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screeching-bunny · 3 months

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Yandere! Townspeople Harem x Lucky Reader

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: I have no clue what I was on when I wrote this 💀. This is also inspired by a Reddit post I saw long time ago.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who are absolutely enamored by you and everything that you do. They treat you as if you are some kind of entity waiting to be put on a golden pedestal and paraded around town. You are essentially the town’s golden boy/girl/person, a mascot if you can even call it that. In their eyes everything that you do is inspiring and encouraged. It also doesn’t help that you were born with this amazing power that causes you to become extremely lucky. No matter the deed, every action was thrust into the spotlight as if it were a gracious gesture for the community's well-being. Take, for instance, if you ever fatally shot someone the townsfolk would erupt in applause, discovering the individual to be a notorious mass murderer and your action saved the town.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who can’t help but gush over every miniscule achievement that you got. You got a perfect attendance award? They wouldn’t expect anything less from you. Did you just get a participation trophy? Well they're cheering for you as if you just won the world cup. To say their actions are embarrassing is definitely an understatement. Everytime they cheer for you, you can’t help but die a little bit on the inside.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who absolutely cannot fathom the idea of you moving out of their town. They would much rather skin themselves alive and commit arson than to allow you to leave them. Everywhere you go, there will always be some form of eyes on you. There will always be some type of survance of you at any time of the day. Depending on the person, the townspeople's love for you can either be platonic or romantic. Basically half of the town wants to fuck your and the other half sees you as their beloved child or grandchild.

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople who may or may not be human. Like sure they might have the occasional human sacrifices but what town doesn’t!?!? This is totally normal behavior that people exhibit. What’s that? Did you just see a tentacle coming out from that woman over there? Nahhh. You must be imagining that! What a cute and overactive imagination you have there. In all seriousness, it would literally die for you. You're just a cutie patootie to them. Your small teeth are so cute compared to their razor sharp fangs. You know, you could really use that small mouth of yours and suck on their–

🌟 Yandere! Townspeople have a monthly ritual where they gather around to brag about all of the items that they stole from you. Never in your life will you see someone so happy to own a pair of used underwear that didn’t belong to them or some used pair of socks. If you looked up a textbook definition of “down bad” then a picture of the Yandere! Townspeople would be the first images to pop up. In your presence these people act as if they had never touched grass or seen the sun before. They all seem to have some type of mutual agreement that in your presence, they would try to act somewhat normal in order to not scare/scar you too much.

—

From a young age, your luck was apparent. In school, while others struggled with exams, you breezed through them effortlessly, always managing to stumble upon the exact answers needed to excel. Teachers marveled at your natural knack for stumbling upon solutions, even in the most challenging of situations. As you grew older, the extraordinary luck only seemed to amplify. Job interviews turned into job offers within minutes, as if the universe conspired to ensure your success in every endeavor. Colleagues joked that working with you was like having a lucky charm around, as projects that seemed doomed to fail miraculously turned into resounding triumphs whenever you were involved. It might seem great and all BUT DAMN WAS THIS LIFE SO FUCKING BORING!!!! Which is why you decided to spice up your day a little and rob a bank.

“Oh hello [Reader]! Is this going to be the usual procedure?” The bank teller asks you with a smile on their face as you hold a gun to their face. “You know… the weather is perfectly nice today. It would be a perfect day for a date don’t you think–”

Suddenly a thunderous crash was heard, the police burst through the bank doors, their badges glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights. Guns drawn and voices booming commands, they swept into the lobby, faces masked with determination. Until the police chief sees you and lets out a tired sigh, “Guns down everyone, it’s just [Reader].” A faint sound of disappointed groans can be heard from the crowd of bank patrons from the back. “Why are the police here so soon, I didn’t get enough time to admire their pretty face.” another voice could be heard, “For real, their never this fast in an actual emergency. I mean they only just shot and killed one person, it's really nothing to worry about like who cares–”

—

“You are free to go [Reader], again.” the police officer states as she releases you from your handcuffs. “Turns out the man that you shot ended up being a drug dealer. You really have a special talent for catching criminals don’t you. She states as she gazes at you with loving eyes. “You know I’m free after this shift, you think we can–”

Before she can finish her sentence you walk away with a dejected look on your face. You couldn’t believe how boring a day this turned out to be. Seriously, you wished that something exciting would happen in this town for once you think to yourself. Failing to notice a scene behind you. One that consisted of a bunch of monsters eating the souls of the innocent while on their knees for a statue that seemed to look like you. They all seem to be gripping onto something though– HEY, WAIT A MINUTE ARE THEY HOLDING YOUR UNDERWEAR!?!!?

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere harem #yandere townspeople

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hoshigray · 10 months

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MAPPA gave Nanami such beautiful hands that they never fail to make you feel things.

a/n: Bye, the trailer JUST came out, and I can't get over how good they made Nanami, so I'm writing out this to put myself together. @satoruhour pushed me on to write this so ty swee-T-pie, love u sm 💓 this is just like when they released that hidden inventory trailer and i drooled over Toji's hands help 💀 so yeah this is just me writing a short smthn for kento's hands, sorry not sorry. also tysm for 1.9k!!!

cw: Nanami x fem/afab! reader - first soft then smutty, so minors DNI - h@nd h0lding - soft dom! Nanami bc yes - fingering (f! receiving) - hand kink (ig?) - fingers in reader's mouth - pet names (angel, love, sweet girl) - praise - clitoral play - you and Nanami in a cute domestic relationship ♡

wc: 950

You love Kento Nanami's hands. It's no secret to yourself because it's the truth. But you can't blame yourself; you can't help it! There are so many moments with him where you can't help but admire the man's big hands, and honestly, it's embarrassing at this point. It's a guilty pleasure that makes you feel such pleasant emotions, makes you want him more and more.

Even before the two of you expressed courtship, there were days when you'd encounter and have idle chitchat with the stoic man, and those were days that were hard to go through when you had such a tremendous crush on the guy. So much so that you'd drift your gaze away from his feline mocha eyes masked by his eyepiece. Instead, you'd look at his hands, admiring how beautiful and big they are. Aside from his face, they were the only thing visible from his dapper suit. Not that you complained, though. The more you saw and talked with Nanami, the more you marveled at his hands in your thoughts.

And when you two finally started dating, things were going slow and steady. Just as the two of you wanted — no rush at all. But a memory you hold dear to your heart was when the two of you walked home in the cold winter. The chilly breeze sent shivers down your spine, and your nose found breathing tricky in the extreme temperature change. Not to mention you forgot your mittens at home. Just my luck...

However, it wasn't all that bad. After all, your boyfriend (it felt a little weird calling him that) offered to walk you to your place, sticking close to your side, which was a rarity back then. Heat finally found its way up to your cold cheeks when Nanami took the initiative to grab ahold of your hand with his, the size difference making it easy to exchange warmth. "Here," he said so nonchalantly it almost felt like a dream. "Don't want the wind to blow you off the sidewalk." It was such an airy gag from the usually silent man, yet you chuckled and held his hand tighter, the cold overlooked throughout the rest of the walk.

Even watching him doing the most ordinary things is a sight. Whether he's washing dishes, making the bed, or cutting vegetables for the next meal he was cooking for you two, your eyes would always find their way to his deft hands. Rugged palms moving swiftly and gracefully, veins that stem from the back trail upwards to his forearm, and thick fingers with scars so faded with time that you'd have to be very close to see them. You're so in love with him — with his hands. They make you feel safe and secure, warm and loved. Specifically in times when you two are close to each other. Whether it's you resting on his chest as he reads a book while rubbing circles on your back or holding hands with you two walking around the vicinity, it couldn't get any better.

...Well, perhaps now as you're lying on the bed with your back to his chest, succumbing to his touch as one hand cups your cheeks while the other burrows inside your panties — his fingers intruding between your folds and playing with your leaky entrance staining the underwear with your come.

"Ooooh, Kentooo..." You moan to his thick digits in your vulva, scraping your spongey walls that result in high wails. He rubs your cheeks and maneuvers your face to the side so he can lay kisses on your neck, and you melt under his lips with a blissful hum.

"Open your legs a bit more for me, angel." His command is hushed to your ears. You follow his instructions and spread your legs further apart, and he rewards you with another finger added to your chasm. Now both the fore and middle digits slide deep into you, and the brush of his thumb on your clit results in sudden wails. "Good, that's my sweet girl."

His fingers graze your insides expertly, having you writhe on him with how good he's making you feel with just his fingers alone. The speed of his digits increases by the second, and you can feel the wave start rising in your body. Your body jolts with every scrape of his fingertips, pornographic whines fly out your mouth, and your face gets hotter and hotter.

"Haaaah!! Mmnnn...Kento, I'm so close. 'S so close, I'm—Mmmph!?" You don't get to finish that sentence when Nanami stuffs his free fingers into your mouth, your tongue immediately coating the two digits with your saliva.

"Go on, come on me, love." His sweet words were what it took for everything to come crashing down, the fingers in your cunt quicken in pace, and his thumb flicking on your clitoris — causing you to grab onto his forearm. Scratching the clothed limb and heavy pants drawing inward, your cunt clamps around on his fingers as your orgasm comes to pull you in for a euphoric release.

And Nanami lets your body experience the shocks on top of him, laying precious kisses on your temple and cheeks. He slowly removes his digits from your satisfied cunt with a whimper from your puffy lips. "Did so well like always, angel." In your daze, you still share a smile and welcome his lips on yours.

Like you said before — Nanami's hands are your guilty pleasure in more ways than one. And it feels so good to know he reciprocates those desires with mutual love. If such a gorgeous and attentive man can have you under him with just his sheer touch, then so be it.

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ma1dita · 5 months

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anything you want

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 1.6k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where you and him have your first kiss. It’s just Luke. He’ll do anything you tell him to, even if you talk too much. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: trouble is a yapper yall should know that by now. happy first kiss to you and luke!

(posted 1/25/24 unbetad)

—

“Come on, Castellan, we’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry!”

Your foot taps steadily on the forest floor, waiting for Luke to finish his demonstration of how to slay a chimera, and at the sound of your voice, he sheathes his sword and claps Chris on the back to finish up the workshop.

“Where you off to, man?”

“Gotta help our favorite head counselor set up for Greek Legends & Theatrics,” he says matter-of-factly, setting his battle armor to the side and making the walk up the steep hill towards the amphitheater to meet you like he’s following a siren call.

“Simp,” Chris mutters before his best friend slaps him across the head and jogs away.

“My hands are full, Rodriguez!”

“You wish!” Chris calls out as he picks up his sword, watching the slight blush rise on Luke’s pale cheeks as he almost trips over his own feet.

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Watch your fucking language,” you say sternly, which makes the both of you laugh when he finally meets you at the top of the hill. Instantly, you’re relinquishing everything in your hands: your water jug, the bag of costumes, a binder of scripts, and a ukelele. Luke’s juggling everything as best he can with no complaints, following your footsteps as he bumps the body of the uke against his hip to get a better grasp as he marvels at your excitement for your little drama club.

“What’re you teaching today, trouble?”

“Orpheus and Eurydice, and it’s gonna be great! One of my personal favorites! The kids should be ready for the performance at the end of the month,” you grin, walking backward as you descend the stone steps of the amphitheater.

You’ve both grown into your roles here at camp, finding places you shine and excel at and together you bridge what the kids, your kids, are lacking. But he can see how you let yourself thrive here, being the operative heart of Camp Half Blood, and you’re radiating as you beckon him to follow you.

Following you around has become a habit as of late, one that he’s only recently made himself aware of. Sure, he’s always loved annoying you and doing something stupid to get a reaction, whether it be a snide remark or a smile, but something in your dynamic has changed. You’re head counselor after all, and even though he’s only in charge of busy cabin 11, his hand is always extended to whatever you have to offer. Quite simply, he loves it when you look for him, there’s no other explanation for it.

You’ve always troubled him, his thoughts, his life— but Luke can’t define it, or deem it something he can live without. It doesn’t make sense, and now he often finds himself wondering what it would be like to be more than whatever you are; not enemies, not necessarily friends, but perhaps a secret third thing, something he admittedly holds sacred.

Luke trusts you with his life, but wouldn’t choose you to be his quest companion again he thinks, not after the scar only you deem pretty is an evident sign of his personal transgression. He stares at you for a second too long while you ramble, organizing your thoughts out loud that he doesn’t notice any of the actual words falling from your lips because he’s entranced by them. Slight worry crosses his sharp features as he realizes he could kill someone if you got hurt.

Fuck.

There’s a space he’s carved out for you in his heart that he reminds himself not to name yet and now you’re looking for him again, turning to him when you realize he hasn’t followed.

When did you get so close to him?

“Luke!” you exclaim, nibbling on your bottom lip as you snap your fingers in his face.

“Are you even listening to me? I need an extra hand setting up smores stuff for the bonfire later if you’re free, and then we have night shift after…” You’re leaning against the table with a delicate smile on your face and in moments like these where you rattle off your routine that he gladly picks apart— Luke feels a sort of elation better than any quest or glory he can achieve. Only you can make unpaid labor sound like Elysium.

He nods absentmindedly, eyes flickering to your lips as you continue to speak, and he can’t help but admire how the way the sun filters through your hair…

Maybe Chris was onto something…

“You okay? If you need a break you can sit and watch us, the kids should be coming soon to start.”

Your fingers graze his bicep, and he blinks at you, your eyes wide with curiosity and a fire that can’t be tamed. You drive him crazy. He probably looks like a lunatic, frozen in place as he stares at you, so he shakes his head lightly, albeit unconsciously as he furrows his eyebrows, scar crinkling with his eyes as he smiles at you. What a dork.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you laugh, your head falling onto your shoulder as you look at him sideways. You’ve noticed Luke is softer with you nowadays, hands always full when you keep him busy, and unlike the other cabin counselors, seldom does he fight you about camp duties. He’ll fight you about anything else though, just to get the last swipe at your attention, to make sure your eyes are on him.

And they always are, whether you can help it or not.

Luke steps forward, duffel bag still in hand and ukelele at his other side and suddenly he looks like he’s on a mission, his signature smirk stealing the air from your lungs as you forget what you’re saying.

“Like what, trouble?”

Nervous laughter bubbles from you at the increasing proximity. It’s the first time he’s spoken since you got down here. His cargos brush against the smooth skin of your legs as you nestle your hips against the table, and the smell of sweat, musk, and citrus infiltrates your nostrils with a shaky breath.

“Like you’re about to make a mess of something. I can’t really tell,” you whisper. Why are you whispering? There’s no one here but you two and the sound of birds in the spring air.

It’s just Luke. Luke Castellan, who you glitter bombed when you were 14, who shoves you around every chance he gets, and steals food off your plate at every meal.

“I might. Not sure yet,” he swallows as he looms over you, the bag in his grasp falling to the side and the ukelele making a dissonant noise as he sets it on the table.

When did you let him past your defenses? The wall around your heart was well protected after years of whims of what you thought was love felt like running headfirst into concrete.

But Luke’s always been there, watching.

Though as a son of Hermes, sneaking in without a sound is what he does best. Perhaps a little too well, the both of you not noticing it for what it was until this moment.

“What are we doing?” you ask, and his reply is to pull you in by the belt loop of your denim shorts, snatching you closer with a curl of his fingers.

“You talk too much, you know that?”

Then suddenly, finally—his lips descend onto yours stealing your breath away like it's second nature, almost thoughtless and without anymore questions. There's a moment where you both sigh as if it was a relief to finally be touched like this, no hidden meanings, no ulterior motives, and nothing else makes sense but to be here kissing him.

Luke’s calloused hand weaves under your jaw and into your hair, propping you up as your knees buckle slightly, so intense and gentle at the same time, lips forging the undeniable connection between you that’s gone unspoken for so long. His hands are full of you, and he tastes like the strawberries you snuck onto his plate at lunch.

Your hands slide up the front of his shirt, a featherlike touch to confirm that he’s there though the feel of his tongue slipping in makes you wonder how much time you’ve wasted arguing with him when you could’ve been doing this.

Everything about this kiss feels familiar in a way you can’t describe, but this embrace lets you learn about him what you thought you were already so sure of. It makes you wonder if you’ve been here before in a different life, and then you remember who’s in front of you.

It’s Luke, who likes it when he gets to fall asleep to the sound of your voice telling a bedtime story, follows you around even if his siblings tease him, and never ridicules you for your innate madness.

Perhaps he’s just as mad as you.

Your eyes flutter open, and he’s already walking away, nervously chuckling like he didn’t give you a life-altering kiss. When your heart finally feels like it’s in your chest again, you grumble loudly, shaking your head with his name still caught between your teeth—

“LUKE CASTELLAN! Don't you dare run away from me!”

He's quite sure he hasn't sprinted away faster in his life. But as he runs up the steps of the ampitheater to try and clear his head, he stumbles when he looks at you, turning around every few paces until he finally catches the unmistakeable smile on your face. Luke eats shit at the top, falling against a tree and he hears the sound of your laughter.

He thinks he’ll spend the rest of his life running away if it means he can look back and see if you’ll follow.

—

“I don’t know how it is you are so familiar to me—or why it feels like I am getting to know you and more as though I am remembering who you are. How every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before—in another time, a different place—some other existence.”

-Lang Leav

ask to be put on general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl l @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x reader fanfic #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader #pjo show imagine #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #luke castellan fluff #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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ahqkas · 15 days

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♯ TOO SWEET ; mattheo riddle

❛ i take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at 3, you’re too sweet for me ❜

PAIRING! mattheo riddle x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS! in which mattheo recalled the two times you were too sweet for him (based on this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 4.1k

WARNINGS AND TAGS! consummation of alcohol, lovesick mattheo, fluff, angst, a lot of my hcs for mattheo’s past (i wrote him the way i see him), lmk if i missed smth !!

NOTES! this is purely my view on mattheo’s character bc the hc i wrote suit him sm 😿😿 reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated <3

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

ONCE A MAN FALLS IN LOVE, he finds himself drawn to not just the physical beauty of his muse, but for the essence of who the person truly is - their quirks, intelligence, kindness, and their unique way of seeing the world. Every interaction, every shared experience, every memory he brings, adds another layer to his adoration towards the love of his life.

His love for them is evident in the little things - the way he watches them when they aren't looking, the small gestures of thoughtfulness, the silent support during their dark moments of life. It's in the way he listens, truly listens, to the hopes and dreams, fears and frustrations, always eager to offer his thoughts and ideas. This love manifests in his desire to be their anchor in times of storm, their cheerleader in moments of triumph, and their person in all the in-betweens. It is a love that values their independence and individuality, recognizing that they are their own person with their own journey, and yet, he longs to be a part of that journey, to walk alongside them and share in their joys and sorrows of life.

Mattheo Riddle was no different.

He marvels at your kindness, your sweetness, and the light you bring into his life. You are his muse, his inspiration, a spark of the goodness that stands in stark contrast to his own perceived flaws and insecurities he feels deep inside himself. He sees you as an angel, a pure and radiant being who somehow chose to share your life with him, despite his own imperfections and inner demons.

He sees you as an angel in a human form, who chose to live among the devils, just so he could feel the heavenly touch for the first and last time in all eternity.

He often wonders how he, with all his rough edges, hidden scars, and a past life without a happy memory, could be worthy of your love. He feels like a monster, haunted by past mistakes and burdened by the weight of his own fears and failings. You, on the other hand, are everything he aspires to be - kind, compassionate, and endlessly forgiving. Your presence in his life is a constant reminder of the beauty and grace that he lacks, and yet, your love makes him strive to be better, to rise above his darkness and become someone worthy of your affection.

In his heart, he knows that your love is transforming him, helping him to heal and grow. Your existence is a light that dispels his inner darkness, a reminder for him to cherish that even monsters like him can be loved. He clings to this, that your love is making him a better man, one day at a time.

01. THE PARTY

The Slytherin common room was full of shadows and flickering lights, transformed into a wild moment of freedom for the night. The music, a thundering beat that echoed off the stone walls, could be heard from miles away, yet no professor or ghost visited the common room to cancel the party. It was as if the ancient castle itself had granted this one night of freedom to its most cunning and ambitious students. The rhythmic thrum of bass notes and the infectious melody of the latest wizarding hits filled the air, blending with the sound of laughter and the clink of glasses.

Bodies moved in a hypnotic dance, swaying in sync with the music. The students had discarded their usual aloof demeanors and uniforms, lost in the euphoria and joy of the moment. Green and silver decorations adorned every surface, shimmering under the enchanted lights that hung from the ceiling like glowing jewels. Laughter rang out, high and clear, mingling with the deep, resonant hum of conversation.

In one corner, a group of seventh years huddled together, their heads bent close in a whisper, before erupting into loud laughter. Nearby, a couple twirled around each other, their bodies intertwining like dark waves, eyes locked in their private world amidst the chaos around them. The fireplace, usually a place of quiet contemplation, was now surrounded by students perched on its stone ledge, their eyes gleaming with the thrill of the night and alcohol.

Long tables filled with food and drink stretched along one wall, bearing the weight of a feast other students could be jealous of. Platters of magical meals, charmed to stay warm, smelled of aromas that mingled with the scent of butterbeer and stronger beverages. Bottles of firewhisky and elf-made wine were passed from hand to hand, each sip fueling the atmosphere more and more as drunken the students got. The alcohol flowed freely, loosening tongues, transforming even the shyest students into party animals of the night.

The Slytherin common room had never felt so alive. Tonight, they were not just the students of Hogwarts; they were a family, united by their house and their understanding of what it meant to be a Slytherin.

Mattheo Riddle was one of those students who were enjoying themselves tonight. His breathing features were illuminated by the green lights as he leaned casually against a stone wall, a cup of firewhisky filled to the brim in his hand. The amber liquid sloshed perilously close to the edge with each of his slowed gestures, but Mattheo seemed unconcerned, clearly lost in the haze of alcohol. His dark curls, usually styled in the way that made uncountable amount of girls fall on their knees, now fell loose around his face as you watched from a close distance.

He was engaged in a drunken conversation with Theodore Nott, whose tall, lanky frame was the opposite to Mattheo's more athletic build. Theo's typically serious demeanor had softened, his features relaxed into a rare, genuine smile as he listened to Mattheo's ramblings with a giggle threatening to spill out from his lips. The two of them, often seen together, now looked like true brothers. It was almost scary how much they resembled family when they were drunk.

Mattheo's voice, rich and slightly slurred, carried over the music as he recounted a particularly outrageous story from his recent fight. Theodore threw his head back and laughed. It was clear to anyone how close those two boys were, drunk or sober.

"Can you believe he actually thought I was serious?" Mattheo snickered with a big grin stretching across his face, taking a swig from his cup, the whiskey burning a warm path down his throat. "I mean, I barely managed to keep a straight face!"

Theodore laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're a menace, Riddle. One of these days, you're going to get expelled."

"Ah, but tonight isn't that night, mate," Mattheo replied with a slow wink, raising his glass in a mock toast. "To living dangerously and laughing in the face of consequences!"

They clinked their cups together, the sound barely audible over the throbbing beat of the music and you thought now was the best time to approach your boyfriend.

Mattheo's brown irises scanned the crowd, catching a look of you as you pushed your way through the crowd of dancing bodies. The sight of you instantly brightened his expression and a genuine smile spread across his face. He felt a rush of emotions that the whiskey in his hand only intensified, each beat of his heart echoing with the certainty that what he held for you was pure love. The Slytherin straightened up, his posture shifting from the casual slouch of a carefree boy to the attentive stance of a man. Theodore noticed the change and a knowing smirk made its appearance on his lips as he stepped aside, giving the two of you a moment of privacy.

"[Name]," your boyfriend called out, his voice full of warmth. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you came closer. "There you are, love."

You beamed up at him, your eyes reflecting the party's enchanted lights, making them look like twin stars. "Having fun, are we?" you teased and the tone of your voice carried a playful match that always managed to make his heart skip a beat.

"Only now that you're here," he replied. The world around you seemed to blur as he gazed down at you, all the noise and chaos fading into the background. "You make everything better."

Drunk on both the whiskey and his overwhelming affection, the boy's usual reservations melted away. He held you close, his hands resting on your waist as if anchoring himself to your presence. When he was sober or feeling down at heart, his love for you was often hidden beneath layers of stoicism and insecurity, but now, in this moment of happy drunkenness, it shone through.

He bent down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips, enjoying the sweetness of the contact. "I'm so lucky to have you," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't deserve you, but I'm going to spend every day trying to be worthy of your love."

“You have no idea what you mean to me. I look at you and . . . it’s like you’re the sun and I’m just a planet orbiting around you, soaking up your light,” he continued without a break. The boy wanted to get every one of his words out as fast as humanly possible. To show you his hidden feelings he wasn't able to tell you before. “You’re my everything, [Name]. I don’t know how I got so lucky. You’re so kind, so . . . good. And me? I’m just . . . I’m a mess, you know? A monster sometimes.”

You shook your head lightly and took his hands into your own, enveloping him with your warmth. He was starting to get emotional, and you didn't need to have your boyfriend drunkenly mopping around. His mood changed like weather when alcohol got involved. “You’re not a monster, Mattheo. You’re human. We all have our demons.”

“But you,” he didn't allow you to finish your sentence before he spoke up again, his voice raw with sincerity, “you make me want to be better. For you. I see you, and I just want to be the man you deserve. I’m not always good at it, but I try. I try because you’re worth it.”

You could see the glazed look in his eyes as he swayed slightly on the spot. He was rough around the edges, you couldn't deny the truth, but he was the sweetest boy when he managed to fall in love. Which wasn't exactly difficult, Mattheo fell in love easily. But when he did, it was worth everything. Mattheo was your sweet boy. “Love,” you said softly to him, your voice filled with gentle concern to the brim, “you’ve had a bit too much to drink. Maybe it’s time to slow down a little, okay?”

Mattheo blinked, giving you a lopsided grin, his expression a mix of boyish charm and pure happiness. “But I’m fine, [nickname]. I feel great. Better than great, actually. With you here, everything’s perfect.”

“I know you’re having a good time, but I don’t want you to feel terrible tomorrow. Let’s take a break from the firewhisky for now, alright?”

He pouted slightly, his shoulders slumping as he realized you were actually serious. “You’re probably right,” he admitted, a hint of reluctance in his voice. “But only because you’re asking me.” You chuckled softly at his behavior, threading your fingers through his and gently leading him away from the dancing crowd. You navigated through the common room, moving towards a quieter corner of the space where a plush couch sat, inviting you both in with open arms. The room’s enchantments cast soft shadows on the walls, the flickering lights creating a soothing atmosphere.

“Here, sit down,” you instructed as you guided him to sit on the couch. Mattheo obeyed, sinking into the cushions with a contented sigh. You sat beside him, your hand never leaving his. You took the half-empty cup of whiskey from his hold, reaching for a glass of water on the table nearby instead and handing it to him. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Mattheo took the glass, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. He took a long sip, the cool water a welcome relief from the heat of the alcohol he consumed. “You really do take good care of me, don’t you?” he murmured, his head resting against the back of the couch as he looked at you with a mixture of admiration and exhaustion.

“Someone has to,” you replied playfully, brushing a stray curl of hair from his forehead. “And I wouldn’t want anyone else to have the job.”

As the night wore on, Mattheo felt a warmth spreading through him that was only partly due to the whiskey. It was the warmth of belonging, of being surrounded by friends who understood and accepted him, flaws and all. Despite his often rough exterior, he was deeply grateful for these moments, these stolen hours of joy in the corners of the Slytherin common room.

02 - THE MARK

The past has a profound power to shape a man, especially when that past is influenced by suffering at the hands of a father.

For Mattheo Riddle, his family history was the darkest shadow of all the shadows that clung to him, a reminder of the pain and fear that had molded his entire life. Raised in a home devoid of warmth, where love was a foreign concept and cruelty was a daily reality, Mattheo had learned to build tall and thick walls around his heart. A shield to protect him from more hurt that would come his way.

The orphanage was a harsh place, stripped of the luxuries the boy had unknowingly been born into. It was a world of strict discipline and a poor form of affection. The caretakers, overwhelmed and underfunded, had little patience for a child with such a notorious legacy. Mattheo grew up under the weight of whispers and sideways glances, the infamous name "Riddle" ensuring he was never just another child. The women of the orphanage knew his father, having taken care of him when he was around the same age as his son. What a wicked child Tom was. Mattheo was different because of that, marked, and this awareness shaped his formative years in ways he could barely comprehend.

As he grew older, the whispers about his family name became more pronounced. The children at the orphanage were cruel. “Monster,” they called him, creating the very fears that nested within his own heart. He began to internalize these taunts, seeing himself through the lens of his father's sins. The idea that he could be worthy of love seemed more and more distant, more of a fantasy that had no place in his reality. But the same idea of letting someone see past his defenses, of allowing someone to love him despite his flaws, seemed not only impossible but dangerous. For how could anyone love a monster, especially one crafted by his own father?

Despite this, Mattheo yearned for something more. He longed for the kind of love he had never known, a love that was gentle and kind, that saw past his scars and accepted him for who he was. But every time he felt himself getting close to someone, the fear surged up, a wave of doubt and self-loathing washed over him and forced him to retreat behind his walls again. It was a never-ending cycle.

Hogwarts had saved him.

Mattheo Riddle’s first steps into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were met with a mixture of curiosity, awe, and apprehension. For the other students, he was a figure of whispered rumors, his infamous last name carrying with it a weight of fear and fascination. They had heard the stories of his father’s dark acts, of the legacy that haunted the halls of the castle like a ghost. But for Mattheo himself, Hogwarts represented a new beginning, a chance to escape the personal hell he called the orphanage and create his own path. The boy was no longer just another orphan. Here, he could be anything he wanted to be.

He wasn't deaf. The young boy could feel the weight of his father’s name bearing down on him like an invisible burden. And he wasn't blind either. He saw the way the other students looked at him, their eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and suspicion. They didn’t openly taunt him as the children in the orphanage had done, but he could sense the whispers and the wary glances that followed him wherever he went. For Mattheo, however, their fear was a source of power. He reveled in the attention, in the way his presence commanded respect, even if it was tinged with fear. He was finally someone.

He excelled in his classes, his natural talent and restless ambition setting him apart from his peers. But it was on the Quidditch pitch that Mattheo truly came into his own. Flying high above the castle grounds, he felt a sense of freedom unlike anything he had ever known. With every twist and turn of his broomstick, he left behind the weight of his past and embraced the thrill of the present, making him feel like a bird.

Six years had passed since Mattheo Riddle first walked through the grand doors of Hogwarts, a hopeful and determined young wizard with dreams of greatness he was so sure he'd achieve. But now, as he entered his sixth year at the renowned school of magic, the world around him had shifted irrevocably. The return of Lord Voldemort two years prior had plunged the wizarding world into chaos, and with it, Mattheo’s life had been destroyed once again.

Even among his fellow Slytherins, Mattheo felt like an outsider, a traitor to his own house and everything it stood for. He had once prided himself on his ambition and cunning, on his unwavering determination to succeed at any cost. But it didn't matter anymore.

Mattheo sat alone in the quiet atmosphere of the Astronomy Tower, his gaze fixed on the night sky that sparkled with millions of stars. Each twinkling light seemed to mock him, making fun of the darkness that now stained his soul even more than before. His fingers gripped the sleeve of his jacket tightly, as if seeking some comfort in the fabric, but finding none.

On his left forearm, the Dark Mark burned like a brand upon his skin. It was a mark of shame, of betrayal, and every time he looked upon it, he felt a sickening sense of disgust and self-loathing. He had thought that by aligning himself with the Dark Lord, his father, he would finally be able to escape the shadows of his past, to prove himself worthy of the name Riddle and his father's presence. But now, he realized that he had only succeeded in plunging himself deeper into the deep hole. Even the orphanage was better than this.

The footsteps behind him shattered the sweet silence, echoing off the stone walls of the tower. Mattheo tensed, his heart racing as he turned to face the intruder, steeling himself for whatever judgment or punishment awaited him. But as he turned, he was met not with the accusing glare of Filch or the triumphant sneer of a rival, but with the concerned gaze of a familiar face. It was you, with your eyes filled with worry as you approached him slowly, as if he'd disappear if you were a bit louder.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Are you alright?”

No, he wasn't alright. But he would be caught dead sooner than having you worry about him like that and more.

He forced a tight-lipped smile, attempting to mask the emotions raging within him. “I’m fine,” he replied, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining the facade. “Just . . . thinking.”

You stepped closer, taking a seat on the ground beside him. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Mattheo. I know something’s been troubling you lately. You can talk to me.”

You were his angel, full of that purity and light he adored about you in a world darkened by his own sins. He longed to confide in you, to unburden himself of the guilt and shame that had consumed him since he had received the Dark Mark. But the fear of your rejection, of you seeing him for the monster he believed himself to be, held him back. It would shatter his heart, to see the pained expression on your face.

“I . . .” he began, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the words, "there's something I need to show you." With a heavy heart and trembling hands, Mattheo finally mustered the courage to reveal the truth to you. For months, he had carried the burden of the dark secret alone, pushing you out and shutting you down in an attempt to shield and protect you from the darkness that was his father. But now, as he sat before you, his heart and his soul laid bare, he knew that he could no longer hide from the truth. The boy reached for the sleeve of his jacket, his fingers fumbling as he pushed the fabric up to reveal the twisted lines of the Dark Mark etched upon his skin. The sight of it made him recoil, a wave of shame washing over him as he exposed his deepest, darkest secret to the one person he had sworn to protect.

Your eyes widened in shock as you took in the mark, your palm flying to your mouth in disbelief. For a long moment, there was silence between the two of you, broken only by the sound of your shallow breathing and the distant hum of the night owls.

“I received this a few weeks ago," Mattheo confessed, his eyes avoiding yours. "When he decided I was good enough for him."

He felt your gaze on him, eyes searching his face for answers. He could see the confusion and concern written in your expression, but beneath it all, he saw something else - a flicker of understanding and acceptance that filled him with both hope and fear. How can someone be so good to someone like him? "I've been living with the Malfoys ever since," he continued, the words tumbling out in a rush as he struggled to explain himself. "But it's not what you think, [Name]. I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be a part of his plans, to be branded as one of his followers. But I had no choice. He made me do it."

Tears welled in his eyes as he spoke, and he felt a desperate plea for forgiveness in his chest. He needed you to understand, to see past the mistakes that consumed him and into the depths of his soul where his love for you burned bright and true. The thought of losing you hurt him more than the Cruciatus curse ever could.

“Forgive me. For shutting you out, for pushing you away. I was scared, I was ashamed . . . but I can't bear to keep this secret from you any longer. You deserve to know the truth, even if it means losing you forever."

Your heart swelled with a bittersweet mixture of sorrow as you gazed upon Mattheo, your sweet boy, sitting there before you with tears in his eyes and the weight of the world upon his shoulders. In that moment, all you wanted was to wrap him in your arms and shield him from the pain and darkness that threatened to consume him. With shaky hands, you reached out to him, fingers brushing against the mark of his father's followers etched upon his skin. The sight of it filled you with a fit of fierce anger, but beneath it all, you saw the boy you so dearly loved - a boy who had been shaped by his past but who was so much more than the picture of his scars.

"Love," you whispered into the dark, taking his face into your hands and wiping away those tears that managed to escape his control, "there's nothing to forgive. Nothing in this world could ever tear us apart, not even your father or that mark."

In that moment, Mattheo knew that he would do anything for you, that he would move heaven and earth to ensure your happiness and safety. You were his light in the darkness, his angel in a world filled with demons, and he would cherish that for the time being his heart swelled at the thought of you. You were simply too sweet for him and you knew that Mattheo’s struggles were far from over, but for tonight, that was enough.

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mochinomnoms · 6 months

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Do you ever think about eel cuddles? I feel like there are times when they want to snuggle and be in their eel forms while doing it so it's more comfortable for them. I kinda picture being in a big tub with one, their shrimpy is either nakey or wearing a bathing suit and just chilling in the bath with music playing and talking to them. Maybe you get to mess around with their fins or touch their cool claws all the while getting covered in their slimy love.

I do, I think about it so much and I am a sucker for non-sexual intimacy!!!! As much as I like to think about spicy thoughts with the tweels, there's something so domestic about sharing a bath with your partner, scratching and massaging their scalp and carefully rinsing out the shampoo so that it doesn't get in their eyes. It's easier to scrub your back when you have someone else there to do it for you. Yes, it's not the only time they'll see you naked, but there's something extra vulnerable about seeing all the moles, stretchmarks, and scars on your skin under a warm bathroom light.

Floyd isn't a big fan of bubble baths or using things like bath bombs, surprisingly! The idea of foaming bubbles and fizzy colors is cool at first, but all the smells and colors can overstimulate him when he's trying to relax. If he's trying to relax with his shrimpy, he actually prefers to use products with scents that remind him of home. Allow me to flex my ex-Lush employee knowledge, but he likes products that smell a lot more fresh, salty, and even citrusy! Plus, it makes you smell a lot more like him in the end. Floyd will rub his soap into your skin, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck to revel in the contact. For added measure, he'll rub his face, hands, and tail into you so that you'll be all slick and slimy just like him! He'll even do you the favor of massaging it into your skin if you throw a fit about feeling too wet. By the end, you'll have such smooth, soft skin that Vil is going to wonder if Azul decided to start selling his serum to the public.

Jade is just a tad bit more adventurous, if adventurous means picking all the woodsy, floral, and earthy scented bath products he can get his hands on. His favorite scents are rosemary and chamomile, which sounds weird at first but are actually quite pleasant. Jade will get you your very own shampoo, conditioner, and bath products suited for your hair and skin. He will only keep them in his bathroom, though. He slowly but surely gets you accustomed to his products, lush bathroom, and the soothing scrap from his nails that he repeatedly assured you wouldn't hurt. He'll use his claws to gently trace shapes and his name into your skin as he compares how different your skin's texture is compare to him. He's marveling how your fingertips prune up and your nails get softer, unlike his own hands which stay firm, slick and sharp. You're gonna get so used to Jade taking care of you in the bath that you're gonna be dragging yourself every other evening to wash up with Jade to take care of you. And care he does, for your his shrimp as well!

As a the shrimp to an eel, your their symbiote and they'll also expect you to clean them up too. Easier said than done when they're covered in a layer of mucus that sticks to your fingers and makes it hard to grab a hold of their squirming tail (they move it on purpose cause they think your furrowed brows and pout is funny). You can get them to settle down once you manage to trace the ridges of their fins, a particularly sensitive spot on their body that's the equivalent of tracing nails along your spine, soft and delightful shivers will make them chirp and click as you draw shapes and place kisses. It's a sight that the big bad scary eels reserve just for your eyes. Softness in the sea is reserved for only their mate, after all.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech #mochi asks

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avocado-writing · 5 months

Text

heart, home (astarion x reader)

notes: reader has a vulva but no pronouns are used. tags: porn with feelings, semi-public sex (elfsong tavern)

The Elfsong tavern is quiet. Well, as quiet as a place can be when it’s slap-bang in the middle of the city, obviously there’s still hubbub outside and the melody of the soft snores from your companions - but it’s quiet enough that Astarion is concentrating on keeping every little noise you make under wraps.

He’s sought out your bed. He does every night, recently. Ever since Cazador was killed he’s felt a sort of cathartic ownership over his own body. Over having free will again. And now he realises he doesn’t just want to lay with you to reassure himself, or because it’s expected of him so you’ll want him around — well, he’s been indulging in it as much as possible.

You go to moan as he slides his fingers under the waistband of your nightclothes, but he catches you - swallowing the noise by sealing his lips over yours. When his tongue asks for the pressure of your own you’re more than happy to oblige. He kisses you, long and deep, keeping you hushed as he pulls your nightclothes down just enough to allow for access. He hears the hitch of your breath when he frees himself, allowing the length of his cock to settle between the petals of your cunt. Gods, it is marvellous. He is addicted to the sounds you make. And even better you make them only for him.

One of your companions shifts across the room and the two of you still for a moment, making sure you’re not about to be caught in the act - but it’s just Karlach moving in her sleep and pulling Clive closer. When you’re sure everyone is settled again, Astarion resumes his attentions on your body; carefully he ruts against you, allowing his cock to be coated in your arousal. This time he has to stop himself moaning. He will never get tired of the warm grip of you, never, never.

He pulls back to look you in the eyes. Your pupils are blown wide in ecstasy and your body is delirious and hot from him, but you manage a sincere loving smile when you catch him watching. His dead heart skips a beat and when he reaches down to kiss you this time it’s simply because he can’t contain himself.

He never thought he’d be the sort of man to fall in love. How wrong he was. And every day you remind him that your love does not come with conditions. It is given freely. It is freely given because you saw the goodness in him.

Warm affection spreads through him as he slowly presses his head against your entrance and sheathes himself in you. Your hands slide up his back, beneath his night shirt, and dig into skin to anchor yourself to him. Once he’d have minded you touching the scars, now he barely even feels them. They’re a piece of the old Astarion. The new one cares only for the here and now.

He gives you a moment to adjust to him before he begins to move. The only giveaway of your activity is the soft sound of sliding sheets as he presses deep inside, hitting that oh-so-sweet spot. You pull back and bare your neck, giving him a silent invitation with a wink.

Astarion needs no prompting. His bite is sweet, as gentle as it can be - he feels your throat swallow and cunt clench around him as he breaks skin. You buck upwards as he drinks from you, and from the way your chest hitches against his own, he knows it will not be long before you reach your breaking point. Truth be told, he’s the same. There’s something about the… intimacy of this all that gets to him. Sex for love. He could get used to it.

A couple more thrusts are all that’s needed. He releases inside of you and the feeling of his seed is all that’s needed to push you over the edge. Your teeth press down into his shoulder to muffle yourself - he grins at that - and the two of you catch your breath, still locked in an intimate embrace.

He kisses you again. He knows he should go back to his own bed. The two of you will face no small amount of teasing if you’re caught together in the morning - but when you wipe the hair from his face and pull him into your embrace, he simply can’t bring himself to leave your arms.

You are his home. His heart. And as you fall asleep cuddled up against him, he know he’d never change this for the world.

#astarion x reader #astarion imagine #tav x astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fic #bg3 fic

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sinkovia · 4 months

Text

Coffee Shop: VI

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.

Coffee shop Masterlist

Simon, having finished his workout earlier than usual, decided to break his routine and head to the coffee shop a few minutes ahead of his typical schedule. As he approached the entrance, he spotted the man who had asked you for your number the day before. Simon took a deep breath and increased his pace, striding purposefully towards the door with larger steps.

“C'mon, doll face, what’s the real reason you didn’t call me?”

“I lost your number, I don’t know what happened to the napkin you gave me.” He took a step closer to you, and you backed into the table.

“I know you're lying. What is it, hm? Not attractive enough for you?” He grabbed your waist, trying to bring you closer, and you shoved him off you.

His hand lifted, and you put your hands up to block him from hitting you, but in one swift motion, Simon’s fist collided with the side of his face. Your eyes grew wide, and you took a step back.

Simon, fueled by a surge of protective instinct, straddled the man on the ground, gripping his collar and lifting him up. Another punch followed, blood spouting from the man's nose, prompting a shocked reaction from you. Concern etched across your face, you gently placed your hand on Simon's shoulder.

"Simon, please, you're going to kill him," Reluctantly, he got off the man, taking a deep breath. Simon then lifted the man off the ground and dragged him toward the cafe door.

"If I ever see you come here again or she tells me that you tried doing something to her while I wasn't around, I'll find out where you live and fucking kill you. You understand, mate?" The man nodded in terror as Simon opened the door and forcefully threw him out.

You approached Simon with a gentle stride, placing your hand on his arm as you brought his hand closer to your eyes. A small gasp escaped you as you noticed the slight cut on his knuckles, your eyes widening in concern.

"Take a seat, I’m going to grab the first aid kit," your worry evident. Simon, trying to reassure you, offered a slight smile. "I’m okay, love, no need to burden yourself."

"Simon, you have a cut on your knuckle, it could get infected," Anticipating his protest, you furrowed your brows, looking up at him with a soft plea.

"Simon, please," he felt a subtle skip in his heartbeat. He nodded in agreement, not just to let you tend to the cut but also to let you disappear into the back, giving him a moment to smile to himself.

Observing the small red cut, he marveled at how you were getting worked up over this minor injury.

The thought crossed his mind – what would you think if you saw the deep scars that adorned his body.

You returned to Simon with purpose, speed walking and taking a seat next to him. His hand was placed on the table in front of you, and you swiftly opened the small medical kit, retrieving peroxide and cotton balls.

Simon gazed down at you, a content smile playing on his lips. Your hands worked deftly as you soaked a cotton ball in alcohol and tapped it onto his cut. He hissed, and your eyes widened, immediately shifting to his face. To your surprise, he was smiling.

"You ass," you teased, and he laughed in response. You resumed your task, tapping the cut before applying cream and securing a bandage. Simon raised an eyebrow when he noticed the bandaid – white with small brown bears.

"Sorry, it's the only ones we had left," He smiled down at you before relaxing his gaze.

"Are you okay?" asking with genuine concern.

"Yeah, I'm okay. He didn't hurt me or anything," he simply nodded, and a smile adorned your face as you looked down at your hands.

"Thank you for protecting me... I don't know what would have happened if you weren't here," your eyes locked with Simon’s. There's a warmth in his gaze that makes you melt in the chair.

"No need to thank me, love. I wasn't just going to stand there and let him hurt you,"

You smile up at him, and the moment lingers for a few seconds, the two of you locked in a gaze that speaks volumes. The only thing that tears your gaze from his is the sound of your manager's voice from the back.

"I should go see what he wants. Do you want your regular?"

Simon smiles and nods, "please."

You grab the med kit and disappear into the back of the cafe. Simon looks down at his knuckle with the bandaid on it, lightly brushing his finger over it and smiling. The tenderness with which you cared for him resonates in his thoughts – the gentleness, the careful movements, as if you were tending to a fragile bird with a broken wing.

The moment was more than just about a cut on his knuckle; it was a silent acknowledgment of the care and connection growing between you two. Simon couldn't help but appreciate the emotional comfort that lingered even after you left.

His gaze shifted to the door, and a warm smile spread across his face when he spotted Elise. "There's the most gorgeous woman I know."

Elise turned, her own smile lighting up when she saw Simon. "Honey, you're back! Now, where have you been?" Simon rose from his seat and walked up to her, linking his arm with hers. Together, they made their way to his table.

"Overseas."

"Oh? A military man. Makes sense with these strong muscles," Elise remarked, lightly squeezing his arm, and Simon couldn't help but smile. They both took their seats, Simon across from Elise, who then noticed the book you had lent him.

"What are you reading now, honey?"

"Y/n lent me this book. I finished reading it a few days ago," Elise smiled and leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"When are you going to take her out, hmm? That girl is head over heels for you, Simon. She would not stop talking about you the entire time you were gone." Simon's smile grew, his heart fluttering and swelling in his chest at Elise's words. The realization that you had been talking about him in his absence brought a warmth that lingered throughout their conversation.

"Really, what did she say?" a curious eyebrow raised. Elise, however, merely smirked at him before getting up. "You'll have to ask her yourself." She strolled over to the register, and just as she did, you walked out, greeting her with a big smile and asking about her day.

After a few minutes of small talk and bidding farewell to Elise, you made Simon's tea and brought it over to him. "I'm sorry that took a while."

He handed you the money and smiled, "No worries, love. Was talking to Elise while you were out back." You took a seat across from him, your elbow propping your head up.

"Really? Did she offer to crochet you a beanie?" Simon smiled and shook his head slightly. "No, she didn't. She told me that you spoke about me while I was gone." Your smile faded into an awkward laugh as you mentally cursed out Elise for bringing up your conversations about Simon.

"Yeah, I was bored without you around," you admitted, looking away briefly before meeting Simon's gaze again.

"Missed my company, hmm?" Simon teased, a warm smile playing on his lips as he lifted the mug to his lips. You paused, holding his gaze for a moment before answering.

"Yeah, I did," you confessed, feeling a hint of embarrassment. Your eyes dropped to your hands, but Simon, sensing your vulnerability, put his cup down on the table and leaned towards you.

"When I was overseas, the tea at the base tasted like burnt nuclear waste. I couldn't wait to come back home," your face brightened as you looked up at him. A warm smile spread across your face.

"I'm glad you had something to look forward to," you said sincerely.

Simon's return had brought back more than just the familiar taste of home – it had brought a warmth and joy that you both cherished in each other's company.

During your break, you sat with Simon, and for the first time, you heard him ramble about something - specifically, the book you had lent him. Engrossed in conversation, you both talked about the ending of the book, and you learned that Simon’s favorite character was Joel Miller.

As you returned to work, Simon found moments to share jokes with you while you were behind the register. The sound of your laughter made his heart swell, and in those moments, he felt a lightness he hadn't known before.

As the familiar beep of his watch signaled the end of his time with you, you turned toward him, "Heading out?"

Simon looked at the time on his watch before meeting your gaze. He stood up and replied, "No, I think I'll stay for a bit longer."

"No plans tonight?" you asked with a warm smile as you wiped down the counter. "Don't ever really have plans, I stay home most of the day," You hummed in understanding, your gaze meeting his.

"Want to try something else off the menu?" Simon's gaze lingered on you for a few seconds before he looked up at the menu displayed above you.

"Do you make coffee as good as tea?" Simon asked, a small smile playing on his lips as he leaned against the counter. You reciprocated with a confident grin.

"Of course, I do."

"Could I get a latte and a croissant?"

"Yeah, that will be 6.50."

After Simon paid, you prepared his order and set it on a tray in front of him. As he took a sip of his latte, he couldn't help but relish in how good it tasted. Despite not being much of a coffee guy, he could certainly become one if every cup tasted like this.

However, his enjoyment was interrupted when he noticed a car parking across the street. After five minutes of no one exiting the vehicle, he subtly glanced over. A sigh escaped him when he realized it was the man's car from earlier.

Questions raced through his mind. Why hadn't the man come inside? Was he waiting for him to leave to approach you? Or perhaps, was he waiting for you to finish work?

All these possibilities raced through Simon's mind, but one thing was certain. He wouldn't leave until he knew you were safe. Glancing at his watch, he noted that he had been there for around two hours already. He then looked at you, handing the next customer their order before they took a seat at the back of the cafe with their child.

"When do you get off of work, love?" Simon’s eyes glanced at the clock before returning to you.

"In about thirty minutes," Simon hummed thoughtfully, taking another sip of his drink. He turned his head to check if his car was still parked across the street, confirming that it was. The looming possibility that the man from earlier might try something when you got off work lingered in his mind.

As you wiped down the counter, the older woman who works the shift after you walked through the door. You engaged in a brief conversation with her before walking over to Simon.

"Are my lattes any good?" he was finishing the last bit of his croissant when you asked.

"Ten out of ten, love. You know your way around a good cup," you smiled proudly at him and Simon leaned foward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table.

"Don't look now, but the man from earlier, he's parked across the street," Your eyes grew a little wide, and you pulled out a chair, taking a seat across from him.

"How long has he been there?" you asked, a hint of worry in your voice.

Simon glanced at his clock and then back at you. "Ten, fifteen minutes." Your gaze went down to your hands, taking a deep breath before checking the clock.

"My shift ends in ten minutes," you muttered, glancing out through the window, noticing the car and the sun setting. "It's getting dark out too."

"Do you have a safe way home?" Simon sipped the last bit of coffee in his mug. You sighed and shook your head.

"I usually walk to work and back home." You pulled out your phone and opened the Uber app.

"I can just Uber home."

Simon almost let you do it, but the thought of the man possibly following the Uber car and attacking you at your door made him speak without thinking.

"I could walk you home." You looked up from your phone, eyebrows raised, and smiled, shaking your head.

"No, it's okay. I don't want to burden you with something like that."

"I don't mind, love. Wouldn't feel right if I didn't make sure you got home safe. Him coming back could be my fault; I did rough him up."

"You really think he’d try something?" Simon stood up from his chair.

"Wouldn't doubt it from a man like him. Probably should have punched him a few more times," he said, smiling down at you. You smiled back, shaking your head, appreciating the protective concern in Simon's eyes.

"The walk is about ten minutes, is that okay?" you asked, getting up from the chair and heading towards the door, with Simon following behind you.

"What direction?" as you both stepped out of the cafe you pointed towards the direction where Simon lives.

"Works out; I live in this direction too," You wrapped your coat around you tighter, feeling a chilly breeze against you.

"I'm glad," you quietly muttered out.

Simon smiled, looking down at you. "Glad it works out, or glad I live in this direction?"

You awkwardly looked away, berating yourself for not watching how you worded things. "Glad that it works out. I would feel bad if I made you walk far,"

"Good exercise," he remarked.

"Optimistic."

"Rarely."

You smiled, a subtle warmth in your gaze, and looked up at Simon for a few seconds before glancing away.

"Something on my face?" he asked.

"No," your smile lingering.

"Hm,"

He looked to his side, his face no longer in your view, and a small smile played on his lips. An unfamiliar sensation stirred deep in his stomach. It almost felt like his stomach was lifting. Was this what people meant when they say they have butterflies?

As you both walked, every few steps, your arms would occasionally brush against each other, and Simon found himself instinctively gravitating toward you.

“So, how was your day?” you quietly asked, genuine curiosity in your eyes.

“Same old, you know.”

“Oh, really? Mine was, um, pretty good. I found this cute dog on the internet. Almost wanted to adopt him.”

“Why didn't you?”

You shrugged, a thoughtful expression on your face. “I have a cat, and I don't know how she would respond to a dog in the house.” Simon hummed, nodding his head in understanding.

“Do you like dogs?”

Simon had been thinking about adopting a dog to put into the K-9 training unit so he could start taking them on missions with him. However he never really got around to the adoption process.

"Yeah, dogs are alright. Been thinking about getting one."

Excitement lit up your eyes, "Oh! Maybe I could write down the adoption website for you?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I could check it out."

Simon glanced to his side as they passed by his house. Should he tell you where he lived? Since a man was potentially stalking you, it would probably be good if you knew where he lived for safety reasons, right?

“This is where I live,” Simon motioned to his house as you walked by. Your response was a casual hum, “When I overbake, I know who I'll give my extras to.”

A genuine smile adorned Simon's face as he looked down at you, and you continued your walk in a serene, comfortable silence. Despite the outward calm, Simon's thoughts churned in turmoil. The encounter with the man lingered in his mind, prompting questions about your well-being.

As the quiet street stretched before you, Simon's mind played out scenarios of the man taking more intrusive actions. What if he decided to break into your house? What if he caught you during your walk to work tomorrow? He glanced at his watch to check the day, and he internally sighed, realizing tomorrow was Saturday, and you don't work weekends.

It would still be good to have your number for safety reasons and safety reasons only. It's not like Simon wanted to talk about books with you or hear from you on the days you didn't work. Of course not, safety only.

Before he knew it, you slowed down and turned to him, pointing towards your house, "This is where I live." Simon's eyes roved over the vibrant array of colorful flowers in your front yard and the well-tended plants near your front door.

"Green thumb?" he asked with a teasing smile.

You laughed and nodded, "The greenest."

"Thank you for walking me home; I really appreciate you doing this,"

Now or never Simon.

Seizing the moment, Simon steeled himself. "No need to thank me, love… I did want to ask... if-"

Despite being a seasoned killer, a special ops soldier, and a lieutenant for Task Force 141, Simon found himself unexpectedly grappling with nerves as he attempted to ask for your number.

"Just... wondering if, you know, for safety reasons, I could have your number." he finally managed to articulate, his words carrying a hint of vulnerability.

A playful grin played on your face. "Safety reasons, huh?"

Simon scratched the back of his head, avoiding direct eye contact. "Well, you never know what that man will try. I only live a few houses down; I'd get to you quicker than if you called the police."

Your heart warmed, and you couldn't help but smile, finding Simon's awkwardness endearing. "Alright, for safety reasons then,"

Simon retrieved his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. As you navigated through his contacts app, a momentary surprise flashed across your face when you noticed he only had three contacts. Undeterred, you swiftly added your number to his phone and handed it back to him.

“I'll text you a link for that adoption website,” Simon nodded, tucking his phone into his jacket pocket.

You started walking up the little path to your front door, turning towards him with a genuine smile. “Thank you again for walking me home, Simon.”

“Of course,” his tone warm and reassuring.

When you unlocked your door, you turned back to him and waved, “Walk home safe.” Simon nodded, reciprocating the gesture, and you walked into your house, locking the door behind you. A smile that was almost too wide for your face lingered as Simon retraced his steps home. Pulling his phone out, he smiled when he saw your name now in his contacts.

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sxcret-garden · 4 months

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Mingi ღ NSFW Alphabet [M]

ღ Ateez - NSFW Alphabets ღ Ateez Mingi x gn!reader ღ words: ~3.1k ღ genre: smut ღ warnings: none

A = Aftercare (what he’s like after sex)

Will do his best to do aftercare for you, but I think it’ll usually be you taking care of him afterwards. He tends to really wear himself out, especially when you’re going at it for a longer time. However, he’ll also usually be in a very cuddly mood afterwards, so after you’ve gotten yourselves some water and cleaned yourselves up, he will welcome you into his arms and hold you tight. Places soft kisses in any spots where he might’ve been rough with you, and will let his fingertips draw mindless patterns all over you. To be honest he could stay like this for hours, but eventually he will either allow the two of you to drift off to sleep, or let yourselves get on with your days.

B = Body part (his favorite body part of his partner)

The little details! He strikes me as someone who will be fascinated by your shape and definitely takes his time to worship you too, so in general he makes sure you can feel how much he loves your body overall. But he will pay especially much attention to moles, birthmarks, scars, and the likes. Likes to study the placement of each as his hands and lips are mapping out your body, and eventually he will remember their exact spots even when you’re fully dressed.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

Really doesn’t mind much where he cums, and strikes me as the type where things might get a little messy. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a favourite place to cum. Loves it when you suck him off and let him cum in your mouth, will visibly gulp at the sight if you swallow. Idk what it is, but he just can’t look away from the image of you taking his load at once - especially if there’s some stains on your lips or chin afterwards.

D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret or secret desire of his)

A secret desire that keeps popping up in his head is the thought of you sucking him off with his or your friends in the other room. Something about having to keep quiet and at the same time having to hurry so you won’t get caught is just very hot to him, but this is probably something that’s more of a fantasy he has, and not something he absolutely wants to turn into a reality. If it happens - great! If not - also fine by him.

E = Experience (how experienced is he?)

This is a tough one because the answer could literally be anything. What I think is that he’s slow at gathering experience first, and probably the type to exclusively sleep with a partner, because he really needs a certain level of trust to have sex with someone. But I also think he’s actually pretty dirty deep down, and so once he starts getting some experience, he’ll quickly gain some more. So I’d say he has his fair share of experience!

F = Favorite position

You on top of him! Strikes me as an ass-enjoyer, so depending on his mood he wants you simply riding him while facing him, or facing away in reverse cowgirl. Loves it when you’re on top of him and you set the pace while he can marvel at the sight in front of him and let his hands wander your body. What he also likes about this position is that it’s easy for him to control how much power you have, and if he feels like it he’ll simply grab onto your hips to guide you into the rhythm he wants.

G = Goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous?)

Shy during his first sexual encounters with a new partner, so he will feel thankful if they’re a light-hearted person and don’t take things too seriously. If you laugh, he will laugh along! But after getting familiar with each other his burning passion will take over and there often won’t be much time to laugh in between fucking each other real good.

H = Headspace (how much does he think about it/you during the day? how elaborate are his fantasies?)

Whether he wants it or not, sexual thoughts will randomly pop up in his head throughout the day. Usually it really is just a thought that floats by and is soon forgotten, but especially when he’s just started getting intimate with someone these thoughts can be rather distracting. Has pretty elaborate fantasies when he gets off by himself, but otherwise keeps it at a level that won’t give him a visible boner in public dksjfklasdjfa

I = Intimacy (how passionate or romantic is he?)

He can be very romantic!! He’s definitely the type of person to want to just make sweet love to his partner every now and then, and though he can be a bit clumsy, the way he touches you and talks to you during will make your heart soar. He’s so sweet and will take his time with you, exploring your body as if it was the first time, and watching as he has his breath taken away by how beautiful he thinks you are makes you fall in love with him all over again. However, I’m convinced there’s also a not so soft side to him, and when that comes out his touches feel like fire burning your skin. He’s full of need at times like these, in a way where he manages to sweep you off your feet effortlessly.

J = Jack off (how does he masturbate and how often?)

Likes to deliberately take time out of his days to get off. Like he will pick a day and then plan for a few hours of “me-time” in the evening and get really into the mood as he lets his hands wander and take care of himself. Might turn on some music and let his mind get to work, might watch porn to get him going, but his favourite thing to accompany his masturbation sessions are voice mails by his partner. Loves simply hearing your voice moaning into his ears as you’re getting off yourself, but he’d also be very curious to try guided masturbation if you’re open to that!

K = Kink (one of his kinks)

I’m gonna go nice and simple with this and say biting! He undoubtedly has a bit of a thing for pain (or maybe more than a bit, who knows…) and so you sinking your teeth into his skin just gets him going. Loves the feeling of the pain mixing in with the pleasure and goes absolutely crazy if you bite down real hard as your own pleasure is overwhelming you. He will let out a pained noise, but don’t be mistaken - he’s totally into this and he could cum from that alone. Will wear your bite marks like a medal and as proof of just how good he can make you feel, but at the same time they serve as a reminder of how good you can make him feel too. He’s more than happy to return the favour if you’re into that too, though he tends to be more careful with his partner than the other way around.

L = Location (favorite places to do it)

The comfort of his or your home is still his nr 1 spot to do it. It’s just where he feels safest to be completely himself and to lose himself in the act, but if the situation is dire he’ll also opt for a less private space. Semi-public is totally okay for him sometimes, and especially when he’s really horny he doesn’t worry about being caught too much. But overall I’d say at home, in the comfort of your or his bedroom is his best choice.

M = Motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

He’s so easily turned on (and has also become pretty good at hiding it if the time or place aren’t appropriate) that at times it’s enough for him to catch a glimpse of you and his mind will already spew ideas at him about what he wants to do with you. While having sex what especially motivates him to keep going are definitely your moans, but aside from what I wrote about biting earlier, it’s also the way you cling to him desperately, let your nails run down his bare back, etcetc. But it’s also your praises, when you tell him what a good boy he is for you, and sometimes also your teasing, prompting him to do more, to impress you, to earn your touch.

N = No (something he wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Stuff like humiliation and degradation are a bit difficult for him. Being on the receiving end is okay for him, so long as his partner doesn’t take it too far. Will definitely get off on you degrading him a bit at the right time, but if you do it too much this will quickly make him actually feel bad. However, he would never do that to you, he just can’t bring himself to. He can tease you sometimes, that much is fine, but he can’t bring himself to humiliate or degrade his partner. Maybe if you’re super into it he’ll eventually give it a try, but it’s still not his favourite thing to do to you ever.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves both, but prefers receiving head over giving. Definitely the type to grab your hair (if possible) and to control the pace as he fucks your mouth and gets really into it to the point you might feel the need to slow him down a bit. He likes it when things get messy, so if you give him permission he will sometimes pull out just in time to cum all over your face.

Though he prefers receiving, he certainly gets very into it when it’s his turn to do oral on you. Once he gets a literal taste of you he could spend hours just giving you head, and you bet that even if he wasn’t so skilled at first, he’ll know just how to sweep you off your feet in no time.

P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He definitely has his slow and sensual moments where he’s having sex with you less as a way to chase pleasure, and more as a means to make you feel just how much he loves you. However, I think usually when he’s the one setting the pace he’d be impatient and his desire for you would translate into touches on the rougher side. Whether that’s manhandling you a bit and grabbing you with a bit too much force, or if it’s him deliberately sinking his nails into your flesh, he’s INTENSE to say the least. Will fuck you especially rough in the chase of his own orgasm, and if you let him know it’s something that you enjoy as well, he’ll definitely stop holding back completely.

Q = Quickie (his opinions on quickies?)

Quickies are way too short for him, but that doesn’t mean he can resist the temptation. Especially when you two are out somewhere and you keep teasing each other and riling each other up, unnoticed by everyone else in the room, it’s very likely that he will eventually grab you by the wrist and drag you out of there and into a room where you can be by yourselves. The need and the urgency behind the way he gets your clothes out of the way just enough for him to slip inside you is already driving you crazy, and with how desperately he’s racing towards his release while doing everything he can think of to have you reach your high just as fast, there’s really no way either of you is going to last long.

R = Risk (does he like to experiment or take risks?)

He’s a bit hesitant with introducing new things to the bedroom, both from his side and if his partner brings up something that they want to try, especially if it’s something he’s not super familiar with. However, after talking it through he’s very likely to be willing to at least try, and a lot of the time when you have an idea on what you could both like, he ends up very much enjoying it.

He definitely is a risk-taker as in… not always thinking of wearing a condom. He might sulk a bit if you tell him you’re definitely not having unprotected sex with him, but he’ll understand jfkdsfjlajksflsa but also the sight of his cum dripping out of you is just too damn hot to him, and he may or may not feel the need to give you yet another orgasm as your and his taste are mixing on his tongue…

S = Stamina (how long does he last?)

When he really gets into it, he cums fairly quickly, but he recovers just as fast. Will definitely be able to manage his energies to last several rounds, the problem is just that he tends to forget to manage anything when he’s balls deep inside you and you’re both chasing your high jasdkfljsas. But with a bit of assistance and some reminders by you, this guy can definitely keep going for A WHILE.

T = Toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

Pretty sure he has toys to use on himself for when he’s masturbating, and he also won’t be opposed to sometimes using toys with a partner. Will be all for using vibrators or dildos on you, and might actually get you one he finds pretty and then watches you getting off with it. He also likes seeing you wearing stuff like anal plugs, and goes absolutely crazy if you have piercings down there.

U = Unfair (how much he likes to tease)

He’s very straightforward with what he wants and certainly not a big tease about it. Though sometimes it can be fun to push your buttons a little, he enjoys it more if he’s on the receiving end of the teasing. He’ll play along so well if you keep giving him just the bare minimum, and at the same time he will let you know just how frustrated it’s making him. And this can go two ways - either he becomes really whiny and lets you do to him whatever you want, or his patience will eventually run out and he’s going to take matters into his own hands. Depending on how much teasing he’s endured prior, he tends to get very rough with you, and he knows that, so he’ll make sure to talk this through with you beforehand to make sure he doesn’t do anything you don’t want.

V = Volume (how loud or vocal is he? what does he sound like?)

Very vocal and very loud. Though he will die of embarrassment if it turns out anyone heard you two, he couldn’t care less in the moment. Will tell you exactly what he’s thinking at any given point, including praises, what he wishes you would do to him, or what he wants to do to you. And this ranges from begging for you and making the most shameless noises as you’re on top of him, having your way with him, to growling in your ear how much he needs you and how good it feels to be inside of you when he’s taking the lead.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

Mingi lets out a desperate groan as he finally releases inside of you, filling you up with his seed. His motions come to a halt, there’s a drop of sweat making its way down his forehead, and his eyes are squeezed shut as he’s trying to catch his breath. You reach out to comb your fingers through his hair, and then eventually he begins to move on top of you. He pulls out as he sits up, spreading your legs that have been wrapped around his waist apart to get a good look at how his cum is dripping out of you slowly. You can hear him mouth a curse word, before he leans in, but then stops himself.

“Can I?” he asks, his face hovering above your core, his hot breath grazing your skin causing shivers to run down your spine. You merely nod, even though you only half expected him to bury his face between your legs, tongue immediately reaching deep into your hole. You cry out at the sensation, and your legs begin to tremble as he hums at the way your taste mixes with his own in his mouth, as he works you right towards your next orgasm.

X = (X) as a mark (does he like marking you/being marked? where?)

Likes to leave his mark on you anywhere he can reach when he’s in the heat of the moment. Might even forget about being careful around spots where it might be hard to cover, but will move on to a different spot right away if you tell him to. Marking you as his is just something he needs to do every now and then - while he might not be super possessive he does like showing you just who you belong to, and vice versa as well. Will moan instantly when your teeth graze his skin, and the sensation of you marking him is just gonna make him need you even more.

Y = Yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

High. Very high actually, but he’s very much content to take care of it himself from time to time too if your sex drive doesn’t match his. I’m convinced that not only is he a very sexual person deep inside, but he’s also pretty dirty-minded, and so it’s only natural that the need for sex would arise quite often - especially when he’s dating someone and he just can’t keep his thoughts about you safe for work. And while this does result in some pretty amazing sex due to the fact that you’re gonna learn about each other’s turn ons very quickly, he’ll also be understanding if you don’t want to have sex quite as often as he does.

Z = Zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterwards)

Seems like he’d fall asleep fast but unless he’s super tired to begin with I don’t think so. Quite the opposite actually - you might end up staying up for another hour or two because of him, just talking about whatever comes to mind. In moments like these, after you’ve been intimate, he feels very strongly that he can talk to you even about the things he usually keeps hidden deep inside, so a heartfelt talk afterwards is something that does happen with him from time to time.

#ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #mingi smut #mingi imagines #mingi x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez reactions #smut

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imloyaltoscoups · 1 month

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i'm ready | yoon jeonghan

After seven long years, you finally find yourself in a place of true peace and contentment. The journey to this point hasn't been easy - the scars of heartbreak and betrayal ran deep, and it took time to heal and rebuild yourself.

But you did it. You persevered through the nightmares, finding strength in your own resilience and determination. With each passing day, you focused on your own growth and development, pouring your energy into your studies and your personal pursuits.

Completing your PhD was a milestone, a testament to your dedication and perseverance. It wasn't just an academic achievement: it was a symbol of your triumph over adversity, a tangible reminder of how far you've come since the pain of your past.

Along the way, you learned valuable lessons about self-love and self-care. You realized the importance of prioritizing your own needs and desires, of carving out space for yourself in a world that often demands so much of us.

The first years were undoubtedly the hardest. You struggled to find your footing, grappling with the weight of your emotions and the uncertainty of starting over. You were cautious with those who approached, wary of opening yourself up to the possibility of hurt once again.

But with time, you learned to trust yourself again. You rediscovered your worth and your strength, and you refused to let the pain of your past define you. You learned to allocate love and care for yourself, recognizing that you are deserving of the same kindness and compassion that you so freely gave to others.

You pause mid-packing, taken aback by your friend's unexpected enthusiasm. They shake the ticket with excitement, their smile infectious despite your initial reluctance.

"Y/N!!! We're going to Koreaaaa!" they exclaim, their voice filled with enthusiasm.

You hesitate, the memories of your past trip to Korea still lingering in the corners of your mind. The thought of returning to the place where so much heartache had occurred fills you with a sense of apprehension.

But before you can voice your concerns, your friend speaks up again, their tone resolute. "You're okay now, right? So it's okay to visit that country again. And besides, who knows when we'll have the chance to see our friends first ever exhibit. If you're worried of bumping with that piece of shit. Don't worry—I'll give him a piece of my mind. Maybe even a punch and a chokeslam for good measure!... I should have been with you when you went there" she pouted.

Their words catch you off guard, but you can't help but laugh at their fierce loyalty. Despite your reservations, their unwavering support gives you a glimmer of courage.

"Alright," you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "This is for our girl."

With a newfound sense of determination, you resume packing, knowing that this trip will be different from the last. Armed with the support of your friend and the strength you've gained from overcoming your past, you're ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. And who knows? Maybe this time, Korea will hold new memories of joy and adventure, rather than pain and heartache.

As you arrive at the exhibit of your best friend, you're filled with a sense of pride and excitement. You rush forward and envelop her in a big hug, a smile spreading across your face.

"Congratulations queen, you did it!" you exclaim, squeezing her tightly. "I'm so proud of you for pursuing your dream of being an artist. Look at the crowd!"

She returns the hug with equal enthusiasm, her eyes shining with happiness. "Thank you so much! I couldn't have done it without you guys. You two kept on pushing me to do this and here we are."

She then shows you around the exhibit, pointing out each piece with pride, you can't help but marvel at her talent and creativity. Each painting tells a story, a reflection of her passion and dedication to her craft.

As you admire her work, she offers you two a glass of champagne, a gesture of celebration for this momentous occasion.

"Cheers to you and your incredible talent," you say, raising your glass in a toast. "May your art continue to inspire and captivate audiences around the world."

She clinks her glass against yours, a wide smile lighting up her face. "Thank you, and cheers to our friendship. I'm so grateful to have you two by my side."

Together, you three sip your champagne and continue to explore the exhibit, basking in the joy of this special moment shared between friends. And as you revel in the beauty of her art and the warmth of her friendship, you know that this is a memory you'll cherish for years to come.

Time pass by and your best friend excuses herself to greet other visitors, you nod understandingly, letting her immerse herself in the moment. Beside you, your other friend suddenly excuses herself to rushed off to the bathroom, leaving you alone amidst the bustling gallery.

As you scroll through the gallery, admiring the artwork, a familiar voice calls out your name. You turn around and are surprised to see Jeonghan standing there, holding a glass of champagne. To your own surprise, you feel no shock or hurt at his presence. Instead, you feel a sense of calm and resolution.

"Hi," he says, his voice tentative as he approaches you. "How are you?"

You offer him a small smile. "I'm doing better than ever," you reply confidently. "I got my PhD and now I'm planning on doing my residency."

Jeonghan's eyes light up with genuine pride. "That's amazing," he says, offering his congratulations. "I always knew you would achieve great things."

You exchange conversation for a while, catching up on each other's lives. Eventually, Jeonghan takes a deep breath and admits once again that he is truly sorry for the pain he caused in the past.

You nod, feeling a sense of closure wash over you. "I've forgiven you," you say simply.

His eyes widen with hope, and for a moment, you see the flicker of longing in his gaze. But before he can say anything else, a commotion interrupts the moment.

A little kid comes running towards you, calling you "mama." You glance down and see your baby boy, and you can't help but smile as you scoop him up into your arms.

"Where's Papa?" you ask, and just then, a voice responds—a man carrying your one-year-old daughter.

Jeonghan stands frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief as he takes in the sight of your family. You introduce your husband to him, and as you do, your baby boy innocently asks who the man you're talking to is.

"He's one of the singers mommy used to love," you reply gently, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

Jeonghan introduces himself to your family, his emotions held back as he struggles to maintain his composure. But as the moment stretches on, you can see the glass in his hand trembling, a silent testament to the storm of emotions raging within him.

"Mama, can we look for Tatie?" your baby boy asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

You smile down at him and give a nod. "Of course, sweetheart. Let's go find her," you reply, your heart swelling with love for your children.

Turning to Jeonghan, you offer a polite smile. "It was nice meeting you again," you say sincerely.

Your baby boy tugs at your hand, eager to leave. "Goodbye, Uncle!" he chirps before running off with your husband and daughter.

Jeonghan watches them go, his face a mixture of shock and sadness. You offer him a sympathetic smile before turning away to search for your best friend.

As you walk with your husband by your side, his arm wrapped around you protectively, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. You lean into him, grateful for his unwavering support and patience.

"Thank you for being so patient love," you murmur, pressing a quick peck to his cheek.

He smiles down at you, his eyes filled with warmth. "You're very brave, you know that," he says simply, his voice filled with admiration.

You feel a surge of gratitude for the life you've built together, for the love and happiness that surrounds you. And as you continue to search for your best friends, you realize that maybe visiting Korea isn't so bad after all, especially when you have your family by your side.

In that moment, you realize that the greatest revenge you can provide to Jeonghan is finding your own happiness without him. And as you find your own people who cherish and support you, you know that you've already won.

part 1, part 2

....... ≿━━━━༺JEONGHAN༻━━━━≾ .......

#seventeen fic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x you #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #svt oneshot #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan fanfic #yoon jeonghan x you #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x y/n #yoon jeonghan angst #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan imagines #jeonghan angst

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etfrin · 4 months

Text

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter fourteen | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Coriolanus Snow, Dr. Gaul, elitism | lmk if I forgot something

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 mistakes are made, apologies are given

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 chapter fourteen!!! Let's go baby <33 remember to give me your feedback

beta read by my 💘 @nowitsmissing

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The rest of the day was dull. Nothing new had happened in the games. Coriolanus made his way to his home. Tonight was the night of the gala. Tigris had informed that she had finished making his suit but didn't show him how it was. It was a surprise. All he knew was that it was approved by you.

He reached his penthouse. He is greeted by Tigris with a hug and a smile. Coriolanus smiles back at his cousin for good measure. Trying to hide his nervousness about attending this prestigious gala that could make or break Snow's reputation.

Tigris excitedly shows him the red tux she had designed for him. Coriolanus wears the suit, and can't take his eyes off himself in the mirror. He looked good, there's no doubt about it.

His cousin has magic in her eyes. He tells her so and watches her eyes brighten up. “Oh, Coryo,” she said, lovingly, “It's because it's you that it looks so good.” Snow doesn't argue.

“And what about her?” He asked, “Did you make her dress the same as mine?” Tigris won't even let him see the designs. He can only imagine his heart would stop beating when he sees you. He wondered if Tigris was fine with that.

“You'll know when you see her,” Tigris giggled.

He sighs in response.

Tigris also adds, “She's the reason we still have this place, Coryo. Be kind to her.”

Coriolanus furrows his eyes. What did Tigris mean? “What?” He asked, his tone sharp. Snow didn't need pity money. And you being the one giving him dollars was salt in the wound.

“The payment for the dresses…” Tigris begins to explain, “It's enough for this month's taxes and a few weeks of food.” Coriolanus' mouth dries, he had completely forgotten about the eviction note. With everything going on, he supposed that it was natural. But Tigris had taken the burden herself while he was no help.

“I am glad,” he mutters, feeling heavily indebted to you. He didn't like the feeling. He lets it linger in the corner of his mind. He says goodbye to grandma’am and Tigris. Then he was on his way to the presidential mansion. You had said that you'd meet him there.

He reaches the presidential mansion. The press surrounded the area with cameras. He swallows as he realizes every moment of his is being broadcast live. Much like when he was in the cage with Lucy Gray. He doesn't let the flashes bother him. He already knew his outfit would be the talk of the show and it was a great opportunity to let Tigris's name out there.

He feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around. That's it. He's dead. His heartbeat stopped. He forgot how to breathe.

There's no other way to explain his reaction to you.

His sun and moon. You looked marvelous. Enough so that his breath was knocked out of his chest. How did people speak again?

“Hello,” he gasps out, his cheeks burning. He ignored the urge to trace his soulmate's scar. He looks away from you, unable to meet your eyes. Too pretty. Too fucking pretty.

“Hi, Coryo,” you said, wrapping your arm around his. You both walk up to the stairs of the mansion. “Is everything alright?” You asked, a bit worried as he wasn't meeting your eyes.

“Fine,” he mutters.

You hum in response, turning back to the cameras. All waves and smiles. He forgets to do the same as he has eyes on you. He watches you like a lovesick puppy. Until it's time to enter the gala.

He doesn't let his anxious thoughts take over. He counts his breaths as he walks into the mansion. The gala was filled with people. Even higher-up district officials were invited. Several army officers with high standings and even the peacekeeper heads of each district were attending. There were also his classmates.

Clemensia Dovecote. Festus Creed.

They were all present. He could see the Plinth couple, but their son was missing. Quite the idiot to miss this opportunity. More for him, he supposed. He leaves you behind to greet his friends.

“Clemmie,” he grins.

“Well, hello, Coriolanus. It's nice to see your family finally has an invitation. It was about time,” she smiles.

Coriolanus doesn't correct her assumption. He doesn't tell her that he is here as your date. He didn't deem it necessary.

“Did you bring a date?” Festus Creed asked.

Coriolanus shrugged and said your name, he also added, “Well, she was available.” Festus raised an eyebrow at Coryo’s dismissive tone.

“What about the kiss in the auditorium? Several hearts were broken, Coriolanus,” Clemmie jokes.

Coryo bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to say something. But the fact you're District was surely fresh in his classmates’ minds. Telling them you're something to him wouldn't be much help with his goal for the gala. So, he shrugged, “Ah… well, we're all foolish sometimes.”

His classmates let it go. And he was glad.

Coriolanus seemed to completely forget about you as Clemmie and Festus introduced him to several elitists of the Capitol. People he can never meet through simple means. Coriolanus greets them, making small talk. Every time he mentions Lucy Gray, they're impressed. Even more so when they realize he's the reason that they can make such a contribution to the games.

In the conversation, Dr. Gaul joins. “Hello, Mr. Snow,” she greets him. She turns to the circle he was chatting up. The people were both in awe and afraid of Dr. Gaul. Just like him. She easily takes control of the conversation. Coriolanus does what he does best. Let the conversation flow in the favor of Dr. Gaul. He adds to the glory of the games and how it is necessary. He thanks the elitists for their funding.

From the gleam of approval in Dr. Gauls' eyes, Coriolanus felt proud like he never had before.

He wants to tell you about this immediately! He wanted you to be proud of him too. He had acquired several business cards by now. He had made an impression on everyone he talked to. If he won the Hunger Games, he wouldn't have to worry about university. After tonight, he won't have to worry after university is over either.

It was all because of you.

He feels dread in his mind when he can't see you anywhere on the floor. He finishes his drink, and excuses himself cordially from the conversation. He searches for you before he notices the stairwell leading to the roof. He decided to take the chance of finding you there.

He turned out to be lucky.

He finds you near the metal rails. You were leaning forward, your body facing the city lights. You looked like a part of the city view. He knew he had messed up as he walked closer to you. He left you alone the moment he could. A date wasn't supposed to do that. He knew that! But he was sure you would be understanding. He needed to take advantage of this night.

That's why you brought him here, right?

“Dove,” he said, taking your attention away from the view of the bustling nightlife.

“I see you're making connections, pup.”

“Pup?” he questioned, his tone turning wary.

“Of course, a pup. A pet wagging its tail to an owner who doesn't give a shit. Dr. Gaul, she treats you like an obedient dog baiting you with treats. For her you're disposable, a dog to put down when you'll bite her hand. And here you are in the gala I bought you too, kissing her ass in front of everyone as if they can't see through her bullshit.” You take a deep breath, trying to control yourself, “She sent you to death a day before, Coriolanus! If you're gonna continue to kiss her ass like a mindless pup wanting treats, by all means go ahead.”

Coriolanus takes a deep breath despite the fact he was offended; he didn't wanna fight with you. Coriolanus opens his mouth- he's interrupted by you before he can even begin speaking. You turned to face him. Your eyes glaring at him with anger.

“Not only that! You’re not disposable, Coryo. And I hate how people treat you that way. I am the only one who thinks that way. I am the one you left behind. You ran to Clemmie the moment you saw her and did you know what Festus Creed said to me? He said that I am here as your date and it's because I was available!”

“I have done so many things for you! From rigging the assignment of tributes to proposing the destruction of District thirteen. I have damned my morals for you! I would burn the world for you. And all I get is… this! It's fucking not worth it.”

You don't let Coriolanus speak a word. You tried to walk past him in a hurry but Coryo held your arm and pulled you back. He effortlessly pushes you onto the railing and traps you in.

“Don't talk to me that way,” Coriolanus said, his eyes blazing, his mind confused and his tone dark. “I know what I did was wrong. You should be understanding. What I am doing is for my future. I don't have the time to waste this night like you.” He doesn't bring up the mention of you rigging the tributes nor the nonsense of district thirteen. He will settle this first.

He continues, “What I was doing, it was to be expected. This was too good of an opportunity to let go of. Don't act stupid, dove. Act rationally.”

You scoff at his face and he feels his anger increasing. “Rationally? If you were rational, you would have waited for me to introduce you to the people. Do you know the power I carry, Coriolanus? Yet because of your prejudice against my background, you didn't use me to your advantage. I served myself to you on a silver platter and you left me to rot. Don't talk to me about rationality, love.”

“It's not because of your-” Coriolanus shuts his mouth when he sees tears falling down your cheeks. “Real or not?”

“Don't talk to me if you have to ask,” you sob.

He pulls you in his arms. He cages you, letting you ruin the suit with your tears. Due to the deep red fabric, the tear stains wouldn't be obvious. “I am sorry,” he whispered, genuinely.

He remembered your former words.

‘It's fucking not worth it.’

He tightened his hold around you, imprisoning you. He can't believe he messed this up this bad. The worst is it was his fault. He runs a hand through your hair, trying to calm you down. He whispers sweet nothings and apologies until the rise of your chest is steady.

“It's true. I have held prejudice against your background,” it felt wrong to admit this out loud. Coriolanus repeats, “I am sorry, dove.”

“You haven't been district for a long time and it's wrong for me to hold it against you. You're Capitol, not by blood but by deeds. It's more than enough.”

You pulled back, away from his arms. He mourns the loss in his mind, he wants to pull you in again immediately. You wipe your tears away. “I'll forgive you if you publicize our romance today.”

His eyes widened in shock. He wants to yell no! But then he remembered, ‘It's fucking not worth it.’ He takes a shaky breath, steeling his mind. He can't eat his words now. “Fine, sweetheart. You can tell the public Coriolanus Snow is yours and that you are mine.”

The smile you give him reminds him of a fox. He vaguely feels like he has fallen into a trap he can't get out of. Webs after web, he can't even imagine. He shakes himself clear of these thoughts.

You held out your hand, “Then come on Coriolanus Snow, my partner let me introduce you to some people who will like you very very much.”

He takes it. In his mind, he knows he has to ask you about the rigging and about the district that ruined his life.

He dreads it.

NEXT PART

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