#he would love to convince you otherwise but don’t believe him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wildwestdean · 4 months

Text

transposition

summary: a spell goes wrong and ends up with you and sam switching bodies. neither of you tell dean, which ends up being the greatest decision you ever made

pairing: dean winchester x witch!reader; best friend!sam winchester x witch!reader (platonic, obvs)

word count: 6.3k+

warnings: swearing, mentions of magic use, misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst, secrets, accidental love confessions, awkward idiots, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, cliches, minor use of [y/n], (female pronouns/descriptors used)

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sam grunted under his breath, continuing to powder the contents of your mortar with more force than necessary. “If Dean finds out about this-”

“Dean asked me to do this,” you defended, eyes skimming over the page in front of you before looking up at him. “Okay, maybe not verbatim, but he asked!” you added upon seeing the look on Sam’s face.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he did,” he replied sarcastically, slamming the pestle down with enough force to make you flinch.

“Would you be fucking careful!” you hissed, glaring at him. “That thing isn’t indestructible and it’s important to me, it was a gift-”

“From Dean,” he finished for you. “I know. Sorry,” he added, and even though his tone was sincere, you just knew he rolled his eyes anyway; and you chucked the closest thing you could grab at his back in retaliation.

“Dick,” you muttered, going back to reading the passage before you.

It wasn’t often that you used your powers - more so when it came down to a last resort option - and when Dean first discovered that you had magic, it wasn’t intentional. The two of you were on a hunt together, and it was - of course - not going to plan. You were on the brink of consciousness, having no choice but to watch defenselessly as Dean became outnumbered by Vamps. The spell came out of nowhere, nothing more than a primal instinct to protect him, and before anyone knew what was happening, the two of you were left alone with nothing but piles of ash where the monsters once stood. Dean first thought that Rowena had somehow stumbled upon them to save the day once more, though once he realized the spell came from you, he damn near lost his mind. You would have rather he yelled at you, smashed things around, anything compared to what he did. Once he made sure you were okay and had you checked out, he simply acted as if you didn’t exist; you were completely frozen out of his life. He never needed to say anything, you could see it in his eyes every time he glanced at you: How could you be a witch? He hated witches, and you knew that- it’s half the reason you never told him in the first place. He only started coming around with Sam’s convincing- and even then, it took an incredibly long time for him to trust you again. Then, one day, he came to realize that no matter what happened, he could never hate you. So, he came to you with an open mind and a peace offering- the exact mortar and pestle you had once told Sam that you wanted, because it reminded you of your mother’s- and the two of you worked on putting the pieces of your friendship back together.

“Ass,” Sam retorted, turning and walking over to you with the freshly crushed ingredients.

“You know,” you started, taking it from his hands. “You can’t really be against this all that much, otherwise you wouldn’t be here helping.”

“I’m only here so you don’t get yourself killed.”

“Oh, come on,” you urged with a chuckle. “You love doing this, and you know it.”

He gave you a sarcastic smile before taking the book from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine,” you huffed, snatching the book right back.

With one final glare at each other, you started the spell. Everything was going well… until it wasn’t.

You aren’t exactly sure where it went wrong. You don’t know if it was the ingredients, the way you said the spell, or just a mixture of everything, but before you even knew what was happening the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow and sent both you and Sam flying.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “What the fuck?” you wondered aloud, feeling strange beyond comprehension.

“What the hell happened?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I don’t know. Something feels wrong,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized why you felt so different. “Sam?” you asked meekly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up. “Wait-”

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; were they even your hands?

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; your body?

“You’re me!” you exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you.

“You’re me!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, using the wall behind you to help you stand. “God, how do you live like this?”

“Me? What about you? I won’t even be able to reach the upper cabinets in the kitchen!” he countered, flailing his arms around.

“At least you’ll be able to fit on your bed! My feet are gonna dangle!” you huffed, folding your arms over yourself.

“You need to fix this,” Sam declared, stepping towards you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps away- this was way too weird. You’ve seen shifters take your image before, but this was actually you. Only it wasn’t you. You felt like your head was about to explode.

“Gee, you think, Sam?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “I thought we’d just stay like this forever!”

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. You both flinched, turning to see Dean peering into the room.

“What the fuck’s with all the yelling?” he asked, glancing around. “The hell is going on?”

“I- uh-” you tried to answer, but nothing came to mind.

“Just, uh…. experimenting,” Sam supplied, and you sent him a glare.

“Experimenting?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at you- or rather, at whom he thought was you.

“Yeah,” Sam said with a shrug, not sure what else to say. The two of you shared a look, silently agreeing not to breathe a word of what was really going on.

Dean’s face softened, and he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually doing that spell. Sweetheart, we can get by without it.”

“We don’t-” you started to argue, before Sam interrupted you with a clearing of his throat.

Right. Dean wasn’t exactly talking to you right now.

“Thought it was a good opportunity to practice,” Sam replied, sounding more like he was asking than telling.

“Right,” Dean said, eyeing your body wearily.

Oh, god. He was gonna pick up on something being wrong, it was only a matter of time.

“You can leave any time now,” you spoke up, more irritated than you meant to sound, but you were severely on edge.

Dean turned to you with a look of surprise. “‘Scuse me?”

“I just- you know, we’re in the middle of something,” you continued, doing your best to stand your ground.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he quipped, taking a step towards you. “What the hell were you thinking? Why are you letting her mess around with this stuff? Better yet, why are you helping her mess around with this stuff?”

“It’s just a simple spell,” you argued, your head swirling with the fact that you were looking down on him, instead of being dwarfed by his frame like you normally would be.

“A simple spell?” he repeated, fury and irritation dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

“Last I checked we could make our own decisions, Dean!” you exclaimed, glaring at him.

“Sure,” he placated with a nod. “So long as they’re not stupid ass decisions!”

“Can we go ten minutes in this place without a fight happening?” Sam pitched in, already exasperated with the situation.

“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, glaring at you. “Food’s ready.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sam announced, earning a glare from you in return.

“Don’t you think we should finish-” you tried to ask, but were quickly cut off by Dean.

“No, you guys are done in here,” he declared, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

“Dean-” you tried once more, only to be cut off again.

“Sam,” Dean warned. “I’m not kidding. Whatever you two were doing, it’s done.”

“Fine. We’ll be out in a few minutes,” you relented, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “We need to clean up!” you added upon seeing the look on Dean’s face.

“Five minutes,” Dean agreed pointedly. “Or I swear, I’ll drag both your asses out of this room.”

“Yeah, five minutes, got it,” you huffed, watching him as he hesitantly left the room.

You waited a few moments before hastily making your way over and all but slamming the door, turning to look at Sam with wide eyes.

“We are so screwed,” he declared, matching your expression.

“What are we supposed to do? He’s gonna figure out something’s wrong!” you exclaimed, slumping against the door behind you.

“We just…. I don’t know, pretend?” Sam suggested with a shrug.

“Pretend?” you repeated incredulously. “Sam, this is insane! We can’t just pretend to be each other!”

“It’s not like I meant permanently!” he defended, holding out his hands in surrender. “But until we can find a way to fix this, we have to at least play the part in front of Dean.”

“Fine,” you agreed with a huff. “But I am not going on your crack of dawn jogs.”

“Oh, come on-” he started to argue, though quickly stopped when met with your glare. “Yeah, okay, that- that’s fine.”

“Great. Now let’s go before Dean gets even more pissy,” you declared, opening the door with a flourish.

With a quick nod, he followed you down the hall, the two of you lowly bickering about the situation all the way to the kitchen.

“I feel like a baby giraffe with this fucking body.”

“You look like a baby giraffe, do you not know how to walk?”

“Yeah, I know how to walk! I know how to walk with normal legs!”

“Normal? You’re short enough to get in anywhere with a child’s pass!”

“Keep up with the attitude, Sam. Maybe I’ll go have a really nice salon visit and cut all this hair!”

“Fine, then maybe I’ll call up that guy from your ‘worst date ever’ and ask to catch up!”

“Fine by me. You’ll be the one he’ll be groping and hitting on the whole time.”

“Yeah- well-... look, just don’t cut my hair!”

“What are you two all hush hush about?” Dean asked curiously, eyeing you both as you entered the kitchen.

“Nothing,” you both quickly replied, taking a seat at the table.

Dean stared at you both for a moment before nodding curtly. “If you say so.”

Choosing not to reply, you both quietly watched as he joined the table, taking his regular seat next to you. Which, of course, meant he was currently next to Sam, and you watched in amusement as he shifted nervously while Dean got too close for his comfort.

Attempting to stifle a laugh, you took a bite of the burger that was placed in front of you, only to grimace in response. “What is this?” you asked through a mouthful, meeting Dean’s confused gaze.

“It’s… the same veggie burger you force me to make you every time I make burgers?” he replied, looking at you as though you lost your head.

Fucking Sam, you thought bitterly. “Oh, right. Right, it just- it tastes different, I don’t know,” you stammered, sparing a quick glance across at Sam as you hurriedly took another bite.

“You two are weirder than usual tonight,” Dean muttered to himself before eating his own food.

The three of you ate in stifling silence, you and Sam both internally trying to find a way out of this mess, before Dean spoke up again and pulled you from your revere.

“[Y/N], do you want just the usual from the store? I was gonna make a run before our movie night,” he said, turning to look beside him with a soft grin.

You felt your stomach drop as Sam cleared his throat, looking between you and Dean for a moment. “Movie night?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. “Like we have every Friday?”

“Oh, right!” Sam exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t realize what day it is, I, uh- I’m actually not… feeling too hot, do you mind if we skip it tonight?”

“You wanna skip it?” Dean asked quietly, making your heart shatter as you watched the hurt and disappointment flash across his face.

After the two of you made up from your falling out, you started a tradition of spending extra quality time together at least once a week. This resulted in having a movie night every Friday, no matter what. Whether that meant catching a random movie on a motel tv or settling into the Dean Cave, you both always found a way to make it. Knowing you had no choice but to skip out this time almost made you want to tell him what happened right then and there; but you didn’t.

“Yeah, I just… I think it’s best if I just head to bed, you know? I’d hate for it to get worse,” Sam said sheepishly, playing with the glass in front of him as he met Dean’s gaze halfheartedly.

You were glad that if you had to mistakenly swap bodies with someone, it was Sam. Given that he became your best friend from just about the moment you met, he had your behaviour down pat; you just hoped you could do the same and make this all a little easier.

“Well what do you mean, what’s wrong?” Dean asked worriedly.

“I’m just feeling run down is all,” Sam said, shrugging lightly as he stood up, taking his dishes to the sink. “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow,” he added, turning back to Dean with a shy smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Dean agreed softly, averting his gaze to the beer in his hands. “Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.”

“Sure. Uh, goodnight, guys,” Sam replied awkwardly, shooting you a pointed look before leaving.

You stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, studying Dean as he pouted at his bottle.

“You alright?” you asked tentatively.

“Yeah, just… first time she’s bailed on me,” he replied indifferently, downing the rest of his beer before heading to get another one.

“She didn’t bail on you,” you argued firmly. “It’s not like she chose to go bar hopping or something, she’s sick.”

“Didn’t seem so sick when she was huddled up with you,” Dean said curtly, leaning against the counter as he sent you a cold stare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked confusedly, shifting in your seat to look at him better.

He remained silent, lips pursed as he studied you for what felt like hours, before he finally shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Then why say it?” you asked in irritation.

He remained silent once more, simply raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip before standing upright. “Night, Sammy.”

“Dean-” you tried to press, but he only ignored you as he continued across the floor, leaving the kitchen without saying another word.

You sighed in exasperation, quickly cleaning everything up before heading to your room, catching almost no sleep as you dove deep into researching for a reversal to your mistake.

“You need to shave,” Sam said, staring at you from across the table.

“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the declaration.

“Your beard - my beard. You need to shave it,” he clarified. “It’s been over a week.”

“And?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I doubt you’re taking care of all my housekeeping.”

“That’s because I’m doing everything possible to not look at you! Like you asked!” he hissed in return.

You rolled your eyes in response, returning your attention to the book in front of you. “I have more important things on my mind than shaving your stupid facial hair - which looks fine, by the way.”

Sam huffed, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well you can at least take five minutes for me!”

“I don’t even know how to shave a beard, Sam!” you argued, closing the book in exasperation.

“Then just let me shave it for you!” he begged, leaning over the table. “I’m serious, [Y/N], you can’t just leave me all unkempt.”

You met his gaze and sighed softly. “Damn, you can even pull off the puppy dog eyes with my face. That’s a talent, Sammy.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, for what felt like the first time since this whole thing happened. “You can do it better than I can,” he chuckled. “At least when it comes to Dean,” he added with a smirk.

“What does that mean?” you asked curiously.

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “C’mon, let’s get you- me- whatever, all taken care of before Dean gets back with dinner.”

“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed, getting up to follow him.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of him as he sat on the bathroom counter, because: “How else are we supposed to do this? These arms aren’t gonna reach that face comfortably without some help.”

You fell into a comfortable silence as he did what he needed to do, the only words spoken being his occasional nagging for you to quit moving, as you were both lost in your own thoughts about the last few days.

“I’m really sorry, Sammy,” you said suddenly. You weren’t sure whether your voice was so quiet due to the shame you felt, or for the fear of breaking the silence that surrounded you.

“It’s not your fault,” he said simply, reflexively.

You sighed, gently shaking your head; which earned another scolding glare from him as he steadied you. “It’s entirely my fault. I fucked up big time, and we both know it.”

“Look, it was an accident,” he urged, wiping away the remnants of the shave one last time. “Assigning blame isn’t going to change anything.”

“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be furious! I practically ruined your life,” you pressed on frantically.

“Okay, that’s being dramatic,” he chided. “Yeah, this isn't an ideal situation. Though weirdly, it’s also not the weirdest situation I’ve been in. And you know what? It’s not even the first time I’ve been in this situation! Remember when that kid switched bodies with me? Trust me, you’re a much better person to be switched with.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you said, chuckling softly. “Still, I’m really sorry.”

“I know you are,” he said softly. “I also know you’ll find a way to fix this.”

“You really believe that?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “‘Cause it’s you, and I’ll always have faith in you. You didn’t mean for this to happen, [Y/N]. It’s okay.”

“No, it-” you started to argue, but he cut you off.

“Stop,” he urged softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Maybe I was at first, but I’m not anymore.”

“Promise?” you asked meekly.

“I promise,” he said firmly.

“Okay,” you relented, not fully believing him but not wanting to push the topic any further.

“Okay,” he repeated, gently wiping away one of your stray tears.

“Maybe we should just tell Dean,” you suggested hesitantly.

“Tell me what?” Dean’s voice suddenly cut through the room.

The two of you jumped, and you moved away from the counter as calmly as you could, knowing how the predicament you were in must look to him.

You turned to the doorway and came face to face with Dean staring intently at the two of you, his mind working into an overdrive as he tried to make sense of the scene he just walked in on.

“Dean, I- when did you get back?” you asked nervously.

“Tell me what?” he asked again, ignoring your question.

You and Sam were both at a loss. You spent so much time trying to figure this whole thing out, yet neither of you thought to come up with some kind of story should you be cornered like this.

“[Y/N]?” Dean asked softly, looking over to where he thought you sat on the counter.

The look of hurt and confusion that flashed over his face and the waver in his voice all but sent a fresh wave of tears washing over you.

Dean waited impatiently a few moments before shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever, food’s in the kitchen.”

Before anyone could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you and Sam stunned in his wake.

The dynamic between the three of you began shifting even more ever since that night, and you could feel Dean slipping further and further away from you with each passing day.

You noticed it every time Dean would catch you and Sam huddled up and whispering low; when he would stand and stare before leaving with a quiet grumble of forgetting why he was there.

You noticed it when he started spending more time in his room or tinkering with Baby in the garage; finding any and every excuse possible to spend time outside of the bunker and away from you and Sam.

You and Sam tried to ignore it, promised yourselves that you’d explain everything once you managed to set things right - or, if you discovered you were over your heads and couldn’t fix everything.

The thing you hated most about this whole thing was that it was becoming easier and easier to lie to Dean; and the worst part about that was not knowing whether you and Sam really became more convincing, or if Dean just didn’t care enough to question you anymore.

Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting in the war room, waiting for Dean to make his way through to the kitchen, in order to try and talk things out.

You weren’t expecting him to appear with one duffle bag over his shoulder and another by his side - and he wasn’t expecting to see you, either.

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he declared after a moment of hesitation, continuing on his path to the stairs.

“Where the hell are you going?” you asked hotly, standing from your seat.

Dean sighed, throwing his head back in frustration as he considered his response. “Donna’s cabin.”

“What? Why?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together with confusion.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he said tiredly. “I just can’t, okay?”

“Do what?” you asked wearily, taking a tentative step towards him. “What are you talking about, Dean?” you pressed, feeling your chest tighten with the rising nerves and fear.

“Don’t do that,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?”

“What-... what’s been going on?” you asked curiously. “The hell are you talking about?”

You weren’t sure if or when he figured out what happened, and you also weren’t sure why it would make him feel the need to leave.

“I’m talking about you and [Y/N]!” he shouted, throwing his bags down and stepping towards you.

“Me and [Y/N]?” you wondered, taking a nervous step backwards.

“I’m not an idiot, okay?” he spat, his jaw ticking. “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I couldn’t figure it out?”

“Okay, look,” you began, holding out your hands defensively. “I can explain.”

Dean let out a humourless laugh, running a hand over his mouth before glaring at you once more. “Explain,” he echoed with a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t waste your breath.”

“Why are you so pissed off about this?” you asked in bewilderment. “I mean, I know we kept it from you, but we figure it’d be easier for you.”

“Easier for me?” he repeated, voice raising. “What about this entire situation makes you think it’d be easy for me?”

“Well because it-... I mean it doesn’t really affect you, Dean,” you replied, unsure of your own words.

“It doesn’t affect me?” he repeated with perplexion. “Of course it affects me! You know how I feel about her!” he exclaimed, taking yet another step forward.

“What?” you questioned, thrown off by his response.

“Don’t “what” me,” he snapped. “I want to be happy for you, Sammy. I really do, but I just-... I don’t think I ever can be.”

“Okay, I-... I am so lost,” you admitted.

“You stole my girl, Sam!” Dean all but screamed. “You know that I love her. You know I was gonna tell her, and you know how much I want to spend whatever’s left of my god forsaken life with her! You swore you didn’t feel that way about her. You- I mean how to hell could you do this to me, Sammy? I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.”

You remained silent, staring at him in shock and confusion for what felt like hours. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a broken whisper of his name.

“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. Not like I can blame you for falling for her, right? I mean hey, I sure did,” he sassed, smiling sarcastically. “Not surprised she chose you, either. She deserves someone better than me. But I’m not sticking around anymore to see it first hand.”

You watched in stunned silence as he turned to gather his bags, trying and failing to think of anything to say. What the hell were you supposed to do? The man of your dreams just admitted he felt the exact same way, and you were trapped in his brother's body. Even if you told him the truth right now, would he even believe you?

“Do me one favour, though,” Dean said from the foot of the stairs, effectively pulling you from your thoughts. “Don’t tell [Y/N]. Don’t tell her anything. I’ll think of something to tell her during the drive and call her tomorrow.”

“Dean-” you finally began to protest, only to go unheard by him as he started up the steps.

“Later, Sammy,” he announced with finality, disappearing out of the bunker.

“You have got to be kidding me. I mean honestly woman, how stupid can you be?” Rowena’s voice rang through the war room as she made her arrival known to you and Sam.

“Did you not get in enough insults over the phone?” you asked in exasperation, not bothering to move from your spot in the library as you watched her approach.

“I don’t think there are enough insults for this situation, dear,” she said sweetly, smiling innocently.

“Either be helpful or leave, Rowena,” you replied solemnly.

It had been three days since Dean left, and over two weeks since the whole debacle happened. You had never been more determined to find a solution, nor had you ever felt more defeated.

“Alright, fine. No need to be cranky,” Rowena tsked, taking a seat across from you. “Go on, then. Walk me through everything.”

“Fine,” you sighed, steadying yourself before recounting the situation.

“Let me get this straight,” Rowena declared, holding a hand up. “You actually let him leave? After what he said?”

“Is that seriously your only take away from this?” you asked angrily, glaring at her.

“It’s not my only take away, but it’s certainly a big one,” she said calmly, accompanied by a half shrug. “This is the spell you used?” she asked, looking over the book you gave her during your explanation.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” you confirmed sheepishly.

“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll have you and Samuel right as rain in no time, dear,” she comforted, eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.

It took another four days, but ‘No time’ finally came. You were practically itching to get this all over and done with as the three of you finished setting everything up. You didn’t even care about being in your own skin again, all you cared about at this point was getting Dean back in your life. He did everything possible to avoid talking to you or Sam each time either of you tried contacting him, and you were missing him more and more with each passing hour.

“That should do it,” Rowena declared, snapping you back to attention. “You know what you need to do?”

“Yes,” you said quickly, urging her out of the room; the last thing you needed was for her to be around and have the spell go wrong again, resulting in all three of you being scrambled around.

“Don’t rush it!” she cautioned. “I know you want him back, but you need to take this slowly. You can’t afford another screw up!”

Her statement made you pause, and you knew she was right. “Go slow, I got it,” you confirmed, shutting her out of the room.

“Ready?” Sam asked, looking at you eagerly; albeit nervous beyond belief.

“More than ever,” you declared, taking your place at the altar.

You began the spell, doing everything slowly and precisely so there was no room for error. Once you had finished, however, nothing had happened. You were just about ready to scream with all the emotions boiling inside of you when suddenly the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow, sending both you and Sam flying.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “This again?” you wondered aloud.

“Did it even work?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I think so,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized what happened. “Sam?” you asked breathlessly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up himself. “Wait-”

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; your own hands.

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; his very own body.

“You’re you!” you exclaimed in glee, pointing at him.

“You’re you!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, taking a moment to steady yourself on your own feet. “I need to go,” you announced, not giving him time to reply before you ran out of the room.

“You’re welcome!” Rowena called after you, watching you run by.

“Thank you!” you called back absently, hurrying out to your car.

The drive took longer than ever before; at least, it felt like it did. You spent the whole time trying to think of what to say, of how to explain, but nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed like enough. All you could hope for was that everything would magically come to you once you stood before him.

If he ever decided to open the goddamn door.

“Dammit, Dean! Open the fucking door before I break it down!” you yelled, banging your hand against the wood for the upteenth time.

You opened your mouth to yell once more, but before you could even make a sound a voice boomed out from behind you. “What are you doing here?”

You turned with a start, coming face to face with Dean as he stood at the bottom of the steps. “I came to talk to you,” you said simply, taking a few steps forward.

He quickly averted his gaze, focusing on wiping the grease from his hands with the rag he held. “Coulda just called,” he countered gruffly.

“Why?” you asked, laughing dryly. “You’d just ignore my calls.”

He stilled his ministrations for a moment before shrugging, glancing back up at you. “Maybe ‘cause we got nothing to talk about.”

“Dean-” you tried to argue, though you stopped short when he rolled his eyes and turned away from you.

“Look, I know all about you and Sam, okay?” he huffed, storming across the drive and to where Baby was parked, hood still open for Dean to continue working on her.

“Oh, for god’s sake, Dean. There is no me and Sam!” you exclaimed with a groan, quickly following behind him.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he placated, picking up his previously abandoned ratchet.

“Just listen to me,” you pleaded, watching his face scrunch with a mix of frustration and concentration as he dove back into his work.

“You don’t need to explain,” he said distractedly. “I get it. He’s good for you. I just-... you didn’t need to hide it, [Y/N/N]. I thought we were closer than that.”

“We are! That’s not what we were hiding, just let me explain!” you said desperately, stepping closer to him.

“You can quit the act, okay?” he snapped, stopping what he was doing as he stood up, finally turning to look at you. “I have eyes, I saw what-”

“Sam and I fucking switched bodies!” you yelled over him, effectively rendering him speechless. “Alright? When you walked in on us doing that spell the other week… it went wrong, Dean. Sam and I, we just-... we switched!”

“You… switched bodies?” he asked slowly, scepticism starting to present itself on his face as he processed what you said.

“Yes,” you confirmed softly. ”I was Sam, Sam was me.”

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he anxiously tapped his fingers on Baby’s exterior. “Well, isn’t that just a great story,” he muttered, leaning under the hood once more.

“It’s not a story,” you argued desperately. “It’s what happened.”

“Then why not tell me?” he challenged, not missing a beat.

“Because,” you began lamely. “You always have so much on your plate, Dean. We didn’t want to shove this stupid thing on you and add to your worries.”

“So you lied to me for my own good?” he asked harshly, gaze not straying from his hands as he worked.

“We didn’t lie, we just-”

“Avoided the truth,” he finished for you. “Same thing, if you ask me.”

“We thought it was for the best,” you admitted quietly.

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically, throwing his tools down. “Sneaking around, icing me out. Definitely for my best interest, huh?”

“Dean, please,” you pleaded. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“Then why did you come, [Y/N]?” he shouted, shutting Baby’s hood. “What did you think was gonna happen here?”

“Well, I thought-... I just-... I wanted to clear the air,” you stammered. “I wanted to explain.”

“Well, you explained,” he muttered, busying himself with tidying his mess.

You watched him silently for a few moments, trying to think of your next move. You decided to ask the question that’s been on your mind since he left: “Were you really planning on actually telling me one day?”

He let out an irritated sigh, picking up his belongings and moving around to the trunk. “What are you talking about?”

“Were you really gonna tell me?” you repeated, quickly taking a few steps to meet him at the trunk.

“Tell you what?” he huffed, irritation oozing off of him as he slammed the toolbox down.

“How you feel!” you blurted out, taking yet another step towards him.

“The hell are you talking about?” he questioned, feigning cluelessness. Though the way his body stiffened as he idly messed with the stuff in the trunk betrayed him; he knew what you meant.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you replied softly. “Were you?”

“I don’t know!” he huffed, shutting the trunk. “Maybe,” he added, walking away from you once more.

“You said-”

“I know what I said!” he interrupted, clearly irritated. “Can we not relive it? I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Well I do!” you argued, exasperated. “Why the fuck else do you think I’m here, Dean?”

“To clear the air,” he sneered, repeating your earlier words as he made his way back to the cabin.

“To tell you I love you!” you shouted after him, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t choose Sam. How can I choose him when I’ve loved you for years? How can I choose him when my entire world stopped spinning the day you shut me out of your life all those years ago? How can I choose him when I didn’t feel like I could breathe until you finally spoke to me again? How can I choose him, when having to watch you walk away the other day was the most terrifying thing I had to do, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get you back this time? You can put us in any timeline, in any universe, or in any realm, and I will always choose you. I love you.”

You were met with silence for entirely too long, and you watched the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he kept his back to you, standing tense as ever with his head down low.

“Will you just look at me, please?” you pleaded shakily.

As soon as the words left your mouth he spun on his heel and marched towards you, closing the distance between you two in seconds. He grabbed your face in his hands, letting a moment of hesitation pass by before crashing his lips against yours. It was harsh yet delicate, slow but needy. It was gentle and all consuming. His hands strayed from your face, one sweeping to the back of your head to hold you steady while the other slipped to your waist and pulled you close. Your hands found themselves gliding up his arms, resting on the base of his neck for a moment before settling on his cheeks.

When the two of you finally pulled away to catch your breath, it seemed like neither of you wanted to go too far; foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as you both giggled quietly, shy smiles on your swollen lips.

You stood like that for a few minutes, basking in each other's presence in ways you never could before, until your gentle whisper cut through the silence: “Please come home, Dean.”

“My sweet girl,” he said quietly, planting a delicate kiss to your forehead before completely wrapping you up in his arms, holding you closer than ever. “I am home.”

tagging: @winharry

dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika

2K notes · View notes

celesteleoves · 1 month

Note

hello! could you please do an izuku fluff one shot where he loves to sleep with reader in her dorm? i use she/her pronouns but gender neutral would be fine aswell if you’d prefer💓

“I LOOK BETTER IN THE DARK.”

IZUKU MIDORIYA x fem!reader.

summary: what the request said!

warnings: reader and izuku have known each other since middle school, izuku being traumatized 😔, set before the second war!fluff otherwise i believe! kinda angsty for a minute.

a/n: guys… i miss him. he’s so sweet pls don’t hurt him anymore horikoshi. also ily anon ty for requesting this omg. pls send more 🤍

—

it wasn’t uncommon for your boyfriend to randomly show up at your dorm. normally, he would arrive approximately ten minutes after texting you that he was going to try to take a nap.

but, you knew your boyfriend and you knew he would arrive with his hair tussled and eyes wide and disappointed – from not being able to sleep on his own. you were used to izuku knocking on your dorm room at random hours, you’ve even grown accustomed to this routine.

currently, you’re sat by your door. playing with your matching all might keychain that izuku got you for your birthday when you were young.

knock, smack! knock.

you smiled at the noise, you made that knocking pattern up after one time while trying to knock on your door barely awake, izuku fell asleep and smacked his head off of your door.

you stood up, rushing to your door. a soft smile already on your face.

“hi. i-” izuku tried to defend himself, yet again, he forgets that you are used to this.

“you couldn’t sleep, i know.” you softly nodded and motioned for him to come in.

he smiled crookedly as he rubbed the back of his head, trudging toward your bed and flopping on it.

it was late, around 9 pm, the moonlight replacing the suns glare.

you stood by the door for a minute, admiring your boyfriend.

he laid with one of his hands behind his head lazily, the other hand playing with your all might keychain. he looked so cute. his lips were turned upwards at the sight of the keychain.

the moonlight made his freckles pop, his dark-green hair looking more abnormally fluffier than usual.

you moved towards your boyfriend, plopping down beside him and lifting the covers over you two.

“i think i look better in the dark.” izuku mumbled quietly as he noticed your staring, he turned to look at you.

you grinned, “you always look good, izu.” you softly whispered as he became flustered. the boy curled up against you as he moved to rest his head on your chest.

tuffs of hair tickled your chin, causing you to giggle slightly as you played with his shirt. he wore a shirt that you gifted him at the start of the year, to celebrate him getting into U.A. with you.

“what happened to napping in your own room today?” you teased, not noticing your boyfriend moving his hand so it was closer to yours.

“i had a nightmare.”

your teasing smile dropped, you should’ve known. izuku’s been having terrors constantly after the first war. it was miracle when you and your classmates had even convinced him to come back to U.A. and rest.

“sorry, they just don’t happen when i’m with you.” he said quietly after noticing your silence, his words slightly muffled into your chest as you kissed his head.

“i’m glad they don’t.” you looked down, noticing his hand beside yours, he has been awkwardly fiddling with the sheets this whole time. he was scared to hold your hand. he didn’t want to hurt you.

you softly sighed, interlocking your fingers with his. you knew he felt safe when people held his hands. izuku began drifting into a slumber, the feeling of you holding his hand comforting him.

“i love you.”

you looked down at him, expecting him to reply only to see his eyes shut, mouth opened slightly as he slept. you felt your own eyes close as you basked in the feeling of holding your lover.

izuku midoriya is one of the strongest people on earth right now but when he’s with you, he’s just your izuku. just a kid who deserves a break from society and a well rested sleep.

a/n: my baby. THIS WAS A LITTLE OFF TRACK and very short, i’m sorry anon i got a little carried away 😔😔 i hope you enjoyed this! 🫶

SEND REQUESTS! 🤍

974 notes · View notes

casualhedonists · 4 months

Text

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter five)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder) , MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, roughhousing, eventual piv, one chapter specific dubcon scene (pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 5/6

words: um. 9.5k (sorry? but also you're welcome??)

chapter warnings: this chapter contains a scene that falls solidly into dubcon territory, so please proceed with caution, stay safe out there.

moodboards

series masterlist

a/n: WELL. here we are, almost at the end of our little rollercoaster ride. i've lost brain cells over this chapter, almost cut it up into smaller chunks, but ended up leaving it as long as i originally planned (longer, in fact. whoops). as always, feedback is very welcome + encouraged (i love hearing/reading your thoughts as things progress) buckle up, please do take note of the dubcon warning, prepare for the angst, and most importantly, enjoy!

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

He was back to ignoring you again.

But this time, the feeling was mutual. You’d never felt as thoroughly rejected as you did the night he had you walk back to your room, legs weak, wrapped in nothing but his shirt.

Once upon a time, this scenario would have been one you dreamed of, but reality often falls flat on its face. You wouldn’t have dreamt of walking away from him like this if you’d known it would feel this empty.

Humiliation ran rampant through your body, starting with the tears you blinked away as you left his room, closing the door behind you, and then flooding over as you stepped into your own room, slumping on the bed, curling up into yourself and weeping, pressing your still aching legs together but too upset to finish yourself off.

You kicked yourself for getting carried away, for getting too loud, too possessive with his face between your thighs and your hand in his hair. For getting so caught up in the moment, briefly forgetting your games, and for believing even for a second that you would be on the same page.

This push and pull had begun to wear you thin, and you were tired. So, you slept. Until nearly midday the next morning, when Lucille knocked on your door to remind you it was time for your monthly PR debrief.

The good news, though arguable at this point, was that your arrangement hadn’t been affected by recent events. At least, not on paper. Cordelia ran you through each gala, public appearance, and dinner, barely noticing your preoccupation, rambling on about speeches, coordinating outfits, dates and times of events, what to say and how to say it.

For you - and you could only imagine, Coriolanus too - everything had changed over the span of a month.

Your shame made you abnormally quiet, head hung low, gaze averted, nodding along as Cordelia prompted either a response or approval from you. Snow just stared, glancing at her only when completely necessary, but otherwise, he didn’t take his eyes off you.

He was enjoying this. The sick fuck. You were glad when the meeting ended and you could scamper into the library, eager to lose yourself in a story of any kind other than the one you were living.

This went on. By day, you barely looked at him; by night, you tried over and over to prove that your own fingers were enough to keep you satisfied. To convince yourself that you just wanted him, you didn’t need him.

Because if you needed him, then he called the shots. He would win. And victorious as he may seem, the game wasn’t over yet. You’d slipped up in a moment of vulnerability, he’d tricked you into a corner just to prove his point.

You wanted him, you didn’t need him. But if you did… well.

He was going to have to need you more.

You held back this time. Keeping your cards safe, close to your chest. In a strange way, you found a kind of solace in your arrangement. Recent events had caused it to feel unstable, breakable even, but the meeting had ensured that it was all still on the right track. It allowed you to take a small piece of what you wanted from him without guilt or repercussions. After all, it was planned out to benefit you both. Then, when you were ready, and with a gentle hand, you began to weaponise it, loading it up in the barrel of a gun aimed directly at Snow.

You didn't have much left, but you had this. You knew where your promiscuity had led you. This time, you wanted to pull on his heart strings. Make him feel remorse, or whatever similar emotion he was capable of. Make him soften to you. Torture him with almosts that were never enough.

So when you took, you took cautiously, tentatively. You deepened your usually light kisses to what was just past socially acceptable, only to pull back when Snow began to lean in, turning away and smiling at the people surrounding you, or full-on entering into conversation with somebody else. You'd brush your thumb against his when you held hands, waiting for him to look at you, drawing your hand away when he did. You'd offer smiles to everyone but him, talk and laugh a little louder when you could feel him watching.

You pretended he didn’t exist. You could feel him begin to simmer. It wasn't as brazen as your usual game, but it was working.

Until it wasn’t.

“Something’s wrong, what is it?”

Lucille’s face dropped, her shaking hands lowering from the zip she was struggling with. You were getting ready for a luncheon, and you’d picked out an emerald green dress, one of your favorites for daytime events.

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t notice, ma’am. I apologise. It’s my brother, he… it’s getting worse again.”

“Sit down for a second. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You listened to Lucille open up uncomfortably, visibly nervous that you would offer your financial support as you’d done before. But you didn’t, sparing her from having to turn you down.

Lucille was stubborn - she would never accept your charity. She was more than happy to work for her wages, and frequently worked longer hours. As months went by, you’d brought her pay up as high as you could without her noticing. But now things were getting more critical, and you knew there was only one thing you could do.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Go and see your brother.”

“But you’re not dressed-”

“I’ll take care of it. Go home, Lucille. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She smiled softly.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

You’d tried with the zip, you really had. You didn’t want to have to knock on Snow’s office door with two favors to ask instead of one, but the dress was tight and the zip kept getting jammed. So, there you stood, dress half undone at the back, heart in your throat. You counted your blessings; at least it wasn’t his bedroom. You didn’t think you could face him at all in there. You heard typing from inside.

“Come in.”

You pushed the door open, feeling like an intruder.

“Sorry, I just… Could you help me with this?” Your hand tightened behind your back, holding the dress together.

He narrowed his eyes. He was already in his suit, typewriter on the desk in front of him.

“Lucille forget how to do her job?”

“I don’t need snide right now. Please, Coriolanus? I’ll explain when I’m not half naked. It’s drafty in here.”

You tried to make it clear in your tone that this wasn’t some ploy. You weren’t sure you had many of those left to offer.

“Fine.” He sighed, and stood, making no motion towards you, so you crossed the room, gripping onto the fabric, turning your back to him.

His hand came to rest on your waist as the other took the zipper, and you tried not to flinch at his touch. You pressed your lips together as he carefully zipped you up, cold metal sending a chill down your spine. Or maybe that was just him. You felt your eyes slide shut and your lips part as his hand lingered on your waist. You couldn’t hear anything but your heartbeat and the tick of his grandfather clock.

“Is that okay? Not too tight?” His breath on your neck gave you goosebumps, you hoped desperately that he wouldn’t notice.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

The second his hand fell from your waist, you missed it. You carefully met his eye; he was looking at you like you had something he wanted.

So why hadn’t he wanted you? You’d been right there, and he’d turned you down.

He cleared his throat.

“I should finish this letter before we leave. Was there anything else?”

You paused.

“Actually, there is. Could I ask you a favor?” You glanced off to the side, suddenly very interested in the knots of wood on his desk. What helped was that you'd never seen inside this room before, and you hid behind your curiosity like it was a lifeline.

“What is it?”

“It’s…” you lowered your voice, “it’s about Lucille. Her brother, actually. He’s in the hospital again. The family can’t afford the medical bills to keep him in for as long as he needs. I’d like to foot the bill, but I can’t do it anonymously. I thought… well, I was wondering if you could pull a few strings.”

You were overexplaining, something you weren’t at all used to doing, but these days, just being in the same room as him made you nervous. You stared at his desk, at the lack of photographs on it, the single pen laying to the side, the smoothness of the glaze.

It was quiet for a moment.

“Consider it done.”

You looked up.

“Really?”

“Did you think I’d say no?” He asked.

“I- no, but…”

“It’s something that matters to you.”

You blinked, dumbfounded at how simply he put it.

“Yes. It is. Thank you, Coriolanus.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll make sure it’s anonymous.”

“Thank you. Or, I mean…”

He looked at you, and you wanted to melt. Wanted to throw strategy out the window, god, but -

You couldn’t. It hadn’t worked last time. You’d hoped to avoid a stalemate, but here you were, sat right in the middle of one.

“The car’s coming in a half hour. Are you almost ready?” He asked.

“Yes. Almost.”

The luncheon was going well, at first. You were at the head of a large table, sat beside Snow, straightening your salad fork as he stood up to make a speech. You’d been glancing at him throughout the afternoon; it wasn’t so hard to anymore. It felt like his willingness to help Lucille without question, just because it was what you wanted, had more of an effect on you in five minutes than the entire week of your teasing had on him. One conversation, and the tides had changed.

As he began talking, you started to realise that your gentler approach may have been affecting you more than it had him. The party was transfixed; people loved to hear him talk, and you were proud. He had a certain way with words; you knew better than anyone. You’d fallen victim to them.

You weren’t sure why his words affected you – you’d been there, you’d agreed when Cordelia had suggested he say something nice about you in this particular speech, really make the crowd swoon, lay it on thick - but when he started to talk about you, about how proud he was to have you by his side, how strong you were-

You knew he was just reciting a script written for him, but you couldn’t help it. The tears began to quietly fall. You thanked whatever higher being was listening for not letting anyone notice.

Or so you thought.

It was just typical that out of all the people that could’ve noticed, the one person who knew better was the only one who did.

The rest of them would’ve brushed it off as you simply being moved by emotion, honored by his kind words. You blinked away your tears, taking small, polite sips of your wine. It was painful because you knew it wasn’t true. None of it was, you knew he could never say those words and mean them.

And he knew that too.

It was dark when you got home, and you trailed behind him awkwardly on your way upstairs.

“Can I have a word?” his voice was gentle, and it set you on edge.

“Sure.”

You stood awkwardly in the hallway, then he led you into the office. He leaned against his desk, and you shifted your feet where you stood, eyes on the floor, on the art on the walls, on anything other than him.

“You were upset today.” He started.

You swallowed.

“It won’t happen again, I promise.” you kept your voice steady. He paused.

“If that was my fault, I apologise. If I took it too far, if I upset you-”

You weren’t sure which part he was talking about, but you finally looked at him in a sort of distant defiance.

“Do you even care if I’m upset?”

“Of course I do. Especially when it’s something that affects you… publicly.”

You huffed, forcing yourself to stare him down.

“Because that’s all that matters, right? What the public sees?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure it is. It’s okay, Snow. I’m a big girl. And I can take a hint, too. So don’t worry about me, I’ll be just fine. Business as usual, right?”

He just stared, puzzled. You took a breath.

“Look, it’s been a long day. Can I go, or are you going to keep me here all night?”

The silence was like smoke, clouding between you. His brow furrowed, calculating. Then he sighed, long and heavy, and you tried not to let it phase you.

“Fine. Go.”

You nodded.

“Goodnight.”

You’d never been more relieved to get away from him. Your broken walls were starting to build back up. You wouldn’t let him break you, you couldn’t. You were stronger than this.

That night, for the first time, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly what you wanted.

“Darling, you look ravishing.” Lilian drawled. “It’s a pity Snow is so far across the room, and can’t appreciate you. If I dressed half as nicely as you did, perhaps my dear husband wouldn’t be screwing the maid.”

A scandalised chorus of giggles erupted from the group. It was a pretty dress, one of your best. Long and smooth black fabric, ruched at the waist, with a deep cut up the leg that was just acceptable for an evening gala. You stood tall, champagne glass in hand, gossiping with your friends.

Well.

Friends was being generous. You kept few true friends, and they would hardly be gossiping in a circle like this.

Acquaintances was a better fit. Pawns if you were being brutally honest. Politicians’ wives, senators’ mistresses, a chancellor’s daughter or two. Pieces of chess, really, in this bigger game. Anyone who could help you climb higher, whisper carefully spun words into open ears at your whim.

“I just know George would rip that dress off me the moment I got home. He might not even be able to wait, and just pull me into a closet here instead.”

Another eruption of giggles.

“Well, I’m flattered, my darlings.” You smiled. “This is one of my favorites. Coriolanus treats me well.”

“I’m sure he does,” a suggestive glance from Lilian, “in all the ways one would expect, I assume?”

You gasped in mock modesty.

“Lilian,” you drawled, “I certainly hope you’re not suggesting I disclose our-”

“Oh, just tell us dear, please. We’re all dying to know. You’re always so coy about it. What’s he like?”

You pulled your lips into a knowing smile, your perfectly painted face helping you slide into this facade. You scanned your eyes across the ballroom, across to Snow. He stood talking to a group of men, colleagues of his. You recognised their faces.

It had been four days since the luncheon. Four days since your outburst. Four days of hiding away. You’d been dreading tonight’s gala, but it gave you an excuse to dress nicely, and as soon as you’d arrived, you and Coriolanus has gone your separate ways.

“Well,” you hummed, masking your uncertainty as anticipation, “he can be a slight tease.”

A few dramatic gasps sounded through the group, and you turned back to face them, their eyes wide and expectant.

“Salacious. Do tell.” Another voice piped up with a giggle.

“He can be fun to toy with. I do enjoy pushing back, but sometimes he takes it… a little far.” You said carefully.

“My, who would have known? But you get what you want, my dear, surely.” Lilian asked.

You smiled, glancing back at him, suit pristine with a white rose in his breast pocket. You hated how good he looked. He was smiling politely at the group of men around him, but you could tell from the tick in his jaw that something was bothering him.

“Sometimes, I do. Others, I wait for my chance to push his buttons right back.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? I don’t suppose,” she pressed, “that you’re in one of those… entanglements at the moment?”

“Lilian, darling, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Another giggle sounded from the group.

“Oh, my.” Lilian repeated, glancing between the two of you. “I do hope you’ve been making him suffer.”

“Well, I’m playing a longer game this time, so I’m afraid there hasn’t been as much fun lately.”

Lilian sucked in a breath, like the perfect idea had just dawned on her.

“Well, I see no moment like the present. You’re here, you’re dressed marvellously, I propose you walk right over there and show him just what he’s missing.”

A chorus of yes and do it and we’ll cheer you ons rang out. Loosened by the champagne, you looked across the room at him again. You could do it. He wouldn’t be able to react, it would be the most perfect torture. You suddenly decided that you were done making small moves, done playing it safe like this was some schoolgirl crush. It was time to step up to the mark again. Take your power back.

Your group could sense the newfound determination in you. You smiled, slow and cunning.

Show him what he’s missing.

Simple. It’s what you did best.

“Watch and learn, ladies.”

A hush fell over the group as they watched you run a hand through your hair, handed your glass to one of them, and pressed your lips together. Before you’d left the house you’d added a swipe of red lipstick, dark red, almost bloodlike. It always made you feel more confident and tonight, you needed the pick me up.

The middle of the ballroom was practically empty; the dancing was over, and everyone had long since gathered in groups to the sides. So you turned heads when you stepped out, the only one on the floor, black satin hugging your frame like a second skin. You didn’t look at them, you made a steady beeline to Snow. You felt more and more eyes on you as you crossed the room, heels clicking on the floor. They all watched, waiting for… something. Coriolanus didn’t look up until you were a mere few steps away, now deep in some conversation he was going to forget very shortly.

Blue eyes flashed to yours with a confused apprehension, but you didn’t give yourself time to think about the twitch of his brow, or the looks on the faces of his colleagues. You didn’t think about the way he opened his mouth as if to say something, only for it to be swallowed away.

You didn’t think about any of that.

Because your lips were on his.

Hot and hungry, teeth clashing, your hand grabbing the back of his neck as he leaned in, surprised at first, then warm, wanting. Lips tugging at yours like he was starving.

It was sinful.

You’d never been kissed like this before. Your fuzzy brain wondered how you’d gone through life not knowing what this felt like, the press of his lips devouring yours, heated and messy.

He kissed you like breathing, like you were his oxygen supply. His hand slid to your waist and pulled you in, and you heard the echoes of chuckling coming from around you, morphing into a few light claps.

Then, just as you felt him fully melt into you, your hand slipped higher to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of perfect platinum curls, and tugged.

It was nothing but an affectionate display to the people surrounding you, but a brazen reminder between the two of you. It was your way of showing you hadn’t forgotten, that you wouldn’t be made to feel ashamed, to cower in a corner while he got the better of you.

Not in this lifetime.

The second it happened, his breath hitched, and his hand tensed on your waist. You were the only one who caught it, getting high off the satisfaction, finally pulling away.

You weren’t sure you’d ever seen a prettier sight; his blown-out eyes, his face stained with scarlet.

How’s that for tasting your own medicine.

Watching him attempt to collect himself was sweeter still. Watching him reset his face into one of distant amusement. He let out a small laugh, glanced at the rest of the party.

“Everything alright, doll? Had a little much champagne, perhaps?”

His colleagues chuckled, but you didn’t look their way. You stood your ground. Offered a sweet smile, but he could see your slyness.

“Oh, I’m swell. And I think I’ve had just enough, actually. I’m gonna go freshen up.”

You turned on your heel and made your way through winding halls to the bathroom, riding an adrenaline high. You picked up a glass from a server’s tray along the way – the champagne had dried out, all they were serving now was posca, which while disgusting, worked a treat to take the edge off. It wasn’t long before the door swung open and you saw Coriolanus appear behind you in the mirror.

“This is the ladies’ room, handsome.” You looked away, continuing to reapply your lipstick.

He stepped closer.

“What was that kiss about, sweetheart?” Straight to the point.

“Nothing.” You shrugged.

“Didn’t feel like nothing.”

“That’s called acting, Snow.” You rolled your eyes, vaguely aware that your words sounded a little jumbled. You put the tube of lipstick away. “We had an audience. A rather expectant one at that.”

He folded his arms.

“I don’t like it when you catch me off guard like that. Not with people around.”

“Seemed to like it plenty to me.” You mumbled.

He didn’t answer, pacing past you to the other sink, grabbing a towel and wiping it against his face, where the red had stained his skin. It only served to spread it around further, and if you weren’t already smugly entertained by the marks you’d left on him, now it was just plain funny.

He glared at you when you laughed.

“Don’t give me that look. Here,” you offered, stepping across to him, taking the towel and wetting it, “let me.”

You wiped at a patch, but he snatched the towel back and took over.

“No, you’re rubbing it too hard. It’s-” he glowered at you – “fine. Do it your way.”

You went back to lean against your sink and took another sip of posca, admiring the ornate decorations in the room. A little excessive, a little new money for your tastes.

There was a rap on the door.

“President Snow?”

“Just a minute.” He said coolly.

“You’re in a mood tonight.” You remarked, and he huffed.

“Running a country can get exhausting. Don’t expect you to understand.”

“Right.” You said flatly. “Because I’m just a brainless pawn like everybody else.”

He looked over at you, at the drink in your hand.

“How many of those have you had?”

You shrugged again, and he tossed the towel into the sink, walking over to you.

“Answer me.” His voice was stern, and for a second, you soaked it in, drenched in the danger as he approached, closing in. Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips, and your eyes followed his as he moved to stand in front of you.

“Shame you don’t have someone to let all that frustration out on, isn’t it? Sounds like that could be helpful.”

His eyes pierced yours.

“Doll-”

“I’m just saying, it’s a pity you don’t.” You moved to bring the glass to your lips, anticipating the burn in your throat, but he gently stopped your hand.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Posca? It’s my first glass.” You smiled, eyes batting.

“You know what I mean. I think you should stop.”

You looked at the glass, then back at him, and pried your hand away, slowly and pointedly taking another sip.

“Sweetheart.” He warned.

“What, are you punish me? Gonna make me beg for you then kick me out again? Already did that once.”

He gave an incredulous half-laugh.

“That’s what this is about? You’re not really going to be mad about that forever, are you?”

“That depends. How long is forever?”

The door knocked again, and he worked the glass out of your hand.

“Drink some water. Sober up. We’ll talk about this when we get home.”

You sighed, heading for the door, but glanced back at him, his face still a stained mess. You brushed a finger against your own cheek to mirror his.

“You missed a spot.”

You sat in silence in his office, feeling a little like a schoolchild caught misbehaving. His typing was the only sound in the room. The seat was low; almost as if it was there to point out his authority over anyone who sat in it. Knowing him, it probably was.

He’d managed to clean off the rest of your lipstick, but his face looked rubbed raw, uncomfortable. A tall glass of water sat on the desk in front of you.

“Thought you said we’d talk.”

“Not until you finish that glass. I’m not talking to you inebriated.”

“Seriously?”

He shot you a look from behind his typewriter.

“Fine. Whatever.” You reached for it and took a few sips. He looked back down again. A few folders cluttered the desk, and in your boredom, your eyes scanned them. They looked complicated; legal.

“What are you writing there anyway? Or am I too dumb to understand?”

He offered another unimpressed glance.

“It’s a new bill I’m trying to pass. Except apparently, I’m the only one around here with their head screwed on enough to work on it.”

You waited as Snow pushed the typewriter’s lever, carriage sliding the page as he began writing the next line. You sipped your water.

He sighed. “One day I won’t have to mingle with these idiots anymore. They’ll just listen to me, and obey.”

You took that in.

“Do you feel that way about me?”

He studied you for a second, and stopped typing.

“No. Not really.”

“But you wish I’d be more… compliant.” You stared at the floor.

“Not necessarily.”

“You sure? Didn’t seem to like it the other night.”

His eyes narrowed. Knowing this conversation was a game of chess like any other. But lately the stakes were higher than ever.

“Never said I didn’t like it. Just that you were out of line.”

“And where is that fucking line?” You snapped. “I’m serious, Snow, because we’ve never talked about it.”

“You want to talk, all of a sudden? Okay, sweetheart. Fire away.”

You put the glass down on the table, heavier than intended.

“I just don’t understand you, Coriolanus. I mean, first you don’t want me, then you do want me, then you don’t again. And now what? I don’t know what I’m supposed to think when you don’t give me anything to go off.”

He watched you carefully, and you wanted to shake him, to scream, anything that would give you answers. You stood, unable to sit still, and started pacing.

“You know what’s worse? I don’t even know if you want me here anymore. I don’t know how to act around you because I never know what you’re thinking. At first I thought all this, the whole push and pull, was just some control thing. But-” you laughed, airy and insane, “you know what I realised? You’ve had me fooled, Snow. All this time I thought we were equals, but now I think I finally realise.”

He frowned, waiting for you to continue.

“You pay for my company, if you think about it. We trade services, don’t we? You get something from me, I get something back. I live in your house, eat your food, wear nice clothes. At the end of the day, that’s just it, isn’t it?”

“What?”

You shrugged, tears filling your eyes as bitterness took over, so strong you could almost taste it.

“I’m no better than a whore myself.”

You’d never heard a louder silence. If that hadn’t just taken everything out of you, you’d have begged him to say something. Instead, you just stared, eyes blurry with tears, as he seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, and you gave up trying to read his mind, because his expression was indecipherable.

After what felt like hours, he took a long breath.

“Sit down.”

You glanced at the floor, then took a step towards your chair. He stopped you.

“Not there. Here.” He nodded at the desk in front of him, and you swallowed thickly, stepping around the desk, getting awfully close to him, and pulling yourself onto the desk, legs pressed together. He stood, looking down at you.

“That’s really what you think of yourself?” He asked, voice steady and controlled.

You kept your eyes averted.

“Am I wrong?”

He lifted a hand and brushed his fingertips against your jaw, tipping your head up to look at him. And when you looked at his eyes, you knew exactly what he was feeling. He wasn’t hurt, or upset.

He was mad.

“Tell me something. What do you think I’d do if I heard someone talking about you that way?

“I don’t-”

“I’d have them executed. And you expect me to stand by and let you talk about yourself like that?”

You felt a tear spill down your cheek.

“I don’t know, Coriolanus, you tell me. Am I disposable to you?”

“Of course not."

“But you’d replace me if I left.”

“What makes you think I’d let you leave in the first place?”

A chill caressed your spine.

“That’s right. I’m keeping you here, doll. If I made you doubt that, I apologise. But you’re no whore. Though sometimes, I…” He trailed off.

“What?”

His eyes were on your lips again, hungry. You wondered how someone could switch from distant to depraved and wanting this quickly.

“Sometimes I wish you were. Because it’d make it a lot easier for me to take what I want. If you were, then I’d have no hesitation in ripping your clothes off right here. Fucking you on my desk, or up against the wall, not caring if you cum. Not caring if you enjoy it. If you were a whore, I’d have fucked you in every room in this house, twice over. I wouldn’t let you sleep.”

His hand was on your thigh, the now-creased fabric of your dress crumpling as it slid up. You weren’t sure when your eyes had fallen shut, your hot breath mixing with his as his thumb rubbed against your skin.

Your voice was pathetically quiet.

“Then why don’t you?”

He sighed, tone shifting into something tense, something you could cut through with a knife.

“Because you’re fucking impossible, you know that? I can barely think when you’re around. I don’t know where the games begin or end. I don’t… I don’t understand this power you have over me. I thought you knew, you must know that you’re under my skin. I don’t know if you’ll ever stop playing with me. It drives me fucking insane.”

You opened your eyes, hand gripping his wrist and pulling it from your thigh. You slid off the desk and took a step away from him.

“You think I’m playing with you? The only time you pay an ounce of attention to me is when you’re trying to fuck with my head, Snow. I said my piece, you heard me and you still didn’t care. So please, for both our sakes, stop torturing me. Just… come find me when you decide you want me again, okay? Let’s leave it at that.”

You made for the door, which you slammed with such an impressive force that it even took you aback.

You replayed his words in your head that night until you fell into a deep sleep, and when you woke, you felt like your dreams made more sense than he did.

“Tigris!” you exclaimed, catapulting into the blonde’s arms. The people who stood scattered around you in the manor’s large ballroom spun their heads around at your display. A few even dodged to the side as the momentum that you’d built running down the stairs nearly knocked her over.

A few days of silent glances and fewer exchanged words had passed. And now, you were just happy to be hosting in the comfort of your own home, and to finally see Tigris again. You wondered if she noticed how you hugged her, if she wondered - like you did - if you’d ever let go.

“I’m so happy you’re here. How’s your Grandma’am?”

“She’s quite well, she’s sorry she couldn’t make it. You look beautiful as ever. It’s been too long!”

“I know! I don’t think I’ve seen you since your birthday, which makes me the worst friend ever.” You groaned, scrunching up your face in shame.

“It’s okay! I know busy Coriolanus keeps you with all these functions. You must be going out of your mind by now. How are you holding up?”

The two of you walked to the edge of the room, where prying eyes had settled down after your greeting.

You looked at Snow, stood across the ballroom, dressed in a pristine suit with a champagne glass in hand, talking to yet another group of men who worked for him – ministers and such, a little higher ranking than the group from the other night – and spared you the occasional glance. As if he was keeping tabs on you. It wasn’t long before Tigris caught on and politely inquired.

“I don’t understand him, Tigris. I think he hates me.” You sighed.

“What? No, he could never. He has a soft spot for you, really, and I have it on good authority.”

“I’m not so sure anymore. I think I’ve pushed it a little far this time. I think… maybe we both did. I’m in uncharted waters, here.”

“Look, I know I don’t know all the ins and outs of how this thing between you works, but I don’t think he could ever hate you for doing anything. Coryo – I mean, Coriolanus, he does care, contrary to popular belief. It’s just that his way of showing it can get a little…”

“Fucked?” You offered, and she laughed.

“Yes, exactly. Now, I’m not going to lie to you and say that he’s an angel on earth, he’s had to do things to get to where he is now. Things that even I don’t know the extent of, and they’ve… changed him.”

You rarely got the chance to speak with Tigris alone these days, with Snow usually playing chaperone, or keeping one or the both of you busy, but it had always been easy to slide right back into conversation with her like you’d never been apart.

You’d first met Tigris at a Plinth gala years ago, on the same day you’d met Snow. The two of you had talked and laughed and she had an easiness around her, she wasn’t shallow and judgemental like a lot of the girls you’d grown up with, though you never knew why until many months later. Snow had placed a large wall between his life before the Plinth endorsement, and after. Few people knew the conditions he’d grown up in, but after countless hours with Tigris, you’d begun to assemble small pieces. Despite your closeness with her, you knew from her warnings that Snow had a sort of temper when it came to this topic, so you approached it with caution.

“Changed him how?” You inquired, finally.

“Well… It wasn’t always fancy balls and lunches with him. It never was, with any of us, as you know, but especially for him. He’s… had a different experience. Grandma’am and I, we’ve known hard times, but we haven’t seen what he’s seen. Not even close.”

“What kind of things?”

She glanced over her shoulder, making sure nobody was hovering.

“He’d kill me for telling you.”

“You know I won’t say a word. But you don’t have to tell me, if it’s too much to ask.”

She took in a breath, and sipped her drink, voice dropping to a whisper.

“This stays between us, okay? Coriolanus has… been out there. In the districts, I mean. Before all this. And I can’t go into detail, he’d have my head if I…”

You swallowed.

“The districts? But… why? I don’t-”

“Tigris, lovely to see you, it’s been so long.” A male voice interrupted, and you quickly excused yourself, slipping away to let the two of them talk.

After mulling it over in your head and making small talk with a few more guests, you snuck out of a side door and into the hallways, winding upstairs until you were finally met with Snow’s bedroom door. The sound of voices and music a mere echo below you, you pushed tentatively, and stepped inside. It was strange, being in there alone, for the first time since he’d turned you away. But you paced the floor, looking for something, anything, that would answer the questions you had. Why the districts? Why couldn’t Tigris tell you what had happened there?

Glancing back at the door, you began thumbing through his closet, peeking inside drawers. You’d already given his room a once over, but you worked more meticulously this time, every corner you unsuccessfully turned over only fuelling your curiosity. You walked around the room again, getting frustrated.

You headed back to the door, scanning the place, and retraced your steps a third time. Knocking a little on cupboards and anything that appeared the slightest bit odd or out of place. It was a perpetually tidy room, neat as ever, save for the desk which contained folders you were sure weren’t for your eyes, but that didn’t stop you. You kept on, trying your best not to leave any stone unturned, and most importantly, trying not to move anything out of place.

Eventually, you moved to the smaller desk drawers again, rifling through them haphazardly, annoyed by the lack of evidence you were finding. One of the two drawers had very little inside it, just a pencil and a pocket dictionary, and as you pushed your hand further inside to feel for anything else, you noticed it felt smaller than the first. Shallower. When you knocked, it was hollow.

It had a false bottom.

Your father used to keep his cigars beneath one of these when you were growing up, so you knew what to look for. You felt around the edge until you touched a small, metal handle, then emptied the drawer, hooked your fingers into the handle and pulled. You frowned at first, there was less in the hidden compartment than there was above it. But you peered inside, and there lay two items: an old photograph, and a silver dog tag.

Suddenly, it all made sense. His efficiency, his drive, his orderliness.

Military. The districts. The dog tag.

You unfolded the photograph, caked in a layer of dust, and it hit you like a ton of rocks.

Coriolanus was a peacekeeper.

But why? When? And why keep it a secret?

In the photograph, his hair was buzzed, and he was in a uniform you recognised immediately; if only because of the annual reaping ceremony shown in every building in the Capitol. He was standing next to a boy with dark hair, also buzzed. You recognised him as Sejanus Plinth, you’d never met the kid but you’d been to his funeral with your family, and had seen enough pictures to know.

You knew that the Plinth family had backed Coriolanus’ education, that he became their new heir, a protégé of sorts, but not that he’d been friends with their son. Not that they’d been this close, at least. They weren’t smiling in the photo, stood pin straight and alert in what looked like barracks.

You folded the photograph and placed it back where you found it. Your hands lingered on the dog tag, though, despite the logical side of your brain screaming at you to put it back, leave the room and pretend you didn’t see this. But the louder part egged you on as you pulled it out of the drawer, examining the engraved words, running your hands over the name SNOW and, further down, DISTRICT 12.

You’d heard bedtime stories from your mother while growing up, about the war, the Hunger Games and why they existed, and why it was never safe to set foot in the districts, not even the richer ones.

They’re beneath us, she’d said. They’re dangerous. Barbaric. And 12 was notoriously the poorest, most dangerous of them all.

Coriolanus had now become more of an enigma to you than ever before, and a thousand new questions flooded your head.

You closed the drawer halfway, holding the chain, pulling out a chair in front of the mirror to sit down. You turned the tag over in your hands, as if it would start giving you the answers, if only you looked hard enough.

Why was he sent to 12? Why couldn’t he talk about it?

Despite the conditions Snow grew up in, there was respect behind his family name. It didn’t make sense why someone of his social standing and education would leave to be a peacekeeper, of all things, and in 12, of all places. A strange sort of pity filled you, wondering what he could’ve seen out there. What he could’ve done. It all drew you in as you got lost in a world of what ifs.

Despite yourself, you pushed your hair from your neck, and as if in a trance, wrapped the chain around it. It fell heavy and cold against your skin, sending a chill through your bones. You were so busy staring down at it, so lost in thought that you barely noticed the sound of the door pushing open. Or the floorboards lightly creaking. Or his reflection in the mirror. You didn’t notice any of that, until the door swung shut with a bang.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Coriolanus had had a long day, most of which he’d spent simmering over work and you. He’d kept his eye on you that evening; on the way you’d thrown yourself into Tigris’ arms, and talked, transfixed, and he hated not knowing what was being said. A strange feeling set in as he saw the two of you get deeper into conversation from the other side of the large room, a deep-seated uneasiness stirring him up as he drowned out the tales of his associates’ incompetence. It felt like a breath of relief when he sent someone your way to interrupt whatever talk you were having, pretending that Tigris had been looking for him earlier. He focused on your brief tour of the room when the distraction worked, eyes flitting around like you were preoccupied.

When he saw you dart away from the ballroom and up one of the stairwells, he followed you as soon as he got the chance.

He’d wondered if you might act up today, but this wasn’t what he was expecting. When he saw you, the all too familiar glint of silver around your pretty neck, something shifted in him. Something he’d done a very, very good job of keeping at bay during his first few years of presidency.

Rage.

Your eyes met his in the mirror.

“Coriolanus, I-”

His hands were on you before you could finish your sentence, hauling you out of the chair, fingers wrapped in a death grip around your arms, squeezing as he pushed you to the wall with a satisfying thud.

“What, you can explain? I highly doubt that.”

“I’m sorry, I just-” You gasped as he squeezed tighter, gripping your wrists.

“Do you even know what this means?” He seethed, dog tag pressed between his fingers, chain pulling at your neck.

The forest. The birds. The gunshots that deafened him for weeks.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry. I never knew you were a peacekeeper, Coryo, I-” He flinched, saw the way you winced the second it passed your lips.

Snow may have been cold, but his eyes were fire. And you were only stoking it.

“So I’m Coryo now? Who the fuck told you call me that? Was it Tigris? I saw you talking to her, don’t lie to me.”

“No.” You shook your head. “She didn’t tell me anything, I promise. Please. It was just me.”

He moved in closer, eclipsing you altogether, grip on the chain so tight he was certain you’d be able to feel it pinching the back of your neck, digging a mark into your flesh. He let the sadistic part of his brain take delight in it, in the way your eyes widened, face pleading.

Whatever this game was between you, you’d gone too far this time.

“How did you find this?” He snapped.

You were crowded against the wall, unable to move. Tears started to brim, and you didn’t answer, he wasn’t sure you could. You just shook your head over and over, repeating I’m sorry like a broken record.

“Take this off. Now. Take it off.” He ordered, dropping it back to your chest, stepping away a little so you could lift your shaking arms over your head, removing the chain. He snatched it from you, gripping it in his palm, looking down at it, and you breathed out in relief.

“I didn’t mean to… I was just looking. I had so many questions. I didn’t know what I’d find.”

“And? Are you fucking satisfied now?” His voice chilled you to the bone as he looked up at you again.

You shook your head. Apologised again. Wished you could apologise in any way that would matter, but it was too late. You’d never been more afraid in your life, anticipating what might happen, remembering echoes of rumors you’d heard, of Snow poisoning his enemies, of sending them to hang. Some you knew to be true, but others you boiled down to rebel gossip.

Now, you weren’t so sure. These were the eyes of a man who’d dropped his mask, and it was like staring into a dark void. You could get lost in it, and never find your way back.

“Please. Don’t… I won’t tell anyone, I promise. You can trust me.”

He scoffed.

Stupid girl. Hadn’t you learned by now, that trust meant nothing?

“Like I trusted you in here? I don’t think so. Can’t believe you had me feeling sorry for you. Probably just made it up so you could lower my guard then turn around and stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I didn’t, Coriolanus, I swear.” You pleaded. You were crying, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’ve been very patient with you, little girl. But this is where I draw the line. You have no idea how far you’ve pushed me. And you don’t even realise it, you’re so caught up in your little crush. Do you know how easy I’ve been going on you? The things I’ve let you get away with… I’ve killed people for much less.”

“You’ve…” You trailed off, barely hearing your own words, barely processing a thing. He laughed, low and dark.

“Does that scare you, sweetheart? Does it make you afraid?”

Eyes frozen open, you just stared. You felt your jaw go slack.

“Good.”

Coriolanus toed an invisible line, one that had never been crossed before. You wanted him to show you he wanted you? Fine.

He looked down at the chain wrapped around his fist, but he didn’t pocket it, or place it to the side. He unwound it, and slowly pulled it over his own neck.

Your eyes dropped to where it sat in stark contrast, heavy and shining, garish against his fancy dress shirt. You felt your blood run cold.

“Get on your knees.” You heard him say. Your eyes darted back up.

“What?”

When he spoke, it sounded like someone else was talking. Someone you didn’t know at all.

“You heard me. Get on your fucking knees. Right now.”

What could you do? This was what you’d wanted. Just… not like this. Not when your hands were shaking in fear, and you had no idea what this Coriolanus was capable of.

Your head said yes; your heart wept. But you were far past listening to your sorry heart.

So, you obeyed. Legs all but giving in as you lowered yourself to the ground, knees meeting cold hardwood as the chill cut through your dress.

His fingers slipped under one of the straps.

“Take this off, baby.” He murmured, distant, like he wasn’t all there. Your head hung in shame, eyes on his feet as you pushed the straps from your shoulder, top half of the dress falling down. You heard his zipper slide down, and you shivered. No longer sure if it was in fear or anticipation.

“Head up. Look at me. Good,” he said, when you obliged, “now let’s see what this pretty mouth’s really good for, shall we?”

More tears welled up as his hand brushed your jaw, hooking a thumb to your bottom lip, pushing your mouth open. You couldn’t help the way your tongue grazed over it, tasting salt, whining when you realised it was the taste of your own tears. When your eyes fell open again, you finally caught a look at him, hard and tip weeping, and your brain filled with nothing but want, eclipsing your fear for a mere second, enough to bring Coriolanus to the ground again. He may have done terrible, unspeakable things, but he was still a man. A man who wanted you.

And why did that make your heart beat out of your chest? It thrummed like a hummingbird as you took in the sight of him, unbuttoning his shirt as he waited for you to move.

You’d seen how big he was from a distance. You’d felt him between layers of fabric, and you’d imagined this a million times over. But now, as he stood waiting in front of you, you hesitated, because it all finally felt real. Your mouth watered despite yourself, seeing the mess he’d already made, any more and he’d start dripping -

“Go on, sweetheart. It’s not gonna suck itself.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you let him past your lips. The heady taste of precum filled your mouth as you ran your tongue along the shaft slowly, trying to start steady. He wasn’t having it. His hand twisted through your hair, pulling you in closer, making you gag a little. You instinctively lifted a hand up to his thigh to brace yourself, and he laughed.

“Giving up so soon? Thought you’d try harder than that.”

He pushed further, and the indignant sound you made as you adjusted only served to spur him on.

You tried to focus on breathing through it, but he slipped in and out your mouth unevenly, and faster than you could think, catching you off guard. He looked down at the way your mouth struggled to take his length as if you were a piece of art, like he was mesmerised by it, and that feeling was encouragement was enough to keep you going. His hand twisted harder in your hair, making a fist, and he swore when you hummed in discomfort.

“Look at you.” He said, strung-out and shaky. “You strut right in here from your silver spoon life, and think you can call the shots? You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, sweetheart. You have no fucking idea what the world is really like. What people are like. What they have to do to survive.”

He moved faster, and you let your jaw go slack. You were barely moving now, he was starting to fuck your throat like he owned it. You’d started to cry again, and when you looked up at him, it was a blur. The furthest you could see was his chest, shirt unbuttoned and falling to the sides, and the dog tag, silver catching in the low light, swinging against his chest as he moved. You closed your eyes again, trying to go somewhere else in your head. Trying to breathe through your nose, to focus on being used, on how good you were making him feel, on finally being his. It was all you had left to hold on to.

But he was unwinding you with his words, knowing just where to press to make it sting, to make the tears fall harder.

“You don’t have any fucking shame about it either. Touching yourself on my bed and wearing my clothes, like you’re – fuck, that’s it - like we’re married or something. Like you’re worth more than everyone else. But look at you. Maybe you were right after all. Maybe you are my whore.” he gritted out.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried desperately to catch your breath between sobs.

“I mean, you sure look like it now, on your knees for me, making a mess of your pretty face. So fucking good. You’re sucking me off better than she did, and you’re barely even trying.”

You hated it. Hated the way his thumb brushed painfully gently against your cheek, dusting away a tear as his cock bruised the back of your throat and you tried not to gag around him. Hated the way his words twisted around in your head, and how fucked up it was that your broken brain took it as praise instead of punishment.

Most of all, you hated the throb between your shaking legs, panties soaked through and probably ruined. Humiliation seeped through you as you imagined it dripping down your legs and onto the floor. Your salty tears spilled down your face, mixing with your spit and his precum. Hating every second, until your head went blank, and you didn’t feel much of anything anymore.

You weren’t sure exactly how it happened.

One second, he was pulling your hair, twitching in your mouth and spilling down your throat, and the next, in what felt like a flash, you were on the floor, loud, wrecked sobs spilling out of you as you held your knees to your chest, face hidden. He was on the floor too - when did he get down? - and his voice was soft, oh so soft and gentle, saying something you couldn’t quite make out, dull and repetitive past your ringing ears.

“- so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I know I - I didn’t… I took it too far. Can you hear me, sweetheart? Look at me. Please, look at me. I’m right here.”

You pulled your head from your hands, and through blurred eyes, you looked at him.

This wasn’t a face you’d seen on him before. His brows knitted, lips apart as he stared at you, like you were some wounded animal he wanted to save.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Please.”

“I can’t…” You trailed off.

“You can tell me.”

Another wave of choked back sobs took over you. He held your jaw up like you were something breakable. Like maybe you’d broken already, and he was holding you together.

“I can’t do this.” You whispered. “Not like-”

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek.

“Okay. It’s okay, baby. Tell me what I can do for you. Just say the word.”

You caught your breath, and he flinched a little as you collapsed into his arms. The cool metal of the dog tag pressed into your cheek.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You cried.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t realise how far I’d pushed you until… I know I can’t make it up to you, but I’ll try. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. If you want to leave, I understand. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“What? No, that’s not…”

He cut you off, looking into your eyes.

“Decide tomorrow, okay doll? You don’t have to think about that now.”

“I didn’t know about… about the districts.” You hiccupped. “About you. You didn’t want me to know. I ruined everything, I-”

“Listen to me. It doesn’t matter anymore, I promise you. It’s okay, baby.”

You nodded into his chest.

“Here.” He leaned away from you, and you looked up in a question. He took the chain from his neck and placed it in your palm.

“You can have it. So long as nobody sees. You can throw it away, wear it around the house, whatever you want. It’s yours.”

You pressed it between your fingers. It cooled your hot skin like a salve.

“Thank you.” You whispered. Your head sank back onto his chest, and when you spoke again, it was barely audible.

“Coryo?”

He tensed for a second, but relaxed again just as quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

His hand brushed gently against your hair, and you relaxed into it.

“Of course you can.”

a/n: baby's first dubcon scene!! (screams cries and throws up bc navigating that was scary as fuck) p.s one more chapter left!! do we think they'll get their shit together?? who knows!! (i know)

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904 @pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @snowlandstop @badbleep88

(more tags in the reblogs/comments)

if you’d like to be tagged, pls comment on the series masterlist (helps me keep track of everyone!!) 💌

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #tom blyth #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #snow x reader #snow x you #attention #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #x reader #x you smut

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mellifiedprincess · 3 months

Text

REALLY SHORT BUT SAPPY SHIT! and boob talk for like 2 seconds.

Opening the door to the house you share with the boys, you immediately take notice of the lack of noise that usually takes place.

You can’t say you’re not a little bit grateful, especially after working a 12 hour shift as a peds nurse. It was not a good day to say the least. All you wanted in that very moment was a hot shower and to be wrapped up in the arms of your ridiculously handsome boyfriend.

Closing the door to the garage, you walk over to Chris’s door and softly knock waiting to hear a response. “Yeah?” You peek your head in and see the boy at his desk, headset on and eyes focused on the monitor in front of him. “Oh, hey Y/N/N- Yeah, she just walked in.” Chris replies to you and then who you assume to be Matt through the headset. “Hey Chrissy, just checking in before I head upstairs. You okay?” This was part of your nightly routine. You couldn’t really remember when it started, but you always had to check on Chris and Nick before going to bed. Otherwise you couldn’t sleep.

“Yeah, I’m good. Matt’s yelling in my ear right now asking for you to hurry up. Kids acting like you just got back from war.” You let out a soft laugh at his remark. “I need to check on Nick, then I’ll be in there.” “Oh Nicks gone. He went to hang out with Larray and Arrington.”

“Alright. Well, try to get some sleep. You guys have that really important meeting tomorrow morning.”

“Oh shit! I totally forgot about that. Thanks.” You nod your head and you both say goodnight, before you turn and finally make your way to your bedroom.

When you open the door, your eyes find Matt’s already staring at you. He looks so…soft. Soft and warm and inviting. “Finally!” He huffs out. You can’t help but laugh at him as you walk over to where he sits at his desk. “I missed you so much today.” His voice is muffled by his face being smushed into your stomach, his arms tightly wrapped around you as if you were gonna leave him.

“I missed you too angel.” Your fingers push his hair away from his forehead, and you lean down to place a gentle kiss to his hairline. “I do need to shower though, and then I’m all yours.” A very audible whine leaves his mouth and he pulls you down into his lap, and immediately shoves his face into your neck.

“Can’t you shower in the morning? I wanna keep holding you.”

You’re convinced your heart just melted in your chest from how sweet your boyfriend is. “How about you come sit in the bathroom while I shower? You can tell me about your day.”

“Okay!” He jumps up at that and your eyes widen at the sudden movement. “Jeez Matty, warn me next time.”

“I’m just really excited to see your boobs.” That comment earns him a slap against his chest and an eye roll.

“You act like you don’t see them whenever you want, kid.” “I could have 24/7 visual of those things and it still wouldn’t be enough. Same thing with that pretty face of yours.”

You would never understand how he could be so sweet, yet disgusting at the same time.

You make it to the bathroom, and Matt places you back down on the floor before walking over to the shower to start the water for you. “I’ll be right back, baby.” He places a quick kiss to your lips and exits the bathroom.

When he returns, he’s holding a pair of fresh love sweatpants, clean underwear, and an old t-shirt of his that you stole and claimed as yours a long time ago. “Ughh I love you!” You can’t help but exclaim before pulling him closer to plant another quick kiss to his lips. “I love you way more though. No argument there.”

And Matt really believed that.

The love he felt for you was soul consuming. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“That’s not fair. I love you just as much as you love me! You’re the sun in my freaking sky Matthew.” You pout. Pout. And Matt can’t help but gush at how fucking cute you are.

He looks down at you, your arms wrapped around his waist, and he swears to himself that he would be the sun in your sky for the rest of your lives. And he knew what you meant by that, but being the sun in someone’s sky is nothing compared to being someone’s moon.

And you were his moon. Full of love and hope. The most nurturing person he knew, always taking care of others before yourself, especially him and his brothers. And you were always so calm, which helped a lot when he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Okay, sweet girl. Let’s get you in the shower so we can go to bed. I know you’re probably exhausted.” He softly pats your hip, and moves so you can get undressed and finally shower.

Later that night when you finally retreat to bed, your head lies on Matt’s chest, sleep calling your name so softly you can barely keep your eyes open. Matt just watches you. He watches as your chest slowly rises and falls, and your breathing slows. He watches as you curl into his side even more. But he knew you weren’t quite asleep yet, because this man knew every minor detail about you.

So, when you reach for his hand and bring it to your lips before squeezing it against your chest, where it would stay for the rest of the night, he knew you were finally asleep.

#sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader

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c1b3rly · 3 months

Note

Hi! I saw that you are taking requests? Could you do Lucifer x reader? Where reader and him is already dating but reader is insecure, wondering what would happen between them if Lilith comes back. Would he leave the reader?

I don’t know the rules with your requests so if I broke any rules in this request, I deeply apologise and please ignore this request if so! Have a lovely day/evening/night!

━ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 -> 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃

lucifer morningstar x gn! insecure! reader

summary; thoughts and worries where everywhere around you, curious and scared about what would happen if your beloved partner would leave you again for his actual first wife, but your partner knows you better then that.

cw; some insecurities to past relationship, little mentally unstable topics (ex. overthinking, anxiety), comfort, fluff. no proofread!

It was no secret that you had some ups and downs with the relationship you have with lucifer.

You where contantly wondering what would happen if lilith, lucifer's ex-wife, the woman he was banished with into hell, would return back and would try to get back with him.

It terrified you actually, you knew lucifer for so long and you are so happy about this lovely relationship you two have, if this would happen you don't know where to be tbh..

And with all those thoughts living in your head, you didn't noticed that your distants was getting obvious by your lover.

Lucifer knew from the beginning you where insecure about yourself, you douded a lot about you, especially after seeing the pictures of lilith smiling so warmthly and looking majestic as ever.

He tried many times to convince you otherwise, that he appreciates you so much and loves every inch of you but unfortunately sometimes you took it as pity, because the moments he told you this you where again looking over old pictures of the morningstar family

you knew it was bad to do this, but lucifer allowed you which is why you where contantly on those books..

And now, you where again thinking about many scenarios on how lucifer would drop you off for his ex-wife, you sat on the edge of your shared bed with your legs close to your chest and with your head inbetween them as you tried to collect your breathing from all the tears you let fell down your cheeks.

"stupid.. why am i always crying about this bullshit?" you asked yourself sniffing, you where glad that lucifer shouldn't be near the bedroom, otherwise he would've heard your silent complains you where doing since almost 10 minutes.

Or so you thought, lucifer was actually on his way to check on you because you haven't shown yourself since a good amount of time and he was starting to get worried, and before he could even knock on the door, he stopped at his track when he heard you sobbing in there.

Lucifer wasn't dumb thats for sure, he knew about what you where crying about again and the pain in his heart was aching to just burst into the room and take you into his arms, but he decided to take it easy with you.

Without knocking, lucifer carefully opened the door to see your frame hugged together into a ball sniffing your poor eyes out, he gently closed the door and made his way towards you.

"sweetheart?" he gently called out, you shook your head towards his voice to see him standing there with a sad form in his face which made you immediatly burry your face back into your knees.

"what?" you asked quietly, your voice shaking and muffled from hiding it, lucifer moved closer to you until he's in front of you on one knee as he gently took your face into his hands, making you look at him with red eyes from crying.

Lucifer couldn't help but give you one of his heart-warming smiles that you loved so much.

"my poor duckling, when do you see yourself the way i do?" he asked, wipping your tears away from your cheek with his thumb. you didn't said a word, just moved your eyes to the floor in quilt.

"baby.. i know you hate talking about this, but believe me when i'm saying this, you mean the entire world to me. i know you think that i would want to leave you but imma be honest, i couldn't live without you, you're my heart, the reason why i wanna wake up everyday and i'm so thankful for having you with me."

Lucifer said, his smile growing with each word as he placed one of your shaking hands on his chest where his heart lays and pulls you close to him until you were embrassed by him.

You closed your eyes and allowed to just feel luci's heart beating against your head, you tried letting your feelings be freely as you slowly began to feel like home again.

"i'm sorry for my constant fear of losing you" you mumbled and luci only hugged you tighter, kissing the top of your head and leaned his own one of top of your gently.

"you have nothing to apologize for my love, we'll get through this together, and i will be by your side through everything"

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #𓅰 - c1b3rly

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draconic-desire · 15 days

Note

THE NAIVE DARLINGGGG

I can imagine darling crying into Sunday.. at first refusing going to home, expressing her insecurities. So when Sunday drags her back, she just pleads with Sunday. All darling wants to to serve at least some purpose to Sundays life. She begs Sunday to let her cook for him .. or in her sobbing fit shr muttered how even having Sundays baby would serve some usefullness.. Darling didnt want to seem like a burden to Sunday..

At the mention of babies, Sunday gets the idea of how sweet little children will tie darling to him forever

The baby will come out a lil skrunkly , in a cite way of course <3 a fat plump baby who looks like a dumpling with chicken wings attached to the back of its ear :"(

sunday would 1000% babytrap his darling at some point, you cannot convince me otherwise. but if YOU came to HIM about it? girl bye you’re done for

Yan!Sunday x Fem!Reader

warning: nsfw thoughts from sunday, mentions of pregnancy

After Sunday leads you back home, it doesn’t take long for your thoughts to spiral again.

Walking through the halls of the spacious pavilion, eying the grandeur that is Sunday’s home, pondering his status as the head of the Family…you start to wonder what you bring to the table.

He claims he loves you, that you are unique and irreplaceable, but what does that really mean? You have no money, wealth, or fame, no notable skills that could contribute to the Oak Family lineage.

Well, except…

Your hand falls to your abdomen. It’s something Sunday has mentioned in passing, the need for an heir, the desire to expand his family, but you never thought he meant doing so with you. But perhaps…?

Your head shakes violently, and you turn to wipe away a stray tear. How foolish of you. Sunday doesn’t keep you around for that sort of thing. His hier will be delivered from a queen, befitting of the same status as him, and not some nobody like you.

Like always, Sunday is more attentive than you give him credit for.

He thinks it’s cute, how naive and oblivious you are sometimes. Except when he notices that this time, you are attempting to hide your crying behind the palm on your hand.

“(Y/n), my love, what troubles you?” He gently pulls your hand away from your face and instead turns you to face him.

Seeing him like this, his tender gaze trained on your form alone, suddenly makes you burst into tears.

“S-S-Sunday,” you sob, “please let me help! I’ll do anything!”

He blinks, confusion written across his features. “Help? With what? (Y/n), it’s been a long day, let me take you to bed—”

You clasp his hands in your own, looking up at him with (e/c) eyes brimming with tears. “Please, don’t throw me aside for someone else. I-I promise I’m not a burden. You need an heir, right? So please, let me carry that responsibility.”

He inhales sharply, his amethyst pupils dilating.

…Did he hear you correctly?

You want to have his child?

Sunday momentarily forgets how to breathe.

Oh, how he has fantasized about this very scenario; it has taken all of his willpower to hold back, to fool you into believing his charming, domestic mannerisms, when he truly wishes to claim every part of you, to brand himself upon every inch of your flesh. Lovely, beautiful, naive little you would never expect the dark desires hidden beneath the surface.

In reality, the thought of you begging for his seed permeates his waking and sleeping dreams. He’s lost track of the amount of nights spent with his hand around his cock, picturing your tight cunt wrapped around it instead.

Never would he have imagined you in this position willingly, practically on your knees for him, desperate for his cum, for his child growing in your belly. The idea arouses him more than you can ever know, and he has to shift to hide his growing erection.

Instead, he scoops you into his arms and nuzzles his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent. Oh, how lovely you’re going to smell when you’re glowing and round with his heir! He imagines how adorable his Halovian child will be, and how he wishes to pin a pair of wings behind your ears as well—a matching set for father, mother, and child.

The wings are, of course, the very ones ripped from your own back—you’re just too entranced by Sunday to notice it was he who plucked them from you to begin with.

And now, Sunday is through with holding back. You’re going to be fully and irrevocably his, tied to him forever. Like a fly landing on a venus trap, your own actions seal your fate. You don’t have a moment to react before the jaws of the predator swallow you whole.

“How could I deny you, my angel?” he coos, pacing towards the bedroom as he begins to pry at the buttons of your top. “And what better time to begin than the present, hm?”

#yandere sunday #yandere sunday x reader #yandere sunday x you #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere x y/n #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yanderecore #hsr sunday #sunday hsr #sunday #yandere #honkai star rail #hsr

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kinokkotsu · 7 months

Text

Satisfied — Yuuta Okkotsu x Reader

々 Today’s Music Recommendation: Dark Red By Steve Lacy

A/N: im waiting for Mappa to finally give the jjk fan service to Yuta girlies.

You have accepted the fact that Yuta has nothing for you.

He is such a sweet and innocent soul with a dedicated heart. You should accept the fact that he truly wants to focus on what he is doing right now or otherwise you’d be the bad person.

Your brain tells you — you’re selfish because your heart just wouldn’t stop the way you look at him so dearly nor stop the way you touch him so tenderly despite the fact that he is only second to Gojo Satoru. Besides he has vowed how his heart only belongs to Rika.

Somewhere along that sentence has shuttered your heart once.

You and him were close, extremely. Extremely to the point where you both easily sleep in each other’s room without breaking a guilt, no nasty or sexual behavior from that. Just as close friends.

Yuta only has you if Maki, Toge or Panda were away for a mission. You are always there to embrace his coldness and bare with it everytime he needs you. You study as a Jujutsu Medical Student to treat physical wounds of your patients but Yuta seems to believe you also have the ability to plaster his scars within his sensitive heart.

You enjoy the thing you have with him. Love doesn’t have to be this and that. You are satisfied with whatever you are sacrificing for him. You hope this would last forever but you know life doesn’t always go as planned.

Higher ranks have decided to send him overseas, and you don’t like where this has headed.

“that meeting was draining for sakes..,” Sighs Yuta who plots down on the bed, next to your warm body, after he has stood his sword against the wall.

Yuta groans in exhaustion while he stretches his legs like a child. He always acts like a kid every time he is back from those old people, though it would lying if you admit you hate him whining over tiny problems.

“You shouldn’t have gone there if you already figured what it is going to be about,” you state, feeling Yuta lean into the crook of your neck while embracing your body.

He nods in your neck before sighing and holding you closer. “I just thought I needed to,” he says.

Silence fills up the room as you both kept quiet for a long time. No one is really in the mood to talk apparently, with all these missions and all these patients dragging the two of you down. The physical touch is the only way to express the burden you both are having.

The crickets in the background rhyme each seconds, entertaining the night as it goes on. The hoots of the owls alarmed how the night has been late for the humans to not fall asleep but neither of you couldn’t seem to close your eyes from exhaustion.

“..i must have to wait such a long time for you to come back,” you start the conversation, pushing your head back as you stare at the ceiling blankly.

He nods, again. Not wanting to spit a word nor waste his leftover energy comforting you.

Yuta has never felt so guilty doing this with you. Lately he could feel himself getting nervous and worried whenever you come to meet him even especially if you are busy. In fact he has been craving your touch then he has ever had in the past, knowing he must leave you soon.

Rika might be his first love but he is convinced he has fallen in love once again. This time with you.

The way you touch him so tenderly as if he was as fragile as glass, The way you look at him so dearly that he could melt right in that place, everything you behave around him get him smiling like an immature child.

He knows how he is hurting you like this, how it must have been draining you to accept the fact that he feels nothing towards you when in reality it is all incorrect.

That is when Yuta back his face away from your neck and look at you, staring as your eyelids seem like they are about to shut down anytime soon. He stares as he continues detecting every inch of your face that is illuminated by the moonlight.

A countdown goes on his mind for a good while till your eyes completely close.

“take care..of yourself, silly” he whispers while he brushed the dark circles under your eyes. You have fallen asleep already and he knows it. You are a heavy sleeper, and that is one fact about you that he thinks is cute.

Jujutsu Sorcerers are not ones to be fortunate when falling in love. He knows if he did, one of their lives could end tragically due to how cruel the world can be. Keeping the problem folded is better than unfolding the problem before it leaves you miserable for life. He knows you are in love with him and he shamelessly admits he is a coward for letting himself avoid these problems.

The energy that remains in his body is about to run out yet he could not stop stealing glimpses of you.

He lets out one last sigh for the day before he gives a quick peck on your cheeks and smiles. He quickly pushes himself to the top as he embraces your head in his arms. Glancing over the top of your head before letting himself join the night with you.

Staying in the presence with you like this keeps him satisfied even if everything around him has turned into dust.

Just you and him against this ruthless world.

Reblogs and comments are really appreciated xoxo

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kaicubus · 9 months

Text

Dating Rodrick Heffley

₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊

warnings ✩° : fluff headcanons, cursing.

pairing ✩° : rodrick heffley x fem!reader

authors note ✩° : this is so random but i was on tik tok and i saw an edit of him and i was slapped in the face with this idea!! yiPEEEEE!!!! this is the content i intended on posting when everything settled.

────────────────────────────────────────────

Your parents are convinced that Rodrick is a bad influence on you, and they're right. Being with Rodrick has changed you for the worst and for the better, he’s seen you at your lowest and your highest. But he’s proud of you no matter what happens. In fact, he’s your biggest supporter.

Being over after school every day means you bond really well with his family, and they love you since you seem to have a better influence on him than anything else. I mean, ever since you two started dating, he’s actually been doing his homework and his attendance has significantly improved. That being said, you are definitely a celebrity to Rodrick’s little brother and his friend, Greg and Rowley.

Speaking of the two, you're like their saving grace when it comes to shielding them from the teenage angst that is Rodrick—or in their eyes, the biggest bully they've ever encountered.

There have been many times where Greg tries explaining to you just how bad of a brother Rodrick is, but he never gets farther than a few words before Rodrick slams the door in his face or spills some drink he’s holding onto him.

He’s not that open to listening to your kind of music (if it’s drastically different than the kind of stuff he would listen to) but in secret...in secret he kicks his feet and twirls around imagining you doing the same thing to all the lyrics. He’s a cutie patootie when he’s not being a resentful menace.

Despite that, you spend most of your after school days in Rodrick’s bedroom, garage, or his van just talking about things or listening to him play. He plays a kind of music you never thought you’d listen to before, but have grown to like because not only does he have CDs of all his songs burned into them, but plays other music similar to that genre.

He makes multiple efforts to teach you the guitar with you on his lap and the guitar pressing you both together, but all those times Greg comes in because he wants to try and get on your good side.

If you're not there at band practice, like how you normally are, Rodrick makes all these mistakes and fumbles with playing. Since you're the designated band girlfriend, it’s pretty much a necessity for you to be around him when he practices, otherwise he gets nothing done. Sometimes it’s a problem, but for the most part, you’re like his buff.

Rodrick’s banned from your house because he tried sneaking in your room through your window, but he ended up landing on your mom’s patch of freshly bloomed flowers. When she found out, she wasn’t happy, and even though she tried so hard to excuse his looks, his lack of direction, his rebellious nature, she just couldn’t excuse the sad death of her flower children. So she banned him. Now you guys have to meet in secret or at school or his house, just anywhere not near your house.

He still makes an awkward effort to get your parents to like him, but it never really works out. He either shows up late or shows up with half his clothes missing or drenched in strange fluids because of pranks pulled by his little brother on his way out.

“Mrs. and Mr. L/n—”

“Lime green paint...on my white porch. Can you believe it, honey?”

“Just go, kid.”

“Alright!”

He gives you rides to and from school in his janky ass van, but it’s your only form of transportation so you don’t complain. Everything pretty much happens in that van. Everything.

His form of PDA is wrapping an arm around you loosely and just walking with you, not so much holding your hand. He also really likes just resting his arm on your head or squishing your cheeks together to make funny faces even if it pisses you off sometimes, he thinks it’s cute.

Free band dates!! Meaning that, you get free access to Löded Diper gigs, and the best seats watching your boyfriend and his band mates thrash around. You also get free merch...teehehehehe...

Oddly enough, Rodrick ends up turning soft for you and doing things no one in his family would expect out of him. Like taking you out on drive in dates, or getting you flowers, or just smiling more. Not saying he’s emo or edgy, but he is pretty punkish and reluctant to show any sort of affection. It certainly is off putting to Greg at least.

He asks you to do his eyeliner because you have an unlimited supply of it, and at least he doesn't have to use his mom’s anymore. People can usually tell when you do his eyeliner and when he does it himself; it’s pretty easy to differentiate.

If Rodrick doesn't want to be someplace and is dragged along by his family, the mere mention of you attending the same event makes him suddenly excited to be there. More excited than the planner. He’ll go on tangents about you, and it really doesn’t matter who’s listening. He looks all bad and mean, but as soon as someone talks about you, his face changes completely.

#kaicubus #diary of a wimpy kid #dairy of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick heffley #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley x you #headcanons #rodrick rules #rodrick heffley preferences

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princessbellecerise · 11 months

Text

With A Modern!Reader

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | How the House of the Dragon characters would react to a reader from our world

warnings | None

this is a work of fiction. i do not own these characters

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys Velaryon

Jace is surprisingly cautious. It’s not as if he’s afraid of you, you’re just so…different that it takes a while for him to even approach you

When he does, you may think he’s being hostile but really he’s just curious

He keeps his distance at first, but out of everyone he’s the first to warm up to you

He likes hearing about your world, taking walks with you and listening intensely

He thinks it’s fascinating, but more than anything Jace would be the one not afraid to truly introduce you to his world, taking you on tours, showing you around and even letting you pet his dragon while he watches you with a smile

It’s clear that the main difference between your worlds is the magic aspect, so while he’s fascinated with all your technology, you’re fascinated by his dragons and the fact that actual witches exist

Both concepts are very hard for the other to grasp, so you and Jace spend your time discussing and having fulfilling conversations, telling the other facts and details about where you’re from and enjoying every minute of it

Daemon Targaryen

Daemon is amused

He is the first to believe you when you say you’re not from his universe because my gods, it’s obvious from your clothes to your speech you obviously weren’t raised in this world

And man, he gets a kick out of watching you struggle with the social norms, often laughing and whisking you away when your mouth gets you in trouble more than once

He scoldes you and tells you that things are different where he lives, that the social customs require you to remain proper and not curse out every Lord that has something problematic to say

He’d teach you how to ‘behave’ while simultaneously encouraging you to be yourself for his own sake, because Daemon loves watching you start arguments and debates, trying to catch his people up with the modern terms you’re used to

Of course, it never works but he looks forward to it nevertheless because it makes the otherwise insufferable events that much more bearable

Lucerys Velaryon

Luke is very cautious at first. Even more so than his brother, because while you talk like you’re from more advanced times, Luke is still convinced that you’ll view and treat him the same as everyone else in his world does

It’s only when you happen to bring up the fact that you and your siblings have different dads is he really interested in what you have to say

And when you tell him that the rumors you’ve heard about him don’t matter, that nobody really cares about blood that much where you come from, will he really start to warm up to you

You’ll see a whole other side to Lucerys that no one has really seen before; he’ll open up to you and tell you all about his worries of possibly being a bastard

Likewise, you’d tell him that you relate to feeling out of place seeing as you’re not even from the world. You’re used to people gossiping about you as well and when it all becomes too much, you and Lucerys have a way of seeking comfort in one another. This caused you both to form a strong bond over your shared feelings

Aemond Targaryen

Aemond is confused

He’s perplexed, and at first he doesn’t like you because he’s never met someone that’s challenged him so much

From your clothes to your speech to your strange gadgets, everything about you is just so…weird. He doesn’t understand where you came from and why, but out of everyone he’d be the most willing to get you home

During this time, you both would more than likely bond in a sort of frenemie way

Aemond with his constant teasing of your lack of knowledge on how things worked in his world, and you because of his so called out-dated attitude

He’d be shocked when you completely disregard his status and talk to him like he’s just a regular person. You don’t see him as Prince Aemond, just the Aemond that’s slightly stuck-up; which you also never fail to remind him.

You’re just so casual with how you interact and joke with him. And over time, Aemond finds himself more and more attached to you. Because by gods, all he’s ever wanted was for someone to appreciate him for him, and not because of his title or standings in the world

And you being you, you don’t really care about any of that and he can’t begin to explain how grateful he is that the universe decided to send you to him, even growing to be sad and a little more hesitant when it’s time to send you home

Aegon Targaryen

Aegon is fascinated

Less so by you and more so of the world that you left behind. And even more so of the trinkets that somehow came over with you

In all his life, Aegon had never met someone that had things that he didn’t. After all—he was a prince and that meant he usually had the best of the best

But you? You have things he’d never even dreamed of having. Like glasses that block out the light (perfect for his hangovers) and medicine to also help with the aftermaths of his drinking

He’s so fascinated when the guards empty your bag, never once hesitating to pick up your strange stuff and demand to know what it does

Of course, you have to tell him to chill out a little bit and that his title doesn’t really matter to you because you’re not from his world

And Aegon is perplexed, and honestly slightly jealous that he can’t control you, nor can he compete with all the technology that you have

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Out of everyone, she is the most understanding of your situation

When you first arrive, Rhaenyra takes you under her wing and never once makes you feel like an outsider. She’s a little bit hesitant, sure, but it’s really not all that hard to believe you

She’ll listen to you and when you need help, she’s always there to offer her aid

With her around, it’s super easy to understand the world that you’ve landed into. After all, Rhaenyra is happy to show you the ropes herself and fill you in on all the ways you have to act in order to survive in her world

You quickly become grateful for her presence because it helps to soothe all of the rumors and questions people may ask about you. After all, she’s no stranger to them herself

And with one look from the princess/future Queen, people are bowing their heads and running off, leaving their intrusive words abandoned

#hotd #hotd x reader #hotd headcanon #house of the dragon #jacaerys valaryon x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #lucerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader

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yokohamapound · 4 months

Note

How about some angsty HCs?? 😏

How would Kunikida, Dazai, Fukuzawa, Chuuya and Fyodor (or anyone else you’d like too) react to their s/o taking a hit for them that would have otherwise been fatal if they didn’t?? S/o ends up being okay but the gentlemen are all angsty in the meantime >:)

Thanks so much lovely! 🥰💕

Hello, my lovely! It's been a while since I wrote some good old angst, so this scratched an itch. I hope these are what you are looking for!

Characters: Nakahara Chuuya, Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Fukuzawa Yukichi, Kunikida Doppo

Contents: death mentions, suicide mentions, controlling behaviour, anger issues

Nakahara Chuuya

Ooh, it’s kinda difficult for him to deal with? He’s in two minds about it, really.

On one hand, he’s strong enough that whatever blow was being dealt to him really wouldn’t have hurt him that much, or so he tells himself. All he can think about is that moment where the bullet/bomb/fireball, whatever it is, was coming toward you. Yes, you survived it, but he had to live through the nanoseconds of absolute hell when he thought he was just about to see another person he cares about die right before his eyes.

His temper erupts afterward. He’s furious, yelling at you that you “didn’t fuckin’ need to do that!” You’d be forgiven for thinking that it’s his pride you’ve hurt, but it’s anger born of worry. Those few moments he thought you were going to die were harrowing for him.

Imagine if he carelessly lost the person he loves the most, just because he was too slow or too stupid to see it coming? Shit, he could never live with himself if that happened.

However, there’s the other side of the coin. Which is that you cared about him enough to intercept a blow aimed at him. Chuuya can’t remember the last time someone did that for him. He’s used to being the tank, to soaking up all the violence so the geniuses can get on with their schemes. He doesn’t really know how to handle someone trying to protect him, like he’s something vulnerable.

He likes it and he doesn’t. He’s grateful and he’s pissed. Chuuya’s a complicated creature.

Once he’s done yelling and has calmed down a little, he’ll mutter something that sounds like a ‘thank you’, though he says it with his eyes mulishly averted and one arm wrapped tightly around your waist. He won’t be letting you out of his sight for a while, even while he’s being a grouch.

Dazai Osamu

While he might not show it on the surface, this has a rather profound effect on Dazai. Remember the last time someone he loved died in front of him?

While he pretends to be calm on the surface, inside he’s in turmoil. He should have seen it coming; you’re the self-sacrificing sort, always trying to save him in one or another. But before now, it hasn’t been literal.

I feel like time moves very slowly for someone as fast as Dazai. He was able to process far too much information in those few seconds you were in danger. All of his mistakes, laid out for him as plain as day.

He tends to convince himself that he can plan around every kind of incident but this is a start reminded that this isn’t always the case.

“Hey, bella?” His tone is unusually serious. His hand on your shoulder. “I’m going to need you not to do that again. Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you die in front of me.”

If you pay close attention, you’ll notice Dazai doesn’t make any more double suicide jokes after that. They don’t have the same appeal. Dazai doesn’t think he could stand to watch you die, even if you did want to join him.

He keeps a close watch on you after that, turning up unexpectedly throughout your day without any explanation, his lanky form popping up like a weed.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

While he will never, ever reveal it, this will shake Fyodor’s iron-clad ego a little bit. He likes to think he is in control of everything, and he can predict every single action of yours down to the blink. For whatever reason, he didn’t foresee you getting in his way and taking a hit meant for him.

You gain an element of unpredictability, which is both intriguing and alarming for him.

There is also the fact that you stepped in to take a hit for him. While he’s used to having underlings who look up to him like a god (Ivan), he doesn’t count you amongst the peons. He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, but in a way that promotes adoration and obedience, not self-sacrificing recklessness. He’ll have to step back and examine your relationship somewhat.

“My darling, what was the meaning of that?” he asks of you, his tone soft and a little dangerous. “I do not need you flinging yourself in the path of danger for me. I have everything in hand.”

He likes your devotion, but he doesn’t want you getting in the way of his plans. And he does care about you, love you in his own way—he doesn’t want to lose something he sees as his.

If you were injured at all, he will have the best private doctors on hand to treat you. Be prepared for his love and attention to be a little stifling for a while. He won’t want to let you out of his sight.

As for the person whose attack you foiled? Fyodor will turn the full weight of his enormous intellect to destroying them. They were dead the moment their attack came near something he cares about.

Fukuzawa Yukichi

Fukuzawa is very much the self-sacrificing sort. He’s said more than once that he doesn’t mind giving up his life in order to ensure peace in Yokohama, or to protect the lives of the younger members of the agency. He’s heavily bound by duty.

While he holds these values to himself, he doesn’t expect you to abide by the same code. In fact, he doesn’t want you to. You’re not a grizzled old samurai like him. (His words, not yours.)

He also heavily dislikes the idea that you were in danger because of him. Your relationship with him shouldn’t be a source of danger for you. As soon as he’s sure you’re safe and well, he will sit back and mull things over in his silent, intense way. He considers all options, from simply killing the person who tried to attack him, to ending your relationship with him to ensure your safety.

Thankfully, he comes to the conclusion that you are an adult who knows what is good for you. He’s never hidden the truth from you, and if you’re willing to face that to stand at his side, then Fukuzawa needs to respect that. He can’t make your decisions for you.

“However,” he says. “I must ask that you do not do that again. I can accept my own death, but not yours.”

“Don’t you trust me to watch your back?”

“Obviously, you can be trusted,” he says. “Today is evidence enough, but know that I could not live with myself if you were injured or killed looking out for me. If death is coming for me, I have earned it.”

He can’t really be talked out of this mindset, but that’s part of why you fell for him in the first place. Just make him a promise that you won’t put yourself at risk on his behalf.

Kunikida Doppo

Poor Kunikida.

One of his ideals is that he will never watch anyone die right in front of him if he can help it. The last time he had to watch an innocent person die, it almost shattered his psyche.

If you were to die in front of him, it would break him utterly. Even though you’re fine, the close shave rattles him down to his core. Instead of blowing his top and then settling down, the way you’re used to him doing, Kunikida becomes grim and quiet.

He refuses to step away from your bedside while you’re in the hospital for a check-up after the incident. His notebook of ideals is folded in his pocket, ignored. The fact he isn’t scribbling anything down is a little alarming. He’s not Kunikida if he’s not adding little notes to it every five minutes. He has his hands steepled together, his face grim behind his glasses.

“Are you going to yell at me?” you ask him.

Kunikida lifts his gaze to you, almost as if he’s surprised to hear you speak. He breaks out of his reverie a little bit, sitting up and pushing his glasses further up his nose. The light hits the lenses, hiding his expression from you a little. His voice is sombre.

“I must thank you for saving my life,” he tells you, almost formal.

“That’s not the only thing bothering you, is it?” You know him well enough by now. You reach out and take one of his hands.

Kunikida fingers tighten around yours, trembling slightly. It’s the only way that you can see how completely off centre he is.

“Kunikida?”

“Don’t…don’t make me worry like that again. Please.”

#yokohama pound #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd imagines #bsd headcanons #Nakahara Chuuya #Fyodor Dostoevsky #Dazai Osamu #Fukuzawa Yukichi #Kunikida Doppo #Chuuya x Reader #Dazai x Reader #Kunikida x Reader #Fukuzawa x Reader #Fyodor x Reader #angst

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just-another-author-i-guess · 1 year

Note

so like, I don't know the extent of what you write, but if you're ok with it, smutty/spicy head canons for Marshall x Reader? or, alternatively, if you don't write that stuff, first date HC? 💛

Anything for you <3 I’ve been wanting to make a smut for him for soooo long so dw about it

Tags: fem! Reader, smut, obviously, blood, general vampire stuff?, semi-public sex, also they do it unprotected, don’t do that irl pls, Marshall has a big dick 😊✋, this is not nearly as bad as my Judd smuts dw, I wanted to write minors dni but who am I kidding they’re gonna read this anyways 🧍🏻

Summary: idk, porn?

Author’s note: I have returned! Ngl I’ve been thinking of this request for so long, I was so giddy to write it lol 🤭🤭 I hope it’s okay, I feel like I need to work more with Marshall as a character lol but nonetheless I really enjoyed writing this. Eat up, children!

Marshall smut headcannons

Word count; 2,6K

Smut under the cut!

He is SUCH a tease, omg

Will tease you for hours, days if he’s in the right mood for it

(which is most of the time, because he’s a little shit)

He will act so coy about it as well; getting you to the brim of an orgasm MULTIPLE times or touching you in a way that he knows will turn you on and then just,,, get up and leave

Oh, just a moment ago he was grinding you on his thigh and whispering the lewdest of lewd things into your ear? Too bad, now he’s up and going to get ice cream from the mart

He loves to tease you in public too, more than anything in fact

You’re drinking tea with Prince Gumball? Marshall got bored and thought it was funny to shove his hand under your skirt and into your panties, only to loudly point out how flustered you are

Would go; “Oh, jeez. Y/n you don’t look so fresh, you okay there, babe?”

If his cold fingers gently rubbing your clit didn’t feel so damn good, you’d definitely have kicked him

Instead, though, you clasp a hand over your mouth and nod vigorously

“Y-yes! Marshall, I’m just fine. Thanks,” You’d grit out, but the rest of your audience would find it hard to believe

Gumball, bless the man, would insist you lay down for a while and grant you a guest room in the castle

Bingo. Marshall’s plan fell through exactly how he wanted it to

The Prince would quickly find out you’re fine, though, when the both of you return like 20 minutes later with mussed hair and you sporting a few bite marks that definitely weren’t present before

Gumball would scold Marshall more than you, calling him something along the lines of “a hungry wild beast” while just telling you he thought you were better at controlling your urges lmfao

Marshall is definitely quite the exhibitionist, however

The two of you have fucked everywhere, all places in Aaa you could think off

Unfortunately for Gumball, that means his castle has been subject to this quite a lot since he’s got A TON of secret rooms

Marshall is more respectful at Fionna and Cake’s house though, he only convinced you to do it so much at the Candy Kingdom because he likes pissing Gumball off

But on the topic of Marshall’s exhibitionism, he really likes getting you to be loud too

It’s almost like he wants to be caught 😀✋

He’ll drag you around a corner or to the bathroom of a dingy bar or something and make you scream louder than you ever have in your life

This is not so much a problem in the Nightosphere (yes, you have fucked there too) because I imagine there’s a lot of screaming sounds going on there anyways

And either way, no one would dare disturb their Prince in his,, private activities

He’d also really like to drink your blood while fucking

Usually, he barely asks for it, only if he’s very sick or wounded because otherwise he just drinks the color of red

But when he’s buried inside you and your nails are scratching up his back, he feels just that tad bit more animalistic

Sometimes he won’t even ask ):

Only because he knows you know he would never genuinely hurt you

But if he’s already kissing and lapping at your neck, it’s soooo hard not to go that extra mile and sink his teeth in

And your blood is heavenly to him

Much better than drinking colours all the time fr

Ngl, your period would be love making season for him

Sometimes, just the faintest smell of your blood is enough to get him sporting a boner

But when it’s coming from you so steadily and from a place he already loves burying his face and nose in? Man’s a goner

Please just,,, let him eat you out 🙏

He doesn’t even understand how you could find it gross, when it’s literally free blood he can drink from you without puncturing your skin

He also LOVES making you cum, and get that taste of your blood mixed with cum.. mmm delicious 🤭🤭

Honestly, he kinda acts like he’s in heat on the week of your period

But yk, orgasms makes the cramps go away, or so they say

So take it like a champ lol

He’ll fuck you in his bed, mostly

His couch is kinda stuffy and hard bc he never uses it, only you and sometimes your friends when they come over does

His bed is also nice and large, very good for violent vampire sex

But let me present to you, an even better option; his bed in the Nightosphere

Idc his mom tries ok, and has a bedroom set up for him there

And it’s decorated very posh and such, but the bed is even better for a good round of fucking

No okay but he rarely takes you there because when he does his mom is bugging the two of you for grandkids so hard—

I’m honestly not sure if it’s even physically possible, but hey, his mom just wants a cute little grand baby 🫶🫶

Anyways

As I stated before, Marshall is a man who thoroughly enjoys foreplay

He’ll have you writhing and gasping before even filling you with his dick;

His head was hung low, eyes focused on the spot where your bare pussy was dragging against the denim of his jeans. He tensed his thigh, corners of his mouth quirking up as he caught sound of your breath hitching.

You sniffled, softly whining his name and trying to rut yourself faster against him.

He looked up fully, fangs escaping his complacent smile and gently resting on his lower lip

“Wow. You’re so greedy, baby,” He ‘tsked’, playfully scolding you.

His hands kept their iron grip on your hips, rocking you back and forth slowly and dictating exactly how much pressure you got to feel on your throbbing clit each time

You tried to glare at him, but then suddenly he was bouncing his leg and your glare became a sultry pout as you cried out for him

Unusually, you were sitting on his couch this time around

He had started by tricking you into watching a movie, clearly with other intentions in mind, but you fell right into his trap and happily obliged when he pulled you to his lap

Cold breath ghosted over your neck as he had slowly inched his fingers into your sleeping shorts, edging you until you were completely cross eyed and just about to cum only to pull away and situate you on his thigh instead

He had turned you around to face him, so he could observe your pitiful expressions as he kept giving you more but never enough

He thoroughly enjoyed it, and now you had been subject to his cruel torture for nearly two hours

He continued bouncing you, leaning in to get a long sniff of your neck

You felt his long, wet tongue lap up and down right in the crook of your neck and his already tight grip on your hips became bruising

He groaned softly, fangs lightly scraping your soft skin

“Not fair,” he slurred. “You smell so fucking good.”

You pushed yourself more into him, hands moving from his shoulders to the back of his head to cradle him against your neck

With your fingers gently treading through his black hair, you barely managed to whisper; “T-take what you need, then.”

Well aware that Marshall had now also fallen for his own trap, he complied easily

He lifted you slightly with his arm around your waist, settling you to now grind on the bulge in his pants instead as his two fangs pierced your skin

The feeling of his straining, but clothed, cock against your core was enough to momentarily distract you from the warm pain and pinch of Marshall’s bite

With one hand locked around your waist, the other came to the back of your head to angle you to his liking, leaving your lower half to its own devices

Maybe he was right when calling you greedy, because you instantly took the opportunity to sit down on his crotch

His clothed dick spread your folds slightly, the zipper of his pants pressing on your clit and you moaned loudly— finally getting enough stimulation

Marshall’s pupils were blown wide as he lapped up your blood, clutching you to him as tightly as he could without breaking your back as he started rutting his own ups up into you

If felt heavenly, you quickly got used to his fangs in your skin and the full throb became somewhat of a pleasant ache in your neck

Too caught up in his meal, he barely noticed when you came all over his pants, slick coating your inner thighs and now spilling over his crotch as well

You whined loudly as you came, panting out a never ending mantra of your boyfriends name and shuddering all over from the intense fell of it all

You clawed at his scalp, desperate for some kind of stability as you finally came down a bit

However, Marshall was still rutting into you, with no intention of stopping, keeping the fire in your belly raging even though you just came

When he finally managed to pull away from your neck, lower face and cheeks smeared with blood, he wasted no time unbuckling his jeans

You cried out in relief when he lifted you again, lining you up with his long, pale cock, completely stiff and leaking

The drunkenly satisfied meal that escaped you when he finally nudged into you was music to his ears

After hours of waiting, you ached to feel him stretching your walls

He shuddered at the feeling, too, your gummy walls always fit him so snuggly he was surprised he could even fit inside

Your previous orgasm along with the drawn out teasing had made you beyond sensitive, your head was spinning, mouth parting in delirious moans as you finally, finally felt the fullness of his dick inside you

He hissed when you gently rocked yourself against him, walls fluttering around his cock. “Easy there,” he breathed, mouth returning to that smug smile he bore before, this time coated in blood. “Aren’t you gonna be a good girl?”

You whined helplessly, hugging him to you and burrowing your face in the crook of his neck

He felt you nod against him in confirmation, gently licking at his skin and biting at his shirt to keep yourself sane

He leaned back on the couch, cradling you to his chest and starting a slow and torturous pace of his hips

You moaned each time he buckled upwards, meeting his thrust with a desperate one of your own

He breathed out a laugh. “You’re so goddamn wet, it’s all over my pants, sweetheart.” He commented condescendingly, nuzzling your hair with his bloodied face

It got in your hair, it was also still leaking from your neck but you didn’t care

All you could manage was a small huff in response against Marshall’s collarbone, clutching his T-shirt in your hands

His statement was true, though

You were absolutely leaking on his cock, it dribbled down his shaft, creating a small puddle underneath you on his pants and the couch

Gently, you lifted your head to mouth at his neck, then his jaw

“More.” You muttered, your voice cracked slightly and it came as a whisper, but you knew Marshall’s supernatural senses would pick up on it anyways

He cackled in response. “You can handle more?”

Vigorously you nodded and before you could even register it, Marshall had you on your back on the couch

You looked up at him hazily, fingers trailing the few marks you had left on his neck, all of which was already beginning to heal

He leaned down to kiss you as he started pounding into you, making the couch shake and knock against the table besides it with each movement

He hoisted your leg up, bringing the left one over his shoulder and dove into you deeper, enough to make you feel him all the way in your lower belly

When he was done kissing you, leaving you breathless and your lips swollen, he nosed down your neck until he found his bite marks and resumed his feasting

You tightened and fluttered around him, flailing as the liquid flames in your belly grew until they became almost unbearable

You tried pleading with Marshall, but all that came out of your mouth was incoherent mewls of his name or loud moans

He was close too, you could tell by the way he was clutching you, his demon-like nails had grown and was leaving small cuts and indents where he was holding you

He groaned into you, deeply and animalistic and it vibrated through your whole body in the most pleasant of tingling sensations

That was enough to tip you over the edge, and without warning you creamed on his dick, walls fluttering and constricting so tightly around him he almost found it hard to pull back out

He took a sharp intake of air, departing from your neck for only a moment to glance down and watch the way your pussy was milking him

He moaned a little at the sight, licking his lips and picking up speed

You could only just lay there as his thrust became inhumane, you knew he was holding back when you two fucked, but it never failed to surprise you when he took use of some of his actual strength

Something in the sofa cracked, the sound of wood splitting barely reaching your sex-drunk mind as Marshall fucked you rough and fast

His own thrusts became somewhat sloppy as he used you to chase his end, he watched your face intently, eyebrows knitted in concentration

When you finally opened your eyes, locking eyes with him and presenting him with the most fucked-out expression he had ever seen you hold, he came

He didn’t bother to pull out, instead he held your hips tightly to his, releasing his load inside you

You softly sighed in delight, body numb and heavy

It took a while for him to pull out, but when he finally did, he went straight to nuzzling into you again

He hugged you closely, supporting you against his chest as he sat up, lifted his hips and pulled his pants back up

Marshall is surprisingly good at aftercare, I mean, after all that teasing he better be treating you right after

He’s always very cuddly, and makes sure to clean you up properly after

He starts with you always, his own needs come in seconds after he’s done with you

He’s looking at you all lovestruck and starry eyed too, with a goofy lil smile on his face, adorable

He tugs you against him, preferably in his bed, and helps you clean up the puncture wounds with his tongue and a wet towel

Awe, he’s so cute (,:

He just wants to make you feel loved 🥰🥰

Especially cause he knows humans are not build for the kinda sex he’s build for, he’s always a bit scared he’s breached your limits too much or exhausted too much

And I mean, yes, he has, but you thoroughly enjoy it so..

No okay I know I just said he’s soft in the post-but clarity, but sometimes he can also be a teasing little shit

Depending on how loud he made you moan or how much he got you to embarrass yourself

In the instance above, he’s pretty soft, but don’t be fooled, man’s is a demon after all 🫢

He’s so hot pls 🥲✋

He’s been needing his own smut for so long too oml,,, I hope you enjoyed it.

Sorry this is also not as fluffy as a first date thing would be, but if it’s something y’all want I could write something about that too. Thanks for the read! 🙏

#marshall lee x reader #marshall lee #marshall lee hc #smut hcs #adventure time x reader #fionna and cake #adventure time #help this is a kids show why am I writing smut about it

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ayaboba · 6 months

Text

DAY 5: KEEP THINKING OF ME ❅⋆⍋

summary: when you ‘forget’ to kiss him goodbye.

characters: alhaitham, lyney, neuvillette, xiao.

notes: i have this weird thing of progressively making the paragraphs longer than the previous, wanted to try a different format, gn! reader. wc: 160 - 200 per character.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist

alhaitham

Let’s be honest, he’d remind you.

Alhaitham is attentive to detail, fairly organised when it comes to routine, and certainly notices when something that ties his hasty mornings together is forgotten. He likes to say the work of a scribe is so endlessly dreary that he should be at least deserving of some reward. Preferably, though not outwardly stated, affection in the form of a tender kiss of your silken lips, brisk, energetic or longing, he’s not fussy.

Alhaitham believes that your affection is one of the only divine cures that could possibly be the remedy to the multitude of poisons inflicting his sanity. You find it a little funny; who knew the Akedemiya’s renowned scribe and former Acting Grand Sage could be so dramatic?

So, when you do forget to kiss him before he exits the door, he makes sure to mention it, makes sure that you won’t forget the next morning, because otherwise, the Akedemiya would have to deal with a missing employee.

lyney

The thing with Lyney is…he probably had more than plenty before he even reached this dilemma.

Throughout the day, from the first sunbeams to the final streaks of moonlight, he was quite bold when it came to the showers of love he craved most frequently. In truth, Lyney considers a day terribly incomplete if he hasn’t been exposed to the warm feelings of your beloved affection. He sincerely promises you that the simple regret doesn’t leave his mind, despite all the distractions he hopes to divert his thoughts revolving madly around you. Something that beautiful should never go overlooked.

Depending on the cruciality of the situation, he’d turn back and come knocking on your door with such a solemn expression that you’d assume that someone had died. The question would arise, his voice uncertain and curious, “Did you forget something important this morning?”

The best option would be to just give him that precious kiss. You don’t want him to do anything too extreme for it, do you?

neuvillette

Did he upset you the night before?

Neuvillette’s knowledge of the complexities of human emotions and responses was, in comparison to anyone else, a little rusty, he admits. That, of course, does not stop him from trying. The often ‘lost in his thoughts’ face the people of Fontaine regularly noticed about him was merely Neuvillette grasping in the elements of human nature, for to deeply understand them was essential if he ever planned on living alongside them.

The lighthearted experiment was just to see how he would react—a small prank, you convince yourself—but perhaps, just maybe, the chief justice had sincerely thought you were mad at him.

You haven’t seen him all day.

Neuvillette seems to have abandoned the customary meeting spots you’d typically bump into him, and that’s when you know.

The idea of putting the blame on himself, making up some complicated scenario that was certainly not true, elicits a newfound determination to make it up to him, to apologise with the compensation of the truth.

That evening, you wait for the door to open, and when it does, you ensure the person entering is gifted the sincere caress of your lips—a few more than what he expects.

xiao

Xiao would continue on with his day. He’s fine, thank you for asking. So what if you forgot to kiss him goodbye?

However, it would be a downright lie to assume that he was 100% veritably unaffected. Xiao was never particularly good at masking emotions, but rather more skilled at intensifying them.

He’ll ponder and wonder; the same question answered with the same reply, repeating like a lament, carving into the inconsolable space of his mind. In other words, Xiao is sulking and in brutal denial of it.

You observe him from the distance, standing on the tip of a faraway mountain, and there’s a strong feeling that he’s gazing at you, too.

Call out my name, he almost begs, a foolish excuse to inexplicably confront you.

The sound of your voice summons him instantly; it breaks him out of his trance, and what you say next cuts through all the tragic thoughts he ever contemplated beforehand.

“I forgot to kiss you this morning,” you smile, playfully apologetic. “Did you realise?”

Xiao doesn’t say anything, there’s nothing to be said, but his actions prove all that needs to be said—how the corners of his lips tug just the bit upwards as he leans into you.

#genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #lyney x reader #neuvillette x reader #xiao x reader #anya writes ✧.*

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starogeorgina · 9 days

Text

𝐊𝐞𝐩𝐚

Paring: Daemon Targaryen × reader, Harwin Strong x reader, Criston Cole x reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut, child birth

1.03

You blink away unshed tears as you stare up at Ser Harwin; the look on his face was earth-shattering. No traces of anger or bitterness could be detected on his handsome face; the softness in his eyes made you feel nothing but guilt. You should never have believed the rumors, given into your husband's taunting or gone near Criston Cole.

You’re unaware that you’re crying until Harwin wipes them away with the pads of his thumb. “Prince Daemon told me your news; congratulations, princess.” He leans forward and kisses your forehead, and in a quiet voice, he says, “He also told me what he said to you. I wish I’d known sooner.”

Ser Harwin wasn’t a fool; he knew his beloved princess’s outburst of believing the rumors surrounding him and Princess Rhaenyra being true hadn’t come from thin air, but he had no idea Daemon was the one behind it. The Targaryen prince thrived in chaos, but after causing so much damage, the knight was grateful to be away from the keep for some time; otherwise, he might have done something to get himself executed.

“Do you forgive me?”

Harwin sighs, “There’s nothing to forgive. It was a misunderstanding.”

Pouting, you shake your head. “I should never have doubted you... henujagon īlva, valzȳrys.” (Leave us, husband.)

You wait until you hear Daemon leave; he didn’t need to be involved in your conversation, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist if he was within earshot. You take Harwin’s large hand in yours and say, “I love my husband; he’s the other half of me. Targaryens are made to burn together, but I love you too. I don’t know how to explain it; it’s a different kind of love. Since I was a girl, I always knew I’d marry Daemon, regardless of how I felt, but I chose to be with you. You make me feel safe and—”

“What is it you’re trying to tell me?” Harwin wipes away another fallen tear. “I’ve memorized each time you’ve confessed your love to me, which is how I know something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I don’t know whose baby this is. I forgot to drink moon tea after the last time we lay together.”

His blue eyes fill with tears. “Prince Daemon will be the father.”

“I’m sorry.”

Your heart aches a little when Harwin hugs you; he was a good man. A far better person than you, Daemon, or Criston. He wasn’t selfish, violent, or entitled. You only wish you’d never questioned his loyalty to begin with.

“There’s something else I need to tell you.”

—

As the months passed, your body changed, and the gorgeous gowns you had made could no longer hide how large your bump had gotten. Rhaenyra often thought you were carrying more than one baby when your bump first started to swell, but now you were convinced she was right.

Daemon smooths his hand gently over the fabric of your dress, feeling the baby kick beneath. You were comfortable laying on your left side with multiple pillows fluffed around you to keep you in that position. Your husband lay behind you with his face nuzzling into the side of your neck.

“Have you spoken much with Ser Harwin?”

“No,” you say, feeling your lip tremble slightly. “Perhaps it is for the best; the less he is near during my pregnancy, the less people will talk.”

Daemon kisses your cheek. “The baby could look exactly like us, and the Greens would still gossip. I suspect the same will happen with Rhaenyra as soon as she has an heir.”

Your sister and her husband, Ser Laenor, had gone to visit various houses in the realm on behalf of your father, who was too ill to travel the distance himself. Although they had gone on dragonback, a large number of knights, including Ser Harwin, had been sent to protect them. When you confessed your antics with Cole to Ser Harwin, he was mad for a while but insisted he still wanted to be with you; he just needed some time.

“And what if the baby doesn’t look like us?” You knew no matter what, you’d love and protect your child fiercely, but you needed reassurance from Daemon. “I’ve been beyond foolish; I’ve given them the opportunity to make my child’s life miserable before they are even born.”

“I will cut out the tongues of anyone who dares question the legitimacy of our child. Any baby you have will be an extension of you; it would be impossible for me not to love them.” He rubs his hand along your stomach again. “This is my son or daughter growing inside you. Nothing anyone says will change that.”

—

“Princess, it’s time to push again.”

“I can’t! I can’t!” You sob, clutching onto the bed sheets tightly. The pain was overwhelming; you were convinced this is what dying felt like.

“Push!”

The midwives help guide you through the last few pushes until your daughter finally enters the room. She is placed on your chest, and you sob with happiness, “She’s perfect—oh fuck.”

Your daughter is quickly carried away to be cleaned up as the midwife pushes your legs open again. “Time to do this second time, princess.”

—

Daemon hums while gently rocking your daughter Daella to sleep, while your son Gaemon suckles at your breast. They were only a few hours old, but it already felt like you'd spent a lifetime loving them.

“Perhaps when you are feeling up to it, we can pick dragon eggs for the baby’s.”

You smile and say, “That would be nice.”

With Syrax having laid another clutch of dragon eggs, you were on your way to the dragon pit to pick one while being accompanied by your husband and sworn protector, but before you could leave the courtyard, your waters broke. Ser Harwin immediately picked you up and carried you back to your chambers, while Daemon sent for the maester and midwives.

“There, there,” Daemon says before gently placing your daughter into the crib next to your bed.

You smile down at her. Daella shares your pale complexion; her silver hair and the shade of her purple eyes were an exact match for yours. Gaemon got almost all his features from you, like his sister; his skin was pale and his hair silver, except his eyes were a dark brown.

“I think he’s had his feed,” you say when Gaemon stops feeding and his eyelids slowly start to close.

Daemon takes him from your arms so you can readjust your nightgown. He kisses the baby on the forehead. “They really are perfect.”

—

Sitting underneath the weirwood tree, she smiles as Daella attempts to walk along one of the thick roots sticking out of the ground, with your loyal knight Ser Harwin right behind her, ready to catch her the second she slips. Gaemon lays back, his head resting against your legs, as you read a story about dragons out loud. Both eggs had hatched in the cradle, and your children were now getting to the age where they understood how powerful and magical dragons are.

“Careful, princess,” Harwin says softly. “Slow down before you fall.”

Daella grins up at the knight before jumping onto a different root. It wouldn’t be long before curiosity got the better of her, and she attempted to climb the tree.

When screeching comes from the distance, Gaemon points to the sky and says, “Mama, look! It’s kepa!”

You look up and see the Blood Wyrm flying in the direction of the dragonpit. Daemon always made a point of returning from dragon riding before supper time so he could dine with his family. When you lower your gaze from the sky, you are met with the cold gaze of Ser Criston Cole. You often notice the knight observing your son and daughter from a distance, but he makes no attempt to interact with them.

Although Cole would never admit it, you had a feeling he would risk his life for them just as Daemon and Harwin would.

—

Harwin takes one of the pebbled nipples into his mouth while you lean over him, your hands pressing against his chest. Daemon kisses the back of your neck, occasionally nipping at your sensitive skin with his teeth as he thrusts into you from behind. Over time, the three of you had come to an agreement that when the time came and you wished to have another baby, you and Harwin couldn’t fuck as you normally would, eliminating any chances of him getting you pregnant since you wouldn’t be drinking moon tea. But you still wanted to be intimate with Harwin, and your ever-devoted husband came up with an idea.

Daemon’s voice is cocky as he says, “So, Ser Harwin, how do you feel about our princess taking what she wants from us at the same time?”

Harwin grins. “Do you think you could take both of us?”

“Yes, I want you both.”

“Greedy girl!” Daemon smacks your ass.

Your heart races with anticipation at the thought of having both of them inside you at the same time. You're used to making love to them both, but this would feel different—more intimate, more primal. Harwin and Daemon had mutual respect for one another, but they mainly bonded over how much they loved your little family.

Your husband chuckles softly, his warm breath caressing your ear. “You’ll get what you desire, my love. I’ve bet you’ve thought about this plenty of times before, haven’t you?”

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you nod.

A princess is desperate to feel her husband and lover fill her up at the same time.

Daemon slowly withdraws his shaft from your cunny, leaving you aching for more. He sits down on the bed beside Harwin, but before you have the chance to move over to his lap, the knight hooks his hands under your thighs and pulls you up until you are hovering over his face. Not wasting time, Harwin starts flicking at your sensitive clit with his tongue.

Daemon smirks as he listens to your whine. He had already ‘prepared’ both your holes before Harwin joined you in the bedchamber. After coming apart on Harwin’s lips, Daemon gently pulls the small cock-shaped object from your anus, then pulls you onto his lap so you are facing him, and slides his cock into your cunny again.

He leans back and pulls you down with him, gripping your shoulders and spreading them while Harwin readjusts himself behind you. The thought of having them both causes your clitoral area to throb, “Please.”

Harwin guides his thick cock to where you’re aching for him. With a gentle nudge, he pushes past your resistance and enters your tight hole. You gasp as he fills you completely. The sensation of having them both inside you is foreign and exhilarating. Harwin begins to rock his hips gently, slowly pulling them out before pushing them back in again, while Daemon thrusts upwards at a harsher pace.

“How does it feel? Daemon asks, pinching your nipple between his fingers. “Good as you imagined?”

“So, so good.”

Your mind becomes hazy with pleasure when one of them starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. You come apart, squeezing both of them tightly. Harwin shoots his seed inside you, then Daemon follows shortly after, coating your cunny in his seed, which he will hopefully take.

The knight slowly pulls you out, then brushes your sweaty hair out of your face and kisses you deeply. Daemon smirks, “Take your time catching your breath, my good knight, as we will be here all night.”

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7ndipity · 7 months

Text

Let Me Love You

Jungkook x Plus Size Reader

Summary: When your friend Jungkook confesses his feelings, you ghost him, despite your own feelings for him, fearing that the relationship will end in disaster. Can he convince you otherwise?

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Angsty, mentions of anxiety and body insecurities, swearing, suggestive, only partially proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I wanted to post this last night, but I was super tired and fell asleep(I’m still sick lol). Also, part of this is based on a dream I had and couldn’t get out of my head, so sorry if it feels a little random.

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The noise and lights of the party had been almost overwhelming, even around the pool, where some of you had separated off, a few even deciding to brave the cold water to swim.

“Wanna take a dip?” He’d asked as you sat tucked off to the side together, letting your feet hang over the water, leaning in close to hear each other.

“I don’t have a suit.” You’d replied.

“You won’t hear me complaining.” He’d smirked, making you roll your eyes before quickly dropping your attention to the drink in your hand, trying to hide the growing heat in your cheeks.

Jungkook had always been a notorious flirt, especially when it came to you, never missing an opportunity to make some sly comment that would have your face burning, much to his amusement, though you doubted he realized the full effect his words had on you. You’d never shared your feelings for him or your long standing crush, knowing he wouldn’t be into a plus size person like you, and had just focused on maintaining your friendship instead.

“Well, I’m going in.” His voice pulled you out of your thoughts, glancing up just in time to see him yank his jacket off and slip in, allowing the water to come up over his head for a moment before resurfacing with a gasp, shaking his head at you like a dog.

“You’re insane.” You commented, laughing.

“You love it.” He said, catching hold of your arm to help pull him out of the water.

“You’re getting me wet!” You squealed, trying to skooch away from him, but he trailed after you, making you both laugh until you were stuck in the corner.

Jungkook’s laughter trailed off, expression suddenly turning serious as he looked up at you. “I wanna try something.” He said.

“What is it?” You asked warily.

Rather than answering, he braced his hands on either side of you, boosting himself up and pressing his mouth briefly to yours.

You froze, staring at him wide-eyed as he pulled away and sank back down.

“What was-?”

“I like you, y/n,” He said quickly. “I want to be with you.”

“I-I-” Your head felt like it was spinning as you stared at him, nearly nodding before reality suddenly began to seep back in, filling your veins like cement.

“I-I’m, I can’t, I’m sorry.” You were scrambling to your feet before you had fully gotten the words out, leaving him staring after you in confusion as you pushed your way through the crowd to escape.

That’d been three days ago, and since then, you hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to him.

You knew dodging his calls and texts was far from a proper solution to your current predicament, but you couldn’t come up with any better ideas, mind still in absolute chaos at the sudden revelation.

Despite your efforts to push it away, memories of the night kept playing on loop in your head, the way he’d looked at you, the feel of his lips on yours.

You couldn’t believe it, the guy of your dreams told you he was into you, and you ran away. Brillant.

You shook your head, slowly dragging yourself out of bed and making your way to the kitchen in search of coffee.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with him, you did, more than you cared to admit to even yourself, but in the back of your mind, there were those same nagging voices that had held you back from confessing in the first place. As a bigger person, you’d experienced more than your share of mistreatment and let downs connecting to your size, only further feeding into your insecurities that you weren’t good enough. And although Jungkook had never given you a reason to feel that way with him, you still couldn’t shake that deep seeded fear that, if you said yes to him, one day he would wake up and realize that his feelings had changed, that the attraction he thought was there wasn’t really, not in the way he originally believed, and you would end up losing one of the most important people in your life. You couldn’t handle that, you couldn’t afford to lose him, it would kill you.

You were shook out of your thoughts by an insistent knock on your front door.

“Who is it?” You called, cautiously making your way over, glancing at the clock and noting that it was only 7:30 in the morning.

“Y/n?” Your stomach dropped at the sound of Jungkook’s voice.

You briefly considered not answering, but you knew from previous experience that he would wait on the other side of that door for as long as necessary just to see you, having stayed with you through more than one meltdown in the past.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door. “What do you want, Kookie?” You asked quietly, looking up at him. He looked almost as tired as you felt, faint shadows visible under his eyes.

“Can I talk to you for a minute, please?” He asked, keeping his voice soft, but you could see the tension in his eyes.

You nodded, not trusting your voice, stepping back to let him in.

He made his way to the living room out of habit, with you following behind, before finally turning to face you. You spotted your reflection in the mirror over his shoulder, showing you how small and nervous you looked, like a cornered animal.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He said simply. It wasn’t a question, but there was clearly one attached to the statement.

“I was just giving some time.” You said lamely, wincing at the feeble excuse.

“Time for what?”

“To make up for my stupid mistake at the party.”

“You mean when you ran out?” He asked. “That was my fault, I shouldn’t have dumped everything on you so suddenly like that.”

“It’s more than that.” You said, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“What is it?” He studied you for a moment before asking quietly. “Do you… not like me that way?”

“No!” You said quickly. “I do, fuck I do, but that’s the problem.”

“You’ve lost me.” He said.

“Koo, it’s just-” You sighed, struggling with your words. “It just doesn't make any sense, we’re too… different”

“No, we aren’t,” He argued. “You’ve said it yourself, if anything, we're too alike.”

“I meant, because I’m…” Your words died off.

“Because you’re bigger?” He finished, understanding crossing his expression before shifting to sadness as he saw your eyes drop. He knew about your struggles with your self image, but he’d never thought they’d be an issue between the two of you. He was always trying to compliment you and let you know how amazing he thought you were.

“Y/n, you know I love you for you right?” He said gently.

“But what if that’s not enough?” You asked “What if you just think you want me? What if you get tired of not being able to do cute coupley things with me because I’m too heavy? What if-?”

Jungkook suddenly moved forward, causing you to backpedal until you were pinned between him and the wall.

“Look at me.” He breathed, staring down at you, completely serious. “There is no universe where I wouldn’t find you fucking gorgeous, you hear me? I have always, and will always love and want you, and nothing will ever change that. Even when we’re super old and gray and wrinkly, I will still be fucking awestruck by you.”

You let out a weak laugh at that, despite the tears gathering in your eyes.

“So, will you let me love you?” He asked, looking at you tenderly.

You nodded. “Yes.”

He smashed his mouth to yours, holding onto you for dear life as he tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss as he traced the shape of your lips with his, causing you to let out a tiny whine.

Wanting to further prove his point, his hands slipped down to the back of your thighs, catching behind your knees and hoisting you up so you were held up by him. You let out a squeak of shock, wrapping your arms and legs around him for support.

“See?” He asked, grinning at you proudly. “Don’t you dare say that you're too heavy for me.”

“You’re insane.” You laughed, shaking your head at him.

“You love it.” He grinned, letting you pull him back in for another kiss.

#jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x plus size reader #bts x plus size reader #bts plus size reader #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts drabble #bts imagines #bts one shot #bts scenarios #bts requests #7ndipity

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benkeibear · 1 year

Text

⋆꙳✧༄ Their hand slips - apology

❖ Character: Mikey, Nahoya, Draken

꒰ ͜͡➸The fight | ꒰ ͜͡➸Taiju/Hanma/Kazutora | ꒰ ͜͡➸Ran/Rindou/Sanzu

❖ Reader: genderneutral

❖ Wordcount: 2.4k

❖ Summary: What happens after their hand slipped? Can they fix your relationship?

❖ WARNINGS: Mentions of violence and reader getting hit once

❖ A/n: don’t want to miss a post? Sign up for my Taglist in my Navi!

☰ Mikey:

When Sanzu finally reached you, your cheeks were stained by tears, your beautiful face was all puffy from crying over a man who didn't deserve you or your kindness. His hand reached for your wrist so you would stop walking away. „Please… Let me drive you home“ he mumbled softly, knowing all too well how you feel, given that he was in your shoes once when he was a child. You agreed to his offer and let the pink haired man drive you to your- now only Mikey's place. „I- i can't stay here Haru“ you mumbled when you stepped inside the place you once called home, now merely resembling four walls with a roof.

He understood exactly what you meant and helped you pack without another word shared between the two of you. Getting all your stuff out will also clear Mikey’s head, it will make him realize that his actions do in fact have consequences, leader of bonten or not. He has lost you and he needs to feel it to properly understand what this means.

Mikey was miserable, not only did he hit his head against the concrete floor numerous times, he even needed medical help because of it and his memory was lacking due to the repetitive impact of his skull against the floor. „You can’t see them Mikey… In fact, i don’t think you will ever see them again“ Kakucho said serious, wishing he could strangle Mikey for what he’s done to you when all you ever did was to care for him, when he was too busy to do so himself.

That night Mikey returned to a dark house, the smell of your lovely dinner didn't fill his senses when he entered and the bed was cold and empty. He hated every second of this, not believing that he actually hit you. It took him hours to fall asleep but his dreams weren’t soothing him either, waking up completely drenched in his own sweat and reaching for you, needing your loving embrace… Right, he hit you, you’re gone. The realization sat in and it felt like someone ripped his heart right out of his chest. When he touched his cheek he found it to be wet, tears slipping across them, it’s like yours did earlier at exactly the same spot. This was when Mikey knew he had to change, that he needs to get better in order to get you back into his life somehow.

Weeks went by and you got used to living with Sanzu, the thought of living completely alone felt like dying to you. Yet you never once heard of Mikey and neither did anyone else. Just when everyone assumed the worst, a bouquet of flowers with a small note attached arrived - addressed to you, by Mikey.

„My dearest love, please forgive me for what I’ve done. There are no words in any language to apologize and beg for your forgiveness, let alone to justify my behavior. If you find it in you to face me one last time, I would be eternally grateful. This sunday at the place we met, i will be there until it's dark - Forever yours, Manjiro“

You sighed heavily as you read the small card, unsure if you even want to see him again but it was Sanzu that convinced you into showing up with him together. Once the dreaded day rolled around you got ready and couldn't stop shaking the whole way there. When you arrived at the small bridge close to a shrine you were almost hiding behind the pink haired man who eventually pulled you in front of him so you could face Mikey. He would be there to protect you if Mikey acted out but the man standing in front of both of you was almost like a stranger to you. He was well put together, looking like he slept better and ate more… He almost looked happy but the heartbroken expression upon setting his eyes on your frame told you otherwise.

As if he suddenly forgot how to speak, his mouth was opening and closing like a fish on dry land, he just stood in front of you, his hands slowly reaching towards yours only to fall limp to his side. You gave him a chance to explain himself and apologize, listening to the man you still loved with all your heart. Mikey was a miserable pile at the end of it, eyes red and puffy as he sank down to the floor, mentally preparing himself to watch you leave a second time - What he didn't expect was your soft hand stroking his cheek and holding your hand out to help him up. „I can't just move on but i will forgive you. You’ve changed, i see that and i'm willing to give you a second chance to let you prove that you've changed“ You mumbled softly and Mikey nodded, understanding that you need time but he would give you all the time you need, wanting to prove that he's a better man now and that he truly loves you.

☰ Nahoya:

The moment you closed the door you immediately called Souya so he could come and pick you up, which he of course did - You were like a sister to him after all. Hearing you cry into his brother's shoulder just outside of his place broke his heart further, making him feel like he gets choked with barbed wire, only for this burning rage to boil up deep inside of him. During this rage he felt helpless, not able to understand how he could have done that, what made his brain think that this is a smart choice and this feeling of helplessness and utter sadness drove him to the brink of insanity, trashing his place.

When you arrived at Souyas place, which wasn't far away from your now ex-boyfriends, he made you some comfort food before sitting with you on the couch and just letting you cry and scream. He hated to see you this upset, unsure how he could even help you, so all he did was to be there for you and listen to everything you had to say or be the shoulder to cry on - he even let you choose all the plushies you want to cuddle with from his room in a desperate attempt to make you comfortable. While he despised Nahoya for what he's done, Souya would never say a bad thing about him to you, agreeing that what he did was disgusting but his brother isn't a monster and this was -hopefully- just a one time incident.

The peach haired man spent days inside his apartment before he even dared to show up at his restaurant again, looking like a shell of his former self and his signature smile had completely vanished, looking like a much sadder version of Souya. His skin wasn't as thick as it used to be, every little thing annoying him and getting him to explode but he tried not to let anyone see this part, punching bags of flour or rice in the back just to get this rage out of him. His past actions are always running through his mind, how he couldn't see what he had in front of him and always flirting around as if he would find anyone better, but you were there all along. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't understand how you even put up with him a single day of your life, how you saw the good in him when there wasn't anything to be seen.

From that day on other people became the least interesting thing to him, not even looking at the women anymore even if they so obviously flirted with him or tried to get his attention. On some days he just ignored them but when his nerves were starting to wear out he would snap at them to leave him alone, that he had a partner already. That's usually when the realization hit - he didn't, not anymore. Every night he returned to a cold bed and he swore that it got colder every night without you at his side.

Souya eventually had enough of the way he was beating himself up and the way you so religiously avoided the restaurant so you won't end up seeing him, but he had a plan, inviting you over as Nahoya was looking through the storage room. Of course the door accidentally locked itself when you went to get a bag of rice for the blue haired man, almost jumping out of your skin when Nahoya was in there as well. Great. The last person you wanted to see was locked in with you, making a mental note to drown Souya in his own Ramen once you get out of there.

The moment Nahoya took a step towards you, looking like a beaten puppy you took a can from your left and threw it right in his face. He didn't even try to stop the impact from happening, nor did he say anything to the cruel words spilling from your lips, knowing you were right. He did treat you terribly and he couldn't do anything but take everything you're giving him right now, deserving everything coming from you. “I never want to feel your disgusting hands on me again” you spat and as much as he acted like it didn't hurt, it felt like a knife to his heart but he understood and respected it, not moving at all as you threw everything at him - words, objects, it didn't matter to him.

Only when you ran out of ammunition, you felt helpless and trapped, tears staining your beautiful face as you started to cry which gave him the last blow. He sank down to his knees, approaching you like a broken man “I don't want anyone but you” he whispered as he wiped away the tears despite the fight you were putting up with and swatting his hands away. The sound of your sobs filled the room but you weren't alone, the once so happy man hasn't been the same since the incident, crying with you now as promises spill from his lips, promising to be better and that he can be the man you need if you just give him one more chance and as much as you wanted to hate him - you just couldn't. Next to that, Souya probably won't let you two out until everything is okay again.

So all you can do is sniffle and nod, a frown appearing on your face again upon seeing the black eye slowly forming due to your attack on him moments ago. “I guess we're even now” you whisper as you press the softest kiss on his closed eyelid.

☰ Draken:

Draken didn't want you to leave, that was the last thing he ever wanted and he could feel his heart clench in time with the door falling shut as he sank to his knees. The wave of emotions that came over him was too much to handle, fear, heartache, anger, sadness… His hands brought pain to others from time to time but never to you. The way he lost control over his own actions was what made him so angry with himself but once these initial emotions ebbed off, it was as if a veil of fog was lifted and he clearly saw just how poorly he has been treating you these past few weeks. Emma's death day creeping closer left him feeling on edge but it was no reason to behave like a monster. The way he kept comparing you to her or the way he thought of Emma bouncing on his lap when it was in fact you left him feeling embarrassed, humiliated of his own mind. It was enough to disgust himself, a fist connecting with the sturdy wall at each mistake he made over the past week.

He spent the night tossing and turning in bed until he gave up on sleeping to tend to his beloved punching bag to punish himself for hurting you. How could he have compared the person he loved with his whole heart to his ex - no matter the circumstances she left and he knew that he had to fix this, to let go of the woman haunting his mind.

In the morning Draken peeled himself from the floor where he eventually fell asleep and made his way to Emma's grave, wanting to let go for real this time but he didn't expect to see you sitting in front of the tombstone with tear stained eyes, having a conversation with his former girlfriend. You were begging Emma to let him move on, to let go of him and that you would never try to replace her but that he deserves to be happy, even if that's without her - but as long as her claws are so deeply anchored in his heart, he won't ever be able to move on with you or anyone else.

It was breaking his heart further to see you there like this, begging at a grave for his happiness. “He is my happiness, Emma. You and your memory will always be honored but I can't watch him suffer like this much longer.” you sniffled as you got up and wiped your tears with the sleeves of your sweater.

Draken was a tall man and you felt his presence and without turning around you spoke up “I know you're here. Was hurting me not enough? You follow me now too?” you asked offended and in this moment he knew more than before that he needed to step up his game, deciding to come out of his hiding spot. “I know I'm the last person you want to see right now but I didn't expect to see you… here” he explained himself which made you laugh bitter. Eventually your eyes landed on his bruised and bloodied hands, knowing exactly what he's done the whole night and you hated to see the way guilt was written all over his face, knowing that this was just a stupid accident. “I don't expect you to forgive me but you deserve an apology” he said loud and clear, keeping the polite distance between the two of you.

“You're right, but I'm not sure if I can forgive you… but i'll try to” You said with a sad smile, willing to give him a second chance but Draken knew that if he mistreated you ever again you would be gone without a further word.

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