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#wouldn’t be able to receive the gift???
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Yandere Short Stories:
Always Watching, Done Waiting
Yandere Stalker x Terrified Fem Reader
TW: paranoia, psychological horror, STALKING, horror, yandere themes, unhealthy behavior that should never be romanticized, Your STALKER is not attractive
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“Hush, little baby, don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird.” (Your name) wept into her knees when that haunting melody began to echo throughout her home. No doubt from the same radio it had played from countless times before late in the night…
The young woman trembled in the confines of her closet while heavy foot steps echoed down her hall. If she kept herself as small a possible, would (your name) be able to avoid being caught by this psycho?
For months she had been harassed by a mysterious man… a man who would not take no as an answer.
At first it was innocent! It was small bouquets of cheap flowers, the kinds that one could buy at a grocery store for under ten dollars. Then it was boxes of her favorite candies. Simple gifts that once brought her joy since she’s never really received such flattering attention… but then it quickly began to snowball into a darker matter. This was no simple puppy love, this was an obsession.
Notes made from magazine clippings for each letters so he couldn’t be recognized through his handwriting, dozens of intimate pictures of her placed in envelopes, and body parts of the local cats she fed all had littered her doorstep over the last two months. Each ‘present’ inspired dread within (your name).
Then began the break ins, the holes in her walls and ceilings that could fit an eye in there to peep, the notes delivered to her job, the isolation from all of her friends and family, and the paranoia. There was not a single place that felt safe to her any longer… and the police wouldn’t help since her stalker had never done anything to harm her.
What on earth could he possibly want from her? Her first born? Maybe he wanted to harvest her organs and sell them on the black market? No… even someone as dense as a rock knew this stalker was utterly obsessed.
“And if that mockingbird don't sing, Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring.”
The nursery rhyme continued to echo down her hall as her pursuer continued to explore her home with agonizing slow steps. (Your name) had gotten rid of her spare key so how was he able to get in? Had he been staying here prior? God, she didn’t want to think about what this sicko was capable of.
Creak!
(Your name) silently scooted herself into the corner of her closet when she heard her bedroom door creak open. The young woman placed her hands over her mouth to prevent any noise from escaping despite the desire to scream. Hot tears fell down her cheeks, her body trembled like she was in below freezing temperatures. Oh god… she was about to die.
And that’s when the door was swung open to reveal a greasy man around her age. His dark hair greasy and his face covered in stubble and acne scars. (Your name) had seen this man before… he was the guy she gave a few sandwiches to last year! He was so drunk and lost, she felt bad for him… oh god. Was that small act of kindness her catalyst to her fate?
“My darling girlfriend!” The man bent down in front of her and set the radio beside him. His hands snatched hers up in a tight grip. He brought her knuckles up to his chapped lips to press kisses on them. “You’re so skittish… it’s just me!”
“W-who are you?” The man threw back his head and laughed before he gave her a small smile.
“It’s me, silly. Malachi? Your boyfriend of a year?” (Your name) remained as still as stone. A million thoughts ran through her head while this mad man continued to ramble. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to fetch you sooner but money has been tight.”
(Your name) was suddenly pulled into a hug, the young woman tried her best not to gag from the heavy scent of musk and cigarettes that permeated from Malachi. “It was hard to stop drinking, but you were worth it! You were always so kind to me with your pretty smile and your sandwiches… I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you!”
“W-what-“ (your name) nearly fainted when her eyes met his crazed blue ones. How could someone hold so much emotion in their eyes?
“I got my life together and I found a nice place for us… it’s perfect!” Malachi pressed his nose against hers. “It’s away from all of the weird men that harass you in the convenience store and away from all those nasty animals. It’ll be our little safe haven!”
(Your name) snapped out of her stupor when he said that. She had to get away… she needed to run!
The young woman tried to pull away from Malachi but his grip on her was stronger than an anacondas.
“I know it’s a really big step, but it’s been a year now! And I’m tired of waiting for us to take bigger steps! I know you liked my gifts! You never threw any of them away!” Because she needed evidence to give to the police! The same people who wouldn’t protect her…
(Your name) gulped when she felt Malachi press his hips into hers. Something large pressed against her that made her stomach drop. “I’ve been watching you for so long… and I’m done waiting.”
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izak-gov · 3 days
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10 Facts about Ángel
all credit to the incredible @the-whispers-of-death for the template/ layout (?) of this idea !!
⁰¹ Ángel is the biggest foodie ever, his relationship with food is so strong & his love language is making food for others. You could be in a completely different place (country, town etc) and say you’re hungry and he’ll be listing the different restaurants in a 15 minute radius.
⁰² Will always put family first, always. His mother and his daughter are the most important things in his life, and Lilia was the reason he left the special forces when he was 26- because he didn’t want to leave her to grow up without a father like he’d done. He regularly sees his mother and always brings her little baked goods <3
⁰³ He grew up in a superstitious household and is a firm believer of different folklore & myths- when he was younger he had a fear of rivers after his mother told him the story of La Llonora; now that he is older, he’s less afraid of them but he’s still wary.
⁰⁴ In Shadow Company he doesn’t use a callsign, though he’s fine with being called by the one he received whilst serving in the Mexican Special Forces- ‘Viper’. Unfortunately, the callsign wasn’t a testament to his skills but rather a result of a drunken night out where Ángel swore that there was a rattlesnake in his barracks, but after about an hour, it ended up just being a pair of socks and another soldier snoring.
⁰⁵ He genuinely enjoys learning languages (could not be me) and he currently speaks 4! Spanish was obviously easiest as it’s his first language, and portugese was easy enough for him to pick up as it is so similar. He learned English for the military and he learned Italian to impress someone who he thought was hot, he’s very passionate LOL.
⁰⁶ He’s actually very healthy in terms of coping mechanisms (i’m looking at you, cujo & bärchen) but if he ever does get bad he will stress clean and cook. Once after a prolonged medical leave, he got overwhelmed with the change & disruption to his normal routine and ended up gutting his whole house and cooked enough food to feed his entire street.
⁰⁷ When he was younger he really wanted to be an artist, he was talented for his age but when he was a teenager he had to accept that it wouldn’t actually be able to take him anywhere and he stopped to focus on more important things, like getting a good education.
⁰⁸ When he’s deployed, he sends Lilia letters and small gifts from the places he’s been. The letters are always very detailed and have little pictures and drawings of different things he’s seen that he thinks she’ll find interesting- this ranges from a dog in a bush to a pretty flower he saw.
⁰⁹ One of Ángel’s biggest fears is dying, but in the case of what he’s not done and what he’d be leaving behind. When Ángel almost died at 25 (after getting shot in the shoulder), his only thought was Lilia and his mother. Ángel was only 15 when his own father was killed, and he remembered how painful it was- he didn’t want Lilia to go through it, or for his mother to go through it again.
¹⁰ He adopted a stray cat off the street, and even though he told his mother that Lily begged him to- he was just as eager. The cat was dubbed ‘pozole’ by his mother because she threatened to turn it into stew, but Poz has grown on her now <3 Ángel says that when he’s away he misses Pozole more than Lily, and he’s only haaalf joking.
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nick-close · 1 year
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I will say I had a dndads dream last night where the dads anchors were represented by rooms rather than objects which was very cool.
Glenn’s was basically a big toy room- signifying holding onto the past and an inability to grow up.. and he went on a magic carpet with ‘Morgan’ (who wasn’t real)- and while all the other dads got attacked by shit in the room, the fact he clung to his past meant he was allowed to just vibe there. But the dads got to the door and needed Glenn and insisted he had to come- and eventually Glenn caused so much shit he followed them, handing them each a candy he grabbed along the way.
That lead them into Ron’s room. Ron’s room was a small music room- pretty much just four beige walls, some chairs, carpet, and two whiteboards that had like. What dream dm Anthony described as ‘sheet music drawn by someone who can’t read sheet music’. There was soft piano in the background. Presumably in this world Ron played music as a kid? There was pretty much nothing else in the room. It was an empty place where his only choice is to stare at the impossible notes he can’t play. I think Willy’s voice came up saying something, but I can’t remember what.
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ducktracy · 2 years
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i really like when porky and sylvester are paired together but i always got the vibe from these cartoons that porky,,,, just isnt a cat person lol like yeah in kitty kornered he does straight up say he hates pussycats. i have a hc that in these cartoons porky never even adopted sylvester he just showed up on porky's doorstep 1 day and never left. i do like chuck jones' take on sylvester also but i can very easily interpret porky in those shorts seeing sylvester as just some guy who follows him around over an actual pet. anyways im glad they returned to the sylvester as porky's pet cat dynamic in the put the cat out segments on looney tunes cartoons
MAYBE… Porky has a history of not being super great with pets to begin with (mainly i think his issue in Kitty Kornered is he doesn’t like being CHALLENGED by his cats, he’s all smiles when putting them to bed but i think the moment they get wise with him THAT’s when he’s like I’LL TEAR ‘EM LIMB FROM LIMB. mainly a personality thing more than the cats BEING cats… i think he just hates being challenged and so when domesticated animals challenge AND OUTSMART HIM it purposefully makes a bit of a bad image for him HAHAHA. guess you could argue Sylvester in the Jones shorts is “challenging” him too even if he WAS in the right and Porky is just being his stubborn little self and thus explaining the aggravation) but the cartoons he does have cats with—Sylvester or otherwise—he treats them a lot better than his dogs who he WILL berate for… just… existing LOL. i’ve been indoctrinating an irl friend into these shorts and we’ve both been poking a lot of fun at how mean he can get with his pets but dogs in particular… poor dogs.
different contexts and all but same director, one year apart LOL.
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CUTE HEADCANON THOUGH YES!!! reminds me of the greatest image in existence, every time i see this it sends me into a fit of laughter for some reason
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SEEING SYLVESTER AS A RANDOM GUY WHO FOLLOWS HIM AROUND WOULD BE… VERY ODD BUT FUNNY LOL another “Goofy vs Pluto” thing i guess. i do love the Porky/Sylvester shorts though and that Sylvester is given a purely domesticated angle. Kitty Kornered is so much fun because it has both angles (we’re led to believe that Sylvester and the gang are all domesticated animals but they immediately launch into a—rather intelligent given the circumstances—scheme to throw Porky out of his own house), but that would be a bit odd in practice to be petting your cat goodnight or something and having him say goodnight back to you HAHAHA.
BUT YES SAME HERE i am VERY excited for more Porky and Sylvester. in spite of my gripes with The Looney Tunes Show i really adore that the pilot had Porky as Sylvester’s owner instead, and even Wabbit/New Looney Tunes had an episode with them that was pretty true to the original Jones format which i love
BUT YEAH, i see him much more as a cat person than a dog person, but i am 99% sure i’m just projecting because i technically own… 10? cats? it’s a long story that i’ll shove into the tags but. i am VERY much a cat person LOL they’re all i’ve known my whole life so i’m probably imparting my bias onto Porky. i just think it’s funny that he’s deemed such a humanoid character that he’s able to OWN any pets to begin with. like… how weird would it be if Daffy owned a pet dog
#okay. CAT STORY TIME#in 2020 we made the mistake of feeding a stray kitten during the winter who we later adopted#so we could get her fixed… she had babies behind our couch 2 weeks later so :’) in June 2021#and then found a family of kittens outside a few weeks later… the mama (a different one) has proceeded to have 3 separate litters#we kept them fed in the winter and built shelters with hay and electric heating pads so they could be safe#and 5 OF THE 7 OUTSIDE KITTIES ARE FIXED!! just gotta nab two more who are a bit more elusive#we can’t take them inside because we already have 3 inside but we have plenty of shelter and water and food for them#and are doing our best to finish fixing them so the outdoor cat population isn’t as high and we make sure they’re well taken care of#i know there’s a lot of discourse about outside cats and stuff and i agree with it but like i always feel the need to explain that we take#very good care of tbem and the cats are still able to hunt and feed for themselves (trust me. we have received many animal carcasses as gift#s from them. we got them fixed with the intent of releasing them and hoping they wouldn’t return… a year later they’re still with us#we have plans to move so we’re going to see if we can try to donate them to a barn cat program because we want to keep them together/don’t#want to separate. they are all VERY close and affectionate and i’ve gotten to pet most of them. we don’t want to split them up#THIS IS PROBABLY NEEDLESSLY LONG BUT LET IT BE A CAUTIONARY TALE DON’T FEED STRAY CATS :’) we basically have our own cat rescue going on#though and it’s very sweet#THIS WHOLE POST IS LONG but i enjoy talking about Porky since he isn’t given a lot of attention by other people i can blather all i want#smokey-kity#long post#asks
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atrwriting · 5 months
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future problems — coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader
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hi everyone :) jumping on the bandwagon
this man is so fine i couldn’t help myself. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday if they celebrate — i celebrate christmas, so here is my almost 10k word christmas gift to all of you xoxo love u all v much thank you for reading !!
as always, warnings: corio-lame-o is a fucking warning holy fuck, smuuuuut, arranged marriage (i think this counts?), coriolanus is a distrustful evil fuck (but he’s super hot), fem!reader, reader is married to this dickhead (i say as if i wouldn’t want to be lmao), angst, sexism and misogyny is def in here, p in v penetration, m receiving oral, choking, dom!corio, asshole!corio, sub!reader, subspace kinda
informal warnings: bro what the fuck was i on this is literally 10.2k words and i refuse to edit because im super lazy anyway we die like men you've been warned
anyways… here is future problems:
he never wanted to get married.
he saw it as a potential problem, one that would most definitely lead to loose ends — and he hated loose ends.
despised them.
however, his innate need to maintain an image was far more important to him. he weighed the costs and benefits in his head like an algorithm — check, check, check. coriolanus’ mind left no stone unturned, especially when future problems were to be squashed before they could ever be wiped from memory. in the end… he decided he would marry.
and it would be you.
he never allowed himself to be naive — so he would never allow himself to marry someone he already loved. lucy gray? a child’s want for something they can’t have, and something they wouldn’t realize until later that it was a walking regret. no — he could never marry someone that would harm him. absolutely not. out of the question. therefore, it had to be you.
it had to be you because what harm would you cause him? you were shy, quiet, of satisfactory social standing, and uncontroversial. everything a patriarch of the snow family would want. deserved. be entitled to.
he needed someone that wouldn’t be a problem — a loose end in the future. he had conquered so much — he refused to let anything else, especially as irrelevant as a significant other, stand in his way.
however… it did not aid him in his stone-cold lack of a love affair conquest that you were absolutely breathtaking.
at first, it was just an ego boost. he simply couldn’t stop his thoughts from voicing, of course she’s perfect. the snow legacy can only have perfect.
but then… oh, then…
then he saw your smile.
oh, your smile.
your fucking smile.
the first time he caught himself enjoying it — he scolded himself. he refused to see you for a week. a punishment of sorts. more so for him than for you. after, he refused to let his eyes wander on the pretty features of your face for him to witness a reaction to something someone had said or done. he didn’t want to be reminded of what it was like to experience joy or peace because someone else was experiencing it — that was what almost costed him everything he had built.
no one would ever tear that down. not again, not ever.
no one.
when the day of your marriage came, it was business as usual. he refused to meet eye contact, and did not partake in more conversations with you than he had to. he could tell you felt uncomfortable — but he forced himself not to care. he drove it down, down, down like a miner drilling for more coal — hoping, one day, it would be worth it.
and it was… until he was sick.
it was a minor ailment — nothing major, but he was on bedrest for about a week or two. he had employed enough adequate members to his staff to feel that things would at least be taken care of until then. he also found comfort in the fact that two weeks was not long enough for something irreversible to occur. if a problem had taken placed, he would be able to rectify it once he was well and able and… set aside the responsible party.
however, he did not expect one problem.
and that would be you.
he knew you were asking to see him. he knew, he knew, he knew, but he refused to let you in. you were not disrespectful — you had only asked once a day, which happened to be every day in the afternoon. he had picked you specifically because you were too quiet to be annoying. however, his own perfect, pristine, and proper plan had stabbed him in the back. he had never considered that the perfect, pristine, and proper wife would be this dutiful to him, checking in once a day on his condition and to speak with him. despite his illness, he laughed at himself — leave it to him to not expect the expected: the hand-selected dutiful wife would, in fact, be dutiful.
he had to put an end to it. he couldn’t keep saying no for another week. how was he expected to get better if you kept bothering him?
so he let you in. this once. just this once. he reasoned that if he let you in this once, you would be less persistent. just this once — and another problem would cease to plague his mind.
just this once, he chanted in his head. just this once.
he sat up straighter, and attempted to shape his hair so it wasn’t terribly unkept. he reasoned that if you saw him appearing to be healthy, you wouldn’t feel the need to come back. he thought —
but he couldn’t finish the thought.
because you walked in.
smelling like fucking lilacs.
lilacs, of all things. lilacs! not roses, not anything else — lilacs. he did not hate lilacs, but he despised the actual flower. only beautiful for so long before it died and the stench was intolerable. an inconvenience. a nuisance. a guaranteed future problem.
however, when you gifted him with a small smile — you realized why small shows of beauty were so valuable in this world. no one else saw your smile — except for those closest to you. people he hand selected to be around you to prevent future problems. he realized then — he had more control and ownership over your smile than either of you thought.
he was so stunned by your smile he didn’t even notice the tray of tea and cakes in your hand. you took a few steps towards him and he shifted in place.
“i brought your favorites,” you spoke softly. “i know you should rest — i just wanted to ask if there was anything i could do to make your recovery easier.”
“no, thank you,” he replied, voice raspy. “i should be well in a few days.”
you nodded and offered an uneasy smile. his eyes flickered over to how once you had set down the tray on his beside, you slowly wiped the palm of your hands down the front of your dress. your eyes were cast absentmindedly in front of you, on the wall — and he could tell something was plaguing your thoughts.
he then also realized there was a book on the tray, much to his dismay.
“someone had mentioned that this was your favorite author. this was published a few days ago,” you began. “i understand that you have been experiencing headaches, and may find it difficult to read… so i wanted to offer to read aloud for you, in case you found these walls dull.”
you smiled — it was an attempt at a joke. he smiled back, but only to be polite. “today i find myself wanting to sleep. i appreciate your offer.”
you smoothed your hands over your dress once more before nodding and forcing a smile. “i’ll leave you to it, then.”
you did not bid him farewell — and he found himself wondering if he was annoyed or grateful. you simply exited the room, and let the door shut softly behind you.
he scrunched his eyes at the door, swallowing hard.
however, he didn’t understand why.
he had wanted this. the perfect wife — knowing when to take a hint and frankly, fuck off. you had done that, perfectly well — so why was he pissed?
he then found himself glaring angrily at his favorite tea cakes. the swap of sugar for honey, another one of his favorites. his favorite author, a book he was excited to read when he was better. he knew that you hadn’t asked about him — he employed people with the requirement to let him know when you were asking questions. he knew your every outward thought and concern, and sometimes even the ones that weren’t shared aloud because they were so evident on your face.
and then he realized: you noticed things like he noticed things.
however, he knew why he went out of his way to notice things, but why did you?
his jaw clenched as he glared angrily at the wall in front of him. he picked up a tea cake and chewed it aggressively, swallowing it half-intact. he coughed at the barely there food, anger rising further to his flushed cheeks.
he needed to understand how, and he most certainly needed to understand why.
he never went out of his way to get to know you, because he thought he already did. he thought he had you boiled down to one thing, and one thing only: passive. incapable of proving to be any sort of roadblock that was capable of getting in his way. now that he knew you shared something with him, what else was shared? was there something he had to look out for? was there something he missed? was he wrong about you?!
he had to know. he had to.
to do that… he called you back that evening. it was two hours before midnight, and he knew you were awake. despite having separate chambers, he knew your daily schedule. you would be reading at this moment, and he would ask you to read for him.
as if on cue, he heard a soft rapping on the wood of the door. he beckoned you in, and you entered the room. you were clad in a night dress with a matching robe over it, all pink silk. this time, he returned your smile.
"i apologize for the late hour," he spoke. "i hope you had not retired for the night."
you shook your head, your tendrils of perfect hair shaking slightly. "i was reading. i am glad you sent for me — can i get you anything?"
"i was hoping the offer to read for me was still on the table," he rasped. "i find myself unable to sleep."
you blinked once, staring at him. in an instant, a small smile was threatening to overtake your face into a large one. you cast your eyes down to a blushing manner, but his eyes narrowed slightly on your face. what would you get out of reading for him? what we he not seeing? what did he miss?
"of course," you responded. "i have not had a chance to read anything by this author. i am glad i have the chance now."
why. why. why.
he did not show his discontent. he simply rested back against the pillows as you reached for the book on his bedside table. you sat down on a chair on his side, and you crossed your legs. he eyed the small portion of the exposed, soft skin of your legs and wondered if your new ploy would be to try and seduce him. however, you quickly covered your skin with the extra material over your robe and placed the book in your lap. once opened, you read for him.
he was not listening to what you were saying, but he was listening to how you said it. the tone, the enunciation, the pauses, and the speed. he wanted to find some clue as to why you had made it a point to be at his beck and call, and he wanted to see how long the act would last until it dropped.
the act would drop. it always did.
the hour would approach midnight before he found that he could not discern anything from how you were reading aloud. his plan did not yield the results intended, as you had not broken from fulfilling his task for two hours. two hours. you had not stopped out of boredom or exhaustion, nor to talk to him. you were poised, soft, and he hated to admit it... but sweet. he found your voice sweet, and he hated it.
and he fucking hated himself for it.
he needed this to end so he could plan further. out of necessity, he yawned. if you were to apt at picking up clues, then hopefully you would believe that he was finally tired. you had succeeded in his given task, and you were free to go.
but you had kept reading for him.
he grew angry.
when you had paused to breathe, he spoke up. "I think i am able to sleep now. thank you, sweetheart, for indulging me."
your eyeline raised with your eyebrows, almost out of surprise. you either were not expecting him to ask you to stop, or you did not want to stop. he wondered which, and if that would answer his ultimate question.
"my apologies, i should've inquired sooner," you replied. "he is a very talented writer... i found myself enjoying his perspective."
you grabbed a piece or scrap paper from his bedside table, and tucked it in between the pages where you left off.
"most people would fold the corner," he remarked, eyes drifting closed — a show.
you smiled. "i didn't want to ruin the integrity of your book. goodnight, coriolanus."
she left with another smile — and all he was left with was confusion, and rage.
the next morning, he found himself wanting to call you back in for a further rouse interview. he would have if he had a plan in place.
that was the second thing about you that annoyed him: you annoyed him to the point where he wanted to act without a plan in place. a loss of control —which he was highly against.
that would have to be righted immediately.
he spent the morning reading the pages that you had already read to brief himself as if he was listening last night. he reasoned with himself that the best course of action would be to ask you to read to him again to see if you had grown comfortable enough to let a few of your true colors slip.
they always slip.
the sudden task that was presented to him gave him a new bout of energy that he needed to inch closer to recovery. it gave him the push he needed to be closer to walking out of this room and continue to run panem, and he was lost grateful to you for giving it to him — almost. at the moment, you were a problem — and that needed to be corrected. immediately.
he found comfort in control, so he was very content with routines. he had grown accustomed to bracing himself for your check-in in the afternoon. however, it did not come until the approaching hours of the evening had almost descended upon the capitol. he waited, and waited, and waited — so long that he considered asking you to come for himself. the hour would approach dinnertime when you had finally asked about his well-being, and he sent for you.
how dare you ask so late in the day, as if you didn't care? he allowed you access to his life that he had denied you for so long, and you return his kindness with carelessness? this would not do. this most certainly would not do.
you had knocked on his door, and he had to stop himself from sounding to eager. he permitted you entry, and you entered with the same soft smile.
"good evening," you greeted.
"hello," he replied, voice still raspy from his sickness.
"I wanted to ask if you need anything," you announced.
he offered a small smile. "i enjoyed our time last night. perhaps you would read for me, again?"
your eyes fell to the floor in a blush. "of course. I was hoping to read more of the book eventually. i found it intriguing."
you sat down in the chair and pulled the book in your lap. as you were opening it, he spoke, "i thought when you had not checked-in in the early afternoon you found the book dull — afraid i would ask for you to read it for me again."
you shook your head as you smiled. "i like his writing very much — i was concerned as to whether i had prevented you from sleeping the night prior, and didn't want to disturb you further."
he swallowed. "why would you have disturbed me?"
your eyes glanced upwards from the pages to rest on his face. coriolanus stared back as slight concern washed over your features, making your lips part and your eyes widen. your tongue darted out from between your lips, and smoothed over the skin of your bottom lip. you responded, "before you fell ill, we hadn't spent much time together and i understand that is because of your position — but, to be frank, i wanted to respect your space.”
your answer perplexed coriolanus. he wanted to find out what type of person you were — and your answers were not yielding the expected results. there was no obvious form of manipulation in your words, which then worried him. were you smarter than he believed you to be? were you as cunning as him? more so?
so he went with what was natural: manipulation.
“i apologize my station has not granted us the freedom to get to know each other further,” he replied, holding your gaze. “it is a regret of mine.”
you smiled in an affirmative manner, like you didn’t believe him but accepted his answer anyway. this expression arose the same feelings he now detested your presence for: he acted without calculating his actions and the outcome they would produce.
“what troubles you?” he asked.
your lips parted and slightly quivered. you were not expecting him to ask.
“i-i was worried that i may not… please you,” you admitted. “that… you may regret our union.”
“you have been a kind and dutiful wife,” coriolanus spoke, eyes holding yours. “there is no regret.”
there was that affirmative smile again. he found himself hating it — wishing it would be replaced by the warm, soft one.
“i guess i was hoping that, when i was married, the marriage would be more than… a union.”
your candor shocked coriolanus. he would never have expected you to say something… so out of turn.
“please, forgive me,” you spoke, slightly laughing and waving your hand in the air. “the hour is almost late and i was hoping to read more. do you still wish me to?”
“please,” he answered and nodded.
you gave him a quick, thankful smile, and began reading.
this would be the second night coriolanus had not listened to a word you had said.
he had gotten his answer, and it was possibly as bad as the one he was actually afraid for.
you were good. pure, innocent, and your outlook on the world untainted. you were not striving to find a loose screw and let the empire fall. you wanted… to support the man who built and kept the empire together. it was worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined — you actually cared for him.
you cared for him, and now coriolanus snow was fucking terrified.
and yet... he had asked you to return to his chambers every night after that.
for research purposes, of course. only research purposes,
to read to him, but his goal was to learn more about you rather than the text.
you would sit there and read until he asked you to stop. when he did, you would close the book, smile at him, place it back on his nightstand, and bid him goodnight.
after, he would wrestle with the blankets and pillows in order to find out how to deal with this.
how had he not expected this?
his only fault was that he neglected to realize how far your shyness would go. you had grown comfortable with him — and you admitted that you wanted something more, something he always felt he could not give. you weren’t shy — you just weren’t open with people you weren’t comfortable with.
he should’ve known. he should’ve. fucking. known.
he didn’t know how to deal with this, if he was being honest with himself.
he told himself that he asked for you every evening to get to know you better, for his own sanity and safety; but then he began to realize he had found out everything he needed to know.
good and honest. how fucking unfortunate.
he saw a part of you, but now he needed to know more.
so what did he do? he sent you flowers. flowers. an arrangement of red roses and lilacs.
he hated himself for the lilacs.
he got somewhere with you when he had made the first move before — maybe this would yield more promising results.
however, it didn’t.
all he received in return was an extra tray of food that had arrived in the afternoon. his favorite tea cakes, and a handwritten thank-you note detailed in your appreciation for the beautiful flowers. you signed your name, and that was it.
she doesn’t make first moves, he thought. she responds to them.
he knew what he had to do.
he found himself feeling better that day — well enough to end his sick leave and return to his matters. dinner was approaching, and he sent for you to join him for a private dinner this evening.
he was washed, dressed, and coiffed within the hour.
he found you in the dining parlor waiting for him, inspecting his large bookcase. you were trying to reach a book a bit above where your height would allow, extending yourself onto your toes. coriolanus walked up behind you, towering over you, and retrieved the book for you.
you glanced up at him with wide eyes. “thank you, coriolanus.”
“what intrigued you?” he asked, grinning softly.
“first one i couldn’t reach. i was working my way up.” you smiled at him, and then the book. “please — you must be hungry. let us eat.”
you sat down at the table across from him. dinner manners were rather stiff and uncomfortable, but your upbringing that was similar to coriolanus’ prevented you from straying from them. you ate in silence for a few moments before you spoke.
“how do you like his new book?” you asked.
coriolanus cleared his throat. “i find it riveting. i wouldn’t have been able to read it for some time if it hadn’t been for you.”
you smiled at your plate, blushing. “his points are very interesting. i was never very interested in politics — so the insight of someone so heavily involved with them is very informative. do you find that your opinions align with his? or does he not share your perspective?”
he appreciated your willingness to engage with him about topics you weren’t very fond of. an underrated trait, not found very often — he had to admit.
“a bit of both,” he responded. “the one thing he does not discuss is how important it is to have a certain type of person or persons in your regime that allows the flow of success to continue.”
you nodded. “you have built a strong administration — i’m sure he would admire what you have to say.”
“what do you believe?” he asked. “about partnerships?”
you swallowed, contemplating your answer. “i think… a successful partnership is where everyone is complimented by another. for instance, someone is better at briefing documents rather than the presentation of them, and another is the opposite.”
“which one are you?” coriolanus inquired.
you paused once more, folding your lip under. he realized that was a sign you were uncomfortable — unaware of how to proceed. after a moment, you answered, “i feel the most confident under a strong leader. i prefer to be behind the scenes. minute details are easier to be taken care of that way. while you and i are different, i respect you for being the strong leader panem needed. i am sure the majority would agree with me.”
now was the time.
“it is easy to be strong when one’s wife makes sure they are well,” he replied, eyes resting on your face. “i hope you know i appreciate your willingness to accept change and make sure needs are met.”
you smiled at him once more, then turned back to your food.
damn, he thought. didnt bite.
“and for being the companion i… didn’t think i would come to enjoy the company of,” he added.
you glanced up at him then, astonishment written in your eyes as plain as the words on the paper you read for him every night. “may i ask you… a question?”
he nodded.
“did you believe you wouldn’t enjoy my company before, or after you had first met me?”
“i don’t understand.”
you swallowed, clearing your throat. “were you… wary of the idea of marriage, or wary of me?”
your gaze did not break from his. you were braver than he thought.
“marriage,” he answered honestly, hoping to witness your reaction.
there was the affirmative smile — the one he hated. “thank you for — for being honest.”
your eyes didn’t wait for a response. you turned back to your food, and left him dumbstruck.
“i hope i have not displeased you,” he stated.
“no, coriolanus,” you spoke. “if i am being honest… i was wary i would not be suitable for you. if i have not displeased you, then i am well.”
“but you stated you wanted more,” he countered, tone even.
“i hoped we would… spend time together,” you answered. “and we have.”
it was coriolanus’ turn to be at a loss for words. what would this admission relay? it only solidified what he was afraid of — you wanted a marriage filled of love, and he was not prepared for that. ever.
“the flowers were beautiful,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “thank you for sending them.”
“your lilac perfume is a wonderful addition to the capitol,” he spoke, unsure where this had come from. “i wanted you to know that.”
you weren't supposed to say that you weren't supposed to tell the truth you weren't supposed
you smiled at him appreciatively, that accompanied a slight twinkle in your eye. you were quick to return to eating, but coriolanus couldn’t stop staring at your face. he realized then that was his new favorite smile.
there was a moment, a small moment, where he wondered whether it would be such a crime if he did allow himself to enjoy your company more than he had. in that moment, he couldn’t think of how it would go wrong. for that moment, you were a simple, low-maintenance, beautiful woman on the other side of the table with him that just liked spending time with him — and he enjoyed that you weren’t a problem. would it so bad if he entertained the idea?
he immediately cut himself off. of course it was a bad idea.
once dinner has finished, he had requested to walk you back your chambers. if time spent together was what kept you at bay, he could manage that. he most certainly could.
when the pair of you had approached the door, you stopped for a moment and paused reaching for the handle. you spoke, “would you… like to come in?”
“not tonight,” he rasped. he gave you a polite smile. “another time.”
he watched as you blinked your eyes a few times and your lips quivered. you didn’t meet his gaze, for it fell — in what appeared to be embarrassment.
oh.
you invited him in to… to…
that he had not expected.
before you had the chance to leave, he swooped down and grabbed your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he pressed his lips to yours ever so softly, holding it there. the moment your breath caught in your throat, there was a strange feeling inside his chest that made him feel like he’d like to quell your worries by catching you off guard another time. and another. and another. and another. he couldn’t have you feeling rejected, no — not when he didn’t want to reject you. he needed heirs, sure — but they could wait. he would contemplate how long later.
once he pulled back, you smiled. inside you were bursting, and you wanted to hurry behind a closed door so he could not see your reaction. he continued to hold your chin and gaze at your face. feeling brave, you looked him in the eye as you bid him goodnight and went into your room.
you left him standing outside your door, facing its wood paneling.
what was he to do?
he wanted to keep you as emotionally far away as possible to avoid anything like this occurring. he was prepared for people who had an ulterior motive… not a young woman who only wanted to be good to her husband.
the worst part was… not every part of him wanted him to keep you away.
would it be so bad, if he had actually courted you?
you were not anyone from his past, no. you were not irresponsible and impulsive, and you could be trusted to remain within a designated role and space. you were rarely outspoken — you never strayed from your cue cards, nor did you get smart in private. you never spoke out of turn, which coriolanus always knew — this was just the first time he was more turned on than he was just grateful.
he reasoned a reward was in order.
he found his knuckles wrapping on the door before he could stop himself.
the small movements inside your apartments stalled for a moment, pulled taut like a string in an instrument. he could picture you — standing still and silent, waiting for an explanation.
then he heard footsteps approaching the door before the door handle turned. when you opened the door, the first thing he saw was your eyes.
those big, beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise — and the slightest bit of hope. coriolanus would most likely try to convince himself that he stayed completely still to exercise a form of control over you — but deep down, he would never be able to believe that completely.
however… when you reached out with your soft, delicate hand, and pulled at his own — it didn’t matter why he did it, because he won.
he shut the door behind him, keeping your gaze.
“i would be coy and ask if we could spend time together in a... different way than usual…” you began, sighing. “but up until this moment i was convinced we would never…”
coriolanus was in no mood to quell insecurities and anxieties. he understood that words could not compare to actions, and so he would do just that.
coriolanus stepped forward, and pressed his large hands against the sides of your face. for a split moment — you almost looked terrified. he usually relished in that look from others, but with you it only made him concerned — angry, even.
“i don’t know what it is about you.” his voice was shaky. it was the first moment in your entire marriage that coriolanus had shown even a shred of weakness. “you smile, you obey, you take my transgressions like they’re fucking sweets. why?! tell me!”
your big, round eyes were blown wide as your brow was knitted together. your lips were parted in an innocent manner, and it only fueled his anger. one of your hands came up to gently lay across the back of his. “coriolanus — have you ever considered that i just wanted to get to know you?”
his eyes searched yours like they were an important document and he couldn’t believe what bullshit he was reading. his lips pursed in a manner that suggested a sour taste, and you felt your joy slipping, slipping, and slipping.
“coriolanus — if you want to go, then go.” your voice was breaking. you knew he was a cool, hard man — but this? this? it was almost too much. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t —“
he couldn’t take your nonsense anymore. he shut you up with a kiss.
he smashed your lips together like it was the first thing he should’ve done when he walked back into the room. a squeal died in your throat at the contact, but coriolanus held you there and upright. both of your hands found the firmness of his chest for balance. when he pulled away — he barely did. he kept his lips an inch away from yours as little tuffs of air pushed past. he leaned his forehead against yours, almost bonding the two of you.
“my greatest displeasure will be making you regret this,” he rasped, eyes screwed shut.
your breathing began to hasten as you contemplated your next words. you began to stroke coriolanus’ hands with your thumbs, hoping to coax him. “you say that like it’s inevitable.”
“it is not far from,” he choked through anger and sadness.
you couldn’t help but stare back at him as he almost glared at you — but then you realized that wasn’t the case. he wasn’t glaring at you — he was glaring through you. whatever traumatized him, whatever made him so distrustful of the world around him and the people in it… you realized then that you represented all of that to him. you had to be different. you had to show him that you were different than all of that.
“i’ve trusted you,” you whispered, almost pleading. “i would like for you to try and trust me. please, coriolanus… i’ve never asked you for anything — just this once —“
coriolanus shook his head, dismissing you. “it’s corio.”
he slammed his lips to yours. his kiss was that of a fight; burning with every cut of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness in his soul. you weren’t sure if he accounted for your inexperience, but you let him lead as you swallowed all of his suffering. you knew you may never be everything you wanted to be for him — but for this moment, or for whatever he would allow — you could be his escape, and he could be yours.
just this once, you both thought. just this once.
his hands were on both sides of your face, caging you in as you were at the mercy of his bittersweet affection. you tried to keep up with him, almost afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him — but corio didn’t care. he couldn’t have cared less as he backed you into the foot of the bed. he didn’t stop kissing you as the back of your legs hit your soft mattress, and you were forced to sit down.
with his tongue tangling with yours, you managed to lift your hands to the top buttons of his shirt. he batted your hands away and went to work on his own buttons. you reached behind for your zipper to your dress and attempted to undue it.
corio then pushed your hands away with that too — ripping the zipper down its track and pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.
“corio —“ you gasped through the kiss, struggling to keep up with him.
he pulled away for a short moment, staring into your eyes. “i have denied myself being with you for so long — nothing is stopping me now.”
he held the glare, and you could only stare back at him in fright. however, that was when you realized that he had felt the same way, or at least similar — you both wanted each other, and had been scared to approach the other. your heart filled with warmth, threatening to explode, but all you could do was nod.
he seemed to calm down then, glancing down towards your lips where he prodded your bottom lip with the tip of his numb. “i have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss my perfect wife — and now that i know, i don’t think i’ll ever give it up.”
you smiled at that. “can i tell you what i have been wondering?”
his eyes met yours once more, almost a warning. you didn’t falter, though. he replied, “yes?”
“i’ve wondered what it would be like to please you,” you spoke softly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks.
his flat look broke then, softening. a smirk greeted his features and you could see his confidence in himself rise. “my lovely wife wants to please me?”
“yes,” you spoke, holding your breath. “if you’ll let me.”
bright and striking, flames of mischief came to light in his irises. emotions of excitement and fear rose within you, and you weren’t sure which was stronger. all you could do was watch as your strong, powerful, larger than life husband stood over you, chin raised, looking down his nose at you, as he unbuckled his belt. his pants and briefs, once around his ankles, were discarded — but you didn’t see that. you couldn’t look away from his eyes — holding you, and your gaze, in place.
it was like you were an enemy he was testing. you didn’t know what he expected, let alone what would make him happy — but you hoped his expectations were slightly lower in light of your inexperience. you swallowed the hard rock of nervousness in your throat, stood up, and gestured for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. he raised an eyebrow at you, but complied. you sat down on your knees in between his, and waited patiently for direction.
“can you…” you began. “can you teach me?”
he smirked once more. “take me in your hand.”
you bent your head lower, and grabbed him by the base. he was hard and warm in your hand as you saw him trying to fight the twitching feeling in his limbs. his muscles were tight, afraid to show weakness. you grew uncomfortable — you didn’t want him weak, but you did want him to feel comfortable enough with you to enjoy a fucking blowjob.
holding his muscle upright, you stuck your tongue out and licked around the tip of his cock. he was salty, but smelled so masculine after a long day. his scent infiltrated all of your senses and had captured your attention. it made you hungry, greedy — so much so that you closed your lips around his cock and began to suck.
he jumped then. “teeth,” he spat.
you paled in embarrassment and fright — but didn’t allow your fear to show for long. you adjusted your tongue and lips — so that your top lip was folded under your top set, and your outstretched tongue covered your bottom set. hollowing out your cheeks, you took him into your mouth once more.
a low hum filled his chest.
you couldn’t see him, and could barely hear him — corio was being a selfish lover and not letting you know whether or not he was enjoying himself. he told you once before you were doing something wrong, so you tried to trust that he would tell you.
that was easier said than done, frankly. with your free hand, you reached up and began to massage his sack in the soft skin of your palm. the hum in his chest turned deeper and louder, and you felt his hips twitch once.
maybe it shouldn't have mattered that he wasn't vocal — but it wasn't like he was shy. you would not fault him for not doing something he didn't want to do, but it was like he was denying you that. if you were making him feel good, and he was fighting the volume of his moans — how fucking dare he deny you of that! there you were, constantly at his beck and call, and he couldn't even freely moan with you? you were obedient, quiet, grateful, everything he wanted — but this? this? too much. absolutely too much of an ask.
you had to do something.
"mr. president," you cooed, twisting your soft tongue around the tip of his cock. "you're awfully quiet above me."
he let out a laugh as he struggled to keep his composure. one of hands found the back of your head as his fingers struggled to tangle themselves in between your strands. they were tugging and pulling, but there was no strength in his grip. his grip — wouldn't catch. couldn't catch. corio, you husband — struggled day in and day out to keep the control in the capital and inside his castle. there was a part of you that believed he just needed to let go, let someone else be in control — but you were his pretty little wife after all. you had until death to try everything. losing control could wait, because tonight... tonight was about making corio the grateful one for once.
you let your loose grip run circles up and down the length of his cock. his shaft was wet and thick, begging the attention of the light from above so the skin was able to glisten. the tip of his cock, red and angry, almost neglected — never had you seen something so delicious, nor deserving of affection. your lips, swollen, wrapped themselves around the tip of his cock as you sucked. notes of salt and sweat mixed together on your tongue, and you hummed at the taste.
"taste sweet, mrs. snow?" you heard from above you. your eyes glanced up to find corio's eyes glazed over with pleasure. his eyelids were drooping over, and all you could think about how badly you wanted to make him close his eyes in bliss. your eyes watched his eyes, but his eyes watched the way your mouth sucked him in. "being so good for me. let your husband see what else you can do."
your ears perked in interest. you didn't know what he meant, but you were intrigued to see if he would teach you.
"please... show me what you like," you spoke, extending your neck as he lowered his face to yours.
"so eager to please..." he spoke, staring down at you in awe. his hand slid down for your scalp to cup your cheek. he looked into your eyes like he was studying you — searching for something surface level. a flaw, or something good... you weren't sure. "i suppose some would say i'm lucky."
you didn't like the sound of that... but you didn't let it show. you gave him a hint of a smile. "i don't think it matters what anyone else thinks. i think what matters is you telling me what you like... so you can decide if you're lucky or not."
he chuckled at that, but his laugh was reserved. always holding back, your husband. "you really want to be a good little wife for me... don't you?"
you fell into the strength behind the hand on your face and keened into his touch. his hand was warm against your skin. "please, corio... please let me."
he stood then, and your gaze raised with his body. you gazed up at him as he stared down at you. there his eyes went again — searching yours. he stood closer to you then, bending down slightly. "it would please me if, at any point, you told me to stop because of the pain. i don't want to hurt you." his voice was low and soft then, immediately striking you. "can i trust you to do that? hmm?"
"i'll tell you," you replied, nodding your head. "i promise."
"never break a promise you make to me," he warned.
you nodded your head once more, unsure how to proceed. he led you over to the side of the bed where he gestured for your to lie down. with the passing of time, you became more and more aware of how bare you both were in front of each other. you were ready to let down every fence of insecurity for the man before you... but there were still walls of his that threatened to come down. he was hot and cold every other moment, it seemed... and you weren’t even sure where to begin.
“husband,” you spoke, unsteadily, as he found his place between his legs. “you seem so… distrustful of me. what can i do? please, corio, i just want this moment to be special for us — for you.”
there his eyes went — searching yours again. it was like he was rereading a page in a book over and over, hoping to find the hidden message in the black and white scripture. his eyes, going back and forth, appeared to be looking over unclear smudges and scribbles as his lips began to purse. you almost said something — stopped him from withdrawing into himself, but he moved before you could.
he sat back against the pillows, which faced a mirror across your bed. you rose curiously, hoping that he would finally give you some direction. he simply took your hand in his, and gestured for you to come closer. “come,” he spoke.
in his lap, maybe? you thought curiously. you went to throw your leg over his, before he stopped you. with a furrowed brow, you watched as he adjusted you so your back laid against his chest.
“do as i say,” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers up and down your spine.
your eyes were cast to the side, his outline in your peripheral vision. you nodded, letting your lips fall apart. you felt one of his hands on the soft skin of your thigh, grazing upwards towards your hips. you almost let your eyes fall closed, hoping to lose yourself in the sensations, before corio stopped you.
with that same hand, he reached upwards and grasped your chin between his fingers. your eyes shot open as he moved your head to now face the mirror, and the pair of you in it.
shallow breaths were pushing past your lips as you stared into the mirror. your cheeks were flushed, your hair in a slight disarray, and your lips were swollen. with a flutter of your eyelashes, your gaze flickered towards corio’s reflection. your husband was always perfect — so even the slight persuasion from tidiness was a remarkable sight to you. his eyes were focused — unable to remain cool, calm, and collected as usual.
his eyes, you thought. his eyes will always tell me.
“you will watch,” corio spoke suddenly, voice hard. “you will keep your eyes on my hands. you stray, and i leave. understand?”
you nodded, looking into his eyes through the mirror.
he cocked an eyebrow.
“yes,” you spoke, almost breathless. “i understand.”
corio’s hand then found its way to your center. the tips of his finger tips, soft and hot, lightly drew a line up and down your slit. your eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror — focused on his fingertips. it was like your skin knew every correct button to tap, tap, tap. every part of you was so sensitive, so keen to his touch that you were embarrassed. you felt so pathetic against his chest, bent to his will — but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. the voice in your head was whining and hoping you would give in, just give in, let down your guard, give in, forget manners. you wanted to keep your composure as long as possible, but when corio’s middle finger found your clit…
oh… you were done for.
one of your hands immediately snapped up to find corio’s bicep and clutch onto whatever foundation he could give. you didn’t dare let your eyes meet his, even in the mirror — what if he stopped? what, huh? what then? when you were the closest you had been ever? you couldn’t allow yourself to be greedy, not when he was being oh, so selfless.
the circles he was drawing taunted your ability remain calm. he rolled your tiny clit underneath the weight of the tip of his finger and pressed down with every circle. it pushed, and pulled, and fucking pried at every fiber of your being. you could only force yourself up and back against corio, whining like a pathetic mess.
“running away from me, my sweet?” he whispered in your ear. “when i’m being so kind?”
his words bit at your ear, reminding you of your position in his world. your eyes were threatening to drift closed, hoping, praying, that corio would let you slip this once from your responsibilities. naive, you were, to believe that.
“remember our deal, wife,” he darkly cooed in your ear. “one request was all i had. i refuse to be denied it.”
“i know, i know…” you whined, rolling your hips with his hand. “it just feels so good, corio… i’ve never… no one’s ever…”
“i can tell you never knew how bad your body would crave it,” he spoke, nipping at your earlobe. “even your pussy obeys me, drenching my fingers. too sweet for this world, aren’t you?”
“just wanna be sweet for you, corio,” you whined as your vision began to blur.
the approaching orgasm was anything but a warm and fuzzy feeling around you. it was hot and jagged — making your muscles jerk, yet force your hips to roll into every movement of corio’s. the cloud over your brain felt like a warm haze of the finest whisky or tobacco the capital could offer. you were numb, drunk, and unable to process the world around you unless it was corio. his touch, his taste, his scent, his look, his orders… everything was setting you off and keeping you in place all at once. your body was hot to the touch, feverish as it tried to fight your sophistication and just fucking —
“that’s it, sweetheart. so focused on the mirror you can’t even find the strength to let go for me,” he spat, pressing a kiss to your cheek and breathing in your scent. “ride my hand like the good girl you are. you wanted to show me, remember?”
tears were brimming your eyes and blurring your vision. your teeth were gritted and bared for him. one of his hands came up to loosely grasp your throat as your hips began to spasm. it was so much, too much, so much —
“corio, please —“ you cried. “please let me look away. i can’t — i have to cry, i can’t —“
there was no softness in his movements against your aching clit. corio had now employed two fingers to dip into your core, collect your slick, and rub it along your sensitive bud in harsh circles. it sent your mind through a suffocating tube and gasping for air. you were begging, pleading — unsure what would happen if you were denied the ability to finish in peace. you began to cry in frustration and fear, so sensitive to the touch and his approval.
“corio…” you whimpered. “please, please let me…”
“do it,” he spat, holding your throat and kissing your face. “show your husband how fucking messy you can be for him.”
you grasped onto him and threw yourself back.
it was like a rollercoaster. twists and turns, yanking your body every which way. corio’s body rocked with yours as the sensations climbed and fit into every single one of your limbs. your lungs, burning, were screaming for air as you tried to fight for consciousness. the world was white, milky, foggy — unable to navigate, let alone exist in. all you could feel was corio’s body moving with yours and coaxing you through the most insane moment of your entire life.
tears fell down your face, and you struggled to conceal it. corio refused to let you hide from him. he bent his face low to yours and pressed the side of his face against the side of yours.
his breaths were heavy, similar to yours.
“corio…” you whimpered, almost whining.
“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed. “so good for me, weren’t you? asking so obediently and politely.”
you nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “i’m sorry that i was —“
“what’re you sorry for?” he demanded.
you clenched your jaw. “i was — i am — i’m worried i was too much — i was so — out of control —“
he shut you up with a kiss. coriolanus snow refused to allow you to continue, or else he knew he would be offended if he had let you finished.
“i wanted that,” he stated. “every bit of that. what, you don’t find it agonizing to be prim and fucking proper every day?”
you laughed uneasily, a bit spooked by his outburst of aggression. “i thought you — i thought that was what you wanted from me.”
he shook his head. “out there — it’s necessary. in here, when it’s only the two of us? don’t ever hide yourself from me. you must promise.”
you swallowed as your haze began to disappear. “only if you promise the same."
you saw his jaw pulse from the corner of your eye. “i promise.”
“i promise,” you returned.
you quickly reconnected your lips. you couldn't let the moment slip away. you needed to seize him while he was there — trusting you for the first time in your entire relationship. you found both of your hands on the side of his face and held him to you. corio fought for control, but you gave in immediately. the need for him to need you was stronger and more satisfying that anything else you could've experienced in that moment. you turned around, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the bed.
everything you were doing was improper: grabbing your husband, forcibly kissing him, sitting in his lap, pushing him down... you almost stopped. you almost gave into the insecurity and made friends with with meekness and shyness once more. however, you made a promise — and you intended to keep it.
"i want you inside me, corio," you whispered against his lips. "please, i want to feel you —"
"again, sweetheart?" he ripped himself from your lips to grunt out his teasing. "one taste, and you're addicted?"
you hummed approval against his lips, tangling your tongue with his. with one hand on the back of your head, holding your face to his, corio's other hand fished between the pair of you and grasped his leaking cock in his hand. the tip was red and swollen, aching for some stimulation or attention. he spread his precum over his tip and with a firm hand, corio slid his cock inside of you.
you arched your back away from corio. the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside of you bent your attention in every which was. both of your hands cradled the back of his head into your chest, where he found himself nestled between your breasts. his breaths were hot and heavy, moist against your skin. his swollen lips found one of your perky nipples and sucked it into his mouth, caving to his primal urges. coriolanus snow wanted every part of you for himself, and needed to place that claim on every part of your body. he wanted your thighs to shake and ache from being locked around him, your fingers to tremble from your hard grip, and he wanted your lips to be bruised from how hard he made you bite them. and, most of all, he wanted every loud moan to rip itself from your aching throat and fill the perfectly painted walls of this damned room.
he cursed you when you threw a hand over your mouth, and he immediately ripped it away. "don't you fucking dare," he spat.
you ignored him. he was your husband, and he was the scariest man you would ever meet, and yet you ignored him. most of all, your hips ignored him. they began to roll against his own the best they could for their inexperience. up, down, and grinding down was the best they could manage before corio grabbed you by the flesh of your hips and moved you to his liking. and when your mouth parted and a loud cry made your throat shake when he twisted your hips forward, he knew he found the spot.
"do not ever deny me what i am owed," he spat, fucking into that spot that wrapped a tight band around your abdomen. "i want to hear how good i am making you feel, and i will. i get to hear. those are mine. i am owed those."
again, you ignored him. what did he expect when your eyes began to roll back into your head and you began to match his pace? you were close, you were so, so close...
that was when corio grabbed you by the chin, refusing to let up his pace. his eyes were full of darkness, yet focus. like he had found his prey. you tried to focus, tried to give him the respect the deserved... but you couldn't. your mind was swimming, and your arching cunt was dripping down his length and onto the skin of his pelvis. you were lost. so fucking lost.
"yours, corio!" you whined. "all yours. only yours."
his voice was gruff against your lips as his thrust became rougher. "say it again."
your eyes began to drift closed as you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips against his. his cock had found its way to the most sensitive and purest part of you and ripped down every wall you had. you sobbed, "yours, corio. only yours."
corio threw you off of him and your back hit the bed. he was on top of you in an instant. he threw your legs up and pressed them against your chest. with your ankles on his shoulders, he pushed himself inside of you and began to relentlessly punish your perfect fucking pussy.
"mine, you got that?" he spat against your ear. "i have watched you, day after day, put on this fucking act! perfect and proper — but i made a proper whore out of the most desirable woman in the capital, didn't i? and now she's mine — forever warming my bed."
"forever, corio," you whined. your sobs were music to his ears, going straight to his cock. your cunt was raw from the friction and slick, unsure if corio should stop or keep going — but you didn't let him guess. "inside me, corio, please... want it to bad. been so good for you..."
his hand was around your throat and demanding your attention. "as if i'd waste a drop when every man in the capital would be able to see you round with my child. you want that wife? my seed, my child? you want to be fully claimed by me?"
"yes," you cried, tears falling down your cheeks. "give it to me, husband, please —"
corio reached down in between your hips and rubbed your clit with whatever energy he had left. his thrust were growing sloppy, but his movements against your swollen bud were worse. he was hissing in your ear as he continued the assault against you. your moans were loud as they escaped your lips and filled the room, setting corio's skin on fire. sweat dripped down from his brow and down his neck to mingle with yours as your second orgasm of the evening began to approach. it snapped the rubber band in your lower belly and you immediately sobbed into corio's neck. his hips continued to rut in you, forcing you down onto the bed as he swallowed all of your sobs for himself. your nails dug into his back and down his spine, hoping to rip parts from him that he had taken from you.
when corio came, you were in a stupor. cock drunk with your mouth hanging open, dazed. when corio came, one of his hands grabbed your messy pile of hair, wrenching at the roots. he pulled you to the side to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as he pumped your cunt full of his cum. your walls were hot and sticky, full of him, but it only caused the most sickeningly warm feeling to spread throughout you. every primal need of yours was satisfied, and corio could see every bit of it on your face. the pride that welled within your husband... shameful. no man should be in possession of such an ego boost like making the prettiest, more desired woman in all of panem break from all bounds of social etiquette. you were warm, and wet, and craving every bit of his touch, so he couldn't deny you... not anymore. not when he felt the same. with each sob that left your mouth, he felt a kick in the pit of his stomach as his balls throbbed. never in his life had a woman ripped from him what he had taken from her, cheeks hot and muscles worn out.
he would regret it in the morning, maybe, but not now. no — not now.
"husband, forgive me, but..." you spoke. "my mind is a mess. i don't think i can read to you this evening."
corio rolled his eyes and laughed. "that good?"
you pressed a kiss to his lips as you hummed in approval. "never wait that long to bed your wife again."
he chuckled darkly. "watch it, sweetheart."
---
love u guys sm sorry it was so long ty for reading love u love u love u
-L xooxoxooxox
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cowboykento · 5 months
Text
giving or receiving head: jjk
characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro
warnings: MINORS DNI!!! more specifics are listed under each character. female anatomy described for all.
masterlist
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gojo satoru
(cw: deep throating, facials, praise kink)
prefers receiving. for one, it allows him to continue running his mouth, and for another thing, he just thinks you look the absolute prettiest when you’re choking on his dick.
“oh, poor thing, can barely fit half of me in that little mouth of yours. don’t worry, i’ll help you out.”
and he does help you out. by wiping away your tears and holding your hair out of the way, as well as praising you the entire time. shit, he wouldn’t love it so much if you weren’t so damn good at it, so of course he’s gonna let his angel know how good they are. sure, he might be a little bit mean at times, but you’re never going to be sucking his cock and not hear how perfect you are for him.
“fuck, angel, y’feel so fucking perfect,” he just about whines, his head thrown back and bottom lip pinched between his teeth. “gonna cum soon, sweetheart, you’re so good for me, gonna make me cum…”
and as satisfying as it is for him to watch you swallow his load, he loves being able to cum all over your pretty face. lets you finish him off with your hand as long as he gets to see his cum all over your face.
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geto suguru
prefers giving, but it’s a very close call. he loves to watch you struggle to take all of him in your mouth, but even more so he is obsessed with the faces and sounds you make when he’s using his tongue on you.
“don’t bite your lip, baby, want to hear every little sound i pull from you,” he husks from in between your legs, a thick hand on either thigh and chin dripping in your wetness.
just as good at using his fingers as he is with his mouth. and trust, he’ll use both any chance he can get to get you off. switches from fingering you + sucking your clit to pinching your clit + slurping up your juices. whatever he can do to make your mind and body absolutely electrified.
“look how messy you are for me, sweet thing,” he groans into your pussy, holding his soaked fingers up to your mouth for you to suck your own arousal off of them. “so good for me. yeah, baby, see how good you taste? could fucking live between your legs.”
and by messy, i mean he gets messy when he eats you out. he thrives off of making every time just the wettest, sloppiest head of your life. absolutely holds the back of your head to kiss you when he’s done, even though his tongue, nose, and chin are drenched.
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nanami kento
(cw: pet name ‘princess’ used once.)
prefers giving and it is not close. nanami eats you out as much for his own pleasure as yours. takes his time making you fall apart on his tongue, treating you like you’re a gift given to him by god.
“gonna let me eat you out, angel? please? gonna make you feel so good you can’t say anything but my name, does that sound good?”
loves when you pull his hair, too. loves knowing that he’s making you feel so good that you can’t help but pull at his hair to try tethering yourself to earth.
will 100% be humping the bed—he’d jerk himself off if he wasn’t using his hands on you, but he’s much more intent on making you feel good than he is himself. sure, his dick is the hardest it’s ever been when he hears you moaning his name in the breathiest, most angelic tone, but he can’t even fathom touching himself until you’ve came at least twice.
“tell me how good i make you feel, sweetheart,” he moans against your pussy, tongue swirling your clit as you reach your peak. “that’s it, princess, there you go. let it all go for me, let me taste all of you.”
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fushiguro toji
(cw: mean!toji a little bit, dacryphilia, ‘princess’ used)
prefers receiving, and he’s a little mean about it. of course he loves you, his sweet little thing, but he loves teasing you and maybe making you cry a little bit as he stuffs your mouth full of his cock.
“oh, look at you,” he teases as you struggle to fit him in your mouth, “such a pathetic little thing, can barely even fit all of me. we’re gonna have to work on that, won’t we, princess?”
and as mean as he is, he also really gets off on teaching you how to take him just the way he likes it. shows you exactly how to use your tongue and hands to make him feel the absolute most pleasure. he’s a little less mean as he’s teaching you, but only because you’re so eager to please him.
“that’s it, sweetheart, use your tongue right there, fuck,” he groans—you’re nothing if not a quick learner. “yeah, just like that angel. so desperate for me, aren’t ya? bet that little pussy is soaking right now, and all you’re doing is sucking dick. you like it that much?”
and he’s absolutely right, which is all the more humiliating. you go down further to suck his balls softly before he pulls you back by your hair so that he can cum down your throat. and of course you’re going to swallow it all, just like he taught you.
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sorry i’m a slut ✊😞 jk hope you all enjoyed these pls reblog if you did. lmk if you want more of this bc TRUST i love writing these a ton. my requests + commissions are open :) minors/blank blogs that interact will be blocked!
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2kiran · 7 months
Note
ftm!simon getting frustrated because m!reader only fucks his ass as a punishment for simon distracting him during a meeting 🙏🙏
also, his hand is pushed away every time simon tries to rub his clit or finger himself because he can't take being neglected for so long
“ 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 ”
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◜ᐢ..ᐢ◝ ᶻz ➜ he’s a huge distraction that needs to be taught a lesson.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𖤐 pairing ☆ ftm!simon “ghost” riley x dom!m!reader ˖ ࣪ ˖ cw ıllı mean!reader. flashback. brat taming. anal sex. orgasm delay. ⪩⭔⪨
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“Fuck— just, baby, please!”
Simon grasped the sheets tightly, uncontrollable groans seeping from his throat like a faucet. The smirk he wore wasn’t present, far from it. His pussy fluttered around nothing as your cock bullies into his other hole. It was his fault.
“Any questions?”
It was around 2200 hours, if you remember correctly. An unusual hour for a meeting. Your eyelids were heavy and your muscles screamed. Back aching from exhaustion. You barely had a wink of sleep, ripped from your grasp when Simon knocked on your door to rise you for the current debrief. Surely, Price could have asked for this the next day, but he insisted to have it now. “No, sir.” Your reply rasped out of your throat, hand coming around your neck to rub away the tension.
That brain of yours was silent, ears muffling out the words that were being spoken. Somehow, Gaz and Soap still had energy. They teased you a little bit for your lack of focus, but they were cut short by your captain. Your eyes were quickly drooping, so quick to fall asleep, any moment now.
Not until you felt a hand on your thigh.
You tense, glancing only to see that it belonged to Simon.
He wasn’t looking at you. Like it wasn’t intentional. You knew that it wasn’t the case, he knew what he was doing. It’s probably just his way to make you pay attention, right?
No. It was far from that.
His intentions were made clear when it slowly, oh so slowly, crept up. Fingers on the inner side, close to your crotch. “Ghost,” You hiss, sending him a glare. He was beside you, skull-patterned glove hidden beneath the table. The grip he had on your thigh tightened, squeezing the flesh.
The quietest, similar to a whisper, of a hum resonated from his chest. It was an acknowledgement. You knew he wouldn’t listen.
Now here he was, forced to just take it. This was a different form of pleasure. Not enough. “More, need more,” you scoff, dragging your hips back. “More?” mockingly, you slammed back in, “You need more, don’t you? So fuckin’ greedy.” he yelps, tears flooding his eyes but he blinks them back. Still somewhat stubborn. “I’m sorry.” he whispers, so softly, like he didn’t mean it. In spite of his apology, his hand snakes down to rub at his clit.
Harshly, the back of your hand meets his palm. Pushing it away. “What was that?” you thrust, uncaringly. Reveling in the surprised gasp he gifts you. “I’m sor—” he cuts himself off with a yelp when you harshly thrust into him again, “I’m sorry!”
“Uh, uh.” you take both of his wrists and pin them above his head, “You’re sorry? For what?” he whimpers, the brattiness in him melting into desperation. “I’m sorry...nggh! f-for distracting you. Please, baby. I can’t.” Good answer, but you can’t simply give in. Yet. “You can,” a kiss was pressed to his cheek. “Just a little more, yeah?”
He shouldn’t be as wet as he is from that.
A nod was all you received, and all that you needed. With every movement forward, his clit caught onto the fabric below. If he angled himself just right, he’d be able to—
Your hand wrapped around his thigh, moving him in order for him to lay on his side. His leg was in the air, cock still pounding into his hole. In this position, he couldn’t experience the pleasure he yearned for. He didn’t need you there. A frustrated whimper left him, frowning when he attempted to rock into nothing. You were close, but he wasn’t. “Love,” he called, a moan following. “Shit, ‘m close.” you warn, that wasn’t the response he was looking for. It only caused him to try to escape your hold on his wrists, yet to no avail. He wanted you in his greedy cunt, not there. It wasn’t fair, he only wished for your attention.
Simon garbled in between a loud gasp and a choked moan when he felt your fingers plunge into him without any resistance, given to he was soaking. “That what you wanted?” your hips was flush against his, halting as your cock leaks of cum into his gaping hole.
“Y-yeah— oh, yes, fuck!” He clamped around you — both on your cock and fingers. You pull out along with your digits, leaving him oozing with cum and on the brink of a climax. He let out a cry, head moving towards you to ask why, he was right there.
“Keep that in, ‘kay? I have somethin’ to finish.”
Deity, he hates how you’re so effortlessly infuriating.
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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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thebestofoneshots · 10 months
Text
sights | James Potter x Reader
Pairing: James Potter x Reader
Word Count: 5.9 k
Warnings: Smut, oral (Female and Male receiving), P in V, lots of praise, consent is sexy, lusty!James, he literally can't take his eyes off you.
Prompt: Inspired by the sense of sight, this fic tells the story of James Potter's first birthday as your boyfriend, and the secret gift you prepared for him a the end of the night.
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sights is part of The Five Senses: an anthology series where each chapter will be a stand alone story, inspired by the different ways we have of perceiving the world around us.
18+ readers only (smut under the cut)
James Potter gives the meanest cuddles. He always did. In the mornings you slept over, he wouldn’t want to let go of you, and at night time, when he would pretty much manhandle you until you were atop of him and held you tight between his strong arms as he rubbed soft circles on your back, under your shirt. He’d slowly find the hem of whatever shirt you wore, and pull it just enough to be able to slide his warm hand inside, he absolutely loved the feeling of your skin, how soft it was, how warm it was. He also loved how small you were in comparison to him, how he could warp his arms around you, and how you’d playfully push on him, but never really aimed to get out of his grasp. He loved the smell of your hair and the taste of your lips. He’d been bewitched, and he couldn’t help it. 
When you said you’d date him, after his last birthday party, he’d gone static, didn’t even sleep that night, just because he was thinking of how he’d get to give you a soft kiss in the morning once you two met at the common room. And he’d been the most devoted boyfriend you’d ever seen. The boys would always tease him about it, about how you’d get tired of his antics and date a normal boy instead, one who wasn’t eyeing you like a simp while in class, that wouldn’t send you love letters even if you lived almost across the other, Sirius once even joked you’d leave James for him since he was more handsome. The way you laughed after he said that had offended him so much he didn’t talk to you for a week. But what the boys didn’t know, was that you secretly loved all of James’ quirks, the way he’d hold your hands, the little notes he left, the way whenever he went to Honeydukes he’d bring back your favourite candy. No matter how you looked at it, James Potter was the best boyfriend in the world. And you wanted to be the best girlfriend too, so when his birthday and your first anniversary rolled around, you knew you wanted to make it the most special birthday of his entire life. 
Spring was just around the corner when Marlene and you sat over the common room couch browsing over some lingerie catalogues she’d gotten from her elder cousin. “This one’s nice,” she told you, pointing at a light green set. 
“Mhm…” you said with a nod, even if you weren’t convinced “It’s more your style thought, isn’t it?” 
Marlene shrugged “I guess… but I’m sure your golden boy would lust over you in it.” 
To be fair, James Potter would lust over you in shabby old cotton undies and a simple bra, heck he’d probably lust over you in a sack of potatoes if you allowed him to, but you wanted the day to be extra special, it had to be extra special. So you kept flipping through the pages along with Marlene, there were many beautiful sets, there was a light pink one that would look insane on Lily, so you and Marlene decided to get it for her together, half as a joke, half because you both genuinely thought it’d look incredible on her. There was a light blue one you decided to get for yourself, even if it was not the one you were looking for, there was a green and gold set you were tempted to get as well, but convinced yourself it was not what you were looking for and moved on, Marlene decided to get that one. You were almost tired of flipping through the pages and not finding what you wanted when Marlene gently flipped over one and you gasped “That’s it!”
It was a black little set, with enough layers to make James go crazy by unwrapping you. It had a black lacy bra and matching panties, the bra was sure to make your boobs look incredible with the new push-up technology the magazine claimed it had. But the set did not stop there, it came with a delicate bodysuit, also made out of lace, that would match perfectly with the bra and undies. The set was perfect.
“What’s it?” You heard James ask from the portrait as he spotted you, he was coming from a reunion with the rest of the prefects, his hair messy and beautiful as always. 
“Fuck,” you whispered as you hid the magazine in the folds of the sofa, which made James raise one of his eyebrows. 
“What were you looking at luv?” He asked with a teasing smile on his face. 
Marlene was about to say something clever to cover for you both, but you got ahead of her “p*rn.” Marlene deadpanned over at you, and you gave her an apologetic smile.
“Really?” James teased, “May I see?” 
He approached the two of you from behind and you kneeled on the sofa to face him, and to make it harder for him to just grab a hold of the magazine “Of course not James, you wouldn’t like it.” 
“Come on…” 
“They’re not your type of men.” 
“How would you know my type in men?” He pressed, half-jokingly.
You thought about it for a minute, and simply said “Regulus.” 
“What?” He asked confused. 
“Your type in men, it’d be Regulus. Sirius’ little bother.” 
The set of expressions he made afterwards was priceless. At first, he raised one of his fingers to object, and just when he was about to say something, he shut his mouth with a small little frown, after a couple seconds more he rose his eyebrows and nodded, agreeing with your statement “Maybe he would.” 
You smiled “See? (Y/N) knows best.” 
“You’re really not showing me are you?” 
You shook your head with a smile “Not apt for your beautiful eyes, sorry.” 
“Can I at least get a kiss?” He asked leaning in closer to you. 
You smiled, and leaned in to give him a quick little peck on the lips “You can always,” you told him with a smile. 
“Ugh, get a room you two,” Marlene said throwing a pillow towards your faces, that caused the two of you to laugh, and just to spite her even more, you pulled James for another kiss. 
“Don’t you have your extracurricular now?” He groaned in response. That was a yes. “Off you go then.” He leaned his forehead on yours for a moment, before nodding to go. 
“See you later luv.” He said as he approached the portrait again “Marlene.” He waved at her and once he was finally outside you let yourself lay on the couch, pulling out the now slightly crumbled magazine. 
“That was close.”
“No shit Sherlock! P*rn?!” She said with raised eyebrows. 
“I was caught off guard!” 
“Yeah, but that’s the worst excuse I’ve heard in my life.” 
“Well, I think he bought it.” 
“Yeah silly, that’s exactly my problem. Next time I see him he’ll be pestering me about showing you dirty stuff. And he’ll probably ask what type of men you were looking at.” 
You shrugged “Just say it was mine.” 
She rose an eyebrow “You really have no shame?” 
You were already opening the magazine again, looking at the set you were going to order “Whatever he thinks won’t matter, he’ll forget all about it on his birthday.” You said with a mischievous grin. Marlene leaned over the magazine to look at the set you were looking at. 
“He most definitely will.” She agreed after looking at the page. 
On the morning of the 27th, you set out to take a long bath, taking a self-care session by using all the different potions you and the girls had created together. By the time you came out of the bathroom, you were glowing. Even Mary whistled as she saw you walking out with a towel, as you looked for your uniform. 
“You already have it on?” Asked Marlene. 
“Have what on?” Asked Lily, looking up from her book. 
“James’ gift,” Marlene said with a smirk. 
“James’ gift, huh?” Lily said with a knowing smile. 
You shook your head “Not yet, I’ll put it on before the party.” 
“That didn’t stop you from lathering yourself with potions, did it?” Mary teased. 
“I have to make myself desirable, don’t I?” 
“Not to the point it’ll torture for him,” Mary said as she saw you pick your shortest skirt. 
Marlene shook her head “Nah, I’m with (Y/N), let Potter suffer for a couple of hours,” She said before grabbing one of her uniform shirts and passing it over “This one should be tighter.” You rose your eyebrows, but nodded, putting it on. It wasn’t super tight, but you used to wear rather loose school uniforms anyway. You fastened your tie and went to grab your vest, but Marlene grabbed your hand and shook her head, “Skip that today.” 
“But the prefects will deduct points from me for not wearing my uniform correctly.” 
Lily shook her head “It’s already spring,” she said “You’ll get away with it, just put on your robes on top, and say you took it off because it was hot if anyone says anything.” You rose an eyebrow at her and she shrugged in response “You’re the one that wants to look desirable.” 
“You’re the best, you knew that, right?” You told her with a smile. 
She smirked in return “So I’ve been told.” 
The first time James saw you that day it wasn’t in the common room like you expected, but in the Great Hall. He spotted you first and had to do a double take because you looked charming, even more so than normal. He wasn’t sure what it was, you certainly hadn’t gotten a haircut, or styled, but something about you was just, radiant, you looked absolutely radiant. 
When you finally spotted him, he was still short-circuiting over how stunning his girlfriend looked. From the curve of your hips, and your smooth legs, to how soft your hair looked. You, in turn, were also drooling over how handsome he looked in his quidditch sweater, the same sweater that gently stretched over his thick muscles. Once you finally reached the table where he sat with the boys, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and planted a soft kiss on his cheeks before letting your head fall next to his “Happy Birthday Bambi!” You told him and proceeded to lather his face with soft kisses. 
By then, Remus who had been sitting next to him, moved to the side so you could take a seat next to James. You smiled, and only after you’d given James at least a kiss for every year of his life, you took the seat in the space they’d left for you. 
James was smiling from ear to ear by the time you sat beside him, and leaned in to give you a kiss on the cheek before going back to his food. You’d already planned the entire day, Remus, thank Merlin for his kind soul, had convinced the boys to sleep in the common room so you and James could have the room for the night. Sirius, the wingman he was, had gotten a hold of some special potions so you and James didn’t have to worry about any accidents. Together you’d made sure to prepare the perfect party for James, there would be music, dancing, fireworks, and then, there would be you. 
Peter had taken care of most of the party preparations, he’d already invited all of James’ friends and had also convinced the elves of the kitchen to prepare some snacks. He had been the one to find the kitchens back in first year and he’d always been really good at convincing the elves to cook stuff for him. In the middle of breakfast, you all eyed each other, once the girls were downstairs and most of your friends were on the table, Sirius made a little signal for you, and you took out the small party blower you’d enchanted to be 10 times as loud. The moment you blew on it, the entire room went silent. And after taking a deep breath, your entire table started singing Happy Birthday. Eventually, people that knew Potter from other tables started singing, and even some of the newer kids joined in too. At some point, most of the classroom hall was singing for James, and once the song was over everyone clapped, James, being head boy, quidditch captain and pretty much the golden Gryffindor boy, was liked by almost the entire school, and it showed. 
Sirius had been tasked to distract James, so while you ran around the common room making sure everything was ready, he was flying around the quidditch pitch with your boyfriend. To be fair, you were jealous, but last year you’d been the one to distract him, and that’s how the two of you had ended up all over each other on the bleachers. And you were pretty sure James would want to repeat it, so you decided it was best to let someone else distract him and save the gift for the night. 
“The fireworks have been placed, right?” Remus asked as he walked closer to you. 
You nodded in response “In position, I’ve also got the mix tape Sirius made ready on the music player.”
Remus smiled “You should stay and help with preparations more often, you’re great at it.”
You smiled “Promise I’ll help prepare your party then.”
“They’re coming!” You heard Peter say as ran inside the common room. 
You smiled and went to your hiding spot, along with everyone else, when James came inside, everyone jumped from their places and shouted “Happy Birthday James!” Your boyfriend had a massive smile on his face, as the people who hadn’t already congratulated him piled around him to fill him with hugs and celebrations over his existence. You smiled too, seeing James so happy was absolutely contagious. Especially with the war and the serious things had gotten, it was nice to see him completely forget about it, even if it was just for a day. 
As you were grabbing onto a glass of whatever alcoholic beverage the boys had managed to smuggle inside the castle, you felt James hug you from behind, wrapping his strong arms around you and laying his head over your shoulder “Why’ve you been so far away?” he asked with a pout.
“What do you mean James? I’ve been right here.”
“Yeah, here, not next to your boyfriend, where you should be.” You laughed and turned around to look at him instead, he placed his hands over your hips and started playing with the top hem of your skirt “I was kinda bummed it wasn’t you flying with me today.”
“Awww… Jammie, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” You said as you played with his hair.
“When?”
You smiled mischievously, “How does later tonight sound?”
James rose his eyebrows, he’d wanted to claim you the moment he saw you in the Great Hall, and the restraint it took him not to push you over the small table with all the refreshments right then was remarkable.
“Come on,” You told him when you noticed his pupils were blown out, “We still have some party left to enjoy,” You winked, before pulling him to the little area where all of his friends were hanging out. 
You all talked for a while, until it was time for dancing, and Sirius walked towards the stereo, switching the background music to some of the more danceable tunes. You smiled and went straight to dancing with Mary, James was still sitting on the sofa, talking to Remus, when you decided you wanted to torture him, even if it was just a little bit and started swaying your hips for him to notice. At first, he’d been too distracted, but eventually, he did see you, and once he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop. Your ass looked incredible in that outfit. 
“Mate, you’re staring at her ass,” Remus informed, which had James snap from his trance.
“No, I–”
“–No shame for it,” Remus said raising both of his hands “Just don’t make it so blatantly obvious, people will think you’re a perцert.”
James sighed and placed his hands over his head as he leaned back over the sofa, and just as he wasn’t looking you went straight to the sofa and sat on his lap.
He almost jumped in surprise, but quickly managed to smell it was just you. And he pulled you in closer “Tired of dancing so much?” He mumbled. 
You shook your head “Came to drag you to dance with me, actually.” You told him with a smile. 
“I’m not sure I want to-“ He started but shut up the moment you rolled your hips against his lap. 
“Promise I’ll make it worth it.” You whispered, Remus heard it anyway and snickered before standing up and finding someplace else.
“Baby, now I can’t even stand up,” James said with a frown, he’d gotten a semi-hard. And just to tease him, you rolled your hips again, which had him tightening his grip on your waist. “Let’s just walk upstairs and have a quickie before-“ You rolled your hips again “-fuck (Y/N), you can’t just do that!” he pretty much groaned. 
You smiled when you felt how hard he was, dick pressing to your ass the way you liked it, you wondered how it would feel to have James on that particular sofa, but shook your thoughts away, maybe on a different day. “Sorry Jemmie, we can’t do quickies today,” You said with a shrug and stood up. He didn’t even have enough time to drag you back down on him and had to grab a pillow to cover himself up instead. He narrowed his eyes at you as you smiled at him from the dance floor, still beckoning for him to come dance. He gave you a look, nodding down to the pillow and you giggled, shrugging with a smile and joining Marlene and Mary on the dance floor. 
“Girl, your boyfriend may explode if you continue to treat him like that,” said Marlene. 
You shook your head “Nah, he likes it,” you told her, turning to James with a little wink, before turning back to your friend. 
The fireworks came about an hour later, and people were starting to leave the Gryffindor common room, going back to their own houses or to their rooms. There was a couple making out on one of the sofas and someone passed out on the couch. And as more and more people left, you couldn’t help but feel excited about your own little party upstairs. 
James came towards you, a little desperate as you stood near the window, looking at the night sky, and the smoke residue the fireworks had left. “Can we please go upstairs now? Before the boys want to get to sleep, I’m sure we can have at least a bit of fun,” he pretty much begged. 
You smiled, “I was waiting for you to ask,” you responded as you reached for his hand, omitting the fact that he didn’t have to worry about the boys walking upstairs on that particular night. 
The moment James closed the door he had you pinned against it, his leg finding its way between yours as he kissed you desperately. You let him, there was something about the rush mixed with the possibility of getting caught that always turned James on. When he started to pull on your shirt, to slide his hands underneath, he seemed puzzled since he didn’t find skin, but lace instead. That's when you stopped him, placing both hands on his shoulders softly, which pulled an even more confused look out of him. 
“No need to rush darling,” you told him with a smirk “I’ve made arrangements, the boys will not sleep here today.” 
James pulled a diverted smile “Arrangements, huh?”
You nodded, the playful expression being mirrored in your face, leaning into him to whisper in a low tone “We’ve got all night.” 
“And the… uhm–“ he cleared his throat “the lace?” 
You smiled again, “Your birthday gift,” you told him matter-of-factly “wanna unwrap it?” You offered, almost casually, which had James’ head rolling with the dizziness that came along with the excitement. You gently pulled his arm and moved the two of you towards the bed, having him sit on it, before straddling him and going back to press your lips against his own, separating only to kiss his neck instead as he finally started to unbutton your shirt. 
James was not in a rush anymore, in fact, he was taking his sweet time with the buttons, as if discovering what the lacy thing under the shirt was something that he should relish on, rather than rush to. Finally, when his hand undid the final button he gently pulled your arms from his shoulders so he could fully remove the shirt. You rocked your hips against him, as you’d done earlier, but now his boner was pressing against your cunt, the friction from the lace and his hard cock making you wet instantly. 
Eventually, he pulled you from his neck, he wanted to see you. You pulled back, hands still over his shoulders as you tilted your head to the side with a little smile “Like what you see?” He buckled his hips against you in response, the little black set you’d chosen was doing things to him he didn’t believe possible. He was obsessed with the way the little leotard thing was just sheer enough for him to be able to see your skin, the curve of your breasts and your hardened nipples. “Speak baby,” you commanded. 
“Of course… I fucking love it.” He told you, which just fueled your resolve even more, separating from him, and kneeling on the floor right in front of the boy. You started undoing his belt when he gave you a look “You’re not gonna… are you?” 
You shrugged “My birthday boy deserves the best of treatments.” You replied, continuing your task, you looked absolutely stunning kneeling on the floor for him, skirt pooled on the floor around you, almost completely covering your legs. You looked like a flower, the prettiest he’d ever seen; your breasts just at the right angle for him to relish on the view he had of them. And your pretty lips, you were bitting on them, as if you couldn’t restrain yourself from sucking him a minute more. James wasn’t even sure if he was even gonna last all the way to the moment you placed your pretty lips around him, heck, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever been that turned on in his life.  
When you finally pulled the hem of his boxer and took him out, he gasped, you did not waste any time, and started to softly pump him, using your free hand to massage his inner tight. You started slow, almost agonizingly slow, until you finally started to pick up the pace, he saw the way you licked your lips before leaning down, and he had to restrain himself from buckling his hips against your face, gripping on the bed sheets until his knuckles were white. You started with a soft lick along his shaft, James shivered the moment he felt your wet tongue on his delicate skin. After that, you went for the tip, small kitten-like licks at first, like you were testing the waters. This was not the first time you’d ever blowed James, but he wasn’t one to ask for it, he felt too self-conscious to do it, like he was asking you to do something you didn’t particularly like. He couldn’t be more wrong, you absolutely adored toying with him. 
His tip was by far the most sensible part, and he was in awe, staring at you with his breath stuck in his throat as you licked away, alternating between licks and your fingers toying with the nib.
When your mouth finally wrapped around him, he let out the most sinful moan you’d ever heard in your life. Which had you hum in response, your little sound causing your entire throat to reverberate over his cock, and he couldn’t stop himself from buckling up on you. “‘’Mm sorry, kitten” he mumbled, James Potter was above else: a true gentleman. 
You smiled, and took him in deeper, bobbing your head up and down his length. “…fuck… your pretty little mouth is so–“You tightened your grip around him a little and pumped “–Aah.” You were already picking up the piece, James was so close, already involuntarily buckling his hips against you, but he then placed a gentle hand over your shoulder, and pulled you back, a thin string of spit connected you with him still when he spoke “ss-stop,” he managed to say, breathing heavily as you looked at him confused. 
You wiped your mouth with your hand “But you were about to… I- I thought…” 
“I am…” he reassured “I don’t want to yet…” he told you, and then moved his hand over to the back of your neck, you leaned your head on his touch “I haven’t even unwrapped my gift completely,” he said in a flirty tone. You rose your eyebrows at that, and he helped you rise from the floor, the little marks from the rug had itched on your knees, and he looked at you with what you’d only be able to recognize as despair “Kitten…” he reproached. 
“It’s nothing Jemmie, doesn’t hurt much.” 
He shook his head, “Next time we’ll place a pillow, my best girl will not be in pain as she gives me pleasure.” You smiled, James really was the best boyfriend in the world. He then softly wrapped his arms around your waist “May I?” He asked as he toyed with the back button of your skirt. 
“It’s your gift, James, you can do whatever the hell you want with it tonight,” you told him in a low tone, James’ pupils were so blown out after you said that, that his eyes almost looked entirely black, it was the most lustful you’d ever seen him. He carefully unbuttoned the skirt, and pulled the zipper down, allowing the skirt to gently fall over the floor as he stared. And fuck you were so pretty, he couldn’t believe you were actually his, to touch, to kiss, to love.
He stared at you, lips parted and pink, heavy breaths making his chest fall up and down gently, and then he placed his hands over your shoulders, letting them gently slide down your arms, admiring you as he pulled you towards the bed. He placed you there, and then placed himself on top, his knees around your legs and his hands next to your shoulder to hoover above you “fuck…” he all but whispered, “You look so beautiful in this thing.” 
You smiled, realizing how he looked up and down your body, not sure himself how to start “What do you want James?” You whispered seductively. 
“I want to taste you,” he responded simply. 
“Do you now?” You teased “Then go ahead baby!” 
As if he was waiting for that moment, he grabbed onto the straps of the bodysuit and started to pull them down your arms, and then down your torso, the lack of fabric had made the bra even sheerer, allowing him to see your breasts in a better light, and he stared at them for a moment before he continued his task of pulling the body suit down. Once he was done, he went up again and started to caress your legs, spreading them lightly open as he placed soft wet kisses over your inner tight.
And then, since you were expecting his mouth, you were absolutely shocked as he used his free hand to trace over your slit, still over the fabric of the lacy panties “fuck” he swore, “you’re so wet for me.” 
At that moment, James Potter lost control, he all but pushed the thin fabric to the side and started to toy with your folds “So fucking wet,” he added, still tracing kisses on your legs, and then, he finally moved his mouth to you, starting with a long lick over your slit “you smell delightful,” he added. You moaned his name as he did, and he just smiled in return, you didn’t see it, but you felt him smile against your cunt. Then his mouth went straight to your clit, and he alternated between soft licks and hard sucks. At some point your legs closed around his face, involuntarily, he chuckled, relishing how good he knew he was making you feel. 
He then placed both hands over your legs and pulled them back down, “spread open for me, will you?” 
You nodded in response, aching for him to go back to what he was doing just seconds ago, you involuntarily buckled your hips against him, looking at his playful smirk as you did, he then placed a hand over your hips, putting on a little force, to keep you on on the bed as he went back to kiss you. As he continued to suck, you started to lose control of yourself again, battling against his hand in an attempt to buckle your hips onto his mouth, but his hold was strong, so instead you lowered your hands and inter winded them onto his hair, pressing him down on you, he all but groaned as you did so and then placed one of his fingers inside of you, curling it and moving it around as he got you ready for the next part. 
Another suck and you were on cloud 9, feeling the familiar tension build up so much, you felt like you’d blow up “Jamie, I think I’m gonna, ah-“ you trailed off as he sucked. 
“Cum for me baby,” he whispered, “cum all over my face.” 
 And you did, moaning his name as you buckled your hips against his face, he had released his tight grip on you, and you could feel his smile against you again, he continued to move his hand over you, his thumb had replaced his mouth, and he was just staring at you with a lustful expression as you rode his hand though your high. He was just enjoying the view, the little fucker. 
When you finally relaxed, your breaths were heavy, lips red and parted from biting on them, and he couldn’t help himself, and went back straight for a kiss, to your lips, this time around. You could taste yourself on him, and there was something about knowing that it was you who he’d been down on that made your arousal start again. You buckled your hips against him, your sex lightly brushing against his hard cock as you did “I’m not gonna fucking last if you keep teasing me like that.” He reproached. 
“I don’t care, baby, come on!” You said as you buckled your hips again. He looked at you another time, before nodding. He used his hand to bring your underwear down and discarded it somewhere. He leaned in to kiss your neck as he traced his tip over your slit. You buckled your hips against him again, causing his skin to move up and down and he gripped the bedsheets around your face tight, “Stop teasing Jemmie…” 
And he did, with a long and sharp thrust, he was balls deep inside you. You gasped, James always took his time to get in, he really must be desperate. Regardless of his own needs, James stayed like that for a second, relishing on the sensation before you tightened yourself around him “…fuck…” he all but whispered, “You know I love it when you do thaaaaa–t,” his last word coming out strained since you’d done it again. And then you buckled your hips against him, signalling he could start. 
Long, slow trust at first, taking himself almost completely out before going back in, over and over again. At some point, he lifted himself from your neck and started to look at you, and then back down at your breasts, as he thrusted in and out he used one of his hands to softly trace over the valley of them, right where the lace ended. He was teasing you, you realized when his fingers traced just around your nipples, not daring to touch them. You used your hand to place his against your breast, nodding as you had him cup it, he smiled cheekily at your reaction and finally dragged the lacey fabric down, exposing your beautiful breasts. He pinched and twisted them softly, making you moan his name and tighten your walls sound him as he did. He was enjoying the view, and how could he not? You were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, from the shine in your eyes, your pink lips from biting down your moans all the way to your tight little cunt.
“Fuck me! you’re so tight,” he praised, and you buckled your hips against him in response. 
“It’s what I’m doing baby,” you responded, and he started to pick up the pace, faster, shorter thrusts, he dragged his hand down and started to rub your clit, gently pressing his hand over it a couple of times before starting to circle it a lot faster. He was about to cum, he only did that when he wanted you to cum along with him. You buckled your hips against him, and you were already being dragged over the edge by this boy, you relished on the feeling, you started seeing white, and roughly gripped his thick forearm, not realizing the way your nails had dug onto him. 
James didn’t realize it either, he was too preoccupied looking at your face, trying to carve on his brain the expression you had on your face, you looked so stunning as the pleasure drew over your face, short breaths, brows furrowed for a second before opening your eyes back up to look at him, you smiled softly, and that was all it took for him to come all over you with a deep moan. Thrusting getting sloppy as he continued to move until he was completely emptied. James Potter placed a soft kiss on your mouth before gently, and softly pulling himself out of you, you almost complained, missing the way he had been filling you up so perfectly. You felt his cum drip down your legs as he lay on the side, he pulled his wand from the side of the bed and cleaned you up with a little wave of it. 
“And here I thought nothing would top last year's birthday when you said you’d be my girlfriend,” he said, breaths still heavy as the two of you stared at the top of the bed. You smiled at his words, and then sat on the bed, starting to try and spot your undies, but Merlin knows where James had thrown them too. “Hey!” He said, dragging you down on the bed when he realized what you were doing “Where do you think you’re going?” 
“Clothes…” you said, as he pulled you into his chest. 
“No clothes–“  
“–But James…” you started to argue. 
“Let me finish,” he whispered sternly “No clothes… yet.” You turned to him, eyes opened wide in surprise, “You’re the one that said we had all night.” He replied afterwards. 
“But you already…” 
“Yeah,” he nodded, and motioned down to his cock, which was starting to twitch again “…but darling, you look absolutely charming tonight.”  
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A/N: this is my second smut piece ever, and holly shit it got out of hand, when I checked my word count I had already written like 3k words of pure SMUT, I was shocked. But, positive side is, I feel like I'm finally getting the hang of it? The Five Senses was born as a way for me to practice writing smut for my brand new Wolfstar x Reader series that's currently being posted on a weekly basis. If you have feedback, please leve it in the comment below. I absolutely love reading your comments <3
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spitdrunken · 4 months
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Vox x Reader Relationship Headcanons
This post contains SPOILERS in the sense that it is based off of the version of Vox as presented in episode 2. None of the actual plot points featured within are discussed. notes: background vox x valentino / polyamory (reader only dates vox), extremely unhealthy relationships, stalking, manipulation, hypnosis, power imbalance. kidnapping + physical abuse mention (neither done by vox)
To catch the eye of a demon as powerful as Vox is not an ideal situation. While he could be considered more levelheaded than your average demon, and certainly is when compared to his associates, he still has things that rile him up like no other. No, he doesn’t have a whole string of sexual partners to use and abuse like Valentino does, but that makes the weight of his gaze all the more crushing when it does fall upon someone.
Once you’ve got his interest, it’s practically impossible to slip away from him. He’s got vantage points all across the Pride Ring, being able to slip in and out of its many scattered screens with ease. While the usual tracking Vox Media subjects its customers to is already an invasion of privacy, yours would be on a whole other level.
With how inescapable his company is amongst Sinner demons, it’s more than likely you’ve at least got some kind of device he’d be able to peer into. As soon as your phone is being plugged into a port, he’d be skimming through your messages and search history. Though your face-to-face meetings might have been minimal or non-existent at this point, he would already know far more about you than most of your friends. …You should really clear out your search history more often. But, hey, he’s not unhappy about it! There’s no traces of his presence as soon as he’s done.
Vox cares a great deal about his reputation and image. Not only because he’s the very face of a high-earning brand, but it is also simply the kind of person he is. Whereas someone like Valentino might have gone right ahead and shot any possible partner in the head, Vox is much more careful than that. What would people think, if he simply went around and started electrocuting a bunch of unknowns to death? No, that’s just not his way of doing things whatsoever.
Even besides that, there’s also much more satisfaction in it, to him, to convince you to leave them and join him, of your own accord. Vox has always been the brain behind all operations, the meticulous and thoughtful one, the one who got investors on board and appeared in interviews. In other words, he’s become quite good with words, and can easily come off as charming whenever he so wishes. That is exactly the way he will present himself to you, at least at first: a demon unlike other demons, practically a gentleman.
You wouldn’t have known him from his early days, the time where he still made mistakes, and nobody knew his name. When he invites you over for dinner (through an email that you’re convinced is fake spam, the first couple of times you receive it), he wants to appear nothing but infallible and powerful to you. You, who is only familiar with him through screens, as a flawless news presenter, gameshow host, and much more. A smile would never leave his screen, and he is constantly courteous.
He’s got a couple of expensive gifts at the ready as well, ones that hail from his own company. Perhaps it’s the newest iteration in his own line of phones, or a brand-new kind of security system. He’ll wave off any kind of dismissal of his gift, telling to just take it, you don’t even know how many of those he has lying around! Trust him. (In fact, they are modified to grant him even more easy access into your life. A constant stream of information directed at him, with Vox never even having to enter your device anymore.)
In a place like the Pride Ring in Hell, existence is demeaning at best, and utterly miserable at worst, for the average demon. Vox is more than aware of this and, at first, doesn’t even try his absolute best to sweep you off your feet. The power and the safety net someone such as himself would provide would be more than enough for most people. For the average demon, time spent by his side would be a vast improvement, and no one can deny that.
And, in this case, he is most likely interested in someone with far less power than him: you. Whether actively aware of it or not, and if he was, he’d never admit it, a part of Vox desires to be with someone from whom affection comes more easily. And that is… Not Valentino. Not that he’d ever separate from him, mind you, you’d simply be the antithesis to him. If you aren’t, he’ll make you something closer to that.
One of the largest drawbacks that immediately becomes noticeable, is the political target spending time around Vox makes you. Whether he purposefully makes the two of you appear in Hell’s largest tabloid, or only goes someplace where the two of you are sure to be spotted, you’ll surely become a demon worthy of kidnapping after this. It is exactly this, and the fear that comes along with it, that Vox would weaponize against you.
Wouldn’t it be much better, and safer, to stay in one of the company’s buildings? You’re bound to get kidnapped anywhere else, you know. He’s just looking out for you! Really though, he’d never let something like that happened to you. Not only because such an occurence would cause his reputation to take a great hit, but also because he cares! The praises he heaps on top of you are never outright lies, though some are perhaps exaggerated. He wouldn’t spend so much time on a demon he wasn’t genuinely interested in.
Vox, to the vast majority of people, would come on too strong, and too fast. The kind of attention that comes from someone who hasn’t been denied anything in a long time. At the same time, underneath his collected demeanor, seen in his stalking and meticulous collection of information, there is something that could be seen as a glimmer of desperation.
One might stop and think that, if he truly were as capable and faultless as he makes himself out to be, why would he go through all of this trouble? Wouldn’t simply being himself, or something rather close to it, be enough? This is truly where the heart of the issue, his deeply-hidden insecurity, shines through. Besides just the way the thought of being rejected by you upsets him, as well as he tries to hide it, he can’t simply back out, now that he’s spent so much time around you. He’d never live it down.
If, for some reason, ‘diplomacy’ and his usual wooing doesn’t work… He’s an Overlord for a reason. He still has plenty of tricks left up his sleeve. He can manipulate any digital image he wants, including video, without ever touching editing software. Vox can show you the people closest to you saying outright brutal things about you, with their exact mannerisms and voice. All data gathered through the various devices of his he owns, then capable of creating replicas. In a limited way, he can bend reality to his will.
If even that doesn’t work, he has his powers of hypnosis as a last resort. In this case, he doesn’t like having to use them, would have preferred the satisfaction over getting you to fawn over him all on your own… But it’s just so much easier to plant a little trigger inside your brain. For him to snap his fingers, and have you become more agreeable. Your thoughts growing that tiniest bit hazier, your head the slightest bit heavier.
All you have to do is look into his eyes, and take a deep breath… That’s better, isn’t it? What were you even getting so upset about before, huh? (And again, hypnosis is a last resort here. He’s spent so many years dealing with Valentino’s temper tantrums that he’s an expert at diffusing any kind of argument, and nothing surprises anymore.)
Vox wouldn’t be likely to physically hurt you at all. He sees himself as being capable of more self-control than that, even when in the throes of jealousy. Really, the one you should be most afraid of during this entire ordeal is Valentino. While their relationship is by no means monogamous, and it never will be, he’s still used to being the center of attention. He uses violence and unpredictability to have Vox, largely, at his every beck and call. While Vox isn’t used to having denied things, Valentino’s is many times worse about it.
Initially, he ignores you. Designating you as some kind of fling, not even worthy of being one of his whores, soon ready to be forgotten. Vox doesn’t do those kinds of things all that often but, hey, anything’s bound to happen with an eternity of time to kill, right? It’s only when you become a more permanent fixture in their life that he really becomes more of a threat.
He’ll let his temper cut loose, specifically during times where the two of you are spending time together, causing mayhem around the company. If Vox’s attention is entirely unwanted, this may even be a welcome reprieve for you. Still, Valentino being jealous of you should be about the last thing you want. Frankly, it makes you liable to get shot on a bad day, or because of a poorly worded comment.
…Perhaps it would be better to stay close to Vox, then.
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katnisspeetaprim · 2 months
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Father Figure
Lucifer Morningstar/Platonic!TeenReader
Summary: You'd had a hard time in the sort while you'd been alive, so when your new boss shows you kindness like you've never seen, you can't help but be suspicious...
Warnings: Platonic relationship, teenage fem reader, implied drug use, implied sex work, implied underage sex, dead beat parents, assault, swearing, panic attack, crying, angst, fluff A.N; not sure if I will write a part 2 yet, see how this does!
Word Count: 3102 Hazbin M.list
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Hell was a scary place for someone like you. Being a teenager in Hell was less than ideal.
Your parents were useless, always too coked out of their minds to care for you, so you left.
Due to your unfortunate circumstances, you had to resort to some... less than kosher means to survive. It was awful, but it’s all you could do.
One night, one of your clients wouldn’t take no for an answer so when you tried to fight back, things went bad for you.
So here you were.
Luckily, under princess Morningstar’s new work programme, all new sinners would be provided with a job to get them started, if they accepted the help that is. And that’s how you came to be the King of hell’s live in maid.
You’d finally found your way to the mansion, after getting lost multiple times. You felt somewhat intimidated as you stood before the large doors. It just now hit you that you’d be working for the devil himself. The thought made your blood run cold. Why would they give such a high profile job to someone like you? Maybe because you wouldn’t be able to cause any trouble? Either way you couldn’t back out now.
Swallowing back your nerves, you raised a hand and knocked on the door.
Almost immediately the door swung open to reveal a short man, who seemed a little too keen to interact with you.
‘Why hello there! Something I can help you with?’... Was he waiting by the door?
‘I uh- I was told to come here to work?’ You handed him your work certificate, and he quickly scanned it over before breaking out into a smile.
‘Wow! I didn’t expect to get someone so soon!’ It was only after Lucifer read the paper, did he properly look at you. His smile faltered slightly.
‘Uh sorry to be blunt, but you look a little... young?’
‘Well I’m 16.’ You laughed nervously. ‘Is that not ok? I promise I’ll be a good worker!’ Lucifer frowned deeply at your sudden panicked rambling.
It wasn’t uncommon for people to die young, but to end up in Hell?
He knew Earth could be a terrible place, but what could you have done at such a young age to end up here.
‘No no! Just me thinking out loud haha.’ Lucifer quickly backtracked. ‘Please come in.’ He moved to allow you to pass by, now smiling again. You entered, realising you were only slightly shorted than him as you passed by.
Maybe working for the Devil wouldn’t be as scary as you thought.
‘You have no idea how long I’ve needed a maid. I hate cleaning!’ He sighed out dramatically.
Over the coming months, you’d settled well into your job. You suppose you had it easy when it came to jobs in Hell. Cleaning was pretty easy.
Lucifer mostly left you to your own devices, thinking you wouldn’t want to hang out with an old man like him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t make an effort with you.
The first time he approached you in the middle of the day, was to gift you a mobile phone.
‘Hey!’ He slid up to you out of nowhere, making you jump out of your skin. ‘Realised you don’t have a phone! Can’t check in if you don’t have one of those!’ You weren’t used to receiving gifts with no strings attached, But Lucifer didn’t seem to have ulterior motives, so you tentatively accepted.
‘Oh! I’ll even give you my daughters number! You two will get on like a house on fire!’
Another encounter was on an evening. Lucifer was finishing up his supper, when he aught sight of you scurrying round the foyer. He called out for you to come over.
‘Have you eaten yet? It’s getting pretty late...’ You couldn’t help but feel touched that he was seemingly looking out for you.
‘I still have a lot to do... I’m a little behind today...’ You trailed off, worried about being scolded for being tardy.
‘Nonsense! Please join me, there’s way too much for just me anyway.’ Lucifer insisted, jumping up and pulling a chair out for you.
‘Are you sure that’s ok?’ You asked, still a little reserved of his kindness.
‘Of course! Always happy for the company.’
Lucifer could read you like a book. He knew you were still nervous and skeptical of him, but he couldn’t blame you. He still didn’t know the circumstances for you to end up in Hell, plus you were so young, it would take a lot to trust.
Even though you worked for him, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel protective of you.
One of the more recent incidents, was when you got hurt.
The house chef was running out of ingredients, so he asked you to run out and grab them. You happily agreed since you didn’t really have any reason to leave the house otherwise.
Ok. Maybe you’d gone a little over bored, you thought as you juggled the heavy bags in your arms.
‘Hey baby! Need some help with those?’ You looked over and saw a group of 3 men leering at you. You smiled nervously and said ‘ No thank you.’ Before turning round, hoping to get away without any trouble.
‘Hey do you know who your talking to? Don’t be rude!’ One of the men grabbed your arm, causing you to drop your bags.
‘Don’t touch me!’ You screamed out, trying to pry your arm from his grip.
‘We were just offering to walk you home lady, but if you want to get down here, that’s fine by us.’ The second man sneered at you with a smirk as he grabbed your face hard.
Your eyes widened at his words. You were now struggling even more, to no avail. The final man cam up behind you and grabbed your other arm in an attempt to keep you still.
‘Stop struggling will ya!’ The man in front of you spat out, shaking you by the arm. He shook you so violently, that the long sleeve of your dress began to rip. You took advantage of this. Pulling your arm back so hard, your sleeve came off in his hand.
The attacker behind you hadn’t been expected you to fall backwards, so he lost his grip on your arm, giving you just enough time to book it in the direction of Lucifer’s home.
You could hear them running and shouting after you, but you didn’t look back. It wasn’t far now. You just had to make it back to the house and you’d be safe.
Bursting through the main doors, you immediately fell to your knees and cradled your head in your hands as you hyperventilated.
‘Y/N!? What the Hell happened?’ Lucifer had heard the slam of the door so he came out to investigate. He hadn’t expected to find you having a panic attack in his entrance hall.
He was kneeling by your side in an instant, placing a comforting hand on your back. As he looked closer at you, he saw that your sleeve was ripped, with a bruise forming round your wrist. When you looked up at him with wide, teary eyes he also clocked some bruises on your jaw.
Lucifer’s eyes immediately darkened.
‘’m sorry I-I lost the groceries...’ You stuttered out with a shaky voice.  Lucifer’s face immediately contorted.
‘Y/N I don’t give a damn about the groceries! I want to know who did this to you.’ Lucifer was aware of how angry he sounded, but he was honestly offended that you thought he cared more about some groceries than you.
You cowered slightly at his raised voice and Lucifer felt bad. He took a deep breath to calm down before speaking again, much more softly this time.
‘Please Y/N, I need to know who did this.’
You looked up to him and you could see the genuine concern in his eyes. You tried your best to get your sobs under control so you could speak.
‘There was a-a group of three rough looking guys not far from here...’ Lucifer groaned internally. He knew exactly who you were talking about.
They were a group that had been causing trouble round the are for a while now, but he never had a good enough reason to get rid of them... Until now.
Lucifer stood and extended a hand to you with a smile. You hesitantly took his hand and he helped you to your feet.
‘Go get cleaned up ok? I gotta go out for a while.’ He ushered you towards your room.
‘Ok...’ You trailed off sadly.
‘Great!’ Lucifer grinned widely at you as he opened a portal. He stepped through before leaning his head back out to address you.
‘And I don’t want to see you doing house work when I get back, kay?’ he tipped his hat before dashing back through. Then the portal closed.
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‘Evening gentlemen.’ The three men from earlier swiftly jumped up from their card game, to see Lucifer leaning up against the wall, blocking the exit to the alley. They all immediately shrunk back when they saw it was him.
‘oh your majesty... What brings you to our hideout?’ Lucifer started to slowly walk into the alley, never tearing his eyes away from the men, making them even more on edge.
‘Uh-sir?’
‘So you think it’s fun to assault kid’s huh?’ Lucifer spoke in an eerily calm voice. The men looked at each other, now sweating profusely.  They all immediately tried to deny the accusations, but Lucifer wasn’t having it.
‘Keep your filthy mouths shut!’ His demonic form began manifesting as his anger grew. ‘You dare lay your hands on someone I care about!?’
The men were no longer tough bullies, but now reduced to a quivering mass with their backs to the wall as Lucifer stalked forwards.
A smirk appeared on his face as he narrowed his eyes at the men.
‘What do you say I give a demonstration of how Hell got it’s reputation?’
Screams echoed from the alley. People knew better than to intervene.
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Lucifer returned home not much later, making a bee line for your room straight away.
He was about to knock on your door, when he heard faint crying coming from the other side.
He looked down remorsefully. Maybe he shouldn’t have left you alone. He composed himself and knocked. The sobs went quiet and he heard a meek, ‘come in.’
As he entered, he noticed you’d changed from your maid outfit and now wore your pyjamas and dressing gown.
‘Hey Y/N, you feeling any better?’ He came to sit next to you with a comforting smile.
‘I guess so...’ You replied, though the defeated look was still evident on your face.
‘Well golly! I have something to turn that frown upside down!’ You were startled by his sudden energetic proclamation. ‘Ta-da!’ He pulled a small duck from his coat pocket and proudly presented it to you.
You looked over the duck, which had obviously been made to resemble you by giving it some of your features.
As you looked at the little yellow duck, something inside of you snapped. Without warning, you batted the duck from his hand and jumped up in a fury, scowl painted across your face.
‘Why are you acting like you care about me!?’ Lucifer jumped up as if you’d burnt him, his hands out in front of him as a peaceful gesture. He was stunned at your sudden outburst.
‘Y/N, I don’t thi-‘
‘Don’t try and lie to me! Nobody’s ever cared about me!’ You cut him off. You were getting more irate as you broke down into hysterics again.
Lucifer didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t find the words to speak.
When he didn’t answer, it only made you more angry.
‘What do you want from me!?’ You screamed at him, tears flowing down your face. ‘Is it sex? Is that what you want from me, just like everyone else!?’
Lucifer audible gasped at your outburst and took a step back to show he meant no harm.
‘Whoa kid! I don’t want anything from you! Especially not...’ Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to say it. Everything began to fall into place for him now. So that’s what you had to do back on Earth.
He was angry that you accused him of being that disgusting, but not at you. He could never hate you. He was angry that there were people on Earth that thought it was ok to take advantage of a child like that.
You froze in place. The way he was keeping his distance, the way he was making himself look small so as to not intimidate you... Then there was his eyes. They were sad.
They bore into you, as if he were pleading with you to believe him. He wasn’t lying.
Your eyes stung with tears and your face heated up as you looked away, embarrassed by your outburst.
Lucifer wanted to comfort you, but he also didn’t want to spook you, so you needed to make the first move.
You mumbled something under your breath he couldn’t quite hear.
‘I uh, didn’t catch that...’ You squinted your eyes and let out a shaky breath, as if hyping yourself up to repeat what you had said.
You looked him dead in the eye, face hard as you repeated yourself.
‘I said I wish I were your daughter! My life would have been so much better.’
Lucifer was gobsmacked. He really hadn’t been expecting that. When he really thought about it he realised he shouldn’t be that surprised at all. He knew you had to have a rough life, and with how welcoming and caring he’d been to you, he should have know something like this would manifest.
The more Lucifer thought it over, the bigger his hear swelled. You thought so highly of him, that you wanted him to be your dad, or fatherly figure at least.
It seemed that Lucifer took a few moments too many to digest this information, as you turned away from him abruptly. He could see you shaking.
‘I’m sorry....’ You whispered.
Lucifer was snapped back to reality by your voice. You were clearly still upset, but he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading  across his face.
He made his way over to you and gingerly placed a hand on your shoulder, so as to not startle you, but you still flinched at the contact.
‘Y/N... You’ve nothing to be sorry for.’ Lucifer spoke so softly that it took you off guard. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was smiling.
‘It wasn’t till recently that I repaired my relationship with Charlie.’ You were rooted to the spot as you listened intently to what he was saying. ‘ I wasn’t there for a long time, and I truly regret how much time I missed with her.’ Your face was cast down as you hung onto every word.
You felt so stupid bringing this up. He already had a daughter that he loved, so you would just get in the way. Maybe this was his way of letting you down gently.
Lucifer moved to stand next to you, with his arm now across your shoulders. As you looked up to him, you were stunned to see him smiling. You almost passed out at his next words.
‘But maybe I can be there for you.’ More tears started to stream down your face, but this time they were tears of joy. For the first time in a long time, you felt truly happy.
Flinging your arms round his torso, you buried your head into his chest as you clung to him for dear life.
Lucifer happily returned your embrace and lay his head a top yours.
‘I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.’ He soothed as he stroked the top of your head. You pulled back and looked up to him with a slight laugh.
‘You mean I should have died sooner?’ Lucifer cringed and pulled away, playfully throwing his hands up in the air.
‘Well of course it’s gonna sound morbid if you say it like that!’ You both laughed together and you wiped the tears from under your eyes.
Something caught Lucifer’s eye from across the room. It was the small duck he’d previously offered you.
You watched without a word as he retrieved the gift. He stood before you and offered it once again with a wide grin. This time you gratefully accepted.
Cupping your hands round the small toy, you held it up next to your face.
‘Great likeness.’ You joked and Lucifer snorted out in laughter.
‘I’m glad you like it! You know when you knocked it away, I thought you were highly offended with how I portrayed you, so good to know that’s not the case!’ He teased and gae you a thumbs up.
‘Thank you.’
‘Well.’ Lucifer spun round, making his way to the door before pausing to speak over his shoulder. ‘Thanks to todays surprising turn of events, I need to hire a new maid.’ He paused for a moment before turning back round to fully face you. ‘Can’t have my honorary daughter run ragged , now can I?’
Later that night after both of you had taken some much needed time to calm down, Lucifer had made you sit at the dining table, whilst he served you for a change. Once you were both settled, he took the opportunity to press you a little.
‘So did you ever reach out to Charlie like I said a while ago?’ You chuckled nervously and rubbed at the back of your neck.
  ‘I didn’t really think it would be appropriate.’
‘Ah come one now, I was the one who bought it up! Plus I think it would be good for you.’
‘How so?’ You titled your had curiously and Lucifer sank back into his chair with a breathy laugh.
‘Charlie showers literally everyone she meets with love, and she’ll introduce you to loads of new friends.’
‘But-‘ You stopped yourself, really thinking weather or not you should even ask. ‘Will she even want to meet me?’ Lucifer’s face softened into a warm smile. He knew exactly what you were thinking. You were scared that Charlie would want nothing to do with you, considering the way you saw him now.
He sat up and reached over, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.
‘I grantee it.’
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chlorinecake · 5 months
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HELLO HELLO, CAN I REQUEST!??!?!
Asking enha legal line to "unwrap" you under the Christmas tree??? HEHEHE
❝ 𝒫𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉’𝓈 𝐹𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 ❞ ┈ legal!line imagines
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⍋ contains nudity, kissing, language, sexual themes, oral (f. receiving), rough sex (in heeseung’s), more suggestive than anything, 200-300 words per member
⍋ These get progressively less smutty as you continue reading, so the drabbles are arranged from oldest to youngest !!
⍋ a/n I switched up the plot for some of the members just so it wouldn’t get redundant [hope you don’t mind 🫶]
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이희승 :*: Lee Heeseung - Going to the living room in search for you, your boyfriend eventually found you sitting in front of the Christmas tree, glaring at him seductively in your wrapping paper costume. “Merry Christmas, baby,” you smiled as he drew closer to you, giving you a soft peck on the lips that immediately escalated into a tongue-against-tongue make out sesh. “Merry Christmas to you too, baby,” Heeseung grinned before you broke from the kiss, giving him a snarky look. “This wrapping paper isn’t very comfy, y’know?,” you said, only for things to escalate from there, this little surprise of yours turning him on way more than expected.
“Such a kinky little slut , aren’t you? Wanting me to fuck you under the Christmas tree first thing in the morning?” He said in a low growl, tearing through the wrapping paper. “Heeseun-“
“How about you be a good toy for me and let me have my way with you, yeah?” He interrupted your thoughts with a slam into your needy cunt, the tree lights glistening off your tears as he fucked you nice and hard for all the neighbors to hear. You tried pushing his hips away from you but he only pulled you closer, gripping your waist as he went crazy inside you. “That’s it baby, taking my cock so well. Tell me how good it feels. Tell me how good I’m fucking you,” he groaned hoarsely, your body sliding against the torn wrapping paper beneath you as you clung to his shoulders, sweet little cries falling from your swollen lips. “Feels so good, Hee... ‘love it when you use me like this.”
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박종성 :*: Park Jongseong, who got up a little earlier than you, headed straight to the kitchen to make you a special Christmas breakfast. Meanwhile, you busied yourself in the bathroom, wrapping paper and tape in hand to surprise Jay with something a little different this holiday season. “Guess who?” You chirped in a playful yet seductive voice, covering his eyes as he stood before the stovetop in his apron. He fanned your hands from his vision, turning to see your costume.
"Oh. I didn’t know we were doing presents first,” he smirked, turning off the fire and lifting you to the cabinet. “With the look on your face, I can’t say you seem too against it,” you teased, right before he parted your legs, tearing the cheap wrapping paper as your back met the cold countertop. You were putting up a front to rile him up, when deep down, you were the one craving to be touched more than anything. “Hmm,” he hummed through hazy eyes, taking in the view of your amazing figure as his hands ran all over you. “Well in that case, I suppose breakfast can wait a little longer,” he said, spitting in his hand before palming your bare pussy, his initially playful demeanor becoming much more dominant as things continued.
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심재윤 :*: Sim Jaeyun - You made yourself a makeshift mini skirt and bra out of wrapping paper and gift bows that morning. Why? Because you wanted to cheer up Jake with a silly surprise after he wasn't able to visit his parents for the holidays. He had just came back into the living room with a blindfold over his eyes as you instructed him to wear, clear tape sealing the imperfections in your costume. "What is this all about anyway,” he asked, slightly confused.
“Nothing, just keep walking,” you giggled playfully.
“I know that voice, angel… you're up to something, I just know it."
"Well why don't you take off the blindfold and find out then?”
He didn’t hesitate to remove the covering from his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips at the sight of you beside the Christmas tree, wrapped like a present. It made your heart flutter seeing that his smile returned, but it made something else flutter when he met you in the ground, removing the wrapping paper from your body with his teeth as you stared back at him with lust ridden eyes. It was only a matter of time before his mouth met your throbbing core, sucking on your clit as his fingers worked wonders in you, all in preparation for you to take him.
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박성훈 :*: Park Sunghoon - You woke up Sunghoon by calling his name in a sing-song voice. it took you a while to get past admiring his sleeping form before you brushed his hand with a tender kiss, waking him from his slumber. It was Christmas morning, and you figured what better way to start the day after being touch deprived thanks to your busy work schedules than with a little teasing? "Morning, baby," you smiled, leaning in to leave another peck to the mole on his nose, eliciting a groan from him coupled with a few lazy flutters of his eyes.
The cutest smirk creeped on his face as he felt you on top of him, slightly circling your hips. "What's all this," he groaned in a husk voice, noticing the gift wrap you wore around you. "A gift... for you... but only if you promise to let me stay on top," you cooed in a seductive tone. "On top, hmm?" He asked, grabbing hold of your hips as he rolled you to the other side of the bed, caging you beneath his broad figure, "like this?" His hand gripped the bed frame, the sight of his flexed arm muscles distracting you as you heard a tear in the wrapping paper, followed by cold air hitting your nakedness. "This’ll work for now, but only because I’m too horny to say otherwise.”
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김선우 :*: Kim Sunoo - “Tell me what you want for Christmas. Anything! And I’ll make it happen for you,” your cheerful boyfriend smiled, holding your hands tightly in his as you sat in the living room.
“What if I asked you for something silly?” You asked, shyly losing contact with his eyes as you crossed your legs. “Anything means anything, my love. It’s worth it for you, now tell me what you want!!” he giggled, tickling your stomach as you swatted his fingers. “YAHH, fine, okay, lemme think first," you sighed, eating one of the gingerbread cookies from the plate before it finally hit you. "Wait- Just give me oneeee second, I'll be back!" Sunoo had no idea what you were thinking, so you can imagine the shocked look on his face once you returned, wrapped up like a Christmas present.
"My question was supposed to answer what you want, not me," he smiled softly, pulling your arm as he leaned in for a gentle peck to your lips. "I knowww… and I'm getting to that part right now," you smiled, sitting beside the Christmas tree. "I want you to unwrap me… and underneath, there'll be a surprise for you, too." He didn't hesitate to start ripping at the paper, mirroring the excitement of a kitten until his eyes widened at the sight of the white lingerie set you wore beneath, dainty bows and silk fabrics captivating him. "____," he stuttered over your name as you pushed him on his back, straddling his nervous frame. There was still one more thing you wanted from Sunoo this Christmas, and judging from the look on his face, your minds were both in the same place now.
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양정원 :*: Yang Jungwon - He was busy getting extra covers for your movie night from your shared bedroom when he heard a terrorizing shriek from the other room. "Wonieeeee~" you cried out, making the most of your acting abilities. Obviously, you were perfectly fine, but you couldn't think of any other way to show off the wrapping paper two piece outfit you'd made than by making a big scene. "Baby, baby! Where are you?" He called out, sliding around the floor with his socks in a frantic search for you. That's when he heard you giggling in the living room, sighing slightly as everything started to sink in: you were messing with him.
"I should've known," he smirked in satisfaction and slight dumbfoundedness, taking in the view of your festive paper costume and complimentary Santa hat accessory. "Should've known what?" you asked teasingly, inching closer before pulling him into you by his lower back. He found it amusing, really… the way you tried to assert dominance over him, giving him a proud look that he knew would only take one of his kisses to wipe away.
"You're naughty, I get it..." he whispered, tossing the hat from your head before leaving a kiss to your temple. And another to your lips, then to your neck. "This now, movies later," he said in a deep voice, the wrapping paper costume you wore already long gone as his hands explored the red lingerie you wore beneath, his lips never leaving yours as your cold bodies grew more and more needier for each other.
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౨ৎ Tysm for reading! Not gonna lie, this was pretty shitty but maybe you guys will like it more than I do :)) Feel free to check out my enhypen bookshelf for more fun reads, and happy holidays ~
౨ৎ [Permanent] Taglist: @squoxle @ashgonedash @nikisdubblchococake @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33
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himegureisu · 3 months
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The Howler
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Summary: Your husband, Severus, receives a Howler from you.
A/N: This prompt randomly passed through my brain. I thought it would be nice. It did take a day or two to write but here it is! I hope you like it, this is the first time I'm writing for Severus x Reader.
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In the Great Hall, the breakfast banquet was served. Their students eagerly chattered among friends over good food and drink before classes. On the other hand at the High Table, small talk and occasional personal questions were exchanged.
That’s until the owls, in turn, the mail, came for the day.
Their tiny but sturdy claws carried various packages from letters, gifts, newspapers, and journal subscriptions. Among them, one particular barn owl was heading straight toward the High Table holding a distinct red letter.
From afar, Severus could see the owl, ignoring the House Tables, and coming straight for him. It wasn’t his owl. No, it was your owl. If it was your owl then…
“Oh dear,” Severus said,
By his side, Minerva, who was perusing her copy of the Wizarding World News stopped, to glance at him as the owl dropped the angry red letter above his plate.
“Severus,” she asked, the attention of other professors turned to him, “Is that a Howler?”
“Who would send our dear Severus a Howler?” Filius asked after,
You. His wife. Would send a Howler. You, who were undeniably cross after being forgotten.
Your owl chirped, Severus presented to her a treat, which she happily accepted before flying off. He stared at the Howler mentally preparing for the reprimand about to happen when Dumbledore said.
“Well go on, Severus, open it,” he urged, “I heard it is unwise to leave Howlers unanswered,”
So, he did.
“Severus Tobias Snape!” your voice echoed throughout the Hall, the student's attention on him, “You forgot about the move! I reminded you a thousand times when it was, and you still didn’t come.”
This time the Great Hall was quiet. Their attention focused on the tirade given to their most hated professor.
Let’s just say he wanted to die then and there.
“I know you hate handing your classes off to someone else, but I at least thought you’d make an exception for me!” you shouted at him in mind, “I moved across the continent for god sake! Do you know how much stuff I had? No! Do you know hard it was to transport all my boxes into the Manor? No! It was hard and that was with magic already. The only good thing you did was leaving the portkey because if you didn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to enter the damned Manor and would be standing outside of it looking like a fool!”
The Howler paused.
“I love you but if you don’t come home tonight to help me unpack, you’re going to find yourself locked out of your own house.”
The Howler combusted thereafter.
His colleagues were in shock at the message conveyed. His students stared in a mix of horror, amusement, and curiosity. On the other hand, he was so screwed. His composure slowly faltered upon deliberating what to do and quickly decided on the appropriate course of action.
To go home to you.
“If you’d excuse me for the day, Professor,” Severus addressed Dumbledore, standing up from his seat, “I need to make it up to someone,”
“You can take the rest of the week off, Severus,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling in wonder, “It seems you have some groveling to do,”
“That I do, Professor,” he answered, walking away then sighing, “That I do,”
Part 2 is up 💖
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mountainficss · 4 months
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i like the idea of a sweet neighbor!joshua. like just the sweetest guy ever that you wanna absolutely tear apart (in a good way).
he’d show up at your door three or four days after you moved in next door to him, introducing himself and presenting a sweet housewarming gift: a fluffy vanilla cake! he’d taken the time to spread frosting all over the top and around the layers, and neatly piped cute little frosting dollops all around the top edge. he would hand it over to you carefully, the dessert all sealed up in a cute glass cake tray. you’d smile at him gently, thanking him for stopping by and promising to return the favor. you’d study his pretty features, realizing how cute your next door neighbor was. his pure smile would make your stomach flutter, and you’d make a mental note to stop by his place later on during the week.
he’d think of you multiple times throughout the week, unable to forget the image of your kind smile when he handed you the cake. shua wouldn’t have expected a pretty girl to be moving in next door, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. his brain was full of questions about you. did he make a good first impression on you? are you having trouble adjusting to the neighborhood? did you like the cake he made for you? he’d find himself missing the sight of you, wanting to stop by your house again to get to know you better. you’d beat him to it though, ringing his doorbell and waiting patiently on his doorstep with a cute potted houseplant in your hands. he’d be shocked to see you on the other side of his door, but he’d be pleasantly surprised to see you again (totally not because he missed you or anything). he’d invite you inside shyly, practically grinning when you agree. he’d guide you inside, putting the little plant in the center of his dining room table and offering you a seat. he’d pull your chair out for you (like a true gentleman of course) and sit across from you after you’re settled. you’d both talk about everything under the sun, ranging from your careers to your hobbies and interests. you’d find yourselves getting lost in conversation, talking for hours and completely losing track of time. you’d apologize for staying so late and he’d walk you to the door, thanking you for talking to him for such a long time. you’d exchange numbers before you left, and he’d feel giddy knowing your number would be in his phone. his number. in his pretty neighbor’s phone. oh he’d be ecstatic! he’d find himself texting you in his spare time, thinking of you constantly and waiting for your texts :( meanwhile you would be thinking of him too, wondering when you’d be able to see him again.
you’d text him frequently, shooting him a text one day after you returned home from work to invite him over. he’d be brimming with excitement upon receiving your text, changing into a cute sweater and adjusting his hair in the bathroom mirror. he’d feel nervous knowing that this is the first time he’d be stepping into your home. he’d wonder if he should make some food to bring you, or put on a different sweater that you might like more. during his moment of overthinking he’d hear his phone ping, a text from you telling him he can come over lighting up his screen. he buried his worries for now, opting to just keep his sweater and show up at your door empty-handed.
he’d knock on your door lightly and you’d open it looking prettier than ever, despite just coming home from a long shift. his stomach would do nervous flips as he steps inside your home, the atmosphere cozy and comforting even though you moved in barely a week and a half ago. the warm lighting would make your face look soft and glowy, and joshua could hardly contain his excitement as you show him around your place. you’d grab his hand and lead him into the kitchen, asking if he wanted to eat a slice of cake with you. he’d blush at the sensation of your hand in his, noticing the tray of the vanilla cake he brought you when you first moved in. it would sit prettily on the counter, half of the slices missing from the dessert. he’d nod shyly, watching you cut him and yourself a slice. you’d lean against the counter, plate in hand and beginning to talk about your shift. shua would barely register what you were talking about though, his eyes practically glued to your lips. you’d just look so pretty to him, snapping out of his trance when you call his name softly. “joshua?” he’d flinch slightly at the sound of his name. “you okay?” he’d nod slightly, shifting a bit under the heat of your gaze. you’d find his flushed cheeks so cute, the thought of him squirming underneath you briefly crossing your mind. you couldn’t help but toy with him a bit, reaching a hand down to his lower stomach to play with the end of his sweater. “your cake was really good, you know,” you’d beam, lightly running the fabric of his sweater against your fingers. “you decorated it so cutely too! you’re a really talented baker, shua.” his face would be so red from your compliments, your hand hovering so close to him making him feel lightheaded. “oh, thank you! i um, wanted to bring you something nice to look forward to while you moved all your things in.” you’d smile innocently and set your plate down on the counter, dragging your thumb through the frosting of your slice and licking the frosting clean off. “well it’s definitely nice, that’s for sure. i’ve been eating slices of it all week!” you’d smirk mischievously at him, collecting more frosting on your index finger and leaning in close to smear it on the side joshua’s neck playfully. he’d let out a small gasp of surprise. “the frosting’s really sweet.” you’d purr, throwing your arms around his neck unexpectedly. you’d lean into him, pressing your hot tongue onto his neck and dragging the muscle up slowly, licking the frosting off his flushed skin. a whimper would escape his lips, caught off guard by the sudden intimate gesture. after licking all the frosting away you’d press gentle kisses to the expanse of his neck, his heavy breathing and small whines giving you the urge to ruin him. you’d catch his lips in a hungry kiss, feeling his breath hitch before your lips press against his. you’d taste like the sugary vanilla frosting, and he’d kiss you harder trying to chase the sweet flavor. you’d briefly pull away to tug his sweater over his head, hearing him whine at the loss of contact. you’d trace your fingers down his chest and torso with one hand as he kisses you again, your other hand fumbling to your plate and gathering frosting with two fingers. you’d spin him around so he’s leaning his back against the counter, smearing the frosting all over the bare skin of his chest and stomach. he’d moan at the sudden sensation, watching you lean down and drag your tongue all over his abs and chest. his cock would strain against his pants, the sight of your pretty eyes gazing up at him while you lick up his stomach making him even harder. he knew this would be a long night for the both of you.
you’d spend the rest of your evening eating sugary cake off your pretty shy neighbor’s gorgeous body and listening to his sweet sounds of pleasure :(((
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undercoverpena · 5 months
Text
under the stars
joel miller x f!reader | masterlist
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summary: joel finds that you become a thing of unnatural order, all ethereal as the moonlight kisses your curves.
wordcount: 3.7k warnings: post outbreak. smut. oral sex (m receiving). tying joel up with rope. cutting joel free with a knife. p in v. jo's spelling. feelings, but joel-feelings. softer!joel an: i've had this in my head for so long, getting it down on a page has been the whole wonderful, exciting and exhausting thing. i could sing forever about the moon. thank you to the most wonderful, and amazing @swiftispunk who i threw this at last night and made me feel like i am a goddess of the moon.
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Joel had learnt early on that you liked the night.
You’d handed it to him in puzzle pieces—flecks of information that he’d eventually be able to make a portrait out of. First, you’d handed him a story, then a statement and then a feeling.
The only times you didn’t like the night was when it was silent.
No wind in the trees, each branch crunching sounding for miles. You didn’t tell him with your words, but rather your body—frame closer, practically against him.
When he’d seen the abandoned train yard coming into view, he’d already considered it. The night had been closing in, the last embers of daylight casting shadows larger shadows across the tall, wiry grass.
“Ever stayed in a train?”
“Can’t say I have.”
He wonders a lot about the things you haven’t done. If you had a list of things you had hoped to tick off from a list before the world went to shit. Whether you had made a new one when you woke up one day and realised it was kill or be killed.
In another life, he wonders if you’d have been a nurse, a doctor, a baker or a typist—because there’s something about your hands. A soothingness about them wasted on holding a gun or slitting a hole in a person from jaw to pelvis. It’s something which passes over you more when the sun goes down. The sharpness in you fading, as though you truly become the thing you were always supposed to be when shrouded in night and the moon comes out to greet you.
He supposes the night is the constant. The unchanged force that arrived and vanished each day—a fixed point, a welcomed relief. Things don’t appear any more threatening in the dark, no more than the world was before.
Yet, Joel finds that you become a thing of unnatural order, all ethereal as the moonlight kisses your curves. It highlights the lines that bend, and illuminates the sheen which coats your skin as you stare back at him in gratitude, as though the way he makes you feel good can make up for all you were robbed of. He hopes to, not by being the thing you lie next to, but the thing which keeps you safe. A protector, a wall of muscle, bone and flesh that would rip if it meant keeping you whole.
It wouldn’t even matter if it were day or night.
Before it all happened, he’d never have considered that the night was more alive than the day. But he’d witnessed how it was. How the darkness provided by the sky was a gift, the moon licking shadows that added an illusion of safety, one he had used to his advantage.
Your words coaxing him, whispered, all hushed, we can take them—won’t even see us coming. You had been right. Staring up at the sky as you caught your breath, stars inside your eyes and a soul full of darkness.
As he glances over, you’re doing it now.
Peering up through the open hatch of the train roof, cross-legged, dragging his jacket further around your body as you stare, and stare, and stare.
Transfixed, lost. Kidnapped by memories, most likely, ones he won’t rip you from just yet.
He wonders if you had ever wished on them, ever stared up at them with hopefulness swimming in your eyes—their twinkle swirling in the pools of your gaze. Joel wonders whether you’d pleaded for something so hard under the night sky that your nails cut into your palms, only for everything to be robbed from you all the same. Had you ever seen a shooting star, and had you prayed on it for a future that included a white dress or a picket fence?
“Don’t they look so pretty, Joel?”
It falls from you like a whisper, almost innocent—far removed from the killer he knows you can be. From the gutless, powerful soul he sees rip through people when they make you spill crimson and try to take what isn’t theirs.
It’s almost easy, he thinks, to tell you that there’s something prettier next to him. Someone who could rival the prettiest of nights and the most gorgeous of days. Something that could have been fragile, but instead is strong, chaos imagined, all wrapped inside eyes he sees when he dreams.
Head tilting, you meet his gaze, and it’s too much—too strong. It's intoxicating. Feeling drunk off it—that feeling of normalcy you make him want.
“You ever had your cock sucked under the stars?”
You know he has.
Know that under leafless branches and an almost full moon you’d taken him in your mouth. All warm, welcoming—his fingers knotted on the back of your head, biting back each hiss, each grunt as he felt teardrops on the crease of his thighs and hips.
It doesn’t matter what his answer is, you’re already facing him, knees digging into the train floor. Your fingers already working his belt—a glimmer in your eye that has him half-hard already.
Because if lust had a look, he swears it would be you.
That look in your eyes always does something to him. It’s more than just being alive, it’s a glint, a spark of something that he swears would have had rows of people to their knees. Right now, it’s all for him. Only his.
A possessiveness rings through him at the thought; rising up in him when he lingers on it, that he has this with you—has this unlabelled thing where he sees all the shards of you, has met each part which makes you whole.
“I want you to try not touching,” you say, tongue dragging across your bottom lip, mouth close to his.
He wants to taste your request. Breathe it in. Have it merge with his insides, all because of the look that accompanies it. One that makes his jaw tighten, almost tick.
“You think you can do it, Miller? Think you can refrain from touching me until I say so.”
“Yeah,” he replies. “Sure.”
The latter catches on his teeth as the cool air brushes over his weeping cock once you free him from his clothing. Your head tilting, holding his stare as you lick a stripe up your palm, before wrapping it around him, pumping him. Tightening your fingers, murmuring about how hard he is for you, how thick he feels in your hand.
“We’ll see,” you smirk, pausing your ministrations, and lowering your head. "Fuck, your cock is perfect, Miller."
A retort brewed, ready to fire, shoot, land. Then, your mouth wraps around him.
Just the tip at first, pausing, all tentative. Your lashes close to your brows as you stare up at him—the moon painting you in a light which he swears he never thought possible. Because it only highlights the appetite you have for him, the starvation to take more of him.
It makes his fingers twitch at his side. Forces his thighs to tense under the need to grasp the back of your head. He refrains, even if it’s a battle he’s prepared to lose. In time.
For now, he wants more of this. Enjoy more of you licking the head of his cock, from humming around him, testing yourself as you try to take more of him, and more, and more—
A groan vibrates around him, making his eyes flutter closed. The battle having appeared sooner, slammed into him as you took more of him. Moaning sweetly around him, tongue swirling around the head when you come up before the tip hits the back of your throat all over again.
Joel doesn’t think of consequences, he just thinks of the need to feel himself in your throat. Letting his fingers move, slide around, brushing up your neck as you take as much of him as you can, mouth so stuffed—
“Hands, Miller.”
He groans, your tongue sliding up the base of him, lips hovering at the head before you trace your lips with him—those perfect, fucking lips—wiping him over you, smearing him.
“I’ll tie your hands down.”
His cock twitches, and you must notice from the way your brow arches, lifting up from him, bottom lip smothered in spit.
Joel finds most of the time, you have heavenly eyes and a hellish smile. A thing which shouldn’t remain, should have been stolen, ripped from you. Right now, you’re nothing but wickedness and darkness.
“Oh, Miller,” you say, voice lower, his name falling like silk. “Do you want me to tie you down? Stop you from touching me.”
He does.
A thing he doesn’t dare deny. His own eyes having caught sight of some frayed rope earlier, pointing it out, instructing—watching in awe as you move swiftly, boots hammering against the train floor, thudding and thudding until you’re on your knees either side of his, holding in both palms.
“Lie down.”
Your instruction carries weight, your body shifting as he lies down, your body crawling up him.
“Do it like—”
“You showed me?” you smirk. “I know how to keep you down, Miller.”
You lean back onto your knees, jean-covered cunt on his chest. Fuck what he’d do to move his hands from waiting for the circles of the knot you’re going to make—and pull you down to his mouth. Lets his breath puff warm air into the worn fabric, forcing it against your likely soaked core. Watch your lashes flutter as you try to make your identical loops, and see if you can think of overlapping them—whether you even make the knot, or let it fall to the wayside as you plead for his mouth, his tongue, his fucking teeth, before he manages to wriggle your clothing down your thighs.
He doesn’t find out, because he doesn’t move. Shadows disguise your expression, all except your smirk as you slide his wrists through the old rope—the frays tickling, brushing over his skin and hair, before with a pull, you tighten it—applying traction.
“Above your head,” you instruct.
You hinge at the hips, falling into the line of the moonlight. And, there’s a little gruffness to your voice, matching the pools of lust currently trying to swallow him whole—readying themselves to consume him, devour him. He doesn’t mind. He never fucking does.
Joel would willingly die in your eyes if he could—in the pair which sees him, all of him. Not afraid of the way he’s worn, the grief he carries, and the array of stories left in scars.
Best looking man I’ve ever killed for.
Only man you’ve killed for.
Fine. Best looking man I’ve laid my eyes on.
He’d succumb to you if you asked. More so, when you slide back down. The seam of your jeans brushing down his cock—the friction pleasant, warranted, needed.
He’s about to ask you to remove them. To bring yourself back up, allow him a taste, something to tide him over, reward you. He’d maybe even beg.
But, he swears your mouth is heaven. That he must have died mere moments ago. Each scrape of your teeth makes him hiss; each hollowing of your cheek makes him want to coat your tongue in his release. His fingers knot around the rope which binds him, hearing it trying to snap under the weight of his own frustration.
It cutting, grazing into flesh, especially as you take so much of him—further than you did before. Barely two fingers worth of him not down your throat, your eyes staring at him, holding his gaze, almost commanding it.
He pulls instinctually, wanting to grab the back of your head, hold you, stroke your neck, cheek—
But, then he ruts his hips into your mouth. Forcing a gag, a cough to arise from your perfect mouth.
“Careful,” he warns, as if it wasn't his doing. His eyes spot them, little streaks of tears which stain your cheeks, all quickly, tumbling and falling to his thighs. “Y’good for me. Fuckin’ perfect, in fact. But, be careful.”
Your tongue licks up the length of him, balls tightening as you graze your teeth over the underside—before he’s enveloped by you again, all warm, inviting, and then your throat squeezes around him.
He’s falling into it, the pool of pleasure—swimming it, bathed to the neck in it under stars and an almost full moon.
He’s sure your mouth is the meaning behind paradise and torture—both perfect and vicious—and he groans, at it. At the way, you swallow around him.
And he can’t take it.
Can’t handle it—
Wants nothing more than to come down your throat and make you taste him until morning.
Cause this is different than last time, and not because it's not a trunk his back is against. But, rather, because you're moon-soaked, kissed by the night. You're a thing he swears glows in the dark, leads a man to shore from choppy waters or could force a man to walk off a cliff.
You're pretty.
It's why he also wants to bury his cock inside you. Wants to feel you squeeze him, grasp for him, whine for him. You make him want, make him desire to possess you. Even if he'll never try to cage you, never tie you down, the thought, the wish, the desire is there. Just the same as how he wants to have you on top of him, under him, even bent over for him. Anything. Everything. All of it, all of you, all—
Mouth lifting off, your eyes glimmer, something there, growing behind your eyes. Spit tying you to him, a bead beginning at the tip of his leaking cock and ending at your swollen, puffed bottom lip.
Then you sneer. Devilishly, all fucking cunningly. “What did you think earlier, Miller?”
Hand taking him, wrapping it around as it moves in fluid motions. Grip how he likes it, a teasing speed that leaves him hovering there, so close to seeing a galaxy of his own and covering your face in his gratitude.
“Miller,” you mutter. "What, did you, think earlier?"
His throat goes dry, bone dry. Like those times when he hadn’t drunk for hours. And he pulls at the rope, wishing to tear himself free and silence your questioning by pushing you down, cheek to the side, sliding his cock inside you until you’re drunk on him, unable to think, ask.
He can feel his skin bruising, marks lacerating against flesh as he grunts at your knot. One he taught you, made you practice—something he knows you must remember from the wink you suddenly shoot him. And he knows from the smirk that cuts across your beautiful face, that the only way he’s going to get any release—is by telling you. Spilling the thing which should die in his throat, blacken, melt down into other things he’ll maybe one day tell you.
“If you want to come—“
Jaw gritting, he swears he could grind his teeth to dust.
Your hand remains poised, but not moving. His name leaves like a spell, but he knows it's draped in poison. Can tell from how it contaminates the air and makes him curse under its potency.
"Joel."
“Fine. I thought—thought y’prettier than the stars. Prettiest—fuck—” Your head dips, sliding the tip of your tongue along his slit, “—thing I’ve ever seen.”
Lifting up from him, bottom lip sliding across your upper lip—painting that in a mixture of his pre-come and your spit too—you slowly smile. “Wasn’t so hard now was it?”
Gritting his teeth, your breath ghosting over his mouth, eyes locked on him. Burying something light, warm, fucking lovely in his soul.
“Cut. Me. Free.”
Tilting your head, he sees your brow lift.
“Now.”
You blink, a thousand universes swirling in your eyes before you move for your knife. “Now?”
“Fuckin’ now, baby.”
You don't blink at the name, you just press the blade against his skin, so close to veins. Yet, he trusts you. More than he thought he would another person, another soul that wasn’t bound to his by blood.
Each slice of the blade against the rope cut through the air, his strangled breaths fading, even as his cock twitched, pleading for release. His eyes just remained on you—the maths of how he’d move you already calculated—watching the vein in your neck, the way spidery shadows cast on your face from your tear-stained lashes.
He felt the rope go slack before your knife stopped, moving in a flash, knife clattering as he flipped you onto your back. Hovering above, likely lit up by the stars and the moon—leering down on you, watching your chest rise and fall.
“So, you think I’m pretty?”
He growls, the button popped on your jeans before he rips them down as much as he can, moving enough to let you kick yourself free, before he plunges his tongue in your open mouth. Tasting, taking, robbing you of the words that you just spoke, the ones which made you cocky. Even if they were true.
But, he wasn’t good—was an animal, a thing carved from grief and the end of days. But then, you were in your own right too. Something that gnashed, scratched, and buried the softer parts of you deep under layers that had taken him months to unearth. To even find, locate.
The animal in you is what made him want to devour, but it was the softness that made him stand in front of you when branches crunched. It was the latter that made him want to pin you down against stiff surfaces and have you feel good, feel adored.
Taking his cock in hand, he drags the head against your soaked folds. Your slick coating him, sliding up and down, watching you, studying you—a sight full of stars, twinkling, pleading. Nails digging into his hips, an order, a demand.
In one thrust, he slides deep into you. Makes you his, like he does whenever you ask him to, when he can, each chance he can get. Never tiring of it, of you.
A thing he could say, fill your pretty little head with it and then fuck it outta you.
“Thinking about how much you like me, Miller?” you whisper, fingers moving up to scratch at his curls, to wrap them around your fingers. “Or, is it more than like, is that what it is?”
A tug, a swallowed groan. His mouth is on yours again—different than before.
A change, a thing the two of you never used to do, but one you do more frequently. Another thing he doesn’t hate. The change happened, and he realised he didn’t want to go back to the time before it. Not when your tongue plunged in his mouth feels good. When you lick at the back of his teeth, flooding his mouth with the taste of salt and remnants of the canned food from earlier.
“Thinking about how y’the most frustrating thing I’ve ever had under me.”
“Would you have it any other way?”
Buried to the hilt, fingers clasped around the space just above your collarbone, he stares into your eyes—wondering if the stars are ever jealous they never get to live in them.
No, he growls.
Your mouth falling open, a moan there, building on your tongue as he hits that spot—knows it, can tell from the way you lightly gasped. It is further evidenced by the way you grasp his hips, almost pinching when he drops onto his forearm above your head, freeing a hand.
“I do like fuckin’ y’under the stars.”
What began as a narrowing of your eyes, ended with a widening. The way it plays out could make him surrender to you every time, render him useless, even heal a shard of him that he thought was long since ruined.
Then, your mouth drops open, a moan emerging—rearing its head in an almost whine-filled cry, as he sticks a finger in, rolling it over your tongue, coating the pad of him in your spit before he slides his hand between your bodies.
And he knows you won’t last long. Not from the way you're clamping down, from the sounds you make—all beautiful, each rich, and fucking sweet. It’s why he drops his voice low, mouth to your ear, grunting your name, that you’re perfect, prettier than a sky full of stars—all the while drawing quick circles on your bundle of nerves, his hips maintaining a constant speed.
“Close, m’close,” you cry out, back arched into him, fingers finding refuge in his hair, face pinned by your forearms.
I know, he thinks, feeling you reach your pinnacle, hovering, hanging, before he delivers one quick thrust and you’re hurtling, spasming. Your body twists as your walls clench around him, coming on his cock, unravelling entirely as he picks up his speed, as he removes his hand from between you for leverage as he fucks into you. Just a few more, knees throbbing even through the pleasure, before his hips stutter, and he’s spilling inside of you, your name cutting into the air, scratching into it, marking it with each letter that makes it up.
Even before he collapses beside you, before breaths are caught, and your head finds that spot on his shoulder, that it’s coming. A look or your tone, that hint of gentleness you otherwise keep bottled up.
So he waits. Listen to the way your heart calms in your chest and your head feels heavy on his bone.
“Your secret is safe with me, Miller,” you whisper, not turning to look at him, just staring through the open hole of the train. “I won’t tell a soul you have a heart.”
Snorting, he swallows. “No one would believe ya if y’did.”
You hum, letting out a gentle breath.
And he just swallows the good he had almost whispered. Because if no one knows, it’s a thing people won’t try to take. And he can’t let you lose another thing, not when he’s sure the whole part of what remains of his heart, belongs to you.
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an: hope you liked this. i am a whore for the moon and the stars.
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prettypixels22 · 5 months
Text
Headcanons for spending Christmas with call of duty characters
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(feat. simon "ghost" riley, john "soap" mactavish, kyle "gaz" garrick, john price,
kate laswell, farah karim, alex keller, phillip graves)
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a/n: for context, in each section you’re referenced to have kids with each character and, although not explicitly stated, the reader is implied to be a homebody but these headcanons are kept gender neutral. if you continue to read, i hope you enjoy.
Simon “Ghost” Riley
Christmas is the best time for him to show how much he appreciates you and the kids
He’s not a bad parent, he’s always been very good with the kids
He provides for you all and takes care of them the best he can but he knows he can be emotionally distant at times
He can handle most situations involving his kids but when they get upset or argue with each other, he struggles and has to rely on you to help them
It’s not that he doesn’t want to emotionally connect with them, he just isn’t sure how and he’s not used to talking about his feelings
So gift giving is a good way for him to express that he does care and love you all
He likes both receiving and gifting things that are homemade or sentimental, he enjoys those kinds of gifts because they are specific to your little family and that makes it so special to him
Skulls become like a trademark to your family and tiny skull symbols are hidden in most gifts, wether it be a carving on a wooden item, an engraving on a piece of jewelry, an embroidery on fabric or even woven into those little bracelets kids like to make
Speaking of skulls, your kids definitely have skull designed sky masks that they used to stay warm when they play in the snow
The kids sit on the same sled and have Ghost pull them around, it’s so heart warming seeing your partner and children play while wearing the same masks like they’re a little family of ghosts
When your children go to bed, you talk to Simon about something they’ve been telling you recently, “The kids want a dog.”
You bring it up during one of those intimate times when he’s not wearing his mask and you feel like you can read his mind
Instead of the blank stare you usually see when all of his features, save for his eyes, are covered, you can see the slight changes in his expression
His eyebrows twitch and his jaw clenches, you can’t tell he doesn’t think it’s a good idea
“We can name him Riley,” you joke, “He can be our guard dog and protect us when you’re not around.”
Although you weren’t being serious, he actually started warming up to the idea
It wouldn’t be a puppy though, he’d take you to look at retired military dogs
There was one you two took a particular liking to, a german shepherd, he was a nice dog and in need of a good home but he also had the proper training to be able to protect you and the kids if need be
The kids loved him, of course, and he was very gentle with them, wagging his tail while they hugged and pet him
You ended up falling asleep to a Christmas movie, your family cuddled up together on the couch with your new dog
John “Soap” MacTavish
Johnny loves Christmas and eagerly waits for it to come around every year
There’s always a mountain of gifts around the Christmas tree
Half of the presents he bought, he purchased all the way back in January
He just gets so giddy seeing you and the kids enjoy his gifts that he immediately wants buy more after Christmas is over
Then when it finally gets close to December, you two have your kids’ Christmas lists to deal with
You two have to start wrapping them, at least, a week in advance because there’s no way you’re getting them all done in one night
Especially when you have to wait for the kids, who are pumped full of sugar from eating too many Christmas cookies, to go to sleep
So they get double the gifts and on top of that they get even more when you visit the MacTavish family (which is huge by the way)
Speaking of, when you do visit his family, you get to sit inside by the fireplace and drink hot cocoa with his parents and sisters and watch from the window while Soap takes your kids outside to play with their cousins and uncles in the snow
You get a front row seat to the comical scene of Johnny being hit with a snowball and dramatically collapsing to the grown, a swarm of children climbing over him and playfully attacking
He will play outside with his kids for hours, having snowball fights, building snowmen, sledding
He’d love to take them snowboarding one day, if only the military would grant him enough leave time to take them to a ski resort
While your kids play with their nieces and nephews, Soap will definitely try to sneak you away for some “alone time”
If you object to this and tell him him that you two need to go back and watch your kids, he’ll pull you into an empty room, large hands cradling your face as he tries to bargain with you, “Just lemme give you a quick kiss, bonnie. Hmm?”
But it’s never just a “quick kiss” and you don’t know how you keep falling for that
He’s so sweet when he’s affectionate, he’ll slow dance with you by the fireplace or run you a nice relaxing bath with rose petals, it’s a romantic and intimate way of showing you how much he loves you
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
Since joining task force 141, he’s had to spend more time away from you and the kids then he’s used to
He misses you all a lot when he’s away but it makes each Christmas that much more special because he has to cherish every second he spends with you and your children
You two usually plan for Christmas together but since he’s been away you do most of the planning and he helps as much as he can when he finally returns home
If you’re cooking something and he knows what ingredient you’ll need next, he’ll grab it for you and set it on the counter before you even have the chance to ask
He also keeps the kids distracted so you can focus on dinner by building gingerbread houses with them, which were a lot harder than he was anticipating and by the time they got the house to stand, there were globs of frosting everywhere with gumdrops and mints scattered across the kitchen table
He cleans it all up though along with any mess you might’ve made while cooking dinner, he cleans the dishes and pans that you’ve used so you don’t have to worry about it later and wipes down the counter
You’re more excited than usual to invite your in-laws to Christmas Dinner
You’ve grown super close to them since Gaz joined Task Force 141, they were your rock during his absence
If you ever needed help with the kids or were just lonely, they would welcome you into their home with open arms
You’d sit with them and talk about how you missed Gaz or how good of a father and partner he was
They’d reminisce about raising him and the childhood they worked so hard to provide for him, going through a photo album of baby Kyle and explaining the backstory behind each picture
Throughout the dinner Gaz sees how close you’ve gotten with his family and it’s not just you, his kids have also grown accustomed to seeing their grandparents regularly
That Christmas is so hard for him because he just wants to be able to be with you and kids again
He knew what he was getting into when he joined 141 and he still believes in the cause but seeing his family get along and be happy makes it a challenge for him not to go back to the SAS
“You know I love you, right?” He’ll ask after dinner. He start saying it a lot more often because if something does happen to him, he doesn’t want their to be a doubt in your mind about how much he loves you and the kids
As the end of his leave time approaches, he kisses you nonstop and holds you and the kids tight, knowing he’ll have to say goodbye soon
John Price
Every year there’s at least one gift that relates to the military
It all started when your son wrote that he wanted nerf guns on his Christmas list one year
That Christmas you and your husband watched your son and daughter go to war with one another, running around the house and hiding under tables, trying to shoot each other with foam bullets
Price thought it was hilarious and the kids clearly enjoyed it, so he started gifting them foam weapons and toy sets with fake knives, grenades and binoculars
He enjoys watching his kids play with each other and was particularly amused one day when your son was army crawling around in the grass trying to sneak up on his sister
That next Christmas he got your son a ghillie suit which he became absolutely infatuated with
You’d call the kids in for dinner and your son would walk in looking like a mountain of grass
That one gift was what started the tradition of gifting actual military gear
While your daughter just likes getting things she and her brother can play together with, your son becomes interested in actual military equipment
His Christmas lists will start to include things like a tact helmet or vest
One time, he got them both night vision goggles which sucked for you because when he had to leave the kids wanted to stay up all night and play in the dark
(Side note: His kids have definitely picked up on words that relate to the military and war but they don’t fully know what the words mean so they’ll say things like “homework is propaganda”)
Something oddly specific that Price is thankful for is the fact that the older his kids get, the longer they want to sleep in
He loves watching the kids get excited from seeing the present under the tree and all but he enjoys the few hours he has in the morning where he can just hold you close
You two already don’t get to have a lot of time together because of your husband’s line of work and having two children didn’t help since most of your attention revolves around them
He cherishes the mornings where everything’s calm and quite and you’re curled up in his arms without a care in the world
Kate Laswell
She’s very efficient went it comes to buying the kids Christmas presents
When your kids write their Christmas lists, you two split the responsibility, she buys half and you buy the rest
It minimizes the time you have to spend buying gifts and you two usually get it done early so there’s no last minute present hunting, it makes the process quick and painless
During the week of Christmas, you two would take your kids to a café so they could have sweet treats for breakfast and a nice hot chocolate with a small candy cane to stir the piping liquid
After that you’d walk down the street, checking out different gift and pop-up shops so the kids could get Christmas souvenirs
Kate loves taking pictures of you all during the holidays and would definitely take your kids to get their pictures taken with a mall Santa
All of the photos would go in a photo album she has of all the happy memories and milestones you’ve all had over the years
The night before she has to leave for work again, you two sit on the porch and watch the snow fall
Your ears pick up on the sound of a quite ‘flck’ and you turn to see your wife lighting a cigarette, “Kate.”
A small chuckle escapes her lips, she knows how much you hate when she smokes, “It’s Christmas. Humor me, just this once.”
You don’t want your last night together to be a fight so you don’t push the issue but you don’t hide your disapproval either, “Those things are bad for you.”
She takes your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers, “Believe me, I’ve been through worse.”
You know she has and it’s why you worry each time she’s away, you brush your fingers against her knuckles, “Do you have to go?”
“Unfortunately,” she exhales the smoke from her cigarette, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “But I’ll be back before you know it. I promise.”
Farah Karim
Similar to Ghost, she’s a good parent but sometimes struggles to connect with them emotionally
Your kids would absolutely adore her though
I mean, she’s the most badass role model any kid could have
They always make sure she’s involved in activities, even if she’s too busy to actual partake
She’ll be talking to one of her soldiers on the phone when, all of a sudden, her kids run up to her to hand her Christmas treats and hot cocoa that they made with you
She tends to think of her brother a lot during the holidays, gifting her kids things that she and Hadir enjoyed as children
She doesn’t ever want them to go through what she went through with her brother, first losing her parent and the Hadir turning on her
She teaches them to respect each other and will immediately shut down any fights they have
She appreciates that you light three candles each Christmas for her brother and parents, it’s a subtle acknowledgment of the family she’s lost without crossing any boundaries or opening up old wounds
Although a big portion of her time is preoccupied by the work she’s does to protect her homeland as well as you and your children, she always makes sure that on the holidays there will be a few days where her focus is solely on you and the kids
The kids eat this up and immediately put her to work, they love having her undivided attention and all the Christmas activities she wasn’t able to do before they have her do now
They’ve already make Christmas cookies with you so they’ll make gingerbread houses with her
I also think that because her soldiers are like family, they’d hold a small ceremony where each each soldier brings their loved ones and they pass around little homemade gifts that they made with their family
On the night of Christmas, you and Farah sit in front of the three candles you had lit, in a few minutes it’ll be twelve am and Christmas will officially be over
”Do you want to have the honor of blowing them out?” you ask
She gives you a soft smile, “I’ll let them burn a little longer.”
She wonders if her parents and brother can see her, if they’re glad to see her living a happy life with you and the kids
You move closer, wrapping an arm around her, “I’m sure they’d be proud of you, Farah. So proud.”
Alex Keller
I feel like he’d be such a good girl dad
On Christmas Eve morning, he’d be laying on his stomach in the living room with his daughters sitting on either side of him
Christmas movies would be playing in the background, his youngest letting him pick the colors for his hundredth friendship bracelet while his oldest crochets a snowman with a red and green scarf
His daughters are very crafty so they’d enjoy decorating the house and Christmas tree
After Thanksgiving when all of the Christmas stuff is on display, you’d take the girls shopping for lights, ornaments, tinsels, etc.
Alex will lift your youngest daughter so she can string up decorations while your oldest tells her if something needs to be moved to the right or left so everything’s perfectly even
They also like frosting Christmas cookies but instead of just slapping random colors on the cookie, they pick colors that look pretty together and try to be as neat as possible which contradicts their fathers hot mess of an icing job
You wouldn’t be surprised if they decided that they wanted to pick up cookie frosting as a hobby
There are things that Alex was able to do before, like run around with the kids in the snow, that he can’t do now because of his prosthetic leg
The girls don’t mind though, they actually go out of their way to make sure he’s comfortable, even treating him like he’s made out of glass at times despite the fact that he’s still actively fights in Urzikstan
But it’s sweet how much they care about their father and his well-being
While you’re cleaning up after dinner, Alex will wrap his arms around you from behind, his mustache tickling your skin as he presses soft kisses to your neck
He thanks you for dinner and tells you how good the food was
In turn, you tell him how much you and the girls miss him while he’s away, you jokingly add on, “I was hoping your leg would be enough to make you retire.”
He laughs at that and promising you that it won’t be long now, soon he’ll finally return to you and the kids for good
Phillip Graves
Considering he and Shadow Company work for whoever has the most money, you know he can afford anything on his kids Christmas list
He’ll send you a large sum of money while he’s away so you won’t have any trouble buying presents and the gifts he get you are usually quite expensive
In the weeks leading up to Christmas, you two message each other nonstop
You talk about what you got the kids, what you’ll be making for Christmas dinner, when he’s coming home, things like that
He’ll send you flirty text like “you know what I want for Christmas?” with a winky face or “Wear something pretty when I come home.”
The kids are always excited when their father comes home, they tell him what they wrote down on their Christmas list and which gifts they’re really hoping they get
He tells them that they better be good if they want all those presents, knowing damn well that you’ve already bought every single thing on those lists
I feel like he’d prefer a real tree over a fake tree for no other reason besides the fact that it looks better so each year he takes the kids to look at Christmas trees and, of course, the kids along with their father always want the biggest most badass looking tree
He’ll bring a tote bin up from the basement that’s full of last year’s Christmas decorations and you’ll all decorate the tree as a family
You cringe each time you watch pine needles fall as you wrap the tree in lights and tinsel, you know it’ll be a pain to clean up when Christmas is over but you let it happen every year anyway because you see how happy it makes your husband and children
When Graves puts the kids down for bed, you know exactly what he’s gonna do next
He exits the kids bedroom, closing the door behind him, and he’s on you in seconds
His lips capture yours in a heated kiss as he walks you towards your shared bedroom
“We need to wrap the kids’ presents-,” you try to remind him but he cuts you off with a kiss and tells you, “We can do that later, baby.”
photo creds (pinterest): goldeagleactual - ghost, soap/price, farah/alex | SimpsxCod - gaz | cavantine - kate | julikuli666 - graves
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schelamski · 5 months
Text
Things Haikyuu Boys would do in a relationship (pt. 4)
-Ushijima, Tsukishima, Oikawa, Bokuto, Osamu
Part 1: Sakusa, Kita, Asahi, Hinata, Tendo
Part 2: Nishinoya, Iwaizumi, Suna, Kuroo, Yaku
Part 3: Kenma, Kageyama, Terushima, Akaashi, Atsumu
⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆
Ushijima Wakatoshi: Helping you put a necklace on
Wakatoshi likes to spoil his girlfriend, especially on your birthday. Right now you are struggling to put on the beautiful necklace that he gifted you, special to you because of the engraving on the back. “Toshi can you help me?” you ask him and his hands are immediately on your neck, closing the necklace around it. He is looking at you in the mirror while letting his hands linger a little longer than necessary on your nape before putting your hair back in place and stretching out his hand to take you to the dinner reservation he made to celebrate your special day.
Tsukishima Kei: Deep convos about random shit
Normally he doesn’t talk that much and especially not over something so seemingly unimportant but with you he is conversing without any snarky remarks or hesitation. Kei could talk for days about the deeper meaning of a recent book you two happen to have read, a theory regarding his most beloved fossils or everything else that’s running through his head. You always admire his way of thinking and you are happy each time he gives you insight on what’s happening in this smart head of his. The way you are listening and talking to him never fails to make him want to shut up again and just kiss you, after all he is better at showing his emotions through actions than words.
Oikawa Tooru: Having a special song
It was the song that was playing in the small copy shop where you were waiting to receive your printed pictures when you met Tooru. He wanted to print out some pictures to craft a photo album for his nephew when he noticed you humming the melody of the song absently. On your third date in a mini golf arena the song started playing again and since then it’s been the song to which you have the best memories. If he ever gets the chance to marry you, he wants this song to play during your first dance.
Bokuto Koutaro: Randomly looking at each other and saying, “I love you so much”
Currently you were suffocated with the weight of your boyfriend who was laying on top of you but you wouldn’t be able to catch a breath anyway because suddenly he told you that he loved you. That was the first time he told you and you weren’t able to say it back until he moved to look at you because you’ve been silent for too long. After that it happened at the weirdest times. For example, when Kou asked you which type of rice to bring or when he walked in on you sitting on the toilet or even in front of all of his team when you came to watch the MSBY team practice. After hearing it some more in unexpected situations you even started to learn to say it back to him in time.
Miya Osamu: Hugging the back of them and putting your face on their shoulder
There is no better feeling after a long exhausting day than coming home to find Samu standing in front of the stove working on some meal for you to eat. You make your way into the kitchen and collapse against his broad back while leaning your face on his shoulder, humming in appreciation. You follow him around the kitchen like this until he leads you to the table and places a plate of incredibly good smelling food in front of you and him. Over dinner you ramble to him about your day during which he reminds you with a soft smile to eat before the food gets cold. After the dinner you two spend the rest of the evening cuddling on the sofa, both enjoying the soothing warmth of each other’s bodies.
⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆
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