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quin-ns · 5 months

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Eventually (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

Word count: 6.7k

Summary: Coriolanus could appreciate irony, but the one person he desires more than anything wanting nothing to do with him pushes him to new territory

Tags: (18+), cw: noncon, dark!coriolanus, deeply implied stalker!coriolanus, unreliable narrator coriolanus (boy is delusional tbh, no one is doing more mental gymnastics than him), pre-mentor era, obsession, unprotected sex, choking (only for like a second), virginity status undisclosed but as I was writing I began to imagine this being the first time for both of them—it’s not even implied tho, so do with that what you will

A/N: a character as evil as him I couldn’t conceive writing fluff for. he’s bad and guess what I’m not gonna fix him, but I also can’t make him not-hot so… hehe. please read the tags and proceed with caution <3

hunger games masterlist

You wanted nothing to do with him, and that made him crazy.

No, if anything, you were the crazy one. Coriolanus hadn’t done anything but try to be your friend, but you snubbed him without reason.

Coriolanus did a good job at keeping the financial situation of his family a secret. No one knew, and he doubted you were an exception. Yet, it was as if you looked down upon him.

Although, you’d grown fond of Sejanus, so even if you did know, status wasn’t a concern of yours. It was something he admired, yet questioned all at once. There had to be a reason for your dismissal. A reason you couldn’t bring yourself to even offer a smile back. It’s not like he was asking a lot.

It’s not like he wasn’t trying, either. He’d gotten used to trying to make people like him, to see him as better than he was, but it was never this hard. It would’ve been so much simpler if you just told him to his face what your problem was, but whenever he came around, mostly when you were talking to Sejanus—they were friends, it was the perfect excuse—you just went quiet. You’d greet him, make no effort to continue the conversation, then excuse yourself.

All Coriolanus wanted to know was why.

“You’re watching her again,” Clemensia whispered to him, eyes flicking between him and the paper in front of her.

They were class partners, but Coriolanus was beginning to think he spent too much time with her.

“Who?”

Clemensia let out a small chuckle, mocking him. The professor at the front of the class looked up, and Coriolanus quickly looked down at his paper, taking his eyes off of you.

“You’re too obvious,” she muttered, a smirk in her voice. “Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you. Because you stare at her too much.”

She didn’t get a response—it didn’t deserve one. Coriolanus questioned why he ever told her anything. She made him sound like some sort of stalker. Which, for the record, he was not.

His eyes managing to find you frequently wasn’t a crime, and neither was crossing your path. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence most of the time, but it’s not as if he was harming you by watching you. He doubted you noticed anyway.

Seeing you nearly everyday had been enough to keep him sated, but then Sejanus started talking about you. Through no fault of his own, Coriolanus learned things about you. What he came to know made him curious to discover more. Even if you did not seem keen to let him.

Being content with what he had didn’t keep its appeal for long. Not when you were right there, your presence taunting him. Making him want what you would not let him have.

“You just need to talk to her, Coryo,” Tigris told him one evening, when he revealed everything to her. “Not in class and not with Sejanus. Just you. Let her know the real you and I promise she’ll like what she sees.”

Coriolanus took his cousin’s advice to heart. She was much more empathetic than him, she had to be onto something, right?

Everything changed when Coriolanus sat across from you at a study table in the library.

As beautiful as you were from a distance, being up close was something else entirely. He could admire you for hours and never get tired.

You looked up at him, he smiled and said hello just like Tigris advised. The smile you returned seemed forced, and you ignored that he had spoken.

It upset him, but not as much as when you got up and walked out. It was the last straw. Coriolanus was following you into the hall before he could think better of it.

He caught up to you, dropping his hand to your shoulder to make you turn around and face him. When you did, you looked surprised. That wasn’t what made Coriolanus hesitate, but the realization that he had never been this close to you before. Not even sitting across from you compared to touching you.

His heart skipped a beat.

“What do you want?” you questioned, a level of annoyance he thought to be unearned in your voice.

His heart started again.

“Have I done something to you?” Coriolanus confronted you, feeling a familiar sense of agitation creep over him. He had to know. “To make you feel such distaste for me?”

“I don’t dislike you, Coriolanus,” you replied, calmly after recovering from your initial shock. “I’m just… indifferent to you.”

The answer confused him more than it did enrage him. He smothered the latter feeling as he observed you.

“You’re… indifferent,” he stated, not asking. His feet shifted beneath him. It hurt, for some reason. “Why?”

Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly, studying him. It was the same way you’d look at your books when you were struggling with a subject, lingering behind in class or the library until a triumphant smile crossed your face.

Only, that smile never came. Your expression just faded back to normal.

“You shouldn’t put so much weight on what other people think of you,” you advised, stepping closer to him. His breath caught in his chest. You smelled sweet, like flowers. “Especially not someone you don’t even know.”

It was then, he realized, you hadn’t moved closer to him with purpose. You’d been on your way moving past him. His eyes focused on your back as you walked away, figuring out what to say.

“I’d like to know you,” he announced earnestly, verbally trying to pull you back. “If you’d only give me a chance.”

You slowed to a stop, looking over your shoulder. Coriolanus felt as if he was on display as your eyes raked over him, determining for yourself his sincerity.

“You’re friends with Sejanus, aren’t you?” you wondered. It wasn’t what he expected, but Coriolanus nodded. You sighed, which irked him to think it was pity. “If you’d like to join us for lunch I wouldn’t be against that.”

“I’ll see you then,” he said, but you were already turning away. He kept to himself that he had already tried in the past.

His friend was nice. Too nice for his own good, truthfully. It wasn’t as if Sejanus completely abandoned him the moment he befriended you. It was more like he split his time, attending to both friendships. The only thing Coriolanus held against him was that he never tried to reintroduce the two of you. Maybe even put in a good word.

At lunch Coriolanus found you and Sejanus quickly, he knew where you liked to sit.

“Hey, Coryo,” Sejanus greeted, smiling. “About time you decided to join us.”

Coriolanus put on a smile as he sat down. “Well, I would’ve sooner, but I wasn’t sure I was welcome before.”

The comment made you smirk, in on the joke as Coriolanus looked at you.

“Who’s to say you are now?” you sarcastically replied, as if you hadn’t been the one to invite him.

Well, “invite” was being generous, but he still seized the opportunity nonetheless.

“Ignore her, she can’t help herself,” Sejanus said with a chuckle, used to your humor.

This time, when he tried to talk to you, you engaged. In between discussions of classes and assignments, Coriolanus had to dodge your quick wit.

He liked the challenge, and the next day, he went back for more. Even walked right past Clemanisa and Arachne, who tried to invite him to their table with Festus. You were waiting for him.

He noticed you and Sejanus already talking.

When he sat across from you, you raised your brows. “Seeking refuge?”

Before he could ask what you meant, you nodded your head towards the girls he’d left behind.

You knew about his friends?

“You could call it that,” he replied, a smile starting to appear.

You nodded and hummed.

“Well, what are your qualifications?”

“Excuse me?”

“You joke too much, Y/N,” Sejanus lightly scolded you, interrupting whatever path you were going down, which made you laugh. “He’s going to think you don’t like him.”

“He knows I don’t mean anything by it,” you assured, looking at Coriolanus. “I’m just trying to figure him out.”

Your tone was filled with confidence, but your face… Coriolanus wasn’t sure how to place your underlying expression. You had a shield up, he knew that much, but what did that have to do with him? Were you trying to figure out if you could let it down for him? Or something else?

“Of course,” Coriolanus answered, not taking his eyes off of you. “I’m an open book.”

“Are you, now?” You folded your arms on the table. “Your friends love to gossip, and I don’t think I’ve heard that about you.”

“It’s not my fault if they don’t know how to read,” Coriolanus quipped, proud of himself for being so quick.

None of his friends had wronged him, but the joke at their expense was worth it for what followed after.

He made you laugh. Not just smile, but truly laugh. It was exactly what he wanted, and it actually worked. Awe didn't begin to describe how it felt.

Joining your table for lunch became the best part of his day. Sometimes he forgot Sejanus was even there, far too eager to see you. He saw you all the time, of course. Watching you was a habit he had yet to break, but this was different. You were aware of his presence, and he was able to speak to you. It didn’t matter that you still seemed weary, it was enough.

Even if you didn’t like him, you still had conversations with him, so that was something.

Sometimes, if you were deep in a discussion, debating ethics—your favorite topic—it would continue beyond just the table. He’d walk you to class, wanting to hear your voice just a second longer.

“I want to meet this girl,” His grandmother declared one night, after Coriolanus drifted to the topic of you over dinner. He’d been doing it more recently.

Tigris gave him a look, a light frown. There was no way to do that without you coming to his home, and he wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Let Coryo decide that, Grandma‘am,” Tigris insisted, patting the older woman’s shoulder.

“Well, he has feelings for Y/N,” she argued, looking at Coriolanus. He used your name enough that she remembered it. “And she likes him too—doesn’t she?”

Coriolanus gave a tight smile. “Yes, she does.”

Keeping up appearances.

“Well, that settles it, then,” Grandma‘am decided.

“I think it’s time you get to bed,” Tigris intervened, getting their grandmother up from her chair.

Later, when they were alone, Tigris asked him, “Does she even know how you feel about her?” She knew him too well. He took too long to answer. “You should tell her. From what you’ve told us, you two should be together. But it won’t happen unless you make it known how you feel.”

Coriolanus’s dreams were filled with you, as they usually were, but something was different the morning he woke up after the conversation with Tigris.

All he had to do was prove himself to you, and he knew that now.

Coriolanus found you in the library a lot, often pretending to stumble upon you. This time, he didn’t put on a facade.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he acknowledged, sitting down beside you. Often he’d sit across, but he was testing the waters. Seeing if you were put off by the proximity. “Studying for Featherly’s class?”

“I’m terrified for his test,” you confided, rubbing your temples as you hunched down at your book. “I feel like my mind has no room for anything else. I’ve memorized nothing.”

With a sigh, you sat up and pushed the book away.

“I can help you,” Coriolanus insisted, reaching for the book. He read over the page you were on, knowing he’d already perfected the subject. “You should’ve asked for me sooner.”

Maybe it was a little spiteful, but he hadn’t purposely meant it to come out that way. You still noticed it, taking your book back.

“I’m not asking for your help now, Coriolanus,” you muttered, looking at him out of the corner of your eye.

You were the last of his friends to still call him that. Most everyone else called him ‘Coryo’. Not you. But you were stubborn in many ways. This too, apparently.

“I didn’t mean anything against you,” he said lightly, even chuckling a little. It was forced, but he wanted to show he wasn’t being that serious.

Using your own words on you did not have the desired effect.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hummed.

Coriolanus tilted his head down, trying to get you to meet his gaze. You gave in, facing him, looking unamused.

He wanted to wipe that look away, but didn’t know how. If he could just make you like him—

Suddenly, your watch began to beep.

“Test time,” you grumbled, taking back your book and getting up.

Coriolanus followed you down the hall and into class. The tests were already on the desks, waiting. You two were early—he noticed that because of the clock on the wall.

He walked you to your seat and wished you good luck. To his surprise, you offered the same in return. Then, he went to his own. Other students filed in quickly after, professor Featherly being the last to enter the room.

The professor declared, “Begin,” then sat at his desk in the middle of the room and began to read.

The test wasn’t easy, but Coriolanus knew what he was doing. One look around the classroom and he saw that wasn’t the case for most other students. He felt a sense of pride, until his gaze landed on you. You were one row down and four seats to the left. He’d counted before. You were fiddling with your pencil, struggling to come up with what to write down.

While he could’ve been the first to finish, Coriolanus let other students turn their tests in before him. An hour passed by, but it moved quickly.

There were only a few students left when you finally got up. You radiated an anxious energy, much like the others, but Coriolanus didn’t care about the others.

Clemensia stuck her hand up in the air, waiting for the professor to notice her, distracting Coriolanus briefly. When the professor looked up and noticed her, Clemansia got her wish.

Coriolanus considered himself lucky, convincing himself with his own mantra frequently. As he watched you leave your test on Featherly’s desk and rush from the room, he realized how he could help you.

He quickly marked down the rest of his answers, having stalled so he could leave when you did. The professor was making his way away from the desk, while Coriolanus got up and went in the opposite direction.

With a swift, hard kick to the leg, the professor's desk wobbled and papers spilled off on the other side. It looked like an accident.

Featherly looked over his shoulder at the noise.

“Sorry,” Coriolanus apologized, kneeling down behind the desk to collect the papers.

Without anyone watching, he found your test. He had no time to change the written questions, but he made quick work of erasing and re-doing the multiple choice, with his own test and knowledge as reference.

He had to give you credit for getting a decent amount correct, but not enough for a passing grade.

When Coriolanus fixed that, he stacked together the papers and placed them back on the desk and exited.

Everyone was waiting in the hall. Against tradition, the professor graded tests directly after and would call students in to give the results. It was time consuming, and kept everyone on campus after hours, which was against the rules, but perhaps he’d gotten some kind of exception.

You were leaning against the wall opposite of the classroom, talking to some girl from the class—Coriolanus didn’t bother to learn her name. He wanted to go to you, but Sejanus got to him first instead.

“How do you think you did?”

Coriolanus shrugged, looking down at his friend. “Fine, I think.” That was the humble answer, right? “How about you?”

“Not perfect, but I passed.”

Clemensia trotted out then, a confident look on her face.

“What was so important you had to ask during the test?” Coriolanus couldn’t help but wonder. She’d unknowingly helped him, after all.

“Just clarity on a question, wanted to make sure I got it right,” she answered with ease.

“And did you?”

She gave Sejanus a look.

“Yes, of course.”

The last person exited the class, and professor Featherly closed the door. And so the grading began.

One by one, the professor called people in. There was no method to the order, it seemed likely he shuffled the papers or chose which one to grade next at random.

Time passed, Coriolanus didn’t know how much exactly, but it was beginning to get dark outside. Tigris would be worried until he got home, but she’d understand. His studies came first.

Eventually, Coriolanus realized it was dwindling down to be just you and him left. He was lucky today.

The third to last student was in the classroom, leaving you across the hall from one another.

You pressed your lips together before speaking.

“Do you think you did alright?”

The corner of Coriolanus’s lip twitched up at the sound of your voice.

“Yes, I think so,” he answered humbly. “What about you?”

You let out a self deprecating laugh. “When I said I was terrified, I wasn’t being dramatic.” You sighed, accepting your fate. “I’ll have to do perfect on the next one, I guess.”

“I can help you with that,” Coriolanus offered.

The smile he gave you spawned a mirror reaction. He knew he was charming, he had to be, and this time you actually seemed receptive to it.

“Maybe you can.”

The sound of a door opening made Coriolanus turn. Arachne was leaving, a smug look on her face as she thanked the professor.

Then the door closed, and the professor graded another test. There were only two left.

“I wish he wouldn’t do it like this,” you filled the silence. “The others don’t make us wait like this.”

“It builds suspense, I suppose,” Coriolanus mused. “Keeps us on our toes.”

“That’s not something I need right now.”

“At least you have good company,” he noted flirtatiously. He couldn’t help but grin at his own words, especially when you bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling.

“Could be worse, I supposed,” you retorted.

More time passed. The door opened again.

“Coriolanus Snow,” the professor addressed him next. “Your turn.”

As expected, Coriolanus did close to perfect. One answer off. Best in the class.

Back in the hallway, when he was done, Coriolanus waited with you. He didn’t announce he was staying, he just returned to his spot against the wall.

“Don’t keep a girl waiting. How did you do?” you asked, departing from the wall.

Coriolanus wondered where you were going, but then, you stood next to him, leaning back against the wall. There was still an arms length between the two of you, but it was something. You’d gone to him for once.

“You’ll think I’m full of myself if I tell you,” he teased lightly, which made you roll your eyes.

“Maybe I already think that, so just tell me,” you insisted.

The comment made him falter.

“Best in the class,” he divulged.

You almost looked impressed. “Good for you.”

The door opened.

“Y/N L/N, you’re up.”

“Wish me luck,” you said under your breath before following Featherly in.

“Good luck.”

Coriolanus waited for you, just like before. He tapped his foot. The professor didn’t actually go over the answers, he just told you the grade. You’d have no way of knowing what he did for you, but he’d be there to share in your excitement when you discovered how well you’d done.

Or, how well he’d done for you.

Not long later, you and the professor exited the class together.

“Wasn’t expecting you to still be here,” Featherly addressed Coriolanus. “You should get going. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Then, he left you and Coriolanus alone in the hall, presumably leaving the building.

“So,” Coriolanus began with a smile. “How did you do?”

“He asked if I’d been studying with you. Apparently we had all the same answers,” you told him, crossing your arms. “Except when I asked him to show me my exam—which I did great on, apparently—I saw answers circled that weren’t mine.”

Coriolanus hadn’t expected you to find out so quickly, but a part of him was relieved you did. It meant he got to take credit, and he could show you that he really did want the best for you.

Or, he could always lie.

“You weren scared of failing,” he finally admitted. He offered a sympathetic smile. “So I helped.”

“No, you cheated!” you accused, causing his eyes to go wide. “You’ve implicated us both. If anyone finds out…”

“Don’t be so loud,” he hissed out in a whisper, stepping closer to you. The professor could still be in the building. He doubted anyone else would be. “I just wanted to help you, okay? You needed it, so I—“

“You helped, I get it. But I didn’t ask you to do that for me, Coriolanus. I have never asked you to do anything for me,” you sneered, somewhere between offended and betrayed.

He saw the way you scanned his face—his eyes. The pleading was beginning to seep through.

A wave of realization washed over you before he even opened his mouth.

“You didn’t have to ask me to,” Coriolanus said meaningfully, stepping closer to you. “I wanted to. I wanted to help you.”

You back hit the wall. The hallway was so empty it seemed as if the subtle sound still echoed.

“I’d do anything for you, don’t you get that?”

The sound of a large door closing carried from a distance.

Coriolanus reached for your face, wishing he could take away the concern that riddled your expression. Instead, he brushed a stray piece of hair from your face.

You swallowed. Why did you look so nervous around him? You were friends now, weren’t you? You never looked scared around anyone else. Why him? Why now? His own questions frustrated him.

“We’re not supposed to be on campus after hours,” you said calmly. It was the same tone you used when you first described your indifference to him. Coriolanus thought about that moment a lot. “Featherly already left. We should leave before we get caught.”

The corners of his lips twitched down.

“We’re still talking, though, aren’t we?”

You let out a shallow breath. You had no reason to look as scared as you did.

“I think we’re done.”

Coriolanus thought back to his cousin’s advice. He could’ve followed it better if she’d written it down, perchance.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Coriolanus pondered, smiling to himself at the sight of you. “You caught my eye from the beginning and I—I couldn’t figure out why you wanted nothing to do with me.” You watched him carefully. He wondered if you could sense the dejectedness brewing. “Did you see something in me? Is that it?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted under your breath. “People like you, and you’ve been making an effort to be my friend, so I don’t know what told me to stay away from you, but something did. I’ve tried to ignore it, but I still…” you swallowed. “I don’t know.”

The confession should’ve been a relief. That’s what he imagined it would be. That you would admit the truth, and he could fix whatever misconceptions you had.

Coriolanus did not know what to do with “I don’t know”.

Staring down at you, Coriolanus noticed your back was against the wall. Literally. He hadn’t meant to put you there, but he had.

It got you to listen, didn’t it? He’d gotten an answer?

“Can we start over?” Coriolanus suggested, even throwing in a smile that would charm most anyone. It worked on you before. “We can forget all this mess.”

You blinked. You didn’t believe him.

For most people, he wouldn’t simply let numerous slights go, but for you, if it would fix whatever this was, if it meant the two of you could have a real chance, then he’d overcome his instincts—old and new.

“I’m afraid my memory is too good for that,” you finally said, looking up at him with defiance.

Defying what, was the question. It wasn’t as if you were enemies.

The thought made his jaw clench. He let out a laugh that was sharp. It lacked any sense of humor.

“Why can’t you just accept my apology?”

Your brows arched up, questioning him.

“That was supposed to be an apology?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “But it’s not as if I owe you one.”

“I never said you did. I never said anything. You took it upon yourself to insert yourself into my life and now you are not happy with your place in it. You’ve overstepped, and you need to let me leave.”

Coriolanus frowned.

“You act like I’m keeping you here by force.”

You look up at him, silently telling him you believed he was.

That frustrated him further.

In an act that jarred even him, Coriolanus pressed his palms against your shoulders and pushed you back against the wall when you tried to move away.

“This is force,” he declared sternly, leaning down, making you maintain his gaze.

Everyone liked control, but he hadn’t used it in such a physical way before. It thrilled him in an odd way.

“Get your hands off me.”

“Why should I? You already think so poorly of me, why not let you be right?”

You moved again then, trying to catch him off guard and squirm away. But Coriolanus was quick to shove you back against the wall.

“We can still start over. If you would give me a chance, I think we can be good together.”

He let one hand rise to rest on your cheek. Your skin was so smooth. He inhaled deeply, resolve slipping further as his eyes fell to your lips.

If Coriolanus could just prove it to you, he was sure you’d understand what he meant.

He leaned in cautiously, gauging your reaction. You didn’t flinch away. You tilted your chin up, even. That familiar skip of his heart returned.

Coriolanus’s lips only just brushed against yours before you reacted. He had a second of relief before you brought your knee up, jabbing him in the lower stomach, although he doubted that was where you were aiming. It was still enough of a shock to throw him off his game. He stumbled back, and in a flash, you were gone. You were running down the hall—trying to get away from him, like usual.

Only this time, he didn’t feel like letting you go.

Something he had slowly come to learn was when he wanted something, it wasn’t just going to be handed to him. Vying for the Plinth Prize highlighted that, alongside his childhood.

He caught you easily, hand snapping out like a snake to grip your arm and yank you back to him. You collided with his chest. It was like you weren’t even trying. Not really. Just toying with him.

“Am I a game to you?” Coriolanus hissed into your ear, wrapping you in his arms. “Something for you to play?”

“I haven’t done anything to you! I hardly even know you!” you defended, but it just made him hold you tighter.

“I know you,” he implored, fighting against your squirming. He lost balance and when you fell to the ground, you took him with you. Coriolanus got you onto your back, sitting on your thighs, gripping your wrists in his hands to keep you from swinging at him. You let out panicked breaths, staring up at him. “I know more than you think.”

Something about the position made the front of his pants begin to feel constricting.

“Coriolanus, you’re frightening me,” you enunciated, as if trying to reason with him.

“I’m not being unreasonable,” Coriolanus grit out, working to maintain his composure.

“What?” you questioned, brows pinching together, a deep frown on your face. Confused and scared. Coriolanus used to feel that way. “Just let me go.”

“And then what? You go back to ignoring me? No I can’t… I can’t go back to that. If you just give me a chance I can show you.”

Coriolanus didn’t know what happened next.

Tigris told him it was like he left his own head, sometimes. She said he’d get so caught up, he wouldn’t notice things. At the time he had laughed. If anyone stayed aware, it was him.

It wasn’t that he left his head, but got lost in it. Lost in his own inner monologue to realize what he was doing.

In this case, what he’d done.

Far too busy thinking of ways to convey everything he wanted to say to you, how to make you understand, visualizing your reaction, he’d already acted.

Maybe there were two people living in his mind. One with a conscience, one without. Or perhaps that was just something he used to justify his less than decent actions. An excuse. He’d never let himself know the truth. Not really. Not yet.

What he did know was what he could see. You, beneath him, clothes torn from your body. The only thing left was a shirt. Too much effort, apparently. Your wrists were snatched together in one of his hands.

The power stirred something within him.

One might say he was out of excuses when he reached for the zipper of his pants, but no one else was here, were they?

Your mouth was moving. Speaking. Maybe even yelling. Looking at him, looking around the room. He couldn’t hear a sound but his own heart thumping in his ears paired with his own eager breaths. Was that normal?

He moved, wedging himself between your legs, nudging them apart to make room for himself.

“It’s just us,” Coriolanus spoke, loud enough to hear himself. You flinched. “No one’s here.”

He gripped himself, stroking his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. His patience was running incredibly thin.

Tears pricked in your eyes. You stopped struggling at his words, accepting it for what it was. Good.

“Why are you doing this?”

He heard your voice clearly, that time, despite the strain in your tone.

Coriolanus observed you carefully, squeezing your wrists together in one hand and lovingly caressing your hip with the other.

He finally understood the answer you’d given before. He found it fitting now.

“I don’t know.”

To him, it was the truth.

The moment Coriolanus pressed himself inside of you, it was as if the rest of the world disappeared. After so long of wanting you in every way, shape, or form, this was long overdue.

“You’re perfect for me,” he breathed out. Coriolanus gave a shove of his hips, his gaze falling to your mouth as an unwilling yelp slipped out. “I knew you would be.”

You were tight, too tight, even. Unwelcoming. Yet still, you felt like home.

His hand—the one that was on your hip—drifted between your legs. He found your clit, running his thumb in small circles, trying to ease the pressure you must’ve been feeling.

Coriolanus did not want to hurt you.

He looked into unfocused eyes. Where were you? Were you trying to be somewhere else?

He let your hands go. You didn’t move to slap him or shove him or anything. You were learning.

He leaned over you more, reaching for you face with his now free hand, and ran his thumb over your cheek, encouraging your gaze to actually meet his. He smiled softly when you did. You got more beautiful every second he looked at you. It was even better when he could see you were present.

Coriolanus found himself unable to resist it, so he gave into the urge to press his lips to yours. A real kiss, this time.

Your lips were softer than he’d imagined. You made a noise when his tongue tasted your mouth. His kiss was hungry—aggressive, even. But he’d waited so long he didn’t know how to contain himself.

Your body reacted to his touch. Your bent knees inched up his hips to accommodate him, and your walls were becoming slick, accepting the invasion.

A deep moan escaped him, cock throbbing inside you at the feel. The sound was muffled by his lips pressed to yours, but he still felt vulnerable, giving himself to you in this way.

Coriolanus pulled back from the kiss, only to rest his forehead against yours and breathe out a small puff of air from his lips.

“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you. Not even the Plinth Prize,” he confessed in a whisper.

“What’s the difference?” You finally spoke, voice wavering. “You have to earn the prize?” The accusing tone felt like a slap.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Coriolanus muttered, eyes boring into yours. “You’ll see.”

He gave you one more searing kiss before moving his hips.

A gasp that morphed into a moan clawed its way up your throat. The sound was like music to his ears. He wanted to hear it again.

He began to move more consistently, finding a pace that suited him. Rough enough to keep you present, but not so harsh as to hurt you. He wanted you to enjoy yourself, even if you were trying to avoid it.

Still figuring you out, Coriolanus found your sweet spot with a hard thrust, causing you to wince. Instinctively, you tried to push him away, just like you had before, not wanting to surrender.

You stilled when you felt his hand. He hardly realized how he’d reacted until he felt your throat bob beneath his palm.

Coriolanus retracted his hand, like your skin and shot a volt through him. His movements slowed to a stop.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized earnestly, brushing the hand through your hair gently. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your chest heaved as you breathed shaky breaths through your nose. Your lips pressed together in a line.

You weren’t going to dignify him with a response. In a way, he understood.

Coriolanus locked his arms under your body and in a surge of strength, pulled you from the ground and into his lap. He hugged you against him, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Forgive me,” he requested softly.

You shifted in his lap, adjusting yourself to find comfort in the new position. You did not speak.

He slammed his hips up, forcing a gasp from your lips. That was something, wasn’t it?

You pulled back, and he did it again. And again. And again.

You fell against him, jarred by the change in his movements as he thrust into you. He liked it, feeling you in his lap, your chest against his, leaving you no choice but to hold onto him.

His lips latched onto the skin of your neck as he moved, barring his teeth and nipping the skin. You reacted as if he were venomous, straining away from him, but he’d left his mark.

You could pretend all you wanted that you didn’t like him, but Coriolanus could feel your body reacting to his. He could feel the way your walls squeezed around him, drawing him in, and how your body quivered as he pushed you closer to your edge.

“Just let go,” Coriolanus whispered, holding you tighter. He cradled the back of your head against him as he moved inside of you. Soothing and rough at the same time. “It’s okay, I know you want to.”

“Shut up,” you hissed into his neck, hands finding his chest.

Were you really going to try and get away from him? It was a bit late for that.

Coriolanus moved his hand between your bodies, finding your clit with the pad of his thumb, speeding along the process.

“What was that?” he taunted, feeling your legs start to shake.

A moan tore from your throat as you came around him, body slumping against his as he shoved himself deeper inside you. He wanted to feel your body tensed around him.

“That’s it,” he drawled, pressing his face to the side of your head. He inhaled, letting your scent flood him. Every sense was overwhelmed by you and if anything, it made him hunger for even more.

You became more pliable in your daze, going easily when Coriolanus laid you back down on the cold ground. He planted one hand on the ground near your head, where he held most of his weight, while the other rested on the base of your neck. Not squeezing, just resting. Reminding you of before.

Now that he’d taken care of you, made you realize the pleasure he could inflict upon you, it was his turn. Coriolanus was relentless with the thrust of his cock inside you, stretching you around him, groaning with nearly every movement. You felt so good, he never wanted to leave the warmth of your body.

You shifted beneath him, squirming as the intense feeling. Coriolanus was tempted to drag it out, to watch your face as the pleasure became too much for you to handle.

If it wasn’t for the desire to fill you, to claim you, he would’ve. There would be more times after this, he’d ensure it. He didn’t own a lot, but he treasured the things that he did.

“I can’t let you go, not now.” He meant to keep it inside his head, but the words spilled out. “You’re the only thing I want.”

At that moment, it was true.

Coriolanus gave one final shove of his hips before spilling inside of you. It crashed over him in an unexpected wave. His whole body shivered with pleasure at the feel of your body milking him. You wanted him. Your denial would eventually fade. He was sure of it.

Coriolanus let out a heavy sigh of your name as he watched your face. You’d turned your head, wincing as he filled you to the brim.

“Hey,” Coriolanus said when he finished, voice low. He ran a delicate hand over your face, persuading you to open your eyes. “We’re okay.”

As much as he didn’t want to, Coriolanus withdrew from you. You’d given up fighting against him, so he took the opportunity to help you redress. You were so pliant, it was like dressing a doll.

You rested your arms on your knees when he made you sit up. He wasn’t keeping you from moving from the floor, you chose not to.

Coriolanus watched you cautiously, searching for the same fire in you before, trying to figure out if he’d somehow snuffed it out.

There was a nagging in his gut. It was only for a brief second, but his confidence wavered.

“Can you talk to me?” he pressed, laying a hand on your shoulder and he knelt across from you, pants readjusted.

It was as if nothing happened, but you both knew that was untrue.

“Why should I?” You wrinkled your nose as you focused on the ground.

“Because, I care about you,” Coriolanus replied without thought, gaze softening. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I don’t think you care for me,” you said in a tone so hushed, Coriolanus wasn’t sure if you even meant for him to hear. Then, you met his eyes. The fire had only been dulled, not put out. “I think you’re a liar, Coriolanus Snow.”

His hands fell to clasp yours. He brought one to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the back of your palm. You eyed him as if he were some sort of predator, but he managed a smile nonetheless.

“Let me prove it to you, and you’ll come to learn you’ve been wrong about me all along.”

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #yandere coriolanus snow #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #quin-ns writing

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targaryenluvs · 3 months

Text

— THUNDERSTRUCK!

pairings: luke castellan x daughterofzeus!reader, percy jackson x fem!reader (platonic & half-siblings)

summary: the one where percy’s babysitter ends up at camp with him, and may or may not be the child of a certain stormy man as well as falling in love with a thief (of her heart & other things).

warnings: fluff, percy takes on the brotherly role, protective perce, flirting, violence, protective reader over percy, possessive luke thoughts, kisses, makeoutish, timegap

wordcount: 4.2k (i went crazy)

a/n: i think i’ve seen this film before— (thalia wya) since a lot of people love protective percy/persassy! hope you like it!! i listened to it whilst making it sooooo i recommend!

taglist: @apollos-calliope @purplerose291 @loveyava @ohh-to-be-rich-and-pretty @iluvthemoonandthestars @chr1sgirl4life @liv1104 @fairycheol @coryoskywalker@perseus-jackass @hottiewifeyyyy @lizheartsyou @repostingmyfavs @lovelyforesst

you and percy had experienced so much in the last days, now at a random camp, that had been scarcely explained to you by sally and grover as the four of you made your way to camp.

beforehand, you’d been finishing up on your last school assignment when a knock on your door drew you from your laptop, then percy barged his way into your apartment soaking wet. “oh! okay what the hell? percy aren’t you freezing? what’re you doing here?” you’d since placed your laptop on the coffee table, jogging over to the door as percy smiled up at you, “montauk baby!”

you laughed, “montauk?” he nodded as you grinned, “i’ll be down in five, you are so lucky my flatmates aren’t here they’d make you scrub the wet floors.” once you were out of view, percy made it a point to shake his body and hair, droplets of water dispersing around the apartment. he hated your flatmates, two annoying boys who loved to stare at you. luckily you were too busy hauling ass with your backpack and gym bag, stuffed full of clothes and snacks.

sally greeted you with a smile, a hug and a kiss on the forehead, “how are you sweetheart?” your smile was practically blinding, “very excited, let’s hit the road!”

you’d already begun to tune out whilst sally explained, godly parentage and all. but not out of spite or confusion, only sadness. one of your parents weren’t actually your parent. whilst it seemed that your father was the obvious candidate, goddesses did exist as well. percy had never really been with his father let alone grown up with him for 18 years, so it was different for him than it was for you.

as if that wasn’t enough, grover being split in half as a goat had you rubbing your eyes, hoping for a different outcome when you opened them again, sorely disappointed when greeted with hooves and fur.

but nothing could have prepared you for watching sally’s demise. having had a hand in raising you, loving and shaping you into the amazing woman you were now, and now she was dust. snapping back into the moment a tad late, the sight of percy fighting the beast caused your heart to beat a thousand miles quicker.

“perce!” you’d tried to aid him, pulled back by grover, whom you’d recently learned was actually 24. in another, less serious moment, maybe you would’ve listened to your elder and his pleas for you not to interfere. your feet carried you to percy and the minotaur, grabbing a nearby rock you threw it as a distraction, momentarily drawing its attention. percy then stabbed it with its own horn, reducing it to dust as he fell down and you held him.

“please, please stay awake. stay with me perce.” you clutched onto him, but your pleas went unheard as grover’s did with you. his eyes fluttered to a close, but not before you heard him whisper, “mom?” your heart clenched at the misunderstanding.

you stuck by him the whole time, when chiron and the others found you, whilst he was in the infirmary, you stayed by his side. when grover promised you that he’d be there for percy, and urged you to eat and take a walk, you relented.

the dark haired boy had his head down whilst walking, in his head he’d been contemplating whether or not he wanted to visit the newcomers. which he did either way. he ran right into you, as you met the ground and he profusely apologised, “i’m so sorry, i wasn’t watching where i was— going.” it was rare for luke castellan to be at a loss for words, but as he met your eye he didn’t care. you were undeniably gorgeous, messy y/h/c hair, sweet yet drained eyes, and a small smile drawn on your lips.

“you’re… so fine. like, as in— you’re okay. it’s okay, we both didn’t watch ourselves. not that i’m blaming you! just—,” you breathed out as he grinned, “i’m luke… castellan, head counsellor of hermes cabin.” you giggled as he scratched the back of his head, “i could’ve left off the last part huh?” he didn’t want to come off as bragging, but it did seem like he was. you scrunched your nose and eyes, “yeah, probably.”

he lent his arm to you, hauling you up. “i know my name, you know my name, you know your name. seems like i’m the odd one out.” luke grinned as you laughed, the two of you found it easy to talk to one another, “i’ll tell you, when you’ve earned it.” shrugging your shoulders, you turned on your heel heading for the infirmary.

luke stood behind and watched, his voice was distant but still loud enough for you, “what do i have to do to earn it?” you shook your head, quickly turning back to him to shout out, “if i tell you, then you won’t chase after me will you?” your smile was imprinted in luke’s head, he only wanted to see it more often, you more often. and he sure as hell wasn’t above a chase.

the rest of the day was spent settling you and percy in. once he’d awoken, he immediately asked after his mother, but of course that wasn’t possible.

your presence was the only thing that percy knew, helping him calm down. the two of you were completely new in a place where the people around you seemed to have been at forever. and whilst you’d barely talked the people around you, they all spoke about the pair of you.

your journey had seemed to reach the ears of all the campers, including a certain ares girl.

clarisse whole heartedly believed percy to have lied about his encounter with the minotaur, for whatever reason. you’d found that out when luke was taking percy on a tour, whilst you’d been talking to chiron about settling percy in.

on your way back you’d noticed her talking to him.

“you want attention around here dummy? better be ready for it when it comes.” she snickered as percy stumbled backwards, but not before you steadied him from behind. “you okay perce?” he nodded whilst you surveyed him for any injuries, once you’d deemed him to be okay, you pushed him behind you.

percy’s troubled past was not foreign to you, teasing and bullies and expulsions galore. you’d never held it against him, percy was your brother, and you knew who he was. he was kind, and funny, a joke up his sleeve at all times, wide eyed and curious of his surroundings, fiercely loyal and friendly to those he loved. at times his mouth got him in trouble, but at the end of the day, he was always your perce. the one who’d always ditch school to take care of you when you were sick, the one who glared and protected you against your roommates, the same perce who puked for hours when sally and you had indulged him in blue foods for his birthday. he was your brother, you couldn’t protect him at times, but you’d be damned if you let it happen right infront of you.

“he’s twelve, twelve years old. how old are you? you might think it’s hilarious to bully new kids around, but i sure as hell don’t. stay away from him.” clarisse scoffed, crossing her arms, “i don’t like liars, he is a liar. and so are you. admit you faked the minotaur killing.” it was your turn to scoff, “it happened, why the hell would we lie about it? get over yourself honestly, are we continuing the tour or what?” luke clicked his tongue, “see you around clarisse.”

he could tell you weren’t in the best mood so he took it upon himself to make you smile, “how much do you want to bet he ends up poking someone’s eye out?” you and luke stood side by side as percy adjusted his protective glasses, attempting to weld. “how much do you want to bet he starts a fire?”

as the three of you ran out your laughs mixed in with luke, “pay up!” percy scrunched his eyebrows, “you bet on me? that’s rude.” you ruffled his hair as he swatted your hand away, “as if you could do any better Y/N.” luke smiled at the slip of your name whilst you groaned, “guess i didn’t have to earn it.” luke whispered into your ear. percy didnt like the close proximity, so he injected himself in between you two.

the rest of the day was spent trying to find what percy was good at, and then laughing at his failed attempts. then percy being annoyed at you and luke.

you’d stuck by percy’s side the whole day to which he protested, “i can be alone for a minute yknow?” the two of you were currently walking back from dinner, “okay, one, two—,” he threw his head back and groaned, “you know what i mean.” your hand rested on percy’s shoulder, “i’ll give you some time okay? just make sure you get back to the cabin before curfew, i think it’s going to rain.” percy nodded, walking off to wherever.

but you weren’t alone for long.

“so, how’d i do?” luke took up the space percy had occupied moments ago, “what do you mean?” he walked infront of you before turning around, “did i earn it? your name?” the smile on your face was hard to fight as you averted your gaze to ground, face beginning to heat up at his smile, “i’d say yes, but percy told you my name anyways. but you did also earn something else.”

“and what’s that?”

“my company.”

luke liked the idea of that, “well then, i’ll do my best to deserve it. do you want to take a walk with me?” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, “isn’t curfew soon?” his hand was outstretched towards you, reminiscent of your first meeting, “lucky for you, i’m somewhat above the average camper.”

and so you took his hand, time and along the way his breath. just looking at you was enough to make him happy, the bitterness buried deep as he listened in for your laugh. admiring you in the moonlight, committing your face to memory.

your stomach hurt, bad.

the only times you laughed this hard were with percy. “there’s no way! you caught them trying to make out, twice?” luke nodded, “in the same night, basically infront of everyone. they’re both only eleven, so i’m guessing their understanding of relationships and privacy doesn’t span far.” you buried your face in your hands as luke shook his head, “uh-uh, if i’m talking to you, i need to see all of you.” you both sat at the dining pavilion, facing each other.

it only made you resort to hiding in between your knees next, “i can’t! i look crazy.” luke’s hands came to your wrists in an attempt to pry them away, which was successful, but then you hid by your knees. he did think about prying theme apart, but then blood shot to his face when he realised how sexual it was. so he rested his hands on your knees, which made you peek up at him. his eyes bore into yours, unrelenting and unashamed.

“you look gorgeous, all the time. and i seriously can’t hold a conversation with you if i can’t see your pretty face.” his words caused you to rise, legs coming down to rest on either side of the bench, “pretty huh? and what do you know about pretty girls?” luke crossed his arms as he smirked, “not much, just that i’m looking at the best one.” you smacked his chest, “god you’re such a flirt.” the two of you rose up from the table as luke smiled, “how can i not when you’re right here?”

you took in a deep breath, not expecting it to trap itself in your throat. you were alone, for once. you were alone. with an exceptionally strong, sweet, lovely guy, who seemed to have an affinity for you.

luke was revelling in your shyness, the more he got to know you the more he wanted to be with you. not only were you kind, but you stood your ground. even with clarisse, the second she targeted percy you stood in between the two. it was one of the many things he liked about you. he also liked the idea of stepping a little closer, maybe touching your face, kissing you?

as much as you wanted to get closer to him, you weren’t sure of yourself. and if it was past curfew then you couldn’t help but wonder if percy was safe and sound. “we should head back!” you spun around and began walking whilst luke sighed, “yeah, we should.”

you expected for him to either;

a) not be there

b) be asleep

c) be making his way back

not for him to be in the bathroom, held by clarisse and her friends shouting for you, “y/n!”

“let him go! now!” you screamed as you ran towards him, but clarisse held onto your arm, “he needs to learn his lesson.” you laughed, this girl and her stubbornness needed to be studied, “what the hell is wrong with you? my god he didn’t fake anything! he’s a poor kid who saw his own mother disappear infront of him! he’s terrified!” clarisse was strong, you’d give her a point for that.

but she ignited an ungodly amount of anger in your body. you pulled against her to get to percy as the storm outside made its presence known as you screamed, “let go!” thunder rattled through the air, striking outside the door, as clarisse and the girls were hurtled back by water. you immediately ran to percy, “are you okay? did they hurt you? i swear i’m going to—,” percy cut your rambling off with a tight hug, “you came.” the tears in your eyes fell free as you held onto him, “you called.”

annabeth stood at the door with luke whilst percy interrogated her, “are you stalking me annabeth?” their conversation was drowned out as luke made his way over to you, “are you okay?” he surveyed you for any outstanding differences, a cut or two. “i’m okay, i’m fine. thank you luke, i just need to get percy in bed. i’ve had enough of this camp for a day.”

you were on auto drive, the only thing on your mind was getting percy to your cabin, the ghost of a kiss you’d left on luke’s lips as you hurried out of the place didn’t register until you were in bed. luke seemed to enter years later, quiet steps to his bed alerting you. “luke?” your voice was hushed whilst calling out for him, aware of the other campers, “y/n?” he was in bed now, sat up.

“d’you mind if i—?” you gestured towards him and his mattress as his eyes lit up in recognition, “oh. oh! yeah.” you awkwardly shuffled into his bed, knees touching his as you sat facing one another, “do you wanna—?” “i’m sorry for…” the two of you overlapped, after a beat of silence just meeting his eye caused you two to break out in hushed giggles and laughter.

“i kissed you, very randomly. i’m sorry luke.” he shook his head and smiled, “it’s fine, i liked it.” your eyebrows travelled up as you straightened your back, “you.. you didn’t mind?” his hands held onto yours, “not at all, i haven’t known you long, and you haven’t known me. but i want to continue getting to know you sweetheart.”

your smile could’ve stretched miles across america, your eyes shone brightly, if you’d asked he would give you the world. he was going to, wouldn’t it be nice? having someone by his side through it all?

that night you both slept side by side, his arms seemed to envelope you entirely. his nose dug into your neck, uncomfortable but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. luke slept soundly that night, his hands trailing over you, in the night and morning. being awoken by a kiss, morning breath be damned.

“not that i don’t love it, but what’s got you in such a good mood?” luke continued kissing down your neck as you giggled, “it tickles!” he murmured whilst continuing, “i don’t care.” your hands ran through his curls, your morning bliss was ruined by a yelp of surprise.

“what the— y/n?!” percy’s face was pure disgust as you shoved luke to the side, not realising that you’d been on the edge of the bed until luke collided with the hard wood floors with an ‘oof’. “oh god, are you okay?” a thumbs up had you smiling, before you realised the mess that you were in with percy.

“how? when? why?”

“all those questions will be answered eventually, percy, it’s nothing crazy okay? just calm down.” percy scoffed, “nothing crazy? it’s basically only been a few weeks and he has his tongue down my sisters throat.” that sobered you up, sleep washed away, “sister? did you just—?”

“i don’t know, but please, just try not to around me.” percy felt slightly embarrassed at letting you know how he thought of you. how could he not expect you to be a sister? you’d been in his life forever. “okay, not to interrupt but—,”

“then don’t.” percy snapped as you groaned, “ignore his royal sassiness, continue luke.” luke brushed himself off as he continued to speak, “todays capture the flag.”

percy wanted to throw himself over a cliff.

everyone else was amped up, practicing with friends and strategising whilst he sat on the grass as you triple checked his armour, “i think i’m fine y/n, do you want some bubble wrap? extra security.” he joked as you sighed, “i just want to make sure you’re okay, is that so wrong?” percy sighed, “no, i guess not.” you held onto his shoulders as you looked into his eyes, “i’m sorry.”

before percy could even ask for the reason for your apology a sloppy peck on his cheek was left behind as you ran off. “y/n!” you laughed at his screechy voice, but chirons voice explaining the rules shut you up.

the game seemed to be going well, you hoped so.

you were currently viewing percy floss on a rock, which made you want to push him over it, which you couldn’t for obvious reasons you settled for pelting his armour with rocks and pebbles. “ow!” you laughed at his exclamation, knowing it hadn’t hurt him, “please, it only hit your armour.” percy shrugged, “still.”

maybe you’d been to engrossed in staring at pebbles and thinking about luke but the girls managed to surround you. sword in hand you rose from the floor, tossing percy’s things his way. your own sword clutched tightly, “flags that way, it’s not here.” clarisse smirked as she held onto her own spear, “we know. yeah, glory’s fine. revenge is more fun.” you shook your head, disbelief filling you, “god you just don’t stop do you?” she laughed, “no maiming. it’s like the one rule.”

“yeah, i guess i’ll lose dessert privileges for a while. i’ll live.” your sword clashed with the girls, grunts ringing out through the air as you held your own. you weren’t concerned for yourself, only percy. you yelled out for him when he tripped over the log, “perce!”

clarisse stood infront of him, “i’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not. i just want you to admit you're a fraud, and that you’re having Y/N lie for you. it’d make me feel better. are you feeling up to that yet?” percy stumbled as he ran, you shoved the girl to the side and followed along, “keep running, don’t look back!” clarisse sighed, “guess that's a no.”

you ended up on the shore, percy rolling over as he stumbled to his feet, they all surged forwards as you continued to fight. clarisse mainly focused on percy whilst you held off the other two. one of the girls was overconfident, believing herself to be able to take you down with a few hits. your hand managed to slide into her armour on her shoulder, wrapping your hand around it you slung her into the water with all your strength. cringing when you heard her slam on the floor.

the other girl huffed, “wonder what we’ll do when you lose. maybe i’ll go over to your precious little percy, beat him around. a few stabs and slices might teach him the meaning of honesty.” her words were fuel to the fire inside you, your hands and body felt alive the second you began fighting, as if you were meant for it. you were going to beat this girl to the ground.

the victory of your team wasn’t enough to stop you, a moment of hesitance formed when luke planted the red flag into the floor as he celebrated with chris. spoiling his happiness was chris, “isn’t that your girl?” luke’s head whipped to look over at you on the shore, sword in hand as you faced off with the girl, percy held up by clarisse.

“it’s one thing to threaten me, but percy? you’re going to beg me to stop.” the campers were quiet, the entire area was abuzz with anticipation. your yell and hers broke the silence as you charged at eachother.

hit after hit, you continued pushing her back. swords colliding as you put all your force into the fight, the swords neared her throat. her terrified expression made you grin, “told you.” her legs were swept out from underneath her as she slammed into the floor, sword taken from her grasp by you.

luke cheered when she fell, igniting a string of applause and support from your team. but right now? all you could focus on was her. “you think this means anything? i’ve been fighting my whole life, you’re nothing. he’s nothing but a lying loser who lost his mommy.” the girl spit out blood, her teeth painted crimson. the power you felt looking down on her was unmatched by anything in your life. glancing backwards you viewed annabeth speaking with percy, who, thankfully, wasn’t fatally injured.

your grip on the hilt of your sword tightened as you lowered yourself, knee resting on either side of her waist. up above, dark clouds began to form, threatening a storm again. rage surged through you as you picked her up by her armour, “say it again! say it again and i’ll break you in half bitch!” your screams echoed as the campers watched on, you shoved her to the floor before raising your arms, your sword held high as you struck it down. right next to her head, simultaneous lighting struck all around you.

the thunder was deafening, but with the girl out of your way your focus came back with only one thought, percy. you turned around only to view percy standing in the water, a trident above his head. “percy!” you pointed towards it as he looked up in shock, what you didn’t expect was for him to point at you.

a lightning bolt, right above you.

luke’s jaw was close to the floor, you and percy had been claimed, both forbidden children. now this was awkward. but he swallowed his anger and made his way to you when he could. by then you’d already spoken with chiron, and had the situation explained to you. currently you were settling into your new cabin.

a knock on your door drew your attention as you called out, “who is it?”

“hint, it’s not clarisse. so don’t strike me down with lightning, i quite like being unburnt.” the voice you’d hoped to hear flowed through the room, “come in, please.” luke closed the door behind him as he made his way to you, “please? you really wanted to see me didn’t you?” he teased as you rolled your eyes.

“you’re not wrong.” your hands pulled on the drawstrings of his hoodie, tying them together and undoing. luke took in your change of demeanour, brushing stray hairs behind your ear, “you want to talk about it?” your lips pressed into a tight line, “not really. can we just sit? maybe read?” luke picked up a book from your bag whilst you laid down.

he laid down next to you as you settled your head onto his chest, “percy’s okay, i spent about an hour with him, talking. isn’t that funny? i always treated him like he was my brother, and he is.” he hummed, leaning his head onto yours, “makes sense, seeing you beat the crap out of the ares girl, knew you had to be something special. it was also very hot to watch.” you shifted to look up at luke, his smirk was evident as you buried your face.

“don’t get shy on me now, i’m just love struck. i have a lovely girl on my side, how am i supposed to hold myself back?” your hand traced a lightning bolt over his chest, “lovestruck huh?” he nodded along proudly, “maybe not lovestruck.” you sat up a bit, “what do you mean?” the concern laced in your voice was hard to miss.

“i’m thunderstruck.”

“and i’m going to murder you.” your hands attacked his side as he laughed.

“i take it back i swear!”

#luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians

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animeshotsh · 3 months

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Chains | Husk x SisOverlord!Reader / Yandere!Alastor x Reader |

Summary: Its been years since you saw your brother...

No one expected the doors of the Hotel to burst Open that afternoon. Vaggie was the first to react, being ready to fight whever decided to attack that day (it was becoming something normal).

Charlie on her part was jumping towards the stranger, ready to shake hands and introduce herself.

"Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, im Charlie, whats your na-" Before Charlie could finish two voices sounded in the back.

"(Y/N)?"

"(Y/N) MY DEAR!!"

Husk and Alastor voices echoed in the looby, the only response their got were a set of flashing sharp poker cards being directed at the radio Demon and Husk.

"ITS HAS BEEN 12 YEARS AND THATS ALL YOU GONNA SAY?" You screamed at both men.

Husk looked away, shame over his cat face. Long time ago you two used to rule. The brother and sister duo, the ones who could destroy everyone. That was till Husk destroyed himself, giving his soul to the radio Demon. Leaving you behind.

Alastor was amused by your anger. He knew you hated him, he was the one who took your brothers soul after all. And he never felt remorse because of it, he was almost happy he did it. It was the only way he got to see you, ever if you only showed him hate.

He would take whatever from you.

"Wait...are you Husk's gilfriend?" Charlie still not catching up asked, getting the most bizarre look from you.

"Hell no, im his sister" You responded making the princess blush and apologie too much. "Its fine, I know he does not talk a lot about me"

Charlie could hear the sadness in your voice. She took a moment to see you, and now she saw how similar Husk and you were. Cat face a pair of wings, the colors were different and so were your eyes, but there was something that just connected you two.

"This is (Y/N), The Casino Demon, you bet against her and you lose your Soul" Alastor explained appearing besides you. "She and Husk used to rule together"

"Yeah, well thats in the past now" You responded to Alastor both of you killing each other with your eyes.

The tension was broken by Husk, "why are you here?"

"Im here because you are here and because I want to redeem myself" You responded with your head high, not looking at the obvious smirk from Alastor or the questioning look from Husk.

Charlie quickly took your hand, guiding you towards a desk to check you in, she ramble about the hotel, the guests and things they did in here.

You kind of feel bad for her, you could see her passion but the only reason you were in here was because of Husk. Ever since Alastor took his soul it ended being a game of finding him. Alastor would make Husk's soul appear and since you two were connected as brother and sister you would fly there only to find him gone and a smirking Radio Demon.

But this time, his soul had been in one place for a long time. So you decided to use this chance to be by your brothers side.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

Later that same night you went to the bar, Husk tried to ignore you, cleaning glasses but ended facing you. No one dared to speak first, silent tears fell from your eyes, slowly your hands reached his, his fluffy hair welcoming you.

"I have missed you so much" You said smiling at him. Husk felt his heart break, he knew how Alastor played with you using him. He had tried many times to make you hate him, but you never did. You also never fought Alastor knowing he would use Husk to get you.

"Lets have a drink for the old days"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~

After many drinks you went back to your room. So many years apart...Husk and you had so much to catch on.

"You know you cant have him back"

The radio Demon appear behind you, you ignored him not wanting to fall for his games.

"Not without a deal at least"

"And what would that deal be?" You asked not looking back at the Demon.

In a flash he got closer to you, not touching you but you could feel his breath down your neck.

"Your soul for his, be mine for the eternity and free him" Hell, you could feel the psycho smile and listen the radio laughts.

"Goodnight Alastor"

You left him alone outside your room. Alastor smiled to himself, hands behind his back he started to walk to his own room.

"Just a bit more" he whispered his body turning to his full Demon form.

"Just a bit more to be mine"

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #husk x reader

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angelltheninth · 3 months

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Genshin Men + Slowburn Romance or Not

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Thoma, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Kaveh, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Zhongli x Reader

Tags: fluff, dating, falling in love, kissing, confession, misunderstandings, pining

A/N: I am a fan of slowburn myself. How about you?

Kaeya is blunt with his interest in you and asks you out as soon he begins to like you as more then a friend. He can be away for a bit so for him its best to get everything out in the open when he can spend time with you. He can get more kisses in that way too.

Diluc loves the song and dance between the two of you. He never wants to give you the impression that he doesn't like you, yet he enjoys the way you blush when you have to think about his true feelings. It makes his eventual kiss hit a lot more suddenly.

Itto only takes a while because he can't figure out a good way to confess to you. In fact every time he tries there's someone or something there to interrupt him. The poor oni can't get the words out which leads him to screaming it out in a restaurant.

Thoma pines after you hard for years before you start dating. Never planned to tell you how long he's been pining for you for until he casually mentioned liking you for a while. You watched his face go from pale as a ghost to pink to red as he told you of his crush on you.

Childe never takes his time with matters of the heart. He always speaks his mind, perhaps a bit too often and it makes the others tease you but he doesn't care how he comes off. Being with you makes him happy, he won't waste the time you have together.

Dottore doesn't see the point of not telling you he wants you when he's already made it obvious. It's not just for your body either, although that is a great bonus. You better not take too long to decide because as much as he likes you you're not irreplaceable eventually.

Pantalone will hold back from saying anything so he doesn't ruin your professional relationship with him. There is nothing more he would like then to call you his own but it will have to wait for a while. When the time is right he will court you, sweep you off your feet, marry you.

Kaveh may flirt a bit here and there but is rather shy when it comes to taking the step to date you. Because of this it takes you a good few months of flirting back and forth to have your first kiss, and only after that does he ask you out on a date. He's sure you like him back now.

Neuvillette doesn't have that great of a measurement of how much time passed when he's with you so his procrastination isn't intentional. He wants it to be perfect for you, but that makes you impatient. You don't need perfection, you just need him loving you.

Wriothesley isn't the one to hesitate in any situation, most of the time he can't afford to waste time anyways. You are no exception although he does try to be a bit more gentle about it. As soon as he gets that first kiss he can't seem to keep quiet about it.

Zhongli misunderstands you bringing him food for you courting him. He begins to treat you as his mate, even going so far as to call you that. There is no taking it slow because he skipped the whole dating step entirely and went right to thinking you're fated for each other.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #itto x reader #thoma x reader #childe x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #kaveh x reader #neuvillette x reader #wriothesley x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff

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randombush3 · 19 days

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(extremely talented, creative) stalker

alexia putellas x reader

based on this and a poem from when i was little. i chose alexia because she fit the character more and i rushed this immensely because i was being pestered for attention by multiple creatures. oh and i went for something decently light-hearted bc these hozier fics have been affecting my soul and ruining my spotify daylists.

happy monday people x

p.s. not proof-read because it's lunchtime and i'm hungry (edit: i just did my proof-read now and i've realised that it was in fact not lunchtime??? it was past lunchtime and i was just zoned out!)

Alexia doesn’t care much for art. Sure, she admires the effort, the time such talent sits behind a canvas and marks something that was once blank until others begin to value it. She agrees with the masses about the beauty of quaint watercolour paintings of the coast, and she lets Mapi rave about charcoal and graphite and oils as if she understands what is so special about the varying media.

She knows she is only here today because the art is about sports. The gallery seems almost reluctant to allow the athletes in, worried they have brought with them their football boots and cones to dribble around, but it would be bad practice to prohibit the muses from the collection. She isn’t an idiot, though, and she knows that no amount of forced reading about the artist and other sophisticated matters will slip her seamlessly into the crowd.

There are lots of people; people she has never heard of, but make it clear they are far superior to her by the way in which their eyes politely drop to the tattoos inked onto her calloused hands. Their skin is soft, accustomed to the stems of crystal champagne flutes, and the drawings that hold so much personal meaning to the footballer are scrutinised to the point of silent… offence.

So much for appreciators of art, she thinks to herself, counting down the minutes until it is acceptable for her to leave.

With a huff and a vow to never – no matter how much she earns – forget where she has come from, Alexia staggers, uncomfortable in these particular heels, towards the painting she deems easiest to understand.

It is the largest in the room: deep, crimson reds on top of familiar greens, streaks of gold falling out of a ponytail.

Call Alexia egotistical, but anyone would be drawn to a painting of themselves.

The artist has done a good job, she guesses, not entirely sure if there is a deeper meaning behind the grass stains on her socks or the crumpled shading of her Spain jersey. It is a little creepy that someone she does not know has captured her likeness so expertly, so practised.

“The nose isn’t quite right,” a voice says beside her.

Alexia turns in surprise, amused enough by the stranger’s observation to examine her painted face, eyes not drawn from how majestic her image is beginning to seem. She sees no obvious issue, and so she replies, “I think it’s fine.”

“Just fine?”

She is still staring at herself, now impressed by the grandeur of the painting; its size, its quality. “Well, I am unsure how someone painted me so accurately when I was never called in for a… I don’t know, a consultation? And it seems a little weird to me that my hair is loose, because I tend to slick it back so it doesn’t fall out of my ponytail, and, you know, I always have something written on my boots, but otherwise, it’s fine. I doubt anyone here has ever watched a football match, so none of this will matter to them.”

“It doesn’t bother you that someone might pay millions for a painting that you have deemed not-quite-right?”

The voice is somewhat too interested, and suddenly Alexia swivels around to face its owner properly, worried she has spoken her mind to a journalist.

“Those millions go to a charity that will improve women’s sports every–”

You are definitely not a journalist, although once, when art really wasn’t paying, you had off-handedly typed out a few articles for one of the bigger galleries.

Alexia knows you are not a journalist because you are dressed to be in front of the cameras, not behind them.

Your hands hang by your sides, but in a rather unnatural manner as though you are itching to do something else, and she is briefly overcome by the horror that you seem elegant enough to be a potential buyer. Has she put you off?

“Oh,” you interrupt, “don’t be so profound. Sometimes you footballers sound like change-making machines.”

“There is change to be made,” she responds indignantly.

“Hence the exhibition,” you allow with a little smirk, nodding towards the rest of the room. Although the biggest of the collection, you had asked for your painting to be displayed in the corner; a filter, in a sense, to ensure no one throws money at the largest thing in the room just because they can. “It creeps you out to be painted?”

The question is curious, but Alexia no longer feels like she has been caged in an interrogation room.

She thinks about her answer for a moment, torn between returning to gaze at the expanse of the scene in front of her or staring at you, wondering if you count as one of the works of art on display.

“I have never met the artist,” she explains neutrally. You laugh, and it sounds infused with champagne and nervousness. “What? It’s like having a stalker. An extremely talented, creative stalker, but someone who studies me in secret nonetheless.”

“No, I understand. She must have researched you until the ends of the Earth.”

“The artist is a woman?” She isn’t sure she is surprised, but she asks you anyway, wanting to anchor you to the spot.

“Alexia, this is an exhibition for women’s sports.” Your point is valid, but you have said her name and she is far more intrigued by the way that had sounded to praise you for your intelligence. You let out an airy breath and click your tongue. “I’d even say, given by the way she has painted you from the back, that the artist fancies you.”

“It’s the squats,” she easily replies with a giggle. “Who is the artist?”

You take a step towards her, the sharp points of your heels clacking against the concrete floor. She follows your index finger to the white plaque beside the canvas, reading the name written in small, black letters.

“I haven’t heard of her.”

Alexia sounds so thoughtful that you have to hide your smile behind your palm, coughing to provide an excuse for the action.

“Because you’ve heard of quite a few artists, haven’t you?”

“I know the main four.”

“The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”

“No.”

Again, you laugh, and it is melodious and rich and Alexia wants to hear it for the rest of her life. Which is not normal, she tells herself, because you are some loaded stranger and she is only here for another hour before she can escape back to the pitch and her teammates who like her tattoos and admire her and respect her hard work without seeing her as some tacky social-climber who scrounged an invite to an area of society where she is institutionally unwanted.

“Picasso,” she then offers, rather petulantly, looking at you with a childish frown. In her head, she estimates the distance between your bodies, noticing how you have not returned to your original position.

“Ah, well done. He’s quite niche.” She doesn’t appreciate the teasing, and so she steps sideways to… put a stop to it somehow. Obviously, the plan had never truly been formulated, and it comes across as a half-lunge to push you away, but then you are swinging your arms as though the conversation is boring you and she desperately wishes you’d stay put.

“What do you think about the painting?” she fires into the shortened space between you, the question wrapping around you like a rope that ties you to the spot.

“It’s boring.” She scoffs, because after all, it is a painting of her. “The poor artist must have been tortured by the task, having to force her eyes to stay open while watching football matches.”

And if Alexia were not so distracted by the way your swinging hand has begun to brush against her own, she would probably catch you out there and then.

(But your touch is electric and she is otherwise engaged.)

“Like, come on, can’t the sports photographers just get their pictures blown up? No one needs such an outrageously huge portrait of Alexia Putellas in their home, or stadium, or whatever. I reckon the artist is now regretting the angle she painted from, anyway, in case some pervert with more money than sense bids for it and hangs it up in his bedroom.”

“Bedroom?”

The tips of Alexia’s ears go red, a stark contrast to the expensive silver hoops she sports, and you stop your fidgeting, hand resting on top of hers – perhaps unintentionally – as her misunderstanding wedges an awkward pause into the middle of your rant.

“Sorry,” you apologise, “that was probably not the best thing to say, considering it’s a painting of you.”

Alexia runs through what you have said, hoping her subconscious has caught it while her mind was preoccupied with what your sexual orientation might be. “Why have you come here if you are so against the principle of it?”

“I was required to,” you explain, through half-gritted teeth and a jaw that tenses with leftover annoyance from a conversation you had with the coordinator.

Seizing the opportunity to get a humorous punch back, Alexia quickly fumbles out a, “someone’s important.”

She’d celebrate her victory over you, the way you blush in embarrassment, if you hadn’t started anxiously playing with her fingers. Suddenly, the air that bridges the gap between you is set alight and Alexia stares at where you are connected.

You hastily pull away. “Sorry,” you say for a second time. “I have to sell this, and I’m nervous.”

“Sell wh– The painting?”

“No, Alexia, I’ve been sent by Real Madrid to hold you hostage so I have to sell this act.” Briefly, fear washes over the footballer’s face, tanned skin paling at the idea that you have a weapon concealed in the satin folds of your dress. Then, your hand makes a decisive movement and your fingers are intertwining with hers before she can run to safety. “I thought it was best to lure you in by flirting with you.”

“You’ve been… flirting with me?”

“God, imagine if I actually were here to kidnap you.” You hold up your joined hands so that she can see for herself. “Is your weakness women who bully you?”

She blushes again, unsure how to handle what you have insinuated.

Alexia grasps onto what little dignity remains and straightens herself, shoulders rolling back as she emulates the confidence she has been painted with. “Only pretty women,” she drawls.

She is about to use whichever line appears in her mind first, completely unashamed by it because she has guessed you would tease her no matter what leaves her mouth, but some evil, cruel person clinks a small fork against their glass, clearing their throat, and your hands quickly return to your body, your attention drawn away from the conversation.

“Thank you all for coming,” announces the event coordinator, clearly gearing up for a speech. “There will be time for more chatting later, but I cannot resist showing off our most talented artist any longer.”

You roll your eyes. The expression is directed at Alexia, who chuckles privately, sunshine blooming in her chest that you have spared a silent comment just for her.

“Y/n, darling, where are you?”

An authoritative gaze searches through the crowd and lands on you.

The dots connect, Alexia begins to feel like an idiot, and you are sashaying away before she can ask you to stay.

#woso #woso x reader #randombush3 #barca femeni #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 2 months

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Omfg I ate that Vox fic up! The one where he hypnotized the reader after a long fight of them nearly being taken from him. Can you do a part 2 please? Like when the reader eventually learns he basically forced them to sign the contract and they find a way to be immune to his hypnosis? He goes absolutely nuts despite literally owning their soul. He's canonically a control freak and seems to even have some yandere traits. I hope I'm not going against your rules! You don't have any posted so I just wanna ask! Thank you for being awesome! :D Don't hesitate to turn down this request. Write what makes you feel comfortable. Just please respond so I and everyone else knows not to make a similar request in the future. Lots of love!

ABSOLUTELY!! I did take this in a slightly different direction, but hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Lowkey thinking of doing a Vox POV of this later and maybe even a part three...

Vox isn't actually in this much, but I feel a loose actual plot coming together and this is what naturally flowed for me.

I hope y'all are ready for more angst... plus a cliff-hanger <3

More Than Anything Part 2 [Vox x Reader]

Part 1

Part 2.5

"You controlling prick!"

Vox ducked as you threw a pillow at him. Even in your righteous anger, you'd never actually truly try to hurt him, but by god were you pissed.

Despite Vox's obvious disdain for the Hazbin Hotel and its association with Alastor, you visited the hotel occasionally to catch up with your friend Angel Dust and give some much-deserved love to his pet pig Fat Nuggets. It was during one of these visits that you ran into Alastor, who immediately looked at you with disgust in his ever-present smile.

"Really now, my dear," he said as he shook his head in disapproval. "It's already enough of a shame that you have such poor taste in a romantic partner, but to give your soul to him as well? I thought you were smarter than that."

The overlord could see the aura of Vox's ever-annoying electric cords locked around your soul like chains. You'd been confused and his eye twitched with annoyance as he realized what Vox had done to you. To say you were livid after he explained that you'd been tricked was an understatement.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," Vox pleaded as you fumed at him in his room. "But you left me no other choice! You weren't listening to me and if I didn't bind your soul, then Satan knows what could have happened to you by now."

"Just because you don't fucking believe in my ability to look out for myself doesn't mean you get to just take my soul!" You screamed with hot, angry tears flowing down your face. You wipe at them, only crying harder at the frustration of the tears you couldn't control in your anger. You felt like they undermined your emotions.

Vox's magic sparked around him as he tried his best not to get angry and start a fight with you. He was terrified and was that much more susceptible to his angry tendencies in moments like these. It took everything in him to try and calm himself, not wanting to push you away further. His heart dropped and his blood ran cold as he saw you pull a large bag out of the closet and start shoving clothes into it.

"W-Where are you going?" Vox panicked as he crossed the room.

"The hotel," you said with quiet fury, as you stepped away from the closet and went to the nightstand with your personal things on it. "I need some space and it's the one fucking place I know you'd rather die again than follow me to."

"Ŷ̸̪͕o̸̢̿̿ū̷̫ ̶̬͂c̶̺̾͂a̴͒͘͜n̴̫̂̔'̶̡̉t̶͙̝̄͒," Vox said, his voice starting to glitch as his panic increased. "You've heard the news, the extermination is in a week and the angels plan on attacking there first. There's no guarantee they'll keep to the date after how much little miss dumbass pissed off heaven. It's not safe there."

You pull your bag over your shoulder and the look you gave him will haunt him for the rest of his afterlife. "It's safer than here."

It breaks him all the more when you shield your eyes from him and storm past him so he can't hypnotize you into staying. Vox is paralyzed with fear like never before. He wanted to scream, to beg, to stop you from leaving him, but he couldn't do anything as his system glitched so hard it forced him into a reboot. When he came to, he was alone. You were gone.

Charlie was more than willing to let you stay at the hotel. The two of you hadn't had the chance to really ever speak before, but she was always friendly when you came to visit Angel, even after you explained to her there was no way you'd be able to become a guest.

In exchange, you were happy to help set up the defenses against the extermination. You got to know all of the other members of the hotel and the work helped you push down the burning ache in your chest.

Vox had been trying to contact you nonstop. You eventually turned off your phone, driven insane by the wall of notifications of him begging you to respond in any way. He knew you were okay for the time being. He was literally connected to your soul. But as the extermination day grew closer, his panic only increased. If it wasn't for Valentino and Velvette holding him back, there were several times he genuinely would have set aside his pride and come to the hotel just to get you.

It was after helping Husk and Cherri put up a particularly tricky barrier with the dwindling supplies that Angel found you taking a break. He passed you a water which you took gratefully as he slid down the wall and joined you on the floor.

"So," he started. "Are we going to ever talk about the reason why you're hiding out here?"

"Do we have to?" You groan, running your fingers through your hair. Despite the smiles and laughter you'd been sharing with your newfound friends as you all prepared for the potential end of it all, the dark circles on your eyes gave away what was lurking underneath.

For as angry as you were at Vox, you missed him. You missed feeling him curl against you in bed. You missed being woken up at unholy hours early in the morning because Vox couldn't start his day without giving you a kiss and telling you how much he loved you. You missed his shitty taste in shows and how he'd collapse into your arms after a long day at work.

Angel sighed, looking at the boarded-up lobby. "Look I may not get it, but you love the guy, right? Are you really content with possibly dying in a couple of days for a cause you're not even a part of, just because you're pissed with him?"

"He stole my soul, Angie" You frown at him.

"And that is fucked up as hell," he agrees. "But I know you and I know there ain't no way in hell you're actually satisfied leaving shit like this."

"I just-," you start before groaning. "How the hell are we supposed to come back from this? I doubt he'd ever void the contract. He's too convinced he's right for that."

Angel sighed, setting his own cup aside. "Honestly toots, you're not gonna like it, but... He kinda has a point."

You whip your head up to look at him and he holds up his hands defensively. "Not saying that stealing your soul was the right call. Believe me, if anyone gets how fucked it is having your soul controlled by a sociopath with a big ego, it's me. But you're not exactly in the safest of places, dollface. Not to mention, you're dating an overlord who's in a trio determined to piss off as many big shots as possible. His mind may not be in the right place, but his heart kinda is."

You take Angel's words to heart and sigh as you bury your face in your arms. "I hate it, but you're right... I just... I don't want to hold him back. I don't want to be the person that needs to be protected. I want to be his equal, not his problem."

"Then tell him that," Angel sighs. His gaze drifts to the bar and smiles fondly. "Someone recently has taught me how important being real with yourself is. It's okay to be flawed. No one got stuck in this shithole cause we were perfect, y'know?"

He nudged you with a grin as he added, "Plus, come on. Can you imagine how many bitches in hell would kill to have a sexy fucker that wants nothing more than to love ya and keep ya safe? I love you toots, but for fucks sake, pick a struggle."

You snort, shaking your head as you lightly swat at his arm. "Fuck you for being right about shit all the time."

"It's one of my best assets," Angel smirked. "Y'know, aside from all the fluff."

You laughed as he puffed up his chest and by the end of the evening, you'd decided to head back. As much as you loved Angel and wanted nothing more than to be by his side as the extermination drew near, he had a point. This wasn't your fight and there was a controlling dumbass that had been blowing up your phone ever since you left that was praying for your return.

After exchanging promises to see each other after the extermination, you left the hotel. You had an idiot to see.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #angel dust #the tiniest nudge at huskerdust #i know this wasnt super vox focused but the next part def will be

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bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 1 month

Text

All Thanks to You - T.Nott

Summary - At first, Theo found her gifts sweet and kind but the longer they went on the more they annoyed him. He had the false assumption that she was chasing after his money and status but he was very wrong. He didn't realize how wrong he was until he overhears her sticking up for him in library.

Pairings - Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Use of Y/N, female reader, profanity, stress

Author's Note - I'm getting through all of my requests slowly but surely, this will probably be my first and last post of the day. I'll try my best to keep banging these out but unfortunately today was my last day of spring break and my vacation from work. Thank you for being patient!

Based off the request by an anon

Expect delays in my posting! My semester has started and I am taking 4 classes! Please be patient with me!

My requests are open!

my masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

It was almost disgustingly obvious how much she liked Theo, except to the boy himself. It had taken him ages to figure it all out. He thought it was weird at first, he was always getting baked treats, a seat saved, books that he ended up loving and notes sent to him. Then, it started to annoy him, he thought that she was just trying to get to him because of his status and money. That of course wasn’t her intention but he didn’t figure that one out until he overheard a conversation, one revolving around him and all of his flaws and untrue rumors.

He was about to jump in himself until the sweet voice of the girl sending him all of these good things chimed in.

“That’s not true at all. Theo is so kind and sweet. He cares so much about his friends and only acts cold to people like you because you believe and spread all of these bullshit lies. He’s not rude, he’s not unnerving, he especially isn’t ugly or gross to girls. He’s sweet and kind and loving and a great person and if you can’t see that, then don’t consider me your friend anymore,” She ranted before packing up her books and walking away, not expecting to bump into the boy himself. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going, I’ll get out of your way.”

“Wait,” He pleaded, having every expectation of her walking away but she stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, “Thank you for sticking up for me. I know I said your gifts were annoying but I don’t really think that. I honestly thought you were after me for money or to boost your status or something, I shouldn’t have assumed that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. You’re a good person Theo. I’d love to talk more but I really have to go study for the potions exam,” She told him.

“Study with me, I have an O in the class, I can help you.” The smile on her face brightened the room, making his heart skip a beat, a smile finding its way onto his own lips.

“Okay! I know the best spot in the library,” She chirped, grabbing his hand and leading him to the top floor into a quiet corner. The two of them studied together for nearly an hour before she spoke again, “How in the fuck do you make a draught of the living dead again? I can’t remember anything right now, my brain is fried,” She groaned, resting her forehead on crossed arms.

“You need a break, love. Let’s go to the kitchen and get some food from the house elves,” Theo offered.

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

“No, I’m friends with the prefects on duty, let’s go before they change shifts.”

The whole way down to the kitchen, the two were holding hands, neither of them had even noticed until Draco stopped them in the stairwell leading down to their destination. “What do we have here? The infamous Theodore Nott holding hands with his admirer?”

“Oh shove off, we need you to cover the kitchen while we get food,” Theo told his friend, still holding onto her hand even though they were caught.

“What’s in it for me?” Draco asked.

Before Theo could open his mouth, Y/N answered, “Pumpkin pasties, green apples and cauldron cakes. I see you eating those a lot so I assume you like them?”

“You assume correctly, fine, let’s go lovebirds.”

Holding up her end of the promise, she got Draco his favorite sweets, snacking with the two Slytherin boys. The blond boy had taken a liking to her, finding her genuine, funny and observational. The bond between Theo and Y/N had grown and only got stronger by the day. It was no surprise to any of their friends when they started dating not long after studying together.

They continued to have study dates until the day of the Potions exam. She was extremely nervous and Theo was nervous for her. They didn’t get to see each other until dinner that day. Taking her usual spot next to Theo at the Slytherin table, casually sliding a paper to him. He furrowed his eyebrows before opening the paper, the red ink stared him right in the face.

“You got an O?! Bellissima, that's amazing! I’m so proud of you!” Theo exclaimed as he hugged her tightly, placing kisses on her head.

“All thanks to you, handsome,” She smiled at him.

Theo kissed her deeply on her lips causing groans and gags around them. Neither of them having a care in the world other than her O.

#harry potter #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x fem!reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott #theo nott x you #theodore nott x fem!reader #theodore nott #request

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twitterpated-passion · 3 months

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A Brutish Love | Monster Boyfriend

You never left your village much, you never saw the need to. When you did, it was to the same place to forage berries when they were in season in the Springtime. You had to be sneakier the past couple of years though, the elders warning people of an Orc tribe living nearby. They didn’t want anyone leaving and being caught without realizing it, just for the village to be raided or set ablaze, or both.

While you understood the concerns, you never saw the need to fear the fact that they were nearby, holding the thought process that everyone needed a place to live. Though, that was before you were caught.

^___________^___________^

The sun was setting, which meant that everyone was either indoors, getting ready to close their store or spending time getting the last bit of the late spring sun before retiring for the night. You, however, thought it was the perfect time to sneak out of your own cabin to go to the little spot that had an abundance of berries that you used to pick with your parents when you were young.

Your father was a baker, never let a single berry that went uneaten go to waste. And your mother was a seamstress, prided herself in her work and always reassured you that whatever you stained with the dripping berry juice, she’d either get the stain out or make you a new one. You missed them.

You grabbed your father’s old basket, lined it with your mother’s old towel for it and set off into the woods, keeping a lantern in your hand to light your way once the sun made its way out of sight and the moon lifted to show itself in the sky.

Every footstep sounded louder than you knew they were, your eyes rapidly darting back towards the village until it was out of sight and you found your way in the little area that was filled to the brim with berry bushes. You kneeled by one, setting your lantern down and picking them, letting them fall with a silent thump into your basket. When you picked enough from one bush, you moved to another, and then another, until your basket was full and your lantern was practically out, leaving the moonlight to guide you. But as you stood and dusted off your clothes, you heard heavy footsteps, and you tensed, rushing with your basket to a tree, trying to hide behind it.

You heard a voice before you were able to fully hide, though. “I know you’re there.”

Your heart raced, pounding against your chest as you heard the deep, raspy voice. And it wasn’t as if you were able to hide, so you peeked out around the tree, eyes widening when they had to snap up to look at the Orc fully.

He was looking down at you with a tilted head, an eyebrow cocked. He didn’t look too thrilled, but he didn’t look angry either, an unreadable expression masking what he was really feeling. “Don’t you humans normally stay in past sunset?”

“Most of us,” you answered, though your voice was barely audible in the quiet night air. He seemed to have caught what you said though and a little glimpse of a smile appeared on his lips.

“Not you though?” You shook your head, but shrugged. His eyes darted down to the basket and then around at the berry bushes surrounding the two of you. “Do you normally pick berries when the moon is out?”

“No,” you responded. “Do you?”

“No,” he said back, that glimpse turning into a real smile as he side-stepped over to a tree, leaning against the rough bark of it.

You saw one of his hands move his long braid over his shoulder, letting it rest against him as the rest of his muscular, yet severely scarred body stayed still. When you looked back up at his face, you noticed that his right tusk was chipped, missing the pointed tip like the one on the left has. You didn’t ask about it, you thought better not to, especially since you didn’t even know his name, but it looked like he’s been through a lot.

“Didn’t someone teach you that it was rude to stare? Especially at something much bigger than you?” He grinned. He was teasing, that much was obvious, but the words of your village’s elders rang in your mind and you moved back towards the tree you were hiding behind before. He let out a small snort, eyes looking you up and down before he rolled his eyes and pushed off of the tree. “Relax.”

“Hard to do for me…in general really…” you said, and you almost cringed at how pathetic that sounded. His brows knitted together, but you shook your head and looked back towards where you came from. “I should be getting home before it gets to be too late-”

“Already? We just started talking,” he said, not fully cutting you off, yet not letting you trail off the way you were going to do. His grin grew and he took a step closer to you. “Don’t tell me I scare you.”

“You don’t,” you said. Half-truth. The fact that he could crush your skull with your hands scared you. Him just standing there didn’t. “It’s just…late.”

“Not late enough for you to forage though?” He asked, lips pursed the best they could be with his tusks. “You can just admit it, wouldn’t be the first time my race has scared yours. You probably have people telling you to lock your doors, hide or else the big, bad Orcs are gonna come get you or raid your town.”

He wasn’t wrong, you thought to yourself, but he did sound awfully bitter. “Does that happen often to you…?”

“More than your people cause wars, which says a lot, doesn’t it?” You couldn’t argue, nor did you really see the need to. Humans didn’t really have a good reputation to anyone…even to other humans. You only shrugged, giving him an apologetic look.

His gaze softened and he shook his head, huffing out a sigh, saying after a beat of silence, “I’m Cortek.”

Your eyebrows lifted and with a nod, you said your own name, corners of your mouth curling up ever-so-slightly. “What’re you doing out here, Cortek?”

He shrugged. “I like walking during the night.”

You nodded, humming quietly. You breathed out, pursing your lips and looking down to the basket in your hands. “Why are you foraging when it’s dark out?”

You paused, briefly questioning if you wanted to tell him the truth or not. You decided to anyway. “My village really isn’t the biggest on leaving or being out past sunset.”

“Why’s that?” he asked. Your eyes moved back up to him and he seemed to understand shortly after. “Ah. Right, my tribe’s close, isn’t it?”

You nodded again, offering him an apologetic glance. “Yea…the elders aren’t really…welcoming to anyone other than humans being near us…even Elves…and Dwarves…or others…”

Sighing, you stepped closer to him. “I think they’re talking bogus though, a lot of people my age do, but we can’t speak out against them without being reprimanded…so it’s easier to listen or to sneak around.”

You watched as his lips turned up a little and you were a little grateful that you were able to cheer him up a slight bit. “It’s like that in my tribe with the chief. Though you might end up with your head on a spear if you fight against the chief.”

“Remind me not to get on their bad side then,” you jested, hearing him breathe out a laugh before shaking his head and fixing the tunic that sat loosely on his body, covering the scars on his chest that you got a glimpse of earlier.

Looking back down at the berries, you clucked before getting an idea, tilting your head back up to meet his eyes. “Come back here tomorrow…same spot. Around the same time.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What for?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose,” you said, smiling before lifting your hand with a little wave, turning on your heel and walking off. “Same spot, same time, Cortek.”

“Yea yea,” you heard him say as you walked away, a silent laugh shaking your shoulders.

^___________^___________^

The sun was high and there you were, standing in your kitchen, in the comfiest clothes you could manage, a couple candle’s lighting up the area despite the light coming from them not being needed as you worked on making a simple pastry dough, reading over your father’s messy handwriting on the small card he scribbled the recipe on. The basket of berries were sitting off to the side on your counter, waiting to be turned into a jam so you could put them with the dough, watching you and probably judging you for working so hard just to bring a few with you that night when you saw Cortek again.

It wasn’t as if you were meaning to impress him…simply offering a few of them as a peace treaty. You didn’t have many friends in the village and if this was your one chance you had, you were taking it. You wanted to know more about him, maybe where he got his scars if he was up to sharing, but you weren’t exactly sure how he’d react if you just asked, you planned that question for another night if a friendship actually blossomed. Maybe then it’d also show the village that the Orcs aren’t bad. That there was nothing to be afraid of, even if they were intimidating appearance wise.

And once you got the dough in a muffin tin and in the oven, you began working on the jam, grabbing the recipe card for that out from under the dough card.

^___________^___________^

Nighttime came faster than you were expecting it, and without bothering to change into anything nicer, you wrapped up a few tarts and put them in one of the picnic baskets you had. Then, after making sure everything was clear and no one else was out, you rushed out of the village, heading back to the berry bushes.

When you slowed yourself down as you neared the area, you saw that Cortek was already there, waiting for you. His head picked up when he saw you and he flashed a little smile, wearing an outfit similar to what he was wearing the day prior: a loose tunic and loose, black pants, much like what you saw the knights wear when you visited the city years ago, being lucky enough to get a glimpse of a few of them outside of their armor. “You’re early.”

“Or are you late?” He responded, but his smile grew and it let you know that it was just a tease. His eyes glanced down at the basket in your hands, then around at the berry bushes. “Come to take the rest of the berries?”

You shook your head. “No, I made some tarts today, wanted to share them.”

He visibly froze, brows furrowing before his eyes moved to yours and the deep brown softened under the moonlight. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you said, lifting the basket and walking up to him, only to guide the both of you on the ground, putting the basket between you two and opening it before handing him a small plate of tarts, and pulling out your own plate. You spoke after a moment, “My father used to bake these and share them around in the village. I’m not sure they’re as good as his, but…I tried my best.”

“Used to?” He asked. Your eyes got slightly wet and you pulled in a breath as your smile faltered.

“My parents went to the city one day. When they were supposed to come home a storm hit…and they never arrived,” you explained, not wanting to go into much more detail than you have already. You didn’t like talking about it, even after five years.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pulling back the wrap over the plate. You shook your head.

“It’s fine…it happened years ago…the least I can do is keep their memories alive. Through tarts or something like it.” You just barely missed as his gaze softened further and he looked down at the tarts before back up to you. “They weren’t like the elders. I’m sure that if they could’ve afforded to move, we would’ve gone to a more inclusive town…”

“If it means anything, I’m glad they didn’t,” he said after a beat. “If they did, I wouldn’t have had you coming here with tarts.”

You breathed out a little laugh and nodded. “Yea…you have a point there.”

The air between the two of you went silent, and you watched him as he grabbed one of the tarts and took a bite out of it, waiting for his reaction, hoping you didn’t just disappoint your father for making them bad. Not that your father was ever disappointed in you, it was never in his nature.

Cortek caught your gaze when he was done chewing, a little smile upturning his lips before he nodded a little. “It’s good.”

Your shoulders slumped in relief and you were able to smile again, letting it grow when you finally noticed just how small the tart was compared to his hand, but he didn’t comment on it, so you weren’t going to. “Good- it was my first time making these after everything so I was a little nervous.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he said, taking another bite before eating the rest of it. You felt proud, even though you just followed a couple recipe cards correctly and they turned out how they were supposed to. But you were taking a win no matter where it came from.

The two of you spent a bit in silence, eating without feeling the need to talk until the tarts were done and the plates were back in the basket. You were sitting at the same distance from before, a little more than a foot apart, but you felt the need to get closer to him, and when you saw that his hair wasn’t in the braid that it was the day before, you took that chance and scooted closer to him a little bit. “Your hair isn’t in a braid tonight.”

Cortek paused for a beat, but lifted his hand and touched his hair, nodding with a small glance towards you. “Yea, why?”

You parted your lips, but after being able to think about it, you thought it was a bit weird to ask him if you could braid his hair so close from meeting him, so you shrugged instead. “Nothing…just like pointing out the obvious, I guess.”

He smiled a little, his hand dropping from his hair and nudging your arm. He didn’t say anything else, but the silence that returned was comfortable and the two of you spent the rest of the night under the moonlight and in the soft breeze that touched the night air.

^___________^___________^

As Spring turned to Summer, you grew more comfortable with leaving the village since your parents died, even going as far as to sneak out during the day to meet up with Cortek. You met his twin sister, Aloka a month ago, almost instantly getting her approval when he made a quip about her and you socked him in the arm, not that it did anything to a man that was two or three times bigger than you.

You considered him a genuine friend, the first one you’ve had in years, which, as sad as it sounded, it was true. You never realized that you didn’t have a real friend until you were truly alone in the world, and it was like that for a good long time.

You stood beside a lake Cortek had shown you soon after you emptied the bushes of their berries, forcing him to take most of them and bring back to his tribe, whether it was to eat or bake with. In return, and with a joke about how he didn’t want to see your massacre of the berry bushes anymore, so he showed you the lake that sat nearby, one that you didn’t even realize existed since your town used a river that must connect to the lake.

It only took ten minutes of waiting and distracting yourself with skipping rocks, for Cortek to arrive, wearing an open tunic that only really covered his arms and bottom torso with a visibly worn set of bottoms with a pair of boots. His hair was up in a low pony, and he grinned when he spotted you, scooping you up in his arms before squeezing you and setting you down to turn you to face him. “You’re early, Honey.”

Your cheeks warmed at the pet name, something he randomly decided to call you after learning that you put honey on most of your baked goods. You liked it nonetheless. “You’re just late, ‘Tek.”

He scoffed, waving his hand in the air. “Sure, sure, whatever you want to call it. I just know that you’re always painfully early and that you wait for me to arrive.”

You hummed, nodding along even though he was clearly talking out of his ass. “Or maybe you’re late.”

“I guess we’ll never know,” he said, smiling again before he sat down on the grass, helping you sit beside him. “Alo’ wants to see you again, and she also said that she wants you to make those orange cookies again.”

You breathed out a laugh. “She’s eating me out of house and home and she doesn’t even live with me,” you said.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around his legs and tugging them so they’re flush with his chest, looking less like the warrior you were intimidated by in the beginning and more like a big, domestic puppy. “Eh, she’s just like that. It took her years to even eat something sweet. It’s a miracle she’s so attached to your baking.”

Your eyes softened and you smiled, a little thing, but it wasn’t like you could visibly portray how your heart felt at that moment. “I’ll make sure to bake some for her.”

Cortek smiled back at you and nodded, moving an arm before he tugged you against his body. You leaned against him, your eyes shutting and your heart skipping every so often. The moment felt so utterly-

Someone yelling your name snapped you out of your thoughts and your head snapped back, eyes meeting one of your neighbors looking at you with eyes the size of saucers, her gaze going between you and Cortek. The both of you stood and you pulled him behind you, even if he was the bigger one. “What are you doing?!”

You almost flinched at the shrill and she turned to run back to the village before you could answer. You wanted to chase after her, but you already knew that you were done for…the elders would find out and you’d be a goner even if you happened to catch her. So you sided and you looked up at Cortek, your expression now bittersweet as he rubbed your shoulders, moving to hold your arms. “You alright?”

“Not really,” you admitted. “I’m going to be in big trouble.”

“Do you want me to come with?” he asked. “...I don’t think anyone would let me go into your village, but I’d be right outside of it.”

You shook your head, even though you wished you could’ve agreed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, ‘Tek. Just…stay here, I’ll come back as soon as I can, alright? If it gets too late, go home and we’ll meet tomorrow.”

He gave you a look, but you patted his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

With that, you pulled from his grasp, and made the trek home, only to find the Elders at your house, waiting for you to arrive. Your heart sunk further and you didn’t start to talk until you let yourself in and then let them come in, all five piling in your small cottage. You parted your lips to start trying to explain yourself, but you were cut off shortly after you began to utter your first word.

“We told you- everyone to not leave the village. We said that there were Orcs nearby and we wanted to protect our village. And what do you do?” The leader -a short man lacking most of his all white hair- said. “You go off and spend time with an Orc! Are you trying to get our village raided? Destroyed?”

“That’s not what I was trying to do-”

“Then what were you trying to do?” He asked, cutting you off.

You stood there in silence for a beat, your lips pursing before you sighed and said, “The Orcs are nice, they don’t mean anyone harm.”

“They’re Orcs, they raid and they steal and they fight, that’s their culture. You’re putting yourself at risk, you’re putting everyone at risk,” he said, the other elders nodding in agreement. “Think of how your parents would feel about this? About you putting us all in danger.”

Your body tensed, your eyes widening and your lips parting before closing a few times. You wished you didn’t say no to Cortek coming along. “My parents wouldn’t discriminate over an entire race because you guys think that they’re dangerous. They could be, but how many wars have we started with the Elves? How many wars have our race started because we didn’t like people being different from us?”

You looked around, you saw the memories that were made there, and you knew that your parents wouldn’t want you to stick around if it meant that you weren’t going to be happy. When you looked back at the elders, who were still gawking at you for your little monologue, you took a breath. “I’m done. I’ll be gone by tonight. Don’t worry about me putting your little port of power in danger.”

Walking to the door, you opened it, motioning towards the outside. “Please leave. I need to pack.”

Some of the elders looked at you like you had two heads, but despite the lecture and disciplinary methods the leader clearly had planned for you, he looked at you solemnly and nodded, leading everyone out of the cottage and shutting the door behind him when he walked out. You were quick to start packing after that, finding what bags you were able to carry yourself and filling one with clothes. You stashed what books you could and emptied out the picture frames before pressing the photos in the books.

You brought one bag down and packed your father’s recipe cards and your mother’s towels and forced yourself to ignore the baskets that belonged to your parents, knowing that you couldn’t bring them with you no matter how much you wanted to. After that, you just focused on the necessities, filling the rest of the second bag with it, and managing to fill a third bag with memories you were afraid to let go, journals you had yet to finish.

It took you a long time to gather the courage to grab the bags and leave. You weighed that it was so much easier to stay than it was to leave, but yet you did. You grabbed your bags, and with a tearful look back at the house that you thought you’d be in forever, you left.

You walked back into the forest, your legs moving slower with the added weight of the bags and the emotions flooding your body, but you make it back to the lake, only to see Cortek pacing. He didn’t seem to notice you until you were almost beside him, his eyes lighting up, before his expression fell when he saw that you had bags with you. “...They didn’t.”

“They didn’t,” you confirmed. “...I did. It didn’t feel right staying in the village.”

He moved to you, grabbing two of the bags from you and carrying them like the weight meant nothing to him. “What’re you doing?”

“Carrying your bags, you’re coming with me,” he said simply, moving one of the bags to the other hand and holding them in one hand so his free one could grab yours. “I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I let you be homeless. I have some space in my hut back at the tribe.”

“You sure? Wouldn’t people react weirdly to you bringing me back?”

“Maybe some, but Aloka is pretty close to the chief and his partner so you’re staying no matter who complains,” he said, and you felt relief fill your heart, nodding.

“Remind me to make her those orange cookies,” you said, a little smile touching your lips despite the situation. He laughed, nodding and leading you to his tribe.

^___________^___________^

Summer turned to Fall and Fall eventually turned to Winter, you grew more at home in Cortek’s tribe than you did the past five years you lived alone in your old village. You essentially became the tribe’s baker, and while you were put together externally, you were internally freaking out, using and abusing your father’s recipe cards to make enough for everyone and then some. But it wasn’t that bad, you got a warm place to live, food, and you didn’t even have to do anything hard, since everyone else treated you like you’d break if you ever lifted an ax to get some firewood.

There was just one, little thing that left you reeling: you were hopeless with your newly gained feelings for Cortek. There was a reason that you always wanted to spend time with him, and gods did you figure out really fast that it wasn’t because you wanted to be good friends with him. Not that you ever complained about staying friends. You were happy being with him no matter what your relationship with him was.

You pulled a cardigan over your body, holding it tightly against your body as you braced yourself and went outside, your feet stepping onto the fortunate light feathering of snow that laid on the ground. You scrunched your nose at the sudden onslaught of cold and you squinted to keep walking, hating yourself for going outside already. You found Cortek outside of the little tavern hut the tribe made when they must’ve settled here. He was talking with a few other Orcs, all of which waved and gave you little smiles before he turned to look down at you, brows furrowing when he saw you in just a cardigan over your clothes. He walked over to you and met you halfway, tipping your head up as he leaned down a little. “Why’re you only wearing that?”

“I don’t have a coat,” you said. “I didn’t go out often when I lived alone.”

He sighed, giving you a concerned glance before he unclipped the fur that rested over his shoulders and put it on you, the cloak warming you instantly, but being a little long for your body. “Wear this then, I have another one in the house.”

“What about you now though?”

“Orcs don’t get that cold,” he explained. “Thicker skin. What’d you need?”

“We’re gonna run outta firewood soon,” you said, pulling the heavy cloak closer to your body. “We only have a few pieces left.”

With a nod, he pulled the hood over your head and stood straight. “Just toss the rest in the pit, I’ll bring some when I get home, you should go back inside, you look like you’re about to turn to ice.”

“Feels like it,” you admitted, but grasped his hand to squeeze it before you went back to the hut and let him return to his chat with his friends.

You tossed the rest of the wood into the fireplace, keeping the cloak on as you settled on one of the large chairs that sat in the little living space just off of the kitchen. It didn’t take long to warm up, but being surrounded by what was essentially a big blanket made you doze off quickly, and you weren’t in the mood to get up to go to your room.

You woke up when the door opened and heavy footsteps followed, eyes cracking open to look up at Cortek as he walked in. He set the firewood down against the wall and glanced over at you, an amused smile on his face when he saw your tired gaze. “Comfortable?”

You hummed, nodding. “Very.”

He chuckled a little and walked over to you before pushing the hood down. “We could get it hemmed for you, if you like it so much.”

“You don’t have to,” you said, but you’ve learned not to fight with him about doing things for you.

“We’re getting it hemmed,” he replied, and that was the end of that. He sat on the other chair in the room, a loud grunt leaving him as he relaxed and leaned into the chair further. There was a beat of silence, but he broke it after a moment, “It’s been nice.”

“What?”

“Having someone else in the house with me…” Your eyes met again and he shrugged. “I’m not the best at being alone.”

Your brows knit together, but you nodded with a little smile. “For all things considered you’re a good roommate, ‘Tek.”

He smiled back. “I try.”

You knew he didn’t have to. As you looked at him, you watched him turn to look up at the ceiling before his eyes shut and you slowly unclipped the cloak off of you, leaving it on the chair as you got off and walked over to him, feeling awkward, not exactly knowing why you were doing what you were doing. “Cortek?”

He cracked his eyes open, jumping a little when you were so much closer than he thought you were. “Gods, Honey, you got close.”

Your face grew warm and you gave him a nervous glance, smile included. “I need to talk to you.”

Concern grew on his face again, and he sat up, nodding. “What about?”

“...Us…I guess? I don’t know…I don’t exactly know what to say.” You bit your lip, took a breath and gave yourself a little nod. “Deny me all you want…no hard feelings or anything, I just…uh- these past couple months I’ve wanted to be more than friends…”

Cortek’s eyes widened a little, and you already regretted saying something about it, but he drew you closer and kissed your forehead, holding your hand and squeezing it. “Aloka owes me five gold.”

“What?” you asked suddenly, only for your own eyes to widen and you slapped his arm. “You knew?!”

“‘Course I did, you’re not exactly subtle. Not like I don’t feel the same anyway, Alo’ just wanted to see if you’d confess or if I would have to. And you did it first so we’re five gold richer.” You narrowed your eyes at him, groaning before pulling your hand away from his.

“You’re ridiculous, Cortek.” He laughed, grasping your arm and tugging you back into him, lifting you so you would sit on his thigh. “You bet on this? Why didn’t you just confess?”

“I was curious to see if you’d last the winter,” he mumbled, planting a kiss on your temple, his tusks pressing against your head. He smiled down at you, and you couldn’t help the smile that came with the sight of his.

You shook your head and leaned into him, pressing your lips against his for a brief moment and tucking your body into his as his arms slipped around your waist. You were wondering why you even thought that the confession would’ve gone poorly, even if he did bet with his sister about it.

And hey, you might’ve gone through an emotional rollercoaster because this man was in your life, but you had him for good now, and you didn’t plan on letting him go.

548 notes · View notes

threadbaresweater · 23 days

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one warm day is all i really need | arthur morgan x reader

Arthur doesn't think you're interested in him any more than you're interested in fishing, which ain't much. You hope he shares even an inkling of the feelings you have for him. It's no surprise to anyone else in camp that there's something between the two of you, and they make sure you get a chance to show each other how you really feel.

The details: 3.9k words. Female reader with a backstory that isn't really elaborated upon in this fic but might be at a later date if I have the spoons; several gang members act as side-characters/wingmen (and women); alcohol and cigarette use; sex (pretty vanilla, but a little rough and intense). NSFW. This is also my first fic for a new fandom, so please be gentle with me. It's been a while.

Arthur first notices your eyes on him one evening around the campfire at Shady Belle. He won’t accuse you of staring– Lord knows he’s been known to look at you with the same foolish grin you’re wearing now– but he tips his hat to acknowledge you. The heat in your cheeks is suddenly warmer than what the fire has already provided; your grin only grows until your teeth are showing, and you duck your head into your shoulder to hide. Arthur takes a long swig from his whiskey bottle and grimaces as it goes down. He hasn't had a drop of anything in days, and the burn takes a little while to grow numb to now.

“Think she's sweet on you, Morgan,” Sean says in his Irish lilt, giving Arthur an elbow in the ribs.

“Naw, she's lookin’ at you,” Arthur deflects, though he hopes he's wrong. He thinks he knows.

“She told me last week to keep my eyes on my own work,” Sean continues. “I really don't think it's me she wants, Arthur.”

You turn to whisper something to Sadie, who laughs out loud with her face tilted toward the stars. You dare a glance back at Arthur, who is, in fact, looking at you.

Maybe there's some truth to what Mary Beth told you yesterday.

“Arthur's been awful quiet lately.”

The sun shines through the trees and dapples the table where you're seated with bright spots of pale yellow. It's your third round of dominoes with Mary-Beth, and she's whooping your ass, as usual. You don't know how she does it, but each game you play, you're a little more privy to her prowess.

“You think so? I don't know him as well as you.” You hope it isn't obvious that your heart started beating a little faster at the mention of his name. It leaves you breathless.

“Oh yeah,” Mary-Beth continues. “He's been scratchin’ away in that journal of his a lot more, too.” She leans closer, conspiratorial, her eyes twinkling with the gossip she's about to share. “Karen said he went to town twice last week to have a hot bath. If you knew Arthur like I know Arthur, why…you'd know that's highly out of character for him.”

“But you said he'd been quiet. Is that unusual for him, too?”

She hums and purses her lips. “Well you see, Arthur isn't usually a man of many words on a good day. But it's been real bad lately. He don't even give John a hard time like usual.”

You ponder the dominoes for a moment and then make your move. It doesn't earn you any points, but at least you didn't have to draw. “What do you think the problem is?” you ask, nonchalant as possible.

Mary-Beth smiles. Big and bright and sparkling. “Oh, it's not a problem at all.” She lowers her voice and cups her hand to her mouth. “Arthur's in love.”

You gasp, then giggle behind your hand, and Mary-Beth follows suit. Hosea looks on and shakes his head, so you quiet down, reaching across to grab Mary-Beth's hands. “Who do you think it is?”

Her cheeks are tinted pink, and she looks around to make sure there aren't any ears to hear. Word travels fast around camp if one isn't prudent. “I think it's you.”

A thunderstorm rips through Shady Belle a little over a week later. Your little tent that you share with Sadie is ripped straight off its supports in a terrible gust of wind, and you and the others hightail it inside the house to take cover just as it begins to hail. There's quite a ruckus as everyone huddles inside, windblown and rain-soaked. A few of the men hold up lanterns to illuminate the darkness while you watch the lightning and feel the thunder shake the old bones of the house.

“Everyone just calm down,” Dutch calls, descending the stairs, wearing some ridiculous robe with his arms spread wide. “Are we really gonna let a little old thunderstorm keep us from getting a good night's sleep?”

“Says the man with a bed inside the house,” Arthur bites, rounding the corner from what used to be the kitchen, holding a lantern up high in front of him. “Dutch, you better allow these ladies to take cover in here for tonight, or I'll–”

“Or you'll what, Mister Morgan? Pray tell, what kind of man do you take me for?” Dutch's eyes are fiery as he stares Arthur down; a display of dominance. A veritable cockfight.

Arthur's jaw twitches, but he doesn't back down. “The kind of man I should hope would have some goddamn respect for his family.”

There's a tense moment or two where everyone is quiet, then Dutch relents. “Fine, fine! But I expect everyone out there pitching in to clean up in the morning.” He points at Arthur and raises his voice again. “That includes the other man with a bed inside the house,” he sneers.

Arthur shakes his head, then looks away only to catch sight of you, shivering in your wet undergarments, huddled close to Mary-Beth for what little warmth the two of you can share. For a minute, he forgets to breathe, then composes himself enough to cross the room.

“Come on in here. Get yourself warm and dry by the fire.” His hand on your elbow is rough but warm as he leads you toward the fireplace. You nod and look back at Mary-Beth, who shoos you away with a flick of her wrist and a wink; you notice that her teeth are chattering. Despite the humidity that hangs heavy in the air, the temperature has turned chilly with the storm.

Arms crossed over your bosom to preserve any shred of modesty you might have left, you allow yourself to be led away by Arthur. Dutch and some of the others head upstairs while Charles and Javier keep watch from the front porch.

“You alright?” Arthur asks. He covers your shoulders with one of his heavy winter coats, and you pull it around you, grateful for the weight and warmth of it. Another clap of thunder shakes the house and you jump. Arthur chuckles.

“You laughin’ at me?” you quip, placing your palms flat in the direction of the fireplace. You don't even bother to hide the grin you feel curling on your lips.

“No madam, I am not,” Arthur says earnestly, taking a seat beside you on the old wooden crate he's set up as a makeshift bench.

“Then just what do you find so funny, Mister Morgan?”

He scratches the back of his neck, looking into the flames. “Aw, I dunno. I'm sorry. It's just that you're…”

You bump him with your hip, unable to stop the giggles that bubble up from your chest. “I'm what?” you pry.

There's a clatter of something falling on the front porch, and Arthur uses it as a good excuse to get out of this hole he's dug for himself. “I better go see what's going on out there. Charles might need my help.”

“I'm what, Arthur?!” you call, to no avail. He's gone before he can see the proverbial hearts in your eyes.

The saloon in Rhodes is a little nicer than the ones you visited in Valentine, though it's a far cry from the ones you used to frequent in Saint Denis. Still, when Sadie and the other girls decide that it's high time you have a little fun in town, you throw on your best dress and let Karen curl your hair and even apply a little of the makeup you snagged from a homestead up north. For the first time in months, you feel like a proper woman. There isn't time to be melancholy about the past, though, when the boys start whistling and cat-calling upon the sight of you and the other girls.

“Aw, knock it off!” Sadie hollers. She's decided to dress up a little tonight, too, much to everyone's surprise. But she hikes up her skirts to hop into the wagon, calling for the rest of you all to hurry it up. “I've got a bottle of rum with my name on it that's waiting for me to come drink her all down!”

You catch the sunset on the way to town. It's dazzling over the meadows, all golden light and warm, blazing oranges and reds that settle into a brilliant pink by the time your reach the main road into Rhodes. You wish you could see Arthur's eyes, but he's got a handle on the reins next to Charles in the front of the wagon. You've seen him watching the sunset before; he always looks so peaceful those evenings at camp, and you often wonder what he thinks about in those few minutes before the horizon is painted in pastel hues.

Karen starts singing a song that everyone eventually joins, and before you know it, you're pulling up in front of the Rhodes Parlour House. You can already hear the piano and a few voices from outside; the sound of it stirs something in your soul that makes you long for the familiarity of home, but you quickly shove it aside in favor of the company of your new family.

“Madam.” Arthur's voice brings you out of your thoughts and back into the present, where he waits at the back of the wagon with his hand extended to you. You beam at him, and he feels dizzy. And when your soft hand fits into his, he straightens his knees so they don't buckle and betray him.

“Why, thank you, kind sir,” you say, lifting the hem of your skirts to step out onto the dirt road.

Arthur leans in, dangerously close to your ear. You can smell the whisky and cigarettes on his breath, along with the faint tang of gunpowder and hair pomade. “You sure do look nice in that dress.”

You demure and fan yourself with your hand. “Just how much have you had to drink already tonight?” you giggle.

“Ahh, just a little nip to take the edge off.”

“Mm-hm. Sure, Arthur. Whatever you say.”

The night starts off relatively calm, as most nights do. You and the other girls find an empty table to sit and pick up on the town gossip, and the men start a hand of poker. It grows loud and crowded sometime around midnight, and it's hard to have a conversation without shouting over the din of voices, the clink of glass bottles, and the slow drag ragtime music from the piano. The ambiance is charming and lighthearted, and there are even a few couples drunkenly dancing on the porch.

You push back in your chair and find that when you stand, you're a little more wobbly than you thought you would be. The alcohol has loosened you more than you realize, and you grip the table for support until you feel a firm arm around your waist. “Whoa there.”

It's Arthur, who has won the last round of poker and has come to check in on you and the other ladies. You're pulled tight against his chest for one fleeting moment, and you look up into his eyes. He, too, seems drunk, with his eyes gleaming and drooping at the corners, his smile easy and his cheeks flushed.

“My knight in shining armor,” you slur, pretending to faint in his embrace. He only pulls you tighter against him, both of his broad hands splayed across your back. You laugh, and he smiles.

“You weren't getting another drink, were ya?” he questions with a raise of his brow.

“‘m thirsty,” you whine, lifting your empty glass entirely too close to his face. It knocks against his nose, which sends you into another fit of laughter.

Arthur takes your wrist– gentle but firm– and lowers the glass away. “Think you need to drink something that's not whiskey,” he drawls. You can't help but watch the way his lips form around the words; the slip of his tongue between his teeth, the way his mouth turns up into the hint of a smile when you pout. Before you can think too long and hard about it, you lunge forward and kiss him. Hard and clumsy and impulsive. You don't give him time to react. You're far too involved in the kiss to notice, but the girls at the table behind you have all gone silent. Arthur slides his hand along the side of your face and presses his fingers upon the nape of your neck, kissing you back like he really means it. (He really does.)

You pull back suddenly, breathless and reeling, swiping the back of your hand over your mouth. You're still held firm in his embrace, but the playfulness in his gaze has been replaced with an intensity that makes your knees weak all over again.

“What'd ya do that for?” he asks.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“Well, you started it.”

“And you finished it.”

“Oh, I ain't finished with you, yet.”

“That a promise or a threat?” Your pulse is thumping wildly in your ears.

“Ya know, they got rooms upstairs for that!” Sadie shouts. There's a ripple of laughter across the table. Arthur's hand on your cheek feels like a brand, his arm about your waist an anchor. The rest of the room comes back to you in a woozy blur, and you look around, a little lovestruck and a whole lot drunk. Arthur's lips at your temple make your eyes flutter shut, and the room fades to black as tIt'weight of you slumps against him. He staggers only slightly, but holds you firm, chuckling softly.

“It's a promise,” he whispers.

You come to some hours later. Your mouth is dry as the desert, your head feels like lead, your skin broken out in a cold, uncomfortable sweat. At some point, it seems you were covered with a downy soft blanket, and the pillow at your head is much more fluffy than the makeshift one you made out of a bedroll at camp. At first, you think you're dreaming. Then, you wonder very briefly if you're back at your childhood home in Saint Denis. You almost call out to your mother when you hear a soft snore from the other side of your bed.

The room spins when you turn your head, and you rub your eyes until Arthur comes into focus. He's sprawled in an armchair a few feet away. His arms are crossed over his chest while his chin is tucked into his chest. Off to the side, you spy his boots; his big toe pokes through a hole in his sock and you smile at how vulnerable he looks.

“Arthur,” you whisper, shifting slightly as you pull the blanket up around your chin.

He grunts and lifts his head slowly. He frowns a little at first, but when he focuses on you lying there, so close he could reach out and kiss you again like he did last night, there's a slow, easy smile that spreads across his face.

“Hey there, party girl. You feeling alright?”

You could kick yourself for all the giggling you've done around him lately, but you can't help it. He brings out something giddy and downright foolish inside you, so you toss a pillow at him and bury your face in the sheets.

“Aw, come on now. I'm just messin’ with ya.” He leans forward and rubs your head affectionately. “I'd say you were feeling pretty good last night.”

It's in that moment a white-hot jolt of sheer panic shoots down your spine. Quickly, you check to make sure you're still wearing clothes. Aside from your breasts being a little lopsided in the confines of your bodice, you're relieved to find that your dress is still intact and– more importantly– on your body. You dare another peek at Arthur and notice that his shirt is unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest and he's discarded his vest somewhere, but he, too, is fully clothed. Thank the good Lord above.

You must've said that last part aloud, because Arthur laughs. “Don't worry, nothing happened. Though it weren't for lack of tryin’ on your part,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Thought I was gonna have to lock you in here like some feral cat till you settled down.”

Oh. Oh Lord. You try to recall what happened that led you to this room, but all that comes to mind is a lot of loud conversation, some dancing, a spilled drink across Sadie's lap, and Arthur's hand on the side of your cheek. “Oh…”

Now you remember it in vivid detail.

“Didn't know you cared for me like that,” he says. It's earnest and tender, a few shades less intense than the kiss you now recall, the one where it felt like he wanted to eat you alive right there in the middle of the saloon. Now, he thumbs your cheek and looks at you so fondly you swear your heart jumps right up in your throat. “I mean, I'd been hoping. Wasn't sure you was looking for a romance.” He huffs a short sigh, frustrated with himself. “Aw, hell, what am I saying? ‘Course you weren't. You're just looking to survive, just like the rest of us, and here I–”

“Shut up,” you say, taking hold of his hand and tugging him closer. He resists until you pull even harder, watching the fire in your eyes blaze to life. “You talk too much, Yankee.”

“I ain't no damn–”

“Kiss me.”

He's over you in an instant; you're pressed flat against the bed, completely and totally at his mercy. This kiss feels different than the drunken one last night. It's sober and honest, if not a little hesitant, as if he's holding himself back from devouring you wholly. The warmth of his body against yours takes your breath away. Or maybe it's the way his tongue laves heavy into your mouth, unashamed of how badly he craves the taste of you. You grip his hair at the roots and tug him down to kiss him harder, lifting your upper body to meet him until he presses down, his chest flush with yours.

Things get heated quickly.

His mouth moves across your cheek, down your neck, and he groans against your skin, rutting his cock against your thigh. You fleetingly wish that he had managed to get you out of that dress before he presumably tucked you into bed and passed out in that chair, because there’s a whole lot of fabric between you and him that really pisses you off right now. Arthur must feel much the same, because he’s bunching your skirts up past your knees while you’re fumbling with his belt buckle, desperate to feel him against you, inside you. It’s clumsy and crazed, rushed and rough, but you manage somehow to shuck off every last bit of your clothes and his until you’re breathless and so, so eager beneath him.

“Need you now,” you whine. You feel insane. Dizzy and dehydrated, impossibly turned on, every nerve ending on fire when his callused hands grip the fat of your thighs and open you to him.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?” One of his hands slips between your legs to find you wet and swollen. He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and pushes a finger inside you; the sound you make nearly has him finishing there on the sheets, so he wastes no time in getting himself as close to you as humanly possible.

“Never wanted something so bad,” he murmurs into the dip of your shoulder. He wants all of you– all at once– wants to fuse his hands against your skin and sink himself into you so deep that it would be impossible to tell where he ends and you begin. The heat from his body takes away what little breath you have left, his mouth on each part of your body building the buzz in your chest until you feel like you might just burst open. You grab at each other like it's the first and last time you might have this opportunity, as if you want more than what the other of you is able to give.

Considering the kind of life you’ve both led so far, it’s a good possibility that you might never get to do this again.

“Give it to me,” you plead, opening yourself further to him, fingers wrapped firm around the base of his cock. “Please.”

Arthur Morgan is a man of incredible strength and self restraint, except when it comes to a woman like you.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he takes you. It’s primal, sweaty, filthy, rough. Arthur pushes as far inside you as he can go, then pushes further when you beg for more. He cups your knees with slick palms and presses you open as far as you can bend; you tug roughly at his hair and bite down on his shoulder when the pleasure builds to a blinding ferocity. The wooden bedframe knocks angrily against the wall with each thrust, but you can’t bring yourself to care if anyone hears. You can’t focus on anything beyond the feeling of him filling you with every stroke of his cock, of the taut, corded muscle in his back and shoulders as you grapple to hang on as tight as you can. Your orgasm hits your hard and fast, and he encourages you through it, taking his time to give you long, controlled strokes. It’s as pleasurable for him as it is for you. “‘Atta girl,” he rasps, lips moving against your ear. Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle your cries, but he pulls it away and threads his fingers with yours, pressing it onto the pillow. “I wanna hear it.”

Your moans are what drive him over the edge.

He buries his face against the side of your neck, panting heavily as he comes, driving into you so hard that you can almost feel the mattress beneath you begin to sag under the weight. You cradle his head in your hands and link your legs around his waist, boneless and languid in the aftermath of your own pleasure. When he moves, you move with him, riding out the waves together until you’re both too tired to move another muscle.

Neither of you speak for a while. He lies on his back with an arm around your shoulders while you curl against him, tuned into his heartbeat and swirling little patterns into the hair on his chest. It’s comforting to feel him next to you, to watch his chest rise and fall as he steadies his breathing, to soak up the warmth of his skin against yours.

You’re the first to break the silence. “Did everyone else go back to camp last night?”

Arthur nods slowly. “Something tells me they planned all this.”

“Planned it? You mean…” You lift your arm slowly and flick your wrist to acknowledge the room you’re laying in. “This?” You lift your chin and grin at him. “Or getting us together?”

“Room was paid for before I even had a chance to ask if they had one,” he explains. “Think it was Mrs. Adler.”

You vaguely recall her shouting something about a room after you kissed Arthur last night, and you shake your head. “You complaining?”

He turns to his side, draping an arm across your hip. “Me? Never.” You’re suddenly pressed beneath him once again; from the looks of it, you won’t be getting out of this bed anytime soon. “Specially when I’ve got you here to help me keep warm.”

#arthur morgan x you #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader

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therantingsage · 24 days

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Because I promised this, and I really wanted to do it anyway, here's a really really long-winded rambling dissertation on:

Why N and Uzi secretly dating since before episode 5 is genuinely super plausible and also stupidly hilarious /pos

Under the cut cuz it got obscenely long oops-

Idk where to start, so I'll just cover my bases: why people think they've been in a relationship already in the first place.

We all saw this scene:

And legit it can only be implying one of two things. Either A: this is his confession of feelings for her. Or B: this is him admitting that they've been dating for a while at this point. With the hearts it's pretty clear that this statement is meant to be romantically interpreted, and Nori's aghast reaction confirms that that's how it's being interpreted.

Obviously no matter the interpretation, N only writes that because he can't think of anything else to snap Uzi out of it and thereby stop this confrontation from ending poorly. And it works obviously so good on him for the quick thinking.

Two things that make me lean towards the 'we're dating' interpretation over 'confession' interpretation, though: firstly, he's not writing this to tell Uzi something, he specifically calls out to Nori before writing it. "Hey btw I'm dating your daughter" makes more sense than "Hey btw I like your daughter romantically" because if it was the latter, Nori has far less reason to be mad at Uzi about it rather than N. It's not like Uzi can control how N feels. But if they're dating, that means Uzi is partially to blame for that and Nori can get upset at HER.

Secondly, the awkward wording. Like it's really vague and without the hearts you'd have no reason to assume anything but platonic meaning. But these are words we, and him, have heard before:

...from Uzi, in response to a question about who she is and, by proxy, the nature of their relationship. She says it defensively, follows it up by telling N to shut up. N repeating her wording which, again, is a description of the nature of their relationship....but this time implying something romantic with it, it suggests the idea that it had romantic implications the first time.

I don't think it's far-fetched to say Uzi at least has feelings for N at this point in the story. I don't think anyone's arguing that that's not true. But the idea that 'hang out' means the exact same thing both times is what I'm arguing here. They're dating, but this version of N is a stranger to her. A cute stranger, as she says, but a stranger nonetheless who she isn't comfortable admitting to that she's dating him in the future to his face.

Backing up a bit, Uzi's reaction to Nori's reaction:

This is a clear and obvious parallel to the previous episode, when 'Tessa' says "Don't date my robot, please."

In both instances, someone gets on her case about the idea of them dating, and in both cases she doesn't deny it but instead defends both his and her own agency in the matter. No one is allowed to tell them what to do and Uzi refuses to let anyone try.

When Nori says it, though, she does seem to try and deny it for a moment. "I'm not-" She cuts herself off so we can't say for certain what she was going to say (if anything. it's entirely possible she started that sentence with no plan how to finish it, I do that a lot personally). But that's also because, like, she's Uzi. If this was meant to be a secret relationship, it would probably be her who made that decision. And like with butler N, she has no reason to disclose that kind of information to a stranger. She'd probably try and deny it whether its true or not.

As for when it would've started, after camp is the only big timeskip where we don't have much clue went on during. Cabin Fever is a big episode for them, and the three episodes that come after it are all back-to-back-to-back. The only time it makes sense to have started is sometime between eps 4 and 5.

And guys. Guys.

This, more than anything to me, paired with the idea that they've been dating for a while by the time the most recent couple episodes happen.....doesn't this seem so, so romantic? You could easily call this a love confession! So easily! It sounds like one much more than 'we just kinda are hanging out a lot idk' at least.

Like, rephrase that even a little: "Being with you makes scary things fun. Being with you makes me feel brave. It makes me feel safe. So I want to keep being with you."

And Uzi agrees with that sentiment. He promises to stick with her. And she laughs and smiles with him as he makes the scary thing she's been dealing with into something fun, something they can laugh about. The together line gets repeated in the most recent episode, directly calling back to this scene as well.

Like, just...AGH. In Cabin Fever he says it once as they're falling and a second time once they're grounded. The second time its a question, and one she eagerly answers with physical affection, which is super rare for her. In Mass Destruction its a statement, because he already knows her answer. Its a repeated promise. A vow.

Backing up again. Let's assess some interactions under this context. Assuming they're dating in secret. Because it paints so many things in a different light and basically nothing contradicts it which is fricken wild. This:

Isn't a sheepish Uzi trying to hold her crush's hand in a moment of fear. This is an Uzi who wants to keep their relationship a secret but is so in need of comfort right now she's willing to risk exposing them to get it.

This:

Her being so relieved because she almost watched him die but he's alive he's ok and she doesn't care who sees it because she needs to hug her boyfriend rIGHT NOW GUYS I DON'T CARE I'M HUGGING MY BOYFRIEND-

This whole scene. Uzi interacts with him so gently here. She's not gentle with anybody else at all. She sees him stressed and uses his own "you good?" on him and it's just so dang tender when you think about it. Because no one else can hear them talking to each other. It's just these two sending face texts and everyone else's focus is on the Sentinal so they can afford to be as couple-y in this conversation as they want.

And after:

Blushing because they like each other so so dang much.......sweating bullets because the other two can see them do this. Suddenly without either of them really thinking about it they're being romantic around other people and wow! That's nerve-wracking! Peak young love early-in-the-relationship behavior they ain't slick.

His tone of voice in this scene is gentler I think than we've ever heard from him before (Michael Kovach you are so damn good at your job). His loss-filled fury is cooled in an instant when he realizes how close he came to hurting his girlfriend. It's heartbreakingly gentle before 'Tessa' cuts him off.

And when she cuts Uzi off:

He looks like genuinely pissed at her. "Did you really just interrupt my gf while she was talking?? She's scared and you're disrespecting her tf is wrong with u??"

And like- the fact he was genuinely willing to off Tessa for her. Like he realizes there's a possibility she tried to get his gf killed for no reason and upon her not even trying to deny it he just kills her instantly. Because it's no longer a question of the universe or Uzi. It's a question of Tessa or Uzi, and its a choice his heart has already made before this point.

But here's like. The thing about all this that gets me. This is meant to be a secret relationship, right? Like nobody but them is supposed to know about this. And the fact that we the audience didn't have any reason to assume them to be an established relationship without heavy headcanoning means they did a decent job at that, right?

Guys. Guys.

N is terrible at keeping secrets. Like. Horrendously bad at keeping things on the down-low. Every single time in the series he's supposed to not spill info he like. Fails. It's wild. And because the relationship happens after "Inclusive reflexes!" that means that Uzi damn well knows this and still trusts him to try.

But based on V's reaction to the handholding in Dead End:

I'm honestly willing to bet she knew. She doesn't sound surprised, just annoyed that she has to see it. Which means N probably like, heard her badmouthing Uzi or something and got like way too defensive about it and she clocked him instantly. Because he's bad at keeping secrets. And she doesn't bother mentioning it during any of these episodes out loud because she doesn't care what these idiots do in their free time.

Can you imagine how many hundred close calls they must've had? How many times Uzi must've had to aggressively shush him or cover his mouth because he was going to say something slightly too sappy in public? The only reason we don't get to see the time period between eps 4 and 5 is because it would've been painfully obvious that these two dating is the worst kept secret in the entire bunker. I'm going insane.

Uzi fell in love with a proud himbo and they both know it. It's genuinely a miracle they didn't clue the audience in sooner.

#Murder Drones #Murder Drones Spoilers #md N #md Uzi #Uzi Doorman #Nuzi #Biscuitbites #Listen!! I'm feral and I site my sources!!!#This is a hill I'm willing to die on. And then I will rise to keep talking #I miss doing posts like this. I have so so much to say always #Me when I hyperfixate to the point of essays. Oops. Glad I can read

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yurinaa-world · 5 months

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hiii!! if it's not too much to ask, can i get the twst dormleaders with a crush/s/o with an emotion ahoge?

the ahoge droops down when they're sad, stands straight when they're surprised, forms a heart when they're flustered...etc.

Characters: Housewardens x Gender Neutral Reader

Synopsis: with reader that has a emotion ahoge

Warnings: fluff, spelling mistakes

𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝓈𝑒𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈

He’s flustered whenever you're flustered: it wouldn’t have been obvious if it weren't for the strand of hair that forms into a heart and you just looking away from him. He’s curious about your hair and it’s moving, reflecting the way your emotions and you look very cute with your moving strand of hair (he wants to send him a photo of your ahoge).

𝐿𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒶 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓇

His cute little herbivore has something special about themselves, isn’t that cute? He makes empty threats like “What pretty little piece of hair makes me want to rip from your head” why is he messing with you? Because he feels like it and your pretty eyes widening and ahoge standing up in the air. He’ll keeping saying empty threats just to mess with you

𝒜𝓏𝓊𝓁 𝒜𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓃𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑜

It’s when Floyd pulls your ahoge saying it’s his way of playing with you, Azul has to step in since Floyd was having too much “fun” with you instead of working at the lounge. They think that it’s good to understand what someone is thinking just by looking at their face but your obvious, way too obvious one look tells what you're feeling. Now he doesn’t bother guessing if you like since your ahoge shows it all off.

𝒦𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓂 𝒜𝓁-𝒜𝓈𝒾𝓂

WOW! Does it move on its own? It does! SO COOL! Now that just gave him more of a reason to hang out with you than how much he already does— he wants to touch your ahoge whenever you're feeling other emotions a lot if you want him to, if you don’t then it’s fine!

𝒱𝒾𝓁 𝒮𝒸𝒽𝑜𝑒𝓃𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓉

When you first saw Vil the strands of your hair turned into a heart, it always happened even while your together, his ego was getting better with the way he affected you to the point your own hair would jump up for him since he’s that beautiful! (He once tried to clip down your ahoge and the clip went flying across the room.

𝐼𝒹𝒾𝒶 𝒮𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒹

He wants to grab it, like really wants to grab it, whenever you come to visit, he just stares at it while it moves around in such an animated way, ‘pull it’ is what he’s thinking to himself, well he loses to his thoughts and just randomly grab onto your ahoge and gently tugs it while you whine at his action. So cute, your look so cute looking at him like that, your hand on top of your ahoge to keep from pulling it again. (Ortho lectures him) He's sorry HE REALLY IS but you look so..so cute he couldn’t help it! Forgive him, please!

𝑀𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓊𝓈 𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒾𝒶

How cute you were, your ahoge jumping up and down happily while walking over to see him, you really are one of a kind child of man, aren’t you? He tries his best to comfort you when you're feeling bad, grabbing your ahoge that was drooping down and making it stand up since you look better when you're happy.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

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jihyoruri · 6 months

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THE GIRL IS MINE — idol!sakura miyawaki x idol!reader

warnings: yn and sakura from heart racing and best friends, gidle!reader, kissing, mentions and hints of caught in between

sakura knew yn was known for her visuals. she also knew that her girlfriend had a lot of people after her, so why was is such a surprise to her to see people actually going after the gidle member.

she watched from across the room seated with her members as ryujin made small talk to yn since gidle and itzy were placed beside each other and both girls were sat beside each other a little small talk was bound to happen.

personally sakura didn’t think it was small talk it seemed more like flirting to her.

“you are shooting laser beams at her head.” a voice snaps sakura out of her daze as she quickly turns to face chaewon who has a playful look on her face.

sakura scoffs at the short haired girl before shadily muttering a “you’re one to talk.” making a jab at the girls jealous ways towards her two other members.

chaewon shoots the older girl a small glare deciding to ignore her comment, “she seems to be telling yn a funny joke.” which makes sakura snap her head back to the pair.

even though she couldn’t sakura could hear yn’s soft laugh in response to something that sakura could hardly believe was that funny.

sakura stiffened and muttered to chaewon, “why are we doing this again?” three major groups doing a variety show together seemed like a good idea when it was told to sakura that lesserafim along with gidle and Itzy will be taking part in it, but now not so much.

“and why are they seated next to each other and we’re sitting alone.” sakura ranted to the leader of the group, “this is why we can’t have odd numbers.”

“are you sure the odd number is your problem?” chaewon asked before pointing towards yn and ryujin, “I don’t think so.” she says slyly.

sakura glared at chaewon before nodding towards her two other members, “instead of paying attention to me pay attention to those two.”

it was like an alarm went off in chaewon’s head as she immediately turns her head in the direction that sakura nodded towards, quickly squeezing herself into the conversation of the two members, her mind completely off of sakura.

sakura felt herself smile at the mess that she calls her members but it immediately disappears when she hears the mc call your name.

“yn!” he says pointing at youngest member of gidle, your head snaps up and you raise a brow in question.

“you have two popular and influential groups in this room with you correct?” he asks and you nod your head immediately in response, “which member of either groups do you admire the most?”

yn look at the ceiling in thought before bringing her gaze to the hybe group making immediate eye contact with sakura, she smiles before bringing her eyes back to the man, “sakura.” she says pointing at the older girl.

the members of lesserafim cheer as a smile makes its way to sakura’s only to once again disappear off her face when a certain itzy member speaks up.

“not me?” ryujin asks teasingly leaning closer to yn who covers to face in a flustered manner, “yeah yn, not ryujin!?” the other mc shouts at the girl who puts her face in her hand at the teasing.

sakura narrows her eyes at ryujin who pats yn’s shoulder teasingly, could she back off?

the rest of the filming was just ryujin flirting with yn and everyone eating up, well everyone but sakura who felt like pushing over one of the cameras.

she trusted yn, it was the itzy member she didn’t trust, sakura thought it was pretty obvious that something between her and yn was going to pretty much everyone in the industry, so its either ryujin is oblivious or she just didn’t care.

sakura was leaning more towards the didn’t care option.

the girls were done filming and sakura was determined to find yn, she walked through the halls until she came to a stop when she saw who she was looking for but with the person she didn’t wanna see at all.

sakura watched as ryujin picked up the necklace on yn’s neck, “this necklace is cute.”

sakura tensed her mind going a thousand miles as ryujin takes her hand from your necklace and brings to yn’s arm rubbing it in a “friendly.” manner.

yn smiles brightly before responding with a bright, “thanks my gir-”

“there you are.”

sakura’s voice cuts yn off as she looks behind her to see her girlfriend who pulls yn closer to her, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

without sparring a look at ryujin sakura impulsively presses her lips onto yn’s who just stands still for a couple of seconds before kissing the older back.

yn slowly pulls herself away from sakura, coughing awkwardly before turning to ryujin, “you’ve probably met my girlfriend sakura right rue?”

sakura sends a fake smile to the girl as she wraps an arm around yn, “yes I have, hi.” ryujin replies making eye contact with the girl. “you got yourself a good one.” she smirks mockingly at sakura, making the japanese girls blood boil for some reason.

“I do.” sakura smiles it’s a petty smile, “you’re members might be looking for you.” she says nodding behind as she pulls yn closer to her if that’s even possible.

“you’re right...” ryujin trails off before bringing her gaze to yn, “I’ll see you around yn.”

“bye ryujin.” yn smiles still a little embarrassed as she leans into sakura who nods her head, “yeah, bye ryujin.” she says passively but the itzy member just chuckles and walks towards where her members are.

sakura visibly relaxes when the girl leaves before pressing a kiss on yn’s jaw who in response rolls her eyes, “what?” sakura asks innocently.

yn turns her body fully to look at the girl, “you know you don’t have to be jealous right? I only have eyes for you.”

“me?” sakura asks pointing towards herself, “jealous?”

in response yn nods her head, “yes you, but then again if I was my girlfriend I would get jealous too.” yn says teasingly as she presses a kiss on sakura’s cheek.

it’s now sakura’s turn to roll her eyes as she wraps an arm around yn’s should and starts walking towards the direction where all the groups are, “who gave you such an ego?”

“you.”

#lesserafim x reader #Lesserafim #sakura x reader #lesserafim sakura #sakura lesserafim #sakura miyawaki fluff #sakura miyawaki x reader #sakura miyawaki #gidle!yn #girl group imagines #girl group fluff

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thesecretwriter · 4 months

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how each moon boy would react to an argument with you – part 2.

summary: what the title says!

warning: fluff – like I said in part 1!

word count:

a/n: okayyyy, i saw the impact of part 1, i’m sorry for the angst! so here is some fluff to make it all better

minors/ageless blogs dni.

Masterlists

part 1

Steven Grant:

It was a sleepless night for him without you.

He laid in bed and stared at the ceiling aimlessly as he though back to the argument.

You were right, he shouldn’t be going to his ex-wife about issues in a private relationship.

He looked over to his nightstand and saw that his alarm clock read 2:35am.

He groaned in frustration and got out of bed to get dressed.

He had to make things right, tonight.

The corner store on your street was thankfully opened and he went into the store with the determination to get your favourite snacks.

The store had flowers, which he of course bought and in the corner of his eye he saw something shiny and knew he had to get it too.

You awoke from your sleep groggily when you heard constant knocking at your front door.

Upon opening it, you saw Steven standing there with his hands full and his hands full.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask feeling the emotions from hours ago resurfacing.

“Uh… well I came to apologize,” he said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

With a roll of your eyes, you stepped aside to let him in.

He walked in with a small smile, behind him were helium balloons which said, ‘happy birthday’ and ‘congratulations’.

You couldn’t help the small smile that made its way to your lips, but you maintained a neutral expression and locked the front door to join him in your living room.

His posture was tense as you watched him leave the contents in his hands on the nearby table. He still held the flowers in his hands as he walked to you.

“I’m sorry for everything I said and previously did. You’re absolutely right in being upset,” he said and looked at you with sincere eyes.

You knew he meant the apology, but his words and actions still tugged at your heart.

“Steven… “ you said tiredly, “I don’t know if I can-“

“No, please don’t say that,” he knew the words that were waiting to be said.

He couldn’t bare to hear them.

“I hurt you, and I shouldn’t have an I know asking you to stay with me is a lot. I just… for the first time in my life I have something I’m genuinely happy with,” he said with that all too familiar smile.

You understood his reasoning, but you needed him to understand yours as well.

“Communication in this relationship isn’t the strongest, and we need to work on that,” you said to him.

He heaved a sigh of relief.

“Tell me what I can do, and I’ll do it,”

“Layla… “ you said her name softly.

“She’s gone, I-I realised that it was extremely wrong of me to talk about you to her. I feel as though I had an obligation to compensate for the sadness I brought her previously, but i cant do it at the expense of you. it also not my place to do so,” he said truthfully.

You listened to him intently.

“Doing all of that made me blind to the fact that I was hurting you. I’m sorry, darling, so so sorry,” he made his way to you and grasped your hand with his free one whilst the other held the flowers.

“I can’t say that it’s okay, but I hope you don’t repeat this,” you said looking at him with unshed tears.

“Of course, I would never hurt you like this again,” he said honestly.

“You better not,” you say sternly but with a hint of humour.

With that being said, Steven held you close to him and didn’t want to ever let go.

Marc Spector:

He waited a few days, watching you from afar to make sure you were okay.

You were functioning well and doing things you’d usually do, but Marc could see through the front you were putting for everyone to see.

Pushing you away seemed like the best thing to do at the time, but having you away was like living without the sun in his dark world.

He needed you.

Which is why he found himself sitting in your apartment and waiting for you to come home. He’d entered your apartment by using his spare key.

It had since been 2 hours since you were supposed to be home.

Marc knew your schedule by heart.

He was about to go out and look for you when he heard the keys being put into your front door along with your muffled voice.

“Thanks for the chat, I really needed it,” you bid goodbye to whoever was outside and locked the door behind you.

Your apartment was still dark as you move around to leave your daily belongings in their respective places.

Upon turning the lights on, you saw Marc’s figure out of the corner in your eyes sitting on the couch.

You turned to him with a frown.

“If you’re here for your things, they’re in that box on the kitchen counter,” you said in a monotone, wanting to speech through the process of this one last meeting.

Marc wordlessly awoke from where he was and walked to you, the entire time he maintained eye contact with you.

He stopped walking till he was right in front of you, a hairs width away.

“What makes you think I came here for my things?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“What else would you be here for?” you said to him challengingly.

He smirked and looked to the side before looking back at you.

“You think I’d let you go that easily?” he said with a raised brow.

“You did that night,” you scoffed and folded your hands, causing him to step back.

He nodded with a clenched jaw.

“You know I didn’t mean anything I said,” he stated with sincerity.

“Sure you didn’t,” you breathed a sigh and walked away from him to the box on the counter.

He followed behind and trapped you between him and the counter before you could reach for the box and hand it to him.

“You wasted no time in gathering my things,” he said with a humourless chuckle.

“Hmm, I wouldn’t want you to deal with me any longer,” you used his words from that night.

“Y/n… “ he said trying to make you understand.

“No Marc, I can’t keep playing this game of push and pull,” you admitted, sounding tired.

“I’m not playing games,” he said offended.

You turn to face him, his body still trapping you between him and the counter.

You raised a brow at him.

“Okay. I admit, I’ve made mistakes and I’m sorry for that. Very sorry. But you’re the one thing that grounds me. I know what I said that night was out of line,” he finally apologizes.

You look at his expression intently. You can tell that he means his words.

“I need more than an apology from you,” you stated.

“Name what you want and I’ll do it,”

“I want you to be careful and take care of yourself. I know in that mind of yours you don’t care about your wellbeing, but if you care for me then you’ll take care of yourself,” you move your gaze to your hands as you talk to him.

“Of course I care about you, and if that is what you want, consider it done,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and brought you in for a hug.

Jake Lockley:

“Mi corazón…”

“Go away Jake,” you said as you exited the grocery store.

He had been trying to make you speak with him for the passed week and all you’ve been doing is ignoring him.

Serves him right for what he did.

What you didn’t understand was why he was trying to talk to you.

“Just one moment, please,” he said sounding exhausted.

“Go bother one of your many girlfriends,” you said bitterly.

“You’re the only one,” he grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards you and hindered you from walking away.

“Jake,” you say in a warning tone.

He looks up and down the street before pulling you down an alley way. You try to protest, but he puts a hand over your mouth.

“You will listen to me,” he snapped.

You nodded tiredly and his hold on you loosened but it remained there.

“I was on Khonshu’s orders to get important information the night you came into the bar,” he said with annoyance.

Even though Jake had been the most easy to work with when it came to Khonshu, he maintained hostility when it came to you and Khonshu.

He knew you wouldn’t like Khonshu’s request, but he had to comply since it was part of the deal.

“That woman who was with me is the daughter to a man who is an avatar,” he explained further, hoping you would understand.

You studied his stoic expression. He was being truthful.

“Why didn’t you tell me before doing it?” you asked feeling hurt that he didn’t seem to trust you.

“It was too dangerous to tell you and I needed you to be safe, mi luz,”

“Well, look at the outcome of you not telling me,” you said with sadness.

Jake looked at you with equal sad eyes. The week spent without you was torture, he had an argument with Khonshu and wanted nothing more than to seek comfort from you.

“I know, mi corazón. I’m so sorry,” he said and pulled hugged you tightly.

It was rare to see Jake be so affectionate, but you know your time apart had affected him. It did the same to you.

You melted into the hug and wrapped your arms around him.

tagging those that commented on part 1:

@milkypompon @hellomynameisells @brighterthanlonelywords @the-witheredroses @secretdazeobservation @stressed-cherry

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