, part-shock. “Hey, what’re you doing in there, kiddo? Who’s that dashing young man with you? We’re live!” He jutted a thumb back at the camera, its lens facing straight at you.

You spared him a stiff smile, eye twitching. Oh, your father was going to pop a blood vessel, you were sure.

“Uhm… well, uh—” The words caught in your throat and you lowered your voice so only Coriolanus could hear you. You had to ignore Lucky’s constant calls for your attention. “What do we do?”

His blue eyes, even paler in the bright sunlight, roamed over the onlookers. “We do what Highbottom told us to do,” he said, rolling his shoulders. He nudged you in the direction of Wovey, and began setting off for Lucy Gray. “We put on a show.”

You watched as the two, mentor and tribute, made their way to the fencing. As if there was a flip of a switch inside him, Coriolanus began to charm the onlookers and children, showing off his pearly whites, introducing himself and his rambunctious tribute. The children were enamoured with Lucy Gray, it seemed, judging by the way they bubbled over with questions about the snake, her colorful dress, her singing.

Lucky was having the time of his life interviewing them. If not for the current situation at hand—that being you trapped in a zoo enclosure—you would’ve laughed at his earnest excitement. Being a weatherman, a reporter, and an amateur-magician was apparently growing far too monotonous for someone with as large a personality as Lucretius Flickerman.

After much deliberation and cheek-biting, you turned and made your way toward Wovey, who was sitting down next to Bobbin on a tree stump. You noted the purple juice box, now crumpled and empty, discarded on the ground between them.

“Hey, guys,” you said, lowering down to one knee to speak to Wovey. “Do you want to go introduce yourself, sweetheart? Win over the Capitol citizens’ hearts?”

The young girl screwed up her face. Whether it was from shyness or distaste, you weren’t quite sure. Perhaps both.

“I’ll be there with you. I promise,” you told her, holding your palm out for her to take.

Tentative, Wovey slipped off of the stump and clutched onto your hand. The two of you approached the barriers, with her nearly hiding behind you, clutching onto your coat.

Lucy Gray told the growing audience about her Covey family, a group of traveling musicians, and how she wasn’t actually from district twelve. Snow watched her with a somewhat proud, victorious expression.

Lucky noticed you approaching, beckoning for the cameras to follow him as he made his way over to you.

Quickly, he covered the top of the mic to lean forward and whisper, “Is the academy aware of what you’re doing?”

“No. Nobody told us not to, though.”

Lucky regarded you knowingly. “And does your father know about this little escapade of yours?”

“No,” you replied, frown-smiling.

“Ooh. Good luck with that.” He spared you an amused wince. Then, he uncovered the microphone and gave the cameras another brilliant smile, introducing you with a flourish of his hands. “I’m here with a close personal friend of mine, Y/N L/N. And here we have their tribute, yes? Who might you be, young lady?”

You tried your best to encourage Wovey out of her shyness, going so far as to pat her shoulder and to gently push back the thin strands of hair falling in front of her face. She croaked out her name and her district, and Lucky asked her another myriad of overwhelming questions.

Whilst the crowd around the ever-charming Lucy Gray was watching her with curiosity and awe, the audience you were gathering looked upon Wovey with pity and something mildly akin to empathy.

There were perks to getting the youngest tribute, maybe.

She was telling them about how she liked to climb trees back in district eight. Yes, that’d be useful in the games.

You looked over to see Coriolanus observing you with your tribute. He gave you a nod, perhaps a second too late. The man found himself wondering if he could somehow garner the crowd’s sympathy using Lucy Gray, too. How’d you manage to do that?

Before he could spare another thought on the matter, there was a dim buzzing coming from across the enclosure. A door opened, and four peacekeepers marched in.

“Looks like you’re going to get whisked away, kiddo,” Lucky told you, nodding behind. “Tell your mother I said hello. And make sure to take a nice, long shower before dinner tonight. Don’t want the smell of zoo hovering over my steak.”

You rolled your eyes as Lucky chuckled at his own quips, then looked down at Wovey with a far softer expression.

“I’ll be back. I’ll come back with more for you. Just hold on for me, okay?”

The frail girl nodded. She didn’t seem to want to let go of you, even when the peacekeepers began to semi-forcefully lead you away, out of the enclosure. Coriolanus wasn’t far behind, being manhandled far more aggressively than you were.

The soldiers shoved you out the door and shut it with a heavy click of a lock, before marching off to the sides.

Coriolanus reached out for you, hands resting on your elbows. “How was it?”

“Could’ve gone worse.” You studied his features. There was a faint trace of dirt smudged across his jaw—no doubt acquired somewhere in the truck or when everyone came tumbling out.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment longer, until you shook your head and broke into a smile, accompanied by a breathy laugh.

“Lucky called you a dashing young man.”

“He’s ridiculous,” he scoffed, and tugged you along to start walking. “Do you think either of us have a chance? At winning?”

The smile melted off your expression, and you grew somber once more. “Well… anything can happen in the arena. We just need to be smart about it. Neither of our tributes are fighters.”

Coriolanus stared off into the distance, brows cinched, heavy with thought.

“They’ll need to be,” he said. “Surviving isn’t enough. Not in these games.”

Your lips parted, wondering what in Panem he could mean by that. Did he really expect Lucy Gray to become a killer overnight? Or was he planning for her to do something else? He didn’t seem to notice your perturbed disposition, and kissed the side of your head.

Just as Coriolanus walked you to your doorstep, you gripped his hands, and your tone suddenly became very serious.

“I just wanted to tell you—before Highbottom announced the mentoring change, I was sure one of us would win the Plinth prize. And, well, I was going to give you the money if it came to me because I definitely wouldn’t need it. But now, since there’s a good chance neither of us are getting it…”

Snow’s features twisted with evident dismay.

You squeezed his hands with yours. “I can get my parents to pay your university tuition, if neither of us get that Plinth prize. Please, Coryo, don’t take this as charity. Take it because I care about you. I don’t want you to get caught up in… winning these games. Whatever you’re planning for Lucy Gray… I can’t see it being anything she’d be willing to do.”

It might’ve been a trick of light, but you could’ve sworn you saw an irksome glint flash across his eyes. He bitterly came to the conclusion that you probably did botch one of your exams for him—not that that mattered now. Besides, it was you offering money, not him begging for it. The placating thought made it easier for his features to slip into a reassuring, easy softness.

“I appreciate the offer, I really do,” Snow said, cradling your face as if you were a fragile piece of china. Yet his touch felt bruising all the same. “But you shouldn’t worry. I don’t think Lucy Gray is going to win. Not on her own, at least. So I’m going to help her—and Highbottom is going to regret ever trying to make an enemy of me.”

He dipped forward, brushed a whisper of a kiss along your cheek, and swiped his thumb over your bottom lip.

And then he was gone.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow x you #hunger games fanfiction #coriolanus snow drabbles #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #young!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow angst

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justauthoring · 7 months

Note

I really like your Tokyo revengers He’s Taken scenario. What if it happened in reverse where someone told the boys that they would be a better fit for reader <3

TOKYO REVENGERS - UM, SHE'S TAKEN?

includes: manjiro "mikey" sano, hanma shuji, baji keisuke and kazutora hanemiya all include xfem!reader!

a/n: this is so late but i felt i should actually do a request for once :) and i always love me some jealous boys!

MIKEY:

The audacity of this man.

That was all Mikey could think.

Did he not know who he was? Did he not know who you were dating? The Invisible Mikey, Toman's Leader and the most handsome boy you knew?

Clearly not.

Frowning, Mikey watches with barely concealed disdain as your classmate (the one you’ve been complaining to him about for weeks now) follows you outside of the school. He couldn’t always pick you up from school with Toman business and the like, but today he’d made sure he’d be able to after you’d texted him the day before that your annoying classmate had proceeded to take his infatuation with you a step further and follow you out of school. It had taken you great convincing to get him not to ‘walk you home’ as he so eloquently put it – stalking more like it – and though you’d tried to play it off, Mikey knew how scared you were.

The second your eyes fall on Mikey making his way over to you, he sees the instant relief that floods through them. Despite everything, Mikey can't help but feel slightly smug at that, hands shoved nonchalantly in his pockets as he crosses the distance over to you.

"Y/N-channn!" He calls out, arms stretched out towards you and with a single brief glance at the boy next to you, you all but race towards him, allowing yourself to fall into his arms. Mikey hates the way he feels you shake slightly beneath his fingertips, and he throws a not-so-subtle glare the classmates way, who – as he figured – is glaring right back at him.

"Y/N," the classmate calls, and Mikey's eyes narrow at his familiarity when regarding you. "Who's this?"

You lean back from his hug, and Mikey can see you look rather annoyed at the question – clearly, you've told him this before.

"Mikey," Mikey cuts in dryly, "her boyfriend."

And he must really not know who Mikey is because he has the gall to laugh.

"Boyfriend?" Haru laughs, mockingly and loudly, head thrown back as you cast a quick glance up at Mikey in uncertainy, trying to gauge he's reaction. Truthfully, Mikey looks unphased. "I thought you were joking about that, Y/N."

And then Haru steps forward, moving towards you; "I mean, you and me make a much better–"

It happens in a flash. Suddenly, you're no longer in Mikey's arms and rather set gently behind him, Mikey’s body blocking your view as Haru's hand that was outstretched towards you is now tightly grasped in Mikey's fist. A quick glance at Haru's face, and you can tell that Mikey's grip is tight, his face twisting with pain.

"Did I forget to mention?" Mikey smiles, "I'm also the leader of Toman."

Haru's eyes widen and he looks scared–well, shitless.

Mikey's grip tightens, finding the way all colour leaves Haru's face rather amusing and the way the panic wells with pain as Mikey bends his arm to the point of just being about to break.

"Now, what was that about you and Y/N-chan being a better match?"

"I was wrong!" Haru cries, voice pitching pathetically, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"

"Don't apologize to me," Mikey shrugs, "apologize to Y/N-chan for making her so uncomfortable for the past few weeks."

Slowly, Mikey takes a step back, allowing you to fall in the view of Haru again, who, near crying, falls to his knees. "I'm so sorry! Please forgive me!"

Cheeks red slightly in embarrassment, you turn to Mikey.

He lets go with ease, Haru falling to the ground with one last cry, before Mikey makes his way to you, pulling you back into his arms with a wide grin.

"Let's go eat!" Mikey calls out with a cheer, snuggling into you. "I want you to feed me!"

HANMA:

"I mean, you're no good for her."

There's a beat. One long, single beat of silence before Hanma can't hold himself back anymore and he burst into laughter.

You, whose stood next to him, looks at him in disbelief, eyes widening as Hanma all but cackles in response to Asahi's words. Asahi, to be fair, looks just a stunned, and with a frown, you step towards your boyfriend, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket.

"Shuji!" You hiss, grip tightening on him.

He falls quiet at that, letting his eyes drift across you briefly, taking in the worried look in your eyes and the laughter stops at that. Hanma lets his eyes fall back on this boy, Asahi apparently, and the frown deepens – you were scared of this guy? He looked like wind might blow him over.

Besides, didn't you trust him to protect you?

A single glance back at you, and you're still throwing worried glances at Asahi, shuffled close to his side.

Guess he had something else to prove then.

"That's funny," Hanma finally speaks up, letting his eyes fall on Asahi with disinterest. "Hilarious actually." But all the humour has left his body, and Hanma simply stares back at the boy with a straight face.

Asahi falters, just slightly.

"I-I mean, you're a deliquent!" He calls out, gesturning in front of him at Hanma, before his eyes fall on you. "I mean, surely you can see that being with him will be nothing but a bad influence. If you were–"

Hanma steps in front of you, blocking you effectively from him.

"You don't get to talk to her," Hanma states rather bluntly.

Asahi turns to him, lips parting.

"You're not worthy enough to talk to her, pipsqueak. So let's keep this between you and me, huh?"

The air changes, thickens, and although you can't see it, you can practically sense as Asahi grows nervous, registering the glint in Hanma's gaze as he stares him down.

"I mean, surely, if you knew I was a... what did you say? Delinquent." Hanma snorts, "you think you'd have the brains to realize I'm not someone to mess with. And I don't take kindly to idiots like you trying to tell me who my girl should or shouldn't be with."

Hanma takes a step forward then, towering over the boy whose skin has grown pale, eyes flooding with fear as he stares up at Hanma.

"I especially don't take kindly to you scaring my girl either."

"I-I–"

Grabbing Asahi by the collar of his jacket, Asahi falls silent as Hanma pulls him up until he's standing on the tip of his toes, kicking his feet beneath him.

"But it seems I screwed up too, huh? My girl shouldn't have to be afraid because she should know I'd never let anyone touch her, let alone look at her if they made her uncomfortable."

There's a pause and Hanma's gaze grows wild as his fist slowly raises beside him, Asahi's cries of panic and pleads of mercy simply a background noise.

"So it looks like I gotta show her why."

BAJI:

"You're loud."

Well, Baji guessed he couldn't necessarily argue with that.

"You're rash."

That, too... maybe.

"You're not very smart."

Uh, ouch.

"You act without thinking. It could get Y/N hurt."

Okay, well that was just rude.

You were always Baji's top priority.

Well, that and fighting. But, still.

"I think I'd be a much better fit for her."

Baji should've figured this is where the conversation was going. Letting his eyes drift across the boy stood in front of him, he takes in the sight of his Toman uniform. He doesn't readily recognize the boy, so he's certainly not in his division.

Ballsy, he'd admit.

But stupid nonetheless.

He's probably in Mitsuya's division, Baji laughs to himself.

Well, not for much longer.

"I'll take your silence as a sign you agree with me–"

"I wouldn't jump to conclusions," Baji chuckles, grinning down widely at the boy. "What makes you think you're so great for Y/N? I know she's happy with me."

Lips parting, the boy pauses; "what?"

"You listed off all the reasons why you think I'm not a good fit for her, right?" He quirks a brow, and the boy nods. "So, tell me why you think you're a good match for her. You win, I'll break up with Y/N. And if you lose... well, needless to say." With a wide grin, Baji cracks his knuckles, baring his fists down at the boy.

The boys eyes widen, and he fumbles for a second, before he steels himself, inhaling deeply.

"Well, I'm smart, for one–"

"Wrong," Baji cuts in, "Y/N doesn't like smart guys. Why else would she have gone for me?"

Faltering, the boy shakes his head; "w-well, I'm a good cook–"

"Y/N prefers cooking herself," Baji shakes his head. "It's her passion."

Cheeks redenning, the boy rushes to add; "I-I'm! I'm strong!"

Baji just laughs; "not as strong as me. You're not even a vice captain of Toman!"

Thoroughly embarrassed, the boy hesitates, face bright red.

"Looks like you lose," Baji sings, stepping towards the boy. "I mean, if you really knew Y/N, you'd know the most important thing."

"W-What?"

"That none of that matters because she loves me!"

"You can't just–"

He never finishes what he's about to say before a fist makes contact with his cheek, knocking him off his feet and sending him straight to the ground.

Baji glances down at him with a blink.

"Strong my ass."

He makes a move toward him, before;

"Keisuke!"

Eyes lighting up, Baji spins, grinning at the sight of you. "Y/N!"

You fall in front of him, eyes flickering from the boy groaning on the ground back to him, "did you get in another fight again?"

Baji shrugs; "the guy deserved it. Not much of a fight either.”

And your eyes fall back on the boy on the ground and there's a flicker of hope where he thinks you might help but, but then after a moment you follow Baji's lead, shrugging, letting him take your hand in his before leading him off.

Guess Baji was right – you really did love him.

KAZUTORA:

"I mean, didn't you go to juvie?"

Frowning, Kazutora glares at the man, Daiki as he'd introduced himself as, in front of him. He was apparently a co-worker of yours, though Kazutora's never heard you talk about him before.

Stuck at this party your work was holding for you as a celebration for the promotion you'd received and your excellent work at the company, Kazutora had gotten a whole half hour of your time before you'd been whisked off by two woman, you offering an apologetic smile over your shoulder in response.

At the time, Kazutora hadn't minded – this night was for you after all and he wanted you to enjoy it.

Now, though? He desperately wanted to leave.

"How do you even know that?" Kazutora asks, his patience thin.

"I did some research when Y/N mentioned your name," Daiki shrugs. "Of course, when she mentioned you she hadn't mentioned that."

It's obviously meant as a jab. But Kazutora knew you weren't embarrassed of him – at least, he'd been pretty sure of that.

"Well, it's not really any of your business is it?" Kazutora cuts in, barely able to contain the snide in his tone. He barely liked socializing with people anyway, especially strangers, but he'd gone for you and because he wanted to be apart of your celebration. It was the least he could do after all you'd done for him.

But now he wishes he’d stayed home if he had to continue dealing with this guy.

"Still," Daiki insists, "aren't you embarrassed? I mean, such an upstanding woman... it's a wonder why she ever chose you."

"I chose him because I love him for him," you cut in and Kazutora’s eyes widen, glancing over his shoulder to see you making your way over to him. You look absolutely stunning, dressed in a floor length Y/F/C dress and when you notice his eyes on you, you smile at him, before it falters as you turn back to glance at your coworker. "But I hardly think that's any of your business anyways."

You fall next to Kazutora, wrapping your arm around his waist as you fall into his side, and the second you do, you squeeze Kazutora's side, and he realizes you're trying to reassure him.

"Y/N–!"

"Honestly, Daiki," you breathe out, voice coming out purposely exasperated as you roll your eyes. "I've had this conversation with you multiple times. I am happily in a relationship and your obsession with my personal affairs is strange and inappropriate. Given my promotion, I could easily have you fired."

Kazutora watches as the man's eyes widen, cheeks bleeding red as he shakes his head; "my-my apologies. Please, you don't have to go that far. I'll... I'll make sure I stop."

You raise a brow, holding the man with bated breath for a moment, before you nod. "Just don't let it happen again."

Daiki scurries off without another word, desperate to get away and Kazutora watches as you let out a sigh, shoulders falling as you shift, coming to stand in front of him, hands falling on his hips.

"I'm sorry about him. He's been... annoyingly persistant about asking me out for the past bit. I thought he'd have stopped when I reported him last week but when I saw him talking to you just now, I realized he hadn't."

Kazutora glances down at you, meeting your gaze.

You understand what he's trying to say before he even does; "nuh-uh," you shake your head, tugging him closer to you. "Don't let a word that idiot says get to you. He's just a pervert anyways. He spends half of his time looking down my shirt and I would never want to be with someone like him over you."

Biting his lips, Kazutora smiles softly; "I love you."

"I love you too," you grin, before slipping your hand into his. "Now, come on, I want to introduce you to my friends."

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tr #tr x reader #mikey x reader #manjiro sano x reader #hanma shuj #manjiro sano #hanma shuji x reader #baji keisuki #baji keisuke x reader #kazutora hanemiya #kazutora hanemiya x reader #tokyo revengers hcs

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werecreature-addicted · 3 months

Note

Do you mind doing an NSFW alphabet for jock werewolf? :^

Aftercare(what they’re like after sex)

He's bad, if he bit you or hit you too hard he'll clean up any bad injuries but if you're not bleeding, or bruised, he's leaving basically as soon as his knot goes down. if he's had a long game he'll lie down with you for a little while and cuddle for a little bit. he's sweeter when he's tired.

Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partners)

he loves your eyes, he likes how wide they get when you're surprised or how pretty you look when you cry. on him he likes his arms and hands, they're big and veiny, he knows you like how they look and he's more than happy to flex for you, or wrap those big arms around your neck.

Cum (anything to do with cum…basically, I’m a disgusting person)

He either cums inside of you, knotting you and blowing his load deep in you, or he's cumming on your face and hair, the bigger mess he makes the better, he likes humiliating you.

Dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Panty Fetish. He steals your dirty underwear to smell as he jerks off, or cum in your underwear and makes you wear them all day with his wet cum pressing against you all day long, sticky and uncomfortable. Once he stuffed your underwear in your mouth as a makeshift gag and he whispers in your ear asking you if you like tasting yourself while he fucks you.

Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's hot! He's popular! he's got a big dick! he gets around. He's got plenty of experience.

Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Doggy or collapsed doggy. he likes being in control and shoving your head down as he fucks you from behind and spanks you. Sometimes he gets lazy and makes you ride him but he gets impatient pretty quick and rolls you over so he can fuck you at a faster pace. He also likes fucking you against a wall, holding you up with your legs over his arms while he drops you down on his cock over and over again.

Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He loves to tease you and will laugh if you do anything silly. A little humor doesn't kill the mood for him.

Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

Look me in the eye. He's a werewolf. every inch of him is covered in thick dark hair. his "bush" is a full jungle, he's not going to shave and no one on earth can make him. He showers a lot though, so at least all that hair is clean.

Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Again, I think we all know my thoughts on how romantic he is. He might make you say "I love you" but that's only to make fun of you. He loves to kiss with tongue so that's kind of romantic, I guess. If you're looking for flowers and candles, he is not your man.

Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He jacks off pretty often. He's got a high sex drive and sometimes it's just easier to take care of it himself. He almost always takes a video of him stroking himself to send to you, You can always tell when he's horny and jerking himself off because your phone is blowing up. Not just videos and pictures but texts detailing what he wants to do with your pretty body and begging for pictures or at least a few dirty texts he can use to get off.

Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He's a huge Sadist, who loves to degrade, humiliate, and hurt. He doesn't like floggers or whips, he usually only hits you with the palm of his hand.

Marking, obviously, he likes to bite you and leave hickeys. but writing too, he'll write "whore" or "bitch" across your face or chest with makeup or markers. Just to claim you as his a little more

Breeding/ creampies, again werewolf, what do you want from me

Dacraphilia, like I said earlier, he loves to make you cry whether it be from pain or pleasure.

Slight corruption/innocence kink. for him it's not so much about taking your innocence as it is, other people think you're demure and pure while you slut yourself out for him and show him how dirty you really are.

Exobisinism and public sex, tied back to the innocence thing, he likes stopping away your public image as a shy little nerd and revealing how depraved you're willing to be for him. and he knows he's hot, he likes showing off his big cock and how well he can make you cum.

Location (Favourite places to do the do)

The school locker room or the back of his car

Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Whenever he's had a good game or a solid workout when the adrenaline is running high. it also gets him hot seeing you sweating, even if it's just a hot day out. Also, well, he's a werewolf, he does go into Ruts, when he's in heat like that breathing in the wrong way will get him hard.

NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He's pretty open to experiment, but he doesn't like toys. He like deep, raw, primal sex. Not cheap vibrators or fuzzy pink handcuffs. God help you if he catches you with a dildo, what? his cock isn't good enough for you? You need some silicone bullshit? he's going to murder you in the bedroom tonight.

Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Receiving. almost exclusively receiving. He loves the way you suck his cock. He will eat you out if you aren't wet enough for his liking, or if he really fucked up and needs to make it up you. Or really, if you're too tempting for him to resist getting a taste of you. So... really it's like 50/50

Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough and hard. he's fast, chasing his orgasm eagerly and openly from the second he sinks into you. the only time he really slows down is if he's teasing you and edging you.

Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Loves a quickie. He'll pull you into a semi-private space to fuck you in between classes or when you have a free moment. something fast and rough, just how he likes it.

Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He's mostly willing to try anything you're into and he's typically the kind of guy who would try anything once. However, asking is the hardest part. He will never give in right away, instead teasing you and mocking you for wanting to try out something so gross and kinky, even if you're just telling him you have a praise kink. Eventually, though he gives in and starts experimenting with whatever it is you wanted to try. If he's not into it, he'll just tell you it's not his thing, and you're a freak for wanting to try it out. If he likes it, all mockery stops and he just acts like nothing happened as he integrates this new kink into playtime.

Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

His stamina isn't bad but it's nothing superhuman or anything. With his knot, you sort of have a forced break in between rounds but he can usually go two or three rounds before he gets tired. and he lasts a good while, at least long enough to make you cum. if you want to try out "stamina practice" he'd be down.

Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

like I said toys are not for him. he doesn't like to use them on you or himself really. if you convince him to try bondage he might get some ropes or restraints but that's the closest he gets.

Unfair (How much they like to tease)

:) if you are interested in how much the werewolf jock bully likes to tease please check out other entries in this series. No, but seriously, he lives to mock and deride you. He loves to deny you orgasms and make you beg like a bitch in heat for his fingers or his dick.

Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He's not loud but he's mouthy. Always muttering something dirty in your ear while he fucks you. He snarls and growls too especially when he's close to cumming.

Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He claims to sleep around a lot and have a bunch of people on his roster but usually, if he finds a good fuck who can tolerate his annoying personality and high sex drive he stays with them for a long time and only sleeps with them. So he might tell you that you're lucky he called you up this time, or that he's busy fucking some other chick. he's lying, he's only sleeping with you right now.

X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

Red and veiny with a pointed tip he presses right against your cervix. He's around 10-11.5 inches when he's hard his knot takes up the lower 1/4th of his cock, huge hairy balls that are always full of hot werewolf cum for you to take,

Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

very high. he likes to have sex at least once a day but prefers more than that. if he has it his way he'll be fucking you 4 or 5 times a day but you have "responsibilities" or whatever. when he's in heat if he's not dead asleep he's thinking about sex and craving it, even then he might have a wet dream and wake up needy and desperate.

ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

a good orgasm makes him sleepy, especially if he's already tired from something else, but usually he doesn't fall asleep right after sex, especially because he usually likes to fuck in locker rooms and secluded parts of the woods. not ideal napping spots.

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #werewolf #werewolf x reader #werewolves #werewolf boyfriend #jock bully werewolf

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lesservillain · 3 months

Text

eddie munson x best friend!reader

summary: a previous request I had to write eddie and a weird girl!reader. edited just a tad for better flow.

cw: none

Eddie watched as you picked up another rock, examining it carefully in your hand before tossing it towards the lake. The two of you had been out here at Lover’s Lake for close to 2 hours now, skipping the rest of the school day after you'd asked him to bring you here during lunch.

The boys laughed at him for how easy it was for you to get him to do anything. But Eddie only gave them the finger as he trailed behind you out of the school. You never asked him for much, so who was he to deny you?

You and Eddie had known each other since he moved to the trailer park to live with Wayne. The two of you fell in and out of friendship over the years as you both went through the motions of life that got you to where you were today.

Sometimes you two were inseparable, and other times you kept to yourself. Choosing to be alone for weeks or months on end until you would knock on his trailer door like you'd just seen him yesterday. Many deemed you weird for your antisocial behaviors, including your own mother. But, Eddie knew you would come back around eventually, and he always welcomed you back with open arms.

With his legs dangling out the back door of his van, he brought a newly lit cigarette in his mouth to chase the joint he had just finished as he watched you do…whatever thing you needed to get out of your system today. He should have known you were going to want to spend the day outside with the overcast that had been looming. You hated the heat from the sun, preferring the shield of the clouds to cover you while you look for different bug or flowers or whatever you deemed worthy to be picked from the ground.

“Oh, Eddie!” Your excited voice had him jolting straight up, greeted by the site of your bright smile before him. “Look! This one’s got a fossil in it!”

Eddie opens his hand for you to place the rock in it. Your discovery stays hidden until you pull your hand away from his. And, sure as shit, there’s a print of some old ass plant or something on the side of the little rock.

“Woah, that's fucking cool,” he says, matching your energy for your find. He hands it back to you and you hold it in both hands, face beaming at your discovery. Eddie likes it when you get like this. The pure, unadulterated bliss that beams from you feels like it could cheer him up on his deathbed.

But after a moment, your expression falters. A crack in the joy of the moment that Eddie clocks right away.

“What?” He asks, looking at you even though he knows you wont give him eye contact back.

“Eddie, why do you hang out with me?”

Eddie reels back. It’s not the first time you’ve dropped heavy questions on him before, but he wasn’t expecting you to hit him with that one.

It was one he wasn't sure how to answer. Mostly because the answer was complicated.

Why was he your friend? Why did he like having you around? Why did it kill him when you distance yourself from him?

Okay, maybe the answer wasn't really that complicated. Rather, admitting it was.

Because the truth is that Eddie is completely head over heels for you.

Ever since he’s known you he knew you were it for him. You never thought that he was a freak for having a dead mom and a jail bird dad. Never judged him for being poor even for trailer park standards. Certainly never made any remarks about his music tastes.

He hadn't always been subtle about his feelings, telling you when you were younger that he would marry you someday. He still gets a kick when he thinks about the way your nose scrunched up at the suggestion.

He would pester you any chance he could, and Wayne had to tell him to not be so forward or else he was going to scare you off. Little did Wayne know that it would take a hell of a lot more than Eddie’s strong personally to push you away. He eventually realized how well you could meet Eddie’s energy, calling the two of you a match made for trouble.

Because Eddie loves when you would barge into his room without knocking to show him a painting you’ve finished. Or when you would tap on his window at 3 am because you couldn’t sleep, knowing he was probably still awake too.

He loved when you would join the Hellfire Club at lunch, telling Grant to move so you could sit next to Eddie’s spot at the end of the table. He loved that you wanted to be around him, and he wanted to be around you just as much.

“Because we’re friends,” he says casually. Your eyes lift to meet his. He can’t tell you how he feels. He can’t risk giving you a reason to run away from him. “It’s been like, what, 10 years now since we started hanging out? Why do you want to know now?”

Your eyes shift down, avoiding eye contact with him once again. You must be worried about something he thinks. He wishes he could read minds just to see what you’re thinking.

“I was just wondering," you say in a tone that tells Eddie you were not just wondering. "Don’t want you to think you’re obligated to hang out with me or anything.”

“What?” He shakes his head incredulously, laughing at the absurdity of your assumption. “I don’t feel obligated. I like hanging out with you. Promise.”

He sticks his pinky out for you to twist with yours, something you’ve been doing since he pinky-promised to be your friend when the other kids said you were too weird.

But you don’t accept it, crossing your arms over your chest and curling in on yourself. Your boot shifts as you nervously roll a rock under your heel. It’s quiet for a moment, and Eddie drops his hand slowly, not liking the way the air is shifting around the two of you.

Something feels off. Final.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to hang out anymore, Eddie,” you say matter of factually.

Forced. He can tell you’re putting on a front, like the one you put on for your mom. He wonders if she’s got something to do with this.

Eddie’s throat feels dry, breathing in through his nose to keep himself together.

“I don’t know why you would think that. Did I do something—”

“No,” you cut him off, looking at him in the eyes for a few seconds before averting your gaze again. “It’s not you Eddie. I just…”

Eddie stares at you with his big brown eyes hoping you’ll give him something, anything to try and fix whatever has you feeling this way.

“Don’t you want a girlfriend?”

Well that was the last thing he expected you to say.

“I’m sorry, what?” He blinks up at you, confused at where this conversation is going. You take a sharp breath through your nose, and huff, brows pinching as you become visibly upset.

“Well you and Jeff and Gareth were talking about how hot the cheerleaders uniforms are, and — and you said that if you had a chance you’d like to see what's under their skirts—“

“Okay, hold on, I didn’t say that,” he says defensively, but you give him a look that makes him back track. “Or, even if I did, I only said it because it was Gareth and Jeff. I didn’t really mean it.”

“I’m not mad that you said it, Eddie. I just," you breath in, a slight hitch in your throat as you do. "…I hear what those girls say about me…about us and…I just feel like…I—I,” you sniffle, “I don’t want to be the reason you can’t get a girlfriend.”

Eddie tries so, so hard not to laugh. Like, he’s really trying to hold it in because you’re clearly very upset. But he can’t suppress wide grin that slowly creeps across his face.

“Sweetheart,” he finally says, “You don’t really think that do you?”

Your only response is a silent nod and Eddie’s heart only grows more for you.

“Trust me, you’re not why I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says with a tone of self-deprecation. It’s not the full truth, because technically you are the reason, just not in the way you think. “Those cheerleaders wouldn’t want me whether you’re around me or not. And it’s not like there’s a line of girls dying to date me or whatever.”

He twists his rings around his fingers, waiting for your response. When he looks up, you’re looking at him like he’s got three heads.

“What?” He laughs.

“Are you joking?” You ask him very seriously.

“Joking about what…?”

“That you don’t have girls trying to, you know, get with you…”

“Oh, no, definitely not.”

A smile finally cracks on your face at his words, and an immediate relief washes over him. The tension in your body visibly washes away and you take a step closer to him.

“Okay,” you say with a soft smile.

“Can I ask why you’re so worried about me getting a girlfriend anyway?”

“Well, my mom said—“

He raises his hand, stopping you mid sentence, “That’s all I needed to hear.”

It warms his heart when you laugh, melting all the worries away. Though, he still can’t help feeling like he could lose you forever at any given moment. It would gut him if you really did decide that he couldn’t be in your life anymore. He already gets sick at the thought of you meeting someone else, someone other than him, and moving on to leave him in the dust.

“Why do you hang out with me?”

He likes the way your eyebrows shoot up when he turns your question back on you. He thinks that he’s got you just as flustered as you had him, but you look at him with a shake of the head as you speak very matter of factly.

“Because I love you.”

Eddie has to catch himself before he can get too excited. This is you that he’s dealing with here. And you could mean that in so many ways; as a friend, a brother, a lover. And, god, did he hope you mean the ladder.

“Love me how?” He asks carefully, trying his best not to sound to excited.

“Like…well, sometimes, when you do stuff that’s, like, really cute or makes me happy, I just want to—“ You bring your hands to his face, something you’ve done many times over the years when he’s going on about D&D or music or even just when he’s reading. He always assumed it was your way of expressing that he was being a bother or overstimulating you, so he would usually stop or change the subject. “—just grab you and kiss you.”

Eddie knows his face has to be as red as a tomato. His heart is going a million miles a minute and he can barely keep his breathing steady.

Holy shit is this happening?

“You want to kiss me?”

You nod, “Yeah, like, a lot.”

“Why haven’t you?”

Your eyes practically bug out of your head, dumbstruck at his words.

“I can do that?”

“Please?” It comes out breathy, meant to be a joke, but almost as a beg.

And so you do. Your soft, mint chapstick covered lips hastily meet his, head tilted ever so slightly so your noses don’t bump as if you’ve done this before. Have you done this before? Certainly not with him. It makes his blood boil thinking that someone other than him has ever gotten a chance to do this with you.

The feeling of your fingers gliding across his scalp, nails skimming in a way that sends goosebumps down his arms. He takes the opportunity to bring his own hands to your hips, pulling you closer to him to deepen the kiss.

When you finally pull away, Eddie leans in to chase after you. And when he finally opens his eyes, he feels sick—lovesick at the sight of your pleased smile. The way you’re looking at him with a sparkle in your eye makes him feel like he could do anything.

“Wow,” you say between the two of you.

“Likewise,” he says with an airy chuckle.

“Can I do it again?” You ask shyly.

“Sweetheart, you can kiss me whenever you want,” he says dreamily.

“Really?”

He hums in response, cut off with a hmph as your lips meet his again.

And again.

thank you for reading.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #best friend!eddie munson #best friend!eddie munson x reader #best friend!eddie munson x best friend!reader #eddie munson x weird girl!reader #eddie munson x wg!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson st #eddie munson blurb

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13uswntimagines · 4 months

Text

Spiral (Alessia Russo X MMA!R)

Request: Could you maybe do something where less isn’t around to help r through something and r is spiraling more and more while needing someone to bring her back. One of Alessia's teammates has to kind of shout at r and tell her to kneel or something for her to be grounded featuring Mary (and Lucy slightly)

Part of The come Down universe

Warming: D/s elements. Blood and violence (mentioned but nothing graphic- R punches a wall several times).

It was easy for people to believe that you had an easy life, filled with nothing more than champagne problems and affluenza.

All they saw were the press conferences and interviews after fights where you were riding high on your success. They didn’t see the weeks where you trained upwards of 18 hours a day and ate so strictly that even your water content was measured.

They didn’t see how difficult it was to balance your career and Alessia’s, and the weeks you sometimes went apart.

They didn’t see the nagging injuries that followed you like old ghosts.

And they thought the 1% of your life they saw was enough context for them to make assumptions about the rest of your life, including your relationship with your girlfriend.

You had never been big on social media, but that didn’t mean you were entirely shielded from it.

Especially not when the date for your title fight against Justin Gathje was announced.

Dana wanted you to hype the fight, to make a comment about how wild Justin was in the cage, and how your far more technical style would be a good match.

And you thought the spare moments you had sitting in Alessia’s national team cubby while she did her final lap around Wembley for the fans was the perfect moment.

But as you flicked through your Twitter app, you, realized very quickly that it was a terrible idea.

Justin had already commented on the fight and accompanied his post with pictures of you in the stands a Wembley dressed in your girlfriend's jersey and one of him sweating in the gym.

I think a championship contender should at least be putting in the work instead of fucking off with a bitch who deserves better. #gonnasilencethegolddigger

You knew that it was a stupid post. It made no sense because the fight was 20 weeks away, and starting training camp now, three days post-fight, would only lead to burnout and injuries.

You knew that it was completely untrue considering you had met Alessia at UNC where you had a nice wrestling scholarship and she had a soccer one. There had been no gold to dig.

But that didn’t stop the general public from hopping on the hate train.

There were thousands of replies, and mentions and posts clogging your feed about how undeserving you were.

About how awful of a fighter you were.

About how Alessia deserved someone who could support her.

But it wasn’t the comments from the general public that bothered you.

It was the ones from her former teammates that dug into your brain and stuck.

Her own family didn’t want her so much they shipped her off to America, so it’s sad she’s dragged a stand-up baller like Lessie into her mess. She didn’t deserve her state championship either. #alwaysridingcoattails.

Her own family didn’t want her

Dragged Lessie into her mess

The words burned into your mind, so you saw them every time you closed your eyes, getting more and more bold each time the number of interactions went up.

1000

15,000

300,000

2,000,000

You launched your phone across the room, uncaring how it smashed into a million pieces on the stone like it would smash the image on the screen.

Like it would shatter the tweet and the shots coming from people who had never met you.

Like it would change how right they were.

You breathed in deeply, trying to quell the growing ache in your chest and soothe the feelings bubbling in your stomach.

Alessia’s scent surrounded you, filling your lungs and coating all of your senses. It was normally like a balm on an open wound or ice for a burn, the remedy to your anxiety and a promise that she was there for you.

That she would always be there.

That promise was part of the reason your relationship took the dynamic it did.

Except this time, her scent didn’t loosen the knot in your chest.

It just reminded you how much you took from her. How much better off she would have been if you had never run into her at UNC.

You shoved yourself out of Alessia’s locker, you didn’t deserve to sit in it and paced the small room.

The walls felt like they were getting closer together, and the air felt too heavy.

You couldn’t breathe.

You needed release.

You paused at the far end of the room, staring at the white concrete.

Your fist hit the cold concrete before you even thought about it, and you relished in the pressure of the hard surface on your exposed knuckles. It was more than when you hit pads, more than when you hit someone else.

It was perfect.

You did it again.

You weren’t enough. You hadn’t been for your parents. You wouldn’t be enough for Alessia either.

Your fist hit the wall again.

That’s what everyone had been saying for months. That’s what your father told you when you tried to make amends.

You could see how right they were.

Stupid worthless

You hit the wall again.

How much better off they would be without you.

“Y/n?”

You didn’t even blink at Ella’s voice.

You weren’t good enough. How could you ever be?

You had been birthed by two drug addicts more interested in their own highs than in raising a child. Your neighborhood MMA gym was the only place you had ever found food and safety. How could you ever be enough for Alessia who had been raised by loving parents? Who didn’t have to scrape and claw for food scraps?

Who didn’t crave the freedom you found in total violence. In the destruction of a human.

In the destruction of herself.

“Y/n stop,”

Hands gripped your shoulder, trying to prevent your arm from moving as you launched it again at the slightly pink wall.

It didn’t work.

Your hand slammed into the wall again.

It wasn’t enough. It didn’t hurt enough to ease the volcano in your chest.

You needed more.

“Y/n please,”

Ella’s voice sounded very close to your ear and stinger arms wrapped around your stomach, trying to force you away.

A guttural sound left your lips as the arms were finally able to pull you away, and Lucy stepped between you and your only solace.

You needed it.

“Calm down,” Mary hissed, her arms tugging you again.

You were too out of it to wonder when she had gotten there.

“Go get Alessia,” Lucy said, looking over your shoulder towards who you assumed was Ella. “Now,”

You fought against the arms restraining you.

Keeping you from the only thing that would make the ripping feeling in your brain go quiet.

The door slammed shut and you were forced back another step by strong arms.

“Y/n you need to relax, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Lucy held her hands up as she took a step towards you like you were a wild animal.

And you supposed you were.

Wild and out of control. Spiraling into oblivion.

Lucy Met Mary’s eyes when you fought harder in the keeper's hold, your eyes wildly flickering as your limbs flailed.

This was well out of their ability to fix.

“We have to do it,” Lucy said, and Mary instantly knew what she meant.

Mary nodded once.

She knew you better than Lucy did, so she knew it had to be her if they wanted it to work.

It was the only thing she could think of to help you.

The thing that Alessia would do for you

They had only seen it happen once.

It was the only time the keeper had seen your dynamic's heavier side. The only time Alessia looked truly dominant, and you looked submissive.

Mary squared her shoulders, drawing up to her full height, picturing in her mind the way Alessia had touched you and the tone that she had used. Soft, but dripping in authority that had shocked Mary.

She tried to remember the words your girlfriend had used, the way her fingers pressed perfectly into your skin to make you melt.

She pulled away from you slightly, drawing her hand from your stomach to land heavily on the space where your shoulder met your neck.

“Y/n,” She said mimicking the sheer dominance that Alessia’s voice held that night. “I think that’s enough darling. Kneel for me,”

You froze.

A shiver ran the full length of your spine at the familiar words, and your shoulders rolled like a physical weight had been added to them.

You blinked as the order filtered through the fog in your brain, registering that though it was familiar, the voice that had given it was not.

Her arm loosened around your middle as all of the fight left you, but she kept the grounding hand on your neck.

You leaned into it, breathing in through your nose and very slowly releasing it through your clenched teeth.

You sagged with each exhale, sinking very slowly until you were kneeling at Mary’s feet.

Your head bowed, and you rested your hands palm up on your knees as another rattling breath left you, pressing back into the hand still on your neck like it was the only thing keeping you from floating away into oblivion.

Mary stood frozen, staring at you as you fixed your posture (Alessia hated it when you slouched) and all of the tension, her eyes darting up to meet Lucy’s.

She hadn’t been sure that it would work. That you would listen to it because she wasn’t Alessia. But now that it had, she wasn’t sure what to do.

She didn’t know what came next, or how to navigate it without crossing your boundaries.

“Good job Y/n,” Lucy said, keeping her voice as soft as Mary’s. “We’re just going to stay here and calm down, alright?”

You let out another shuddering breath, more ripples quaking down your spine, and Mary very gently ran her thumb in circles at the back of your neck, hoping it would help to keep you settled.

She knew it was the touch Alessia always took when you were anxious or nervous, but she was also very much aware that she was not Alessia.

“And then we’ll get one of the trainers to look at your hand after Lessie gets here,” The defender continued, her eyes trained on where your jeans were slowly turning red with the blood from your hand.

“But for now, we’re going to just stay right here,” Mary repeated, letting her thumb graze the nape of your neck.

*******

“Less,” Ella’s voice cut through the sounds of the fans calling for Alessia’s attention, the panic in it drawing the strikers eyes before the midfielder skidded to a stop beside her.

“What’s happened?” Alessia asked, passing the shirt she was signing back to the young girl who had handed it to her.

“Y/n,” Ella panted, her eyes wide, afraid despite the cameras pointed their way. “I’ve never seen her like that,”

Alessia frowned, turning away from the fans and wrapping an arm around Ella’s shoulder to give them some semblance of privacy.

“Seen her like what?” She asked, her tone low with something… darker lingering under the surface.

Ella shook her head, unable to describe it with words. “I need you to come, quickly,”

“Ok,” Alessia agreed, following after the midfielder with little question.

She knew that whatever had happened had to be bad to cause that look. To have Ella say it in front of the fans.

Ella sprinted back towards the tunnel with Alessia on her heels, weaving between equipment people, and players until they reached the locker room.

Leah stood outside the door, directing players to the other showers.

Alessia’s frown deepened. “What’s going on?”

“We thought a smaller audience would be better,” Leah murmured, stepping aside for them. “Looks pretty brutal mate,”

Ella patted her back and she stepped towards the door, steeling herself for whatever was inside as she pressed it open.

Her breath caught in her chest as she took in the scene in front of her.

It looked like something out of a slasher film.

Red covered one of the white stone walls, dripping onto the gray floor in dime-sized circles to where you were sitting. No kneeling between Mary and Lucy, a dark patch forming from where it had soaked into your jeans.

Her jaw clenched at your position.

It was hard for people to understand but kneeling was something… intimate between the two of you. It was a show of the trust that you had for her to take care of you. A way to reinforce the power dynamic in your relationship.

It had taken you a long time to feel comfortable enough to let yourself be vulnerable enough to kneel for her, and she treasured how willing you were now. How you seemed to… crave the position.

For someone else to put you there didn’t sit well with her.

Neither did the way Mary’s hand was holding the back of your neck.

“What happened?” She grit out, her eyes flitting between your form and the two women on your either side.

“we’re not entirely sure. We just caught the tail end,” Mary murmured, her thumb rubbing soothing circles onto your skin.

Your eyes were closed, but Alessia could see the tension in your posture. She could see how on edge you were.

How close you were to subspace.

She snooker her head. “And you thought that this was the solution?”

She wanted to scream at her friends. To give them a lecture about consent and safety and trust (even though you wouldn’t be kneeling for them if you didn’t trust them).

They didn’t know your boundaries. This hadn’t been discussed. What if it went wrong and they didn’t recognize the signs of you passing the point of consent?

She knew you often leaned into the dynamic you shared to calm down. To let go, but she knew your limits. She knew your safe word.

She knew all of the signs to look for, because you craved pain when you felt unstable (a habit that had lingered from your childhood), and you wouldn’t always vocalize your limits.

She worried how far backward you would slip after this.

“It was the only way I could think of to get her to calm down. She wasn’t responding to anything else Less,” Mary explained, her voice very soft and gentle. “I tried to do exactly what you do,”

“We also stayed away from honorifics,” Lucy added. “We knew we were overstepping a bit as it was and didn’t want to push further than we had to,”

Alessia wanted to snort that overstepping was an understatement, but she didn’t.

That wouldn’t help you.

Avoiding honorifics had been a very thoughtful touch.

That would have sent you careening into sub-space, and she doubted either of them could have handled that.

“Alright,” She said, taking a deep breath.

She would need to talk to them later, but right now, her priority was you.

And getting to the bottom of what happened.

Of what changed in the 10 minutes you had been left alone.

She settled herself on the bench, placing her sweatshirt on the ground near her feet to act as a cushion for you, and taking a deep calming breath before she let her eyes fall on you.

“Babygirl,” Her voice came out stern, but not angry, and for the first time, you raised your gaze from the floor to meet hers. “Come here,”

She gestured towards the spot at her feet, and without hesitating, you carefully pulled out of Mary’s grasp and crawled to her.

Her fingers weaved through your hair, and she guided you to rest your cheek on her thigh once you settled on the sweatshirt. “What’s going on sweet one? Talk to me,”

You nuzzled into the soft skin of her leg as her nails dragged against your scalp, trying to remember how to speak.

How to form words that would accurately describe the tearing feeling in your chest.

“Not enough,”

The words were horse as they left your lips, heavy and wet like they had been pulled from the depths of your soul.

Alessia hummed, her nails digging more deeply into your hair. “What’s not enough?”

Your breath rattled in your chest, shaking through you to your core.

At the depths of it, you were not enough.

You would never be enough.

“I’ll go get a doc,” Lucy murmured before you heard the sound of the door.

“What is not enough,” Alessia asked again, more insistent.

“I’m not enough, Miss,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Alessia tutted. “We both know that’s not true,”

You groaned.

It was true. The whole internet believed it.

“It is,” You insisted, pulling away from her warm hold to meet her eyes. “Everyone believes it,”

“Who is everyone?” Alessia pressed, staying calm and even. Being your stability.

“I think this has something to do with it,” Mary said, and your eyes snapped to her, where she was holding your demolished phone, the tweets still lighting up the screen.

You had forgotten she was still here.

“What is it?”

Alessia held her free hand out for it, using the other to settle you back against her thigh.

“Bullshit,” Mary answered, passing the phone to your dominant, moving slowly around you, like she was afraid to spook you.

Alessia hummed, flicking through the images on your cracked screen.

The room was silent as she read the words that had set you off, and you let your eyes slide closed, enjoying her closeness.

Enjoying the ability to let go, and trust that she would take care of it.

You ignored the sound of the door opening again, and feet approaching you and Alessia. You didn’t care if people saw you. You knew that she would defend you if you needed it.

“Sweet girl,” Alessia said, fingers tightening in your hair, and you opened your eyes to meet hers over the phone. “Let them look at your hands,”

Your eyes flickered towards the medics, kneeling in front of you, Lucy standing protectively behind them with Mary.

You hummed, slowly lifting your dominant hand and holding it out towards the medic.

He took it gently between his own and began to examine it with a frown.

“I think she needs x-rays,” He said, looking over you towards Alessia who was still scrolling through your feed. “And I can wrap it after that,”

“Alright,” She said, putting your phone down. “We’ll meet you in the training room in just a moment. Can you three give us a second?”

The medic nodded, retreating with Mary and Lucy.

“Take your time,” Mary paused in the doorway. “Me and Luce will get cleaned up and meet you,”

Alessia let out a sound of agreement.

She waited for the door to close before she very gently pulled you up from your knees and into her lap.

You rested your cheek on her chest, tucking your nose into her still-sweaty jersey.

This time her scent didn’t set you on edge. It joined the feeling of her warm arms wrapped around you and her chin on your head, making you feel safe and warm and cared for, even when you didn’t think you deserved it.

“You know all of those tweets are bullshit right?” She asked after your breathing had evened out. “They’re just trying to get under your skin,”

You made a low noise, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“You are deserving because you are amazing. You are an incredible fighter, and a good human despite the shit hand you were dealt,” She continued. “I love you, and I will always be here for you. Whether you are the world champion, or we’re eating spam and crackers on my bedroom floor,”

Your eyes slid closed and you buried your face in her chest, your lips lifting just a bit at the mention of your favorite snack from college.

From when you were too broke to afford dinner on the weekends.

It didn’t entirely fix the crumbling feeling that accompanied each beat of your heart, but her words were like a tether holding you to reality.

She had loved you before you were a UFC star and she was England's Star Girl, and she would love you after.

That was all that mattered.

She squeezed you tightly and kissed your head. “Let’s go get your hands fixed and then we can go back to the hotel and watch Love Island before bed, alright?”

You hummed again.

You knew a talk about your coping mechanism, about the wall you had destroyed, would also be included after you had come down.

But you didn’t mind.

You and Alessia would get through it. Together.

#woso imagines #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #the come down universe

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youtellmeman · 4 months

Note

Hello ma’am 😈 I am here to request 😈 I’m thinking neteyam and reader are like enemies😡 they do not like each other okay but somewhere somehow they accidentally perform tsaheylu with each other and then they bang 😦

Yuh first request done-zo I really enjoyed writing this so i hope you like it.

Neteyam Sully x Fem!Na'vi!reader

Rated R

includes- smut, ma as a pet name, baby as a pet name, fingering, p in v, dirty talk, fem genitailia, accidental tsaheylu

In this tsaheylu is only explicitly erotic the first time around and it can be used to simply better understand what your mate is thinking/feeling.

Na'vi word translations

tiwan- love, wiya- damn, tewng- loincloth, knalu- fuck, Uvang- damn, skxwang- moron,imu’ta- bitch

italics= spoken in na'vi

Hating Neteyam, had been easy. After all it was all you'd ever known when it came to the blue boy. You’d always seen him as so, so irritating.

He always thought he knew better, better than his siblings, better than the other kids in the village, and better than you. That being eldest son to the Olo’eyktan made him so much smarter than those his age and unfortunately it seemed that trait would follow him to his grave as even now, after being accepted into the clan as an adult,he held himself to be so all knowing.

“What are you doing out here?” the voice came from behind you, his voice. “This area of the forest is dangerous, you should have someone with you.”

“Why, because I am incapable of taking care of myself?” It's a loaded question,but you can't help the way he is so quick to get under your skin. Whipping around to meet his citron eyes, raising a brow when you hear him scoff to himself.

“Why must you make everything into conflict?”

“Why must you be an imu’ta who refuses to let me live in peace.” I bite back and the air between us grows tense, eyes boring into eachothers waiting for one of us to break.

“Damn it, you are so difficult for what? I am simply looking out for you, it is dangerous, we both know this.” he huffs angrily out his nose and his tail thumbs against the ground with his growing anger.

“Have you considered that perhaps I don’t need anyone looking out for me? Especially not you, now leave me be and let me hunt in peace.” You roll your eyes and without waiting for a response you start to walk. Slinging your bow over your shoulder as you search for a new, quiet place to hunt.

“How dare you turn your back to me!” You can hear his steps speeding up after you resulting in your pace speeding as well until he manages to catch you. His slender fingers wrapping around your wrist spinning you face him. “You dare disrespect the future-”

“Future! You said it yourself!” You cut him off hissing the words at him angrily, “You hold no authority over me Neteyam so cease this useless display of power. Power that you do not have.” You spit. And maybe if you’d been less focused on the current shouting match you were having you would’ve noticed the small hand wrapping around your queue.

“Regardless of whatever you may think I am owed respect!” He snarls back and before you can you feel a sudden rush through your system, something so new yet familiar and immediately your eyes leave Neteyams face to focus on finding what's caused this surge of energy and what you can only describe as feeling. You find it immediately, honing in the little blue hand wrapped around your queue, your queue that was currently connected to, to…

“Tuktirey!” It's Neteyams voice that cuts through the silence though you can barely hear him,you can barely hear him with the wave of shock that flows through your body clogging your ears like water.

You can tell he's scolding her for a minute or two before she's shooed away, leaving you two alone still connected and you can feel it starting to ebb its way to the surface, the lust. Pupils blown wide as you find Neteyams eyes once more.

You can't find the words to ask why in the world Tuk would think that it’d be okay to connecther brother and yourself. All you can do is search his face and body for any sign he’s feeling what you are, and boy do you find it. Whether it be the rapid rise and fall of his chest or the tent in his tewng growing by the second.

Opening your mouth trying to find the words but you fail once more, or really you're cut off by the feeling of lips against yours as his hand finds its way to the base of your neck holding you close while the other pulls you in by the waist. And as his hips slot themselves so perfectly against yours you try to find some sliver of restraint, a tiny ounce of strength that will let you rip yourself away from him. You come up empty handed.

Hands finding their way to his hair pulling at the roots as you press him closer, pulling a heavenly groan from his lips.You find yourself pulling him back with you until your back meets tree, pulling back for a ragged breath.

“Holy mother.” You huff out in between breaths, Neteyam on the other hand has let his mouth wander from your jaw to neck, sucking dark purple marks onto the sensitive skin about your collar bone intermittently letting his fangs drag against the new purple markings, before coming back up. Neteyam kisses like he wants to consume you completely, it's a mess of teeth and spit as you both battle for dominance, it’s when he bites at your bottom lip that you give up on grasping at the reins letting him take complete control.

As your mouths clash Neteyam gets busy with his hands pulling the knot at the side of your loincloth before hoisting one of your legs up into his hip. Letting the arm that's not holding your leg slide between your bodies, finger sliding down your slick dampened lips, moving between tracing around your clit to moving downward to tease at your fluttering entrance. He does this a few times before you grow tired of his teasing. Pulling back to let your head rest on the bark of the tree.

“Quit it and do something, or are you just as incapable of pleasing a woman as you are at leaving me alo- ohh!” A surprised moan escapes your lips before you can finish the taunt.

“Wiya, you talk a lot.” The smug look that covers his face would have you rolling your eyes if you weren’t so focused on trying to keep them open enough to see anything at all. The annoying bastard had slipped in a finger while you were mouthing off, curling it to hit that spongy sweet spot within while letting his thumb rub lazy circles on your bud. “If I knew all it’d take to shut you up would be to stick a finger in you I woulda done it long ago.” He’s the one taunting now.

“Shut up you skxwang- hah- For you to think I would’ve ever let you touch me like this before. You clearly don’t know everything you claim.” You bite back best you can, and while you know your words hardly have any merit while you’re literally humping the palm of his land looking for more.

“Such a smart fucking mouth, lets see how that changes after I have you cumming around my fingers, hmm?” He leans close while growling out his retort, sliding in another finger as he speaks. And god, it should be criminal that it's him making you feel so incredibly good.

“Fuck Neteyam.” You whimper out and his fingers speed up their unrelenting attack, consistently hitting that sweet spot and thumb moving so quickly against that bundle of nerves it has your knees ready to buckle. “Shit, I-I need more.” You're whining against his neck now, head resting against his shoulder as he continues his assault and you can feel his chest rumble with the groan that leaves his lips.

“You want my cock baby? You want it real bad?” You can only imagine the pride on his face , but none of that matters right now, not when you really really do. So all you can do is nod as moans and groans slip from your lips at the thought.

“No, need to hear you say it. You had so much to say earlier ma , what happened?” It’s the smugness in his voice that leads you to fight against what he wants from you.

“Fuck you.” It’s practically a pant as you pull your head back from the crevice of his neck and rest it against the tree that has you sandwiched between Neteyam. Peering at him from your lidded eyes.

“Tsk tsk, not what I asked for.” He shakes his head and the small grin he wears is nothing but predatory. “You want to cum by my hands, you're gonna do what I say. " The pace he's picked up at the point is unforgiving, his fingers barely even thrust the tips simply rubbing against your most sensitive spot in a way that has you seeing stars and you can feel the coil in your stomach growing dangerously taut. But it's like he can see it on your face that you're growing close, and unfortunately he stands true to his words because as soon as you feel yourself about to teeter over the edge he stops. Leaving you withering against him.

“Nete-”

“Say it.” There's no room for negotiation in his tone, “Say it or you don’t get to cum and if you dont cum on my fingers first you sure as hell aren't getting my cock.”

It's almost pathetic how quick your resolve crumbles.

“I want you, please. Neteyam I want you please.”

“Say you need it.” Now he's just being mean cause he can.

“Fucking hell, need your cock so bad Neteyam, please.” Your breathing is ragged as you practically beg and he can hear the aggravation behind your voice.

“Not so hard is it, Tiyawn?” He quips as his fingers start to move again, thumb finding your clit as his index and middle continue the assault on the inside. And with you being so close prior it doesn’t take nearly anytime at all before your ether again, on the edge of complete euphoria just needing one last push. Push coming in the form of the third finger that ends up slamming into you, filling you up so completely and sending you crashing into waves of ecstasy. Hands finding his shoulders, nails leaving crescent marks in the blade of it as you ride your orgasm. Neteyam helps you through it, paying attention to your complete reaction while his fingered pump inside of you.

Sliding out once he's sure you’ve enjoyed the best of it,dropping your hip to your side, giving you one more openmouthed kiss before spinning you around leaving you to brace yourself on the tree that was once digging into your back. His hand finds the small of your back pushing you to be bent, arching subconsciously, readying yourself for what's to come.

You look over your shoulder just in time to see him rip the string of his tewng in a rush to move it out the way, letting his length spring up and hit his stomach.

To say that Neteyam was well endowed would be an understatement, youd heard rumors before but holy mother they didn’t do him justice. He made eye contact with you as he grabbed himself by the base getting ready to line himself up with your core.

“Like what you see?” And of course he’s cocky about this too. Neteyam raises a playful eyebrow.

“Thought you'd be bigger.” It's a lie, but you can't let his ego go unchecked. Though it doesn't seem too much as he simply sucks his teeth in response, letting a toothy grin spread across his face.

“Mhm, that’s why I can see you clenching at the sight of it then?” He retorts, still smiling as he moves, letting his tip slide between your lips, catching at your entrance. A move that has both of you shuddering in anticipation.

“Neteyam!” you whine out tired of waiting, pushing your ass back with a wiggle in anticipation and to hopefully get him to act sooner.

“Fuck, yeah okay i'm coming.” You can hear him mutter behind you. Properly lining himself this time before pushing in slowly, the girth of his head alone has you gasping for air. He’s slow to work himself in, not wanting to let his desperation for release lead to you being hurt. Eventually however he does bottom out and once he does the both of you let out sighs of relief. He gives you a moment to adjust before beginning to move, pulling back to grind back into you.

Usually this soft caring pace would leave you purring, but this is Neteyam and the fact that he just spent his time finger fucking you so good you see stars just to treat you like glass has you grinding your teeth in want for more.

“More.” You demand throwing a lust filled glare over your shoulder.

“Uvang, you feel so tight around me.” You're not even sure Neteyam heard you, his brows are pulled together and eyes scrunched in pleasure.

“Knalu Neteyam, harder!” You snap, punctuating your sentence by pushing back onto his cock which seems to break his trance.

“Eywa, why can't you let me enjoy this in peace?” His nostrils flare and eyes snap open boring into your own. Leaning forward he braces holds you by your shoulders. Sliding out till only his head is left inside of you before slamming back into you with enough strength to bruise. Switching from his heart shatteringly slow movement to thrusts that could shake Pandora itself. Thrusts that leave you gasping for air that's being knocked out of your lungs with every slam of his hips into yours.

“Oh Eywa! Neteyam fuck, yes!” Your moans are practically prayers as they fill the air around you, Not that he's being any quieter than you are. Moaning and groaning as he leans down to press wet kisses to your spine.

“Shit you feel so good Ma, fucking hell. Its like you were made to be wrapped around my cock, my perfect fucking pussy for the taking ain’t that right. ‘M gonna ruin you baby, mold this cunt to my cock. No one else could make you feel this good right Ma, c'mon tell me i'm right.” It’s hard to make out most of his rambles as he ruts into you like something feral, but you manage nonetheless.

“Fuck, yes Neteyam no one’s as good as you. No one could make me feel- oh my- feel half as good as you, shit!” You say back telling him whatever he wants to hear, telling him the truth. And it has him speeding up at which point you thought was impossible as he continues to ramble on and on about how good you feel around him against the skin of your back. One of his hands manage to find their way around your waist and to your clit, rubbing tight circles while his noises grow more animalistic by the minute and it has you fluttering around him causing him to twitch within you. The both of your peaks growing increasingly closer.

“I'm gonna cum, Net, fuck dont stop!” you warn him of your upcoming release and you can feel the way the knowledge fuels him, his grip on your shoulder tightening as he drills into you with fervor.

“Cum for me tiwan, wanna feel you cum around me, cmon.” He urges you on and soon enough it comes. Surginging through you like electricity, punctuated by a high pitched whine as your legs tremble. Neteyam fucking you through it fighting to hold off his own upcoming orgasm in lew of making sure you can enjoy yours to the fullest and soon enough you start to come down, the way you clench becoming softer and more spaced out as you begin to take deep breaths in order to ground yourself.

It only takes a few more pumps before the euphoria is hitting him like a splash of cold water and he’s quick to pull out and spill his seed on the curve of your ass and back, groaning your name slowly as he works his way through it.

Eventually you both restore enough air in your lungs to disconnect yourselves and get cleaned up. Finding a small and unoccupied pond to wash his essence of yourself along with the sweat you'd worked up along the way before slipping your clothes back on and helping him repair the string of his loincloth well enough that it would not fall off on his trek through the village.

Still once you're both clothed you both take a few moments to be together and fully grasp the fact of what this connection means for the both of you. It's then that you finally find the words you’d lost earlier.

“Why did tuk do it? Why did she connect us?” You ask, your eyes finding his in confusion.

“Our parents.” He starts, “ Sometimes they fight and sometimes when they do they perform tsaheylu. In order to better understand what the other is feeling. She thought it would help us ‘get along’” he finishes explaining and you can't help but laugh at the childlike innocence of it all.

“How sweet in theory I suppose.” You smile up at him stifling a few laughs.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “Remind me to thank her when we get back.” At that you roll your eyes and smack him in the shoulder. “Hey!”

——————

Let me know what you think

Reblogs and likes deeply appreciated

#avatar neteyam #neteyam #neteyam headcanons #awow neteyam #neteyam hc #neteyam x reader #neteyam atwow #neteyam avatar #neteyam smut #neteyam awow #avatar smut #avatar x reader #avatar na'vi #awow #awow imagines #awow smut #awow x reader #way of water #neteyam sully

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helsensm · 4 months

Text

Can’t remember what was the premise for this and I’m too lazy to make a decent comic out of it, so just have this poorly digitalized railao doodle I found in my sketchbook, y’all can add any context you want~

I posted some Kung Lao and mk1 Kung Jin headcanons earlier, so now I think I’ll drop railao thoughts too. Nothing too crazy - I prefer to read/hear about other’s hc more than to think about them myself afgHjHh

- Raiden fell first, but Kung Lao fell harder.

- Lao did confess first tho. After the mk1 events and some chill time together they both realized that they can't stand being separated and stressed about the other’s safety.

- They used to have these red-string “lucky bracelets” when they were kids but stopped wearing them in middle school (prob lost them or because it wasn’t “cool” anymore hah). Later, after mk1 when they officially started dating, they got a pair of matching ones, as a substitute for the wedding rings. 😊 (now go find all of them on my railao art 👀)

- Right now (mk1 and right after) Raiden’s hair is longer than Lao’s, but Lao is growing his hair out so in the future he’ll be rocking that one long-ass braid we all love. 🥰 Also he has no idea how to style hair besides the ponytail and a simple braid, so sometimes Raiden will do his hair for him as soon as it grows long enough.

- Since childhood Raiden collects cool rocks he found around the village and sometimes he gives them to Lao. I suspect that Raiden is a penguin.

- When Lao noticed that the flower petals have a strange tendency to follow him everywhere, he began collecting them and leaving in various places, including Raiden’s home and school desk. After they got together, the petals would follow Raiden on their own volition every time the two are separated. 🌸

- Lao began to pierce his ears right after the school graduation and Raiden thinks he looks cool, but he did only one piercing per ear for himself much later. Although I'm starting to dig Novice’s idea that he can’t wear them because of his lightning powers. 🤔

- Raiden calls Kung Lao just “Lao” or “my Lao” (but not in a “professional setting”, like on missions or in front of people who are not considered their friends). Kung Lao loves giving Raiden cheesy nicknames.

- Lao is so passionate in his affection, he’s borderline aggressive, he kisses and hugs like it’s their last time. Raiden is more sensual and a fan of prolonged physical touch, like holding hands for the whole day.

- Kung Lao is a professional shit talker and yapper, Raiden just nods and listens. He remembers everything tho, even if it’s something ridiculous that Lao himself will forget after five minutes.

- Lao actually can cook at a reasonable level. I also think he’s very creative and resourceful and can make a decent meal from a limited number of ingredients.

- A relatively new follow-up hc inspired by this tt and personal experience discussion with D3rpy: Kung Lao eats like a vacuum cleaner and can’t stand people wasting food because when he was a kid his family had a rough few years when they could barely afford enough food. And although things have changed for the better, it’s a habit now, he’s like a stray animal - you can’t waste food when you don’t know when you’ll eat next. Also this is when he got closer to Raiden’s family, hanging out in his house more often.

#sorry for typos and errors - wrote this while being ✨drunк✨#raiden #mk raiden #kung lao #railao #mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #helsensm art

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snghnlvr · 6 months

Text

birthday cake. / park sunghoon

synopsis : you noticed that your neighbor is alone on his birthday.

includes : 720 words | fluff | strangers to friends??

extra : damn this is the shortest drabble i have written lol | supportive mother ;) | this is very rushed sunghoon drabble because i wanna post for his birthday lol (happy birthday bf<3) | i don’t expect much tbh ….lol enjoy :3

likes, comments, and reposts are very much appreciated <3

[below the cut]

your neighbor is alone for his birthday.

your head leaning onto your window frame, you stared at the boy on his desk doing homework.

it was night time, the air outside bought a cold feeling to your skin despite wearing a pajama set. even if clothes, you’re still shivering like a cat. but nothing defeats the feeling than being alone for your birthday. you felt utterly bad.

your parents started off your day by saying, “it’s sunghoon’s birthday today. sohee’s son.” your dad tossed you milk for your cereal. you muttered a thanks before familiarizing yourself who sunghoon is.

sunghoon moved into your neighborhood in the summer of this year. the first time your parents and yourself greeted him, you can’t deny that his looks definitely caught your eye. you agree that he’s hella attractive.

he looked nerdy with glasses on and was (still is) undoubtedly quiet. but as time passed on, you sometimes would have the opportunity to say hi and good mornings on the bus stop, on the way to school. sunghoon would reply back before moving his eyes to his phone. his social battery easily gets drained. you would later found out when your mother told you from the talks her and sohee would have.

both of you went to different schools so you wonder how’s he’s doing since he moved.

so technically you’re friends but you don’t think sunghoon knows that.

you stared at the disappointment in front of you. you pursed your lips together with your arms crossed as you wonder what kind of homework he’s working on. or better yet, thinking.

isn’t he supposed to be celebrating? what is this loser (respectively) doing homework for?

“staring at the boy?”

you jumped, almost screaming out loud at the sudden voice by your door. you swore that your heart tried to break free out of your rib cage.

you recognized that it was your mom’s but it felt like it was from a line out of a movie - where it’s the last moments of death.

you turned around with an annoyed expression. your mom grinned slyly with a fruit bowl in her hand. she settled the bowl in your desk as you happily skipped over, grabbing the fork that stabbed a strawberry and deliciously consume the sweetness and freshness.

“i wasn’t staring..” you muttered, finishing your strawberry. “i’m curious as to why he’s not celebrating when it’s his birthday.” you stabbed whatever you wanted to eat next: a grape.

“sunghoon?” your mom asked. you nodded, slipping a chair in to relax. “i believe his parents went out for a business trip.”

your eyes bulged out, even feeling more pity that his parents weren’t here for his birthday. “wait really?” you were genuinely surprised. “what about his friends? doesn’t he have any with that look of his?” your tone became bitter towards the end.

your mom shrugged, not knowing as well. “i think we still have cake from last night that hasn’t been eaten yet.” your mom gave you an idea.

“the paris baguette one?” your mom nodded. “share some with sunghoon.” your mother smiled before leaving your room.

you arrived at the doorstep of sunghoon’s home with an uneaten paris baguette cake that came with plates, knives and forks, candles and a match. you were kind of nervous because this might be the first time interacting with sunghoon.

your heart was beating out of nervousness that you might just drop the cake and hide in the bushes to see if sunghoon would take it without hesitation. but that’s just dumb-

your thoughts disappeared when the door opened and you saw sunghoon still in his school uniform. his eyes also widened, intrigued to see you with a cake in your hands. well, especially you.

“uh..” you looked down at sunghoon, admiring how he looked good in his uniform before looking up at him. he was blinking, waiting for a response.

sunghoon noticed your stare. he heard whisper to yourself, “you’re tall…” and he then realized how short you are when he looked down on you. “you’re short.” he bluntly replied.

“w-what?” your heart stammered when you heard him, looking at him dumbfounded. he tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow like a cocky person. acting like he didn’t say anything.

then you cleared your throat.

“wanna help me finish this cake?” you mentally palmed yourself at your own words that just randomly spilled out on its own.

sunghoon’s lips curled up, almost like a smile at your words. your heart felt lighter at his reaction. he looked at you, nodded. “yeah.” he invited you inside his home, making you excited to share the cake.

#enha imagines #enha scenarios #enha smau #enha x reader #enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen x female reader #enha sunghoon #sunghoon x y/n #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon oneshot #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x reader #enhypen oneshots #sunghoon drabbles

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respectthepetty · 7 days

Text

I'm here to report on the colors in episode four of Wandee Goodday, but first a few stray thoughts like I have another image to add to my collection of Yak looking at Dee crazy,

yet still going along with whatever Dee wants.

Also, Yak being bothered that Dee didn't immediately think of him as a friend was a good beat in establishing the "friend" portion of their benefits. They are friends who share their lives with each other and scheme together, and I'm glad the show is explicitly stating that.

Because the way the conversation began paralleled the way Yak wants to approach Taem about their relationship - What are we? "Are we datin'? Are we fuckin'? Are we best friends? Are we somethin' in between that?"

But also the nurse stating Yak must care a lot for his lover to get the vaccine and Yak looking immediately at Dee was perfection because 1) safe sex isn't just about you but about the people you are sleeping with,

2) you shouldn't be ashamed of caring about sexual health, so even if you hide behind queer pamphlets, drink water, get the shot, wear the condoms, and use the lube. Also, PrEP isn't just for men just like HPV vaccinations aren't just for women, and

3) it showed that Yak does care enough about DEE, his lover, to take their sexual health seriously -> Yak is on that Bed Friend's King level of sexy, and I'd go through the entire Kama Sutra with them both once all our test results came back clear.

Translations are always iffy but Ter mentioning that Dee wasn't thinking about his professional persona while Yak reminded Dee to not include his face in the pictures and Yei mentioned his brother being fine with Cher when they first started dating gives me hope that this show is going to lean more into the layers of being out because even though that "666" told me Ter was el diablo, he continues to make comments like that and Golf's other show, The Eclipse (which has been featured often in this show) was very much about (not) passing and levels of outness.

Yei and Yak's dad was a world champion boxer, yet he wasn't mentioned in this mom-focused episode and the mom is the one who opened the gym, so is the space that Cher and Yei are giving Yak to figure his feelings out something they weren't given by the father? Because Cher was worried about the pressure Yei was putting on Yak to move up a class.

And if the gym was the mom's, with all of its yellow, is Yak really like his mom as Dee assumed?

Because putting the opening scenes in black and white is an easy flashback technique, but in this particular story, where Yak and his mom are bright yellow, it was a painfully good choice to take the color and brightness out of the scene.

And it was an even better choice to parallel Dee comforting Yak in the same way Yak comforted him with a warmer (yellow) light than his normal purple one.

Because Dee is already in his feelings about Yak without realizing how deep he was, which is why he is wearing a soft yellow while Yak is wearing Dee's fake blue.

When they practiced what Yak would say to Taem, Dee thought about all their moments together, so he is falling quickly, while the signs are pointing out that Yak isn't there yet.

But I wouldn't be there either if I was still daydreaming about this beautiful goddess who always rescues Yak with her brilliance, sassy personality, singular focus, and yellow folders, but that sounds a lot like someone else.

A Purple Prince who is also brilliant and focused on winning but wild and sassy. Good to know Yak has a type. (Sidenote: the music choices swinging between romantic to tension-filled as the scene flipped between Taem and Dee was another great choice)

Because Taem is taken, even if not officially. She matches her guy. She had on a dark brown and black shirt, so he had on a dark brown cardigan with a black tie.

And she had on a brown-striped shirt with a black star, and he had on a brown jacket with black writing and a black tie.

Then again, Dee is no consolation prize. Not looking like that at least.

No wonder Yak is conflicted about what he feels when he looks at Dee because he most certainly is sexually attracted to him because *duh* who wouldn't be attracted to Dee (TER!), but as they sit in Yak's black and yellow room, it becomes more apparent that whatever he is feeling isn't just sexual desire.

And when Dee scratches his back just like his mom used to while tutoring him, it starts to become clearer that Dee, wearing his necklace, and in orange which is sooooo close to yellow fits easily into his life. (Sidenote: Together with Me taught me that in Thai, being itchy is slang for being horny, so good for this show and its layers)

Dee works so well in Yak's life that Yak is willing to get three shots to continue to have sex with him which can take anywhere from eight months to over a year to complete because each dose is spaced out by at least two-to-six months. Basically, Yak committed to a long-term plan . . . with Dee, who is chilling in his yellow-striped shirt.

So it's not surprising that Yak is wearing a deeper blue next week as he holds Dee on the couch since he is far more invested in this fake relationship than he originally intended.

I could write 5,000 more posts about them and this episode which I probably will.

But know that even though the blue Yak is wearing is getting deeper, I will not be satisfied until it turns into purple.

That's when I'll know they are both in love.

#wandee goodday #the colors mean things #color coded boys in love #purple is queer #and Wandee and Yak are gonna be queer af #I'M SO EXCITED!#so excited that I'm putting myself in danger #I gotta chill out #my expectations are so high #what if I don't get purple on Yak?#I'll cry a thousand tears y'all #I'll never recover #don't hurt me show #I have faith you will deliver!

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in-my-feels-probably · 7 months

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for your slytherin boys reacts, what about how they react when you dress up as them for halloween? :)

How the Slytherin Boys React to You Dressing Up as Them For Halloween

Request: for your slytherin boys reacts, what about how they react when you dress up as them for halloween? :)

Hi! Happy Halloween! I hope everyone is having a good day. I’m sorry to those of you who wanted more of the boys, but I only included Theo, Enzo, and Mattheo on this one. If you want to see some of the other boys in my future work, please let me know. These three are just who I’m focused on right now. Also, I wrote this with a fem reader in mind, I hope that’s ok. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this :)

(Warnings: nothing? idk, theo’s might be just a tiny bit suggestive. also vague descriptions of size differences. let me know if i missed anything)

—

Theodore Nott

Instead of wearing his clothes, you’d dress up in something inspired by him. But you’d still use a few things of his just so he’d get the point.

You wouldn’t even be able to walk in the door before he’d notice your costume and smirk.

He’d tease you about it, but he’d secretly think it was so attractive. You’re literally advertising that you're his girl with the costume and he isn’t about to complain about that.

He’d just have to compromise somehow.

You thought your costume was pretty subtle. A white button down shirt and a black skirt with sheer tights (or slacks, whatever you’re more comfortable with.) You had a green tie loosely hanging around your neck, a few of Theo’s rings on your fingers. You stole a cigarette from his coat pocket earlier that day, and you had it tucked behind your ear where it could be seen.

You considered nicking his lighter too, but you knew he would have come looking for it immediately, and you wanted your costume to be a surprise.

You went up to his dorm right before the party since you wanted to go together. You barely made it through the door before you heard a chuckle, making you pause in the doorway.

“What?”

“Nothing, pretty girl,” he smiled, waltzing over to you. “You didn’t tell me you were going to the party as me.”

Your shoulders fell as you looked up at him. “How did you know?”

Theo grinned down at you, reaching to pluck the cigarette from behind your ear. He placed it back into his pocket, pulling you into his chest as your face soured. He swayed you back and forth, chuckling.

“You look beautiful, darling. It’s a good costume. I wish you would have told me, though. How are people going to know I’m yours if I have nothing of yours to show for it?”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. You let go to reach for your bag, pulling out a tube of lipstick Pansy had let you borrow. You smeared it on, tossing it back in your bag before grinning up at Theo. You hooked your finger under his chin, pulling him down to your level before dramatically peppering kisses across his cheek and jaw. When you pulled away, he had perfectly shaped stains across his face.

“Better? Can we go down now?”

“In a minute,” Theo grinned, pulling you closer. “I think you missed a spot. Pucker up, love.”

Mattheo Riddle

Dressing up as him was pretty much an excuse to wear his clothes.

But you made sure to pay attention to the details, fake blood and all. He’d know immediately the second he looked at you.

Secretly was excited about couples costumes, but he thinks this is way more funny. You’d promise to do one with him next year.

Would absolutely match your energy and dress up as you for the party.

You had stolen a few of Mattheo’s rings a week or two prior to the party, feigning innocence when he’d ask if you had seen any of them. You wore one of his long sleeve button down shirts and a black tie, one of his jackets over your shoulders. You let Pansy do your makeup, and she gave you fake bruising and a cut over the bridge of your nose, completed with a swipe of fake blood.

You’d come up to his dorm to surprise him before the party, excitedly standing in front of his bed to show him your costume.

He’d smirk as he stood, coming to stand in front of you. “You’re going to the party as me?”

“Clearly,” you mused, grinning when he raised a brow at your teasing. “How do I look?”

He hooked a finger under your jaw, tilting your chin up. “You look beautiful, darling. But don’t you think we’re missing something?”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t think you’re going down there like that alone, do you?” He asked, smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “I want something of yours. It’s only fair, darling. Besides, I don’t have a costume.”

You chuckled, reaching for his hand. “Do I even have anything that would fit you? What, you want one of my dresses?”

“I’ve got the legs for it.”

You couldn’t help but grin, tugging him along in the direction of your dorm. “Yes, yes you do. Come on, let’s see if we can find you something.”

Mattheo ended up showing up to the party in some of your clothes looking even better than you did in them. Your friends had plenty to say, whistling and making eyes as he confidently strutted around. He probably would have even worn your heels if he could have fit into them. But he didn’t need them—you both could barely keep your eyes off of each other the whole night anyway, glued to each other's side. Heels would have just slowed you down.

Lorenzo Berkshire

He wouldn’t even recognize you were dressed up as him.

He’d just think you looked cute in his clothes and forget all about how you were supposed to be in a costume. You’d have to actually point it out for him to realize what you were doing.

He’d think it was really sweet, but he’d feel a little left out. He’d ask for something of yours so he could be dressed as you, and he’d wear it proudly.

You met Enzo in the Common Room, setting down your cup as you spotted him. You smiled at his costume. He was a vampire again—he wore the same costume every year because he liked wearing the velvet cape, and it was, in his own words, cooler than a superhero with a cape.

You walked over, spinning him around. “Hi, love. You look nice…as always.”

Enzo could barely let out a chuckle before he realized you were wearing his favorite shirt, the cuffs rolled up around your wrists because they were hanging too low. You had popped a few of his rings on your fingers, charming them to fit you for the night instead.

“Pretty girl,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around you. “You look so cute. But I thought you were wearing a costume tonight?”

You nodded into his chest. “I am…I’m you.”

Enzo pulled away and placed his hands on your shoulders, holding you at arms length. He looked you over once more, a giddy smile on his face. But his smile slowly fell, making you raise a brow.

“What is it?”

“Nothing…I kinda just wish you told me,” he shrugged, trying to brush it off.

You shook your head in confusion. “What? Why?”

“Well, I would’ve worn something of yours. Then we could’ve come as each other. I’ve always wanted to do a couples costume.”

You felt your heart warm at his words, taking his hand in yours.

“And retire the vampire costume? I couldn’t do that to you,” you mused, tugging him in the direction of your dorm. “Come on, let’s go find you something of mine. I’ll jazz mine up a little bit so you can keep the cape on—we’ll just be each other, but vampires. Does that sound good?”

Enzo smiled, nodding as you led the way.

—

A/N - Hi! Happy Halloween! I know it’s late, but I made it before midnight! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. I’ve got a few more requests to fill, and I’ll have those up soon. See you soon :)

#harry potter #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott imagine #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #lorenzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys react #slytherin boys

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