#but I can’t help but read this as a ‘will i ever see him again???’ moment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

livelaughlovesubs · 2 days

Note

Just some brainrot scraps for Fyodor ღゝ◡╹ )ノ♡ (idk if this is cnc or not so I’ll just say it here just in case)

Imagine corrupting angelic Fyodor. Even though he’s an angel, your guardian angel at that, he’s quite stuck up since he thinks that he’s better than a human sinner like you . From the parties to the one night stands you have he swears that you’re driving him insane! One day he had enough of your antics and decided to disguise himself as a normal human and attended another one of the parties you were invited (this was the eighth party this month alone for fuck’s sake!) He swears that he’ll make you see the light of god and make you change your ways tonight, that’s until he finds himself in bed with you as you plow yourself deep into his ass. He tries whining out how this was dirty and how you shouldn’t have sex before marriage but the feeling of being manhandled in such a way made all his words that came out of his mouth unintelligible. His mind attempts to fight back and keeping himself pure but the pleasure was too overwhelming. By the time he had his third orgasm of the night, he mind was so clouded by lust that he completely forgot about his duties as an angel, his wings turning a dark grey as he falls further from god. In the morning you find yourself trapped in bed with a sweaty, clingy and needy fallen angel, his wings completely tainted black as he wraps himself tighter around you. Maybe it was worth it for some of your dick <33

(I feel a bit rusty when it come to writing so hopefully it isn’t too bad kuhuhuhu (┳Д┳))

- 🍮

Nuuu it’s alright haha. I just love your ideas 🍮 anon, and I love angels. Honestly, when you first proposed incubus fyodor I thought: why not angel? Cuz it kinda fit better BUT FYODOR AS A TOTALL SLUT IS ALSO GREAT KEKEKE

Dom!reader x sub!Angel!Fyodor

Warning: heavy on hierophilia, pegging (can be read as a dick), virgin fyodor, hair pulling, overstimulation, sub-space, dubcon, corruption kink, manhandling, no prep, save word (not used), dacryphilia, objectification, degrading, forced orgasm

Edit: I got carried away

He really wanted to do his job well, seriously. Being a good angel who carry out his lords orders with diligence, never lazing around and protecting you with all his might. But it’s so difficult to like you, to like someone who’s depraved of god’s blessing like this. It must be god’s trial for him, otherwise he can’t explain why someone as great as him got paired up with you. You are basically the incarnation of sin itself! It’s one thing not to stay pure, but to indulge in pleasure every week, multiple times? That’s beyond acceptable!

How despicable your actions were, they were totally against the will of the lord. Were it even possible for someone to be lead astray from the right path so much? Partying so much, drinking, playing and doing satans work… There is no way the pleasure of the flesh would be worth that. Fyodor really couldn’t understand your ways, not like he ever tried to anyway. Instead, since this was a trial given by him by god himself, he planned on giving it his all. To get you to change your vulgar behaviour, he’ll need you to find it repulsive too. Maybe if he criticised and embarrassed you during one of your outings, you’ll be too scared to attend another one? That would be worth a try, no?

With that being said, the angel hid his beautiful pure white wings and descended upon the human realm just for you, to help you see the light and powers of god. Of course he wore clothes that didn’t show any skin, as well as hanging a cross around his neck to display his faith. Today you were going to a bar once again, who would have guessed. Fyodor was at the bar counter, looking for you all over this dirty establishment. At the same time he observed the other humans who were present. Dancing, alcohol, drugs and lust. This place was beyond saving, the people as well. He hoped he wouldn’t need to enter this place ever again.

Finally, after a long wait, he found you. Dressed in revealing clothes, smirking from ear to ear. Even if you were under the spell of the devil, fyodor had to admit that you were pretty good looking. He immediately made his way over to you, smiling, to appear friendly. It surprised you a little, that someone was heading your way without beating around the bush. The angel who was now in front of you said, “I have something to say to you, can we go to somewhere more private?” Stunned but intrigued, you agreed to his request. He looked cute after all, you wondered what he was hiding under these layers of clothing, perhaps some dirty secrets?

He really didn’t plan for this to happen, seriously. All he wanted was to talk to you, and maybe pressure or manipulate you a little. Though you seemed amused by the whole situation? Why even? Then you proposed for the two of you to go to a hotel to have an even more private talk. At first he was sceptical, but then he thought it might be your way to initiate your wish for a better environment, because you noticed how the club is a filthy place. Of course the boy obliged, yet as soon as he stepped into the room, you pushed him and pinned him to the bed.

“Wa-what..!?” He sounded shocked, absolutely confused even. His face was pressed into the pillow by your hand which was on the back of his head, your other hand appears to be on his waist. “Oh cutie, no need to play naive now, there is a reason why you came up to me no?” You’d tease while getting rid of his pants, admiring his awfully slim waist. My my, he was hiding some treasures underneath his sweater after all.

Yes, he came up to you for a reason, but not for this reason!

“No! This is dirty- you.. we shouldn’t… just let me go- ahhhH?!” Fyodor tried to reason with you, until he noticed how his shirt got yanked off. In less than a minute he was butt naked already, how shameful this was. His body wasn’t something for your eyes to see, heck, no one but god should be allowed to see him like this! Unless you two were married, that is, but it was clearly not the case here. Tears were collecting in the corners of his eyes as he gazed back at you, seeing you all prepared and ready for the deed. Your dick was already covered in lube as you lined it up against his sweet little hole, rubbing it between his asscheeks to let him have a pretty good guess on how big the thing was. Oh and how he shivered, shaking as fear and.. something hot filled his senses.

Before he got to say no a second time, you already shoved the tip in, causing him to throw his head back and grip the sheets like his life depended on it. “AaAAAhHHh..!! It hu-hurts..!” He could have spread his wings and shoved you away, though due to some unknown reasons, he didn’t. Staying put like a good and obedient birdy, hiding his face in the pillow as you slowly bottomed out inside him. “MhmMN..! Ooh! To-too deep..<3!” Fyodor would whine and complain about your size, this was his first time after all! You didn’t even prepare him… did you think he was some common, cheap and loose prostitute?

“Fuck, you are damn tight huh, you doing alright over there?” You leaned down and yanked on his hair, causing him to arch his back further. Then you groaned that into his ear, watching him quiver in response. “Uhm-aaHHhnnGhm! I- mHMm!” Poor boy can’t even form a single cohered sentence at this point, too preoccupied with the feeling of your cock inside him. How it stretched him apart, as well as how his walls pulsed and clenched around it. Oh lord.. this was too much for his innocent body to comprehend. “Haaah.. say red if it gets too much, alright? Otherwise I’ll start moving.” You warned him after he didn’t give you an answer. “Ah-no- wait, unngHh!” The moment you started moving, he started sobbing uncontrollably and praying to god. Was this really going to be how his chastity gets ruined? How he loses his innocence? By someone like you?

Dear lord, our father, please pardon him, for his pathetic, unholy and defiled form. He must look so perverted right now. Dick leaking precum everywhere as his bottom got pounded by you mercilessly. You whispered some impure words into his mouth as you did that, asking him if he’s enjoying it or demanding him to degrade himself. Each time he’d refuse and call this sinful, ungodly, and wrong as well as crying even louder. At one point the poor baby was holding onto the cross hanging around his neck with both hands, trying his best to clench onto the last bits of dignity he had as an angel.

It got increasingly harder with every trust, it made him see stars and caused his entire body to twitch like a sinner. Slowly, he could feel himself crumbling and succumb to the devil’s temptation. More pleads escaped his throat, though not even he knew for whom it was or what purpose it served. All he could think about was how sorry he was for failing his duties, and for loving every second he spend with you <3

After his third forced orgasm, the angel- if you can still call him that considering how fallen he was, got so overstimulated and fucked out of it that he completely lost himself to the bliss and ecstasy. Lust clouded and pestered his mind like some spell, it wouldn’t leave him alone. You just felt so damn good, and he adored how your length spread his insides every time you shoved it deep inside him. His own shameful body fluids were spread around the bed, dripping down his thighs, causing the entire scene to look even more erotic. Not to mention the sounds he made….

Since you’ve been fucking him for so long, even you were out of breath. But him? Oh no, he couldn’t stop. He was addicted, hypnotised, whatever you’d like to call it. This is his first time experiencing such sensations in eons, he wasn’t going to be satisfied with only three orgasms. His very first three ejaculations to be exact. You want to stop? Heck no, he’s was going to keep doing this until he exhales his last breath! He was ready to become a whore for you, your very own slut that got banned from heaven.

So the black haired boy was riding you now, bouncing up and down your dick desperately as the cross flew around with how fast he was going at it. He was drooling and melting the entire time, not a single logical thing coming out of his mouth as he blabbered something about it being too good. About how he’s sorry for getting corrupted. The little angel didn’t know, but the more he indulged in these impure pleasures, the more he fell from grace, and the more his wings darkened. The only hint he got from his deity was when the chain of his necklace broke, and his cross hit the floor. It broke into six pieces, yet he didn’t even notice. Oh what a degenerate being he has become. He was sullying gods name with his deeds..!!

At the end of it, not only him but you too were totally exhausted, so much that you both fell asleep after washing up. On the next day, you noticed something soft yet foreign hit your face. It couldn’t have been his hair, since it felt differently. When you opened your eyes, you almost jumped due to the surprise. These were wings, and gigantic ones at that. Huge, raven black wings covered the entire mattress, and it came from the back of your planned one night stand partner. Was this some cosplay? He didn’t wear this yesterday, or did he but you were drunk and didn’t notice? Nonetheless, he didn’t let you leave the bed, instead he held onto you as if his life depended on it.

When he woke up, he had heart-shaped pupils as he stared at you with such a strong want and need in his eyes. Cheeks already flushed pink even though you haven’t done anything yet. He wanted to keep going were you two left off yesterday, despite his body protesting because he was so sore. His insides have been rearranged by you after all, and if he weren’t a holy being before, he was sure his pelvis would be broken by now. You took a while to believe him, as well as understand the situation. Afterwards, you took him in, since it was your responsibility. Besides, now your guardian angel was a horny little bitch bird who is in heat 24/7, waiting to get taken by you. Maybe it will be quite fun?

Now, you made him like this. You made him dependent on the feeling of being filled to be brim and stuffed like an object. Well, at last, his actions were not in vain. You stopped going to parties and random hook ups, since you got a personal fuck toy right in the comfort of your home now <3

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hisonlykiwi · 3 days

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"With that kind of power at your disposal, the possibilities are endless." part two

synopsis: azriel, who's never bothered to acknowledge your existence seeks you out for help.

wc: 1.9k

warnings: none

a/n: hey guys, here's part two! let me know what you think, i would love your feedback

taglist <3: @blackgirlmagicforever, @tele86, @lilah-asteria, @kylaisra, @deeshag

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part one

Previously: “I need your help.” I pause and look back at him, a pleading look on his face. “Why? You’ve never spoken to me, let alone acknowledged my existence. Then you barge in here, provoking me and suddenly you want my help? I have to laugh.” I pull my wrist away, but he grips tighter, “Please.” He says, and I tug my wrist away again, but he doesn’t budge.

“Let. Me. Go.” I say, unable to withhold my anger. I blink and suddenly, I’m standing in the middle of the woods with Azriel still holding my wrist. He fucking winnowed us to the middle of nowhere. “Azriel, what the fuck are you doing?!” I give him a hard shove, but he doesn’t budge, of course, he doesn’t, he’s a 6’5 man made of pure muscle, ugh! He holds me close to his chest, “I have strong suspicions the inner circle is in grave danger and your abilities would be able to prove if I’m correct.” He quicky says, I stop moving, processing what he just said. He notices, slowly lets me go and moves away a bit but stays close. I peer up at him, confusion and concern laced in my features. “What do you mean, exactly?”

I furrow my eyebrows, still processing. Danger? How could they possibly be in danger? Is that why he brought us out to the middle of the woods, so no one would hear him. I hear Azriel take in a deep breath, “I think Elain is working with Hybern.”

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part two

Azriel's jaw clenched as he spoke the words, a mixture of anger and determination etched across his face. I raise my eyebrows at his words, “Does she now? And may I ask what brings you to that conclusion?”

The air around him crackled with tension and his eyes hardened. “She's been acting strange, different. Dropping hints and whispering in the shadows. There have been strange occurrences in the city as well, odd movements, disappearances, things that only someone with inside knowledge would know....”

I furrow my brows and cross my arms over my chest. “Which could mean nothing... Look, Azriel, she has been through a lot. Elain was kidnapped from her bed and thrown into the Cauldron where she was turned into something she feared, then the love of her life rejected her, and then she was captured by the Cauldron, by Hybern. And if my memory serves me correctly, you and Feyre were the ones who helped rescue her. Are you sure you’re not reading too much into this?” I finish, peering up to look at him, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air.

Azriel takes in another deep breath, his eyes ever leaving mine. “There are too many coincidences, and I can't ignore the signs anymore. I've been observing her behavior lately. She seems... different, distant, ever since I helped rescue her from Hybern’s war camp.” He pauses, his gaze darkening. “And, in my line of work... I trust my instincts. They're rarely wrong.” Azriel responds and I tear my gaze from him, this conversation becoming all too consuming.

I run my hands over my face. None of this makes sense, Elain? Sweet ol’ Elain… She isn’t capable of doing something like this. In my short time of knowing her, she doesn’t seem to have the abilities nor experience to fight for herself, much less work with someone as wicked as Hybern. But I can’t ignore what Azriel is telling me. There’s a reason he has sought me out, what would be the point of making such a heavy accusation if there wasn’t some deeper truth behind it? I meet his eyes once again, “So why seek me out? And not Rhysand? I’m not sure what you want me to do.”

Azriel lets out a frustrated breath, “We need someone who can enter minds, who can see if my suspicions are true. If Elain is indeed working with Hybern, we need to know the extent of her plans, and your power can give us that insight. I’m aware Rhysand has the ability to enter minds as well, but since he is mated with Feyre. I’m afraid she’ll be able to peer inside his thoughts, which could be catastrophic if she finds out what her sister is capable of.” His voice is firm yet filled with a hint of fear. I hate to admit it, but he makes a great point and what if he’s right? If Elain is helping Hybern, this is not going to end well. She’s been inside Velaris and knows the secrets and plans of the inner circle. Azriel interrupts my thoughts "I've thought about this a thousand times, and the conclusion I keep coming back to is that you're the only one who can get to her, get her to reveal the truth."

I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for an answer, this is Rhysand’s best friend, his brother, his family, I could trust him, I want to trust him. “If you’ve thought about this a thousand times, I’m going to go ahead and assume you have a plan?” I ask him. Azriel's gaze remains focused and determined. "Here's what we'll do," he says, his voice quiet. “The Winter Court is hosting a ball and they’ve invited all of the courts to attend, which is in 3 weeks’ time. The plan is simple. I’ll need to get close to Elain, to earn her trust. While I distract her, this will allow you to enter her mind without suspicion." He explains. “You'll remain hidden and silent, gathering any information you can find. The goal is not to alert her of your presence or intentions, otherwise she might catch on. We don't want her knowing we're onto her just yet." He finishes. Well, he wasn’t kidding when he said he’s thought this over a thousand times, the plan seems solid and doable. “Okay, I’ll help you... under one condition.” I give him a small smile.

Azriel's eyes flicker with curiosity at my proposition and he nods. "Alright, what's your condition?" I pause, “You can, under no circumstance, let anyone know about my powers. You said it yourself; I could change the course of history itself if anyone were to find out of what I’m capable of. Promise me you won’t tell anyone.” Azriel’s looks at me, his golden eyes glinting with intensity. “I promise,” he said, his voice firm and resolute. “Your secret is safe with me.” He held out his pinky, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

I look at his pinky being held out in front me, amusement being shown in my features., I let out a small chuckle and hooked my pinky with his, “Looks like you have yourself a partner. But really? A pinky promise?” I laugh softly. Azriel's lips curved into a small smile, "Hey, a pinky promise is sacred," he replies, his tone teasingly defensive. "Besides, it's a time-honored tradition among the fae and... let's be honest, it's more fun than a regular promise." I burst out into a fit of giggles and nod along. “A pinky promise it is.” Which causes his small smile to turn into a full blown out grin.

I felt a pang in my chest, similar to one I felt earlier as I looked at his, oh so beautiful smile. “Since we're going to be partners and all, I have a proposition you cannot refuse” I say letting go of his pinky so I can dig in my bag and fetch the report I was working on earlier. “You have to help me with this, Rhysand has me working on it. Which I was doing before I was rudely interrupted.” I jokingly say, handing him the report.

Azriel takes the report and quirks an eyebrow. He glances down at the report, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. "You were rudely interrupted, were you?" He teases, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "I suppose, as your partner, it's only right that I help with your little report." He says. I give him a big grin, “Why thank you partner, you’re too kind.” I take the report from his hands and put it back in my bag, “Now will you please winnow us back home, the woods creep me out.”

Azriel gives a dramatic sigh and rolls his eyes in playful annoyance. "I guess I can do that," he says with a wry smile, holding out a hand. "But only because you asked so kindly." He stepped forward and I put my hand in his outstretched palm. And just like last time, in the blink of an eye, we’re standing in front of the town house. “Thank you, partner.” I say, peering up at him. I felt Azriel give my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go, a small hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Anytime, partner.” He responded.

Where are you? Rhysand’s voice rang in my head. I’m out front of the town house, am I needed? I mentally replied back to him. Yes. There’s been another attack, come to my office as soon as you can. Rhysand said. On my way.

“Everything okay?” Azriel asks and I let out a frustrated sigh, “No. Rhysand, just notified me there’s been another attack. I have to go meet with him. I’ll catch you later, yeah?” I watched as Azriel's expression fell, "Another attack?" He repeats, a mix of anger and frustration seeping into his tone. "Damn it." He grits his teeth. "Where was the attack this time?" He demands, his eyes flickering. “He didn’t give me any specifics. I’ll let you know what he tells me.” Azriel gives me an understanding small nod, "I'll keep an ear out for any more news. If you need anything, just let it know." He says, pointing to my shoulder. A moment later, he is wrapped in shadows and vanishes. I looked over at my shoulder that he pointed at, and to my surprise, there was a small shadow. Just like the one that was around my ankle earlier. “Oh, hi there.” I whisper to the black smoke hovering on my shoulder. It slowly comes near my cheek, a cool, airy feeling against it. It almost felt like it was caressing my cheek. I smile at the sensation, “Well, aren’t you cute?” I try to touch it and the small shadow wraps around my hand. I giggle softly, the feeling a little ticklish.

I admire the small, playful shadow before my mind slips back to the short conversation I had with Rhysand moments ago. I let out a sigh and made my way towards Rhysand’s office, the shadow following close behind me.

It hasn’t been a full week since the last attack and now there’s been another. The attacks are happening more consistently then how they were a couple weeks ago. How am I supposed to figure out the culprit’s motive? Their attacks are always unpredictable, there’s no pattern, no repeated habits or behavior. It’s so strange.

I bring my hand up to knock on the door of Rhysand’s office, but it opens before I even have a chance to actually knock. Hpmh, of course it would, it’s a magic house, I always forget. I make my way inside, “Alright, I’m here, what happe-” I freeze at the sight in front of me. “Elain?”

#acotar #azriel #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #rhysand #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar series #elain archeron #elain acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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darnell-la · 1 day

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dom mean billy x dom gentle sweet eddie x sub reader punishment smut.

at one point eddie is hesitant telling billy not be mad. Lots of praise degradation. Maybe at one point reader head is resting on eddies lap and he’s cooing her wiping her tears telling her ‘it’s okay, be a good girl for billy’

word count: 3.6k

warning: slight cnc (reader allows any and everything to happen), slapping, heavy choking, heavy cussing, face grabbing, hair pulling, begging, orgasms, creampie, face fucking, rough sex, etc.

note: in this story, Billy is a mean partner, but not as mean as we could’ve written him. don’t worry, he’ll be sweet by the end of his mission. the reader is also a bit toxic and confusing. DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT LIKE CNC RELATED WRITING.

WE DO NOT ALLOW COPIES OF OUR STORIES!

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3rd person pov

Y/n is currently at a party her “partners” told her not to go to. She loves the two long-haired men, but toxicity is what started the relationship and they’ve only been talking for a few weeks, maybe a couple of months.

Being in a toxic relationship is not exactly what y/n planned. Especially with two people, but something happened, and she went along with it.

Now she’s at a party she knows she’s not supposed to be at, but she can’t help it. She likes seeing them upset, knowing if they were to ever make her upset, her heart would crumble, because why don’t they care about her feelings?

“Didn’t think I’d see you tonight,” a familiar voice said behind y/n, making her turn around with a smile on her face. “Well surprise,” she smiled with her pretty teeth.

“Where are you, you know, guard dogs,” Jason said, not knowing what they are to her and what he should call them, but he has an idea of what they claim her as.

“Don’t know, and don’t care,” she said then took a sip from her drink. “Hm — So you’re here alone tonight? What a bummer,” Jason took a look at her lips, watching how glazed they got from the alcohol she had just drank.

“Yeah, such a bummer,” she sarcastically rolled her eyes before laughing with him. The only time y/n and Jason talk is at parties. Flirting it teaming up drinking games is all that they’ve done, but Billy and Eddie are convinced they’ll do more if they hang out too much.

Billy and Eddie had just walked through the doors of the party they didn’t want to go to for obvious reasons, but they were forced after they came to their girlfriend’s dorm and realized she was gone.

They knew exactly where she had gone, and Billy quickly imagined the things she could’ve been doing alone, and if he saw anything he didn’t like, he warned Eddie he wasn’t going to leave there without y/n knowing to never go back again.

Eddie on the other hand is pissed too, probably just as much as Billy, but one of them has to be more calm about it, otherwise this night really wouldn’t go well for y/n.

“Split up and look for her. I hate this big rich prick house,” Billy said before walking off and going straight to the kitchen, knowing she usually drinks when she comes to parties.

Eddie took a breath before looking around patiently. It didn’t take long for him to see her laughing and giggling with Jason Carver.

“Goddamnit,” Eddie cussed as he made his way over to him. He’s pissed because he knew she’d end up talking to him and he specifically told her not to, and he knows for a fact of Billy sees this, he’ll flip shit.

“Y/n, let’s go,” Eddie wrapped his large hand around Y/n’s wrist and tugged. She moved a few inches until Jason came around and pushed Eddie off of him.

“Hey!” Y/n said, not liking the at Jason always gets physical with him. “Relax, sweetheart. Don’t touch her like that you freak,” Jason said, making Eddie chuckle at the old name.

“You don’t mean shit to me anymore, Carver, so I advise you to leave me and especially my girlfriend alone,” Eddie said, making people look our way. People have never heard it until now. He’s finally confirmed it.

“What? I’m not your girlfriend?” Y/n said, boiling Eddie’s blood already. How could she say that in front of all these people? In front of Jason.

“Y/n, don’t fuck with me right now. Let’s go,” he motioned for her to come with him, but she didn’t move. “Thinks she wants to stay with us, don’t you sweetheart?” Jason asked as he backed up and snaked his hands around Y/n’s waist.

“I-I have to go, Jason. Thank you for the drinks,” Y/n pulled away from Jason slowly with a slight smile. “Ah, c’mon, baby. Just stay,” Jason softly grabbed her hand, but she knew Jason.

He could either want her to stay to make Eddie jealous, to make Billy jealous, to get Chrissy jealous, or to get in Y/n’s pants, but she knows he wouldn’t actually want to be with her. Yeah, she’s sweet, but he’s still too worried about his reputation.

“I gotta go,” she said as she slowly pulled away then turned around and walked towards Eddie. Eddie quickly gripped y/n’s upper arm in anger. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought,” he said as he pulled y/n through the huge house to find a bathroom or the stairs.

“Let’s just go,” Y/n said, not wanting to be here anymore since the fun is over. “Oh, you’re not gonna get out of this shit that easy,” Eddie pulled y/n up the stairs, not caring if she was tripping.

“Eds, we can’t just walk through people’s houses like this,” she said as he checked every room, looking for a specific room for them both.

“You think I give a fuck about this dipshits house!? God, you’re so fuckin’ slow,” Eddie said as he finally found Jason's room. It’s never hard to tell what’s his and what isn’t.

“Eddie, this is Jason’s room!” Y/n said as she was pushed into the room. “And how do you know that?” Eddie asked, looking through her soul after he closed the door. Y/n stayed silent, not wanting to piss him off even more tonight.

“On the bed,” Eddie demanded, and for some reason, she went as quickly as possible. She didn’t see it, but Eddie smirked with a chuckle, knowing she’d always be submissive.

“Good girl. Maybe I will take it easy,” Eddie said as he took his jacket off, looking at his beautiful but bratty girl. “Just wished you’d stay that way for me, but you’re full of so many fucking surprised,” Eddie said with a forced smile.

“I-I’m sorry,” y/n spoke, making Eddie feel bad already. “Fuck,” Eddie said under his breath as he turned around and covered his face. He tried being upset and angry with her, but she’s just too sweet.

“I really am, Eds. I’m sorry I embarrassed you downstairs. I-I won’t do it again,” y/n stayed still on the bed, seeing Eddie’s body movement. She doesn’t know if he’s going to explode or forgive her.

“You can’t just walk around in the public and act free. This is why we don’t want you out. If Billy saw you before I did, you wouldn’t be in this position right now. Especially after you let that shithead call you sweetheart and baby in front of my face. Those are my words for you. No one else,” Eddie said now in front of y/n.

“You need to think more, baby,” Eddie softly grabbed y/n’s cheek. “I-I’m sorry,” she said again causing him to nod his head. “I know you are, but you can’t always get let off. I-I don’t want to hurt you or force you but you can’t just- You can’t do this shit and get away with it,” Eddie said.

“And I’m not breaking up with you, so the only option is you change or punish you until you learn, but I can’t always do that. Billy will,” he said as y/n moved off of the bed slowly.

“I’m sorry,” she said for the third time as she slowly went to her knees. “I know,” Eddie rubbed her cheek as she slowly tugged on his belt and jeans until she pulled him out.

Y/n wasted no time to take him in her mouth. “Augh,” he groaned as he threw his head back and pushed y/n further into him as he bucked his hips. He’s always so easy to pleasure.

“You’re just so good to me,” Eddie said with his eyes shut tight, feeling her tongue wrap around his tip every time she sucks up and then goes back down until she couldn’t take any more of him.

“So fuckin’ good,” he said. Y/n looked up at him, seeing his head still laid back and his mouth parted. She knew she had him right where she liked him. It always makes her think, should she let this relationship happen? Should she finally commit?

Eddie groaned at the speed change and her touch around his hips, moving him at a paste she wanted. Her gags were heard more and the head became sloppy, just how Eddie liked it.

She knew he was enjoying it by the way he moaned and his hips bucked. He was already twitching in her mouth.

“Just like that,” Eddie rubbed his face with both of his hands again, not believing he kept letting this happen. He hates complaining about it though because he loves it. He loves the way she sucks him up with those eyes he’s not even looking at right now. That’s how good she treats him.

“Got me close. Fuck,” Eddie said, finally looking down at her, watching his cock move in and out of her thick and soft lips. “Never lettin’ you go,” Eddie said as y/n hummed on his cock.

“Shit,” Eddie bucked, not wanting to cum yet but couldn’t hold back. Y/n sucked a bit harder, focusing more on the tip to suck him dry. She always wants it all in her mouth. No leftovers.

“Are you fucking serious!? You’re tooo her upstairs so she can suck your cock? She fuckin’ disobeyed us and you couldn’t at least fuck her face!? You just let her suck you on her own paste!?” Billy’s angry voice came through the door until he was standing next to the both of them.

“Dude, relax. Not everything has to be rough,” Eddie said as he softly pulled y/n to her feet. “Well, that depends on what she did. Did you fuck anyone tonight?” Billy asked, getting straight to it.

“No, what the fuck!?” Y/n said, upset that he always thinks she’ll open her legs for people. “Oh sure you fuckin’ didn’t,” Billy said with a chuckle. “Kiss? Dance?” He asked, hoping to get her on one of those, but what he didn’t know was that she was going to piss him off with something else.

“No Billy, but since you’re always in my business, I did talk, joke, and laugh with Jason,” y/n said with crossed arms. “Jason Carver?” Billy asked in a serious tone, not too loud and not too quiet.

“Yeah, and I had fun. So what I talked to him, that shouldn’t matter to you because we’re not officially!” Y/n yelled at him, making Eddie back up. He already knew she fucked up.

In a split second, Billy gripped y/n’s neck and forced her back on the bed until he was hovered over her kicking, slapping and yelling body.

“You’re gonna rub that shit in my face and think I won’t do shit about it!?” Billy yelled in her face as a little bit of spit splashed on her. “Get off,” y/n tried saying in a serious tone, but that didn’t work with him.

“You think ima get off, knowing you’d let any other dude her slip right into you pussy if the only thing they had to do was talk to you!?” Billy yelled the last few words, tightening his grip on her neck.

“At least they deserve it,” y/n said, not knowing what she was saying. Eddie knew she was just throwing words out there, but Billy? Billy couldn’t focus on that. He was truly angry.

“Oh, so now I don’t deserve you? All the days and nights I’ve fucked you and rocked your pretty little world, you wanna tell me I don’t deserve you?” Billy genuinely asked.

“Oh oh, but Jason does? Jason fuckin’ Carver does!?” Billy asked before laughing to himself. “You know what’s fucking sad, y/n? Do you!?” Billy waited for an answer. “What?” She plainly asked, trying to act like his grip was getting to her.

“If I were to go to any bitch here, you’d be upset. If I simply looked at Carol, Heather, or anyone else, you’d cry. You’d cry like a pathetic little bitch, but it’s okay for you to go after people we specifically don’t like? That’s sad,” Billy said.

Billy never knew what he wanted from y/n. Before he put her in her place, he always hoped for an answer to why she did this, but at the same time, he didn’t care, because whether she liked it or not, she belonged to him.

“Whatever,” a tear rolled down y/n’s cheek at the scenarios he gave. Eddie knows she’s sensitive when they mention their being with other women but Billy keeps talking about it.

Even though he’s not saying he’s going to do it and he’s just telling her how ignorant and selfish she gets, Eddie still finds it harsh.

“C’mon man, let’s just relax and let this one go. She’s already crying,” Eddie said. “Only if she promises to be right. Just be right, and we can be happy. It’s not that hard!” Billy said, but y/n’s always been stuck up.

She wants to be official, she’s always wanted to, but she’s afraid at times. She could say yes and have no regrets later, but because Billy’s threatening her, she refuses.

She’s always trying to out-dominate Billy, but that’s impossible. There��s no way she’s getting out of this situation untouched and unfucked.

“Get off of me. I’m going home,” Y/n said, moving her body to get off of the bed, but that triggered him. He’s had enough for tonight. “Goddamnit,” Eddie sighed with his head thrown back, knowing she fucked the night up for herself.

Billy harshly pulled y/n’s dress up before ripping her lace panties clean off of her. “Hey! I said I’m going home!” Y/n shouted, slapping at his arms, but that never pleased him.

Billy continued until he pulled himself out of his jeans. “Let’s see how demanding you are with a cock up your cunt,” Billy said before slipping into y/n so easily that it hurt at how deep he got in the first thrust.

“God, Billy,” Eddie felt bad as he watched y/n’s words get caught in her mouth. “Gonna keep talkin’ to Carver after this, huh? Huh!?” Billy slammed his hips into y/n as she cried in pain but so much pleasure.

She’s always been the type to hide it, but by the time she couldn’t hold it anymore, she would be too fucked out to tell him how much she loves him or Eddie.

“I didn’t think so,” Billy used his free hand to grab y/n’s face and squeeze until she whined. “Keepin’ those moans in will fuck you over by the end of the night, so I suggest you open your fucking mouth now,” Billy growled.

“B-Billy,” y/n seemed so lost in words that she didn’t know what to say to him. She can’t act like she doesn’t like this. She’s always loved the way Billy treated her. She loves it rough.

“Go a little easy on her, man. She's falling apart,” Eddie said, feeling bad for her, but he couldn't ignore the rock in his pants. He never can.

“Oh, shit the hell up, Munson. Don’t act like you wouldn’t fuck her just like this if she wants so submissive to you,” Billy grew angry at Eddie for always telling him to relax or take it easy.

“No, you wouldn’t take it easy. No one would. No one would take it easy on a slur like you,” Billy leaned forward to get a closer look at y/n who’s currently mind-fucked.

“No one soul. All they do is think about abusing your cunt like some fuck toy or some whore in the street. You need to be more grateful for us, baby. Needa understand that if it wasn’t for you, you’d be some worn-out slut for parties like these,” Billy said, stinging y/n but she loves it.

“You already whore for us. Open your legs so fuckin’ easy and cum in seconds. You really think I don’t notice how wet you are when I plunge into your cunt, y/n? I always fuckin’ notice. Always notice how easy you are for me,” Billy leaned down in the crook of y/n’s neck as he pushed deeper into her, making her scratch her shoulders and back.

“I’m gonna cum,” y/n said low and shrieky. “Ah uh, I didn’t say you can cum. You haven’t been a good girl. You don’t get to fuckin’ cum,” Billy said, thrusting a bit faster to be a dick as always.

“C-Can’t hold it,” she cried, tears streaming from her eyes. “You’re gonna fuckin’ hold it, y/n, because I tell you what. If you don’t, ima gonna fuck you so fuckin’ hard,” Billy moved both of his hands to connect to her neck, pulling her into his hard and harsh thrusts.

“She’s not gonna be able to hold it, Billy, just pull out or let her cum, man,” Eddie said as he got on the bed, seeing how he could comfort y/n in this situation but it’s hard to when she’s basically crying and grinding up against Billy.

“O-Off, off!” Y/n tried pushing Billy away, but he didn’t budge. Billy gave a few slaps to her face, telling her to stop fighting. “Take it, slut. Take my damn cock like the cock drunk whore you are,” Billy spat harsh words out as her body went stiff.

“Augh!” Y/n moaned loudly as her feet kicked the bed. “That’s it, keep cummin’ so I can punish you some more,” Billy whispered with an evil smile that Eddie saw plastered all over his face.

Eddie knew this wasn’t getting good for y/n, so he went under her and rested her head in his lap.

“S-Stop! Stop!” Y/n second orgasm washed over her so quickly she couldn’t even process the first. “You shut the fuck up,” Billy slapped a hand over her mouth with his one hand still gripping her neck.

Y/n reached an arm back on Eddie’s clothes, holding them tightly as he stroked the side of her forehead to calm her as Billy took what he wanted.

“Just relax, baby. He’s close. Take it for a little while longer,” Eddie whispered to her as her eyes rolled back and her vision seemed to get bad.

Billy’s groan began to sound wild. You’d think his anger would have calmed down by now, but he feels like he could go another few rounds.

“It’s okay, be a good girl for Billy,” Eddie heard a yelp from y/n as Billy dug his nails into y/n’s neck to force her moans out.

Eddie wanted to push Billy off but didn’t know for what reason. Was it to help y/n rest for a few minutes, or was it to take his turn from the hard-on he got again.

“Just cum again, sweetheart. I’m right here. I’ll help you,” Eddie said before leaning over to rub at y/n’s sensitive clit. “N-No! No more!” Y/n begged before Billy got the chance to bring his weight down on her mouth.

“Yes, you can, baby. You want Billy to stop right?” Eddie asked, long into the poor and horny girl's eyes as he wiped at her years. She didn’t nod or say anything as she got lost in his eyes, but he knew what she wanted.

“Then cum, baby. I know you want to. You can give us at least one more. Just one. Wanna taste you, baby,” Eddie said before seeing y/n’s eyes roll back once again.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” Eddie rubbed faster. “So good for us,” Billy groaned as his cock twitched. “Yes, she is. So fuckin’ good,” Eddie praised as her body shook uncontrollably.

“Gonna pump you full then make you talk to Jason and tell him what a slut you are for us. Shit, you’ll even show him how full you are,” Billy said, meaning every word he said.

Y/n mined at the thought of Billy and Eddie wanting to claim her this bad.

“Mhm, fuck yes. Fuck yes, baby, suck me in. Suck me back in, baby, fuck!” Billy slammed into y/n a few harsh times before hurting himself deep into her as he spilled into her.

“You’re always a good little fuck for me. Don’t need anyone else havin’ this lucky cunt,” Billy said as he pulled out with a groan, watching the way her walls tried pulling him back.

“Fuck,” Eddie said under his breath. “So pretty,” Eddie softly rubbed over her whole cunt. Billy finally got off of y/n, allowing her to breathe so much better and let out her whines.

“C'mon, baby. I wasn’t even that rough,” Billy said, feeling like he took it way easier than he planned. “Dude,” Eddie said before they both laughed.

“It’s okay — She’s a good girl and took it so well, didn’t you, baby?” Billy asked as he leaned towards her face, seeing how fucked out her eyes are. “So well,” Billy said before leaning in for a kiss.

Y/n whined in between her kisses, desperately trying to taste him, but it was hard. Everything felt hard to do right now.

“I like the idea of going down to Jason and showing him how much you belong to us, but I don’t want anyone else seeing how pretty this princess is,” Eddie said, softly slapping at y/n’s pussy, making her cry in pleasure.

“So how about you tell Jason you want him to take you to his room so he can see the mess you made. Then you can lay on his bed with us next to you, and spread that pretty pussy for his rich prick eyes,” Eddie said, wanting to hurt Jason as much as possible.

Billy pulled back and looked down at y/n, waiting for her answer. “O-Okay,” she said, not caring about how shitty that would be of her. She wants to make her partners happy and obey for once.

“Atta girl,” Eddie rubbed y/n’s cheek as she caught her breath so she could make it downstairs and not tip over from his good Billy rocked her world.

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evansboyfriend · 18 hours

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you're beggin' me to make a move [ao3]

thank you @swoonjune for beta reading 🥰

“Oh God,” Tommy is panting, helpless, his voice merely above a whisper. “You’re so deep.”

Above him, Evan is smirking smugly, watching him with lust-darkened eyes. He shifts, rolling his hips, sliding even deeper until he finally bottoms out with a soft moan falling from his lips, his chest rising and falling with his ragged breathing.

Tommy closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath, waiting not-so-patiently for Evan to start moving. His body feels loose and warm, melting into the mattress like molten lava.

“Evan,” is all he manages. He sounds wrecked even to his own ears. It’d be embarrassing, if it wasn’t so fucking hot. “Please.”

Evan hums, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Tommy’s thigh, arm wrapped around his leg keeping it steady over his shoulder. “What’s that, sweetheart?”

Tommy lets out a half-choked sob, squeezing his eyes shut. He’s not going to last, that much is certain, even as he’s abstaining from touching himself, impossibly hard as he is, dripping onto his stomach.

“Please,” he says, breathless. “Please, fuck me, please.”

“Tell me. Say it again.” Evan’s voice rumbles above him.

“Fuck me.”

When Evan gets going, he gives it his all; so rough, so raw. There’s something animalistic about the way he moves, the way he thrusts, fast and hard, and the delicious noises he makes. Tommy can’t get enough, can hardly believe he’s been lucky enough to find someone who can so harmoniously switch with him, who gives as good as he takes.

Evan licks his lips, holding his gaze as he bends down over Tommy, and as flexible as Tommy is, he can’t quite reach close enough to kiss him, and that just won’t do. He pauses and leans back, grabs Tommy’s thighs and moves them around his hips before he leans forward again, balancing himself on his one arm while the other grabs Tommy by his neck as their mouths meet. Tommy wraps his arms around Evan’s back and pulls him even closer until they’re pressed chest to chest, even if it restricts Evan’s movements, because fuck it, he needs this.

This right here − this absolute beast of a man, who whispers ‘I love you’ against his lips and kisses him like he’s been starving his whole life, while continuing to thrust into him, slow and deep, and just as hard, and it’s too much and not enough, all at once.

“Turn around,” Evan growls, pulling back, and Tommy whines at the loss of contact but then Evan’s grabbing him by his hips and there it is − there’s the man he’s in love with, who puts him on his knees and fucks him into the mattress, until Tommy’s a sobbing, sweating, leaking mess; who wraps himself around Tommy and takes him in his hand, whispers ‘Come for me, baby,’ in his ear, and makes him come so hard he blacks out, collapsing onto the mattress a limp, breathless mess.

Tommy’s head is spinning. His throat is dry, his heart is racing in his chest, and he can’t catch his breath, and Evan’s in no better shape, panting heavily, pressed against Tommy’s sweaty back, with his head resting between Tommy’s shoulder blades. Tommy’s hand finds Evan’s wrist and peels it away from the mattress to hold it close to his chest, lacing their fingers together. He doesn’t ever want to move, and neither does Evan, not even to pull out.

“We should get cleaned up,” Evan says in a hoarse voice.

“Not yet,” Tommy squeezes his hand, dips his head to press a quick kiss to Evan’s knuckles. “Stay. Please.”

“Like this?”

“Yes.”

Evan hums, content. “I couldn’t move if I wanted to, anyway,” he says, and Tommy feels the way his mouth forms a smile against his skin before he presses a soft kiss to Tommy’s shoulder. “I have jello body.”

Tommy huffs a laugh. “What?”

“Jello body. Learned it from Eddie.”

He can’t help himself, suddenly all he wants to do is see the look on Evan’s face. Tommy shifts, pushing back against his boyfriend who easily slides off of him and out of him, rolling onto the mattress next to him. There’s a dazed smile on his face where he lies with his eyes closed, lost in the post-coital haze, exactly as Tommy pictured. He leans over, pressing his a kiss to Evan’s soft, plush lips, watches as his smile grows wider.

“Not seeing the jello body,” Tommy says, running a hand over Evan’s chest down to his abs, placing it over his hip bone.

Evan chuckles. “Just means I’m super relaxed.”

“Mm. Come relax in the shower with me,” Tommy says, reluctantly getting to his feet and making his way to the bathroom, Evan following suit.

They use up all the hot water because they can’t stop kissing and touching each other even as they’re washing up, then quickly change the bedsheets, and climb back into bed, cuddling up to each other and talking in hushed tones about everything and nothing at all, until they slowly drift off to sleep one after the other.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fanfic #kinkley #buck x tommy #tevan #my writing #achievement unlocked! look newbie!

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wobblesthecowgirl · 2 days

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Hii! I literally love your page so much! If you don’t mind, could you write an Arthur x Fem reader fluff?

So I was thinking, Arthur and the reader are close friends and she has feelings for him, like I mean she is HEAD OVER HEELS for him! But she thinks that he likes Mary-Beth or something and somehow he finds out about her feelings towards him and how she thinks he likes Mary-Beth and he confronts her and is like “I don’t like her I like you” and they kiss or something idk I JUST NEED HIM SO BAD RN😭

I Only Want You.

Arthur Morgan x Femreader

I apologise for the long delay! But thank you so much for your patience and request! I hope you enjoy it! And thank you so much for the love! <3

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“Why not write him a letter?”

Y/n was sitting on a log with Abigail under the sun, looking out to the beautiful scenery before them on the edge of the cliff. They were discussing Arthur, a common topic between the two, and Abigail was trying to convince her friend to finally confess.

“A letter?” She tilted her head.

Abigail nodded, “Yes! I mean, you love to write, and you’re too much of a baby to speak to him about your feelings. I think a letter is perfect. You can leave it for him without seeing his face.”

Y/n thought about it and agreed it wasn’t a bad idea at all. She could sneak into Arthur’s tent with a letter telling him everything she’s always wanted to say, and wait for a response. So, she smiled and hugged her friend tightly, before standing up quickly and making her way to her own tent to begin writing.

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This was harder than she thought. She assumed being able to sit and think carefully about what she wanted to say would be easy, but it just filled her head with more doubts. Before she could start her fourth draft, she heard a ton of horses outside and quickly hid the crumpled up pieces of paper. Most of the men were robbing a wagon and had just come back; from the cheers and laughs, she could only assume it went well. She got up from her chair and peeked her head out of her tent and almost screamed in surprise. Arthur stood right outside her tent.

“Oh! Mr Morgan, you scared me!” She laughed it off, a hand to her chest as he chuckled with her.

“I apologise, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just wanted to tell you how the robbin’ went.”

“I assume it went well, given the smile on your face.” Y/n smiled as she looked around to the other men already cracking bottles of beer. The pair went quiet and the woman wanted to burst into a confession then and there. The sun was setting and it casted a orange glow to his face. His hat caused a small shadow over his eyes and his smile was small and earnest. The little wrinkles around his eyes and mouth only made him more attractive, and his moustache had been recently trimmed.

“Well, I best get back inside now. I’m a very busy lady.” She excused herself. He smiled a little wider and watched her close the tent, almost disappointed with their short exchange.

After their conversation, Y/n got back to her desk and this time, the words began to spill out onto the page with ease:

Dear Arthur,

Firstly, I must apologise. I am too much of a coward to face you, so I’ve resorted to writing this letter.

The truth is, I have fallen head over heels for you. You may not agree with me, but you are a good and genuine man. You’ve helped me in more ways than you could ever imagine. The day you rescued me from my burning horse from the O’Driscolls, I thought my life was over. But, to my surprise, it was the start of an even better life. I truly can’t thank you enough.

I don’t expect you to reciprocate these feelings, and that is ok. I wouldn’t want to ruin this friendship we have formed.

Yours, Y/n.

She kept re-reading it over and over again while a million what ifs ran through her head. What if he’s put off by the letter? What if he has someone already? What if he laughs at her?

She shook her head. She had written it now, all she had to do was plant it in his tent and hide, wallow away in bed while her anxiety ate her up. She folded it and wrote his name on it before peeking her head out the tent again and tip-toeing to his tent. When she saw he wasn’t inside, she snuck in and placed the letter on his bedside table.

Y/n felt satisfied with herself, until she saw a letter on his desk with the name ‘Mary Linton’. Her stomach dropped. Who was this Mary? Was she a lover? A relative? Feeling sick, she rushed out the tent, leaving her letter behind.

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“You alright there, Y/n?” Tilly asked her while she zoned out. It was now night-time, and her mind was eating her up all evening. The women were sat around the fire doing what they do best: gossiping. Of course, Grimshaw or Molly hadn’t joined them, but that was always the case.

“Hmm? Sorry, yeah I’m good.” She brushed it off, taking a big swing of whiskey. The rest of her friends spared glances at one another. Karen piped up while also taking a swig of her own whiskey, “Yeah, I ain't buying that. You’ve been sulking all evening.”

Y/n sighed and began biting her nails out of habit, wondering if asking them about Arthur was a smart idea. But she couldn’t keep letting the question eat away at her.

“Do any of you know who Mary Linton is?”

Mary-Beth looked surprised at the question, “Mary? You don’t know?”

Her stomach dropped again.

“No I don’t.”

Tilly shook her head, already feeling bad for her friend. Everyone but Arthur knew that Y/n had feelings for the older man, it was a miracle the man himself hadn’t figured it out. Tilly sighed, “She used to be his woman. About ten years ago now, but her daddy didn’t like him so it didn't work out. I keep telling him to let it go.”

There it was. Her what ifs became reality. She couldn’t hide her disappointment and took another swig of the whiskey. And another. Then another one.

“Slow down girl! You’ll end badly!” Tilly tried to grab the bottle out her hand but she moved it out of her reach. By now, Y/n vision was hazy and her head felt light. The smell of whiskey was strong on her breath but she felt a little more relaxed at least.

“It’s obvious Arthur likes you back.” Mary-Beth tried to help her feel better, but all she did in response was roll her eyes.

“Oh please. Don’t get my hopes up.” She pouted as she finished the whiskey off. All the women were getting up and getting ready for bed but she decided to sit by the fire a little longer. Karen patted her back, “Please just take it easy. Get some rest soon.” And with that, she was left alone. She just stared into the fire, her mind restless, when she heard a twig snap. She snapped her head back and saw the root of her problems. He looked confused at her state.

“Y/n? What are you still doing at this hour?”

“Nothing.” She frowned, facing away from him, kicking a stone away despite being sat on the log. Arthur sat down next to her, his knee inches away from hers.

“You smell of whiskey, doll. You been drinking too much to handle?” His voice was laced with concern, which only infuriated her more. Why care for her when he already had a woman he cared for?

“Why do you care?” She sounded harsher than she meant to. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was her patience running thin. Maybe it was her disappointment. Either way, her response still shocked him.

“Why wouldn't I?” He asked, and her heart kept sinking lower and lower. They fell silent, and Y/n heard him reach into his pockets and took out the letter. Her eyes widened as she tried to snatch it out his hands but he raised his arm higher.

“Just leave it Arthur!” She shouted, still trying to grab it as he kept his arm in the air, a firm hand on her shoulder to push her lightly.

“Why are you behaving like this? I just want to talk about it.” He tried to calm her down as she stopped prying at him.

“I know about Mary.” She stated which caused his eyes to widen slightly. He glanced at the letter before folding it and putting it back in his pocket.

“The women gossiping again?” He chuckled a little dry, so she only hummed in response. Their gossips were never wrong though, she thought to herself.

“That's history, love. She was only writing to me to help her brother, but I don't like her like I used to.” Arthur grabbed her chin much to her alarm, and gently turned her to face him, before brushing a strand of hair in her face out the way.

That damn smile.

“I love you too. I ain't need a silly little letter, you could've told me and I would've swept you up in a heartbeat.”

It's like time stopped. The alcohol must've gotten to her head. She must've blacked out. Died even, and seen the pearly gates.

But when he leaned forward, and softly kissed her, she felt more awake than ever. He pulled away before she could even react, and his face was bright red.

“Was that a bad kiss? It looks like it was.” He coughed awkwardly.

“No…no not at all. I'm just in shock. I didn't think you actually liked me.”

He laughed light before leaning closer again, a hand on the back of her head, “I don't like you, sweetheart. I love you.”

This time she kissed back, harder. Months of pent up tension between the two was finally being released. It was surprising the two didn't go mad.

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They spent the rest of the night sitting next to the fire, holding hands, and Y/n rested her head on his chest as he held her close. His tumb traced her knuckles as she listened to his heartbeat. She felt protected, safe, warm, and comfortable. She could happily stay like that forever.

Unknown to the pair, the women of the camp were watching from a distance, with giant grins on their faces.

#rdr2 #rdr2 fandom #rdr2 community #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan

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jacaerysgf · 8 hours

Text

chapter two Stuck in the middle

c.s: today is the day of the tourney and you are more than hopeful everyone will be better behaved today. But what happens when you are the one who does not behave. oh no, do you hold affections for both princes!?!?

w.c: 3.1k

a.n: a shorter one i know but i promise its all set up for the individual endings :33 love you guys i hope enjoy <3

fic masterlist

“Well someone looks grumpy this morning.” You grumble as you stab your fork into the array of fruits resting in your plate. “I am not grumpy.”

You are. You did not sleep well last night. Thoughts clouded your mind so heavily you are glad you even managed to fall asleep before sunrise.

You eat breakfast in silence while jeyne and jessamyn chat about the upcoming tourney.

“I think aemond will win” at the mention of his name your head shoots up and you narrow your eyes when you see they are already looking at you with a humorous look. “What?”

“Oh nothing. I simply wish to know your thoughts on the prince.” “He is fine.”

“oh maybe prince jacaerys is more to her taste.” “no it is certainly prince aemond you saw the way he looked at her and she spoke to him!” “are you blind? she was clearly fawning over prince jacaerys and he her!”

“will you both please stop talking about this?” You put your head in your hands as you feel a headache begin to grow. You are not ready to see both of them today you feel like you might die. Atleast they will not be together today for jacaerys will not be participating in the tourney but that also means you will be spending your time with him.

It is not that you do not like him. If anything you adore him you were so close as children but you cannot stand this strange stand off he’s been having with aemond and you pray it doesn’t spill over into today.

He has not come out by the time you arrive to the stands and sit down next to what you believe to be his chair with lucerys seated at your other side. You can see people from the stands below eyeing you and whispering to each other but you try to ignore it. Who cares about what they have to say? You do. You are squinting your eyes to try and see if you can read their lips.

You feel a hand touch your arm and you turn to lucerys who smiles at you. “Are you well dear sister?” “I am not your sister my prince.” A mischievous smile graces his face and you give him a confused look, “Not yet my lady.”

Before you can even ask him what he’s talking about jacaerys sits down beside you and you smile at him. You are always astounded by how gorgeous he truly is, grateful he has fully embraced the curls of his hair and has truly embraced his Targaryen ancestors, rarely being found without the sigil stitched onto his clothes. “Y/n Good day.” “Good day jace.”

He smiles warmly and readjusts himself in his chair. “I’d like to apologize to you. I had lost myself last night and acted inappropriately, acted before i had thought of how you would feel. I offer you my deepest and most sincere apologies.” You shake your head, How could you ever be upset at him? “I accept your apologies and i am glad you did apologize. Most men wouldn’t.”

A look of pride graces his face as he grins, “Thankfully i am not most men.” You find your fingers aimlessly playing with the cuff of his sleeve as you turn to face out at the crowd again, suddenly not caring about what those around you had been saying. “You certainly are not.” He looks down at your hand before he leans back in his chair, turning his wrist around and lacing your fingers with his. You can’t help but flush as his boldness but when you turn towards him and see he is not looking at you but a large grin can’t help but stay on his face.

Suddenly rhaenyra is giving a small speech before the events begin. You are much more invested than you thought you would be, leaning forwards out of your chair whenever the men would come riding out and find yourself gasping at the brutality. “Enjoying yourself?” You turn to jace and nod, “Of course! things like this never happen in the vale, it is rather boring but this is much fun.” You laugh and allow yourself to take a drink from you cup.

“You know we hold tourneys rather often in kings landing, ive grown to find them rather stale.” You tilt your head at him, “truly so often you could grow to find this boring?” “Everytime there is a nameday a tourney tends be thrown in their honor. It grows quite boring once it is your third one this year alone.” You chuckle, “I imagine you are quite miserable right now.” He shakes his head and looks at you with a glint in his eye, “Not quite. I am rather content now with my company i can find anything enjoyable.” You smack him on the shoulder and roll your eyes jokingly, “Shut up.” “Telling your prince to shut up? Do you have no regard for yourself? I am the heir!” “and you shall be buried if you continue with your nonsense.” “it is not nonsense if it is true. You truly are the loveliest company of them all.”

You hum and turn away as you try to calm your racing heart. Yet you find yourself imagining spending you life here. Getting to see these tourneys all the time, getting to feel this thrill, getting to be with jace. You turn to look at him and he is staring out into the crowd with a blank look, he must truly find these events boring. Yet when he turns to look at you you see his face light up and the sun catches his perfectly making him look like an angel. He tilts his head at you, “Is something wrong?” You turn and shakes your head, clutching the favor in your hand tightly.

The mood suddenly darkens as you see aemond finally ride up and you see him tense and you lean forward in your seat. He is dawned in armor that has dragon imagery all over it and graces with a helm which had dragon wings sticking out of the top of it. His face is covered but you’re sure he looks as glorious as ever. You watch as he stops his horse to face the royal box and you swear you can see him pointed in your direction.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, “were going to stand to greet the men this time, you wish to join us?” You look at jace who looks annoyed but does nothing to stop you as you stand and lace your arm with baela’s and walk towards the rail. You lean over and see a rather handsome man standing at the stands. “Is he dornish?” “oh god’s he’s dornish.”

“wyl sand, pleased to meet you.” He suddenly stands in front of you and looks up at you with a grin, “The beauty of the eyrie, you are truly beautiful my lady, if i could have your favor i am sure to bring you glory.”

You stare at him alarmed before your eyes look to aemond who sits frozen on his horse almost as if he is a statue. You turn your head back to jace and you swear you see his eye twitch as he looks at you blanky. you find yourself lost. What happens if you give it to him? will jacaerys and aemond be furious? You do realize you owe them no loyalty you are a free women to do as you please. You grip the favor tightly in your hands as you think to yourself, maybe this will settle the peace a little, if you gave your favor to aemond, who is sure to ask for it as he had asked yesterday, jace would surely be angry but if you gave it to a third party what is the worst to happen?

You hope nothing truly horrible as you toss down the favor and watch him catch it with a small smile. “I wish you well today, ser.” “I am sure to do well with your blesses and favor my lady.” You can’t help but glance at aemond quickly rides away into his starting position not even asking for a single favor. A pit forms in your stomach as you begin to get a bad feeling. “Something bad is going to happen.” You cannot agree more. You watch with weary eyes as the two men ready themselves and you can’t help but grip the rail tightly.

It happens in a flash the two ride past each other and you let out a breath of relief seeing as they both stayed on their horses. You lean forward as the words are called again and the two begin to ride towards each other once more your heart pounding. You barely believe your eyes as aemond falls of his horse and you gasp, covering your mouth with your hands. “Unbelievable!”

You begin to feel bad as if this had been your fault. You clutch over your heart as you watch him struggle to stand, a sickness takes over you as you watch wyl walk over to him and he seems to be saying something to him. “This cannot end well.”

It happens to quick you believe you had imagined it. Suddenly aemond is tackling wyl and punching him over and over beating him into the ground. The crowd errupts into a fever as you stumble back like you can’t believe what you’re watching. He suddenly stands after a couple long moments before reaching down and ripping something off of him.

Your favor.

You watch in horror as he ties it around his wrist as he walks over and poor wyl gets dragged off, you can barely even see his face beyond the blood that has laced it. You can’t breathe. Theres no way he did that because he was mad over the favor no? certainly not. There was no way, right? You turn around and see everyone look at you concerned or alarmed. No.

“I,,, need some air.” You quickly hurry out of the booth and away from the events. Jace stands up and goes to follow after you but rhaenyra places a hand on his shoulder and shakes her head at him. He sits back down but stares at the direction you had run off with a worried gaze.

You walk far enough away you can no longer hear the crowd, it is some walkway you believe, there is some benches and a small pond placed in the center. You find yourself sitting in one of the benches as you try and catch your breath. You place your hands on your knees as you try your best to clear your mind.

“It is not your fault” you remind yourself in a hushed whisper.

“It is certainly not.” You jump at his voice and look up at him alarmed.

Still dawned in his armor which you can now see has speckles of blood covering the torso and the shoulders up to his neck, you see he’s also taken off his gloves you do however notice he’s clutching your favor in his right hand. When you finally look at his face you notice he had some blood speckled all over his face but he had a particular large mark near his lips.

“My prince-” “aemond i beg of you call me aemond.” You freeze at his sudden interruption and notice he looks rather distraught. “Are you alright,, aemond?” you struggle with his name on your tongue before it actually comes out, not used to referring to him so casually. “You should not feel like it is your fault i assure you it is not. I acted with my anger not my head and i will punish myself for it. though i offer you my apologizes for everything.”

“why did you do it?” You look at his eye and he gazes into yours like you are the only women on earth. He pauses for a long long moment, allowing himself to savor the moment. “He had something i wanted.” “My favor? I’m sorry i knew you had asked for it-” “Your attention. The strength and the courage to go ask you for it.” You find yourself staring at the blood on his lips too often and bring your thumb to brush it off his lips and he lets out a couple shaky breaths. “Why did you not ask me for it?”

“I am ashamed to admit i was nervous. I am disfigured, i would not want you associated with me should you not wish it.” You shake your head as you feel your heart break at his words and expression. “I would have given it to you.” You do not mean for your words to crack but you can’t help it. You like aemond you do, though you don’t know him as well as you would wish too, your heart cant help but hurt for him as you think about the cruelty he must have faced through his life.

He says nothing but continues to stare at you. His hands come lightly to grip onto your cheeks the exchange between you is wordless. he places the lightest kiss against your lips before he pulls away, the two of you completely overwhelm with emotions, the two of your sharing battered breaths as he pulls you into kiss him again. This time it is full of fever, its sloppy due to inexperience yet it makes up in eagerness.

The two of you pull apart and attempt to catch your breaths, You find yourself letting a laugh and he smiles a light laugh escaping him as well. “What was that?” “I have no idea.”

“Aemond!” You two pull apart quickly and aemond turns around to see criston sprinting towards him, “The queen has asked for you.” Criston looks between you and aemond bewildered but a pleased look graces his face as you turn away from him, “Let us go.”

Aemond turns to you and smiles, “I shall see you, my lady.” “I shall see you, aemond.” He walks off with criston the smile staying on his face, You see the two enter a heated, well it is only really heated from criston while aemond seems to be remaining as calm as ever, discussion about something, criston turning back a couple times to look at you. You’re sure everyone will be talking about the fact that you were alone with aemond by nightfall. If you were not lucky criston could have caught on to what you were just doing and would tell everyone.

You decide you should head back, not knowing how long you had been out here. You attempt to calm yourself as you walk back to the tourney, the voices of the crowd growing louder and louder the closer and closer you get. yet they are not louder than the voices in your head

Did this mean you were courting? did you want to court him? what would happen to jacaerys? why were you thinking about jacaerys? why couldnt things just be easier?

You walk back up to your seat and smile as everyone welcomes you back, and thank everyone as you move to sit down next to jacaerys again.

“Are you alright y/n?” Your heart aches at the concern obvious on his face and you can’t help but feel you had betrayed him slight. “I am thank you.”

You turn away from him and try not to give into his burning gaze into the side of your face. You cannot get into the rest of the tourney and barely even clap your hands as some random knight wins.

When you stand to leave jacaerys stops you by grabbing your wrist and you turn to look at him, “May i walk you back to your room?” You nod your head unable to refuse him and he gives you a light smile as he offers you his arm as he lets go of your wrist. You grab it and say goodbye to the others as you walk off, not noticing the way alicent glares at the two of you while rhaenyra holds a pleased look.

He breaks the silence once the two of you were alone, walking through the empty keep halls “you are free to tell me if you are upset but i do not wish to push you-“ “he kissed me”

The two of you freeze. You realize that was not the best way to go about it but you had to tell him. It felt wrong not to. Thought you are not officially courting you knew it was inevitable. You look at him as he keeps his gaze forward unblinking as his jaw clenches.

suddenly he begins to walk again and you are shocked but attempt to keep up with his long strides. You feel awful as he continues to not gaze at you.

“I know we are nothing official nor are me and him anything official but i felt like i had to tell you, you are important to me-“

He suddenly pushes you against the wall and you gasp, staring at him with wide eyes. “jace-“

“do you wish for me to kiss you?”

What.

you should be furious. you should slap him across the face and tell him no. tell him to release you and walk away. his first thought when you tell him you kissed another man is to ask you to kiss him? Is he crazy?

but you do want him to kiss you. So maybe that makes you crazier than him.

“yes.”

The first thing you notice is his lips are softer than aemonds. The kiss is also a lot softer. Like he is in no rush, he has all the time in the world to worship you and press his lips against yours. He hums lightly as yours hands come up to his neck and play with the hairs on the back of his head. You slowly pull apart and he leaves a couple more pecks on your lips as you two smile.

“You are a wonder.” you laugh lightly at his praise. and shake your head. “You do not need to flatter me.” “It is not flattery it is simply the truth.”

you push against his chest and he stumbles back with laugh. he opens his mouth as if he is about to speak but a maid suddenly rounds the corner. “my prince. You are needed for a meeting with the council.” you watch as his face falls and he sighs, giving you a sad look. “I shall see you?” “i shall see you.” he grins at you before he walks off with the maid, not before glancing at you once more before rounding a corner.

you let out a long breath and lean your whole body weight on the wall until you slide down the wall onto the floor.

You were certainly in a lot of trouble.

taglist (open!) @smurfelle @venmondiese @winter-soldier-101 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @councilofcastamere @tssf-imagines @atargaryenlover @possiblyafangirl l @bibliophile221b @your-favorite-god @daenaera-t @daddymggx x @ffuckingllife @claire-loves-music c @elissanatok

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roonyxx · 1 day

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Healing Love: Part 2

Summary: You have a normal life as a nurse, and you are content with it. But then a storm called Dean Winchester rolls into it and you get swept away by his charms. But secrets linger and threaten to drown you both.

Pairing: Dean x Witch!nurse!reader

Word count: 2455

Chapter warnings: angst, wounds and medical stuff (i am no professional and have no idea what the real treatments are), fluff.

support me :)

Healing Love Masterlist

My Masterlist

Deviders made by @firefly-graphics, give her some love!

The day at work seemed to last forever but eventually your shift ended and you hurried home, you jumped in the shower to shave, scrub, wax, all of it.

By the time you fed Quinn and are all dressed up it is seven.

You check your phone, no news. Which is not abnormal, he might be driving.

You sit on your porch while waiting for Dean to show up.

Seven thirty rolls around and no news.

You dare to send him a little text.

“Hey, it was seven at my place, right?” you send to him.

No answer. It’s not even read.

Quinn can feel your sadness at being stood up and lays his furry head on your lap.

“Perhaps he’s just late.” You tell him while stroking his ears.

Or he stood you up…

Around eight you go back inside and take off your heels. You really thought he liked yesterday’s kiss…

Was it a bad kiss? To you it was the best kiss ever. But maybe not to him? Is that why he ghosted you?

A smile blooms on your face when you hear your phone ringing, but as soon as it came it fades at the unfamiliar number.

“Damn spammers.” You mutter while hanging up.

Was it a little high hopes on your side that Dean wanted to go out on a date with you? Maybe… he is extremely beautiful. But he was the one who suggested it. It made no sense.

The number pops up on your screen again and you grunt while you hang up. Only for the number to pop up again.

“Jeez this one is motivated.” You sigh.

You stare at the number, maybe it’s work?

Not like you have plans for tonight anyway. You pick up.

“Hello?”

“Is this Y/N?” A strange voice asks you, but there is something similar about it.

“Yeah? Who is asking?” You frown.

“My name is Sam, I’m Dean’s brother, we need your help.” He sounds in a hurry, or worried even.

“My help?” That couldn’t be good…”Where is Dean?”

“He got hurt, badly… I know you don’t know me but- but he needs you. I will send you coordinates, could you come to us?”

“If he’s hurt badly he needs to go to a hospital.” You say, hurt again? Yesterday the cut, today this…

What are they involved in?

“That’s not an option, please Y/n, I- I don’t think he will get through the night without you.” He sounds so desperate.

Rubbing your face you grab your big bag for emergencies. “Send me the address, I will come.”

“Thank you” he sighs with relief “I sent the text, you text me when you’re here. Hurry please, Y/n.” And then he hangs up.

Walking with your big bag to your car you check the coordinates.

Who uses coordinates? You put them in your gps and see it’s just on the edge of town. You speed down the roads to get there within thirty minutes.

You get out of your car and frown, there is nothing but an old factory and woods here.

You send your text to Sam, telling him you’re here.

The big metal door of the factory opens with a loud creak.

“Y/n! Hurry, he’s in here.” Sam says from the opening.

You hurry down the little steps and follow Sam inside and look over the railing with wide eyes.

This isn’t an old factory…

The magic inside you immediately reacts to the sigils that are hidden in the walls. This whole building is magical, powerful. Your magic eases against the sigils with a soft hand, reassuring them you are not a threat. Once they are soothed they stop oppressing you like an intruder.

Inside is a very big room with many lights and machines you don’t understand. A big world map table lighting up in the middle.

And on that table is an unconscious Dean, bleeding heavily from his stomach and his face is covered in blood from a cut you can’t see.

“Oh god…” You run down the few stairs and get to the table.

“What happened!” You scream at Sam while you get to work.

Ripping open your bag you get out your stethoscope and listen for his heartbeat. It’s there but weak…

Bloodpressure is too low, he lost a lot of blood…

“What is his blood type?” You ask while cutting open his shirt.

His stomach… It’s shredded, this needs a surgeon, not a nurse.

“His b-bloodtype uhm” I can see Sam shaking in the corner of my eye, “we’re both O.” He eventually says.

“Sam…”

“I can’t explain what happened, he got c-cut open. Please… do something.”

“I’m not a surgeon.” You pant, the panic and magic rising within you.

He needs my magic but…

But the way he gets hurt every day, no hospital, the magic of this place...

Your eyes water while looking at his unconscious face, of course he has to be a damn hunter…

Hunters murdered your friend ten years ago. You swore to her to never get near a hunter again, it was the last thing she asked of you.

You have plenty of catheters and bags to make a blood transfusion. It’s not at all like the protocol in the hospital but it will have to do.

You can’t let him die.

“Sam, you need to get me some tape, water, a bowl, a lighter, and all the bandages you have. Go now.”

Sam nods and runs out of the room.

Giving you the chance to be alone with Dean.

You put on your gloves and start cleaning his stomach as much as possible to see the damage.

Definitely werewolf claws…

You grunt, “I can’t stitch this much shredded skin…”

You look over your shoulder to make sure Sam isn’t here and take off your gloves to start rubbing your hands together.

They heat up and start glowing with a golden light, you make your hands hover over his wound.

It is impossible to heal it all, your magic untrained and rarely used. But you will do what is possible.

You know that with training you would be able to heal a lot of things, but using it is very dangerous and it drains you. A lot.

You focus on healing the cells of his intestines, healing every precious organ that is inside, then you focus on the peritoneum, the bag that seals the intestines.

Sweat is forming on your brow and you wipe it away with your sleeve to prevent it from falling inside his wound.

Dizziness is creeping in and you push your magic to knit his stomach muscles back together and heal the edges of his wound, you can stitch them when they are less shredded.

You are panting heavily by the time your magic runs out. But you check his wound and are satisfied to see his muscles are perfectly closed.

You thread your needle, black spots are creeping into your vision but you push through.

Sam comes running in with everything you asked for.

“Tell me what to do.” He says.

“Check his head, find the cut and tell me if it’s deep, clean up as much as you can.”

He nods and does exactly that while you stitch his layers of skin back together.

“It’s not deep but bleeding hard, it’s just on the edge of his hairline.”

“Keep pressure on it and use butterfly bandage to put it back together. It should hold.”

I finish with my stitches and put a big bandage over his stomach, then wrapping a compression bandage around his entire waist to keep it all in place.

You move next to Sam to check Dean’s head, it is indeed not very deep and what Sam did will be sufficient.

You go to Dean’s arm and put in a catheter, you give him some antibiotics to fight of any bacteria that got in his open wound and a shit ton of pain killers, then you move to Sam.

“Sam, sit, he needs blood.”

You grab his arm and start drawing blood to make a transfusion.

After Sam donated the maximum he can, you make shift a pole to hook the blood bag so it can slowly enter Dean.

“You’re both very lucky to have O.” You sigh, exhaustion is starting to claim you but Dean can’t stay on the table, he needs to be comfy. You give Sam just a little time and hand him a cookie to get his sugars up.

“Can you carry him?” You ask Sam.

He nods “I can. W-will he be okay?”

“He can’t stay on the table. I don’t know yet, I gave him a lot of pain meds, he should wake up in a few hours, or his heart can stop from the trauma.” I say as my eyes stay on his chest, that’s slowly moving up with each breath he takes.

Alive. He’s alive.

Sam carefully picks Dean up. You stay close, making sure the blood bag stays above Dean’s head.

Sam walks him through the enormous building and reaches what you presume is Dean’s bedroom and puts him in the bed.

You arrange his pillow and cover him so he doesn’t get cold, then grab a chair and sit next to his bed.

You take off your smart watch, turn on the sound and wrap it around Dean’s wrist, a faint beeping noise sounding that follows the rhythm of his heart.

“Get some rest Sam, I will be here, if his heart stops, my watch will make an alarm noise, I will stay here, making sure he’s okay.”

“I want to stay here.” He argues.

“I can’t have you in the room when he crashes, which is a chance. Go to bed, try to rest. You will need your strength when he wakes up.”

If he wakes up…

Sam gives a little nod and reluctantly leaves.

You slump in the chair and watch Dean breathe. The exhaustion will claim you soon, so you learn forward and touch his chest, putting your very last magic into his heart. The weak rhythm of his heart starts to pick up, with your magic it became stronger.

With the reassurement that he won’t die, you stop fighting the exhaustion and pass out.

“Y/n?” you hear your name being faintly said, but your eyes won’t open just yet. Your body feels as if it is submerged in deep dark waters, every movement feels heavy and hard.

“Y/n?” your name is repeated, and you can feel yourself rising up to the surface of consciousness.

Your eyes peel themselves open and made contact with two spring forest green eyes.

Dean.

Dean!

Your eyes jump open and you reach his side.

“You’re awake.” You gasp, you check the watch around his wrist and see three hours have passed, his heartbeat and blood pressure are not perfect yet but they are good enough.

“How do you feel?” You ask him while taking off the now empty blood bag from his catheter.

“Not great.” He winces with a small smile, “But seeing you definitely helps.”

He still looks very pale.

“Pain?” You ask him while getting some more painkiller in a needle and putting it in his catheter.

He nods.

“This will help.”

He carefully lifts the covers to see his stomach, all wrapped up. “The last time I looked here I saw inside myself… I thought-“ he swallows hard and looks at you, “I missed our date.”

You can’t help but chuckle, “You almost died and you’re thinking about our date?”

“I was looking forward to it.” He defends.

“Me too.” You softly whisper.

“This isn’t what I had in mind as a date.” He lowers the cover again, “How did you get here?”

“Sam called me urgently, saying he needed my help and let me in. Good he did, I managed to help you, the next weeks will be hard, Dean. We will see each other a lot more. You talked about me to Sam?”

The smile he gives you is far from weak, “To see you a lot more doesn’t sound bad at all. I did… I was excited to tell him about you.”

You give him a smile back, blushing at how he wanted to tell his brother about you.

How you ever doubted for a second to not use your magic to heal him.

You would risk it all just to see him smile.

“What was your idea of a date?” You ask him to keep his mind, and perhaps your own, off how close he came to dying.

“Something cheesy, like a picknick in a field with a pretty sunset. Dropping you back at your place after we had a great time and then, then I would kiss you again.” He says.

You smile, “So you’re a romantic guy, huh?”

“Very.” He grins and tries to lean towards you, only resulting in him hissing.

“Careful!” You say and help him adjust his position by putting your arms around his naked shoulders and tugging gently on his pillow.

“That’s the second time you ripped of my clothes, you know if you want to see me naked sweetheart, all you have to do is ask.”

“You’re such a flirt.” You smile at him and realize how close your faces are together, you glance down at his lips.

“I regret not kissing you tonight.” He whispers against your lips.

“Tonight isn’t over yet.” You whisper back.

He smiles and closes the gap between you two. Kissing you deeply.

You carefully cup his face, kissing him back.

He moans when your tongue brushes against the seam of his lips, asking for entrance, which he grants.

His hand comes up to brush your cheek. He tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss, more moans spilling out from his mouth.

You’re panting against him, your hands slipping in his hair as you get lost in him.

A harsh hiss breaks you apart and you see that he tried to pull you closer, resulting in hurting himself. You slowly peel yourself away from Dean.

“You need to rest,” you pant, your lips swollen and wet from his kiss, “No excessive moving for you for at least two weeks.”

“The idea of taking a nurse on a date is much sexier than in real life.” He grunts as lays back down more comfortably, “No excessive moving, so no kissing?” he gives you the biggest puppy eyes, almost as cute as Quinn’s.

You blush and say “Only kissing is okay. Calm kissing.”

“I can survive with calm kissing,” he smiles then winks, “For now.”

You blush even harder and smile.

“Rest Dean, you need it. I will be here.”

Forever Tags 2024: @jay-and-dean @flamencodiva @snowlovespie @awkward-and-indecisive @hobby27

Dean tags 2024: @akshi8278 @pink-sparkly-witch @verytoadpapersoul @eevvvaa @muhahaha303 @alwaystiredandconfused @deansimpalababy @globetrotter28

Healing Love tags: @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @suckitands33 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @brightlilith @snowayumi

send me an ask if you want to be on any of my tag lists! (or if you want to be removed)

#roonyxx #dean winchester #supernatural #dean x reader #spn fanfic #dean winchester x reader #smut #dean x y/n #spn #healing love #healing love part two

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lovebvni · 2 days

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holaaa!! (dr rant + just an appreciation post)

(TW SLIGHT HINT TO GROOMING)

soo i’m shifting soon and i decided that im going to make my first album when i get there (LIKE START JT, DUDE. START IT. IM SO EXCITED) there’s going to b an ep i’m going to finalize when i get there and it will be released on the 26th of the month i get there (as it is kinda a diss on a MAN who was 26 when we dated… i was a minor still.)

i’m also gonna make a family tree because i’m really bored (and i also kinda js wanna see all my siblings yk? im gonna draw them all soon bc like AUGH AJAJDKDJ I MISS THEM!!!)

omgz i’m so excited dude!!

(appreciation below!!)

also i saw billie eilish in my dream last night. one of the funniest and sweetest people i know 😭 SHARK WAS ALSO IN THAT DREAM HES SO SWEET ‼️‼️ god i wish i could hug them today, just right now. yall don’t understand how much billie and finneas have been through together, and im so proud of how far they made it. i love you both, and although you won’t see this post in this reality, i know you will when we r together :DDD u guys make me so happy, so inspired, and just a better person overall. also huge thank you to billie in helping me with directing my music videos and being featured in one of my favorite songs — ripple effect. thank you finneas for just 😭 for keeping her alive, giving her a passion, and being so protective and supportive of her.

i’m so excited to b friends w both of them n js talk to them daily — it’s so fun.

i’m also super duper excited to meet one of my closest friends — nile — in person finally!!!! it’s been like 3 years of shifting together, and i know she’s excited too. i know she’s reading this, btw so i love u sm nile and thank u for being such a great and perfect friend throughout this whole journey. i truly don’t think i would still be kicking without you. i owe you the world, and i know you’re going to be blessed with many MANY things in the coming months, and the years following will be some of your best, but that’s only a taste of what is truly to come.

i’m so proud of you, and i’m also so round of everyone that has been clinging onto shifting even though it hurts. i’m always here for you. i love you all so so much. i want the best for you, and i know you’re going to get it. i’m always here to help in ANY way i can. ask me anything, i promise you i will answer with the wisdom God and the universe has given me!!

i cannot express my gratitude to my father, loki, enough. i don’t know how to even put it into words. he’s been there at my hardest, he’s been there at my best. i don’t think i would actually even be this far without him either. he’s one of the silliest and sweetest people ive ever met. i can’t believe he’s my FATHER you guys!! ITS SO COOL AUGHH

i also have so many people here i need to thank, there’s more that i can think of right now but just know i love and appreciate every one of you guys.

staring with @smellofemale!! you were such a sign when i met you. i don’t think i’ve met a christian shifter — you’re the only one i still talk to if i have! im just so so sooo blessed to have met you. i don’t know what to say, dude! i love you so much. you’re so sweet, so kind, and so inspiring. i love you!

@eneablack although you’re one of my newest friends, you’re another really really inspirational one. you’re so open about your struggles with shifting, even though you’ve had success time and time again. it shows me and many others how shifting sometimes is a hard thing to get used too, even with successes under your belt!

@daisys-reality! if you don’t know them, FOLLOW IMMEDIATELY PLEASE OMGGJAJSN she gives some of the best and most accurate readings i could ever ask for. also her drs (specifically her mermaid one) have inspired me so much!!

@kanachaka UR AO COOL BRO I JS LOVE SEEING UR POSTS AJSJDKDJD

@kazylynn i love u sm!! u rlly show me i can be an inspiration to others, and that’s something i’ve hoped for all my life. i want to be a good, helpful person — and i love you for showing me i can be.

@babybearthepsychic a few months ago you gave me a free reading that was just so accurate and so real. i don’t know if i would still be on this spiritual journey without it, because i was at one of my hardest points then. i cannot believe how just truly accurate and kind you are. i love you so much, you’re doing amazing. i wish i could give you the biggest hug, and i could donate like a million dollars to u rn but i literally don’t have a job 😭

@zipperrants i don’t think i rlly need to explain this… dude i thought u we’re so cool even when u we’re js interacting with @maddies-chronicles and i rlly wanted to interact w u so bad but i was so so scared bro!! and thank u hale for giving me the opportunity to meet them!!

@accidentalshifter YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW MANY PEOPLE U REPRESENT IN THIS RESLITY — YOURE ONE OF THE FIRSR ADULT SHIFTERS I SAW ON HERR AND IM SO SO SO SO SOOO FUCKING HQPPY YOURE SO OPEN ABOUT IT! you’re just so free and it’s beautiful. i love you so much

and there are so many more but i just.. im gonna cry i love you all tooo much.. please know u all mean so much to me and i can’t wait to tell u so many stories when i get back, and help u guys shift. i am working so hard to post more, and i pray this post can help me become more active.

so so so much love, to everyone in this community, you’re so wonderful. may the gods bless you.

so much love, peace and joy

the abyss

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blissfullsvn · 7 hours

Text

between the lines pt. 2

pairing: academic rivals!taesan x reader genre: fluff word count: 2.5k warning: one mention of reader being shorter than taesan a/n: read pt. 1 before this! but once again, the academic rivals are not academic rivaling here bcs they’re busy being (ironically) stupid 👎 anw, long-awaited pt. 2 is out! feedbacks are vv appreciated <3 pt. 1 | masterlist

taesan is kind of regretting his decision.

when you had reluctantly stood up and rested your weight over him, he was nothing but nervous. it was the first time you had ever been this close to him, your body directly pressing against his, and it took everything in him to not break into a bundle of nerves. or at least, not enough for it to be visible—he would rather redo that hellish test he took last week than make you see him like this.

his determination had proven to be difficult—extremely difficult—when he felt your cheek land on the curve between his neck and shoulder, the warmth of your breaths tickling his skin. he hoped you couldn’t see the goosebumps on his skin, or the way the hair on his nape stood.

that had been the only movement from you since he hoisted you up, and he was already walking out of the building, which took a considerable amount of time from the student council office. judging from how quiet you had been all throughout, he expected silence to blanket him all the way to your dorm as he assumed that you had fallen asleep again.

that was when his words had bounced back to slap him across the face.

the weight on his shoulder lifted, and he felt your gaze from behind him. “han taesan,” you called, breaking the quietness of the street.

“hmm?” he responded gently, and lifted you up to adjust your position.

you had allowed another beat to pass before you opened your mouth, and that was when the dam shattered.

taesan immediately slows down his steps in surprise, and he merely blinks at what he’s hearing. every single word you utter out only makes him more baffled, because what you’re saying should never be said aloud, especially in public. even now, you’re still throwing out the most creative expletives he could’ve gone his entire life without knowing, not to mention the concern you’re starting to instill in him over his own life.

but despite all of this, he can’t take you seriously when your cold has made your voice so nasal that all he can think about is how adorable you sound, on top of the fact that you’ve dropped your head to his shoulder again in the midst of your life-threatening remarks. your cheek is squished against his jacket, making your words come out in a mumble, and he can’t help but be absolutely endeared. even when you’re cursing at him like your rent’s due.

so, yes, he’s aware that maybe what you’re saying isn’t something which warrants a reaction like his, but how can he help himself when you’re even cuter in this state?

hence, even though you’ve cursed him out a total of 81 times within the past five minutes, he’s not offended. if anything, he’s amused, though he is seriously considering the depth of your feelings towards him.

“did you eat the wrong medicine?” you mumble slowly, eyebrows furrowed in genuine concern. “possessed by another entity?” you sniffle. “or shoved a pipe down your throat?—wait,” you pause, sniffling again. “that’s what i want to do... to you… but i’d be concerned if you did it to yourself….” you trail off, as if thinking about the possibility. “i digress. are you insane?”

taesan can’t hide the amusement that escapes in a form of a poorly-hidden chuckle.

“are you laughing?” your tone is accusing. “there’s seriously something wrong with you,” you say, and he spends another few minutes getting told off for everything he’s done wrong to you in your book. he remains silent the entire time, as he has been since you began talking, until he hears something that makes him feel indicted for the first time.

“...and that one time,” you sniffle, “you gave me a cup of coffee back in our first semester… you were trying to murder me, weren’t you?” you huff, but ironically, you’re tightening your arms around his shoulders.

“i genuinely didn’t know you were allergic!” he lets out almost petulantly, feeling incriminated. “if i had known, i would’ve never done that….” he trails off, then adds quietly, “there’s no way i would.”

you raise your head, looking at the empty roads beside the sidewalk as you ponder for a bit before your cheek falls back on his shoulder. “i’ll admit that was a bit of a reach. i won’t apologise though,” you say, and he can only let out an incredulous snicker.

“and i suppose,” you add, “if you had such sinister intentions behind your pretty face, i would’ve been dead by now.”

taesan widens his eyes, slows his steps. the tips of his ears are hot, but he plays it off when he asks teasingly, “you think i’m pretty?”

“of course. i’m not blind,” is your immediate response. you say it so candidly that it catches him off guard, and his plan to fluster you instantly backfires on him. he’s just glad you can’t see his face, because he’s sure he resembles the red light ahead the empty roads.

“oh my god, han taesan.” you suddenly raise your head, looking down at him in disbelief. he panics at your reaction, ready to spew out excuses about why he’s full-on blushing, when he hears what you say next.

“did you offer to carry me home to distract me? to make me think about this moment over and over again and lose sleep over this and mess up my speech during the election so you can end up becoming the president? is this your grand plan?”

taesan has noticed that you become, for lack of better words, a yapper when you’re sick, but he didn’t think that your imagination would go overboard in this state too. nonetheless, he easily pushes the observation away when he deciphers the meaning behind your words and he doesn’t miss the chance to spin the tables around.

“i’m flattered, y/n,” he says, biting back his grin with a blush that’s still visible, but a lot more subdued. “i didn’t know i had this much of an effect on you.”

it seems you’ve finally registered what you just said, as he feels you freeze up behind him, and all he can do is try to suppress the smile that threatens to stretch across his face. he’s slowed down his steps considerably because he knows he’ll arrive at your dorm soon, but you’re already jumping off his back before he can realise.

“have a terrible night,” you say with a painfully straight face and walk off briskly, but halt in your tracks almost immediately.

“you left your bag,” taesan says, hiding his amusement behind his hand as he holds up the backpack he’s been carrying together with you.

you turn and stalk to him, grabbing it wordlessly before taking long strides away from him to disappear from his view.

when you wake up in the morning, it feels just as humiliating as the time you called han taesan when you were drunk (you had ended up cursing at him for fifteen minutes straight, and he somehow hadn’t cut you off once), which had become one of your top miserable moments in life.

no, this is even more humiliating, because at the very least you could use the excuse of intoxication before, but you had been fully sober this time.

it takes a little more effort to get up today, but before long, you’re heading out of your dorm quietly to not wake your roommate. despite being ten minutes later than usual, the student council office is still empty by the time you arrive. you can only be grateful, because the dread that had clawed at your skin as you stood before the door was intense—you really didn’t want to face him.

you find yourself hating the joy you dumbly felt a few moments ago, because the moment you take a seat, the door opens and of course it’s the person you wanted to avoid the most today.

you don’t greet taesan or even spare him a glance as you pull out your laptop and place it on the desk, but you see him inching closer from your peripheral vision. with your eyes lasered on your laptop screen, you pretend to not notice until he’s directly next to you and you have no choice but to address him.

wordlessly, he places a bag next to your laptop and walks to his usual seat on the opposite side of the conference table. your gaze follows him momentarily before you turn back to the bag. you take a peek and immediately raise an eyebrow when you see three different cold medicines, your favorite candies, and a cup of hot green tea—the same one you bought last night.

you look up at taesan, who seems to be darting his gaze everywhere but at you, but the door is already opening again as more members enter the office for the meeting. you keep your eyes on him for a little longer, who’s still adamant on not looking over, until you finally break your gaze when the meeting starts.

after you’re dismissed, you immediately call out for taesan, who looks up like a meerkat at your voice. you ask him to stay in the room for a little longer and pointedly ignore the meaningful looks from your fellow council members, who quickly file out of the room sensibly.

the moment the door shuts behind them, you raise the bag he gave you, shaking it slightly. “are you trying to bribe me?” you interrogate, straight to the point.

taesan only blinks, as if he's trying to process what you just asked, before his lips part and one corner of his lips quirks up in what can only be a scoff of disbelief. “are you serious?” he shakes his head, but not unkindly.

“i mean—” you falter, finally realising how you came off. “thank you,” you say, and the way he instantly brightens up reminds you of a cat at the sight of treats. “but,” you add, and he shrivels. “why?”

he swipes his bottom lip with his tongue and flattens the hair on his nape as he says, “you’re sick.”

“i’m… aware,” you reply, forcing down the recent memories that floated to the top of your head. “i just—” you pause, looking down at the bag in your hands to gather your thoughts before you face him again. “people don’t usually do this for those they hate.”

taesan blinks. once, twice, thrice. the immediate rigidness from him is so noticeable that the air almost turns icy around you. you’ve never had a comfortable one, but the silence that falls over you is suddenly too loaded, too overbearing.

but then his eyes lock onto yours, as if he’s finally seeing you, and the edges of his demeanour instantly melt away. he’s looking at you so softly, reminiscent of his expression in your memories, that it strangely makes you fidgety.

“y/n,” he calls, which suddenly feels too loud in the room with no one else but the two of you. he rounds the table and walks towards where you stand on the opposite side, stopping a few feet away.

you look up at him, and it’s the first time you’re noticing how tall he actually is. like this, him staring down at you with eyes that hold too much, you feel a little… nervous.

though his expression is still construed as bewildered, you can feel his gentleness radiating from every cell, as if he’s holding a flower in his hands he’s afraid to crush. “i don’t hate you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t think i ever could.”

oh. you think, and you can feel the puzzle pieces start to align in your head. “but… you’re always trying to rile me up.” you find yourself furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, the pieces repelling each other again.

he caresses his nape, looking down sheepishly. “i thought… we were having friendly banter,” he says, then looks over at you through his eyelashes. “i’m sorry for upsetting you,” he says, and the sincerity in his tone is so evident that it takes you aback.

“oh.” you think aloud this time, surprised by the unfamiliarity of the man before you. “it’s… okay,” you reply. then, you suddenly realise how dramatic you’ve been, and you feel your cheeks heat up uncontrollably. “i’m… sorry too, for all the times i’ve been rude to you.” you lower your head and shut your eyes, too embarrassed to look at him.

taesan laughs, a hearty sound that surrounds you like a warm blanket. you open your eyes, realising it’s the first time you’ve heard him like this, and look up to capture the moment. he’s laughing toothily, eyes crinkled into half-moons as he hovers one hand over his mouth. as you take in the sight of him in awe, you suddenly realise that this may be what has been beneath your emo rival’s irritating remarks all this time.

when you look back at all the times taesan has interacted with you, you don’t know why you thought he hated you. besides his tendency to, in his words, banter with you in class and the student council, he’s always tolerated your ridiculousness—from that call where he had simply asked if you needed a ride home after listening to your insults, to carrying you on his back all throughout the relatively long walk to your dorm just because you said it in passing.

you furrow your eyebrows. the puzzle pieces are moving closer again.

“taesan,” you call out before you can stop yourself. as of this moment, your mouth has disconnected from your brain as you try to fit the puzzle correctly, so you find yourself spitting out the question without a warning. “do you like me?”

the way he stiffens instantly would be comedic if not for the fact that you had asked a question that could break the truce you just formed. the realisation finally dawns on you, and panic starts to set in as you see his reaction. “you don’t have to answer that, i didn’t mean to—”

“y/n,” taesan cuts you off effectively. for a moment, only silence can be heard between you, and you hope he doesn’t catch your erratic heartbeat from your nervousness.

then, he offers a small smile. “give me a chance to answer this properly next time,” he says extra softly, as if he’s afraid of scaring you away. “for now, just know that, even if you drunk-dial me to yell at me again or curse at me all throughout another piggyback ride,” his smile increases, “i will never be able to dislike you.”

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bi-hop · 1 month

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They scan my brain and it’s just me rotating this sequence from one of the bonus comics for Dungeon Meshi in horror

#laios touden #falin touden #dungeon meshi #not sure if I should tag this as spoilers? eh I’ll do it anyway #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #anyway I think about this a lot #most people focus only on the familial elements #as in Falin still being in contact with their parents and so forth #and I get it I do #but I can’t help but read this as a ‘will i ever see him again???’ moment #due to how gaunt he looked post military #it adds something to the initial scene where Laios tells about meeting with her again #it’s especially interesting/sad bc they did struggle to eat after this from what I recall of others #but they were always drawn happily bc they were together #the siblings ever!!!#I wish good big brothers were real

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atrwriting · 5 months

Text

future problems — coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader

hi everyone :) jumping on the bandwagon

this man is so fine i couldn’t help myself. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday if they celebrate — i celebrate christmas, so here is my almost 10k word christmas gift to all of you xoxo love u all v much thank you for reading !!

as always, warnings: corio-lame-o is a fucking warning holy fuck, smuuuuut, arranged marriage (i think this counts?), coriolanus is a distrustful evil fuck (but he’s super hot), fem!reader, reader is married to this dickhead (i say as if i wouldn’t want to be lmao), angst, sexism and misogyny is def in here, p in v penetration, m receiving oral, choking, dom!corio, asshole!corio, sub!reader, subspace kinda

informal warnings: bro what the fuck was i on this is literally 10.2k words and i refuse to edit because im super lazy anyway we die like men you've been warned

anyways… here is future problems:

he never wanted to get married.

he saw it as a potential problem, one that would most definitely lead to loose ends — and he hated loose ends.

despised them.

however, his innate need to maintain an image was far more important to him. he weighed the costs and benefits in his head like an algorithm — check, check, check. coriolanus’ mind left no stone unturned, especially when future problems were to be squashed before they could ever be wiped from memory. in the end… he decided he would marry.

and it would be you.

he never allowed himself to be naive — so he would never allow himself to marry someone he already loved. lucy gray? a child’s want for something they can’t have, and something they wouldn’t realize until later that it was a walking regret. no — he could never marry someone that would harm him. absolutely not. out of the question. therefore, it had to be you.

it had to be you because what harm would you cause him? you were shy, quiet, of satisfactory social standing, and uncontroversial. everything a patriarch of the snow family would want. deserved. be entitled to.

he needed someone that wouldn’t be a problem — a loose end in the future. he had conquered so much — he refused to let anything else, especially as irrelevant as a significant other, stand in his way.

however… it did not aid him in his stone-cold lack of a love affair conquest that you were absolutely breathtaking.

at first, it was just an ego boost. he simply couldn’t stop his thoughts from voicing, of course she’s perfect. the snow legacy can only have perfect.

but then… oh, then…

then he saw your smile.

oh, your smile.

your fucking smile.

the first time he caught himself enjoying it — he scolded himself. he refused to see you for a week. a punishment of sorts. more so for him than for you. after, he refused to let his eyes wander on the pretty features of your face for him to witness a reaction to something someone had said or done. he didn’t want to be reminded of what it was like to experience joy or peace because someone else was experiencing it — that was what almost costed him everything he had built.

no one would ever tear that down. not again, not ever.

no one.

when the day of your marriage came, it was business as usual. he refused to meet eye contact, and did not partake in more conversations with you than he had to. he could tell you felt uncomfortable — but he forced himself not to care. he drove it down, down, down like a miner drilling for more coal — hoping, one day, it would be worth it.

and it was… until he was sick.

it was a minor ailment — nothing major, but he was on bedrest for about a week or two. he had employed enough adequate members to his staff to feel that things would at least be taken care of until then. he also found comfort in the fact that two weeks was not long enough for something irreversible to occur. if a problem had taken placed, he would be able to rectify it once he was well and able and… set aside the responsible party.

however, he did not expect one problem.

and that would be you.

he knew you were asking to see him. he knew, he knew, he knew, but he refused to let you in. you were not disrespectful — you had only asked once a day, which happened to be every day in the afternoon. he had picked you specifically because you were too quiet to be annoying. however, his own perfect, pristine, and proper plan had stabbed him in the back. he had never considered that the perfect, pristine, and proper wife would be this dutiful to him, checking in once a day on his condition and to speak with him. despite his illness, he laughed at himself — leave it to him to not expect the expected: the hand-selected dutiful wife would, in fact, be dutiful.

he had to put an end to it. he couldn’t keep saying no for another week. how was he expected to get better if you kept bothering him?

so he let you in. this once. just this once. he reasoned that if he let you in this once, you would be less persistent. just this once — and another problem would cease to plague his mind.

just this once, he chanted in his head. just this once.

he sat up straighter, and attempted to shape his hair so it wasn’t terribly unkept. he reasoned that if you saw him appearing to be healthy, you wouldn’t feel the need to come back. he thought —

but he couldn’t finish the thought.

because you walked in.

smelling like fucking lilacs.

lilacs, of all things. lilacs! not roses, not anything else — lilacs. he did not hate lilacs, but he despised the actual flower. only beautiful for so long before it died and the stench was intolerable. an inconvenience. a nuisance. a guaranteed future problem.

however, when you gifted him with a small smile — you realized why small shows of beauty were so valuable in this world. no one else saw your smile — except for those closest to you. people he hand selected to be around you to prevent future problems. he realized then — he had more control and ownership over your smile than either of you thought.

he was so stunned by your smile he didn’t even notice the tray of tea and cakes in your hand. you took a few steps towards him and he shifted in place.

“i brought your favorites,” you spoke softly. “i know you should rest — i just wanted to ask if there was anything i could do to make your recovery easier.”

“no, thank you,” he replied, voice raspy. “i should be well in a few days.”

you nodded and offered an uneasy smile. his eyes flickered over to how once you had set down the tray on his beside, you slowly wiped the palm of your hands down the front of your dress. your eyes were cast absentmindedly in front of you, on the wall — and he could tell something was plaguing your thoughts.

he then also realized there was a book on the tray, much to his dismay.

“someone had mentioned that this was your favorite author. this was published a few days ago,” you began. “i understand that you have been experiencing headaches, and may find it difficult to read… so i wanted to offer to read aloud for you, in case you found these walls dull.”

you smiled — it was an attempt at a joke. he smiled back, but only to be polite. “today i find myself wanting to sleep. i appreciate your offer.”

you smoothed your hands over your dress once more before nodding and forcing a smile. “i’ll leave you to it, then.”

you did not bid him farewell — and he found himself wondering if he was annoyed or grateful. you simply exited the room, and let the door shut softly behind you.

he scrunched his eyes at the door, swallowing hard.

however, he didn’t understand why.

he had wanted this. the perfect wife — knowing when to take a hint and frankly, fuck off. you had done that, perfectly well — so why was he pissed?

he then found himself glaring angrily at his favorite tea cakes. the swap of sugar for honey, another one of his favorites. his favorite author, a book he was excited to read when he was better. he knew that you hadn’t asked about him — he employed people with the requirement to let him know when you were asking questions. he knew your every outward thought and concern, and sometimes even the ones that weren’t shared aloud because they were so evident on your face.

and then he realized: you noticed things like he noticed things.

however, he knew why he went out of his way to notice things, but why did you?

his jaw clenched as he glared angrily at the wall in front of him. he picked up a tea cake and chewed it aggressively, swallowing it half-intact. he coughed at the barely there food, anger rising further to his flushed cheeks.

he needed to understand how, and he most certainly needed to understand why.

he never went out of his way to get to know you, because he thought he already did. he thought he had you boiled down to one thing, and one thing only: passive. incapable of proving to be any sort of roadblock that was capable of getting in his way. now that he knew you shared something with him, what else was shared? was there something he had to look out for? was there something he missed? was he wrong about you?!

he had to know. he had to.

to do that… he called you back that evening. it was two hours before midnight, and he knew you were awake. despite having separate chambers, he knew your daily schedule. you would be reading at this moment, and he would ask you to read for him.

as if on cue, he heard a soft rapping on the wood of the door. he beckoned you in, and you entered the room. you were clad in a night dress with a matching robe over it, all pink silk. this time, he returned your smile.

"i apologize for the late hour," he spoke. "i hope you had not retired for the night."

you shook your head, your tendrils of perfect hair shaking slightly. "i was reading. i am glad you sent for me — can i get you anything?"

"i was hoping the offer to read for me was still on the table," he rasped. "i find myself unable to sleep."

you blinked once, staring at him. in an instant, a small smile was threatening to overtake your face into a large one. you cast your eyes down to a blushing manner, but his eyes narrowed slightly on your face. what would you get out of reading for him? what we he not seeing? what did he miss?

"of course," you responded. "i have not had a chance to read anything by this author. i am glad i have the chance now."

why. why. why.

he did not show his discontent. he simply rested back against the pillows as you reached for the book on his bedside table. you sat down on a chair on his side, and you crossed your legs. he eyed the small portion of the exposed, soft skin of your legs and wondered if your new ploy would be to try and seduce him. however, you quickly covered your skin with the extra material over your robe and placed the book in your lap. once opened, you read for him.

he was not listening to what you were saying, but he was listening to how you said it. the tone, the enunciation, the pauses, and the speed. he wanted to find some clue as to why you had made it a point to be at his beck and call, and he wanted to see how long the act would last until it dropped.

the act would drop. it always did.

the hour would approach midnight before he found that he could not discern anything from how you were reading aloud. his plan did not yield the results intended, as you had not broken from fulfilling his task for two hours. two hours. you had not stopped out of boredom or exhaustion, nor to talk to him. you were poised, soft, and he hated to admit it... but sweet. he found your voice sweet, and he hated it.

and he fucking hated himself for it.

he needed this to end so he could plan further. out of necessity, he yawned. if you were to apt at picking up clues, then hopefully you would believe that he was finally tired. you had succeeded in his given task, and you were free to go.

but you had kept reading for him.

he grew angry.

when you had paused to breathe, he spoke up. "I think i am able to sleep now. thank you, sweetheart, for indulging me."

your eyeline raised with your eyebrows, almost out of surprise. you either were not expecting him to ask you to stop, or you did not want to stop. he wondered which, and if that would answer his ultimate question.

"my apologies, i should've inquired sooner," you replied. "he is a very talented writer... i found myself enjoying his perspective."

you grabbed a piece or scrap paper from his bedside table, and tucked it in between the pages where you left off.

"most people would fold the corner," he remarked, eyes drifting closed — a show.

you smiled. "i didn't want to ruin the integrity of your book. goodnight, coriolanus."

she left with another smile — and all he was left with was confusion, and rage.

the next morning, he found himself wanting to call you back in for a further rouse interview. he would have if he had a plan in place.

that was the second thing about you that annoyed him: you annoyed him to the point where he wanted to act without a plan in place. a loss of control —which he was highly against.

that would have to be righted immediately.

he spent the morning reading the pages that you had already read to brief himself as if he was listening last night. he reasoned with himself that the best course of action would be to ask you to read to him again to see if you had grown comfortable enough to let a few of your true colors slip.

they always slip.

the sudden task that was presented to him gave him a new bout of energy that he needed to inch closer to recovery. it gave him the push he needed to be closer to walking out of this room and continue to run panem, and he was lost grateful to you for giving it to him — almost. at the moment, you were a problem — and that needed to be corrected. immediately.

he found comfort in control, so he was very content with routines. he had grown accustomed to bracing himself for your check-in in the afternoon. however, it did not come until the approaching hours of the evening had almost descended upon the capitol. he waited, and waited, and waited — so long that he considered asking you to come for himself. the hour would approach dinnertime when you had finally asked about his well-being, and he sent for you.

how dare you ask so late in the day, as if you didn't care? he allowed you access to his life that he had denied you for so long, and you return his kindness with carelessness? this would not do. this most certainly would not do.

you had knocked on his door, and he had to stop himself from sounding to eager. he permitted you entry, and you entered with the same soft smile.

"good evening," you greeted.

"hello," he replied, voice still raspy from his sickness.

"I wanted to ask if you need anything," you announced.

he offered a small smile. "i enjoyed our time last night. perhaps you would read for me, again?"

your eyes fell to the floor in a blush. "of course. I was hoping to read more of the book eventually. i found it intriguing."

you sat down in the chair and pulled the book in your lap. as you were opening it, he spoke, "i thought when you had not checked-in in the early afternoon you found the book dull — afraid i would ask for you to read it for me again."

you shook your head as you smiled. "i like his writing very much — i was concerned as to whether i had prevented you from sleeping the night prior, and didn't want to disturb you further."

he swallowed. "why would you have disturbed me?"

your eyes glanced upwards from the pages to rest on his face. coriolanus stared back as slight concern washed over your features, making your lips part and your eyes widen. your tongue darted out from between your lips, and smoothed over the skin of your bottom lip. you responded, "before you fell ill, we hadn't spent much time together and i understand that is because of your position — but, to be frank, i wanted to respect your space.”

your answer perplexed coriolanus. he wanted to find out what type of person you were — and your answers were not yielding the expected results. there was no obvious form of manipulation in your words, which then worried him. were you smarter than he believed you to be? were you as cunning as him? more so?

so he went with what was natural: manipulation.

“i apologize my station has not granted us the freedom to get to know each other further,” he replied, holding your gaze. “it is a regret of mine.”

you smiled in an affirmative manner, like you didn’t believe him but accepted his answer anyway. this expression arose the same feelings he now detested your presence for: he acted without calculating his actions and the outcome they would produce.

“what troubles you?” he asked.

your lips parted and slightly quivered. you were not expecting him to ask.

“i-i was worried that i may not… please you,” you admitted. “that… you may regret our union.”

“you have been a kind and dutiful wife,” coriolanus spoke, eyes holding yours. “there is no regret.”

there was that affirmative smile again. he found himself hating it — wishing it would be replaced by the warm, soft one.

“i guess i was hoping that, when i was married, the marriage would be more than… a union.”

your candor shocked coriolanus. he would never have expected you to say something… so out of turn.

“please, forgive me,” you spoke, slightly laughing and waving your hand in the air. “the hour is almost late and i was hoping to read more. do you still wish me to?”

“please,” he answered and nodded.

you gave him a quick, thankful smile, and began reading.

this would be the second night coriolanus had not listened to a word you had said.

he had gotten his answer, and it was possibly as bad as the one he was actually afraid for.

you were good. pure, innocent, and your outlook on the world untainted. you were not striving to find a loose screw and let the empire fall. you wanted… to support the man who built and kept the empire together. it was worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined — you actually cared for him.

you cared for him, and now coriolanus snow was fucking terrified.

and yet... he had asked you to return to his chambers every night after that.

for research purposes, of course. only research purposes,

to read to him, but his goal was to learn more about you rather than the text.

you would sit there and read until he asked you to stop. when he did, you would close the book, smile at him, place it back on his nightstand, and bid him goodnight.

after, he would wrestle with the blankets and pillows in order to find out how to deal with this.

how had he not expected this?

his only fault was that he neglected to realize how far your shyness would go. you had grown comfortable with him — and you admitted that you wanted something more, something he always felt he could not give. you weren’t shy — you just weren’t open with people you weren’t comfortable with.

he should’ve known. he should’ve. fucking. known.

he didn’t know how to deal with this, if he was being honest with himself.

he told himself that he asked for you every evening to get to know you better, for his own sanity and safety; but then he began to realize he had found out everything he needed to know.

good and honest. how fucking unfortunate.

he saw a part of you, but now he needed to know more.

so what did he do? he sent you flowers. flowers. an arrangement of red roses and lilacs.

he hated himself for the lilacs.

he got somewhere with you when he had made the first move before — maybe this would yield more promising results.

however, it didn’t.

all he received in return was an extra tray of food that had arrived in the afternoon. his favorite tea cakes, and a handwritten thank-you note detailed in your appreciation for the beautiful flowers. you signed your name, and that was it.

she doesn’t make first moves, he thought. she responds to them.

he knew what he had to do.

he found himself feeling better that day — well enough to end his sick leave and return to his matters. dinner was approaching, and he sent for you to join him for a private dinner this evening.

he was washed, dressed, and coiffed within the hour.

he found you in the dining parlor waiting for him, inspecting his large bookcase. you were trying to reach a book a bit above where your height would allow, extending yourself onto your toes. coriolanus walked up behind you, towering over you, and retrieved the book for you.

you glanced up at him with wide eyes. “thank you, coriolanus.”

“what intrigued you?” he asked, grinning softly.

“first one i couldn’t reach. i was working my way up.” you smiled at him, and then the book. “please — you must be hungry. let us eat.”

you sat down at the table across from him. dinner manners were rather stiff and uncomfortable, but your upbringing that was similar to coriolanus’ prevented you from straying from them. you ate in silence for a few moments before you spoke.

“how do you like his new book?” you asked.

coriolanus cleared his throat. “i find it riveting. i wouldn’t have been able to read it for some time if it hadn’t been for you.”

you smiled at your plate, blushing. “his points are very interesting. i was never very interested in politics — so the insight of someone so heavily involved with them is very informative. do you find that your opinions align with his? or does he not share your perspective?”

he appreciated your willingness to engage with him about topics you weren’t very fond of. an underrated trait, not found very often — he had to admit.

“a bit of both,” he responded. “the one thing he does not discuss is how important it is to have a certain type of person or persons in your regime that allows the flow of success to continue.”

you nodded. “you have built a strong administration — i’m sure he would admire what you have to say.”

“what do you believe?” he asked. “about partnerships?”

you swallowed, contemplating your answer. “i think… a successful partnership is where everyone is complimented by another. for instance, someone is better at briefing documents rather than the presentation of them, and another is the opposite.”

“which one are you?” coriolanus inquired.

you paused once more, folding your lip under. he realized that was a sign you were uncomfortable — unaware of how to proceed. after a moment, you answered, “i feel the most confident under a strong leader. i prefer to be behind the scenes. minute details are easier to be taken care of that way. while you and i are different, i respect you for being the strong leader panem needed. i am sure the majority would agree with me.”

now was the time.

“it is easy to be strong when one’s wife makes sure they are well,” he replied, eyes resting on your face. “i hope you know i appreciate your willingness to accept change and make sure needs are met.”

you smiled at him once more, then turned back to your food.

damn, he thought. didnt bite.

“and for being the companion i… didn’t think i would come to enjoy the company of,” he added.

you glanced up at him then, astonishment written in your eyes as plain as the words on the paper you read for him every night. “may i ask you… a question?”

he nodded.

“did you believe you wouldn’t enjoy my company before, or after you had first met me?”

“i don’t understand.”

you swallowed, clearing your throat. “were you… wary of the idea of marriage, or wary of me?”

your gaze did not break from his. you were braver than he thought.

“marriage,” he answered honestly, hoping to witness your reaction.

there was the affirmative smile — the one he hated. “thank you for — for being honest.”

your eyes didn’t wait for a response. you turned back to your food, and left him dumbstruck.

“i hope i have not displeased you,” he stated.

“no, coriolanus,” you spoke. “if i am being honest… i was wary i would not be suitable for you. if i have not displeased you, then i am well.”

“but you stated you wanted more,” he countered, tone even.

“i hoped we would… spend time together,” you answered. “and we have.”

it was coriolanus’ turn to be at a loss for words. what would this admission relay? it only solidified what he was afraid of — you wanted a marriage filled of love, and he was not prepared for that. ever.

“the flowers were beautiful,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “thank you for sending them.”

“your lilac perfume is a wonderful addition to the capitol,” he spoke, unsure where this had come from. “i wanted you to know that.”

you weren't supposed to say that you weren't supposed to tell the truth you weren't supposed

you smiled at him appreciatively, that accompanied a slight twinkle in your eye. you were quick to return to eating, but coriolanus couldn’t stop staring at your face. he realized then that was his new favorite smile.

there was a moment, a small moment, where he wondered whether it would be such a crime if he did allow himself to enjoy your company more than he had. in that moment, he couldn’t think of how it would go wrong. for that moment, you were a simple, low-maintenance, beautiful woman on the other side of the table with him that just liked spending time with him — and he enjoyed that you weren’t a problem. would it so bad if he entertained the idea?

he immediately cut himself off. of course it was a bad idea.

once dinner has finished, he had requested to walk you back your chambers. if time spent together was what kept you at bay, he could manage that. he most certainly could.

when the pair of you had approached the door, you stopped for a moment and paused reaching for the handle. you spoke, “would you… like to come in?”

“not tonight,” he rasped. he gave you a polite smile. “another time.”

he watched as you blinked your eyes a few times and your lips quivered. you didn’t meet his gaze, for it fell — in what appeared to be embarrassment.

oh.

you invited him in to… to…

that he had not expected.

before you had the chance to leave, he swooped down and grabbed your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he pressed his lips to yours ever so softly, holding it there. the moment your breath caught in your throat, there was a strange feeling inside his chest that made him feel like he’d like to quell your worries by catching you off guard another time. and another. and another. and another. he couldn’t have you feeling rejected, no — not when he didn’t want to reject you. he needed heirs, sure — but they could wait. he would contemplate how long later.

once he pulled back, you smiled. inside you were bursting, and you wanted to hurry behind a closed door so he could not see your reaction. he continued to hold your chin and gaze at your face. feeling brave, you looked him in the eye as you bid him goodnight and went into your room.

you left him standing outside your door, facing its wood paneling.

what was he to do?

he wanted to keep you as emotionally far away as possible to avoid anything like this occurring. he was prepared for people who had an ulterior motive… not a young woman who only wanted to be good to her husband.

the worst part was… not every part of him wanted him to keep you away.

would it be so bad, if he had actually courted you?

you were not anyone from his past, no. you were not irresponsible and impulsive, and you could be trusted to remain within a designated role and space. you were rarely outspoken — you never strayed from your cue cards, nor did you get smart in private. you never spoke out of turn, which coriolanus always knew — this was just the first time he was more turned on than he was just grateful.

he reasoned a reward was in order.

he found his knuckles wrapping on the door before he could stop himself.

the small movements inside your apartments stalled for a moment, pulled taut like a string in an instrument. he could picture you — standing still and silent, waiting for an explanation.

then he heard footsteps approaching the door before the door handle turned. when you opened the door, the first thing he saw was your eyes.

those big, beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise — and the slightest bit of hope. coriolanus would most likely try to convince himself that he stayed completely still to exercise a form of control over you — but deep down, he would never be able to believe that completely.

however… when you reached out with your soft, delicate hand, and pulled at his own — it didn’t matter why he did it, because he won.

he shut the door behind him, keeping your gaze.

“i would be coy and ask if we could spend time together in a... different way than usual…” you began, sighing. “but up until this moment i was convinced we would never…”

coriolanus was in no mood to quell insecurities and anxieties. he understood that words could not compare to actions, and so he would do just that.

coriolanus stepped forward, and pressed his large hands against the sides of your face. for a split moment — you almost looked terrified. he usually relished in that look from others, but with you it only made him concerned — angry, even.

“i don’t know what it is about you.” his voice was shaky. it was the first moment in your entire marriage that coriolanus had shown even a shred of weakness. “you smile, you obey, you take my transgressions like they’re fucking sweets. why?! tell me!”

your big, round eyes were blown wide as your brow was knitted together. your lips were parted in an innocent manner, and it only fueled his anger. one of your hands came up to gently lay across the back of his. “coriolanus — have you ever considered that i just wanted to get to know you?”

his eyes searched yours like they were an important document and he couldn’t believe what bullshit he was reading. his lips pursed in a manner that suggested a sour taste, and you felt your joy slipping, slipping, and slipping.

“coriolanus — if you want to go, then go.” your voice was breaking. you knew he was a cool, hard man — but this? this? it was almost too much. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t —“

he couldn’t take your nonsense anymore. he shut you up with a kiss.

he smashed your lips together like it was the first thing he should’ve done when he walked back into the room. a squeal died in your throat at the contact, but coriolanus held you there and upright. both of your hands found the firmness of his chest for balance. when he pulled away — he barely did. he kept his lips an inch away from yours as little tuffs of air pushed past. he leaned his forehead against yours, almost bonding the two of you.

“my greatest displeasure will be making you regret this,” he rasped, eyes screwed shut.

your breathing began to hasten as you contemplated your next words. you began to stroke coriolanus’ hands with your thumbs, hoping to coax him. “you say that like it’s inevitable.”

“it is not far from,” he choked through anger and sadness.

you couldn’t help but stare back at him as he almost glared at you — but then you realized that wasn’t the case. he wasn’t glaring at you — he was glaring through you. whatever traumatized him, whatever made him so distrustful of the world around him and the people in it… you realized then that you represented all of that to him. you had to be different. you had to show him that you were different than all of that.

“i’ve trusted you,” you whispered, almost pleading. “i would like for you to try and trust me. please, coriolanus… i’ve never asked you for anything — just this once —“

coriolanus shook his head, dismissing you. “it’s corio.”

he slammed his lips to yours. his kiss was that of a fight; burning with every cut of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness in his soul. you weren’t sure if he accounted for your inexperience, but you let him lead as you swallowed all of his suffering. you knew you may never be everything you wanted to be for him — but for this moment, or for whatever he would allow — you could be his escape, and he could be yours.

just this once, you both thought. just this once.

his hands were on both sides of your face, caging you in as you were at the mercy of his bittersweet affection. you tried to keep up with him, almost afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him — but corio didn’t care. he couldn’t have cared less as he backed you into the foot of the bed. he didn’t stop kissing you as the back of your legs hit your soft mattress, and you were forced to sit down.

with his tongue tangling with yours, you managed to lift your hands to the top buttons of his shirt. he batted your hands away and went to work on his own buttons. you reached behind for your zipper to your dress and attempted to undue it.

corio then pushed your hands away with that too — ripping the zipper down its track and pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.

“corio —“ you gasped through the kiss, struggling to keep up with him.

he pulled away for a short moment, staring into your eyes. “i have denied myself being with you for so long — nothing is stopping me now.”

he held the glare, and you could only stare back at him in fright. however, that was when you realized that he had felt the same way, or at least similar — you both wanted each other, and had been scared to approach the other. your heart filled with warmth, threatening to explode, but all you could do was nod.

he seemed to calm down then, glancing down towards your lips where he prodded your bottom lip with the tip of his numb. “i have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss my perfect wife — and now that i know, i don’t think i’ll ever give it up.”

you smiled at that. “can i tell you what i have been wondering?”

his eyes met yours once more, almost a warning. you didn’t falter, though. he replied, “yes?”

“i’ve wondered what it would be like to please you,” you spoke softly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks.

his flat look broke then, softening. a smirk greeted his features and you could see his confidence in himself rise. “my lovely wife wants to please me?”

“yes,” you spoke, holding your breath. “if you’ll let me.”

bright and striking, flames of mischief came to light in his irises. emotions of excitement and fear rose within you, and you weren’t sure which was stronger. all you could do was watch as your strong, powerful, larger than life husband stood over you, chin raised, looking down his nose at you, as he unbuckled his belt. his pants and briefs, once around his ankles, were discarded — but you didn’t see that. you couldn’t look away from his eyes — holding you, and your gaze, in place.

it was like you were an enemy he was testing. you didn’t know what he expected, let alone what would make him happy — but you hoped his expectations were slightly lower in light of your inexperience. you swallowed the hard rock of nervousness in your throat, stood up, and gestured for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. he raised an eyebrow at you, but complied. you sat down on your knees in between his, and waited patiently for direction.

“can you…” you began. “can you teach me?”

he smirked once more. “take me in your hand.”

you bent your head lower, and grabbed him by the base. he was hard and warm in your hand as you saw him trying to fight the twitching feeling in his limbs. his muscles were tight, afraid to show weakness. you grew uncomfortable — you didn’t want him weak, but you did want him to feel comfortable enough with you to enjoy a fucking blowjob.

holding his muscle upright, you stuck your tongue out and licked around the tip of his cock. he was salty, but smelled so masculine after a long day. his scent infiltrated all of your senses and had captured your attention. it made you hungry, greedy — so much so that you closed your lips around his cock and began to suck.

he jumped then. “teeth,” he spat.

you paled in embarrassment and fright — but didn’t allow your fear to show for long. you adjusted your tongue and lips — so that your top lip was folded under your top set, and your outstretched tongue covered your bottom set. hollowing out your cheeks, you took him into your mouth once more.

a low hum filled his chest.

you couldn’t see him, and could barely hear him — corio was being a selfish lover and not letting you know whether or not he was enjoying himself. he told you once before you were doing something wrong, so you tried to trust that he would tell you.

that was easier said than done, frankly. with your free hand, you reached up and began to massage his sack in the soft skin of your palm. the hum in his chest turned deeper and louder, and you felt his hips twitch once.

maybe it shouldn't have mattered that he wasn't vocal — but it wasn't like he was shy. you would not fault him for not doing something he didn't want to do, but it was like he was denying you that. if you were making him feel good, and he was fighting the volume of his moans — how fucking dare he deny you of that! there you were, constantly at his beck and call, and he couldn't even freely moan with you? you were obedient, quiet, grateful, everything he wanted — but this? this? too much. absolutely too much of an ask.

you had to do something.

"mr. president," you cooed, twisting your soft tongue around the tip of his cock. "you're awfully quiet above me."

he let out a laugh as he struggled to keep his composure. one of hands found the back of your head as his fingers struggled to tangle themselves in between your strands. they were tugging and pulling, but there was no strength in his grip. his grip — wouldn't catch. couldn't catch. corio, you husband — struggled day in and day out to keep the control in the capital and inside his castle. there was a part of you that believed he just needed to let go, let someone else be in control — but you were his pretty little wife after all. you had until death to try everything. losing control could wait, because tonight... tonight was about making corio the grateful one for once.

you let your loose grip run circles up and down the length of his cock. his shaft was wet and thick, begging the attention of the light from above so the skin was able to glisten. the tip of his cock, red and angry, almost neglected — never had you seen something so delicious, nor deserving of affection. your lips, swollen, wrapped themselves around the tip of his cock as you sucked. notes of salt and sweat mixed together on your tongue, and you hummed at the taste.

"taste sweet, mrs. snow?" you heard from above you. your eyes glanced up to find corio's eyes glazed over with pleasure. his eyelids were drooping over, and all you could think about how badly you wanted to make him close his eyes in bliss. your eyes watched his eyes, but his eyes watched the way your mouth sucked him in. "being so good for me. let your husband see what else you can do."

your ears perked in interest. you didn't know what he meant, but you were intrigued to see if he would teach you.

"please... show me what you like," you spoke, extending your neck as he lowered his face to yours.

"so eager to please..." he spoke, staring down at you in awe. his hand slid down for your scalp to cup your cheek. he looked into your eyes like he was studying you — searching for something surface level. a flaw, or something good... you weren't sure. "i suppose some would say i'm lucky."

you didn't like the sound of that... but you didn't let it show. you gave him a hint of a smile. "i don't think it matters what anyone else thinks. i think what matters is you telling me what you like... so you can decide if you're lucky or not."

he chuckled at that, but his laugh was reserved. always holding back, your husband. "you really want to be a good little wife for me... don't you?"

you fell into the strength behind the hand on your face and keened into his touch. his hand was warm against your skin. "please, corio... please let me."

he stood then, and your gaze raised with his body. you gazed up at him as he stared down at you. there his eyes went again — searching yours. he stood closer to you then, bending down slightly. "it would please me if, at any point, you told me to stop because of the pain. i don't want to hurt you." his voice was low and soft then, immediately striking you. "can i trust you to do that? hmm?"

"i'll tell you," you replied, nodding your head. "i promise."

"never break a promise you make to me," he warned.

you nodded your head once more, unsure how to proceed. he led you over to the side of the bed where he gestured for your to lie down. with the passing of time, you became more and more aware of how bare you both were in front of each other. you were ready to let down every fence of insecurity for the man before you... but there were still walls of his that threatened to come down. he was hot and cold every other moment, it seemed... and you weren’t even sure where to begin.

“husband,” you spoke, unsteadily, as he found his place between his legs. “you seem so… distrustful of me. what can i do? please, corio, i just want this moment to be special for us — for you.”

there his eyes went — searching yours again. it was like he was rereading a page in a book over and over, hoping to find the hidden message in the black and white scripture. his eyes, going back and forth, appeared to be looking over unclear smudges and scribbles as his lips began to purse. you almost said something — stopped him from withdrawing into himself, but he moved before you could.

he sat back against the pillows, which faced a mirror across your bed. you rose curiously, hoping that he would finally give you some direction. he simply took your hand in his, and gestured for you to come closer. “come,” he spoke.

in his lap, maybe? you thought curiously. you went to throw your leg over his, before he stopped you. with a furrowed brow, you watched as he adjusted you so your back laid against his chest.

“do as i say,” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers up and down your spine.

your eyes were cast to the side, his outline in your peripheral vision. you nodded, letting your lips fall apart. you felt one of his hands on the soft skin of your thigh, grazing upwards towards your hips. you almost let your eyes fall closed, hoping to lose yourself in the sensations, before corio stopped you.

with that same hand, he reached upwards and grasped your chin between his fingers. your eyes shot open as he moved your head to now face the mirror, and the pair of you in it.

shallow breaths were pushing past your lips as you stared into the mirror. your cheeks were flushed, your hair in a slight disarray, and your lips were swollen. with a flutter of your eyelashes, your gaze flickered towards corio’s reflection. your husband was always perfect — so even the slight persuasion from tidiness was a remarkable sight to you. his eyes were focused — unable to remain cool, calm, and collected as usual.

his eyes, you thought. his eyes will always tell me.

“you will watch,” corio spoke suddenly, voice hard. “you will keep your eyes on my hands. you stray, and i leave. understand?”

you nodded, looking into his eyes through the mirror.

he cocked an eyebrow.

“yes,” you spoke, almost breathless. “i understand.”

corio’s hand then found its way to your center. the tips of his finger tips, soft and hot, lightly drew a line up and down your slit. your eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror — focused on his fingertips. it was like your skin knew every correct button to tap, tap, tap. every part of you was so sensitive, so keen to his touch that you were embarrassed. you felt so pathetic against his chest, bent to his will — but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. the voice in your head was whining and hoping you would give in, just give in, let down your guard, give in, forget manners. you wanted to keep your composure as long as possible, but when corio’s middle finger found your clit…

oh… you were done for.

one of your hands immediately snapped up to find corio’s bicep and clutch onto whatever foundation he could give. you didn’t dare let your eyes meet his, even in the mirror — what if he stopped? what, huh? what then? when you were the closest you had been ever? you couldn’t allow yourself to be greedy, not when he was being oh, so selfless.

the circles he was drawing taunted your ability remain calm. he rolled your tiny clit underneath the weight of the tip of his finger and pressed down with every circle. it pushed, and pulled, and fucking pried at every fiber of your being. you could only force yourself up and back against corio, whining like a pathetic mess.

“running away from me, my sweet?” he whispered in your ear. “when i’m being so kind?”

his words bit at your ear, reminding you of your position in his world. your eyes were threatening to drift closed, hoping, praying, that corio would let you slip this once from your responsibilities. naive, you were, to believe that.

“remember our deal, wife,” he darkly cooed in your ear. “one request was all i had. i refuse to be denied it.”

“i know, i know…” you whined, rolling your hips with his hand. “it just feels so good, corio… i’ve never… no one’s ever…”

“i can tell you never knew how bad your body would crave it,” he spoke, nipping at your earlobe. “even your pussy obeys me, drenching my fingers. too sweet for this world, aren’t you?”

“just wanna be sweet for you, corio,” you whined as your vision began to blur.

the approaching orgasm was anything but a warm and fuzzy feeling around you. it was hot and jagged — making your muscles jerk, yet force your hips to roll into every movement of corio’s. the cloud over your brain felt like a warm haze of the finest whisky or tobacco the capital could offer. you were numb, drunk, and unable to process the world around you unless it was corio. his touch, his taste, his scent, his look, his orders… everything was setting you off and keeping you in place all at once. your body was hot to the touch, feverish as it tried to fight your sophistication and just fucking —

“that’s it, sweetheart. so focused on the mirror you can’t even find the strength to let go for me,” he spat, pressing a kiss to your cheek and breathing in your scent. “ride my hand like the good girl you are. you wanted to show me, remember?”

tears were brimming your eyes and blurring your vision. your teeth were gritted and bared for him. one of his hands came up to loosely grasp your throat as your hips began to spasm. it was so much, too much, so much —

“corio, please —“ you cried. “please let me look away. i can’t — i have to cry, i can’t —“

there was no softness in his movements against your aching clit. corio had now employed two fingers to dip into your core, collect your slick, and rub it along your sensitive bud in harsh circles. it sent your mind through a suffocating tube and gasping for air. you were begging, pleading — unsure what would happen if you were denied the ability to finish in peace. you began to cry in frustration and fear, so sensitive to the touch and his approval.

“corio…” you whimpered. “please, please let me…”

“do it,” he spat, holding your throat and kissing your face. “show your husband how fucking messy you can be for him.”

you grasped onto him and threw yourself back.

it was like a rollercoaster. twists and turns, yanking your body every which way. corio’s body rocked with yours as the sensations climbed and fit into every single one of your limbs. your lungs, burning, were screaming for air as you tried to fight for consciousness. the world was white, milky, foggy — unable to navigate, let alone exist in. all you could feel was corio’s body moving with yours and coaxing you through the most insane moment of your entire life.

tears fell down your face, and you struggled to conceal it. corio refused to let you hide from him. he bent his face low to yours and pressed the side of his face against the side of yours.

his breaths were heavy, similar to yours.

“corio…” you whimpered, almost whining.

“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed. “so good for me, weren’t you? asking so obediently and politely.”

you nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “i’m sorry that i was —“

“what’re you sorry for?” he demanded.

you clenched your jaw. “i was — i am — i’m worried i was too much — i was so — out of control —“

he shut you up with a kiss. coriolanus snow refused to allow you to continue, or else he knew he would be offended if he had let you finished.

“i wanted that,” he stated. “every bit of that. what, you don’t find it agonizing to be prim and fucking proper every day?”

you laughed uneasily, a bit spooked by his outburst of aggression. “i thought you — i thought that was what you wanted from me.”

he shook his head. “out there — it’s necessary. in here, when it’s only the two of us? don’t ever hide yourself from me. you must promise.”

you swallowed as your haze began to disappear. “only if you promise the same."

you saw his jaw pulse from the corner of your eye. “i promise.”

“i promise,” you returned.

you quickly reconnected your lips. you couldn't let the moment slip away. you needed to seize him while he was there — trusting you for the first time in your entire relationship. you found both of your hands on the side of his face and held him to you. corio fought for control, but you gave in immediately. the need for him to need you was stronger and more satisfying that anything else you could've experienced in that moment. you turned around, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the bed.

everything you were doing was improper: grabbing your husband, forcibly kissing him, sitting in his lap, pushing him down... you almost stopped. you almost gave into the insecurity and made friends with with meekness and shyness once more. however, you made a promise — and you intended to keep it.

"i want you inside me, corio," you whispered against his lips. "please, i want to feel you —"

"again, sweetheart?" he ripped himself from your lips to grunt out his teasing. "one taste, and you're addicted?"

you hummed approval against his lips, tangling your tongue with his. with one hand on the back of your head, holding your face to his, corio's other hand fished between the pair of you and grasped his leaking cock in his hand. the tip was red and swollen, aching for some stimulation or attention. he spread his precum over his tip and with a firm hand, corio slid his cock inside of you.

you arched your back away from corio. the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside of you bent your attention in every which was. both of your hands cradled the back of his head into your chest, where he found himself nestled between your breasts. his breaths were hot and heavy, moist against your skin. his swollen lips found one of your perky nipples and sucked it into his mouth, caving to his primal urges. coriolanus snow wanted every part of you for himself, and needed to place that claim on every part of your body. he wanted your thighs to shake and ache from being locked around him, your fingers to tremble from your hard grip, and he wanted your lips to be bruised from how hard he made you bite them. and, most of all, he wanted every loud moan to rip itself from your aching throat and fill the perfectly painted walls of this damned room.

he cursed you when you threw a hand over your mouth, and he immediately ripped it away. "don't you fucking dare," he spat.

you ignored him. he was your husband, and he was the scariest man you would ever meet, and yet you ignored him. most of all, your hips ignored him. they began to roll against his own the best they could for their inexperience. up, down, and grinding down was the best they could manage before corio grabbed you by the flesh of your hips and moved you to his liking. and when your mouth parted and a loud cry made your throat shake when he twisted your hips forward, he knew he found the spot.

"do not ever deny me what i am owed," he spat, fucking into that spot that wrapped a tight band around your abdomen. "i want to hear how good i am making you feel, and i will. i get to hear. those are mine. i am owed those."

again, you ignored him. what did he expect when your eyes began to roll back into your head and you began to match his pace? you were close, you were so, so close...

that was when corio grabbed you by the chin, refusing to let up his pace. his eyes were full of darkness, yet focus. like he had found his prey. you tried to focus, tried to give him the respect the deserved... but you couldn't. your mind was swimming, and your arching cunt was dripping down his length and onto the skin of his pelvis. you were lost. so fucking lost.

"yours, corio!" you whined. "all yours. only yours."

his voice was gruff against your lips as his thrust became rougher. "say it again."

your eyes began to drift closed as you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips against his. his cock had found its way to the most sensitive and purest part of you and ripped down every wall you had. you sobbed, "yours, corio. only yours."

corio threw you off of him and your back hit the bed. he was on top of you in an instant. he threw your legs up and pressed them against your chest. with your ankles on his shoulders, he pushed himself inside of you and began to relentlessly punish your perfect fucking pussy.

"mine, you got that?" he spat against your ear. "i have watched you, day after day, put on this fucking act! perfect and proper — but i made a proper whore out of the most desirable woman in the capital, didn't i? and now she's mine — forever warming my bed."

"forever, corio," you whined. your sobs were music to his ears, going straight to his cock. your cunt was raw from the friction and slick, unsure if corio should stop or keep going — but you didn't let him guess. "inside me, corio, please... want it to bad. been so good for you..."

his hand was around your throat and demanding your attention. "as if i'd waste a drop when every man in the capital would be able to see you round with my child. you want that wife? my seed, my child? you want to be fully claimed by me?"

"yes," you cried, tears falling down your cheeks. "give it to me, husband, please —"

corio reached down in between your hips and rubbed your clit with whatever energy he had left. his thrust were growing sloppy, but his movements against your swollen bud were worse. he was hissing in your ear as he continued the assault against you. your moans were loud as they escaped your lips and filled the room, setting corio's skin on fire. sweat dripped down from his brow and down his neck to mingle with yours as your second orgasm of the evening began to approach. it snapped the rubber band in your lower belly and you immediately sobbed into corio's neck. his hips continued to rut in you, forcing you down onto the bed as he swallowed all of your sobs for himself. your nails dug into his back and down his spine, hoping to rip parts from him that he had taken from you.

when corio came, you were in a stupor. cock drunk with your mouth hanging open, dazed. when corio came, one of his hands grabbed your messy pile of hair, wrenching at the roots. he pulled you to the side to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as he pumped your cunt full of his cum. your walls were hot and sticky, full of him, but it only caused the most sickeningly warm feeling to spread throughout you. every primal need of yours was satisfied, and corio could see every bit of it on your face. the pride that welled within your husband... shameful. no man should be in possession of such an ego boost like making the prettiest, more desired woman in all of panem break from all bounds of social etiquette. you were warm, and wet, and craving every bit of his touch, so he couldn't deny you... not anymore. not when he felt the same. with each sob that left your mouth, he felt a kick in the pit of his stomach as his balls throbbed. never in his life had a woman ripped from him what he had taken from her, cheeks hot and muscles worn out.

he would regret it in the morning, maybe, but not now. no — not now.

"husband, forgive me, but..." you spoke. "my mind is a mess. i don't think i can read to you this evening."

corio rolled his eyes and laughed. "that good?"

you pressed a kiss to his lips as you hummed in approval. "never wait that long to bed your wife again."

he chuckled darkly. "watch it, sweetheart."

---

love u guys sm sorry it was so long ty for reading love u love u love u

-L xooxoxooxox

#corio smut #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow smut #corio snow smut #corio fic #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #corio snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus fic #coriolanus imagine #corio imagine #the hunger games #lucy gray #sejanus plinth #young coriolanus snow

9K notes · View notes

unknownmads · 6 months

Text

CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT INMATE TOJI AND CUTE LITTLE Y/N WHOS SO NAIVE TO BIG BAD TOJI

CW: Slight smut (mentions of his pp🤭)

☆☆☆

thinking about Prison toji who you met when your college has you do a little project in your criminal psychology class. The project was make a penpal get to know them ask why they are in prision, what their lives before was like, do they regret what they did etc. basic questions of course all you had to do was get the most information out of the penpal about their personal lives as you could.

Prison Toji who only signed up for the program because it was part of his latest court order saying he ‘needed more understanding’ so a penpal would give him a friend while they stay safe😭 he ofc hated the idea and thought it was the dumbest shit ever. until he got his first letter, from you (duh).

Prison toji who got mail for the first time and it was a little white envelope with a cute little sticker sealing it. He deadpanned *is my penpal an idiot these letters are for a prison not a daycare* he silently judges examining every detail as he opened the letter. i read the letter taking in every little personal detail you shared with him, your cute little name, how you loved your cat, how you’re new to the city only just moving for school, of course the boring questions for him as well. But at the very end of the letter he noticed an extra little note.

Ps. i left a few photos of myself along with some of my cat! i think it’s only fair since i got to see your photo on the website

Prison toji who grabs the envelope he previously had thrown to the side and pulls out 3 polaroids. One of you and probably your cat you’re dragging it into the photo with a big grin on your face. the second is a photo of your face a soft smile on your lips meant for whoever took the photo but Toji couldn’t help but wonder if that little smile was for him. Until he pulls out the third photo it’s a full view of you, you’re out in the city dressed all out, and Toji couldn’t help but know you chose that photo just for him.

Prison Toji who can’t wait to finally get some alone time so he can truly appreciate your pretty photos. And immediately goes to write you back answering all your cute little questions. Telling you where he lived before, how he ended up there, telling you what he did for work before (Surprise he sold drugs😍), telling you what he does to occupy his time here (he works out he just wanted an excuse to tell you how strong he is), and he asks you some questions.

Prison Toji who has been relentlessly flirting with since you started writing to him, asking if you had a boyfriend, how your school was going, why you moved to the city, how a cute lil thing like you is still single. You had been writing each other for a few weeks now which is a lot less than you think when you know how long mail takes. But your letters to each other are long. answering every little thing each other asks, learning about one another more and more. You had really connected so you finally ask him the big question he read the words as clear as day.

~Do you think i could come pay you a visit? ~

Prison Toji who had to immediately write back answering the most important question first.

~ And doll, you can come visit me anytime id love to finally meet you and see your pretty face in person~

he wanted to be nonchalant.

Prison Toji who was sitting in bed looking at your photos when he was called

“Zenin, you’ve got a visitor. away from the door.”

Prison Toji silently followed standing on the other side of the cell while the guard came in to handcuff him and bring him to the visiting area. Once he was in the room his cuffs connecting him to the table he waited. until he heard the door open again. He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he saw the guard guide you in. You were wide eyed taking in the new environment until they landed on him.

Prison Toji was large, you knew he was tall and muscular thanks to his letters and photo but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal. Eyes widening even more when you fully take him in. seated At the grey metal table his hands on the table as the guard had told him to. his hair poking at his eyes which were staring drinking you in. his lip in a smirk helping you notice the scar on it which you couldn’t really see from the grainy prison photos. His shirt stretched against his muscles showing off a few tattoos hidden along his skin. the view making you squeeze your thighs together to release some of the pressure building.

Prison Toji who took in as much of you as he could as he watched you shuffle into your seat across from him, enjoying how you squirmed slightly within his gaze, his smirk growing into an almost full smile.

“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”

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luveline · 1 month

Text

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

You and Spencer finally find time for your first time. 6k

fem, afab!reader, mostly confident!reader, foreplay, oral sex, p in v sex, lovey dovey tender loser sex, established relationship, pet names, aftercare, requested here <3

cw for smut, minors do not read or interact, 18+ content

˗ˋˏ ʚ♡ɞ ˎˊ˗

“Can you stay still?”

“No,” you answer honestly.

Spencer climbs further toward you on the bed. “I’m trying to help. You’re no good at buttons.”

You’re no good at buttons because your fingers shake whenever you and Spencer get close like this, and with these intentions. You’d always thought he’d be the shy one —sometimes you take his hand in the back of the work car to watch his cheeks go a rosy, unignorable pink. He’s the more introverted of the two of you and he always has been, so why does his touch have you trembling already?

Excitement, you decide, heart in your mouth as his fingers begin to pop your buttons through each matching slit. This is exactly what happened last time you and Spencer tried (and were sorely interrupted). You’d been out of breath and in his lap, too excited to see to his buttons, too busy kissing him to take much notice as he’d taken care of them himself. And then work called, your plans were cancelled, and he’d promised you that you’d get to do this soon.

“I’m good at buttons,” you deny, leaning back on the palms of your hands as his pinky’s brush up, the sides of your shirt falling open.

“Oh, you’re back,” he says. He’s teasing in bed. You aren’t expecting it. “You went somewhere else for a few seconds, you okay?” That’s less teasing, more sweet.

His hands pause just under where your bra begins.

You take a breath. “I’m okay, I’m thinking about last time.”

He leans in for a kiss, a quick but steady catching that has your face following him as he pulls away again, and undoes your next button. “Which part?”

The part where he’d insisted you’d be laying down for this. The memory alone inspires heat, pleasure and wanting from the depth of your chest, your stomach, ever lower.

“Did you lock your door?” you ask.

Your phones are off. The door is locked. Spencer promises as much in your ear as leans in closer to you, crawls that last few inches of space to have your legs tangled atop his white sheets, his hand disappearing under the open sides of your shirt. The other hand works the last few buttons, but you don’t get to watch him do it, distracted by his fingers hot on the small of your back and his lips as he pulls you in tight for another kiss.

This one’s slow. He holds you like he’s worried you’re gonna slip out of his arm where it curls behind you, cool air kissing your chest as he gets the last button by your neck and encourages either side away from you. You lean into him and shake your shirt down the lengths of your arms, finally shirtless in front of him again after days of trying. You try to keep up with his kissing, he’s intense, he’s everywhere, but you run out of breath.

“Oh,” you say uselessly, your cheek against his as he kisses your jaw.

“What, angel?” he asks, breath warm to your skin, “What’s up?”

“Nothing… I wore my nice bra for you.”

“You did?” He promptly pulls away. His face is pinking, but it’s so warm you can’t blame him for it. You’re sure he’d feel a furnace under your skin if he touched your forehead. Spencer’s gaze falls down to your chest, where it stays, his own rising and falling with a noticeable sharpness. “That’s pretty. You’re pretty.” He swallows as he looks up. “Your nice bra? Just one?”

You cover a breast with your hand and push it up ever so slightly. “This is the one I thought you’d like most. You like blue.”

“I love blue. I love you, I love you,” he says, leaning around you to move your discarded shirt to the floor. “Can I take it off?”

You nod with a stupid smile. Fond and too eager. “Please.”

“How many tries do I get?” he asks, grabbing your sides in two gentle hands, pulling you forward into a hug as he reaches behind you for the clasp.

“You can do it one,” you promise, voice a murmur now he’s close to you.

You let your hands rest on his hips as he pinches the clasp and pushes it together. Like magic, it comes apart. Spencer holds the unclasped sides to your naked back for a few seconds, his breath loud in your ear, before he sits back to look at you.

You push the straps of your bra down, let the support of your bra fall away. You ball it up in your lap, sitting there bare-chested and smiling, waiting, hoping you’re as beautiful to him as he’s always made you feel.

His hand climbs your arm. “You’re beautiful,” he says, “can I–”

“Yeah, please. Please.”

His thumb rubs a short line from your navel to the skin just below your breast. Your chest feels suddenly heavy, the half-lidded set of his eyes on you like a weight, but it’s one you realise you like as he rubs the indent of your bra. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his thumb pressing into the underside of your breast, kind but undeniably there, and your body reacts to his touch, which is another thing. He doesn’t coo, but it’s close. “How does that feel?” he asks quietly, drawing under your nipple with his thumb.

“Can you kiss me some more?” you ask, breathless in a way that’s almost painful.

Spencer clutches you by your sides, unafraid to play with you, pressing you down into the bed as his hands traverse up. You shuffle back into the pillows and let your eyes shutter closed, his nose pressing hard into yours as your lips meet again. He kisses hungrily. He’s treated you to a few heavy kisses in the past, nothing compares now to the open crescent of his lips and the feeling of his hands. His tongue is hot where it touches your lips, wading in. You sigh into his mouth and feel his own sigh in return as he breaks it.

“Fuck,” he says, his breath coloured by pleasure. He’s practically moaning in your ear as a big hand squeezes your chest.

You can’t take this. You lift your hips and graze against him, rushing to reach down and slip your skirt over the curve of your ass and over stocking clad thighs. You try to push them along at the same time, breathing hard.

Spencer notices what you’re doing and reaches to help.

“Your shirt,” you argue, faces close, his confusion an inch away, as are his pinked lips, “take your shirt off, Spencer, I can do this myself.”

“But why should you have to?” he says, though he listens, making quick work of his button up.

You kick your stockings off of your feet and lay there, warm, overwhelmed but desperate at once, watching him on his knees as he manages his last button and peels out of his shirt. You cross your legs tightly against the achy heat blooming in your cunt, uncharacteristically shy.

His chest is pale, without a freckle nor beauty mark, but he’s shapely. You've kissed him so much these last few months, traced the hills and rigid muscle of his front with an adoring hand under his clothes, but the two of you being similarly bared is different.

It’s worse when he reaches for the button of his slacks.

You bite your lip. “Spencer, can I do it?”

“Yeah.” He swallows again. “Of course you can. Don’t ask me.”

He’s getting warm, curls of his hair falling into his eyes, his breath a constant huff. The bulge of him through his slacks draws your attention. You crawl toward him where he’s kneeling, checking his face. When he nods, you rub the very pad of your thumb against the line of his cock, feel it jump at your touch. Your heart jumps in a similar place.

“This okay?” you whisper, your touch light enough that you’re surprised he can feel it.

“Please.” He says your name like you’ve hurt him. “Please. Take them off.”

“I can’t believe you’re like that just from kissing me,” you say sincerely, a mumble as you pop the button and dig your fingertip under the zipper, which you pull down in one smooth line. There’s an immediate release of pressure against his cock. You blink. It’s so warm in here. “Spence, can I–”

“Please.”

You nod to yourself and shift onto one elbow, shocked and even warmer when Spencer plumps a pillow behind you. Your anticipation is an ache that won’t ebb, hands trembling again as you pull the band of his pants down his hips and expose a pair of white and blue boxer briefs. A darkened patch of material rests against the tip of his cock, the curve of him ever harder as you touch him.

He sucks in air through his teeth.

“Aw, Spence,” you say, pressing the length of your thumb to his cock and breathing out as you ride the curve of him up to that wet spot. “Sweetheart… Does that feel good?”

He closes his hand on top of yours and holds you there. “Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“I think I gotta kiss you first,” you say, eyes on his straining boxers. “Think you might need one.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t. I’ll ruin everything before we’ve even started, you can’t kiss me like that.”

“Are you sure? I can make sure you’re ready.”

You’d never force him into anything. You’re letting him know it’s alright. You’re not gonna push him over the edge before he’s done, you just wanna do all the stuff with him that you’ve been dreaming about for a while now. You have a feeling he might enjoy it.

“You can tell me to stop whenever you need me to,” you say softly, feeling his cock twitch in your hand at the mere sound of your voice. “I wanna see you.”

He laughs infectiously, almost drunkenly, the two of you giggling as he shifts your hands. He doesn’t say anything more, only moves your hands down over the softer base of his cock to encourage his pants out of the way, and then his boxers.

His cock is pretty like he is as he pulls it out. You knew it would be. A little taller than your hand, he tugs it toward his stomach and you watch in delight as a string of precum catches the light, wetting his palm.

You’re patient. He lets it stand without help and you curl your hand where his had been at the base, his cock shining in lines, that welling of precum spread messily around and worse when you give a soft pump. “Oh my god,” he mumbles, shuffling closer to you on his knees, his hand leaping to your shoulder. “Oh, god.”

You tilt your head. “How’s that, baby?”

“Please, angel.”

You lean in for a kiss.

Just a kiss, but your lips part, your spit ready on your tongue and slick in a heavy line up the side of his cock. All you can think of in that moment is how much you want him, how gentle his hand is on your shoulder despite the wounded little breath he lets out, and the stickying feeling of wetness that grows between your thighs, your underwear damp at the very centre and clinging to you as you crawl as close to his front as you can get. You kiss and kiss up the side of him, not silly enough to love on his most sensitive skin at the head, not after his warning, though the idea of his cock shuddering against your lips and tongue makes you squeeze your eyes closed.

You kiss shy of his tip and tilt your head back to look at him. He’s already watching you, squinting with a palpable agony.

“Are you okay? Is that alright?” you ask, loosening your grip on his cock to draw a loving, sweet line down, and down.

He catches your wrist. “You can’t do that again,” he warns gently, hint of a smile in his eyes. You beam at him adoringly. “Lay back? There’s something in my way.”

“In your way,” you murmur through a smile, laying back in the pillows as he’s asked you.

Spencer sheds his slacks and boxers. You pull your legs up to give him room to kneel on the bed by your legs, pulse like a constant humming ache against your cunt as he takes your calves into his hands and presses your knees together. “You’re not gonna say please like I did, are you?” he asks.

“Do you need me to?” you ask, teasing him with your own hand, letting it travel from the base of your throat and over a tightened breast to your stomach, then your underwear. You flick the waistband. His eyelashes flare. “I can say please, Spence, I’d love to say please for you. Is that what you want me to do?”

“I don’t ever want you to say please, you know that.” He encourages one leg flat to the bed. The other, he pushes up, fabric of your underwear tight to your warm cunt and heartbeat surely taking up station in your throat. “Maybe I can say please.” His hand coasts down your thigh. “Would you like that?”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t say please, or don’t touch you?” he asks, stopping his squeezing.

“Spencer!” you laugh, moving your hips ever so slightly, raising them in hopes of his understanding. “This is cruel, I didn’t tease you.”

“You’re nice,” he says, again pressing your leg up toward your stomach, eyes on the bump of your cunt as he begins to lean down. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs, pressing a surprising kiss to your soft inner thigh. “So perfect.” Closer now, nose skirting toward the elastic of your underwear. “Please, can I?”

You press your shaky hand to your lips, palm out. “Please,” you say into your skin. “Yeah. Yes, you can. Can you?”

A kiss to the skin beside your cunt, his free hand riding up to squeeze the bump of it, his thumb pressing against wet heat, your breath caught. He rubs a line up from the wet to your clit, and he smiles when he finds it, though that smile is swiftly overtaken by parting lips as he kisses a mixture of skin and fabric and starts to suck. You hiccup at the feeling.

“You sound cute when you’re happy,” he says into your thigh. He turns his head slowly, looking up at you, his thumb rubbing almost absentmindedly at the sensitive little hood of your clit, your nerves all over the place. He’s giving you the puppy eyes, big and brown and in sickly love with you.

“Happy’s not the right word,” you breathe out.

“I should fix that, right?”

Your stomach does a hard flip. “Yeah.”

Spencer isn’t as timid about it as you’d imagined he’d be, his reality better than any fantasy, his hands kind but quick where twists his fingers into the waistband of your underwear as he begins pulling them down.

He lets out a long breath as the air kisses your cunt, his eyes trained obviously on one spot in particular as he takes your panties all the way to your feet. He rolls one leg off, leaves the other hanging at your ankle as he grabs the soft underside of your knee and encourages your leg up.

You can feel your cunt spread, feel the wetness that had been growing dribble from you. “Ah,” you say, more breath than word while he holds your leg in place. “Spencer–”

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, no, I just need you to touch me, please, I–”

He says your name, says, “Hey, don’t talk like that, I’ve got you, I’m gonna touch you, just needed to know you’re okay–”

“Spencer–” you squirm with wanting.

“I know,” he says, the tip of his cock turned impossibly red where it’s resting against the heaving of his abs, “trust me.”

He reaches for your abdomen, his palm resting lovingly on the pudge of your tummy. You squirm for it lower. “If you think I’m not gonna give you everything you want, you're crazy. When don’t you get your way?” He leans down, and to your relief, your little gasp of breath, he kisses your naked cunt. “When don’t I want to give it to you?” he asks into your skin.

Every word he says is heat and movement against the nerves that make up your clit. You practically shiver as he lets his lips part against you and kisses all over, unafraid to feel every little bit of you, his tongue pressed wet and flat your softest parts. You spread your legs in anticipation of him, his thank you a kiss that lights up every nerve ending you have that stems from your hips, the breath racing out of you and moans not far behind. He rubs the length of your leg, his fingers trailing towards his kissing. The hand that isn’t up to something just loves on your skin. The hand that is pauses shy of your cunt’s wet hole —you can’t help letting out a choked moan as he sucks on your clit and the skin around it, sudden, the feeling of hot slick dripping from you worse as he pulls away with a quiet pop.

His lips shine in the lamplight. “I’m gonna start getting you ready, okay?” he asks, a small smile somewhere in the midst of a gaze that’s otherwise laden with lust. His fingertips tease your entrance. “What do you think, angel, can I do that?”

You might need a kiss to get through it. You can’t decide whether you want him to keep eating you out like that, like you’re water to the famished, like he’s worried he’s not quick enough to get every bit of you where he wants it, but you’re so desperate to be fucked by him that you can feel it in the pit of your stomach. “Spencer, you need to kiss me,” you decide.

“I am–”

“No, come here. Need you on top of me. You can get me ready,” you agree, eyes peculiarly damp, “but I really wanna kiss you right now, baby, please, please–”

He’s on top of you by your second please. You gasp at the rigidity of his cock pressing to your cunt and find it lost in his mouth, his fingertips wet with sex pressed to the side of your face. He remembers himself, kisses all the same but hand moving down again, turning his weight onto the bed and off of you as he feels at your cunt. His fingers slide through hair and wetness alike to tease at your cunt. You can feel wet on his fingers as he pushes in just a centimetre, again on his thumb when he circles your heat carefully, and all the while he’s kissing you like he’s been starved of you. He’s saying angel and so pretty against your stinging mouth.

It’s strange when he pushes two fingers in, but not bad. You’ve never done this with one another, and it takes him a few careful thrusts of his fingers to figure out where he should be directing his motion, and what to do to make you happy. You nod into his mouth as he finds a sweet spot and presses into it, quirked fingers quick to the very last knuckle, his pinky and index fingers sliding without resistance against the wet mess on either side of your cunt. “There?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say, pulling his face closer to yours, your hands twined deep in his hair.

He digs around against your walls, to your abject joy and something else, some emotion you can’t name, the want to be touched everywhere by him, to be the kind of full of him where you can’t breathe.

He presses his fingers inside you, undulating against the gum of your walls, and groans into your lips as you pull in a shivery breath. His hips jerk hard, his cock sliding against your stomach hot as a brand.

Spencer pulls up. You’re in the throes of one another, but his eyes are clear. “How do you want it?” he asks tenderly. “Can I stay here, or should I move back?”

“Just to start, it’s always tight–” You catch your breath now he’s paused, stroking curls away from his flushed cheeks. “I’ll sit up a little and you can still hold my hand,” —he doesn’t question this even for a second— “just so you can see what you’re doing, and then–”

“It’s okay, we can work it out,” he interrupts. “I’m not gonna rush and hurt you.”

“I didn’t think you would,” you whisper, cupping his face in your hand.

He ducks in for a slow, chaste kiss.

“I know you didn’t,” Spencer says. He takes another kiss, pressing one to the top of your chin.

Then he’s shuffling backwards and off of you, and he’s grabbing your hips, lifting you up as he positions himself at your cunt. You shuffle back in the opposite direction to wedge yourself firmly in his pillows, knees up and heels either side of his lap as he moves in. His cock rubs against your cunt by accident, then quickly again with a deliberateness, like he’d felt you and couldn’t help himself.

“God, you’re so pretty,” he says. His eyebrows pinch together in a glare, his thumb pressing to your clit. There’s no purchase there anymore, your wetness having made its way up, but he rubs it nonetheless. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You grab his hand. Twine your fingers into his. “I love you, Spence,” you say easily. “Don’t be shy.”

He’s giving you that Can’t believe I’m with you look that he often does. It reminds you of the first time you met when you’d called him beautiful without knowing he’d mean this much to you one day, because he really was gorgeous, everything you’d ever want in a guy and lovelier after. You flirted your way into being his friend, and one day your hand-holding was hugging, your friendly cheek kissing turned to lazy hickeys, and he’s still giving you that look. Like he doesn’t deserve you. Like you’re gonna disappear.

You reach between your centre and his to nudge his hand down, guiding him into place. “Say you love me,” you request in a murmur.

“I love you,” he says, head of his cock against your opening. He abandons your clit, to your disappointment, but he’s grabbing the rump of your ass and hip to hold you in place.

He is achingly, achingly slow. He’s so gentle with his thrusts that you feel like you could love him twice as much as when you started, his wrinkled brow, his eyes flitting between your face and the stretch of your cunt to check on you as he goes. He reaches a natural resistance, nothing he couldn’t push past if he didn’t want to, but he doesn’t have to —he’s not fully sheathed and yet you’re aflame with pleasure. He’s at just the right angle. All he needs to do is move.

“There?” he asks softly,

“Please, right there.”

He pushes forward and a breath leaves his lips like you stole it. “You’re tight,” he says, “I knew you would be at first, but I didn’t expect– do I need to stop?”

“No, no, that’s the best part…” You close your eyes. If he weren’t holding your hand you’d cover your face. “Spence, it’s supposed to feel like this, baby. You just find the way you like it and I’ll tell you if it’s not right.”

“Promise?”

“Promise– oh.”

The fronts of his thighs press to yours, his cock flush to your walls and digging into something sweet and sensitive enough to make your thighs shake. Good luck, you think, for the two of you to fit together like this, for his cock to fill you without hurting or leaving you wanting, even though he’s just a little over half inside. He goes slow, almost repetitive, his thumb drawing dedicated half circles into the back of your hand where he’s securing it to your hip. Breathe, you think, I have to breathe. There’s nobody here but Spencer. You can show him exactly how this is making you feel.

“Fuck,” you say, letting out a little moan, worried it won’t be something he likes.

“Fuck,” he echoes emphatically, “does that feel good, angel?”

“Uh-huh,” you say. His chest shines with sweat, his cock driving in, all his touching and adoring drawing a litany of your most vulnerable sounds, hiccups and whimpers, beggy breaths that plead for him to do exactly what he’s doing until he can’t.

“Can you keep your leg up?” he asks.

“What?”

“Can you lift your leg, angel? I need my hand.”

You nod hurriedly and hold your leg aloft as he’d been, not pretzeled but giving him the room he needs to drive forward. He’s swift in his intention, pressing his free hand to your cunt, unabashed, marriage and middle finger slippery against the head of your clit and drawing precise circles. After a few timid thrusts of his hips, he matches speed. Every thrust met with a circle of your clit, his face dipping down to kiss your leg.

“There,” he says to your knee, “I got you, I’ll get you there.”

“I don’t wanna cum yet,” you confess.

“No, I know, but you have to feel good, I need to touch my girl.”

You don’t want to argue with that. He’s never said something like that.

He goes on. “You’re so pretty, I don’t know– I don’t–” He gives a tight smile, “don’t think you know how beautiful you are, you feel–” He moans, then, like he’s pleading.

You don’t expect to be close this soon. It had to be the way he’s talking to you, or his lazy mouthing at your cunt before you’d started. ��Wait! Wait, Spence, don’t,” —you grab his hand to stop him from drawing anymore circles— “I have to do it, or I’m gonna cum already.”

He says fuck, thrusts in just a little deeper than he had been, head of his cock kissing just the right place, “Show me how to do it the way you need it.”

You play on the edge of your orgasm for long, long minutes, your hand over Spencer’s drawing the smallest of circles, your nerves aching, the pressure of it like his hands pressed to your tummy. Spencer fucks you, fucks into you, ruts into you when you give him a flirty smile, angling his hips a touch to the side.

You usher him down to you, craning your head up to his. “Can I have a kiss?” you ask with a voice stretched to gossamer. You’re in love with him and you could cry for it as he fucks you, but you try not to. Not yet.

Spencer licks his lips. “You can have everything.”

He slows his thrusts to a drag. Slow drag out, full push in. His hips press to yours and you squeak as he fills you with every inch he has, his hands vying for your clammy face.

He can only thrust slowly from there, though it feels like it’s hitting somewhere new, if not deeper. Shifts of his hips against yours, a mess of slick between you and the friction of his skin. You kiss and pant into each others mouths, spit stretching like a string from his lip to yours that he promptly kisses away. It’s everything you needed it to be, and you can’t hold off much longer. “Wanna cum,” you tell him, stroking the skin under his eye, his gaze aligned with yours.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Can you– like before–”

Spencer understands. He sits back, drags you by the hips onto his cock, and set about fucking that dedicated pace, three fingers pressed to your clit. He goes as slowly as you showed him at first, and that in time with his thrusts sends a pleasure through you that makes you gasp. He speeds his hips at the same time as his fingers, your skin so wet that it requires dedication to wind the coil, but he does wind it, over and over and over again until your walls are rigid tight and your hips are working desperately to chase the feeling. He’s pushing you to the edge.

You cum, and your breath gets caught. You force out a breath and you keen in the feeling, covering your face with both hands as Spencer pushes you through it with a few last teasing circles and a couple of quick thrusts.

Spencer knows without asking to slow as you come down. You laugh into your hands.

He doesn’t quibble when you let your legs fall flat around him, only strokes your thigh, paused half inside of you to offer you one of his shy smiles. “You even sound pretty,” he says.

“You think so?”

“Of course I do.”

He takes a measured thrust. He’s not not confident these days, but you can see the man you adore now between your legs, in love with you but not sure what to do. “You can keep going, baby.”

“You sure?” he asks.

It’s gonna be intense, but you want that. “Come back,” you say, angling your tired legs around him. “Come lay on top of me… Please.”

It’ll be nice to hug him now. You whine as his cock slips out of you and again as he lays atop you and slides it back in, your cunt waiting for him and slick as anything as he settles.

“Is this too much?” he asks, cupping your cheek.

He rolls his hips demonstratively. You didn’t know there was anything left there to give him, but he can have it.

You wrap your arms around him, your forearms to the line of sweat on his back, and give him a hard hug. “You can have everything,” you utter, repeating his earlier promise to him with the same encapsulating love as you cling. “Fuck me however you want.”

When it starts again, chills ride up your spine. Spencer finds a place you didn’t know you had and fucks against it with love, so deep you feel like you can’t breathe, his nose rubbing harshly into your cheek. He squeezes your shoulders tight in his arms and you’re sure you’ll never catch your breath again, and you don’t want him to stop. You’ve never felt this close to him.

Your naked chest rises uselessly beneath him as you fall into the whining, pleading bit of sex, your moans half gasp and lost in his hair as he burrows his face into the pillow by your head to hide his same desperation.

“There you are,” he mumbles, hips grinding into yours. He must say your name ten times in a row, each one more frayed than the last, until he’s lost it completely.

“Go faster, sweetheart,” you suggest, squeezing his hips between your thighs.

Spencer begins again in earnest, nipping crescent moons into the curve of your neck, thrusting fast until he can’t. You hear him trip into cumming like it’s an accident, his thighs go all tense and his cock throbs as he presses you flat, flat to the bed.

He gives a last few greedy thrusts before he calms, though he doesn’t stop moving. Spencer rolls his hips for a slow, languishing minute.

His hand finds your shoulder. His face turns to yours as you turn yours to his, two halves of a good kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper.

He’s panting, but his reciprocation is immediate. “I love you more.”

“No, you don’t.”

Spencer lifts himself up enough to wrap his arms behind your head, almost framing your head where you’re laid underneath him. “Trust me, I do.” His eyes shutter. You close your own in wait of another kiss, but he’s sliding the tip of his nose down the bridge of your own. He draws a circle, draws soft lines over your cheek in zigzags.

“Tell me what to do now,” he murmurs.

You scratch his back lightly. “Aw, Spencer, just keep doing this.”

—

Spencer cleans you up and you finally cry, a couple of tears you’re hoping he won’t notice as he drops the towel on your leg. He holds you with his hand behind your back and murmurs words too nice for such silly tears into your cheek, before asking, scared, if he’d hurt you.

“No, no, it’s like the most intense relief in the world!” you tell him, selfishly basking in the muscle of arms where they’re wrapped around you, and his silky hair whispering over your ear. “I feel amazing.”

“I didn’t think you’d be one of the women who cry afterward,” he says. He’s not judging you, simply sharing an observation. It makes sense. You’re not usually emotional in such an unconstrained way.

“I’m really happy.” You pinch his chin mildly.

“Your legs are hurting.”

You let him go. “Yeah, a bit. It’s a nice hurting. Like we went for a really long walk.”

He takes your face into both hands and tips your head back. You’re slouched forward, he’s straight-backed, and he’s taller where he’s grinning at you. His hand comes to rest against one of your breasts, giving it a little cup before he presses it flat over your heart. “I thought you were never gonna calm down.”

“You have that effect on people.”

“Maybe that’s true for you,” he says, tapping your nose with his, encouraging you to lift your chin. “But only one person’s ever made me lose my breath like that,” he adds, your lips touching, not kissing.

You could keep him forever. “Think we should turn our phones back on?” you ask.

“When I’ve made you something to drink, sure. And found you something to wear, right? It’s too cold.”

You’re still hot enough to cook an egg, but you let him take care of you. It’s as good as being fucked, being adored when it’s done. He gives you underwear first, a soft tank top and a pair of panties you’d left here before and he’d washed and pressed, your sweetheart. You’re surprised he doesn’t help you into them, but you notice with fond bemusement that he’s cringing as he steps into a fresh pair of boxers.

“You okay, handsome? Did you tweak something?”

He’s in pants before you realise, standing shirtless with sex-tousled hair. You could ask him back to bed if you weren’t exhausted. “I’m not in shape.”

“I could say otherwise.”

Spencer’s on top of you again in an instant. He sits on your naked leg and pulls down your rising tank top before twinging your hands in his. He’s practically in your lap as he kisses your chin. It’s that earnest you end up giggling, lovestruck, two idiots holding hands. He steals a couple of lazy kisses. You can’t remember how many you’ve had anymore.

“You’re contrary,” he says as he pulls away.

“Can’t you be nice to me? You were acting so nice.”

He slides off of your leg. “You’re my best friend. I hope we’re this happy for the rest of our lives.”

You fist your hand in the rumpled sheets behind you. He’s apparently unaware he’s said the most special thing he could’ve, opening his closet door to retrieve your pyjamas from the shelf he dedicated to you the first time you slept over. You are best friends, is the best part. He’s not exaggerating.

Before he’d ever kissed you, you were in love. You’ve been in love for years.

Spencer drops your pyjamas next to you on the bed. “You want me to help you put them on?”

You have no reason to need help tonight, but you want it. “Yes, please. Can you rub my back after?”

“Yesss. I’d love to rub your back. If we maintain our physical connection after sex, it enhances the relaxing factor but it also prolongs the effect of the oxytocin and dopamine your brain would’ve released when we were–” He picks up your sleep shirt and shakes it out. “Well, you know.”

“Any more sex facts for me?”

Spencer has the nerve to blush, considering the way he’d spoken to you only ten minutes ago. “An orgasm as a woman can lower your risk of heart disease, breast cancer, and depression.”

You smile at him sweetly. “No kidding. How much to get that risk down to zero?”

He kisses your cheek. “You know that’s not how it works.”

“We can still try.”

“Um. Can I have a banana first?”

“I’m kidding!”

“Oh.” He gestures for you to put your arms into the sleep shirt. “Well, maybe you can have a banana too and we’ll see how we feel.”

˗ˋˏ ʚ♡ɞ ˎˊ˗

Thank you for reading!!!!! I hope you enjoyed it! please reblog or let me know what you thought if you have the time, but I hope you enjoyed regardless!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer and bombshell reader #criminal minds #spencer reid smut

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angelfic · 10 months

Text

— THE WAY I LOVED YOU

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: in which theodore nott will do anything to get you to go out with him, but you’re just as stubborn rejecting him

warnings: swearing, kissing, dangerous stunts and theo being stupid (ryan gosling in the notebook style), unedited since i wrote this in the middle of the night on no sleep again lol. enemies to lovers if you squint a bit

author’s note: since everyone loves theo i’ll pretend this isn’t just for my own selfish needs <3 (especially the notebook reference) also surprise surprise mc is a gryffindor as always, you’d never know i was a slytherin my bad guys… as always let me know what u think! enjoy, angels 💌

The first time Theodore Nott asks you out, you spill a pot of ink directly into his lap.

It’s not like you meant to do it. But when there’s a Transfiguration worksheet to be getting on with, the Slytherin boy seated next to you by Professor McGonagall asking you out would surely take anyone by surprise.

The second you twist in your seat to look at him in shock, your arm slides the pot right off the desk and directly onto his grey trousers, instantly staining them with the black liquid before you have a chance to speak.

Your hands fly to your mouth to stifle your gasp and you look up at him, anticipating an angry glare in return. Instead, he looks mildly surprised at the ever-growing stain on his crotch, but mostly… amused?

“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, darling,” he says, raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smile.

You begin stuttering out an apology and scrambling for your wand to wave away the stain before you can do something stupid like attempting to rub it off with your sleeve. Your cheeks instantly heat up at the humiliating image now plaguing your mind and you barely contain a sigh of relief when you realise the lesson has finished.

It’s a miracle your shoes haven’t left scuff marks on the ground in a cartoonish trail with the speed at which you leave the classroom. Godric knows why Theo Nott of all people wants to ask you out, but since it can’t possibly be for any good reason, you’d rather not think about it too much. This, however, isn’t helped by Hermione pestering you about why you look so flustered for the entire walk to the Charms classroom.

Twenty minutes later, her attention is finally diverted. On the other hand, it’s because she’s berating you for accidentally burning the end of her left eyebrow off with a charm gone wrong.

The second time Theo asks you out, there are thankfully no ink pots around.

“Hey,” he whispers from behind you, making you jump within an inch of your life despite his low volume. You swivel in your chair to glare at him, incredulous. Seeing that he’s startled you, Theo grins. “Sorry. What are you doing?”

“Baking a cake,” you deadpan, once your heart has started beating at a normal pace again. Holding up your Potions book, you feel the annoyance start to seep in when Theo continues looking at you, undeterred. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Apparently unfazed by your sarcasm, he drags out the chair next to you and spins it around to sit on it backwards. Settling his arms on top of the backrest, Theo rests his chin on them to look at you. “You never did answer my question.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, eyes scanning the page in front of you but taking in nothing. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to study-”

“Are you going to make me ask you again?” he sighs. You panic a little at his bluntness and continue pretending to read, not knowing what else to do. Theo takes your silence as encouragement and shuffles his chair closer to your own. “Go out with me.”

The arrogance practically drips off his voice, and the pit of anxiety in your stomach immediately turns into irritation instead. “No,” you grit out, slamming your potions book shut to scowl at him. “And I don’t hear you asking anything.”

“Okay,” Theo says slowly, nodding as though he understands. It’s clear that he doesn’t though, because the next words out of his mouth have you stunned. “Please, oh please, will you do me the absolute greatest honour of going out with me?”

”Merlin,” you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. Dropping your hands into your lap, you see no solution other than gathering your things to return to the common room. “You’re having me on…”

“I can assure you, I’m not,” Theo says quickly, stopping you from leaving by gently grabbing your elbow. You stop in your movements to catch him looking more unsure than you’ve ever seen, and you’ve never been more perplexed. “I’m completely serious right now. Go out with me?”

“Wh- I don’t even-” you sigh, cutting your senseless muttering off to cross your arms over your textbook. “Whatever happened to a simple ‘no’ sufficing, darling? Aren’t there a million other girls for you to go and pester? Godric knows you’ve got an entourage following you half the- What are you looking at?”

Amazingly, Theo’s expression has lost all trace of vulnerability and now displays a slightly faraway look, his signature lazy grin in full effect. “Sorry, I didn’t hear a word after you called me ‘darling’.”

Resisting the urge to hit him over the head with your textbook, you take a deep breath and grasp the potential weapon tighter in your hands before speaking. “As hard as it is for me to believe that girls actually fall for this rubbish, your history with them shows that they do. Don’t think for a second, I’m going to let you use me like they do.”

Theo considers your words for a few seconds, mulling them over as carefully as though he’s trying to solve a brain teaser. Eventually, he seems to come to a satisfying conclusion, because he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers and tilts his head. “So you need me to prove I’m serious about this… and then you’ll say yes?”

“Oh, for the love of-” Huffing, you turn on your heal without saying another word and storm out of the library. Theo doesn’t follow you, allowing you to clear your head and think about the incredibly odd interaction.

You’re climbing through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room when you realise you never actually refuted Theo and his theory to make you go out with him. Whether or not it was on purpose, you can’t quite decide.

Over the next few weeks, you start wishing you had stopped Theo before he could start trying to prove himself to you.

You can’t go a single day without the question of going out with him popping up. Much to your bewilderment, it isn’t always him asking. Sometimes it’s his friends, sometimes it’s students at the Gryffindor table who are sick of the multiple owls every morning flocking to your table with a note in their beaks. Sometimes it’s even your friends.

“I mean, really,” Hermione says at breakfast, huffy as always when reprimanding someone. “It’d be benefiting everyone if you just went out with him. Why don’t you, anyway?”

“He’s a Slytherin,” Ron butts in, talking to Hermione as though he’s explaining something to a child. He takes a gigantic bite of his toast before speaking, his next words coming out muffled. “Surely that’s reason enough.”

“No, that isn’t reason enough,” Hermione says sternly, furrowing her brows. “A good reason would have been all the girls he’s always with. Of course, that’s flown out the window recently. He’s also never given them as much attention now that I think about it.”

“He’s definitely not the worst of the group either,” Harry adds, leaning in as nosily as Ron. “Not like we’re talking about Malfoy…”

“Don’t you two have Quidditch tactics to be discussing?” you snap, exhausted by the subject already. The two boys hold up their hands in surrender, before shuffling down the bench. Whether that’s to be closer to the Quidditch team, or to get away from you before you start throwing hexes - you aren’t certain.

The fact you’re awake early in the morning on a Saturday isn’t helping your sour mood, and the Quidditch match being between Gryffindor and Slytherin only adds to this.

“We’d better go and get a good seat at the front, so we aren’t on our tiptoes for the whole game like last time,” Hermione says, already sliding off the bench. You give your cup of coffee one last longing look before you allow yourself to be dragged away.

You haven’t even made it onto the Quidditch pitch before you’re already wishing for that cup of coffee to give you strength, because you find none other than Theo standing outside the Great Hall in his green and silver Quidditch robes.

As soon as he spots you, Theo plasters on that charming smile of his and opens his mouth, no doubt to ask you if you could talk privately.

Hermione interjects before he gets the chance. “Don’t bother, I’m leaving.” She simply sighs when you look at her, betrayed. “He’d have convinced you anyway! I’ll save you a seat.”

You watch her leave, helplessly before turning to Theo and crossing your arms. “Yes?”

“I have a proposition for you,” he says simply, getting to the point. The proposition has, without a doubt, got something to do with you and him and a trip to Hogsmeade, but you gesture for him to continue nonetheless. You can’t deny it’s been entertaining watching Theo come up with new ways to ask you out these past few weeks. “I’ll throw the match and let your lot win if you go out with me.”

This startles a laugh out of you, something between a chortle and a gasp. “Oh, you cheeky bastard,” you exclaim, but you can’t help grinning. That was quite possibly the last thing you expected him to say. “First of all, I think my lot is perfectly capable of winning on their own. And secondly… as funny as it would be, I’d rather not have your death and Malfoy’s subsequent imprisonment in Azkaban be on my conscience.”

You only realise just how wide your smile is when it starts to fade under Theo’s unwavering gaze. His lips twitch up into a smile and you immediately frown as an automatic response. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re bantering with me,” Theo says, grinning as though he’s extremely pleased with himself. You realise with a jolt, that yes you were bantering. “One step closer to agreeing to go out with me.”

“That’s not happening,” you protest, but it sounds fairly weak, even to you. “Like I keep telling you, I’m not going to be one of those girls.”

Theo shrugs. “And I think you already know you’re not one of those girls. It’s fine, I can wait.”

The relaxed manner in which he says this has you flabbergasted to say the least. Truthfully, you aren’t completely sure why you haven’t just agreed at this point. No one in the whole school is used to witnessing such extravagant displays from Theodore Nott, so you’ve accepted the fact you’re an outlier in this particular subject area. You’re starting to think Hermione’s right, and it’s pure stubbornness that’s keeping you going.

“You’ll be waiting a long time then,” you say, giving Theo a bland smile.

“Nah,” is all he says, the smile still gracing his unperturbed face. “Keep an eye out for me in the Quidditch stands.”

Theo winks at you before walking away in the direction of the pitch and you linger in the castle for a good few minutes before snapping out of it and walking in the same direction.

You find Hermione quickly at the front of the Gryffindor stand and you’re about to ask how long until the game starts when Lee Jordan’s voice begins to boom from the commentator stand.

“Strong start for Gryffindor with Katie Bell taking the Quaffle and- nope, Vaisey’s taken it and passed it onto Urquhart, his fellow Chaser and the new Slytherin captain.” You’re thankful for Lee’s commentary as it’s easy to follow and you probably wouldn’t have a clue if it weren’t for him. Surprisingly, he keeps it professional enough for a while. “Ginny Weasley tries to take the Quaffle after a near hit there to Urquhart, thanks to new Gryffindor Beater Jimmy Peakes and that very solid Bludger over there. Unfortunately, he missed-”

“JORDAN.”

“Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I meant fortunately. Slytherin Chaser Mattheo Riddle now has the Quaffle and seems to be aiming to score and- oops! He’s missed, thanks to Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley. Good on you, Weasley,” Lee says, unable to be impartial as shown by McGonagall’s glare. “As for the Slytherin Keeper, Nott seems to be distracted by something in the Gryffindor stands. Or should I say someone.”

Laughter echoes in every stand, much to your utter humiliation and some people even start whooping and cheering in your direction. Theo’s antics are common knowledge at this point, but it doesn’t make the laughter any less embarrassing. You try and maintain a shred of dignity by standing still and glaring as hard as you can at Theo. Horrifyingly, he starts to fly in your direction.

Lee looks at McGonagall before speaking, but she merely shrugs helplessly, looking flustered herself. “Er, well it seems Slytherin are open for Gryffindor to score. No one seems to be taking advantage, however, as I think I can speak for everyone when I say we want to know what’s going on with Nott and Y/N.”

Glancing at the others, you realise Lee is right and all the players are hovering in place, making no move to continue the game. They look partly confused, but mostly nosy.

Theo stops just outside the Gryffindor stand, his attention focused wholly on you. You raise both eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak. “Go out with me.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t quite hear what Nott is saying, but I think we can all guess he’s asking her out again,” Lee says, causing a few more cheers and even a couple groans. “Take the hint, mate.”

“Theo, get back to the game!” you hiss, wrapping your arms around you as if it’ll shield you from everyone’s eyes. “You’re embarrassing m- What the fuck are you doing!”

Theo swings a leg over the side of his broomstick so that he’s sitting completely facing you, legs dangling dangerously off one side. Lee sits up a little in his booth and McGonagall looks positively horrified. “For unknown reasons, Nott is balancing precariously in a position no Quidditch player wants to- Merlin, he’s hanging off his broomstick!”

Everyone in the crowd screams and shouts when Theo slips off his broomstick, but they quieten down and watch with fright when they see he’s still holding on with both hands. You think you’re going to faint.

“Theo,” you plead, with the same voice you’d use to coax a bloody kitten out of a tree. “Get back on your broomstick. Please.”

“Only if you go out with me,” Theo says, eyes determined despite breathing a little heavier. The broomstick is thin and despite his strength, it’d be hard for anyone to maintain a grip for long. “Say you’ll go out with me and I’ll get back on.”

“Just say it!” Hermione grabs you by the shoulder to shake you.

Professor McGonagall seems to have shaken out of her previous daze and begins scrambling around for her wand while Lee narrows his eyes to better assess the situation. “Godric, Y/N. Just say ‘yes’ and end everyone’s misery already.”

“But…” you trail off, hands shaking as you keep your eyes on Theo’s white knuckles still gripping the broom. “I don’t want to encourage this stupid behaviour.”

Theo rolls his eyes as though he can’t believe you’re still objecting. He shakes his head at you, though his chest is shaking with laughter. “Go out with me, and I swear I’ll never do anything stupid again. Fucking hell, I’ll quit Quidditch altogether if you want.”

You open your mouth to say something, you’re not sure what, but before you can get a word out, Seamus Finnigan pipes up from beside you. “Personally, I say let him fall off the bloody thing.”

Tutting, you turn to Theo just to find the idiot raising an eyebrow challengingly. His left hand begins to loosen on the broomstick, deliberately.

“Theo, don’t you dare.”

He drops his left hand completely and you scream, the noise drowned out by everyone else’s yells.

“OKAY!” you yelp, heart in throat as you watch Theo dangling from his broomstick with one hand, clearly struggling. “Okay, I’ll go out with you, you stubborn idiot!”

The Gryffindors that hear you, begin to cheer, setting off the other houses and once McGonagall sees Theo begin to pull himself up on his broomstick, she visibly relaxes, slumping in her seat as she clutches her chest. Lee soon gets the message. “Finally, after a good month of watching Nott pine pathetically, Y/N has agreed to go out with the poor bast- Er, beggar. Sorry, Professor. By the way Nott, you’ve got detention for a week.”

Now sitting normally on his broomstick, Theo grins at you like the cheeky bastard that he is, with elation clear as day on his face. You struggle to fight off your own grin and you can tell by his expression you’re not doing a very good job at it. “Pull something like that again and I’ll push you off your broomstick myself,” you warn him, though it lacks any real threat. You were more worried than angry, and it definitely shows. “Okay?”

“No more stupid behaviour,” Theo promises, sounding sincere as he nods, messy hair falling into his eyes. The wind blows it out of the way almost immediately and you find yourself wanting to do it with your fingers. “After this, though.”

You furrow your brows as Theo flies close enough to the Gryffindor stand to get off his broomstick and hop right into the crowd, landing next to you. Broomstick in hand, Theo doesn’t take his eyes off you when he holds it out to Hermione. “If you don’t mind, Granger.”

Clearly baffled, Hermione gingerly takes the broomstick from him and watches the two of you, as enraptured as the rest of the school.

You face Theo properly, looking up at his eyes to see them glittering with pride and achievement. You tilt your head in question, wondering why he hasn’t yet returned to the game.

Theo answers you by gripping your waist to pull you into a stupidly dramatic, dizzying, wonderful kiss. His lips are soft against your own and cold from the wind, but the shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way Theo is pressed against you.

You could go on forever, but the cheers and claps and hollering around you remind you that you’re surrounded by all your peers and, Godric, your teachers.

Pulling away, you clear your throat and attempt to gain back some of your dignity by keeping a serious face. Theo attempts nothing of the sort as he’s still wearing a silly grin. You try and avoid his eyes for the sake of your nerves and you mutter the first thing that comes to mind. “Erm, good luck then. I hope you win.”

This is the wrong thing to say surrounded by your fellow Gryffindors as a few of them boo at you.

Theo rolls his eyes at the dramatics, while you simply scowl, pointedly at Seamus who seems to have boo’ed the loudest. Hermione is beaming at you when she hands Theo back his broomstick, though she also gives a little frown directed at Seamus.

Getting back on his broomstick, Theo hovers near you outside the stand. You lower your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “I still hope you win.”

Theo shrugs, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him during a Quidditch game. “I’ve already won, darling.”

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