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darknight3904 · 6 months

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All Yours, Coryo

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪:ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅꜱ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅᴛʜɪʀꜱᴛʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛᴜʀɴ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx. ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɴᴀɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɪꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʙʟɪɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʜɪꜱ ʀᴇᴅ ꜰʟᴀɢꜱ. ꜱᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ.

ɪ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛʟʏ ʜɪᴛ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʏᴇꜱᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ ɪɴꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴇᴀʀʟɪᴇʀ, ɴᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ.

ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.

Coriolanus has never been the easiest person to understand. His mind was always racing and it kept you on your toes. Even now as he fretted over his appearance in the mirror you could tell his mind was thinking of a million things beyond whether or not his tie fit him correctly.

"For what it's worth, I think you look perfect." You say, sipping at your drink, you had been ready for nearly twenty minutes while Coriolanus was still figuring out what tie matched his pants best.

"I'm sure you do but this isn't just any party, I'm campaigning tonight and everything must be perfect." He says adjusting his hair even though it already sat perfectly styled atop his head.

It was Coriolanus' 23rd birthday and instead of celebrating like you usually did, you were both spending it at a party full of people who might help him reach the presidency by the beginning of next year. You approach him and wrap your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"It will be." You assure, pressing a kiss to his exposed neck where his makeup artist did a wonderful job at covering the marks you had left behind last night.

"If all goes well tonight, you might just become the first lady of Panem one day." He smiles at you through the mirror

"Does that mean we're getting married?" You laugh, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the idea of being with him forever

"Maybe..." Coriolanus says suddenly avoiding your eyes as his face reddens under your gaze.

You giggle at your boyfriend's flustered face, despite how grown up he had become in the past few years he was still the same boy you met at the academy all those years ago who just wanted his own bowl of fruit to gobble down.

"You definitely wanna marry me, Coryo!" You say almost as if you had discovered a secret of his.

"Well if you're not interested I can always find another." He jests, finally tying his tie.

"Oh please, I'm the only one who could ever tolerate you." You smile as he spins around to face you and rests his hands on your hips

"That you are, darling, that you are." He smiles and presses a chaste kiss to your lips

Coriolanus is sure you are his favorite person in the entire world. From the way you'd laugh at his jokes to the way your nose whistled when you slept, he loved it all. Even now as the two of you had long abandoned your teenage years and stepped into adulthood, he knew he didn't want to lose you. His interactions with Lucy Gray and his time in District 12 had only solidified how he wanted you to stay close to him. He watches as you cross the room to slip into a pair of pretty high heels, he loved the way your dress sat on your body, it was perfectly fitted and he wondered what designer had been able to craft it so perfectly.

He looked back at the mirror and pretended to fiddle with his outfit again even though he knew he looked perfect. Instead, his eyes cast to the small table next to the mirror where a collection of photos sat you and him over the past five years. His favorite though was the one that was taken at your 17th birthday party. He remembered how warm it had been, and at one point someone had filled a bucket of water and tossed at you. He had expected you to cry out and push everyone out of your home but instead, he was met with your laughter and thus a water fight had begun. The picture of the two of you had been taken not even twenty minutes later, both of you were drenched but happy and you had linked your arms together right before the picture was taken. Sometimes he wished to go back to those moments, to relieve the last bits of his boyhood even though it meant going back to that decrepit building he once lived in and the taste of cabbage a constant on his tongue.

"Thinking about the past?" You ask from across the room.

"Thinking about how ugly we look here." He says picking up the photo

"Nonsense, we're adorable in that. If I remember correctly that was taken a few weeks before you tripped me in my room trying to slow dance and then you gave me the kiss of a lifetime." You smile

"I didn't trip you, you tripped me with your bad dancing." He laughed, returning the photo to its proper place among the others.

"Whatever you say, Coryo." You smiled, he could tell you didn't believe one word that came from his mouth about the tripping incident.

These parties were always a bit tedious for you. You enjoyed seeing Coriolanus happy among Capitol elites and you loved the lavish dresses you got to wear but sometimes it became overwhelming. The sheer amount of reporters that were always at these things is what drove you crazy. Coriolanus ate the attention up and answered all their questions about how he'd change Panem for the better but you were usually left answering questions about what your dress was made of or what your relationship was with Coriolanus. He often assured you that once he won the presidency he'd have more control over what was asked and that you'd never have to answer another dress question again. You hoped he won as soon as possible, it was tiring pretending this line of questioning was interesting.

"Is that real gold on your sleeves?"

"Is that ring on your finger an engagement ring?"

"Who did your hair for the evening?"

"Are you going to have the future president's children?"

"Did you seduce Coriolanus Snow for power in the Capitol?"

"How many toes do you have?"

God you wished they'd all shut up, or at least get better questions. Even just something as small as your involvement with your father's company would've been better than this. You ignored whatever trash was coming from their mouths and held on to Coriolanus' arm like he was going to disappear and end up back in District 12 again.

You remembered that day very well, after Coriolanus' tribute had won he had just disappeared despite promising to walk you home after the games had ended. When he didn't show up for graduation either, you found yourself outside Tigris and Grandma'am's new residence looking for answers. Tigris had told you what happened with him and that girl, Lucy Gray, how he cheated with rat poison and a handkerchief of his father's. At first, you had been distraught that he was sent off to District 12, stuck there for twenty years as some peacekeeping grunt, you'd be an ugly middle-aged woman by the time he got back! You had been in the pits of despair about your relationship with him but all it took was one terrifying meeting with Dr. Gaul to change your attitude. Once she revealed that Coriolanus would be back in the Capitol soon, and she was simply testing his dedication to the games, you relaxed. While Dr. Gaul might not have all her marbles you knew she wasn't lying, and sure enough, your Coriolanus returned to you in a matter of weeks.

However, he returned to you differently though. Sure, his head was shaved like all Peacekeepers and the curls you loved to play with were gone, but his attitude had also changed. Perhaps it was that Songbird he never wanted to speak of even now. You could never quite place what happened between Coriolanus and her, all that mattered to you was that he had assured you it wasn't romantic. Just shared ambitions to both win something. In her case her life and in his the Plinth Prize, not that that went well for her since she had disappeared shortly after she went home. You weren't quite sure what to make of Lucy Gray, the mysterious Songbird who had enchanted all of Panem just five years ago. You had only spoken to her once and it was just to compliment her singing during her interview. She hadn't exactly impressed you with her in that moment but she must have impressed Coriolanus at some point if he was willing to break rules for her.

Or perhaps his change was due to whatever training Peacekeepers went through and the death of Sejanus that had rocked the entire Capitol when he was revealed as a traitor, you knew Coriolanus had been close to him. Of course, despite all his changes and attitude adjustments, he never applied them to you. So, here you stayed by his side, happy that he still loved you the same. Soft touches and sweet words remained constant as the two of you aged and explored the advantages of adulthood. One of your favorite things about being 23 was moving out of your family's home and into the penthouse Coriolanus had chosen for the two of you. Waking up next to Coriolanus each day and seeing how he looked before his eyes fluttered open had to be your favorite part of the days you spent together. Brushing his hair from his eyes and counting the freckles that just barely brushed his pale skin was something you did daily until his pretty blue eyes met yours again. Once he did wake though, it was hard to get him to stay in bed with you. His peaceful state was always replaced with a man who was always working towards something, ambition was always fueling him.

You didn't mind his rough exterior that emerged each morning though, Coriolanus was cold and hard on everyone but you. Perhaps it was your shared childhood memories and teenage romance that prevented him from treating you coldly like he did poor Tigris but you weren't sure. One thing you did know was that the boy you grew up with was gone and a man stood in his place, brooding and cold to everyone but you.

"I'm going to get us a drink and then if you want we can dance." He whispered in your ear

"Can you get me that fizzy lemon drink they usually serve?" You ask

"Of course, I'll bring you some of those hors d'oeuvres you like with the cheese as well."

And then, he was gone from your side moving expertly through the crowd. That dazzling blonde hair accompanied by the broadest shoulders you've ever seen on a man disappeared among the throngs of people craning their necks to get a better look at the future president and his pretty face.

"A true marvel isn't he?" a voice to your right said

You turned to be met by none other than Lucky Flickerman, a drink in one hand and a young child's hand grasped in the other.

"I'm not interested in doing an interview, Lucky. If you want information on Coryo you can ask him yourself." You say, ready to walk away from the Capitol's favorite news anchor turned Hunger Games host.

"Coryo...what an interesting nickname, a bit childish for a man who might watch over us all soon. No matter, I would however absolutely love to report on you one day and maybe even that big business you're the heiress of, but I'm actually talking to you for this little one tonight." Lucky smiles motioning to the boy who you guessed was his son. "He was admiring that stunning dress of yours and I thought he might want to see it up close and personal."

For once you didn't mind being asked about your clothes as you crouched down to the little boy's height, he couldn't be more than 5 or 6.

"You have a good eye, would you like to feel the fabric? The designer I met with made it wonderfully soft." You smile, thinking of how Tigris had gushed over the blood-red fabric that would perfectly match Coriolanus' suit with you just weeks ago.

The boy reaches his hand out and brushes it along expensive fabric and a smile grows on his face.

"What's your name?" You ask

"Caesar." He says "I just turned 6 last week."

"Well, Caesar, six is a marvelous age to be, you can do all sorts of things at six. In fact, when I turned six I learned to ride a bicycle for the first time, I did however scrape my knees half a million times. I even still have a few scars on my knees would you like to see them?." You smile at him and he nods.

"Lucky Flickerman, I thought I told your producers that you weren't allowed to bother her with your idiotic questions the way the other reporters do. You clearly don't value your job, if you did you would have listened to my words." Coriolanus' voice suddenly fills your ears as you quickly right yourself, remembering how he once told you you'd have to start holding yourself with more decorum at these events. 'No more acting like a stupid teenager' had been his exact words one night when you were eating dinner together in your shared room.

"It's fine, his son wanted to say hello." You smile down at Caesar, take your lemon drink, and pop some of the food Coriolanus brought with him into your mouth. You sincerely hoped that you weren't about to witness Lucky being fired by the newest mastermind behind The Hunger Games and future the president.

From the corner of your eye, you see Coriolanus cast an intimidating look down at the boy and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs and force him to apologize to the poor child who was now cowering behind his father's stylish pant leg.

"I'll see you later, Lucky. We are going to go dancing now." Coriolanus says setting your barely sipped drink and food on a tray of a passing server before whisking you away.

"You're bad with children, Coryo." You say as he leads you towards the dance floor.

"And you're bad at reading people, darling." He says, ignoring the way you pouted at your loss of lemon drink and cheese-sprinkled food.

"What do you mean?" You ask, confused

"Lucky just wanted to get you to answer questions about me," Coriolanus says as he leads you in a dance, the both of you had gotten exceptionally better since your failure at 17 in your childhood bedroom.

"Oh." You say, a bit sad that he wasn't genuinely interested in you, just another dumb reporter who wanted news on Coriolanus' next move. It was amazing how Coriolanus always knew what others were thinking and how to approach a situation best.

"It's alright, just ignore him next time," Coriolanus says, gently squeezing your waist as a form of reassurance.

You nod and rest your head on his shoulder as you spin around the dance floor, suddenly wishing you were tangled up in bed with him rather than dancing in heels that were pinching your toes.

"Can I confess something to you?" Coriolanus whispers, his lips tickling your ear.

"Of course, always " You reply honestly

"I hate seeing you interacting with them." He says in a low voice.

"Them?" You ask

"These people. Seeing them ask you questions about your dress or hair, makes me want to toss them into the arena and watch one of Gaul's mutts rip them apart. I hate the way they look at you like you're a piece of meat attached to my side." He says, possessiveness lacing his tone.

"Oh...well I'm sure they don't all think that way." You try to reason, hoping that he wasn't right about this read on others.

"I doubt it. Look at that one by the fountain in the blue jacket." He says nodding to his right.

You glance over to the fountain and see an old man with a fluffy white beard and white hair to match. He seemed to be carefully watching you and Coriolanus spinning on the dancefloor but you weren't quite sure.

"I'm positive he's standing there imagining what it'd look like if this pretty dress was on the floor and you were on top of him," Coriolanus whispers, knowing it'll have you blushing in his arms.

"Coryo..." You say, trying to keep your composure as he presses his body to yours while you wonder if he's truly right and the old man across the pretty courtyard is truly ogling you.

"Too bad I'm the only one who will ever know what that looks like." He says a certain arrogance in his voice you can't quite place.

"Stop it." You scold, trying to hide the fact that your face is as red as your dress.

"Why? I can't wait to get back to our bedroom tonight and bring what's in my head to life." Coriolanus laughs, his voice was husky in your ears and making you weak in the knees.

"You're so embarrassing, Coryo." You say into his chest, avoiding that sharp gaze he had. How could someone act so well-composed but also have the dirty mind of a perverted teenage boy?

Coriolanus stops leading your dance and hooks a finger under your chin so you're looking up at him again. Sharp blue eyes that felt like they were staring into your soul looked at you, full of passion and want.

"My heart burns for you, darling, as it always has. You're mine, my perfect girl, all mine." He promises before swooping in to deliver what might qualify as the most monumental kiss in all of history.

A certain warmness spreads across your body as he kisses you in public for the first time. It's moments like this with your Coriolanus make your heart swell, these moments remind you that the little boy with the golden curls you met when you were just twelve lives on, just in a different way. You know the teenager you once ate cabbage soup and bread with sweet jam watches over you as you kiss his 23-year-old self, you know he's smiling at where the two of you are now. You're sure that the same boy who once spun you around your childhood bedroom to your favorite slow song is still here with you now, even if he rarely shows his face. Coriolanus Snow is always watching over you, every version of him envelopes you tonight as he shows the world who you are to him.

Your head spins and your lungs burn as you hear a few whoops and cheers from onlookers while others whisper about how Coriolanus' hands are wandering all over your body. You're sure the way he's kissing you is going to end up on some Capitol news reel tomorrow morning but you can't find the heart to care. Somewhere in his chest, you feel Coriolanus let out a deep groan when you run your hands through his hair ruining the way it was perfectly styled for the evening. You gasp when his teeth nip at your bottom lip and pull away, a gasp for air leaving your now surely swollen lips.

"All yours, Coryo." You assure him and lean in for another kiss.

You smile as he kisses back and couldn't care less about what the world around you thinks, you had your Coryo, the boy who you grew up with and ate cabbage together in his decrepit home, the same boy who danced with you despite his own lack of skill. You were with your Coriolanus, the man who was going to carry Panem into a new age of glory.

Part Three

Series Masterlist

Read the Teaser here

So I uh sorta ended up abandoning fluffy Coryo thoughts from part one and went with the reader's pov of him at 23, I hope that's okay with all of you. He still loves you though don't worry, it's just in his own Coryo way. His own magically manipulative Coryo way. I was initially going to make this part during the 10th Hunger Games but then I thought, wouldn't it be interesting to see how he interacts with reader post Lucy Gray considering how much she changes his ideals. To make things clear, every moment with Lucy Gray and Coryo has occurred and the reader is unaware of pretty much all of it here, obviously since she's so goo goo gah gah over him.

If you'd like more of my writings about Coryo and you, my fic Blank Space might be the read for you, it also has a part two that is available now You can read them both here. (Yes it's based on the Taylor Swift song)

Taglist:

@bl0ndelilac

@lucygreene

@lwqfhp

@belle643

@fantasylovestoryme

@alana4610

@threeinchminimum

@dangelnleif

@hannaeditzs

@1950schick

@ennycutie

@janelongxox

@ajs-222

@or-was-it-just-a-dream

@notlilyyyy

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@diannana

@ashrsworld

@lokidala

@clintsupremacy

@brilliantreid

@badassbitch-21

@steppingonshatteredglass

@405rry @folklorde24

@eir964

@charlesswife

@fangirling-galore

#the hunger games #fanfic #coriolanus snow smut #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #katniss everdeen #mockingjay #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #tom blyth #rachel zegler #coriolanus snow fluff #sejanus plinth #thg #tbosas #coriolanus snow x fem!reader

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seresinhangmanjake · 6 days

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Do You Love?

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x wife!reader

Summary: Feyd is soft for his wife and only wants to know if she loves him. His wife just wants him to come home.

Notes/Warnings: fluff and a little angst and very light smut (still 18+), softy-soft Feyd, probably could do with a wedding prequel if people were interested, im sure there are typos. I think that's it.

Words: 1400

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

He hates being away from you. Can't bear it. It takes less than two days for withdrawal from your lack of presence to settle in, and when it hits, it hits hard. The luminescence of your smile that threatens the darkness within him on his worst days; the delicate suppleness of your skin that introduced him to the softness and warmth of a human body; the specific quality and tone of your voice when you whisper and whimper and moan in his ear—he needs it. He needs you. He craves you until the second you’re in his arms again. He just wishes he could understand if you feel the same. He wishes he could know if you love him as much as he does you.

When you came into his life, you were a pawn for peace. A gift from one Great House to another. A reluctant bride who couldn’t choke back her tears on her wedding day. He’ll never forget the saltiness that lingered on his lips after the kiss that bound you to him forever. He can still feel the pang in his heart from seeing you finch when he guided the strap of your nightgown off your shoulder.

It took ages for you to shed your fear; to allow him to hold you and kiss you and be inside of you, but those many months of ‘two steps forward, one step back’ have left him in a paralyzing state of identity crisis and uncertainty. You’ve turned him into a man who begs for scraps of reassurance that you care for him rather than a man who shows no mercy for love; a man so preoccupied with thoughts of his wife’s affection that not even his enemies are granted his full attention as he watches the light drain from their eyes.

From the moment he leaves, he anticipates his return so you can quell his agitation, at least to some degree. The same words echo in his head each time he steps off a Harkonnen ship to search for you—hug me, hold me, kiss me, let my body inside of yours, tell me you love me—and in recent months you haven’t failed to do those things, with the exception of the last request. The day you tell him you love him will be the day he stops fearing you'll eventually grow bored with him. On that day, he’ll be happy, at peace. He’ll be unafraid of what his future with you will bring.

—

Reader POV

He often goes to Arrakis for a week or two, that’s not new. He must monitor things and fight Fremen when necessary. However, this time was different. There was something foreign in his eyes after he kissed your palm and boarded his ship to depart. Sadness? Pain? Worry? All three? You didn’t know, but it terrified you from how little he tried to disguise it. With each departure, it’s seemed his mood has worsened and you can't decipher its cause.

Now, ten days later, your fingernails are worn to nubs and dark circles have found home under your eyes from nightmares interrupting your sleep. They’re different every night but they always end with Feyd not coming home to you, and you don’t know how to cope. You tell yourself you’re crazy, that there’s no possibility of him being taken down with a Fremen knife or gobbled up by a sandworm or blown to bits from his ship getting shot out of the sky. He’s too smart, too quick, too trained for such things to claim his life. At the same time, however, the last person whose death you dreamt of was your mother’s, and while it’s rare your dreams are prophetic, that one came to fruition not five days later. Who is to say your dreams of your husband are not the same?

But you can’t lose Feyd, not when it feels like you just got him. When you married, your dread of navigating a new husband and life on Giedi Prime—both of which have a reputation for being cold and desolate and harsh—crippled your ability to see him for who he is. It’s only been the last few months that you’ve let yourself love and understand him, and you can’t imagine a reality in which you wake one morning knowing you will never have him again. You wouldn’t survive it.

But you won't have to, because he's fine, perfectly safe—that's what you tell yourself. He told you he wouldn’t be away long and he wouldn’t say that unless he believed it, right?

Then again, believing he would be home soon doesn’t mean fate agrees. What if he's already gone? Wait, no. No, he wouldn't do that to you. He'll be home because he always makes it home. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave you. You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave.

Your body curls into the first touch of warmth you’ve had in a week and a half as a heavy weight rests in the dip of your waist and tugs you against a solid form. Plush lips ghost your temple. A heartbeat thrums in your ear and you feel the rise and fall of a chest.

Oh, you like this dream. He’s so real in this dream. It’s the first dream where death is not at his heels.

“You don’t know how I miss you,” he mutters into your ear. Stands of your loose hair brush back from your face. “How unbearable it is.”

His voice is so clear, so beautiful and vivid that it’s almost like he’s really with you. Humming contently, you huddle further into him. “Then stop leaving me,” you mumble.

Breath catches in his chest, no longer moving at a steady rhythm. “You're awake?”

Your brows knit—that's not a very ‘dream-like’ question; it threatens your lovely illusion—and then your eyes snap open.

“Feyd?” His nose is an inch from yours. Your hand raises to cup his cheek, just to see if he is real, and you gasp at how warm his skin is under your palm. “You're here,” you cry, quickly pushing him onto his back and crawling on top of him.

You press your lips to his, hard. A whimper is pulled from your throat when he parts his mouth so you can get a taste of his tongue. Yes, he’s definitely real.

Hands trail down your back to your ass, squeezing two handfuls of flesh and pushing your pelvis down onto his. He’s already hard and thick and pressing into you, the matching thin material of your nightgown and his sleep pants doing a pathetic job of maintaining any sort of barrier.

Feyd slowly drags the ink-toned silk up the curves and dimples of your body until it pools at your waist. Fingers graze your skin as they move lower to slide through your slick bare folds, and at his touch, your brain goes absolutely fuzzy. You’re unashamedly desperate, refusing to take any longer to get what you need, but when you finally free him from his pants and he thrusts up into you, you both find yourselves stopping. The kiss breaks and you simply breathe in each other’s breaths as he stays nestled deep inside you.

Your forehead falls to his. A fresh tear that you hadn’t noticed in your eye lands on his cheek. “You're ok,” you gently whimper, reassuring yourself of his safety. His nose nudges yours.

“When am I not?” he whispers as he catches the next tear with his thumb before it drops from your lower lashes.

“In my nightmares.”

His brow pinches in curiosity, cock twitching within your walls. “You dream about me?”

You lightly nod. “I thought this was a dream.”

“Why?”

“Because I had a sickening feeling you weren’t going to make it back this time. I know it was a routine trip, but I just couldn’t shake it,” you say. “And that would’ve killed me, Feyd. I love you.”

Feyd sucks in a short stream of air as his hips slightly buck up against yours. “You love me?” he repeats.

“Yes,” you exhale, riding the little high of pleasure that came from the sharp involuntary shift of his hips. “I was so scared to be right.”

Feyd's arms tighten around you and he tilts his chin up to connect your lips. Kisses travel along the line of your jaw and down the length of your neck. His tongue dips into the hollow of your throat.

“I love you,” he tells you.

Your stuffy chuckle settles into a grin. “I know you do.”

---

tag: @avidreader73

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha #dune part 2 #austin butler #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune

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scaredpigeons · 5 months

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Deus Auri

Zhongli x reader (gn)

Word count: 1.04k (smol)

CW: sfw:) mild spoilers for Neuvillettes voice lines about Morax, he calls him Deus Auri, which is god of gold in Latin— might just be a title but any little tidbit of Morax we get I just gobble gobble up. Flirting, zhongli calls you my dear, darling, vixen. No pronouns or other gender specific language used. Some kisses and allusions of wanting more.

Enjoy!

“Deus Auri.”

You can nearly hear the crack of Zhongli’s neck as his gaze whips towards you, but you keep your gaze trained on your book as if you hadn’t seen its comical swivel in your peripherals.

“I’m sorry my dear, could you repeat that?” He said, though there was an edge to his tone.

“Deus Auri—God of Gold. What can you tell me about that name?” You said, index finger gliding down the edge of the book. You were no longer reading, but still kept your eyes trained on the pages to pretend like you weren’t vibrating with excitement at his reaction.

Zhongli was naturally very stoic, a well maintained facade to those who weren’t interested in looking deeper.

You had been plenty interested, taking one look at him and instantly knowing he was no ordinary man.

Now the better part of half a year into your blossoming relationship, he still hadn’t outright told you, but he’d grown comfortable.

You’d catch glimpses of his wrists, normally covered— deep onyx with veins of pure gold. Though this only happened in the safety of his home— there was a time he had to remove his gloves to help you in the kitchen, and his perfectly pale, human hands had distracted you the entire time.

The glamor he kept up in public slipped a bit when he was more at ease.

To the eye that was actually looking, zhongli really wasn’t subtle about who he was.

“Well, why don’t we start with where you heard such a name?” He asked.

“I was with the traveler last week, helping she and paimon with a commission in Fontaine.”

You can see the minuscule wince he gives out of the corner of your eye. Just a twitch of the brows as he blinks, so graceful, but you catch it because you’re looking for it.

“I overheard a conversation she had with a lovely gentleman over there, though I didn’t get to introduce myself. He mentioned the name when the traveler was asking him about Rex Lapis.”

You closed your book, finally turning to look at him, though you kept your gaze coyly through heavy lids, peaking demurely at him through your lashes.

“And you know, I thought that was very strange, her asking him about Rex lapis, when she could learn anything and everything about him from our resident expert.”

“The traveler has not visited liyue to see me in some time, darling. And I'm sure there are others who’ve studied the gods. I am not the only knowledgeable one in Teyvat.”

“I know, I know.” You chewed on your lip a bit for effect, looking puzzled. “So who is this Deus Auri? Is it perhaps another one of Morax’s many names?”

You looked at him expectantly, grinning as he grew more stiff in his seat beside you. A mere foot of space between you on the couch and he looked like he was ready for you to pounce on him.

You wanted to, you have wanted to, but he so chivalrously insists upon taking it slow.

Hand holding in the harbour. Chaste kisses good night. You wanted so badly to break through his barriers but you knew he was holding back.

“You are…” he let a puff of air through his nose. “Correct in the knowledge that Morax was known to have many different names. Unfortunately that is all I can say on the matter.”

“So cryptic.” You squinted at him. He often shut you out when you pried like this, poking and prodding in places you know you shouldn’t be, but he was always kind and straightforward about it—so you usually dropped it as soon as he denied you.

“Do you think he had a favourite name that he went by?” You pushed a bit more, hoping to get him to give you just one more crumb before you played your cards. It was time, you were getting tired of hiding it.

He smiled thoughtfully, relaxing into the couch once more. “I’d like to think that he enjoyed the name Rex Lapis, the name given to him by his people. I’m sure it brought him a great sense of pride.”

You grinned, soaking in his expression and words. Knowing what you know— gods. He really was so cute sometimes.

You open up your book, stilling your grin to prepare for what was next.

“Really? I’d like to think Zhongli is his favourite. Retirement is a good look for him.”

You expected denial, perhaps his neck snapping back to you like it did when you first mentioned the ancient name.

What you didn’t expect was to be tackled to the floor, a gloved hand supporting your neck instinctively as you and your book tumbled along the floor with the blur of rich oranges and browns that took you down.

When you finally settled, you were on your back with him looming over you, pining you to the ground.

“You little vixen. How long have you known?” His eyes were wild, hair a mess, cheeks flushed and breathless. Disheveled.

He looked more beautiful now than you’d ever seen him before.

“From the moment you opened your mouth.”

He kissed his teeth in a quick tsk, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Nothing escapes you, does it? I knew I would be in trouble with you.”

You cupped his face in your hands, pulling him back towards you.

“And yet you kept me around regardless.” You smiled, giving him a quick, teasing peck on the lips.

“How could I not? You have an inescapable magnetism that I am completely captured by. I’m afraid to say that you’re unraveling me even as we now speak.”

You grinned at him, face feeling just as flush as his.

“How much more unraveling do I need to do to get you to let down those walls you keep around you?”

“They were gone the moment I saw that you knew the truth, my dear, you should have said something much sooner.” He tilted his head with a soft grin.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him ever closer.

“Kiss me then, you old blockhead.”

He gave a rumble in his chest that sounded very much like a growl, and it set your nerves on fire.

“Behave.” He said sternly.

“No promises,” you said as you kissed him.

#zhongli #zhongli fluff #rex lapis #genshin morax #genshin impact #genshin zhongli #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli fic #zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader fluff #fluff #genshin fluff

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steviewashere · 3 months

Text

Strawberry Jalapeño

Rating: General CW: Alcohol, References to Sex Tags: Established Relationship, Recreational Drinking, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington gets White Woman Margarita Drunk at Mexican Restaurants, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Future Fic

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is saving the last bite for them."

💕—————💕

A new Mexican restaurant opens up a block away from their apartment in 1992. Taqueria Las Palomas. They make it part of their date night circle. Tuesday dates are for the queer bar ten minutes sideways. Wednesdays they’d go to the park on a picnic. Thursdays are for non-competitive bowling that Eddie somehow always turns competitive. And Friday nights, well they’re—

“Margarita nights,” Steve had given. His smirk the size of the moon. His eyes glistening in excitement. His body vibrating with it. “Nachos. And margaritas.” He’d done one of his cute little hand gestures. Nachos was his right hand jumping into the air. Margaritas was his left. Funny enough, those are also the assigned hands in which he consumes them at the restaurant.

Point is, it’s a popular date night activity.

And it’s Friday. And Steve is practically bouncing up and down the sidewalk. Drifting from Eddie’s side. Nearly skipping to the destination. Every once in a while, Eddie has to catch up to him, pull him back by his left palm, and hook their elbows together just to maintain the distance. But, somehow, Steve still gets to the restaurant’s door first.

And, somehow, Eddie never gets tired of it.

Five bucks gets them the nacho platter. Three bucks gets them bottomless margaritas. Which, technically, three bucks gets Steve bottomless margaritas. For two bucks less, Eddie settles for a single Miller. He’s got to get Steve back home, alright? Can’t do that if they’re both wasted. (Steve gets especially drunk and ditzy. Who knew he was such a lightweight in the face of greasy nachos and some fruity little drink?)

They share the plate of nachos. Eddie will sometimes get a small bean and cheese burrito. Sometimes he’ll do in for a couple of carne asada tacos. But, typically, it’s just the nachos. He’s got kind of a light appetite all the time anyway. Steve, on the other hand, will get nachos and a burrito (Depends on his overall mood which one he gets. Mad? The steak burrito. Horny? A breakfast burrito. Look, don’t ask Eddie. He doesn’t know why the eggs and potatoes seem to do it for Steve).

But, because of Steve’s heavier appetite, they tend to tear through the nachos pretty goddamn quick. Which, really, is a shame. Eddie really loves the nachos. He’d eat them all day if he could. That being said, however, he usually lets Steve get the last bite. Usually being the key word.

Tonight, though, the nachos go by pretty quick, as expected. Steve’s got his breakfast burrito halfway gobbled through. And Eddie’s leaned back in his sticky booth, Miller up to his lips, guzzling down some lukewarm beer. Steve’s worked his way through three margaritas, his lips stained a deep pink, and he’s not swaying exactly, but he’s definitely a little bit clumsier. His eyes are pointed down at the plate of nachos.

One chip with all the toppings, jalapeños included (Eddie’s personal hell).

Steve’s fingers twitch on the tacky plastic top of the table. His bottom lip is jutted out. And his eyebrows are creased slightly. He’s adorable.

“Eds,” he begins.

“Go ahead, babydoll. If you want it, you can eat it.” He thinks he gets his point across clearly. Sure, maybe his breath does something a little mournful at the last chip being whisked away from him. But, unfortunately, his stomach doesn’t do well with jalapeños. Never has. Most likely never will.

Steve reaches out his right hand, dutifully, and grabs the tortilla chip in his loose tipsy grip. He brings it up to eye level. Eyes crossing at the little slice of jalapeño. Eddie holds back a chuckle.

Well, he tries really hard. Has to snicker into his can of beer. Steve looks like some puppy noticing a butterfly on a flower for the first time. He might eat it. Might.

Then, oddly, Steve brings the chip back down. He takes his margarita hand. Plucks the jalapeño from the top of the chip, places it on his also pink stained tongue, and brings his eyes to stare at Eddie.

He momentarily looks away from Steve’s puppy dog eyes. From his magenta lips and rose petal pink cheeks and his glazed tipsy sheen to his eyes. Tries to hide how hungry he is, not for the nachos, but for Steve’s beautiful face.

“Ed…Eddie,” Steve is whispering, a slur slightly noticeable in his speech. His margarita palm flops onto the table, patting incessantly at the back of Eddie’s right. “Eddie, gotta—I gotta surprise for you.”

Eddie looks back at him and hums. “What’s up, sweetheart? Whatcha got for me?”

Steve holds out the chip. His fingers are loosely grasping it. It could fall at any moment, really. But he looks like he’s trying really hard to just raise it to Eddie’s face. “Made this,” he murmurs. “Took the spicy thing off.” He knows what it’s called. Eddie should probably cut him off from his margaritas in a second. “‘Ts for you, Eds.” And then he’s bringing it closer to Eddie’s face, so much so now he has to cross his eyes, and jams the softened edge to Eddie’s lips.

It really is the perfect chip. Cheese and guac and sour cream, steak and some of the pico de gallo. And, yeah, Steve took the jalapeño off just for him.

“Eds, you gotta open your mouth. Saved it—Made it for you.”

So, he does. Lets Steve feed it to him. Eddie wraps his hand around Steve’s wrist, steadying his hold. His thumb rubs over Steve’s pulse point, it’s fast and warm. And he looks back at Steve, his eyes dilated, yet full of love.

“Thank you, baby,” Eddie says through his mouthful. Steve’s face stretches with his syrupy smile. Gooey with something. “That was very thoughtful of you.”

“It’s cause I—Cause you were sad, Eds,” Steve conspires, leaning in—his hands spread wide and out on the table. “Was thinking of you ‘cause I like it when you’re happy.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he feels the need to say again. “You made and continue to make me very happy.”

“I also love you. Was thinking about that, too,” Steve says.

Eddie snickers a little bit. Steve’s a sentimental drunk, he should’ve pointed out sooner. A very sentimental drunk. His eyes are shiny with tears and his face is wonderfully pink, there’s guac in the corner of his mouth, his breath smells like strawberries and jalapeño. And he’s probably the most beautiful and kind person Eddie’s ever come to know.

“Love you, too, sweetheart. Now, finish up your sex burrito,” Eddie teases a little. “Gotta get you home soon and take care of you.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve slurs back.

They won’t actually do anything, Eddie knows that. He’ll get Steve some water. And they’ll curl up on the couch and watch reruns of Golden Girls until Steve falls asleep over the length of Eddie’s torso. And he’ll slither out from underneath him, carry his heavy body to bed, and cuddle him with both arms. But in the morning, Eddie will make sure Steve knows just how loved he is.

For now, he just gazes. Lets himself become drunk on what it means to truly and irrevocably love somebody like Steve Harrington.

💕—————💕

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 11 #tooth rotting fluff #fluff

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 6 months

Text

Gobble You Up

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: Visiting your parents for Thanksgiving and you show Eddie your old room. He takes the opportunity for more.

18+ only

You gave Eddie a reassuring smile as the two of you approached your childhood home. You had been dating for a few months now and he agreed to come home with you for Thanksgiving and meet your parents. You could tell he was nervous, he'd told you parents didn't tend to like him on sight, but you had no doubt he would win your mom and dad over. Your parents were not hard to impress.

Your mom threw open the door, beaming from ear to ear at seeing you back home, standing on her porch. She pulled you into a big hug and then immediately pulled Eddie into one too. He looked a bit surprised, eyes going wide. But then he smiled, his arms coming around the small woman, touched at her affection that she gave so freely. You knew his mom hadn't been around since he was a kid and it was probably a bit shocking to experience a mother's warmth when you'd only just met but that was your mom.

"I am so glad you two could make it!" she exclaimed. "You must be Eddie. We've been dying to meet you. Y/n talks about you non-stop on the phone."

"Oh, hopefully all good things," he said, his neck flushing from the compliment and he pulled at his collar slightly. He was just waiting for the ax to fall, for her to give a reason why he wasn't right for her daughter.

"You should hear her gushing about how wonderful you are," your mom laughed, pinching his cheek gently. "Sorry, just had to prove to myself that you're real. The way she makes it out, you're just about perfect."

Eddie laughed, his cheeks blazing red at the compliment. "I promise you I'm as real as they come. Thank you so much for inviting me."

"Of course! Anyone who makes our daughter so happy is always welcome. Come in!"

The two of you entered your childhood home, the home that hadn't changed since you were a kid. Eddie paused at the pictures of you through the years that lined the buffet in the entryway. He grabbed one of you as a child and held it out, smiling.

"You were adorable," he commented, clutching it to his chest, those lush lips pouting.

You rolled your eyes, "Shut up. That was when my mom cut my hair herself."

"Well, I think you're cute as a button," he said, his finger pressing gently against your nose. "Still are."

The same floral pattern couches sat in the living room that your mom bought when you were ten. And there was your dad's recliner with your dad in it, as usual. He rose up as soon as he caught sight of you two and pulled you close before offering his hand to Eddie.

"Good to meet you, son," he boomed, patting Eddie on the back.

"You too sir," Eddie responded nervously.

"Oh, no need for that," your dad laughed, "just call me Keith. You're practically family now the way our girl talks about you."

Eddie's eyes widened. "Wow. You guys are really welcoming. I have to admit, I was a bit nervous."

"No need to be nervous," your dad assured him. "You make our little girl happy and that's all we care about. You're more than welcome."

Eddie reached over and squeezed your hand, that dimple you loved so much appearing on his cheek. A warmth spread through you at how quickly he was made to feel at home because you knew this was where he belonged forever. It may have only been a few months, but you knew this was it for you. He was your everything.

"Y/n, why don't you show Eddie your room? You guys can relax for a bit after your long drive," your mom offered. "Your dad and I have to run to the store real quick to get a few things for dinner tomorrow and I want to make it there before they close."

"Oh, are you sure you don't want me to run with you mom?" you ask.

"No," your mom laughed, "you guys just got here. It was a long day for you. Just go on up and rest. I am sure you need it. We'll only be gone for about an hour or so."

Your parents headed out and Eddie glanced over at you. You could tell what he was thinking without him even having to say it. His eyes had darkened, a little smirk playing along his lips as he grabbed your hip, pulling you close against him.

"We have a whole hour to ourselves, whatever will we do to fill the time?" he teased.

You could already feel his excitement pressing against your lower belly and it flared white-hot desire in you. You slid your hands along his arms and up his shoulders, looping them behind his neck.

"Well, my mom did say I should show you my childhood room," you replied.

"I would very much like to see where your bed is."

You grabbed his hand, dashing up the stairs and pulling him behind you. Your bedroom was the second one on the left and you threw open the door, intending to shove him on the bed and rip off all his clothes but he stopped in the doorway, his hand tugging against yours.

He was gazing around your room, soaking in every detail. You looked around, trying to see it through his eyes. The blue comforter covered in daisies, the stuffed animals propped on a beanbag chair in the corner, the desk with the typewriter where you did all your homework in high school, the posters that covered your walls. Your mom hadn't changed anything since you'd left. Your train of thought was broken when you heard Eddie chuckling.

"Bon Jovi," he snorted, pointing.

"Shut up!" you snapped, glancing at your life-size poster of Jon that still hung on your wall. "Maybe Bon Jovi isn't metal enough for you but Jon is sexy as fuck."

"Ohh, is he now?" Eddie purred, slowly walking toward you. Grabbing your arm, he spun your body so you were facing the poster, your back pressed against him. His hands slid around to your breasts, massaging them through your top as his lips pressed gentle kisses along your neck. "And is Mr. Bon Jovi hotter than me?"

"No," you breathed, struggling to focus as his hands moved down along your abdomen, brushing the bare skin above your jeans. "No one is hotter than you."

"Good girl," he growled, nipping at the tender flesh on your neck and you cried out. His fingers nimbly undid your jeans, his hand sliding underneath your panties. "Did you used to lay in here and touch yourself while you looked at Jon?" His index finger found your clit, making slow, torturous circles. "Oh, you're so wet already princess. Is that for me or Jon?"

"You..." you struggled to say through the waves of pleasure that were sweeping you under. It was always the same with Eddie. You lost all sense of the world around you when he was touching you.

His finger slid along your folds, gently pushing inside of you and you gasped, bucking your hips against his hand. His other hand gripped your jaw, pulling your head to the side so he could have full access to your neck. A second finger joined the first, the rhythm of his movement picking up speed. A litany of curses and sounds no human should be able to create erupted from you.

"Mmm...is this just how you sounded when you lay in that bed touching yourself?"

"No," you whispered, "because I could never make myself feel as good as you do."

"That's right. No one can make you feel as good as I do," he responded, his fingers sliding out of you.

You whimpered at the sudden loss of him but then he grabbed your jeans, pulling them down your thighs and away from your feet, tossing them across the room. He placed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you until your back hit the wall.

"I know what I want for Thanksgiving dessert," he said, a wicked smile on his face as he dropped to his knees, hiking your thigh over his shoulder. "Mmm...gobble, gobble baby."

It was so ridiculous you wanted to laugh but then his tongue was on you, teasing along your clit, sliding along your folds, dipping into you and back out and you for anything else but the feel of him. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you lost all focus but you had to focus on keeping your one leg steady. It was the only thing keeping you from falling over. Your palms spread wide as they held the wall behind you, desperate for any support you could find.

"Jesus Christ Eddie..." you groaned.

His tongue swirled lazy circles around your clit before flicking at it rapidly. The sudden change in sensation was overwhelming. He continued this torturous pattern as his hands slid along your thighs and then his fingers were back inside of you, relentless in their pulsing.

"Fuck Thanksgiving dinner," he growled, sucking your clit in between his lips. "I just want to feast here all goddamn weekend."

One of your hands left the wall, the other remaining to hold yourself up. You buried your fingers in his hair, grinding yourself against his face, keeping him right where you needed him. He moaned against your pussy and the vibrations sent more waves of pleasure rocketing through you.

"Oh baby, I'm so close..." you moaned.

His tongue swept over your clit quickly, back and forth and then up and down. His fingers curved, rubbing against your walls in the exact perfect place to send you barreling over the edge. You screamed his name, shaking from head to foot, your leg giving out from under you.

Eddie caught you, sliding you into his lap and you sighed, resting your forehead against his shoulder. He pressed kisses along your cheek, nibbling on your ear, moving along your jaw, following a path to your shoulder. You could already feel yourself stirring again just at the feel of his lips along your flesh.

You grabbed his face, smashing your lips against his, gently pulling at his bottom lip with your teeth. He moaned against your mouth, gripping your ass in his hands. You stood up, him following suit, and feverishly worked on his jeans to get them off of him, quickly followed by his shirt.

Pressing your hands against his chest, you gave a sharp shove, sending him backwards onto the bed before crawling slowly over top of him, straddling his hips.

"Goddamn baby," he murmured, his eyes hooded with desire, his hands digging into your hips. "I like when you get feisty."

Smiling, you gripped his cock in your hand, sliding yourself along it but not letting it enter you. He cursed, his head falling back against the pillow, those beautiful mahogany waves splayed out like a mane. You slid the length of him all along your folds before allowing just the tip to slide past your entrance before pulling back.

"Jesus Christ..." he moaned, those fingers on your hips digging in so hard you were sure you'd have marks tomorrow. You didn't mind. Eddie had never truly hurt you, but you liked a little rough play. It gave you pleasure to wake up and see a little mark from his teeth or imprints from his fingers, reminding you that he was completely yours and you were his.

You slid the tip of him around your clit, using his cock for your own pleasure. Gripping him, your ran your hand up and down his length, allowing just the tip of him to enter you again before denying him once more.

"Shit baby, stop teasing me," he pleaded. "I need to be inside you now."

You slowly lowered yourself, taking all of him in. You moaned softly at how he completely filled you. Your hands gripped his shoulders as you began to ride him, propped on your knees as you lifted and lowered yourself on his cock.

"Fuck, you feel like heaven," he groaned, his fingers splayed wide over your hips, gripping them as he moved with you, bringing his own up as you brought yours down.

Your fingernails dug into his flesh and he hissed softly through his teeth. His hands slid from your hips, along your stomach, cupping your breasts. His thumbs began to brush over your nipples and you bit your lip, moving your hips in circles. This motion caused Eddie's cock to hit the most delicious places within you.

"Jesus Christ," you breathed.

Eddie gripped your hips again as he began to thrust up faster and harder. You gasped, gripping his chest for dear life as your body bounced vigorously with his thrusting.

"God, I love watching your tits when you ride me," he growled. "You look like a fucking goddess."

His thumb found your clit, stroking it as he continued to thrust. You arched your back, your hands moving to his thighs, whimpering as you moved closer and closer to the edge of sweet oblivion.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" you screamed, gripping his thighs for dear life as you rode out your orgasm, your whole body convulsing.

Eddie hand left your clit and grabbed onto your waist, steadying you as he drove into you even faster. His thrusts were causing you to feel like you might bounce right off of him. He screamed out your name as you felt his release.

"Jesus Christ..." he moaned, grabbing you and pulling you down on top of him. "Fuck, you are amazing."

"Mmm...you're pretty amazing yourself," you murmured, pleasantly numb from your head to your toes.

Eddie's hands grabbed your face, placing a gentle kiss against your lips.

"Well, I know what I'm thankful for," he said with a grin.

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader #thanksgiving fic #eddie x reader #eddie the freak munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine

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leossmoonn · 6 months

Text

snow day | mike schmidt

summary - abby has a snow day and spends it with you and mike

warnings / includes - not edited

————

“hey, abs,” mike whispers, shaking her away. she groans and pushes his hand away. “i don’t want to go to school.”

mike glances at you, seeing the excited smile on your face. “you don’t have to, abby.”

she opens one eye. “why?” “your school called and cancelled school. you have a snow day!” you exclaim.

abby sits up in bed, a big smile on her face. “we can build a fort and a snowman!”

“you got great ideas, babe,” you grin at her. “do you want to sleep in some more or are you hungry?”

“i’m hungry,” abby says. “can i have waffles with chocolate chips?”

“you sure can. get to work, chef,” you turn to mike. he chuckles softly. “i need my sous chef.”

“alright. you need any help getting ready?” you ask abby. “no,” she says, hopping out of bed and heading to her closet.

“okay. call us if you need anything. we’ll be in the kitchen.”

you and mike make your way to the kitchen, grabbing a box of pre-made pancake mix and putting some milk and eggs into it. mike’s hands rest on your waist, his chin sitting on your shoulder as you both wait for the batter to cook. you lean into his chest, enjoying the warmth radiating from him. it’s so cold in his house during winter time since he tries to cut down on the electric bills, but you don’t mind. you had him as a portable blanket and he doesn’t mind. it’s an excuse for him to be closer to you.

“you sure you can take work off today?” you ask. “yeah,” mike nods. “even if i couldn’t, i am not driving in that mess.”

you both look out the window. you got eight inches of snow. you didn’t even want to try and walk in it, much else drive.

“well, i’m glad we can take the day off.” you spin yourself around, leaning your back against the counter. mike smiles, “me, too. it’s well-deserved for both of us.” he leans in, pulling your lips in a slow kiss. you sigh into him, your eyes fluttering shut like you’re in a movie. his kisses always make your brain feel numb and body tingly.

little footsteps pad behind two. mike is quick to pull away, positioning himself to where he’s beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back.

“did you out chocolate chips in the waffles?” abby asks. “yes, ma’am,” you answer.

she sits down at the table, placing her crayons and blank pieces of paper in front of her. after the whole freddy’s fiasco, she’s stopped drawing those kids and now has started drawing her friends from school and her teachers. she’s been very into drawing you and mike, as well as your cat that you and mike are 99% sure she’s plotting to steal.

“you should show that drawing to cornelius, abby. he’ll probably be confused that there’s two of them,” you remark.

“or you can bring him here and we can keep him,” abby says.

you can’t help but snort at her request. “maybe if mike invites me to move in.”

mike rolls his eyes, flipping the waffle maker and taking the waffle out. “you basically already live here. your cat probably thinks you’ve abandoned him.”

“not true. i haven’t stayed a night here in a couple weeks.”

“mmm, yeah. what’s up with that?”

“been busy. you miss me or something?” you grab some plates and silverware, starting to set up the table.

“maybe,” he says. you glance at him, catching the coy smile playing on his face.

“after breakfast can we make a snowman ?” abby asks.

“sure,” you nod. “it’s cold, abby,” mike says.

“there’s nothing else to do here. and i want to build the fort after we go outside.”

“that’s not a bad idea,” you look at mike. “i’ll look if we have a carrot for the nose.

abby eyes light up and mike shoot you a glare. you pat his back gingerly, grabbing some napkins and cups.

“you have to put on a sweatshirt and coat, okay? and a hat and gloves,” mike says. abby let’s our a big sigh. “fine,” she says, knowing it’s part of the seam.

abby gobbles down a waffle and a half before she pops up out of her seat like a jack-in-the-box, running to her room and putting on all her warm clothes. she throws on a beanie and grabs a scarf, having you help her tuck it into her coat.

“hurry up, guys! the snow will melt!” abby exclaims, running to the door.

“hey, hey, hey,” mike stand up. “i’ll get my coat on so at least one of us is outside with you.” he goes into hips room and grabs his winter coat and some boots.

“here, you need this.” you slip a black beanie onto his head. “i’ll be fine.”

“you made abby bundle up, so you need to, too,” you say. “fine. don’t worry about the dishes, i’ll clean them up after this.” mike kisses you on the cheek before going outside.

you at least put the dishes in the sink before getting yourself ready to go outside. you close the door behind you, seeing the bottom hall of the snowman already standing.

“that was fast,” you say. “abby was very enthusiastic. now she’s a little tired i think,” mike says.

“it’s hard to roll snowballs, even for me. they always fall apart when i do it,” you sigh.

“ah, finally something you’re not good at,” mike grins at you. you roll your eyes and punch his shoulder, a smile breaking the straight line on your lips. “i’m pretty good at this.” you say as you bend down and pick up a handful of snow, molding it into a small hall and throwing it right at mike’s face.

“hey, i’m right next to you! that not fair!”

you give him a wink, walking over to abby to help her roll a snowball. you’re almost done when you feel snow it the back of your neck. you gasp and look up, seeing mike’s hands in his pockets.

“what?” he asks, a telling smile on his face. “abby schmidt, would you like to form an alliance with me in a snowball fight against your brother?” you turn to her as you help her put the body of the snowman on.

“yes, duh!” she giggles. “looks like you’re alone, micheal,” you look at him, putting your arm around abby.

he shrugs, making another snowball. “i’m not worried.” he hits you in the face like you did to him.

“looks like we have a war on our hands,” you remark.

you and abby end up using half of the snowman as your shield. mike is careful not to knock down the snow balls, but he has impeccable aim from playing little league, so it’s no sweat for him. abby is your snowball supplier. her little hands mold them quickly, handing them to you one after the other as you aim them at mike’s face and chest.

“you getting cold with all the snow in your clothes, schmidt?” you ask.

“nope. i’m pretty warm, which means you suck at this.” he throws a snow ball at you, hitting your shoulder. the snow fans across your neck, hitting a sliver of skin where your scarf doesn’t cover.

“we need to make a huge snowball,” you whisper to abby. “on it,” she nods excitedly. she’s already lined up 10 snowballs for you to use in the meantime.

“no conspiring secretly!” mike says. “we can do what we want!” you laugh, throwing another snowball, throwing it with too much force to where it lands behind him.

mike ends up using a tree as his shield. even with it’s small branches, you find it more difficult. you look down at abby, seeing a snowball half the size of your snowman.

“good job, babe,” you pat her back. “after this can i have some hot chocolate?” abby asks.

“of course. we can celebrate with it,” you grin. you look back at mike who aims a snowball at your head, knocking your beanie off. “oh, it is on.”

you and abby stand up, carrying the big ball of snow. it’s heavier than you thought it would be, but you’re hopefully that this will work.

“woah.” mike’s jaw drops. “this is really not fair. i don’t have a teammate to do that with!”

“sucks to suck i guess,” you laugh. you and abby count down and throw the snowball at mike, causing him to tumble over. it covers most of his body, his face covered in snow now. “we won!” you exclaim, high-fiving abby.

“alright, nice play guys. next time i’ll get you,” he says, dusting himself off.

“we’ll see about that,” you grin.

you three make the rest of the snowman, using a carrot for his nose and blueberries for his eyes and smile. you grab your scarf and wrap it around his neck, mike grabbing a baseball hat from his closet and putting it on the snowman’s head.

“very nice,” mike remarks. “let’s go inside. i’m so cold,” abby says, running to the door.

“yeah, i’m going to take a shower,” mike says as you all step inside.

“me too,” abby says.

you and mike let abby shower first. mike showers after her and you make all of you hot chocolate and bake some cookies in the shape of christmas cutters.

you take a quick shower after mike, more so to warm you up than anything. you pull on one of mike’s sweaters and some pj pants. when you exit the bedroom, you find abby and mike building a fort over the tv.

“good idea, guys,” you say, grabbing your mug and sipping some hot cocoa.

“can we watch a movie?” abby asks. “of course,” you nod.

abby puts on a christmas movie, laying on her stomach in front of you two. mike is laying against the bottom of the couch with you in his arms.

“mm, i’m so sleepy,” you yawn, snuggling up to his chest. “that snowball fight wear you down?” mike asks.

“unfortunately, yes. i’m surprised you’re not snoring already.”

“i do not snore.”

“oh, yes you do.”

“well, you sing in your sleep.”

“you’re making that up,” you laugh. he shakes his head. “the other night you were singing ‘crazy train’ or something.”

“that is…” you breathe out, “a lie.”

“i’ll record you next time, how about that?”

“okay. prepare to be wrong.”

he chuckles and kisses your forehead, hugging you tighter. “i love you.”

you hum and smile, reaching up and kissing his lips. “i love you more.”

————

taglist

@celestbarnes

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x you

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hp-hcs · 6 months

Note

am just gonna bombard you with requests until instructed otherwise because i've found my new favourite writer✨

but how about the theo's x obscurus male reader (yandere or not, both theo's or not) honestly i'll gobble up whatever given - yxdls

freaks — yandere! theodore nott x obscurial! male! reader

tws: implied/referenced child abuse; snape being a dick

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

To be honest, nobody had really ever noticed Y/N L/N until he came back from winter break with a black eye and a broken nose; and with just one snide comment from a certain Potions professor, he promptly exploded into the most terrifying thing any of them had ever seen.

An Obscurus.

It’d been the first class back from the break. Someone clearly must’ve hated the fifth years, because the new schedule listed Potions as the first class on a Monday morning. Exhausted, all of the fifth years had trudged in and taken a seat, too tired to care about any accidental inter-house mingling.

Professor Snape was having none of it. His beady eyes flashed as he surveyed his class of half-asleep teenagers.

“When an adult says good morning, it is polite to respond.”

“Good morning, Professor Snape,” the class mumbled in a completely exasperated tone.

His lip had curled back into a sneer. Opening his mouth to, presumably, berate the class, he was interrupted by the late arrival of a student.

“Mr. L/N. How wonderful of you to join us. We surely wouldn’t want to waste any more of your precious time.”

The boy in the doorway tried to shrink in on himself. He looked so small and lost with that busted up nose and eye. He started to make an apology, but made it barely two words in before Snape struck again.

“Perhaps it would be beneficial for you all to take a note of Mr. L/N as living proof that Charles Darwin’s theory was not without some error. Mr. L/N, if you would research the term natural selection and write ten inches of parchment on the subject. You can turn it in to me tomorrow morning. Take a seat.”

The boy’s cheeks burned with embarrassment and shame as he scrambled to a seat in the back row.

“Natural selection,” the professor intoned. “The riddance of those who are not well-suited to their environment. That is, abnormalities or freaks of nature.”

The class glanced back at the previously unknown boy. Who was this kid? Why did Snape have a vendetta against him?

Something in the ashamed boy’s eyes flashed. At the word ‘freaks’, he visibly broke.

A low rumble filled the classroom, making Snape pause mid-sentence. With a resounding crack, the flagstones just inches from the professor’s feet split and shattered, like someone had taken a sledgehammer to them.

Snape jumped back, his head snapping up in a panic. The walls began to shake and rumble threateningly. From the belittled boy in the back row, an odd dark mist was beginning to form, slowly swirling around his body before engulfing him completely.

The kids around him scrambled away in a panic, the entire class rushing to the doors. Theodore sat still, stunned as he watched the terrifying scene.

One of his friends tugged on his sleeve, shouting something that was immediately swallowed by the sound as the odd swirling mist began to pick up speed, whipping papers and quills around the room.

The crack that ran through the flagstone floor began to spread with an ominous rumbling, the stone walls beginning to shake and spiderweb with fractures. A dust cloud of debris emanated from every fissure, choking up the air and reducing any visibility.

A sound, like a small child crying, seemed to echo around the room. Theo, stuck in place, watched with wide eyes as the mist- no, whirlwind, began growing, getting more and more violent.

The whirlwind lashed out, reducing Snape’s desk to splinters. The crying got louder, and a sharp burst of magic from the whirlwind sent Theodore flying, hitting the ground hard and scrambling for cover under a table.

For just a split second, so fast that Theo barely had time to notice, the mist of the whirlwind parted, revealing a white glowing form in the center. The form was vaguely humanoid in shape, curled up on the ground in the fetal position with its hands clasped tight over its ears. Its shoulders heaved with the force of its sobs, and then it was gone, swallowed back up by the storm.

Theo wracked his brain for the beaten boy’s name, scrabbling for any memory he had of the kid who had always previously gone unnoticed.

“Y/N!”

The storm…paused, sort of. The debris that had been in the process of being thrown across the room halted midair, hanging suspended for a split second before whipping back around with a stronger fury.

The shattering of glass made Theo instinctively cover his face, smashed potions and vials sending shards of certain death flying through the air.

“Y/N! Y/N, you have to stop!” Theodore shouted, pleaded.

The storm howled with shrieking fury, leaking anguish and total despair.

“Y/N! He’s wrong about you!”

A chair was sent hurtling towards him.

Ducking, Theo continued talking, raising his voice over the wailing of the storm.

“I want to help, Y/N!”

The storm paused again, for longer this time. A cauldron, suspended midair just inches from whacking into Theo’s skull, dripped some sort of potion onto his leg, burning something awful.

That was a problem for a different time, Theo figured.

“I want to! I want to help! You don’t deserve to be treated the way you are!”

The storm drew back a bit, the iron cauldron clanging to the floor and spinning around in circles as the dark mist of the storm retreated.

Theo tried his last saccharine sentiment. “You deserve to be happy!”

With a loud whoosh, the storm completely vanished, quills and chairs dropping to the floor with a loud clatter. The boy—Y/N—sat on the floor in the same way as the glowing form had; fetal position, hands over his ears. His skin crackled, and dark sparks snapped and fizzed from it, although he seemed to pay no mind.

Theodore stumbled to his feet from under his table and carefully picked his way through the debris of the classroom to kneel down a comfortable distance away from the crying boy.

“Hey, hey, there you go. That’s better. Are you alright?”

Y/N looked up with a tear-stricken expression, wiping his sleeve across his face and sniffling. “‘m not a freak, I swear. Please don’t send me back.”

“You’re not,” Theo soothed. “I won’t. Snape was way out of bounds with that one.”

Y/N sniffled again, a fresh wave of tears streaming down his face. “He called me a freak.”

At the sight of the boy before him, sobbing pathetically over his douchebag teacher, Theo felt himself burn with rage.

How could anyone hurt this boy? Who’s done absolutely nothing wrong?

“I’ll make him pay, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

#harry potter #fuck jkr #hp #hp x male reader #x male reader #gay #x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott #yandere theodore nott

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xplsn · 1 year

Note

Hi, ermh I would like to know more about your dilf!bakugou with a breeding kink ✋

cw: dilf!bakugou, breeding kink, hair pulling kink, oral, unprotected sex, afab parts mentioned, body worship, mentions of tits but if you don't have any you can still imagine its your pecs!! cumplay, sexting etc.

music: you know what's up. link.

a/n: you bet your pretty little ass i'm gonna go on a rant about dilf bakugou any chance i get 🤤 oh and i added some pics because i wanted to give you a visual representation of me while writing this but if you're on desktop the pictures might look a little wonky so sorry about that!!

grrr. he's so salvating. would put my whole pussy out in the open anywhere anytime if it pleases him.

he's in in 40s, more mature and he's aging like fine wine. got a bomb ass uppercut, piercings(lip and ears hello??), big beefy arms, a glimpse of a beard, big juicy titties spilling out of his classic black tanktop, scars from all the years of hero work all over his body that just make him sexier . he's a big booty bitch too!!

dilf!bakugou spending those hours lost doing hero work fucking you and pampering you in ways your sure no one's ever heard of because he didn't get to earlier in his prime as a hero.

dilf!bakugou that fucks you in doggy any chance he gets. obsessed with how deep his cock gets in you in that position. loves watching your ass jiggle, and this position gives him the best chance to let go of all his pent up tension.

dilf!bakugou that's ruthless when he wants to be. has a god sex stamina. can go round after round like nothing else mattered. fucks you till his legs don't work properly.

dilf!bakugou that after he gets tired makes you ride yourself on him. if you thought he'd stop after he got tired then you're dead wrong because he'd still help you bounce on his cock.

dilf!bakugou that has an obsession with your pussy.

dilf!bakugou that begs you to sit on his face till he turns purple.

dilf!bakugou gobbling you down like you're his last meal. your slick and cum running down his throat, your hand tugging at his hair, his nose teasing your clit as you grind up and down.

dilf!bakugou that makes you cum at least 5 times on his fingers and tounge alone.

dilf!bakugou that is obsessed with creampies. loves watching his cum run down and ruin his sheets. fucks you over and over till your bloated and full with loads and loads of his cum.

dilf!bakugou that lets his most vulnerable faces and sounds out around you.

dilf!bakugou losing his fucking mind as you dominate him in the amazon position. his curls bouncing on his face as he clings onto the sheets for dear life almost ripping them.

dilf!bakugou's thick ringed fingers stretching you for all your worth.

dilf!bakugou that has sensitive nips that you love to suckle on.

speaking of nips,

dilf!bakugou that's obsessed with your tits. It doesn't matter if they're big or small, a titty is a titty and he needs it in his face.

dilf!bakugou that'll suck on your tits all the time. not just when he's horny, even when he isn't will force you to lift your shirt so he can just lay on your chest with a titty in his mouth as you do a mundane task like scrolling on your phone or reading.

if you lactate then it’s over for you because that man will be on your tits for the rest of his life.

he'll be balls deep in you and then get an urge to suck on your tits so he'll stop and lay on you as he slurps on them.

dilf!bakugou that holds you down on his cock as your sucking him with both hands, making you just be able to breath his musky scent cause he's that selfish .

dilf!bakugou that loves watching you gag on his cock.

dilf!bakugou that loves reducing you to tears.

dilf!bakugou that smells like a masculinity blend of his musk and something like patchouli and toffee.

dilf!bakugou that has you on his back as he does push ups to see if he still got it.

dilf!bakugou that'll carry you around by throwing you over his shoulder or by bridal.

dilf!bakugou that gets bath things like bath salts, and oils and scents so you and him can have a relaxing bath date every week. he'll rest is head against the tiles as you rest yours on his chest listening to his heart beat. cause god knows how much his body needs it. he's doing this 99% for himself but you don't need to know that plus it gives him an excuse to be with you more!

expect a lot of sexting. sure he's slowing down on hero work because his body and mind can't take it but he's still a hero so there will still be long nights spent in his agency doing paperwork and what not.

so he expects you to send loads of lewd pics and videos on those lonely nights spent at his office desk.

dilf!bakugou that can't keeps his eyes off of you. even though he's not a big fan of PDA he will hold your hand, keep you very close to you and on days where he just can't get enough of you, he'll whisper naughty things in your ear that leave you leaking and making a run for it to your house.

dilf!bakugou that buys you lots of lingere and undergarments specially tailored and custom just for you.

dilf!bakugou that has fucked you in every corner in the house.

dilf!bakugou that bends you over tables or counters. and makes you be pantie-less most of the time because it just gives him better access.

dilf!bakugou that will see it fit that all your cravings are satisfied because you are his it, and he'd be a fool to not make you his and honestly, you're his only will to keep going and wake up in the morning everyday.

dilf!bakugou that's big on body worship. will spend hours teasing every corner of your body until he reaches the spot you've been aching for this entire time. sucking and leaving hickies all over your body in his wake specially in places he knows only he'll get to see. like the insides of your thighs and the valleys between your breasts.

dilf!bakugou that would create minor problems, just so you two would argue and he could angry fuck you.

dilf!bakugou that knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. because aside from the amazing sex, you make him whole again.

#withoutyou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou #katsuki #bakugou katsuki x y/n #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki smut #mha smut #mha oneshot #bakugou katsuki drabble #dilf!bakugou #dilf!katsuki #dilf!katsukibakugou #mha fic #mha x y/n #mha bakugou

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bored-storyteller · 9 months

Text

Warning: gore, cannibalism (between ghouls)

Author's note: I realized that I was much braver with Uta at first. Let's try again.

Tokyo Ghoul, Uta x Human!Reader

What is mine

There is a smell of blood in the putrid air. Your blood.

The ghoul holds you in its arms like a sacrificial victim.

“That's mine.”

“I didn't know, sorry...I'm not the type to go around stealing other people's food, believe me.”

Looks nice, him. He has dyed blond and blue hair that escapes from his wildly done bun. His locks fall on a face that would look like an angel's, if it weren't for those veins that flow like streams from the black and red eyes of a demon. He doesn't have to shine with intelligence since he doesn't wear the mask, or maybe he trusts too much in his abilities, for someone so average.

Uta picks you up when the younger ghoul hands you over to him: you are cold, you are shaking, you are crying. He doesn't know if you're paralyzed with fear or blood loss from that wound on your shoulder.

Your blood tickles his sense of smell, and his palate. Your fingers grip his sweater, and he holds you just tighter. He doesn’t blame the other one, your perfume is intoxicating now that your flesh is uncovered.

He mustn't be happy to give up on you, he wouldn't if Uta weren't so much stronger than him.

The Mask Maker gently puts you on the ground, he feels your fear: you are afraid of everything now, even him.

That person tried to take you away from him, to keep you for himself. And that person expects him to get you now.

“Luckily I'm hungry.” He says as he looks into your eyes. If you can be more afraid than you already are, he doesn't know. But it doesn’t matter.

The ghoul with the beautiful face was going to say something, but it's hard to talk when your vocal cords are torn.

The carotid artery hangs from the bite mark like a slack string, part of it between Uta's teeth; a flick of the tongue and it disappears between the lips.

The eyes of the predator victim are wide open, incredulous. Gorgeous, perhaps.

How long can it take for that slit throat to heal? A lot of time. Too little.

Uta bites again, blood gushes, there is a muffled scream.

The taste of that meat has nothing to do with the smell you give off, but Uta is hungry.

He's hungry, and your broken skin makes him lose control.

Someone must be eaten by him.

That ghoul wanted to eat you.

He wanted him to eat you himself.

He was about to lose you, in a way or another.

His hands dig into his chest, the intricate black patterns on his fingers covered in ferrous red.

“What a greedy you are... you already ate, huh?”

The stomach of the other demon is full, Uta wonders who is in there: “It was he a boy? A girl? Young or old? An unfortunate student? All of them?”

Uta smiles. That won't be of any use now that it's out of the body, it's not right to waste it.

He won't even need his intestines, right?

And the heart? What does the unfortunate one do with his heart?

The bones crunch as they crack and open, like the crust that covers the filling.

Maybe it still moves, or maybe it doesn't, but it doesn't matter.

The teeth sink in like in an apple, they tear it, now there is no more life. But is the soul still there?

Uta is full, but still gobbles it up. He devours that body that is not meant to be eaten, that modifies his, that drives his mind crazy. Assuming Uta can go any crazier than that.

No, he can't freak out, there's you. But Uta is crazy to love you.

“Uta!”

Your voice sounds desperate. How long have you been calling him?

He looks at you with his delicate face smeared, the top of the other ghoul's skull hanging from his fingers gripping his blond hair.

Now he comes to you, he promises you. He just has to make sure you don't get eaten too.

“Is there still a soul in these eyes?” He asks the half head as he brings it up to his gaze. He can't even tell where the jaw and tongue have gone, but that's not a problem.

Those eyes that stare at him glassy and half open Uta hates them. He doesn't even bother to remove them from the eye socket; he rips the first one off with just his teeth and swallows it whole, then does the same with the other one. It's not difficult, and if inside there is the core of that stupid, then he lets it rot in his depths together with the remains of his body.

Now there is no more danger for you.

The head rolls away, no one will wonder what happened to someone like him. It's a ghoul who disappeared in the fourth ward, at the end.

Uta calls your name as he leans in front of you, sweet and gentle as ever.

He watches your hand press on the wound on your shoulder: "Let me see." He asks you softly.

You obey, but you still smell of terror. You've never seen him eat like this, not someone like him.

The fingers that used to butcher now fearfully touch the edge of your wound.

"It's not serious... you’ll be ok, everything is fine." He murmurs reassuringly, barely licking the blood that drips from you. It will be enough to remove that hateful taste from his tongue.

His hands take your face, holding it like never before. His thumbs wipe away your tears and massage your cheekbones as he contemplates you. The blood is now on you too.

He looks into your glassy eyes and something unknown stirs inside him.

He is losing you. It's the only thing he can think of. You seem so distant now.

How he can stop you, unarmed as he is. Not even the idea of consuming your body to hold you within him brings relief, and he doesn't know why you upset his functioning.

But Uta is bizarre, there is no situation in which he follows a rule of his.

You are so different from Renji to him, your delicacy makes you complicated and elusive. Your delicacy prevents him from breaking you.

He can't afford to lose you too, he understood it when his chest tightened on smelling your blood. You and Renji are the only things that still make him walk in this world, which still allow him to experience lively emotions. It's not the RC cells that risk driving him crazy, it's you.

“I love you.”

His whisper is so sweet you might think he's about to cry.

It seems strange to say, those are not words that are well suited to a language like his, especially in a world where secrets must be kept between the ribs. But that's the only thing worth letting you know right now. A ghoul love, a clown love, but it's love.

And he almost gasps when he sees your eyes light up with life again, as you look at him as if you were seeing him for the first time.

He doesn't expect to find your arms around him, nor to meet your lips.

You kiss him like it's not okay to do, like he hasn't just eaten someone. You don't seem to mind the blood smearing your face, the metallic taste on his tongue. You seem to ask him to swallow you, but there is no room for you.

The lovers: two crazy people kissing among the remains of a corpse.

It's a good stage for you two.

“He wanted to put you in his place…” He whispers as he holds you like he never held you.

“You wished too?”

Don't you already have your answer?

Your eyes travel from him to over his shoulder, but his hand covers them. He stares at the grimy tattoos on his knuckles for a split second, wondering how they got there.

It's to protect you, perhaps, or to protect him who is wrong and rotten even among monsters.

“Forget it.” He tells you.

You shake your head. He's covered you so much in ghoul blood that at first glance you wouldn't be able to tell who the perpetrator is between you two, but all those red marks on you are testament to his touch.

“I don’t want to do it. I don't want to lose anything about you” You tell him, and there's an adoration in your voice that he always pretended not to hear.

“No?”

“No. Will you take me home?”

He gives you a quick nod, and just watches you as you climb onto his back. Your grip around his neck is reassuring.

“You'll make it?” You ask, as if he's never brought you like this. He scoffs at you as he settles your legs on his hips.

He's so grateful to feel your weight on his back and not in his stomach.

“I feel heavy actually, you say it's your fault?”

You huff, and your heel taps playfully on his thigh. He pinches you lightly, affectionately.

You are alive, he wants you to be alive. There is no one in the world who could look at his melancholy and smile as you do, marveling at a monstrous beauty.

What criminals you and he are, walking off into the night, away from the eyes of the world, leaving behind the trail of sinful blood.

#tokyo ghoul #uta tokyo ghoul #uta x reader #uta x you #tokyo ghoul uta #uta x human reader #human reader #reader insert #cw gore #cw: gore #dead dove do not eat

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stellamancer · 11 months

Text

cher(ease) (satoru gojo x reader)

notes: i want to preface this by saying: yes, i know i posted a fic yesterday too. no, i am not actually that prolific. this was written for the willow house Meet Fruit collab. actually, i wrote it right after @willowser suggested it, but i waited to post it because I was actually a little unhappy with it when I was done writing it initially and i figured some time away from it might help. it did. a little. i think. now i’m not sure any more..

contains: gender neutral reader, typical satoru gojo antics, some small manner of sexual tension

wc: 1.4k

You love cherries.

They are, without a doubt, your favorite fruit; tart, sweet and easy to eat with their stems serving as a cute little handle. It does suck having to deal with eating around the pits, but your beloved cherries are worth the inconvenience. It’s truly, truly a shame that they’re only really available in the summer, but that just means you need to eat your fill when they’re in season.

Which is why, when you stumble across a display of them at the market, rows of cartons filled to the brim with bright, plump, juicy red cherries, you end up buying a carton or three without a second thought.

In retrospect, it might have been better to show some restraint. Maybe you had hungry eyes, or were just a touch too excited, or maybe it was even the fact that you’d spent an unspeakable amount of money on just cherries. Regardless, in order to attempt to absolve yourself of some of the buyer’s regret that’s clearly haunting you after splurging on fruit you benevolently decide to share them with the students and your fellow staff members at Jujutsu High.

Or at least, that had been your intent.

“Oh hey,” Satoru Gojo greets you casually as you walk into the staff room, his feet propped up on the table so he can lean his chair back as far as possible. In one of his hands is a cherry, one of your cherries, hanging delicately from its stem. “What’s up?”

“What are you doing?” you ask him reflexively, ignoring his question outright as a surge of annoyance courses through your veins. There’s a part of you that feels weird about suddenly feeling possessive over the cherries. You brought them to share with everyone and everyone includes Gojo. It shouldn’t be a big deal that he's gone ahead and helped himself to some without asking, and yet you still find yourself feeling agitated.

"I was hungry," he replies nonchalantly, popping the cherry in his mouth.

"And you thought it would be okay to snack on my cherries?"

Gojo shifts forward in his chair and offers you an easy-going smile that only makes you scowl more. “There were so many in the fridge I’d thought you’d brought them to share.”

Your instinct is to argue, to be obtusely contrarian with him, but the fact of the matter is that he’s right, so you keep your mouth shut. Instead, you sit yourself down and stare at the half full carton of cherries on the table.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Gojo wiggling around, not-so-subtly vying for your attention like an overly excitable child. You ignore him and instead choose to think of the rising cost of produce. It was truly an ungodly amount you spent on those cherries and you know for sure that a year ago the same amount of them would have cost marginally less. When you thought about sharing them with the students, the blow to your wallet seemed bearable, their smiles worth the cost and more. But rather than your students' darling faces all you can see is the image of Gojo’s face, his cheeks stuffed with cherries like he’s a squirrel feasting on nuts. It’s annoying. Maybe you can get him to pony up and pay you back for a portion of what he’s eaten. Surely the heir to the Gojo clan can pay for some of the cherries he’s gobbled up.

“Hey…” He’s whining loudly now, any attempts at being subtle abandoned. You consider ignoring him more, but think better of it and look in his direction. Unsurprisingly, he’s pouting, his perfectly moisturized lips puckering out, and you’re glad that his blindfold detracts from what is otherwise a disgustingly handsome face. “Why the long face?”

He’s mocking you. He’s totally mocking you. Not that you’d expect anything different from him. Rather than grace him with an actual answer, you shoot him a pointed look. There’s no goddamn way that he doesn’t know. But still, Gojo plays his favorite role and tilts his head innocently. When you don’t say anything more he exclaims, “Oh! I know! You must be hungry.”

Again, he’s not wrong, but this time he’s not exactly right either.

He grabs another cherry, this time holding it up in your direction. He grins as he propels it toward your mouth. “Here. Say ‘ah~’”

“Gojo, you are not feeding me.”

He ignores you, insistently pressing the cherry to your lips as he speaks, his voice an octave lower, "They taste really good, you know."

The sexy drop of his voice is nothing short of deliberate— a tried and true tactic of his meant to get under your skin. You glare at him, your agitation clear as day. He is, as expected, completely unfettered, the cherry still flush against your lips.

Your options at this point are to: wait until he gets bored and drops the cherry, possibly onto the floor— wasting it or shamefully accept it and endure him gloating about it for the rest of the day. As much as you’d love to waste Gojo’s time and sit at the table in a silent stalemate, you have other things to do. Important things.

So you open your mouth wide, wider than necessary, and use your teeth to rip the cherry from Gojo’s grasp in the most unattractive way possible.

“Yay!” he cheers, choosing to focus on seeing just what he wants to see instead acknowledging that you obviously don’t want his offering. You consider, for one wild second, spitting it back in his face. However, you don’t and just drop the cherry into your open palm. Now what? Do you eat the cherry or just toss it? Frankly, it feels like a lose-lose situation either way, so you might as well go with the option that gives Gojo less satisfaction: you toss it into the trash can.

“Aw…” His lips jut out to form an excessive pout.

“I already told you: you are not feeding me.”

“You’re no fun."

“I’m plenty of fun,” you dead pan at him, scowling. “I’m just not your plaything.”

“Meaning you won’t feed me either?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Not even if I say please?”

“Nope.”

“Hmph.” He’s being overly dramatic and you both know it. “Guess I will enjoy the cherries all on my own, then.”

His voice drops again. The second time makes your body feel a little bit weird, but you remain largely immune to his antics, electing to grab another cherry to eat over paying him any mind.

But Gojo reaches for the cherries right when you do, obviously and intentionally going for the same one you are, and your fingers brush against one another. You scowl and rather than play some weird version of finger footsie, you go for a different cherry.

Annoyed, you shoot him another glare, or at least, you intend to, but he’s pulled his dumb blindfold down and that’s a tell-tale sign that he’s up to no good. You can already feel your blood pressure rising. Dealing with him like this is even more of a pain than usual.

He holds your gaze, his eyes clear as the summer sky, glimmering, as he presses the cherry to his mouth every so gently, as if he’s kissing it. You watch, almost entranced, your mouth suddenly dry. Gojo rolls it over his lips, parting them ever so slightly to press the damn fruit further in, his tongue darting out and—

You force yourself to look away, rolling your eyes as you do. “What the hell are you doing? You look stupid.”

Gojo merely hums, chewing on the cherry. You hope he bites into the pit and dies of cyanide poisoning.

He tosses a few more cherries into his mouth before he speaks, another seductive drawl, and though you would never admit it, you think your immunity grows weaker every time he uses that damn tone of voice. “Hey.”

“What,” you deadpan, glancing at him.

Gojo grins at you and his lips part just slightly, calling your attention to them again. He reaches up and slowly pulls a cherry stem from his mouth. It’s looped into a little knot and the sight of it throws you back to your middle school days— your classmates giggling quietly to themselves over the implications of things like tongue tied cherry stems and candies unwrapped using one’s tongue alone.

“So,” he starts, his stupid blue eyes shining with shameless amusement, “have you heard what they say about people who can do this?”

He grins at you, far too pleased with himself for his own damn good. You know the answer he’s looking for. And he should know that hell will freeze over before you give it to him.

“Yeah. They call them idiots for putting the damn cherry stem in their mouths.”

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #i actually do not eat a lot of cherries #i thought i was allergic for the longest time #actually yellow nectarines are my summer fruit of choice #i had one the other day and it was just so juicy and sweet #oh the title #it's obviously a pun but i don't know if the fic really implies enough that the 'ease' part refers to how 'easily' gojo did the thing #but someone like him could easily tie a knot from a cherry stem or unwrap a starburst #he's a freak #i hate him go to hell gojo #infinite loop!verse

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 2 years

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𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: Throat Fucking w/ Sam Winchester

a/n: i enjoyed writing this more than i care to admit. i'm sorry that i'm like- four days behind, i'll catch up! and I'm back in my supernatural phase so expect for fics of them!

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

It was as though Sam was the embodiment of the word Big, despite his status of being Dean's pain in the ass little brother. He was big in almost every sense: broad shoulders, tall, large hands, muscular arms, and if you were to be crude— a big dick.

Before you were dating, you would be forced to keep your eyes to yourself as to not risk staring for too long, either that be when you can see the imprint in his pants, or when he'd wake up in just a shirt and boxer shorts, walking into the kitchen bright and early as you made an attempt to not choke on your breakfast Dean has oh so graciously made for you.

But now those days were over, he was yours, and you could finally gawk, and grab, all you wanted. Which was exactly what you were doing right now.

Sam had you pressed up against the door of his bedroom, large hands cupping your face as his mouth devoured yours, your hands were selfishly exploring every part of him, trailing from his hard chest, down to his taunt stomach, and finally onto his hard cock. You gave it a teasing squeeze, pulling a shocked groan from the back of the older man's throat.

“Fuck.” He sighs against your lips. “I'm so glad I'm finally able to touch you.” You muttered, shoving him back gently. He allows you to guide him backwards until his calves hit the edge of the bed— seeing as though he's so monstrously tall.

“Sit,” You whispered sensually, “I wanna taste you.” He didn't hesitate, plopping down on the edge as you got onto your knees. “I've dreamed about this, you know.” You said as you leaned up to unbutton his shirt, the material now loosely settling on his thick shoulders. His hairy torso was exposed to your hungry eyes, your greedy hands running themselves through the hair before tracing the patch of it down to his crotch.

“Really?” He asked airly, stomach sucked in at the light touch of your fingertips. “Yep,” You said as you unbuttoned his jeans, sliding down the zipper of his fly, “Since day one, since I could look but couldn't touch.” Motioning for him to lift up his hips, you continued to talk. “It was so hard to not stare, not to gobble you up with my eyes every single time you opened that mouth of yours.” Tugging down his jeans, you threw them behind you thoughtlessly, eyes now trained on the prominent bugle in his underwear.

“Now you're finally mine.” You breathed, practically ripping off the too-tight garment. As your hand gripped the heated skin of his cock, you placed a teasing kiss to the tip, his pre-cum smearing on your lips enticingly. You didn't give him a chance to respond as you took him down your throat, the man choking on a moan.

“_______!” He nearly shouted, his head falling back. You pulled off of him, “Fuck my throat, baby, show me how lucky I am to have you.” His eyes desperately searched yours for any hesitancy but found nothing but pure lust and need. “Okay, yeah, alright. Just— just let me know if I'm hurting you.” You sent him a smirk. “You know you could never hurt me, love.” You leaned up on your knees once again, your lips that were beginning to swell brushing up against the shell of his ear.

“And besides, I never minded a little pain.” You placed a seductive kiss on the sensitive spot below his ear. “I like when it bruises.” You added before coming back down. You made sure to gauge his reaction, his eyes now lit aflame with the same amount passion as you.

He guided you back down to his cock, where you wasted no time in swallowing him once again. He placed a large hand on the back of your head, fingers gently tangling in your hair as his hips began to gently move. Your throat went lax where you allowed him to use you, hooded over eyes watching his every expression as his jaw clenched.

The burn was pleasureable for you as he picked up the pace, your nails digging into his meaty thighs as he used you to his liking. You listened to the sweet sounds escaping from the ethereal man in front of you, causing your thighs to clench and rub together. At the little friction that you were awarded, you moaned, which sent his hips jolting into your mouth as the vibration traveled up his spine.

“I'm gonna—” His chest heaved, the sound of your throat squelching masking his voice. “'Gonna cum, please.” You made sure to stay secured at his shaft, your nose brushed right against his pubic hairs as you allowed him to cum down your throat.

A gutteral groan left him, almost sounding like a growl as he calmed down. You swallowed around him once more, making sure to not waste a single drop as you pulled back, your face flushed and your eyes red with unshed tears.

“See,” You rasped, “I don't mind a little pain.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02

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icycoldninja · 6 months

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Fluffcember #5: Dante x Reader

Picnic

You frowned thoughtfully, biting your lip as you stared down at the array of foodstuffs that lay on the table before you. Today was the weekend; you were packing a picnic for yourself and Dante--the latter was nowhere to be seen at the moment. "That's good," You thought to yourself. "Gives me time to prepare the food without him butting in." As you were painfully aware, Dante was a foodie. A huge foodie. The moment he caught wind of an appetizing dish, he would track the scent like a dog until he found it's source; a quirk that often hindered your attempts to make surprise meals for him. However, today was a completely different day! Dante was "busy" at Devil May Cry, most likely browsing through pinup magazines or chatting away to the others rather than doing work, but who cared? He was out of the house, which gave you time to pack your picnic. The dishes you'd prepared were all of Dante's favorites:Four pepporoni pizzas with NO olives, strawberry sundaes (in a cooler, obviously), and Coca Colas. Nodding satisfactorily to yourself, you carefully plastic-wrapped the pizzas and loaded them into the picnic "basket", which was more of a large plastic container than a basket, double checked the cooler to make sure the lid was on right and the ice packs inside hadn't warmed up yet, and loaded everything into your car. The preparations had been made--all you had to do now was get Dante himself to come with you and the picnic day would offically kick off. You pulled out your phone and dialed Dante's number. "Heya, babe," Came the greeting. "Hi, Dante." You responded, smiling in anticipation. "Can you meet me at the park at lunchtime?" Dante chuckled, "Yeah, sure. I'll see ya there." After a brief goodbye, the both of you hung up and you drove yourself (and the picnic) to the park so you'd have a little more time to set up and get things looking just so.

A while later, at lunchtime, you'd finished setting up all the food on a checkered tablecloth on the ground. You sat there, smiling at how tasty it all looked. "Dante's gonna be so happy," You thought, imagining how his pretty blue eyes would light up with excitement when he saw his favorite food--and so much of it--laid out for his enjoyment. You were so lost in your daydreaming, you didn't notice the white-haired devil slayer creep up behind you and wrap his strong arms around your waist, pulling you in for a hug. "What's a gorgeous thing like you doing outside, all alone, without someone to keep you company?" You laughed, leaned into the hug and smiled up at him. "I have a surprise for you." Dante's brow crinkled in curiosity. "Oh really? Like what?" You shimmied out of his grip and gestured to the spread before you two. "Behold! Pizza!" At the sight of those delicious pizza pies, Dante's demonic instincts clicked in. "Aw yeah, pizza!" He cried, practically leaping over you to get to the food. "You have no idea how hungry I am right now!" He seized a slice of pizza and crammed it into his mouth, still talking in between chewing. "You're a lifesaver, babe-" He paused to swallow, then snatched a bottle of Coca Cola from the cooler and guzzled it. "A real lifesaver. I love you." You couldn't help but giggle, watching the way your wacky boyfriend gobbled up pizza and soda the way a dog would consume tasty meat. "I love you too, Dante," You chuckled, taking a bite out of some pizza yourself. "I really do." But of course, Dante didn't hear you--he was way too busy scarfing down a big bowl full of strawberry ice cream and LOTS of whipped cream.

#dmc #dmc5 #devil may cry #dante x reader #dante sparda #dante dmc #fluff #Fluffcember #part 5 of 31 #picnic #dante eats a lot #dante loves pizza #some of my headcannons mixed in #Idk if u can see it but there are 2 titles and I have no idea why that's happening so...

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siberat · 4 months

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Dri/ft’s Mukbang Part 7

“Looks like we are on to the last food selections, huh? Part of me is sad to know this mukbang is ending. But another part of me is kind of happy, for I am rather stuffed silly right now! My belly is so noisy, and I will have a long night tending to this aching tummy! *Picks up the next food to be eaten* Speaking of long nights, let’s celebrate by trying this footlong enerdog! *Carefully bites the enerdog*

Oh, this is sinfully delightful! All that melted lithium cheese and the hearty cyberchili give this the right kick! I’m sure this will be very filling! *Optics brighten* Speaking of filling, let’s move on to this ask from another Anon: Are you going to need your plating resized after this? It’s already putting such a strain on your belly, and you are not even finished yet… I can’t imagine how much plumper you may get!”

*Smiles sheepishly* Well, let me tell you…I don’t know how much more I can eat, let alone my frame can withstand! I feel so bloated already…. Like a beach ball that is about to pop! *Pats belly* This upper part, while it has some squish, is quite firm and bulges out a bit. *Takes another bite, then jostles his belly* Not to mention, this is rather heavy. I feel my legs getting that prickling feeling. * Moves his legs* Hopefully, that’ll help with circulation. Not that I wish our conversation to end so quickly, but I really would like to lie down. *Bites lip* I think my aft is falling asleep!

But as far as my plating goes… well, I had to lose some during our feast here. First was the stomach platting, then thigh plating… and well, only the central plating remains…I feel as if I was stripping for you! *blushes* But I will likely have to ask Rat/chet to loosen the major plating when he returns tonight. Some areas are rather tight and are starting to pinch. *Mentions to his hip plating* No, I don’t mean anything perverted by that! Get your minds out of the gutters!

*Finishes hot dog* Hmmmmm…. That was tasty. What shall I move onto next? *Gazes across the table* Oh! I know this cyber-sushi! * Snags the dish, shows camera* These are another of my favorites! You have some raw fish in a petroleum rice bed wrapped in seaweed. *Smacks lips* Simply divine! *Pops one in mouth*

So, onto the next ask. This one comes from another anonymous user, and it reads as follows: Awwww, look at your cute cheeks; they are getting chubby! Just wanna squish them! Who else do you think would look nice and all pudgy? *Blushes* Why thank you ever so much for the compliment! My face does feel so soft and round. And with my helm pressing into my cheeks, it does feel like I am getting a granny-style face squish!

*Chuckles, then gobbles the second sushi* As far as who I would think would look nice all pudgy… Would it be a cheat to say Rat/chet? Because that would be my top choice. I think he just has that bulk of a frame that would really be able to handle the extra pounds. Just imagine how thick his thighs would get, and don’t forget seeing that heavy paunch droop over his hips!

*Shakes helm* But in all seriousness, what I would like the most about my lover packing on some pounds would be that he took time to start enjoying the small things in life. I hate it when he insists on making those disgusting microwave meals. *Snubs nose and sticks out tongue*

If he learned to relax and enjoy the fabulous taste of food, he would be much happier, don’t you think? And if he packs on pounds, so be it. As long as he is happy and enjoying himself, that’s what matters, right?

I’m getting thirsty. I am going to try some of this orange energonade. Apparently, it’s high in oxides and is a very healthy drink. *Takes a gulp* Wow. That is very refreshing! And that orange taste is out of this world! *Takes another sip* You know, orange is one of my favorite flavors. At least right now, that is!

But back to the questions. If I cannot choose Rat/chet, I suppose my next choice would be…. *Face scrunches in thought* It’s still going to be based on the theme of more relaxing and enjoying life as opposed to more of an attraction…but I’d have to say Rodi/mus. While one may not believe it, our dear caption is so strung out with insecurities and worries! Do you know he paces for hours in his habsuit while talking to himself? *Rolls optics* I would love to just sit him down and shut that babbling mouth of his up with some good old-fashioned home cooking!

*Devours another sushi round* I bet he would enjoy some cybersteak and potatoes…or a thick coal burger and fries. And for desserts…he’d probably enjoy a nice, warm apple pie with a scoop or two of energon ice cream on top! He’s another mech that needs to stop and take time to treat himself. And if he chonks up, I bet he wouldn’t pace himself to deactivation. *Licks his lips as his optics dart back and forth* Plus, I don’t think anyone would complain about those hips widening up some, huh?” *Winks, then polishes off the last sushi*

Well, it is time to move on to something sweet. How about these cookies? I freshly baked these today, and of course, some were packed into Rat/chet’s lunch. But these are loaded with chocolates and iolites! *Takes a bite* So soft and gooey! I should have poured myself some enermilk to go with these, but this orange-aid must suffice. *Gulps the cold liquid* Well, that’s an odd mix… cookies and orange. *Chuckles*

So, we have a couple of questions from an anonymous asker. These are somewhat whimsical in nature! The first one reads: Hey Dri/ft! Need help washing the dishes? Oh my, there were tons of dishes to wash! Now, some of these tasty meals were prepped yesterday, and others before I started recording. So, some of the dishes have already been taken care of. And aside from the larger dishes, thankfully, we have a dishwasher in my love’s habit! Just had to quickly rinse them off before piling them in. *Snacks on another bite of cookie* Now, I have some pans soaking and let’s not forget the dishes on the table. I initially thought I’d get to them later… but…*Looks at his rather large body* I somehow don’t think I planned that out the best! I’ll eventually tend to them.

Now, their second question is: Who else do you think would be good eating buddies with you? Hmmm…. This is a good one. And I will not mention Rat/chet because that would be a given. But I imagine my perfect dinner guest would involve someone who could keep a good conversation going. *Takes a sip of the drink and snags another cookie*

Now, I’ll give two since the first one could not count. Wi/ng. *sighs* Wi/ng would be a fantastic eating buddy. Well, once he got over the whole spiel of overindulging. But he really opened my mind up to the joys of good food. In my time spent with him, he always provided me with such exquisite foods I never dreamt of tasting before. *Dreamy look overcomes him* Of course, I didn’t truly appreciate this at the time, and looking back, I deeply regret it. Not only was the food good, but the conversation was deep.

*Nervously smiles* Of course, that wasn’t appreciated either. But how I would love to join Wi/ng in a night of dining and conversing! I wouldn’t take him for granted this time. I would engage in the thought-provoking conversation as we both filled our bellies to the brim! *Face brightens* How lovely would that be? It would be so cozy and homey to share this with Wi/ng! I bet he would give the best belly rubs, wouldn’t you agree?

*Picks up the last cookie and takes a bite* Now, if I had to choose someone in the present time…*Playfully shrugs* This may sound odd and kind of out of nowhere, but Amb/ulon. I have had several talks with him while waiting for Rat/chet to get off his shift, and he can keep a conversation going…once he breaks out of his shell. He is full of in-depth ideas and is happy to discuss them once he feels comfortable with you. *Finishes off the last cookies*

I think Amb/ulon would enjoy the food as well. He looks so troubled, and with his past, I don’t blame him. But I feel a good, scrumptious meal would lift his spirits a bit. He needs to treat himself, you know? Perhaps he will feel much better once he fills himself with a large meal and vents off some of those worries he hangs onto. Plus, food comas tend to put you to sleep. And I have a feeling Amb/ulon needs a good night’s rest. *Face is deep in thought* perhaps I should try to talk to him more. *Chugs the rest of the orange energonade*

But now, I saved the best for last. Look at this cake! * Struggles to reach the baked good across the table* Excuse me…. *Leans across the table* There, gotchya! Wow, things are a bit more challenging with this big ol’ belly! But this cake is huge! I bought it from this lovely bakery we passed by a few days ago. *Grins* It was so hard to not eat a slice! But look at how colorful this is! * Sets the plate on his belly* Now, just need utensils. *Silverware drops to the floor*

Scrap. *Optics widen* Please pardon my language! But there is no way I will be able to get those utensils… *Shrugs and nervously grins* Guess I will have to eat this with my hands… you won’t mind, would you? I am just dying to give this bad boy a taste! *Pulls off a piece and starts eating* This is so sweet and rich tasting! And the sprinkles supply such a pleasant crunch!

Alright, we have a few questions about Rat/chet. The same asker from above asks: Are you hoping Rat/chet brings home more food? Oh my stars, no! Usually, I love it when he brings back some little treat for me, and it’s usually something cakey and sweet. But let me tell you, I am struggling to finish this meal! My stomach feels so heavy and full. My breathing has increased a bit, and my frame is warming up. I desperately need a fan to cool myself off! *Eats more cake* I only want Rat/chet to bring his servos for some good belly rubbings!

The next ask is from Gator-raider, simply asking what Rat/chet thinks. Honestly, I was so scared the first time I pigged out and had an itty-bitty belly. I hid from him for a bit. I feared his reaction! When he did find out, he was upset- but not with the belly. He was upset with me being secretive and such. And I think he was a little hurt that I could believe he’d be so shallow. *Shrugs* I just didn’t want him to be repulsed, you know? But my love didn’t care as long as I was happy. And healthy… his doctorly talks come up once in a while. But he means well.

But I have noticed he brings me more treats, and he has been much cuddlier at nights. *Grins* Well, this may be slightly inappropriate, but his servo’s definitely roam over my frame much more, taking their time to pinch and grope at the plush mesh. Now, I’m not one to kiss and tell, so I will have to end that topic right there. *Winks, then bashfully grins*

*Beeping is heard*

Oh, someone’s pinging me. *Grabs data pad and smiles* Speak of the devil, Rat/chet’s calling. Excuse me for a sec. *Answers device*

Dri/ft: Hey, I’m still recording here, Rat/ch…You’ll be in the video…”

Rat/chet: Still? How much food did you make?

Dri/ft: Um…. Well, a lot…

Rat/chet: I imagine so. Is there any leftover food for me?

Dri/ft: …. Ah…. um….

Rat/chet: You know, it took a lot of restraint on my part to not have a slice of that cherry pie…

Dri/ft: …. well…. I…ah…

Rat/chet: I’ll take that as a no.

Dri/ft: Baby, I’m very sorry… just got carried away with such good conversation!

Rat/chet: *nods and smiles* Do you have a mouth full of food right now, or are your cheeks just that chubby?

Dri/ft: *Blushing and smiling* They are just that chubby.

Rat/chet: Dare I ask what the rest of ya look like?

Dri/ft: *bites lip but pans the data pad over his frame*

Rat/chet: Pr-Jeez, kid. What did you do, eat the couch?

Dri/ft: *Laughs* No, the couch is still here.

Rat/chet: Is it in one piece?

Dri/ft: Yes, it still stands. You are such a tease. *Wags a finger*

Rat/chet: *Smiles and lovingly chuckles* Alright, I will return shortly. I just have to head back to Med Bay really quickly. Forgot something.

Dri/ft: What ya leave behind, your positive attitude? *Sticks out his tongue*

Rat/chet: I Have a feeling you will need something for that belly ache you're gonna be crying about all night.

Dri/ft: Well, that’s what your hands are for, silly!

Rat/chet: … Y…. You’re on camera being recorded… I’ll be home soon.

Dri/ft: Alright, baby, I love you.

Rat/chet: Yeah, yeah, yeah… luv ya too.

*Hangs up and sets data pad down* Now I feel a little guilty… I should have saved him a slice of that pie! It’s his favorite! But it just tasted too good to stop! Just like this cake… *Eats another handful of what little remains* But I am so full! *Huffs as his belly loudly grumbles* You think I can polish this off? Just looking at the last handful makes my whole frame ache! *Scoops the last bit up* I hope I don’t explode! *Opens mouth wide and shoves it in* Hmmmm…. so tasty! *belches* Oh, do excuse me!

*Sets empty dish on the table, then pats his belly* Look how messy I am! I should have brought some napkins. Well, perhaps towels. *Laughs* But all the food is gone-look at all those empty plates! Wow, that was a huge meal. And some good conversations. I do hope you all thoroughly enjoyed yourselves. I know I sure did! *Licks icing off a finger* We’ll have to do this again sometime, yeah?

Time sure does fly with a good meal and talks! But as usual, all good things must come to an end. Thank you for tuning in, my loyal fans! I sure hope we can gather for another night of insightful discussion and good food soon! Be safe, everyone, and have a great night!

*Smiles and waves before the camera shuts off*

#chubformers #siberatart #mukbang #weight gain game #chubby belly #weightgain

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hannahssimblr · 2 months

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Chapter Twenty-Eight (Part 2)

Later on in the evening, when the shadows have lengthened and the firepit is ablaze with crackling logs, someone approaches me through the crowd. Tall and handsome with black hair and eyes such a shocking, icy blue, like a husky. It’s Will O’Connor, Shane’s best friend from school. I fancied this boy relentlessly for three whole years.

“Evie Kilbride?” He says to me, as though he’s not completely sure, and I don’t blame him. I’m sure to him I was always Kelly’s weird, lanky friend with a mouth full of braces. I was also too shy to ever actually speak to him, so I’m surprised he ever learned my name at all.

“Yeah.” I say.

“Ah, sorry, I wasn’t sure it was you. You look different to how you did at school.”

“In a good or bad way?” I say without thinking, and he smiles, dimples on his cheeks that I used to have intrusive thoughts about pressing my finger into.

“I dunno.” He says. “How are you getting on? You’re at college, are you?”

I tell him about NCAD, and my internship, murals and illustration while he nods along with genuine interest. “That makes sense,” He says. “I remember how you were good at art.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah you were always drawing up in the stands during our football games.”

“Oh God.” I say, “That’s so embarrassing, I can’t believe you noticed me doing that.”

He laughs. “Ah, well, Kelly told us what you were up to. She said you hated watching us playing so you’d bring something to draw with instead.”

I want to protest and say I didn’t hate it. In fact, I always liked when Will was on the pitch. He was something majestic to behold, and sometimes if we were lucky he’d take his jersey off and whip it around over his head in celebration of scoring a point, but I can’t lie and say that I ever wanted to actually watch the games instead of the boys. I’m more embarrassed that Kelly talked about me to him than by the fact that he knew that football bored me.

He goes on to tell me that he doesn’t really play sports anymore, he just got a job at the local boys school. He’ll be a geography teacher. It seems a startlingly sensible choice for the same boy who threw a science lab skeleton dressed in his uniform off the roof of the P.E hall, but I suppose none of us stay sixteen and reckless forever.

“How’s Kelly getting on with the nursing degree?” He wants to know. “Is she doing placement this year or what?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Is she coming tonight, or?”

“I don’t know either. I suppose she’s probably working, maybe she’ll be by a bit later.” I pause. “Like, she and I aren’t close anymore.”

Will seems surprised. “Oh really? But ye were always together, joined at the hip, like. You’d never see one without the other.”

“Yeah, I know, but it didn’t work out in the end.” I chew my lip, resisting the urge to say something in defence of myself so that he knows that she’s the one who ruined it, not me when actually it doesn’t matter at all anymore. None of those things that seemed monumental as teenagers seem to matter one iota. Will plunges his hands in his pockets and rocks back and forth on his heels in the short silence that follows. I suspect I have made it awkward for him somehow, and begin preparing my escape before he says: “You know, she actually told me once that you fancied me.”

I explode with panic as though a nuclear disaster alarm has gone off. “What?”

“Yeah, like…” He laughs self-consciously. “I think it was when I was in fifth year or something. She said that you’d had your eye on me for ages and you were too shy to say anything.”

“Oh Jesus, I’m sorry she said that. That’s really awkward, I’m sure you were really freaked out by it.”

“No, I thought it was cute, to be honest.”

Why he is bringing this up? It’s not often now that I truly wish to be gobbled up by the earth, but this has made me feel so humiliated that my arms curl around myself as though they can protect me from my own horrible feelings. “Ha. Well, you know, I was really young and silly, I hope I didn’t embarrass you by it or like, that nobody else found out and took the piss out of you for it.”

He was going out with this girl from the same athletics club as me for ages, and she used to always tell the same story to everyone about how she’d gone shopping at Abercrombie & Fitch and they’d begged her to work there because she was so good looking. If she’d heard about my feelings she would have ripped me to shreds.

“No, nobody found out.” He says. “I actually do think that you’re very cute. Still, I mean.” The corners of his mouth curve up into a shy smile, and the moment is so alien to me that it takes me several moments to realise that he’s not making fun of me. Will O’Connor is flirting with me. “Oh, thank you.” I manage.

“You’re not going out with anyone at the moment, are you?”

His phrasing bothers me a bit, as if he’s implying I couldn’t possibly have a boyfriend or something, but still I laugh out loud at the absurdity of the whole situation. After all this time. He used to be everything I wanted but now, the things about him that used to make my stomach flip and my legs weak leave me feeling nothing at all. He would have been embarrassed to bump shoulders with me even accidentally back then, and now look at him. I never thought I’d see him vulnerable. “I am.” I say. “I have a boyfriend, sorry.” I glance over his shoulder to Jude, who’s conversing with Shane about something by the firepit. Will follows my eyes and glances over his shoulder. “Oh, him?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugs. “Lucky guy, I suppose.” He gently clinks his bottle against my prosecco glass and nods. “Well, have a good night, Evie. Was nice to run into you again.”

I join Jude and Shane by the fire straight after, and practically dive into my boyfriend, holding on to him and kissing his cheek five times in quick succession while he chuckles and wraps his arms around me. “Are you alright?”

“Yes” I say. “I’m just obsessed with you, I love you so much.”

“Little weirdo.” He grabs me by my cheeks and kisses the top of my head.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky girl part 3

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cheesecakethots · 2 years

Text

the boogeyman - yandere johan (monster) x fem!reader

implied sa, kidnapping, yandere behaviour, others tws in tags.

potentially a part 2 to this, but can also be read as a standalone

writing for johan is hard so it may seem ooc. not 100% sure i like how this turned out but i want to push something out rn lol

kinda based around @stupid-sloot-headcanons own johan thots because i love how they write for him

even as a child you never believed the silly stories your friends and family had told you about monsters lurking in the shadows of bedrooms in the dead of night.

you giggled and snorted at the idea of a boogeyman of all things, a creature that waited to gobble sweet little girls like you up so that you would never be seen again.

it had seemed so unbelievable to you at the time, the mere thought of something stalking and taking you from your small and quaint town. everything about your life felt safe and protected as a child. now, you can’t help but frown at the memories of your complete naivety.

for you have come to learn that monsters, much worse than those that hide under beds and in closets, do exist.

and sometimes, monsters can look as pretty as angels, or at least in johan’s case, they do.

he’s woken you up again. it’s not like it’s really his fault, as your body, even in an unconscious state, seems to sense his gaze on you.

no feeling can compare to the one you have when he so much as looks at you. fear? anger? hate? you don’t know anymore, and you don’t even want to think about the emotions in him when he stares at you with such a blank face, and yet sometimes with such startling expressive eyes.

he seems to do it a lot, considering now there’s nowhere for you to run.

you shiver under the porcelain white duvet without realising it, only to hear him shift from beside you.

your bottom lip trembles when unnervingly cold fingers brush against your cheek.

“ah. did i wake you, my love?”

his voice is light, soft, even. it does nothing to soothe you.

some part of you wishes he would just yell at you, fucking hit you, or do anything than treat you with his horrifying attempts at kindness that serve more to make your bones rattle and knees shake than actually calm your nerves.

at least if he broke his demeanour you would be able to tell what he wants from you, if there’s anything more he can take from you.

the only hints you have are in the occasional bursts of emotion in his eyes. nothing you see in them calms you.

you open your own eyes, and they quickly widen at seeing him leaning over you, a soft smile on his lips.

“shh, don’t cry,” he airily voices, the thumb from the hand on your cheek slowly moving to wipe away tears you hadn’t even felt drop.

you almost flinch, as despite how clean and proper he appears to any outside viewer, you know the truth.

you know that the same hand against your face has aided in the deaths of an unknown number of people. you know that the same voice whispering to you with such gentleness has convinced others to do terrible, terrible things to both themselves and others.

“there’s no need to be afraid. i would never hurt you.”

you know he’s being honest. despite how many tantrums you threw, how many times you tried to escape from the seemingly desolate house he keeps you in, he’s never raised his voice to scare you, or his hand to hit you.

you still can’t calm the shivers to your body, shivers you and he both know are not due to the cool night breeze.

his hands move to your waist, gently grasping at the flesh that’s covered by the silky nightgown he gave you to wear.

slowly, as though approaching a startled deer, he raises his head to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

“i love you very dearly,” he whispers, his own forehead moving to press into your own so he can continue keeping his watchful gaze on you, this time precisely on your terrified eyes.

you do not know why. he never explained whatever fondness he has for you, never took the time to tell you on the night he stole you like a child in the stories of the boogeyman you were once told about, why he didn’t instead just place a bullet in your brain.

eyes clenching shut and head rolling to the side, you raise a pair of shaky hands to press at his chest, not even bothering to push.

he lets out an amused breath of air, probably the closest thing you’ll hear to a genuinely happy laugh.

“you are everything to me. my other half; my better half. the only thing left to keep me whole.”

a hand strays from your waist and slowly crawls beneath the bottom of your nightgown. the cold fingers that brush past your thighs and higher make you simultaneously shiver and freeze.

“allow me to indulge, allow us to become one.”

as his touches grow less innocent and more akin to some sort of gentle depravity, you think again on your childhood self.

you were right; boogeymen and evil in the shadows don’t exist. nothing is going to hide under your bed or in your closet, waiting to grab you and drag you somewhere no one will ever find.

some part of you wishes it had been a boogeyman to gobble you whole. crunch, crunch, crunch.

as now, you’re left with something worse than any inhuman shape lurking within the shadows. you’re left with something that doesn’t need to hide when watching you. something that doesn’t have to stay away as soon as the sun rises. something that is going to keep you alive, no matter if you no longer wish to be.

you’re left with a monster, and that of one you truly cannot escape from.

#tw yandere #tw.yandere #yandere #yanderecore #yandere monster #yandere johan #yandere johan liebert #yandere monster 2004 #.johan #.monster #tw kidnapping #implied sa #implied assault

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