#You've Caught Me Between Wind and Water | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phoward89 · 1 month

Text

Masterlist

Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. That man is a walking blood red flag waving heavily in the wind! engagement (not reader), smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker!Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC. DarkCoriolanus, Jealous!Coriolanus

Chapter 2:

While Coriolanus is in his office, high up on the top floor of the Citadel, raging and having an internal meltdown about your relationship, you’re walking down a crowded downtown sidewalk, hand in hand with Odysseus. The two of you were heading to a cafe near the office for lunch.

“I'll cook you dinner tonight. How does that sound for a third date?” The bronze-haired man offered, his smile full of sunshine and dimples. Odysseus' smile was contagious: you couldn't help, but to smile widely back at him.

“Last time I had a man cook for me I was 18.” You honestly admitted as a fleeting memory of Coriolanus, all skin and bones, stirring a pot of cabbage popped into your mind.

“I know that it's rude to ask a woman her age, but I must know, how old are you?”

“I’m not offended, Odysseus.” You assured him before revealing your age. “I'm 24, by the way.”

Leaning in, as if he was going to tell you a big secret, he smiled- large and scandalously, and revealed, “I'm 28.” Bumping your shoulder lightly with his, Odysseus teasingly chuckled, “Guess it's time for me to bust out the wheelchair since I'm the Old Man of the Sea in this relationship and you're the youthful mermaid.”

You let out a laugh, a genuine laugh, at your boyfriend's words. You've only known him for a day, but so far he's proven to be nothing, but respectful and kind. He's unlike anyone you've ever met before.

Odysseus was very bubbly and it was refreshing. After being with someone so cold and calloused for so long, being with a warm soul was like a breath of fresh air.

“I don't know much about such things. Is it something common to District 4?”

Odysseus nodded, only to say. “The Old Man of the Sea is the water god, Triton.” instead of leaving it there, he decided to explain the legend of the sea god to you. “He's very wise and it's said that if you can manage to capture him and hold on as he changes into many forms that he can answer any questions that you have, about anything at all.”

“Had anyone ever caught him?” You curiously asked as the cafe came into view.

“Some claim to have caught him, no one really pays them any mind, now do they?” He chuckled.

Odysseus' smile brightly widened as he animatedly explained the lore of mermaids to you, “And a mermaid, according to folklore, is a mythological water spirit that's the most beautiful siren of a woman on the top half, while having a fish tail instead of legs for the bottom half.” Coming to a stop at the cafe, he held the door open for you while continuing his sea creature lecture with, “They can both wreak havoc by causing shipwrecks and can be benevolent by granting boons; some even forgo their own mermen and fall in love with human men.”

Guiding you to one of the bistro tables (since the cafe was on of those seat yourself and someone will be with you in a moment type places), he told you with a faraway look in his sea-green eyes. “My Pops says that my Ma was so beautiful that he's positive that she was a mermaid who struck a deal to gain human form.”

From the way his voice slightly quaked while mentioning his mother, you knew that she was most likely dead. How did you know? Because Coriolanus’ voice did the same thing if and when he ever mentioned his late mother (which was rare and far in-between).

“How old were you when she passed, if you don't mind me asking?” You tentatively asked, knowing that it might be a touchy subject, while taking your.seat at a windowside Odysseus brought you to.

“I don't mind you asking, honey.” The bronze haired man assured you, taking his seat across from you at the table. Grabbing the menus from the display rack on the edge table, near the window, and handing one over to you, he simply said, “I was about 9.” Opening his menu, he sadly explained, “There was a hurricane in 4 that completely flattened the beach side community her family's house was at. Even tho she was a strong swimmer, she drowned.” Staring a hole into his menu, he bitterly spat, “President Ravinstill refused to send help or aid, or to even evacuate that part of District 4 because Panem was in the early days of the war.”

“You and Poseidon were here, in the Capitol, while she was trapped in 4.” You concluded while scanning your own menu.

“Yes, that's how I ended up living a privileged life in Capitol City while my mother and her family’s beach house was swept off of its foundation; lost to the depths of Davy Jones' locker.”

“My father was an officer in 12 during the war. His commander helped him smuggle my mother, older brother, and me here, to the Capitol, during the Dark Days.”

“He was found swinging in the trees outside of 12 with General Snow, wasn't he?”

“Yea.” You nodded, only to change the subject by announcing what you thought looked appetizing on the menu.

Coriolanus was barely holding it together whenever he walked into his penthouse. As he went to hang up his coat and place his leather briefcase on the side table by the coat rack, he felt his Grandma'am’s eyes on him.

Her stare was scrutinizing, making him feel as if he was a little boy again- getting scolded. He hates that feeling. The feeling of not being perfect, of failing. He strives to be the best, at everything he does, so Grandma'am staring him down with thoughts of shame unnerved him.

Grandma'am didn't have to say it, he just knew that she was disappointed in him. But why? He's successful as the Head Gamemaker, he's going to announce his run for Senate, and he's engaged to be married to a young lady from a very prestigious banking family. He's well on his way to success.

On his way to becoming the President of Panem in a few years time. Something that Grandma'am has always wanted for Coriolanus. Shouldn't she be proud of him, not staring him down with shame?

“How have I disappointed you, Grandma’am?” Coriolanus asked the old woman, keeping his voice cold and even, as he shrugged out of his favorite maroon trench coat; hanging it up on the corner rack after placing his briefcase on the nearby sphere shaped side table. Made out of mahogany, of course. Only the best for the Snow family.

Which is why you feel like you're not a fixture in the penthouse anymore. You're not good enough to be a part of the Snow family; to be with Coriolanus. There's something better out there for him, but you've come to accept it and move on.

Coriolanus hasn't moved on, but he won't allow himself to admit that he's fucking up his life by listening to Strabo Plinth when it came to the affairs of his heart. Oh, yes, that's right, the platinum blonde man turned into a cold creature that destroyed his own heart; refuses to acknowledge love. All he knows now is hate, indifference, and lust.

Truthfully, he's in denial when it comes to you and his feelings. He just chalks it up to being possessive and lustful over you, but honestly it's love. A dark, twisted take on love since he's a broken man and doesn't know how to love, but it's love none the less that he feels for you.

“Your father would be ashamed of you, Coriolanus. I know that I am; so is your cousin, Tigris.” The white haired woman, dressed in all her fineries, told her grandson. “Most of all, your mother would be heartbroken knowing that her son turned his back on the love of his life.”

Grandma'am’s words cut Coriolanus deep as he walked over to the sitting area in the main room. Her words cut so deep, it felt like a long double edged sword piercing through the spot where his black, cold, dead heart is locked up in his chest.

His jaw clenched painfully as he stormed gracefully, thanks to his long legs, over to the open sitting chair across from his Grandma’am. He felt his soul bleeding in his chest as he sat down. The old Snow family matriarch’s words burned Coriolanus worse than if he bathed in gasoline and lit himself on fire with a match.

But Coriolanus Snow’s a very proud man; he won't admit that Grandma'am's words hurt him. That they rang true; made his conscious berate him. Made him feel a pang of self loathing and guilt.

No…

Coriolanus will act like he didn't do anything wrong, even tho he did.

“I didn't turn my back on the love of my life because I don't have one.” Coriolanus denied in a flat out lie.

Lie, lie, lie!

You're the love of his life and he knows it, but he's just too goddamn afraid to admit it. So fucking scared of being hurt, used, manipulated, and weakened by love. He’d rather deny his feelings for you then face them.

Coriolanus can face anything headon, except for his feelings. The man didn't do feelings. And that was such a shame, because he truly did love you.

Too bad he was too focused on his political ambitions; couldn't see how much you loved him and vice versa.

Grandma'am blanched at Coriolanus’ words. Those words hurt her deeply. She loves you, as if you were one of her own, and knew how large of a role you played in her grandson's life. And to hear Coriolanus write the love you too share so easily, as if it was nothing, made her wonder where she went wrong with him? Tigress turned out fine, so why was Coriolanus so…so cold and dead towards the girl that he's loved his entire life?

Watching Coriolanus as he reached forward to grab a piece of candy from the large 3-tier candy dish set in the middle of the glass coffee table, Grandma'am sadly wondered, “I didn't raise you to be like this, Coriolanus. How can you be so cold when it comes to Y/N, your sweetheart?”

“She was never my sweetheart, Grandma'am.” Coriolanus retorted coldly. The frostiness in his baritone even sent a chill down his own spine, but it was too late to take it back now. The glacial sharp sentence was now in the universe, floating around; sure to manifest and take hold.

The remark and the attitude that accompanied it would surely come back to bite Coriolanus in the ass; to haunt him. There's no way on earth, in heaven, or in hell those cruel and icy words won't find their way back to you. Because they will…

“I see.” Was Grandma’am’s clipped response. Those two words held so much sadness and disappointment in them. The old woman's wrinkled face turned sour as she informed her grandson, “I just hope that she didn't ruin her life sitting around; waiting for your love. She turned down quite a few wealthy suitors, even a General’s son, as I understand from Tigress- who felt that Y/N was wasting her time on you because you've changed- turned hateful and cold.”

What? You turned down opportunity after opportunity to get out of poverty; all because of your silly notion of being in love with him? Of wanting more than what he can offer you?

You willingly choose to work for scraps, having your ideas used by your boss- to be claimed by them as theirs instead- for advertisements and marketing plots, instead of being pampered on and made a socialite by a rich man. What’s wrong with you? Were you truly foolish enough to believe that love could pay the bills; could be more than enough for you? Were you foolish enough to want the insecurity of love over the security of wealth?

Coriolanus never took you for a foolish girl, but now…well he doesn't know what to think. Why would you hold out hope for him to love you, to pick you, to give you things he's incapable of if you weren't foolish. You knew as well as he did that he has to do certain things to climb to the top, to reach his political goals, and that entering a union of love with you isn't one of those things.

“Waiting around for me to love her; to propose a marriage that would only hinder my political aspirations, makes her one of the biggest fools in Panem, Grandma'am.” Heartlessly shot out of Coriolanus’ mouth before he could think twice. He didn't even recognize his voice, but it truly was his.

“I don't know what happened to you, grandson, to make you so hateful. That girl's loved you ever since the Dark Days and you seemed to love her back, but I now see that you were just using her. Using her like that little songbird of 12 used you up years ago during the 10th Hunger Games.” Grandma’am spat at Coriolanus, causing the hardened young man to just flash her a deadly look. A look that would make most people cower in fear. But, Grandma'am Snow wasn't like most people. She did raise General Crassus Snow after all and he had some of the most hateful pale blue eyes in the Capitol.

Coriolanus' face was cold as stone, his eyes flashing with fury, as he seethed, “Don't you bring up that dead district whore to me, you old bitch. I'll take any of your other ramblings, but not talk about that songbird.”

The disrespect and loathing in her grandson’s tone worried Grandma'am. She's never seen Coriolanus in such a light, but she didn't like it.

Her grandson was nothing like his father. No, Coriolanus was worse than Crassus. Despite being a strict man that believed in totalitarian rulership, Crassus Snow was capable of love. He loved his wife dearly and unconditionally. But his son, well, it seems like Coriolanus has closed himself off to love.

And that scares Grandma'am.

“I think, since you're newly engaged, that it's time for you to find your own penthouse to live in.” The Snow matriarch told her iciscle of a grandson while watching him lean forward to grab another piece of candy from the extravagant candy dish.

Popping the piece of candy into his mouth, Coriolanus simply said, “If that's what you want, then I'll move out.” Standing up, he said, “I'll go call the Plinths' realtor, see if there's any penthouses available in one of the new Luxe buildings downtown.”

No, Coriolanus wasn't going to see if there was a penthouse available in any of the new Luxe buildings, but in your specific building. Because, by living in your building, he'll be able to give you gifts without being stopped by that troublesome doorman with high morals. He'll also be able to fix things with you, get you to see his logic and agree to come back to him. Coriolanus will be able to break you and Odysseus Odair, the Capitol’s biggest manwhore, up before you become too enthralled by him. Before he loses you to him.

Despite denying his feelings for you and calling you a foolish girl for loving him, the thought of you possibly falling in love with somebody else terrifies him. It eats away at his soul, knowing that right know you're probably thinking about the date Odysseus took you on last night.

Coriolanus is jealous that you're moving on (after a damn month!) with somebody that he views unworthy of you. And he's going to put an end to things, make you return to his side.

And the perfect way to do that is living in your building. So, hopefully, Coriolanus can purchase the penthouse in your Luxe complex.

After a long day at work, you went home and got changed into something comfortable before going across the hall to Odysseus’. You felt a bit nervous knocking on his door. Yes, he did invite you over and said he'd cook dinner for a third date, but it's been a while since you've been invited to a man's apartment. In fact, the last time you went to a man's apartment was the night that you ended things with your ex.

When the door opened, revealing Odysseus in the doorway dressed in a simple tank and shorts, you felt your mouth go dry. His tan skin was glowing, bronze hair effortlessly framing his shoulders in waves. But it was the face splitting smile, brighter than the sun, that took your breath away.

How is it that he can always flash you that smile every time he's around you? Can he truly be that happy to see you? You last saw him a few hours ago for lunch, he couldn't have missed you that much- could he?

“Come on in.” Odysseus urged you, pulling you into the apartment with an excited look on dimples face. “I got shrimp and asparagus risotto on the stove.” He told you, gently closing the door as you walked into his place; taking in the decor.

The decor was nothing like how you expected a modern, upscale apartment to look like. The walls, instead of being the standard white, cream, or light grey that's standard in the building, were different shades of blue and green. Also, you noticed how a pair of hammock-like chairs made up entirely of rope and nets hung from the ceiling. Instead of a sofa, like most people had in their apartments, Odysseus had floor cushions that were shaped to resemble a couch. The coffee table was a chunk of driftwood with glass on it, while the TV was set on a table painted various shades of blue to resemble waves. And the wall decorations of various shells really set off the beachy vibe of the apartment.

“Is this how houses are decorated in District 4?” You asked, standing in the middle of the mainroom- taking everything in.

“Yea.” Odysseus nodded. “Wait until you see the kitchen, you'll love it.” He told you, only to grab your hand and drag you into the kitchen.

The kitchen, that was decorated with mounted fish all over the walls. The beautiful white cabinets had all of their doors taken off. The back walls of the cabinets were painted teal, creating a contrast with the white shelves and frame. And the once white marble countertops were painted (Yes, he painted over marble!) seafoam green. The kitchen island stools looked to be made out of a mix of driftwood and rope, which made you wonder how sturdy they were.

“Sit down, honey. The risotto’s almost done.” Your new boyfriend beamed, guiding you to sit down on one of the stools (that you were iffy about). “You're going to love this risotto; recipe’s a simple one from 4, but it's delicious.” Odysseus told yoy, going over to the stove and stirring the contents in the pan so it wouldn't burn.

“Do you eat anything other than seafood?” You asked, hoping that he did. Honestly, you didn't eat seafood religiously, so if Odysseus did then…well…guess you'll have to deal with it.

“Fish’s healthy for you, Y/N.” The heir to the largest luxury cruiseline out of District 4 told you while taking the risotto pan off of the stove and placing it onto the countertop.

Which was bad, because without a trivet to rest on the heat from the pan can ruin the counter. Does he not give a shit about ruining his counter? Hell, Coriolanus would be having a stroke if you pulled that shit- placing a hot pan on his marble counter without using a trivet.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait a minute, wait a goddamn minute! Why the fuck are you thinking about Coriolanus, your ex, when you're about to have a nice home cooked meal with Odysseus, your current boyfriend? What the hell's wrong with you?

What? Are you going to be that girl that compares apples to oranges in bed too?

Odysseus’ warm hands skirt across your body as his mouth leaves feather soft kisses all over your skin, but it feels foreign to you. Honestly, you're not used to soft caresses and lightly peppered kisses. Of lips pressing against yours firmly, but faintly. You weren't used to a man swiping the tip of his tongue along your lower lip in a way that was both sensual and questioning all at the same time.

No.

You're used to hungry, sloppy butterfly kisses which turn into bruising bites all over your skin. You're used to cold, rough hands squeezing and grabbing at you. You're used to lips harshly clashing against yours in hungry desperate kisses. Kisses that seemed to be from a man starved and he shoved his tongue down your throat without warning. Desperate kisses that turned into opened mouth ones, complete with spit swallowing, tongue sucking, and bottom lip biting.

You're not used to softness. Instead, you're used to roughness. But perhaps you could get used to softness.

Or at least you tell yourself you'll get used to softness as you lay naked underneath Odysseus, splayed out on the floor cushions, as he languidly rolls his hips against yours. His movements are reminiscent of ocean waves crashing against the shore. His thrusts were slow, but powerful.

You felt like you're going to explode as Odysseus’ mellow movements slowly worked passion into you. Your pussy begged to be pounded, craved for his cock to bruise against the spongy spot inside of it. But instead of brute force, your cunt got gently caressed by Odysseus’ large cock (well, he had the length, but not the girth you're used too. Oh god, are you really comparing your boyfriend's cock to your ex’s cock? Yes, yes you are and you'll probably go to hell for it.) evertime he dragged it against your tight walls, only to push back into you again.

You bucked your hips, whining out, “Faster, Odysseus. Harder, please.”

Odysseus just smiled lazily, making his dimples protrude deeply in his cheeks. Bringing one of his hands up to stroke your cheek, he said, “I see you're not used to making love, honey. But, you'll get used to being worshiped like the goddess you are.”

His words were sweet and sent your heart fluttering a mile a minute. And the smoldering look he gave you as he snapped his hips just a little bit deeper, a little bit harder, for you and your head spinning.

And soon, before you knew it, your cunt’s clamping down around his cock and your nails (no longer crimson, but now a simple French manicure) are digging into his shoulder while you whimper, “Odysseus.” over and over as you cum.

Odysseus after feeling you cum around his cock, coating it in your stick juices, quickly pulled out of you. The feeling of emptiness crashed into you harder than any storm wave hitting a pier ever could as Odysseus knelt between your legs, quickly pumping his cock until he cum with your name on his lips. The feeling of his warm cum spurting out onto your belly made you twitch in surprise.

You weren't used to having hot cum shoot onto your body, you were used to being filled up with it. Was there a reason why your boyfriend didn't want to cum inside of you?

But before you could ask him, he was pushing himself to stand while announcing, “I'll get you a towel so you can clean up.”

“Okay.” You simply nodded, laying on the floor cushions while spent with white pearl like seed slowly sliding down your stomach.

After a few minutes, Odysseus came back with a towel. He gave it to you, before collecting his shorts and pulling them on. As you cleaned his cum off of your stomach, he gathered your clothes- which you thought was odd.

Coriolanus never gathered your clothes for you after fucking you. No, he used to pull you into his arms; pressing you to lay into his side, while carding his fingers thru your hair. Some times, after a particularly rough and hard fucking, he'd draw a bath for the two of you or he'd hold you in bed while telling you that you did so well; that he was proud of you for not using the safeword- only to remind you that next time if you need to use the safe word (red) that you can and he won't think any less of you.

But you're not with the platinum blonde man (who doesn't give a shit about you, who's engaged to the heir of Panem's biggest bank now) anymore, you're now with a bronze haired man who’s habits you'll just have to learn. Have to get used to.

Flopping down on the seat cushions, Odysseus handed you over your clothes. “I thought you might want to get dressed so you won't be could while we watch tv.”

“You want to watch tv?” You asked, finding it strange that he brought up tv instead of cuddling.

“Yea, there's supposed to be a fishing documentary on soon and I don't wanna miss it.”

A fishing documentary…Of course, he wants to watch something about District 4. Well, you can't fault him for that. He has a tie in a way to the district and just wants to learn all he can about it, since he resides in the Capitol.

Plus, you suppose that you can cuddle with him while watching the documentary together.

Coriolanus walked behind the realtor (a middle-aged man that Strabo Plinth had on speed dial) as he opened the door to the penthouse suite of the Luxe apartment building that you reside in. “You're in luck, Mr. Snow, that nobody's applied for this unit; that I was able to fit you in for an after hours showing as well.”

“Yes, Mr. Grand, it seems that I'm very lucky that I'm the only one inquiring about this penthouse.” Coriolanus told the realtor, a calculating line of a smile on his face, as he took in the vast space of the main room.

It was twice as big as the Corso penthouse; surely you'd be impressed by it. This was your building, even if you did live on a lower floor (where the working-poor of the Capitol were), so Coriolanus knew that you’d like his new penthouse once he convinced you to see it. And, despite just starting the tour with the realtor, it was his place.

The platinum blonde master manipulator was going to move in as soon as possible, because it was the only way to get you back. He had to get you away from that peacock Odair before you did something stupid, like let him seduce you and get knocked up. You're not allowed to get knocked up by anyone, other than Coriolanus that is.

Yes, Coriolanus feels that he's the only one that can give you children. Nobody else better put a baby in you, unless they have a death wish.

But unknown to Coriolanus, Odysseus isn't ready for children yet (He may or may not have a few baby mamas and paternity test disputes floating around that his rich daddy Poseidon’s taking care of) which is why he practiced the pull out method with you while ‘making love’ on his floor cushions.

If only Coriolanus knew…well…he'd be having a coronary.

Not about the pullout method (no, that's something he'd be thankful for cause he's the only one allowed to cum inside of you), but about you making love to Odysseus on the floor. That fact right there would make Coriolanus made enough to kill. He's already jealous that you went to dinner with Odair, but if he ever found out that you fucked him…oh boy…it'd be like a throat punch to his ego.

It'd also be a dagger through his cold, dead, black, too small heart that secretly holds love for you.

But what Coriolanus doesn’t know won't hurt him. Besides, he's engaged to Livia Cardew and should be worried about her, not you. But, no matter what, he'll always worry about you because you're the one he wants in his life- despite driving you away by entering an arranged match for money, power, and glory.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @twinkletwinklenotastar @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @shellybellysstuff @zombicupcake3

252 notes · View notes

magicalqueennightmare · 4 months

Text

Why?

(Eventual) Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

When you're hurt and it's not a product of a hunt you intend to hide away and lick your wounds in private but a certain Mikaelson begins to worry and comes to your rescue.

The first knock at your door you disregarded. Surely it was your neighbor or maybe someone with a wrong address. You rented a small place just outside of the french quarter after all so people having a few too many and reading addresses wrong was a usual occurrence.

You were sore over every inch of your body. You were fairly sure nothing was broken but that knowledge didn't stop the pain that every slight movement caused. More than the pain was the embarrassment that this injury had come at the hands of humans. How could you have slipped up that bad?

You'd nearly fallen back asleep when your phone started to ring. You groaned from the effort of pushing yourself up to a sitting position and reached for it. The moment you saw the caller id you cursed. It was Elijah. You'd avoided him for the better part of the last week but one of his siblings must have caught wind that you'd made it back in town. You didn't want him to see you hurt. You'd tried to always have your feet under you around the ancient vampire.

He knocked you off balance so you covered it expertly with vague threats and sass. You weren't up to the usual repertoire between the two of you.

You took a deep breath and hoped it wouldn't show in your voice how exhausted you truly were “Elijah Mikaelson, to what do I owe the privilege?” “My darling little hunter. I heard from my sister that you've been in town for nearly a week. Are you avoiding me by chance?” You shifted in the bed and a groan escaped your lips. You closed your eyes praying he hadn't heard. “Not avoiding you. Just been busy”

He was silent for a moment and the thought hit you that maybe he'd hung up until he spoke “Care to answer the door then?” shit, he was the person at your door. “I'll come by later. Just make sure Klaus knows so it's not an announced thing” “Come to the door” you could feel the pull in his voice and tsk-tsked “Now now Elijah. You promised a long time ago to not try to compel me. Besides I've got enough wards tattooed on me it's next to impossible even for a vampire of your age”

“Please come to the door” he tried again and you could tell how much it took for him to add the please. “Ok” you hung up the phone and glanced around the room. Your oversized hoodie looked like the best option so you tugged it on over the sports bra and shorts you were currently wearing. It hit mid thigh and with the hood up covered most of your bruises along with the black eye and how swollen the left side of your face was.

You slowly walked across the small space to your front door and unlocked all three locks before swinging the door open to reveal the vampire standing at your door. Elijah was always impeccably dressed, today he was wearing a black tailored suit which fit him in a way that would've practically made your mouth water any other day. He had some stubble gracing his chiseled jaw which just added to how handsome he truly was.

A slight smirk started to slip across his face when he looked in your door but it quickly fell when his eyes met yours. “Invite me in” Elijah had come to your place a few times but you'd never extended an invite. It caused too much of a risk. You were welcome in the home he shared with his siblings despite you being a hunter and them originals.

You shook your head slowly but that made the room tilt and you were forced to grab the door frame for support. “Invite me in” he repeated. You managed a weak laugh “You gonna finish me off Mikaelson?” His eyes narrowed so you decided screw it if he threw the niceties to the side and did snap your neck at least you wouldn't be hurting anymore “Come into my home Elijah”

The moment he crossed the threshold he pushed your hood down and you saw the monster that always lurked just below the surface darken his eyes “Did this occur on a hunt?” You dropped your eyes “Yeah” you felt him move before his fingers ever so gently graced your chin, pulling your face up where you had no choice but to look him in the eye “I'm going to ask once more and make my question more direct. Who or what did this to you?”

You swallowed hard under his gaze. You didn't want to tell him. It was a couple dozen dirty cops. They wanted to use hunters as guns for hire. Technically most hunters had faked their deaths already so who better to pull off kills then the dead? “A few people who wanted me to work for them and I refused”

“Humans did this? My dear I've seen you fight” you nodded slightly, a grimace gracing your face due to the movement causing another wave of dizziness “They caught me by surprise and a taser is very much a field evener for us mere humans”

It occurred to you that he was still holding your face so you tried to move away from him but you swayed slightly and before you could protect he was picking you up bridal style. “You need to see a doctor” “No insurance” you mumbled, trying to fight the urge to lay your head against his chest as he carried you over to your bed, pulling the blanket back to lay you down.

He sat down gently on the side of the bed and motioned to the hoodie “May I?” You nodded and felt him pull the soft material up your body. His touch made goosebumps rise across your flesh and you hoped he'd mistake the way your heart started to beat faster for pain. “I'll bring one to you. Need to ensure you don't have any internal damage then you're going to tell me who exactly was involved”

“Why do you care, Elijah?” You asked and he simply smiled before pulling the hoodie back down “Perhaps I've allowed myself to become fond of the fact that you're not afraid of me. Quite the opposite you don't mind reminding me just how many of my kind you've killed. You're a hunter, I've made peace with that but this? This isn't your job, this was an attack that deserves an answer and I will gladly deliver one”

You nodded slowly then asked “Are you gonna pay a doctor or compel one?” He shrugged “Whichever works better” you motioned to where your jacket laid “Keys are in the right hand pocket. Lock the door when you leave then let yourself back in” “I'll be back soon” He promised and you knew he would. He would come back with a doctor and if you asked he'd slaughter anyone who'd ever hurt you, the question was why?

Closer

#elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson fanfiction #tvd fanfiction #the originals fanfiction #cw the originals #elijah mikaelson fic

153 notes · View notes

mika-no-sekai-blog · 2 months

Text

Word count: 1400+

Warnings: none

Part XII | Part XIV

Next morning you again stood in front of Rhysand's office, playing with your fingers nervously. Last night you were so sure about this, but just as expected your courage winded out until morning.

Closing eyes you took a few deep breaths and before you could think it over you knocked. The answer came immediately.

The doors opened and you walked in. Rhysand welcomed you with a tight smile. He seemed to be nervous just as much as you. Behind him on the chair you were seated on last night, sat Azriel, his wings tucked to his back, shoulders ridiculously tense. He nodded in greeting, flashing a small genuine smile. Rhysand closed the doors and locked.

"This way nobody will disturb us," he explained noting your widened eyes. "Where would you like to sit? We can move to sofa if it helps you feel more comfortable."

You considered it, your gaze nervously ticking between the two options. "I-.. I'm not sure what to expect," your voice was so small, it was a miracle they heard you.

"Well, it shouldn't be painful, maybe just little uncomfortable," Rhysand shrugged.

"I think sofa would be better," Azriel voiced his opinion and you nodded.

All three of you moved to the set of sofas. You and Rhysand sat down on one, Azriel took a seat at another one as close to you as possible.

"Okay, so let me explain first," Rhys straightened his back. He cleared his throat. "I don't know how it looks inside of your mind and what's blocking your memories. So first I have to find out the reason of your memory loss. When I figure it out, I will try to release one memory at a time, so you have time to adjust or stop me when you've had enough."

He took your hand and gently squeezed it. "You can stop this anytime," he assured you, his voice soft. "Just a single word and I will stop."

You nodded, too nervous to find your voice. You let out a shuddering breath.

"Do you need a moment or something to drink?" Ariel offered from your other side.

You shook your head, even your voice shivered. "Let's get started." Before I change my mind. You added for yourself.

"Okay, make yourself comfortable," Rhys smiled kindly and pressing small kiss on the back of your hand he squeezed it between his big, warm palms. You leaned back, resting you head on the soft backrest. Azriel moved closer, now sitting on the edge of his sofa, and squeezed your other hand. You tried to smile at him even though you trembled too much.

"I'm going in," Rhysand said. At that very same moment you felt something like a gentle caress before a presence slipped into your mind. It was a very strange feeling. It's me. Don't be scared.

I know. You answered and shut your eyes.

Rhysand looked around. Your mind reminded him of a forest. Each memory was represented by a shimmery chains of light and shadows growing from the ground like a tall tree with strong roots and changing into a rich crown high above his head.

Every mind was different, original in its own way. He had never seen anything like this. It was fascinating and so unfamiliar at the same time.

He knew you changed, but just now he realised how much. Before it looked like a city of Velaris in your mind. Your memories used to be hidden behind colourful doors and windows, just open them. Wide alleys for your favourite memories, mysterious narrow streets for the secret ones.

Wandering around he felt lost. He didn't know which direction could lead him back in time.

Rhys reached out in attempt to touch one of those strange trees. The light poured between his fingers like water. He saw himself smiling and talking about the one time you two stole cookies your mother baked from the kitchen and ate them all. Later your stomachs hurt so much you couldn't hide it and your mum got angry with you both.

That happened last week. He took few steps and looked around. A dark tree made of mostly shadows caught his eye, so he touched it. Rhysand again saw himself, rage seeping from him. It was the day of Solstice when he snatched you from Tamlin's grip so harshly he broke Tamlin's arm. He withdrew his hand in disgust. He didn't want to see it.

Walking in the same direction he continued deeper into the forest, occasionally touching some of the trees. He saw glimpses of your life with Tamlin which caused his guts to twist. He even saw the day you saved him and wondered who could be so strong to hurt High Lord of Spring Court. He was too curious to stop himself from touching the trees around just so he could see how you lived, what you did while he mourned you.

However simple and uneventful your previous life seemed to be, only thing he could feel was emptiness. In your heart you had to know something was amiss, that something was missing. He took a note to ask you more about it later.

He wandered for what felt like hours. Light was dim in this part of forest, darkness waiting ahead, around him only what could be described as dead trees. Before the darkness could swallow him, Rhysand smashed into a solid surface. Staggering backwards he hissed, rubbing the sore spot. Carefully he touched the wall first only with tips of his fingers, then with the whole palm.

The impenetrable wall was smooth and cold. He sent small tendrils of power on each side just to find out it had no beginning and no end. This was it.

I found it. Now it might get a bit uncomfortable, he said into silence.

Go ahead.

Rhysand placed both palms on the surface and closed his eyes. With exhale his powers stretched, covering the wall, looking for weak spots he could use to get in. Seemingly there were none. He refused to give up so easily and so he pushed harder until he found one.

He knew that if he stepped inside, he could stay trapped without chance to escape. Carefully he pushed one claw in. What he found there reminded a ball of tangled threads. He sighed. Why he expected it would be easy.

Rhys pushed another claw in and began to untangling the mess. One of the threads had loosened. Before taking it out he briefly looked what kind of memory it contained. It was something from your childhood, faces of both of your parents clearly visible and smiling. It was a happy family moment. This one is good, he thought and pulled it out.

The thread flew on imaginary wind and settled on one of the dead trees, melting into it. For a while nothing happened, the tree was just as dead as before. Rhysand tilted his head to the side, frowning. What the hell was that supposed to mean. Did the memory return back behind the wall? He was about to step closer to examine it when the ground around the tree shone with dim light. The light travelled to the roots, gathering around and.. Went out.

Are you kidding me? Rhysand murmured, disappointed.

Suddenly the light exploded from the roots, climbing up the trunk, reviving loosened dead chains, straining them. Rhysand had to shut his eyes and even shield them with his forearm. One of the swirling chains hit into his ribs, followed by a snapping sound. He cursed. When he dared to crack his eyes open again, new sparkling tree with wide crown grew in front of him. He checked his side, but there was only a small bruise.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. It was just.. unexpected. I've never experienced anything like this. Do you want to continue?"

Low hum of agreement came in answer. Rhysand again stretched his powers along the wall. This time it was easier to find the crack. Choosing one of the light, happy colours he untangled another thread, briefly checked it and pulled it out. His action was followed by explosion of light. He repeated this until you stopped him, checking on you after each memory he returned to you.

When he finished the dead forest wasn't so dead anymore. Instead it was laced with flickering lights.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss

#tamlin fanfiction #tamlin x reader #tamlin acotar #pro tamlin #tamlin #tamlin week #rhysand fanart #Rhysand #Azriel #acotar fanart #acotar fanfiction #acotar #sarah j maas #english isnt my first language

83 notes · View notes

ohmenai · 2 months

Text

Waterfall of Lust

That afternoon in the jungle was hot and steamy, almost like you could grab the heat, making me feel like I was in the middle of some feverish wet dream. Off in the distance, the sound of waterfalls smacking against the rocks was already mingling with the jungle's thick scents, the cool freshness of the water with the heavy aroma of wild nature.

In this tropical paradise, I stumbled upon Kwame, a hunk with indecipherable roots, sporting an afro jungle itself in his head, while his beard gently brushed against the firm canvas of a chest, sculpted patiently by gods of some lost paradise. His lips, two luscious cushions, beckoned me for a kiss I knew would be as wild as the nature enveloping us. But what really caught me, were those crafted, hardened nips, begging for the touch that would set them off.

His dick was like a sacred statue, purple and thick as if it was packing the power of the whole universe. It hung heavy between his thighs, standing out against the dense, moonless night-black pubes as lush and unusual, telling me that his masculinity was as wild as the scenery.

He asked for a photoshoot with no trade but the promise of capturing his vigor in pictures. I agreed, my 'OhMenFlex' camera was dying to snap that mix of raw masculinity and wild splendor. Kwame made it clear; he wanted his nipples worshipped the right way. In a ritual that felt ancient, with the birds as our audience, I played with them just how he liked, teasing them till his pleasure cascaded over like the waterfall itself. As his cum dripped, the OhMenFlex caught his load, with the last drops beading in the wind and his cock still buzzing. Some splashed onto his beard, his body and my face. With every throb, the veins on his schlong stood out in a stunning relief, sketching a roadmap to bliss on his still-smoking skin, panting hard, giving me those eyes that didn't need words. The camera might have stopped rolling, but the promise hung in the air. The scene was still alive, and something inside me knew the show was just getting started.

Now at Patreon and Fanvue

#aimen #aigayart #aibara #aigay #gay #gay black #gayhot #gay male #gay muscular #gay men #gay hot #ai guys #gayboy #gay art #aibbc #ai men

71 notes · View notes

my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction · 2 months

Text

The Taming of Man: chapter two - Dragon Shifting!Katsuki Bakugou x F!reader

Yet another chapter of this getting cranked out, slowly waiting for burnout to catch up to me :/ Hope you Enjoy!

ONCE AGAIN, This is incredibly based on the song The Willow Maid by Erutan, I highly recommend giving it a listen for the best experience.

Warnings: Cursing, reader is She/Her and will be AFAB in later chapters, Shirtless Katsuki, and copious amounts of grass-touching

words: 2,684

"Do you vow allegiance to your land?"

"I do."

"Do you vow allegiance to your people?"

"I do."

"Do you vow to never leave, and to spend every day hereafter in your country?"

"..."

"ugh," your handmaid Ururaka sighed, shaking her head and shutting the aged book in her lap. "You can't hesitate! How do you expect to be crowned if you hesitate," she scolded, her brow furrowing.

"I know, I know," you groaned, hanging your head in your hands. It was going to be your 20th birthday in a month, and as princess of the fae you would have to go through your coronation to become queen of the fae. you have to make an oath, the same oath you were just practicing, in order to be placed on the throne. The people took this very seriously, and if they sensed you were being disingenuous they wouldn't allow your crowning.

"I just...what if there's good out there? what if things have changed?" You peered at your trusted servant seated across from you from between your fingers, watching as she looked displeased and sighed again. "And what if there's not? You know what happened, you've heard the stories," she explained, gentle yet firm.

You sat back up, looking out through the baby-blue stained window right next to you. You watched as children played in the courtyard, golden glitter shooting from their fingers as they "shot" at each other. Pegasus' pulled wagons of fruit and grain in, men and women unloading them and carrying the bags into the door that led to the royal kitchen. Life was so quaint, so perfect, so comfortable, and yet so...boring.

"I don't see the issue if I already go out there," you grumbled, crossing your arms with eyes locked on the scene before you. Ochako rubbed her tired eyes, quite frankly sick of your bullshit, and just stood from her chair. "You know the issue, a Queen doesn't leave her people," she said pointedly, coming around behind you and beginning to braid your hair into a bun. The tension was going to give you a headache, you just knew it.

your lips pressed together at her words, and sighing in defeat you said, "fine...but I'm not a queen yet." Ochako let out a sniff of amusement, smiling a little to herself. "you know how your mother would feel if I let you go," she reasoned, scooping a little gel from a container on the vanity behind her and slicking back your baby hairs.

"well yeah, that's what secrets are for," you laughed, wincing a little as you felt your hair twist in her skilled hands. Ochako was silent for a moment, seemingly weighing her options. "...don't expect me to lie if you get caught."

You nodded eagerly, and she gave an affirming nod back as she finished your hair. "There," she said in an accomplished tone, happy with the bun, and you stood to hug her. "Thank you," you exclaimed, grabbing your basket and rushing out. You'd want to wash your clothes, you loved how the water made them feel. "It's not like I'm allowed to say no anyways," she called after you, raising and dropping her arms dejectedly.

You zoomed past servants and scholars, your bare feet pounding against the opal halls of the palace you called home. Room after room you passed, the library, the billiards room, the study, all to get to the window just before the stairs. After all, why go down 5 flights of stairs when you could hop out a window? You popped it open, looking down to check if that abandoned wagon was still there, and blithely hopped out. Your sage green skirt and white underskirts caught a little wind, blinding you for a second, before you landed on the wagon full of hippogriff down.

You didn't feel a thing, although the pile was difficult to climb out of. You plunged your hand into the dense fluff, grabbing a rope before clambering out of the feathers. Your feet sunk into mud as you walked towards the giant wall that protected the castle, the white material gleaming in the sun. You threw the rope over the side, listening for the sound of metal hitting metal as the weighted end clanged against an anchor. Perfect.

Tugging it first to be sure it was secure, you began to climb up the side of the wall, your corset making it increasingly uncomfortable. Your feet stuck a little to the wall, thankfully not slipping, and it took you a full minute to climb all the way to the top. Once you reached it, you stood for a second surveying the area, taking a breath of fresh air and watching for anyone who might see you.

Seeing nobody, you grinned and jumped down, knees bending as you hit the ground. You began to run, giggling happily and undoing the bun Ochako worked so hard on. You were practically flying, running far from the palace that kept you feeling imprisoned. You could feel the eyes of the birds and chipmunks, you could hear them giggling with you.

You started to slow down, your legs beginning to hurt, and you stopped to sit on a rock. Catching your breath, you looked around, examining the forest you called your second home. The sun dappled through the trees, the grass releasing a gold shimmer with each disturbance, and the scent of the spindling vines covered in white flowers citric and sweet.

You smiled, stretching a little and standing back up. From now on, you walked leisurely, sure no one would catch up to you, even if they realized you were gone. While walking, you began to hum, singing the song of your country. It was ingrained in your history, a legend many took incredibly seriously. You yourself believed it, but you didn't think it was so relevant now.

It took you a while, but you finally reached the babbling brook you were so fond of. It shimmered different colors from different angles, sometimes purple, sometimes red, sometimes every color in between. You kept walking down the side of it, singing your song the whole way, until you reached the perfect spot. In the very center of this part of the stream was a ring of water club mushrooms, each cluster a different color.

Carefully, you balanced on rocks peaking out the top of the brook, not wanting to fall and get swept away. Once you reached the circle, you took a deep breath, holding it and hopping into the center.

Suddenly, you were underwater, slowly treading up to the surface. You reached the top, swallowing up air and climbing out. The second you left the water, you and your clothes were dry, as was your basket. You looked around, taking in the smell of the multicolored flowers. You set down your basket on the giant tree stump, its number of rings somewhere in the thousands, and skipped through the flowers and to the trees as you sang your song. "See me now, oh ray of light in the moondance," you sang, hitting each note perfectly. It always satisfied you when you could do that.

You grabbed at the pink Tea Fruit hanging low on the branches, taking a bite. It was something like the mix between a pear and a plum, rich flavor with a crispy crunch. The juice dribbled down your chin, staining your shirt, and you smiled as you took a couple more to snack on while you sat.

Making your way to the giant stump and singing your tune the whole way, you plopped down and ate your fruit, listening to the sound of the forest. Birds joined you in song, fluttering down and sitting with you. You gave them the core of your fruit, allowing them to peck at it. A deer pranced in, a deer you knew well. You pressed your forehead to hers, staring into her big, clear eyes. You held a fruit to her mouth, smiling as she gladly took it and settled at your feet.

The next couple hours went like this, enjoying the sun, fresh air, and water. Animals came and went as they pleased. The scent of wild flowers filled your nostrils. All the while you sang your song, and all the while you thought about the outside. You had never gone farther than the little ring of trees, and any time you tried to look much farther, all you could see was mist.

As much as you wanted to explore, it unsettled you. Something primal told you no, told you to stay in your safe little field...and yet something else a little louder told you something was out there for you. Something big. You sighed, looking up towards the sky and shaking your head. You restarted your song for what felt like the billionth time, not even questioning why you wouldn't stop. You just...did. You felt like you were preforming for a waiting crowd.

Treading the water with your feet, you watched that same glittering effect change and shift. Suddenly, the once twittering birds around you fluttered, flying off in groups. You watched in confusion, looking towards the opposite direction of the flock, wondering if you should be scared too. You could hear footsteps, and smell the scent of blood.

Your singing stopped, and you looked even closer. You could just barely see the outline of a man, and despite your better judgment you got up and walked closer. Now you could see him completely, he was a man who was incredibly attractive. He looked like the sun.

His hair was light blonde, glowing even, and his eyes, fuck, those eyes. Sharp and intense ruby red, like he held the manifestation of pure passion in them. His build was strong, each and every muscle chiseled and defined, especially noticeable as he was lacking a shirt. You could see scales trailing up his forearms, an orange-red and nearly translucent. Lastly, a chain of animal tooth, amber, and cat's eye hung on his neck...

You knew what he was. You knew what The Dragonborne did to your people...You should be scared...but, this Dragonborne hasn't done anything, right? And this feeling in your chest, the swelling of emotion like destiny was pulling on your heartstrings, it didn't mean nothing, right?

Katsuki was surprised to see you notice him, and twice as surprised to see you walk towards him. What was he thinking, coming all the way out here? This was crazy. He shouldn't fear you...He didn't fear you! who said that?

"Hey," he barked, stepping closer to you. You didn't back down. "Hey," you said inquisitively, your hands twitching a little as you wanted to reach out and touch him. "W-who are you," he growled, a little bit of steam blowing out of his nose. stuttering? what, was he five? He cursed himself in his head, hating that he of all people would fall nervous in front of a beautiful woman.

"Who are you," you countered, at this point you were just echoing what he was saying. You shook your head, not wanting to be so...annoying. "I-I'm (Y/n)," you blurted out, sticking your hand out for him to shake. he pushed it to the side, getting closer and crossing his arms. "How did you get here? Where are you from," he interrogated, staring you down.

You just stared back, not one to be intimidated, and pursed your lips a little. "uh, I swam, and Gildflå," you chortled, a little attitude in your tone as you gestured vaguely to the creek. He looked where you pointed, glancing back and forth as his scowl deepened. Who the fuck does this chick think she is? He's never heard of any Gildflå, and he knows every country in the world. "You think I'm joking," he scoffed, glaring daggers at you.

"No...I mean, if you are, you're not very funny," you tittered, looking past him now. "And I could ask you the same thing, where are you from, how did you get here?" He rolled his eyes, but answered all the same. "I'm from Forrmidūl, and I walked." He was nothing if not honest. "What's Forrmidūl?" You didn't know? nobody this side of the planet didn't know. "alright, now you're joking." You laughed and shook you head, walking back to the stump and taking a seat. He followed without even thinking, like a lost puppy, and sat next to you. "I wish I was. I'm not really from here," you sighed.

...you really weren't from here. Katsuki knew when people were lying, he could smell it, and he couldn't smell the sweet yet bitter scent of deception on you. He took your appearance, from the roots of your hair to the tips of your toes, completely enamored. You wore a ring that had engravings of a language he's never heard before, inlaid with gemstones he's never seen.

"...You're a faerie." He didn't sound shocked, or happy, or devious. He was just making a statement, an observation. You looked away from him, down at your hands, and smiled a little. "aaand you're a Dragonborne," you sighed, glancing back at him. "...What's it like," you ask quietly, brows creasing with confusion, perhaps even desperation. "What's what like," he grumbled, patience as thin as ever.

"Out there," you stated, tilting your head towards where he came from. You were so clueless, he almost felt bad for you. almost. He rolled her eyes, looking down at the water. "Dangerous. 's not a place little faerie girls who don't know shit," he said scornfully.

You laughed a little, looking up at the sky as it began to slowly fade into orange. "Well...What if you made me know shit," you offered, looking over at him with pleading eyes. Now it was his turn to laugh, his eyes meeting yours. "Yeah? What'd I get in return?"

you hummed in thought, bringing your knees to your chest. "I could...heal that," you said with a teasing tone, pointing at his wounds. He was about to just scoff and get up to leave, but something in him told him to accept. He wanted to spend more time with you.

"...You know magic," he asked gruffly. You nodded eagerly, gold flakes coming from the tips of your fingers just to prove it. "I can make potions too," you proposed, wanting any reason to both learn about the outside and keep spending time with him.

He thought for a moment, looking at the water as he did so. People who could do magic so easily were rare, if not impossible to find. "...every day you bring me a potion of my choosing, I'll give you a lesson."

You grinned widely and practically jumped up with joy, immediately giving him a squeezing hug. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou," you squealed. He was stunned for a moment, but quickly pushed you off. "yeah yeah, I'm the best, whatever, shut up," he groaned, standing up. "Bring me a healing potion tomorrow, and I'll teach you then."

you nodded happily, that gorgeous smile unwavering. "Will you be shirtless tomorrow too," you teased, your eyes holding mischief. He froze, shocked for a second, before turning scarlet and growling. "You want this or not," he shouted, practically foaming at the mouth.

You just laughed, waving him off as he walked back to the woods and kept his arms crossed over his chest. You were just about to leave too, when you realized something important. "Wait!"

He begrudgingly turned around, shouting, "what," as loud as you were. "What's your name," you asked, a curious look on your face. He paused, pressing his lips together. "...You gonna cast a spell on me or somthin'?"

You chuckled, you never knew such a myth existed here. "No, You're just hot and I figured that'd be important," you called back. He tensed, redness flooding from his face to his neck, before whipping around towards the forest. "It's Katsuki," he grumbled, hands stuffed in his pockets.

You laughed, yelling, "Byeee Katsuki!"

Stupid girl. Doesn't even know how good his name sounded coming from her damn mouth.

Stupid feelings.

Ahhhh it's startingggg! please please please let me know how you feel, is it bad, is it good, are you completely confused, etc. I just love getting feedback, and if you have any questions please direct them to my Ask Me Anything box :)

Taglist: @xxiamabookdragonxx @the-galaxy-fiend

#fanfic #fan fiction #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #new writeblr #katsuki bakugo mha #fantasy bakugou #The Taming of Man

46 notes · View notes

possibilistfanfiction · 9 months

Note

Solid

[nowhere near done in any way that will eventually go into smth longer lol but a little florist/tattooist au softness in celebration of three (3)! movies :) ]

'will you tell me about it?' ava asks, then runs a finger, feather light, along your arm. 'your garden?'

you hum, roll over a little so you can see her better in the moonlight. the willamette is calm out the window, even during the storm, glinting with the lights of the city, the bridge, the hush of february snow. it's warm, underneath your covers in maybe the first real home you've ever had — or, at least, the first you've made for yourself.

it's heavy, the insurmountable grief that sits, even among the flowers, ava's gentle fingers, her forever broken spine: parents who didn't love you, even though they should have; parents who couldn't love you, even though they wanted to. but here it is, the quiet, the hum of a different kind of wanting. and so you tell her: the doubled-flowering chrysanthemum; the lotus and the plum blossom and tallow. field maple and wood anemone; the silver y moth and rose chafer. a water deer above your elbow, a hawk's wing along the jut of your wrist. to fill in gaps, just as you do now, hands in soil: yarrow, goldenrod, milkweed.

ava listens with wide, attentive eyes and the softest smile, encouraging you when your voice gets caught in your chest when you tell her about the asters in switzerland, or the way your brother used to press tender ferns between pages of his favorite mystery novels for you to find when you read them after him, and your grandmother's jasmine, steeped carefully into tea she swore could cure any ailment. you finish, let ava still at the space left blank on the underside of your wrist — two tethered marrowbones and countless others floating; the blue of your veins a lie — red, if you were to investigate under your skin — or a breath, anyway. and she waits, lungs easy, the wind howling outside and the bed warm, ava's palm solid against the ink.

'don't laugh—'

'—me? i would never—'

'i want a honeybee, to finish everything.'

there's fond mirth in her smile, but none of it cruel. 'i love that.'

it sounds a lot like something else, sounds a lot like i love you, and it sits at the tip of your tongue but you are not yet brave. instead: 'one day, will you do it for me?'

she lifts your wrist and kisses there, a promise of many, many things: years stretching before you; trips to the gorge; the break of the waves on the coast in the spring. 'i would be really honored.'

it's overwhelming, to be seen, so you tuck yourself into the crook of her neck and she brings her arms around you, allows you this cave where nothing can touch you — your thin ribcages strong and whole, jaws that never clench in fear, the warm salt of tears a footnote, a blessing.

#wn #wn fic #prompts #avatrice #avatrice fic #honestly i was simply being lazy bc bea is just Like This about Anything #she's never normal #love her :)#flowers au

86 notes · View notes

alicewritingstories · 2 months

Text

Febuwhump Day 23: Presumed dead

CW: Injury, apparent main character death

AO3

---

"You've got no right to talk to Sky that way."

Legend looked up at Twilight's accusing words and scowled at him. "What are you, his mom? If he's got something to say to me, he can say it himself."

"He's not going to because he's too nice, and I get why he doesn't want to fight back, but I'm still telling you you can't talk to him that way." Twilight meant it; he remembered how Midna had been at first and how that prickly exterior had hidden a genuinely good person, but that had been different. Her barbs had been aimed at him. Sky was too easy to bully and Legend's behavior was a thorn in a group that was still finding a way to work together and Twilight didn't know how anyone else tolerated it.

Legend rose slowly to his feet. He was a lot shorter than Twilight, but still stood as tall as he could to try to get nose-to-nose with him. "I'll talk to anyone I want however I want, Rancher. I'm not one of the snot-nosed kids from your backwater village who think you're hot stuff because you're the only person in town who can use a sword properly."

Twilight bared his teeth. "And don't talk about my home or my family that way either!"

"Hey!" Warriors' voice pierced Twilight's awareness and the captain thrust an arm between them. "Break it up, you two."

"Stay out of this, pretty boy," said Legend. "I can fight my own battles. Let's see if the rancher can."

"Legend -" Warriors' voice held a warning note, but Twilight talked over him.

"I can fight my own battles," he snapped. "And I can fight for people other than myself too: something you apparently don't have much experience with!"

"Twilight, that is out of line!" shouted Warriors, now turning to him.

"You don't know anything about my battles," snarled Legend.

"I'm fine not knowing what it's like to attack people who won't hit you back!"

Warriors caught Legend even as he lunged forward with a raised fist. Twilight was grabbed under the arms and dragged back against an armored chest.

"Walk away," snapped Time in his ear, shoving him towards the other side of the camp. He looked downright disgusted and at that look Twilight felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. He'd just wanted to tell Legend to lay off Sky a bit. He hadn't meant for it to escalate. What had he been supposed to do, just take it when Legend talked about Ordon and its people the way he had?

But there was no use getting back into it now and just looking at Legend - now on the far side of the camp with his back to everyone - made his blood boil. He walked away.

***

Twilight and Legend didn't speak to each other for the rest of the day or the next morning, despite the efforts of other members of the Chain. Legend made no attempt to approach Twilight and Twilight didn't want to be the first to break the impasse either. He wanted an apology. He wasn't the one who had started throwing insults.

Now he bitterly regretted that decision.

As he sat a little way outside camp, staring out at the surface of a small lake, he didn't notice the black monster blood stiffening the fur of his pelt into spikes. He didn't notice the jarred ache in his right arm and shoulder from catching a moblin's club on his shield. All he could focus on was the images flashing behind his eyes.

Sky falling with an arrow buried deep in his thigh.

The moblin raising a claymore over him.

Legend throwing himself in the huge blade's path.

Legend lying pinned to the ground, the claymore through his stomach.

Sky's screamed denials of what was happening. Time's grim expression. Wind crying. Blood on Warriors' and Four's hands as they eased the claymore free. Hyrule's thousand-yard stare as he laid his hands on his best friend's body.

Twilight had gone to patrol and make sure there were no more monsters lying in wait. He couldn't face this. Couldn't face the fact that Legend was… Legend had…

Even the thought couldn't quite form in his mind as he stared out at the rippling moonlight.

They'd made camp. He'd kept patrolling. Talking to nobody, ignoring their stares.

He'd been wrong. And he'd never be able to say so.

"Twilight."

The sound of his nickname startled him so much he almost sprang up, but he managed to restrain himself to just looking round as Time came to sit next to him.

"I've been looking for you for a while," he said softly.

Twilight locked his eyes on the water, unwilling to see the disappointment and anger he knew would be there on the old man's face.

"I can't…" he started. "I just…" The words caught in his throat. "I should have… I should have said I was sorry." The catch turned into a sob and he rubbed his eyes. "He's… he's dead and… the last thing I ever said to him… was that he doesn't know about fighting for other people and he only attacks those who won't hit him back."

Time didn't reply.

Twilight kept talking, bleeding words into the silence as surely as the tears dripped down his cheeks. "He sacrificed himself for Sky and… the last thing I said to him was that he… And now I'll never be able to tell him I'm sorry. That I didn't mean it, I just… I was angry and I lashed out and… and then I waited for him to apologize first and he started it but that doesn't matter, I'm supposed to be the adult and now the last thing I said to him…" Unable to bear it any more, he buried his face in his hands.

After a moment, Time laid a hand shockingly gently on his shoulder. "Twilight," he said softly, "I'm glad you realize this now and I hope it lasts past hearing what I came to tell you."

Twilight looked up, confused.

Time didn't look angry; he smiled a little and continued, "Legend's alive. You didn't stay after the battle long enough to see Hyrule heal him. I came looking for you because he wants to talk to you."

Twilight stared at him for a moment, the world seeming to slow just as it had in those horrible moments as the moblin cut Legend down. "He's… he's alive?" he asked.

Time nodded. "Yes, he's alive."

Then Twilight was on his feet, sprinting back to camp. He barrelled past the others, over to where Hyrule sat by Legend. By Legend, he realized, not his body, caring for a wounded man rather than keeping vigil by a corpse.

"Le-Legend…" he gasped, dropping to his knees and grabbing the smaller hylian's hand. "I'm sorry, I should never have said those things."

Legend snorted. "Damn right. But I was asking for it. I'm sorry too."

Twilight sighed in relief, pressing Legend's hand to his forehead, and smiled as Legend wriggled it free, grumbling under his breath. It showed he was alive. It showed things were back to normal.

#febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday23 #linked universe #linked universe whump #lu twilight #lu legend #cw: injury

28 notes · View notes

enchi-elm · 8 months

Text

My Tallster fanfic (Caleb Brewster/Benjamin Tallmadge) "You've Caught Me Between Wind and Water" is finally complete! Catch up on the final chapter here.

One of my favourite things about having come to the end of writing it is being able to track, in a more holistic way, the growth I wrote in Caleb's character arc. It really surprised me, in a story that is primarily told from Ben's POV, how much Caleb's growth is what drives the emotional development. <3

#turn amc #You've Caught Me Between Wind and Water #my edits #caleb brewster #tallster #turn: washington's spies

14 notes · View notes

kingmaker-a · 3 months

Text

Troublemaker | Kim Jungeun

Hogwarts AU

Related: Ecdysis, You're a Keeper

Slytherin Prefect Reader x Gryffindor Troublemaker Kim Lip

Warnings/Tags: Enemies to Lovers(?), Reader is a stickler for the rules, Jungeun is usually up to something, references to other fics

Premise: Jungeun has been a pain in your side ever since you became a prefect. You've lost count of how much time you've lost holding her through detention. However, as the year slowly draws to a close, one routine patrol has you questioning why she causes trouble.

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: I was originally supposed to get this out on her birthday but life ended up happening, so happy valentines instead!

It’s hard to find the truth through tasseled moonlight, wooden oak creaks under every footfall.

You know what you see.

Sunset orange fades to luscious black waves, it clicks like a puzzle piece, a reminder of her haunt, the boathouse afloat Black Lake.

So why was she here?

Wind howls through every nook and cranny of the astronomy tower, creeping through the gaps in your cloak.

Still, she's unceasing in the biting, uncaring cold, much like the orrery that calls the tower home.

Much like you.

“Tch,” your tongue clicks at the roof of your mouth, frustration boils below the surface as you roll your neck.

She doesn't shift, doesn't budge an inch in the face of your restrained frustration.

A subtle kindness given your history.

Your thumb runs over the cold metal of your badge. Too many detentions to count.

At least half of them could've been avoided, if she didn’t look so smug, beaming with an almost arrogant pride.

Like she wanted to be caught.

Yet, there’s none of that, here in this moment.

“Kim,” you beckon, foot bouncing. At least you didn’t have to deal with her much longer.

Her head slinks between her shoulders, leaning deeper against the railing.

You roll your eyes, why your safe haven of all places?

She sighs and you hate the way it tugs, pulls you closer. If she hears your approach, she makes no acknowledgement, her eyes linger on the courtyard far below.

Your ears prickle against the sound of metal against metal, slight and faint. Your eyes remain focused, diligent, plucking out the distant paired silhouettes, one Gryffindor, one Slytherin.

She scoffs when you take your spot next to her, elbows resting against the railing. You can't help the scowl that burns across your lips as you lean forward, too preoccupied with your prefect duties.

It’s a brief glance at her that paints the picture, melancholic and lost.

Your eyes trace back over the figures, you can practically feel the pulse of animosity and conflict, it burns in the Slytherin’s veins.

Hyeju and Keeper.

“You know if it bothers you so much, they are breaking curfew.” It’s unlike you to offer a kindle of warmth, unlike you at least, when it comes to her.

That's why you're not surprised when she laughs, unable to reel it in as she keels against the railing.

Her hair ripples with sunlight for the briefest moments, her laughter waters her eyes as her fingers stem the flow.

“You know,” her words are like the first bite into decadent chocolate. “No one would believe me if I told them you were funny.”

There’s a wistfulness to her smile as her eyes languish back to the courtyard, it’s frail, drought with something unspoken. There’s a slight gleam to her eyes as she settles, tentatively, on you.

“It’s fine, really.” She falters underneath your serious gaze, choosing to focus on the night sky. You catch the slightest glint of something metallic in her hand, red and gold. It catches against the moonlight before she finally palms it. “If anything it’s my fault.”

Her eyes crinkle as she offers another smile, another attempt in reassurance.

This wasn’t your dynamic, it’s always been an accustomed silence in detention. Aside from the brief arguments she paints in her defense, it’s never been more than that.

Yet, something shifts, under the shade of her melancholy. Perhaps, the night brings with it, its own sort of magic.

You take a deep breath, eyes cast asunder through the dark crevices of the night.

“What’s on your mind Kim?”

The wind howls in those few silent, fraught seconds. You miss the luster of moonlight that flashes through her hair.

She scoffs, reality crashes against her in a gigantic wave. It’s an odd comfort to have you of all people check up on her. You don’t notice the way her eyes linger on you with a shaky edge.

Her eyes trail yours, gliding against speckled fairy dust.

Her breath grows shaky, wheezing with a poor attempt at a laugh.

“A lot.”

Her words weigh heavy with the black that mars her hair. She almost sinks lower under your gaze.

Orange has always been one of your favorite colors, even in spite of Jungeun’s insipid antics.

Somehow, part of you misses the flare of orange. Even if it often spelt the loss of your own free time.

Metal grinds against the railing, a nervous twitch.

“Run me through it, Jungeun.” It’s not often that your voice is painted with a soft velvet, even more so in her company.

You can’t help but arch an eyebrow as she whines, shrinking against the railing. Her hair runs adrift with waves of moonlight.

It’s hard to pick out, against the moonlight. But part of you swears there’s the slightest hint of rosy pink.

She steadies herself, tugged ashore by a deep breath as her hair returns to a deep obsidian black.

You two have never been particularly close.

But there’s something held in the cloisters of the astronomy tower, that almost makes it feel otherwise.

“Do you like Keeper?”

Her eyebrows scrunch, pulled together at the ends by a rough indignance. It slowly softens, lingering like a fading wave.

Her voice is small, soft like flakes of snow.

“No.”

Her lips scrunch, almost wincing as she says it.

“Not romantically at least…”

There’s something that catches on her breath as she looks at you, forlorn and lost. Her eyes shimmer like glass as her lips quiver.

It’s odd to see her offer a smile to you of all people, caught in the dust of those frail, heart aching moments.

It falters and slips, crashing against the ground like a glass of wine.

For the first time you’re hesitant.

If she was any of your other peers, you’d pull her close like a held breath.

Perhaps it is the house of the lion that holds her strong as she offers a weak laugh. Her teeth flare into an almost ironic smile.

“I said, I’d always have their back.” Her grip tightens against the railing, knuckles twisting into a bone white. “...and I didn’t-”

You can’t help the smile that burns across your lips, settling into a soft smirk.

“You told Yoongi about the tea shop.”

It’s hard to ignore the enjoyment you feel as she deflates, eyes pointed like a dagger.

“You know you’re ruining the fun.”

“Isn’t that my job?”

She rolls her eyes with an annoyed knowing groan. In spite of it all, her lips curve into a soft, curious smile.

She offers you her hand, the moment is soft and almost poignant.

If not for the object held in her palm.

It glimmers softly in the moonlight.

A Gryffindor prefect badge.

“It might be my job soon,” her hair brims with the slightest hint of life, the darkest shade of orange you can imagine.

The details aren’t lost on you, as irrelevant as they might be. The badge in its own way, being a weird, twisted sort of inheritance, set forth by Kim ‘Sua’ Bora.

She had always been brash and confident almost arrogantly so, but you never expected her to end up bedridden in St. Mungo’s.

There is something to be said about lions not being ravens.

“You don’t sound too enthused,” your voice clings to the eves, between the sparkle held between distant stars.

Her smile falters, scraped off like flaking paint. “I-... yeah.”

The orrery ticks away, unceasing in its ministrations. You can taste the cold edge of the night air, it creeps in, snuffing the flame of any words that burn at your throat.

She turns to you, eyes soft like sugar glass.

“...You really don’t have anything to say huh?” It’s hard to notice that which goes unsaid in her voice, it’s a spattering of paints, messy and troublesome. It tastes of melancholy, yet it burns with the poison of something else entirely.

She laughs with an almost throaty derision, the punchline to an unspoken joke.

“You really don’t care huh?” She scoffs, her voice echoing with wounds and scars, her hair burns an almost violent shade of orange. “I’ve been a pain in your ass since you became a prefect.”

Her teeth grit together like sandstone and gravel. It’s hard to ignore the way her eyebrows twitch and tense as it all slowly fades under a shaky breath.

So too does the orange, fading into the familiar shade of sunset orange, that you’d come to know.

The exact same shade that was your favorite.

She laughs weakly, as if it should be obvious.

But you don’t see the joke.

“...Fuck,” she wheezes, there’s a dreary fatigue that clings to every syllable. “I know we’re not close, but nothing? Not even a hint of annoyance? Frustration at whoever was stupid enough to sign off on this mess?”

She was right… That is a lot.

Her hand presses into her face, fingers eventually settling on the bridge of her nose. Her breathing, seethes, boiling with a frothing edge.

There’s something that lingers on the tip of her tongue, a snake ready to pounce, violent and eager.

“Are you done Jungeun?”

Despite all that brims below the surface, she pulls back, lips settling into the slightest scowl. Her eyes burn with a defiant heat, even if nothing else leaves her lips.

She’s ready to jump at any mistake or sign of weakness. Sadly for her, there will be no such moment.

“Who,” It’s felt in your tone, rigid and cold like the harshest winter. You push forward prodding with an annoyed arch of a brow.

“Do you think Headmistress Kwon,” each word pushes her back as her feet stumble desperately to keep pace. The blood of the snake salivates at the surprise that echoes in her eyes. “Went to first?”

Her back catches against ancient stone, her hands holding her steady.

… She’s beautiful, painted lovingly by the moonlight. It’s hard not to smile, it really is.

She gulps nervously as she looks up at you, the fire of trouble and rebellion snuffed under your gaze.

You place a hand just shy of her face, the ancient stone of Hogwarts is cool to the touch.

She twitches anxiously, gaze turning away from you, cast out towards the pale moonlight.

She's a far cry from the girl who stood before you mere moments before, even further still from the troublemaker you had come to know.

A memory sticks out to you, a question from Minji on the eve of your fifth year. It’s odd the way you can trace the anxiety, inch by inch.

“What's your favorite color?”

It’s hard to miss the way she squirms under your prolonged gaze, much like she did back then.

You smile, fingers trailing through the strands that frame her face. She can't help the way she nuzzles into your touch, her lips curving into the smallest smile.

Your thumb caresses her cheek, tugging ever so softly,“you really are trouble, you know?”

Her smile deepens as she loses herself in your eyes. Her hand clasps over yours pulling your touch deeper.

“You finally noticed huh?” her voice reduced to a soft velveteen. Part of you still hates the cocky, coy smile that blooms across her lips.

But you’re too focused on the fingers that linger against your chin, coaxing you forward with her half lidded eyes.

She kisses you.

Her lips ache with tentative softness, an anxious worry that you can taste in those chaste moments between two.

A smile licks its way across her lips, eyes lingering with a rosy hue.

“Only for you.”

25 notes · View notes

phoward89 · 2 days

Text

Masterlist

Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Delulu!Coryo, obsession, manipulation, toxic relationship, cussing, slight smut (clit rubbing), etc

Chapter 6:

Coryo blinked his eyes open as the harsh morning sunlight streamed thru your bedroom window. Unlike his windows back in his family's Capitol penthouse, yours didn't have curtains. He groaned, not wanting to wake up just yet.

Looking down, he smiles as he takes in the sight of you curled into him. Your head’s still resting on his chest, using it as a pillow, while your arms are slung around him; your legs are entwined with his too. To him you look so ethereal, like a beautiful angel, as you slept clinging to him.

The platinum blonde peacekeeper felt like the luckiest man alive with you snug in his arms. Despite the turn that last night took between you (him pushing you a little too hard for your first time) he felt like this was the perfect morning after. Just watching you peacefully sleep in his arms, the early morning sun radiating brightness on your skin, was enough to bring a lopsided smile to his face.

Lazily, he ghosted his long, calloused fingers over your bare back. He traced his fingertips with a barely there touch up and down your spine, just watching you and waiting for you to stir. And eventually, you did stir.

Feeling a featherlight touch on your spine, you shiver and open your eyes. Looking up at Coryo, you groggily smile, “G’morning.”

“Good morning, beautiful.” Coryo smiled, pressing a kiss against your lips.

You've never been given a good morning wakeup kiss before, so naturally you blushed and smiled sillily into the kiss. A kiss which deepened fairly quickly due to Coryo's hunger for you.

And the boy was hungry for you all the time. He had a desire for you, like a starving man has for a meal. You're the water to the platinum peacekeeper's unquenchable thirst. You're the only thing to satisfy the longing in Coryo's dark soul because you're the sunshine to his dark days.

“Coryo, we need to get up.” You sighed, trying to push your boyfriend away from you as he planted kisses up and down your jawline while rubbing your ass with one of his large hands.

Pulling his lips from your jaw and looking at you, he seriously asked, “Can you be quiet?”

“Why?” You counter, hoping he wasn't alluding to sleeping together, again, this morning.

“I'll let you be on top, go your own pace.” Coryo tells you as his hand, that was on your ass, stopped rubbing it and slid between your legs to tease your folds.

“Coryo, it's morning. We should get up.” You protested, breath hitching as his middle finger slid up and down your folds, only to stop and teasingly rub your clit.

“As long as we're quiet we shouldn't get caught. Plus, your brother was drinking an awful lot last night; bet he's still asleep.”

“Rein always drinks, that's nothing new.” You told your boyfriend, causing him to frown.

“So your brother's a drunk?” Coriolanus rhetorically asked. Shaking his head, heavily sighed, “I don't like that, baby. Dunks don't have a good hold on their senses; what if he hurts you when he's 3 sheets to the wind?”

“He won't-” you began, only for him to interrupt you with a firm, “But what if he does, Y/N? There's always a first time when it comes to being drunk.”

Coryo knows first hand how getting drunk can impair and impact your judgment and senses. Hell, he lost his virginity to some random girl in an alleyway behind a club because of a drunken bet with Festus Creed. He was drunk off his ass on posca that night. But it did earn him a bit of a reputation; began his secret life of being a fuckboy too…

But anyways…

“Why don't you let me inquire about a place for us. One in the nice part of the district, close to the barracks?” Coryo suggests with a smile. His hand, that's not between your legs teasing you, gently cups your cheek as he hums out an assuring, “Hmm?”

“I dunno, Coryo.” You shakily said, feeling yourself grow wetter from his fingers teasing your folds.

“How bout if I find a nice place we'll check it out? Hmm, my darling rose?” Coryo suggested, softly stroking your cheekbone with the rough pad of his thumb.

You curiously raised a brow, “But I thought that Peacekeepers can't marry or live with a woman?”

“Privates can't, but I won't be one for long because I'm going to pass my Officer's Exam; I'm going to be able to give you the life that you deserve.” Coriolanus replied with such conviction, that his word had to be solid and true. With a charming smile, he adds, “Plus, for time being, I can head out of our place early and get to base before wakeup call.”

“This is all so sudden, Coryo.” You honestly told him, since you did feel like everything was happening out of the blue. As if you blinked and your entire life just changed.

The platinum blonde in your bed didn't like hearing that. In fact, it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. It concerned him; made him afraid that you'd push him away. What if last night had anything to do with your thinking? Oh, Coriolanus knew that he had a lot of damage control to do when it came to you.

He couldn't lose you. Not now. So, he had to lay the charm on thick.

Removing his hand from between your thighs and using it to run soothing circles on your lower back, Coryo told you with an unnatural gentleness in his rough baritone, “Baby, are you leery of being serious with me because I got a bit carried away last night? And be honest with me, okay?”

“No.” You shook your head, causing Coriolanus let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

His eyes bore into yours, looking for an explanation to why you're hesitant on him finding the two of you a place. You knew you needed to give him an answer to why you're hesitant about it, but you're not sure if your explanation would make sense to him. So, you worry your lip and try to find the right words to say.

Using his thumb to pull your bottom lip free from your teeth, he lightly scolded, “Don't bite your lip, baby.” Soothingly rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, Coryo implored, “Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it.”

He was secretly hoping that you're being honest about not being freaked out bout last night's rough fucking. He still thinks he has a lot of charm and damage control to lay on you for that.

“It's just…” You sigh, only to carry on with your explanation of, “One day we’re friends, the next I'm your girl, and now you're talking ‘bout getting our own place.” Shaking your head, you admit the truth of your situation. “It just seems fast, you know, since it's all happening within like a week of meeting.”

And there it is. You're afraid of how this looks. Probably because you're a poor district girl and he's a peacekeeper. Coriolanus isn't dumb, he knows that district citizens hate peacekeepers; look down on relationships between district girls and peacekeepers.

“But we've got love at first sight on our side, darling.” Coryo tells you in the most loving tone he can muster. Bringing his forehead to rest against yours, he swears, “What we have other people would kill for. Love at first sight’s very special and I'll be damned if I let district social rules keep us apart.” His hands lovingly caresses your cheeks as he declares with a twinkle in his baby blues, “I love you and I'm going to take good care of you, Y/N, no matter what.”

That love declaration took you aback. You honestly weren't expecting it, but it did touch your heart. Even if he loves you more than you love him right now (you really like him a lot, but you're still on the fence post about whether or not you love him), you're willing to give him a chance. Coryo loves you so much, after just a few meetings, that he swears to take care of you.

That's not something to take lightly, especially in the hard scrapple district of 12.

A man willing to take care of his girl, no matter who he is or what he does, is a huge declaration of love and devotion. Or at least it is in the poverty outlying districts. And it's a sure sign that the man's a keeper.

So, despite Coryo being a peacekeeper from the Capitol, in your books he's a keeper.

“I love you too, Coryo. And I'll let you take care of me.” You replied with a smile, because you couldn't afford to lose him. Not when everything you've been raised to believe is screaming at you that your boyfriend's a good man; a man that you need in your life.

“So, you agree to me finding us a place then?” Coryo asked, testing you to see if you'd truly let him take care of you or not.

What did you have to lose? You live in a glorified wooden shack with your miner brother that drinks too much and his barmaid girlfriend. You got fired from your job and so far no other shopkeepers are willing to hire you either. Coryo's certain that he'll pass his Officer's Exam, will be sent to a nicer district to train and serve. And since he promised to take care of you always, he'd surely bring you to a nicer district.

Right?

So, although his love seems all consuming and a bit suffocating, it's also redemptive in a way- in a way that'll give you a better life then the hum drum and depressing one you currently have.

So, you nod and tell Coryo, “Yes, you can find us a place.”

“Good to hear, baby.” Coryo grins triumphantly before kissing you.

But before the kiss has a chance to turn heated, Ashlie's voice calls out from the kitchen with, “Y/N, wake up! I need help with breakfast!”

“Damnit, she would be up.” Coriolanus grumbled under his breath. He knew that he couldn't fuck you this morning, not with your sister-in-law up and wanting your help with breakfast. It'd be too risky; you'd be caught for sure.

“I’ll be right there!” You called back before flinging the blanket off and untangling yourself from Coryo.

When you looked down and saw the blood on the sheet paired with the dried crimson on both your thighs and Coryo's cock you froze. Your eyes blinked and you just stared at it. The reality of what happened last night hits you full force like a freight train from 6.

Coryo quickly realizes what's got you zoning out, so he sits up and cups your cheeks- making you look into his crystal clear blue eyes. “Y/N, it's okay. The blood’s normal for a virgin’s first time.” He assured you in a gentle tone. “Don't be scared, everything's fine, darling.”

“Everything's not fine, Coryo. I'm going to get in so much trouble come laundry day…”

“Okay, how bout we hide the sheet in your closet and clean it ourselves? Hmm?”

“We don't have a bath or a shower, Coryo. There's going to be a bloody washcloth as evidence too.”

“Jesus…you don't have a fucking shower?” Coriolanus couldn't believe this. It's worse than he thought. You live in fucking squalor. Oh, he definitely needs to get you out of this shithole.

No future First Lady of his is living like a fucking peasent. Not when he can help it.

Damn, even he had a shower back in the Capitol and his family didn't have a pot to piss in.

“No.” You shook your head.

“Listen to me, darling.” Coryo orders before telling you the details of his sudden plan, “You stay right here and I'll grab a wet cloth from the bathroom, then I'll clean us both up. After we get dressed, you'll go help Ashlie with breakfast and I'll strip the bed- hide the sheets and the washcloth in your closet and put clean sheets on before joining you in the kitchen.”

“Okay.” You nod, causing Coryo to get out of bed and put on his boxers before going to the bathroom to grab a washcloth in order to set your plan in motion.

“Morning, Y/N, did you sleep well?” Ashlie asked as you stepped into the kitchen. Your hair, much to Coryo's urging, was placed over your shoulders to hide the love bite he left on your neck last night. You hope that it's not noticeable to Ashlie, because that'd just be embarrassing to have to explain.

But unknown to you, Ashlie heard everything-

EVERYTHING-

last night because, despite telling you to shut up, Coriolanus wasn't quiet at all. In fact he was loud and the bed banging against the thin wall was loud too.

So Ashlie knows what happened last night, or at least she has a good idea of what happened.

“I'm making oatmeal.” Ashlie told you, stirring a gloopy mixture of bland oats and a few days old goats milk in the cookpot. Gesturing to a steaming tin mug, she said, “I made you some morning tea.”

“But I usually have chicory coffee.” You replied, eying the tea warily since you never had tea in the house. In fact, the only one that drank tea was Ashlie, but it wasn't tea per say but a bunch of bitter dry herbs that she'd have the neighbor girl, Lucy Gray of the Covey, pick for her in the forest.

And, frankly, after what Coryo told you about Lucy Gray you doubt that he'd be pleased about you drinking anything that she picked. He doesn't want you around her, so…

“But with the shape your brother's in, and how he has a shift later tonight at the mines, he needs all the coffee he can get to sober up.” Ashlie said as a way to get you to accept that bitter herb tea she made for you. Oh and how she desperately wanted (no needed) you to drink that tea.

Turning your head, you saw your brother slouched in his sitting chair. He's still wearing his clothes from last night and he's got dried drool on one side of his face. His Seam grey eyes are glassy and bloodshot- a sure sign of a hangover. A tin mug full of chicory coffee is in one of his hands while his other is pressed against his temple in a vain attempt to alleviate his hangover headache.

Turning back to Ashlie, you say, “Yes, I suppose he does need the coffee.”, while reaching for your mug of tea.

Ashlie decides that now's the time to confront you about last night, while Coriolanus is still in your room. So, she grabs your wrist and pulls you close to her, all the while stirring the cookpot, and whispers into your ear, “You know what that peacekeeper did to you last night wasn't right.”

Before you could even bring the mug up to your lips, you go into shock at the brunette's words. Why would she say that to you? Oh my goodness, did she hear something last night?

Confirming your inner thoughts, Ashlie softly said, “The walls are thin; I heard everything he said and did to you, sweetheart.” Giving you a pitiful look, she added in, “You don't have to put up with that. You're a sweet girl and you deserve better than some peacekeeper that views you as an easy piece of ass he can do anything with.”

Her words hurt you, but they also made you mad. How dare she assume that Coryo was taking advantage of you last night. You agreed to fuck him. Yes, he pushed a bit hard towards the end, but you agreed to be with him.

Slamming down the tea mug, causing some of the hot liquid to slosh over the rim, you snapped, “What happened last night between me and Coryo is none of your business. I agreed to fuck him; he didn't make me do anything.” Snatching your wrist out of her grip, you turned on the kitchen sink and ran your hand under the tap, to cool the sting of the hot tea that split onto the hand holding the mug. “He pushed me a bit hard for my first time, but we talked about it, like a couple does, and everything's fine.”

“Y/N, he's not a good man. The things I heard him say last night…good men don't say those things to their girlfriends.” Ashlie told you, quiet enough so that your brother couldn't hear her, in a vain attempt to get you to see how much of a selfish lover Coryo was. Or at least that's how she viewed him.

You on the other hand viewed Coryo as a good boyfriend, as somebody that loved you a lot and quickly. To you he was very devoted.

You didn't know that his love and devotion was actually a sick obsession that was also possessive, but you don't need to worry about that small, minor detail.

To-may-to, to-mah-to, right?

“Why don't you worry about my drunk brother and keep your nose out of my relationship.” You harshly hissed at Ashlie, sounding so unlike yourself, right as Coryo entered the kitchen.

Looking between your hand under the running tap and Ashlie, who he didn't like solely because she was giving him a dirty look, he asked, “Is everything alright in here, babygirl?”

“I accidentally spilled some hot tea on my hand when I set my mug down.” You told Coryo while turning off the tap and patting your hand dry with a hand towel.

Coryo knew that wasn't the only thing that occured in the kitchen, but he needed to get you out of the house to ask what you and that ratty whore from the Hobb talked about while he was cleaning up your bed.

Walking up to you, he placed a gentle hand on your back and ordered in a suggestive tone, “Darling, let's go to the Mellark Bakery.”

“The bakery? But I'm making breakfast!” Ashlie exclaimed in an exasperated protest.

A cruel smirk appeared on the platinum peacekeeper’s angular face as he told her, “I promised my baby that I'd take her to the bakery today and I'm a man of my word.” Turning to you with a look of love and adoration, Coryo simply said, “Come along, Y/N.”, while leading you out of the kitchen.

Ashlie was appalled with the way Coryo was treating you. She was also appalled that you're just letting him do it too.

“Where ya goin’?” Rein asked, his voice scratchy and heavy with last night's booze, as you and Coryo walked by his sitting chair.

“Coryo's taking me to the Mellark Bakery for breakfast.” You answered your brother while Ashlie stared at the scene.

Oh how Ashlie was so pissed at Rein. If only your brother wasn't hungover right now. If he was sober he'd stop Private Snow from taking you out of the house.

“Just don't break any bread over the hearth; I ain't having that in my family.” Your brother seriously told you, pointing his coffee cup at your boyfriend. Truthfully, the thought of you marrying a peacekeeper terrified your brother whether he was sober, drunk, or hungover.

You're too much like your mother for your own good. Rein can't handle it. It's deja vu. Like history repeating itself all over again and he'll be damned if he sits back and watches you pick a peacekeeper over your own kind, the citizens of District 12.

“We won't.” You promised before walking out the door with Coryo.

As soon as you're on the front porch, Coryo asks, “What'd he mean by breaking bread over the hearth?”

“It's how people in 12 get married. It's called a toasting; you share a loaf of bread over a fire you stoke.”

“That's an odd way of getting married.” Coryo remarked as you walked down the porch steps.

Honestly, he viewed it to be a bit primal and uncivilized. In the Capitol couples have large ceremonies (modest if they're middle class or low class), exchange vows, and have a lovely reception only to follow it up with a honeymoon. The thought of being declared married due to breaking bread in front of a hearth was baffling. It proves to Coriolanus that the Districts are below the Capitol.

Well, thankfully he'll be dragging you back to the Capitol for a proper wedding ceremony. It'd be a cold day in hell before he had a toasting.

“Yea, but it's how things are done around here.” You tell him, linking arms with him and starting down the street.

Coryo just nods, accepting your remark. He has other matters to get to the bottom of this morning; debating the classless way 12 holds a marriage ceremony isn't that important. Not compared to what he needs to get aired out.

“What did I really walk into when I entered the kitchen? And don't tell me it was just you running tap water over your hand.”

Great, he would pick up that something was wrong. You didn't want to tell him, since you found it to be embarrassing, but you also had a feeling that he wouldn't like it very much if you lied to him.

So, despite being embarrassed, you told him the truth. “Ashlie overheard us last night; she decided to talk to me about it.”

“Jesus…” Coryo trails off in disbelief. You're 18, the time for that talk has come and gone in his opinion. Hell, he knows for a fact that girls in the districts are marrying and popping out babies pretty young in the Districts- like 15, 16 young. “She was giving you a sex talk? Damn, that's embarrassing.” Your boyfriend chuckles, hoping to lighten up the awkward subject.

“No,” You shook your head, “she was giving me a he’s not good enough for you and you shouldn't have fucked him talk.”

“Fucking ratty whore…” Coriolanus lowly muttered under his breath, jaw clenched tightly in anger.

How dare that dumb district whore say such things to you? Trying to turn you against him when he's the best goddamn thing to happen to you.

Coryo took his free hand and patted your arm the was linked with his, all the while assuring you, “Don't pay Ashlie any mind, she doesn't understand what we have and what we feel for each other.” Leaning his head down to press a comforting kiss to your temple, he told you, “I love you, baby, and I'm always going to love you. Don't let some bitter barmaid whose biological clock's ticking tell you otherwise.”

Before you could say anything to Coryo, you heard a commotion and turned your head in the direction the ruckus was coming from only to see a pair of on duty Peacekeepers dragging Arlo Chance out of the house he shared with Lil and Spruce. And talk about Lil, she was screaming hysterically while chasing after them, screaming and crying: “He didn't do nothing! Let him go, he didn't do nothing!”

Coryo looks between you and the scene unfolding at your neighbor's shack. “Do you know them?” He asks, hoping that you didn't. You knowing criminals is worse than you knowing the Covey in his books. Uh, maybe they're neck and neck. Who knows…

“The man being dragged away’s Arlo Chance, he works in the mines with my brother; he's around his age too, and the girl's Lil. She's Arlo's girlfriend; they live with her brother.”

“Are you friends with Lil?” Your platinum peacekeeper, casually dressed in an oversized white tee and his issued denim pants, asked. He put a light, curious tone in his question, even tho he was hoping that you're not friends with a girl who's man is a criminal.

And in Coriolanus' eyes Arlo Chance is a criminal because his fellow peacekeepers wouldn't just cart him away if he didn't do anything. He knew that the seasoned squads were on a manhunt for whoever blew up a mine earlier in the week. Now he has a hunch about who the culprit was in that.

“I'm friends with Lil, but she's a bit closer to Ashlie since their men are miners.” You admit to Coryo.

“Oh, I see.” Coryo nods studiously while dragging you swiftly down the street. “Well, I advise you not to be so friendly with her anymore since that man of hers is under arrest for the mine bombing that happened the other day.”

“What?! Arlo blew up the mine!?” You shrieked, eyes wide with shock.

Coriolanus internally groaned at your reaction. He wanted to tell you to shut up, but he didn't want to risk you getting upset. Not after last night. He needs to give you some time to get comfortable with him and his overbearing affections before he can scold you.

“Yes, darling, that's my understanding, so I advise you to stay away from Lil unless you want to be labeled a rebel.” Was the order, disguised as a suggestion, that your boyfriend gave you: his baritone curt and cold as ice.

“But Lil lives a few houses away; she comes over to visit often.”

“Then I suppose this is the reason you need to let me find us a place.” Coryo firmly said, a dead serious look shining in his crystal blue eyes.

Coriolanus kept a keen eye open for any for rent signs in apartment windows while walking to the Mellark Bakery with you. The sooner he got you out of that hellhole you called home the better. Honestly, he needed you alone in your own apartment so that he could condition you; turn you into the perfect Capitolite wife. Despite you being District, you're the kindest, warmest, purest soul he's ever met and he's sure that with the right etiquette training and rhetoric lessons that he'll be able to make you acceptable to proper society- because he can't have people turning their nose up at your District origins.

And if they do, well, he'd probably kill them for daring to speak a word against you.

Yea…

He's got it bad for you.

And of course, the townsfolk stared at you while you walked with your boyfriend. Tongues waggled too. All kinds of things were whispered about you and the platinum peacekeeper, but one thing kept coming up between a few folks of a certain age.

Your mother and your father; how the apple don't fall far from the tree.

“Here we are, darling.” Coryo announced with a smile, his pearly whites shining brighter than his T-shirt, as you approached the bakery. “Now, remember, you can order anything you want, baby.” Your boyfriend smiled while opening up the door to the shop and subtly pushing you inside of the brick building

You could see racks of bread cooling as soon as you entered the bakery. And when your eyes landed on the displays of various pastries, your mouth began to water. The delicious smell wafting throughout the bakery also had your senses on overdrive. You've never been in the Mellark Bakery before, never having enough money to do so, so you're in awe of all the baked goods in the store.

Coryo has his hand on the small of your back while guiding you over to the display case full of various baked goods. “Let's see what they got, shall we, baby?” He suggested with his large, Cheshire cat like grin.

“Okay.” You nod, smiling excitedly. You still can't believe that you're in the bakery; can order anything you want too.

The baker's wife is behind the counter, eying you and Coryo up uneasily. She's used to peacekeepers coming in, but she doesn't like those from the Seam. And, well, to have a handsome peacekeeper with a Seam girl- nothing but a poor wretch of a girl- eying up her display case and sweetly discussing the various pastires disgusted her.

Mrs. Mellark didn't want to service you, because of your Seam residency, but she has no choice but to smile and politely ask how she could help because you're with Coryo, an off duty peacekeeper. It killed the merchant deep inside her soul to do that too.

Coryo ordered you both a chocolate croissant and black coffee with sugar. Mrs. Mellark quickly made up your order and gave it to him. She gave Coryo a discount, like she did all peacekeepers (as a sort of bribe to keep them coming back for more baked goods on their days off) and thanked him with a big, but fake smile as he dismissively told her to keep the change (it was only a few measley pennies anyways).

Coryo and you ended up sitting on a bench in the town square, eating your pastries and drinking your coffee while talking about the tiniest things.

“Are you enjoying your pain au chocolat, baby?” Coryo asked with a genuine smile from ear to ear while watching you scarl down your pastry.

“Yes.” You reply before taking another bite. “Is that what chocolate filled croissants are called in the. Capitol? Pain au chocolate?” You ask, wondering about the term he used to inquire about your like of the sweet pastry.

“Yes.” Coryo nodded, sipping on his coffee. “And in the Capitol our coffee would be called sweetened black instead of black with sugar.”

“The Capitol has pleasant sounding names for things, doesn't it.” You stated although it sounds more like a question.

“It does.” Coryo agreed with manic smile. “Perhaps we'll be able to go back there on day.” He proposed before taking a precise and gentlemanly bite out of his croissant.

You knew his remark was just wishful thinking since Coryo was from the Capitol. You knew, as much as he did, that he'd never return to the Capitol; that he'll never take you there either. But it's nice to have hopes and dreams; you can't fault him for that.

So, being too kind for your own good, you give your boyfriend a smile and say, “Perhaps we will, Coryo.”

But only if you knew that Coriolanus Snow took your words very seriously and to heart. That by telling him that you just signed up for a one way ticket to the Capitol whether you liked it or not. Coryo’s taking you back with him when he's able to return; he's also making you Mrs. Snow and his First Lady. He's going to be making you the mother of his children (who, of course, will be heirs to one of the mightiest families in all of Capitol society) and he knows deep in his bones that you'll be a picture perfect mom- nurturing, gentle, soft. And since you'll be a picture perfect mom you'll also be a picture perfect wife.

If only you knew that Coriolanus Snow's a cunning, devious snake of a man that'll do anything to get what he wants. And what he wants is a life in the Capitol as filthy rich politician- no as President of Panem- with you by his side til you're old and grey; parted by nothing but death.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

108 notes · View notes

forlorn-crows · 1 year

Note

eating your blog...

give me some soft swiss and rain, after a rough scene or something >:) make swiss into a mess!!

raven! you've been so patient. i have some rulti for you tonight, thanks to this anon who suggested:

also, with inspiration from this drawing from @purlty (in which rain looks DELICIOUS)

no roughness, but they are soft and swiss is DEFINIETLY down bad. also transmasc rain bc i love him. and because @miasmaghoul suggested. happy valentine's day!!

Swiss’ mouth goes dry.

Rain’s a divine sight, all legs and quiet, devilish charm. He’s dressed in a tight red lacey thing, thighs already wet with slick. It’s not at all what he expected when Rain had slid up to him earlier, shyly requesting he come to his room after lunch. He thought maybe the water ghoul wanted a lazy afternoon cuddle or something like that. Certainly, he was not expecting to walk in on a blushing, scantily-clad treat.

Rain crosses his legs, softly squeezing his thighs together. Swiss can’t help the way his gaze trails south at the action.

“What do you think?” Rain asks in a small voice. The lilac hue creeps up to his ears as he bites his lip.

“What do I think?” Swiss parrots back to him, voice raspy. “Raincloud . . .” he shakes his head, trailing off. His hand is still on the door, halfway ajar. He forces himself to close it, yelling at his brain to come back online.

Rain has a sly little smile plastered across his face as Swiss makes his way to the bed. He rakes his hands up and down his torso, along the crimson frills that line both sides of the body suit. Swiss’ mouth hangs open as he watches him, entranced by his lithe fingers.

“You did this all for me, baby?” Swiss asks, kneeling onto the end of the bed.

Rain nods, drawing his hands lower and spreading his legs—those damn long, sinful legs—open again. Swiss can see how the red lace darkens at his crotch, clinging to the outline of his wet cunt.

“Wanted to look nice for you,” he whispers. He raises a delicate, beckoning hand.

Swiss huffs a laugh and takes his hand, drawing closer to the water ghoul. “You look more than nice, baby.” He’s hit with the scent of petrichor and sea salt, so strong it makes his breath hitch and cock kick. “Oh, fuck, raincloud.”

Swiss drops onto his hands, bracketing Rain’s torso. “Oh fuck,” he says again, softer, before closing the distance between their mouths. Rain whines into it, winding his arms around Swiss’ neck and drawing him all the way down.

Swiss is immediately drinking him in, rolling his hips slowly against Rain’s thigh and lapping into his mouth. He’s desperate, but a lazy desperate, the kind that overwhelms and dizzies, seeps into his bones and makes him melt. He wants to kiss every inch of the water ghoul, take his chubby clit into his mouth and drown in those soft thighs around his ears. But he can’t move, mouth firmly attached to the junction of Rain’s neck, cock rutting against his leg.

“Swiss,” Rain whispers, breath catching on a moan. Swiss feels more cool slick soak into the leg of his jeans. “Please, will you—oh—will you fuck me?”

Swiss groans and drags a hand down to Rain’s waist. He grips his side like a lifeline, simultaneously reveling at the texture of the lace under his fingertips. “Yeah, let me—” He reaches around to Rain’s back where he thinks the closure would be.

Rain puts a hand on his wrist. “N-no,” he says nervously. “I wanna keep it on, you can undo it on the bottom.”

Swiss’ brain really does stop working then, hips stilling and breath hitching. He stares at Rain, pupils blown wide, wrist still caught between his long fingers.

“What,” Rain says, biting back a smile. Swiss stares at the bright white glint of his fang in the dimming light. There’s a beat between him before Swiss blurts out: “That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said.”

Rain laughs, little giggles shaking his shoulders. “Is that okay?”

Instead of answering, Swiss swings his leg to the other side of Rain’s thigh and straddles him fully. He grinds against him before cupping his face and giving him a sweet, tender kiss. It still makes Rain gasp, bumping his forehead against Swiss’.

He nips the water’s ghoul’s lip, humming low. “Gonna turn you around, show you how fucking crazy you make me.” And he does, flipping Rain onto his stomach and unsnapping the bodysuit, sinking his face into his cunt with a moan.

“Oh Satanas, Swiss,” he gasps. The slide of his tongue is slow, hypnotizing. He can’t help but keen as it dips into him, hot and strong, before trailing back to his throbbing clit.

Swiss is making just as much noise as Rain, groaning and sighing as he laps him up.

“Please, need you inside me, please, Swiss,” Rain mewls, pushing back against his face. The multi ghoul is more than happy to oblige, shucking his clothes and freeing his straining cock.

“Lucifer, you’re so beautiful,” he purrs, giving himself a few strokes. He pushes in slowly, easily, both of them moaning into the quiet of the room. He stays buried to the hilt for a moment, breathing hotly into Rain’s ear. He can feel him trembling, all quivering thighs and shallow breaths.

Swiss nuzzles into his neck and places a kiss there. “I love you, raincloud. So much. Fuck, I can’t believe you’re mine.”

#transmasc rain #rulti #rain x swiss #the band ghost #ficlet #im doing a double special today #ask #raven #fanfic #rain ghoul #swiss army ghoul #ahahaha i had to stop myself with this one #theyre so LAKSJFK

133 notes · View notes

filthyfluffyfantasies · 6 months

Text

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: a/b/o dynamics subtly -read, poorly, hinted at by writer, use of pet names ( little one, pretty little thing, etc) and swearing. this part is tame and it's just to set the scene for the next, the disclaimer is here because it's a/b/o and some people lose their goddamn mind when they stumble across this type of thing in the tags.. writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt seventeen - a/b/o ( told in two parts )

character | fandom - alpha!werewolf!eddie munson | stranger things

reader | original character - female reader, omega & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 900

tagging - < taglist here >

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . you're chased through the woods by jason carver, an alpha from a rogue pack after you're caught out just as you're about to go into heat. the chase leads you straight to the doorstep of your true alpha, town loner Eddie Munson, aka the alpha with no pack..✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

There's something in the air that has every cell in his body on edge as he stands in the doorway of the abandoned cabin he calls home now. Eddie Munson watches the storm as it rolls in, thick fog settles in a hazy blanket just above the forest floor.

He can just barely see the lights of town in the distance and a glance skyward to watch as the moon peeks through thick clouds has him tensed up.

The air smells like rain..at first. But then, the mouth-watering scent of caramel edges in.

He's been catching faint hints of the same scent on the breeze all damn day and before he can stop himself, he feels the painful prick of fangs, threatening to pierce his gums. A howl rips from his throat as the wind picks up, fanning that sweet scent and the scent of earthy rain straight for him. It lingers, heavy. Inviting.

He breathes in deep.

Mate. Find her. Find her now. - it's the urgent cry from the animal trapped and buried within. It's a plea that Eddie Munson does his best to ignore for the fifth time in a day, but as he turns, every intention of going back inside the cabin, he's bowled over by the sweet scent. She's closer. Danger! Go to her. - it's the final outcry of the animal within before everything happens all at once.

You come crashing through the treeline and the storm that's been holding back all day finally kicks off. That asshole Carver, the future Alpha, he's hot on your tail. He's taunting you, laughing like a maniac as he tells you that him chasing you down is your own fault and you need to relax, let nature take its course.

Eddie normally stays far away from the business of everyone in town but this time, a red cloud of rage blinds him and before he knows he's doing it, he's dove from the porch of the abandoned cabin he calls home. He places himself between you and Jason Carver, arms folded over his chest as he towers over Jason at his full height.

❝ Get fucked, Carver. This sweet little thing is mine.❞

You look up at Eddie from the spot you've landed on the ground after tripping over a tree stump you failed to see in your haste to put some distance between yourself and the unwanted advances of Jason, the single most obnoxious Alpha asshole you'll ever encounter.

Is he my true Alpha? - you're staring up at the handsome loner in awe as the temperature of your body raises and dizziness settles in for you.

You're in heat. You never should've left your safe haven but all day long you've felt this pull to the forest. To a scent that keeps finding you on the breeze. The scent is stronger now, and you swallow hard as soon as your daze clears enough to realize that it's the handsome loner in front of you.

It has to be.

Eddie growls at Jason, the sound more animal than human and a clear warning for Jason to get lost.

❝ Take the bitch, man..❞ Jason smirks, ❝ She’s not good enough for me anyway. ❞

Jason makes a hasty retreat and Eddie kneels down next to you. Rough hands circle your ankle, the touch seems to cool down the raging fire in your veins but only a little. After he surveys your swollen ankle quietly, big brown eyes fix on you. ❝ You shouldn't be out by yourself, doll..❞

❝ I was trying to find you.❞ you mutter in response, dazed as you stare up at him through a curtain of hair. Eddie pulls himself off the wet ground and then he's hauling you up, it's rough but he doesn't mean to be. ❝ Yeah, well..❞ he answers quietly, ❝ Its dangerous, sweetheart..❞ he's carrying you over the threshold of the cabin, pausing to back against the door to close it so he doesn't have to put you down. ❝ You’re lucky I saw Carver chasin' after you.❞

❝ Yeah.❞ you murmur, exhausted from the running you've just done and on top of it, starting your heat cycle. You bury your nose in his neck and breathe in the scent of him because it's just about the only thing keeping you grounded at the moment.

Eddie carries you into the bedroom at the back of the cabin and he lays you down in his bed gently, muttering to himself that maybe just being surrounded by his scent will help.

But you don't want him to leave you, not like this, all alone in your weakened state in a cabin.

❝ Sweetheart, much as I'd love t' stay, that's not gonna keep our stomachs full. I'll come back.❞ Eddie grips your jaw to make you look up at him, ❝ You’re safe. Nobody ever comes out here, sweetheart. And I'll be gone ten minutes, tops. Just going to check a trap.❞

You are hungry, your stomach growls on cue. He grabs a crossbow and a quiver full of handmade arrows and after pausing at his bed to tuck blankets cloaked in the essence of him around your curvy little body tightly, he's gone.

Then the fever takes over again for a little while and you doze off, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep...

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #🔞ɴғᴡ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪsᴋ.#( ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ʟɪsᴛ ✓ )#lazyghoulskinktober2023 #( ᴍɪɴɪ sᴇʀɪᴇs ; ᴘᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ᴛᴡᴏ )

30 notes · View notes

violetduchess · 11 months

Text

A rose by any other name:

Synopsis: Imlied poly, Angst

TW: uhhh flowers in your lungs?

Notes: 😉

[------------------❀•°❀°•❀ ------------------]

The quiet and tranquil halls of the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters were disrupted by the sound of coughing echoing through the corridors. You, a skilled and determined Demon Slayer, had been afflicted with the dreaded Hanahaki Disease. Unbeknownst to the five pillars of the Demon Slayer Corps who had captured your heart, you concealed their condition, choosing to suffer in silence rather than burden your loved ones.

Rengoku, the Flame Hashira, had always been perceptive, and his keen senses detected something amiss in your actions. He noticed the subtle changes in your demeanor, the slight coughs that you've tried to suppress. Concerned, he approached you one evening, his eyes filled with worry. "Is something troubling you, dear? You can trust me. We're comrades, after all," he said, his voice filled with warmth and kindness.

Torn between your desire to confide in Rengoku and the fear of hurting him, you hesitated. "It's nothing to worry about, Rengoku-san," you replied with a small smile, your heart aching with each word. "I'll be fine."

Giyuu, the Water Hashira, observed you from a distance, his gaze reflecting the concern etched deep within his eyes. He noticed your weakening health and the faint, soft petals that slipped from you lips. Unable to bear the weight of his worry any longer, he approached you one evening, his voice laced with both gentleness and determination.

"I know something is wrong. Please, confide in me. I promise I'll do everything in my power to help you," Giyuu implored, his hand reaching out to grasp your's gently.

Your heart tightened with the weight of your unspoken feelings. You looked away, unable to meet Giyuu's gaze, and replied, "I appreciate your concern, Giyuu-san, but there's no need to worry. It'll pass."

Obanai, the Serpent Hashira, had always possessed a sharp intuition. His observant eyes caught the signs of your deteriorating health, the petals staining your lips and the traces of sadness clouding your eyes. Concerned for your well-being, he confronted you one evening, his voice soft yet firm.

"I can see that something is bothering you. Don't you trust me enough to share your pain?" Obanai asked, his expression vulnerable despite his usual aloof demeanor.

Your heart clenched at Obanai's words, knowing that you were close to revealing your secret. You swallowed hard, your voice wavering as you replied, "I... I can handle this on my own, Obanai-san. Please, don't worry."

Uzui, the Sound Hashira, possessed a keen sense of hearing, attuned to the slightest changes in the world around him. Late at night, when the moon bathed the headquarters in its gentle glow, he overheard your muffled coughs and the soft whispers of petals falling to the ground. Filled with a mixture of curiosity and concern, he approached you with a confident yet compassionate smile.

"Darlin', I can hear the pain in your every breath. Please, let me be there for you. Tell me who hurt you, and I'll make sure they pay," Uzui offered, his eyes filled with determination and empathy.

Your heart ached with the longing to confess your true feelings, but the fear of the consequences held them back. You couldn't bear the thought of burdening Uzui with the knowledge that it was he himself who held your heart captive. With a forced smile, you shook your head, attempting to brush off Uzui's concerns.

"It's not worth your attention, Uzui-san," You replied, your voice tinged with sadness. "I'll find a way to handle it on my own. Thank you for your concern."

Sanemi, the Wind Hashira, was known for his gruff exterior and his straightforward nature. However, beneath his tough facade, he held a sense of protectiveness for those he cared about. As he observed your declining health and the increasing number of petals that stained your palms, his concern grew insurmountable. One day, he confronted you, his voice rough yet laced with genuine worry.

"Damn it, don't you see that you're falling apart?" Sanemi's voice cracked, his usually sharp gaze softened with concern. "Tell me who did this to you. I'll make sure they pay for it."

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and longing threatening to overflow. You couldn't bear the thought of causing Sanemi any pain by revealing your true feelings. With a heavy sigh, you turned away, your voice filled with hidden anguish.

"I appreciate your concern, Sanemi-san, but this burden is mine to bear. Please, let it be."

◇_____________◇

As days turned into weeks and the petals continued to fall, your condition worsened. Your secret weighed heavily upon them, threatening to consume their very being. The pillars of the Demon Slayer Corps couldn't ignore the truth any longer; they saw through the walls you had carefully constructed.

One fateful night, when the moon hung high in the sky, Rengoku, Giyuu, Obanai, Uzui, and Sanemi gathered around you, their expressions a mixture of concern and determination. They refused to let you suffer alone any longer.

"We know, love," Rengoku's voice held a gentle conviction. "We can see the pain you're hiding. We won't force you to tell us who it is, but we want you to know that we're here for you, no matter what."

Your eyes widened, tears pooling within them. You never expected their secrets to be uncovered, and the overwhelming mix of emotions threatened to drown them. Slowly, you nodded, unable to speak through the lump in your throat.

With your secret laid bare, you found solace in the embrace of your pillar comrades. Rengoku, Giyuu, Obanai, Uzui, and Sanemi became your pillars of support, offering comfort, understanding, and unwavering loyalty. They remained by your side through the highs and lows of your battle against both the demons and the affliction within their own heart.

Though the identity of the one who held your heart remained unspoken, the pillars' actions spoke volumes. With each passing day, their unwavering dedication and support became a beacon of hope for you, slowly mending the fragments of their broken heart.

In the face of their shared trials, the bonds between you and the five pillars grew stronger, transcending unspoken words. Together, they faced the demons that threatened their world, while silently, within the depths of their hearts, a love that couldn't be uttered blossomed amidst the petals of sacrifice.

#rengoku x reader #rengoku headcanons #demon slayer rengoku #sanemi x reader #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #giyuu x reader #giyuu headcanons #obanai x reader #kny obanai #uzui x reader #kimetsu no yaiba uzui

141 notes · View notes

inaris-mage-of-storms · 1 year

Text

So. That tea party episode, huh?

The idea of Jimmy being three sheets to the wind amused me, and he did spend a fair amount of the party in close vicinity to Scott. So I decided to write something and make it a little silly and see where it would go, because I can. :D

Read on AO3

(Content warning for alcohol use and flirty/suggestive conversation.)

Even in the crowded entryway of Katherine's castle, with everyone chatting loudly and bumping up against one another in the confined space, Jimmy didn't miss the way Scott's eyes sought him out immediately. The king of Chromia greeted their hosts cordially as he entered, but his full attention was on the sheriff.

Said sheriff, for his part, suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious and plain in his simple ruffled top and denim skirt. Scott on the other hand practically shimmered as he walked, the satin sheen of his outfit catching the light of the lanterns and the eyes of the people around him. He made a beeline for Jimmy, the corner of his lips already quirking upward with what Jimmy was sure was some witty comment or other that would have him blushing in an instant. But before they could say anything to one another, the group was being herded into the dining room and into their seats.

Scott sat next to Jimmy, and when everyone was settled he leaned in close. "This is a cute look," he said, fingers touching the hem of the off-the-shoulder sleeves.

"Thanks," said Jimmy, hoping his voice didn't waver. "You look rather nice yourself."

Scott smiled, then danced his fingertips over Jimmy's bare shoulders. "You have freckles on your shoulders," he commented, looking at the little flecks that decorated Jimmy's skin. "I didn't know that."

Jimmy was glad he'd opted to wear a vest as well, because without the extra fabric then surely the pounding of his heart surely would have been visible beneath his skin. "Got them lots of places," he said without thinking.

Scott's eyes gleamed, and he leaned even closer. Jimmy shivered at the warm breath against the shell of his ear. "Is that so?" purred Scott. "Maybe I can go on a little scavenger hunt later." His hand reached for Jimmy's thigh. Jimmy reached for his first mojito.

Seven drinks later, Jimmy's head was starting to go from pleasantly fuzzy to disconcertingly spinning. Scott looked amused, and Jimmy wondered if he'd missed a joke while contemplating the way the ceiling undulated when he tilted his head back.

"Wha's so funny?" he demanded, and Scott's grin widened. Jimmy looked at the slivers of exposed midriff along the top of Scott's skirt and wondered if he was ticklish.

"I think you've had enough of those," said Scott, moving the glass away when Jimmy reached for his eighth drink. He wasn't entirely certain it was his eighth drink. Keeping count suddenly hadn't seemed so important somewhere between drinks four and five. He wasn't entirely certain it was even his drink that he'd reached for.

"Aw, Scott," he whined, giving Scott his best wide-eyed pleading look.

"Drink some water," was all Scott said, and Jimmy pouted at him.

The dining chair was far less comfortable than it had been earlier in the evening, and Scott's lap looked far more inviting. Jimmy got to his feet unsteadily, but all of a sudden the tea party was turning into a round of hide-and-seek and everyone but the two princesses were scattering around the castle. Scott smirked at Jimmy and disappeared around a corner. Jimmy promptly forgot he wasn't "it" and started searching for the stunningly beautiful but eternally elusive man that was clearly intent on leading him on a chase.

He caught sight of Scott before losing him again, over and over. One moment Scott was across a room, the next he was whispering something in Jimmy's ear, the next he was gone, and the dance repeated all over again. Lips burned against his ear and a hand burned against his waist, and Jimmy felt like he was going delightfully insane with every brief point of contact.

Hide-and-seek was over judging by the crowd around him. Jimmy couldn't remember if he'd been found or not, but it didn't matter. The night air felt great on his flushed face. Scott was on the staircase and frowning at...something. "What did you do?" he was asking Katherine, not unkindly, but with definite concern.

Jimmy frowned too, reaching over and cupping Scott's face in his hands. "Too pretty to be sad," he declared. "Stop it."

Scott laughed. Something gold glimmered in his hand.

There were items in Jimmy's inventory that weren't his. Lizzie was scolding him for some reason. He made a face and spun around on the heel of his boot slowly. "Oh hi Fwhip," he said cheerily to the scarlet-clad figure a step or two above him, and tugged at a green ear. "You look like a poinsettia." Fwhip laughed and put his hands on Jimmy's shoulders to steady him. Jimmy grinned. Fwhip had a nice laugh.

Scott was talking. Jimmy zeroed in on him, trying to parse what he was saying. "Whoever has the crown gets to make a rule, right?"

"Only if it's on your head, and it's not on your - " Jimmy made a face. Joel was talking. He liked Joel, but he wanted Scott to talk more instead. His voice was prettier.

Scott caught Jimmy's eye. He grinned, winked, and put the jeweled crown firmly on his head, cutting off Joel's protests. Jimmy giggled. "All hail the king, all hail the king!" he chanted, joining in with the others. Someone slapped him on the back, and he stumbled forward. Scott caught him in his arms and laughed, and Jimmy beamed. Scott should always be laughing. It was even nicer than Fwhip's.

Pix returned from wherever he'd gone, and everyone crowded around him to ask questions. "You're like the ghost of Christmas... something," declared Jimmy, waving a hand through Pix's incorporeal arm. Pix was a Christmas ghost and Fwhip was dressed like a poinsettia. Jimmy wondered if someone had mistletoe, and if he could get Scott to stand under it.

Scott was standing behind him, though, and that was all right too so long as he kept his arms around Jimmy's waist the way they were. Jimmy leaned against him and tilted his head back, trying to find Scott's cheek to kiss it even though there wasn't any mistletoe.

"Hi," he said happily when he succeeded.

"Hi," said Scott, sounding amused. "My god, you are absolutely wasted."

The crowd around them was gone, and Jimmy hummed happily, finally able to start making some sense of his thoughts in the quiet. "You're wasted," he countered. "A very pretty waist. The one you have, I mean. It's nice."

Okay, maybe 'sense' was a little optimistic.

Making sense or not, Scott was clearly delighted by Jimmy's words given the way he laughed and laughed, and that was enough for Jimmy. Or almost enough. "I want a kiss," he demanded. "You've been teasing me all evening, and I haven't gotten a single kiss."

"Me, teasing you?" said Scott innocently. "Are you sure about that?" He laughed again when Jimmy pouted at him, and gave him a kiss. "Better?"

"Much better," confirmed Jimmy. "Also my head hurts."

"I bet it does," said Scott. "Come on, let's get you home, and I'll kiss it all better."

Jimmy liked the sound of that. "And cuddles?" he asked hopefully.

Scott laughed. "Yes, and cuddles," he said. "You're going to be absolutely miserable in the morning, you know."

"No I won't," said Jimmy confidently. "I'll be with you. Can't be miserable if I'm with you." Scott didn't laugh, just looked surprised, but it melted into an adoring look and a soft smile before Jimmy could be too concerned.

Jimmy didn't remember how they got to Chromia safely. He was fairly certain he didn't remember most of the night in general. And Scott was right, he was absolutely miserable in the morning, but between the splitting ache of his head and the roiling revolt of his stomach there was a gentle hand in his hair and soothing words in his ear.

Jimmy rubbed a hand over his eyes and leaned into Scott's chest. "Sorry," he croaked out. "Gosh, I'm a mess. You must think I'm awful."

Scott chuckled and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "It's fine," he said. "But you owe me."

Jimmy grimaced. "Fair enough. What do I owe you?"

Scott's eyes twinkled with mischief, and he danced his fingertips over Jimmy's bare shoulder. "Oh, not much," he said. "Just a scavenger hunt."

#empiresshipping #flower husbands #empires smp #file: storm writes things #alcohol cw

112 notes · View notes