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larcenywrites · 1 month

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For Love, We Sin the Most

Nightcrawler x Reader

Technically spoilers if you read any x-men anthology and haven't made it through second coming/ haven't read quest for nightcrawler. I don't get into many details or stay very canon anyway lol

Word count: 2,650

Summary: The resident catholic is having a hard time settling with the terms of his resurrection and just trying to feel again.

When Rachel frantically called on you to find Nightcrawler, you probably preferred to find him in battle, fighting demons. Luckily, on a Sunday morning, you knew exactly where to look first, creaking open the large wooden door just enough to pass through into the small lobby. The lights were off, but there was low singing from further inside. You would have proceeded to peek past that second set of doors, but the quick flick of blue that curled out from the sunlight and into the shadows nearby finished your investigation for you.

Well, you did, in fact, find him fighting demons.

This would normally be the part where you'd tease him about being terrible at hiding, but you didn't need to see his face to hold your tongue. Instead, you found a nearby panel of switches, flooding his side of the room in low light. Without the darkness, he could no longer blend and hide, but he didn't recoil. Hunched over, his hands were clasped together on his knees, and his tail tightly curled over his feet. You approached him wordlessly. You could tell he was focused but not on you, proven when he crossed himself right on cue. A cue you hardly heard yourself.

He continued to sit still for a few minutes. Obviously, he knew who stood before him. Otherwise he would have hid. Taking a deep breath, you placed a hand on his shoulder. "Shouldn't you be attending the service?" You asked softly.

"I," he finally choked out after several moments. "I'm not sure I am allowed to anymore." His words, although quiet, dripped with despair. For him, this welcoming foyer was his ancient narthex, created for those who weren't allowed into the sanctuary but still wished to listen to its sermon.

"Have you spoken to a Father about it?" Without further knowledge, you can only suggest a priest.

"And what would I say?" Kurt raised his voice in his anguish and grimaced at his own volume. "What would he say?" He tagged on, much quieter this time. He practically curled into himself as if he were cold. You sighed sadly at the sight, looking away. A small staircase in the corner caught your interest and gave you another idea. Reaching your hands down to his, you unfurled his hands from one another and took them into yours. At the gesture, he finally lifted his head to look at you. It took all you could not to take his sad face in your hands instead.

"I think he would tell you to come in," you reply in a gentle whisper. You smile down at him as you barely tug him towards you, convincing him to stand. When he finally does, you study him. His black blazer and black slacks, his white button-up shirt. A few top buttons were messily undone, but it only made him more handsome. Silently, with a hand in his, you led him up those wooden steps. Your intuition was right when they opened into a high balcony overlooking the inner room. That narrow gallery stretched against the wall was mostly dark, with only the tops of stained glass windows bleeding in light over the single row of benches. There was a reason someone like him chose such a dark, unpopulated church.

As you began to leave the doorway, deadweight stopped you in your tracks. Looking back, a pair of downcast yellow eyes glowed under the wooden arch. Naturally, he blended into the shadow. You came back to him, taking his other hand and settling between him and the wall. At the very least, maybe it would help for him to see this place again, you figured. You let him listen, watching him closely as he watched the floor.

And what a horrible day for a sermon about heaven.

"I saw it, you know," he barely spoke up, accent whispering like a snake. "Paradise." He said the word hauntingly, not with any grandeur nor remorse. He turned his head as he spoke, looking down at the alter, but he seemed distant. Perhaps in memory. The light of the window caught his eye and reflected brilliant pale yellow. In the darkness, the other was like fire.

"And yet you came back," you whispered back. Even you weren't quite sure what you meant by it, but he knew it wasn't merely an observation. Contemplating, he stared down into the room. The priest below continued, but you only wanted to hear whatever else Kurt had to say.

"There were many reasons I did what I did," he soon continued, still not looking at you. "Did it the way I did." He never told you the full story, not even Logan knew. You waited for more, but he didn't respond. He probably didn't want to talk about it—at least, not for another few minutes.

"I never thought that love would be my greatest sin," he finally said. "I wanted so badly to come back," he nearly sobbed, quickly putting his hand over his mouth to keep from interrupting the service below. He gathered himself for a few moments.

"To this place," he continued, "to my friends," he sighs before turning towards you, his fiery orbs still refusing to meet your gaze, "to you." Even when you cupped his cheek in your hand, his hand you left behind followed, fingers wrapping around your wrist. "That it would be greater than my love for God," he started but didn't finish when his voice began to rise again. By now he was rambling about things you hardly understood, but you hung on to every word.

"You said it yourself," you gently tease, more loving than lighthearted. "There is no love without sin." With a soft smile, your touch on his cheek stroked over the fur on his neck and drifted over what bare upper chest those undone buttons revealed. You knew you shouldn't, not here, but as his expression only grew more somber, you found yourself sliding your hand further, reaching the space above his heart for only a second before frantic yet gentle fingers pulled you away, afraid of what you'd find.

Or the lack thereof.

You couldn't stand to see him so sad, not even willing to look at you. As the preaching continued somewhere down below, something about fulfillment, there was really only one thing on your mind as you continued to watch his pained eyes. "Do you miss it?" You didn't mean to let your emotion ring in your tone as you whispered— doubt, disappointment, sadness. He picked up on it, raising his face once more to meet your gaze. Solemn eyes panicked, realizing his mistake. With a change of posture, he stepped closer, grasping your arm and placing your palm over his chest again. "Not in the same way I missed here," he reassured you. His eyes were still sad, but so earnest. You could feel the metal cross hanging from his pendant with how hard he pressed your palm into his chest. You both stared at one another in silence, but understanding.

Something about the word doom was quietly uttered through the archway.

"I realize now that I had already found Paradise," he proclaimed longingly, leaning in slightly. Though flattered, you only half-smiled.

"You shouldn't talk like that here," you whispered, cupping his jaw. "Surely it's a sin."

And he'd already cut his path of redemption short enough.

"And yet it would be a sin not to." His tone was almost desperate. He leaned in closer, head tilted dangerously close to a kiss. You began to protest, but his grip on your arm tightened in defiance. "My soul is already adrift elsewhere," he hissed in a hurried whisper, "and He has no use for my body." He shook his head in defeat, tilting his chin to kiss the hand that held him before looking back up. "So if it's all I have left, I will use it to worship who does." His voice cracked against your lips, and he practically fell into you.

Your back hit the wall with a thud that made you panic, but any protest of his name was muffled and lost between his lips. He could only follow what made him feel at the moment, and he'd come to his senses later, but right now, he was desperate to atone for his sins in a different way. It was a long, suffocating kiss that was touch-starved, hardly focused on any particular pleasure other than the need for your warmth. Despite knowing your current circumstances, you relaxed into him, taking your hand from his face and gripping the soft, indigo curls on the back of his head. He took that as his cue to press into you impossibly more, knees knocking with yours as you both nearly buckled from his weight.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to catch his breath, warm breath fanning against your cheek a few times before eagerly diving back in. This time, he moved with you. Your noses knocked each time he rolled his head to find his favorite angle, and, in annoyance, you tried to hold him still with your hand on his neck and your grip on his hair. In response, his lips parted, tongue lapping at your top lip and tentatively touching yours when you let him in.

His grip on your waist was harsh, almost as if he was scared that if he let go even a little, he might lose this moment forever. As if he couldn't hold you enough, his tail joined in, wrapping itself beneath your ass and tightly snaking around your waist. You felt him smile into the kiss when you pet over the peach fuzz of his tail before he abruptly pulled away from your lips, tongue sliding over your bottom lip as he withdrew into your neck. Sweetly, he kisses your pulse. And you know where he's going.

"We should 'port somewhere else," you suggest softly. The light kisses on your neck become open-mouthed and wet, showing you just what he thinks about your suggestion. You catch the words reunion with God bouncing off the wall, and you weren't sure if the devil himself said it or the clergyman was sermonizing below. You tilted your head back for him at the prickling feeling of his fangs.

With a mind of their own, your hands worked down the rest of the button on his shirt, splaying your fingers through the velvety fluff of his chest, barely able to feel the warm beating of his heart. At least you knew that he was alive, in some way or another.

Making sure you could feel all of him, you pushed his blazer and shirt off his shoulders, feeling him down and scratching over his abs just the way he used to like it, and he tensed them just the way you remember.

When his hands left your hips to slide off his clothes, they came back to do the same to you, sliding under your top and over your bare skin. You let him undress you, and eventually, you both stood nude.

Even after being… gone for so long, he remembered just where to touch you. He held your hips flush with his while licked over your nipple, pawed between your legs, and tickled your inner thigh with the curling of his fuzzy tail. Feeling boneless, the wall helped him to hold you up while you focused on covering your mouth to muffle your pleasured moans and sighs.

You were suddenly spun around, strong arms wrapped tightly around you as they swiftly lowered you to the wooden floor. Kurt's lithe form settled between your legs, back bowed as he bent down to mouth over your stomach. On his knees, he worshiped you carnally, hands gripping over-excitedly at your thighs and waist.

Fingers around your wrist pulled your hand from your mouth, quickly replaced with that crushing pair of full lips again. Some would say he was desecrating holy ground, but Kurt would say quite the opposite. In a nest of clothes, right there in the dark loft of his place of faith, he took you. Whether it was because he was most comforted here or because he was angry at the circumstances, his hips pumped into you with a fervor that had you clawing into his back and biting his shoulder to muffle your whines.

The floor was cold and hard and uncomfortable as he rocked you back and forth, but he was the opposite— warm and soft and lovingly fucking you into the ground. Luckily, the pious music drifting through the doorway covered up the sound of his cock slapping into you and his hissing moans as you bit and carved the punishment of love into his skin.

You were ripped from his shoulder when he sat up, not even bothering to cover your gasping moan at the change in angle. Blunt nails dug into your skin as he held your hips, making your legs squirm and draw up behind him with the overstimulated pleasure.

It was like a perverse religious painting, with his cross pendant wildly swinging above you and fangs gleaming along with his eyes; his tail, pointed like a devil's, bound your legs around his waist. This was heaven to him right now, watching you arch your back off the ground and eyes fluttering heavily as you both found that perfect sweet spot.

It was when you came on him that his glowing eyes beheld the glorious sight he was searching for. He kept going, desperate to keep the image of your moaning, parted lips in his mind, and keep the feeling of your warm cream that dripped over his cock. "Oh~ mein gott," he growled at the way you tightened around him. You could almost laugh at the way he said it if you weren't busy trying to recover. "(Y/N)," he panted and spoke your name like gospel. "My dearest."

Your only response could be a meek whimper of his name, but it was enough when you weakly rolled your head to look up at him. If you couldn't tell by the way his brows raised and furrowed, you knew that he was right on the edge by the constriction of his tail around your ankles, keeping you bound around him while he came, throbbing, deep inside you.

It was quiet now, aside from panting and the sounds of the congregation conversing and slowly departing that same creaking door that got you here in the first place. You felt you could finally relax and close your eyes when the last of the noise was shut out with the door, and you could finally stretch out your legs again as you felt his tail unravel. He had the same idea, stretching out his legs when he fell into your side. He let you have your space, but that sneaky tail laid loosely over your thigh.

You felt a sort of regret for him as you turned to take in the proper view of his nude form lying elegantly in your bed of disheveled clothes, wishing to know what this meant for him… but you weren't going to ask, letting him bask in release— whatever kind it was. You reached for his pendant, twirling the chain between your fingers and observing the discoloration of the metal cross. Without even opening an eye, he took your attention away from it with a touch, making you hold his hand against his chest instead.

"I-" You eventually break the silence but pause, unsure what excerpt you should say. It gets his attention, eyes lifting to look into yours. You muster a smile. "I'm glad you're back," you say softly, simply. Despite the circumstances, despite what it meant, despite what it's already done to you, you wanted to add, but his own bittersweet smile already knew what you meant.

"Me too," he whispered and brought your hand up from his chest to kiss your knuckles. "Me too, my dear."

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yesimwriting · 7 months

Note

okay but after the whole lucy gray thing we know coryo was done with “love” and everything BUT what if during the following year of thg he ends up falling in love with another tribute also from district 12 and he’s just going through it bad (again) however he somehow ends up actually getting the girl in the end, maybe even buying her way into the capitol

A/n I've been thinking about a very specific part of this since i first read it but i told myself no more fic writing until i finished at least one of my essays for finals seasons 😭

also ik in the book (and it's implied in the movie) that after the events of the book he lives with the plinths, but let's pretend he lives on his own with access to the plinth fortune for privacy

ik that makes it sound like it's smutty, but it's not lol

----

Proximity aggravates distance. The closer you are to something, the more damage any remaining space causes.

The few feet dividing the two of you have no right to jab at something inside of him the way it does. It's bad enough that instead of going to bed after a long night of fulfilling his apprenticeship duties under Volumnia's watchful eye, he stopped by your apartment. Only one floor away from his.

For months, the only thing holding the two of you together had been memories of those few nights before the Games.

Coriolanus's attempt to remain indifferent towards you had quickly failed, and his backup plan of learning to loathe you had proven to be just as useless. So he settled on letting you unabashedly take his hand whenever fear overwhelmed you and committing the way your kind eyes watched him to memory.

You're looking around the room--his room--openly, eyes darting from the mahogany surface of his desk to the details elegantly carved into his bed frame.

His fingertips itch with the uncertain desire to reach for you. You've only been in the Capitol for about a day and a half. Less than 48 hours. But the move, the beginning of a program for certain, qualifying victors and their families, had been planned for months.

You shouldn't feel like a phantom that'll vanish if he lets go for too long. "What are you thinking about?"

The question grounds you the same way it did last time he asked. You do your best to hide it, but you're still adjusting, still surprised that he managed to find a way to bring you together again. Just like he promised. Your doubt isn't personal, a fact he has to remind himself of.

"I'm just..." You tilt your head slightly, gaze retreating from the royal blue wallpaper and silver trim of his bedroom walls, "Analyzing."

The comment is followed by an easygoing smile that pinches at something in his chest. His new apartment, the penthouse of one of the largest buildings in the city, another gift from the ever flowing well that is the Plinth fortune, still reeks of former poverty. The few things that hint at the personal are hidden behind layers of desperate wealth so thick the items might as well be standard.

A lifetime spent in 12 means that there's no way you can read between the lines. He can't decide if your perspective will make this room look worse or better. It's a nice bedroom, definitely grander than any bedroom you've stood in before...but it's understated. Maybe even disappointing to someone like you.

"Analyzing?"

You turn fully, "A bedroom says a lot about a person."

"You might get more out of analyzing my study," an oddly school boy worthy partial truth slips out before he can stop himself, "I think I've been spending more time there than here recently."

You shake your head once, eyes landing on the crimson red vase filed with crisp white roses his grandma'am had gifted him on his last visit. Her pride and joy now more than ever. "I'm seeing all I need."

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's the most genuine expression that's slipped past him in weeks. When he first worked out a way to bring you here, some doubting part of him wondered if the draw he felt towards you would still exist in person.

Less than two weeks after your victorious departure from the Capitol, he had searched through your files and found your address. He had written the letter in a moment of weakness and only sent it after deciding that writing a letter to never be sent is the only thing more pathetic than writing to you in the first place. He had spent the week following that wallowing in self loathing until an age-stained envelope arrived at his door.

"And what are you seeing?" He keeps his tone light. This is ridiculous. He dragged himself and his family out of a gutter clogged by the casualties of war. Coriolanus is stronger than fleeting emotion now. Your opinions on his room can't possibly affect him.

If he were to simplify what brought you here, to the Capitol, to him, he could blame it on his bedroom. The urge to see you, to figure out some way the two of you closer together before your undeserving district could swallow you whole in an attempt to make you like them, would flare up whenever he received one of your letters.

Those urges, however, had never burned him. Not until you wrote about wanting to see him out of the most curious nostalgia you'd ever felt. You wanted to see him in a way that'd let you know what his room looked like, in a way that'd let you guess at his favorite color.

He takes a few steps forward, making the conscious decision to not reach for you. You've never rejected his advances, not even when he instinctually intertwined your fingers after picking you and your family up from the train station. You had scolded him after, telling him that you'd hear no end of it from your mother. It took a lot of focus for Coriolanus to not smile at that. You spoke of it like it would've never occurred to you to just pull your hand away.

Your eyes shift from end of the room to the other. Coriolanus moves carefully, passing you before sitting at the edge of his crisply made bed.

"Before you make your decision..." You turn instinctually, expression so polite and expecting he almost doesn't know how to bear it. His hand briefly pats the space beside him in a silent invitation. "So you can see it from all perspectives."

Your head tilts slightly, and for a moment, Coriolanus can practically feel your rejection. Then you move, sock clad feet treading over smooth white-gray marble. You sit next to him so assuredly, anyone else would have taken the way you neatly fold your hands in your lap as politeness instead of a display of nerves.

Your family's presence makes you less pliable. It's a factor he's willing to work around considering that you would've never left them to come to the Capitol. And even if he had managed to talk you into it, your nostalgia and homesickness would've made you more of a ghost to him than before.

At least the position your family's in is uncertain enough to allow for some leeway in the social norms that you cling to. However, every once in awhile it hits you that at the end of the day, he's still a boy that you're close to, which means that it's your duty to create the distance necessary to keep everything proper. Leaving your bedroom in the middle of the night because said boy knocked at your door and then entering his room in his empty penthouse is something you would've done under normal circumstances.

But your connection isn't that black and white. If it was something so simple, he would have been able to sever it the night before your Games.

"It makes all the difference," you agree warmly, and only somewhat sarcastically. You give yourself another second to take in the space, "I like it."

He can tell that you mean it. "I haven't fully settled in yet."

You shrug, paying him little mind, "There's something about it that just feels like you."

Coriolanus shifts his focus to the ground. You can't possibly mean it in the way that he sees the room, as a reminder that he still doesn't fully fit into who he's become.

"I've been meaning to pick up a few things," he says, "Tomorrow, after my classes, I was thinking about browsing some paintings." Another half truth. He had been meaning to. Mrs. Plinth had instructed him to visit her art dealer whenever he had enough free time to pick out a few pieces to demonstrate his taste. He'd been putting it off as a dismissable task, but it feels like a safe way to give you your first taste of life in the Capitol. "If you'd like to help me pick some out."

You smile, eyebrows pinching together in a way that's just barely noticeable. You're as interested as you are puzzled. "I'd like that." Relaxing enough to let your hand rest between the two of you, you beam, "I don't know if I'd be much help, but I'd like that."

He'd be willing to get anything that caught your eye. Paintings and vases already with such an exclusive art dealer hold more or less the same level of standing, anyway.

Coriolanus moves his hand slowly, careful not to startle you before his fingers can settle against your own. You instinctually turn over your palm, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."

You stare at him with wide, understanding eyes. Sometimes when you look at him, really look at him, Coriolanus is struck with the feeling that you can see right through him. It's an irrational feeling, that every good action and cruel deed is reflected in his eyes. Moments like this make it hard to be near you. They also, however, make the thought of adding distance between the two of you unbearable.

"I have an early class."

You dip your chin forward in an attempt to accept what you're considering a dismissal. "Right, you must be tired." The words sit between you for a long moment.

Your free hand presses into the silk of your still new pajamas. You shift like you're going to stand. His hold on your hand tightens before you can move away. You still.

He's being ridiculous. There's nothing about this situation that warrants his inability to look at you. "Stay here." His thumb runs across your knuckles. "With me."

The words are soft enough to be a request, but there's not enough space between them for questioning. He cautiously lifts his head enough to take in your reaction.

"What?" It's a display of shock more than an actual question. Coriolanus squeezes your hand even tighter. You don't try to get him to let go, but you do shift away just enough to create the reminder of distance. "You know I can't."

His other hand reaches forward, settling against your wrist. "Why not?" He doesn't mean for his voice to come off as raspy, as desperate as it does.

You swallow, attempting to straighten your spine in an attempt to offset the instinctual urge to hide your face. This isn't a topic you're even comfortable implying. "My mother would kill me if she so much as found out that I came up here so late, let alone..." You trail off, head dropping to your lap. "Stayed here."

He envelops your hand between both of his. "She knows we're friendly."

You look up just long enough to imply a pointed not that friendly. "It's--" You blink, eyes darting from to your joint hands and then finally to the ground. "You know it's..."

Coriolanus leans forward. The shift is small, just enough for his knee to brush against yours. "It's what?" He keeps his voice low, a barely there whisper that comes off as so innocent it nearly circles back to anything but.

You glance up, so wide eyed and flighty he's reminded of a rabbit. The level of precaution you're exuding can't just be about your mother's opinions, can it? He studies your expression openly, taking in the set of your eyebrows and the way you steadily press your lips together to avoid speaking without thinking. At least some part of you believes in your mother's concerns.

The realization strike shim so quickly he has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Your bond is so much more than just coming together on a random night where exhaustion's already clouding his focus.

It will happen between the two of you. Eventually. But not yet. You've barely entered the Capitol and every aspect of your life has become vastly different than what you're accustomed to. If he were to attempt to cement any relationship between the two of you like that now, you'd be too overwhelmed or you might think that that's the only reason he brought you here.

He learned early on that it's best to introduce adjustments to you slowly, giving you enough time to hold onto ideas before enacting them. Anything of that nature would work that way too.

"I haven't been able to see much of you." He focuses on your hand, still resting safely between both of his. The words came out too quickly, a flash of some genuine sort of emotion that claw at him on the way out. With you, sometimes a glimpse of feeling works wonders.

Your thumb draws gentle patterns against the side of his hand. "You're busy." He relaxes his hand, turning over his palm. You place his hand on your knee, fingers tracing the natural creases etched into his skin. "You're important."

The way that last word comes out makes an uncertain warmth crawl up his neck. "I--I've wanted to see you more." Another thing he means so much it turns his stomach to admit it.

Your nail drags down a line that cuts across the length of his hand. "Me too."

He bends his fingers slowly, moving in until he's trapped your pointer finger against his palm. "Then stay." You twist your finger enough to express some lighthearted irritation, but not enough to count as a real attempt at escaping. "If your mother says anything, I'll explain it to her." You glare at him without any true aggression. "She likes me, doesn't she?"

Coriolanus already knows the answer. She credits your survival to him. You had mentioned that in a letter once, telling him that she insisted you pass along her gratitude after discovering that the two of you had started to correspond regularly.

He also saw the way she reacted to realizing that she had made it to the Capitol. Your mother's family had once been part of the wealthier side of 12. You're part of a recently fallen line of mine owners, a fact that your mother has only pretended to let go of. He saw a hunger behind her eyes that reminded him of a warped version of his own.

Coriolanus gave her back the pride the war had stolen from her family name tenfold. He owes her this much.

"She'd trade me for you in a heartbeat." He hears the grin in your voice more than he sees it. Your family means the world to you, which means he's subjected himself to seeking your mother's validation and winning over your two younger sisters.

It's not the way he'd choose to spend his limited free time, especially with you standing right there, but he's endured worse for less of a pay off. "Then she'd be a fool."

You fight to hold his gaze. "I doubt that."

Your eyes are pools of honest, unfiltered affection. The care that you're watching him with makes it hard to swallow. The instinct to press, to dig and claw and tear anything that could be hiding an ulterior motive into shreds makes it hard to take a full breath. You've always worn your heart on your sleeve. You're not a flighty songbird that uses its charm to distract its prey from its fang-like talons.

"Stay." Again. So breathless he almost doesn't recognize the word as his own.

The deliberation is transparent behind your eyes. You're considering it, but you're still not convinced. The hesitation stings in a way he doesn't understand. "I don't want to give her a reason to not like you."

So softly spoken he's shocked by the way the words manage to feel like a nail being hammered into his chest.

"She's let you stay with other people before." The response is too sharp, too sudden. He should refocus and think through what he's about to say. Coriolanus knows that it's easier to get you to agree to something through the use of honey sweetened words and displays of patience. "You wrote about him."

The confusion that briefly etches its way into your expression threatens to quell the uncomfortable swell of jealousy tightening his chest. "Warren?" The name makes tints the air between you with something acidic. "That was--different."

Your explanation adds an edge to the pressure in his chest. "Why?"

"We weren't--" You cut yourself off, the instinct to placate him and your desire to not start a conversation you can't finish battling each other oddly. "We were never alone." You squeeze his hand as best as you can. "He's a family friend and I only stayed over when my mom had to work late and I was too young to be alone for so long, so I haven't stayed over in years. And--and he shared a room with three of his siblings and his parents checked on us constantly."

He frowns, unconvinced. The lack of approval has you clinging to him, adjusting your hold on his hand as you gently trail your knuckles against the inside of his wrist. "I do miss you." You stare at your hands. "I know it's weird because we're--y'know--closer than before, but I-I do miss you."

The expanding wave of tension in his chest begins to deflate. You're good at that, at redirecting and soothing without even realizing it. A talent that had contributed to his original desire to loathe you. "I understand that." He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "Things aren't going to get less busy. That's why I want to use all the time we have."

You nod slowly, a hint of understanding making its appearance in the set of your brow. "I know."

"What you wrote," he begins, too aware of how much he means the question that follows, "Did you mean it."

"Of course I did." Not an ounce of hesitation, of uncertainty.

He turns your hand over before shifting his fingers up the inside of your wrist. "You wrote about wanting to see me."

"I did..." The pad of his thumb gently makes its way up your forearm. Your even breathing falters. "I do."

Coriolanus lets himself look up just enough to take in your expression. "Then stay." He swallows, too aware of the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Please."

You glance up at him through your lashes. There's a softness there that jabs at him. "Okay."

He lifts the back of your hand, carefully brushing his lips against your skin. "You mentioned wanting to see a library."

You wrote about it once. A brief mention in one of your letters of the small room in your school's office that served as a sort of communal study space with a few books stacked on a small shelf. Your longing had been clear.

Nodding curiously, you agree, "Yeah?"

"I could leave for my classes a little earlier tomorrow, you could come with me." The proposal comes out slowly, his own suggestion taking him by surprise. "My driver could bring you back, that'll give you time to meet the tutor that's being sent over for your sisters, and then when I get back we'll look at the paintings."

You immediately grin, "Really?"

He finds himself smiling back, pulling your arm closer. "Whatever you want."

You beam. "I'd really like that."

"Good," he affirms with a nod of his head that's a touch too forward. He regrets it almost immediately. "If you like it, I might be able to get your own tutor to meet you at a library."

Part of the still uncertain victor program relies on setting up the victor and their family with a new life. Education plays a role in that. Placing any one of you in an actual Capitol run institution is far out of the question. For everyone's sake. Even if the thought of sharing a classroom with someone from 12 didn't horrify the Capitol parents, you and your siblings wouldn't be able to just jump in. It's not that he views you as unintelligent, but District 12's education system isn't exactly on par with the Capitol's.

"That sounds nice," you sit up a little straighter, excited by the prospect, "A part of me kind of misses school."

Another aspect of your personality that he had learned about after your Games. You like school for the sake of it. "I'll check on the arrangements tomorrow."

He clears his throat before you can do more than just nod, "It's getting late."

Coriolanus carefully sets your hand down on the comforter. You awkwardly shift, now more aware of what you agreed to than ever. "Right," you push yourself to stand, "You need your sleep."

He pulls back his sheets before you can think about it even further. You crawl into the provided space without looking at anything in particular. He's quick to join you beneath the safety of plush bedding before leaning over and turning off the bedside lamp.

Darkness floods the space. There's something about the absence of light that makes things feel heavier. The potential intimacy of the situation sneaks up on him with no warning.

This isn't a loss of control. It can't be. It was his idea, he had pushed and convinced you to stay here. He's aware of everything that's led up to this moment, but that's not enough to stop him from wondering if this is something than he should have known better than to embrace. He had accepted the familiar, fickle knotting of his stomach once before.

Steady warmth presses itself against his arm. He blinks, head turning a second too quickly. Your hand has found his. Coriolanus relaxes, allowing himself to fully relax against his pillow. You pick up on his shift, reflecting it by laying down as well.

For someone that had been so hesitant, you seem to know what to do better than he does. You pull his arm towards you, gently trailing your fingers against the exposed skin. Heat crawls up his neck.

"Goodnight," you mumble, voice already drowsy.

Coriolanus lets out a long breath. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his lips before settling back into the position the two of you were in before. "Goodnight."

#the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x reader

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c0smoshit · 9 months

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Hello fellow Cloud Strife freak 🫡

(Yes it’s the same star_sworn from ao3 lol)

If you’re feeling in the mood for it in your last week before school, I was hoping to request a nsfw fem reader/Cloud fic where he is possessive/jealous, and he spanks reader: a LOT. Both before sex (with extensive foreplay, lots of dirty talk, maybe oral for him?) and during sex. Just spanking with hands please, and not super hard spanks either, I'm very vanilla lol. It's not about hurting her, it's more a possessive thing for Cloud (and an ass thing lol!). But reader is SUPER into it. I'm not looking for any hardcore dom/sub or anything, just stuff a committed couple would do (some soft dom vibes, like in Mind Cloud/ed).

Maybe it’s the first time he does it and they both realize how much they both like it, or maybe they’ve come home from a party where the guys were checking out his girl and he is feeling possessive/frustrated. I leave it to you if you want to take this request!

I look forward to the filth. Let's give this ass man something to do with his hands… 😉

Also best of luck with school starting!!

I LOVE THIS omg

Thanks for this delicious request love 😻♡♡

Jealousy ミ★

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud Strife/fem!reader

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ smut!, p in v, spanking, few hints of dacryphilia, bjs, sexy hour Cloud ;), not proofread!

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ I'm baack! I hope u guys missed me hehe

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 2.321

He was closer to you this night, walking right beside you as he guided you to your appartment, his hand brushing over yours as the dark path consumed your vision.

He was quiet too, way more than usual. His eyes didn't seem as if they were trying to search your own ones like they would always do.

Maybe he was stressed out?

This week has been a long one and you could see it on his eyes, he was tired. As time grew older, you had managed to read his enigmatic emotions quite well, so you thought that maybe he just needed to rest for tonight.

But your theory was quickly proven wrong as you entered your home, ready to wave him goodbye for the night.

. . .

Before you could even turn around, his chest had enveloped your back, pushing you further into your appartment until your hands met the wall.

His husky breathing hit your ear, a shockwave of goosebumps trickled your skin.

Why was he that needy all of the sudden??

Your mind circled around lots of different questions but the harsh sound of the door closing made you jump.

You didn't dare to open your mouth, not yet. You could feel his hands on your waist, but they didn't caress you like he always would, like when he touched you for the first time.

You internally cracked a small smile at the memory, he was just as nervous and fidgety as you were.

The moonlight encased both of your bodies as he took off your clothes for the first time, making an absolute mess of himself when he finally got to the act.

But those gentle and somewhat shy touches were far lost inside his guts somewhere, instead, they were replaced with fierce and strong movements.

You turned around slowly, you could feel yourself getting aroused by this sudden role he was playing. And when you stared at those almost hollow eyes, you saw passion, lust and hunger all mixed up together in a ballad of desesperation.

His lips devoured yours not even a second after.

Your eyes were tight shut, savouring the sweet moment he was offering you. Your lips tried to move slowly, trying to enjoy this new facade, but he wouldn't let you.

His tongue was already inside your mouth when you felt his fingertips lower themselves down your body.

You knew he was an ass guy, it was absolutely cristal clear.

He would always grab your ass, brushing it off saying that it was an "accident". Pushing his hips into yours from behind whenever you couldn't reach for something, always walking right behind you whenever you two where with the group.

However, you didn't expect he liked... spanking.

It started off slow, giving you little taps as he grabbed and squeezed your butt. He pushed further into you, almost as if he wanted to break the wall behind you.

The kisses soon turned sloppy, soaking up both of your lips before he trailed them further down, and you had to bite your lip in order to not let any sounds yet.

His hair trickled your flushed cheek, hands quickly grabbing it as his kisses turned into bites, sucking your soft skin.

The crown of your hair hit the cold wall behind you, mouth agape as you let him sneak a hand behind your back, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest as the other one caressed your hip.

Ready to finally use your voice tonight, you eventually opted not to. He had just became so... primal for you, you didn't dare to even make a question.

However, you wished this blissful moment lasted longer.

"Oop!"

A cut out yelp emerged from your mouth as his hands took ahold of your legs, lifting you up easily into the air.

He wrapped your legs around his hips, your crotch resting just above his belly button and, simultaneously, your arms embraced his neck for support.

You moved up and down thanks to his heavy steps and, trying to get payback from earlier, you started pecking his neck. Starting off gently, kissing and giving butterfly kisses into his jugular.

You noticed he became clumsier, almost tripping over as you sucked a hickie. Your kisses got wetter, hotter and your hand started to caress the back of his hair.

You giggled at his clumsy steps but as soon as you were placed on top of your chilly kitchen counter and saw his serious face once again, you quieted down.

His hands gripped your thighs as if they were his sword, his head coming down to rest on your neck once again to give you little pecks, weirdly more tenderly than the ones he had given you before.

But you pulled his mouth off you briefly.

"What's up with yo-"

"Who was he"

His eyes were finally looking at yours after a long while.

"What? What are you talki-"

"Who was that guy"

Your hands now rested on his shoulder blades, feeling the hard touch of metal bellow your right hand.

Frowning your brows, you tried to think about what guy was he talking about.

. . .

You smelled the aura and it smelt musky.

The first scent you picked out first was a strong breeze of sudden whisky, the wet and fermented barley filling up your nose.

Then you smelt a recognizable, stronge cologne floating around your head now. And when you lifted up your head, you saw him.

A mature, bearded man.

He was wearing a long black coat, some glasses keeping your curious eyes from staring at his own ones. You stayed there for a second, he looked oddly familar.

But before you could figure out who was that man, you came back to Earth, remembering that you were winding down after a long day in Seventh Heaven.

You grabbed your drink, resting for a while on your seat until your drink was halfway done.

But before you could walk away from that husky cloud, a large hand grabbed your shoulder, making you face the misterious man.

Your eyes lingered first on his fierce brown eyes, looking at his mature skin, you saw a scar on his left cheek that time had tried to heal, trying to match his skin colour.

You saw his lips move, but you had to re-think your answer before opening your own mouth.

"I saw you back there"

Okay.

You hadn't expected that phrase.

Where could he had seen you anyway? Was he following you?

"I like what you guys are doing for the Planet"

What?

You knew what you were doing was benefitial for the Planet, but Shinra worked so hard into putting your group as a terrorist one and actually killing way more people from the explosions than expected.

But why did he knew?

"Those Shinra guys deserve worse"

It came out as a mumble and you couldn't help but look at him with a puzzled expresion, accepting the friendly pats he gave on your shoulder, thanking you.

That was sweet. . .?

. . .

"Ohh, that man back there?"

He stopped his movements, almost as if letting you know that you were right.

"I saw him to-"

Now you were the one that cut him off, not boring to hide the sly smirk on your face.

"Wait, are you jealous?"

Suddenly his cheeks reddened, but before he could see your grin he lowered his head down into your neck once again.

Ready to make another snicker, you were interruped by his palm now resting on your panties, making you gasp.

His index finger moved up and down and you took matter into your own hands too, quite literally.

He hissed as your bold hand groped him too, trying to lure him into letting you give him some pleasure too.

"Let me make you feel good"

Your heated breathing sent cold shivers down his spine and, as your teeth lightly bit his ear, he lost it.

"So pretty"

You would always praise him, and it would always make him feel sort of bad, he would keep his own thoughts about how gorgerous you were to himself.

But he meant all of them.

His shirt and SOLDIER armour was now discared on the cold floor, your icy hands caressing his abs before finally getting down on your knees.

His absolutely favourite view in the whole Planet.

He helped you take off his belt, letting your overly-excited fingers do the rest of the work. And when you finally got face to face with him, he placed a reassuring hand on your head.

You started off with slow strokes, kitten-kissing his angry red tip. Sensually trailling lower and lower on his shaft just to tease him and rake higher and higher again.

Until he finally had enough, gripping quite hardly your hair.

"Get on with it"

He actually scared himself off at first with his demanding tone, his desesperation seemingly clear on his blushed cheeks as he stared down at you. And you complied, enjoying the choked out gasp you managed to pull out of his throat when you suddenly introduced him halfway into your wet cavern.

Lust filled eyes staring down at the mess you were making on his cock, gripping hardly the counter behind him as he tried not to buck his hips into your mouth.

Not only your sweet face was all in display for him to see, but your sweet, sweet ass was there too.

As dirty as it sounded inside his head

Your hands held his thighs hardly too, enjoying every sound you were being able to pull from him as you took him deeper and deeper. He was big, and it was almost funny how he didn't actually believe you could struggle to take him at first.

But it sure ignited something inside him

He throbbed when he saw you gag on him, help him reach his end with the help of your hand, your glossy eyes staring up at him.

He needed to feel you.

But not like this

So he took your face off him, smashing desesperately his lips against yours once again, feeling a fuzzy tingle inside him as he heavily rested on your lower stomach now.

His hands held your face ridiculously gently compared from how he had gripped your hair just a few seconds ago, walking you backwards until you met the counter once again.

"turn around"

His voice was deeper now, staring daggers into your eyes as he waited for you to obediently follow his lead. And you did.

You bent yourself down, ready to whatever he was going to give you this night right there and then.

And when you felt him pull your skirt up, you pushed your hips back into his hands, making him pull down your panties even slower than he intended to. Almost as if he was getting payback from before.

When they pooled through your ankles, his hand softly massaged your right cheek, feeding off your whines.

"Please"

However, he kept going.

No matter how hard he was, how hardly he wanted to fill you up, to feel you entirely around him once again. He wanted to show you how you were his, how he loved and desired you.

So, without thinking, the harsh sound of a "slap!" filled your ears and ceirtantly, your butt.

You couldn't help yourself but let out a pathetic moan, his hand now rubbing the red spot he had left. He had heard you, and it was the same sound you would let out whenever he was fingering you.

Did you actually like it?

So once he had tested the waters, he set his sights on slipping the nastiest mewls from your mouth tonight.

"Mmph- Cloud"

There it was, his name filling his ears the best way it could've had. So he started teasing your slit with his shaft, more slapping sounds filling up the small appartment as you almost rested your whole chest on the counter now.

You picked out the sound of plastic, something opening up. Which you later would guess was a condom.

But before you could make contact with the cold tile, his left arm surrounded your stomach, pulling you up into him, lips mere centimeters away from your ear.

"I'm going inside now, is that okay?"

How sweet

But sweet wasn't an adjective that matched his dirty and husky tone. His hand was now toying with your front, exposing you to the darkness as he squeezed your breasts now.

So you nodded, feeling suddenly too shy to speak to him.

"Too embarrassed to use your voice now huh?"

And you opened it, but it was useless to his tip now proding your entrance, slowly taking him further and further. Holding the arm that was embracing you, you rolled your head into his shoulder, silently whimpering at the warm feeling.

"Got you, almost there"

His reassuring tone he used with no one really never failed to make your knees feel like jelly.

But his adorable act lasted as quick as you managed to cum with his skilled fingers.

He started to move, and he was clearly desesperate. Setting off a crude, fast pace as you were now fully bent over, his hands gripping your hips. His middle finger was now circling quickly your clit, pulling off the nastiest moans he had wished for.

You imagined his glistening, lean form behind you, making you take all of him, using your tight walls in search for his climax. His hair all ruffled up, a bead of sweat trailing down into his v-line, and the sudden spanks your ass would recieve.

That was your last straw, mewling out his name as you soaked his cock.

And by the way you gripped him even harder, which he thought was impossible now, spasming around him violently.

He was done.

So he followed close behind, painting the plastic walls white, imagining it was you who was taking his load instead.

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germiyahu · 1 month

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Like can we think about the journey this website has taken? From mocking people who claim not to be bigoted and smugly patting them on the head and explaining that they are bigots but just don't realize it... to becoming those bigots?

This website used to laugh at people who said "I'm not a homophobe! I'm not afraid of things that are the same lel!" Now it says "We're not antisemites... we have nothing against Semites only genocidal Zionazis and their colonizer supporters 😂"

This website used to see red when people said "I'm not a transphobe, I just have concerns about the unregulated influence this MOVEMENT OF GENDER IDEOLOGUES is having on innocent children!" Now it says "We're not antisemites, we're just curious who is funding all this pro-Zionist legislation and initiatives and campus organizations! Aren't you worried that Zionists have an undue influence in our government and culture?"

This website used to sneer at people who said "I'm not a racist! It's a fact that black people [misquoted and misinterpreted statistic]! My God you people are against the truth!" Now it says "We're not antisemites when Zionists have proven that their bloodthirsty fascistic goals are widely supported by Jewish institutions in America, who aren't even true Jews by the way! Zionism =/= Judaism real Jews support Palestine ✊"

This website used to roll its eyes at people who said "I'm not a misogynist! Women have their equal rights under the law, and if you research it they actually have it better off than men in several areas, they're always whining about nothing!" Now it says "We're not antisemites, Jews are a protected class, more than you can say for most actual minorities, they control succeed in finance, entertainment, politics, in what ways are they oppressed? Where are these streets that Jews don't feel safe on lol? Why do they always cry antisemitism when there's a genocide going on? They actually collaborate with the police state btw 🤓"

And there are so many more examples and parallels and my posts are always too long. Antisemitism is the rug being pulled out from under Leftists to reveal that they've been right wing bigots this whole time. Antisemitism is a tool that Leftists use to radicalize themselves into abandoning their own principles, because it's just too enticing not to use it.

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism

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drewharrisonwriter · 10 months

Text

Donor Part 2

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

A/N, Warnings: 18+, follow up to Donor. English is not my first language. There's drinking, breakups, failed IUIs and more. Just an overall adult-themed content. But no smut...YET! (BWAHAHA) As usual, not beta'ed, and plot points are perhaps shaky and a bit far from reality, but hey! It's called fiction for a reason. LOL Excuse my deluluness, you're welcome to join.

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You said, a tear escaped from the corner of your eye, slipping down your cheeks which you immediately wiped with the back of your hand.

Henry pulled you in on a side hug, letting out a slow sigh, closing his eyes as he planted a kiss on your temple.

Five negative pregnancy tests sit on your bathroom counter.

Five more to add to the stash of tests that you somehow decided you wanted to keep in a box under the counter. Just in case…of what? You're not even sure yourself.

This was your third try over the past year. Three rounds of IUI and a box full to the brim of negative pregnancy tests lay heavy on your heart and mind.

For all the things you've accomplished all your life, this is becoming the most challenging. You already feel like a failure.

"There's always a next time, darling." Henry comforted you, gently rubbing the small of your back. You just sobbed, soaking his shirt with your tears.

"I don't know. I'm so sorry for dragging you into this, Hank." He hushed you gently and led you out to your living room.

You both settled on the couch, where you snuggled to Henry, feet tucked under you, as you continued to sob and he just held you against his broad chest.

"I just don't get it, why is it so hard? I'm literally biologically made for this."

"Well, just because it didn't happen now doesn't mean it won't. It's only been three tries." He cooed.

"Three tries over the span of 8 months, Hank. I took a really long break, I gave up touring for this. You…took time for this, too."

“You do realize that you can’t go on tour when you’re pregnant, right?” He replied and you just let out a loud sigh.

“But I’m not. I could be touring instead, you could be out on a date with someone you like.” He snorted.

“Well, first of all. I love you, you know that. And darling, you can’t be in two places at once. These things take time. Why so hard on yourself?”

You honestly feel like your brain is so fried and your body so tired, and bloated.

You feel like shit.

The tests may tell you there’s no baby in there, but boy do you look pregnant from the bloatedness, thanks to the fertility medications that have proven themselves useless so far and it’s becoming a tabloid talk recently.

You can’t read another pregnancy speculation about yourself.

Not when you know it’s not happening at all. Plus, there’s a huge chance of dragging Henry’s name into it, which you’re doing your best to prevent from happening. Not going out in public with him where you know you could be snapped. You haven’t told anyone about your little secret, not even his family.

“I’m taking a break from this then.” You said softly, after a long pause. Henry looked at you, surprised to hear the words come out of you. He just nodded in response, and pulled you in closer.

—-

Henry pulled up your driveway and turned down the radio, opening the passenger side of the door to let you in. You pulled the door open and got in, giving Henry light air kisses on each cheek.

“Look at you!” You leaned back to take him in, and whistled. He cocked his head in laughter with a hand across his chest, like it was about to burst.

It’s been six months since the last time you saw each other; you stopped trying and went back to touring for a bit, and he went on to start filming a movie and doing press junkets here and there.

It had been a busy couple of months and it made Henry think of the what ifs. Glad that you both don’t have to think of a child in the middle of all the things going on in your lives recently, but sad that you don’t get to hold your dream in your arms.

You both have talked about it, co-parenting. You were surprisingly alright with it, “Better have both parents if you can, right?” You had said, but were clear that you won’t be asking him for anything, still offering to not have him on the birth certificate or forcing a set schedule on him to have the child over, which honestly broke his heart.

You’re always giving him an out, always thinking of him, his career, his family.

He wanted to give the child his last name, he wanted to take care of them on his times off or even bring them to set on his days with them, but he didn’t tell you that. In fact, there are so many things that Henry held back as he didn’t want to take this away from you, he knows how important this is to you.

He’d convinced himself that he’d be content with whatever you give him. He just wants you to have your dream and be happy. He can be happy with that, too.

“So, how’s life on the road?” He asked as you snapped your seatbelt on and he began to drive.

“Good, the usual.” You replied casually. “And how are you, Superman? A little birdie told me you’re seeing someone.” You wiggled your eyebrows playfully at him, and he just side-eyed you with a cocked brow.

“Let me guess, Charlie told you?” He breathed. You shook your head, opening your purse to take out a packet of Reese’s pieces.

“No, your mom, actually.” You replied, shoving marbled chocolates into your mouth. Remembering the phone call you had with Marianne a few weeks ago, and your brain immediately goes into overdrive. Wondering if Henry would still want to donate sperm or if this budding relationship of his had changed his mind. You remember feeling hurt that you won’t be co-parenting with him… But as always, you understood. He has his life, you have yours. He’s already given you so much all those months ago when you tried.

Your brain went into a hundred different scenarios all at once during that phone call, you wondered how you ever got through it.

“Hey!” He exclaimed when he heard you ripping the packet and started chewing. “No eating in the car!”

“Jesus, so strict! It’s just Reese’s pieces, it’s not gonna stink up the damned car. Calm down! Here, have some...” You held your hand out next to his mouth and he reluctantly ate the chocolates.

“Damn, that’s good.” He muttered.

“So, who’s the girl?” You pressed on, still chewing, and he just chuckled, shaking his head.

“No one.” He said, holding his palm out and you poured more Reese’s in them. “It didn’t work out.” He added before shoving the chocolate into his mouth.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You replied dryly.

“Enough about me.” He said, mouth still full with chocolates. “Excited for tonight?”

“Oh absolutely. Haven’t seen you and the gang in a long time.” He chuckled at the way you referred to his brothers and some of your group of friends’ as ‘the gang’.

—

It was Charlie’s birthday and drinks were overflowing, the music was loud, reverberating throughout the exclusive club one of your common friends owns. You were lost on the dance floor, a drink in hand swaying–hoping your legs won’t give out from both exhaustion, fun and alcohol all mixed together like the cocktail in your hand.

Your friend, Emilia, stood on her toes lightly to whisper something in your ear. You could not hear exactly what she was saying, but she was gesturing with her thumb to the guy behind her holding her other hand, with a huge smile plastered on his face. You just nodded and they left.

You saw Charlie and Simon going back to the dancefloor with a bottle of champagne on each hand, showering people with the bubbly treat. You laughed as both men refilled the now empty glass in your hand until it overflowed and your shoes were soaking wet.

Charlie chugged down a bottle and raised it with a loud “Whoo!” when he finished it in one go. You laughed harder and downed your own drink in one go, too. Simon refills it soon as you’re done.

You’re definitely drunk now.

The two men went deeper into the dance floor and shared the bubbly drinks with more of the guests dancing. Left alone now with a half-empty glass, you started or more like swayed your way back to the bar, almost stumbling over a bar stool when you suddenly felt a hand slip on your waist, pulling you up to your seat, you turned halfway to see who it was and surprised to see Henry beaming down on you, hand still splayed across your stomach.

“Enjoying yourself?” He whispered next to your ear, lightly nuzzling his nose at your earlobe. You felt a shiver run down your spine.

He seemed to be drunk, too. You thought. Except he wasn’t; Henry tried his best to stick to just a pint, knowing that he’d have to drive later that night. But there was something about you, about the situation, about the dress you’re wearing that made him a little bolder than usual. He took his hands off you, afraid of ruining the moment.

You smiled and nodded in reply, “Yeah. I’m not drinking anymore. I’m too old for this.” You laughed as he settled in the seat next to you. You flagged the bartender and ordered yourself a bottle of water.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You said after downing half of the bottle. “I’m too old for this.” You repeated.

“Would rather stay home with the kids, honey?” He joked and you laughed.

“Yeah, better call the sitter cause I’m going home now to tuck them in myself.” You joked back with a wide smile as you got off your seat. He threw his head back laughing.

“No, seriously, Hank. I’m going home.” You told him and he nodded.

“Let me take you home.” You shook your head ‘no’.

“It’s fine, Hank. I’m calling an Uber.”

“There are paps outside, I’m driving you myself.” You snickered at his argument.

“What difference would it make? Paps seeing us together would only make it worse.” He knew you were right, but he can’t let you go home alone like this.

But Henry was persistent. He took your hand and led you to a back exit that leads straight to the parking lot, not long after you were seated at the passenger seat of his car as you watched London go by in blur through the window.

“You okay?” He asked, you’ve be been quiet for far too long.

“Mmhmm…”

“What’s going on in there?” He asked, tapping a finger on your temple and you snickered, shaking your head.

“Nothing…I think I’m just tired.” Lie. You wanted to ask him if he’s dating again after the last one Marianne told you about. You wanted to ask him if he’d still want to donate, and co-parent, and draw dreams together in the air like you did a few months ago. But you’ve thought of this over and over the past few weeks, it wouldn’t be right anymore.

You wondered why you never thought of possible scenarios before you even started with your IUI’s.

Henry let out a slow breath, he knew exactly what’s in your head. He knew that you weren’t over the disappointment and the heartbreak from the last time your IUI failed. He knows so well, and this is exactly what he was waiting for, an opportunity to open it up.

“When’s your next time off?” He asked and you looked up at him slightly surprised.

“I have one last string of shows in London next weekend and after that I’m a free man.” You replied. “Why? Do I need to babysit Kal again?” You joked.

He laughed, shaking his head, his curls bouncing on the side of his head. His dimples were so deep and the light that shone through the windshield from the car in front of you casted a beautiful shadow against his sharp features.

Wow, you are definitely drunk.

“What are you looking at?” He asked when he felt your eyes on him; He cocked an eyebrow at your direction, but you only shook your head in response. Willing yourself to stop ogling him.

Nearly 20 years of friendship, you asked yourself, why are you only realizing exactly just how handsome he is?

You always knew he was good looking, great physique, killer smile, incredible sense of humor. But you’ve never seen him in this light nor have you ever felt a warmth pooling in your center at the mere sight of him.

What was in the drinks at Charlie’s party?

He looked at you and let out another laugh and muttered, “Jesus.” Your brows are furrowed, lips slightly parted and you look at him not with confusion, no. It’s as if you’re coming to a sudden realization about something, if only he knows what.

He called out your name, looking at you quickly and turning his eyes back on the road, his grip on the wheels tightened a bit. Knuckles almost turning white.

“Hmm?” You sounded like you were being taken out of a daze. He chuckled and shook his head. “You are so drunk, are you?”

“I guess.” You murmured, blinking a few times before looking down at your hands, playing with the hem of your skirt.

“May I ask you something?”

“Go on.”

“Would you…” He started but he paused. “Would you want to try again?”

That startled you. After the last time you tried and failed, and then him dating again, you didn’t think he’d still want to donate. And if you’re being a hundred percent honest with yourself, you wouldn’t want to ask him anymore, not wanting to complicate his future relationships by being tied to you with a child. Despite the fact that you think he’s the perfect donor, in all aspects, including co-parenting.

“I don’t know, Hank. I mean, of course I wanted to try again but…” You swallowed, man, this is hard but it’s for the best, you thought. “But you don’t have to donate anymore.”

Read Part 3

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@jyessaminereads @summersong69 @itsrubberbisquit

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x little!reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x plus size reader #henry cavill x pregnant reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #henry cavill characters

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yandere-daydreams · 10 months

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Feel free to ignore this! I'm just v sleep deprived and having brain rot inspired by some things I saw in ur writing and thought it may be up ur alley. Also this brainrot thingy is mainly aimed at readers who have the ability to get pregnant so if that don't sit right with you feel free to ignore it or change aspects of it!

Hear me out right. A mix of the sex doll au and hybrid au (either fox or husky) for childe. But like in the doll au how he replaces components as a form of trying to live out the dad fantasy? Yeah that but in the hybrid au. Like reader is trying to rehabilitate this poor little baby fox kit/husky puppy that's really sickly and was abandoned. Childe basically looks at the reader playing nurse/mommy for this poor thing almost 24/7 (his attention is being deprived lol) and goes "oh yeah that little one is ours duh". He starts exhibiting protective dad behavior while simultaneously being like "look at how good of a job I can do".

Follow up to that the pup/kit either gets better and can be handed off to another conservationist who has other young hybrids and would do a better job at caring for them in a group environment with other hybrid kiddos so there's less of a risk of em becoming too domesticated. And reader is supper bummed out about it for a while bc all their attention was zoned in on this one really precious little one and now they've moved onto bigger pastures 🥲. Meanwhile childe sees this and is like "oh now I can both console my mate in their grief, I've proven I'm a capable partner, I can totally help them make new little ones!"

Take all of that inspo/brainstorming as u will. Also if you consider people submitting ideas as commissions I apologize for misunderstanding! Did not intend to overstep 🙇‍♀️

tw - implied violence, child neglect/abandonment, and obsessive behavior.

fjdkljdfksdj i think this would probably be more plausible with husky!childe, but something about this scenario with fox!childe is just,,,

it'd just be so sweet to watch him dote over the tiny, terrified kit one of your friends found shivering in a snowbank. you really aren't qualified to take care of such a young hybrid, but while you scramble to get a hold of a more experienced volunteer, childe picks up the slack. despite being old enough to walk, the poor thing barely leaves his arms. he handles their near-hourly feedings, modifies the ill-fitting clothes you pull out of storage to accommodate their tail and hind legs, even lets them crawl between you and him at night and violate his cardinal rule (no one else gets to so much as touch your bed except for him - an unspoken law that's resulted in more than a few bitten hands and bleeding guests). he does his best to put a dent in their never-ending energy, and when it's time for you to take over, he's never more than a few feet away, wagging his tail as you take the kit's temperature and try to convince them to swallow a few drops of medicine. and, when you finally contact a volunteer with a small shelter and a pack of orphaned kits, childe seems as happy as you are, rubbing his cheek against theirs as he tells them that they'll be home soon enough. it's sweet, even if fox-hybrid dynamics are, admittedly, a little lost on you. honestly, you're just relieved you'll be able to sleep through the night again.

at least, you're relieved until you get back from work the next day, until you find your door unlocked and your apartment wrecked, furniture overturned and rust-colored stains soaked into your carpeting. you find childe on the foot of your bed, bouncing a crying kit in his lap and gushing them quietly, but he doesn't look concerned. if anything, his posture is slack, the smile written across his face nothing short of ecstatic. he looks calm. he looks happy.

he looks like someone who only just found his way home.

#hybrid au #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere childe #childe x reader #yandere ajax #yandere tartaglia

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chronicbeans · 4 months

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Romantic Husk x Maladaptive Daydreamer Reader

Brought to you by: I feel like you two would get along. Also I feel like I made the Reader much more depressed in this one so heads up lol.

TW: Maladaptive Daydreaming, Alcohol/Alcoholism, Mentions of Drugs, Depression, Derealization/Dissociation

• When you first stepped into the Hazbin Hotel, being dragged around by an excited Charlie and smiling Vaggie, he thought you'd be like all the rest. A bit more on the bold side, being able to make snarky comments, violent... Just, overall, like most other sinners he's seen. He was quickly proven wrong, however. You look over to him as you're dragged by the bar, but you don't look like you process him. He simply assumed you didn't get the time to process him, but once Charlie loops around back to him in order to introduce you two, you have that same look to you.

• "Hello... um, I'm (Y/N)." You wave a little to him as you speak, looking a bit awkward. Possibly from Charlie dragging you around from excitement, and making you meet everyone. He waves to you, nodding. He doesn't look very enthusiastic, or sound it, as he introduced himself. "The name's Husk. Now, are you going to get a drink while you're here? Otherwise, that's all you'll need to know, for now."

• Alright... so, first impressions were definitely something. They aren't his forte, at least. However, you succeeded in surprising him a little. Not with your words or gestures, but just by how you didn't seem to be paying full attention. He's great at reading people, as a gambler, and it's bled into his day to day life. He could easily tell. Now, could he tell why? No. His first thought is drugs, since Angel has a drug problem and so do a lot of people in Hell, but you didn't show any visible signs of being on something. So, he isn't going to assume anything. Perhaps you were just having a bad day, or were overwhelmed...

• The next time he sees you, though, is when you are having a group exercise with the rest of the hotel residents. Plus a few staff members, since there's not a lot of people here, yet. Lucky for him, he was chosen to join in. After all, who's going to be going to the bar when everyone is doing an activity? Once again, everybody is introducing themselves since there's a new person. That person being you.

• You sit there, clearly spaced out, as Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, and Niffty all do their little greeting... thing... that Charlie is making everyone do. Then, once it's your turn, you take a moment. Actually, you didn't notice it was your turn, until Husk gently elbows you, wanting to get it over with. You flinch, before giving a halfhearted greeting, embarrassed. You say your name, with your favorite thing being "being creative", and your last thing being that you don't like sharing it. It was odd to listen to, compared to everyone else's introductions. He just gave his, not thinking about it... much.

• Okay... maybe "not thinking about it much" isn't the right wording. He's thinking about it a lot. Mainly because he's worried about whatever the hell "being creative" means. In Hell, it could mean violence, drugs, and a lot of other horrific things alongside art, music, and writing. He wants to make sure Angel Dust is safe, too, if it is something involving drugs. He doesn't want him to get hooked on something new. So, he's going to keep a close watch whenever you two are together.

• You don't visit the bar often. Though, when you do, you usually have a few drinks and don't talk much. You kind of just stare at the table, the bottles on the wall behind him, or just into space while making different expressions. A lot of the time you kind of look empty, though. Husk sometimes crosses his arms and asks what you're thinking about, only for you to look up to him and shrug. "Hard to explain... Just a story I heard."

• You're clearly hiding something and he doesn't like that. He's not going to pry, though. While it could be something bad, it could also just be some personal stuff. Maybe you're just depressed or something...? Doesn't explain the odd expressions... maybe you're just hallucinating? Yeah. He'll just guess it's a mental health thing. Which, well, he's on the right track. Just the wrong answer to what is causing the specifics of what he's trying to figure out.

• Sometimes you talk about your stories when you get drunk, which isn't as often as a few other people in the Hazbin Hotel, but is usually a treat. He assumes these are those "stories you heard one", but he can already smell something fishy. You explain them in far too much detail than someone normally would. You can even explain miniscule things, like the psychology of certain characters, the way the world building works to the smallest ant's role, to even the biology of certain creatures. Nobody who simply "heard a story" would know this much. These are things the writer would know.

• "You made these, didn't you?" You immediately tense up at that, but slowly nod. Now, he's even more confused. Why would anybody lie about it? These stories are interesting. They actually kind of distract him from his problems, that's how much they hook others! Before he can ask, though, you shrug. "I kind of... don't like how attached I am to them. They're why I'm spaced out. I also don't want others to know about it. Don't tell anyone."

• Husk doesn't tell anyone. However, he kind of thinks you're overreacting when you talk about how much you daydream and how it's a problem. It's nothing against you. He doesn't think you're a lier, now. He's pretty sure you're being truthful, with just a little bit of exaggerating. See, he's from the 1970s, and whatever you're going through wasn't discovered until the 2000s. He just can't imagine how daydreaming could become a problem. Everybody daydreams. However, just in case it actually is a big issue, he won't voice it. The most he'll say is just that he hasn't heard of anything like what you are describing.

• He likes you. Now that you're being more open, he has genuinely started to enjoy your company. Your stories are nice to listen to, your expressions fun to watch, and even if you are having problems listening to him talk, he can at least understand why and not hold it against you. You're entertaining. He'll ask questions about your characters, and actually engage in your storytelling when you ask.

• However, it all changes once Charlie comes up to him one evening. She looks a bit worried as she asks Husk for help. "See... They've been in their room all day, and when I knocked and asked if they needed anything, they asked to get you." Get him? Well, alright.

• Once he gets to your room, he begins to realize just how bad of a problem it can get. You seem to have broken down into tears over something, and when he asks what, you just let out your every frustration. You've forgotten to eat today, you can't focus on anything due to daydreaming taking over, you feel a bit disconnected from reality... while before, you seemed to be able to talk about these things so easily, now that you're breaking down over it? It really puts it into perspective. Especially when you mention feeling disconnected from reality... He somehow never thought of that being an issue, but it makes sense to him. How could you feel connected to reality, when your mind is never focused on it?

• As much as he tries to understand what is going on inside your head, he knows he'll never understand it entirely. So, he tries to understand it in a way through his own experiences. With how much this unstoppable habit has been causing you distress, the closest thing he can compare is to is his alcoholism. He feels like he can't stop drinking, even if he knows it's bad for him... Husk is very much aware that it's not exactly the same, but he feels it's the closest he'll get to understanding your experiences.

• He keeps his promise of not saying a word about it to anyone. If somebody ever asks about what is going on with you, he'll pull what he calls "a Niffty", saying "You don't even want to know what's going on with them." He also becomes a bit more protective over you. He's seen Alastor staring at you, and he recognizes the look in his eyes. Alastor wants to try to manipulate you, like he does everyone else. Husk plans to prevent that as best he can, despite Alastor owning his soul.

• Husk might try to find ways to ground you. He would normally recommend going to a therapist, psychiatrist, or to get some medications for your mental health... but considering that you're both in Hell, the place filled with the worst people, that might actually be the most dangerous thing you could do. If you were on earth, sure, since those people can be trusted more often than not. Hell's mental health professionals are untrustworthy, though. So, he's going to try finding a grounding technique that works for you. Be it holding some ice cubes in your hand, taking deep breaths, or some random thing Charlie brings up one day he thinks will help.

• Now that he's dedicated to protecting you from Alastor, he might be a bit more open about how awful that deer demon can be. Well, as open as Alastor's leash allows him to be. It's his way of subtly warning you not to trust that smiling monster. Husk's gotten too attached to let not warn you of him.

• As you both spend more time around each other, he begins noticing that he's grown to love you as more than a friend. The little things you do cause him to blush, as much as he hates it. It's only when Angel Dust teases him about having a crush on you that he actually realizes that he's in love, though, and Husk immediately shuts him up. He's genuinely growing frightened that Alastor might hear it, and begin using you against him. That man has taken his soul, his power as an overlord, his freedom, and he knows that he'd be willing to take you away, too.

• Despite that fear, Husk is rather quick to tell you how he feels. He knows he'll have to tell you at some point, so he might as well get it over with. He also doesn't really expect you to like him back, in large part due to his attitude and the cat-like form he's taken in Hell. He doesn't like it, himself, so why wouldn't you see it as off-putting? However, he doesn't argue when you tell him you love him back. He is just a bit shocked, in a good way.

• Now that you're both together, your actual relationship doesn't change much from when you were just friends. The only real difference is the occasional kiss or snuggle sensation. You're actually a bit shocked by how much he likes to cuddle, even if he only wants to in private. He isn't really the type of guy that likes public displays of affection.

• All in all, life's pretty good with your protective boyfriend. He may not entirely understand what is going on in your head, but he's one of the most patient people at the hotel when it comes to hearing people out on their problems. He's probably one of the best if you're looking for a partner who'd rather give you grounding skills, rather than going along with your daydreams and using outlets like art and writing to cope.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #husk hazbin hotel #husk x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #maladaptive daydreaming

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yuwuta · 27 days

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hi! this might be a bit of a vague ask, but how do you think yuuta is as a partner? like how does he treat his partner, his love language, giving & receiving affection, how a relationship with him would develop, etc. what are his guilty pleasures in a relationship? what are his favourite things to do with a partner? that kind of thing lol. i'm just in love with your yuuta so i was very curious! sorry!

hmm ok well there are basically 3 or 4 yuutas/yuuta aus that live in my head, and then like… some…. ground state version of him that is applicable to most boyfriend aus if that makes any sense 😭 idk how to explain this... but he’s got isomers that all can exist to me and then one normal version that’s just like… the core of who he is. i’m gonna stop talking about that now, but that’s all to say that the specifics of his guilty pleasures and favorite things to with his partner would depend on the au? but generally, he’s a very loyal and intimate person, so that carries through in all his thoughts and actions no matter which au it is

the love language his gives his acts of service. you want something, yuuta will get it for you or do it for you or figure out how to make it for you. he’s a yes man in the sense that he does not know how to say no to you. he’ll say yes before you can even finish detailing what it is you’re asking of him, and it stems from a few reasons.

firstly, yuuta is loyal, almost to a fault, so it doesn’t really matter what he does or who he hurts or undermines if he believes his words/actions are going to keep you safe or please you. his moral compass is skewed in the sense that he goes wherever you go, and it is about the final destination for him and not the journey; he wants to meet you where you are, and he won’t let things get in his way of getting to you.

secondly, while yuuta is very jealous, possessive, and protective where it concerns you, he also has a deep desire for you to feel the same way about him, no matter how extreme or mundane that is. he wants to be the person you ask to do favors for you, he wants you to show him that you know that he’s yours to ask, to take advantage of, to, quite literally, make all your requests come true. also he pouts if you ask someone else, and considers murder if somebody else volunteers in his place.

thirdly, there’s a bit of insecurity at play, too; yuuta puts you on a pedestal, and as such, he concretely believes that he isn’t truly worthy of you. you’re otherworldly to him, and he is just someone lucky enough to get to worship you in such proximity; so, he knows that, given the chance, anybody else would want to do the same thing, and he’ll be damned if he lets somebody else get the chance to take care of you. he knows somebody else could, so he doesn’t ever want to take the chance to let them.

this last reason kind of ties in to all the previous ones, but he also gets off on pleasing you. in the literal, sexual sense, he could cum in his pants just from fingering you or eating you out, or honestly just kissing on the right day. but also, there’s a profound sense of pride and happiness in his chest whenever he does something for you. he’s happy to have made you happy or to have lifted a little burden for you, and he’s proud of himself because he’s proven to himself once again that while he might not be the greatest or strongest or smartest person, he’s more than capable of taking care of the person he loves, and that’s more than enough for him :(( also the words “thank you” coming from you is dirty talk to him he doesn’t even know it but his praise kink goes crazy

in terms of receiving affection, maybe quality time? yuuta could force his own proximity to you if he wanted to (and sometimes, he does), but there’s a certain… joy? relief? reassurance? when you choose to spend time with him or be close to him. it’s a reminder that you want to be with him even half as much as he wants to be with you. he also strikes me as the kind of person to have a bunch of little hobbies and/or to always have some kind of errand to run, so you choosing to tag along with him, or just sit in his room with him while he studies or reads or paints or whatever makes him very happy

#anonymous #oh yuuta.... my baby my baby my baby my baby #think also gifts for his receiving love language? he doesn't get very many so he's grateful for the ones he does #especially from his loved ones and especially from you #bc it says you thought about him and you hear him when he talks about what he likes and thats just so :(( to him.#yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #yuuta.ask

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kalims · 6 months

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Oh my goddess, orders are open! Ahem, ANYWAYS— I wonder if I could have an Idia with a fem or gn s/o who is introverted and generally closed-faced, being a sweetheart and even shy with him, pretty please?

• Remember to drink water and take care of yourself correctly, kisses <3

– Mel 🌙🩵✨

dress,

premise.

idia forever thought his cause of death would be the permanent termination of his end game account—which in theory, is now proven wrong at the existence of a brand new thing that just might obliterate his heart.

note. thank you mel <3 you too. i, for one will gladly accept kisses from u and idia (he's downbad here LOL)

idia is having a strangely, familiar sensation.

for example—the fact that his heart is palpitating so fast is making him afraid that he'll get the same sense of doom he frequently gets whenever this happens. like when he's the one that the professor chooses to answer a question up front. just his luck cause it absolutely sucks in real life just as much as his chances of winning that rare character.

but no, there isn't an impending sense of doom that sends him to the edge. no cold sweat forming on the skin of his neck, nor does it protrude from his clammy hands. it's weird, he feels warm rather than the cold it usually accompanies.

he needs to visit a doctor.

he gulps thickly. sending a lightning fast glance at your direction then averting it even faster. oh my god, your hand just brushed against his.. was it intentional? no, no—it mustn't be. you wouldn't waste your time doing that.

but you might even look more tenser than he is.

despite the attempt at flushing down the tightness in his throat, his words still break off into a croaky stammer that just sends his face into a grimace because, did he sound like that? "I'm.. I'm really sorry, you didn't have to do this," he says, looking away with those eyes that just screams a mixture of 'I hate it all.' and 'I'm so scared.'

his eyes in comparison to yours, dull significantly in terms of greatness. cause as rare as it is for your eyes to meet, he'll always marvel at the lush hue your eyes are colored with—and god, your lashes. so pretty, so, so pretty.

he sulks. he doesn't deserve this.

"it's alright," you answer in response, voice quiet but it's the only thing he ever hears despite the myriad of people quite nearly squishing the both of you. the crowd is large, and noisy. so he isn't sure why he's suddenly the greatest listener when you speak. "I'm glad you thought of... inviting me along, I know you're quite passionate about it."

passionate is not a strong enough word, it could be an incorrect word to use even. he supposes it's just a nice feeling to excel—be good at something.

but with how hot his heart is probably burning, maybe passionate really is the right word.

for you that is.

most likely idia's ideal type of player two <3 someone he can keep up with, not too fast and certainly not too slow. but either way, he’s probably having a heart attack at whatever you do. literally just sleeping? his heart… playing with him? please match avatars at once or he will combust. (and yes, he is hinting even though you already match everywhere else. had a house in a game, got married in a game.)

don’t even pull out the fact he buys you the currency to match and you feel bad cause he thinks it’s too cute. you need to stop or else he will buy you more.

speaking of more in game terms, he surprisingly garners a lot of attention online maybe because he’s endgame in every single account he’s made and many people like money so… there are many attempts at ‘rizzing’ him up but in the end he’s provoking them to screenshot it and report them as online daters.

^ says THE online dater.

still reports people if they flirt with you, but compared to his. not only is it a file for online dating he somehow dug up the dirt, the monstrous things they did like… 3 years ago and now they’re gonna get suspended. It’s concerning since he was talking with you animatedly during it and he somehow also exposed them all in 10 minutes.

did the see you again trend in secrecy cause he would rather leap down a hole to hell than let people see it. In any case… if it isn’t obvious he’s the lala, you the okok.

deluded himself, is convinced that he’s actually the nonchalant, ‘cool’ one but all he is, is a literal puddle. is still solid when standing but will be putty in your hands in SECONDS.

idia is secretly really proud of himself whilst being like: how did i even pull them. cause when he looks at your face when you’re talking to other people. he’s actually kind of scared cause it’s a really wondrous thing you never once looked at him like that… (please save his mind too. he’s trying to convince himself that you must be like this, soft person he knows to other people too and not just him because that’s just crazy right haha.. hahahaha…)

the type to tell you to stand back during raids, challenges, boss fights, etc… that all you need to do is be there, and that he’ll solo it for you and you can claim your rewards even though he gave you the rarest, strongest equipment in respective games which won’t be much use at this point cause he insists he do it for you, and sulks all day if you don’t let him.

stay at home couple >>>

will order every single thing you crave during those times he’s too shy to consider date nights, and you too so it’s like an unspoken thing. he honestly plays better when you’re inside his room, even if it’s just laying on his messy bed scrolling on your phone or munching on something.

it’s just complete, comfortable silence.

except for the time one of you accidentally makes an indirect flirty comment and now the room could be considered a sauna from the literal steam only two people emitted.

really, really, really, REALLY, likes it when your head is on his shoulder.

“─ean.. no one really asked for it, the nerf was completely unnecessary and─” the words poured out of his mouth, something uncontrollable that he couldn’t stop. there is something about you that just kicks down the layer of anxiety on him. comfortable might be the right word, even if you don’t talk that much (which is surprising cause he ends up being the talkative one and you always assure him that you like to listen.) somehow the thought: am i too annoying? doesn’t really pop up like usual.

in fact, he’s excited to ramble all about it. excited to hear your thoughtful hums, excited to see your attentive eyes on him since the first word he’s said─but it isn’t. because he looks up and you’re blinking haphazardly, thrice in a second and before he panics to shut his mouth he feels the soft slump of your head against the curve of his shoulder.

oh my god, oh my god, oh my g─

if idia had half of his mind he would scream instinctively at the weight he isn’t really accustomed to feel. actually, even if he did have his entire brain connected, and his thoughts coherent he still would. but he bites the inside of his cheek cause despite the chaos that just erupted in his mind which is somehow simultaneously blank, and swirling.

and he remembers midst his confusion that you are,

asleep.

you’re asleep on his shoulder

you’re asleep.

asleep on his shoulder.

on. his. shoulder.

he resorts to the screech in his head.

his shoulder─is so terribly stiff right now to the point where he thinks that sleeping on a hard, wooden surface would be surely more comfortable rather than where your head lays. he makes an effort to relax his muscles, tell himself that it’s only you and that there’s nothing wrong but there is something wrong because it’s you! idia dares to sneak a peek at you and your closed lids only confirm your unconscious state.

and careful with each nudge his movement makes sends to your head. idia can’t resist the hands that creep up his face and bury it, to hope all the embarrassment and whatever he’s feeling right now absorbs it right out of his face because god. he knows he looks like he just ate 10 bowls of lilia’s cooking.

he would scream, he really would. a second thought but you’re on his shoulder!

you, who rarely touches him too much.

on him.

him, who gets too flustered to be touched by you.

so he feels pretty obligated to just suck it up cause he’s enjoying the moment even if you aren’t conscious right now and he sure as hell is going to, for as long as he can.

idia releases a deep sigh, long and wistful because he’s gonna die before you even wake up.

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed !#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fluff #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #x gn reader

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soundspeachytome · 5 months

Text

baby fever - shohei ohtani au

summary: (i don't think this needs a summary, the title says it all lol)

word count: 10,584K

tags: fluff, mentions of sex, impregnation

other notes: midnight word vomit things~ i honestly didn't think i would be able to write something so soon after the one i posted on NYE but i'm blaming that video of shohei playing with some kids on my timeline. my thoughts have secured me a seat in hell.

enjoy and cry in delusion with me.

=====================================

Shohei couldn’t help himself but beam all the way home. He had spent his entire day surrounded by a group of kids no older than twelve years old, the youngest around five, to help facilitate the annual children sports camp at the elementary school he worked at. Being the only teacher who had played baseball during his primary and secondary years in school, he was elected by default to coach a few hours’ session of baseball basics to which he did not object. Aside from that, he also helped facilitate another few hours in assisting the lead teachers during the games like scavenger hunt, capture the flag, and water balloon dodgeball. The last one being his favorite, he was just supposed to be watching and making sure none of the kids get hurt, or if ever they do, he’d play medic when the need arises. Thankfully, his first aid skills were put to the backseat and he was joined in on the fun when one of the twelve-year old campers aimed a water gun at him. He had no choice but to retaliate. With his wide hands and arm support, he grabbed a bunch of water balloons and aimed at anyone within proximity, creating an entirely new chaos between the kids and the other teachers, too.

He had ended the day soaked and sore from all the laughing and running around trying to avoid the kids aiming at him. Thankfully, you had made sure to pack him extra clothes to change into. “Just in case you get a little too fun and get soaked in sweat,” you had said, ignoring Shohei’s initial comments on not needing extra clothes since he was not technically sleeping over for the night. But proven to be always right, he made a mental note to get you something special as a way to thank you for being, well, the best.

After he had changed into his comfy cotton pants and white shirt, he bid goodbye to everyone at camp, especially the kids he had made friends with. They hugged him and some even gave him DIY goodbye presents (one gave him a bracelet made out of plucked flowers and laced it around his wrist), a tall kid with glasses who must be around seven years old gave him his precious Snickers bar, almost melted, and the youngest girl of the bunch clung onto his leg and tried to stop him from leaving. These short but meaningful interactions touched Shohei that he almost felt bad for leaving.

“Will you teach us again next summer camp, Teacher?” one kid had asked.

“Hmm. Maybe, we’ll see,” Shohei beamed, eyeing the other teachers in response. If not for the lead teachers and school principal, he would not have been able to cross the schoolgate and reach his car. He waved one last goodbye to the kids who stood behind the gates and then drove away.

He couldn’t wait to go home to you and tell you about his day.

You were in the kitchen when you heard Shohei’s Corolla park in the garage. You continued tending to the Tsuyu broth and soba noodles that you were saving up for a warm day like this.

While Shohei was out for camp duties the entire day, you were able to finish the flower embroidery design you had been challenged with for over a week now. Being new to the craft, you had a slightly difficult time understanding the patterns in the first place, but once you got the hang of it, you were on a roll and without realizing it, you were already done. You regretted buying only one design thinking it would take you longer to complete it, and also considering that you were the type to abandon something when you feel overwhelmed or had just simply lost the fixation, just like the few hundred other abandoned projects you started this year. This time, however, you were so accomplished that you couldn’t wait for Shohei to come home and brag.

Upon his arrival, Shohei sees you busy in the kitchen, humming to Adele. He put his bag on the countertop and went straight to you, your back facing him. He embraced you from behind, leaning his chin on your shoulder and slightly shifted his weight against your body.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” You angled your face upwards to meet him and he planted a kiss straight to your lips. When you went back to what you were doing, he left kisses on the small spots on your neck and shoulder.

“Hmm, I love soba. I was craving for this.” He murmured against your skin. He still had his arms wrapped around, waiting for you to finish and give him your full attention.

“Really? Didn’t I tell you that I’m a mind-reader?” you joked and turned the stove off and faced Shohei.

“Yes and you are the best.” He did not waste another second and kissed you tastefully on the mouth. As soon as he got your attention, he made sure your tongue was preoccupied with his.

You stayed like that for a few seconds. A slow summer day deserves an equally slow and hot makeout session like this. Shohei put both his hands behind your back and you had no choice but to push your body closer to him while you coiled your hands behind the nape of his neck, tugging a few strands of his thick hair.

“What’s gotten you so worked up today, love?” you asked when you separated.

He pulled back, catching his breath and looked seriously at you.

“Let’s start doing it, love.”

“Do what?”

“Kids. Babies. I want to put a baby on you right now.” He massaged your lower back and showered your neck with more kisses.

“So sudden?” You looked at Shohei with bewilderment. You weren’t angry or anything, just a little surprised that he had suddenly brought it up. You had always known to use oral and physical contraception ever since you started dating and like an unspoken promise, you made sure that your relationship would not bear anything both of you didn’t feel like committing to yet. But this was definitely something new.

“I was just thinking… At camp, the kids loved playing with me… some even clung to me–like this–” he hugged you tightly in demonstration. “--and I almost choked up when I was driving away.”

“And…?”

“I played with kids the whole day, I realized that I really, really want to have kids.” He pouted.

In a way, Shohei had always been great with kids. You saw how he used to fawn over your neighbors’ kids and their tiny steps, how he’d wave to babies in strollers whenever you’d pass by them, smiling extra wide.

“Like, I really, really, really do. We’ve been married for three years now. Don’t you think it’s time for us to get pregnant?”

You were silent the whole time, looking straight into Shohei’s face, and trying to see any hint of him joshing around but he was nothing but serious with his dead set eyes and determination.

“What are you thinking, love?” He asked, getting fidgety after seeing you were quiet for a while.

“Are we even ready for kids? There are a lot of newer parents that get divorced after babies are born…” you trailed off. Shohei noticed your worry and decided to change the topic.

“I’m sorry, I won’t force it if you’re not comfortable.” he kissed your nose and pulled you into a tight hug. “The noodles look amazing! So much about my day, they can wait… What did you do all day without me?”

Dinner ensued and the pregnancy topic was never brought up again, much to your relief. Shohei was quite understanding and never the pushy type. He always made sure that when you both decide on anything, you were both in it, just like when he moved in with you after a year of dating, when you decided to get married a few months after, and then buying a house.

You felt no pressure whatsoever about creating a family with Shohei because he never pressured you or his family. You don’t know if you wanted kids at all. When you were single, you thought there was not a single good man left on earth but meeting Shohei had changed your mind. Maybe, with the right kind of man, it’d be possible to love and still be loved properly while having kids. So yes, maybe. Maybe one day, you’d want Shohei’s children but were waiting for the right time. You hoped maybe someday, bearing kids will not just be a reluctant maybe, but a definite, sure and unwavering yes.

Not until Shohei’s sister came to town to visit a few days later and brought their two year old daughter in tow. Shohei was ecstatic. He had fallen in love with his niece the moment he met her. He’d carry her as much as he could when they visited, buying her presents for every occasion, sometimes even when there’s really nothing to celebrate at all.

This time, when Shohei had picked up his niece, Nora, from her trolley and into his arms, kissing her lightly on the cheek, cooing and swinging her back and forth along with their boisterous laughter ringing around the house, you felt something shifted.

You felt the anxiety on your shoulders lift and leave your body, leaving you with an immense sensation of love and happiness. You sat at the dinner table watching Shohei play peekaboo with Nora while she sits on his lap, and couldn’t help but imagine Shohei carrying a baby–your offspring–while feeding her, or humming it to sleep. It sounds like a beautiful dream, doesn’t it?

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

After they had left and the house was silent again, you cornered Shohei in the kitchen, who was loading the dishes in the dishwasher. He was humming a Cocomelon nursery rhyme which you assumed was the same song he had played on his ipad with Nora.

“Shohei.” You tugged his arm and looked at him straight in the eyes.

“Yes, love?”

“Let’s do it.”

“Do what now?” He said mindlessly, pulling his sleeves down and shrugged off the kitchen apron.

“Fuck a baby into me, I said.” You raised your voice, unsure where to look.

It took him a few seconds to understand but when it finally dawned on him, he wasted no time and carried you into his arms bridal style.

When he pushed you onto the bed, kissing you hungrily, both of you still half-undressed, he suddenly pulled back and asked, “Wait, is this your new kink now? Seeing me with kids?”

“What, no.” Your hands busied on the buckle of Shohei’s belt and when that ordeal was done, had pulled his boxers down to touch him. Like a knee jerk reaction, his hips jerked forward to your hand.

Definitely.

“Hmm, this is going to be a long night,” he whispered, biting at the garter of your underwear and pulling it down with his teeth. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Absolutely.

“I’ve never been so sure.”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows and met Shohei’s lips, while he slowly entered you, both of you adjusting to the size and feeling. He started thrusting in and out of you hungrily, as if on a mission, determined to fill you to the brim. And you, on the brink of pleasure and chasing your high, you couldn’t help but moan Shohei’s name and said, yes, yes, yes, over and over. Like an assurance statement, like a promise.

This is my yes, unquestionably, a hundred times over.

#shohei ohtani au #shohei ohtani imagines #shohei ohtani pov #shohei ohtani #shohei ohtani smut #shohei ohtani fluff

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guccybangtan · 1 year

Text

some thoughts about sebastian sallow (playing through as a gryffindor)

*this isn't going to be bit by bit but rather little random thoughts I had as I was playing! maybe i'll make a part two with more random thoughts lol

you can't tell me this fool wasn't smitten with you from the moment you beat him dueling in defense against the dark arts

at first he didn't know how to feel, surprised that he lost to the new fifth-year (also considering they're a filthy Gryffindor)

"not bad for a beginner, you give as good as you get"

Sebastian literally sneaking into the restricted section with you?? and taking the fall? there's no way he had no feelings for you.

Why would anyone get in trouble for some other student they just met and didn't really know?

the first (and like only tbh) real fight the two of you ever had was when he called you ignorant for trusting Lodgok. All you wanted was to stop Ranrock and help Anne in the process. Why couldn't he understand that?

Of course this made you upset, and so you told him off. If he couldn't see that he was taking things too far you needed to remind him.

even when his mind was preoccupied with Anne and his emotions, his still felt the need to apologize for his actions

when he said "I do trust you" after arguing

him hyping you up after viewing Isadora's pensive.

"you've more than proven yourself! you have the ability!"

he would be so supportive of you, even though you come from different houses.

I feel like Ominis would be one of your best friends too.

after everything that happened over the course of fifth year, he'd feel like he could trust you like he trusts Sebastian. You'd become like family to him.

I also totally imagine Ominis harassing Sebastian and being like "where's your Gryffindor?" or "haven't seen your Gryffindor around lately." or honestly maybe even "how's our Gryffindor doing?" once you get closer

making him cast crucio on you? good lord he almost lost his mind. He likely felt so bad for having to hurt the only person who was standing by his side and truly helping him.

him immediately asking if you were all right. I literally fell in love.

You standing by him even when everything happened with Anne and Uncle Solomon in the catacombs.

He knew then that he made the right choice befriending you, and that maybe there was nothing wrong with loving a Gryffindor.

'' I'm glad you came to Hogwarts"

I'd love to hear everyone else's thoughts about him!!

#Sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow hogwarts legacy #Sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #please I love him so much #I wish dating was allowed I ship him and my Gryffindor!!

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mint-yooxgi · 3 months

Note

If drabbles are still open and if it is at all possible I’d like to request for another entry into The Misery of Fate (Werewolf Ateez x Vampire Reader) drabble. No worries if not but I absolutely adore the first two parts. You create such breathable universes and characters.

+ the other four asks I got asking for a part 3 lol

Part One, Part Two

***

Nothing but silence greets you all around. It's been about ten minutes since your bold confession, and though they haven't invited you in, they did ask you to stay.

"So..." The one you've learned is named Hongjoong begins. "You're a vampire."

You blink at him. "I think we've established that."

"And you're invincible?" The one known as San furrows his brow.

"Until proven otherwise." You blink again, eyes darting to the eight males that stand across from you on the porch.

The one with the mole beneath his eye - Wooyoung - shuffles a bit closer. His gaze shifts from his feet to your own almost nervously.

"Would you..." He swallows lightly, looking up at you through his lashes as he receives some pointed looks from the ones you've learned are called Mingi and Yeosang. "Would you like to go out sometime?"

"Wooyoung!" Seonghwa, the one with the wide eyes, immediately smacks the male upside the head.

You purse your lips in distaste.

"Hwa's right. This isn't the time or place to be asking." Hongjoong scolds him, gaze sharp as he looks at the other male.

"You shouldn't be asking at all." Mingi states, quite harshly.

"Like you weren't thinking it, either!" The buff one - Jongho - is quick to defend his brother.

"Whether we ask them out or not isn't our main priority right now." The tallest one - Yunho - adds gruffly.

"But killing them is?" Wooyoung shouts, disbelief clear on his features.

"We never said we were going to bite them." Hongjoong sighs.

"Speak for yourself." Mingi grumbles, receiving a cautious nudge from Yunho.

"Look," you sigh, bringing your hand up to pinch at the bridge of your nose. "I don't have time to waste on whether you're going to like me or not. You told me you wanted to talk." Your sharp gaze makes them all stiffen across from you. "So talk."

Another harsh glare is sent from Hongjoong to the others, but it's Yeosang - birthmark - that speaks.

"What is it you would like to do?"

His questions is innocent, blinking at you with curious eyes. There is no malcontent you can sense from him when he asks this, only a genuine feeling of solving a problem you're all facing at the moment.

You take a moment to think. What is it you really want to do? Why did you really come to see these eight wolves after learning you're fated to them? Was it worth it?

"I would like an answer." You hum, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "And a solution."

"Are those not one and the same?" San asks, tilting his head in curiosity.

"They can be." You confirm. "But in this case, I do not believe they will be mutually exclusive. Clearly, some of you are willing to try." You nod at Wooyoung and Jongho, sparing a glance at Hongjoong out of the corner of your eyes. "While others have condemned me from the start." Your gaze settles on Mingi, eyeing both Yunho and Yeosang cautiously. "I can't help your confusion while being confused myself."

Both San and Seonghwa share a look between each other at your final words, humming lightly in agreement.

"I'm not full enough of myself to even suggest splitting a clan apart." You begin, noticing how a few of them shift uncomfortably on their feet. "Either you come to a decision as a group, or I'm gone. I already told you I'm okay with leaving and never seeing each other again. I'm not going to stand here and beg for any of you to change your mind, either. I learned a long time ago pleading gets you nowhere. Especially when someone's already made a decision for you."

They all stiffen at that, Mingi frowning a bit deeper as they recall how you told them you were turned.

Jongho looks down at his feet, playing with his hands as he holds them in front of himself. "Is that what you want, though?"

You shrug, seemingly nonchalant about it all.

Hongjoong frowns. "Is that what you want? To leave and never come back? To not explore what this bond means to any of us? To give up your life again because of some stupid, centuries old feud between species?"

For a moment, nothing is said between all of you as you avert your gaze to the ground. A frown is prominent on your features as you think everything over, pursing your lips in the process.

Looking back up at them all, you have your answer.

"No." Your voice is firm. "That's not at all what I want."

#ask #ateez drabble #wolf au #vampire au #polyteez au #ateez scenario

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