#trying to get better about listening to that voice instead of ignoring it

[hellcat8908]

Come Home Poly Batboys x Female Reader

Note: This is part 2 of Let Her Go

Warnings: Language

Over the last few weeks, the letters from Azriel and Cassian had piled up in a basket by the door. They sat unopened and ignored as you gave yourself the time to process the events of that night. It was no surprise that Azriel had learned where you were living, not that you were trying to hide anyway. The gossip around you and your mates had only worsened since you left. You first tried therapy, but they only seemed to be interested in details about your mates and not what you needed to work through, so you quickly gave up. Instead, you turned to journaling as a way to get your emotions and thoughts out and somewhat organized.

You currently sat in your favorite chair with your journal in your lap as you wrote out your feelings for the day. A series of harsh knocks disrupted you, causing you to leave your journal on the end table. You were surprised to see Rhys standing at your doorstep. You're tempted to slam the door in his face, but think better of it. "What are you doing here?" You ask cautiously. "I want to talk to you." He says, his voice sounding rough. "We have nothing to talk about." You answer. "I think we both know that's not true. Please, y/n." He says with a certain sadness.

"You said everything you needed to say that night. You made it clear where I stand with you." You say as his words come flooding back to your mind. You move to shut the door, but he stops it with his foot. "Please, I'm only asking for a few minutes of your time and for you to listen." He says pleadingly. Your anger rises at his words. "Only asking for a few minutes of my time and for me to listen?! No, you're asking for so much more than that. You're asking for me to relive the worst night of my life. You're asking me to let you in and open wounds that's that haven't had a proper chance to heal because I'm drowning in it. I have no one to talk to while the three of you have each other. So, no, you're not only asking for my time and for me to listen!"

He at least has the decency to look apologetic. "I'm sorry. I didn't think-" he starts to say, but you interrupt him. "That's the problem, you don't think, especially when it comes to me. You only think about yourself and your court. You're an amazing high lord but a terrible mate." You say as you let the anger take over. "I think it's best if you leave." You tell him. "I'm sorry." He says brokenly as he turns away. Once the door shuts behind you, you crumple to the floor, allowing the pain and anger to consume you as you fall apart. You let all the hurt and anger flood the bond so they might finally realize what they've put you through.

You manage to force yourself out of bed two days later. You make breakfast before grabbing the paper from the doorstep. Your eyes widen at the headline. You throw on some clothes and quickly braid your hair before making your way into Velaris. You don't bother knocking and let yourself in. You practically run to Rhys's office where you find him along with Cassian and Azriel. They stare at you in surprise. "What do you think you're doing?!" You demand as you focus your attention on Rhys. "What needed to be done." He says. "No! You stepping down as high lord is the worst thing you could do for this court!" You respond angrily.

"But the best thing I could do for us! You're tired of coming second to my court. Well, this is the solution." He replies. "It's not the solution! It's you overreacting!" You shout. "You're not stepping down as high lord! If you do, I will disappear without a trace, and you will never see me again!" You shout. "There is just no winning with you. Is there?! No matter what I do, it isn't right!" Rhys shouts. "Why does everything have to be so black and white with you?! All I wanted was for you to respect my feelings and stop treating me as anything less than your mate!" You shout before you feel the warmth of Cassian's arm as he pulls you from the room while Azriel stops Rhys from following.

Cassian carries you to the bedroom and blocks the door before sitting you down. "What the hell, Cass?!" You ask. "You tell me!" He says as he crosses his arms. "What is it going to take for you to forgive us?!" He asks angrily as he runs his fingers through his hair. He doesn't give you a chance to answer, "Those months of silence you're punishing us for are bullshit. You didn't speak up either. You never once addressed it with us or the ones gossiping. We just assumed you were ignoring it like the rest of us. You share just as much blame in this as we do." He says before storming out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You sit on the oversized bed you all once shared. You run your fingers over the comforter. You curl up in the bed and allow a few tears to escape. You hold the pillow that smells of Azriel as you find comfort in it. You think about what Cassian said as you lay in silence. You zone out until a knock pulls you back to reality. Azriel opens the door, "is it ok if I come in?" He asks. He takes your silence as a yes and sits on the bed beside you. "Did you come to yell at me too?" You ask. "No, I brought you some tea and a muffin from your favorite bakery." He says.

"How did everything get so bad?" You ask, ignoring his offer. "A lot of things went left unsaid from all of us until it spiraled into something toxic." He says honestly. "Think we can ever get back to the way it was?" You ask. "Do you want to?" He questions in response. "I want it to be better." You answer honestly, "but I'm worried we won't be able to move past this." His shadows gently play with your hair, causing you to visibly relax. "All we can do is try." He says softly. "They hate me so much, though." You say as you choke back a sob. He wraps his arms around you, "Nobody hates you, princess. We all just need to calm down and discuss what needs to change moving forward." He says, always being the voice of reason to you.

#acotar #batboys #acotar fanfic #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #rhysand acotar #rhysand x reader #poly batboys #acotar angst

[lizstiel]

Dean’s sitting at the kitchen table eating meatloaf when it all sort of hits – and he’s desperate to remember it exactly how it happened.

With his fork raised halfway to his mouth, a dollop of meat and sauce perched precariously on the tines, his eyes wandered over to where Cas stood by the sink in a pair of ratty pajama bottoms and one of Dean’s old t-shirts. (One of Dean’s old t-shirts, because once Cas gets his shoulders into them they never really sit the same way.)

He’s got soap up to his elbows, scrubbing methodically at the dishes Dean just dirtied, his brow a taught, concentrated line. He’s bringing the same kind of meticulous focus to the dishes that he used to bring to leading the armies of Heaven; that singular kind of attention, both unnerving and admirable. (Dean had once tried to explain that he didn’t need to wash them quite so vigorously, to which Cas had deadpanned, “Do you know how many food particles remain on the dishes you wash, Dean?” It quickly became his job, after that.)

It’s early July. About 6:30pm. The window over the sink is cracked, and the front door is wide open, letting the sound of cicadas and crickets drift in with the summer breeze. The sun’s starting to set behind the field, casting the world in that particular orange glow that has always made something in Dean ache. In the other room, the record player Sam got them for Christmas plays a beat up Janis Joplin record he’d found at a secondhand store in town. The opening chords of Me and Bobby McGee have just started, and the cicadas are humming, and the crickets are singing, and the sun is setting, and Cas is standing in old pajamas washing dishes Dean just used to make them dinner and –

Cas tilts his head.

This isn’t revolutionary. He does it a lot. A very ingrained behavior, some might say. But he isn’t confused, he’s reacting. To the song. He doesn’t react to music the way Dean wants him to, never has, but in his own way, it’s almost like he’s leaning closer to hear it. An infinitesimal thing. The smallest gesture. The corner of his mouth twitches, and Dean has never loved him more than he does at this moment: backlit by a summer sunset in their house in the middle of nowhere, hand washing dishes and listening to Janis Joplin.

Cas turns when the sound of Dean’s fork clattering on the plate sounds, but Dean just scoops him into his arms, chases any worries away with a kiss, and then another, and then one more for good measure. Cas laughs against his mouth, desperately trying to keep his soapy arms away from Dean’s dry clothes. “Dean,” he chides, squirming and chuckling, trying to extract himself from Dean’s grip. “I’m not finished.”

“I’ll get ‘em tomorrow,” Dean promises, peppering sweet little kisses down the line of Cas' throat. He hasn’t shaved in a couple of days. It tickles all the way down. “Love you so much,” he says, because he wants to. Because he’s so full with it he’s overflowing. Because if he doesn’t tell him right now, in this moment, and every moment after this one, he might die. He needs him to know. It’s vital that he knows.

Cas’ laughter warms, and he slides one soapy hand to the back of Dean’s neck, eyebrows raised in challenge when he shudders at the sensation. When Dean doesn’t immediately shoo him away, he slides the other soapy hand up Dean’s arm. “Dean?” He’s not worried, the timber of his voice is honey-smooth and light, but he’s confused. Not that Dean doesn’t tell him often, and loudly, how much he loves him, but to be fair this did kind of come from nowhere, so he understands. It’s just much too much. It’s not enough and it’s everything. It’s everything in the world Dean has ever wanted.

Janis Joplin is singing freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose, and Dean’s arms are loose around Cas’ waist, and he loves him, god he loves him so much, so he kisses him on one corner of the mouth, and then the other. Janis says, nothin’, don’t mean nothin’ hon’ if it ain’t free, no, no – and he rocks their bodies together, slow, to the beat of the music. Cas’ arms come to wind around his neck automatically, and his smile starts to sprawl into something reserved for only the really good moments. Wide and gummy and for Dean – and feelin’ good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues. He presses his forehead to Cas’ and they just sort of sway there like that, smiling at each other like this might be the last chance they ever get.

Cas says – “I love you, Dean,” just as Janis is singing, you know feelin’ good was good enough for me – and it occurs to Dean that he’s dancing in the kitchen with the love of his life. He thinks back to the longest, loneliest nights he spent staring up at the night sky, believing wholly he’d die bloody and alone on the backend of some random hunt, and how the smallest (but loudest) part of him had wished for exactly this. For someone to hold him and see him and dance in the kitchen with him, barefoot and covered in soap.

He kisses the tip of Cas’ nose, the lines under his eyes. Doesn’t realize he’s crying until Cas is wiping tears away with the pads of his thumbs and soothing hands through his hair. He’s crying, too. Laughing and crying and telling Dean he loves him, he loves him so much, he’s loved him from the first moment he saw him.

It settles in Dean then – really settles deep, and true, and good – that he was meant for this. He wasn’t born to be a weapon. Wasn’t born to be a son, or a father, or a brother. Wasn’t born to save the world or to end it – was just meant to dance. His arms were meant to hold. To sway them both around the cheap linoleum floor, to sling low around Cas’ waist and spin them both ‘til they were dizzy with it.

They laugh and kiss and Janis is saying – good enough for me and Bobby McGee – and Dean is thinking – Yeah. Yeah, it really is.

#i'm sorry god. #mine #my fic #this literally. listen. #this came to me like a premonition #i was playing stardew valley and then it was like #if I don't write this incredibly self indulgent sappy shit I will EXPLODE #trying to get better about listening to that voice instead of ignoring it #bc i'm not like. great at writing but it makes me feel good. or it used to #and i wanna get back to that #anyway. #love how every few months dean and cas come into my life like ;)))) hey. #remember when everything you made was about us #and i'm like. god you're so right #destiel #deancas #spn #gonna try not to re-read this a thousand times until I hate it too so if it's like #trash that's why lmao #why am i so afraid anyway #ANYWAY

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ sending them suggestive pictures while they're at work

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fukuzawa, Fyodor, Sigma

content: nsfw, female reader, spanking, sexting, oral sxx, masturbation, semi public

It's not unusual for DAZAI to tap away on his phone during work hours, so no one — except for Kunikida, who still hasn't given up on glaring — pays it any mind when his smirk widens at his screen. What remains a secret, however, is that he's not looking at some funny tweet but instead at your tits, the blue lace of your bra making for a pleasant contrast in colour.

He's awfully smug about the whole ordeal, really; also, who is he not to play along? He definitely sends you not only some appreciative words back, but also a picture of his own, featuring either his hands — he does know that you're quite fond of his fingers, after all —, his face — because you can never complain about that! —, or his by now half-hard dick, pressing against his trousers, even though taking soft nudes borders on workplace indecency. Oh, and your pictures are definitely saved and stored away on his phone for later usage.

[new message from Dazai] “someone's needy, harassing me during work hours! just kidding bella!! you're so cute xx stunning too! how am i supposed to listen to kunikida any longer when you're so so pretty? :( ill call out sick, be there in 20 x”

CHŪYA really doesn't expect to see anything but a picture of a dog you saw outside or of a particularly pretty flower when he spares a brief glance at his phone during a Port Mafia meeting. It's already disrespectful, though he doesn't plan on anyone noticing the miniscule action — that is, until he all but chokes on his coffee at the photo of you, legs spread wide, two fingers deep inside of yourself, wearing not only his favourite lingerie set, but also one of his ties.

He tries hard to ignore the way everyone stares at him when he, all too abruptly, excuses himself to the bathroom, his face bright red. In the safety of a stall, he really can't do anything but shove his trousers to his knees, one hand immediately closing around his dick while he types your number into his phone with his free one — and while he might snap at you, oh so flustered, he's also so damn turned on that he can barely focus on anything but the sound of your voice and your photo.

“Fucking Hell, babe—, God, with how Mori was looking at me, I bet he knew what was up. Fuck—, send me another one, please, I'm so damn close, ah—”

Business meetings aren't RANPO'S favourite way to spend time. They're awfully boring, making him huff and sigh when he has to sit through them — though this one gets a lot more interesting the moment he clicks on a text message from you. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of your panties, pure lace and hiding not even the slightest bit just how wet you are, thighs glistening, though that's about all the physical reaction he's going to show. The fact that his dick strains against his trousers is no one's business.

He is, however, quick to text you back, amusement dripping from his messages, and if Fukuzawa wasn't already watching him with sharp eyes, he'd sneak away to the bathroom to call you. For now, you'll just have to do with sexting — this meeting is going to go on for a while, especially if he won't soon start contributing, and he's unfortunately got better things to do.

[new message from Ranpo] “having fun without me? youre so mean. at least send me more pics im dyin g here... maybw bend over or— ooo i know, we bought that toy a while ago, right? why don't you use that one for me, doll....”

FUKUZAWA sucks in a sharp breath the second his eyes fall onto your form clad in nothing but one of his yukatas, and even though he attempts to remain calm, he's already blushing, arousal churning low in his stomach. Really, he was just trying to take a miniscule break from all the paperwork he's facing — besides, the cat ringtone signaling your message did sound rather urgent! —, though now he's not certain whether he can focus on it again.

He ends up typing “This is most inappropriate.” in response, though he never sends it, instead replacing it with a “You look stunning.”, only to never send that one either. In the end, he just quits work a little earlier that day and hurries home faster than he'd ever want to admit, cheeks still flushed with arousal when he joins you in bed, immediately slotting himself between your pretty thighs, long fingers spreading your folds apart and into your cunt to prepare you — only to realise you've long done that yourself. How convenient. He might reprimand you a little afterwards, though both of you realise it's not to be taken seriously. When he's honest with himself, he rather liked that photo — and he'll definitely keep it.

“That was awfully inappropriate. Darling, you know I enjoy getting to hear from you during the day, and yet — what? I didn't mind you wearing my clothing in the slightest. I was worried about someone from the Agency seeing the picture. In fact, wear my clothes again whenever you feel like it. Please do. You looked quite irresistible.”

It's almost unfair just how seemingly unbothered FYODOR is. When checking his phone during a Decay of Angels meeting, aware that you know not to contact him except for important reasons, he merely glances at the photo lewdly depicting your raised skirt and the curve of your behind before putting it back into his pocket. Really, it's downright adorable that you're attempting to tease him — you should know better by now, darling.

While he doesn't bother with a response, he certainly makes sure to pay attention to you when he returns home. And, oh, the next time you want to toy with him, he sure hopes you remember this very moment, of you bent across his lap, his hand coming down ever so often on your butt, on the soft skin of your upper thighs, making you cry out with every slap. The marks, at least, will serve as a nice reminder, especially when you keep forgetting to thank him for every hit.

“There we go, dear. Ah, ah — don't cry now. This is what you wanted, is it not? My undivided attention — and you certainly have it, now. Which number were we on again? Tell me, darling, or we will have to start over, I'm afraid.”

The second SIGMA spares a quick glance at his phone, only to stumble upon a rather revealing picture you just sent him — and, God, 'rather revealing' is an understatement when he's able to see just how wet you are, thighs spread for the camera —, his face heats up significantly, earning him some odd looks from the other men he's currently in a meeting with. In a desperate attempt to regain professionalism, he clears his throat, trying to simply continue, but it's as if every thought has been erased from his mind and was replaced by you.

When getting home that evening, he's calmed down considerably, cheeks still warm with the memory of you being this bold, though his sudden calmness might just change when you expect him in that exact same position, legs wide apart, the smile on your face teasing — and who is he not to end up on his knees in front of you, tongue flattening against your cunt while both of you let out breathy moans? In the end, he's all but begging you to return the favour.

“Ah, God, I'm close. At least finish me off, please—, you were really cruel today, dear. Make it up to me? Please? Oh, fuck—”

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#honeydazai writes #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons #bsd imagines #bsd x you #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #fyodor x reader #Ranpo x reader #Fukuzawa x reader #Sigma x reader #Dazai smut #Chuuya smut #Fyodor smut #Sigma smut #Ranpo smut #Dazai headcanons #Fyodor headcanons #Bsd smut #Chuuya headcanons #fukuzawa headcanons #Sigma headcanons #Bungo stray dogs x reader #Bungo Stray Dogs headcanons #Bungo stray dogs smut #Bungo Stray dogs x you #Bungo Stray Dogs imagines #Bsd fanfic #Fyodor imagines #Dazai imagines

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

"Strawberry Kisses"

Pairing: Show!Percy Jackson x demeter!fem!reader

Summary: your boyfriend percy wants attention while you are tending to the strawberry patch

Contains: fluff, kisses, and more fluff [established relationship]

Word Count: 573

A/N: I make a return (again have little to no idea about the pjo world). this is pretty short but cute hehe. also this is most definitely not edited. ALSO lets ignore the fact that i edited this later to add a title and summary which i somehow forgot

"Can you hold this?" Percy's voice reaches your ears.

You turn around from the patch of strawberries you were tending to, to see Percy holding out his hand. "What do you want me to hold?" you ask in confusion - his hand is empty.

"This," he says, shaking his hand.

"You want me to hold your hand?" you ask sarcastically.

Percy looks at you with all seriousness "Yes."

You smile brightly at your boyfriend and intertwine your fingers together. "Happy now?"

Percy grins at you, "yep!" he lifts your hand up to his mouth and places a soft kiss on the back of your hand. "Now come on, I'm bored and want to go for a walk."

"Percy," you groan knowing full well that he doesn't want to take a walk at all.

"Come on y/n!" Percy urges. Instead of obliging him you force him to sit down and pick a ripened strawberry, kneeling you pop the strawberry in your mouth and chew. Percy is now watching your lips with an unbreakable interest.

"What, are you doin-" you cut him off by placing a soft kiss on his mouth leaving strawberry juice on his lips. Leans forward in search of your lips.

"Uh uh ah," you tut teasing him. "For every second ripe strawberry you find you get one kiss." Percy suddenly very, very keen to help pick strawberries jumps up and rushes around finding as many strawberries as he can.

"I got two!" Percy's voice fills your ear and you turn around and see you boyfriend grinning with two strawberries in his hand. You smile sweetly at him and take them both, placing one in the basket at your feet. Taking the other you bite into it and place the other half in on his lips before placing a kiss on his mouth.

Teasing him you pull back and say, "keep finding them!" Percy's eyes are trained on your lips but he nods eagerly, turning away and rushing to find more.

Thirty minutes later, Percy is sitting on the grass next to the patch with your head in his lap. "Y/n, listen to me - clearly you're not thinking straight," he says. "Ice cream is clearly the better choice."

"No, no, no," you say as he leans forward but trying not to move too much so he doesn't bother you. "Chocolate is better. What is wrong with you? Chocolate is-" Percy cuts you off you with a kiss.

"You're very wrong, but since I love you, we can shelve this debate for later, letting chocolate be the temporary winner."

"Yes!" you start to smile and chant about your victory.

"But, it's only temporary," Percy warns, placing another soft kiss on your lips.

You sigh, smiling up at the boy looking down at you. As much as you hate to admit it - Percy was right - this is much better than picking strawberries.As if he heard your thoughts, Percy smirks. "See, I told you this was better than picking stupid strawberries. Although, I definitely didn't mind those kisses," he says leaning over and plucking one before eating it himself and this time he places the kiss on your lips letting the strawberry juice linger on your lips.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson fic #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter one | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Coriolanus is his own warning, elitism

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

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Coriolanus finds out the plint prize won't be his, at least for now but the district twelve girl belongs to him

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 here's the first chapter ;)) hope you like it?! Remember to give feedback guys! And beta read by @nowitsmissing

series masterlist | series taglist | navigation

previous : prologue

Coriolanus Snow wakes up to his grandmother singing the Panem national anthem. He quickly takes a shower, trying to ignore the squeaks of rats in his bathroom. He rubs himself clean, turning his skin red from the raw scrubbing. He stops as his fingers brush on the scar tissue he has on his wrist.

He takes a deep breath, not letting his mind wander off to you. It's the reaping day. It's the plinth prize. A prize he was going to win. You were of no importance today, or ever for that matter.

But still, he can't help but imagine that the date was etched on his skin. The numbers were written with ink darker than the night, now all that remained was an ugly scar that gave him a nastier remainder.

He shakes himself out of it. His hands grab a towel to dry himself. He fixes his curls, trying to make them as stylish as possible. He has a reputation to keep up after all. Thankfully, today wasn't one of the days in which his eye bags were obvious, the hollow of his cheeks too obvious due to lack of food.

He looked surprisingly healthy like any privileged Capitol citizen would look like.

He gets out of the bathroom to go to his grandma’ams. He gives her a note on her singing of the national anthem before asking her where Tigris is. Just on cue, Tigris bursts in.

Her voice was excited, her face all smiles. She hands him a shirt, his dad's old dress shirt renewed with tesserae buttons. He wore it, letting his cousin rant about the process of it all. Even though he had no interest in listening, it was a thank you in his way.

He pins the rose given to him on his shirt. Teasing his family members about new dresses and chocolates. He was going to win the Plinth Prize, nobody could take this away from him. It was his right.

In the academy, he chats with his inner circle. Making snide comments about Sejanus and his Ma. That's when you come in, a drink in your hand. Your eyebrows are raised as you look at Arachne with barely hidden disgust.

Fuck, you looked stunning in your dress. He has to dig his nails into his palm to remind himself not to stare. Why are you torturing him by being so pretty? You're just a district girl, you had no business having such beauty.

“Tell us who won,” Arachne said with her haughty voice, “Your boy toy surely would have spoiled it by now.” You laugh in response.

A small giggle escapes your lips. You don't take offense by having Sejanus being called your boy toy. Coriolanus wants to furrow his eyebrows from your reaction. Were you and Sejanus dating? No way in hell. Even if you're district, you're better than Sejanus in every way. He wants to scowl at the implications.

(You're his, his, his)

“I wouldn't dare ruin his big day, Arachne,” Sejanus's voice rings out instead, him standing behind you. His arm around your shoulder. “People may not like my father but they do love his money. Surely you can relate?” Sejanus grins.

“Funny,” Arachne replied with a sneer.

You rolled your eyes, “Don't be mean, Sej.” You sip your drink and Coriolanus’ eyes can't help but follow the movement of your tongue poking out to lick your lips clean of the drink. His eyes also glare at Sejanus's hand on your shoulder, a part of him wishing he could break his arm.

You turn to Coriolanus. “Nice shirt,” you comment with a smile, and Snow can tell it's more genuine than anything you flashed at the rest of your classmates. He feels himself flush at the compliment. Not even stopping you even though he should because why should your dirty hands touch him? But he doesn't stop you when your fingers reach out to delicately touch the red rose pinned to his shirt.

“Such a beautiful flower,” you mutter in fascination, “and fresh too.” You tear away a rose petal, crushing the poor thing between your fingers, the tip of your fingers turning red.

He watched, no thoughts in his mind but he knew he should be offended. It has been ten years of your behavior he had endured, yet not once could he open his mouth to insult you.

How weak had you turned him since day one. If anyone knew, he would be ruined.

“Did you have to do that?” Clementia frowns, “Flowers are significant to the Snows.'' You only smirk in reply to Clementia. “I see,” you comment, before taking Sejanus's hand in yours.

You begin to walk away but Snow sees you turn around for a split second. Your eyes meet his and your lips form a word. Sorry. He mouths back, ‘ It's fine. ’

You smile at him and turn back, walking towards the chair where the top 24 seniors are supposed to sit, waiting for the announcement. You had let go of Sejanus’ hand by then, letting relief fall over Coriolanus.

Coryo's fingers rub the scar tissue over the fabric of his shirt. It was going to be fine. Over the years, both of you have grown up a lot. Despite having district blood, you consider yourself Capitol more than Sejanus did. You had adjusted first, and even if your peers didn't accept you, their families were certainly charmed by you during the galas.

You were smarter than Sejanus. You were better than Sejanus. Certainly, you couldn't be compared to the Capitol citizens, but you were worthy in Coriolanus' eyes. That doesn't mean he accepts you as his soulmate. That's something that won't ever change, however, the pride he felt towards you is something he couldn't control.

Coriolanus sits between you and Sejanus. He liked the fact that he was in between like a border neither of you should cross. Sejanus whispered to him, his voice grating but Coriolanus heard what he said.

“I know you had high hopes for this,” he whispered, “But there won't be no Plinth Prize. Not today.”

Coriolanus freezes as he hears what Sejanus means. What does he mean by no Plinth Prize? Never in history is that possible. Sejanus must have been mistaken. That's it because otherwise, everything in Coriolanus Snows’ life would go to hell.

However, Sejanus wasn't a liar nor did he make a mistake. Dean Highbottom soon revealed that the 10th annual Hunger Games and the mentor who won will win the prestigious prize Coriolanus needs. Livia Cardew, the girl he loathed, got someone from district one. Sejanus, the lucky bastard, had gotten someone in district two.

You had gotten the boy from district twelve. Someone named Jessup. The boy was healthy, fit, someone who could win under your guidance. Anger blooms in Coriolanus' chest, he tries hard to control the urge to not throw a chair at Dean Highbottom.

Even God wouldn't be so petty as the dean is. For reasons unknown why. The district twelve girl was his. Lucy Gray Braid.

Her makeup is jarring, she was wearing a dress that reminded him of clowns if they used more colors than red and white. The only thing good about her was how she captured attention despite the fact she had already insulted Snow by creating a facade in the reaping.

You can't take my sass

You can't take my talkin'

You can kiss my ass!

He looked at you when he heard the last part. A part of him craved your reaction, surely out of everyone, you wouldn't mock his tribute. You were district yourself after all. You wouldn't mock your people.

What Coriolanus Snow forgot was that you were his soulmate. And in no way the fates would allow his lover to be a saint, an angel as he had hoped for. You were anything but.

You had cruel amusement gleaming in your eyes. A smile of triumph on your lips as if you're sure that you will win the Hunger Games and not him. You turn to him, your eyes hiding the cruelty. You lean forward and Coriolanus counts to ten in his head so his eyes don't fall on your lipstick-stained lips.

“May the best man win,” you whispered, a smirk on your face, filled with the mockery all too familiar like the rest of his peers.

He was going to fucking show you.

“And hereby I declare the beginning of the 10th annual Hunger Games. May the odds be in your favor,” Dr. Gaul's voice calls out to the students.

Odds will be in his favor, whether it be willing by the Lord or his brute force.

Next Chapter

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@masimptoowth @ppcowboyprincess @lauravanderbooben20 @captainbabybear

@linkcommercial831 @write-from-the-heart

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#tbosas x you #tbosas smut #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #president coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x reader smut #snow x reader #character x reader #x you #x reader #x female reader #fem reader #the hunger games x reader #dystopian fiction #thg x reader #thg series #thg fanfiction #thg

[bruisedboys]

Jealous Finnick part 2?

Instead it’s with Peeta and training for the Quarter Quell? 👀

of course honey! thank you for requesting x

finnick odair x fem!tribute!reader

Finnick's not exactly pleased when he finishes in the training simulation and finds you teaching Peeta how to make a fish hook. Your fingers are quick and delicate as they work thin bronze wire around a makeshift hook. Peeta copies you, pressed far too close to your side for Finnick's liking. The younger blonde is totally enraptured, and sure, Finnick doesn't blame him, you're beautiful, but still — a frown works onto his face on it's own accord.

"Hey," he makes himself known as he approaches your workstation, because you're too focused on your work, and Peeta's too focused on you.

You look up at the sound of his voice and beam. It makes Finnick feel a little better you're so happy to see him. "Finnick, hey. You're done already?"

Finnick's frown deepens. "Yeah. I got bored."

"You got bored of chucking your spear at stuff?" You tease.

Peeta laughs next to you. Something claws at Finnick’s heart.

"Very funny, sweetheart," he tells you, ignoring Peeta. He rounds the table to get an arm around your hips, tucking his chin over your shoulder, his front pressed to your back. "What are you making?"

You warm at his closeness. "Just a hook. It’s not very good. Mags showed me how, remember?"

Finnick hums, watching your hands over your shoulder. "Mm, I remember. It looks good to me."

"Peeta's looks better," you say. "Pete, hun, show him yours."

Pete? Hun? Finnick feels suddenly like he's been punched in the throat. He can’t focus as Peeta hands his hook over and you show it to Finnick, raving about the attention to detail, or something. He‘a hardly listening, too busy trying not to kick Peeta in the leg. Pins and needles bite at his skin and dance over his palms. He accidentally digs his fingers too hard into your hip and you twist in his hold to look up at him, concerned.

"Hey, are you okay?" You ask him. You forget the hooks, setting them on the table and twisting to look at Finnick properly. You touch his arm. “Baby, you're really stiff."

Finnick pretends he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “Am I?"

You hum and take his jaw in your hand. "Yeah, honey." You pout at him, your hand dropping to his shoulder where you dig your thumb into the muscle there. "Could I give you a massage later, would that help?"

Finnick swallows hard. "I— yeah, okay." You want to give him a massage? You’re the loveliest person on the planet, he thinks.

"Okay,” you nod. “Remind me tonight, yeah?"

You beam at him and push up onto your toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. Finnick feels far too overwhelmed to kiss back. He’s still dazed when you pull away and turn back to Peeta, who looks half embarrassed, like he shouldn’t be watching such an unabashed show of affection.

“Peeta was gonna show me some of his camouflage tricks,” you tell Finnick. “Did you wanna come, too?"

Finnick doesn’t answer right away, and at his pause, you lace your fingers through his and smile up at him, the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“Please?” You ask, all sugary sweet, practically dripping in fondness.

“Okay,” Finnick nods, feeling a bit like you’ve put him under a spell. “Yeah.”

You beam at him and then drag him with you to follow Peeta to the opposite corner of the training room. Finnick doesn’t know if you’re doing it on purpose, but he knows for sure now he never had any reason to be jealous.

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed 🤍

#★ mal writes! #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fic #finnick odair fanfiction #finnick odair drabble #finnick odair blurb #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x reader fluff #thg finnick #thg finnick x reader #thg finnick x you #thg finnick x y/n #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #thg #thg series #thg x reader #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #hunger games #hunger games x reader #the hunger games fanfiction #thg fanfiction

[loonylupinblack3]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x driver!reader

Warnings: angst, swearing

Summary: breaking up with Charles to protect your career was the hardest thing you'd ever done, but what if it was all for nothing?

Word count: 1.5k

part 2

Charles stared at you from afar, brown eyes tracing your every movement as you talked to Lando Norris, the first driver for Mclaren. He watched as you laughed, your eyes crinkling and smile widening, looking for all the world like you were genuinely happy.

His body ached for you. He wanted to touch you again, to wrap his arms around your waist, press a kiss to your cheek, feel you lean into him and sigh, that content, dreamy sigh you did whenever he was around.

He wanted to go back to the days where it was hasty kisses in empty rooms, sneaking away at every opportunity, lazy mornings spent together within the confines of hotel rooms. He wanted you back in his arms even if it was behind doors; he didn’t care. He just wanted you.

He looked at you and then he looked at himself, his hands that ached to hold you again but never would. He clenched them into fists, nails digging into his skin as his knuckles turned white, the prickle of pain starting. Charles didn’t mind; he liked it even. It distracted him, made him think about something else for once, instead of you.

Because it was always you

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You were trying to ignore Charles to the best of your ability. It was difficult, however, when your body had become so attuned to him, you could feel when he entered a room. It was unfair. You were the one who broke things off, so why were you acting like some wounded animal whenever you saw Charles?

You sat in the driver’s room, a few other drivers occupying the space alongside you, Charles included. He was on the other side of the room though, so you settled for talking to Lando, hoping the Mclaren driver would provide a distraction.

“Did you hear two of the drivers are hooking up?”

If you were drinking water you probably would have choked on it, and even so you still sort of gaped at him, jaw hanging open like an idiot.

“What?” 

Lando grinned at your reaction. “Yeah, some rumour spreading across the engineering crew at Mclaren.”

“Wait, what is this about?” 

You internally groaned as George Russell sat opposite you. You didn’t mind the guy usually, was actually reasonably good friends with him, but everyone knew he had a thing for gossip, and if you wanted something kept secret, well, it was better not to tell George.

And you desperately wanted to keep this a secret.

“Two of the drivers are screwing,” Lando mused. “I wonder who.”

Unable to resist it, you shot a quick glance at Charles, to see if he was listening. He was, and he was staring right at you, eyes sombre but worried. He knew you didn’t want it to get out; that's why you’d broken up in the first place. And even with his obvious displeasure over it he still seemed to care for you.

What a jerk.

You pointedly looked away, feeling guilt and nausea build up inside you. You hadn’t wanted to end things with Charles, but you could tell he was unhappy. He wanted you two to be public, wanted everyone to know you were together. You… couldn’t do that. The standards weren’t the same for a woman in F1, and you weren’t willing to risk your career, even over Charles.

So here you were, both somewhat miserable, with the secret you sacrificed to protect trying to escape anyway.

“Two drivers are hooking up?” Pierre’s curious voice floated through the air.

For fuck’s sake.

You smiled tightly, looking up at the newcomer. “Allegedly. But we don’t know anything for sure.”

Pierre shook his head. “No, no, I think I heard something about this. Someone spotted two drivers using a spare room to.. Well, you know.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Lando whined.

Pierre shrugged, sitting down next to you. “I don’t know. It was maybe two months ago? I didn’t think it was true.”

And the conversation continued, nitpicking each driver’s dating life, trying to figure out which drivers were hooking up. You felt sick, your stomach doing nauseating flips every time they suggested another driver. You could already tell they thought it was you; there weren’t any openly gay drivers on the paddock, so logically that would mean one of them had to be with you, since you were the only female on the grid.

You kept your mouth shut though, offering up no explanation or defence. You just wanted this to be over, the sickening panic clawing at your throat, its nails scratching your back, digging into your stomach, making your head spin.

They couldn’t find out. No one could. You had sacrificed everything to make sure this secret was kept in the dark. You left Charles, left the man who made you feel alive, loved, happy, so that your career could persevere unharmed. It couldn’t have all been for nothing.

You couldn’t have done it all for nothing.

Again, your eyes found Charles, because they always seemed to find him, even when you didn’t mean for them to. He was staring at you, eyes softening. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away for the life of you. Not when he was staring at you with something other than pain or anger or disgust. When he was staring at you like before, glances shared across the room, playful smirks filled with secrets only you two knew. It was like déjà vu, smacking you in the face, your breath leaving your body with a deep whoosh, feeling empty yet full at the same time.

“Y/n?” Lando prodded.

You blinked, finally tearing your gaze away from the Ferrari driver, feeling sick, yet also tingly in your chest, a feeling you thought had long diminished since you and Charles ended.

“What?” you asked distractedly.

Pierre and George shared a look, raised eyebrows, and you narrowed your eyes. 

“Are you dating anyone?” Lando repeated.

Your throat closed up, eyes darting to Charles again. He seemed almost eager to hear your answer, leaning forward slightly, eyes trained on your figure. You looked at him and you saw his pleading gaze, his hopeful posture, like he was waiting for you to say yes, a promise to him that you were still something, that you would be something in the future.

You felt your heart break a little as you looked away, back at Lando.

“No, no I’m not.”

The sound of a chair clattering backwards took your attention, everyone turning to Charles storming out of the room, hands curled into fists. He sent a glance to you, eyes angry, yet just a cover for the hurt underneath that only you seemed to be able to see, before he left, slamming the door shut behind him.

It was silent for a moment after Charles’ sudden departure, no one really sure what to say. You just prayed they didn’t make the connection between why he was angry, and tried to ignore the heavy guilt weighing you down.

“What was that about?” George asked, eyes fixed on you.

Fuck he knew. Or at least knew something.

You swallowed thickly, shrinking under his scrutinising gaze. “I don’t know.”

“He’s been having a hard time lately,” Pierre said quietly. “I think it may have something to do with his dad…. Or Jules. He hasn’t been like this since then.”

The conversation turned towards Charles instead of you, fortunately, but what wasn’t fortunate was the crushing guilt you now felt, feeling as if it was ripping you apart. Were you the reason Charles was hurting this much? For Pierre to compare it to the loss of his father, of Jules… it made you feel shit. So fucking shit. Especially because you’d always slightly regretted the decision of choosing your career over him, because no matter how much you loved driving, it could never give you the same thrill that Charles did.

And to now know he was grieving you? Well, it was safe to say you’d never hated yourself more than right now. Would you go back and change things if you could? You weren’t sure. All you could do to comfort yourself was remembering it was for a reason. To protect your career. It wasn’t all for nothing.

At that moment, your phone gave a little ping as a notification went through. As did Lando’s, and George’s, and Pierre’s.

A strange feeling of dread filled you at the sound, and as you took out your phone, you realised you had a right be dreadful, because one look at the screen was enough to make you want to bolt out the room, the little news bar lighting up your phone like a neon sign screaming, ‘you fucked up’.

Y/n L/n and Charles Leclerc previously involved in romantic relationship confirmed

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like there was something heavy sitting on your chest, suffocating you. Everything around you became blurred, irrelevant compared to the big fuck up on your screen. You were distantly aware of Lando’s worried voice, Pierre’s hand on your back.

None of it mattered. All you could think about was Charles. You’d left him, left the life you had with him, ruined your relationship and any shred of happiness between you two to protect your career. Your precious career, like a baby to you, your whole life, the reason you walked away from the possible love of your life. And for what? For fucking nothing.

It was all for nothing.

#fanfiction #fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 grid x reader #peirre gasly #lando norris #george russell #lando x reader #formula one #formula 1

[a-hazbin-reader]

HII I just wanted to say I simply adore your Alastor headcannons.. ❤️

I unsure if you’re accepting request but if you aren’t you can ignore this one 😅

I was thinking of a pining Alastor with a fem reader who never sings. Like she has always hated musicals, and ever since she’s been in hell she noticed it’s just one big musical. And the moment they finally actually open up and sing.. it’s not with Alastor. But probably Angel to make him feel better.. So he’s all jealous that the reader hasn’t sung with him.

And at the end they share a lil love duet and slow dance .. like, singing at last by Etta James..

I don’t know..I just love how you write Alastor. Your writing is absolutely phenomenal. 💕

I've been avoiding this one because it makes me think of Nix- 😭

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being a MENACE, Grumpy!Reader, Mentions of Drunk!Reader

Description: 👆⬆️

You don't sing, you're not the kind of person who's just going to break out into song like everyone else around you

You sang along to music, sometimes sure, or maybe even sang to yourself, but you didn't live life like you're in a musical

You had better things to do with your time than dancing around to mysterious music and making up words on the fly

It was something that annoyed Alastor because no matter how hard he tried to get you to join him in his little song and dance, you just walked away

And left him feeling ridiculous for even trying to make music with you

Good

Your serious demeanor and closed off nature only served to make him want to win you over even more

He doesn't like people being a mystery to him, he wants to know what you're thinking and how you're feeling all the time

For the sake of knowledge, of course, not out of any romantic desire or anything as ridiculous as that

After several failed attempts to get you to sing, Alastor just assumes you've got a bad singing voice and gives up

Only to be PISSED when he's proven wrong because WHY WON'T YOU SING WITH HIM

He finds you holding Angel to your chest and singing to him, the poor spider holding back tears as he relaxes into your arms

Alastor just hides and listens to the sound of your voice more confused than ever as to why you don't sing

You have a BEAUTIFUL VOICE

It reignites his desire to get you to sing with him and he becomes more of a pest than ever for you

He tries to trick you into humming or singing, turning on the radio when you two are alone in hopes that you'll take a liking to a song

"Do you have a particular music preference, my dear?"

"Can't say I do, whatever you pick is fine."

You only roll your eyes and continue looking at your book, the only sign that you like the music is your leg bouncing to the beat

He later catches you humming a little tune with Niffty as the two of you clean up together, the happy look on your face is the most precious thing he's seen

Alastor tries to invite you out to a concert/musical, waving two tickets in front of your face

"What do you say, my dear~? You and I listening to the most wonderful music in hell together?"

Only to watch your face scrunch up at the idea and realize that he's about to be rejected

"That's not really my thing, maybe you can get Charlie to go with you."

He ends up giving the tickets to Charlie and Vaggie, letting the two of them have a date night

You're smiling and singing a little song with Husk later that night, cooking a late night dish with him

He sulks the entire night and glares at you whenever your paths cross because HOW DARE YOU

WITH HUSKER!?

He even tries taking everyone to a karaoke bar and pulling you up on stage, hoping you're drunk enough that you'll sing

Only to be the victim of your drunken rage and get body slammed into a table instead because he startled you

"Alastor!! Are you okay!? Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I will pay for the table!"

Charlie is panicking because everyone is STARING, but you just glare down at him, cheeks flushed from the booze

"Don't... sneak up on me like that..."

He'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on a little, laying there still in shock over what happened

"Understood."

Later, he hears you singing along to a song someone else is singing to. You're so drunk by that point that he doubts you even realize you're doing it

But you still sound so good even when your words are slurred and you're not even singing the right song

It gets to the point where Alastor's mood sours whenever you sing because he wants to sing with you but you always turn him down

You're trying to open up more but it's difficult to open up to someone like Alastor because it's impossible to know if he can be trusted

Your better judgment tells you no, but your heart whispers that you should give him a chance

Alastor just wants a duet with you so badly

You two would kill it, and he knows it

He's playing at the piano one day, singing to himself for entertainment more than anything

It's a song from his childhood, bringing up memories of happier times with his mother

When you suddenly saddle up next to him and begin to play as well, adding another layer to his song

His tail wagging and the way his eyes light up are the only indication he gives that he's excited by your presence

He keeps singing, feeling renewed by your musical accompaniment and really enjoying the music

Only to be graced with the sound of your own voice joining him, your hands briefly crossing over each others to play the right notes

The simple graze is electric for both of you, but neither would admit for years to come

He was right, you two sound better than anything he's ever heard before and he can't help but look at you because surely you feel it too??

Only to be flustered by the blush on your face and the small smile you give him, obviously pushed beyond your comfort zone but trying hard

It's all he can do to swallow the lump in his throat and focus on the song instead of how good you look or how beautiful you sound

Only when the song is over do you two realize how close your faces have gotten, gazing into each other's eyes like lovesick teenagers

You both are leaning in closer, gazes drifting down to lips-

When Alastor suddenly jerks away and walks across the room from you, his face burning from the realization of what almost happened

You deflate a bit and worry that you read him wrong, standing up so you can leave with your pride still intact

"Alastor, I'm so-"

Suddenly, the radio comes to life, Alastor picking a station with a slow romantic song playing before holding his hand out to you

"Care to dance, my dear? It'd be a shame to let such a good song go to waste..!"

You're both blushing and avoiding looking each other in the eye but you take his hand anyways, being pulled flush against him

If anyone were to peek in and see you two, it would certainly look like you two were a couple dancing to a romantic song and having a moment

Alastor has one hand on your hip while the other gently holds your hand, your head resting against him in an attempt to hide how embarrassed you are

His ears are folded back, and the smile on his face is wobbly and awkward, your other hand on his shoulder suddenly seemingly very interesting

Good thing nobody is peeking in on you two, except everyone is peeking in and passing around cash

"Pay up Angel, Husk, Charlie won fair and square."

I hope you guys like it 💓

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

[her-devils-advocate]

Selfish risks

pairings: Levi Ackerman x (GN!) reader

genre: domestic fluff

summary: In the peaceful downtime spent together, Levi decides to risk asking an important question.

word count: 1,435

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54159382

The Scout headquarters is silent, most of the survey corps members have already taken themselves off to bed, greedily getting as much rest as possible before the next mission creeps up on them. Everyone has been working hard, with both training sessions and squad meetings running longer and longer each day, almost as if each scout could sense something approaching.

The wind howls outside the stone structure, rustling the leaves and causing the windows to rattle. You shiver despite the loud crackling of the fireplace inside your office, the amber flames fighting to keep the chill away.

The warmth and ambient sounds of nature do their best to lull you to sleep, exhaustion tugging on your eyelids as you force yourself to work through the night. A bad habit that you had picked up from a certain captain.

Your relationship with him over the years within the scouts had caused a few of his mannerisms to rub off onto you, for better or for worse. You’ve found that the recruits you are tasked to train tend to listen to you more after you picked up Levi’s “don’t test me” expression. However, you have caught yourself clicking your tongue in displeasure a lot more as well, much to the amusement of all those nearby to pick up on it.

The frantic scribbling of your pen grows louder as you try to rush the piles of paperwork towering before you. A small rumble breaks the silence as your stomach protests, unhappy with the dedication to the mountain of paper causing you to skip dinner accidentally.

You are so engulfed in the moment that you almost miss the gentle creaking of the door. You raise your head only to be met with tired silver eyes cutting through the shadows of the room. 

Levi slowly shuts the door before pausing, simply watching you sign your name and toss the pen to the side, ignoring the halfhearted glare thrown your way as it rolls across the desk and onto the floor with a small clatter. 

You stare at him for a moment, waiting for the small lecture about making a mess, even if it is in your own space. A lecture that, surprisingly, never comes.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" He says instead, his voice is gentle, yet you can sense the small reprimand within his words. 

"Curfew doesn't apply to squad leaders and higher, I thought you knew that?" You shoot him a playful smirk that only grows with the withering look you get in response.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"I know, there's just... so much to get through and I figured I would power through most of it while you were in the meeting with Erwin and Hange. Which seemed like a good plan considering how long it took."

Levi lets out a long sigh as he walks towards the armchair by the fire, flopping down onto the worn fabric. You smile at the sight, at how carefree and unguarded he lets himself be around you. 

A sight some could never think to imagine when it comes to the aloof captain, but you know him better than most.

You get up from the desk, groaning slightly as your muscles scream in defiance. A sign that you have been cooped up on the uncomfortable wooden chair for far too long. The sound causes Levi's head to snap in your direction, only relaxing again when he notices you are in no real pain.

The sight makes you smile, even with everything he has to handle within the Survey Corps, he still always makes sure to look out for you as well. Even when he doesn’t need to.

His eyes track your every movement and you see a myriad of emotions swirling through them: exhaustion, concern, wonder, adoration and love all mix with the flickering amber of the fire within the gunmetal of his eyes.

He shuffles to try and give you some space beside him in the small armchair, only to frown in frustration and pull you into his arms instead. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, straddling his lap as you bring your hand up to run through his silky hair.

"Interesting meeting?" You whisper into his neck, not wanting to break the peace that has settled over you both. Something you both rarely get to cherish, yet heavily deserve.

The only reply you get is a small hum, he tightens his grip around you and peppers your shoulder with small kisses.

"Four-eyes has a new experiment they want to try out. Apparently, it's fundamental that Erwin lets them capture more titans for it." Levi says with a small grumble, his voice slightly muffled by your shoulder, clearly unhappy to remember what had held up the already late meeting for so long.

You go to open your mouth to speak, only for his low voice to cut you off instantly.

"And no, you're not helping them with whatever shitty plan they have in mind. You need to stop letting them drag you into their schemes so easily." He punctuates his words with a small flick to the centre of your forehead.

You let out a light laugh, the action sending a shiver across Levi's skin.

"How did you know I was going to suggest helping Hange?"

"I know you too well."

"That you do." You kiss his jawline, slowly moving towards his lips, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses as you do. He sighs when your lips finally meet his own, his eyes flickering shut briefly as you part. 

"Marry me."

Your eyes widen briefly, shock and excitement rushing through you, you are almost certain you had misheard him if it weren't for the slightest blush covering his cheeks and the determined look in his eyes.

"Is that an order, Captain?"

He huffs out a small laugh, his eyes flicking up briefly before he reveals a small ring from the pocket of his jacket. A proud green jewel sits atop the thin silver band, your breath catches as it glints in the firelight.

"I could make it one if you wanted. I got fed up of waiting for some perfect moment or whatever that traditional bullshit is. There are no perfect moments in this world, not when titans could eat us at any moment." He pauses for a moment, his usually stoic voice faltering with emotions as he tries to hide his face from your unwavering gaze.

"Or so I thought until you made me experience peace in these moments with you. Then I realised that every moment where we are alive together is a perfect one."

You stare at him with wide eyes, not noticing the stream of tears running down your cheeks until you feel his calloused hand brush them away with a softness you couldn't begin to imagine.

"The thought of having someone to lose scares me, but you've made me realise that marriage or not, loving you has been a risk I've been taking for a while now. Might as well make you officially mine while we have the chance."

You let out a watery giggle as your hands dance along the fabric of his shirt, smoothing out any creases that dare to cling to him.

"You know, most marriage proposals don't have the implications of a horrible death woven into them."

"That's clearly where the poor fuckers are going wrong then."

Levi's eyes are soft as he watches you, his lips finally quirking up into a small smile as you let out an undignified snort at his comment.

"Yes, I will marry you." 

You don't miss the way his shoulders drop with relief, nor the genuine joy that shines through his eyes. He delicately takes the hand you wordlessly offer him, taking his time to slide the ring onto your finger.

“Good, I want to risk being selfish. Just this once.”

You beam at his words, heart heavy as you place a soft kiss onto his lips before throwing your arms around his neck to pull him as close as possible. His arms quickly wrap around your lower back as he holds you tightly, his head resting against your chest. 

He can almost sense the approaching comment from the way you jiggle with pure, albeit restrained laughter.

“Is it green to match our capes? Don’t get me wrong, love, you choose very well. A fact I’m sure you already know, but…is that the reason?” “Shut up.”

The laugh you give him in response warms both of your hearts more than the now-dying fire could manage.

#♥. writing #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #aot x reader #levi ackerman x you #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #aot #snk #this is the first time i've written Levi and the man makes me nervous to do so!

[chrissturnioloshoe]

Parents for the day - M.S

Fluff - Y/n and Matt take care of Y/n’s niece for the day for a YouTube video and become parents for the day to see who would be the better parent.

My boyfriend, Matt, and I have decided to take care of my two year old niece for the day for a YouTube video to see what it would be like to be parents for the day. We have no interest in becoming parents any time soon but we thought it would be funny to see what we would be like at parents.

“Hey guys welcome back to my channel, today Matt and I are becoming parents for the day” I say to the camera as Matt sits besides me, my niece climbing all over him already taking a liking to him. “So this is my niece Sofia, and we’re going to be looking after her for the day to see who would be the better parent and as you can see she doesn’t really have any interest in me at all even though I’m literally her auntie” I chuckle as I watch Sofia giggle at Matt pulling funny faces at her.

“I guess she just likes me more than you Y/n” Matt chuckles making me roll my eyes playfully.

“Yeah whatever we’ll see about that” I say as I play with Sofia’s curly hair. “Okay guys so we’re gonna take Sofia to the mall but first we need to actually figure out how to get her in the car seat”

The three of us walk to Matt’s car, Matt holds Sofia in his arms as she clings onto him. Every time I try to speak to her she just looks at Matt and completely ignores me, making Matt laugh smugly.

“Sofia I was literally there when you were born I can’t believe you’re doing this to me, us girls are supposed to stick together” I say jokingly as Matt tries to fasten her into her car seat.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do this shit?” Matt says as he fiddles with Sofia’s seatbelt.

“Don’t swear in front of the child Matt” I laugh as I playfully hit his arm.

“What? It’s not like she’s going to copy me Y/n” Matt replies while still trying to fasten the seatbelt. Sofia giggles as she watches us both struggle to fasten her seatbelt. “Shit, why is this so fucking difficult?”

“Shit” Sofia giggles in her cute little baby voice, making Matt and I look at each other with wide eyes.

“Matt I told you” I say trying my hardest not to laugh. “Sofia you can’t say that, that’s a bad word Matt was being very naughty by saying that” I say as I playfully hit Matt who is dying of laughter.

“Shit, shit, shit” Sofia giggles repeatedly, making me gasp in shock and Matt to continue laughing.

“Matt look what you’ve done” I say. “My brother is going to kill me if I send his daughter back to him swearing” I giggle, trying my best to stay serious.

“It’s fine let’s just figure out how to fasten this car seat and we’ll just have to try bribe her with candy” Matt chuckles while making funny faces to Sofia, making her giggle.

“Oh yeah that sounds like a great idea Matt, swearing and a sugar rush. Absolutely fantastic” I say sarcastically as Matt playfully rolls his eyes.

We eventually figure out how to fasten the seatbelt and we begin to drive to the mall. I sit in the back with Sofia as Matt drives. I eventually got her to stop swearing and instead she’s now just repeatedly saying Matts name.

“Matt!” Sofia shouts as she points to him as he drives. I giggle as I watch her obsess over him, it’s literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

We eventually get to the mall and head inside, Matt and I hold Sofia’s hands as she walks in between us, her babbling making us giggle.

“I wonder what she’s saying?” I say as I look at Matt.

“I love Matt” Matt chuckles as he listens carefully to what Sofia was babbling on about. I roll my eyes at him and carry on walking.

“She definitely did not say that Matt” I say.

“Yeah well she’s thinking it” He chuckles making me roll my eyes once again as I let out a little laugh.

We walk into Claire’s and Sofia’s eyes immediately dart to the all the lovely pink kid jewellery which was placed out on a rack carefully. She immediately let go of our hands and ran towards it. She didn’t hesitate to pick each piece of jewellery up and throw it everywhere making Matt and I run after her to stop her.

“Sofia stop” I say as I pick up every thing she threw and try out it back nicely while Matt chased after her in the store.

“Sofia come back” I hear Matt say as he followed her through the store. I mouth a quick “sorry” to the workers as I watch them judge us, running around after Sofia not knowing what to do.

Matt eventually catches up to Sofia and grabs her in his arms. She giggles as she places her hands on either side of Matts face, pushing his cheeks together and laughing at the funny face he was making. I stop for a minute, out of breath after following Sofia and picking up everything she was throwing about.

“Jesus Christ who needs Pilates when you can just have a kid” I say out of breath. “Sofia you are such a little menace” I laugh as I boop her on the nose.

Sofia continues to push Matts cheeks together, now leaving wet salivary kisses all over his face making me laugh in disgust.

“Thanks Sofia that was absolutely disgusting” Matt laughs making me giggle.

“Come here Sofia why don’t we go pick out a little bracelet or something” I say as Matt passes her over to me. We walk back over to the place that Sofia had just previously destroyed and I put her down to let her choose a little bracelet.

Once again she picked up everything and threw on the floor making me sigh in annoyance as I pick it all up again, Matt just standing there laugh at me. But she kept one bracelet in her hand and handed it to Matt.

“You want this one Sofia?” Matt asks as he gets handed the bracelet. She nods her head and smiles. “Okay then come on” he says as he picks her up and walks to the counter to pay.

We walk out of the store and over to a candy store where we let Sofia pick out some candies. Once again she ran around the store knocking almost everything over as Matt I chased her whilst picking everything up.

“Oh my god Sofia I’m actually out of breath, you need to stop running” I say as I watch Matt feed her candies. It makes me smile watching Matt with kids, he’s so good with them. We don’t want kids anytime soon but this is literally making me have serious baby fever.

“Y/n I think she’s hungry, we should go to McDonald’s” Matt says as he picks Sofia up in his arms. I agree and we head over to the McDonald’s in the mall.

When we get there Sofia is in awe of the play are and keeps pointing at it. She keeps turning Matt’s head with her small hands so he can look at the play area.

“You wanna go in there Sofia?” Matt says as Sofia nods her head. “Babe you go order and I’ll take Sofia in the play area” Matt shouts over to me. I nod my head and go over to the counter to order.

As I’m ordering I keep looking behind me and giving little waves to Sofia as she shouts my name. I can’t help but smile to myself. Is this what it would be like to have a kid with Matt? I’m literally so full of baby fever right now, he’s just so good with kids.

Once the food is ready the three of us sit down. Matt grabs a high chair and places Sofia into it and begins to help her eat her food.

“Look at this Sofia you get a toy with your food” Matt says as he himself fascinates over the Pokémon toy you get with the happy meal. I laugh as I watch Matt and act like a little kid playing with the toy.

“You’re such a child Matt” I giggle as I eat my fries. “Sofia you want a chicken nugget?” I say as I hand her a chicken nugget.

“Thanks” Sofia says as she takes the chicken nugget out my hand and begins eating it. My heart fills with pure love as she babbles away.

“Oh my god Matt she’s so cute I literally just want to eat her” I say as I watch her just doing her thing.

We all finish our food and I begin cleaning up some of the mess Sofia made.

“Okay Sofia who do you like more me or Y/n?” Matt asks. Sofia points to Matt and grabs his finger with her tiny little hand. Matt looks at me and gives me a smug smile making me playful hit him.

“Hey!” Sofia shouts as she wags her finger in front of my face.

“I’m just joking Sofia I love him look” I say as I put my arms around Matt and give him a big kiss on the cheek. Sofia glares at me with pure jealousy in her eyes making Matt and I burst out into laughter. “Matt she’s actually obsessed with you” I giggle as Matt gives her a kiss on her forehead making her smile.

“I guess we know who’s be the better parent” Matt laughs.

“Shut up” I giggle.

The day goes on and we spend more time running around after Sofia. At the end of the day when we have to give her back to my brother and his girlfriend Sofia cried because she didn’t want to leave Matt which just made my heart melt.

“Aww Sofia we’ll come see you another day and we can have lots more fun” Matt says as he waved to Sofia.

“Yeah you can come stay at our house one night” I suggest as we say goodbye.

Just as we were about to part ways we hear Sofia shout a little “Shit!” Which made us both dart away back to Matts care before my brother could say anything to us.

“That was actually so fun” Matt says with a huge smile.

“Yeah it really was” I say.

“Sofia is so cute I actually love her so much” Matt says still smiling.

“I think she loves you a lot too” I say making us both laugh.

This was so cute wtf I loved making this. I was watching one of Tara and Jake’s old videos when they did this and it sparked the idea and in actually in love 😭

#matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fluff

[btsficsandsuch]

Taste of His Own Medicine

You suddenly have to leave to go back to your home country for a few months. Yoongi decides to ignore you so you decide to show him how it feels when he realizes you’re gone.

“Hi Yoongi.”, you said after letting yourself in the studio. You received nothing more than a grunt. “I brought you some food.”, you said trying to lure him over to the couch. “Not now Y/N. I’ve got a lot going on.”, he said without even looking at you. You were starting to get frustrated. Sure you wanted to spend time with him but you also had something really important and time sensitive to tell him. You knew he was already stressed and cranky and your news wasn’t going to make it any better. “Yoongi please come have dinner with me. I really need to talk to you about something.”, you begged. He slammed his hand on the desk and spun his chair around startling you., “What part of not now I’m busy are you not understanding? Sometimes you can be so frustrating Y/N. Please just get out and leave me alone.” You didn’t say a word and just grabbed your bag storming out of his studio slamming the door behind you.

Back at your apartment you were doing your best to calm your nerves. You couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to speak to you like that and even after you haven’t spoken or seen each other in three weeks. You felt that you were more than patient and understanding when he got into moods like this with his work. He always did this to you where he’d ignore you and if he did pay attention to you he was short with everything you did and said. You finished zipping up the last of your bags and placed them by the door along with your plane ticket. Something had come up and you had to fly back to your home country which was the reason for your visit to Yoongi’s today. You were going to tell him that in the morning you had to fly home and you’d be gone for at least two months. You had hoped to eat dinner together and cuddle a little since it would be the last time you’d be with each other for a while. Instead you were yelled at and called names.

The following morning you woke up and checked your phone secretly hoping for a text or a phone call or anything from Yoongi giving you a reason to call him and hear his voice before leaving for the airport but nothing. “Fine then. If he doesn’t care I won’t either.”, you thought slamming your phone down on the desk. You showered and got changed just finishing up when you got a notification that your ride was waiting outside. You grabbed your bags and took one last look at your apartment you’d be away from and closed the door behind you.

Once at the airport you remembered why you hated flying so much. The crowds of rude people, the loud noises, the having to rush no matter how early you are. You hated it. Your first flight went smoothly. You arrived at your layover destination and decided to grab something to eat while you waited to board your next flight. While eating your sandwich you remembered that you had turned your phone off before the last flight and pulled it out of your pocket to power it on.

Once up and running you waiting for any notifications to pop up. There were two texts from your mom, one from your best friend, and one from your boss. Then you saw something that concerned you. 11 missed calls and close to 20 texts messages, all from Yoongi.

Yoongles: Hey Y/N, I’m on my way home. Did you need me to stop and get you anything? I seriously can’t want to get in bed with you. I need a hug more than anything.

“Odd he wants to pretend like he didn’t snap last night.”, you thought before continuing to read.

Yoongles:Y/N where are you? I thought today was your day off.

Yoongles: Babe seriously you never go this long without responding.

Yoongles: Y/N why is a bunch of your stuff gone? Did you leave?

Yoongles: Listen I know I’ve been difficult lately but you know I love you and you mean everything to me.

Yoongles: Y/N please answer me. I’m really worried right now. Whatever happened we can fix it.

Before you could continue reading your phone started ringing again. You saw Yoongi’s name pop up. Part of you wanted to just ignore him but you did feel kind of bad knowing that he was in distress. You decided to answer,

“Hello”

“Y/N! Where are you? I’ll come to you. We need to talk”

“Umm I’m actually at the airport waiting for my connecting flight back home.”

“What?! You’re going back home? Like forever?”

“No I’ll be gone for at least the next two months. Maybe a little longer.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? You seriously just packed your stuff without saying goodbye.”

“Actually I came by your studio yesterday. Remember? I had found out yesterday morning that something has come up and I need to go back home for a while. I brought you food and asked you to talk to me. You ignored me and then yelled at me and called me annoying and told me to leave so I did.”

There was a long silence before Yoongi spoke again, “No this isn’t happening. I really don’t get to see you for at least two months? I can’t live like that.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, “Well maybe this will teach you not to take our time together for granted and to not treat me like that. They’re about to start boarding so I have to go. Take care of yourself Yoongi. I’ll see you when I get back.” With that you hung up not giving him the chance to say anything else. You knew it was harsh but he was also harsh towards you and you wanted him to regret his actions as petty as that might be. Maybe he’ll see what it feels like to be on the receiving end of feeling ignored. A taste of his own medicine.

You shut your phone back off and made your way to the gate boarding your next plane. Your next flight thankfully went quick and you landed back in your home country. You were going to be staying with your parents. Finally arriving at your parents house you quickly went up to your old room and laid in bed exhausted from the day of travel. You turned on your phone so you could charge it and set your alarm clock when you heard a bunch of notifications which you figured were all from Yoongi. You were correct. He had tried to call you six more times and sent you a bunch of texts,

Yoongles: Y/N I’m really sorry. I was such a jerk. I never should’ve asked you to leave.

Yoongles: Please let me know when you’ve landed so that I know you’re safe.

Yoongles: I’ll stop bothering you. Just please let me know you’re safe and okay. I’m laying in bed alone and I really miss you. I love you.

You sighed. As much as you wanted to completely ignore him you knew he’d be a nervous wreck all night if he didn’t know you were safe and you didn’t want that.

You: I just got to my parents so I’m safe. Get some sleep Yoongi. You really need it. I’ll talk to you another time.

Over the next couple months Yoongi texted you and called you more than he had in the last six months. You didn’t completely ignore him but you definitely tried to give him that taste of his own medicine.

You were able to get everything situated back home and got prepared to make the trip back to Seoul. You had decided to keep it a surprise from Yoongi telling him that you were still probably going to be gone for a few more weeks.Thankfully the trip was quick and easy and you were now making your way to his studio. You knocked on the door but all you heard was a muffled Go Away. Rolling your eyes you knocked again, this time louder and harder hoping to get his attention.

It worked because a few second later the door swung open with fury and standing there was a disheveled Yoongi. He looked like he hadn’t slept the entire time you were gone and he probably ate just enough to barely keep him alive. “What do you wa-?”, he stopped mid speech when his eyes met yours. Instantly he lunged forward wrapping his arms around you burying his face in your neck. Before you could say anything you felt his shoulder start to shake and not long after you felt warm tears landing on your neck. Gently you pushed him away to get a better look and saw that he was crying.

“Yoongles, why are you crying?”, you asked wiping at the tears. This was only the third time he had ever allowed you to see him cry and it was heartbreaking. He was taking this a lot harder than you ever thought he would.

Quickly you pulled him into his studio and sat him down on the couch trying to comfort him. After he was able to calm his breathing he leaned onto you snuggling his face in the crook of your neck, “I’m so sorry Y/N. I never knew how hard it was when I shut you out. These last couple months have been awful.” You kissed his forehead, “It’s okay Yoongi. I’m here now. I’m sorry that I just left like that but I wanted you to see how it felt even though it was painful for me too. I worried about you every day while I was gone.” He chuckled, “Yeah well I cried pretty much every night. I don’t know how you did it all these years. I promise I’m going to be better about spending time with you and I’ll watch my mouth.” You smiled while pushing the hair out of his face, “Good because next time I go home I just might not come back.” Yoongi shook his head at the thought.

You watched him walk over to his computer closing all of the systems and powering it off. “What are you doing?”, you asked confused. He started putting on his coat and walked over to take your hand, “We’re gonna go get something to eat and then go home. We have two months of cuddles to make up for and I’m not waiting any longer.” You smiled taking his hand and walking out of the room with him happy that you finally get to relax in his arms like you wanted from the start.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #bts yoongi #bts fluff #bts imagines #yoongi imagine #yoongi x y/n #yoongi #min yoongi

[mikareo]

⌗ TWO SLOW DANCERS ₊ ˖ ་. gojo satoru x fem reader (1.2k)

⊹ ⠀⠀why doesn’t he love you?

contains; angst, rejection, reader just wants to be loved, gojo's kinda a dick, mitski did this to me, not proofread author's note; i'm thinking abt the guy who didn't want me rn sorry

“Can I ask you something?” you murmur, your voice nothing above a faint whisper. Fear of judgment is laced within it, something you can’t help but wish you could get rid of. “It’s going to sound ridiculous, and if you think so you can just ignore me.” He’s going to ignore you.

However, Gojo sits up straighter. His eyes are intending to focus on you. “Nothing you say is ridiculous. I’m always here to listen.” You want to believe him so badly. There’s nothing else in the world that you wish for. All you need is a confession, him reciprocating the depth of your feelings, but you know that’s impossible. If he felt the same, he wouldn’t have started seeing that girl; no matter the fact that she’s wonderful for him, amazing, and kind. If she’s so amazing, what are you doing wrong? What is it about her that you can’t compare to? You know you’d be perfect for Gojo. He’s your best friend. He’s the person who knows you better than anyone, so why is it that he doesn’t love you the same way you love him? It doesn’t make sense. 

What are you doing wrong?

“...am I difficult to love?” You feel like you already know the answer. It’s a pointless question that’s been eating you up inside for years, ever since you first met and he instantly treated you as a friend when you wanted to be loved by him. “I know it’s silly, but I feel so helpless.”

Without realizing it, your words flow from your lips like a river streaming downhill. Not even the largest dam could hold in your insecurities. “I try so hard, everyday to be kind and patient and perfect; but no one seems to notice. Is there something that everyone else has that I don’t? What am I missing that makes me invisible? Why do I feel so stuck while the world keeps moving and progressing and making changes that I can’t keep up with? Why don’t you love me?”

There it is. 

There’s the question that you’ve swallowed down for the past ten years of knowing Gojo Satoru…and somehow…

…it seems that he already knows the answer. 

“I do love you.”

In half a second, your heart beats faster. It swells with an overwhelming pink feeling that practically causes it to burst. You almost see stars. In your imagination you’re flying through the night sky, weaving constellations together as you hold Gojo’s hand and ask him what he’s wishing on that shooting star, oh so close to you. So close, yet so far. So far, that it never reaches you; because nothing is ever as it seems. It isn’t a wish racing your way, it’s a meteorite. A meteor thats target is the home in your heart that you’ve made so lovingly for your best friend. The flaming rock finds your weakest point and begins to wither it away into nothing but hopeless shreds of dreams. In a half a second, you’re on the top of the world. In a half a second, your world is destroyed. 

“I just don’t love you in the way you want me to.”

You’re a fool. You knew this was coming.

“I can’t imagine my life without you.” Shut up. Why can’t he just shut up? You don’t need these filler words, these empty statements that he’s only saying to make you feel better about your worthless self. “You’re such an important part of my everyday.” Shut up!

It’s so hard to hold in the tears. Your dam already burst— but instead of a river, it seems that you’ve got an ocean of feelings. This ocean is polluted, though. It’s littered in trash and oil, after years of wanting something that was never yours. Other men have thrown their waste in your waters and Gojo’s always been the one to clean it up. He’s always made you laugh…made you smile…made you believe that everything is going to be okay as long as you trust him. Now, you’ve made the mistake of trusting him with your heart; when he’s never cared if it shatters. 

“Please don’t say those things to me.” It’s pathetic, the whimper shaking from the tip of your tongue. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Gojo isn’t even replying to you. He’s simply staring with the most pitiful look in his eyes, as if you’re a dying animal that he’s just shot with a rifle. How do you make him stop looking at you like that? You’re better than this! Just suck it up and smile!

Somehow, you find yourself laughing. “Don’t worry about it, Satoru. I’ll be fine, it’s just a silly little crush.” You’re lying. 

It’s so obvious you’re lying. 

He’s never been a crush. If he was a fleeting crush, then you wouldn’t spend your nights thinking of how you made him smile earlier in the day. You wouldn’t know his favorite place, song, and movie at the top of your head. You wouldn’t imagine his face whenever you picture your wedding day— at the end of the aisle, smiling at you with tears in his eyes. If he was just a little crush, it wouldn’t feel like your entire world is ending. 

“I know you’ve liked me, it’s a little obvious.” He shrugs. “I just assumed you’d get over it?” 

He knew? He’s known all this time?

There’s a war raging between your heart and your mind. It’s a battlefield with logic on one side and love on the other. The rational part of you knows that he can’t help his feelings. He can’t force himself to reciprocate something that he’s never felt before. That’s unfair to him, and you can’t make him love you…

…but the other half of you can’t accept that. 

After all these years of waiting for him. Years and years of watching your closest friends find love, be loved, and experience all of the firsts that you’ve always wanted to experience with him by your side. He doesn’t love you. You’ve known Gojo Satoru since you were ten years old. You’re twenty now and still so delusional that you believe he can feel the same way. Why can’t he, though? Gojo knows you from front to back. If there’s anyone in the world who could write an encyclopedia titled with your name, it’s him; and he still doesn’t love you. You’re the person who’s been there for him through countless breakups and temper tantrums. You’re the one who he trusts most in this world, yet he will never…ever…want you back. 

Someone is writing the story of the world. Someone is tying the strings of fate, the line of destiny, or whatever you want to call it; and that someone isn’t on your side. They never have been and they never will be…

…at least not in the case of Gojo Satoru. 

“I’ll try my best.” A phony smile graces your face and you’re now realizing that he’s never once called you beautiful. Yet, you still want him. Perhaps it’s human nature to wish for the things that are terrible for you. “You don’t have to worry about me, Satoru. I’ll be fine.”

Yeah, maybe in ten years. 

“I’ll be able to forget about this.”

You don’t think you will.

“I didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”

Your feelings are an inconvenience.

“It’s nothing.”

It was love.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

#i listened to mitski while writing this #୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ my writing #i.e. two slow dancers #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo ff #gojo fanfiction #gojo fanfic #gojo angst #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru ff #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojo satoru fanfic #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk anst #jjk hcs #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk drabbles

[girlgenius1111]

don't doubt us.

ingrid x mapi x reader

r gets sick. mapi and ingrid get overprotective. r pushes herself too hard, but her girlfriends know what she needs better than she does

18+ smut!

-----

It started with a rain game; everyone had gotten a bit of a cold from it, but it spiraled into something worse for you. Maybe because, at first, your girlfriends were sicker than you, so you'd ignored your own, milder symptoms, in favor of waiting on them hand and foot. As they got better, you got worse.

You'd gone to bed the night before with a slight fever, a dry cough, and a stuffy nose you were definitely playing down to Ingrid and Mapi. You woke up, however, to a hazy darkness around you, and one of your girlfriend's soft voices in your ear. You couldn't really focus on what she was saying, or really who was talking; all you could think was that you were too hot.

Ingrid had shaken Mapi awake a few minutes before, after waking up herself to the sound of you wheezing in your sleep. They'd listened carefully for a minute, before rolling you onto your back to try to improve your airflow. When you kept wheezing, Ingrid gently tried to rouse you.

"Elskling, wake up for me please," she said, watching as your eyes fluttered open and shut. You only groaned in response, turning on your side to roll into Mapi's chest. It was comfortable there, soft. Mapi smelled like... Mapi, like trees and fresh air, a scent you deeply related to feeling safe, and you weren't very interested in leaving that feeling behind.

"No, princesa, you need to wake up," the Spaniard said easing you again onto your back.

"Nooo," you whined pitifully, voice a raspy whisper, eyes tightly shut again.

"Sí, amor, venga," Mapi murmured, running a finger lightly over the creases in your forehead, wincing at the heat radiating off your skin. You cracked an eye open, about to tell your girlfriends to leave you alone, but instead, you broke into a violent coughing fit. The other girls hauled you up into a sitting position, hovering anxiously as you coughed, wheezing on every sharp inhale.

"Breathe, love," Ingrid said, rubbing her hand up and down your back. You could only shake your head at her. Your expression was one of panic as you realized you couldn't stop coughing. A hand on you cheek coaxed you to look away from Ingrid, and towards Mapi.

"Relax, mi niña, do not panic," Mapi encouraged, holding your face to keep your eyes on her. She over-exaggerated her own breaths, and your coughing slowly stopped. It took you a while to catch your breath, and your girlfriends seemed to be having a silent conversation around you. Ingrid handed you a glass of water, which you drank carefully. When you were done, you handed it back to Ingrid, leaning heavily into Mapi. Her tattooed arms wrapped around you, pulling you into her, and she couldn't help but notice the way your body shook, or the sound your chest made every time you breathed in. The Norwegian scooted closer to the both of you until you were squished in between them. You'd relaxed slightly, but you tensed back up at the words Ingrid spoke into your ear.

"We need to go to the doctor, love," she stated delicately. You opened your mouth to argue, but Mapi was talking before you could.

"No, no arguments. Your breathing sounds awful, you could have pneumonia."

You rolled your eyes. "I don't have pneumonia, don't be ridicu-" you were cut off by another coughing fit. Once you'd stopped coughing, you looked between the girls next to you. It was dark, and you couldn't make out much of their expressions, but both of them seemed to be looking at you expectantly.

"Fine."

-----

You did have pneumonia, it turned out. How you were so sick was beyond you, but you couldn't argue much about the fuss Ingrid and Mapi were making over you, laid in a hospital bed with an oxygen mask pulled over your face. You thought it was overkill, and you'd tried to take it off, but Ingrid had looked like she might tape it to your face if you removed it, so you left it.

You were sleepy, but not quite comfortable enough to sleep. The IV pulled at your skin, and your lungs felt like they weren't expanding all the way. Mapi was dead asleep in a chair on your other side, her face resting next to where her hand held yours. Ingrid sat in a chair next to the bed, her fingers tracing patterns over your forehead. Your eyes kept fluttering shut, and you would start to drift off, but something would wake you; a pinch of pain from the needle in your hand, a beep from the monitor you were connected to, a loud voice from down the hall. You had startled back awake multiple times, and Ingrid sighed, knowing you needed to rest.

"Can I do something to make you more comfortable?" she whispered, minding the Spaniard's sleeping form on your other side. You briefly pulled the mask away from your face to answer her.

"You could get me out of here." You whispered back, ignoring the way Ingrid's expression tightened. Your inability to admit you weren't well was something that came up often in your relationship; it annoyed Ingrid and Mapi to no end, but they couldn't be mad at you, not really.

"Not gonna happen, elskling." Ingrid responds, kissing your cheek as you pout slightly. Struck with an idea, though, a smirk finds its way onto your face.

"Watch," you instruct Ingrid, before turning to Mapi.

"OW!" you cry, jerking your hand away from Mapi's. She jerks awake, sitting up in her chair, looking around frantically.

"What? What is it? What hurts?" she demands, eyes scanning you. You laugh, and Ingrid scolds you lightly. Mapi's eyes narrow, and she leans back in her chair, glaring at you. Ingrid pulls the mask back over your face, allowing it to snap into your skin just slightly. You're still laughing, and Ingrid shakes her head.

"Is that what I get for making you come to the hospital?" Mapi questions. You pull the mask away again, ignoring Ingrid's annoyed huff.

"No, that's what you get for sleeping when I'm the sick one, and I can't fall asleep." You're kind of joking, but Mapi's expression softens entirely, and she stands, gesturing for you to make room on the bed. With a confused look, you do, scooting over to the edge. The defender slips onto the bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you until you're nestled against her.

"Better?" She asks. You turn to look at her, and melt a little at how adoringly she looks back at you. You nod in response, and she smiles, satisfied, kissing your forehead lightly. "Good. Rest now."

You nod again, resting your head against her chest. Your eyes find Ingrid, who is watching the 2 of you with a loving smile on her face. You reach your hand out, and she takes it, lacing her fingers with yours. You let out a long sigh, allowing your eyes to drift shut. They don't snap open this time, and you're sure it's because your girls have done everything possible to make you comfortable, and feel safe.

-----

Your hospital stay is short lived, and your sent home with antibiotics after a day. Ingrid and Mapi take the following days off of training, insisting on staying home to take care of you. This, you get used to. They return to training a full week before you're even allowed back in the gym, and you quickly miss their doting care, kind touches.

By the time a week has passed, you're desperate to get back to normal with them, feeling heavily left out when they return from training together, even though they're always ecstatic to see you.

You think that returning to training would make things better, but you spend your days in the gym, while they are out on the pitch with the rest of the team. They got to spend all day together, while you were alone inside. You'd been so exhausted from being sick that you'd been sleeping more than usual, meaning you had even less time to spend with them. Combined with the fact that they'd been together before you'd gotten with them, you couldn't help but feel insecure.

You know you're being ridiculous, really. It's your job, and they're doing nothing, absolutely nothing, to warrant you feeling so neglected. Obviously, their care and concern for you had faded since you'd gotten better. You weren't really sure why you felt so distanced from them, but you're extremely tired of the feeling.

So, when the team doctor tells you that, technically, you can return to team training that afternoon, although another few days of light work wouldn't hurt, you jump at the chance. You expect your girlfriends to be excited for you, but when you tell them the news, making your way outside during a water break, you're met with frowns. They both think you should give it a few days, and your chest burns with hurt and embarrassment. Again, you know, in your brain, that they really are just concerned for your health. It still feels like rejection, though, and you replied harshly to them, storming off to the outdoor gym for the second session of the day, this time with the team.

Your frustration fuels you, and you fly through the workout. Ingrid and Mapi are watching you so carefully, which should make you feel better, but doesn't. You only push yourself harder, like you have something to prove. By the end, your girlfriends are staring daggers at you from across the gym, and you are sweating heavily, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Your teammates catch the tension between the 3 of you, and leave you all alone to deal with it.

You ignore Ingrid and Mapi completely as they try to check in with you, marching right past them into the locker room. You barely speak to them on the car ride home, at which point you can tell Ingrid is holding her anger back by a thread. You expect the slamming of the car door to be the last straw, as Ingrid has never been a fan of brattiness. You're right; Ingrid is whirling you around the second you get into the house, Mapi sighing and leaning back, a mere spectator for now. You go back and forth with Ingrid in circles, until you're both shouting, and not really listening to a word the other is saying.

-----

"Because, elskling, you are supposed to be taking it easy," Ingrid yelled, not doing well to hide her frustration. Mapi sighed from where she stood against the wall, arms crossed, watching your guys' argument.

"I was cleared by the doctor, Ingrid, I don't need you hovering over me every second of everyday," you shouted back.

"Y/n-," Mapi started.

"- Do not speak to me like that, y/n. We are only looking out for you. I do not understand why you are being so reckless with your health, throwing yourself back into training like that."

"Jesus Ingrid, the physio said it was fine."

"The physio also said it wouldn't hurt to wait another week!"

"I couldn't wait any longer! If you just want to spend time alone together the 2 of you, you can just tell me that, instead of trying to force me into staying out another week," you cry, tears beginning to fall from your eyes.

"Y/n, what are you talking about? Of course we want to spend time with you," Mapi cut in, stepping inconspicuously next to Ingrid, and laying a hand on her arm. Ingrid looked stunned into silence.

"Well it doesn't feel like that. Both of you can just fuck off, and leave me alone, I don't need your permission to start training again, and I don't need you guys monitoring my every move," you snap, marching off towards the bedroom.

"Y/n!" Ingrid grabs your wrist as you pass by her, but you don't turn to face her. "We are not done here. You know what happens when you speak to us like that. We have rules for a reason, elskling, and you have broken several of them today." The Norwegian reminds you, speaking dangerously softly.

Instead of answering, you pull away from your girlfriend, stomping into the bedroom and slamming the door. You head right into the bathroom, turning the shower on, before sinking to the ground.

You know you're in for it when you leave the bathroom. You'd been rude and dismissive of your girlfriends all day, even though you knew, rationally, that they were just acting overprotective because they cared for you.

When both girls suggested you take another week to heal, and really give your lungs a rest, it felt like they just didn't want you at training with them. You hadn't even really heard them out before snapping at them to mind their own business, in front of most of the team. This, they probably could have let slide, but you kept up the attitude all the way home, culminating in a shouting match between you and Ingrid.

Your frustration also had another factor- your girlfriends hadn't touched you since you'd gotten sick, and you were aching for them. So, you used your frustration with them to fuel an argument, and acted in a way which you knew would mean a punishment. A punishment was what you thought you wanted. So, you shower quickly, trying to wipe your tears away before they stain your cheeks, preparing yourself for whatever Ingrid and Mapi have in store for you.

-----

When you leave the bathroom you are met with your girlfriends waiting for you on the bed, speaking quietly to each other. They stop talking as soon as you walk in, and they don't miss how your eyes drop to the ground, or the way you're dressed in an assortment of their clothes. They hadn't realized, until your outburst, how neglected you'd been feeling. They were wrought with guilt over it, and determined to make it better, make you feel better. They weren't sure that a punishment was what you needed though.

Silently, you walked into the room, hesitating before opting to stand by the bed, instead of taking a seat next to them. You honestly didn't know how mad they were, but you expected them to be pretty upset at your behavior. Ingrid surprises you, though.

"Y/n, come here, darling," she says, and it's not what you're expecting. Ingrid's kind, gentle voice, not the voice she uses when she's about to punish you. Normally, that voice fills you with arousal, but today, this soft voice has the same effect. This is perhaps your first hint that you need something gentler than you are expecting to get.

You walk over to Ingrid, standing in between her legs. Even sitting down, she's almost eye level with you. You look at her, meeting her eyes for the first time that day, and once again don't find what you are expecting to. Her hands flutter over your cheeks, fingertips dancing around the dried tear tracks. Instead of saying anything, she pulls you in for a kiss, her lips meeting yours. It's sensual and heavy, her hands threading through your hair as she tries to put her love for you behind the kiss. Her lips work against yours steadily, tongue slipping in to press against yours, and Mapi watches as you melt against your girlfriend, almost boneless at her touch.

The Spaniard moves to stand behind you, pressing herself up against your body, sweeping your hair to the side and beginning to suck light marks into your neck. You moan into Ingrid's mouth, a sound she swallows, one hand dropping back to hold Mapi against you. You're breathless already, and Ingrid moves her lips from yours down to your neck, her and Mapi working hickeys into your skin from either side of you.

"Don't understand," you get out, trying to determine what their game is. This isn't normally how a punishment goes, especially not when you've broken multiple rules.

"What don't you understand, bonita?" Mapi whispers into your ear, and you suck in a breath at the feeling of her warm exhales on you.

"You're supposed to be punishing me," you say, tilting your chin down in accordance with Ingrid's suddenly insistent hand on your face.

"Do you think that's what you need, elskling? To be punished?" she husks. If they're trying to distract you, it's working. You can barely focus on anything either of them are saying, especially when the other's mouth is hot on your skin.

"Doesn't matter. I broke the rules, I should be punished," you say, not really understanding what they're getting at. Ingrid reattaches her lips to your skin as Mapi speaks again into your ear.

"I don't think you need to be punished. I think you need us to remind you how much we love you."

At this, you step back, sliding out from between them. They look at you searchingly, the panicked look on your face.

"I can take my punishment, I can be good," you say, and their faces melt into understanding.

"We know you can, bonita. You are so good for us."

"We haven't been paying you enough attention, that's why you broke the rules. We want to make that up to you, okay?"

"But the punishment,"

"Forget about the punishment. We only care about making you feel good, reminding you how much we need you."

You look between them, surprised. They are rarely on the same side in the bedroom, one preferring to be rough while the other prefers to be soft. They switch off in these rolls, letting the other take control when they want to. Today, though, they seem to be on the same side, convinced you need them to remind you that they love you. Which, you suppose, you do. You've felt the opposite this week, something they've figured out.

"Okay" you whisper, stepping back towards them. They both smile at you, allowing you to slip back between them. You're leaning down, intent on resuming your kiss with Ingrid, but she stops you.

"Is this what you want, darling? We don't have to do anything, we can just cuddle and talk, if that's what you need." she says, stroking your cheek gently with the pads of her fingers.

"No," you say, breathless at the thought of them stopping. "No, I want you both, please,"

"You have us, niña bonita, always." Mapi promises, lips pressing lightly against your ear as she speaks. You shudder at the feeling. Ingrid's lips meet yours again, and she kisses you harder this time, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, tongue sliding aggressively into your mouth. She takes full control, running her hands up and down your sides. You pull away, reaching back for Mapi, and guiding them towards each other. They comply, lips finding each other in a hot and messy kiss. This is about you, yes, and there’s nothing more that you love than watching your girlfriends together. Watching them take each other apart. Unlike with you, Ingrid does not immediately dominate the kiss. Mapi's hand wraps lightly around Ingrid's throat, other arm possessively holding you against her, and Ingrid shudders, allowing Mapi to deepen the kiss.

You watch them for a couple minutes before you can't help the needy whimper slipping past your lips. They break away from the kiss at the sound of it, both turning to you, cheeks swollen and pupils dilated.

"Don't worry, beautiful girl, we haven't forgotten about you," Ingrid assures, voice deep and filled with arousal. "Let us take care of you, yes? You just relax, let us fuck that pretty pussy," she continues, tugging your pants down your legs. You nod, unable to form words. They both smirk at you, before Ingrid is tugging your top off, leaving you completely naked, and Mapi is darting off to the drawer where you keep the toys.

The Norwegian doesn't waste any time, guiding you onto your back on the bed, and settling in between your legs. Ingrid sighs at the sight of you, already wet and ready for her. She lazily strokes a finger up and down your center, smiling up at you. Mapi returns to the bed, in just a sports bra and shorts, strap and dildo in hand. She sets them on the bed, sitting down next to you. She spreads your legs farther for Ingrid.

"How does she look, princesa?" She asks Ingrid, hand stroking across your chest.

"So wet for us." Ingrid replies, before diving in, mouth attaching itself to your cunt. You let out a keening wine, back arching at first contact.

"Already making such pretty sounds for Ingrid, hmm?" Mapi hums, fingers moving to tweak your nipples. "You must have needed us so badly, bebé." Mapi say sympathetically.

"So bad, need you so bad," you reply, barely coherent as Ingrid's mouth works against you. Her tongue is dipping inside, pressing in and out of your entrance, nose rubbing just slightly against your clit. Your hands find their way into Ingrid's black hair, intertwining with the thick strands. Ingrid increases her pace, encouraged, and you're close embarrassingly fast. She moves her mouth, focusing her tongue on your clit, before taking it into her mouth and sucking.

"Fuck, Ingrid," you try to warn her, but your words are cut off as the waves of pleasure begin to increase in intensity.

"Are you gonna come already?" Mapi whispers in your ear, just a hint of teasing detectable in her voice. You can only nod, as Ingrid sucks harder on your clit, pushing you over the edge. Your legs clamp down on her head, and your whole body shudders as she works you through it. Mapi has attached her lips to your nipple, suckling lightly as you come down from your orgasm. You blink your eyes open after a minute, looking down to see Ingrid resting her face on your thigh, face smeared with your slick, lips upturned as she watches Mapi work at your chest.

Your orgasm has done very little to satisfy you, and you reach for Mapi almost desperately. She looks up as your hand tugs on her face insistently.

"Sí?" she asks, pretending to be exasperated at being taken away from one of her favorite activities.

"I need you," you whine, and Mapi takes pity on you, pulling away from your chest. She nods at Ingrid, and you are amazed at their ability to communicate, without words. Ingrid stands, tugging her clothes off, before climbing back to settle against the pillows. You're busy staring at her, at the way her fingers move down to lightly play with her own pussy, when Mapi pulls your legs, until they're hanging off the edge of the bed. She's strapped up, and she's peeling her bra off. Her breasts sit perkily, nipples pebbled, on her chest as she looks down at you hungrily. Ingrid has a perfect view of you both, you realize.

"You want my fingers first?" she asks, knowing that sometimes you enjoy the stretch of her cock in you, loving when she fucks you open, slow and steady. This is one of those times.

"No, please, your cock," you beg, gazing up at her with desire written clear across your face. Mapi smiles, before flipping you onto your stomach. Your legs hold you up, and your eyes meet Ingrid's, who is settled on the bed just a couple feet away from you. Her eyes are dark, trained on your ass pressing back into Mapi.

Mapi quickly covers the dildo in lube, before running it up and down your core teasingly. She presses into your hole achingly slowly, centimeter by centimeter. The stretch burns perfectly, and you grip the sheets in your hands, letting out a low groan at the feeling.

"How does she feel?" Ingrid husks, carefully watching Mapi as she teases her own entrance with one finger.

"So tight, so fucking perfect," Mapi grunts, pushing in further and further.

"And you elskling? How does María feel inside of you?" The Norwegian questions. Ingrid loves this, really loves this. Watching Mapi fuck you, making you both tell her how good the other feels.

"Perfect, she's perfect," you manage to stutter. Mapi speeds up then, bottoming out inside of you. Normally, this position is one in which Mapi rails you. It doesn't seem like that's her goal today, though, as she keeps her strokes deep and hard. She's hitting your spot with every stroke, hips audibly smacking into your ass.

"I want you to come with me, elskling, understand?" Ingrid questions, and you force your eyelids open. Ingrid is working two fingers in and out of herself, other hand playing with her clit. You nod, and Mapi speeds up, just slightly. Her hand is on your ass, then, and she's spreading your cheeks, finger stroking over your second hole. You've played around with anal before, but never spontaneously like this, and Mapi pauses, finger pressed lightly over your asshole, waiting for the go ahead.

"Yes?" she asks, leaning down to leave a kiss on your shoulder blade.

"Yes, jesus, yes Mapi," you moan, and she presses her finger into you, knuckle by knuckle. She moves it slowly, and you're tight enough that one finger is perfect. You feel her in your ass and in your pussy, and you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge. You're looking at Ingrid, who's fingers are fucking into herself fast, and you can tell she's close. She's letting out little moans, inhaling deep breaths. Behind you, Mapi is apparently close too, as she's now grinding the strap into you slightly, something you know she does when she's trying to get off.

"I'm close," you cry, "please, please can I come," you beg, and Ingrid bites her lip, watching as pleasure takes over your face, eyes shutting, mouth falling open as Mapi fucks you.

"Come." Ingrid says, and you do, walls tightening around Mapi's cock until she can barely move inside of you, finger in your ass stilling as well. Mapi presses in one final time, holding you tight against her as she comes too, with a long moan of your name. Ingrid finishes on her fingers, body jerking as she works herself through the aftershocks.

You're exhausted, whole body tingly, and you go limp on the mattress, breath stuttering. You whimper as Mapi pulls out and disappears into the bathroom. Ingrid pulls you up the bed, waiting until you come back down a little to hand you water. Mapi returns, 2 washcloths in hand to clean you both up, which she does with soft care, leaving light, loving kisses to each of your thighs and stomachs, finishing with a light peck to your lips.

Your head is empty, laying on your stomach on the bed, face turned towards Ingrid. You feel Mapi settle on your other side, and she presses up against you, nuzzling her nose into your neck. Ingrid slides down on your other side, hand cupping your cheek.

"You feel better?" she asks, and you know she doesn't mean physically.

"Yes." They'd successfully made you forget what you were upset about It seems ridiculous, suddenly, that you worried that either of them didn't want you around. "I love you both."

Both girls murmur the words back to you, and Ingrid tugs the covers up over your bodies. Your limbs are all tangled with each others and you don't know where you end, and they begin. It's always like this, after sex. You feel so connected to them, as they've reminded you that they know your body better than you do. It was exactly what you needed today, and you're even more reassured. They knew you didn't need to be punished, even though you were acting as you you were. They've made their care for you evident. You promise yourself that you'll never doubt it again.

-----

i’ve been writing this for so long you don’t know how happy i am for it to be done

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x ingrid engen #mapi leon x ingrid engen x reader

[himenarii]

I LOVE YOU JUST A LITTLE TOO MUCH ♡

 ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ pairing: yandere!blade x afab reader

❥ synopsis: drabble , you’re part of the Astral Express , Blade falls for you at first sight. a little bit too hard.

❥ warnings: smut. nsfw themes , bdsm , creampie , dubcon , noncon , overstimulating , pet play. also yandere themes , mentions of general stalking , blade is a handsome creep , minors dni!!

❥ make sure to check out my main , @kawanari

YANDERE BLADE is something you won’t want to know about , because he’s exceptionally good at covering up evidence that makes you think he’s someone that’s dangerous.

He first met you at the Xianzhou Luofu traveling with the Astral Express. After leaving the place , all he could think about was your wide , curious , and innocent eyes staring at him when he brandished his blade at your other peers.

Aeons , he was glad you didn’t notice his pants being strained by the arousal he felt. The moment he returned to the Stellaron Hunters’ base , he locked the door behind him and unbuckled his pants to free his aching dick. He’d start stroking himself , while thinking about your innocent little stare and how it would look like with his cum dripping all across your cute face. Moaning out your name , YANDERE BLADE spends the rest of his day jerking off to his fantasies.

YANDERE BLADE wanted to see you so much. So he goes to the Xianzhou Luofu and visits the hotel you stay in as soon as you leave the suite. How does he know which room you stay in , you may ask? It’s probably better to leave that secret.

He breathes in the air once he enters- it’s filled with your sweet scent. He roams around the room , then finds something sticking out of a drawer- he pulls it out to see your used white laced panties. Your sweet smell is thickly spread on it- he bites back his will to fuck himself on your panties right at the spot. He couldn’t risk himself , right? So he stuffs them into his pocket and tidies the room up. After he leaves , you never take a second look at the slightly open drawer.

However , masturbating on your fabric wasn’t enough for him. On a particularly horny day , YANDERE BLADE couldn’t help it- he wanted to see you at this instant. Since Kafka left a tracker on the Astral Express crew to track their location , it was easy for him to find where you were.

He quickly finds you by the end of the day , you’re sleeping sound in the Astral Express rooms. Just how did he get past all of your friends and Pom-Pom , you ask— he’s tied them up , and already put them into a container that’s going to be used later. At least he’s nice enough not to wake you up as he picks your body into his arms.

When you wake up , your hands are tied back with cuffs , naked , sitting on the floor with your legs spread open. Embarrassed and confused , you try to get up , but you’re glued to the spot by some ropes linked to your torso.

You’re scared. Where were you? It was too dark to make out anything except for the faint ray of light flickering between curtains. You look down to examine yourself instead to ease your anxiety , but you then notice your pussy was wet and leaking. White fluids were pooling near you , and you immediately pale.

That’s when YANDERE BLADE comes in , smirking at your confused and scared face.

“ Scared? ” his taunt makes you flush and your voice quivering , you demand him to let you go.

He’d be a fool to listen to your pleas.

“ You’re not going anywhere , ” his voice becomes darker , and you instinctively shrink away from him. You watch him , trembling in fear , as he tosses the belt holding his pants carelessly to your side. His dick springs out of the restraint , it’s girthy and practically huge , and it’s also leaking cum on the tip.

He’d slam in his cock into you without even a warm-up. The size difference makes you cry out and he ignores your crying and pounds into you like you’re his little toy , until he releases his hot , sticky cream to fill you to the brim.

That’s not enough for him. He’d keep going until his cum starts to ooze out of you- and he fucks it back in if that happens. You’re powerless against him , so you succumb to it. He will continue to fuck you senseless until he’s finally satisfied- which isn’t easy. Because he ‘ loves ’ you , and his sex drive is too high when it comes to you. He continues to release inside of you until you pass out of the overstimulation. That’s when he finally finishes.

Until at some point , YANDERE BLADE wants to see your reactions rather than satisfying himself. He would start growing more violent , from overstimulating to running his sword against your delicate skin , feeling a surge of ecstasy whenever you tremble and cry out of pain. It fucking makes him so hard just by seeing you bruised and broken. Because he’s a kinky sadist he will find every opportunity to hurt you just to see you shiver and cry.

After YANDERE BLADE fastens a pretty little pink collar with his name onto you , that’s when things are set. You wouldn’t be able to ever leave the room. Food? You’ll get it if he’s satisfied with your performance on his dick. He loves you , of course. Just a little too much , that he thinks the things he does to you are all ways of expressing his sickening love.

He’d order you to crawl on your knees , wearing only some white knee socks , your ass sticking up uncomfortably into the air. Seeing you crawl around like his little kitten- seeing you , his love , succumb.. the thought alone makes him erect.

Sometimes when he’s particularly busy , he’s going to give you little fun games. Great , right? If you could make him cum within a minute or two , you would get a ‘ reward. ’ Being the innocent being you were , you obey , and you succeed , so you stare up at him in hope. Maybe he would give you food.

But he doesn’t , of course. What you got in reward was to have him finger you. That was a reward , and your punishments were worse.

One day , you felt so burnt out because of the constant daily sex. So maybe your moaning was a little fake- but you can never fool Blade. He raises an eyebrow.

“ You think I wouldn’t notice that? How painfully cute of you. ”

He’d bring you a large container. Inside were your Astral Express friends , chained and starved. Your eyes widen and you beg him to let them go- if he did , you would do anything he told you to do. After constant begging , he tells you he would , so you breathe out in relief. But what he does is to murder all of them at the spot. You’re so traumatized and shocked that you pass out , and the next day , you remain quiet. All that remained was to just do what he said before you died yourself.

But if you’re being too uncooperative , he would show you the corpses of your friends. That’s enough to make you try to please him so you won’t have to see the traumatizing sight again.

He’d also tell you to call him master. Linking your collar to a long leash , YANDERE BLADE drags you out of his room- and you are so grateful of seeing the light alone , even in this state. But soon you realize maybe staying back in his room was a better idea. All the hunters passing by took a swift glance at your exposed pussy- but they don’t dare approach you , seeing your leash handle in YANDERE BLADE’s hand. He’s damn satisfied. This way , everyone will know , you belong to him.

#🎀 𝑒𝑔𝑜 #nari♡ #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #star rail smut #star rail x you #blade x reader #hsr blade #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #hsr blade smut

[pitinthelanepages]

La Route Vers Toi

summary: moments where charles leclerc found himself having questionable feelings for his best friend, you, since he was seventeen.

pairing: charles leclerc x best friend! reader

word count: 4.5k

genre: romance, angst, drama

a/n: please be aware that this piece of writing mentions death but it isn't the focus of the story. it is mentioned to show how the characters deal with loss and the grief and sadness that comes with it. if it's upsetting to you. i advise you not to read it. thank you!

gif credit to @countingstars-17

Charles was seventeen when he had realised something was awfully wrong with him. It was a Friday night, and he was sitting on the couch with his best friend, you, watching a low-budget Christmas movie. The main reason to do that was so that both of you could point out the mistakes and get a good laugh out of it. Just like how you did once in a while when you finally had free time.

However, on that particular night, his eyes kept wandering to you, who was sitting next to him with your legs tucked under you. He couldn't help but notice the way your long lashes brushed against your cheek when you laughed, or the way your full lips curled up in a smile.

It was then that he realised he had been feeling this way for a while. He had always thought you were beautiful, which, of course he would think because you were his best friend. He couldn’t just think you are not beautiful but now he found himself drawn to you in a way that he couldn't explain and now, it’s not out of the reason that you were his best friend. He just didn’t know what that meant, not yet.

He couldn't stop noticing the small things about you, like the way your jet black hair fell in soft waves around your face or the way you absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair around your finger.

As the movie continued, Charles found himself growing more and more restless. Instead of pointing at the screen of the TV before him and bursting out in laughter before saying something awfully mean about the movie, he went still, as if he was frozen. 

He tried to focus on the movie and ignore the flutter of his stomach when you placed a hand on his arm, but it was impossible. He found himself studying your hand instead, how it’s so much smaller than his. How it would fit perfectly in his-

A hand appeared in front of his eyes before he heard the fingers snap. “Charles? Are you even listening?” you asked, a frown taking over your features.

Charles snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at you. "Uh, sorry. What were you saying?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I said this is so bad it's good," you said with a chuckle, pointing at the screen.

"I can't believe they even made this," Charles replied, shaking his head in amusement but also relieved that he could finally distract himself from thinking about you.

"Look at that CGI," you pointed out as the poorly rendered reindeer flew across the screen. "It's like they didn't even try."

Charles snickered. "And the acting! It's like they picked up random people off the street and put them in the movie."

You couldn't help but giggle at his comment. "I bet we could do a better job than this."

"Definitely," Charles agreed, a mischievous glint in his eye. "We should make our own Christmas movie."

You couldn't help but grin at the idea. "With reindeer that actually look like reindeer?"

"And actors who can actually act," Charles added with a chuckle.

At one point, you paused the movie and got up to make some popcorn. Charles watched you as you moved around the kitchen, admiring the way you moved with such grace and ease.

When you returned with a bowl of popcorn, you plopped down on the couch next to him and resumed the movie.

As the movie went on, the jokes and laughter continued. Charles found himself feeling more and more comfortable in your presence, like he could truly be himself around you. He couldn't help but think about how lucky he was to have you in his life, as both his best friend and someone he was starting to feel more for.

Finally, the movie ended, and both of you collapsed on the couch in exhaustion from laughing so hard. Charles turned to you, a wide smile on his face.

"That was so bad," he said, shaking his head.

"I know, right? I can't believe we actually watched that," you replied, giggling.

Charles leaned in a little closer, feeling a rush of courage. "You know what wasn't bad though?" he asked, his eyes locking onto yours.

"What?" you asked, looking at him with a quizzical expression.

"This. Just hanging out with you. It's always the best part of my tiring weeks of training," he said, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

You smiled at him, and for a moment, Charles thought he saw something more in your expression. But before he could fully process it, you leaned in and gave him a warm hug.

"I feel the same way, Charles. You're the best friend I could ever ask for," you said, squeezing him tightly.

Charles felt a pang of disappointment, his face falling. But he pushed it aside, what mattered is having you beside him for now. The two of you stayed on the couch for a while longer, talking and laughing until the late hours of the night.

Charles was nineteen when he had lost the most important person in his life, his idol, his father. The world had come crashing down on him, leaving him in a sea of grief and sadness. It was as if someone had pulled the rug from under his feet, leaving him stumbling in the dark.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, but the pain never went away. To the world, he was a strong young boy who had won the Formula 2 race in Baku just four days after his father’s demise. However, the grief had become a part of him, a constant companion that he couldn't shake off. Everywhere he went, he saw reminders of his father. The sound of a car engine, the smell of gasoline, the sight of a racing track, all brought back memories of the times they had spent together.

Charles sat on his balcony, his eyes fixed on the distant skyline. The sun had just set, casting a golden glow across the city. He didn't move, didn't speak. He just sat there, lost in his thoughts.

As you approached him, you could see the sadness etched on his face. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he turned to look at you, his eyes red-rimmed from crying.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to be so distant."

You shook your head. "It's okay," you said, taking a seat beside him. "You don't have to apologise."

Charles sighed deeply, and you could feel the weight of his grief pressing down on him. "It's just...it's hard, you know? Losing someone you love."

You nodded, knowing that there were no words that could ease his pain. "I know. But you're not alone, Charles. I'm here for you."

He looked at you then, his eyes searching for something. "Thank you," he said softly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "You don't have to do anything alone. That's what friends are for."

Charles leaned his head back, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath. "I know," he said. "It's just...sometimes it feels like the weight of the world is on my shoulders."

You squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. "You don't have to carry that weight alone, Charles. I'm here for you, always."

He looked at you then, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you," he said again, his voice choked with emotion.

You sat there with him, the two of you watching the city lights twinkling in the distance. You knew that you couldn't take away his pain, but you could be there for him. And in that moment, that was enough.

In those dark moments, when Charles felt like he had no one left to support him, you were there. As his best friend, you stood by him through thick and thin, offering a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear whenever he needed it. You never judged him for his tears or his anger, but rather held him close and whispered words of comfort and encouragement.

It was in those moments that Charles realised just how important you were to him. You were his rock, his safe haven, his confidante. Without you, he didn't know how he would have made it through those dark days. You gave him hope and reminded him that he was not alone.

Charles is twenty-five years old and things aren't exactly going his way. Actually, things are only going downhill. The 2022 Formula 1 season started off well for him, but lately, everything seems to be going wrong. His car has been malfunctioning, and he's had to retire early from the last few races. His team wasn’t exactly the best at their job, in fact, they were nowhere near descent and his confidence is at an all-time low.

Adding insult to injury, his girlfriend recently broke up with him. They had been dating for a while, and Charles thought things were going well. But then things somehow didn’t work out for them. They were adults with two very different lives and priorities after all but Charles couldn’t help but be devastated. It’s like the world was punishing him for some godforsaken sin he had committed without knowing. 

He's been feeling lost and alone, with no one to turn to. You have been busy with your own life and job, and he doesn't want to burden you with his problems. But as he sits on his couch, staring blankly at the wall, he can't help but feel like he needs someone to talk to.

Just then, his phone buzzes. It's a text from you. "Hey, how are you doing?"

Charles hesitates for a moment before typing back, "Not great, to be honest. Can we talk?"

You reply immediately, "Of course. I'll be there in 20 minutes, let me finish this meeting."

And you do keep your word. You arrive at his apartment in about thirty minutes, the apartment door opening to reveal a Charles who has lost the glow of his face. You can sense the pain through his eyes. 

"Hey, what's going on?" You ask, concern evident on your face as you frown.

Charles takes a deep breath before starting to speak. "My season's going terribly. My car's malfunctioning, I keep crashing, and my girlfriend just broke up with me. I don't know what to do," he shrugs, doing a terrible job at playing nonchalant because you know him too well and can see through his facade before anyone else.

You nod, sighing. "I'm sorry, Charles. That must be a lot to handle." 

"I just feel so lost," Charles says, his voice cracking. "I thought things were going well, but now it feels like everything's falling apart."

Honestly you have a lot to say but Charles doesn’t seem to be in the mood to take advice so you place a hand on his shoulder, knowing what he needs at the moment is comfort. "I know it's tough, and what I am about to say is gonna sound toxic but you can't give up. You're a talented driver, and more than that, you have worked too hard to be where you are right now, Charles. You know I have witnessed you going through it all, don’t you?"

"But it feels like nothing's going my way," Charles says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so tired of all of this."

You look at him with concern. "Have you talked to anyone on your team? Maybe they can help you with your car."

Charles shakes his head. "I don't want to seem like I'm not capable of handling things on my own. Plus, they are the last people I would wanna talk to right now knowing how they’ve been recently." He mumbles, his head on his palm. 

"Charles, you don't have to do everything on your own," You say firmly. "It's okay to ask for help when you need it. You have people who care about you and want to see you succeed."

Charles looks at you, his face softening. "What would I do without you?"

You smile at him. "You don't have to worry about that. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Both of you sit there in silence for a few moments, with your arm around Charles' shoulder. The only sound is the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Finally, Charles speaks up again. "I'm sorry for burdening you with all of this. You have your own life and your own problems."

You sigh, here he goes again. “Charles, please. Why do you have to make things awkward by saying these, huh? I’m your best friend for a reason. Stop saying sorry,” You huff, looking annoyed to which he chuckles, his voice resonating in the living room of his quiet apartment. 

“There you go.” You say, smiling as you poke at one of his dimples. “Here is the actual Charles who is back.”

Charles rolls his eyes before pushing you by the shoulders, playfully. “You’re so cheesy, eww.”

Later that night, Charles lies in bed staring at the ceiling, his mind racing with thoughts. The conversation with you had helped him feel better, but it had also brought up some confusing feelings.

He has always known that he cares about you deeply. You have been best friends since forever, and you have been there for him through his good and bad times. But now, he wonders if there could be something more than just friendship between you two.

As he lies there, he can't help but wonder if you ever thought of this possibility. He has never been good at reading people, but he has always thought that there is something more between you two.

He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. This is not the time to be thinking about this. He has enough on his plate as it is.

But no matter how hard he tries, he can't shake the feeling that something has changed. He can't stop thinking about the way you had looked at him earlier, the concern evident in your eyes. He can't help but wonder if there is something more behind that concern.

He sighs, turning over onto his side. He knows he should talk to you about this, but he is scared of ruining the friendship you two have built over the years. He doesn't want to risk losing you, but at the same time, he can't keep these feelings bottled up inside forever.

As he drifts off to sleep, his mind still filled with thoughts of you, he knows that he will have to confront his feelings sooner or later. But for now, he will try to push them aside and focus on getting his life back on track.

Charles is sitting on his couch, lost in thought, when he hears a knock at his door. It's late, and he isn't expecting anyone, but he gets up to answer it anyway. As he opens the door, he sees you standing there, completely drenched from the rain, tears streaming down your face.

Despite the tears streaming down your face, Charles can't help but notice how beautiful you look in that moment. The rain has matted your hair to your face, your nose and lips are red and swollen. The vulnerability in your eyes makes his heart ache, and he wishes he could do something to take the pain away. He doesn’t remember the last time he has seen you like this before, so raw and exposed, and it makes him want to wrap his arms around you and hold you close.

Without a word, he pulls you inside and closes the door behind you. You collapse onto his couch, still crying, and Charles sits down next to you, unsure of what to say.

"Hey, it's okay," he says, brows pinched together in concern, placing a hand on your shoulder. "What happened? Why are you crying?"

You take a deep breath before answering. "It's him," you say, your voice shaking. "He's left me for another girl. I don't know what to do."

Charles feels a pang of anger and sadness for you. He knows how much you care for this guy and how much you have invested in the relationship. But he also knows that he hasn't been the best friend to you lately, too wrapped up in his own problems to notice yours.

"I'm so sorry," he says, squeezing your shoulder. "That's terrible. Do you want to talk about it?"

You nod, wiping away tears. "I just don't understand how he could do this to me. We were so good together. And now he's just gone, with someone else."

Charles listens as you talk, offering comfort and support where he can. As you speak, he realises how much he has taken you for granted as a friend. He has always known that you are there for him, but he has never fully appreciated just how much you have given to him.

He stares at you, noticing yet again how even with tears streaming down your face and your clothes drenched from the rain, you still look so breathtakingly beautiful. 

"I'm sorry," he interrupts you, voice laced with guilt. "I should have been there for you more. I've been so wrapped up in my own stuff that I haven't been a good friend to you. And that's not fair."

You look up at him, surprised by his words. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean it," Charles says, looking you in the eye. "I should have been there for you more. You've always been there for me, and I haven't done the same for you. And I'm sorry."

Tears well up in your eyes again.. "Thank you," you say, leaning into him for a hug. "I don’t think that’s true but saying that means a lot to me."

Charles wraps his arms around you, holding you close. In that moment, he realises that he doesn't just care about you as a friend. He cares about you as something more, something deeper. And as he holds you, he wonders if he will ever muster up the courage to tell you about it.

But for now, he will focus on being the friend you need. Because that's what you deserve, and that's what he should have been all along.

Charles doesn't know how to react when he finds his phone buzzing at the odd hour of 3 am. He rubs his eyes and squints at the caller ID. It’s you. He can’t help but frown. You have always been the more responsible one out of you two. What could have caused you to call him this late at night?

"Hello? Are you okay?" Charles asks, his voice deep and hoarse from sleep.

"Chaarlessss!" You slur into the phone. "Dude, I am at this stupid club… and I have no idea where the exit is," you giggle into the phone as if it’s something funny.

Charles’ brows pinch together in concern, his heart sinking at the sound of your voice. He can tell from the background noise that you are drunk at a club and making little sense.

"Okay, turn on your location so I can come find you," he says patiently, trying not to sound disappointed. How down bad did you have to be for a man to react like this? He can’t help but let the wave of sadness wash over him. You must’ve liked the guy a lot.

You do as you are told, and Charles quickly gets dressed and heads out to the club. When he arrives, he can hear the thumping bass from outside. He soon finds you sitting slumped against a wall, looking lost and dishevelled. And yet at a time like this, he can’t help but notice how pretty you look, even in your current state. Your hair is a mess, but your eyes glimmer in the dim light of the club.

"Hey," he whispers, gaze softening, kneeling down next to you. "Let's get you out of here."

He helps you up and leads you out of the club, shielding you from the flashing lights and thumping music. He carries you in his arms at one point to settle you into the passenger’s seat safely, and gets into his Ferrari before speeding back to his apartment.

You are still talking nonsensically, but Charles tries to listen only to fail because he can’t understand a single word coming out of your mouth. His chest feels tight at witnessing the person who usually gave him words of encouragement and strength, being a mess herself.

Once he arrives outside his apartment, he turns to find your eyes barely open. "Hey," he says, nudging you gently. "You alright?"

You mumble something incoherent again as your eyes are unfocused. Charles sighs, realising he has to carry you again.

"Come on," he whispers, crouching down beside you. "Let's get you to bed."

You don’t seem to have the energy to protest as Charles carefully lifts you into his arms. He can feel the weight of your body against his chest, and he adjusts his grip to make sure you are comfortable. He walks to his apartment with calculated steps and then to his bedroom, being careful not to jostle you too much. You lean against his chest, your head lolling to the side during the process of him carrying you.

Once he arrives in his bedroom, he carefully sets you down on the edge of the bed as he kneels down in front of you before gently beginning to remove your shoes, one at a time. He can see that you are struggling to keep your eyes open, and he knows that you could fall asleep any moment.

With your shoes off, Charles stands up to run his fingers through your hair in an attempt to untangle the mess. He has known you for long enough to know you are a control freak who would hate waking up with tangled hair, and he wants to make sure you are comfortable. He can feel the softness of your hair against his fingers as he gently brushes through the knots.

Finally, when your hair is smooth and soft, Charles gently guides you back onto the bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You look up at him with bleary eyes, a small smile on your face.

"Thanks." you hum, before your eyes close.

As he is about to leave, he feels a hand wrap around his wrist. He turns to find you looking up at him, a sad smile playing on your lips as you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

"He told me I have been in love with you and not with him, that I don't know," you mumble, your words slurring together.

Charles's heart skips a beat as he stares at you, frozen in disbelief. He has always suspected that his feelings for you ran deeper than just friendship, but he has never allowed himself to entertain the thought that you might feel the same way about him.

"What?" he whispers, leaning in closer to hear you better.

Your eyes turn glassy with tears as you shake your head slightly. "Do you know how mad I was? I was more mad than upset because I knew he was right the moment he said those words. Him leaving me for another woman feels deserving," you say, your voice filled with emotion.

"Hey, it's okay," he says softly, reaching out to wipe away your tears with his thumb. "You don't have to worry about him anymore. You're here, with me."

You look up at him, your eyes shining in the dim light of the room. You reach out and touch his cheek, your fingers warm against his skin.

"I know," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "And I'm glad I am."

A warm sensation spreads through his chest. He can’t believe that this moment is finally happening, and he wants to savour every second of it.

"Me too," he whispers, kneeling down before he runs his hand through your hair gently. He contemplates for a moment as he stares at your long lashes to your plump lips, wondering if he should kiss you or not.

“What?” you frown, pouting your lips in the process. “I know what you’re thinking. What’s stopping you?”

He smirks, amused at your growing confidence. “That you’re drunk…? And that, you might not remem-”

“Shhh. I am drunk enough to confess but not drunk enough to forget all of this by tomorrow. This is done purposefully for a reason,” you place a finger on his lips while winking at him. 

He gasps, “Oh wow! Amazing! Elaborate what that means or you’re not getting the kiss.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re so annoying. What I mean is that I knew I would never have the courage to confess to you unless I am drunk but not blackout drunk so that I’d forget everything by the time I wake up. Happy? Or do you want me to say I love you again?”.

Without hesitation, Charles takes your face in his hands and leans in to kiss you. His lips soft and tender against yours. He can feel you responding eagerly to his kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

Your tongues tangle as his hands slide down to your waist, pulling your body against his. He can feel your curves press against him, and he savours the sensation of your warmth and softness.

As you kiss, Charles can’t help but feel like he is finally where he belongs. He has spent so many years pining for you withouting even knowing, hoping and praying that you would one day see him the way he sees you. And now that you have, Charles feels like he is on top of the world.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth, and he feels you moan softly in response. The sound sends shivers down his spine, and he knows that he never wants this moment to end.

But eventually, you pull away, your breaths coming in short gasps. Charles gazes down at you, his eyes sparkling with love and desire.

"I never want to let you go," he whispers, his voice husky with emotion.

You smile up at him, eyes crinkling to signal how happy you are. "You don't have to," you reply, your hands still resting on his shoulders.

Charles leans down to kiss you again, his lips tracing a path down your neck as feels you shudder. You have waited so long for this moment, and now that it is here, Charles knows that he is never going to let it slip away.

#f1 x reader #f1 writing #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic

[silverwhittlingknife]

snippet

“Nobody is going to die here,” Dick says, trying to project a confidence he doesn’t feel.

If this were the Titans, he’d probably get some acknowledgement.  Titans together.  A clap on the shoulder.  Something.  But it’s not the Titans, so instead Cass Cain flicks a glance at him and then goes back to scowling at the wall, and Jason says, “Would you fucking quit it with the inspirational speeches, leader-boy?” and Tim says, “I think we should prioritize getting Dick out,” as if Dick isn’t even here.

“I’m fine,” Dick says.  Because he is. Mostly.  It’s not like it’s exactly fun to get whipped and then tied to an ominous black altar in a room with no obvious doors after successfully talking a cult into deciding you’re the optimum sacrifice of their four captives.  But it’s certainly better than the alternative scenario in which the Dark Leader Whatsisface had listened to Tim’s pitch.

“Weakness in the wall,” Cass says.  “…Here.”

“Yeah, weak walls would be great, if we had C4,” Jason says.  “Except for the part where we don’t have C4, because somebody took my stash and my helmet.  Some fucking insufferable team of fucking idiots who like to mind everybody else’s business—”

“Kick, maybe,” Cass says to Tim, who’s still trying to pick the lock on one of Dick’s manacles.

Tim frowns.  “I don’t think even you can kick a wall hard enough to—”

“Not… the wall.  Kick him,” Cass says, nodding at Jason.

“Oh fuck you very much,” Jason says, with more heat than Dick expects.  Jason’s edgy, beneath all the bluffing, and it’s hard to tell why, because although the situation admittedly isn’t great the countdown timer still has half an hour to go before the cult starts punching whatever buttons outside the room that will set Dick on fire—or get him eaten by a dragon, it hadn’t been very clear through the chanting.

Anyway.  They have time, even if Cass’s shoulders are tense and Tim’s face is strained and Dick’s back is killing him—they strapped him with his back down after the beating, and he’s trying not to think about the likelihood of blood stains on this altar thing—and the sweat from the heat is getting in his eyes.

A hand.  Tim’s wiped the sweat away, which is both a comfort and kind of humiliating.  Tim’s lips are pinched—he’s furious at Dick, it’s obvious, only not acting on it because they’re in front of Jason and Tim, at least, understands the importance of presenting a united front.  So it’ll be a fight, once they get out, but Dick’s not sorry.  If he’s totally honest, he’s a little angry himself.  Trust me, Tim had muttered, when they all first got grabbed, and then he’d raised his voice and asked to speak privately to the leader, and Dick only realized too late what he’d been after, when the cultists came back and explained how Red Robin was going to be their sacrifice to the dragon-god and everyone else could live and watch in order to marvel at their lord’s demonic glory or whatever.

“Cass, listen,” Tim says.  "I think if you help me with the manacles—”

“No,” Cass says.  Tim’s been trying to get her to come back to the altar to mess with Dick’s bindings; Cass has been ignoring him.  A splinter in an otherwise seamless partnership.

"If you put pressure on the other side while I pick the lock," Tim says.

"No," Cass snaps. Cass doesn’t believe in united fronts, Jason or no Jason—Dick should know, she once threw him into a wall—but Dick doesn’t think she’s actually mad at Tim, just impatient.  “Manacles broken, not broken… doesn’t matter. No good if we’re still here.  Need to get out.  Then Nightwing.”

“I vote we leave him here, actually,” Jason says.  

“Jason, shut up,” Tim says.

“What, is this suddenly not a democracy? Do I not have the right to an opinion? Are you against voting, Replacement?”

#dick you're lying to yourself it would've been even worse with the titans #my fic #i have no idea where this is going i just had it in my head and needed to get it out #dick grayson #tim drake #cassandra cain #jason todd