#I feel like a weight has been taken off my shoulders

[uluvjay]

Thighs-M. Verstappen

Max Verstappen x fem! reader

In which Max always catches you staring at his thighs and finally does something about it

Warnings?; smut, thigh riding, cursing, kissing, pet names, slight degradation, slight overstimulation, i apologize for any errors I missed!

It was no secret that max had nice thighs, and it was no secret to your boyfriend how attracted you were to his thighs.

The Dutchman had caught you staring at them on multiple occasions yet any time he’d lock eyes with you, your head was snapping in the opposite direction with a growing blush on your cheeks.

However lately he’s caught your eyes locked on them a bit more than usual and since you weren’t going to do anything about, he would.

He had planned a nice dinner for the two of you, not giving you many details besides to keep it casual and to be ready by seven.

“Almost ready Schat?” He questioned as he passed by your vanity on the way to your walk in closet.

“Mhm, just have to get dressed.” You smiled up at him, head tipping back to rest on his stomach as he was stood behind your seated form.

“Me too.” He smiled back, leaning down to place a kiss to your hair before heading to the closet.

He had already seen your outfit laid out on the bed, a smirk forming on his face as he pulled out his own clothes but more importantly the jeans that were a bit tight around his thighs and always had your eyes locked on the thick muscles.

He hadn’t realized how long he had taken until you were calling out for him and asking if he was ready.

“Yeah I’m ready.” He called back, sliding on his shoes and pulling one of his jackets from a hanger.

He smiled as he exited the closet to find you stood in front of your floor to ceiling mirror touching up your lipgloss, dressed in jeans similar to his, a nice black sweater, heels, and the purse he’d gotten you for your birthday.

“You look gorgeous baby.” He praised.

“Thank you.” You blushed turning to face him.

Max smirked at your sharp intake of air as your eyes raked over his body, stopping at the denim that hugged his thighs.

“Everything okay Schat?”

“Huh?-oh um yeah.” You blushed, “You look very handsome.” You said smiling as you made way to him and placed a soft kiss to his lips.

You may have did your best to cover up the lust in your eyes but max had already caught the little sparkle.

“We better get going before we’re late.” You spoke up before turning around and heading downstairs.

The ride to the restaurant was tense to say the least, you could feel the desire growing in your stomach and the dull throb beginning between your legs.

Taking glances at Maxes thighs every chance you got, eyes lingering on them a bit too much and getting caught multiple times in the process.

Getting out of the tight sports car felt like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders and thankfully you and max had been sat across from one another allowing the dinner to be relaxing however, the throbbing in between your thighs never seemed to disappear.

The ride home was a bit better than before, you being able to calm yourself down and force the sinful thoughts of riding your boyfriends thighs until you physically couldn’t go anymore to the back of your mind.

Max walked into your shared apartment first, greeting your screaming cats first before they moved onto you, rubbing their soft bodies against your legs.

“Hi my babies.” You greeted the bengals.

You moved to set your purse down on the entryway table, kicking off your tight heels with a sigh of relief

“Baby?” Max called, “can you come here for a second?”

You followed his voice into the living room, stopping in the doorway as you found his legs spread wide, jacket thrown on the opposite side of the couch while he looked at you with an evil smirk.

“Y-yeah?” You questioned.

“Come here” he spoke softly but you could hear his lustful rasp hidden below.

You made your way to stand in between his still spread legs, a gasp escaping you as his large hands reached for the button and zipper of your jeans.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking care of something.” He mumbled, eyes not bothering to look up as he pulled the denim down your legs revealing you dark blue thong.

He reached a hand out instinctively as you stepped out of your jeans before pulling you down on top of him by the hand you had placed in his for balance.

He positioned your body to rest over one of his thighs, a cocky smirk forming at the way you whimpered when your lace covered cunt came into contact with it.

“Max what’s going on?” You questioned your boyfriend once again.

“You’re going to ride my thigh until you cum, I’ve seen the way you look at them baby, I know you want to do it.”

You couldn’t help the moan that bubbled out at his words, he knew you better than you knew yourself at this point, always knowing exactly what you wanted or needed without you even having to vocalize it.

“Bu-“

“No buts Schat, now be a good girl and get yourself off on my thigh.” He instructed as he leaned back into the couch, strong arms spreading along the back of the couch.

You did as you were told, allowing your aching and dripping cunt to begin moving back and forth starting with a small momentum.

However that didn’t last for long as the new sense of pleasure took over your body and soon your hips were moving shamelessly as you humped your boyfriend’s thigh.

Max was truly struggling to control himself, watching as whimpered on top of him, the wet spot that had formed below you no doubt ruining his jeans but he could care less.

Not when your head was thrown back in pure ecstasy, and your freshly manicured nails began to claw at his expensive shirt.

“Doing so good Baby..this is what you’ve been wanting right? To hump my thigh like a little bitch in heat?” He taunted.

You hated how your pussy clenched at his dirty words, but after all it was the truth.

“Yes, fuck yes max..feels so good.” You whined, opening your eyes to stare down into his blue ones.

That’s when he snapped, one of his hands coming to tangle in your hair before tugging you down and slamming his lips against yours in a hot kiss.

His tongue pushed its way into your mouth, leaving you no room to protest as his mouth dominated yours leaving you breathless on top of him.

You were both panting by the time he pulled away, his lips trailing down your throat as he left wet kisses around your skin followed by small nips.

“max I’m getting close.” You breathed, hips beginning to stutter as you could feel the fire in your lower stomach intensifying.

“Yeah? Gonna come for me pretty girl?”

“Fuck!..yes max, so close.” You cried loudly hips noticeably slowing as you did your best to keep up with your previous pace and the overpowering pleasure taking over your body.

Max dropped his hands to your hips, holding on tight at he guided your body over the thick muscle, repeatedly clenching and unclenching it to add more pressure to your sensitive cunt.

You cried out as your high overtook your body, mind going fuzzy as you slumped against max, thighs and body shaking as he continued working you through your high.

You whimpered into his neck as he slowly brought his movements to an end, finally stopping when your hand shot out to grip his wrist and a pathetic whimper fell from your mouth.

“I know baby, I know..did so good for me.” He praised as he placed kissed to the side of your head, holing your panting body close to his strong one.

You two sat like that for awhile until you finally pulled yourself away from his chest and pulled him into a slow and loving kiss, thanking him for giving you what you needed.

“That was so good.” You mumbled against his lips before pulled away.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nodded bashfully, a deep blush growing on your lips.

“Could have done it a long time ago if you would’ve just asked instead of hiding it.” He spoke softly reaching a hand up to stroke your cheek, his heart warming as you leaned into his palm.

“I know..but something tells me we’ll be doing it quite often now.” You smirked.

“Oh will we?” He smirked right back, his lustful gaze quickly returning.

“We most certainly will be.” You giggled, dipping down to pull him into a hot kiss.

-

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #max verstappen #max verstappen x y/n #formula one smut #formula one fluff #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Six - Splendid

♡♡♡

"Eloise Bridgerton."

Benedict calls his sister when he finds her smoking on the swing set in their garden. He sounded stern, as if scolding her.

Eloise groans softly as she turns on the swing. "Go on, then." She lifts the cigarette to her lips. "Chastise me."

"Spare one for me?" He asks.

Eloise is surprised by his question. He comes and sits on the other swing beside her. She holds a cigarette out to him, and he takes it, putting it between his lips and lighting it.

"Suppose I desire something different." Eloise says.

"How do you mean?"

"Just different. I watch Daphne prepare for these balls with all of those dresses and the many suitors, and I am exhausted. Suppose I want a different life, Benedict. That I truly believe I am quite capable of something more, even when I'm not allowed to have anything else."

"Then I would say... that you're not the only one." He looks at her. They smile at each other.

♡♡♡

With the next edition of Whistledown comes fascinating gossip. You find yourself, for once, clutching the paper with the need to read more.

It has become apparent that Lord Berbrooke has a child out of wedlock, and not only that, with a maid he had sent away before the child was even born. He pays nothing for the child, it seems.

Your mother had been gossiping about with the other ladies she had over for afternoon tea. In turn, their maids had gone off to gossip further.

Word spread like wildfire.

The next day, Lord Berbrooke had left town suddenly.

You made it a point to go visit Daphne. You were taken up to the drawing room where she awaited you, a smile on her face as you came in.

"It's nice of you to visit."

You take a seat with her. "I wanted to see how you were."

"I have expected you come see my brother," she admits.

"Benedict? As much as he has become my friend, I felt the need to come see you. Are you alright?"

"I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders." She smiles softly. "I am glad he is gone."

"As am I. Wretched man, he was."

You both giggle softly.

"So, the duke? He is still on your favour?" You ask.

Daphne goes silent for a moment, and then her face twitches. A realisation. The realisation she must still pretend.

"Ah, yes." She smiles.

You smile in return and take her hand. "You make a most handsome couple."

"Thank you." Her voice wavers.

You do not bring up Hastings or Berbrooke again as you have tea with Daphne. The conversation becomes pleasant. Daphne finds herself talking to you about anything that comes to mind. Not once has any of her siblings sat down and listened to her like this.

It felt nice. Really nice.

An hour passes, and you find the teapot has been emptied twice in that time. There are no more biscuits to share either. You rise from the soft sofa and gather you purse.

"Thank you for letting me visit."

"Oh, nonsense. You are always welcome." Daphne smiles.

"I shall visit again then."

Daphne looks pleased by your words.

"Benedict will be so disappointed you came by and didn't stop to see him."

You chuckle. "Let him suffer. It may humble him."

Daphne chuckles and sees you out.

♡♡♡

The next ball is as dazzling as the others. You swear with each one, Daphne gets more and more beautiful. She enters with the Duke. Of course, everyone sees.

You entered with your mother, no one paying you any mind what so ever. Not that you minded any more. You had come to terms that no one would visit you.

As Simon and Daphne dance, you decide to take a walk. You have no idea what it is they discuss when alone together.

You keep your eyes peeled for any familiar faces. Yet, no one else is present in this current room.

Meanwhile, Daphne parts from Simon and is approached by another gentleman. Her wish to find a husband and have a family may very well come true.

As you enter the next room, you find Anthony in there talking with some others. His gaze lands on you, and he excuses himself from the current conversation. He approaches you.

You smile and bow your head. "Lord Bridgerton."

"Anthony, please. You call my brothers by their name."

You smile. "Anthony."

"Benedict isn't here, I'm afraid. He has elected to sit this one out. May I have the honour?" He holds out his hand.

You take a moment to take in his request. Anthony was head of his family. A viscount. Dancing with him would surely bring you attention.

You place your hand in his. "You may."

Anthony takes you back into the other room and leads you to the dance floor. He holds you as a gentleman should while dancing with a lady. You both move with the music.

Anthony look very firm as he dances with you.

"I must say, this is an honour."

"Is it?" He asks.

"I never see you dance."

"No. I suppose not. I am not beyond dancing with friends." He says kindly.

"Then I am even more so honoured to be considered such."

You both continue dancing until the music ends. You curtsy, he bows. Anthony takes your hand and leads you back to the side of the room. With swift ease, he marks his name down on your dance card.

"I shall see to it you are never left without a dance partner, my lady," he says with a bow.

You smile.

As Anthony returns to the party, you find yourself now being looked at by others. There are gentlemen looking your way.

Could it be true that Daphne is not the only one who can shine?

Soon, you are dancing again, and a few more names are scribbled across your dance card.

You think, perhaps, Daphne Bridgerton is your good luck charm.

It makes you giddy.

Safe to say, your night was splendid indeed.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy -

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

[honeyed-cherries]

just spent half of my day hunting down social media accounts tied to my name and deleting them :) now when i look up my name i just see other people with similar names

#feelsgoodman #started using social media in middle school #stopped using it when i was 21 #and after a year of not touching any of those accounts #i’ve deleted everything at 22 #literally feels like a weight has been taken off of my shoulders #<3

[reeeallygood]

.

#I finally had a breakthrough with my project at woek #and I legit feel like I’m going to cry #both out of relief and pure exhaustion #I’ve spent so long feeling extreme anxiety about this not working #I was literally so worried about it all weekend #so I’m about to go hide in the bathroom and have a little cry about it #I feel like such a massive weight has been taken off of my shoulders

[marvelsswansong]

show and tell

summary: a white rose at the train station. his hand in yours at the zoo. his mother's golden mirror. does he love you or is he simply trying to gain the public's favour and secure the Plith prize? you're unsure. and so is he, until he very much isn't.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, slow burn (ish), fluff, angst, technically a happy ending but quite dark, purely based off the movie but I take some creative detours, CW for violence, mentions of starvation, toxic/manipulative behaviors and a semi-dark!snow (please read at your own discretion, take care of yourself above all else :))

☆ word count: 5.6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Coriolanus hates waiting. 

The stillness, the eerie silence of an early morning at the Capitol train station. It eats away at his core.

His mouth tastes like copper, his throat's starting to itch from the dryness and there's a brief moment of fear as he ponders if he's making a huge mistake. A sharp whistle ringing through the station signals the train's arrival, and as his eyes adjust to the billowing grey smoke and a sea of white (the peace keepers), the flower in his left hand suddenly feels heavy. As if the weight of the situation is starting to bear on his shoulders.

He wasn't supposed to be here. If all had gone to plan, he would've already been the recipient of the Plinth Prize and taken the first car back home to buy his grandma'am some chocolates and Tigris a new dress. No more worrying. No more surviving on dwindled fortunes. No more pretending to fit in with high society. 

Then, of course, the rules had to change. Viewership was down and it was of both Dean Highbottom's and Dr Gaul's opinion that what was missing was spectacle. Now, whoever the best mentor was in transforming their tribute into prime entertainment would win the prize. 

"Your role is to turn these tributes into spectacles. Not survivors." 

The silence that hung after this announcement in the Academy was heavy, but Coriolanus knew better than to show his true emotions on his face. After all, if there was one thing that he knew how to do as the star student of the Academy: it was to plan. And when he saw your... unruly introduction to the public, sneaking a snake down a woman's dress before cussing out the audience, it dawned on him that it would be a tall order to endear you to the public.

But not impossible.

The sounds of the tributes being roughly unloaded off the platform snaps him back into reality, his eyes easily landing on your figure as you jump off the train, your upper arms supported by the tribute (Jessup, Coriolanus recalls his name being) standing next to you. Pushing through the soldiers, the blonde nearly breaks into a small sprint to catch up to you as you turn your head upon hearing the sound of hurried footsteps.

"Welcome to the Capitol." the strange man in front of you says, before holding out a pristine white rose. It's a peculiar looking flower, you think, a kind of flower you've never seen before (at least, certainly not back in your home district). It looks almost artificial, you think, with how perfectly white and untouched its petals are.

The blonde assesses your cautious glance - the sunlight hitting the under color of your irises perfectly in a glistening twilight - and a fleeting thought passes by, that the tv camera didn't do your natural beauty justice. He has to suppress a smirk when you finally respond, narrowing your eyes at him with your arms crossing above your chest.

"You seem like you shouldn't be here."

He chuckles at that.

"I'm not supposed to be. And yet here I am." A pause. "But I'm your mentor. Coriolanus Snow."

That's a first, you think. Mentors for tributes. 

"And what does my mentor do except bring me roses?" you question, flicking the buds with your fingers. Coriolanus just smiles. 

"I do my best to take care of you." 

Your supposed mentor says it so sincerely, you think, and he's obviously charming with his devilishly handsome looks and low whisper. But there's something that stops you from holding out your hand and taking the rose from his fingers. You suppose he isn't lying - after all, what would be the point of it - but there's something in his eyes that you can't quite explain. 

Something that makes your stomach flutter in both excitement and dread.

"Move." the soldier behind you then barks, shoving you and Jessup forward. You decide to give your mentor one last grin and a quiet "see you later", thinking that's going to be the last you see of him for a while.

The last thing you expect is for him to jump into the back of the vehicle alongside the other tributes, drawing the eyre of a few who pin him against the moving vehicle and start taunting him with violence. 

"You look rather out of place." the tall boy pinning Coriolanus drawls.

"I'm not, I can assure you. I'm here for (Y/n). I'm her mentor." 

That puts the unwanted attention on you, as the other tributes begin to circle around you with sinister expressions twisting on their lips.

"Mentor, huh? How come little miss music gets one but not the rest of us?" a brunette girl drawls, eyeing you up and down.

The boy pinning Coriolanus down applies stronger pressure to his neck, and you rise in an attempt to intervene, but he meets your gaze discreetly and motions for you to remain seated. 

"You all have a mentor, they're just... not here." he croaks. 

"Right, and we're all supposed to believe you?" another girl, this one from district 4 you believe, taunts. "What's to say we shouldn't just kill you now?" 

The blonde shoots you a nervous look and that's when you feel pity. Just like you, he's in a foreign environment and pretending to be brave. You suppose also that he's your only ticket out, your only chance of potential success at surviving in the games.

So you intervene.

"You could kill him. But then the moment this truck stops you'll all be gathered round and killed by the peace keepers. He's clearly Capitol. And if they're willing to hang District people simply for stealing, can't imagine what killing a member of the Capitol would mean for punishment." 

That scares them off and Coriolanus sits down next to you, breathing heavily in an effort to catch his breath, before quietly thanking you.

"You really wanna thank me?" you quirk, leaning over to whisper in his ear. "Start by thinking about how I can actually win." 

The truck then suddenly comes to a halt, and the next thing you know the truck is being tipped over and the doors fly open. Coriolanus grasps your arm in lightning speed, pulling you close towards him so that he'd hit the harsh ground first, absorbing most of the impact.

When you shakily stand up on your feet, you realize you're enclosed in a large metal cage akin to that of an animal enclosure. There's even an over enthusiastic TV presenter in the background, who now seems to have noticed your mentor and begins to call out to him.

"Where are we?" you breathe out, already shivering from the autumn cold.

The blonde barely shifts, only dusting off his suit in a calm manner.

"(Y/n) (L/n) from District 12, welcome to the Capitol Zoo. Would you like to meet my neighbors?" he jokes, eyes slyly shifting to the right to refer to the small audience that has now gathered around the TV presenter. 

You hesitate, but then he takes your right hand in his before leaning over to whisper in your ear.

"You want to win, right? Good. I'd like to win as well. And the first thing you'll need to do? Perform for the cameras." Coriolanus accentuates the end of his sentence by sliding the rose behind your ear, a gesture which draws an excited reaction from the crowd.

Is your mentor doing it for the cameras or for something else? You're unsure. But given your desperation to win, and the fact that he clearly knows more about the games than you do, you decide to play along.

Warm hands twisting in the cold, Coriolanus drags your enjoined hands towards the TV camera as he does what he does best. Lie, smile, and charm the audience. Even when the attention turns to you, as Lucky Flickerman (that's his name, you learn) directs questions towards you, the blonde never lets go of your hand in his.

Before he leaves, as news of his rule-breaking spreads amongst the members of the public, you grab him out of desperation one last time.

"Please get us some food, we've been starving since the Reaping."

The blonde nods, but you can't help but feel anxious: not knowing if his previous gestures of kindness were just for show. 

-------------------------------

"Who's that for?"

Coriolanus had meant to sneak the sandwiches and cookies into his spare napkin discreetly, but of course Clemensia had to be two steps behind him, interrogating his every move. 

"Just not very hungry, that's all." he nearly grits through his teeth, forcing a fake smile.

The dark haired girl chuckles at that, shaking her head sideways.

"You don't have to lie to me, Snow. Especially me."

"... It's for (Y/n)." he quietly admits. She hums at that, picking at her own food from across the table.

"That's awfully nice of you. What, already going soft for some girl you met yesterday?" she teases, and it immediately elicits an angry refusal out of him.

"It's not like that." Coriolanus snaps, his sudden harshness making his classmate flinch in surprise. "I just... can't have her dying before the games even begin because she's not as well fed as the others." 

Clemensia scoffs, flicking the rest of her orange peel into the trash.

"Honestly, Snow, I don't know why you bother. She's clearly not going to survive. I mean, have you seen the tributes from districts 1 and 3?"

Ignoring her comments, he wordlessly slips away from the table and hails a ride down to the zoo. News of his intentions travels fast and whilst he doesn't mind Sejanus' company, it takes intense effort to force himself to look away from Arachne when she tags along and decides to taunt a caged tribute with a glass bottle. 

"You came back." you mutter, staring at the neatly wrapped napkin in disbelief. Coriolanus dislikes how surprised you sound, then hates himself more for caring about what you think. 

Why do you care what she thinks? he scolds himself. She's just a tribute you're mentoring.

"Of course I did. Can't have my tribute dying before the games even begin, now can I?" he teases, feigning nonchalant. 

The presence of academy mentors seems to have attracted a crowd, with a few photographers even pointing their lenses towards you and Coriolanus as his hand slips through the metal gates to meet yours to hand off the food. When your fingers touch his, a part of you wonders if he would've ever came back if there was no PR involved.

Too grateful and too hungry to care, you just say thank you, before breaking off a piece for Jessup and offering half a sandwich to your mentor.

"Oh no, I'm not hungry." he says out of instinct, surprised by your offering. You raise your eyebrows in response, pursing your lips.

"You sure about that? Because I could hear your stomach growl from a mile away." you retort. 

"Right. Uh, thank you." 

Biting into the soft bread, you chew, savoring every bite. A silence settles between the two of you as you both eat, right before you ask him a quiet question.

"... Did you get into a lot of trouble for what you did for me yesterday?" your eyes shine with worry, you nervously looking up at him for an answer. He finds himself again surprised by how much you seem to care. 

Yes, he wants to say. I nearly got myself disqualified as a mentor and it would've been the end of my family's future in the Capitol. But he swallows his thoughts down, alongside the dry taste of the tuna sandwich.

"Not much. Actually, I was able to convince the gamemaster, Dr Gaul, to implement a few changes to the games."

"Really, like what?"

"To let the public send you donations. That way, I could send you supplies you needed into the arena - food, water, medicine. It'd mean having to do the extra job of playing to the public and getting them to root for your survival, but with a voice like yours, the songbird of Panem -"

Your smile drops at that, your gaze turning stern at his suggestion.

"I only sing when I please for an audience I choose." your eyebrows furrow, your usually sweet expression melting into something more sour. It's oddly cute, he thinks. 

"I know, but I'm really going to need you to try. It's for your own survival. Our survival." he emphasizes, staring right into your eyes. You can't suppress your sad smile at that, crumbling the empty napkin in your hands.

"Are you sure it's not just for your survival?"

Your question haunts Coriolanus that night, alongside the sounds of broken glass and pained gasps as Arachne lies bleeding on the ground, having been stabbed in the neck by one of the tributes. When he quickly runs to his classmate, he doesn't get to see your expression, as you're ripped away by Jessup pulling you into safety in an instant and peace keepers swarm the scene in an effort to remain calm.

When he's back home and the crimson blood coating his hands have dried from where he was holding his dying classmate's wounds, he wonders if there's any truth to your answer.

-------------------------------

Everything changes at the arena tour.

You've not had much sleep. You're confused, you're angry, but most of all you've been haunted by your conflicting feelings towards your mentor and the name he'd called you - songbird. A silly little songbird, you think spitefully. 

To sing and charm the very same public who had doomed her to a violent game of death. 

It was absurd, really, that he'd even ask that. It made your stomach churn and your head ache at the thought of cheapening your craft for something so juvenile.

And yet, when you spot the familiar red suit and white blonde hair in the mass of other mentors at the arena, you can't help but feel warmth in your chest and stomach. A part of you even feels lucky, given that the other mentors seem to waste their time insulting their tributes or being too afraid to talk to them. Whilst Coriolanus, on the other hand, seems to be full of ideas to ensure your survival.

"The game master liked my suggestions. So the donations system is going to be implemented, with a broadcast beforehand for the tributes to get a chance to endear themselves to the public for donations." He's speaking so fast that you almost think he enjoys explaining the games to you. "Now what this means is that assuming you get enough donations, when the bell goes off, you don't go for the weapons. You don't fight. You just run as fast as you can, hide and stay alive for as long as you can." 

"How can you even be sure I'll get enough donations for you to be able to send supplies?" you mutter, looking around at the other tributes. "A lot of these folks are a lot taller and stronger than I am. They've got a much better chance at surviving than I do."  

Coriolanus surprises you by taking both of your hands in his, squeezing your palms tight in his cold palms.

"I know, but we have something none of the others have."

You scrunch your face in confusion.

"What's that?"

"A story. A strong connection between you and me, a Capitol mentor and a District 12 tribute. Not to mention, your incredible singing and songwriting. Match that with my knack for public relations and we'll have enough donations to send you any supplies necessary for your victory in the games."

You realize then that Coriolanus is unlike anyone else you've ever met. So confident, so sure, so perceptive of other people and their secret desires and pitfalls. His unwavering commitment to his beliefs is admirable, if not almost foolish, but you keep that part to yourself.

"How're you so sure I'll even survive the first few minutes?" you push back, still unconvinced, though you don't pull away from his hold. "And, again, I don't just sing for anyone."

The blonde opens his mouth to respond, but he's interrupted when a sudden cascade of dust and fire crumbles down from the ceiling of the arena. The sound of a bomb exploding reverberates as you're both thrown off of your feet by the impact. Your head is still ringing from the chaos when Jessup pulls at your sleeves, commanding you to walk away from the wreckage. 

Rising onto shaky legs, you even spot another tribute running from the guards towards a blown out hole on the side of the building. And when your eyes meet with Coriolanus' frantic ones, his lower half trapped underneath rubble, you both recognize that you now have an unbridled chance to escape - 

But you don't.

To the blonde's complete shock, you instead shove your friend off, screaming as you lift the heavy cement column with all your strength in an effort to pry the debris off of his body. With the help of a few peace keepers, it works, but Coriolanus falls into unconsciousness quickly as he succumbs to the excruciating pain of crushed ribs and bruised limbs.

The last thing he sees before he fades into darkness is your teary eyes, a sight he so badly wants to fix by wiping away your tears with his fingers... 

When he eventually wakes, it's in a dark hospital next to his grandma'am and sister. There's a roar on the television screen as you're brought onto the broadcast, shy smile and a glittering guitar in hand. It hits him that you're actually going to sing. 

"I didn't have a chance to... uh... write a new song. But I'd like to dedicate this performance to someone very special who's recently been hurt." you say into the mike, your eyes clearly brimming with nerves and doubt. 

As you sing, there's a tight sensation in Coriolanus' chest once the lyrics settle into his mind - a small voice whispers in his mind that it's jealousy, for you singing about a boy back in your home town who broke your heart - but it's overwhelmed by the feelings of gratitude and awe that you'd ended up doing what he asked you to do. All that, after selflessly saving his life.

"A...are you okay, Coryo?" is all Tigris asks, brushing his hair back and gently guiding him back down onto bed upon seeing his expression twist into one of discomfort.

"She could've run." 

"What?"

"At the arena. The blast blew open a large opening on the side of the stadium. I saw one of the tributes actually make it out that way." he lets out a shaky breath, hating you for what you've done to him to make him feel this way. "Damn it, Tigris. She could've run. She could've-"

A single tear drops from his left eye and onto his injured palm, his weak voice giving away his true emotions.

"She could've saved herself from even having to participate in the games. But she stayed. She fucking stayed behind to lift the debris off of me."

"She saved your life." his sister finishes for him, the atmosphere turning somber as she wraps her arms around his shoulder. "I'm just so glad that you're both safe." 

As you retreat from the screen, the donation numbers only piling up higher as Lucky Flickerman closes out the broadcast, a hot fire lights up in Coriolanus' stomach. 

He has to save you.

No matter what it takes.

--------------------------------------

"You know he's just using you, right?"

After the broadcast, once it's revealed that you were given the largest amount of donations out of all the other tributes, Coral from District 4 corners you backstage. 

"Pardon?" you fake ignorance, a small smile playing on your lips, which only seems to aggravate the girl further. 

"Your pretty boy mentor. He's only been faking all sweet for you to get the public to send you donations. In fact, I bet he didn't even bother to try and pull himself out of the wreckage so that he could get more public sympathy.

You snap at that, all fake modesty melting away in an instant.

"You have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, Coral. Coriolanus isn't like that." you spit, but all she does is look down at you with a nasty smirk on her lips.

"Oh really? And how would you know, little songbird? Think he'd care about someone from district 12? And why do you think he wants you to win so badly? Because he's a good person?" she mocks, her face now a mere inches away from yours. "No. I reckon it's more for the prize money." 

You can't sleep that night at the zoo, tossing and turning in the dark. Your mind can't seem to rest, torn between the adrenaline and dread for the games tomorrow, alongside the constant worry over Coriolanus' wellbeing and doubts over his genuinity and trustworthiness.

Coral's just trying to get in my head. you repeat to yourself, over and over again. You're on the edge of sleep, exhausted and upset by your conflicting emotions, when you hear a familiar voice coming from the darkness. 

It sounds like Coriolanus. 

You sit up straight, and it's true: he's here, and he's whispering your name repeatedly, beckoning you towards the front of the cage and away from your sleeping competitors. Suddenly, the overwhelming exhaustion and fatigue disappears, and you find yourself gravitating towards the only person you've been thinking about for the past 24 hours.

"Coryo, you're... you're alright." you sigh out, almost overwhelmed with relief. You don't even realize you're crying until his hands reach up and brush away your tears, his warm hand a stark contrast to the freezing cold of the night.

"I am. All thanks to you, songbird." he breathes out, his fingers tracing the ripples of your cheeks. His head feels dizzy and his hands tremble as he searches his pockets for his mother's golden compact mirror. 

"Don't call me that." you weakly laugh, as he does too. "What's this?" you ask, staring at the object he’s folded gently into your hands. 

"It's for you to use in the arena. Now listen to what I say very carefully. Don't breathe this in, don't spill it on yourself, and only use it when you really need to." he slowly explains, as if he's terrified that you're going to harm yourself by merely carrying it in your pockets. 

"Is... is this allowed? For you to sneak in and give me this?" you whisper, looking around your surroundings, but it's pitch black. 

The blonde purses his lips, using every muscle in his body to keep his expression neutral.

No, it's certainly not allowed. I am risking my life, as well as my family's future, by doing this.

"That's not important. What is important is that the blast from the arena has created a hole leading out to a bunch of service tunnels. I tested it out myself, it leads towards the outside, far away from the peace keepers." 

"Wait, I don't understa-"

Desperation grabs a hold of him, and it's a foreign feeling - the crushing despair of wanting to protect someone that he can't, the burning urge to want to put someone else ahead of him for once.

"What I need you to do tomorrow, (Y/n), is to run. The moment the alarm rings, don't even think of running towards the weapons or fighting the others. Don't even hide anymore. Just… just run towards the tunnels, by yourself, and get out."

"But what about Jessup-" you hiccup. Your head's spinning, confused and horrified by your mentor's change of plans and the prospect of leaving behind your friend to die in the arena. 

"Forget about him." Coriolanus snaps. Suddenly, his eyes are cold and his voice is firm, commanding you as if you have no choice in the matter. "In there, he's as dangerous as the other tributes. You can't trust anyone, not even your supposed friends, okay? The games, they-" he chokes on his own words, and there's something again in Coriolanus' eyes that you can't quite decipher. "They bring out the worst in people. Promise me you'll run."

It makes your stomach twist in anxiety.

"I-"

"Please." 

As he begs, his face crumbles, his voice so desperate and feeble that you can't find it in yourself to say no. 

"I... I'll try." you relent, and he lets out a sigh of relief at your agreement. 

"Good. Perfect." He takes your head in his hands and softly kisses your temple. "I won't let you die in there, okay? Just like you took care of me after the explosion. I'm going to take care of you."

"I'm your mentor. I do my best to take care of you." 

Coriolanus' words from the train station echo in your head as you nod, pocketing the mirror deep inside your dress to hide it away from plain sight.

"Will I... will I be able to see you, after the games?" 

You immediately feel stupid for even asking that. Everyone knows winning the games merely allows your return to your home district. And on all logical accounts, it wouldn't make any sense for the man to give up his life in the Capitol to follow you back to 12.

But he smiles at your innocent question, only nodding whilst squeezing your hands in the dark. To your feeble heart and mind, it feels like a genuine promise.

"Of course, my songbird. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." you whisper.

"I never do." 

And for the first time, you think you actually believe him wholeheartedly.

----------------------------------

You can't believe it. 

You've won.

You were so sure you were going to die once the snakes had been released, eyes closing shut once the venomous snakes began to crawl up your skin, but as you continued to sing... The reptiles simply slithered by your side, remaining docile and non-threatening. And based on the snakes' sudden change of behavior and Highbottom's scowl when he announced you as the victor of the 10th Hunger Games - "consider yourself lucky, little girl, as it seems your mentor was willing to break more than a few rules for you" - your stomach churns at the realization that Coriolanus kept his promise.

He did whatever it took to get you out. 

Even cheating. 

You've only heard whispers of the punishments for cheating at the Capitol. But based on the frequent hangings of rebels in your home district, you can't imagine that the punishment would be very kind.

Weeks have passed since your victory, since the last time you've even seen Coriolanus, but it does nothing to erase him from your mind. You still see his faint silhouette in the mornings, when your eyes have barely adjusted to the morning light and there's a pile of clothes sitting on the chair beside your bed. You think you hear his voice amongst the sea of strangers’ conversations, calling out for his 'songbird'. And you swear you see his face in every crowd at the bar.

Unbeknownst to you, Coriolanus is having the same struggles on the opposite end of the country. Luckily, bearing the last name Snow meant his punishment for cheating was to be lighter than the usual hanging: mandatory military service. District 8. But he's sure to bring his last few bills to bribe the immigration officer for a transfer to 12. 

All to come find you. 

He suffers through the first week of training - grueling hours, hanging ceremonies, endless ramblings from Sejanus about making a change for the better. He pretends not to notice Sejanus establishing connections within the rebel community, until he can’t ignore it anymore. After all, Coriolanus simply can't afford his friend’s idealism and recklessness to get him killed too, and potentially you, when you're thought to be linked to the movement by mere virtue of association.

Especially not you, Coriolanus thinks.

After the games, of having to watch you bleed, sob and fight for hours on end as he stood helplessly, only able to watch: even the passing thought of your death elicits a violent reaction in him. He'll do anything for you. 

Even if that means turning in his only friend to prove his loyalty to the Capitol.

It's an unremarkable Wednesday night for you when you're singing a song at the bar, black guitar in hand and the smell of booze thick in the air, when your eyes come across a familiar face. 

It takes you a few seconds, of course. You almost think it’s a hallucination, if it wasn’t for the sea of other soldiers surrounding him, validating his presence. His fluffy white locks are gone, replaced with a clean buzz cut. He's lost a bit of weight, his shoulders more broad and rough from military training, and the lack of expensive bright fabrics draped around his figure is jarring at first. But it suits him, you think. 

The song can't finish any faster before you're slinging your guitar to the back and rushing up to Coriolanus, immediately throwing your arms around him. He stiffens in your embrace before relaxing, his arms finding your waist and squeezing you tightly. And you can't help but savor every essence of his being: he smells of sweat and coal (unlike his Capitol uniform which always smelled of florals and clean linen) and you can feel the cool metal of his dog tags press against your collarbone at this angle.

"You came back for me." you breathe out, still not believing that he's in front of you. Your ex mentor just smiles, tapping your cheeks with his hands.

"Said I'd never break a promise, now didn't I?" 

As the next performer goes up on stage, recapturing the attention of the audience, you pull him away towards the back room, far away from the bustling crowds and twinkling lights.

"I've thought of you every day, my songbird." Coriolanus whispers against your skin once you two are away from the crowds, his head falling forwards into the nape of your neck.

Your cheeks warm at his comment, your fingers coming up to play with the dog tags around his neck, before a light chuckle escapes your lips.

"What's so funny? Did you not miss me?" the blonde teases, and you shake your head sideways in denial.

"Of course I missed you. I missed you more than you could imagine."

"Then what's the chuckle for?"

You let out a short sigh, not knowing if it’d be wise to bring it up. But all he does is encouraging you, looking deep into your eyes and nodding, urging you to say what’s on your mind. You relent, shoulders sagging. 

"It's just... when I won the games, Highbottom congratulated me. But not for winning the games. But for surviving you." you awkwardly chuckle in hopes of diffusing the seriousness of your question. "Is it true, Coryo?"

"What are you getting at?" is his response, coy and low. You can't tell if he's amused, annoyed or disturbed. 

Or all three at once.

"There's rumors, you know. I heard that you... you had to kill a tribute." you whisper, as if what you’re saying is the biggest secret in the world. "Is it true?"

Coriolanus pauses at that, the smirk on his face dropping for a fraction of a second before he's cupping your face and lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. His stare is so strong, so unwavering, almost to the point of unnerving you. But it's matched with such warmth and softness in his touch as he strokes your hair.

"You have to understand, darling… It was just like the snakes. If I hadn't rigged the game by getting the snakes used to your smell so they wouldn't attack you, you would've died. And if I hadn't killed the tribute charging at me when I had to sneak into the arena to rescue Sejanus-" he sighs, slow and long. He looks as if he’s thinking hard. "I had to, my songbird. I had to do it to protect you. To take care of you." he emphasizes.

You're not sure what kind of an answer you wanted, but you're unable to respond immediately, as it slowly dawns on you that this man both cheated and killed another person for you. 

His response to your silence is a swift kiss, calloused hands dropping to your waist to pull you in close, the gesture desperate and messy. Breathing heavily when he parts from you, he kisses you once more, this time a short peck which is more rough and demanding.

"I would do anything for you, (Y/n) (L/n). Anything for you."

Coriolanus chooses to keep quiet about the fact that technically, he could've just injured the tribute charging towards him instead. Or that it felt freeing to have ended the tribute’s life. Or that just a few hours ago, he tipped off the Capitol about Sejanus' rebellion. All in an effort to secure your unbridled safety. So that he doesn’t ever have to let go of you again.

"Now, where are your manners, my songbird? Aren't you going to thank me?" he whispers against your lips, smoothing out your hair.

"T-thank you, Coryo." you manage to stutter.

He smiles at that, kissing the top of your head as he sways you from side to side.

"Of course, love. Don't worry. We’re going to be just fine. In fact, everything will be fine from now on."

As you peak out from under his embrace, you're not so sure if you can believe him anymore.

a/n: leave it to a new hunger games movie and Tom Blyth playing young!Snow to make me return from my 1.5 year long writing hiatus.

I'm quite nervous about this one as it's my first time writing for a semi-dark character and also because it's been so long since I posted my writing on here... But I hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment, like, reblog, etc if you liked it. If this one is received well I might go ahead and post the other Snow fics currently sitting in my drafts!!!

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x you #hunger games x reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #coriolanus snow oneshot #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #1k

[ghouljams]

Wait holy shit! Is there a Viking König?!?!?!?! Big Viking man?!?$?!?! With mean little feral darling?!?!?!?! Like darling raised in the wild just picked up by the scruff of their neck by Viking! König and taken aboard his ship after a raid or a supplies venture?!?!?!?!?!? Like “ this small human bit my ankle and I love them now. I shall give them food and warmth In return for companionship!” “Uh König, I’m pretty sure that they might have a disease…” “nonsense they are so cute!”

I was going to say no viking König but you have appealed to my love of insane darlings and equally insane Königs. So I will give him to you.

König who is an absolute terror of a viking, but has always been a little... off. He's just unsettling, cursed by his Jotun blood to never quite fit in with humans. That's what his crew claims at least. They've seen him, when the moon is dark, he becomes something that runs through the woods and kills for fun. Of course he can't disprove this, his mother is human but his father is long dead and, well, you never can tell these things. Maybe he is a frost giant like they say. It doesn't quite matter except that he tastes like the winter snow when you sink your teeth into him.

He growls and kicks you to throw you off of his leg. You land hard and scramble to your feet, keep your body low like an animal as you growl back. He spits something in a language you don't know, so you spit back. You don't like the way his eyes spark, the way he tugs the mask from his face, looking so much more human. You don't buy it, frost giants are known for their tricks. He holds out his hand entreatingly, coos something foreign. You hiss, glare, force yourself back into the thicket. He doesn't like that.

He lunges for you, wrestles your arms behind your back as you attempt to grapple him. You bite his arm hard, taste the iron in his blood, and he takes a shaking breath before pushing his weight onto you. You're forced to your knees, though you struggle to free your arms, wrenching one of them from the socket when he pulls a little too hard. You yelp and still, movement shooting fresh pain through you. He murmurs in your ear, foreign words meant to patronize you. They certainly feel patronizing. Likely the jotun is bragging about how weak you are and how you never could have stood a chance against him. Bastard. You still have his blood on your tongue so you spit one of the curses your sister taught you and let it soak into the dirt.

König hauls your squirmy body up over his shoulder. Can't have his new catch walking around. Feisty little thing, hell of a bite on you. You'd make a decent warrior if you had any thought in your head but blind panic. He drops you in front of the ship's healer to have your arm looked at and you attempt to bite them too. They gag you. Probably for the best with the way you shout having your arm treated. The healer gives König a once over.

"That all from this one?" They ask, motioning to the various bleeding bites on him. He nods, his eyes sparkling excitedly. That never bodes well.

"Ja, courting gifts. Cute little thing, aren't they?" He points at you, tied up and muzzled. The healer gives him a concerned look, and shakes their head. People would really like König a lot more if he didn't do things like this.

#cod x reader #x reader #könig x reader #könig #könig fanfiction #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #konig x reader #viking!König #viking au

[chaepink]

DAY 31: A HOUSEHUSBAND'S DUTY | RIMMING

after coming home from a hard day at work, your househusband surprises you by wearing a maid outfit. though he's annoyed that you're late so how about you bend him over the kitchen counter and eat him out to make up for it?

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ PAIRING ⸻ househusband!nanami kento x reader

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WARNINGS ⸻ dom!gn!reader, nanami in a maid dress, rimming, alternate universe, teasing, pet names, kitchen sex, fingering (m receiving), anal play, praise, edging

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ WORDS ⸻ 2k words

KINKTOBER EVENT

Weight gets lifted off your shoulder the moment you walk into your place, the delicious scent of dinner hitting your nose and making you let out a hum. You immediately recognize it as your favorite meal.

Even since you and Nanami chose to get away from the magical world together and start someplace new, its been the best choice you two have made ever since. Nanami had offered to stay at home and take care of the shared house as you work and support the two of you. And lets just say that his cooking is some of the best you've ever tasted.

You quickly take off your jacket and shoes to make your way to the kitchen where the smell is coming from and a smile appears on your face at the thought of seeing your husband after such a long day at work. You had stayed at work for an hour and a half longer than usual due to technical difficulties and traffic but after getting through it all, you hurried back home to see your darling.

Though when you turn the corner into the kitchen, you stop in your tracks, your eyes immediately widening at the sight: Nanami is wearing a fucking maid dress.

"You're late." He mumbles without looking at you but you can still just barely see his flushed face. You rapidly blink to make sure you're not seeing it wrong as your breath is caught in your throat, your eyes roaming the back of his figure. The frilly black and white dress adorned with lace seems a couple sizes too small for him, the material tight against his skin and hugging him in all the right places. The short dress stops a little below his ass, barely covering the plump skin and sure to rise up if he bends down (or over). Black puffy sleeves adorn the dress and add to the overall cuteness of it.

The thought of dinner has left your mind the second you stepped into the kitchen and something else has taken your attention instead.

"Are you... wearing a maid dress for me, Nanami?" Though the answer is obvious, he doesn't answer your question and instead lets out a huff. You suddenly realize he's annoyed at your late timing and you chuckle.

You walk towards him and wrap your arms around his chest, playing with the adorable lace and buttons on the front. "Sorry for being late today. There were some difficulties at work, you know? Though you in a maid dress certainly takes my mind off that." He still refuses to look at you. You sigh at his pettiness as your hands slowly trail down his down, feeling his defined body under the thin material of the dress. They make their way down his exposed thighs and squeeze them, relishing in the way Nanami freezes and stops adding ingredients to the pot.

"Could I make it up to you, baby?" You tilt your head sideways to take a view at the flushed face behind his glasses and you grin when he finally glances at you with a hint of neediness in his eyes.

You can't help but go under the maid dress and grope his ass, loving the way Nanami lets out a gasp that turns into a small moan.

"Turn around for me." Nanami slowly does and avoids your eye contact and how the look in your eyes screams 'i just want to rip it off.' The buttons on the front seem almost as if they're about to pop off due to the size of Nanami's chest in the dress but it just looks so good like that. Now that he's facing you, you can finally see him in all his glory. Especially the bulge against his skirt that Nanami just prays in his head that you don't see or pay attention to.

"Already hard, hm?" You laugh at the way Nanami covers his face and groans. Seeing a 6 foot man who just looks so serious and stern all the time dressed in a little maid dress outfit—while its something you never would have expected—has your mouth watering. "Don't worry," you say, getting closer to him. Your body presses against his and you harshly grab his chin to look at you.

"I think it's rather cute." You begin to feel him grind his bulge against you and you quickly pull away from his body, making Nanami reach out to grab you but you slap his hands away, shaking your head. "No touching."

Leading him to a nearby free counter after turning the stove off, your hands begin to roam his body even more. Your rough groping and squeezing leaves Nanami breathless and hot underneath the outfit.

"All this for me? You sure do love spoiling me, honey." He lets out a grunt when you turn him around and push his body on top of the cold surface of the counter, his nipples immediately hardening. His face is pressed against the surface as his breaths become ragged.

"H-Hurry up, [name]." You chuckle at his eagerness. Though your husband is usually always quiet, stern, and serious, you love it when he becomes needy around you and when he surprises you with stuff like this.

The maid dress rises up his ass, giving you a full view of his ass as well as the pair of white lacy panties he's wearing.

"Holy shit."

Though you didn't prepare for the panties, you're certainly not complaining. A hand goes to the hem and lifts it off his skin before letting it snap against his hip. Nanami lets out a whimper at the feeling and your rough touches.

"I never thought you would look this good in a maid dress. I definitely should've asked you to wear one ages ago." You let out a small chuckle. Nanami turns his head to say something back, probably a sarcastic retort, but a squeeze of his ass again shuts him right up.

You pull down his panties to reveal a butt plug in his hole. Surprise after surprise leaves you eager to ruin him even more but a little teasing never hurts anyone.

"Already prepped, hm?" He quickly nods.

Nanami shivers when he feels your fingers grip the plug, slowly pulling it out at such an agonizing pace. When it's halfway out, you push it back in, making him let out a moan, his back slightly arched at the feeling. You keep doing it for a while and Nanami quickly becomes impatient.

"J-Just take it out already." He glares at you but the glare lacks any real threat. After all, you're the one in control and he doesn't look very threatening when he's bent over a counter in a maid dress with a butt plug in him. Nanami realizes that quickly and looks away.

You tsk at his bratty behavior. "I don't think you're in the position to be giving me commands, darling. Not when you're the one about to get your ass eaten too." Nanami chokes on his spit at your blunt words.

However, you decide that you've done enough teasing and pull the plug out of his hole, leaving him to squeeze around nothing and left feeling empty.

But the empty feeling leaves and the feeling of being full returns when you shove two fingers in him and immediately curl them, hitting the spot in him that makes pre cum splurt out of his hardened dick and onto the floor. You feel him grind against your fingers in fervor and you add another finger, stretching him out even more than the plug did. You still feel the lube he used meaning he must've prepped himself only a couple hours ago.

"S-Shit ngh g-go deeper..." You plunge your fingers deeper into him. His glasses fog up from his heavy breathing as your movements quickly make him fall apart in front of you. But before he could warn you that he's about to cum, you take your fingers out.

He groans in displeasure at you and you just smile. "I can't just be fingering you the entire time, can I?" You get on your knees and leave a teasing kiss on his cheeks. You give his ass a light slap before spreading them apart, revealing his twitching hole to you, making Nanami's dick twitch. "Though I'm sure you would still enjoy it."

He feels your intense gaze on his behind and his face flushes as he grumbles at you. "Q-Quit staring and get on with it." You roll your eyes. "So eager," you mumble under your breath.

Nanami practically melts against the counter when he feels your tongue begin to circle his rim, a groan bubbling out of his throat. You notice his knuckles begin to turn white from how hard he gripping the shelf above him.

Your tongue teases him as it continues to circle the outside before catching him off guard and pushing your tongue inside. It goes in easily due to the plug and your fingering earlier and Nanami lets out a high pitched whimper that certainly doesn't fit his appearance.

"O-Oh God..."

You hum at the taste of him and as your tongue goes deeper inside him, you feel Nanami slowly grind against it, eager for more. The harsh grip your hands have on his ass will surely leave red nail marks on his ass afterward but you've learned that Nanami is a fan of the marks you leave on his body and sometimes even begs you to leave them.

Now that the pleasure finally got to his head, he's gone rather quiet and isn't talking as much, only the sound of his groans and whimpers filling the room. The lewd, sinful wet sounds of your tongue in his ass makes his mind go mushy. It's so dirty but the thought only makes him grind against you even more. He feels his legs begin to shake and he could only let out a cry when one of your hands goes to his hardened dick and begin to pump it. His pre cum leaks out of his dick and onto the floor, making a mess on it.

The pleasure from your tongue and your hand on his dick makes his back arch as he subconsciously pushes his ass up in the air. The kitchen quickly feels too hot as your clothes cling to your skin. Your hands speed up on his dick, wanting to quickly bring Nanami to his release. Your hands bunch the material of his maid dress up his back as your hands grip his hips to push him closer to your face.

When your tongue hits a spot in him that makes his eyes roll and toes curl, Nanami doesn't have enough time to tell you that he's about to cum as his release hits him like a tidal wave, a loud moan erupting from his throat.

Nanami slumps against the kitchen counter as his orgasm sends shocks up his spine and his dick makes a mess underneath him and on the cabinet in front of him. Some end up on his skirt and you can't help but think how sinful Nanami looks with his dick out, maid dress wrinkled and soiled, and cum underneath him.

His breaths are ragged as he tries to recompose himself from his intense orgasm. His half-lidded, hazy gaze turns to meet yours when you stand back up. He sends you a half-glare half-pout look with his face full on red when you choose to lick your lips at him, grinning at his state.

Your hands suddenly make their way up his body and when you bend over to murmur in his ear the warm feeling of your breath sends shivers up his spine. "Shall we take this upstairs?" Without wasting a second to think about the dinner that needs to be made, Nanami nods.

It's safe to say that dinner was long forgotten but who cares when you have an appetite for entirely something else.

note: day 31! ugh it went so fast and now my first kinktober is over already :') happy halloween to those who celebrate it!

🏷️ : @Vealize21 @fabitheraven @sourissue @jksstuffposts @gallantys @tired-of-life-86 @ineedsleeporilldie @aphoneixnamed-angel @flawlessvictorymentality @wowonamo @euphiroo @saintravey @tomiokx @archer-fb @d1gitalbathh @Lifesucksweswallow @rxflen @aspengagrimlin @ilovemenwhowhimperandbeg @deffnotstarguys @laraleafs @lamees004 @literary-latte @cl-0-vr @qweenjx @katebaku7710 @yenakwyl @katsuslover @mysicklove @fairyvibez @someonepleasesedateme @arminsesposa

#chaepink.kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #sub!character #dom reader #dom!reader #sub!jjk #jjk #sub!nanami #sub nanami #nanami x reader #dom fem reader #sub jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami smut #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #fem dom reader #dom! reader #sub character #sub jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk nanami

[keyotos]

face-to-face

summary ↯

aventurine has a bit of a staring problem while shopping

tags ⎯ unestablished relationship. like we are in the baby stages of their relationship. minor jealousy. lots of banter. lowk dialogue heavy.

word count ⎯ 3.3k

tana's thoughts ⎯ aventurine has taken over my brain so here's a snippet of the series i'm writing

over the years, it's become easier for you to notice when someone stares at you. before, it was an uncomfortable feeling. you felt eyes peering over your shoulder as if you were a pest–it made your skin churn and shoulders twitch up self-consciously. now though, gazes move past you like air. you don't care as much about the opinions of other people–it's not like you'll be seeing them for long anyway.

except, today is different.

you can feel aventurine's colorful eyes trail your every move. from the moment you chose the necklace, to the moment you took it up to the cashier. he wasn't being as inconspicuous as he assumed to be: that died after the fifth glance that he shot your way while you were inspecting said necklace.

even through his glasses, aventurine's stare was burning and heavy. you never thought that such light-colored eyes could install such a hefty weight on your back, but aventurine proves you wrong.

while the cashier rings up your necklace, you look back at aventurine. coincidentally, he was already eyeing you before you even turned around. so when you catch him, he thinks that the other pieces of jewelry in the store are far more interesting than your face could ever be.

you scrunch your eyebrows and shake it off. by now, you're quite used to his unusual antics, so you brush him off. the cashier engages in light conversation with you, and then you feel it again. the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and everything feels like it's weighted down.

you bid the cashier goodbye, and aventurine follows you outside. his hands are in his pockets while he whistles, almost like he wants you to start talking. you shoot him a confused look back, your eyebrow raised and nose crinkled.

when he only whistles louder, you decide to poke the bear.

"okay, what is it?" you stop and turn to face him.

"what? you don't like my whistling?" aventurine responds with an innocent tone; he even shrugs his shoulders like he has no idea what's going on.

you huff, "not just the whistling. what's up with your staring?" you raise a hand up to his eyes, "we're supposed to be acting normal. i don't think gawking at the person you're shopping with is exactly normal."

aventurine's jolts back, like he was accused of murder instead of ogling. "i wasn't gawking."

you nod, "yeah, you were staring."

"those mean the same thing."

"i think you've been hanging out with the doctor too much," you roll your eyes and continue walking. aventurine quickly marches up to you, matching your pace sooner than you thought.

"are you trying to compare me to him? we're completely different people, you know that, right? i don't act like him at all," aventurine rambles on. his head is turned to you so that his mouth is directly next to your ear, meaning you hear all of his words. you can't tune him out like usual.

"first of all," it's your turn to look at him, "i just said you hang out with him a lot. and you do, don't you?" aventurine's lips fall into a flat as you say that.

"and second of all, stop changing the subject. why were you staring at me back there?"

the man next to you huffs, and it sounds nearly childlike, "i'm not changing the subject. i'm just trying to tell you that i'm nothing like the doctor," he says with disdain.

"you are changing the subject, otherwise you wouldn't be talking about dr. ratio as much as you are now," you glance around at the various stores surround the two of you, and for a second, you swear that you see aventurine's eyes linger on you once more.

"you did it again!" you fully stop, pointing a finger at his eyes.

aventurine has to catch himself before he falls over at your sudden stop. "what? what are you talking about?"

"you keep glancing over at me! do i have something in my face? my teeth?" a large smile blossoms across your face as you beam at aventurine. for a moment, his annoyed facade falters, and his face relaxes.

"no, and if you did, i'd tell you," he swats a hand in your face, "i don't know what you're talking about."

you roll your eyes. it's obvious that he's hiding something, because usually his lies are more believable. but when you're catching him in the act, denial is not a good way to refute false claims.

"yeah, whatever," you look around the plaza the two of you are currently in when another store catches your eye. your face instantly brightens, and you wander towards the doors.

it's another clothing store, similar to all the other ones on the planet. except, something specific drew you here, and it was the display of hats they had near the window. you walk up to it, spinning the shelf around a few times to grasp onto all the options. your eyes are wide and your mouth is slightly parted as you examine each hat with awe.

unbeknownst to you, aventurine catches up to you and finds you fumbling around with each hat on the rack.

he sneaks up behind you, mumbling, "now, that's what you call gawking."

you jump up in surprise, hitting your head on something more soft than the hard shelf. aventurine quickly redacts his hand from the top of your head.

"i'm just doing what any normal shopper would do," you rub the top of your head before going back to the hats. aventurine's long sigh rings in your ear as you browse.

"yeah, okay," he looks at the selection of hats beside you, "i doubt anything you do is normal, but–" aventurine doesn't get to finish his sentence. he hears your boisterous gasp, and his eyes are on you once more.

"do you see this!!" you lift a fedora up to his eyes, "we could match," you whisper it like a secret, as if matching would be your thing. like matching would only be a tangible thought between the two of you, and no one else.

"yeah, no," aventurine lifts the hat down and places it back on the shelf, "sorry sweetheart, but the hat is my thing."

you grimace at the pet name, "mkay. so, you're gatekeeping fedoras now?"

aventurine sputters, "what? what is gatekeeping?"

you heavily sigh, and aventurine is pretty sure you're putting on an act right now. "are you serious? how do you not know what gatekeeping is?" you shake your head as you grab the hat from the shelf, "anyway, i think i know the real reason you don't want to match."

"because it's childish? and totally not my style?"

you turn around and flick your partner on the shoulder, "no. and you really have been hanging around the doctor too much." you shudder and place the hat on your head, "i think it's because you know i would show you up in it."

aventurine muffles a chortle when he sees you put on the fedora, "keep in mind that we're in the land of dreams."

your lips curl up in the way that they always do when you're annoyed. you are not very amused by his bits today. "you suck," you take the fedora off and continue browsing for different options.

you hear aventurine's footsteps gradually get softer and softer as you keep browsing. that's fine, you think, this is his shopping trip too–he's allowed to find things for himself.

one hat after another: that's your current predicament at the moment. you're glad aventurine is off doing his own shopping, but you also wish that you glued him to the ground so he could give you a second opinion. unfortunately, he is nowhere to be seen, and you are having trouble deciding between two caps.

"do you need any help finding anything?" a voice perks up from behind you, making your shoulders jolt up. it's not the voice you want to hear, instead it belongs to a lovely retail worker.

"ah, no thank you," you smile politely and turn back to the two hats in your hand.

"okay, let me know if you need anything!" sometimes, you wonder how retail employees are able to maintain such a chipper tone of voice for hours on end. do they really want to help you or are they just saying that because they have to?

and that's when the thought hits you: either way, they're still offering themselves up. your eyes widen and you rush towards the employee.

"actually, wait!" he turns around when you touch his shoulder, "i do need help. and this is gonna sound super random–and possibly weird–but what do you think of these two hats?"

you put one hat on–a red one that seems to flop on your head, "this one is nice, right?" the employee in front of you just nods. he's a bit tense and stiff; it seems like he's trying not to offend you.

"yeah, i think it's nice too. only thing is that it's kinda flopping on my head, and caps aren't really supposed to flop," you take it off and hold it in your hand.

you're surprised the employee hasn't made his break yet, because he's still standing in front of you when you grab the other cap.

"and this one," you hold your free hand up to the new, black hat, "is the one that belongs to my favorite team. well, i guess the other one also belonged to another one of my–"

"what are you doing?" you can recognize that voice anywhere. that voice that carries a slightly whiny tone. that voice that always seems to have some judgement sprinkled throughout it.

you and the worker both seem surprised. well, the employee seems to be more intimidated than surprised, but either way, his entire face had gone pale.

"um, trying on hats?" you take off the cap and hold it up.

"i can see that," he looks over towards the employee in front of you, "but is it seriously a two-person job?"

you scrunch your eyebrows together, "i needed a second opinion."

"you could've asked me," aventurine whispered, though it sounded more like a hiss.

"i think someone else needs help," the employee takes a few steps back from the both of you, "i hope you find everything!" there it is. he tries his best to sound cheerful, but his voice quivered as he moved away from the two of you.

"he was such a nice guy," you said as you waved goodbye. aventurine did not look as pleased as you did.

"we're supposed to be laying low. you know that, right?" the blond emphasizes.

you shake him off, "yeah, and tell me how a regular retail worker is gonna rat us out? what about us possibly screams 'sleuth'?"

"we're buying hats." aventurine isn't very proud of his answer, and he can tell that you thought it was weak as well.

"so everyone that buys hats are suspicious?" you retort, putting on the cap you previously took off. "do i look like a murderer to you?"

aventurine sighs. his fingers go to his temples and you're sure that you've brought him to his last nerve.

"this hat is better than the other one," he puts the red one back onto the shelf. "the other one practically fell on your face. i doubt you could even see with that one."

you look at the red hat and then look back at aventurine, furrowing your eyebrows together. "that was a specific answer. i never even showed you what the red hat looked like."

aventurine cleared his throat, and the ceiling must look extra nice, "i overheard the other guy talking. you're loud, y'know that?"

your face immediately breaks out in a huge grin, so wide and bright that aventurine looks back at you for a mere second, before turning back to the ceiling.

"you were doing it again!! the staring! goodness, i thought you were good at lying," you laugh, slapping him on the shoulder to garner his attention, "admit it. i've caught you."

"i'm being serious. you're a little loud," aventurine crosses his arms, biting on the inside of his cheek.

"la-la-la-la. can't hear you. guess i'm speaking too loudly to notice," you put the black cap on again–the brim sticking the opposite direction–and look in the mirror. "hey, since you're here, can you give me another opinion."

aventurine nods for you to continue, and you smile, "perfect. does this make me look like a cool galactic baseball player?"

this is what takes him aback, "huh? why would you want to look like that?"

"well, i'm going to a game soon, and i didn't want to look like a fake fan," you shrug and look in the mirror again. "but now that i'm really looking at myself, i think i’d be an amazing galactic baseballer. what do you think?”

you pretend to hold a baseball bat in your hands, getting into a hitter stance. you make sound effects as you swing your pretend-bat into aventurine's chest, aiming for the open hole in the middle.

aventurine reaches over your head, "well first of all, i'm pretty sure baseball players wear their caps the right way." he grabs your hat and places it on the right way, but not without making sure the brim covered your eyes.

"are you serious right now?!" you yelp, quickly pulling up the hat so you can regain your vision.

and there aventurine is, staring at you again.

you briefly gulp before broadcasting, "you're staring!" you march closer to him. "i caught you!" you're only inches apart now. "and it was obvious!" your finger is pointed at his eyes, but unlike earlier, your finger is much closer.

if you had gotten only an inch closer, you would be able to feel aventurine's heartbeat, despite not even being chest-to-chest.

"okay, okay," aventurine is the first one to step back, and you feel something sinking, "but that was only once."

"yeah, whatever. 'once.' not like i haven't caught you a million other times," you shook your head and regained your baseball posture, "you can't hide from these sharp eyes. told you i'd be a great galactic baseballer."

the blond chuckles, and your eyebrows raise up at the sound, "keep dreaming."

"well, a really weird guy did tell me earlier that we are in the land of dreams. so, if i dreamt that i could be a galactic baseballer, it'd actually happen."

aventurine tilts your hat down once more, dismissing your cries while he does it.

"remember what i said about acting normal?"

"this is actually pretty normal for me," you take the hat off.

"can't argue with that," aventurine looks towards the cashier and then back at you. you raise an eyebrow, as if to raise the question, "is there something wrong with my hair?"

if there is, aventurine doesn't do something about it. surprising, since he's practically been doing something this whole trip. "are you ready to go up?" he asks you.

"you're not gonna get anything?" you look around the store, "we can look at stuff for you. there's tons of things here."

aventurine shakes his head and gives you a wink, "i've got everything i need." you suck in a sharp breath, and you try to focus on anything else other than how fast your heart begins to beat. when aventurine turns his back away from you, then you gulp.

when the two of you get to the cash register, you stand next to aventurine, preparing to pay. you're well aware of how costly things on penacony are–after all, this whole planet is like a tourist attraction. that's why you're paying with card instead of the usual credits.

"did you find everything?" the cashier asks you. you smile at the woman and nod, making idle chatter with her while aventurine idly stands next to you.

the woman turns over to aventurine, "i'm guessing you also want to pay for your item too?"

it's aventurine's turn to plaster a smile on his face. from what you've gathered from being with him so often, his smiles are often sly. some would compare it to the cheshire cat, but you thought he rather resembled an evil cartoon villain.

"yes ma'am," his saccharine voice masked his villain grin, "do you still have it?"

"that i do," she responds, grabbing something from underneath the counter. your eyes fly from the woman to aventurine. you simply couldn't believe what you were looking at.

"you're buying the freaking feodora?" your posture straightens and you beam up at him, "i knew you wanted to match!"

"slow your roll," aventurine puts a hand up to you, "who said i was buying this for you?"

your smile drops and you shove his shoulder, "are you serious? i thought you didn't like that hat."

"i didn't not like the hat. i just didn't like the thought of us matching," he tilts his head to smirk at you.

the cashier's eye's bounce between you two, not knowing whose side to take. eventually, she settles for ringing your cap and aventurine's feodora up, not even wanting to say a word.

"alright, who's paying?" she looks up at the both of you.

"i am," you and aventurine say in unison. your face contorts while aventurine displays a confused expression.

"um," you whisper, stepping closer to the blond next to you, "i'm paying."

"um," aventurine mocks you, "you're broke."

"not broke!" you kick his shin, and aventurine grips onto the counter in order to keep his balance, "just budgeting."

"yeah, and you know who don't have to budget? people that aren't broke."

"so he's paying?" the cashier interrupts. you step away from aventurine out of shame. he can have this.

when aventurine sees you put away your wallet, he proudly hands his card up to the woman in front of you. when she looks down to scan his card, he shoots you a sly look and a wink. your mouth rests in a flat line and your eyes show no signs of hilarity.

the moment the two of you step out of the store, you immediately go for aventurine's bag. before he could even catch you, the hat is already in your hands.

"we can switch!" you try to reason with him, "you would be a great baseball player. just, y'know, not as great as me."

"and..." you sing, "we wouldn't match. wouldn't that suit both of our goals?"

aventurine looks over at you, and his gaze is softer. this time, you don't get onto him for gawking. how could you, when he's looking at you like that? you don't think you've ever seen him like that... ever.

you squint your eyes, trying to decipher his real expression. but there's nothing for you to investigate.

"what?" you ask.

"you can keep it."

immediately you take a step back, nearly bumping into a bystander walking behind you. you shout a quick apology before returning back to aventurine, "didn't you buy this for yourself though? what's the point of me keeping it?"

"i just realized that it didn't go with any of the outfits i have," he sighed, looking into the distance, "what a waste of money. so, it's yours."

"what kind of bullshit is that?" you scold the blond, "you always have to think about whether or not you'd actually wear the item before you buy it. that's like... number one rule of shopping."

"i don't shop that much," aventurine shrugs, glancing at you one last time before focusing on the street ahead. he bites the inside of his cheek and tries his hardest not to look to the side. you'd give him hell for it.

but you're not focused on that. everything's slow, and it feels like the street is empty.

"well, then we're gonna have to go more often."

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗) #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #hsr aventurine #IM BACKKKKKKKKKKK #he has risen and so have i #im not religious i just wanted to make an easter joke #also obv the series is a work in progress soooo don't take what i'm writing too srsly... it will need revisions #the way this was supposed to be a snippet (max 1.5k words) and it ended up being 3k. #there's more to the chapter btw.

[hanrinz]

YOU HAVE STOLEN MY HEART . . . ! blue lock men are all a loser clingy and desperate for your attention

✦°．feat : isagi yoichi, rin itoshi & nagi seishiro

✦°．notes. f! reader. fluff. ooc characters. so sorry for this and for not posting anything lately </3 i kinda went overboard with isagi lol.

RIN ITOSHI

he would literally throw hands at anyone if you don't stop talking to your phone right now. it's been exactly thirty-four minutes since you have chosen to talk to your old friend over him, your boyfriend—who clearly needs your undying love and attention.

(and yes he's been counting)

you were sitting in the living room, animatedly chatting with whoever lukewarm piece of shit you were talking to. laughing and smiling about something god knows what.

and he's checking on his phone, counting down the minutes and seconds passing by as you continue babbling on and on your old friend. he's now starting to hate this friend of yours. six more minutes and he gets you all to himself and he was selfish—always been and never changing—he wants you to just be beside him right now, he didn't just took off a day from his work just to have you taken away by someone else.

he decided six minutes was too long, why can't he have you now? without any second left to waste, he made his way to the couch, standing tall and glaring menacingly at your phone, as if it would melt away from your hands.

your eyes are now on him, you grace him with a much more radiant smile, with your eyes softly conveying 'you need anything?'

yeah, he definitely needs something. he needs you to hang up on your friend and spend time with him.

you noticed the look on his eyes and it made you laugh a little from his childish acts, jealousy does look kind of attractive on your boyfriend.

your little sudden chuckle had made the other side of the phone to ask you what was so funny? you shake your head as if he could see what you were doing, the conversation had turned dull and truly you only stayed for a couple more minutes out of courtesy, but you were dying to get away from him and just be with your beloved boyfriend.

rin couldn't take this long stupid call any longer—and as much as it was petty and silly, his patience has long been gone—he takes a seat beside you, the cushion dipping from his weight his arm coming round at the back of the couch as his other one takes the device out of your hands grunting out a, “she's busy, call her next time.” and ending the call right away, leaving no room for protest.

“rin-!” you whine, you look at him with disbelief following wuth a laugh as you type out a small apology to your old friend. tossing your phone on your side table not really waiting for a reply back.

not that you don't feel bad or anything, but you were thankful that the call had finally ended.

“you were taking too long,” he grumbled while he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you, dipping his head into the crook of your neck. “want you all to myself” he muttered on your skin, placing dot kisses along the crevices of your shoulders.

your arms now coming up to his neck as you play with the back of his hair caressing it the way he likes.

“stupid, 'm all yours.”

ISAGI YOICHI

holding your hands wasn't enough for him, well at least this very right moment. why aren't you focusing your eyes on him? is the person beside you that important? more important than him? he's sure not. just someone who wants your attention.

you were just too nice, too good for anything in this world. you were too good for him if he was being honest, someone who was way out of his league, he thinks. but, isagi yoichi is not a coward. he doesn't wait for anything or anyone and when he sets his eyes on something, he makes sure he gets it.

he tried being polite and patient with the person beside you. he really did.

but it was no use, not even the repeated mantra of “play nice” that he keeps saying on his head didn't help with the bubbling feeling welling up on his chest. it doesn't help that he notices the way the guy kept sitting closer to you and the way his eyes scans your body every passing second.

he hates it so much.

your boyfriend has never been one for violence, but he can make an exception right now. he doesn't notice the way his hands have tightened its grip with yours. catching your attention now from the sudden discomfort it causes you, breaking away from the conversation you were having, you looked at isagi with concern.

“yoichi, is everything okay?” you called out to him. he snaps away from his thoughts, replacing his hardened expression with a small smile in hopes of trying not to worry you.

“don't worry 'bout me, pretty,” he smiles, like he didn't just have any intentions of landing a punch to the guy you were talking to.

“you sure?” he only nods at your question. loosening the grip he has on your hands, but still firm as ever.

he knows he has to leave soon for the game and the thought of leaving you with this guy alone makes him go crazy. don't get him wrong, of course he trusts you with all of his heart.

the problem was the trash beside you, though he was more than willing to show how much he deserves your attention more.

“jus’ keep your eyes on me, yeah?” was all he says to you before he leaves.

the match starts, with isagi more than determined to score the first goal, maneuvering the ball with precision, getting behind the players and kicking with high accuracy, isagi scores the first kill.

he didn't care for the crowds uproar, nor the signal sound of the goal he just scored, not even the commentators voices, because what he needs to know is if you were looking at him. searching for your face at the sea of people in the vip section, your eyes meet. his heart kicks into overdrive, pride welling up on his chest as he returns the smile you wore on your face.

the guy beside you was left forgotten, he didn't fail to shoot him a look of abhorrent, secretly in the middle of the match.

and the team wasn't oblivious to the striker's jealousy, they saw it all, isagi couldn't give a damn if this was going to be used against him.

he won. isagi yoichi, the heart of blue lock won another match, dominating the game with fierce play. all he wanted to do was to come to you and have you all night to himself.

“isagi, is there a particular reason for your amazing play today?”

“isagi, how do you feel about today's match?”

“just one moment of your time, isagi!”

he ignores all the noise of the press, shooting up a tired look to rin hoping that the captain would handle all the troublesome questions. he didn't wait for an answer, already trudging back to the locker room.

and there you were waiting for him, all pretty and nice. he smiles to himself as he calls out for you.

raising your eyes in his direction, as you run up to him with a big smile “yoichi!”

he would really like to hug you right now, if not for the dripping sweat of his jersey. and he knows how much you don't like it. he settles for holding your hands instead, but this time your eyes were on him. not on that guy, not any of his teammates, not on anyone, but him.

he places a small tender kiss in your hands, with a tired grin on his face, a little drunk over you.

“was i good?” he whispers, pulling you closer to him.

and you wonder what has prompted this question by your boyfriend, but you don't dwell on it as much when he looks at you like a lovesick puppy.

“the very best, yoichi.”

NAGI SEISHIRO

a big baby who's stuck in a 6ft striker's body. why would you choose some little kid over him? don't you see he's so much better?

“what a bother,” he grumbles, clearly annoyed with the little kid who's been taking up your time in the arcade. he stands lazily by the side, seeing you helping a little kid who seems to be having a hard time winning in a game.

it all started when the two of you had planned out a day for a date, weeks of not being able to be together because of his game overseas.

and now that he gets the time to have you, a little pesky child just managed to snatch you away from his hands. a big pout was residing on his face, clearly he wasn't going to wait for you to come back to him.

arguably, he was being the child in this situation, giving sharp glares at the back of the head of the kid.

poor kid, who just wants to win a little plushie.

and what adds into his sour mood is when you tell him to go play some games to keep him busy while you help the small child.

you really expect him to go away from you and play all by himself? no way. you probably didn't get the notion that he needs you, when he plays all these stupid games. now he stands close by the claw machine, his arm folded on his chest, sighing loudly every minute, impatiently waiting for you.

you were terrible.

very horrible at claw machines, it comes to the point you have almost consumed half of your coins that were supposed to be for you and nagi. you really tried your best, feeling bad for the kid who asked you to help him get a gift for his little sister.

only left with frustrated sighs and disappointment, you turn to your sulking boyfriend by the side, who seems to light up from his sullen expression when you look at him. you flashed him a smile that looks a little strange, not the same ones that keeps his heart beating up and down or makes his ears aflare with redness.

no, you were asking for something. your eyes gesture the claw machine that you're struggling with, you didn't even have to beg, nagi has always been the one to fold for your wishes and bidding.

he was quick to get by your side and play on the controls, if getting this stupid plush penguin was to win you back he'll gladly get ten more of it.

and with just a few calculated flicks and timed clicks, he won. like he always seem to, when he's all fired up and determined.

“easy,” he muttered, as he drapes himself over you engulfing you in a warm embrace, as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo, placing a kiss in your hair in the process.

you laugh at him, letting yourself melt into his bear hug, your hands coming up to caress his snowy hair, “you still down for more, genius?”

“duh.”

you might have returned home with empty pockets and content hearts that day.

◞♡ likes & reblogs are highly appreciated! is it obvious i'm crazy for isagi?

#roses ‘r rosie #rin itoshi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #rin itoshi x you #yoichi isagi x reader #nagi x reader #nagi fluff #isagi fluff #rin fluff #nagi seishiro x you #blue lock headcanons #blue lock #bllk x reader

[wandasgf]

STREAM IN PROGRESS. mdni. 18+.

pairings: streamer ! wanda maximoff + f ! reader

summary: surely working your girlfriend up while she's on stream won't be too bad, will it?

warnings: dom!top!wanda, sub!bottom!reader, reader has long hair for the plot, hair pulling, mommy kink, this is pretty soft tbh, slight dacryphilia, exhibitionism

wc: 1.7k~

"You guys want my girlfriend on stream?" Wanda laughs as she reads comments, the sound soft and melodic. "Are you getting tired of me already?" Her tone is teasing, and it's part of the reason she's gained such a following. Her change in demeanor over the years has allowed her to gain a bit of a loyal following, going from stoic and cursing under her breath while playing games such as Valorant and Apex Legends to joking around and being more carefree while playing, sometimes those same games, but also some not so competitive titles like Resident Evil and Outlast.

(Occasionally Fall Guys, but she thinks that might ruin her image).

She turns her head to look at you, raising a perfectly manicured hand and motioning for you to come closer. "Well, let's give the audience what they want. Though, we don't have another chair, so you're going to have to settle for my lap. What a pity." She tilts her head slightly and a small smirk graces her lips.

Another thing that's helped her gain popularity is just how bold she's willing to be. Well, that and her audience seems to love her girlfriend and how cute the two of you are together.

"We really should get another one, considering how often I have to 'settle for your lap',” you hum, settling down sideways in your girlfriend's lap, legs thrown across her thighs and arm around her shoulder so as to not completely block her from the camera.

"Well, let's not be too hasty,” Wanda murmurs as she leans up to capture your lips in a soft kiss, smiling against them. You're interrupted by the sound of Wanda’s character dying and she pulls away with a groan, "look what you did, you little brat," she teases, "distracting me like that..." She clicks her tongue in faux annoyance, “you guys ask for her to come on stream and the first thing that happens is me dying. Do you all like to see me suffer?”

The stream continues on like this, with Wanda’s teasing and banter between her and the audience as well as between you and her, until Wanda is bidding goodbye to the audience and turning off her camera in favor of focusing on you. Unbeknownst to the audience, you had been teasing your girlfriend almost since the moment you appeared on camera, the webcam doesn’t show anything below your girlfriend’s chest, so what’s the harm in having a little fun? Sure, you’d probably get punished for it later, but that was something you could worry about when the time came.

-

It had taken every ounce of patience and self control that Wanda had not to just end the stream early when your fingers somehow found their way under her shirt, nails raking across her skin, and then beneath the waistband of her sweats, playing with the band of her panties and slipping even lower, lower, until she grabbed your wrist and dug her nails into your soft skin. A warning to behave yourself, and so you did, for a few minutes anyway, and then you were back to the teasing touches. It wasn’t your fault she wouldn’t scold you on camera, and if you got her worked up enough maybe she’d skip the punishment altogether.

And you were right, because right now all she could really focus on was your weight in her lap and the fire that your fingertips left behind, the teasing touches getting bolder now that the camera was off. And then she feels your hand slip beneath the waistband of her sweats and she sees that look in your eyes, the one that tells her you think you’ve gotten away with something you wouldn’t usually. Your eyes are almost shining, it's actually quite cute, she thinks. Perhaps she should punish you right now, she’d given you a clear warning to behave yourself, it’s not her fault you just can’t listen to her.

Wanda catches your wrist once more, “Do you never learn?” Her tone is calm as she takes your arm and twists it behind your back, using it as a means to turn you around and push you over, barely giving you enough time to react and catch yourself against her desk with your free arm.

Luckily you do, bracing yourself against the hard surface with your forearm, a bloody nose for that reason would be quite embarrassing. “Do you take pleasure in disobeying me like that? In disobeying Mommy, hm?” You bite your lip as she stands from her chair, watching her movements through her reflection in the now blank computer monitor as you shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? So if I checked right now you wouldn’t be making a mess of yourself? Of course not, you’d never lie to me,” she answers her own question and laughs as if she’s waving the idea off, of course you wouldn’t, and then her fingers are tangled in your hair, harshly tugging you upward and leaning down just the slightest bit, “Would you, baby?”

You let out a whine in response, her other hand is still holding your arm behind your back, keeping you pressed down and making your back arch. The strain on your hair wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t unwelcome either. “Stop it, that hurts,” you huff, avoiding the question, but it just makes Wanda tug harder, clicking her tongue, “that’s not what I asked you.”

Wanda revels in the whimper you give her in response, looking down at you in the reflection of the monitor like you were prey she was waiting to swallow whole. She wishes she had the resolve to properly punish you, to keep you tied up and unable to touch her as she busied herself with household chores, perhaps even running out to get groceries while she has you begging for her not to leave you alone. She almost frowns at that last part, when did she become so terrible that she’d do anything to see your pretty eyes filled with tears?

Instead she takes pity on you, the way your eyes are beginning to gloss over, tears stinging at the edges and threatening to fall from the harsh grip she kept on your hair has her starting to feel dizzy. She just can’t help it, you looked so pretty like this. She lets go of her grip on your arm and you immediately move it to aid your other arm in bracing yourself against the desk, easing the strain on your hair just the slightest bit. She slips a hand beneath your panties and palms your ass.

One of her favorite things was that you never felt obligated to wear pants when it was just the two of you alone, simply opting for a long sweater or shirt with your panties.

Her hand wanders down, pinching the fat of your thigh and laughing when it results in a yelp. “Wanda, just touch me already!” You whine, trying to push back against her. “Patience.” she hums, letting go of your hair and you let your head drop, hair falling down and framing your face. Though she does drag her fingertips over your clothed cunt, cooing when she feels the wet spot on your panties. “Is this why you’re being a brat, hm? Need Mommy to ease the ache between your thighs?” Her tone is teasing, but her fingers rub soft circles against your clit, just enough pressure to pull a soft moan from between your lips.

“So sensitive…” Wanda muses to herself, using her free hand to pull your panties to the side. She'll skip the teasing for now, wants to work you up first, have you drooling all over her fingers before she pulls everything away. She runs her fingers through your folds, gathering some of your slick and dipping a finger inside of your drooling hole. “Please.” your tone is pleading, wanting nothing more than for her to sink her lithe fingers into your cunt.

It feels like Wanda had been teasing you for hours even though she had only just started touching you, and wasn’t teasing at all. Perhaps thinking about your girlfriend fucking you throughout the entire stream was not your brightest idea, your attempt to tease her had accidentally gotten you all worked up.

You push back against her, trying to get her to sink her finger deeper. “So impatient.” she chuckles, pulling her finger out altogether, resulting in a whine of protest from you, before suddenly sinking her middle and index fingers into your tight heat.

You gasp in response, biting down on your bottom lip to stifle your moans, hands curling into fists as you support yourself on your forearms, having nothing to grab onto. “You really are sensitive, did all that teasing today get you worked up, baby? Did that silly little brain of yours start thinking a little too hard?” If you were in any other position you’re sure you’d bite back with a snarky comment, but you just can’t, not with the way Wanda’s fingers are thrusting into you, curling to hit just the right spot and make you see stars.

Wanda almost rolls her eyes, bringing her free hand up to fist your hair once more, gripping it at the end and looping it around her wrist, tugging harshly near your scalp and bringing you flush against her front, ”I believe I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

You whimper in response, the strain on your hair making tears prick at your eyes, threatening to fall. When your girlfriend prompts your response once more with a slight tug, the tears spill over no matter how hard you try to stop them. “T–Technically, you asked two,” you bite back weakly.

“Brat.” Wanda rolls her eyes, pushing you down and letting her tight grip on your hair fall looser. She feels you clench around her fingers at the harsh treatment and she grins, predator-like, before pulling her fingers out and swiftly landing a slap to your sensitive clit. “Mommy!” you choke on a moan, jolting forward, torn between begging her to hit you again or for her fingers. Your fingernails dig into your palms as your fists tighten around nothing.

“Do you think you can be a good girl for me?” Wanda asks, starting to grope you and leaning down to press a tender kiss to your cheek before using the hand in your hair to properly gather it into her fist, holding it in a makeshift ponytail and finally relieving the strain you were feeling. “Because if you’re not,” she tugs harshly once more, causing you to whimper, “I have no problem giving you a proper punishment.”

#alice's fics ! #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff smut #scarlet witch smut #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x reader

[luveline]

Can I request Eddie and R tending to each other’s wounds (given they both survive the demobats in the UD)?

ty <3 fem!reader, 1.4k 

cw canon typical violence

“You’re sweating like crazy.” 

“Eddie, that’s the sort of thing you don’t say to a girl,” you say, hands shaking hard as you ruffle through the duffle bag at your side. Your knees burn like they’re on fire, your arms raked with claw marks, but Eddie’s been minced. If you hadn’t climbed your way back to him with the makeshift flamethrower at his feet, Eddie would probably be dead. Scorched demobat is a gross smell. 

“What are you so scared of? It’s like, running down your cheek,” he says. 

“Shut up,” you say, glancing back, hoping Dustin will be right behind you. You hadn’t stopped to make sure he was alright. What if he’s hurt too? “Seriously, just don’t talk. You’re gonna bleed to death and die and your last words are gonna be about how sweaty I am.” 

You peel back a soaked square of gauze from his waist and smash a clean one overtop to soak up the pooling blood. Eddie gasps in agony, writhing away from your touch, but to his credit, his voice is strong as he says, “Shit, true. I can make them better. How about, um… oh. You’re smoking. Like, seriously gorgeous. That better?” 

Your eyes sting as you turn your face to your shoulder, cupping his cheek, his blood wet on your fingers and staining his skin red. “How would you know? It’s dark out.” 

“I’ve seen your face in the light hundreds of times. I know what I’m talking about.” 

He would’ve been turned to mulch without your rescuing. There are split cuts all over him, it’s awful, and you won’t be able to fix him yourself here, but you don’t have to. You just need to stop his bleeding and help him deal with the pain until Dustin makes it through. The two of you can drag him to safety. 

Maybe the best way to do that is to let him tease you. “You really think I’m pretty?” you ask, pressing another piece of gauze over this second one, wincing when he lets out a pained gasp. 

“Are you kidding?” 

“I thought you liked, you know, the really pretty girls, like–”

“You are a really pretty girl, are you kidding? Don’t fish for compliments.” 

You shake your head, laughing, half-terrified. The blood isn’t slowing. “Eddie, I have to press down harder, okay? I’m sorry.” 

“Just do it,” he says. You dig the heel of your palm into his side. “Fuck!” 

“You’re really not gonna like this next part,” you warn, pushing his legs flat to the floor. 

You climb over his thighs and sit on his lap, hand twisted to cover his wound and the other peeling the paper covering off of another sterile square of gauze. Eddie swears like a sailor as you squeeze down, the majority of your upper weight being pressed to his open wounds. It would be an uncomfortable sensation without the cuts. You know it’s torture. 

“Oh, god,” he says, “I think I’m gonna be sick.” 

“That’s a great reaction,” you say, lifting the edge of the leftmost gauze. The blood pools but doesn’t gush down his side. You sigh in relief. “Oh, thank god.” 

“Maybe don’t say stuff like that sitting on my crotch.” 

“Are you for real?” You meet his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. “You’re really thinking about your dick right now?” 

“Of course not, I’m a gentleman, but you’re kind of on top of me and it’s been a really hard week.” 

You burst out laughing. He gags in pain and turns away. 

The cavalry arrives not long after that, though it feels like hours. Together, somehow, you drag Eddie back to the gate, and things get a little blurry after that. 

—

You’ve never been so tired in your life as you are right now, but you’re so relieved that the world has taken on a golden quality, and Eddie looks golden too. 

His hair is wet. You think Wayne might’ve washed it for him over the bath; it’s been greasy for a week while his stitches started to heal up, and he spent it in Steve’s bed. The only good thing about having absent parents apparently is being able to harbour a fugitive without being noticed, and anybody else who couldn’t go home without explaining their injuries. 

“You okay?” Eddie asks. 

“Mm.” You scrunch up into yourself on the couch, cradling your arm where it aches to your chest. 

“You’ve been sleeping all day. Figured I’d make sure you weren’t in a coma.” You think about poor Max. He must see your wavering expression, sitting on the couch by your legs with an apologetic smile. “She’s doing even better today. Sinclair thinks she was squeezing his finger, so that’s something.” 

“Can’t believe all that stuff really happened,” you mumble, the blanket pulled over your chin muffling your voice. It’s a wonder he can hear you. 

“Feels fake, right? I keep forgetting about it when I wake up, and then I have to stand and feel my stomach try to split open and remember I was bat chow.” He nods to your arm. “Still hurting?” 

It’s nothing compared to his. Your cuts didn’t need stitching, but the were deep still. You’ve only had the butterfly bandages taken off yesterday. The skin aches where the scar tissue is forming. “Sort of itchy,” you say.

“Yeah?” He pulls a little white tube from his pyjama pants hesitantly. “Maybe I can help?” 

“What’s that?” 

“Non disclosed ointment. Pretty sure it’s the good stuff from Mike’s girl’s government friends.” 

They’re gonna clear Eddie’s name, apparently. So far they’ve done a whole lot of nothing while Hawkins falls apart around you. Well, besides the drugs. They’ve given out plenty of painkillers. 

Eddie shuffles closer to you and takes your arm into his hand. “Her name is Eleven,” you say. 

“I know.” He pushes your sleeve up over the bump of your elbow to expose the worst of your scarring. 

You think he’s aware of what you did that day to save him. He’s been achingly nice to you since he woke up. Even when he couldn’t walk, he’d been shouting down the stairs from Steve’s room to check if you were alright on the couch. Usually met with a chorus of Shut the fuck ups, it had been sweet, if a little embarrassing to have to call back. I’m okay. Thanks! 

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he says. 

You watch him uncap the ointment and squeeze a ball of it onto his finger. It’s semi-translucent, smelling of arnica with a bit of kick to it. He turns your wrist gently in one hand and begins to trace the lines of your scars one by one, as gentle as anyone’s ever touched you, his pinky finger suspended and shaky as he draws toward the crook of your elbow.

“Well, don’t leave me waiting,” you say eventually. 

“Right, just. I’m trying to be braver. It’s not working in my favour yet.” 

You laugh. “No, really?” 

“But you saved my life. Everybody knows it. You and Henderson saved me, and I can’t make it up to you. This,” —he smooths ointment over the ridge of your cruellest scar— “is permanent. And scaring you like that, I mean. I shouldn’t have gone back in, and I should have kept running, it was selfish, trying to do a good thing and…” He holds your arm in his hands and meets your eyes. You don’t see a trace of the shrill, loud boy you’d spent the last two weeks with. “Getting you hurt.” 

“I got hurt trying to save the world,” you say. “‘Cos, you know, not everything’s about you…” 

His smile is slow as molasses and doubly sweet as he wraps his arm behind your shoulders. He’s careful, you’re both fragile right now, but he squeezes you and laughs warmly against your ear and he’s back to the Eddie you remember. “Everything is about me. It’s totally about me, babe, and you’re just jealous.”

He rubs your back. 

“You know,” he adds, hand trialling lazily to the small of your back, where it stays, “I wouldn’t be here without you. So if you need anything, just let me know.” 

“Yeah, okay.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, pulling back. He kisses your cheek as he does, his hands falling on top of yours. “Alright. You’re still smoking hot, you know that? The scars are sick. You’re cool now.” 

Your fingers twitch against his palm. “Thanks, Eddie.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

[livinginshambles]

I needed to hear you say it | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Unrequited love on both sides, James' side in part two– You're in love with James who, despite knowing about your feelings, ignores it as he doesn't want to lose you by rejecting you. After a rejection, you get over him and leave him strangely enough, conflicted.

Notes: I was not going to post anything until I got back from holidays, but it’s really short, so here it is anyway! Not proofread and typed on a phone ;)

Masterlist Part two

______________

“I’m sorry.”

You shook your head at his words, assuring him that it wasn’t his fault. After all, you don’t choose who you fall in love with. It just happens. Just like how you don’t choose who you don’t fall in love with.

The words "I don't love you" rang through your head.

“It’s alright,” you tried to offer him a smile, but your eyes avoided his, your face tilted downwards. Despite your heart hurting, you felt slightly lighter, as if a massive weight had been taken off the back of your mind. “I think I knew. Despite your mixed signals which I must admit, gave me a little hope, I knew. So did you.”

James was slouched on the couch in front of the fireplace, taking up the entire space, leaving Peter and Remus to sit on the floor in front of him, both busy studying like dutiful students should. He looked up at you, vision up side down as a result of his head that had lolled off the edge of the couch, a conflicted expression adorned his face while he studied yours.

You watched his glasses that sat uneven on the bridge of his nose, eyes that seemed to bore right through you, though you sure hoped they couldn’t. How humiliating it would be, you thought to yourself, since more often than not, you imagined what it would be like to be loved by him, accidentally zoning out with your eyes trained on James. You shook the thoughts away in a flustered manner as if to hide them away.

Noticing that James was still peering up at you, you stretched out your leg towards him and nudged your foot against his head in a teasing manner, trying to get him to break his gaze. It worked, and James pushed it away with a face of mock disgust.

“Ew! Get your smelly feet away from my face.” He complained.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “No. I don’t think I will,” you taunted and wiggled your foot in front of him a little more. With lightning quick reflexes, James managed to grad your ankle and started to tickle your foot.

You squirmed away with a high pitched shriek, almost kicking James in the face. “James! Bloody hell?” You loudly exclaimed and retracted your leg. James only grinned in response, blowing you a kiss and a wink. It had your heart skip a beat.

“So what were you thinking about,” you decided to ask him, his frown not having gone unnoticed by you.

‘About how I know that you’re in love with me,’ he thought. He had been thinking about that a lot recently, but unfortunately not because he returned your feelings.

James was trying to pass his behaviour off as normal recently, despite having found out about it. He prayed that you would never confess your feelings directly to his face, because he knew that he’d have to reject you, inevitably losing you in the process. Something he wanted to avoid at all costs.

He needed you.

But he wanted Lily. She was it for him after all, no matter how close you and James were.

“Lots of things on my mind,” James cleared his throat. “Like do you guys think that McGonagall has ever... involved herself with another cat?” He asked the first thing that popped up in his mind and was successful in diverting the conversation. The immediate response was four groans and a chorus of “That’s bloody disgusting, Prongs, what the hell mate?”

James shoulders relaxed when he saw you laugh along. He didn’t want things to change.

James didn’t know what to say to you. He hadn’t wanted to lose you, so he avoided the confrontation, unintentionally stringing you along on the way, breaking your heart when the news that Lily decided to give James a chance had reached you before he could tell you himself.

But now he knew somewhere in his gut that this was the going to be the end of you two. At least for now, he realised.

“Thank you,” you managed and his head snapped up to yours, searching for your eyes but yours were firmly focused on the brick wall behind him.

You took a deep breath. “I needed to hear you say it,” you exhaled, your eyes glistering in the reflected light when you looked up again.

You reached your hand into the pocket of your sweater, grasping at the ring that James had given you. You had pocketed it after you found out that the only reason you received that wonderful gift, was because Lily had told James that she didn’t like wearing jewellery.

You held your hand out to him. James, somewhat confused, still held his hand out and you let the ring drop in the palm of his hand. “I’m not going to get strung along by you anymore,” you told him. Your voice was barely louder than a whisper, but was firm.

James heart clenched, the pit in his stomach enlarging. ‘This is it,’ he thought.

“No more hurting. No more feelings,” you said out loud, as if you were vowing them to him. “Let’s meet up after the summer vacation, yeah?” James’ eyes searched your face, hope at your words, lighting them up.

“I swear on the marauders, everything will be back to normal next year, and we’ll be okay.” Your words were confident, putting him at ease, knowing you’d keep your promise. You beamed up at him one last time before you stepped back, disappearing through the brick wall of Platform 9¾.

September 1st.

James dearly missed you. You hadn’t visited over the holidays as usual. Nor had you answered the letters that James couldn’t help but send you to keep you up to date on what you were missing out on. James was already on the platform, waiting in front of the Hogwarts express. He was early, but he knew that you were always one of the first to arrive of all the students, ready to secure a compartment for the marauders.

James had spent a few weeks with Lily during the holidays, and the both of them had realised that maybe they weren’t it for each other.

Whereas James slept in and enjoyed late night talks, Lily would wake up as an early bird. He wanted to go out and stroll through the streets, get lost in London or hang out at a bar and Lily would rather go to the park and calmly read a book that she’d treated to herself. James liked trying out new places to eat at, maybe laughing at how disgusting something was, while Lily thoroughly enjoyed making meals herself to match her tastes.

She didn’t feel too comfortable with James’ public affection or physical touch, so he would often find himself walking next to her, arms awkwardly hanging by his sides. He realised that even when walking around with his friends, he’d have his arm thrown across their shoulders.

James was also a little bit of a complainer. He would dramatically gasp for air and wave his hands at himself during the heat wave that hit London while whining about the temperature. He sourly eyed the ridiculously long queue of the movie theatre of a movie that he wasn’t particularly interested in due to different tastes and couldn’t help but complain about it. He cursed out loud when they missed the bus and grumbled about the 30-minute wait until the next.

Lily would roll her eyes at him, albeit amusedly. She would hush him and shake her head at his childishness, sometimes with a slightly embarrassed chuckle which was the final issue; she was often embarrassed at his loud rambunctiousness.

Finally coming to terms with reality, Lily and James amicably split up. He still thought she was a great person, but maybe not for him per se.

He was lost in thoughts until two hands obscured his sight, effectively pulling him back to the present. They were warm to the touch and smelled like you. James’ stomach swirled for just a split second, but he didn’t have time to process the feeling in his gut when you spoke up in a low voice, trying to pass off as someone else, as if James would be fooled by that.

“Guess who?”

A grin broke out on his face and he grabbed one of your wrists, spun around and then made your twirl around as well. “My favourite person?” He cheekily teased. He was taken aback when you threw yourself at him, that same fluttering feeling reappearing, despite the fact that you often hugged others like that, and the action being no different than your usual way of greeting him.

When you felt James’ body stiffen, you quickly released him, kind but apologetic smile on your face. You were looking good, James realised. Not in the sense that you suddenly looked incredibly stunning after the summer holiday or anything, although James had always thought you were quite pretty, but you looked relaxed. A delighted expression on your face. Positivity seemed to pour out of you and your smile was just captivating.

“Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?” You asked, concern lacing your voice. Before he could answer you, you continued. “I’m so sorry if I did, but I promise you, I have absolutely no feelings for you anymore, Prongs. Everything’s back to normal,” you sincerely assured him.

James smiled back at you, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you flush to his side while he guided you towards the train. “Everything's back to normal,” he cheerily affirmed, forcing himself to ignore the way his heart had dropped, and the forming pit in his stomach at your words.

“How was your summer,” he asked, before his mind could wander off and imagine what it would be like to be loved by you, instead.

part two

Taglist:

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @moonys0chocolate @grac3aph3lion @someonesuggestmeaname @mel-yldrm @yrseline @apiec @earfquak3 @yourvvenicebitch @venomsvl @leyla-ravenclaw @spacedangel @darrarii @shrekscrustybudassy @unleptwriter @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs @armydrcamers @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @georgesgingerpubes @ireallywannasleep127 @sayukoi @jsjcue

#james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #marauders era #james potter angst #james potter fic #james potter imagine #marauders #marauders fanfic

[jules-loves-lukecastellan]

| luke castellan x fem! reader

౨ৎ warnings ౨ৎ:

౨ৎ summary ౨ৎ: [reader] is very sick (like flu sick) and luke takes care of her

“Aww.. my angel’s sick? Don’t worry i’ll still kiss you.”

it was a cold, rainy day at camp. and lucky for you, you were very sick. like so sick that you were on cabin arrest. your eyes were red from exhaustion and your nose raw from how much you wiped your nose with as tissue.

it was the early morning and you were sadly woken up by the flaming heat from the blankets, but the shivers that went through your body from how cold you were at the same time.

“ughhh why did you have to take care of clarisse when she had the flu?” you said as your head fell back on your cotton pillowcase.

just then, you heard a gentle knock on the door. “who would possibly being willing to come into my cabin right now?” you mentally ask yourself. you’re taken out of your thoughts as your hear a second knock.

you roll your eyes, thinking who would be at the door. as you got out of bed and put on one of luke’s sweatshirts, you walked over and opened the door. you were met with the adorable, smiling face of the boy you fell in love with all those summers ago.

“hey sunshine. i heard you were sick. and as your boyfriend, it’s my duties to take care of my girlfriend!!” he said with a tray of cookies. your favorite.

“oh luke. i love you so much right now.” you say as you pull him in from the cold outside. “why thank y-“ “wait right now?!” he says, his mind backing up. you roll your eyes while smiling and jokingly say “yea? clarisse has my heart. you’re my sneaky link.”

you laugh as luke makes a hurt face out of jokes. you get back in your bed and he comes over and sits on the other side.

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it’s been a few hours of just a bunch of laughs, kisses, and cuddling. you were now in sleeps peaceful arms and luke was laying next to you, staring. he admired how relaxed your face looked when you slept, as if all weight or worry and sadness had been lifted off your shoulders.

your eyes slowly open up, only to be met with a lovesick luke. “hey stranger.” you say in a groggy morning voice while lightly smiling. “hey angel.” he says, smirking.

you both stare at each other for quite some time (comfortably ofc) just admiring one another’s features. luke admired your beautiful eyes, and soft lips. and you admired his chocolate eyes, perfect lips, and sexy scar.

you both snap out of it when your hear Chiron open the door. “hello miss.y/n how are you feel-“ “oh my word! luke get outside now! y/n is sick and needs rest, not her boyfriend. you’ll be cleaning the bathrooms for a week for this one.” he said sternly.

as luke walks out, he turns his heads back, winks, and blows a kiss to you. you smile, lovingly. you’re in love with luke castellan.

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౨ৎ a/n ౨ৎ- happy 2024 everyone! first imagine if the year done. sorry i think this one’s bad lol and it’s so short sorry </3 i hope you liked this at least and i hope 2024 treats u well🫶🏻

-jules🎀

⋆𖦹.✧˚taglist⋆𖦹.✧˚-

@t0byisher3 @simrah1012 @mimisamisasa @lizziesfirstwife

#lukecastellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #percyjackson #pjo x reader #pjoverse #pjo series #pjo tv show #x reader #boyfriend #fluff #perfect boyfriend #charliebushnellxreader #charlie bushnell #child of hermes #hermes

[onelittlespiral]

FML: Overbaked

I’m playing around with the format on these a little bit. This story has two endings, one of which is here and the other of which can be found here: FML: Underbaked

Consider this the more corruptive ending.

I’ll say up front that this one is on me. My boyfriend and I had been going steady for a while now. He was cute and smart, but after a few years he just wasn’t the kind of guy I could see myself spending the rest of my life with. Things had just gotten… bland. We hardly ever went on dates, spent most weekends apart doing our own hobbies, and sex was a bit like going through the motions. I wanted a change. So, I ordered one. A new “white noise” machine. But it did a bit more than that. You just adjusted the settings and in a few nights it could grow, shrink, age, add hair, add muscle. I think I even saw a setting for a gender flip. It cost a pretty penny but I figured it would be worth it. I ran it for a while with no settings, just so he would get used to it. But, when I had a business trip that was going to take me out of town for the weekend, I figured it was a perfect time to see what it could do.

Before I left I opened the hidden panel and decided to start pretty simple. I would just program it to make him bigger. More buff, more masculine, maybe a bit more dominant. Could be a nice change to get taken care of when I got back. I dialed in the knobs, said my goodbyes, and flew off for the weekend. Meanwhile, back at home, my sweet boyfriend dozed and grew, none the wiser to his changes. And there were some changes. By the time I flew in Sunday night, a whole new man was there to greet me.

“Hey babe, you miss me?” In just a few days he had ballooned in size. His biceps were thick, easily picking me up into an embrace. His pecs were strong and juicy as I held onto them while gazing in his eyes. His kiss was strong and assertive, as he slipped his tongue in my mouth. He tasted like whiskey and smelled like fresh cut sandalwood. And his cock was girthy, as I felt it slowly swell and press up against me. I gave in as he pushed me down to the bed and unbuttoned his jeans. My pants were on the floor in a moment as I laid back in just my jockstrap, ready to receive him.

He pulled me down to the end of the bed, and slowly massaged my puckering hole. I don’t know if the machine somehow taught him how to handle me but as he worked is fingers inside it was so easy to relax and let him stretch me out. He replaced his fingers. I felt his cock, firm and throbbing, as it slid into me. I squeezed as I adjusted to his new size. I felt so full, but it just kept sliding in. As he began to hit my prostate a surprising moan escaped my lips.

“That’s right babe, open up for me.” He leaned in and gave me a kiss. His beard was soft, his lips pillowy. I felt every motion of his body, every little adjustment sent a throbbing through my body. “You’re so cute like this. You ready for daddy’s cock?”

I could only let out an anticipatory whimper as he slowly began thrusting. With one hand he caressed my torso, the other he held my shoulders in place. I was anchored down as he picked up steam. Soon both hands were on my shoulders as he put his weight behind the thrusts. I tried to tell him to slow down, but something about how assertive and confident he was kept the words from my lips. And then it hardly mattered, as he found my prostate and my mind dissolved. He was destroying my ass as all I could do was try not to drool all over myself. All thought was consumed by pleasure as his balls slapped heavy against my ass.

“Fuck, you’re such a good boy. Your ass is so tight. Fuck it feels amazing.”

“Huuuhnuh…ahhh…uhhhhhh…fuck…meeeeee”

I could feel it coming. I tried to ride the waves of ecstasy but he was not letting up. Suddenly he inhaled sharply.

“God, I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.” he cried. He made no signs of slowing down.

“Cum…cum in-me.” I was about to burst.

He let out a deep growl as with a final thrust he plunged into me and the floodgates opened. At the same time I saw stream after stream hit his chest. We came at the same time. Panting he ran his finger down his chest and popped a thick glob in his mouth

“Yeah, you even taste delicious.”

This time I pulled him to me, kissing his beautiful face as he slowly pulled himself out of me with a wet pop.

And that should have been it. It should have stayed that way. It was supposed to be amazing. But, somehow, life always gets complicated.

It started with work. Maybe it was a side effect. With how he carried himself, he couldn’t help but turn heads when he entered a room. He would talk about how well respected he was, how all of a sudden people gave a shit when he said something. I guess it came with the territory. But that respect turned into a promotion, and that promotion had him working later and later hours. Plus, with his new body, he had to maintain it. He spent at least two hours at the gym, lifting and running and stretching. He would come home smelling musky, and I would basically be waiting in the bedroom to suck on his sweaty cock. Those nights were some of the best. But then he made friends, gym bros to hang out with, and he would get home well into the night, too tired to do much but watch TV before passing out. Then, my work project turned south at the end of the year. Our client was furious and I had to fly out almost every other weekend to some meeting to plead for time or try to get the project back on track. It felt like we just kept missing each other.

“I know it’s been hard to manage time but can we please have this weekend,” he begged one Thursday night, “I miss you. I miss us.”

I sighed, “I can’t. We just have to make it to the spring when we launch and it should be good. But until then I have to keep up with these clients.”

“I know, I know but can’t they send someone else?” He came in close and began to stroke my hair, “I need my good little boy here.”

I flushed and turned away, “You know I’ve been working for years to close this project out. I can’t just leave it when we are this close to the finish line.”

He looked hurt, “So instead you’re just leaving me behind?”

I snapped my head back to his, “You’re one to talk. I feel like I haven’t seen you in months. One promotion and suddenly you want to lecture me on my career? Plus all the time you spend with your gym buds. Enjoying the sauna together?” The moment I said it I knew I crossed the line

“…I’m going to bed.” He slammed the bedroom door behind him.

“BABE! No, that’s not what I meant. Please-” I jiggled the locked handle. No response. Dejected, I turned towards the couch, collecting what throw pillows and little blankets I could.

I tossed and turned all night, yet when I woke up he had already slipped out without a word. I wandered back to the bedroom and tried to find solace in the shower. Warm water ran down my back as mulled over the prior evening. When did things get so tough? It felt like just yesterday we were just some freshly graduated kids, now we hardly saw our friends or each other, just crunched all day at the office. Things back then were so… simple. That’s it! I shut off the water and quickly dried off. In the bedroom sat the machine. We had kept using it just for the white noise. Worked like a charm, who knew? It may have been what caused all this, but maybe it held a solution. There was the knob I was looking for: simple. I took it and cranked it up. I needed change and I really needed it quick. Two nights would perfect. If it was anything like last time, by the time I am back Sunday night this could all be solved. I threw a bag together for my trip and went off to the airport. Today I would give him space, and by tomorrow I had a hunch the problem would practically solve itself…

I woke up the next day, groggy from the flight and meetings yesterday. I was not looking forward to another full day today. Just then, my phone buzzed next to me. A text came through from my boyfriend:

got a long day ahead babe. miss u 😘

He looked so… care free. There wasn’t a bag under his eyes. And he never just texted to say he missed me. He never seemed to have time. Seeing him with his arm frown back and that stupid little smirk got me going more than I expected it to. I texted back:

I miss you too. I hope you aren’t too bogged down with meetings today. Love ❤️

He responded: no meeting’s, boss had a safety talk last week. just work

Safety talk? Whatever, I’m sure he would be fine. Probably one of those cyber security talks from the 2000’s. Either way, I couldn’t dwell on it too long. Had to get ready for this team meeting.

The weekend was a blur. Meeting, crunch, eat repeat for two days straight. I hardly had time for myself, much less checking in on my boyfriend’s progress. But he seemed to be coming along nicely, and I could surmise a bit. His stressful job in engineering had been replaced with construction site manager, then just a regular blue-collar worker. His texts had become more casual, and when I talked with him for a few minutes Sunday morning he was kicking back with some friends having a beer. He even took a nap Sunday afternoon, speeding him along maybe a little further than I would have liked. He sent me this text when he woke up as I was on my way to the airport:

Mmm, I miss u, gonna need ass when ur back

The next text was just a picture of his rigid cock. I chuckled a bit. I definitely had gone a bit too far but we could adjust that later.

I miss you too babe. You should probably get up. I’ll be home in a few hours and you can have me then 😉

Little did I know.

I hopped out of my cab and began working through airport security. I made it to my gate with plenty of time to spare. While I had made it to the gate, the plane, evidently had not. Winds and snow out of the northwest had delayed it. It was supposed to be an hour delay. But as one became two, the storm system had moved south.

Passengers of flight AM267, we regret to inform you that your flight has been delayed. With the current storm system, we are not projecting to be able to leave till tomorrow at 8:47am. On behalf-

I tuned out as my mind began to race. Tomorrow? That would throw off my whole work week! And the product launch would have to be delayed even further if I’m not there…

I began crunching the numbers on how far back this would set us as I hopped on a shuttle to the nearest hotel. With the sudden influx, it took a few hours before I was checked into my economy room next to the elevator. I had made the necessary calls to my team letting them know about the situation and… oh shit. I didn’t even call my boyfriend! He’s probably still waiting up for me. Quickly I fired off a text letting him know what was up. The day had been exhausting, I wouldn’t be up for much tonight anyways. I didn’t even change out of my jeans as I passed out on my bed.

The next morning the storm had passed, so it was back to the airport to catch my flight. We were luckier than most, I figured it would take them at last 2 days to be fully back on schedule. Still, everything had been thrown out of sync with the delay. It was almost 2:30 by the time I was sliding my key into the front door. I walked upstairs to throw my luggage in the bedroom when I stopped outside the door. Inside, I could hear a faint crackle, like the fray of a radio. Just the sound gave me a headache, and I felt an itch in my teeth. And then it clicked, and my stomach dropped. I threw open the door and immediately turned off the machine that had been running all day. A faint breathing was behind me. I turned and my eyes went wide.

There he was, still laid back on the bed, hat on his head, wide awake. The thousand yard stare said it all. He had been listening all night and all day.

I tried to shake him awake to no avail. He was lost in whatever fog had dulled his brain.

“Need… ass… need fuck…” he mumbled. Drool started to drip out his mouth.

I turned back the machine and pried off the back panel. I began urgently analyzing switches and knobs, trying to determine which would reverse the changes. Even just a way to turn the damn thing off. It just kept buzzing and buzzing and buzzing… I felt a tight grip around my waist.

“Come babe, you want cock?”

My boyfriend had come out of his stupor, but not much. His cross-eyed stare had set itself on my body. His paws were rested firmly on my hips as he drug me closer to him.

“Let me go, I need to figure this out”

“No,” he slurred, “I need you.” He leaned in for a sloppy kiss. He tasted salty and sour. His beard was far more unkept and rough. He smelled virile this close, musky and horny. “You like simple,” he said. No, not said. Commanded. All that daddy energy he brought before was somehow put behind those words, and for a moment I felt submissive to him. And he only needed that moment. “Come.” He lifted his arm and stared into my eyes. A wave of stench rolled down and hit my senses with a crash.

His gaze, the smell, and the buzzing in my ears. It was all too much as I was drawn towards his pit. I resisted for a moment, giving a hesitant whiff under his gaze. He made no movement. He didn’t have to. I was soon buried in his pit as I huffed his stupefying scent. In the back of my mind I knew this wasn’t right, that I was supposed to be fighting back. But a different whisper entered my mind:

Didn’t I want this? Wasn’t this my choice? Who was it that wanted it to all be so simple?

He pulled me out for a moment to slip my shirt off before I dove back in. At this point I was practically drooling, and I began cleaning him with my tongue. He stroked my chest and back, squeezing my pecs. They felt soft beneath his firm grasp. He soon switched me to the other side and muttered to me:

“Good boy. So horny.”

I was. I was so horny. The more I licked the more my crotch throbbed. My cock was rigid at attention as he pulled me out of his pits.

He’s so hot. Need him. Need cock.

No, no my brain tried to scream, but it sounded distant. A thick fog was between me and my thoughts. Maybe it should stay that way…

My boyfriend stood up and I fell to the floor. Slowly, he began pulling off his jeans.

I instinctively turned over to receive his cock. My ass was already slick, wet in expectation. Even having sex was so simple. As he pressed his cock against my hole it slid in like a key in a lock. It just felt right. And as he gripped my shoulders and began to fuck me, each thrust felt like a thought was popped in my head. He growled a deep, primal growl as the last thoughts I ever had washed away in the waves of pleasure radiating through my body. My brain felt like the static from the machine. The only thing I had left was instinct. And instinct was telling me to ride the man behind me.

“Fu-uck- m-me- up- da-ah-ddy”

He only grunted as he increased the pace. It felt like hours as the ebbs and flows of our libidos managed to keep us both on edge, so close but never finishing. Till finally, I couldn’t take it any more. I could only manage a moan as I came all over the bedsheets.

“Fuck that’s so hot.” he said, and with one final thrust filled my guts with his dumb cum. Hehe. Cum. As he slid out I couldn’t handle any more. I passed out face down ass up on the bed.

The next morning I was horny again. And then by lunch. And then by bed time. Days blended together as we fucked, ate, worked out, and slept together. The machine next to our bed never got turned off. Wasn’t there something I was supposed to do with it? Eh, it was too complex. Best to leave it alone as I had my brain fucked out for the third time today. I don’t know how we got by. We never moved out of our house. We always got food with no problems. Anyone who came by would just do whatever we asked. The few times anyone came inside they quickly learned that it was a lot easier to simply give in. If they resisted, babe would simply take them back to the bedroom until they changed their minds. They would come out all smiles, agreeable to whatever we needed. It was as simple as that.

#male transformation #musk #transformation #fml #jockification #reality change #himboification #bro

[ghouljams]

(Not here for) You Words: ~3k Tags: Knight!Ghost x Princess!Reader, politics, discussions of regicide, König causing problems on purpose, period typical misogyny, knight!Keegan Summary: König asked to speak to you privately, and you are eager to hear what he has to say. Though once he opens his mouth you wish he hadn't. You detest men like him. Prev Part and Master List (art: Sower of Temptation by Seb McKinnon) A/N: This chapter will not make much sense without reading the rest of the Knight!Ghost au. We're getting into the actual meat of the story, and this is not a one-shot style fic as I usually do with my chapters. This is a plot heavy chapter, lots of exposition, but it's important so... you know where the ask box is to complain...

You’re the first one out of the dining room, though you can hear König close behind. It takes everything in you not to run, would he chase you? You hope he’d think you too much trouble to even bother. One measly princess is hardly worth a chase. You pass Ghost and see his fist clench. There’s a part of you that cries out for him, that begs for him to follow you. There’s another part that knows you’ve already dismissed him, that knows if you look behind you, you’ll see your new guard not your most loyal knight. You pause at the garden entrance, König’s long strides having easily caught up to you, now you’re simply contemplating your next move. 

“There’s been a miscommunication,” König tells you lowly, again you find he isn’t looking at you, his eyes search the garden instead through the window, “I have no desire to marry you, or really anyone who seems so distressed by the thought.” You cringe.

It feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Thank God. “I’m not distressed,” You lie. His eyes dart down to look at you, hard and uncaring. What a pathetic princess you must seem to him. You would have thought a man like him would prefer easy prey.

“Please, you are like a rabbit-” His hand reaches towards you, “-trying to escape a trap. Frantic. Pitiful.” He stops just before touching your cheek, you hold your ground, set your shoulders and stand a little taller. “Already caught by someone else,” He grumbles under his breath, his eyes narrowing with annoyance. He clenches his hand beside your cheek, his knuckles just brushing your skin. His hand is huge, you wonder how many ladies have broken under it. You think about the blood soaked into his skin.

He wouldn’t hurt you here, not with witnesses. You glance over your shoulder and see Ghost, meet his eye, watch the heavy movement of his shoulders as he breathes. Your knight stands beside him, his hand on his stretched across Ghost’s chest. 

“What are you doing?” You whisper, your breath catching as you feel König lean closer. You watch Ghost’s jaw clench tight, his fingers gripping the hilt of his sword like a lifeline.

“I haven’t had anyone try to kill me in a while,” You can hear König’s smile, “I’m interested to see how he’d do it.” Your eyes widen. You know how he’d do it, just how you know if he failed you’d lose Ghost forever. You push König away from you, swat at his hand, and he grabs your face tight to turn you, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“Stop it,” You plead, your voice a flinch above a whisper. To have Ghost taken away from you a second time is a crime you wouldn’t be able to survive, a thought you can’t stomach. 

“Would he go for my throat?” König wonders, his fingers still hovering, trailing from your cheek to your throat, reenacting his own demise on your skin, “I wonder, if I held a knife to your pretty neck would he plead for your life?” König’s head tips, the mask he wears moves with him, clinking metal, and you realize it’s mail. Impossibly small and well made, flowing like fabric. How many men have gone for his head that he’s had to protect himself like this. “You pretty things, you make men weak, give me the chance to add their heads to my wall while you cry.”

“Bastard,” You spit, push König away from you, swat at his hand. He grabs your face tight to turn you, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“So you do have some fight in you,” His eyes blaze with something that makes your stomach churn, you push at his chest and his grip tightens, “you will never get what you want like that Prinzessin. Useless, pathetic thing.” He shakes you, and you hear a sword being drawn, the clatter of armor moving, your knight's low voice as he speaks to Ghost. “Your man can’t save you,” König promises, “you have to do it.”

“You’re hurting me,” You tell him, he’s squeezing your jaw too tight, the inside of your cheeks cutting against your teeth. König’s breath hitches, and you think your heart stops with it.

“Then tell me to stop,” He commands, “This is your palace,-” another shake, “-your kingdom,-” and another, “-your right to command me, so do it.”

“Let me go.” You order, your voice breaking a little as you push at him. His grip releases with a shake in his fingers, quickly clenched into a massive fist. You swallow, resist the urge to look away from him as König rolls his shoulder back and takes his full height.

“You must always take what you want,” König advises you, “Or someone else will take it from you and you will be left with nothing.”

“And what about you,” You ask, holding the cold gaze that still regards you like an insect to be crushed, “what are you here to take?”

König hums, you can see his mouth working under his mask, considering your question. “You would do well to find your spine before you promise something you can’t take back,” He says finally, "but rest assured, I'm not here for you." 

-

Ghost couldn’t stomach leaving you, couldn’t pretend he loved you if he was so willing to throw you to that… animal. He drags his feet, searching for reason to stay near the dining room, near you. Your new guard, Keegan, is well trained and quick with a knife, but he isn’t him. Ghost is better by leaps and miles. The only reason to replace him is because the king is not so much of a fool as he looks, and is trying to marry you off without Ghost around to persuade you otherwise.

He paces the hall like a bear in a cage, feels his blood rushing in his veins, hot and heady. His armor is heavy, his gloves creaking with the strain of his clenched fist. The doors open and you pass him, your eyes lingering on him, pleading. He knows you like he knows his own heart, follows your command even when you can’t give him a word. He falls in line beside Keegan and notes the knight’s glance as well as he notes his silence.

It’s good of him to say nothing, it would serve no one to go making a scene now.

König raises his hand to touch you and Ghost feels his pulse jump. He takes a step forward, hand reaching for the hilt of his blade on instinct. Keegan’s arm stops him, his breath shakes his armor, his eyes trained on König. The man glances at him, his eyes crinkling just slightly at the edges. Bastard.

You look back at him and Ghost feels his heart rate jump, trying to judge whether that’s fear or panic or what in your eyes. You don’t even need to give the word, he’d cut this man’s hand off just for trying to touch you. King or not, Ghost hardly thinks status matters in this. Seeing your tears earlier was enough reason to strike him down. Losing a hand would be nothing.

You swat at König’s hand, and he grabs you roughly, shakes you like a toy. “Useless, he calls you. Ghost growls, feels the weight of his sword as it leaves the sheath.

“Her highness can take care of herself,” Keegan hisses at him. His hand pushes firmly against his chest, Ghost hardly thinks he has the strength to stop him.

“She doesn’t have to,” He growls. A hand isn’t enough, he should have his throat slit. Ghost thinks a kill like that might put him back on your service. Ghost’s vision tunnels when you push König again, one twitch of your hand and he’d set his blade to everyone in this hall. Starting with König.

"He's baiting you," Keegan presses, his voice low and even. The knight hardly glances at König, doesn't need to, Ghost knows he's right. You're nothing but something to play with to men like König, nothing but a pretty gem to wave about and make other men jealous.

With grit teeth Ghost sheaths his sword. He won’t leave you, not yet, but he’ll stay his hand. “Remove your hand sergeant,” Ghost tells him, a reminder of his rank, and a dangerous warning. Don’t interfere, he means to say. Keegan gives it a beat before returning to his rest position, his eyes trained on you for orders. A good soldier, a good knight, a worse dog. Ghost watches you like he could carve his name into your skin with just his glare. He wants,

He wants too much. He wants what he can’t have. He wants,

He wants you to run to him, he wants you to call his name, he wants you to give him an order, any order. He wants,

And in the end he’s left with nothing.

Left to watch you walk through the garden with a king who could never care for you the way you deserve.

-

He isn’t here for you, and that’s all that matters. It tastes like bile on your tongue that you could be so selfish, that you could behave in such a way, hope against such a thing. It should be an honor to be considered by a king, and yet you dreaded the thought enough to run from it. König is right, you are useless. You have no command, hold little respect, you are a princess in name only. You’re a prize set out for the highest bidder, and you would promise anything to keep yourself from being stolen off your throne. Not because you want the throne, but because it’s safe there. Because Ghost is there. 

Take what you want he says, like it’s as easy for you as it is for him. It’s so easy for men. They take what they like and think nothing of the hurt they cause. If you were to truly take what you liked your reputation would be in tatters, your name dragged through the mud and your legitimacy, the monarchy’s legitimacy questioned. Divine right rests on your parent’s shoulders, not your own. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” You press when you feel you’ve been silent too long, “Why are you here?”

“Why should I tell you?” König hardly looks at you, seemingly a perfect gentleman as you walk. He doesn’t look, doesn’t touch, hardly seems to notice you at all, but his eyes sweep the castle walls, with military focus. He makes you shiver just standing close.

“It’s my kingdom, as you pointed out, and my command that you tell me.” You dislike the way your authority draws his attention, the way he responds to commands with all the interest of a rabid dog. The world would be better off if he were put down. You hold your ground when he looks at you, though the raw malice makes you want to run and hide.

“You would do well not to poke bears little girl,” He warns you, before returning his gaze to its previous hold. Your heart falters, but he speaks again. “My kingdom’s generals still hold allegiance to the former king, Idiotin, and I need a replacement before I take their heads the same as his.”

“You’re bringing in outside allegiances,” You may as well be talking to yourself, but he nods. It feels good to talk politics with someone, your father certainly never entertains the idea that you could have a brain in your head. “They’d be reliant on you, aggressive towards dissenters, disposable and scared,” another nod, “that’s quite smart.”

König hums, agreeing with your assessment, “and your father has a rather talented knight he’s eager to be rid of.” Your heart stops, you very nearly stop. König’s hand grabs your arm and urges you forward, you don’t stumble, but you want to, dragged along the walk as you try to pick your heart off the ground. “Dogs should not bark at their masters,” König continues, pulling you along the path, “and this one, seems confused as to who his master is.”

You jerk your arm from his grip- no, he allows you to jerk your arm from his grip. There is no strength you could exert against this man that would measure up to his own. It’s a kindness that he releases you.

“You can’t have him,” You tell him and König rounds on you. Stops to stand in front of you, leaning low and quick like an animal as he spits,

“Wrong.” 

You recoil, take a step back away from the beast and he follows. “I can and will have whatever I wish for,” He impresses his will upon you. Your eyes dart away from his, back to Ghost and Keegan, your knights watching their spineless princess. Your word is only a command as far as it is amusing. You are not König, don’t have the raw strength and intimidation. You can’t take what you want the way he can. Not when you’re taking from men like him.

“You don’t want him,” You tell König, your eyes locked on Ghost.

“Why not?”

“He’s-” you search for something, anything wrong with Ghost, but for you he’s perfect, he’s always been perfect. He’s a traitor to the king for kissing you, he’s mad for sticking by you despite being taken off your service, he’s a knight that serves no king. He’s skilled, he���s a hard worker, there’s no one better in the kingdom, no one you would recommend more highly, no one you would more sorely part with. “I don’t know,” You admit.

König’s shadow leaves you as the man straightens up. Somehow you think that was the right answer. He isn’t watching you when you look at him again. “Your father is holding a contest and when your dog wins I will take him.” He doesn’t pull you after him this time, but he doesn’t have to, “find a reason to stop me Hasse.” He pauses, looks back at you, his eyes crease at the edges and you feel a chill run down your spine, “Or kill your father, I find that works just as well.”

-

It’s dark when Ghost pulls his door open and finds you. You must be freezing in your nightclothes, wrapped in a thick robe and staring up at him like you hold all the stars in your eyes. It’s just the flicker of candles making your eyes sparkle, but it stills his heart. If he were a better man he might turn you away. Instead his eyes dart to your lady-in-waiting, she’d do well to keep her mouth shut.

“Princess,” He leans against the door frame, crosses his arms over his chest, anything to keep from touching you, “it’s late.”

His eyes feel heavy when they rest on you, he can’t pull them where he wants, can’t rest them where they’re drawn. There’s a weight in his chest that could be lifted only by your hands. You’re quiet, pensive, he keeps his eyes on yours and not the way your chest moves with each breath you take. It’s late, and in his exhaustion he imagines laying his head against your breasts, imagines the warmth of your skin.

“Do you love me?” You ask so quickly that he hardly has time to tear his eyes from your chest. Damn things keep drifting.

“I’m your knight,” Ghost tells you, it’s his duty to love you, but he knows that isn’t what you’re asking. He can see it in your face as you swallow the doubt in your throat. You nod, and he wishes he could take it back, that he’d said the words you wanted him to say.  If he were a better man…He wouldn’t reach to cup your cheek, wouldn’t brush his thumb against the soft skin and ask, “Are you alright, princess?”

You push into his touch like a frightened animal. He wonders if you are, if you’ve been spooked into a corner. He wants to ask, wants to pry into a life he’s no longer a part of. He doesn’t. Instead he lets you hold his wrist tight, and watches you turn your head to kiss his palm. He feels flames licking at his rips watching your pretty plush lips push against his calloused flesh, too rough to receive such delicate attention.

“I don’t know what to do,” You tell him, your voice watery, desperate. 

“Do what you do best,” He wishes he could draw you close, wishes he could pull you into his room and shut the door, wishes you were his the way he’s yours, “give me an order.”

You shake your head, your smile could break his heart in a million ways. Give me an order, he silently pleads, let me take the pain away. I love you, he wants to say. You move his hand away from your face, and he drops it to his side. The walls have ears, and your lady-in-waiting is not as tight lipped as he would like.

“I should go back to my room.” Ghost nods, he wishes you wouldn’t. He knows you have to. He catches your arm when you turn to leave, pushes down the words that rise like bile in his throat.

He can’t be saved, not from this, not when he knows what he’d do for you. What he’d do to you. You have to understand what you do to him, how he burns for you. There’s no one safe from his blade if you command it, no man that can touch you without him allowing it. If he doesn’t love you- If he doesn’t love you then he doesn’t know what this is.

“Of course I do,” He says lowly, feeling the breath of it rasp in his throat. He holds your gaze, sees your eyes soften for him.

“Good night Ghost,” You whisper. He drops his hand to squeeze your finger, once, gentle as he can, and lets you go.

“Good night, my lady.” If he were a better man...

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