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#he must be on a different street so they just see it when they drive by since we're on the corner
alsaurus-loves-dean · 1 month
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space-coupe · 2 years
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#okAy so i'm not going to finish writing it i lack the skill n talent but i Must get this out there it's haunting me#i know rpf freaks some ppl out in which case why are u following me i literally made this blog bc i wrote so much goddamn rpf#but anyways. fair warning in advance. n i will delete this once i stop being insane blah blah blah#but god. just obsessed with piarlesteban ideas rn. with charles watching all the alpine stuff we're seeing trickling out now and like#the bittersweet feeling that comes with watching someone you love succeed at the cost of them potentially moving on without you#at least when pierre and esteban weren't talking it wasn't a constant reminder that Technically he's not pierre's oldest friend on the grid#that while he Technically thinks he knows pierre best. he wasnt one of those kids from normandy#is it jealousy? is it fear? is it something else?#after all if he called pierre 'pierrot' on main and started posting tiktoks with how important their friendship is#it would be smth f1 reposts and takes everywhere and makes a situation out of. but esteban can do it naturally.#him not wanting pierre and esteban to fall out again because truly he Does love them both albeit in very different ways because they *did*#all grow up together. but then if they do. he doesn't have to worry about if pierre starts to hesitate more when he's asked who he's#closest to. who his best friend is. doesn't have to worry#plus. plus plus. add in the context of it mirroring /pierre/ feeling like he got left behind while charles#blazed trails in his top team and pierre went back to his junior team who try as they might could never give him that wdc#sorry ive just been listening to smile like you mean it on repeat. and like#and someone is playing a game in the house i grew up in. and someone will drive her around on the same streets that i did#i CAN and i WILL make this about them#esp because im already deep in copium#YO the fact i can edit tags now. fucking SEXY!
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kasagia · 3 months
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Game of survival
Pairing: young president! Coriolanus Snow x fem!rebel! reader Summary: The worst enemy is the person who betrayed you when you trusted them with all your heart. The person you told all your secrets to, the person you loved more than your life—the best friend who suddenly turned on you and stabbed you in the back and right through your heart, using your weaknesses they learned with the time they spent with you. You and Coriolanus have been each other's worst enemies since that fateful day at the lake in District 12... Inspired by: Game of survival - Ruelle Warning: 18+; a little smut; Coriolanus chases you around his presidential palace; I had a completely different idea for it, but it turned out that way...; Enjoy!; Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist
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You hold your breath as you sit on the roof of a building.
Through Sniper Rifle, you watch carefully as the president of Panem gets out of his car. You only see the outline of his bleached blonde hair before he disappears into his presidential palace. The car drives away, and peacekeepers start circulating around the building again. An impregnable fortress. Seemingly.
"I hope you have a plan." Joseph mumbles next to you, moving into position next to you. "We must act quickly tonight. Get in and out before the peacekeepers find out what are we going to do."
"First, you have to shoot him. I won't leave there without seeing the life drain from his eyes." You reply, preparing to leave the roof.
"Do not worry about it. Everyone would like to be in my place. I don't miss the target." He replies confidently, with an arrogance in his voice that you don't like. But you won't lecture him. The other hunter never liked being told how to do his job. You caught animals; he caught real people. He had more experience in this area than you. But could Coriolanus still be considered human?
"That's not what I'm thinking about. It's a game of survival. Him or us. You have to play it smart. Don't underestimate him just because he's from the Capitol, Jospeh."
"I bet he didn't even hold a gun in those well-groomed hands of his." You shudder. The screams of Sejanus and Lucy Gray echo in your head. Coriolanus' screams. The sounds made by mockingjays...
"I doubt it." You answer briefly and go out to the staircase.
You pass through several of its inhabitants before reaching the basement. Before you open one of the rooms, you look around to make sure you are alone in the residential basements. You quickly open and close the door behind you. You move the painting, some kind of marriage portrait of a general and his wife, and go through a hidden passage. It was a tunnel dug under the building, which led to a small room where the most important members of the rebellion slept. The rest were to arrive during the day. For a special evening event.
"You need to be more careful." Meg tells you as you return to base. "The peacekeepers seem to be breeding in their barracks. I saw twice as many of them on the streets as yesterday. And guess what?"
She slaps her hand flat on the table. You walk up and lean down, seeing the wanted poster for you. Alive, not dead. Whoever turned you in would get a ridiculous amount of money.
"I have a nicer jaw shape." You comment and pick up the wanted poster. You throw it in the air and aim the dagger at it, nailing it to the earthy wall of your shelter.
"I don't know what you did to Snow, but even his advisor, who ran his presidential campaign and defected to join us, isn't so... passionately wanted by him and his men as you are." She says, wincing when she can't get the dagger out of the wall. You roll your eyes and walk over to her, pulling out the dagger easily and handing it to her with a mocking smile.
"Old disagreements and a minor difference of opinion." You tell her, walking over to the map of the Capitol and the plan of the presidential palace. "I doubt he even remembers why he's so pissed at me. That was ages ago. 10 years. Maybe more. But as you can see, bastards like him hold grudges for a long time."
"People gossip, you know. That you are not suitable for this job. That you had some feelings for him that would make you hesitate to pull the trigger when necessary." She says, walking towards you. She places her hand on your back, making you look at her. "If you don't want to, don't say it. But I need to be completely sure that you won't betray us."
"I'm not the one who is supposed to kill him. We have Jospeh to do that. But believe me, if necessary, my hand won't shake. I am a hunter. My job is to kill. And an animal like him is well within my hunting range. He... he has done too much for me to feel sorry for him. And believe me, if anyone has a reason to kill him, it's me. I have something to take revenge for. So if you don't trust me, then trust my rage. After all, there is nothing like a mad woman, is there?" You ask, sending her a meaningful smirk.
And even though you pretend to be so confident in front of her and any other rebels, deep down, you know that it's not all that simple. Things between you and Coriolanus... were complicated. And anyone else in your situation would hate him with all their hearts, but you couldn't just stop loving him. Maybe you were actually weak, but if you learned anything from Coroilanus Snow, it was how to pretend to be stronger than others. Even when you were in a shitty situation.
"Good. Prepare yourself. We start at dusk. For the Districts."
"And for all the fallen. Let the odds be forever dead." You finish.
Meg nods and leaves you alone with the maps and plans. Your task was simple. Sneak through the guests at a masquerade party, get into his office, and plant a bomb. Just in case. Only if Joseph hadn't managed to kill him. You were also supposed to set a few other traps for President Snow. And since you were the best hunter in Panem, there was no one better for that job.
You've been preparing for this for months. You have figured out all the escape routes, emergency exits, peackeeper patrols, and their plans to secure the reception at the presidential palace.
Tonight, everything will be resolved, your past will be finally a closed past, whether you want it or not.
Either he or you will die tonight. And if you were sure about something, you were sure that you wouldn't pass away so easily.
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You never expected that Coriolanus Snow would become your worst enemy.
Or at least that's what you think as you drive through the Capitol. You sit in the backseat, staring at the streets and people passing by, as your chauffeur and fellow rebel take you to your destination.
Ever since Lucy Gray returned from the Hunger Games, she has been praising her mentor. She said that the boy she met gave her invaluable support and help, and that if it weren't for him, she wouldn't have survived on her own in the arena.
Her stories make you imagine him as an angel. Blond curls, sky blue eyes, helping a poor girl from the district, a man with a good heart—everything fit. And you were confirmed in that belief when you saw him for the first time and realised how handsome he really was.
How were you supposed to know then that Coriolanus Snow was really an angel, but a fallen one? How could you recognise the devil through the disguise he had created for himself?
You were certainly not the first or the last to fall under his spell, to believe in the façade of a good man, to see him as a hurt boy who needed love and tenderness. At least you wanted to believe you weren't the only one naive enough to ignore all the clues and signs that he wasn't such a saint after all.
It started inconspicuously. Like all disasters. And you, having lived in District 12 for so long, knew very well what bad fate, misfortune, and catastrophe were.
But nothing could have prepared you for the coming of Coriolanus Snow.
He was charming. Oh God, and how much he was. Sejanus didn't pay much attention to his surroundings, but Snow picked up on every little detail, no matter how insignificant it may have been at first sight. Lucy Gray fell into Plinth's arms. And you became infatuated with a devil who seemed to be as observant as you.
"Lucy Gray's friends are my friends." The brunette guy says that and takes a step forward. You shift your cautious gaze to him, but he doesn't seem to notice that you're wary and reaches for your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "Sejanus. Nice to meet you."
"Y/N." You say, removing your hand from his grip. "I used to say that too. And then she took me to feed her snakes. The poisonous ones. The worst 3 minutes of my life."
"3 minutes?" He asks curiously. You notice someone moving behind him—another man—who is whispering something to Lucy.
"She ran away screaming." Your friend giggles and throws her arm on Sejanus' shoulder. You roll your eyes at her as she laughs at you, not hiding the smile that begins to form on your lips.
"That's not true. I didn't scream. I saw a rabbit and went hunting." You mutter, feigning offence, which only intensifies her laughter.
"A hunter who is afraid of snakes?"
Someone's question distracts you from Lucy Gray. Behind her, you notice the man who was whispering something to her earlier. He steps out of her shadow and stands a few steps away from you. You look him up and down, and by the way Lucy is comfortable with the other peacekeeper and his appearance, you assume he must be her mentor. Coriolanus Snow. And damn her, he was really hot.
"I am afraid of what I have to be afraid of, private Snow. Just like a hunter should. You never know when the danger will come that you will turn from a predator to a prey." He watches you carefully, listening to your every word. And by the small smile he can't contain, you know that you've managed to make him curious and defend yourself enough for him not to discredit you.
"It's Coryo when we are among friends." He says this, nodding at you. He does not extend his hand to you like Sejanus did, nor does he attempt any other greeting that requires physical contact. Weird. You wonder if he would be attentive enough to sense your discomfort.
"We should get going. The Covey is probably waiting for us. Will you come tomorrow? I think we have a lot to talk about." The brunette asks them with a smile and stands on your other side, taking your arm.
"Su..."
"We will escort you." Coriolanus interrupts his friend, still looking at you. "We wouldn't want anything to happen to you. There are... quite a lot of people hanging around here tonight." His gaze shifts to Lucy Gray for a moment, and he nods for her to lead.
"He may be a rebel, but he is also chivalrous. Come then, gentlemen." She laughs and places her other hand on the crook of Sejanus' elbow. Coriolanus adjusts and walks on your other side, maintaining an appropriate distance, so he is close but not touching you or brushing his arm against yours.
At one point, the crowd of people won't let you walk four in a row, so Lucy and Sejanus take the lead. You and Coryo follow behind them, a little apart. There's a strange silence between you. You shift your gaze to his, and you see that he is already watching you.
"I think I should thank you for saving her. It's not that easy to keep that tramp out of danger. And believe me, I know what I'm saying; I've known her since we were children."
"Yes, she is very… alive. But that was just my job as her mentor." He says this as you both walk down the dark streets. The moonlight and a few lanterns illuminate it so much that you can walk freely in the dark without tripping over any protruding stones.
"Was it also your duty to become a peacekeeper and come to 12?" Your question clearly surprises him. He didn't expect anyone to connect... the events or have the courage to ask him about it. Lucy Gray didn't do it. But you weren't Lucy Gray. You were better. And he was starting to see it.
"It wasn't... planned." He says this and clears his throat, looking at Lucy Gray and Sejanus laughing together about something. "But I'm not going to stay here long."
"Did you come here for her or for him?" You ask, seeing his jaw clench as he watches them both.
"None. I just had to do it." He responds dryly, clearly not wanting to talk about it further. You didn't know who he was jealous of, but you could recognise that feeling in others' eyes perfectly. And he was definitely jealous. You only wondered about what. About Lucy Gray, Sejanus, or just about what was between them?
"A lonely wolf. I see." You comment and turn your head towards the Hanging Tree.
Coriolanus takes the opportunity to get a better look at you. You don't have an outfit as bold and colourful as Lucy Gray. You were rather quiet and thoughtful. He couldn't' say that he wasn't captivated by the aura that his former tribute had around her, but he somehow found himself feeling better in the silence between the two of you than he ever felt around Lucy Gray and her wild personality.
You had also really beautiful eyes.
"And what about you?" He asks, wanting to get your attention again.
At first, he stayed close to you just to spite Lucy Gray, but after she obviously ignored him, he had no intention of talking to you anymore. But something about you drew him to you. And maybe it was your caution; maybe he wanted to break it and set it as a challenge, a distraction while he was in District 12, or maybe he just wanted attention? He did not know. It irritated him how much he wanted to see your eyes sparkling teasingly in the lamplight again. 
"Me?" You looked up at him, giving him your full attention. He almost smiled. Almost.
"Are you remaining here for her or for someone else? I know there is a need for good hunters in many other and better districts. Why are you stuck here when you could be hunting somewhere else? Have a better place to live?" He asks, unable to understand you.
You obviously didn't feel comfortable in District 12. No one could. And he knew from Lucy Gray's histories and his brief observation of your actions that someone like you, with your skills, could easily get a transfer to a wealthier district. But you didn't. He wanted to know why.
"What if I like it here?" You ask with a shrug. He frowns, looking around. You are passing by mouldy buildings, some houses are made of ood—you say it while they walk down the poorest alley in 12. Coriolanus believes he saw a rat running in front of you, but he doesn't want to think about it.
"Here?" He asks with disbelief and a hint of disgust in his voice, to which you giggle, almost laughing.
And instead of Coriolanus being offended and threatening you (he's a peacekeeper after all; he could make you spend a day in detention, and if you were anyone else, he definitely would do that), but somehow Snow can't do anything but smile, while admiring you.
However, he takes his eyes off you, even though he's tempted to look at you longer. He can't afford to have another weakness. To have another Lucy Gray. Although he doesn't think you'd push him away that easily for Sejanus or anyone else, like she did.
You and he were similar. Both of you were withdrawn, silent, observers, taking into account the threats. You did not play heroes with bravado and did not count on good luck, only on their own minds and skills.
"No, not here. I am not mad yet." You say, snapping him from his thoughts."The forests are beautiful. The fields. Rivers and lakes. The rest of Panem is industrialized. Concrete and factories everywhere. There is... a kind of peace here if you close your eyes to certain things. Maybe you will stay here long enough to find out about it by yourself." And something about you—the warm tone of your voice and the sparkles in your eyes as you talk about your favourite places—makes Coriolanus feel a sudden urge to stay here for a while—just as you suggested. Since he was going to be here for a while anyway, he might as well have some fun... right?
"I could use a guide." He says this before he can even think about it, as he sees Lucy Gray slowing down, obviously getting closer to your house.
He didn't know why he cared so much about seeing you again. You were nothing. Just a district hunter. He would leave the 12, find a way to get back to the Capitol, and forget about everything that brought him here. But damn, that little smile of yours made him feel butterflies in his stomach. He was pathetic. And he hated himself for it.
"I can be one."
"Aren't you afraid that people will see you with the peacekeeper?" You raise your eyebrows, shocked by his words. "I saw you looking around. Don't worry. She specifically directs us to streets that are... less frequented." He reveals his observations to you, and for the first time since you two introduced yourself, he sees that the note of fear and caution has disappeared from your eyes for a moment.
Your curious look causes him to have heart palpitations. That was weird for him. Maybe he was sick? He just hoped he hadn't caught anything from those bar rats.
"You really are perceptive, aren't you?" You ask, and he shivers, feeling your analytical gaze on him.
Coriolanus can't say he doesn't enjoy the thrill of excitement as you both try to solve the secrets the other is hiding. Talking to you was… nice. Most of the peacekeepers were as dumb as nails. Muscle mass and nothing else. And he had grown tired of Sejanus's moralising talk a long time ago. Talking to you would be good for him in some way. He wouldn't go completely crazy here. At least that's how he tried to explain to himself his strange and sudden desire to meet you again. And often. Very often.
"I was told so." He says this as you arrive at the door of your house. Coriolanus looks around carefully and is pleased to see that this is one of the better, quieter alleys. He makes a mental note to take more night shifts here. Just to keep an eye on you.
Before you walk into your house with Lucy Gray, you turn to look at him one last time.
"Well, I hope you won't miss the Capitol too much... Coryo." And when his nickname leaves your lips, he knows that this won't be the last time he sees you.
He watches as the door closes behind the two of you, taking in the last sight of you. He returns with Sejanus to their unit, completely ignoring his chatter about Lucy Gray as he thinks about you. Over time, he will find that he will do this more and more often. Thinking about you.
But neither of you knows how much you will regret this night in the future.
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You walk up the stairs of the presidential palace wearing a beautiful white dress. Your mask fits to the top of your face, revealing only your mouth, chin and part of your jaw. You feel terrible, but you have to somehow blend in with the crowd of rich assholes who are enjoying their president's birthday party while district children tremble at the thought of the upcoming 22nd Hunger Games.
The only thought that comforts you is that he will die before dawn. And that you can have a glass of champagne.
You give your cloak and fake invitation to some peacekeeper the poor avox who are waiting at the entrance to serve everyone gathered. It makes you want to vomit when you think about how the man you let touch yourself became such a monster who decided to sew their mouths shut instead of cutting out their tongues.
Of course, with a red thread.
You go deeper into the room. You try to stay in the crowd, not on the outskirts, so as not to catch anyone's eye and so HE won't be able to see you. It may have been 12 years, but you're not sure if he forgot about you enough to not recognise your figure in the crowd. Maybe you tormented his nightmares as much as he tormented yours. You hoped to. Bastard didn't deserve to sleep soundly like a baby.
You're standing in a group of people, listening and laughing at the stories being told, and you're about to excuse yourself and browse around the big villa a bit and place some of the traps when suddenly you hear a tapping on a glass. You turn around with the rest of the people, making sure you're neither in the front nor the last row.
You freeze as Coriolanus' voice echoes through the room.
You have prepared for this moment many times. You predicted thousands of different scenarios for your first meeting, after... that special, rainy day at the lake when you went your separate ways. And you thought you were ready to bear the sight of him. But as soon as you look up at him, you feel your heart beat nervously. And not in that exciting way when you see your prey and are ready to attack.
As you sing a forced 'Happy Birthday' with other people after his speech, you allow yourself to steal one brief glance at him. He looks different.
More mature. More dangerous. Stronger. Powerful.
The golden mask, the only one of its kind in the room, covering his nose and just a small part of his face, the part around his eyes and eyebrows, only emphasises this more clearly.
And the red colour of his suit, along with all his... dominant attitude that emanates from him, are enough evidence of the red flag he was that you didn't notice when he was a peacekeeper in a blue uniform. His hair is longer and slicked back with gel, emphasising his rough, hard jawline and piercing blue, icy eyes. The man who stood in the middle of the room was dangerous. So much so that you felt nervous, thinking about how the hell you were going to kill him today.
You had a plan, but you knew that in every pursuit of prey, there were risks that could not be predicted. When hunting a bear, you don't face it with all your strength. You are waiting for the moment to attack. And now, looking at Coriolanus Snow in all his glory, you began to have doubts about your plan and the abilities of the other rebels. Maybe you will have to play the first violin this evening and aim a gun at him yourself. You shiver at even the thought of it.
And then his eyes find yours. For a very short while, but enough to make you shiver under his glance.
He blinks at you, then shifts his gaze to something or someone else. You feel a lump building in your throat, the words of the song being forced out of your mouth with a more and more trembling voice. He recognised you. Or not. You did not know. His subsequent actions didn't indicate it, but he had been staring at you for far too long to be sure of anything.
You don't like how quickly you're losing control.
That's why you leave at the first opportunity, hiding in the bathroom upstairs. You wait for the peacekeeper patrol to pass, and when they go to the second floor, you start setting up traps at the different spots of the presidential palace. You decide to forget about the events from a few minutes ago for a moment. Only peace will save you. You know about it. That's why you do everything to forget about his icy irises.
Well, at least until you have to go back to the ballroom again.
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"A little higher." He whispers in your ear behind you, his hand wrapped around yours, as you aim his shotgun at the deer. "Eyes open, breath held, muscles tense."
You shoot and hit the animal. The gun bounces slightly, but Coriolanus holds you close and tight enough that you barely change your position, only trembling slightly as the gun clicks off.
"I prefer arrows, but thanks for showing me how to use it." You say cheekily as you approach the deer you have aimed perfectly at.
He shakes his head at you, slinging the gun over his shoulder. He watches you as you kneel next to the deer, preparing it to be carried to the district.
"You know, my teachings aren't free." He says this as you get up and walk towards the river to wash your hands. He takes the deer's body and obediently follows you.
He had the day off today and decided to use it to spend time with you. Lately, he's been running away from everyone more and more often to walk in the forest with you. You were talking and fooling around. Coriolanus has never felt so... free as with you. He could get used to this. If he hadn't experienced the comforts of the Capitol. He knew you would get used to the capital. Maybe he'd even let you go on little trips and escapades in the woods once he got back there with you as his wife. Of course, only with him. And with peacekeepers guarding you two, he didn't want to end up like his father.
"Isn't it?" You ask with that mischievous smile of yours, washing your hands in the river. "And here I thought you were noble, private Snow."
"Stop it." He growls menacingly as you don't call him by a nickname he loved to hear from your lips. But you can see by the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. A smile spreads across your face as you continue fooling around.
"Only that? You know that I love to tease you too much to just stop..." He cuts you off mid-sentence, leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss.
You freeze for a moment, feeling his lips brush against yours and his hand run through the back of your hair. Even if you wanted to pull away from him, you couldn't because of the way he wrapped his hands around you. You should feel trapped and outraged by his behaviour, by the fact that he didn't ask for your permission or leave you the chance to pull away. But all you could do then was grab him by his dog tag and pull him closer to you.
You moan into his mouth as you find out that kissing Coriolanus Snow is the most pleasurable thing in the world.
You place your hands on either side of his neck as he grabs your waist gently, pressing your bodies as close to each other as possible. His lips caress yours gently at first, testing the waters. When he sees that you're not pulling away from him, he deepens the kiss, completely taking over the control that, surprisingly, you willingly give him. You've never been kissed like this in your life. So desperate, so needy, so possessive. And you know that you will never feel this way with anyone else in your life.
And for the first time, you have the opportunity to feel that moment that has been repeated so often in books—kissing someone until you have no more oxygen left in your lungs. Because before him, no one wanted you enough to give you half the sensations that Coriolanus gave you. And you suspected that he felt the same.
"I had this type of payment in mind." He whispers hoarsely, resting his forehead against yours. His eyes are closed, giving you the opportunity to admire his face up close. And god, he's perfect. In all his ounces, you can't even imagine how ethereal he must have been in the Capitol. (The perfect devil, tempting you until you fall.)
"Oh... um... well... be careful… with such a low payment you may be… taken advantage of by some girls." You manage to gasp, gathering the remnants of your mind that weren't occupied with the thought of him and the heavy breathing he was taking because of you.
"There is only one girl in this terrible, musty place, for whose special attention I can get anything she whishes." He says this, opening his eyes and cupping your cheek tenderly. And if your nature were any different (or if he would use a little more of his charm on you), you would melt under his touch, but you couldn't resist the opportunity he gave you.
"Anything, you say..." You mutter in mock thought with a smirk. And all Corilanus can do is smirk stupidly when he sees the familiar spark of malice in your eyes.
He enjoyed challenges, and he liked it even more when he beat you every time in your 'little fights and teasing'. He liked that you weren't completely submissive and that you could fight and banter with him instead of trembling in fear and trusting him blindly. You were almost his equal. Not that he was searching for one. But of all the girls, he knows you were the closest to his perfection. He just needed to work on your compliance a little bit before he could take you with him to the Capitol. After all, you couldn't tease him in public.
"Don't tease." He warns, humming as well, a smirk blooming on his lips despite his attempts to fight it off. He could afford a little... frivolity in the district. He would act completely differently in the Capitol, but for now, he enjoyed every carefree moment with you he could get. He couldn't remember the last time he had had to worry about the opinion of society.
"Oh, but that's the funniest thing to do now..." You continue with a smirk, leaning in to steal a kiss from him. He accepts it with a smile that quickly fades as you pull away from him and run away, laughing.
"And what is this?!" He shouts, running after you.
"A hunting lesson! I won't kiss you for yours in return, Snow!" You reply with a laugh, speeding up.
You ran away from him for an hour until you got tired of it all and ran into him laughing, deciding that he'd had enough of him chasing you for now. He immediately took you into his arms and kissed you, holding you tightly to his chest so that his rapidly beating heart was palpable to you. You placed small kisses on his snout as he held you tightly in his embrace, panting.
"Promise you'll never run away from me. That you'll never leave me." You raise your eyebrows in shock at his request, but you don't question it. You simply nod and press a kiss of promise to his lips as he pushes you against the nearest tree.
Your kiss becomes more feverish, more urgent as you feel his hardness through his peacekeeper uniform. Just a few weeks ago, you would have despised yourself for being so close to him. But it was your Coryo. That's why you don't interrupt him when he unzips your pants and takes them and your underwear off in one move.
You hold your breath as he kneels in front of you and grabs your hips with an iron grip. He presses a kiss on your thighs, teasing you and leaving little bites and bruises there before graciously shifting his attention to where you really need it. You moan, biting your lip to keep from screaming as he slowly circles your clit with his tongue, teasing you to no end. He pushes your hips against the tree every time you try to push against his tongue from a different angle. This frustrates you even more, especially after the gun slung over his shoulder shifts, causing the barrel of the shotgun to dig into your stomach.
"Coryo..." You moan, scratching his head as you try and futilely try to grab his close-cropped hair. He moans at the feeling, stimulating you even more.
He takes pity on you, putting more effort into his work as his fingers start to hit the spot that made you lost your mind. The bark of the tree digs into your back, but all you feel is Coriolanus; your entire world is limited to the movements of his fingers that bring you unimaginable pleasure that cannot be described in any words. All you can do is moan his name, which he finds flattering enough to make you cum around his fingers. Although he had no plan to let you cum when he started to play with your sweet cunt. You were making him too soft for you...
His tongue teases you as he licks along your knee, up your thigh, to stop a few moments before the place where you really needed him to reach your peak of pleasure. He smirks and suddenly bites into your thigh, causing a scream of his name from your lips to echo through the forest. He grunts, licking and sucking the spot on your thigh that he bit, feeling how he hardened in his pants by simply sucking your skin and fingering you. He loved every single sound you made because of him. If tasting you on his lips wasn't as tempting for him as it was for now, he would just kneel there and watch how you kept chasing your orgasm on his fingers.
"Scream for me, my little hunter." He says this and leans forward. His nose teases your clit before he finally licks you, testing your taste. He moans as his favourite flavour spreads across his taste buds. If he had you in the Capitol, he would never starve, he thinks as he begins to fuck you with his tongue, collecting everything that his skillful fingers caused to flow from your little pussy. For him. Because of him. His.
You grip his arms tightly, his gun somehow twisted so that it was pressed against your leg and stomach, but you don't care as he kneels in front of you and sucks the senses out of you through your cunt. You can only moan loudly and scream his name, digging your nails into his shoulders as you pull him closer to you as he makes you come. He licks up everything he gets for his work, leaving nothing to leak from your thighs onto the forest floor.
Coriolanus feels his hardness pressing against his pants, but chooses to ignore it. He won't take you like some district barbarian in the woods. He will do it well. Maybe even in the Capitol... you would look beautiful, wrapped in the most expensive sheets. And while you catch your breath and try to recover, he wonders how he's going to get his little hunter with him back to the Capitol when Dr. Gaul replies to the message he sent her.
He adjusts the gun hanging on his shoulder and stands up, licking his fingers off of the remains of your sweet juices. Unimaginable pride rises in his chest, as does a feeling of possessiveness when he sees your knees shaking and you barely standing, leaning on the tree behind you. He chuckles, remembering the sight. He will definitely think about it, while jerking off himself when he will be alone at the barracks.
"I will always catch you. No matter how long it takes." He says, taking you in his arms when he sees that you're unable to stand on your own in your post-orgasm haze. Another thing that increases his ego.
You didn't know how much that sweet promise would turn out to be a bloodthirsty threat. So you let him carry you through the forest as you both headed back to 12.
The next day, you were delivered money in exchange for the deer you and Private Snow had hunted together. From his superior, Commander Hoff. Even then, he was using you for his own gain.
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"Are you lost, miss?" You stop in your quick steps. You curse internally when you hear his voice in the hall. You were about to go downstairs and go to the ballroom. But no. Coriolanus Snow always had to screw up your job.
"Mr. President." You say, trying to change your tone of voice as you turn around and see him. "I was just looking for a spare bathroom."
"Ah yes. Women's ones seem to be… very crowded. Have you made it, little bathroom hunter, or do you need help?" He asks, walking over to you. He shouldn't be here. Certainly not that close to you. Meg was supposed to focus his attention on her and flirt with him. You didn't know what the hell he was doing on the first floor instead of in the ballroom celebrating his birthday.
And when he called you a hunter, you tried your hardest not to shiver in fear at the thought of him seeing through you. But if he recognised you, would he act so... calm around you? Peacekeepers would probably have surrounded you long ago if he had...
"I did it, Mr. President. Ah! Happy birthday! May you watch over us for a very long time." You wish him well, and he just smiles. This isn't one of his forced, political smiles. No.
It was a wolfish smile, a dangerous one. The one that he had a habit of showing you when he managed to outsmart you tracked you down in the forests of District 12.
"Thank you, my darling. You wouldn't deny a man his birthday wishes, would you?" A shiver runs through you as his irises focus on you. His tone is quieter and darker as he asks you a seemingly innocent question. But you know very well that nothing about Coriolanus Snow is innocent.
"Of course not, Mr. President." You reply courteously, already afraid of what he might want from you.
"Great. May I then?" He asks, sticking out his hand as he asks you to dance with a polite smile (if the devil can wear one).
"With great pleasure." You say, placing your hand in his. Without knowing why, you feel like you're putting it in the mouth of a lion... or in this case, a snake.
He holds your hand tightly as he helps you down the stairs. He doesn't let go of you for a second, and once you reach the dance floor, he wraps his arm around your waist and presses you against him, making you feel all his muscles hidden under his clothes. His eyes also never leave yours, which makes you very uncomfortable. Your anxiety only gets greater as you can't see the faces of the other members of your rebellion in the room.
"Nervous? Don't worry. You dance great." The smirk never leaves his face. And that's the kind of sly smirk. Of course, you dance great. After all, he taught you that himself in District 12.
"Thank you, Mr. President." At one point, the dance requires him to turn you around and press your back against his chest. You shiver as you feel his breath on your neck, then on your ear as he leans down, so he is very close to you.
"Do you think I'm stupid enough not to recognise you, Y/N? That I don't dream about you every night? That I didn't notice you when you and your ridiculous group of district dogs burst into my presidential palace?" You struggle, trying to break free from his grip, but he only grips your hip tighter, enough to surely leave bruises in the form of his fingers.
Coriolanus presses his lips against your temple and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent. You shiver in his arms at the familiar feeling of his closeness. You feel the gun hidden under his vest press against the back of your back. A tender reminder of how you both were still enemies and a deadly threat to each other.
His hands roam over your body, exploring you as much as he can manage in a crowd of people. But you doubt anyone would dare point out how he presses his crotch against your ass, forcing you to feel every last bit of him as he continues whispering darkly into your ear. "I've been hunting you for so many years... only for you to come running straight to me, as always. I honestly couldn't have asked for a better birthday present. Let's play a game. Our favourite, darling. Try to escape, my little hunter." He hums as he finally lets go of you.
You're not wasting your time.
You don't turn to see him smirking mockingly, to see the way his cheeks have turned slightly pink from the adrenaline and excitement coursing through his veins, or to see the way the bulge in his pants has become slightly more visible.
You run away from him without looking back, pushing through the crowd of people who are leaving in panic after the announcement that they must leave the villa immediately as a result of the detection of an attempted assassination of the head of state.
But not everything is lost yet.
You saw a few familiar faces in the crowd of people, including Meg and Joseph. And you know that if you want to save your plan and the members of the rebellion, then you have to get Coriolanus' full attention. Make him drop his guard and focus entirely on you.
That's why instead of trying to escpae you stop at the foot of the stairs leading to the first floor.
You watch the crowd of people storming towards the exit. Peacekeepers are pushing through them, some trying to catch the more suspicious ones and interrogate them; everyone is focused on the exit door. So you had to go upstairs. You see Coriolanus slowly walking out of the ballroom. He looks around for you, and when his eyes catch yours, he stops, examining you. You kick off your high heels and run upstairs.
You run forward, hearing the clatter of his shoes close behind you.
You avoid all the traps you have set and hide in one of the rooms. Your feet feel icy from the cool marble you're walking on, but you don't pay much attention to it. Your heart is racing, and you try to breathe as quietly as possible as you hide behind the curtain, listening.
The first thing he does is open all the doors. Of course, carefully and not by himself. He was fully aware that you might have some unpleasant surprises in store for him. He was made very aware of it by one of the peacekeepers who went with him and unlocked the mechanism that caused his beautiful crystal chandelier to fall on the soldier's head.
The maids will have to clean the blood from the white marble again. The next time he renovates the villa, he will have to think about a more... useful floor colour.
"Guard the remaining floors and all exits. Two of you stand by the stairs. I'll take care of this one myself. You go and catch the rest of these street rats." He orders them in a dry tone.
He knows full well that he can fight you alone, and he will do it much better than this bunch of idiots. You weren't just a pure force. You were the mastermind. And only Coriolanus was smart enough to follow your way of thinking and catch you. Just like he always did.
You hold your breath as you hear the footsteps of the peacekeepers spreading across the floor. Only Coriolanus remains. You hear his breathing and his slow, methodical steps. You can imagine him analyzing the hall, looking for traps and potential threats you could prepare for him.
"You know you can't escape, right?" he begins, his footsteps echoing off the walls of the empty, silent corridor. "You've been slipping out of my hands for too long, little hunter. Do you think I don't remember our lessons? That I don't know your systems and customs? I don't know that you packed the entire presidential palace with your little surprises. What a pity that you will never catch me in any of them..."
You hear him enter the room next to you. He drops something to the floor and steps away, closing the door with a bang as the mechanism activates, spreading corrosive gas across the room that was intended to hurt him.
"Really? Such a school trick? I thought you knew better than to test such... childish methods on me, darling. I remember you telling me about something like this after a particular night at your apartment. Can you believe that I remember much better those lessons during which you were moaning and screaming my name?" He chuckles, sinisterly, darkly at the memory.
And then you hear a step. And another one. And another one. Slow, unhurried, and careful. It was so quiet that you wouldn't have heard them if the villa wasn't as quiet as it is now.
He was approaching you slowly and saliently, just as you taught him all those years ago. As usual, he turned out to be a very talented student.
"I never thought you'd be a rebel. After all, you were always so submissive to me... especially under me. And wanting me dead... you know I've killed and turned into Avox for lesser crimes against me and the Panem? But don't worry... your mouth and tongue are too useful for me to take the pleasure they can give away from me ever again."
He starts whistling, checking another room. As you hear him pulling the covers off the bed, you slowly emerge from your hiding place. You take a small step closer to the bathroom and freeze as the floor creaks beneath you.
"Spikes embedded in the mattress? Were you hoping to seduce me and put me on this deathbed? We can always try this... on a less lethal mattress, of course. What would you say, little hunter? Pardon. My sweet rebel?" You close the door quietly behind you and look around the dark room. Window. Maybe if you could open it...
"All these years, and you still use the same perfume." He grunts and closes the door behind him. You shudder, realising that he knows you're in this room. You tighten your hand on the knife hidden in the sleeve of your dress and wait in the cold bathroom for his next steps. "Don't you have a little Deja vu? It reminds me of when you and Lucy Gray ran away from me. That bitch is still hiding. I suspect you don't know where, but you are in contact through some letters or something. As soon as I find her, I will kill her on the spot. I know very well that she was the reason you left me. Don't get me wrong, I'm also angry at you for that... but not as mad as I am at her."
After Sejanus was hanged, he and you planned to escape together. And God, you loved it. You would have sacrificed your whole life for him if it weren't for Lucy Gray, who told you the truth about your beloved devil. So when he came out of the cottage near the lake, worrying about how you had been gone for too long and looking for you with a gun in his hand, you ran away.
"Y/N! Y/N, where are you?! Y/N! Y/N! I will find you! There is no fucking place you can hide from me! Can you hear me, hunter?! NO FUCKING PLACE! YOU ARE MINE! YOU WILL BE ALWAYS MINE! I will mark you like cattle and tie you to my side forever!"
You dream of his screams at some night.
"You promised you wouldn't leave me! You lying bitch!"
You hear his footsteps in the other room as he opens the curtains and checks to see if you're outside the window.
"You think I won't find you?! That you can crawl into a hole that I can't get you out of?! YOU'RE MINE, Y/N! Alive or dead, I don't care! YOU BELONG TO ME!"
You hear him take steps towards the closet, opening it and throwing things out, making sure it's empty. You hear him knocking over several items—the bed, the armchairs. You hold your breath as there is complete silence. He's probably looking at the bathroom door.
You feel your heart beating in your chest just as fast as it did that day when you hid from him as he walked around with a gun, screaming and calling for you. And you almost left. You almost left, wanting to fall into his arms as he kneeled in the middle of the forest and cried, smelling his mother's scarf that he gave you and which was saturated with your scent. But before you could, he screamed and started shooting at the mockingjays in the trees. So you ran away.
And you've been running away since then, hoping that you were a terrible teacher to him and that he would never find you...
"If you leave willingly, I will spare you the unpleasant part, my little rebel. Maybe you can even convince me to forget your transgressions completely… well within reason. However, I suspect that my bed is more comfortable than the floor of a prison cell. Don't you think?"
Maybe if he had used a less mocking tone, if you hadn't heard the pleasure dripping from his voice at his superiority over you and the excitement at catching you, then maybe you would have left willingly. You shake your hand, holding the knife tighter in your hand. No. You wouldn't leave and let him catch you without a fight. He has done too much to you and to other district people to pretend he's not a monster.
"I count to three." You hold your breath, stopping yourself from shaking. The cool air gives you goosebumps as you wait for him to take a step closer to the bathroom's door. "One."
You hear the rustle of fabric; he must have taken off his jacket and probably his mask too. You reach up to your face and untie your own mask, taking it off with a trembling hands.
"Two." Before he enters the room, you hide, so you're standing behind the door, which Coriolanus opens before he counts to three.
Another trick you taught him. Act unpredictably. Don't warn the prey about your next step, and don't let it catch you by surprise.
That's why Coriolanus stands still when he sees the bathroom window open. Your mask lies on the windowsill, taunting him as the moonlight reflects off the silver thread from which it was sewn and glows, tempting him to follow the trail.
That's why, as soon as he comes to the window, you quickly step out from behind the door and close it behind you with a bang.
A moment later, you hear his curses and quick footsteps. You run forward and enter the next room, being careful not to activate any mechanisms. Just as you close the door behind you, you feel him grab the handle on the other side.
In a panic, you do the same and pull the door towards you, wrestling with him. You know it won't get you very far. Coriolanus was stronger than you. He would get inside quickly. You had to think of another way to escape and create distance between you.
"That's enough, Y/N! We had fun, but that's it. You have no way to escape. You know it damn well! Be a good girl and get out." He growls at you, trying to push the door open and get inside.
"So you can kill me?! Hang me like Sejanus?!" You ask angrily, wrestling with him at the door. You feel yourself getting weaker, so you make an instinctive decision. You let go of the door and ran to the window, opening it. You turn around as the door slams shut. You two are standing in the same room again.
You look at each other carefully. You both breathe quickly, analysing each other's possible movements.
"You know I would never hurt you." He starts by taking a small step towards you. You step back to the open window, and he freezes. You may have been on the first floor, but the presidential palace was huge. If you jump out, you will smash into the asphalt and die. And he won't win. Coriolanus cannot afford this. That's why he's standing still for now.
"You killed people. How was I supposed to know I wouldn't be next?" You accuse him, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Your mind analyses all the possibilities. You're tempted to jump. Free yourself from him once and for all. Make him lose. Although this time.
"You could have trusted me. Just a little longer."
"Sorry, I have a survival instinct. Very strong survival instinct." You say this, avoiding his gaze. He takes advantage of your distraction and takes a step towards you, which you don't notice because you are too busy thinking of an escape plan.
"Not that big since you came here. For what? To kill me? Will you stab me in the heart, Y/N? Will you shoot me? Will you poison me?"
"You left me no other choice." You growl at him, furious, tightening your grip on the dagger.
"You don't want to do this. I know you. If you really wanted me to fall into a trap, you'd make it so that I couldn't move my damn foot an inch without activating something. So I'll ask again. Why did you come here?"
You do not know. Really. You can't answer his question.
Because... Yes, you hated him. And yes, you despised him. And yes, you were afraid of the monster he had become. But nothing could change the fact that, deep down, you loved him. You cried hundreds of tears because of him, which ricocheted off the walls of the wall you so eagerly built around yourself and your stupid hearth so no one else would be able to hurt you again. You didn't let anyone else get to know you. Not like Coriolanus did. He was the only one who saw the real you. The part of you that you were so afraid to show anyone else or to even look at them by yourself.
"Y/N. Look at me." It's not a request. This is a command. Subtle, but still. And you know, that's all he'll give you. Commands, expectations.
Never look your prey in the eyes. The first rule you taught him. The only one he always broke.
Maybe because of sadism? Maybe he enjoyed watching realisation shine in his victims' eyes as they realised he was winning. But you can't resist following his command and looking into those icy irises you once knew so well.
Or maybe he really cared about you more than anyone else. You'd like to believe that.
"I can give you everything. The whole world. All you have to do is trust me." He says, taking a few steps closer to you. You bite your lip. You can try to run away, but you know he will catch you. You weren't on your own turf. And he had a hundred tracking dogs, ready to find you. Crook.
"Trust you? After everything you've done?" You mock him. But he doesn't answer. There is perfect silence in the room.
Before you know it, he runs towards you. He activates the mechanism, causing a crossbow arrow to pierce his arm. He ignores it in favour of reaching out to you. He quickly injects something into your neck, holding you tightly against his chest. You stabbed him in the stomach. His blood spurts onto your dress as he makes sure you can't move, ignoring his wounds for a moment. Of course, he retaliates by tightening his grip on you, leaving his fingerprints on your skin.
"So you chose the hard path. Too bad, my little hunter. For you. I'll be damned glad to have the opportunity to train you. I will make you the perfect first lady, my darling." He whispers in your ear, and as you fall unconscious in his arms, you realise one terrifying thing. He caught you. He won this round.
You have to put plan B into action all alone.
You foresaw that your plan might fail and that someone would betray you. That's why you and Meg came up with... a contingency plan. After all, you had to keep your promise.
You're not leaving this presidential palace until you see the life drain from Coriolanus Snow. It will be your prison until then. A golden cage. No matter how long it will take... Or at least try to convince yourself that you have to do it. Because you know you must do it for the good of Panem. That you can't back down from anything at the next opportunity. You can't hesitate. No matter how much you will be drunk on the blame and pain of killing him.
It was a game of survival. A game only you and Coriolanus knew how to play. You had to win. For the good of people. To stop the suffering he caused.
After all, the caged wolf was still a threat. Even for poisonous snakes.
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PART 2 (last)
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yok00k · 6 months
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telepatía
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pairing: idol!jk x model!oc
genre: fluff!
“a kilómetros estamos conectando”
—synopsis: when you’re getting ready for a party and jungkook, who’s thousands kilometers away from you, wants to video call.
word count: 1,082
warning: ldr, they’re disguisingly so cute, the word “baby” was said for about 1 million times it’s sickening, different timezones, oc dress in front of jk, mention of insomnia, anxiety, stress, mention of an uncomfy situation of oc where other men were being men, protective jk (this jk is not a manipulator, trust), 1st person pov(im so sorry)
author’s note: my second drabble/fluff!!! this was shorter than I wanted it to be but there will be few (idk how many, it depends to the future me) series of idol!jk x model!oc. <the meaning of ‘mahal ko’ means ‘my love’ in filipino>
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Taking a cold shower after having an intense leg day plus cardio at the gym hits so different. I feel like a brand new person after getting out of my bathroom. I then settle down in front of my vanity table and begin doing my skin care + makeup. As I finished a smooth base of foundation, my phone vibrated.
2 messages received from
mahal ko🐰🤍
|| hey baby
|| can we facetime plz? wanna see u
[10:33 pm]
his text was unanticipated at this hour since it’s 5 am in Korea.
me
|| sure bb
[10:34 pm]
mahal ko wants to facetime
drop everything i have with my hands, i swiftly hit the green button, eagerly to see and hear his voice. we’re mostly texting these days because of having different time zones and working schedules to follow. Oftentimes when he’s free and wants to facetime me, I would be either at work or sleeping and vice versa.
“hi pretty!!” he cheerfully greeted me as my phone screen revealed his cute sleepy face. As usual, he’s wearing one of the eight Supreme beanies i got for him when I was in Tokyo. [side story: i was just strolling in the streets of Harajuku when i found this one clothing store that has a lot of stuffs i know jungkook would like and that’s when i bought those comfy beanies along with other nice things]^_^
“helloo, my ggukie can't sleep?” i asked while finding something i can lean my phone on so that i can continue doing my makeup
“응.. i'm trying to sleep but can’t.“ he simply explained as he placed his phone on the side of his bed, moving his naked body to a more comfortable lying position. His arm filled with cool, artistic tattoos is out and on sight, while his other arm were covered with the thick white comforter, so as his entire body.
“What's been going on in your mind?” I know that something is bothering him at times like this. i get that having the job and lifestyle he has, isn’t merely easy. the pressure, the media, the fans, everything. But although he deals with all these things, I never once heard him complain about them because he knows that that’s what he signed up for the day he chose to pursue being an idol.
“Just been stressed lately with rehearsals and I'm still jet lagged, maybe I have insomnia? ‘m not sure but it’s driving me crazy. now i get what u mean when u say ur body is tired and ready to sleep but ur mind isn’t.” he further describes how he feels. The worry and anxiety is written in his facial expression.
“my poor kookie you could’ve call me earlier and i would help you to fall asleep”
“but you were at the gym. i know you like blasting reggaeton music while working out.” he pouty responds. well, in his defense he’s right. I love that he remembers small details about me but nothing can top my love for him.
“i do that but I prefer listening to my boyfriend’s angelic voice while working out so that i’ll have motivation to do more reps.” replied to him right off the bat. realistically i meant what i said. I usually don’t like talking to people when doing workouts but he is an exception.
I received no words but a soft laugh. He must have thought I was kidding. I took a glance at him before I put lipgloss on[his favorite shade].
i can see him covering the blush he has all over his face. i'm very glad to see him having relief.
‘’Where is my pretty girl up to? hmm?” he curiously asks as i put highlights as my last step to finish up the look
“just going to the club for Sakura’s birthday party, i'm running out of social energy almost every day because of work and parties but I can't miss this event” I explained as I headed over to my walk-in closet.
“hmm ‘kay tell her i said happy birthday. what are you gonna wear?”
“well i'm debating on wearing a black leather mini skirt with this asymmetrical black top and for shoes i have this black knee high boots or i just go with this simple black mini backless dress with these red bottoms high heels” i say as i show him all the clothes. he and I almost have the same taste in fashion. if we were to combine all of our clothes, they are pretty much all black. whenever it’s shoes, jackets, tops, pants, etc. this is why buying clothes for one another isn’t difficult for us.
“What did I tell you about mini skirts bb?” oh. i forgot that he allows me to wear mini skirts unless i’m with him since an incident happened when i was in the club and random guys were making me so uncomfortable by giving disguising lust looks and nastily commenting on my skirts. Although he and I know that no matter what a girl wears, guys in the clubs will act like animals regardless. He told me to not wear it because he’s controlling me but rather because he won’t be there to protect me if something happens.
“ok then the second choice it is” i confirmed, putting the first outfit choice back to where they belong.
“how about you wear that mini skirt when we go on a date? how’s that sound?” he suggests.
“ok then ggukie”
“dress in front of me?” he boyishly asks, using his deep alluring voice. He definitely knows what he’s doing. How can I say no to him?
After dressing, I proceeded to put on the Cartier necklace with his initials in it that he gifted to me when he first came to visit my penthouse in Chicago.
“still have my oversized leather jacket with you?” he inquire before he yawned
“yupp, why?” I curiously asked
“bring it with you please. i don’t want you getting cold in there” he softly requested. him and his simple gestures make me fall in love with him deeper.
“i will baby thank you”
“i love you ___, don’t look at other men” jk murmur jokingly. Well, I hope he said that in a humorous way for the reason that I assure him with my sincere words almost every hour.
“ I love you more gguk i’ll update you ok?” he just hums, waving his hands leisurely to say goodbye.
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thesirencult · 9 months
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PAC READING : WHO HAS A CRUSH ON YOU?
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1---2
3---4
PILE 1
The Tower, The Fool
This is someone you would never expect to have feelings for you. You view them as distant, private an cold towards you and others. There is something magnetic to them and, at times, they let their cold façade go. Then, you get to experience a different side of them. They may have played with children in front of you or taken care of an elderly person, assisting them to cross the street. This person loves animals and has a soft spot for them. This reminds me of a strong, tall man who build a sanctuary for chihuahuas after his wife left him. Now he takes care of them and encourages other men to break the stereotype and adopt a smaller dog.
So, this person could also be tall and either lanky or lean-muscular. Others see them as intimidating and may try to avoid them in social situations (like coworkers not inviting them out for a drink after work).
I don't think they'll express themselves. They feel very ashamed of their feelings for you and believe that you see them as "not good enough". This has nothing to do with the way you treat them and has everything to do about their own perception of themselves.
They are very innocent at heart and get hurt when people exclude them. This tells me that you must have treated them like your "chihuahua". You are the one who encourages them and offers help or a few kind words. They love your kind and sweet nature but it's hard for them to show their true emotions. You will notice them get shy and anxious around you, like a little kid. Give them a chance by letting them get closer to you.
PILE 2
Judgement, The Magician, 5 Of Wands
This person is very fair and just. They will love every single inch of you and they won't shy away from telling you that. You see yourself as "not being good enough" and the person who has a crush on you will pick up on how you feel immediately. They will try to get you to see your beauty and will get sad when you talk bad about yourself. They just don't understand how someone as perfect and beautiful as you doesn't realise their own strength and beauty.
This person is a master manifestor. They just know how to alchemize energy and change their physical reality. They will see that you have this ability too and they will admire how you are trying to forge your own path. They have probably manifested you into their lives and they'll idolize you a lot.
If there is an age gap (5+), this person will try to hold back and act as a mentor towards you but, they are very competitive with others and possessive. Their feelings will shine through when they sense someone else trying to get with you. You'll notice their absurd behaviour, call them out and they will just kiss you.
"I'll show you why I'm acting this way." And then smooch 💋.
PILE 3
Queen Of Cups, 7 Of Pentacles, 5 Of Pentacles
Okey-dokey! My sweet Pile 3, if you are not into girls or feminines, I would advise you to choose another pile. Otherwise, if you choose to stay, this energy could resonate with your personal journey towards love and abundance.
I'm seeing a very sweet soul waiting for you. This energy is very light and free-flowing. You may not have met this person yet, because of divine timing. I'm getting that when you meet them it will be "love at first sight". You'll catch them doing something random, like picking up a dumbbell at the gym or petting a dog, or even voting (?).
This "exchange" from afar will drive you crazy cause you will know nothing about this person and you'll think you will never see them again. I see that fate has other plans for you.
This feminine is your future spouse and she is very into personal development at the moment. They will be preoccupied with finances and they are trying to clear up "abundance blocks".
At first, they will seem reserved and preoccupied with other things. You'll exchange a few looks and sparks will be flying, so this is a case of a reciprocated crush.
They are quite happy with being by themselves and working on their coins and foundations for their future. I bet you'll hear them talk about that and you'll think "Baby don't worry, I'm your future 💋."
Slowly you'll start talking and I hope you make the next step otherwise they'll never ever let you in.
But, after you get closer to them, you'll realize that they are a very deep and wise person and not just sunny all the time. Actually you'll think of them as darker and lunar. You will love their passion and mysterious disposition. Be their fearless protector and their rock to climb up to and watch the sunrise.
PILE 4
The Hierophant, 9 Of Cups, Queen Of Pentacles
Right now you are going through a "level up" phase. I don't even know why you are waisting your time here. Lol. You are quite independent, fierce and unstoppable. You are also trying to manifest someone like you.
The person who will soon come towards and confess their crush on you is not someone overly "hard". They are quite dreamy and soft. They like ice-cream and long walks. They will take you on romantic dates and worry that you don't like the scenery because you are not talking that much.
This person sees you as a boos b*tch. They admire you and have put you in a pedestal. I'm hearing "Let me service you Queen.". They like "ice-cream" ! Oh my! This person really wants you and they would jump through hoops to get to you.
They'll pass all your tests with flying colours and you will keep wondering how they are such a good match for you. Let them feel like you are in control and they'll submit to you.
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daycourtofficial · 27 days
Text
Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 12
Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 3.5k | Masterlist |Warnings: none
Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.
Author's note: we are SO BACK BABY.
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Immediately after agreeing to go on this date, Mor whisked you into your room, sitting you down on your bed as she went through your closet. She muttered to herself about your wardrobe not being organized and the two of you argue through her muttering about how you organize your closets differently. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be having sex with Cassian right now?”
She scoffs, moving your hangers about, searching with intent. “No, I want to help you look hot for your date, babe.”
It was your turn to scoff at her as you flopped on your bed, pulling out your phone.
“You’ve never cared before.” You unlock your phone, a bit surprised at her sudden interest in your date. You open your text messages, the last one from Azriel was a few hours ago when he accused you of snoring.
“He’s really cute.” She moved through a few of your dresses, pursing her lips in concentration.
You roll your eyes and your phone starts buzzing in your hands. You decline the call once you see the name ‘dad’ light up your screen.
“Maybe he’ll be so cute that I won’t hear anything he says and we’ll live happily ever after because I can just gaze into his eyes forever.”
Mor chuckles, pulling out a black dress and bringing it to you. “You never know.” You laugh at her antics as she helps you with your hair, her fingers scratching your scalp.
Mor offers to drive you to the restaurant, stating she wanted to be nice. You’re well aware she’s doing it so she can ensure you actually go on the date. The two of you gossip in the car, talking about how Feyre keeps asking you about Rhysand constantly.
“We’re here!” 
You look outside of the car, not having paid much attention to your surroundings, to find yourself in front of a mini golf place. You look around, thinking the restaurant must be somewhere nearby, but the only other stores nearby are a discount tire store and a barbershop. 
“Uh, Mor… I’m not exactly dressed for mini golf.” To further your point, you sweep your hand up and down at your heels and the blue mini dress you were wearing. She undoes her seatbelt, pushing herself across the seat to open your door. She undoes your buckle and starts pushing you out of the car.
“Go, go, go. Be free. Have fun.”
She winks overdramatically at you. “But Mor, I don’t - this wasn’t the plan. Who am I looking for?”
“You’ll know him when you see him - he’s wearing a blue shirt.”
You start to yell her name, but she pulls back on the door and blows you a kiss before driving off, her red car disappearing down the street as you watched, still confused as to how you ended up here.
You turned around, the bright lights of the arcade shining through the windows.
You sighed, ready to get this night over with. She told you she was setting you up with one of Cassian’s friends, but Cassian was friends with everybody. You could be meeting anyone - someone Cassian works with or the guy at the deli that makes Cassian’s turkey sub just right. Then again, the last time Cassian got a sub from there he went on and on about that guy’s arms, so at least he’d be nice to look at. 
You quickly straighten your dress before walking inside. You don’t expect the date to go anywhere, but you still want to look good. Moving through the arcade games, you try to keep your face pleasant, despite the annoyance you feel at Mor. You see a few guys with blue shirts on, and you feel a tad bit ridiculous in your strappy dress and heels, the clicking drowned out by the high pitched whirring and buzzing of the games around you.
None of the guys wearing blue shirts seem to be waiting for anyone, all their focus is on their friends or the games in front of them. Eyes scanning the arcade, a non stop barrage of overstimulation. 
Your eyes meet hazel ones as you smile, a look of slight confusion on your face as you look over to find Azriel playing skee ball, the ball slipping from his fingers as he sees you. You point to him, and he just points back, not paying attention to the tickets spouting from the machine.
You smile walking over to him, and he stands up straighter as you come over to him. Your heels don’t do much to help the height difference between the two of you. You’re peering up at him, not sure what to say. 
You weren’t expecting this.
“Are you my date for tonight?” You tilt your head, and take a second to drink in what he’s wearing. He’s dressed in a midnight blue dress shirt, the buttons undone just enough to get a glimpse of the tattoos on his chest. The shadowy wisps of ink call to you, begging you to undo more of the buttons, begging to be seen. His dress pants hug his thighs deliciously, his belt highlighting his trim waist. You were not being subtle, but neither was Azriel as you finally looked back up and found his eyes roaming your body.
You blush under his scrutiny, and his eyes snap back to yours.
Caught, they scream. 
His ears pink slightly, a smile stretching across his face, “well, maybe Mor can get her matchmaking right at least once.”
You laugh, and he smiles at the sound. “If she’s ever right, she’ll be insufferable.”
He hums in agreement, “but if she’s right about us, she’ll be insufferable with setting other people up, not us.”
“I think she’ll bring it up any chance she gets, thinking she set us up.”
The two of you stroll to the counter. Azriel pays the teenager behind the counter, who turns and grabs putters and balls for the both of you before sliding the blue and red clubs across the counter. He nods at you both before turning away. You grab little scorecards before heading outside, and you write your names on the small line, trying to balance the paper while walking.
“So it wasn’t Mor that set us up?” 
Azriel’s voice shakes you from your concentration, causing the ‘L’ at the end of his name to grow long on the scorecard. You look at him, his arm brushing against your own. You shake your head, “no.”
He smiles, eyebrows lifting, “so our nosy friend didn’t set us up?”
You blush under his gaze, fiddling with your putter. You step up to the first hole, a fairly straight forward, easy shot. You drop the ball on the putting green watching it bounce to avoid looking at him. “Well, I mean she did, but we were- you know…”
“I actually don’t know, enlighten me.” Your shocked face and stammering make his grin widen.
“I mean we were-“ you clear your throat, using the putter to move your ball a bit, “definitely becoming something.”
A moment of silence passes between you two, making you grow more nervous at his scrutiny. “Right?” You add. You lined up your putter, hitting the ball just enough to overshoot the hole, the ball bouncing off the back wall and coming back only a few feet in front of you. Azriel’s laugh is loud at your poor putt and hopefully only about your poor putt.
He gives you that smile that makes you weak in your knees as he grabs your elbow, pulling you from the putting green, his gaze heavy on you as he says, “yeah, we’re definitely becoming something.”
The night moved more smoothly after that, a tension you didn’t know lifting. You still weren’t sure what it was between you two, but at least he didn’t know either. By the fourth hole, conversation was flowing easily between the two of you, your cheeks already hurting from smiling so much.
He spent a significant portion of the evening teasing your poor putting game, around the seventh hole he stopped you after your ninth attempt to get the ball in the hole. 
“You are truly pitiful at this game.”
“Stooooop,” you drag out the word, a faux shocked expression on your face as you look at him. 
“Here, let me show you.” You roll your eyes, looking up at the obvious pass he’s about to make on you. You expect him to come from behind you, wrapping his arms around you to show you how to putt.
You’re surprised when he grabs your hands instead, pulling you behind him as he wraps your arms around his waist, pulling you close to his back. You laugh into his back, the warmth radiating from him making you want to melt into him.
“I’ve never seen them do this in the movies.”
You feel his hum vibrate through his chest into your cheek. 
“And how well did that work out for those people in the movies?”
You laugh, and you put your hands over his, rubbing the scarred skin with your thumb. “Now, just feel how I putt.” You follow his movements as he pulls the putter back, knocking the ball along the artificial mounds until it softly fell into the hole.
“If only I could use you to putt for every hole.”
You eventually untangle yourself from him and he stops to pick up his golf ball as you two walk to the next hole. The people in front of you aren’t finished, so you two stand off to the side, leaning against some rocks as they play.
“I’m a bit surprised you didn’t take a shot before coming here. Don’t you usually have a drink for first dates?”
You hum, “see I drink a bit on the dates that Mor sets me up on, otherwise I won’t make it through the evening. I didn’t know we’d be here without alcohol until we showed up.”
He laughs, putting his hand on one of the rocks. You quirk your mouth, debating what to do, when your hand moves on its own, resting on top of his. He’s quick to rotate his hand, so your palms are together and he rubs his thumb against the back of your hand.
“Those guys were only semi-interesting if I was two or three drinks in.”
He smiles down at your hands, his scarred one much larger than yours. It surprises him a bit how easily he forgot about the scars, his thoughts consumed with just wanting your touch, not dwelling on how you’d react to the texture. 
“And where am I on the drink-to-interesting scale?”
“Hmmm,” you lean back, tapping your finger to your chin, pretending to think. “Welll, if I had known it was going to be you, I would be at least five drinks in before getting here.”
He fake gasps, placing a hand over his heart, “you wound me.”
The family in front of you finish putting, moving onto the next hole. You throw your ball down on the green, looking with annoyance at the tiny windmill on the green that is sure to thwart your game.
You giggle, “I- um, I do like being around you. Sober, that is. If I knew it was you I wouldn’t pregame this date. Just so you know.”
You hit the ball, watching it bounce off the windmill blade right back to you. You groan, but Azriel’s voice cuts through. “I gotta say, Mor might not be great at setting you up, but she’s only set me up once and she did a fantastic job.”
Your cheeks heat, smile too big for your face as you putt again, the ball going underneath the windmill and into the hole successfully. You quickly turn, sticking your tongue out at Azriel.
“See, I just had to get warmed up.”
You pick up your scorecard, excited to write something lower than a 5 for the first time, peering at Azriel over it. You find him looking at you the same way, moving your eyes back down to read the score.
“Stop looking at me, I’m trying to calculate who’s winning,” you mutter, sticking your tongue out trying to do mental math.
You barely hear him whisper out, “math or no, I think it’s me that’s winning.”
Your eyes meet his over the scorecard and you’re frozen by just how soft he looked in this moment - the ridiculous colors reflecting on his tan skin, 
He looked so kind and full of love.
You quickly look back down at the scorecard, trying to keep the heat from spreading across your cheeks. 
He was winning by a ridiculous amount. You could get a hole in one on every shot and still lose.
Several holes later, you watch as Azriel lines up to putt. His gaze is focused on the ball, and yours is focused on how nice those pants make his ass look.
“I really thought this was going to be disastrous for a first date. At least at dinner I can get food,” you mused, watching him hit the ball. “I don’t understand why people usually go to dinner for first dates. No one looks hot while eating. All of those first dates and they all looked so ugly while eating.”
“You’ve never seen Cassian eat chicken wings then. He could make an honest man out of me.”
You shoved him, laughing at the image. Cassian was a notoriously messy eater - a fact you learned very quickly after making spaghetti for the two of you one night. You move to the next hole, having to carefully plan out your steps in your heels.
“Did you know it would be me?”
He turns and smiles shyly at you, “no, I had no idea. Mor told me if I went on this date, she’d never force you to go on another first date.”
You smile back at him as you reach the last hole, making a godsawful putt. “That’s mighty kind of you to do that for me, seeing as I told you before all about Mor’s terrible matchmaking skills.”
He shrugs, his smile growing sheepish. “I figured I’d tell whoever it was that Mor set me up with that I’m a convicted felon.”
“They might be into that.” You move over to where you ball landed, trying to figure out the best angle to hit it. You’ve tried most everything by this point, so you opt for just hitting the thing as hard as possible until it goes in.
“I’d end the date by providing them the address for the penitentiary and tell them they can write to me anytime, but that the guards read it so they should be careful when sending dirty letters.”
Your new plan is disastrous, the ball leaving the green entirely and rolling away. You curse as Azriel runs after it and drops it in the hole for you, watching it disappear.
“I can’t believe you’d receive dirty letters.” 
“Why not? I’d use them as currency in prison.”
“So if I wrote you dirty letters in prison you’d trade them away?” You waggle your eyebrows at him as he moves to putt.
“Absolutely not. I’d keep them hidden away, for my eyes only.”
He takes the last putt, sinking his ball into the last hole, where it disappears to be collected by some employee. You move to mark down his fourth hole in one, grumbling about how this game was rigged as you return your putters.
“Can I see the scorecard?”
“Ha ha, yes my score was terrible, do you want to laugh at it some more?” Your voice comes out deadpan.
“Mmmm, something like that.”
You hand it to him, and he quickly tucks it away into his pocket.
Your gaze is scorching as the two of you walk to the doors, and you forget to ask him about the card when you remember that Mor brought you here, and Azriel rides a motorcycle.
And you’re wearing a dress.
You’re about to ask him about what to do when a dark red truck beeps twice.
“I borrowed Cassian’s truck for the night.”
You raise your eyebrows, but Azriel cuts off your thinking. “Mor told me to.”
“Does Cassian know it’s for a date?”
Azriel laughs as he opens your door before quickly moving to his side and getting in. “No, if I did he would have sent me out with about a thousand condoms.”
You snort, but his face drains of color as he starts stammering, “I didn’t- I mean I don’t… expect that.. Cassian.. I just-”
His voice trails off, and he stares straight ahead as he turns on the truck. Your knee slides across the seat, bumping into his. He pulls out of the parking lot, his hands tight on the steering wheel.
“I’m not a first date kinda girl, even if the walk back to my apartment would be incredibly short.”
His grip on the wheel loosens slightly, and the red light changes to green.
“Third date, though…”
His cheeks heat at your cheekiness, and you watch the cars go by on the road. You turn on the radio, Cassian’s favorite country station blaring through the speakers. You roll your eyes as you turn down the volume, searching through the stations. You stop when you find something soft and slow that sounds vaguely familiar, and you sit back in your seat.
The ride is mostly quiet, save for the radio. You two eventually make it back to your apartment building, Cassian’s small truck idling before Azriel cuts it off. The nerves are back, eating through your stomach as you look at him. The streetlights made his hazel eyes look golden as he watched you.
The silence stretches as you two watch each other, an endless pool of fondness swimming in your shared gaze. His hands move, turning off the engine.
“So.”
“So.”
He turns towards you, his arm slowly going behind your headrest, giving you every time opportunity to stop him. Your eyes just follow the movement before leaning back onto his arm. 
“I had fun tonight.”
His voice is soft, his gaze unwavering. 
“Me too.”
You watch his eyes flick down to your lips briefly before coming back up. “We could do it again, if you’d like.”
Your words fail you as you nod, and his smile widens. He fidgets with his fingers, biting his lip lightly.
A second date - his step forward. Now it was your turn to push.
“Can I kiss you?”
His heart is thrumming in his chest, his turn to nod without speaking. You shift in your seat, moving closer to his face. His hands tremble slightly as he places them on your neck. 
“Gods, yes.” He whispers his words into your mouth, his touch leaving an imprint on your skin.
Your noses bump into each other. Your lips meet his and his touch is all consuming. It’s soft, slow, full of trepidation. 
It’s clumsy at first, both of you so unsure and full of nerves. After a moment you get your bearings, your hands finding their way to his cheeks as the two of you keep kissing, unwilling to stop for air.
His lips are soft against your own, his fingers warm on your neck. The two of you eventually pull apart, panting, Cassian’s windows covered in a thick fog. You giggle as you draw a tiny heart in the condensation.
“Do you um wanna come upstairs? My roommate’s gone for the night.”
All thoughts leave his head, but before he can spiral, your voice stops him.
“I don’t want to, ya know. I mean I do- just not yet. Like I said I’m not really a first date kind of girl for that. It’s just not me, but um ya know I figured we could watch a movie or eat like actual dinner…”
He nods a bit too enthusiastically. “I could order us a pizza? I could stop by my apartment, change into some sweats?”
“I could put on some pajamas?”
You two just nod softly at each other. A moment passes before you realize you actually have to get out of the car to keep the date going. You laugh, a sound that makes Azriel’s heart swell. You get out of the truck, your body close to Azriel’s as you two walk into your building. The lights of the lobby are bright compared to the night sky outside.
The elevator hums softly as it takes the two of you up to your floor. 
“Just give me like ten minutes before coming over? I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”
You take a deep breath as you unlock your door, watching him go into his own apartment. You quickly shuffle inside, turn your phone off of do not disturb, and immediately Facetime Mor.
Your face is bright red on your screen as you move through your apartment, discarding your shoes and dress, pulling on sweats. Mor declines your call, and you opt to leave her a voicemail.
“Mor, why didn’t you tellmeIwasgoingonadatewithAzrielyouabsolutebuffoon.”
Your words come out hurried and hushed, checking he hasn’t come in yet. You put on a comfy shirt before saying, “but… Thank you. You’re a lovely buffoon, he’s coming over to watch a movie so keep Cassian away for as long as possible. Preferably three weeks. Love you, bye!”
You hang up, deciding to text her too.
I both love and hate you, I hope you know that.
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Thanks for reading! 💕
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alice-after-dark · 2 months
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Vox & Alastor's Portrayal of Power
Vox and Alastor handle their public and power very differently. Alastor wants to inspire fear. Vox, however, wants adoration. Yes, of course he wants people to respect his power, but his ultimate drive is for the public to love and admire him. And so he must tailor his image to please them whereas Alastor tailors his image to terrify.
Like, for contrast, when Alastor is walking down the street having his chat with Zestial, we see sinners literally lighting themselves on fire out of fear. That's how terrified the public is of these two. They would rather set themselves on fire than risk whatever they might do to them.
We see the polar opposite with Vox.
When Vox comes out of his elevator, there is a massive crowd of people ready and practically salivating to talk to him. They don't run. They don't lose their minds at his arrival. They bend over backwards to try and get close to him. And Vox loves every second of it. He slaps on his public persona and does what he does best: put on a show. His slogan is literally "Trust Us."
Now, I'm absolutely certain that Vox has publicly displayed his power on several occasions (can't have people forgetting that he is in fact a powerful Overlord), but I guarantee you that all of these incidents have been carefully calculated for his image. He can't just go off on some random bystander for looking at him the wrong way (like Valentino would). He probably waits for some blatant show of disrespect and then very quickly and efficiently puts them in their place. It's not a big dramatic show like Alastor or a mindless rampage like Valentino. It's swift, it's clean, and it's terrifying. But because he doesn't lose his shit at every little thing, it still leaves him approachable.
Arguably, he is the most personable and approachable of the Vees and he likes it that way. Valentino is charming when he wants/needs to be, but also volatile and hostile and easily enraged when things don't go his way. Velvette...well, she's more likely to just ignore you entirely but that's her brand, she is that #bitch after all (which Vox will gladly take over a public tantrum; besides, it means when she does engage, it's all the more impactful). With Vox, however, people hang on his every word and opinion and flock to him when something big happens (look at how sinners specifically cared about his opinion regarding the shifted Extermination deadline). His image is everything and controlling that image is his top priority because it's how he controls the public.
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wutheringcaterpillar · 2 months
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Would you please do a stepbro! Tommy smut with a piss kink? Maybe he makes reader hold it?
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Summary: Your step brother finds you out stumbling drunk, there’s only one thing that must be done for you to learn.
warnings: watersports, piss kink, dom/sub dynamics, p in v, mentions of intoxication, humiliation, degradation, stepcest
Everyone knew Tommy was close with you, always around one another, joking around, sometimes playing games that step siblings shouldn’t be playing. 
You hadn’t been home since breakfast and though you were well old enough not to have a curfew, Tommy still demanded to know where you were, who you were with and that you’d be home before dark.
Yet here he was driving down the street in the piss pouring rain looking for his step sister whom he may or may not have a sick, twisted, far too loving relationship with.
Stumbling off through the dark alley giggling with your friends, a car pulled up by the sidewalk that you knew all too well to be your step brother Tommy.
Bidding you goodbye, your friends scattered off, frightened of him, while the brick wall you were now leaning against was the only thing keeping you up on your feet.
Tommy stepped out of the car the rain pouring down onto his head as he slammed the door shut in anger, walking toward you with vigours, thunderous steps.
“I’ve been looking for you all night, and you’ve been out getting drunk at me fooking pub?” Making a sly goofy smile, Tommy rolled his eyes shoving you in the car before driving off back to the house.
The liqour was creating a sense of sexual urgency, and need to be fucked. Yet unlike all other days Tommy disregarded your longing stares and seductive touches, instead leading you into his office, forcing you down on a chair demanding you not move.
“Since you love drinking so much, why don’t we see just how much you can withstand.” Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, Tommy returned, his heated gaze never swaying from your hazy eyes.
“Drink up, love.” He eyed you from the opposite side of his desk, pushing the tremendously full glass of water toward you.
Eyeing him nervously, you did as he said, allowing the cool liquid to drench your dry throat, relinquishing the headache almost immediately.
His ocean eyes impended directly on you, focusing on the discomfort you attempted to hide.
“You will hold it until I say so.” Whimpering, he stood from his chair, massaging your shoulders, his plush lips dusting against your ear.
“Maybe you’ll learn your lesson next time, eh love?”
You just hadn’t realized how far Tommy would go for a punishment.
Throughout the day he consistently ignored your begging to use the restroom. Instead refilling the glass with each complaint you gave him.
It wasn’t until five glasses in that you realized he wasn’t just messing around, he wanted to see you suffer immensely.
When Ada arrived home, she has voiced concern that you might be ill. Playing it off, you mentioned that your sleep cycle had been inconsistent, relying on the blatant lie of being drowsy and irritable while Tommy simply smirked in the corner, attempting not to laugh as he sipped his tea.
“Well, perhaps a movie will help you sleep.” Nodding, Ada removed her coat, recalling that history movies were a dull interest to you, and ran outside to get the post to see what would be playing on the television tonight.
Once she was out of sight, Tommy abruptly appeared behind your back, purposefully pulling you back against him, arms squeezing tightly around your lower abdomen.
Whining, your head fell back against his chest as his hand glided beneath your skirt, rubbing your aching heat.
This wasn’t fair, he didn’t hold Ada to these standards even though she was older. She’s never had a “curfew”, why should you be any different?
“How’s my little lamb holding in there? Gonna piss yourself right here in the kitchen?” The water slowly dripping from the sink faucet has your eyes drawn in as Tommy continued to massage your mound, the rain pattering against the window outside.
The dripping sounds and the stimulation, causing your mind to spin in a million different directions.
“Such a sensitive little thing aren’t you? Just imagining the moment of releasing the flood gates, draining yourself, completely?” Tugging away from him once the door opened, Ada motioned that your brothers and Aunt Pol wouldn’t be back until tomorrow, but the good news was she had found a movie, only it was three hours.
After eating dinner, the living area was set up with blankets and pillows along with simple snacks.
You were currently seated in the middle of the sofa, Tommy beside you of course while Ada was in the recliner to the side.
As a obnoxiously loud scene came on, you took the time to address your brother.
“Tommy, please! I’m going to burst at the seams!” You pleaded, and begged to him, wishing to just dispel the extreme un comfort of your bladder holding the max capacity of piss. 
He simply chuckled, shaking his head in disapproval, enjoying how desperate you sounded.
Your eyebrows creased together when his hand guided toward your lower abdomen underneath the blanket, pressing firmly onto the bloated, hardened skin, causing you to squeam in slight pain and discomfort of his actions.
Glancing around the room, Ada was still awake fully indulged in the movie.
Shit, you were going to have to play normal for longer than you already have.
Shivering Ada stood up from her seat, complaining of how cold it was in the house even with the fire lit.
When she mentioned hot chocolate, Tommy’s eyes lit up with mischief and pure diabolical intentions.
“Y’know Y/N was just complaining of the same thing, do you mind making us one too?” 
Oh how you wanted to smack him in the back of his demented head, and rush to the toilet.
Every other minute Tommy was shifting, in his seat. How long was this movie? You wouldn’t be surprised had he picked on nearly three hours. But you could play this game better.
As the film continued on about an hour later Tommy’s eyes were becoming heavy, his slight minuscule snores just barely audible.
Taking the opportunity at large, you were careful standing up from the sofa, hesitant not to wake him before walking off toward the upstairs bathroom. Only thing was this was an old house with creaking floors. The night time shade made it hard to see where you were stepping, and then it happened.
The first creak and Tommy was awakened, turning his head to catch you red handed.
Glancing over, Ada was asleep and luckly for him she was a heavy sleeper.
Terror seeped over your eyes as Tommy stood from the catch, walking over and grabbing your arm, forcing you to his room.
“Did you think I wouldn’t hear?” Barging through the door, you shed one another of your clothes, eventually, falling down onto the mattress. Tommy towered over your aching body, noticing how bloaded your bladder appeared, and how hard your nipples were even in the warm air.
You couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment from the fact that being degraded and controlled in such a way turned you on.
Pressing firmly down onto your skin, he smirked watching you squeal and squirm beneath him in desperation, while his hardened cock slid in an up and down motion between your moist folds.
“Tommy I- I can’t. Please let me go first!” He shook his head, plunging his length in your heated flower. The over filling sensation, causing extreme discomfort with a hint of pleasure.
“Maybe you should learn to listen to your big brother every now and then eh?” Your lips parted agape when he began to drill into your body, the head of his cock feeling like it was hitting your bladder with each thrust.
Surely he didn’t expect you to hold your piss through this.
“I-I’m sorry, I promise I’ll be home on time from now on.” His hands grasped at your boobs, feeling them bounce with each rhythmic thrust.
It was almost pathetic how soaked you were, how your pussy clung to his long length in desperation.
When he flipped you over onto your stomach, that was when the inevitable was about to happen.
“Tommy-Tommy I’m gonna- I can’t-“
“You can release now love.” As soon as he gave you permission, all of the piss inside your aching bladder pooled out onto the sheets around his cock. The relieving sensation was almost too satisfying to recognize the humiliating situation that didn’t seem to phase Tommy at all as he continued to fuck you relentlessly. The piss warming his cock like a popsicle melting from the hot sun on a warm summer day.
The white sheets now stained yellow beneath your sex, your cheeks burning red in embarrassment.
It wasn’t long until Tommy released his seed inside of your dripping hole, the overwhelming heat of your pussy and piss sending a tidal wave of pleasure through his veins as his toes curled with one last strong, powerful thrust as he rode out his orgasm.
“So tell me? Did you learn something useful today?”
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lives-in-midgard · 9 months
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My Soulmate
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: After years of not knowing your soulmate you finally find him.
Word Count: 1.232
A/N: Hey everyone! This has been in my drafts for a while now and this is my first time writing for a soulmate AU, so I hope you like it!
Masterlist
In the world you live, people believe in soulmates, not only do they believe in soulmates. They are real! Because when you are in the same room as your soulmate you get a tattoo with his or her initials on your wrist. Some people get them when they are 5 years, some when they are 13 years, some with 18 and then there is you who still hasn’t gotten yours. Every day you see people with their soulmate being happy and your friends ask you so often if you have one but you always have to shake your head and say no. After so many years of hoping that you’ll find yours, you started to think that maybe you don’t have one. Or maybe your soulmate lives in another country or died. Or maybe your soulmate wouldn’t like you? Everything is possible you thought. So many different scenarios were going through your head at some days. But what you didn’t know was that you’ll meet your soulmate very soon.
It started as a normal day. Before work you drove to your favorite coffee shop to pick up a coffee to go and drive to work. You walked in and ordered your coffee.
“Like always?” The friendly worker asked, and you nodded. While you waited for your coffee, you looked around and saw a few familiar faces but also two guys with caps and glasses on you haven’t seen before. You didn’t know why but they looked like they didn’t want to get recognized. You took a closer look at the blonde one and he kinda looked familiar, but you didn’t know why. Then you could see how the guy with the blonde hair showed the other one with brown hair something on his phone. Then you heard him laughing and wow he had a beautiful smile you thought.
“Your coffee is ready y/n.” You turned around and looked away from these two handsome men.
“Thank you.” You said with a smile and turned around. When you walked out you walked past the men, and the brown haired one smiled at you. You smiled back and said “Hi” to him. Then you walked out to your car. In your car you took a sip from your coffee and then started to drive away. While driving you somehow looked at your wrist and saw three initials on it.
“Oh my god.” You said to yourself and looked back at the street again. Then you looked for a parking lot and saw one near you. After you parked the car, you took a closer look of your tattoo.
J.B.B.
Who could that be? How long do you have it? It must have happened when you were in the coffee shop, right? But there were only people who were there often and who you knew. Wait! You took a deep breath. There were two guys that you saw for the first time. It had to be one of those guys! But who? And what is his name?
You couldn’t believe that you just really found your soulmate! But how can you see him again? Will you even ever see him again?
Your mind started to go crazy with so many questions going through your head. When you suddenly realized why you where there. You were about to drive to work. You looked at your clock and saw that you only have a few minutes left. You looked at the tattoo for the last time. And when you ran your finger over the initials a smile escaped you.
“J.B.B.” You whispered to yourself and smiled.
Your best friend from work immediately knew that something happened when she saw your smile. You showed her your wrist and told her that you think that it must be one of those guys you saw. She said that she will try to help you find him, but you only knew how he looked like and his initials. It’s nearly impossible to find him. But your friend assured you that you will find him.
The same time you found your tattoo was also the same time Bucky discovered his. He couldn’t believe what he saw. He thought he didn’t have one, especially after Hydra. Or that you lived back in the 40s and he couldn’t meet you because of what had happened. Bucky showed it to Steve, and he got so excited for his best friend because he knew how Bucky was feeling about it. For Bucky it was even harder to guess who you could be because he never went to that coffee shop before, and it could be anyone there. But somehow Bucky always had to think of you. He only saw you for a few seconds, but he remembered you with your beautiful smile and the shy little “hi” you said to him. Bucky went back to that coffee shop almost every day in the hope to find you there. You two always missed each other sometimes only for a few minutes. But Bucky didn’t give up.
Days and even weeks passed, and you didn’t see your soulmate again. But you didn’t lose hope that you will find him again. You walked into the coffee shop like almost every day and ordered your coffee. Then you went back to your car, you wanted to drive home after that hard day at work. You were about to open the car door when suddenly someone behind you shouted.
“Hey, I think you dropped something.” You heard and turned around. You couldn’t believe who you saw, it was the brown haired one, you saw weeks ago. The one who could be your soulmate. He was holding your bracelet in his hand.
“Oh, yes that’s mine. Thank you so much.” You said while he walked over to you.
“No problem.” He said and smiled at you.
“Oh, hey it’s you.” Bucky said with excitement when he got near you.
“You remember me?”
“Of course, I do. How could I forget that beautiful smile.” Bucky said and made you blush.
“Oh, your bracelet.” Bucky held out your bracelet.
“Would you put it on me, please.”
“Sure.” When Bucky put it on your wrist you noticed that his left arm was of a black metal. You didn’t have much time to think about that because then he started to introduce himself.
“I’m Bucky Barnes.” Wait? Bucky Barnes? You must have heard of him before.
“Do…you maybe have a second name too?” You nervously asked and he looked kinda confused why you wanted to know that.
“I have, but why-” Bucky got nervous, so you decided to tell him why.
“Because my name is Y/n l/n.” You said and then showed Bucky the tattoo on your wrist. He looked at the tattoo and then back to you. Then Bucky turned his right arm to you, and you saw your name on it.
“You are …. We are.” Bucky started to say.
“Soulmates.” You both said at the same time and chuckled. Then Bucky moved closer to you and tucked a hair behind your ear.
“I know this might be too soon, but you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.” Bucky said and looked into your eyes to see if you want that kiss too. You smiled at him and made the last step that was between the two of you.
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worksby-d · 2 years
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Pairing: dilf!Andy Barber x babysitter!Reader
Summary: Andy offers to drive you to a halloween party after babysitting for him, but you get distracted before you can get there.
Warnings: Age gap (Reader is in her 20s), Andy’s imaginary younger kid that I made up to make the plot work, car sex, blowjob, fingering, creampie, 18+
Word count: ~2,000
a/n: Changed this prompt to be for Andy at the last minute because I miss him soooo much 😣💕 I’m sorry to the Ari girlies. I’ll make it up to you, I promise 🫶
Part Two
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Skipping down the steps, you're in your own world as you quickly gather your jacket and shove the rest of your clothes into your bag, heading toward the kitchen to wait patiently for Andy and Jacob to get home.
Andy had texted you earlier today, asking a last minute favor of you to watch his youngest daughter while he and Jacob had a father-son evening. It wasn't like the Barbers to have not asked weeks in advance, but they're like a second family to you at this point, so you couldn't say no. But you do have plans to get to once those two are finally back.
Sending Andy a quick text, politely asking for an ETA since he wasn't sure before, you jump hearing his phone ding from just a couple feet away.
“Never mind,” you chuckle, walking into the room and seeing them both standing there already. “Sorry, I didn't hear you guys come in.”
“That's alright,” he laughs. If you aren't mistaken, you swear he does a double take after his eyes land on you. And you kind of hope that’s the case for a different reason, but he's probably just trying to decipher your costume. “We just got back. Figured you were putting the princess to bed, but maybe you were playing dress up..?”
“Oh, no,” you giggle. You know he's joking as he gestures to your outfit – a white skirt, white cropped tank top with thigh high tights, white heels, and a halo on your head to match. “I have a Halloween party to get to, so I was getting ready since she fell asleep early.”
“I didn't know you had plans tonight, I'm sorry–”
“No, it's okay.” You can’t let him apologize. He didn't force you to say yes. “I'm always happy to help out. I have a friend coming to pick me up though, so I'm just gonna hang out a while longer if that’s okay. This is kind of out of their way.”
“Well… Tell them they're off the hook.” Your confusion must be evident. “I can give you a ride,” he explains. “Yeah, Jacob’s here now, so I can leave for a bit, no problem.”
“You don't have to–”
“It's the least I can do.”
. * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹
It's a quiet ride at first. You spend the first couple minutes trying to come up with some small talk. You've always talked to his wife more than you have to him, so you're not coming up with much.
As if he can read your mind, he takes it upon himself to break the silence.
“Laurie and I separated.”
Is this his idea of small talk?
You have kind of been wondering though since it was Andy who contacted you for once and since she wasn't at the house when you got there. Plus, you wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but you noticed his missing wedding ring.
“Just felt like I owed you an explanation for the last minute need for a babysitter today. It's my weekend with the kids, but I didn't want to let Jake down, so…”
Glancing at him beside you, there's a sadness in his eyes–very clear as they're lit up under each street light you pass–and you wish there was something you could do for him.
You're not sure what to say honestly. Your initial reaction is scoffing an astonished, “her loss,” but you figure that's probably the wrong thing.
“Oh…” You let your solemn tone fill the quiet for a second. “I'm sorry to hear that.”
You don't leave it at that though, instead punctuating your words with a daring hand resting on his leg.
His heart races the same as yours at the contact – But while yours does so out of nerves awaiting his reaction, his is a result of not having felt such a gentle touch in so long.
As your touch lingers, he has to resist his impulse to drop a hand from the wheel and take yours in his.
For fear of misreading your movement, he just grips the steering wheel tighter, trying his best to not dwell on what’s probably nothing.
You watch as he shifts slightly in his seat, gauging his reaction to your subtle advance. When he doesn't pull completely away or ask what you're doing, you assume you're in the clear.
Seeing how far he'll let you go, you slowly move your hand higher up his leg, gently brushing your fingers along his inner thigh.
He's trying to keep his composure, but you hear the hitch in his breathing as your touch gets closer to where he's secretly wishing it would go.
In an instant, he’s slowing the car down, and you smirk to yourself as he veers to pull over on the side of the road.
It's a dark one, nearly silent save the rustling of what's left for leaves on the trees as a few gusts of wind blow by.
He lets out a deep sigh when you take your hand away from him, finally looking toward you to search for any signs that he's gotten the wrong idea. But you're unbuckling your seat belt and leaning over to undo his too.
“You look so sad,” you whisper. “I can make you feel better.”
Your eyes meet his as you move closer to him–as close as the center console separating you will allow anyway.
“Yeah?” His voice is low as he watches you kneel on your seat, putting a hand back on his leg to hold yourself up.
“Uh-huh,” you hum, putting an end to his anticipation as your hand slides over the crotch of his jeans, palming against his cock. “If it's okay with you…”
His head falls back against his seat, a groan escaping his lips, when your fingers work to undo his belt and move his pants out of the way, ghosting over his hard dick.
“Go ahead and show me, pretty girl.”
He moves his seat farther back so you can comfortably take up the space between himself and the wheel. You can't contain yourself, eagerly replacing your hand with your mouth, taking as much of him as you can before softly gagging.
“Oh, fuck.” A breath gets caught in his throat. One of his hands gathers any hair from falling on your face, while the other rests on your upper back to keep you down. “You're good at that.”
Lifting your head, you let out a small laugh before sinking your mouth back down on him. Hearing him pant above you, you can't help but squeeze your thighs together in attempt of some sort of relief, no room to slip your own hand between your legs.
Andy catches on though, his leather seat squeaking each time you squirm. His hand on your back glides down to your ass, finding that your skirt is conveniently short enough to just flip up and pull your thong aside.
Deft fingers expertly find your clit, already slick from your dripping arousal.
He tsks, “All this just from sucking my cock, babygirl?”
Your whimper quickly turns into a moan as he pushes a finger into your sopping pussy, legs already trembling from the sudden intrusion.
“You're a sensitive one,” he chuckles.
You have to come up for air for a second, resting your cheek against his body while your hand takes over, slowly stroking his hard cock.
“Andy–” Your voice trails off, all words forgotten as he continues thrusting a second finger into you.
“Keep going, angel. I've got you.”
Taking him back in your mouth, nothing but lewd noises fill the car. An involuntary thrust of his hips makes you gag again.
With tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you have to push off of him for a breath again. And as tempting as it is for him to fill your pretty mouth, he doesn't force you back down this time.
He pulls his hand from between your legs, eliciting a whine from you as he kindly smoothes your skirt back into place.
You have to sit up slowly, but once you're steady, you swiftly clamber into his lap, straddling your legs on either side of his.
“Woah, eager,” he teases, putting his hands on your hips to support you. He has to reach up to remove the halo from your head though so it doesn't get ruined pressed against the roof of the car. “I usually take my time with people I like.”
Attempting to ignore the heat that flushes across your face following his words, you let out a shy laugh. He can't help but notice how breathtaking you look – the glittery makeup on your eyelids and cheeks reflecting the bright moonlight peeking into the dark vehicle.
“My friends will wonder where I am.”
“So…” He smirks. “Another time then?”
“Another time,” you nod, breathless again as you lift up and begin sinking down on his cock.
“Shit–”
“Andy–”
You sigh in unison.
Feeling a breeze across your damp forehead, you’re reminded of the windows you kept cracked for air. You drop your face to his neck to muffle your moans, afraid of being too loud.
It doesn't take long for you both to teeter on the edge of your highs after working each other up. He can feel your legs quivering against his own as you continue to ride him.
“Can feel you're close,” he grunts, gripping your hips to help you move.
You cry out, quickly grazing your teeth against his neck to quiet yourself as he fucks you deeper, clit bumping against his pelvis each time you come down.
“Fuck, sweetheart. Give it to me. I wanna feel you cum.”
He's got you in the palm of his hand at this point, you'd do anything for him. Your orgasm washes over you as an intense heat flooding your body. It leaves you trembling in his arms, biting down where his neck meets his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming his name.
“That’s it,” he breathes, working you through it as he chases his own release now. “Good girl. ‘m right there with you. Gonna leave you full of me for the–for the rest of the night.” He stumbles over his words. “No one will suspect a thing from the girl dressed like an a–angel.”
“Please,” you choke out, wanting, needing, to feel him. “Andy–”
Your pleas are cut off by a low growl in your ear and his arms tightening around you to keep you still as his cock twitches, release spilling deep inside you.
Letting out a shuddering breath, your body goes lax against him. The rise and fall of his chest as he works to steady his breathing is the only thing you can feel for a few moments.
“You with me, Y/N?” He chuckles, albeit still a little out of breath, as he checks on you.
“I think so,” you laugh and let out a sigh before finally lifting yourself off of him.
You instantly feel his cum dripping out of you, but he's a man who sticks to his word–quick to push it back in with two fingers before adjusting your panties back into place.
Your cheeks burn and you avert your eyes from his, whimpering at the obscene act. But your eyes fall on his neck, littered with evident bite marks outlined by your shimmery lip gloss.
“There's glitter everywhere,” you giggle, bringing your thumb up to try to wipe some off of his skin and his t-shirt. “I'm sorry.”
“Hey, don't worry about it.” He shrugs, but tries to get some that's misplaced off your face too though. “Let's get you to that party, sweetheart.”
. * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹
Tag list: @chris-butt @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @princess-evans-addict @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @bluemusickid @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21
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ckneal · 13 days
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I can’t stop thinking about how EmoAdrien’s efforts to befriend Nino in his world must have gone.
Because the Marinette from his world was bewildered at the thought of him recognizing her civilian identity when she detransformed in front of him, implying that they do not know each other from school in their world, and that this version of Adrien is probably still getting home schooled around his modeling career. He has probably not received the already miniscule amount of socialization that our main universe Adrien received, and while he knows who Nino is, he only knows him as his masked persona. Not as a civilian.
There are only so many options open to him! He could start showing up in places he knows Nino frequents in a similar fashion to how Chat Noir tends to just show up at Marinette’s house, hoping that whatever good word Betterfly put in for him is enough to keep Nino from running away on sight. Or, alternatively, EmoAdrien is going to have to just cruise around Paris in the backseat of his limo until he happens to spot Nino on the street somewhere. At which point, the most awkward conversation is bound to happen, because again, this Adrien has no friends! He’s just a wanna-be-edgy supermodel who only talks to people when they’re going about their paid jobs that just so happen to put them in his vicinity. His great opener to the conversation after jumping out of his limo and running up to Nino is probably going to be “HI! Uh. . .how are you?”
While Nino is just gawkily looking between Adrien and a ten foot version of Adrien’s face pictured next to a bottle of perfume on some nearby billboard.
Then, with a dozen different alarm bells in his head letting him know that he is getting more cringe by the second, this poor little guy is going to panic and say something about how they should see a movie some time, hastily looking around for a piece of paper that isn’t there, before scrawling his number on Nino’s arm and shouting “Call me!”
And as Adrien’s limo drives off, Alya, who we know is still dating Nino in this universe, is going to walk out of a nearby shop and ask Nino why he looks so startled.
And Nino’s going to say, “Babe. . .I think Adrien Agreste just asked me out.”
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takotakigum · 6 months
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after hours 1 — michael kaiser.
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characters: michael kaiser x gn!reader
warnings: fluff, if you squint there’s the slightest mature theme here, word vomit, kaiser is in love, and this is a two-part post (this is part 1).
word count: 800
synopsis: headcanons of michael kaiser, a motorcyclist who wants more of you.
note: the nickname/callsign “liebling” means “darling”.
aged up characters | please read at your own risk! | part 2 — soon
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biker!kaiser who loves to impress you. he’ll ride by your streets, making sure to make his engine extra noisy for you to hear through your windows—and he won’t stop until he’s received a message from you saying you’ve seen him breeze through outside your home for more than three times already.
biker!kaiser who fantasizes about you more than ever. after his usual races and rides with ness, he’ll come home feeling unsatisfied because of the lack of company—or rather—you. which drives kaiser crazy; how he’s only thinking about your weight pressing on him from behind, how your arms would probably hold onto his torso and waist so tightly, and how your chin would make its way to hide on his shoulder because of fear. or perhaps you wouldn’t be afraid? kaiser also thinks of the possibilities of your free laughter echoing through his helmet rather than the harsh winds from the speed. would you still hold his body close? would your hands be the ones resting on his shoulder? kaiser can’t find it in him to stop thinking about how you could act—which leaves him wanting more, needing everything to be known.
biker!kaiser who now has to ruin his pride and beg for you to go on a ride with him. more often than not, kaiser feels as though the back of his bike feels too light, too empty, and too cold: which is why this time, late at night, he shows up on your doorstep with his heavy helmet on one hand and a bouquet on the other. a pout dedicated to stay on his lips as his breath is a bit heaving, yet nonetheless is able to flaunt about the beautiful roses he’s gotten for you until you let him inside your home. and sooner or later, he’s flaunting about his precious motorbike, luring you into going on that sweet ride with him.
biker!kaiser who almost has his jaw on the floor when you agree to go on a ride with him. immediately, he disregards the bouquet and grabs your wrist, pulling you out the doorstep of your home before dragging you to where his motorbike awaits. the previous pout is long gone, instead, replaced with a smirk he dares not even hide from the late night’s winds.
biker!kaiser who—to your surprise and his excitement’s shock—ensures your comfort and safety is a must. you only now realize that he’s always brought along with him a spare helmet, and it’s all for you. his heavy hands help you get up his motorbike, lifting you up just enough by the waist to have you properly seated on his bike. and when he’s the one seated in front of you, he encourages you to hold onto him anywhere; be it his chest, torso, shoulders—anywhere, as long as that’s where you want to grab onto—is fine. kaiser, knowing it’s your first time riding with anyone at all, assures you that he’ll take it slow and not go over any speed limits this time. only this time, though. as the next with him will be a different situation, of course.
biker!kaiser whose heart beats a little bit faster and harder when he finally does hear your short gasps, tightening grip, and excited laughter near his heating ear; but true and real this time. it’s the cutest thing he’s experienced, and he’s not sure how much longer he can take. because with each heightened speed of his motorbike, your reaction is uncertain—and it’s all the best for him. even though no one can see his shit-eating grin through his helmet, kaiser still proudly shows it on his face, childishly hoping you catch him and poke fun at him for it.
biker!kaiser who gets a little bit too clingy when he feels sad that nothing lasts forever, and that your first ride with him has to have an end. sluggishly, after kaiser gets off his motorbike, he tells you to stay put, and he takes off the tight helmet off your head. taking his time, he combs through your disoriented hair as your flushed cheeks gets pampered by his rough knuckles. he’ll tell you how pretty you are, and how you exceeded his expectations of how your nervousness would hold out—all he would say to let the night last longer, all he would say to admire your pretty face stare right back at him like he’s the only man who motorbikes in the world.
biker!kaiser who hopes for another ride with you. when he can’t deny the look of your eyes drooping more than they should, he’ll comb through your hair once more, his face getting closer until you’re almost forced to lean back on nothing: your hands reaching back in support of your weight before kaiser drags his fingers on your back—playing with your loose night shirt’s fabric as his mouth whispers right below your ear: “next time, when we go for another ride; wear something nice for me, liebling. doesn’t that sound exciting?”
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© takotakigum | do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works.
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niqhtlord01 · 9 months
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Humans are weird: Depression
Alien: Can you explain something to me?
Human: Sure.
Alien: What is depression?
Human: *Stops to ponder question*
Human: I think I can explain, but you must follow me somewhere.
*Pair walk the streets of a dark city*
*Human stops in front of a window and shines a light at it*
Human: What do you see?
Alien: *Looks upon an intricate work of stained glasses depicting some form of human religious scene*
Alien: The work of a master craftsman whose beauty outshines their time.
Human: Wow; wasn’t expecting a deep and meaningful answer.
Human: I would have accepted “a work of art” or “beautiful glass” as an answer.
Alien: How does this help explain what depression is?
Human: Watch.
*Human turns off the light*
Human: Look at the window again.
Alien: *Looks up at the window*
*Where once there was beauty now there was a haunting image*
*Gone were the bright colors and shapes, and what remained were abstract shapes that blurred together in the darkness*
Alien: I see….sadness.
Human: Exactly.
Human: Depression is the creeping darkness in the corners of our minds.
Human: Always present, always waiting for a moment to swallow us whole and leave us shadows of our former selves.
Alien: But that can’t be.
Alien: When the light was showing things were beautiful, there were no shadows.
Human: No?
*Turns light back on again*
Human: What do you see; and look carefully this time.
Alien: *Looks a second time but is confused*
*Things appear the same as first time he shun a light on the window. Only after expanding his gaze did he notice what the human was implying*
Alien: The light is surrounded by shadow…..
Human: Exactly.
Human: Think of the light as our internal happiness.
Human: Even when we feel happy and carefree just as the window appears in the light, the shadows of depression can still exist just at the edge of our being.
Alien: *Looks at the flashlight*
Alien: The light will eventually die, so does that mean your people will always succumb to depression?
Human: Some people do.
Human: Sometimes the light just goes out and never comes back.
Human: Other times they do find the light but it is flickering so they spend the rest of their lives trying to find it again.
Human: Everyone is different with how they handle their own depression.
Alien: Are you depressed?
Human: *Shrugs* I’ve had my bad days; when the weight of the world felt like it was driving the air from my lungs.
Alien: You seem well rounded, so I take it you found your light?
Human: The trick is to not rely on external light, but to find the one inside of you.
Human: That way you’ll never be in the dark.
Alien: Is that even possible?
*Pair of them turn to see a new light coming from inside the building*
*Someone inside had lit a candle and placed it under the stained glass*
Human: Nothing’s impossible.
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familyvideostevie · 8 months
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october third
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day three: bradley "rooster" bradshaw you go to a tailgate with your friend bradley | friends to lovers | 1.5k
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You don’t even like football that much. But here you are waiting on your front steps with a cooler of drinks and seven layer dip for Bradley to pick you up to drive to LA for a football game.
“We don’t do this often,” Hangman had told you last week when you were all at the bar. “But my boys are in town, so it’s practically law that we go.”
“Cowboys,” Bradley had whispered in your ear before you swatted him away.
“So we’re driving up to LA to watch?”
Everyone nodded solemnly. Until Natasha cracked. “To get drunk at the tailgate and then watch them get crushed!”
Bradley had offered to drive you the day of the game. Most of the group went up last night to meet up with some old Navy friends, but since you’re relatively new to the whole group you opted out of that one. You know Bob the best, actually, and then Natasha through him but you and Rooster get along surprisingly well and he lives pretty close to you.
It doesn’t hurt that he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.
He pulls up in his silly Bronco and honks once even though he sees you sitting on the steps. “Morning!” He hops out of the car and jogs over. You stand and he gives you a quick hug and a grin. “I’ve got breakfast in the car, if you’re hungry.”
Knowing Bradley, he’s probably been up since 4am. He’s always full of energy that you’ve learned is just a part of his personality. He’s practically vibrating all the time, dialed up to 11 when he’s in public especially. It’s a little overwhelming but you find it endearing.
“Thank you,” you tell him. He grabs your cooler and secures it in the car as you hop in to find coffee and a breakfast sandwich from the place down the street waiting for you. “And thanks for driving.”
He waves off your thanks. “Thank you for coming,” he says, heading for the highway. “I was worried this would scare you off.”
“It’s just football, Bradley.” He shrugs.
“Just be glad it’s not the Army Navy game.”
As he drives he tells you about some rowdier tailgates he went to in college. You swap stories of fall shenanigans from your youth — a high school football game here and there, though fall where you grew up is definetly colder than California in October.
“That reminds me,” Bradley says, snapping his fingers. “I’ve got a jersey for you. Chargers, obviously.” He’s in one, too, the material hanging off his broad shoulders. You know from your glance at him when he picked you up that his jeans fit achingly perfectly. You don’t have any sports stuff of your own, so you’d opted for a yellow top. “Hangman is going to get you into a Cowboys one when we get there, but don’t be swayed.”
“Of course not,” you say. He grins and you smile back.
The two hours to LA fly by even when you hit typical traffic. Spending time with Bradley is easy, even when your mind thrums with what you’ve deemed your low-level crush on him. He flirts with everyone, sure, but sometimes it feels like he flirts with you differently.
You get to the stadium and right away you can see that it’s a crowded, rowdy kind of situation. Rooster must see the trepidation on your face when you ask who else will be there.
“Navy buddies, probably. Friends of Hangman’s from Texas who are in town for the game. I don’t know a ton of them, but I know it’ll be fun.” He puts his hand on your arm. “Stick with me if you want,” he says. “You can always stick with me.”
“Okay,” you say softly. He winks at you.
The parking lot you’re in is a bit of a walk from the tailgating spot, so you put on your borrowed jersey and unload the car.
Cooler in one hand, Rooster reaches his other towards you. “So you don’t get converted by any Cowboys fans?” You laugh. As if he has to ask you to hold his hand.
So you do. His palm is warm and calloused and he leads you fearlessly through the throng until you find your friends at the spot they staked out. There are at least two grills going, a table of snacks, and lots and lots of beer.
“C’mon, really?” Hangman shouts when you come into view. “He got to you?” His face is painted blue in some spots.
“You should’ve driven me, then!”
Hangman smirks. “As if this guy would’ve let me.” You look at Rooster and his neck is flushed even as he rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, and you release him to put the stuff you brought on the table.
It surprises you a little that you’re having fun. There are lots of people you don’t know but Rooster sticks close to you, hand on your shoulder blade or lower back when he asks if you’re hungry, if you want a drink, if you’re cold. Everyone you meet is thrilled that you’re here and you forget that this is a football tailgate you drove over two hours to and not just a party with your friends.
You’re in a circle of girls talking about a new book a few of you have read when you feel Rooster come up behind you. You recognize the heat of him by now. His hand lands on the small of your back, and he leans down to speak in your ear.
“A few of us are going to make a run for some more drinks and water. I’ll be back soon. You okay?” You lean away from him a little so you can see his face before nodding. He leaves you with a squeeze of your hip and you turn back to the circle to find all of the girls watching you.
“Do I have something on my face?” you ask.
“Okay,” one of them says. You are pretty sure her name is Flora. “How did you train him?”
“What?”
“Your boyfriend,” another one chimes in. “He’s like, all over you in the best way.”
Oh. Oh. “Bradley?” you say, voice a little higher than you’d like. You swallow and shift on your feet a bit. “We’re just friends.”
Everyone in the circle titters. “Sure, you are,” they coo. “Heard that before.” You scrunch your nose and shake your head.
The girl next to you puts her hand on your arm. “Honey,” she says kindly. “That man is into you. He’s scared off every guy coming over here.”
“I—” You start but find you have nothing to say. They take pity on you and move on to something else but your thoughts stay with their comments. Sure, you’ve been flirting and sure, today he’s been extra touchy but that’s just because you don’t know lots of people here, right? So what if he texts you pictures of dogs and things he sees and says reminded me of you. So what if he knows your coffee order and fixes things in your apartment when you ask and calls you when he’s driving back from base. So what if he treats you like his girlfriend.
He hasn’t said anything.
Flora leans over. “Sometimes, these Navy boys, they’re all confident on the outside but really they just don’t want to screw it up so they wait and wait and wait.” She looks over your shoulder and wiggles her eyebrows at you. You turn around and find Bradley walking towards you again.
“Ladies,” he says.
“Hi, Rooster,” they echo.
He focuses on you, hand on your elbow to pull you from the circle a little bit. “You okay?” You nod. “Game is gonna start in a little bit so I think we’re going to head in.” His hand moves up your arm to your clavicle as his fingers seemingly fix your necklace. You keep your eyes on his face and watch him concentrate.
“Bradley?”
“Yeah?” He’s still fixated on the task at hand. Everyone around you is starting to clean up and migrate towards the stadium.
“Do you want to go on a date?” His fingers freeze. You worry for a second that you’ve got it all wrong, that he’s not into making this unspoken thing spoken, that he’s about to let you down easy. But you watch his pupils dilate, feel his hand move so that it’s cupping your neck, watch his surprised expression turn to something happy, something luminous.
“Really?” he says. Maybe the girls were right — maybe these muscled, loudmouthed, sporty Navy guys really don’t know what they’re doing any more than the rest of you. None of the other guys in the group flirt with you like Bradley does, none of them drive you around and make you laugh and you don’t want to kiss any of them the way you want to kiss him.
You nod. “Yeah,” you say.
“Sweetheart,” he says. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”
��Okay.”
“Okay,” he echoes. You kiss him on the cheek and wrap an arm around his waist.
“Football time, Bradley.” He shakes himself out of your moment and slings an arm around your shoulders as you walk back to your friends who are clearly pretending they weren’t watching.
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thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23
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juvenillia · 8 months
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I saw your requests are kinda open so I wanted to ask if you'd share your thoughts about the love language of the task force 141? (Maybe add Konig because I want to see you write more about him)
hello anon and a huge thank you for my first request, I hope you like it, also keep requesting stuff, i love that aaah🤍
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Love Language [headcanon]
Words of affirmation – physical touch – gifts – acts of service – quality time
a/n: Little brain rot in general I believe that everyone shows love very differently and therefore I think that everyone has all the love languages in them, some are just more distinct than others. I for example love to give gifts and quality time, but I am all over acts of service and physical touch (especially biting. If you are loved by me, you must manage the that I start to randomly bite you. I don’t make the rules.) But let’s talk about our men, I do believe all love quality time, especially due their jobs that drags them away from you so many times. But let’s dive into some detail. Feel free to discuss in the comments.
Charachters: Soap, Price, Ghost, Gaz, König
》 Masterpost 《
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Johnny – Physical touch, will not argue about that. This man needs to be glued onto you even with the teeny tiniest spots of skin connected. You walk down the street; he has his arm around your shoulder. You sit in a pub with friends, his knee leaning against yours. You’re doing the dishes, hands slung around your waist. Driving, hand on your thigh. Even when you had an argument and turn around in bed to give him the cold shoulder, his foot will kind of touch you somewhere. Only the slightest not to push your mood even more, but he can’t stand to be separated from you. Deployment is already hard, but when you’re back together he’s all over you and will not stop until you make him. He respects your boundaries, especially in the public, but if you let him, he will do everything from the sweetest pecks to the filthiest strokes along your skin, no matter where and no matter who is around you. Plus, I believe that this Scot is a damn flirt. Words of affirmation is a go to, never fails to make you blush, and as soon as he takes notice of that he’s gonna push it further. Loves to make you all flustered and as soon as your face is burning like a volcano, he will pull you in and stroke your back, peppering you with quick kisses. Loves to praise you and compliments you and just showing off with his bonnie lass. Always makes sure everyone knows that you belong to him and still will flirt with you, like he wants to hook up with you all over again. Imagine him going to the bathroom while you’re out with friends and comes back later just to pretend he doesn’t know you to flirt and compliment you like a madman.
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Price – To be very clear, this man is the perfect impersonator of all five love languages. He would never hesitate to reassure you about his love, compliment you in the cheesiest way, calling you all the petnames he can find, and his favorite is definitive and simply “mine” or even “Mrs. Price”, no matter if married or not.  He will always make sure that you are relaxed, so he definitely takes care of things around the house when he’s back from deployment. Making breakfast before you wake up, let’s be honest he will always be earlier up than you. Even if it’s really hard for him to leave the bed when you’re curled up in his side. Anytime he must go somewhere, no matter how far away or how long, he will bring you flowers when he returns. He goes for his morning run; he’s picking up some casual flowers at the way back. He comes back from a long deployment; he’s having a big ass bouquet waiting for you. When they have some time after missions staying in god knows what city, he will always buy a little thing as souvenir for you. Quality time and physical touch are for him one and the same. You’re sitting on the couch watching your favorite show, he will be instantly next to you and pulling you ins his lap. This man simply combines all of them in the most romantical and at the same time casual way possible. Everything if just easy going for him because he adores and values so much, he needs to show you in every way possible.
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Ghost – My man, my beautiful, beautiful man is completely down for quality time and now mix that with acts of service. You’re curled up in an armchair reading your latest book, he’s on the couch next to you scrolling through his phone after he prepared you both your favorite cuppa. You sit outside on the patio, watching the clouds, he’s next to you smoking. You only have a thirty-minute break at work? He’s already waiting at the entry to the building, a bag with your favorite food and coffee in hand to keep you company. You complain about the errands you must run after work? Consider it done already. He wants to be at your service all the time, just say what you want, and he takes care of it. Also, if he can take care of all those things beforehand, there is much more time he can spend with you without things that annoy you.  Plus, he can read you like an open book. He is trained to read people, to observe and learn and with you it’s even easier. He wants to learn everything about you, just to be able to take care of everything that could cause you discomfort and prevent anything that let the smile he loves so much falter. So, he started very early to investigate your habits, triggers and pet peeves. You frown in a very specific way; he knows you already getting headaches because you didn’t drink enough. You sigh in a mumbling manner; he knows you need some cuddles. And don’t get me wrong, Simon does not, and I repeat he doesn’t despise physical touch. He just needs a lot of time to trust someone fully to let someone – you – come that close and if you’re patient with him, he will warm up and let you do all the things you want to. Physical touch is just not the way he would show you how much you mean to him (like all the time).
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Kyle – He is an old-fashioned lover boy, so of course it’s words of affirmation. He loves to tell you how you make him feel, no matter what situation. Thanking you for choosing him, for making his life so much livelier. Complimenting you in such a smooth way, it never fails to make your heart jump. Just like Johnny I do believe he can be hell of a flirt, but somehow more reserved and subliminal. Praising and teasing you at the same time, whispering in your ears how beautiful you look and how grateful he is to call you his. He completely submitted to you and loves to do things for you. So, I’d also add acts of service. He loves to help you out. As soon as he’s the second day home again, he doesn’t let you lift a finger. The first day is reserved for cuddles and other intimate stuff. Always at your side, making sure you don’t have to anything but relax and enjoy his company. He likes to take you out, showering you in all the affection he holds for you. Opening doors for your, walking on the side of the sidewalk that’s closer to the street, relacing your shoes, carrying you over a puddle. You want ice-cream and waffles in the middle of the night? He’s driving god knows how long to get his girl happy.
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König – Gifts, definitive gifts. He loves to spoil you. You’re looking at something in the store, and can’t decide between two colors, he’ll buy the one you didn’t get. You randomly mention that you saw that pretty necklace some time ago, it’s already in his cart. No matter what you want, or need, he’ll provide you with everything. Money isn’t important to him, but your happiness is. You casually mention you’d like to live in a house in a specific place or city. He’s already browsing to find the perfect house for your future. But it’s not about the big things all the time. Little things do the job as well, he thinks you might enjoy. Even if he finds a shiny rock that just looks pretty, he’ll bring it home to you. He wants to provide for your future, that you can just lean back and live a careless life. And shower him with your love. Therefore, I need to add physical touch to his top priorities. His hands all always all over you. He can be a cocky asshole, but in a lovely manner. Always teasing you with his words, making cocky jokes, but his hand on your cheek, his arm around your waist reassuring you that all he’s saying is meant in a loving way. Showing affection is never hard when he’s with you, always placing his head onto yours, a hand on your shoulder. Always having you close in for him like the best reassurance that you’re true with him. That you do love him and much more, that he can hold onto you. His hands gripping your hips and always pulling you close to him. Nearly scared to lose you at any point. Maybe a bit possessive, but in an adorable way.
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sylvestris123 · 9 months
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How Aziraphale and Crowley deal with stress
[Sorry, no gifs, this is my first Tumblr post and I don't know how to drive it yet]
There are big differences in the ways that Crowley and Aziraphale deal with unwanted feelings and stressful situations. They have both witnessed and sometimes had to participate in a number of horrible and traumatic situations over the millennia, and they’ve both had to develop coping mechanisms so as not to end up suffering the occult/ethereal equivalent of PTSD.
(N.B. these are not necessarily healthy coping mechanisms, though).
Crowley (to me) is a bottler. He experiences big emotions and then shuts them away deep inside.
(It’s the equivalent of when you find that you have visitors imminent and you haven’t tidied up the house. Sweep everything into a cupboard and shut the door on it. All clear, nothing to see here).
We see this most heartbreakingly in the final 15 of S2E6 when, having poured out his heart to Aziraphale and not got through, he puts his sunglasses back on and speaks in a totally different, flat calm tone.
This method of managing big feelings doesn’t always work. Sometimes the cupboard door gives way and spills everything out. Then you get shouting or thunderbolts and lightning in the street. Aziraphale gets to see it quite a lot (probably because he’s frequently the cause or catalyst), and then he gets slammed against a wall or a Crowley right up in his face. Judging by his reaction when this happens in both S1 and S2, the times we see it are not the only ones, as he’s singularly not bothered by it.
Aziraphale is an avoider. His coping mechanisms are more akin to tiptoeing across a minefield. There are warning signs (“Danger”; “Here be dragons”; Keep out”) and we just Don’t Go There.
(In the house metaphor this would be like there being whole areas of the house that are off limits).
What this means for Aziraphale is that there are great swathes of subjects that he can’t think properly about, and he ends up circling around in smaller and smaller regions of his own head.
When this goes wrong I think that he suffers quite an existential crisis (going back to the increasingly overworked house metaphor, it would be akin to going in to a room and thinking “What is this place? Where am I? I don’t recognise any of this…”). We see this in S2E2 (A companion to Owls) when he believes that he must now be a demon having lied to the other angels.
In the whole of Season 2 they are both pretty stressed (from even before the Jim situation). But we only see it indirectly, with Crowley being on a very short fuse and Aziraphale retreating more and more into a fantasy world.
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