#its pretty old so idk if there is really a tag for it on here?
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Boy King AU | Vettonso + Martian | 1.3k
There's something about putting the future emperor of the Holy Realm on his knees like this. About how easily he goes, how willingly, how obediently. What would his adoring public think if they could see him now. If they saw their beloved king pressed down like this, in the cramped space between Fernando's legs. When they realized their little boy king took it like he was a little concubine instead.
Fernando's bitterness is lifted away in moments like these, like taking off a heavy cloak on a winter's day. It was hard to feel humiliated about his own situation when watching Sebastian debase himself like this.
He always gives himself up so easily. When Fernando threaded his fingers through his thick curls. When he pulled them, and then when he pressed his face down further down into the vee of his legs. Sebastian rubbed his cheek into the coarse fabric of Fernando's breeches and blinked up at him. Fernando had to smother an embarrassing sound; he was just like a little cat!
Sebastian quirked his lips up into an odd little smile and slightly rose up on his knees, "What's funny?" Fernando swallowed lightly and schooled his face back into being impassive, "Nothing. As you were." Sebastian simply smirked at him and let himself be pushed back down by the fist clenched in his hair.
Fernando scoffed internally, there was only so much pleasure in putting the other man in his place when he instead acted like this, this degrading action, was his birthright. He took to ruling and indulging in carnal pleasures as if they were of equal gravity. To be privileged to hold such high station and also let himself be taken apart like this…Fernando felt embarrassed for him.
He is dragged away from his musings when Sebastian moved to settle his hands in Fernando's lap, clutching his hips over the fabric and slightly squeezing; Fernando fought against the urge to shiver. Sebastian pushed up the skirt of Fernando's waistcoat and smoothed his hands over the opening flap of his breeches.
His eyes darted up at Fernando again, a daft smile on his face. Fernando scowled at him, "What?" Seb's grin sharpened, "You could stand to be a little more gracious. This is your future emperor, and future husband might I add, kneeling for you on this dirty, depraved, derelict- ah–" Fernando tugged on his hair again and hissed, "Well then, why don't you show me how eager you are to perform your marital duties?"
Seb licked his lips, completely unconcerned by Fernando's annoyance, and unbuttoned one side of the closure to Fernando's breeches and moved to open the other–
The door to the carriage flew open, arrival announcement dying on a wheezing breath as the servant took in the image the two kings made. One splayed across the seat, exuding power, the other kneeled, debauched, between the former's legs.
One would be hard pressed to determine which was higher on the totem of power and titles.
There was something gratifying about this to Fernando, about being caught. He had been humiliated enough throughout the entire courtship, what was one more thing? And, certainly, what was one more thing if he could drag Sebastian down into the dirt with him.
"Oh Mark, don't act so abashed! It's nothing you haven't seen before, in fact, we have been in this very position not even a fortnight ago!"
Oh. Yes. That.
It was hard to be completely pleased when he remembered how Sebastian had already spent years prior to their engagement sampling the palace's ample selection of fellow high-born men. And how all those men seemed to be completely and utterly wrapped around his little finger.
Fernando released his hand from Sebastian's hair as if it had burned him. He did not understand why he felt ashamed with Mark looking in on them like this. Fernando was the one marrying Sebastian, not Mark; Mark was just a lowly courtier who had the esteemed duty of spending practically every waking hour with the brat…something he himself was decidedly not looking forward to.
Sebastian stayed kneeling, staring impassively up at Mark, still fiddling with the clasp on Fernando's breeches. Fernando gritted his teeth and looked up from where he was watching Sebastian's clever little hands; Mark stared back at him placidly.
Mark's indifference made the entire situation worse. Fernando now felt as if he was not doing anything unique, not doing anything particularly new. How many other men had Mark caught Seb with in this exact position? Fernando felt like he was just another plaything of the boy king, soon to be boy emperor, except his position was forever, permanent. He was the "Kept King", the king who only kept his throne due to the whims of a boy who doesn't even understand what power is.
Mark coughed, "Well," he says, "Your Majesty, I do believe you have a meeting to attend." Seb pouted at him and whined, "We were just getting to the main course," but still braced himself on Fernando's thighs and got up off the carriage floor.
Seb pranced down the steps Mark had placed next to the carriage, miming tripping sown the stairs, snickering when his action made Mark reflexively reach out to grab him, and then playfully skipped off the final step.
Fernando couldn't help but stare as Mark made the weirdest grimace in response, and he inexplicably felt all his mortification seep away from him. Huh. Maybe Mark is-
Seb then turned around and frowned at him, seemingly disappointed, but his eyes are deceivingly sharp, "Fernando, I regret to inform you that I have other duties I must attend to, you will simply have to wait." He then grinned up at Mark next to him and giggled as the other man stiffened when Sebastian looped both of his arms through Mark's.
He leaned all his weight on the other man, Mark not so much as shifting his weight, "Oh Mark, won't you carry me back to the palace? I'm so very tired after all the horse riding," Seb looked up at him imploringly.
Fernando observed as Mark rolled his eyes and shrugged off the man, though notably not pulling his arm from Seb's grasp, and he got the distinct feeling that this exact scene had been played out countless times before.
Fernando clenched his jaw as he watched Seb turn and saunter off, Mark trotting alongside him like a loyal dog. Fernando was supposed to be the unaffected one in this partnership, the unflustered one, the unconcerned one. And yet here he stood, in broad daylight, in a foreign kingdom, on the steps of a carriage with his breeches half unbuttoned and his cravat in disarray.
He heard a cough from beside him, jolted and looked to the side. Sebastian's loyal Horse Master stood there, lounging against the side of the carriage. Fernando had forgotten who had even been driving the carriage in the first place. After Seb has let himself be pushed down, his hair still windswept from their ride together, everything else seemed to fade away. His thoughts were reduced only to how he could mess up the younger man's hair further.
Jenson grinned at him wolfishly, and casually crossed his legs, "First time?" he inquired. Fernando glared at him. The other man laughed openly at him, "What? He's a busy man with big prospects. You're not his majesty's only conquest, you know. Now your throne on the other hand…"
Fernando seethed, it was one thing to be humiliated by the future emperor, but to be patronized by the king's horse boy? No. It would simply not do. He closed his eyes in annoyance, pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaled, and prepared a speech about how he was not about to be talked down to by a man who didn't even have a throne to speak of!
But when he opened his eyes again and opened his mouth to begin his tirade, Jenson was already wandering away to tend to the horses. Dios mío, Fernando was not mentally prepared to spend the rest of his life with all of these impertinent morons.
#i love how i kept saying to people: no no i shant write any fic for this. only art.#me like two weeks later: hey guys :)#this is just: i was sitting in class and had a drawing idea but then im obv not drawing *this* in class so my brain went into narrative mod#not exactly 'baby's first ficlet!!!' but moreso ive not written in a while so i hope its alright???#but aaahhh this was actually pretty fun!! idk i think it was bcs i was also being brainrotted by the image of seb kneeling....#maybe ill draw it. but it felt like something that needed the context of narrative and not just oo here is a drawing!#anyways you can always ask me for a directors cut-(PLEASE PLEAE BEGGING PLEASE)#see this is why im not cut out for writing fic#its not like i dont think it can speak for itself. more that im just an overly reflective person who wants to explain all my thoughts#if i wrote fic itd really be just: chapter 1. chapter 1.5 chapter 2. chapter 2.5#anyways i think its pretty obvious but this is before their wedding and just like peak bitterness.#well not peak. peak would be the first year- first few months of their marriage#but this is fernando who is only just realizing how naive all his expectations of seb were and getting a glimpse of his future#but mostly: mindgames and power play and: whos actually really winning?#also my god jense is literally the best chara in this au. he is vibing and basically just witnessing ye olde reality tv#mark and fernando are always in a weird powerplay with seb(even if seb isnt even consiously doing so) and jense is just free from it all#hmm now how does one go about tagging fic#vettonso#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1#formula 1#martian#sebmark#also idk why im always so concerned abt tagging when im basically just writing this for my little boy king following i have somehow formed#hahaha! it is art to me!:#catie.art.#boy king au
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sketched out a comic page just to see if i Could. always been too intimidated but i'd like to finish and make this minicomic...
#id love to make comics ideally i just dont know if i have the energy for it#but id love to do short ones at least#pyre#maya#starfall tag#doodles#this one is of a scene i cant fit into bugs of petalroot or any starfall story naturally bc idk where itd go#but also its pretty significant. in a domino effect way#id like to show off at least some of pyre's deal and this comic is basically the very very very start of it all for her#for now. she and maya being sisters :3 little trapinches. nothing fucked up will ever happen ever#also pyre's charmander design may change since her actual charizard form isnt finalized but ill figure that out later#i call this ''destiny's divide'' btw#does it need a name? not really. but i wanted to give it one#also!! maya's like a week old here while pyre's 6 or so
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actually i feel like a whole essay could be written about "Random Humor" and how it did not really go away so much as get rebranded and change its presentation somewhat. tumblr especially loves its absurdist non-sequiturs but it is afraid to call it as it is (random humor) and quite frankly some of the posts on this site WISH they could be as funny as a ytp from 2009. i havent the braincells right now (or maybe ever idk) to write such an essay though
#error 0#that being said i do think some part of it has to do with what stock phrases and topics are in vogue#a lot of old school random humor memes were based around like... food and unusual but charming animals#late 2010s was idk. teeth? convoluted death threats?#and right now wizard jokes are pretty big#my point being i guess that like. when a meme is Big you can get caught in the hype and find it funny just because its a meme#but in order to have staying power outside of that a non-sequitur needs to TRULY be a non-sequitur or do something interesting w the topic#we look back fondly on spadinner now but there's a reason people grew so tired of it back then#and i cant remember the last time an ''artsy'' unprovoked death threat crossed my dash except to complain about it#wizards... that's a topic with a lot of room to explore and make a large variety of jokes. but i wonder if it will last#maybe in 5 years we'll be looking back like ''i miss the wizardbloggers'' or maybe we will be like ''ugh remember all the wizard jokes?''#i hope not the latter i actually rather like the wizards#but i digress the main point i was trying to make here was that a lot of ''random'' humor is not truly non-sequitur#both now AND back then#which is why its easy to pretend theres REALLY a difference between “ZOMG ZOMBIE TACOS?!?!” and “horse plinko eeby deeby”#and. oh my god i just went and wrote an essay in the tags instead of the main post. goddammit#oh well. hopesfuly this oversimplified rambling makes sense to someone else on this earth other than me
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Part 1: Unexpected | Max Verstappen x Fem Reader |
mixed Social media AU
summary: Max stumbles upon a twitch streamer who peaks his interest
✮▹A/N: Love you guys and thank you for 1,000 notes on my last post but also 100 followers! love you guys
✰▹Warnings/Notices: Used random names for readers friends, also i really didnt know how to format this tbh so might be a bit weird and make no sense. NOT EDITED.
Part 2: Here!
liked by 25,456 others
@Y/N: Stream was lovely today, sorry for missing the last stream. love you guys and see you on the weekend! ALSO new video out on YouTube with Theo and Lorelei.
Y/N has posted a youtube video!
YouTube transcript!
Y/N: Its actually really pretty out today, I expected it to be a little more gloomy. But its rather sunny out.
Lorelei: Why are you talking like that?
Y/N: What do you mean? Just because you still talk like a 5 year old doesn't mean I have to stay on your level.
Lorelei: Anyways...
Theo: Did you hear that they're planning an f1 race here?
Y/N: F1? Like the vroom vroom thing you like?
Lorelei: PLEASE the vroom vroom thing.
Y/N: I DONT KNOW WHAT IT IS!
Theo: Yes the vroom vroom thing. Anyways yea they're planning it.
Lorelei: What team do you like?
Theo: McLaren. you?
Lorelei: Maybe Redbull or Ferrari.
Y/N: Preferably I like the one thats winning. so...
Theo: Redbull.
Y/N: got it.
Y/N: I wanted to buy this coat from down the street from my apartment but it was like $150. At that time I really thought about where and if I should find a rich man to marry.
Lorelei: F1 drivers are rich.
Theo: Like rich rich, mainly the popular and good ones but thats besides the point.
Y/N: As much as you guys try im not gonna get into F1. And also why is this video just you guys insulting me over not knowing anything.
Theo: We just think you'll like it.
Y/N: Cars going in a circle for 2 hours? Would rather watch football
Lorelei: But you like football.
Y/N: Yeah thats my point?
Max Verstappen has gone live!
Max Verstappen has ended the stream!
Liked by Max verstappen & 32,345 others
@Y/N: Why are people tagging me in F1 stuff? And whos Max verstappen? HELP.
user8: LMFAO MAX IN THE LIKES. THIS POOR GIRL.
user9: I think you should do a reaction video or stream to everything.
↪ user10: she would need Theo and Lorelei for help.
user11: MAX CAN TELL YOU.
↪ Y/N: WHO TF IS MAX?
↪ Lorelei: Babe please come to my room. I'll explain everything.
↪ user12: MAKE A VIDEO OUT OF IT PLEASE OR STREAM IT.
↪ Y/N: Will do?
Y/N has gone Live!
titled: HELP ME.
⭒❃.✮:▹A/N: Guys im deeply sorry if this makes no sense and everything is confusing. IDK what im doing. but love you guys and I hope you enjoyed.
#f1#f1 fandom#f1 fanfic#formula one fanfiction#f1 imagine#formula 1#max verstappen#f1 x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen f1#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x you#my fic#fic rec#fanfic#fanfiction#social media au#smau#really consusing?#no idea
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ASKING FOR IT !
ft. og4 leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. p in v, smut, cheating (not on reader), ooc leon sorry, he’s mean, negging, misogyny, reference to past rape/non-con, unresolved trauma, suicidal thoughts duhhh, he calls reader ugly a lot, leon subs for his gf but doms reader, non-con to consensual sex, manipulation, some .. uh waterboarding? he dunks your head in water, opioid addiction but it’s minor LMFAOO
note. haii… um feedback whether it’s good or bad appreciated really forced myself to write this so im like ack. hating everything i write but! ignore typos :3 it’s not as fleshed out as i wanted .. soooo it reads pretty jolty but yah 😭 and the smut is like not. IDK I’m ugh not into it just couldn’t bring myself to extend stuff that I really wanted to develop n he’s ooc. BUT!! again ignore typos or I’ll cry n feedback/constructive criticism appreciated <3
Leon has a girlfriend. He can never hold down a girl, his ability to scare women away is preternatural, so it’s a big deal. And she’s fucking hot. Not like model hot, but pornstar hot. She’s got tits so firm they might as well be bulletproof. Bottle blonde with eyes that swallow up her whole face. Her stomach doesn’t crease when she sits. It’s the type of beauty that takes its form in slashes of red lace and nylon. Not many women are out of his league, but she is.
They have hot sex like attractive people tend to do, and it goes something along the lines of this.
He goes:
Is that dick good, baby? You like it? Right there, baby?
And she goes:
Fuck, yes, baby! Harder, deeper— Oh, right there!
And then she doesn’t cum.
So there’s that, but he’s working on it.
Leon doesn’t take well to tips on how to fuck. Reading advice columns in the Men’s Health magazine leaves a funny taste in his mouth. It might be the blood from the castrated image of his masculinity. Who knows.
He struggles with that sort of thing. A nice face does nothing for a man who doesn’t actually like anything about himself. Leon’s still that wimpy self-hating loser he was all those years ago. In all fairness to God, there are a few added tweaks here and there. Some bug fixes. Now he’s drunk and shallow too! Misanthropic when he’s at his very best.
As a kid, mom told Leon to be a nice boy so he was a nice boy. Not because he was ever a particularly nice boy, but for her sake. So instead of acting out he would go and crush ants beneath his thumb in the front yard because there is this mean part of Leon that splinters inside of him like cooked bones.
Life to Leon is being fucked into apologising for being alive so it’s no wonder he’s still harbouring the insecurities of a boy he isn't.
When he was eighteen it was by ugly old men who abhorred him for being the embodiment of whatever it was they were hiding from their wives. His legs looked nice thrown over a pair of big shoulders. They were so thin back then, model-type shit. All of those men mildly resembled his dad, but that’s something he wouldn’t quite like to crack down on yet. Leon’s being open enough as it is.
When he was twenty-one it was his headache of a first girlfriend. It was the bullet wound in his shoulder. When he was twenty-two it was being passed around boot camp like a dirty needle. When he was twenty-seven it was Luis who was nothing and everything in between. It was a picture book princess like Ashley. The scar on his shoulder. Stigmata. Glory Be. Whatever.
(And Jack, it was always Jack. Pale all over like a healed scar.)
What Leon is trying to get across, he’s not quite sure. Maybe that he's nice in theory and the reality is he’s a self-confessed charlatan of niceness. Or that he can’t fuck. He can’t fuck because he is deeply traumatised. Yeah. Maybe that’s what he’s trying to say. It’s an excuse, sure, doesn’t make it the truth though. Leon can’t fuck ‘cause he’s useless at most things that don’t include guns. He can’t fuck ‘cause he was unattractive as a teenager and that solidified the way he feels about himself now.
Leon’s got one thing going for him - he fingers her pussy till his fingers prune. Eats her out till he gets lockjaw.
“Oh, you’re so good at that,” she says, kissing his slicked-up lips.
Then her eyes flit to his hard dick and she gives him that strange half-smile. One that seems to say: Not with that. His dick. Obviously.
His shit is big enough, it’s long enough— It’s enough. And it’s pretty. Could put a bow on to make it real cute. Could manufacture a dildo inspired by it. So Leon cannot for the life of him wrap his head around her problem. It’s not his dicks fault her pussy is fucking broken. Her broken pussy doesn’t get to make his dick sad. Doesn’t get to lay devastating blows on his gone-with-the-wind ego.
Another thing is, her sister is an ugly bitch. That upsets Leon and his dick in tow. You’re a student, taking a break for some reason Leon has not bothered to fathom. He couldn’t care less. Go do it someplace else. In this house, you’re nothing more than a cockblock. Leon could forgive you for being a cockblock if you weren’t ugly. Or vice versa.
It would be okay if Leon wasn’t stuck at home with you for hours at a time. Work fucked up his back, so he’s staying here in his girlfriend’s apartment eating her food, running her taps, fucking her badly and shitting on her sister.
You’re sat on the other end of the table with a soggy bowl of cereal while he nurses a juice box like a real man. What do ugly little things like you think about anyway?
When Leon was ugly he thought about forcing his dick into the cute girl next door between his more regular thoughts of what to eat for dinner and whether he stocked up on toilet paper or not.
When he was ugly, his day was made simply by a pretty girl looking in his general direction. So Leon makes sure to look in yours. Y’know, to fuel your perverted wet dreams. Your rape fantasies. What freaks think about when they’re near hot guys. Well, it’s strange actually. You tend to totally ignore him. When the two of you make brief eye contact, you don’t flounder or duck or bow your head like you’re shy— You just move on with your life. That bothers him. Leon’s hot now. He’s not the type of man you just brush over like that. He’s the type you gawk at in broad daylight, he’s the sort of guy you see in soft porn magazines.
“Good morning,” his girlfriend greets, “have a good sleep, sweetie?” She bumps your hip when you stand up to hug her.
She’s wearing stockings today. Oh, he loves stockings. He loves pencil skirts. He loves— He loves office wear. He wants to be put over her lap and spanked raw perhaps.
“Yeah, it’d be nice if your boyfriend stopped moaning like a girl though.” It’s said into her ear, but Leon hears it.
“I’m going now, honey,” his girlfriend tells him.
Like a good boy, Leon stands to bid her goodbye. Her blouse is sheer, shows off her black bra and he eyes it with distaste.
“What’s wrong, Leon?”
He doesn’t speak. Just glares at her perfect set of tits like a baby weaned off milk.
“I can’t take them off,” she snorts.
Leon wishes she could. Hang ‘em up in the closet and pop them back on when it’s time to play. Tits are for the bedroom. Otherwise, they’re too much of a distraction. Instead, he settles on slipping his hand up her skirt to check if she’s wearing panties. (There’s no panty line showing through her pencil skirt and that’s always a bad sign.) She shoos him away.
So Leon leans in for a kiss, and she says, “Nuh-uh, honey, you’ll ruin my makeup.” Then she gives in ‘cause Leon can be kinda cute when he tries hard enough. “Just one, okay?”
“Yeah.” Leon nods. Her kisses are analgesic. Which is unfortunate considering he has an opioid addiction. Almost an addiction.
“One,” she counts, Leon kisses her again, “two, three, four.”
She’s teasing him now.
“Okay, well, keep an eye on her, Leon.”
“I’m not twelve,” you say, exiting the kitchen to spare yourself the sight of him groping your older sister.
Yeah, and Leon’s not a bang nanny.
He wipes the red from his lips, takes his juice box from the table where you’re no longer and decides jerking off in the shower will make him feel better. Leon does. He finishes. Watches his seed wash down the drain and wonders if that was wasteful. A short intermission is taken, then he jerks off in front of her full-body mirror. His biceps flex and his abs tighten, and he looks fucking good.
Why isn’t she cumming? What’s wrong with her? Is she getting too old? Is menopause hitting already? She’s only thirty-something. It can’t be that, and she asked Leon to pick up tampons last week— Unless they were for you.
Nobody in this house tells Leon anything. Another shower is what he needs. No, he needs a smoke. Leon doesn’t smoke. He does the next best thing, rests idly against the railings of her balcony, observing the ballet of D.C. life. Man, he could throw himself over right now. Splat against the asphalt and that would be it. It’d all be over. Hauling his weight over would be no problem. Catastrophizing to pass the time. Men used to do this for a living in Ancient Greece. What happened to philosophising? Leon could be a philosopher, all they did was spout nonsense and he is good at that. Not at fucking, however.
Beer. Yeah. Beer. That’s what he needs. Leon ransacks the fridge to no avail. Health-conscious living is the reason for misery, he believes. See, very insightful, modern-day Socrates right here. Lean proteins, vegan substitutes, low-fat yoghurt— It’s so girly it makes him sick.
“She’s still on a health kick,” you say from behind him, “I thought it was a New Years thing, but she’s still, like, super into it.”
Why are you talking to him? Leon blinks at you owlishly. “Right,” he says.
You give him a funny look, turning back to the counter to use the coffee machine. Don’t you want him? You’re not shy. Why aren’t you shy? Shouldn’t you be shy? Ugly Leon was mute around girls whether they were short, fat, ugly or pretty. Shit, he is clucking for a beer.
“There's Chardonnay under the sink.” Well, that’s unhelpful.
“Yeah, I don’t- I don’t drink that.” He would like to finish his sentence off with ‘girly shit’ but you seem like the type to find that offensive.
“Figured.” The coffee machine whirs. A lobotomised silence ensues. “Good talk.”
You’re so ugly you’re asking for it. Perfect subject for the ‘I can’t make my girlfriend cum, is her pussy broken?’ experiment. Ugly girls don’t count as a fuck, right? Not when they’re sent to the very back of your mind after said fuck. He wonders how many girls counted the uglier him as an official lay.
You’re on your tummy reading a book. The Beautiful and Damned. Leon had no idea they wrote a book about him. The door creaking exposes his creeping against his will.
“Do you need something?” you ask without batting an eye.
The swell of your ass is nice. “Uh, yeah, I do.”
Rolling over and sitting up to face him, you tilt your head to the side. “Go on.”
“I want to have sex with you.” Woah. Okay. That’s a genie he can’t put back in the bottle. Fuck, why does he do this stupid shit? Leon should just kill himself. All roads lead to suicide. Every sign points towards suicide and he is still holding on for dear life.
Think about Sherry. Sherry won’t care, kids hit sixteen and don’t give a fuck about much, he reasons with the voice in his head. How about Claire? Oh, she’ll think good fucking riddance. Redfield? No way. You are truly out of options, Kennedy.
“I’m sorry?”
Oh, god no, Leon’s the one that should be sorry. “You heard me.” The apology comes out incredibly wrong. “I’m helping you out.”
“Helping me out with what? I’m sorry, Leon, I didn’t… I didn’t think I— I don’t know what made you think I wanted this from you, but I don’t like you—“
You don’t like him? Why not? He’d like a list of reasons with a page-long explanation. What’s not to like? The hair. It’s the hair. Blond is too girly. That’s what it is.
“—I mean, you’re with my sister, did you really think I would say yes? I’m sorry, I’m just a little confused, where is this coming from? Gosh, I really… I don’t know what to say.”
“I’m helping you out,” Leon repeats, using his hands to gesture at your face, at your body. “No one else is gonna do it.” This apology has gone way out of bounds. A simple sorry would have sufficed.
“What..?” Something doleful crosses your face, then it twists unpleasantly. “You think I want to have sex with you… ‘cause I’m not cute? Like, you think I’m…”
Ugly, yes. He does. Only a little. Can you turn over? He wants to make you cum. “You’re a virgin, yeah?”
“Oh my god, there’s, like, something wrong with you!” You stand to your full height in a pitiful attempt to appear frightening. That face is enough to scare a man away already. “Get out— And I am so telling her when she gets back home, I told her I didn’t like you, I told her and now you just-“
Leon grabs you by the jaw, squeezes you so tight it clicks. “Okay, sweetheart, here’s how this is going to go,” he starts, taking both your wrists in a single hand, “we’re going to start over, and you’re going to be a good little girl and apologise to me like you really mean it.”
“Apologise for what?” It comes out muffled through your forced pout so he chooses to ignore you.
“I don’t know what you fuckin’ said.” Leon should just end it here, he should let go of you and check into the nearest asylum. He’s hot. Leon is box blond. He’s tall enough to dwarf most girls. His face is nice. His body is nicer. So he doesn’t know what his problem is. Once pinned down, you shrink away from him, expression so sour your skin looks ready to melt off your skull.
And then he fucks you till you stop screaming. He leaves you in a withered heap, heads back to his room to take a well-deserved nap, hides his face in the pillows. They smell like her. He should think about killing himself some more. That gun looks awfully shiny. Nth time could be the charm.
She gets home in the evening, drops her bag on the floor to alert him of her entrance.
“I missed you.” Leon noses at her neck.
“You were sleeping.” She ruffles his hair like he’s a child.
“I still missed you.”
“Even when you’re sleeping?”
In the least creepy way possible, he wants to wear her skin as a suit, and she thinks his body doesn’t yearn for her at every sleeping second?
“The most when I’m sleeping, have bad dreams without you,” Leon mumbles groggily.
“How cute,” she muses, “good day?”
“Great day.” Leon nods. “Real productive.”
“Oh yeah? What’d you get up to?” A singular red nail strokes along his spine.
“Thought about you,” he answers, leaving out the part where he spent half of his time jerking off. Oh, and the part where he fucked her sister into submission. He raped you. He did. Leon doesn’t like that word. Far too harsh.
“Now, don’t push it, mister.” When she smiles there’s a lack of wrinkles— Not even smile lines, it’s artificial almost.
Leon’s good at pushing buttons. He should get paid for it. “It’s true, if you said jump I’d ask how high.”
“You’re so funny, Leon.” She kisses his head and laughs all prim and proper.
“Serious, babe, I’m super partial to jumping,” he says to hear her laugh again. He’s more partial to suicide. It’s great. A one-way ticket off of God’s green inferno. Who would he even be without suicide ideation?
“Alright, but I’d like you all in one piece.” She kisses his cheek. “No jumping, okay, honey?” She kisses his neck and his collarbones and his Adam’s apple and he’s unable to breathe.
“Okay,” Leon says. He gets it now. She’s mommying him. Maybe this is what Leon needs. To play house. A daddy to fuck his throat and a mommy to sit on his dick and tell him that he’s a good boy and he’s needed and he won’t have to think if he has a mommy and daddy to do that for him.
Can he backtrack on the rape thing? Trust Leon to take a good thing and ruin it in the worst way possible. If he kissed you he could’ve wormed his way out of it. Told her it was the medication he’s on, that he had a mental breakdown, a midlife crisis.
At dinner, your silence slips under the radar like cumstains on motel bedsheets. You pick at your food, and when Leon’s knee brushes yours under the table, you excuse yourself. Sometimes he thinks that he is a bad person, this can be backed up by many things. Violating you might outweigh saving the world.
In bed, he thinks about changing, about calling his therapist in the morning, he might take a leap off that balcony, cleaning up his act sounds terribly hard. Leon does this all with his head tucked into the hollow of his girlfriend’s neck. The thinking has killed his boner and now he can’t get it up. So he pretends to fall asleep. It’s an unconvincing performance ‘cause the moment she swipes a hand over his ass he lets out a disgruntled noise. Leon clenches so quickly his stomach caves in.
“You don’t like that, honey?”
He shakes his head, overgrown bangs falling in his eyes. Leon has a nice ass. It’s no wonder she wants to touch it, leg presses have done him wonders, but still, it’s off-limits. She can’t sweet talk her way into this anytime soon.
“Why, Leon?” She’s cupping his ass like he’s a girl. Leon’s not a girl. “You’d look so cute.”
“No,” he whines, and it sounds kind of sexy. He gets it. He can see the appeal.
“I think you just need some encouragement, baby.” She’s taking him apart like a gun. Folding him like laundry. Milks his prostate so well he sleeps like a baby. Not even a shadow of an orgasm to be seen from her side.
She leaves early the next morning and he’s left alone to ruminate. What he finds out today is that you’re pretty diligent at sucking dick when forced.
Leon thinks he would like to break you in a way that only he can fix.
He pushes your head down on his dick till your lips are stretched so far they split at the corners, you gag wetly each time the fat tip knocks the back of your throat, heavy balls slapping against your chin.
“Aww, look at you,” Leon coos, “little girl taking big things.”
Fat tears well in your eyes, a faint tremor betrays your effort to hold them back, a single blink and they roll down your cheeks like dewdrops. It might be the dick lodged in your throat, pulsing under your tongue— Yeah, no, it’s his dick in your mouth. That’s why you're upset. No other reason for it. Leon finds you a little ungrateful. A lot of women would pay for this, to drain his balls. Hell, your sister loves to do it.
“One at a time, sweetheart,” he says as he guides you to his balls, “can’t have you choking, can we?” You look up at him blankly. Leon thought he was funny and that’s all that matters. “Go on, spit on ‘em, get me nice and wet.” The drool pooling beneath your tongue drizzles his balls in clear strings, his drippy tip bumps the bridge of your nose, rests comfy on your brow ridge.
You’re struggling real bad. He’ll take it as a compliment. The thing is, you refuse to just lick them, pulling off each ball with a wet pop! and a dry cough. Leon starts to zone out so he shoves you off and quite pathetically, you fall flat on your back.
“You didn’t shave,” Leon notes in distaste, he was going to do you a favour too.
“No— Not for you.” You squirm like a fish on the docks when he hovers over you.
“Not for me, right.”
“Anyone but you.”
“You're not gonna do it for anyone, sweetheart, know why?” Leon clicks his tongue when you dodge his kiss, twisting your neck to keep a distance.
“Why?”
“No one else wants you,” he states, “you’re lucky that I want you.”
“Well, that’s not true.” You’re stubborn amongst all your other undesirable traits.
Leon scoffs. “What, so you ever had a boyfriend?” He runs his index finger along your slit. Bone dry. Serious? He assumes you’re still sore from yesterday.
“That’s none of your fucking business.”
“Don’t get mad at me, honey, I’m just helping you out.” Leon spits on your pussy, then on his thick cock for good measure, jerks his shaft and presses a thumb to his tip to guide it into you. Your lips fold inwards around him as he breaches your tiny hole. There’s too much resistance for it to be a smooth sailing journey, and you’re new to cock, cunt pushing him out as your body tenses. “I’m being nice to you, so you should say thank you.”
“Oh, god,” you mutter, brows knit in what might be pain or pleasure.
“Yeah, that’s what you’re calling me now?” The look you give him is priceless, small hands settling on his chest as you push at him weakly. “No, baby, you don’t get to do that.” Leon bottoms out, he rolls his hips forward to grind the head of his dick into your cervix, the fleshly opening moulds to his tip and you cry out. He can never tell if you’re enjoying it.
Leon sticks his fingers in your mouth to coat them in spit, you retch and he rubs figure eights on your clit, only then does your cunt loosen up its hold on him. It’s a quick process, the quicker he rubs you raw, the wetter you get, biting down on your tongue to keep quiet, but low groans slip past your cracked lips.
“Oh, there we go, baby, that’s it,” Leon coos, his cock slicked up by your wet pussy, sliding in and out with ease. His hips snap forward, forcing himself deeper into your messy little pussy, so wet you’re dripping down his balls, wetness stuck to your inner thighs.
“Fuck— I can’t, I can’t do it, ‘s too big,” you whimper, a hand slipping between your bodies to lay on your stomach. What you don’t understand is that he is big, yeah, but your pussy just needs to be broken in. Like a new pair of shoes.
“You’re doing it, baby,” Leon says, ‘cause you are doing it. You’re taking it. Body going rigid with each brutal thrust into your sopping wet hole. Whether you can take it or not isn’t for you to decide anyway. “I’m going to stuff your little pussy full,” he tells you.
“No,” you choke out, scratching at his chest, nails too blunt to do any sort of damage. Thank fuck. His girlfriend would go nuts.
It’s a satisfying victory, he covers your mouth to concentrate all his energy into this creampie, fills you to the brim, seed thick enough to stick to your insides. The original aim of his ‘experiment’ is forgotten, Leon doesn’t care if you cum or cry or pass out on his dick.
“I’m tellin’ her when she comes home.” Your threat is weak. He feared the consequences of yesterday, but you said nothing.
“You’re not telling her, you like me too much,” Leon decides, “I know you do, baby.”
“I don’t like you at all.” Your bottom lip trembles, fists balled up by your sides. The contempt only turns him on.
“No, but I think you know I’m right, don’t you?” No one else wants you, and you know that. Leon knows you know that. He’s the only one that is ever going to fuck you.
“Right about what? You’re a fucking psycho— I could get you locked up, I should get you locked up.”
“You should, so what're you waiting for?” If you did report him, Leon would just kill himself, going to prison sounds like a bore. “I think, sweetheart, that secretly, you really like it when I rape you.”
And your silence proves him right.
That report never comes. Duh. You love his dick. You like being roughed up. You know you’re deserving of it. Jesus Christ, Leon needs to call his shrink. Honestly, being around you is hard. It’s like his guilty conscience has developed a human body, shambling around the apartment in the shape of a malformed ghost girl, reminding him of the shit he’s said and done to you. You’re spinning in his necrosed brain like one of those music box ballerinas.
“Leon, be a doll and do me up,” his girlfriend is facing away from him, the smooth skin of her back and shoulders bared to him.
Leon only hears the ‘do me’ part, kissing the nape of her neck, reaching round to grab at her fat tits. “I love you…”
“I love you too, baby, but what do you think you’re doing?”
Leon makes a motion with his fingers, she sees it in the mirror.
“What is that, sign language?”
“No, I want to finger you.”
“Oh, well, that’s lovely, baby, but it’s not the time for that. I asked you to zip me up, Leon.” He zips her up while wondering how she can be so unaffected by him being so stupid.
“Hey, are you ready to go?” You knock on the door, you keep hiding your face from him today. His girlfriend said it’s ‘cause you have makeup on. Apparently that changes things. It’s sort of cute. Like, are you shy? You should be shy.
“Oh, no one likes cliffhangers, honey,” she says, forcing you to swap out some open-toe sandals for a pair of her heels. “Okay, Leon, I’ve left your dinner in the fridge, yes?”
Yes, mommy. “Yeah, babe.”
“And there’s snacks in the cupboard now, oh, and don’t use the tap water, it tastes strange so I stocked up— Leon, will you stop doing that with your jaw?”
Sorry, mommy. “Sorry, babe.”
“He’s totally fucking gurning,” you inform her in a way that screams playground snitch. He’ll choke you out for that.
“Gurning, what’s that?” His girlfriend asks cluelessly. This bitch is in her early thirties, Leon has no idea why she acts fifty. Whatever, it’s hot, he gets a girl with all the traits of an older lady without the sagging.
“Like, y’know, ‘cause he’s on meds.” What a little shit. Is this you getting back at him? Some petty fucking act of revenge? Getting his medication taken away from him by his health freak girlfriend?
“Medication? I didn’t know about this, Leon.” She looks at him like he’s killed her mother. Or raped her sister. If only she knew.
“Yeah, for my back, my back hurts, babe— Th-That’s why I’m on leave. My back hurts.” What a compelling act. Totally not a dude that’s two minutes away from injecting black tar heroin.
“Who prescribed them, a doctor or a vet?” You cock your head to the side. Fine. You fucking got him.
“Same thing.” Leon shrugs.
She makes him empty the bedside desk of pills. “Leon, good boys don’t do this. We don’t take drugs in this household, let me take them off your hands.”
“They’re- Babe, they’re not drugs, they’re for my back— I hurt my back.” Granted, his back stopped aching a few days back, he’s just taking advantage of the break. Also, he’s not a child.
“Your back, honey, I know it hurts.” She waves him off. “We can fix it, huh? I can book you in for acupuncture or cupping— Oh, what about a chiropractor?”
“Fine,” Leon says, voice cracking, watching in devastation as she takes his pills in a black garbage bag.
“Bye, Leon, see you later, honey.” She blows him a kiss and he catches it. He has to catch it.
“Yeah, bye, Leon!” You wave at him, looking happier than you have in days.
The door opens an hour later and Leon takes his hand out of his pants. You stand in front of him with red eyes and messy makeup. Leon, being the gentleman he is, takes you into his arms and rubs your back to soothe you as he tells you, more than a little cruel, I fucking told you so.
At least now you know that some guys aren’t as nice as Leon. Some men will spit in your face without considering how tight your pussy is, they won’t even think about how good your tits look in that push-up bra. See? That’s what the real world is like.
The bath fills as he bends you over the sofa. You’re prettier from behind, dress hiked up, soaked panties around your ankles. His hand smooths down the front of your stomach to cup your puffy cunt, prodding at your swollen clit. You shaved. Funny. Thought you were going to get a dick that wasn’t his.
Leon kneels, he spreads your ass cheeks to lick into your pussy from behind, tongue lapping up the beads of arousal that dribble down the seam of your cunt like sticky honey. He laps at your hole and you arch your back to push into him, his tongue fucking your pussy so well, sloppy sounds fill his ears.
“Been wanting to do this,” Leon says into your cunt, tongue making its way back up the centrefold of your fat pussy, he blows spit bubbles on your clit and then he nips at it until you cry out, startled by the jolt of pain. His dick kicks in his sweats. You taste good to make up for that face of yours.
You cream in his mouth so sweetly, toes curling against the wooden floor. Leon wipes his mouth on his forearm, then he wraps it around your neck, pulling your body flush to his. In his chest, his heart flutters when you press a delicate kiss to his bicep. He feels it and you can’t unfeel that.
“I’m sorry, Leon,” you get out through shaky moans as he sandwiches his shaft between your chubby pussy lips, bumping the tip into your clit as his hips move back and forth. “I’m sorry… Didn’t know-“
“It’s okay, baby.” He kisses behind your ear. “It’s alright ‘cause you know now, huh?”
“Yeah,” you agree tearfully, tilting your head so it rests on his broad chest, he gives your pout some wet kisses.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, hm, baby?” Leon nudges you with his nose.
Your idea of cleaning up might be far from what Leon’s is. He doesn’t think you were expecting something so extreme. But it’s for thinking you’re worth something— For thinking that anyone else would do as little as touch you. It’s to wash off that pitiful attempt at makeup.
He bends you in half over the tub. Your tits hang low enough to be squashed against the edge painfully as Leon dunks your head into lukewarm water. Holy shit. Tomorrow will be the day he overdoses. Why is he doing this?
A strangled noise passes your lips as he lets up, and you re-emerge, Leon wipes a hand over your face to rid you of the streaky mascara and sticky gloss.
“There we go, sweetheart, nice and clean.” He presses the tip into your leaking cunt, it catches on your hole, and you flail, water spilling over the edge, surface tension broken as it ripples.
Honest to god, Leon hasn’t fucked a pussy tighter than yours, and when he holds you beneath the surface? Man, you might deglove his dick. He works his cock into you, and when he’s balls deep in your sloppy cunt, Leon allows you to lift your head to which you pant and gasp and cough. All the shit a drowning person does when they’re tossed a lifesaver.
Your body sags, hanging limp with only Leon to hold you up as he roughly fucks in and out of your poor hole, heavy balls slapping against your skin.
“I love you, Leon,” you tell him, rubbing at your stinging nose with your fist, pussy tightening when he pinches your throbbing clit.
“Aw, do you, baby? You love me?” Leon laughs, the mean smile on his face hidden in your shoulder, “That’s so cute.” He rocks back and forth, shallow thrusts that are more for him than they are for you, rabbiting his dick into your squelching pussy until his balls pulse and his shaft twitches inside of you. “Real— Real fuckin’ cute,” he grits out as he buries himself to the hilt, shooting his load in your willing little pussy.
“I think so,” you whimper, thighs trembling as the knot in your stomach snaps and you coat his cock in your slick. Hey, his dick isn't a problem then.
Leon thinks about calling his shrink. The bad shit he does won’t fix itself like he wants. “Clean up,” he tells you, looking at the wet ground. The soaked rug. Your face.
“What… Leon, where are you going?” You use your palms to mop the excess water from your face. “Seriously, Leon? I just… I told you that…”
He has things to do - Leon’s going to call his shrink and very promptly throw himself over the balcony when she doesn’t answer his call.
#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy angst#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon s kennedy x you#leon s kennedy angst#leon s kennedy smut#resident evil x you#resident evil angst#resident evil x reader#resident evil smut
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the finer things in life // LTPF
summary: coryo merely tolerates you at the beginning of the series. this, is why.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 4.6k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. underage drinking/drug use (its just weed dw), some suggestive content that's not explicit (that's a first for me woah).
a/n: THIS DROPS SOME MAJOR LORE FOR THIS SERIES LIKE PLS- this is so fun and i hope you guys really like it bc i stepped out of my comfort zone a bit here. anyway, happy new year!! as a treat, have r and coryo getting way too messed up for their own good :)
this is mentioned in one of the parts of s2 (oh god i have no clue which one but trust me.) anyway, here's the night they were talking about.
series masterlist // playlist
"Hey, Coryo." You smile, sitting yourself down across from him at the lunch table.
"Y/N/N." He nods, hardly looking up from his food.
"So," You him, leaning forward with your elbows on either side of your plate. "Are you coming to Livia's big party this weekend?"
He shrugs, swallowing before looking up at you. "I don't know. Maybe. Feels a little... trivial."
"Ugh," You scoff, playfully rolling your eyes. "Of course it's trivial, Coriolanus. It's a birthday party for a seventeen year old that's probably going to have fireworks and a four tier wedding cake." You laugh. "But I have to go, so you should too."
He smiles at you a little, tilting his head with a raised eyebrow. "A wedding cake?"
"Probably. You saw the invitations." You chuckle. "We can walk together, and I'll see if I can sneak in some posca from our cellar. Please?" You plead.
"Won't your parents be driving you? I wouldn't want to impose." Coryo insists politely.
"Oh, god, no." You laugh. "They're allegedly busy. My father will be working, and my mother will be waiting for him to finish work. Can't tear her away from that. My theory is that they just don't want to go."
"Oh, I see." He replies. Your parents not attending social events wasn't uncommon. Their attention was notoriously hard to attract, and his parents had long since passed, so it was pretty standard for the two of you to either walk together or get your driver to take the two of you places alone.
"Yeah! I think we'll end up walking because my brother has tutoring and god forbid he walk anywhere, but that way there's no dreadful small talk with my family anyway."
"Fine." Coryo agrees. "Only because it's you. Also, I don't think talking to your parents is dreadful, Y/N/N."
"It is. Don't lie." You laugh, taking a bite out of your cookie and waving him off.
You hear the doorbell and run to answer it before anyone else can. "Mom! Coryo's here, I'm leaving now! Bye!"
"You're not going to invite him in?" Your mom asks, cutting you off in the foyer.
"We're already running late, sorry!" You insist, adjusting your hold on the two gift bags in your hands very carefully.
"Alright, well, have fun, dear. Extend our apologies to Livia's parents for us."
"Will do!" You nod, giving her a quick thumbs up before opening the door.
"What do you need a bag for?" She asks and you roll your eyes at your friend standing in front of you before turning to face her again.
"They have a pool, I might need to change." You groan.
"Oh, right." She seems satisfied with that answer. "Hello, Coriolanus, how are you doing tonight?" She asks, turning her attention to him.
"I'm well, Ma'am. Thank you. And you?" He smiles politely.
"We gotta go, Mom, bye!" You shut the door before she can answer.
As soon as you're out of sight from your house, you stop and dig through the tissue paper in one of the gift bags.
"Isn't that for Liv-" Coryo's question is cut off by you holding a bottle of a nondescript liquor out to him.
"This one is for us." You smile, taking another bottle out before shoving the folded-up gift bag into your backpack. "Cheers." You twist the cap off of yours, knocking it against the one he's awkwardly holding before taking a swig.
"Posca? Should we..." He clears his throat. "Should we really be drinking? I feel like we'll get in trouble."
"It's not Posca, it's better. Besides, no trouble if no one knows." You reassure him. "Also, I would bet money that we show up and Festus and Pup are already stumbling."
"You're the most terrible influence, Y/L/N." Coryo shakes his head with a smile on his face, opening the bottle anyway to try it.
"No!" You laugh. "This is good for us. It makes me more... digestible to these stuck-ups."
"Are you not included in that group?"
"Oh, Coriolanus Snow, we are at the top of the list."
The air in the expansive house is as hot and stuffy as it could possibly be. It reminded you so much of your own, but warmer, in a way. Maybe it was just the sheer volume of people inside and the buzz of alcohol in your system.
Livia's parents had been kind enough to leave the whole back garden and pool for you kids to enjoy, and to have your own space free from all of the adults who were also invited.
It was warm out for a May evening when you finally made it outside after saying your 'hello's to all your classmates' parents. Your own parents insisted that you spend a decent amount of time doing so, despite them not being able to make it. Coryo was known to do this as well, so you made your rounds together before thanking the Cardew's for the invitations and they showed you where all the other kids were outside.
Coryo already wanted to leave, and if you did as well, you were good at hiding it. He couldn't tell, blindly following you through the crowded house before making it outside.
"Party's here!" You call out as you step out onto the patio, allowing Coryo to close the door behind you.
"Y/N, you gorgeous girl, finally!" You're quickly greeted by Hilarius Heavensbee, and god, Coryo has never hated him more as the boy is wrapping his arms around you. His attempts at flirting with you are humiliating- Coriolanus doesn't know how he couldn't see that he was embarrassing himself.
"Hilary, you flatter me." You chuckle, gently patting his back with your free hand as you pull away.
"You know I try." He laughs, shrugging as he slides in between the two of you, draping an arm over your shoulder.
"Where's the birthday girl?" You ask, holding up the gift bag. "I need to ditch this."
"That's a good question..." Your classmate says, scanning the groups scattered across the lawn in search of Livia.
"I can carry that, if you'd like." Coryo offers, desperate to remind you of his presence. He wasn't going to let you ditch him- you were the only reason he even attended.
"Oh, no. I've got it. Thank you, though." You wave him off, looking up at the boy whose arm is sitting over your shoulder uncomfortably. "Hilary, could you grab Coryo and I some glasses, please?"
"Uh, yeah, sure." He says, stepping away. "What do you want?"
"Oh, just the glasses please. We brought our own drinks." You wink.
"Alright, but only if you share." He chuckles.
"I'm nothing if not generous." You joke, pushing him in the direction of where you see the beverage table is set up.
"His share is coming out of your bottle." Coryo says once the boy is out of earshot.
"Who do you think I am?" You ask, placing the giftbag on the ground and grabbing your bag off your shoulder, digging through the fabric you used to muffle the sounds of glass bottles rattling against one another. "I brought enough for the class."
"Of course you did." He chuckles, shaking his head slightly as you carefully pull another bottle out of the bag. "Be a doll, go dump this in the punch?" You smile up at him, holding it out to him expectantly.
"No! I'm not spiking anything." He laughs.
"Suit yourself, Boryo Coryo." You sigh with a teasing smile, placing your bags on the ground and walking over to the table at the side of the house, unscrewing the cap as you go.
"Where'd Y/N/N go?" Hilarius asks, returning to Coryo's side. He just nods over to you in response, not tearing his gaze away from your form as you dump the contents of the bottle into the bowl.
"Ah, gotcha." Your classmate laughs, holding an empty glass out for Coryo to take.
Coryo mutters a quiet 'thanks', refocusing himself on inspecting the glass in his hand for any dirt or fingerprints. It was spotless- of course it was.
"So, are you guys like... together? Or what's the deal?"
"Pardon?" Coryo is taken aback by the question, finally looking up at the boy.
"You and Y/N." He gestures toward you as you stir the bowl, simultaneously holding the mostly empty bottle up to your lips to let the last few drops fall onto your tongue. "You're always hovering around each other. Anything more to it? Everyone is wondering, but no one dares ask her."
"Oh. No." Coryo shakes his head, wishing his glass was full of whatever bitter alcohol you'd gifted him so he could down it all in one go.
"Sweet." Hilarius grins to himself, watching you intently.
Coryo raises an eyebrow at Hilarius, perplexed by his reaction. "What's so sweet about it?" he asks, trying to understand the amused grin on Hilarius' face.
Hilarius chuckles, leaning in slightly as if about to share a secret. "If you're not gonna go for her, I will."
Coryo's cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "Be my guest." He spits through gritted teeth. He should have drank more- perhaps it would have made Hilarius's juvenile pursuits more tolerable.
Hilarius nudges him playfully, "Life's too short for missed opportunities, if you ask me." He looks back at you again, not so subtly raking his eyes over your figure and how it fits in your favourite party dress. "And that would be a damn shame of a missed opportunity."
Coryo glances over at you, catching your eye for a brief moment before quickly looking away. He clears his throat awkwardly. "If you say so. I find she's quite... overwhelming, at times."
"That's the best thing about her." Hilarius muses. "Just imagine it... You know what I mean? I bet she's just crazy. In a really good way."
Coryo's brow furrows at the implication, both from offense and intrigue. He knew you were stunning- even a fool could have told him that, but it was to make a mockery of your name to only look at you and see merely the potential of what you could do with your body. To him, you were like morning rain in the springtime; a breath of fresh air when you didn't have to defend yourself at every turn, but Hilarius Heavensbee didn't know the first thing about walking in the rain.
"Don't be vile." Coryo scoffs, giving a slight shake of his head.
As you finish up with the concoction in the bowl, Coryo watches you with a newfound awareness, a subtle curiosity lingering behind his stare.What would it be like? It's not something he has ever considered, or even had the time or desire to look at anyone that way. Especially not you, you were so personal to him it was off limits even in his own head. He didn't understand the seemingly overnight shift a couple years ago now where all the boys in your class started looking at you and the other girls like pieces of meat, but suddenly watching you lick clean the spoon you used to stir the punch, he could see that maybe they had a point. What it would be like to hear you panting into his ear. Tired, loving, even, like he was the only man in the world who could make you feel so, so good. To have your deep red lipstick staining his skin, his shoulders, his neck, possibly lower. The idea of having to explain the stains on the inside of his shirt to Tigris when he pleads with her to somehow get them out has his heartbeat racing... Likely, though, it was just the liquor starting to settle in his veins, is what he decided as he adjusted the front of his dress pants.
Hilarius chuckles at Coryo's reaction, seemingly unfazed by his disapproval. "Relax, man. I'm just saying, life's too short not to appreciate the whole package. Y/N's got the brains, the looks, and that fiery spirit. It's like having your cake and eating it too."
Coryo arches an eyebrow, unconvinced. "I appreciate her for more than just appearances, you know."
Hilarius smirks knowingly. "Of course, of course. I'm just speaking from a purely hypothetical standpoint. No harm in imagining what could be."
Coryo shoots him a skeptical glance, but before he can respond, you join them, empty bottle in hand. "What's the topic?" you ask, catching the tail end of their conversation.
Hilarius grins, shrugging. "Oh, just discussing the finer things in life. You know, like cake."
You raise an eyebrow, sharing a confused glance with Coryo. "Cake? Really? Are we eight?"
Coryo rolls his eyes. "Apparently, it's a metaphor for appreciating the whole package."
You raise an eyebrow, but neither of them care to elaborate. "Well, I hope you both appreciate this 'whole package' of a potion I just whipped up. It should be interesting." You nod back toward the table, taking one of the glasses from your classmate to pour the remainder of your bottle out for the three of you.
By the time your unknowing classmates started to loosen up, you were sitting in a circle in a corner of the yard with a few others.
"I have a present for everyone." You state in a pause of conversation, and Coryo watches as you reach into the front of your dress, into your bra, and pull out a small paper bag.
"Uhm- what is that?" Clemensia asks, leaning back as if the bag would explode.
"Weed!" You laugh, looking around at the suddenly silent group of kids you're sitting with as you peel the bag open, the smell wafting through the air making some of your friends scrunch up their noses in disgust. "Oh my god- have none of you ever seen weed before?" You knew they hadn't, you hadn't really, either, but it was fun to tease them.
They all share confused and embarrassed glances. "Guys, come on..." You chuckle.
"I don't think we should..." Festus mumbles, clearing his throat. Of course he was going to be a baby about it.
"It's harmless! It's a plant, how much could something that grows out of the ground really hurt you?"
"Have you ever heard of poison ivy? Or that stuff poor people in the Districts burn to clean their houses or whatever?" Arachne spits, side-eying the bag on the ground.
"Sage isn't poisonous." Sejanus grumbles, hardly audible next to you.
"Okay, yes, but this is just weed. It's fun. Trust me." You plead, looking around at your friends, eyes locking on Coryo to your left.
"Okay, big shot, have you done it?" Clemensia asks, clearly already knowing the answer.
"Well... No, but there's a first time for everything, isn't there?" You smile. "Coryo, come on." You point him out in particular and he curses himself because he knows he can't say no to you.
"Okay... what do we do with it?" He questions quietly.
You squeal, the alcohol really showing as you lean into him, hugging him excitedly. "That's my boy! We smoke it."
"Alright, how?" Hilarius cuts in, forcing you to look at him instead of Coryo as you furrow your brow.
"Uh... that's a good question. I brought matches, though."
Sejanus sighs. "Anyone have an apple?" he speaks drawing everyone's attention, confused looks now focused on him.
"An apple?" Someone inquires about specifics, but you're busy making yourself comfortable closer to Coryo, leaning your head on his shoulder. When he realizes you're there to stay, he quickly reaches for the bottle at his side to take another swig. He's far too sober to have you all over him like this, he wonders if you could feel his heartbeat the way he could.
"To make a pipe." Sejanus explains, like it's obvious.
You smile, nodding at him. "You heard the boy- someone find him an apple!"
"And a pen." He adds.
"And a pen!"
It doesn't take long for the supplies to be acquired and passed over to him as you sit in a circle on the grass, watching Sejanus carefully as he uses the pen to dig into the core of the apple. You wanted to remember how, but the alcohol in your system was making it difficult to focus. You had to completely block out anything else happening around you.
"Y/N." You blink at your friend as he drops the pen into his lap, holding his free hand out to you.
"Huh?"
"The weed." He shakes his hand for you to pass him the bag.
"Oh! Right!" You giggle, reaching out for the bag and handing it to him as he pries it open.
"What are you doing?" Livia's voice comes from above you and you swivel your head, quickly getting dizzy from the movement.
"Y/N brought weed." Hilarius answers for him, smiling wide. "Isn't she just the coolest?"
Coryo stares at him, moving his arm tighter around your oblivious form so your classmates could better see his hold on you.
"I- um..." The birthday girl is caught off guard, and quickly looks over her shoulder up at the house. "Can you not do that here? Take it to the park across the street."
"Oh- Oh! Of course, yes." You nod, scrambling to get up, immediately pulling her into a hug. "I should have asked, I'm sorry." You slur, not noticing how tense she is under your hold.
"Are you... drunk?"
"Maybe." You giggle, holding a finger to your lips as you pull away. "Happy birthday, by the way! I brought a gift for you, 'is over there." You point over to the table you placed the bag under, swaying slightly.
"Yeah... I already opened it, remember?"
"Oh, shit. Right! Well, I hope you like it, Liv. You're just the best..." You hum, hugging her again as she gives a panicked look to your classmates behind you, who just laugh.
"Alright, let's get you out of here. We're gonna go to the park, okay Y/N/N?" Coryo says, prying you off of Livia and giving her an apologetic look.
"Right!" You giggle, turning so fast you almost lose your balance. "Who's coming?"
"I'll come." Hilarius nods, quickly getting up alongside Sejanus, but no one else moves or says a word.
"You guys are babies!" You laugh.
"And Y/N is a drunk at sixteen. We all have flaws." Persephone speaks up, smug smile on her face as she walks up behind Livia.
Immediately, Coryo is bracing you from swinging at her as your smile drops within an instant and you try and throw yourself at her, manicured hands open and grasping for her hair which you just miss as he holds you back.
"Yeah, that's enough." Coryo grunts, trying to hold you back without hurting you. "We should probably go."
"Coryo, let me go, she-" You hiss, trying to pry him off of you. You didn't know when he got so much bigger or stronger than you.
"Like I said, a drunk." Persephone chuckles, chewing every syllable as it comes out of her mouth.
"That's precious coming from a damn cannibal!" You spit, still trying to get through him as your classmate stares at you in shock. "Yeah- did you even know what your parents were feeding you? 'Cause I do! You probably liked it, you vulture!"
Hilarius holds back a laugh, coming up behind you and pulling you back, taking you from Coryo's grip and hoisting you up over his shoulder to carry you away as you hit at his back, screaming to be let down.
"That's our cue." Sejanus mutters, patting Coryo's shoulder and brushing past him to follow after you and your friend. "Thanks for having us, Livia!"
Coryo is fuming as he watches your classmate carry you away, but he still really can't pinpoint why. It must be the amount of alcohol- he's never drank this much before, but he has heard anger is a symptom. He's seen it in your father. Now, he's seen it in you; but it's not like that kind of outburst was abnormal coming from you. He's probably mad at Persephone for bringing that out of you. It's her fault, honestly.
He silently grabs your backpack and your bottles, half-hazardly throwing them in before swinging it over his shoulder and following after Sejanus without another word.
"So," Arachne states once he's out of earshot, taking a sip out of her glass as she remains on the ground. "Are we betting on Heavensbee or Snow to lose their virginity to her tonight?"
The group very quickly became a hung jury.
"Listen, I know the truth, okay, guys, hear me out." Clemensia speaks up over her arguing classmates. "Tonight, specifically, it'll be Hilarius." She holds her hand up to stop anyone who started arguing. "Coriolanus will probably wait until they're married or something, but trust me when I tell you that he will marry her."
"Marry her? We're sixteen, aren't you getting ahead of yourself, Clemmie?" Festus laughs, shaking his head.
"Obviously he doesn't know it yet, he's denser than over stirred cake batter, but he just follows her around like a lost puppy. That will never change, also, he's the only one that she's never had a problem with! And she'll fight with anyone!" Clemensia states, nodding with the finality of her statement. "That's all I have to say."
"Wait, you're telling me Coriolanus and Y/N aren't together?" Pup asks, just joining the conversation after sitting there confused for the last few minutes.
"My point exactly."
"Sejanus, you wizard, show us the ways." You giggle, plopping down on the ground where Hilarius carefully let you back onto your feet once you reached the park, previous argument completely forgotten.
"Okay." He laughs, sitting down next to you. "There's three holes in the apple. You hold it on the side like this, then you put the weed on the very top hole..." He explains as he's doing it, and you watch intently. "Then you hold the match up until it's burning, and you'll put your thumb over this hole here once you inhale it through the last one..." His voice trails off as he holds the apple up to your lips, doing all the work but letting you just breathe in the smoke.
You try, eyes closed as the three boys watch you until you pull away quickly to cough it all out as the smoke burned into your throat. "Oh my god..." You laugh, eyes watering as you continue to cough. "Your turn."
"You okay?" Hilarius asks with a slight chuckle, rubbing gentle circles into your back.
"Fine." You nod, quickly wiping your eyes.
"Here." Sejanus holds the apple out to the boy next to you. He takes it, and Coryo feels like he can finally breathe now that Hilarius doesn't have his hands on you.
"Where'd you learn this?" He asks Sejanus, ignoring your classmate following the same routine you did.
"Guess." Sejanus answers, looking over at him. "I don't smoke, but lots of my friends parents did. Back in Two."
"Right." The fact that they smoked around children didn't shock Coryo. Not one bit.
"Coryo, loosen up, man, you look like you're sitting with a stick up your ass." Hilarius offers it to him now, and he looks over at you. As if somehow you would tell him what to say.
"Try it!" You urge him on, shifting over so you're kneeling in front of him, taking the apple from Hilarius for him. "I'll light for you."
"Uh, okay, yeah." He swallows thickly, subconsciously leaning back a little bit at your closer proximity.
He takes the fruit from your hand, watching as your strike up a new match. "Tell me when you're ready..." You hum, moving even closer as he lifts the apple to his lips.
"Ready." He says quietly, and before you put the flames to the flowers, you're reaching up with your other hand to push his hair out of his face and hold it back for him so it doesn't somehow light.
He doesn't last long, looking into your eyes and trying to inhale the thick, abrasive smoke; it's only a second before he's pulling back quickly, coughing his lungs out as the other two boys laugh at him.
"It takes some getting used to, that's okay..." You smile, taking another hit while the flower was still burning.
You exhale, and it's smoother this time. "I did it!" You grin, choking only slightly over your words.
"Good job, Y/N/N." Sejanus laughs.
"You okay?" You ask Coryo and he nods, recovering from the coughing fit now as the weed really starts to take affect in your system.
You feel like your world is swaying as you kneel in front of him. "Did it work? Can you feel it?" You ask, and he shakes his head.
"It's the second hit." You determine, feeling bold as you straddle yourself over his lap. "I've got an idea. Do you trust me?" You whisper and he nods quickly, leaning back on his palms. Once again, not nearly drunk enough for this.
"Yeah, you know what, I've gotta get back. My parents are heading out pretty quick, here..." Hilarius makes an excuse, but you can hardly even hear him now. "Sejanus, you coming?"
Clearly getting the message he nods, standing up and dusting off his pants. "Have fun, you two. Get home safe."
"Bye!" You giggle, waving to them with your free hand.
The silence that surrounds you is deafening, particularly for poor Coryo, who is fighting for his life to not move. Not that he doesn't want you this close, apparently he does; if his body and his mind racing with thoughts are any indicator, the biggest problem is that he wants to touch you. He knows he shouldn't.
"I've got an idea." You say again, attention returned to him. "But you have to trust me."
"I trust you." He mumbles with a slight nod.
"Good." You smile, taking yet another pull from the apple, holding it carefully the way Sejanus told you to.
You painfully hold your breath, feeling the drug cloud your mind as you put it down gently on the ground next to you. Coryo starts to panic as you lean in closer, closer than you've ever been to him before, and god, did he hate and love where this was going.
You stop, lips brushing against his as you let the smoke out of your lungs, and all he has to do is breathe. Why is that suddenly so hard? He manages, somehow, feeling the smoke from your lungs flood into his own.
Once you move back, settling yourself on his lap and tilting your head at him, he turns to breathe it all out away from you. He doesn't know if he can look back.
You smile, settling your arms around his neck and subconsciously playing with the ends of his hair. "How does it feel?"
"Good." He says quietly, finally gaining the courage to look up at you.
"Good?" You hum with a slight nod, letting yourself get closer to him again as he rests a hand on your waist.
"Really good." He confirms, looking into your eyes; glazed over from the substances you so carelessly consume. "Y/N/N?"
"Yes, my dear Coryo?" You answer, already getting giggly.
He doesn't say anything more.
Fuck it.
With his free hand he's grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you closer, crashing his lips against yours.
"Y/N, hey." Coryo greets you, catching up to you just as you get to the front doors of the academy. He hasn't seen you since Saturday night- since he walked you home after you spent nearly an hour kissing him absolutely senseless at the park across from Livia's home. He couldn't stop thinking about it.
"Coryo, hi." You smile, textbooks tucked into your arms as you join him walking into the front doors of the academy on Monday morning. "How are you feeling?"
"Me? Fine." He shrugs, failing to mention the crippling hangover he was nursing for all of the day prior.
"What?" You laugh, sighing with fake disappointment. "That's not fair. I was dying yesterday. Literally, when I woke up I thought I had died and gone to hell. I don't even remember how I got home."
"You don't?" He chuckles nervously.
"No. I don't remember a thing." You laugh. "That's how you know it was a good night, so I've heard."
"Really? Nothing at all?" He asks, nervousness and disappointment flashing behind his eyes.
"Well, I remember spiking the punch." You laugh. "Why, did I do something bad?" Your laugh is replaced with anxiety as your voice lowers so only he can hear, catching the look in his eye.
Coryo clears his throat, avoiding your gaze as he shakes his head. "No, well... You did call Persephone a cannibal. Tried to fight her."
"Oh, well, that's standard." You shrug. "No big deal, then."
"Yeah. No big deal."
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#tbosas#coriolanus snow#hunger games#tbosas fic#tbosas x reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#thg#thg fanfic#thg series#thg fanfiction#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus fanfiction#coryo x reader#coryo snow#snow lands on top
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can you post newt x female reader smut? i had a look at your wattpad and noticed that you already had some but it's in the old style (i'm assuming it's your old style) and i really like how you write now (the stuff you post on here). obv only if you're comfortable with it, btw i love your work!
First of all, I'm glad you like my stuff! Secondly, I sure can! I've got some brand new things I cooked up a while back, and I would be delighted to share the love xxx
Just like that
Series masterlist, masterpost
Newt x fem!Reader
Maze Runner (2009 novel - James Dashner, 2014 film - Wes Ball)
Word count: 2318
Summary: shameless Newt smut. Enjoy.
Content: smut. Porn with like the tiniest hint of a plot. Friends with benefits type beat. Making out, blowjobs, hickeys, light praise kink (kind of), light dirty talk, masturbation (kind of), hair pulling (reader is the puller), cowgirl position (sort of??? Idk??), al fresco lol
Notes: I’m so sorry I have no idea how to tag this stuff. Literally what’s in “content” is in it, there might be stuff that I forgot so I apologise but it’s basically just what you’d expect from smut (I’m pretty basic)
You were kissing Newt. Or maybe Newt was kissing you, since he’d started the whole thing when he had put down the now empty cup of hot tea the two of you had been sharing, sheltered behind the partially rotted corpse of a massive tree, and taken your chin between his strong fingers, turned you to face him, then very deliberately pressed his lips against your own. You’d just smiled and let him, giving as good as you got. He still tasted like the drink, the sweetness of the honey you’d insisted on adding coating his mouth. And so it was that you came to be locked in a soft embrace now, with your movements lazy and relaxed as you took your sweet time exploring each other.
It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence; you liked Newt and he liked you, and both knew it. It was nice to have a sort of outlet every now and then, someone who you didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than yourself around, and who didn’t pretend around you. And that’s what Newt was, and what he had been for some time, ever since a few months ago when the two of you had found yourself drunkenly making out behind the homestead while the other Gladers enjoyed a bonfire.
Now, Newt’s hand had found its way to your breast, tracing circles over the material of your shirt and making your skin prickle. You traced a line along his jaw, your finger trailing down his neck to rest on his shoulder. You shifted yourself slightly, angling your body further towards him to ease the suggestion of a stiffness threatening to grow in your neck if you kept up your current position much longer. Newt’s mouth was still soft on yours, his tongue stroking your own lazily, but something about him was saying that he wanted more – or would soon.
“Do you want me to suck you off?” you asked, breaking the kiss. The two of you had decided a while back that being open and up front was the way to go – “candid,” Newt had stated solemnly, and you’d agreed.
He seemed to consider for a moment, then glanced around to check for anyone in the immediate vicinity. The fallen tree trunk you were sitting against wasn’t all that deep into the deadheads, and while it was huge and had served as an excellent shelter numerous times before, it never hurt to be careful. It wasn’t that either of you were ashamed of your standing with the other – your “situationship” you jokingly called it – it was just that it would be awkward to get caught.
Now, Newt smiled at you and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, placing another gentle kiss on your lips.
You returned the smile, slipping your hand under the waistband of his pants, massaging his cock gently. You felt him grow hard, and when you were satisfied, you deftly unzipped his pants. You smiled again, spitting into your palm and resuming your light ministrations.
Newt raised his eyebrows, clearing his throat. “Love, that’s wonderful, but quit teasing.”
“Magic word?” you grinned.
Your friend sighed, rolling his eyes. “Please,” he huffed.
You nodded, licking your lips before gently kissing the tip of his dick and lowering your mouth over the head. Newt gave a tiny moan – well, something between a sigh and a moan – and moved his hand to your hair, his fingers tracing patterns gently over your scalp. You really liked giving blowjobs to Newt; he was always so gentle and considerate, and it never even felt like you were “giving” him anything. Sure, his dick was in your mouth, but it was more like something you were doing with him, something nice and fun and extremely gratifying. Especially when he talked to you, which he was doing now.
“That’s it love,” he murmured as you swirled your tongue around him, your hands working what wasn’t already in your mouth. “God, you’re good at this.”
The praise lit a warm glow inside you, and you sank your head lower. Newt’s breath caught in his throat as you hollowed your cheeks, the tip of his dick now almost touching the back of your throat with every bob of your head, your hand still taking care of the base. It was as slow and laid back as your kisses had been just minutes before, and you loved every second.
You continued like that, basking in Newt’s grunts of “yes” and “fuck” and the occasional “God, (Y/N)” before his fingers slid from your hair to under your chin, prompting you to stop. You released him with a wet sort of “pop” sound, licking your lips delicately while still holding his throbbing cock in one hand. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright as he looked at you. Your own face was warm, matching the not entirely unpleasant heat you’d felt building between your legs.
“Take your pants off and come here.” He patted his lap, kicking his own pants further down his legs.
You grinned. “Is that an order or an invitation?”
“An invitation, since you never do anything I order.”
“It’s cause you never say please,” you deadpanned as you shuffled out of your pants, discarding them and your underwear to one side. You swung a leg over Newt’s hips, straddling him, and placed your hands either side of his face. “How’s this?”
“Yeah, not bad,” he nodded, his own hands easing your shirt upwards. You let him, lifting your arms obediently as he slipped the piece of fabric over your head and sent it the way of your pants. He kissed along the line of your bra, then, watching your face carefully, reached around and undid the clasp. He caressed your breasts softly, sweetly, and slowly. That really did seem to be the theme of the day.
“Hey,” you said after a moment when he made no move to take his own shirt off, your hand coming to rest over his. “How come I’m naked and you’re not?”
He shrugged, twisting his hand to entwine his fingers with yours.
“Hardly seems fair,” you breathed, sliding your hips over his.
Newt’s breath caught in his throat once more, and he rolled his eyes at you. “If you insist.”
“I certainly do.” You pushed his shirt up, pulling it deftly over his head and tossing it to the side before laying your palms against his warm skin. You knew there were things Newt liked more than his own body, but you’d never really understood why. Sure, he was skinnier than some of the other boys, and his leg was a continuous chip on his shoulder, but you thought he was hotter than anyone you could name off the top of your head and you made sure he was aware of the fact.
In fact, the first time he’d expressed anything resembling insecurity, you’d been watching him get dressed after a night well spent, idly pondering how perfectly formed he was, how smooth and seamless every movement was even with the addition of his limp. You’d been so caught up in watching the dance of his lithe muscles under his skin that you hadn’t even noticed the apprehensive look on his face as he turned away from you.
“Can you… not watch me?” he’d asked hesitantly as he pulled on his shirt.
“Huh?” you’d frowned, sitting up.
“You were staring, can you not do it?”
“Oh.” You’d felt your face colour and had looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry.”
“‘Sfine,” he’d said.
You’d asked why, hesitantly and as politely as you could. You just couldn’t work out why this boy, who was totally comfortable making you plead his name as your thighs squeezed around his shoulders and your fingers pulled his hair enough to make him moan (which was how you’d found out he liked his hair being pulled, but that was a story for another time), couldn’t deal with you watching him get dressed.
He’d shrugged, then turned around and spoken directly to the wall beside your head. “I don’t really like how I look.”
You were baffled to say the least, and had very nearly burst out laughing. “But you’re so…” you’d said instead, stumbling for the right words. “You’re so hot,” you’d blurted at last.
Newt had shrugged again, bending to lace up his boots. “Maybe to you.”
After that, you’d taken every opportunity – ones that weren’t too obvious, of course – to subtly express just how attractive you thought he was. From outright whispers of “fuck, you’re hot” mid tryst to casually proclaiming him gorgeous in the middle of a conversation, you really did take any chance that presented itself. And now was no different.
“Damn,” you smiled, bending to place a kiss on his collar bone. “You’re fucking sexy, you know that?”
“Look who’s talking,” he scoffed, but you caught the tiny upward twitch of his mouth. He brought your hand to his face, gently kissing your knuckles. You let a sigh escape you, rocking your hips over his once more. He was hot against you and the sun, now beginning to sink below the walls, caught in his hair, lighting it up in gold like some kind of halo. You’d hardly have been surprised if he sprouted wings right then and there.
“Quit teasing, (Y/N),” he half laughed, half growled. Then added “please” almost as an afterthought.
“Since you asked so nicely,” you smiled, the hand that wasn’t being held by him sliding down over his chest, his stomach, finally coming to rest on his dick once more. You carefully lined him up, and at his nod, sank gently onto his length.
You didn’t move right away, shifting your hands to the log either side of Newt’s head to steady yourself as you let yourself adjust. You rocked experimentally, earning a soft sigh and whispered “yes” from the boy under you.
“Just like that,” he murmured as you moved again. Another thing about Newt that you’d learnt was that he liked when you rode him like this, liked guiding your hips over his while showering you with kisses – and the odd hickey. He was doing it now, his hands gentle yet firm where they slid over the skin of your thighs and hips and waist, his mouth warm and silken where it roamed your chest and neck.
“Fuck, Newt,” you breathed, letting your fingers tangle in his hair. You didn’t pull it as such, just hinted at it. Still, Newt’s breath hissed between his teeth and he looked up at you from a particularly dark hickey at the curve where your neck met your shoulder, his eyes dark. You gave his hair the gentlest tug, tipping his head back and kissing his lips, his jaw, and down his throat.
Newt’s eyes were closed now, his breath shallow as you ran one hand down over his front, fingers skimming the subtle planes of muscle as a leaf skims the surface of a puddle. You kissed him again, slowly, your mouths melding perfectly together.
“Touch yourself,” he murmured against your lips. “I want you to cum.”
“I wanna make you cum,” you replied. It was true, you loved nothing more than watching Newt unravel because of you and only you, even if it was both of you doing the work.
He shrugged. “And I want you to get yourself off riding my dick, I want to watch you.”
“Ok.” You kissed him again, then slid the hand that wasn’t still tangled his hair down your own body to the heat between your legs. You bit your lip as your fingertips grazed your clit, stifling a moan.
“Don’t keep quiet,” Newt urged. “I wanna hear you too.”
God, this boy, you thought as you let yourself whisper a curse. Did he have any idea what he was doing to you? He probably did, actually, you reflected as your fingers rubbed tiny circles over your clit. You leant forwards to get a better angle, your chest brushing against Newt’s and your face inches from his own. He was watching you, his attention fixed only on you. You felt yourself twitch and your muscles began to tense as you found the perfect spot, the moans you let escape growing in frequency and volume.
“Move me,” you choked as you felt yourself teetering on the brink of your climax, every fibre of your being pulled taught.
Newt nodded, rocking your hips over his as your fingers continued their motion and you hung, suspended for a second before everything came crashing in on you.
“Fuck, Newt, oh my god,” you groaned as the orgasm flooded over you. You were dimly aware of him moaning your name and realised that your hand had tightened in his hair and that he was still moving you. “Keep going,” you sighed, cupping his face with one hand while the other continued to card through his hair, pulling occasionally.
“Mm, (Y/N) oh–” he broke off and you gave the handful of hair you had a firm pull, now taking over your own movements as he released inside you, bliss flooding his face.
You continued to slide your hips over his until your legs had ceased to shake and a little of the haziness had gone from Newt’s face, settling comfortably onto his lap. Wordlessly, you placed a soft kiss on his forehead, brushing the hair from his face and tracing patterns over his cheeks and neck, all the way down to his chest. He smiled at you, bending to sooth the dark marks he’d left on your skin with kisses of his own, holding you close against him.
“I love this,” he said at last.
You tilted your head to the side, nonplussed. “Having sex with me?”
He considered, nodded, then, “being with you.”
“I love being with you too,” you whispered as you kissed him again.
#Maze Runner#the maze runner#newt maze runner#tmr#tmr fanfiction#tmr fic#newt#newt x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#self insert fanfiction#maze runner fanfiction#reader insert#fem!reader#smut#maze runner smut
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March 2024 documentation and transition journal
Just got my levels results back, meaning that the doc is fully updated for March:
This is possibly one of the most exciting and interesting months of HRT since starting, because I've experimented around a lot with injection doses, so let's talk about that! I'm also slapping a couple of old pics in here for reference, so I'll slap some selfie tags on this.
So, lots of interesting HRT stuff. At my last levels check, I was on 4mg injectable EV a week. And… my E actually went down, even though that’s an effectively higher dose than my previous regimen (6mg sublingual/day). Because of this, I talked with my provider, and essentially she told me to fuck around. I probably was way looser with it than she wanted me to be, but she told me to go to 8mg/week maximum, and try and settle on 6mg/week minimum. So….. here’s what I did.
1 week of 8mg.
2 weeks at 7mg.
2 weeks 6mg, during which my levels were checked at mid.
I… can’t really advocate for this. Basically, my logic was that I wanted to see what it felt like to max things out, but have my actual levels check reflect what I’m like at 6mg to know if increasing or maximizing the dose beyond that is necessary at all. Ultimately, I’ve concluded that 8mg feels too high- I start getting a bit of headache and nausea at peak. 7mg feels very comfortable. 6mg, I felt fucking miserable at trough. When I was on 4mg/week, I used a couple of sublingual pills to try and get through that, but I tried to see if I could stop doing that. It went okay for the higher doses, but on 6mg… ugh. Felt like complete shit. I’ll def be using a couple this week to get through that, probably just 4-6mg sublingual on wed/thurs to make sure I’m feeling okay.
Oh. Also. I ditched Spironolactone, against the advice of my provider.
I was getting really, REALLY irritated by the diuretic effects, so I quit it when I tried to 8mg dose just to see what would happen. I figured that 8mg would be more than enough to suppress T on its own (likely true), and so I thought it would be the best time to try that. And… when I stopped spiro, a depressive haze that had been in my head lifted very quickly. I thought it was just depression based on a rough past couple of months, and that’s probably true, but it also felt physical. The diuretic effects have also stopped, and I genuinely can’t imagine going back on spiro.
I’ve heard a lot of theoretical stuff about spiro potentially being able to inhibit growth and development. It's possibly a growth hormone inhibitor, but should be a more potent antiandrogen than anyone else. It’s…. Really hard to say whether spiro actually inhibits growth. As with a lot of transfemme physical developments, there’s never been a comprehensive, conclusive study on it, which is why its relegated to miscellaneous anecdotes that everyone will swear one way or the other on. I’ll have some opinions on this later.
So what improvement to my levels did I get out of all of this?
Well…. Good, but nothing radical. My midcycle estrogen is 159 pg/mL, which is about my target for trough. It’s a good step up from the 4mg dose, but I’m probably going to increase to 7mg/week- that felt fine to me, and I’m pretty confident that that’ll be the dose that nails it. I’m pretty deadset on going forward with that, I would just need a levels check to verify we’re all good there. (Side note, I’m a bit frustrated that my body literally seems allergic to just… stuff. Idk if I have an overactive liver or what, but my T crashed super easily, adderall consistently lasts shorter than it should, and my E is really struggling to go up.)
And did this result in any physical improvement?
I actually think that this last month has been the single fastest month of physical development I’ve ever had. Here’s some things I’ve noticed:
My breasts have become much larger and more developed in relation to my chest, with a much better shape. Comparison pictures to even just the end of January show a wild difference (sorry, not posting that publicly). To be fair, though, I’m still pretty clearly in tanner 2, and I maybe want to wait for just a bit more development before I start progesterone.
Waist measurement is still going down, and hip measurement is still holding steady. This means that, in effect, my hips are getting wider.
And this is one of the most exciting ones- my upper body seems like its getting smaller. I’m floored by this. My underbust is less, my chest looks noticeably less barrel-y, and my ribcage kind of “flows” into my waist better. I wrote a bit about this on reddit just now, but I think I know what’s happening here. Not only is fat burning from the sides of my chest as it builds on the front of my chest, I actually think my costal cartilage might be getting “tighter”, effectively pulling my ribs a bit closer in to my sternum
I have…. No way to confirm the hunches of that last one, other than the images I can show. So for educational purposes (and y’know. Making the funny women in my phone type funny syllables) Here’s a quick timeline where I think you can see the “barrellness” of my chest decreasing:
From left to right, we have September (0-1mo), December (3-4mo), March (6-7mo)
Don't worry, my shoulders are just as wide and athletic dyke-y.
Am I delusional? Is this anything? Maybe. Pictures are hard to make consistent with changes this small. But I do feel like its noticeable, and it seems like women’s cut shirts and tanks have fit me in a way that’s a lot more consistent with a cis woman’s body. Again, there’s also nsfw images, and I think they show a lot of progress, and I think I can pretty definitively say that this has been the single month with the most physical changes since, well, my first month back in September.
Why did this happen? Well, I’m working with a sample size of one here, and multiple variables have changed at the same time. There’s really three things that could be happening: increased injection dosage, ditching spiro, or the general come and go of physical changes. It’s impossible to completely know what’s going on because of this, unfortunately- I’d need way more data. That said…. This is the first new “wave” of development I’ve had since I started, and my actual blood levels didn’t increase that much. I really, really don’t want to conclude anything, but I’m kinda thinking that spiro had something to do with it. It has broad effects on physiology which aren’t entirely characterized, that could easily theoretically be inhibiting generic growth and development. That said, I think starting with a strong antiandrogen is basically necessary for HRT. It’s extremely difficult to get E levels up without robustly inhibiting T first. Obviously don’t take this as medical advice, or even a scientific opinion. This is nothing more than a hunch.
Idk. I’m happy. I feel like I finally am starting to break through the progress stall I’ve been growing increasingly frustrated with. And I think getting the proper injection dose actually worked to break through it. I’m feeling a lot better with my transition in general too. I won’t elaborate much here, but I’ve been coming out to a lot more people, and its been tentatively going about as well as I could ask. We’ll see what the future holds, but I’m excited about it.
#trans journal#hrt#transfemme hrt#mtf hrt#trans selfie#trans#transgender#trans timeline#trans progress#transition#transitioning#trans woman#trans female
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TRANS MASC COVE TRANS MASC COVE (sfw +nsfw hcs pls,, id love your thoughts)
NO BC NOW YOU'VE PUT THOUGHTS IN MY HEAD N I NEED HIM DESPERATELY
eta while im in the middle of writing: after this i... i can no longer hold onto my fem!cove thoughts. n i am eating up trans!cove like a starving ANIMAL.
tags : SFW + NSFW, transmasc (ftm) cove, switch cove/reader, some mentions of body/gender dysmorphia, im sure theres 1 transphobe walking around sunset bird so the smallest mention of that clown
SFW
i've been seeing a lotta top surgery scar tattoos on my twt timeline lately, and pls some of them i need for myself bc they're so!!!! pretty!!!!
so i can definitely see him getting tattoos there
not because he wants to cover em up, i just think he sees so many flash sheets over time that he's SOLD
mmm i wanna say that fem/afab!cove would have small boobs
or B cups at most
either way, i almost wanna say that his boobs before surgery wouldn't bother him as much unless someone was sexualizing him or he was exercising n his boobs were bouncing too much or smth like that
even then its usually complaints of, "ugh, this bra isn't supportive..." or something like that
ofc he still has his moments
i also think he only binds sometimes, rarely
doesn't do it often since it's often hot outside, or especially if he's sporty, its uncomfortable
(also looked it up just to be sure) but since he's always on the beach its inconvenient/unnecessary to wear if he can't wear it in the water
but like i said i think he'd be pretty flat/small anyway, so i think he's okay
mm definitely doesn't give up having long hair, or wearing the occasional dress/skirt ofc
but will correct one of the old sunset bird residents if they try and say "see honey, it was a phase, you're wearing a dress today!"
also idk abt yall, n this is more of a general thought, but i feel like step 2 cove's impulse control is. deathly low.
so one day, he has long/long-ish hair
and the next he has a mullet, wolf cut, or buzz cut.
he's so chaotic to me pls
now i've had fem!cove on my mind for weekssss now
so i'm not just saying this
but cove is still buff
thick muscly thighs, NICE ARMS. REALLY NICE ARMS
mm so i feel like he looks pretty androgynous or masc anyway
now im projecting here.
but cove has irregular periods, n they're pretty heavy most the time
or lasts awhile (ok im done projecting. sorry cove</3)
also think he deals with cramps (IM SORRY COVE)
i think his period is the biggest trigger of his body/gender dysmorphia too
although i think fem!cove would hate her period anyway altho tbf who doesnt
he'd definitely appreciate some comfort!!!
bring him another heating pad, your comfiest hoodie or blanket and snacks
he's very happy for the thoughtfulness and the company
step 2 cove would definitely be moved by such thoughtfulness... he's in tears
so after the first time it's a trend to spend time together in his bed, watching movies or something while he's cuddled into your side or next to you in a cove-rrito, all sleepy n comfy...
NSFW
had to stop writing the SFW to write this bc i had a thought
cove laid out all pretty... his chest rising and falling and he's all teary eyed as you're between his legs, eating his cunt until he's seeing stars.
pls his cunt with be so sensitive, and he'd be so pretty to fuck
would shake so much too
his thighs quivering so bad he clamps around your hand
you'd have to hold his legs up so he doesn't nearly flatten your head between his thick thighs
"y/n!" cove cries, his hands tangled in your hair and he's trying so hard not to squish your head between his thighs, but your tongue is flat against his sensitive clit, sucking and bullying the poor button while your fingers make a loud, sloppy mess of his hole.
he whines, hips shaking in your hands.
you tighten your grip on his waist, your fingers digging into the flesh, grumbling irritably around his clit but cove just cries out a loud moan and slurred word, torn between your name, a cuss word, and a cry for god.
you pull of his clit, your fingers still curling against that spongy spot inside his sloppy walls. "stay still, you're gonna crush my head..." you start to kiss his thighs, small kisses turning into you sucking deep hickeys into his tan skin, and that turning into biting.
cove gasps for air, his eyes fluttering closed as he squirms.
"fuck, y/n, please..." he mumbles, tugging at the bedsheets.
you stop the assault on his thighs, leaning up on your elbows so you can give cove a kiss, your lips lazily moving together...
anyway... horny aside for a moment<333
mm i could see cove not getting or really wanting bottom surgery
i think trans cove would be pretty comfortable with his body's appearance overall
and he's probably read into it a lot since it's not like he hasn't thought about it, i could just see him probably deciding its not something he wants
ARGGHH HE'D BE A DEMON WITH THE STRAP THOUGH
ahh. cove holding you down or folding your legs against your chest while he slams his hips against yours...
his strap hitting your poor prostate / cervix, he'd coo about how cute your whines are and that you're making him leak
would definitely upset he can't fill you up w cum
especially if you wanna get pregnant, rambles about how much he wishes he could fill you up with his cum again and again and again...
arghhh fuck imma lose my MIND
definitely takes advantage of those squirting dildos
can at least admire how you look oozing milky lube
omfg definitely wakes up all excited to tell you if he dreamed about it too...
has an array of straps
we already know he has a tentacle dildo or two deep in his closet...
yeah tries them out on you
"don't get tired yet, i have one more.. and it has a knot!!!"
he just likes to experiment on you a little~~ bit <333
ohh please tell him he looks handsome/sexy while you're giving him head
he'll die.
FUCK HE'D GO CRAZY IF YOU RIDE HIM TOO I KNOW IT
yeah he's still the same cute, secretly horny, big crybaby pookie <3333 i love him pls
#olba#our life: beginnings & always#cove holden x reader#cove holden#smut#cove x reader#cove x mc#cove our life#cove holden smut#cove holden x mc
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NOW INTRODUCING.... THE CRITTERS !!!
Technically Corvid is still a part of an au, i really like everyone's designs so i guess its just like a weird little au that are also kinda ocs?? Idk. Im still tagging it as the animatronicfication au and using the other ccs names but im completely separating wilbur from Corvid.
The one that probably changed the most is simp LMAO i just went back to his old design that was inspired by Luna (@starrixle's transfem simpbur turned oc) and Spencer is such a fitting name in my mind i literally can not imagine him with a different name *bwomp*
Also I'm working on refs for the other characters associated with the respective critters! I wanna finish them all and dump them into one post and I'll link it here when I'm done.
ANYWAY INFODUMP TIME
Before we go into individual characters i want to say that this is absolutely Minecraft. Like. The world is built off of Minecraft lore yk !!!! The overworld will still be called the overworld but it's basically just earth, with more magic and humanoid species! Along with supernatural creatures and cryptids n stuff :D also with more advanced tech considering Corvid exists pFF
Spencer for the most part kinda was like he is in canon or whatever. She used to lean more towards incel ideology because she was REALLY insecure and uncomfortable with herself for the longest time. Despite that, Spencer and Adrianne (egirl) started dating when they were 17, his unhealthy obsession with her was only fueled by her unhealthy attachment to him. They needed each other and it wasn't good for either of them. Spencer had developed horrible separation anxiety which only made things worse. Over time Adrianne became suffocated by his constant neediness, overwhelming insecurity, short temper and lack of contribution to household chores. It pained her to leave, but things needed to change. It wasn't until the breakup that Spencer met Shepard, who was his first irl friend in a long time. They met when they were around 22/23, at first Spencer just used Shepard as a distraction from Adrianne, especially since he was surprised that they wanted to even be his friend in the first place. But after a while he genuinely started to enjoy their company, plus they offered him really good advice and helped him through a gender/sexuality crisis. Eventually they became partners! Maybe not romantically, as they're both aromantic, but life partners nonetheless.
OH and i did make Spencer white/Salvadoran. Her mom is the first generation from immigrant parents while her dad is British; And her dad's younger brother is Adam's dad! He's also an ex-christian, he left due to religious trauma and moved to America to escape his family hA
Spencer's also a no sabo kid LMAO (he knows some words/phrases but other than that he cant speak Spanish to save his life)
ALSO ALSO. Oh my god i could talk about Spence all day LMAO but i made him a werewolf !!!! Hes SOO jealous of Adam because she wanted the cat genes but instead got bitten and turned into a werewolf as a teenager. She's done a pretty good job at hiding it from her family so Shepard's the only one who knows.
I already dumped everything about Adam into that other post, so I don't really have much else to add. HOWEVER !! Him and Spence are cousins now :3 Adam doesn't get to meet Spencer in person until he moves to America with Charlie & co, but he does follow her socials with his secret accounts that his parents don't know about. The only reason they know they're cousins is because Spencer's dad told her so and she reached out! Much to the dismay of Adam's parents but they've secretly kept in touch online.
Keith's pretty much stayed the same apart from a slight design revamp. Although I've made him a little older since originally i made him look young. But then I decided hes a dad so i started drawing him older for the asks pFF he also has a hooked nose now! In case it's not obvious. Keith got married to Jean VERY young, they were maybe 17/18 in human years. It was an arranged marriage and their only goal was to have an heir to the throne. Well they did, they had two kids, the eldest being a boy named Lune and the youngest being a girl named Sunny, who's the would be heir. Until Jean took both the kids and left. It was completely unprompted and left everyone in the kingdom confused, especially Keith. Sure, they had a loveless marriage and maybe he was insufferable at times, but he wanted to make it work if not for the kids then for the kingdom! But its been almost a year since she left, he's lost hope in ever finding her. Keith desperately wants his kids back, not because Sunny is the rightful heir— though that is part of it—but he loves them both dearly. He misses them the most.
Wilfred has pretty much stayed the same as well! I did give him a grey tshirt and darker hair to further distance his design from wilbur though. Hes just as unhinged and immoral as he used to be !!!! Nothing has changed aside from appearance actually.
Tobi also pretty much stayed the same except for its now got an orange jumper and lighter brown hair pFF although i do now have a story for him! Tobi was found by Alejandro in a storage auction, he managed to sell a lot of pretty valuable things from there but Tobi stood out, obviously, so he kept it. Alejandro is a travel vlogger and lives in an RV with his friends: Tomas, Philip and Charles. His friends just call him Alex. Anyway, they go from town to town trying local food, visiting tourists traps and vlogging the journey! While doing that they also try to find out how to get Tobi's memories back and possibly turn him human again, if they even can. So far they haven't had much luck but maybe one day...
Corvid was created as the backup singer and lead guitarist of the first all animatronic band! Brought to you by Beloved Entertainment! The other members include lead singer Ranboo Beloved, keytarist Tommy Raccoon, and bassist James Tomcat. Located in Ranboo's Mega Pizzaplex, the only location in the world (so far). Corvid adopts a showman personality while on stage, hes charismatic and such a heartthrob, very popular with the ladies. Off stage he's very calm and soft spoken, he's rather shy but still manages to be a flirt and a tease. Lightly poking fun at his bandmates, coworkers and even guests at times. He's definitely a fan favorite for a reason!
This was so fun to write and i cant wait to share more !!!! Stay tuned !!!!!!
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Green eyes VS green badge | R. A. B.
Second chapter of "One way ticket" | Ch. 1
pair> regulus black x lestrange! reader | > mentions of james potter x reader | > james potter x lily evans
summary> the hate between y/n and regulus is hidden from anyone else, but maybe his actions combined with a heartbreak aren't the best outcome for y/n
word count> 2.7k
warnings> regulus being a jerk, again? reader being kind of a teacher's pet? mentions of discrimination based on blood purity; nothing else, in my opinion, feel free to tell me if i should add anything!
a/n> THIS WAS WRITTEN IN ONE GO, HOLY SHIT. I DID NOT PROOFREAD IT. thank u guys for all the support showed here<3 its crazy, honestly. the tag list is open for this series, so feel free to send me an ask or a comment of you want to be added! also, i have a thought and idk, i'd make this idea more detailed but on wattpad, and keep it a little shorter here, what do you think?
There were four simple rules that Y/N needed to follow since she could talk and understand what she was being told.
The first one was that she could never, ever in her whole life disobey her father – he was the only one who cared for her, for her future, for her dignity and he was the only one who wished to see her become a strong and powerful witch; that’s what he claimed, at least.
The second one was that she was not allowed to ever question the Dark Lord’s word – her father said that Tom Riddle, his old friend, was the one who told him to keep her, to raise her and protect her as a father should. In other words, she has a dad because a bald snake-looking man said she was worth the effort.
The third one, one with a great significance, was that she should not interact with Mudbloods more than necessary – which was, in her opinion, pretty confusing, given the fact that Voldemort himself was a Half-blood. But, she could not put that problem to a question because she would break rule number one and rule number two at the same time.
The last one was simple – don’t be a disappointment, don’t ruin the family’s image.
And that’s how she lived her life until her first year at Hogwarts. That’s when she started to disobey her dad by giving up on rule number three and talk to all her colleagues – nothing more than acquaintances, though, because the other Purebloods could mock her for doing so. She learned that everyone should be treated equally, no matter the blood that was running in their veins – they were all wizards, after all. That’s a reason she got close to James Potter last year, in her fourth one. The older boy was shocked to see a Slytherin act that politely towards a first-year Muggleborn Gryffindor and jokingly asked her if she was sick. He said she was not like the others. He said she was quite nice.
They had a few other accidental meetings in the hallway, and without realizing Y/N started to get nervous around him; her heart would beat faster when she’d hear his voice in the Great Hall and her cheeks would burn when she’d wake up from another dream about him – that was her first crush ever. While at the final party of the year, where only a few Slytherins were invited – it was hosted by the Marauders, after all – Y/N was kissed by James. The party was at the end, she wanted to leave and he offered to walk her back to the Dungeons. It was the best night of her life, she finally felt seen, heard, liked. Maybe it was because of their encounters, maybe because James could see behind her social mask or maybe it was simply because of all the firewhiskey and beer, but he kissed her. He really kissed her, right at the door of the Slytherin’s common room. He grabbed her waist, cupped her cheek and even groaned against her lips when she gathered the courage to put her hands in his dark curly hair. He smiled at her and wished her a great summer, and then walked off backwards, still watching her.
That’s why she was excited all summer to get back at Hogwarts. That’s why she was determined to learn more about Muggleborns, to change her life and morals. That’s why she started fighting her father when he’d open the topic of marriage – James was, of course, a Pureblood, as Cyrus wished for his only child, but he was also a blood traitor. She never told her dad about him, but she wouldn’t even once let him get the idea that she was willing to marry one of his friends’ sons. They were all pricks, and she was only thinking about James.
That’s why her heart broke on the train – he wouldn’t even look at her. That’s why now, a few days after, she still looks like the train hit her. That’s what she thought, at least, because everyone else complimented her new jewelry, her hair, her nail polish, every stupid and insignificant thing. Her eyes had dark circles under them, her skin felt strange and her appetite was nowhere to be found.
“Don’t you like the porridge?” asks Evan and points to her bowl.
His sister, Pandora, gets her head out of the tarot book and scoff in disapproval. “Could you mind your business, Evan?” She should be at the Ravenclaw table, but she really likes to spent time with them.
Y/N only smiles to them and pushes away the bowl. “You can have it, Evan, I’m not that hungry,” she winks in his direction and starts writing on her parchments again.
Because that’s what she does – that’s the only way not to look at the other side of the room, at the Gryffindor table. She studies over her Potions’ notes, her first class from that day. Professor Slughorn announced another meeting of the Slug Club and her new goal was to get invited, again. There are a few girls that get to be invited to those dinners, and Y/N was one of them but Horace liked to see new faces from now and then.
“You really want to go,” mutters Bruce Mulciber, looking at her with a bored expression. Edmund Avery hits his arm in a not-that-subtle manner and smiles at her widely.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are while studying, Y/N? So smart,” the boy says and winks in her direction.
“How disgusting,” Pandora whispers at their behavior. Y/N nods her head and smiles politely to Edmund, while wishing she could slam his head to the table until she’d see blood. But that would definitely against any existing rule – both Hogwarts’ and her father’s.
She gets up and starts gathering her belongings, taking a last sip from her tea cup. “I have to go, guys. Evan, I’ll see you in Potions, right?”
“Yeah, I have to wait for Regulus, though,” he informs her and grabs her porridge bowl, smiling thankful in her way.
Y/N laughs and grabs her parchments, drinking the remaining tea in her cup. While at it, a body slams into hers and the contact makes her to drop the tea on her notes, her white shirt and her shoes. And there’s silence.
“Sorry,” says in a blank tone no one else than Regulus Black. His uniform is perfect, his hair is put in place and he even got the chance to get away from Y/N before any drop could be on him. “I didn’t see you there.”
She wants to shout. She wants to scream at him, grab her wand and curse him. She wants him to be as embarrassed as she is now, wet and watched by the entire dining hall. But she can’t. She got her father’s temper but she learned from him how to handle it. She needs to handle it.
“Regulus,” she says in a happy tone, “Evan was waiting for you,” it’s the only thing that comes out of her mouth as she looks only at him. Not at her housemates, her friends, or even over her shoulder at the boy who froze there with his friends, who are laughing at her.
“Yeah, I know,” he mutters. “Let’s go, Rosier,” he demands in a now friendly voice. “Horace is waiting in the classroom; he probably wants to talk about the Slug Club.”
That’s when Y/N forgets about everything and in the silence of her mind there is only Regulus’ voice. He probably wants to talk about the Slug Club. Still with a smile on her face, she gets her robes from the bench, wave goodbye to her friends and starts walking away. She cannot resists the temptation and looks at the Gryffindor table. He’s there, with Sirius on his left, laughing with his friends. After she leaves the Great Hall there’s a feeling of pressure on her whole body. Was he laughing of her? He could never, right? She was quite nice, after all.
Before entering the Potions class, she stood there for a few minutes, calming down. Now she’s putting on her dark robes, the silver snake shining on the green badge. As she’s buttoning it up, the steps of her colleagues echo through the dark corridor.
“There you are, Y/N,” sights Evan. He’s followed by Barty Crouch Jr and Regulus, who watches her like she’s sick with a blood curse. “You went ahead without looking back.”
“Oh, yeah, I got to make sure my robes cover the whole…” she looks only for a second at Regulus, “tea accident.” She says it while chuckling, like it was just a silly little accident which could happen to anyone. But not anyone would get away clean like he did after that kind of an accident.
“And yet you look worse than before,” Regulus speaks and his eyes points at her now clearly stained shirt. “Let’s go, boys, I’m sure Y/N knows how to dress herself,” he scoffs and smiles to her.
The other two boys follow him along and she sits there, blood boiling in her veins. Her anger is born because of two persons – her father, because he’d kill her if she was arguing with another Pureblood in public, especially Orion Black’s son, and Regulus Black, for being such and arse.
Horace Slughorn, however, didn’t seem to be that preoccupied by her entrance. He greeted her and went on with his lesson and for Merlin knows what time she finds herself thinking about Regulus, and how she’d strangle him with the tie around his neck if given the opportunity. Regulus has that power, to awake something in her that only wants to hurt him, to make him suffer and get out those cold eyes – maybe she could make a pair of earrings out of them. He was right besides her, sitting with Evan while she tried to ignore Barty’s jokes about their professor. Sometimes, she wishes so much to be away from them – she feels suffocated to be near them at school and also at home, when her father would take her with him at different events, but there’s no way that she could cross his word. You will act nice towards any pureblood kid, they are the only ones that deserve it – they are you only equals.
“That’s all for today, my dear students,” announces Slughorn and claps his hands together. “You have to write an essay about today’s lesson, in order for me to see that everything was very clear.”
She puts away her quill and ink and starts rolling the parchments that she took notes on. Barty plays drums in the wood of the table and Evan hits him behind his head with his notes. The two of them laugh and she can’t help but her Regulus’ scoff at their silly action.
“Oh, Mister Black, Miss Lestrange, could you stay for a little? I have something to tell you,” Slughorn says happily and goes over to his desk at the front of class.
“Yes, professor,” they both say and get up. They both also look at each other, eyes burning with annoyance.
“We’ll see you outside, ok?” asks Evan.
“Go on, don’t wait,” is the only answer he receives from Regulus before he goes first to Slughorn, Y/N right after him.
“Oh, my two favorite students!” the professor says as they remain alone in the classroom. “I hope the first days where excellent, kids.”
“Of course, sir,” Y/N smiles and Slughorn can’t help but lays his eyes a little longer on her, on her clothes. She was the only one that wore the robes during class.
“How are your parents, hm?” His question sits uneasy on them both. Y/N does not look at Regulus, Regulus does not look at Y/N – they both hope the other one will talk first.
And because she remembers her father’s words, she opens her mouth. “My father sends his greetings, sir. He got me a new potions book that I’ve read over the summer,” she says and accepts happily the proud nod from her professor.
“Very good, I’m pleased to hear that the vacation didn’t stop your liking for studying,” he laughs in a soft manner. “Right, Regulus? Miss Lestrange here sure is a great housemate, keeping our pride safe,” now is the Horace Slughorn, Head of Slytherin, that’s talking.
She sees with the corner of her eye that his body tenses. “Of course, professor,” he forces himself to say.
“Right,” Horace claps his hands together again, excited. “You two are the brightest students in my house, that’s the reason I’m sure you two will be also the brightest Prefects that Hogwarts has and will ever see!” He hands them the green badges, the word PREFECT being written on it with silver letters. “I’m sure you’ll make me very proud, children,” he says.
“You can be sure of it, sir. We’ll do our best,” Y/N smiles and looks at the metal badge from between her fingers.
“That’s all,” the professor says. “Come on, go to your business, I have another class now.”
She bites her tongue and smiles polite at him, before turning around.
“What about the Slug Club, sir?”
Regulus Black was not the most talkative person Y/N knew, but he sure was stubborn.
“Oh, Merlin, I nearly forgot! Of course, Mister Black, you and Miss Lestrange are more than welcome, I thought that’s already settled,” he said and smiled at them – Horace Slughorn wanted to make sure that the kids of two important families in the Wizarding World liked him as a teacher.
As soon as they leave the class, Regulus scoffs, the sound echoing in the corridor. “Maybe you’ll learn how to dress now that I’m forced to spend even more time with you.”
His voice is mocking, rude and teasing. Now that they’re alone, they can finally act how they really wish to. Y/N grabs the wand from her robes’ pocket and points it at Regulus, who’s now pressed against the stone wall and grins at her.
“If you ever try to outsmart me again, Black, I swear I’m gonna Crucio you,” she spats the words in his face and only for a second Regulus’ face drops, his eyes looking at the tip of the wand before returning at her face.
“Only if you’d be capable of doing something like that, you pathetic try of a witch,” he says and grabs her wand, pushing it away from his face.
“You really have a death wish?” she asks annoyed by his eyes that watch her with superiority, his curved lips that laugh at her.
“Careful, Y/N, you wouldn’t want you-know-who to find out what a brave and cruel witch you are, right? He may like it,” he laughs and walks away from her, leaving her alone at the door of the Potions’ class.
For a moment, she’s alone. And there’s silence. She looks at the green badge in her hand and exhales all the air in her lungs. And then, there’s laughter. And there’re steps which walk in her direction, and she wants to leave but she freezes pressed against the wall, right where Regulus was only a moment ago.
James Potter is walking beside a ginger girl; tall and beautiful and dressed in a red uniform, matching his. He makes her laugh as she’s playfully hitting his arm, telling him to stop. Y/N just stays there, and James doesn’t even seem to notice her. But the girl does – Y/N recognizes her as Lily Evans, the Muggleborn girl in James’ year. Lily’s green eyes watch Y/N as she sits there, badge in her hand, and the older witch smiles at her. She ignores James for a moment, giving Y/N a thumbs-up before pointing to her red badge, which had written HEADGIRL on it.
As they enter the room, Y/N starts walking away. She feels sad, maybe, heartbroken, even. She’s not sure. But she’s sure that she’s furious, angry, mad. Her father was right. Mudbloods and blood traitors deserve nothing.
And that’s only because James Potter picked the green eyes over the green badge.
#slytherin#angst#hogwarts#smut#regulus black#regulus x reader#slytherin reader#the black family#x reader#one way ticket#lestrange reader#james potter x reader#james potter x lily evans#the marauders#marauders era#sirius black#remus lupin
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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |
Part Five
Matty Healy x reader
Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.
What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?
Authors Note: IT'S FINALLY HERE. THEY MEET. AH IDK WHAT ELSE TO SAY. But I have just finished writing part 6! So I figured why not post 5? SO here it is, hope you enjoy? X
>Just a note! So there's no confusion, this first section of 5 coincides at the same time as the last part of 4, as in where heading into the studio it was seen from Matty's POV, this starts with Mouse's and then goes onto them actually meeting one another! Okay? ta:)
Warnings: um, moody matty, lil bit of self-consciousness, mentions of scarring
Masterlist
I was running a bit behind schedule. Which wasn't too unusual for me, what with being the single parent to a rambunctious four year old, but this time around I’d somehow managed to allow myself to be waylaid by Adi's antics.
Apparently upon entering the studio this morning, everything had just felt a little 'off'.
And after having announced that, I’d had to sit back and watch on whilst Adi had trudged out of the room in her heavy black boots, only to come back a few moments later with a stub of sage in one hand and a lighter in the other.
Honestly, I was pretty sure that I could still taste the thick plume of smoke that I’d been forced to inhale each time I breathed in, even after having quickly made my escape. But yet it clung to the back of my throat uncomfortably and I couldn't avoid the grimace that wrinkled my face as I tried to rid myself of the sooty tang which coated my tongue.
But that was just Adi, I supposed. And it was one of the many things I loved most about her, how she was so unapologetically herself- even if it meant that I was forced to cough up a lung-full of herbs every once in a while.
See, it was actually Adi’s grandmother that had gotten her into performing all of the rites and cleanses she did so often. The woman was a real spiritualist and had taken Ads in at a very young age, so Adi had practically grown up around it all. She often spoke about how her grandmother had wanted her to follow down the same path and show a deeper interest, but Adi had always been much more fascinated by music, fashion and all things that revolved around tech.
She was a proper whiz with a computer, but that didn't mean she didn't have an appreciation for her grandmother’s beliefs, nor a knack.
"Are you still coughing up a storm, you drama queen?"
Speak of the devil, and he doth appear, I thought dryly, as Adi reemerged from out of the hazy recording booth. The sage now nowhere to be seen.
I rolled my eyes at her and continued to fiddle with the wires I had wound in my hand.
"I can't fucking stand the stuff, Ads."
Adi merely smirked at me as she bypassed, practically skipping.
"I know, but it's always good to be prepared! Who knows what we'll have to deal with when the infamous diva finally arrives!"
I snorted at Adi's mocking tone and couldn't quite hide the quirk of my lip.
"Fair enough. Just leave that door wide open, will you? And grab the fan while you're at it, as well. Don't need him, and whoever's tagging along, catching on."
I watched Adi laugh in amusement as she wandered over towards the sofa, the sweet sound echoing around the open space.
"On it, Captain!"
The two of us worked quickly after that, whirling around the loft, and one another, in an attempt to get things sorted before our guest's imminent arrival.
It wasn't long before we both recognised the telltale sign of a car pulling up outside though, and upon hearing the engines rumble die out I immediately caught Adi's eye from across the room.
It was a silent challenge and with it there was a frenzied rush to see who could get to the nearest window first. Adi had promptly tossed her notes towards my desk and taken to skidding across the hardwood floors, whilst I had all but thrown myself over the back of the settee.
Adi made it there first, even in her heavy docs, and claimed the windowsill with an unnecessary amount of arrogance. She grinned primly at me as I reluctantly slowed my approach, leaving me to lean in close so that we could both try and get a good look in.
But from this angle, there was practically no use. I craned my neck as far as my torso would willingly allow me and could only just make out the tail-end of a sleek car parked up on the curb. I assumed that meant Healy had arrived.
"Can you see anything?" Came Adi's impatient voice, a hushed whisper even though we were three flights up.
"No." I grunted back, "Your fat head's in the way."
Ads scoffed at me and I didn't have to look at her to know that she was now glaring up at me. I grinned.
"My head is perfectly sized, thank you! But seeing as we’re on the topic of abnormalities, you're practically half giraf-”
Adi immediately cut her snide comment short when a loud voice suddenly trumped the usual roaring noise that went hand in hand with the large city that was London.
"Right my!" We heard.
The voice was sharp and irritated, fuelled by an obvious anger, and soon trailed off into a muffled grit.
Adi's head snapped back to the window at the very sound of it, whilst I couldn't help but question just how exactly she’d managed to contort her body in the way she had, long legs tucked up beside her as she pressed her torso against the glass to listen closer.
The voice rang out again, sharper this time, and my eyes shot down to meet Adi’s own.
In return, she gifted me a catty side eye- obviously enraptured by the sudden drama that had seemingly been handed to us- and I could do nothing but shrug at her in response, somewhat baffled.
I pulled away slowly when the voices didn't seem ready to rise again, and silently wished that I could've been a fly on the wall during a conversation like that.
Clasping Adi's wrist, I gently tugged her away. "Come on, you best get down there before things go sideways and we end up on the backend of it all."
"Me?!" Adi crowed back, her eyes wide in alarm as she let me drag her back from the windowsill. "Why not you?"
My face scrunched up at the very thought.
"Ah go on, Ads. Please! You're so good with shit like this, can charm your way out of practically anything."
She narrowed her eyes in response. "I know what you're doing."
I pursed my lips together in an attempt to keep up the innocent act, already feeling a grin cropping up. “Is it working? ‘Cause we both know you’re the sweetest talker around, Wells. Could talk your way out of police custody, you like.”
Adi clucked her tongue but moved to cross the loft. “Yeah, yeah. But we both know you’re just being a coward! What, you really aren't ready to face him yet?”
I was swift to spin around on my heel to hide the truth my expression conveyed, and ignored the question altogether as I headed back towards the booth. I also pretended not to hear the cow’s delighted cackles as she began to descend the staircase.
"Just make sure the camera's are rolling before I get back! And wish me luck!"
"Luck!" I called out loudly over my shoulder before unplugging the fan and then storing it away. She was definitely going to need it.
I busied myself with the last of my tasks afterwards, an odd feeling of anxiety welling in my chest as I went through the usual motions.
It was strange for me to linger too long on thoughts of nervousness, because I usually had too much going on in other aspects of my life. Making things a little too difficult to concentrate on the many things that could possibly go wrong.
This time around though, we weren’t dealing with the usual up and coming artist, new to the industry and overwhelmingly pleased to be invited on. No, this time we’d practically been fed to the sharks.
Because, of all the possible people, we’d just had to have landed Matty Healy.
I started to question it all again. How exactly I'd gotten myself wrapped up in a mess this big in the first place and only hoped that Adi fared alright with dealing with Healy on her own for a while.
Maybe it had been cowardly of me to send her in first but I really didn’t think I could face him just yet, seeing as it had been me that had set off the pyramid of fireworks that had seemingly burned a hole in his life.
A dull vibration pulsed in my back pocket, breaking me from my train of thought, and I found that I was very much thankful for the sudden distraction it offered.
Messages now
Finnleyyy
Just got back to the gallery, Teds was fine when I dropped him off!
If the show goes on any later feel free to message me and I'll pick him up x
I smiled down at the message.
At least that was one less thing I had to worry about, Teddy was safe and well, already settled in at the local nursery and in all honesty, I truly didn't know where I'd be without Finn, especially on days like these.
I was quick to fire back a text full of appreciation before I slipped the phone back into my pocket.
It was just as I had finished clearing up the rest of the studio that I heard a sudden rush of voices trail up the stairwell, and stilled at the very sound.
It was Adi’s voice which carried the furthest and so I ran my teeth along my bottom lip before ultimately deciding that running and hiding was my best bet. So I shot across the loft floor and into the recording booth to stow myself away.
Adi didn’t give me the chance to worry excessively over every little detail that could go wrong as the group of visitors grew marginally closer. So to keep myself busy for a minute or two, or to rather calm my erratic heart, I chose to fiddle with the last of the cameras that had been set up.
I felt, more than heard, the moment they passed the top of the stairwell as the wooden floorboards of the studio tended to creak beneath added weight.
It was pretty much impossible to hear what was being said on the other side of the recording booth though, due to its soundproof walls, but that tiny fact didn’t stop me from practically sealing myself against the door in an attempt to decipher the perfect moment for me to intervene on the situation outside.
For days I’d been practically driving myself stir crazy over all of this, I knew that I just needed to get it over and done with, save myself the stress before I brought another headache on. Because I could do this, he was just some guy. Famous or not.
So with a final albeit shaky breath, I braced myself and opened up the door.
Thankfully, I was almost instantly met by the comforting sound of Adi's voice.
“Ah, there she is! Was wondering when you’d show your mug. Fancy a cuppa, babe? Fixing up a few.”
“Please.” I breathed out a sigh and dragged a hand through my hair as I wandered towards the kitchenette, catching sight of the two bodies currently commandeering our tiny seating area.
I focused on the man sitting closest and the first thing I noticed about him was the sleek haircut he’d styled, it was clipped closely at the sides but left long on top to keep the thinning hairs going in one direction. He was different from what I’d expected, but not just because he was older, he also wore this brilliant smile when he moved to peer up at me, sincere enough that I felt my doubts ebb as I smiled back, taking in the rest of him and his fine fitting clothes which seemed to suit him well.
I dipped my head in a silent hello before my gaze flickered over towards our remaining guest.
It shouldn’t have felt as shocking as it did to finally set eyes on Matty Healy in person, not after all of the thorough planning I’d put into his very visit. But it was strangely surprising to bare witness to the way his lithe body was currently perched on the edge of our shabby armchair, the very same Adi, Finn and I had dragged back from the secondhand shop further up the main road. It felt wrong almost, having someone so obviously used to a certain luxury sat in the tatty thing.
I pulled my mind away from that last thought and focused on how I couldn't quite seem to tear my eyes away from the way Healy’s frame folded in on itself slightly, legs jutted out wide, elbows pressed against knees, and his chin cocked high. The guy’s overall stance was oddly domineering for someone so wraithlike, with hollowed cheeks and an aristocratic smile. It made him that much harder to read.
Healy’s own eyes were also hidden, so I couldn't make out the line of his gaze. Disguised behind a dark pair of glasses that I could only supposed cost more than what I’d make in two, maybe three months.
The question of what Healy might've first thought upon seeing me and the way I’d drowned myself in the oversized band tee I’d chosen that morning crossed my mind. But I was simply just thankful for the fact that I’d forgotten my knitted cardi somewhere behind me in the recording booth. Silently wishing that I had the balls, as well as the body, to pull off the outfits Adi liked to wear.
"Hiya." I finally greeted them, forcing myself to smile as I extended a polite hand outwards. "It's great to meet you both."
Even with the dark shades on, I easily spotted the way Healy's brows lifted in reply before he- rather reluctantly- clasped his own hand in mine.
I swallowed back the strained smile I wanted to give him in return and focused instead on the shake. Healy’s hands were apt, fingers long and slender, skin much softer than it should’ve been for any musician, and his knuckles prominent but wrist almost dainty. He was a juxtaposition if I’d ever seen one.
He was the first to pull away.
“Likewise.”
My jaw ticked at Healy’s sarky tone but I didn’t let it deter me. Staying professional, I turned to offer the same sentiment to his accomplice.
“I’m Mouse, by the way. It’s lovely to have you both. Hope you got here okay.”
The other man was much merrier than Healy, practically a total contrast actually, and he showed it in the joyful way he shook my hand, still smiling away.
“You know London traffic.” He replied around a low chuckle and let our hands fall, “Lovely to be here though. I’m Matty’s manager, Jamie.”
I smiled as I nodded in remembrance.
“Got to say, I really love what you two have done with this place. Skylight’s incredible.” Jamie added and I grinned before settling into the adjacent sofa, leaving plenty of space for Adi to take.
“You saw that? But yeah, I honestly think it’s the only reason we were so sold on this particular building- ‘cause the stairs are killer.”
“I can see why! I’m dying to have something like that back at mine, but the conservatory will have to do for now.” Jamie enthused and stood up when Adi strode on over.
Skillfully, the man helped guide the wooden tray Ads had been carrying towards the coffee table and smiled when she thanked him for his efforts, the image of a perfect gentleman.
“Thanks, Ads.” I breathed out in appreciation when the girl handed me my usual milky brew, then took a quick sip.
Someone snorted as I did and my eyes instantly flew over to discover that the sound had been made by Healy, because of course.
He seemed all too amused by something and, from the way his body was still angled towards me, I could only assume that it was down to something I'd done.
I blinked in confusion before I moved to raise my mug high above my head, reading the large, industrialised font that covered the bottom of the cup. Cunt.
The studio was probably the furthest thing from a professional setting, we’d always wanted the entire space to feel comfortable, safe even. But this was supposed to be our big break and so we had been trying to convey it as though it was. But here Adi was dishing out the gag gifts Finn had bestowed upon the loft last Christmas like it was a regular Tuesday.
Still, with a shake of my head, I couldn’t quite bring myself to dim my grudging grin as I shot a narrow eyed glare Adi’s way.
"Ta for that." I voiced with a light chortle and tipped the mug at her in false cheers, before my eyes then flittered over towards Jamie, who had since stifled his own amusement in favour of taking a slow sip of his own brew. And ah, yeah, there was the matching mug.
Healy laughed to himself in the little corner he’d created and I caught the way he subtly surveyed his own cup, out of the corner of my eye, just in case Adi had got him too.
Somehow he’d managed to avoid that particular jest and I knew that the only thing Healy really had to worry about now was if there was a secret dirty message waiting for him once he’d finally polished off his drink.
"What can I say? The mugs, they do not lie." Adi jeered, a mischievous glint in her eye before she turned her head back towards the two visitors. "See you've met our wonderful Mouse then! Ain't she a looker?"
I grimaced away from the hand that reached out to grab at my chin and silently questioned what I'd done to suddenly be on the deserving end of all her taunts.
Jamie laughed at the pair of us, but even with it, I didn't miss Healy's quiet hum or the way he was now seemingly more interested in the contents of his cup than the current conversation.
"Quite. We were actually just talking about you on the way up here, mate." Jamie divulged and I dragged my attention back towards the man, eyebrows lifting.
"Only good things, I hope." I replied, somewhat uncomfortably, but smiling lightly at Jamie before I managed to catch Adi's eye.
Ads simply waved me off. "Of course! They were interested in the show- how it started and what not." She told me and I nodded, mostly to myself as I relaxed further into the settee.
"Oh, well yeah, we've been around a while now."
"Adi mentioned that you were just a kid when you started out, sounds mad putting it like that." Jamie pondered, appearing quite intrigued by the topic. "How did this all come about then?"
Usually, I liked to skirt around this particular subject, wanting to dive straight into the work and forgo most of the small talk, but I caught the way Jamie’s eyes darted around our quaint little studio. He wasn’t just asking for the sake of it.
"If I'm being truly honest, a lot of stuff happened all at once." I revealed with a soft chuckle, but it lacked any of the mirth I was aiming for as I thought back to my second year of university, the year everything had quite literally turned on its head.
"I was in between jobs and my best mate suggested that I take the Twitter account I already had and turn it into something with a bigger presence. At the time, I had nothing left to lose so I just went for it."
At least, that was the shortened version of it. I’d skipped the mental breakdown, the almost losing my flat, and the birth of my child for the sake of not looking like a total psycho.
Jamie looked impressed or, at the very least, understanding as he nodded along to my words.
"Can't say I regret it now though." I had to tack on and smiled before attempting to trail my way onto a more formal topic. "I got your list by the way- what not to ask and all that. Think one of your lot emailed it to me earlier in the week. But I just wanted to let you both know-”
I let my eyes flit over towards Healy for a brief moment before they settled back on Jamie.
"That you don't have to worry about any of that whilst you're here. We want things to be relaxed, comfortable. I know your team was adamant on everything being a bit more structured, following the lines of an actual interview, but we don't do much of that around here. So I hope you're happy with just having a simple sit down."
"Like this?" Came a reply and I had to pause for a second before realising where the question had come from. Or who, rather.
I settled my mug down on my thigh, loosely supporting it with my hand, and looked over in the direction of Healy.
"A bit, yeah." I confirmed with an incline of my head, "That alright with you?"
The singer was silent for a long second and I couldn't help but take the opportune moment he gave to simply admire the way his fingers had wrapped themselves around his mug, mindlessly tapping away to a hollow tune.
Just when it appeared as though the silence had stretched on a beat too long, and Jamie had begun to shuffle forward ever so slightly in his seat, did Healy finally reply.
"If it's just you, then yes."
I tried not to let the reaction of how I really felt flash across my face then as I stared back at the man opposite.
From the corner of my eye, I could see the way Adi's lips had pursed unhappily in retort and how Jamie’s expression had hardened into a somewhat steely glare, desperate for Matty to spare a glance his way. Probably to scold him for being so painfully rude. But Healy, to my utter disbelief, kept his head firmly fixed towards me, even as he pushed the dark sunglasses he wore up into his curly hair.
It almost felt like we were in a stare off with the way I watched him for any tell that would surely give him away, slowly considering the proposition and not caring to cover up the way I could now stare into the other man’s dark brown eyes unabashedly.
From where I was sat, I could only just make out the darkened circles that rested beneath Healy’s pupils, as well as the red line that rimmed them. Their colour was far from unusual, brown, but his were not something you saw very often, they drew you in, kept you trapped. They harboured a multitude of other colours that blended ruthlessly into an array of raw umber.
As magnetising as they may have felt though, I found that I was mostly grateful to see that Healy’s pupils were of a normal size. The only thing I wanted to question were the walls that were so obviously barricaded behind them, giving me absolutely nothing in return.
"Just me?"
Healy simply stared back.
I couldn’t look Adi’s way when I finally answered the request, simply hoping that she would somehow understand. This felt too much like a test to say anything other than, “Alright. If that’s what you’d prefer.”
I moved to push my mug onto the corner of the coffee table, allowing myself a seconds release from his stare.
“But Adi often controls what goes on behind the scenes when we record, so it’ll be harder without her there, especially with all the cameras.” I explained carefully.
"Look, just hang on a second-" Jamie tried, obviously wanting to defuse the situation, but was ultimately cut off by Healy. It honestly felt as though the man believed neither Jamie nor Adi were a part of the conversation any longer.
"Can you do it?"
His tone was almost challenging, the four words fell from his wicked tongue like a dare.
"Not the type to back down." Was all I could think to retort, my hardened gaze once again zeroed in on Healy's own.
***
The recording booth was smaller than he’d expected. A table sat in the very centre, surrounded by a swarm of cameras and microphones, all of which seemed to be connected to a variety of wires Matty could hardly even bring himself to be cautious of as he stepped past.
The table hosted an array of tech though, from computers and mixing boards to monitors and speakers. None of which Matty was the least bit interested in either.
Three of the four walls were lined with acoustic foam panels, one’s you’d typically find in booths, while the last had been turned into a mural of sorts.
The mural was dark and edgy, a string of trees sprouted up from the ground and swept across the expanse of it, its branches winding upwards only to entangle in one another. A common field mouse sat crouched in between the trunks of the trees, its big eyes shining as it met Matty’s stare head-on. The walls centre held the name of the radio show and at first glance it looked as though it had been printed on one of those acrylic neon signs, but it was actually just extremely detailed.
Matty had to blink once or twice before he was finally able to look away.
"Who's work?" He found himself asking, filling the silence that had settled upon the closing of the booth's door. He jutted his chin out towards the far wall, sparing the art one last glance before he gave the girl his full focus.
Her eyes flitted up to meet his own before they sailed across to the mural.
"A friend." Was all she replied, but her voice had softened a touch now that it was just the two of them, Matty noted.
She offered nothing more than that and so Matty took it for what it was, nodding his quiet assent.
"Do you have anything in particular you'd like to talk about whilst you're here?" Mouse asked him as she clicked away at the computer, he felt strange using the name, even if it was just in his own head. "We've got a good hour or so before Adi comes snooping."
"I've got a million things I'd like to say," Matty let slip as he trailed on closer to the table, then forced a sardonic smile. "But I'm not particularly in the mood for a good tongue lashing today."
She looked slightly startled by his dry joke and Matty found himself having to hold back a smirk as he rounded the desk, fingertips gliding across the table's smooth surface.
"What about you, then?" He posed, not wanting to stunt their talk just as it had begun. Somewhat intrigued now. "Got anything you'd like to get off your chest for millions of people to hear?"
It was sarky, but when was he not? Though if he was being honest, Matty just found that he wanted to hear the girl talk, because for some reason he enjoyed listening to her. Her gentle accent had obviously been weakened during the time she'd spent in London but Matty enjoyed its easy lilt. It was almost soothing. He wondered where she was from, but didn't ask.
Mouse snorted, shaking her head. "Wouldn't quite say millions, a couple thousand at best."
Matty felt his eyebrows raise as he spared another glance over at her, thinking back to those eyes that had held his so solemnly. "What, even with me here?"
He was teasing, but her eyes widened briefly as though she feared she had offended him, but as mentioned, it was only a brief flicker before a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
"Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see how loyal your fans truly are, Healy."
"Guess so." Matty mocked.
***
The show had gotten off to a rocky start. I had been all too aware of the surrounding cameras and the way the menacing rockstar, sat centimetres away from me, liked to keep his stare fixed firmly on me at all times, following my each and every movement.
I couldn't quite help the way I shifted uncomfortably every time I looked up and caught Healy's eye either, or the way I’d chosen to angle my face away from the cameras to avoid looking directly into any lenses.
I was dead crap when it came down to things like this. It all became too much, the pressure to entertain, to pretend that I was fine, that I was comfortable in my own skin, to chat away like there weren't already a thousand eyes studying my every flaw.
Look, give me a microphone and any sodding topic that either pissed me off or positively enthralled me and I'd be happy to rant the ears off of any nutter willing to listen. But in scenarios such as these, I always felt slightly on edge. Teetering on the verge of falling right on over it.
‘Cause I knew what people saw when they looked at me. I was all too familiar with the pitying glance I often got spared, as well as the grimaces people couldn’t seem to hide when they walked by.
I’d had to deal with it for years. Ever since I was a kid.
And upon hearing that, anyone would probably figure that I might’ve gotten used to all the gawking by now, especially with a toddler constantly keeping me on my toes. But ultimately my son’s presence often appeared to exaggerate the mixed reactions I received.
In truth, I’d never really been given the time to come to terms with the scars that marred my body, my face. The white lines that spoiled the features underneath.
So claiming it to be a rocky start, would only put a dent about the size of a pea into the way I was currently feeling!
Healy was rather unhelpful too, just as I’d predicted. He seemed to almost get off on watching me writhe under his leer and his answers to the questions or topics brought up were half-hearted at best.
Really, I was beginning to doubt the way in which I’d figured this entire mess would end.
It was only supposed to be a quick and easy chat, the two of us sat there gossiping like old mates, proving to the rest of the world that there really was no animosity or underlying conspiracies to this whole setup. When in actuality, that really wasn't the case.
Time and time again I found myself questioning why exactly Healy had even bothered to come, why he had even agreed to the whole ordeal in the first place. Especially when he was so apathetic with his replies.
"So," I trailed off, somewhat desperate to save what was left of the segment- for my sake at the very least. I didn't even want to think of what sort of issues this would cause for the show. "Music! I mean, from an outsider's point of view, we never really got the whole backstory on how you and the rest of the band really met. I mean, you’ve said you started it in secondary school, but you yourself were kind of pushed into the limelight at a really young age, so how did you and the guys connect?”
Healy tensed at that particular question, his shoulders forming a more rigid line as his gaze flickered away from me for only the briefest of seconds before it returned, but it was enough to alert me to the fact that I was treading into murky waters. I tried to backtrack.
"But in all honesty, what I really want to know about are all the sordid details, life after all that crap, the answers to the things people never think to ask. Like, I've seen pictures of your clearly extensive guitar collection all over your Instagram feed, you must have a favourite!"
Matty's lips curled into something which almost resembled a smile then and it honest to God threw me through a loop. A metaphorical loop, of course, I wasn't quite sure if we could fit any sort of loop-like shape into a space this small.
But I was letting myself get sidetracked and couldn't help but question whether that was the sort of thing Healy typically thrived off of. He’d smiled, and nothing wicked or sarky had tinged it, it’d been a genuine smile. And I had to blink just to make sure my eyes hadn't been playing tricks on me as Healy edged forward in his seat, a coy grin now dancing at the corners of his muted pink lips.
"A favourite? Now that's the question to ask! Honestly? It'll have to be the '63 Jazzmaster I've got. It’s wicked, used by the Ramones on their debut album and then by David Byrne on early Syre demos. So it’s seen quite a bit."
After that, I just sat there. Stunned as Healy continued to rant about this poxy guitar he was so obviously smitten with and couldn't help but be utterly captivated by each and every word that slipped from his mouth.
Apparently all I had ever needed to get past the games and ginormous walls Healy had defensively built around himself was to simply be myself. Ask the questions that maybe only I wanted to know the answers to.
See, I wasn't the biggest people person but I figured myself to be somewhat of a skilful conversationalist. What with my past, I’d kind of had to force myself to be. But I was glad to have finally been given an in with Healy, no matter how small. It helped the interview pass by a lot easier.
Although the new spirit Healy adopted after that only seemed to last until nearing the very end of the show.
In truth, I had all but forgotten about the cameras and microphones set up, the fact that people were still listening in, were watching us converse, whilst I simply lost myself in listening to Healy prattle away. Positively enraptured by the way the musician's mind worked as he explained the complexity of a certain riff he adored, or the time he'd pretended to get off in Madison Square Garden- much to the dismay of his PR Team.
"They went absolutely mental when I first proposed it. I'm telling you! Yapping about time and effort, and it being too much for the younger viewers, then the plans that would have to be put into place- all that merry shite. And I’d just been sitting there in these, these skimpy leather trousers, quietly debating over when, or if I'd ever, get the feeling back in my legs. And don't even get me started on my knob. I mean, it must've shrivelled up and die- hang on, I can say knob, right? On air?"
Looking at him in that moment, forgetting everything I already knew, it was like I was seeing this whole other person. Someone who wasn't so confrontational, so quick to defend, or easy to recoil.
It was clear, to me at least, that Healy wasn't the image the media painted of him, he was simply human. A troubled man who truly loved music, in every sort of variety, and wanted to vocalise and share that love with everyone else. He was eccentric for sure, but sincere.
I could see that, even if it only felt like I'd only been given the tiniest bit of insight into the person Healy so obviously tried to keep concealed.
It wasn't long later when I startled somewhat upon seeing the flashing red light of one of our cameras go off to my left and immediately, I jolted upright in my seat.
"God- crap!" I blurted out stupidly as I grabbed at the headset that had threatened to fall off my head in my sudden haste. "Hold on. Sorry, got really sidetracked there- one of the camera's is telling me it's on its last legs, so we'd best start wrapping this up."
Healy deflated ever so visibly, shrinking back in his seat as he huffed a soundless chuckle.
"Can't seem to stop me once I get going." Healy widened his eyes to emphasise his point and I observed how he had hastily retreated back into himself to haul his guard up again.
I was quick to shake my head. "No, truthfully I can't remember the last time I just got to sit here and listen. It was nice not having to do all the work for once."
Matty licked at his top lip upon hearing that and rewarded me with another mirthful smirk. I realised I'd properly put my foot in it there, stressing over why I’d even worded it like that.
Whilst he chuckled to himself at the picture I must’ve made, I decided my best bet was to hurry on and end the show, reciting what needed to be said before I finally signed off, clicking a button.
It was just as the 'ON AIR' sign above the door went off that Adi barged straight through the entrance, gracing us with her wonderful presence. Jamie was just behind her, peeking his head around the doorframe.
"Well I think I can say that that went as well as it could’ve!" He announced, coming to a standstill by Matty as he clapped his client heartily on the back. "Well done, Matt. You as well, Mouse."
"Appreciate it." I smiled up at him before tugging off my headphones and pushing away the mic.
With all four of us now crowded into the makeshift room, the booth suddenly felt a lot smaller than it usually did, and so I tried my best to disguise the way my body immediately reacted to the realisation.
"I'm in dire need of a fag though. Will you be alright tidying up in here, Ads?" I announced as I pulled myself up onto my feet, already beginning to shuffle towards the exit. I picked up the cardigan I'd left on the back of one of the chairs as I went, using it as a shield almost.
"Yeah, of course. Glasses here wanted to discuss one more thing before they made a move anyway."
I shot an arched brow at the man in question but Jamie waved my curiosity off. "Nothing too detailed. Just some forms that need signing."
I didn't much like the part of the arrangement that came after recording, but with an understanding ‘Ah’, I forced myself to ask, "Erm, don't suppose you need me to stick around for any of that do you?"
"Nah," Jamie laughed lightly, "Go on, you're all good."
I smiled, silently praising the stars above as I nodded once and resumed my exit, tugging the cardi on as I hastily made my way over to the fire escape.
Praying that our luck hadn’t run out just yet, I hoped that no one else was up on the roof waiting for me when I pulled my feet up the rickety metal staircase. It was just about the last thing I needed at that moment.
I already had my lighter in hand by the time I'd made it over to our little makeshift patio we’d created, which consisted of a few wooden pallets and a couple of large cushions that overlooked the neighbouring buildings.
It wasn't much, Islington. It was inner London sure, and had its fair few classier joints to show off, but I much preferred what else it had to offer. Like how the hustle and bustle of the city quietened just as you lost yourself down the backroads. And all the parks that had been scattered in and around the main developments and the dozens and dozens of buildings that were constantly cropping up. How there was a pub on almost every street corner and a Sainsbury's never too far away. I even enjoyed the gentle rattle of the overground, it was all too familiar now. Felt more like home than the Isles ever had.
Looking out across the surrounding rooftops, I wondered again just why my mum had yet to leave our tiny town as I lit a cigarette and lifted the filter to my lips.
The first chance my father ever got he’d gone running for the hills and then me, myself, had upped and left the confines of our small cottage as soon as the offer had presented itself.
It wasn't that the harbour town I'd grown up in had nothing to offer. It had a sense of community, a beautiful shoreline (even in the colder months), and of course, the local rugby team.
But speaking in a manner of careers, well, unless you were breaking out on your own and had the cash to open up a shop on the high-street, then you were probably destined to either work in the local greengrocers, serve behind the village bar, or get a shift down by the docks.
You were lucky if you had a bit more meat on your bones though, because then you also had the added opportunity of getting an offer to start laying bricks for one of the few building companies. Most of which were family based.
We had the main school too which housed both primary and secondary kids, and the local college was available if you wanted to further your education. But the closest University campus was a good hundred miles away.
I had applied, but only to lessen the guilt I'd felt towards my mother when I'd started looking for courses available in just about any place apart from home whilst filling out uni apps.
I could still recall the day I’d finally told her I'd be leaving for London. Felt like a lifetime ago now really.
I'd definitely have to call her up again soon, to make sure that she was doing okay, even if it meant that I'd be forced to listen to her rattle on about coming home for Christmas. Again.
I sighed contently to myself and it was just as I flicked away a stump of ash that I heard someone approach.
#the 1975#fic#matty healy#angst#radio host#reader#x reader#x you#george daniel#ross macdonald#the 1975 band#adam hann#fluff#humour#matty healy fic#matty 1975#matty healy x reader#matty x reader#matty healy x you#ao3#pining#fame#strangers to lovers#mum reader#kid fic#getting together#SLOWBURN#mutual pining#Warnings#aipoban
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Your technical skill with lineart and shading is amazing in itself, but it's your ability to convey emotion and atmosphere in your work that is trademark to me :) its incredible how you can show through gesture and body language just what these masked, expressionless characters are feeling, and how the environment itself conveys that. Your lurien comics, especially the one that ends in something along the lines of "I return to the kingdom you abandoned" are I think the spark that made Lurien go from Some Guy to Deeply Interesting for me, and your use of color pop and shaky line contributed so much to the feeling in those comics. You are one of the artists whose skill at evoking emotions I aspire to <3
Oh wow, I've been reading and re-reading this for the last 20 minutes this is amazing.
So, emotions!
If there is one thing I'm proud to have accomplished during my time in Hollow Knight, it's the skill of expressing tone. Because here's the thing, facial expressions are just one of the many components of tone. (I even wrote about this in another ask some time ago.) Colors, gestures, camera angle, lighting, paneling, lines and narration - all of these come together to convey the mood of the scene.
Check out these wips from the Watcher and the Watched comic, for example.
You can see that color played a huge role in setting the atmosphere in the comic. It shows that this comic is taking place in the Watcher's Spire, but it also gives a dark, subdued feeling that wouldn't come from idk, a yellow background. The backlight emphasizes the ominous tone of the last page. As does Lurien's pose - coupled with the butler looking up and Lurien looking down, it makes it look like Lurien is looming over his butler (and the reader). All this builds up to deliver Lurien's lines with maximum impact.
So yeah, a lot goes into conveying tone in comics, and I'm very happy to hear that it was recieved well!!
The Lurien, Dreamer comic. It's almost 2 years old now but it's still one of the favorite comics I drew about him. Together with the City of Tears comic, it's the epitome of my interpretation of Lurien. My characterization of Lurien's relationship with the Pale King was quite different from the usual fanon at the time (I don't know how it is now, I haven't gone into the tags in years haha) and I wasn't really sure how people would take it. So I'm glad to hear that it got you interested in Lurien!
It's the one that took the longest too lol. Usually I draw comics in a single setting, but that one took 3 days. Besides Two Ghosts (which was an 18 chapter+@ comic that was over 50p and took about 2 months), no other comic has broken this record. I put in a lot of care into it, and it still holds a special place in my heart.
Honestly half the reason I use messy, sketchy lines is that I suck at drawing clean lines lmao. But I like to think that I've made the best of it and utilized it as an art style. In that comic especially, because the whole thing takes place in the dream realm and I wanted to give a rough, unreal feel to it.
I'd show breakdowns of this one too but the file is so big it keeps crashing lol. (Pro tip - draw your comic pages in separate files. Don't be like me and draw 300dpi 10p comics with 30 layers in each page in a single canvas. It will crash and you will be sad.) But drawing the White Palace was a interesting challenge because I usually draw in highly saturated colors whereas the Palace is, well, white. So I had to work out a way to color this without making everything looking grey, while also making it recognizable as the palace. iirc I used a lot of overlay & burn & dodge layers along with a few difference & subtract layers to give the white a slight yellow tint to stand out from the dark blue. (I'm pretty sure they're the culprits crashing the file.)
Sorry this got long, I really took this as an invitation to ramble about my art hkfsldjkflj
Thank you for all the compliments! It's an honor to hear that my art could be someone's aspiration, and I'm very happy that all my Lurien art got someone else into Lurien. I hope you have a nice day :D
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Hello how are you? I’d like to request killua x f reader headcanons where the reader has pet dragons. Like you can tell she’s weak and yet when a giant creature shows up behind her it’s bound to be a little menacing. I’m sorry I know this is a weird request I’m just obsessed with dragons 😭
How to train your Dragon (ft. Y/N and Killua)
Okay first off, this is just adorable.
Okay so Killua really undermined you when he first saw you, he liked how nice and gentle you were, but you were too weak to be interesting.
However Gon really adored you, so you invited both of them to your house.
And Boom, he was quacking in his boots when he saw this ginormous Dragon greet you like a puppy.
The Zoldycks have a large dog as a pet too, but a dragon?? that's a whole new level.
He is just standing there like: 🧍
And you are like "Oh don't worry he doesn't bite."
Yeah, clearly he doesn't bite, he just kills on the spot-
Gon is already trying to befriend the Dragon and Killua is just holding him by his T-shirt to stop him from running like Bro chill, that's a whole Dragon, not a puppy.
If the Dragon helps in fights I hate to break it to you, but Killua will sometimes make fun of that.
He'll be like "Oh you can't even fight without (dragon name?)"
Oh god if you start crying he genuinely feels like the worst scum on the earth.
What's worse? Your Dragon is growling at Killua for making you cry.
Timeskip to the next day, and you wake up to see your dragon decorated with flower garlands and stick-on sequins and stickers on its scales.
He is holding one end of a banner and your dragon is holding another end of the banner which reads 'I'M SORRY.' You try to ignore the slight burns on Killua's clothes.
Anyways after that you guys just got closer, and the things that Killua made fun of started looking cuter.
Like look how fragile you look next to the dragon Jskdoeidowedui
Or the way you care about everyone, he is so enamoured by it.
Boy is head over heels but doesn't know how to process his feelings.
UNTIL you are in a fight where you end up getting hurt badly.
My guy goes absolutely bat-shit crazy.
Then its pretty obvious tbh you guys just figure it out eventually,
Dragon best wingman!
Idk what this is I am sorry if you don't like it.
- Hunter x Hunter - Fanfictions
BYIDNI ﹒ Request-Rules ﹒ Taglist ﹒
TAGS: @akumicchi, @nanaseishiro, @denkis111, @futuristicallykawaiiturtle, @kristaline2dmensimp, @innerpurple,@juanasspirit, @renster05, @cleaningfairylevi,
psst, hey, over here! Uhm hi :) Do you like reading? If so can you please check out my first novel? I am a 15-year-old author who needs support, I assure you it won't disappoint! Its okay if you don't buy, it would be enough to share the link with someone else who might be interested! I humbly request you support my career as a child author by purchasing my book. This would help me to write more books in future.
“Of Vengeance and Ashes” -> BUY NOW!!!!
#killua hxh#killua hunter x hunter#killua x reader#killua fluff#white poppie🌼#hunter x hunter#hxh fluff#hxh fanfic#killua headcanons#hxh headcanons#hxh hcs#killua hcs#hxh
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In light of tumblr shooting itself in the foot, I've been thinking about what I should do with my art from now on. Obviously, deleting my old posts off here isn't gonna do shit, it's essentially locking my door after my house got emptied out by burglars. Especially with my old rp account I no longer can log into, they're just gonna steal and sell my old art that I posted there and I can't even flip a questionably-affective toggle about it.
Thing is, I dunno how many people are gonna actually leave. I'm not even sure I will, since I have a lot of friends here... And after so many shitty updates a lot of people are just hanging on out of spite at this point.
That said, I'm considering that for art posts and stuff, maybe I'll post them elsewhere and just link to them here so they're not on tumblr's servers? Idk... Tumblr tends to kill the visibility of links but I'm not really sure what else I can do.
Also, there's the question of where to actually post new stuff. Bluesky seems the most active but I dont know if old posts cut off after a certain amount of posts like twitter does, in which case that would not be a good archive in the long run. xnx
Cohost is functionally pretty close to tumblr, but ngl it seems super isolated on there bc of its commitment to not showing any likes on your posts. I get that its to combat the social media numbers game, but the downside is that it looks like nobody's even seen your work. If people like something of yours there's no way outside of notifs to see it, so scrolling down on your page and seeing only zeros after zeros of comments on stuff (comments are the only visible number), it's easy to feel like you're just posting into a void.
Pillowfort is pretty good, and they just added tag blocking and the ability to queue/schedule posts. Still kinda quiet and invite only, but if you sign up for the invite queue you can get one pretty fast. Also i probaby have a ton of invites sitting around if anyone wants one. I wish it had an app, but mobile web version works well enough I guess, and I'm already used to doing that with sheezy and newgrounds, so I just have those open in mobile tabs together.
Speaking of, Newgrounds has been pretty good, but due to the nature of the portal system and stuff you're more encouraged to post only your better-looking stuff there. You CAN post doodles if you want, but only outside of the portal, which limits their visibility. Kinda like dA's scraps system I guess.
Sheezy looks super promising customization-wise so I'm thinking of posting there more when it opens up to more peeps.
Toyhouse also looks really good for OC and story things too, and also has a good degree of customization.
There's probs options I haven't even thought about, but its good to know there ARE options. I may post in several of those places for now and see how it goes. Test the waters a bit.
If you're thinking of moving your art elsewhere lemme know where, I'm curious to see where people are going :o
Especially you moots, i need to refind my pals in these other places!
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A Man of Honor - Odysseus x Trojan Princess!Reader
Troy 2004 Oneshot
Requested by @alysinwonderland-at-tea
"Ok ok ok, so..... here's the idea.
Odysseus, with the younger sister of Paris and Hector, like she gets captured because she bought Briesis time to run. She fought off some of the men but couldn't get all of them. Anyway, quite like the movie scene, Agammenon "gives" her to the men to "play with" (throws her to the wolves). But instead of Achilles rescuing her, it's Odysseus. He suggests that hurting her would not be in their best interest because she is the princess of Troy, and if they harm her its gonna be really bad for them. Anyway, the reader falls for him because he's so honorable. Idk man, he seems honorable, and men with honor got me"
Sure, dear!! My twist on the concept is a bit fluffier, but hope you will enjoy it anyways.
Warnings: Kidnap, Agamemnon and Menelaus being creeps, threats and an attempt of sexual assault ( stopped by Odysseus), age gap.
Note: For this i'm pretending he is single, simply because i don't picture Odysseus as a cheater.
Tags: @yerevasunclair
The gathering of the kings celebrating the first greek victory of the war finished abruptly because Agamemnon of Mycenae, supreme commander of the forces, wanted to scold his rebel soldier. Used to act as intermediate between them, Odysseus of Ithaca intended to follow the matter closely. He was the last one leaving the tent, trying to prepare Achilles for the meeting hoping he wouldn't loose his temper again. Sensically suspicious of the situation, he waited outside pretending he cared to talk with the guards of the mycenaean king.
A good amount of them were watching over a girl, likely a spoil from the looting of the temple. Two aspects of that scene got the sharp observational skills of the ithacan king on alert. The first one, knowing that the myrmidon leader would never handle a prisoner of war to a man he often adressed as an old pig. Second, that the escort was too great to watch over her. There were way to many men gathered arround her.
" Don't you all have orders to follow?" He mocked them in a friendly tone. " Just two of you would be enough, she is clearly going nowhere. "
The cleverly delivered callout brought a half smile from her, and in a closer look Odysseus noticed that her eyes were more vivacious than normal for a captive.
There was still fire in her glance, a sign of life.
" The myrmidons warned us to watch out, they say she fought bravely for her freedoom. " One of the mycenaeans informed him. " We brought her for the King, she is the treasure he has choosen."
No flicker of fear in her face as she was hearing her fate, what made Odysseus wonder if she was too brave or completely unaware of the dangers coming at her.
" Two were actually left in charge, the rest are just watching." She commented him. " They won't stop talking about how pretty they find me."
He felt as if he was being invited to share an opinion on the matter, probably being tested by her because she wanted to know if he would hurt her.
" A young slave as beautifull as you must worth more than everything I keep in my tent." He joked in return. " Even if Troy would be sacked tomorrow, like Agamemnon hopes, none of this men would affort to have one like you. They know it, so consider their vulgar admiration a reflection of their powerlessness. "
It wasn't enough to work as comfort, but she didn't mind.
" I don't mind, as long as they won't touch me."
Her pridefullness was out of place, as if she tried to prove she was still weilding some sort of authority she may have had in the past.
" Sadly, I think that's the first thing Agamemnon would want to do." Odysseus informed her, trying to do what he considered was waking her up to the new reality. " ... You were lucky of not being exhibited in front of all the other leaders in the celebration, he likes to brag about his prizes."
The latter comment seemed to have offended her, she even dared to give a few temptative steps in his direction to verbally fight back.
" I'm not a prize, I'm a hostage. " She quickly corrected. " And I'm ready to bargain the terms of my liberation."
The mycenaeans laughed, but Odysseus could tell she was being serious because the fire of her eyes could have burned him alive. Unfortunately, he couldn't keep interrogating her because the men in charge were called to bring her inside.
He watched her following them calmly and couldn't help smiling. Partially, because he wished he could ease such horrible moment for her, but also given how impressed he remained of her attitude. As if she already knew that Agamemnon wanted to see her humilliated, she quickly put together what was left of her honor and dignity walking inside with the grace of a royal.
It was in that moment when the clever king of Ithaca discovered that you, new treasure of the mycenaean king, could be hidding something of importance. After Achilles stormed out of the place he was too angry to acceed any questioning, so his curiosity had to wait a little longer.
During that first encounter you couldn't tell exactly who he was, but you knew he had some sort of authority over men due to how they listened to him. However, his way with words was astonishingly pragmatical. To them, he sounded like a friend making healthy advices before a greater power figure could reprimand them and, to you, like a fair ruler. Never taunting your anger like Achilles did, or threatening you like you later discovered was custom of Agamemnon.
Nightfall was the dealbreaker of your fate, signaled time for the accomplishment of the dark promises he made to you. After having dinner, he would make you give him a bath to later have his way with you. Playing wise with your only advantage to save yourself, you waited untill then to start the negociations.
The king's table had guests, more commanders that you didn't know. When his brother heard that you were the only daughter of King Priam, everything seemed lost. A third leader arrived to hear the very stubborn brothers discuss what would be the most efficient way to make you suffer instead of accepting your more wise proposal of a bargain with your family.
Awareness of his coming silenced their wicked planning, like if they suspected he would have a say against that.
" Odysseus! " Agamemnon saluted him. " Welcome, old friend! "
You recognized the kind man and his friendly smile, paying high that short distraction. The King of Sparta tried to grab you from behind and forcefully sit you on his lap. Reflexes reacted fast and you fought him, but in the scape you accidentally stumbled with the newcomer.
He catched you gently, holding your shoulders so you won't fall.
" Forgive me, ... Odysseus." You inmediately responded, your voice turning slightly sweeter with the pronunciation of his name, then moved away after finding balance. " ... Please, take a seat. I'll get you some roasted meat from King Agamemnon's feast."
He smiled in polite agreement, but the calm enviroment didn't last long.
" GET BACK HERE, TROJAN WHORE!" Menelaus complained, angry because you didn't behaved with the docility he expected. " YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOUR BROTHER DID TO ME! "
You refused to move and swallowed hard, then replied.
" Your wife's choices aren't of my concern, but become more understandable to me with the display of your brutal manners."
Your refined insults amused Agamemnon, who thought that your flamboyant manners were hilarious.
" ... A trojan princess. Can you believe our luck? " He commented to the freshly arrived king. " My brother wants to go first, reparations for his honor. "
Odysseus was frankly horrified by the scene, there was no honor in the sort of justice that Menelaus seeked.
" It's a terrible idea. If you hurt her, this girl could become a symbol even more powerfull than Helen. "
" I told them, but they won't listen. " You interrupted him. " King Menelaus doesn't understand the concept of bargain, perhaps you can explain it to him."
You shouldn't have say that, but the presence of the ithacan made you feel safer as the anger of Menelaus keep growing.
" YOU INSOLENT LITTLE .... "
Odysseus gave him a path on the shoulder right before claiming his sit.
" My friend, calm down! She is just a girl, maybe even young enough to be your daughter. " He minimized your insults for you. " And, unfortunately, she is right. Having her is too riskfull and we can't allow more reckless mistakes. "
You realized he was subtly referencing the fight of Agamemnon and Achilles, what made you stiffle a chuckle in reminder.
" Postpone your vengeance for the right targets. " He concluded, deviating the topic. " You are here to kill Paris, not to take advantage of his little sister. "
The excellently delivered speech was enough to calm him, but not to make him desist.
" Odysseus, you are a good friend, but the use I will give to my brother's slave is not your problem. "
" ... Not yet wed, certainly untouched. " Agamemnon provoked him. " Pretty virgin princess will make for a fine revenge. "
You spat on the ground, a wordless curse, but that only increased the hate of the spartan king.
" I can't wait to taste you ... And tomorrow, I will tell your brother exactly how i had broken you. "
Terrified in the inside, you still won't let him knew it.
" Before you would get to finish bragging the sword of Hector would have already pierced you. " You recalled, as serious as if you would be sentencing him to death. " He wont care about your hurted honor if your sense of justice damages his siblings. He tossed our familiar honor to the sea to save Paris' life once, we are fighting this war because of that. "
Your elocuency was the surprise of the night, the King of Ithaca was very attentive to your words.
" It's true, Paris had no honor proceeding the way he did, but if you force me you give up your right to claim you are the victim here because that's not the justice of an honorable man. " You bravely kept exhorting the spartan king to save yourself. " Your mistreated wife, who not all trojans simpatize with, will win credibility. "
Odysseus began to chuckle, a subtle expression of pride.
" Right again, your highness! " He pointed out. " The ruin of your virtue would unify trojans at the precise moment we are on the edge of loosing Achilles. The Kings should respect you, not even because that would be the action of an honorable man. From the most selfish standpoint, it's still the wisest solution. "
Agamemnon evaluated the advice with disdain. The goal of unifying greeks against a common enemy was an essential part of his plan. Previous attempts of presenting Helen as a victim of kidnap had failed, everyone knew she ran away on her own and the moral approach changed. She was a whore who left her husband, but you were an innocent virgin dragged away from a temple.
A perfect victim, everything in that story highlighted your purity and a direct threat to it could cause a response even more violent than than Paris taking Helen did.
" May you care to suggest us what to do with her then, Odysseus? " He sarcastically critiziced. " Giving her to you, perhaps? I won't fall for your trickery if what you want is fooling me into gifting you a prize that was too fine for Achilles. "
You hide your face using your hair so he won't see your excited reaction to hearing he could want to take you out from that tent.
" Offer her hospitality, show her that we are not savages. " Odysseus simply proposed. " Menelaus should also work on his impersonation of an honorable man wanting his wife back. We are all here claiming to be victims because of him and the control of this narrative gives our army a moral advantage. If he turns Paris into the savior of a frightened Helen escaping the brutality of her husband, this motivation falls apart. An insulted king who demmands justice can't brag revenge forcing himself on the virgin princess captured while she was innocently praying for the salvation of her homeland."
You directed a triumphal smirk to the youngest of the despicable kings, but Odysseus warned you against that with an impercepible glance.
" Do you play any table games, little one? " He asked you right away, resolving for everyone else. " My favorite way of getting to know someone is learning how they think."
You couldn't believe your ears because the kind offer seemed so out of place.
" Table games? After this two were deliverating on who should hurt me first and what would be more painfull, you offer me to play games with you? " You repeated, in disbelief. " You are a strange man, King of Ithaca, ... but quite lovely. "
To your even greater surprise, he even helped the greek servants on settling you a spot where you could be comfortable. The disgusting brothers gave him freedoom of action because they believed he was up to something, a scheme of the kind he often used to save them many times before. They respected his opinions allowing him to treat you kindly so they wouldn't have to do it themselves. Agamemnon suspected he wanted to make you talk for them, but nothing you were saying was of any importance for him.
The trickster king was deceiving them, making them suspect a deeper reason for his comfort of the unlucky, but beautifull princess. To some extent, he was even deceiving himself pretending he would only do it because winning your trust could be usefull, yet you had awakened enough curiosity for it to be a bit personal.
After a while, it became obvious that you enjoyed the company of the smartest leader arround. He was a smoother, more interesting talker than the pigs surrounding you. If you would have been in front of your father's table instead, he would have easily enraptured all the attention of your relatives as he had gained yours. Odysseus ruled a kingdom of poor sailors, but he had travelled everywhere, and he gave you a good moment sharing some of his stories. During the hours he spent there that night, you were able to escape from your sadness even at the moments he wasn't paying direct attention to you.
If that dinner would have taken place in Troy, Paris would have teased you for staring at him for too long while Hector would have scolded you both and warned that significally older man to stay away from you. That was fun to imagine, but you had to remind yourself that he was still your enemy. Perhaps the most dangerous, for how well spoken and handsome he appeared to you. Harder to hate, specially because you couldn't take your eyes off him.
Before leaving to get rest in his own tent, his farewell to you was a kiss on your knuckes that showed he still respected you as a princess. It made you blush furiously, mostly because you thought that kind of consideration was lost to you arround greeks.
Menelaus noticed your reaction and, as his brother accompanied the king outside, let you know of that.
" Turns out you do like older men." He commented, in a falsely cassual tone. " Is that how your brother got my wife to spread her legs for him, or only his looks did the work?"
Everything he said was always so repulsive, you seriously couldn't imagine how Helen managed to stay by his side for so long.
" You are not bad looking, for a man of your age. Neither is your brother ... You are just horrible people. " Was your honest reply. " Paris has seduced married women everywhere, but all the others stayed with their husbands because they gave them reasons. Fear of death was all Helen had with you, and when she lost it, she left. "
The answer surprised him, perhaps because your explanation of what happened resembled nothing he had ever heard.
" You have a strange wisdown, hard to explain in such young girl. I'm hearing you speak so lightly of things I never cared to see. " He oddly praised you, then sipped more of his wine. " When I was a child, our mother cheated on our father with our uncle. Agamemnon, being the eldest, had more awareness of what was happening. Ask him about what Atreus did to the cheaters and you will find out we are not so horrible. "
" Being less horrible than your father is not the great, comforting excuse you think it is. " You warned him in return. " A good man would have came here peacefully, presented his complaint in the city's council, and maybe ask for a private talk with his wife offering her actual reasons that could make her want to go back home. You are an evil man posing as a victim, and your thirst for vengeance will bring your doom. "
Dark chucking interrumpted you, Agamemnon was back inside.
" Nobody told us the princess of Troy was a seer! " He mocked you. " I have another prophecy for you: tomorrow, I will take over your city and my brother will kill yours. "
" You don't know Hector, or how far he can go to protect his family." You insisted one last time. " Your brother is a fool, he will get himself killed trying to kill Paris. "
" Hector is a man of honor. " Menelaus pointed out. " He will understand that Paris had to die."
You directed him a cold look, as if life would have started to abandon him.
" His honor won't protect you from his rage of brother. "
It was the last time you spoke to him, and the last moment you saw him alive. Exactly as you warned, the king perished by the hand of Hector, who saved Paris while he was begging for his life. You never imagined it would happen so fast, because you weren't prophetizing. Knowing your family so well made you suspect it would be a matter of time untill the rage of Menelaus would be forever stopped by your protective eldest brother.
Still, they weren't there to save you from the rage of brother displayed by the mycenaean king. You were all he had to damage Hector, since even the result of the battle turned against him. The only pain he could inflict on him that night was hurting you, but he decided he wasn't going to be the man doing it.
Odysseus noticed your absense on the tent during the gathering of the war council, at first thinking it was due to the needed secrecy that the discussion of strategy required.
" Where is she? "
The answer Agamemnon had for him overpassed any expected cruelty coming from him.
" I gave her to the men ... They need some amusement after today. "
Careless for the thoughts of anyone else on that meeting, he stormed out searching for you. It was clear that the King of Kings wanted to unleash over you a vengeance even worse than the one Menelaus considered before.
More humilliating than warming the bed of a king was becoming the whore of his troops.
Odysseus was guided by the sound of the complict mocks of the very same men who one day before observed you as some unattainable luxury item. Temporally forgetting their looses, they were cheerfully bragging on how they were about to feast on you.
Despite you presented a good fight, they were too many. Their hands roaming you with desperation and trying to tear your clothes off in the process.
" STOP, YOU FOOLS! " The strong voice of the King of Ithaca interrupted the horrible scene. " YOUR KING HAS SENT YOU TO DO HIS VENGEANCE FOR HIM BECAUSE HE KNOWS THAT WHOEVER TOUCHES HER WILL BE A DEAD MAN! "
A few of them reacted, but two were still holding you and Odysseus spoke directly to them.
" Do you even know who this woman is? " He warned them. " She is the Princess of Troy! Do you want to be the next ones Hector will slaughter ? LOOK AT WHAT HE DID TO US TODAY JUST TO SAVE HIS COWARD BROTHER! He killed Menelaus, he broke the pact ... Imagine what he would do to you for raping his sister. "
They tossed you to the ground, sudden fear making them act as if they would have just heard a deathly curse had spread among them.
When Odysseus picked you up, you had no more tears left to cry. Or at least you believed so, untill you clinged to him as if your life depended on it.
He took you to his small tent in the little corner of the greek camp he ruled. His own men seemed weirded by the sudden arrival, but followed his orders of not disturbing you.
Your spirits were even more broken than your body, and the safety you temporally found in him made it hard for you to separate. He understood it, and craddled you by the fire while silently hearing your sobbing.
" He is a monster. " You were saying between your crying. " He did this to me in honor of his brother. "
He guessed it, and he cursed himself for not thinking ahead of him.
" Honor? There is no honor in any of this." He commented in a comforting tone, caressing the top of your head. " Don't worry, beautifull. You are safe now."
He inmediately regretted to have adressed you in a way that could be very uncomfortable after what you have gone through, despite he didn't mean it in the same way of your attackers.
" I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have ... "
You raised your face so your eyes would find his for the first time since the arrival.
" It's allright, I know. " You calmed him, tears still flowing. " Crazy, isn't it? When you say it I don't feel the danger. "
Softer by the blow, burning slowly, but the fire in your eyes was still there.
" How does it make you feel? "
Despite the pain, you still had a shy smile for him.
" Good, but strange ... I never felt like that before. "
As if you attempted to thank him with the only thing you judged a man would want from you in that hole of doom, you gave him a rushed peck on the lips.
" Thank you for saving me, you are a man of honor. "
Even hurt as you were, he found you beautiful to the point of cruelty. The brush of your soft lips made him tremble, but he replied with a chaste kiss on the top of your forehead.
" No need for rewards, princess. I did what i had to do. "
Noticing that you were finaly calm, he stood up and peeked out of the tent to command orders from its entrance.
" Eurylochus! Get this woman the means for a proper bath, she will wash herself. Send some men to roam the camp and find her decent clothes. She is our temporary guest now. If Agamemnon has something to say about that, tell him I would rather expose us to an argument with him than face the rage of Hector ... Understood? "
By the time his attention was back at you, he discovered you already self tending your wounds with water from a basin and the nearest cloth you found.
" Resourceful girl ... Mind if I help you out? "
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