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luvvyouforever · 3 days

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starcrossed - azriel shadowsinger x reader

-> in a world in which the cauldron grew tired of mates never finding each other, faeries are born with a constellation of stars on their skin that match only one other faerie. after years of never finding your match, everything snapped into place.

-> acotar soulmate au! some sweet fluff mostly with a little action in it :) i just have something for writing about azriel meeting his mate i can't help it. i also don't know how i feel about this writing so don't judge it too harshly please <3

rhysand's town home was packed with the night court and the utter largeness of their presence. azriel and cassian did not bother to tuck their wings in and instead let them drape over the back of the couch where they sat with legs spread. mor and amren took up arm chairs on either side of the couch, feyre was seated calmly next to rhysand, and you were perched on the edge of the couch closest to azriel.

an emergency meeting was called and within seconds of the communication going out, the living room was filled and heartbeats were racing. emergency meetings were reserved for dire cases only as each member of the court was impossibly busy with their own duties.

"there's a lot of movement happening in hybern right now and we don't like the sound of it," rhysand said with a serious, grave voice. "things are going to happen sooner than we would like, but we need to be prepared. knowledgeable."

azriel shifted in his seat which made you straighten out your back and prepare for your duties. you had an odd position in the night court as both healer and spy when need be. you worked and trained with azriel to assist him in the field and when he shifted in his seat, you knew that you were about to be gone for several days once more.

"azriel and y/n will go to hybern to listen in and try to figure out what they are working towards. mor will stay here in velaris in case what they are preparing holds danger over our people's heads. cassian, feyre, and i will go to illyria and alert them of new information. amren will continue to read these books because it may just be our last line of defense," rhysand called out orders with the grace of a high lord who was made for this job.

you noticed how feyre's hands trembled with nervousness and her fingers ran over the small pattern of stars on her wrist. rhysand's hand intertwined with hers and as an act of reassurance, he flipped his hand over, revealing his own pattern of stars to feyre again.

watching the interaction, your own hand traveled up to your collarbone where there rested your own little constellation of stars. the stars that would signal to you that you had found your mate, the one for you, forever. and yet, the years pass and you had yet to find that person with the matching constellation along their collarbone.

suddenly, azriel's hand touching you shoulder brought you out of your reverie. "come on, let's go get ready," he said. you stood up and followed him up the stairs of the town home to the roof where he held his arms open for you to climb into so you didn't have to walk to the house of wind.

"do you think this'll be a bad mission?" you asked azriel over the whipping of wind around your heads. his wing subtlety closed in on you so that you wouldn't have to strain to hear his words.

"i don't know. hybern could be planning anything. we need to be on our guard at all times," he answered back. even his shadows seemed to be nervous about what was coming. they whirled around your figure, one coming to rest on your collarbone, just above the stars.

azriel's feet landed with a soft thud on the shores of hybern. with gentle movements, he released you from his arms where you adjusted your clothing after so long spent flying. you were dressed in illyrian fighting gear, blades strapped all along your chest. down along your waist, however, were not more weapons but rather healing supplies that would prove important in a dire situation.

azriel was a vision of coldness. his gaze was fixed upon the land before him and despite the wind from the sea messing your hair, he was perfectly fine. on his body was matching illyrian fighting gear with his blue syphons gleaming brightly. truth-teller was sitting on his torso, gems glinting in the sun.

there was a second where you felt something deep down flutter, an unexplained notion that azriel was attractive but it was squashed upon entry. you had a job to do and that job was not staring at the high lord's spymaster despite the odd urges in your chest calling you to do so.

azriel sent his shadows ahead of the two of you as scouts, whispering in his ear of the things they saw ahead. you followed behind him silently, feet carefully stepping on the ground and eyes scanning every inch of what lay before you.

suddenly, a shadow perked up and pointed azriel to the left of both of you. there, a soft hum sounded from something and you weren't sure what it was which was all the more terrifying. azriel didn't dare to move an inch closer and your feet held the same pause.

"what is that?" you whispered as quietly as possible.

"i don't know," he whispered back. "stay alert. i don't want anything to happen to you."

later, when you were safe, you would wonder what prompted him to say that. was it the fact that you held the healing supplies which he knew nothing about? was it because you were his best partner in these missions? or was there something else? the pull that you had felt earlier?

none of that mattered right now though. right now, there was a mysterious hum coming from the left of you on territory that it is growing more dangerous to be on by the minute. azriel thought for a second, his careful eyes trained to his side. slowly, he went to grab a small blade from the holster around his hip when his large wing brushed against the ground. within a matter of milliseconds, hundreds of ash daggers shot from the origin of the humming.

you rolled, dodged, ducked, and winnowed all to avoid the attack. in the midst of the chaos, you lost sight of azriel which petrified you.

"azriel!" you shouted with little care about who on hybern heard you.

in just a few short moments, the ash dagger swarm stopped and in the silence, you heard a faint male groaning coming from behind you. with a turn quick enough to make your head spin, you found azriel on the ground, clutching at his sides which were rapidly spilling blood. with a whisper of a swear, you dropped to your knees to examine the damage.

your hands found the buttons on his gear, but with great effort, his hands stopped yours. "you gotta get out of here," he choked out.

"no, i'm not leaving you here. i won't," you whispered back, shrugging his grip on your hands off. it would be difficult to do, but you could winnow the two of you out of here, at least off of hybern's land. your palm found azriel's shoulder and for a second you felt like you were falling, but then you appeared on the shores away from hybern. the mortal lands, you realized. it was a risky manuever, but the beach seemed clear of humans. despite azriel's groans, you dragged him back from the ocean and to the forest line.

the fighting gear you had on was impossibly heavy and only inhibiting your ability to efficiently help azriel. with a quick flourish, you tugged off the leather, revealing the thin tank top you wore underneath. there at the top of your collarbone peaked the tattoo of stars which you had completely forgotten about. azriel made no noise, but his eyes immediately fell to the patch.

"i have to take these off of you so i can see where you're hurt," you told azriel. if he protested, you would still have to do it. the wound was too deep and too messy to heal from the outside.

gently, you pulled the leather away from azriel's body which caused him to groan more. with one final wince, he laid on the rough ground shirtless. there, at the top of his collarbone, was a littering of stars. in the same pattern as your own. there was no notice on your part as the wound your hands were currently working on healing took up your attention.

but then, just as you reached for an ointment tucked in the pocket of your pants, there was a touch to your hand. you looked up finally with a wild look in your eyes that told azriel how panicked you were about losing him.

that moment of eye contact, while azriel is slowly healing himself, while you were breathing deeply to calm your worry, is when it snapped. your eyes shot down to his collarbone where the tattoo of stars seemed to shine. azriel reached out a weak arm to trace your own version of the stars on your collarbone.

"i really didn't expect that, you know?" you whispered.

there was that pull again, the one from earlier. and then azriel's shadows reached out to you again, dancing around your form, circling the spot on your collarbone as they had before. they knew long before you did.

"there's no better time like the present," azriel shrugged but immediately followed it up with a groan.

you were shook back into reality and continued your healing. your eyes kept flitting back and forth from the wound closing on azriel's side to the stars on his collarbone that matched yours.

the man that you had spent so long side by side with. the man that you learnt everything from. the man that was your closest companion for years. when he felt strong enough, you would winnow him closer and closer to the night court before he could fly into velaris. there, you'd take him to your kitchen, make him dinner, and accept the bond.

for now, you appreciated this feeling of quiet understanding in both of you that you had found the one you were meant to be with, no matter if the bond snapped into place on a beach in the mortal lands with your healing hands tirelessly working on your mate.

#acotar #acotar series #fluff #fanfic #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #i don't know how to feel about this #but i think i like it #i don't know

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ecoamerica · 23 days

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adrinktostopyourthirst · 3 days

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Bucky Barnes | Series | Loose

Part two of the Rebellion Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Plot: You and Bucky have no idea whether you can trust each other. There is an understanding, but you're not sure of what that understanding is and why it seems to run so deep.

Warning: Angst, violence and fluff (?)

Words: 4,1OO

It is hard enough already for Bucky to fall asleep at night. Yes, it has gotten better in recent years, but there will always be that part of him – awake and aware – that registers every sound and movement, even when he should be knocked out. Though he wouldn’t admit it, that part of him sat more alert ever since you had joined the building. Perhaps because Bucky still wasn’t so confident in your allegiance.

He can’t stop overthinking it. He has seen what you’re capable of. Would you be capable of even more if people cornered you? If you felt like you had no other choice but to manipulate and kill your way out? After all, wasn’t it possible that you felt like you had moved from one prison to the next?

You’d been a delight at dinner two nights ago, but Bucky can’t turn off his brain. This is the part that made you win people over. The way you’d gotten along with Natasha like a house on fire, the way you’d shared stories like you and his team had been friends all along… Yet you had no trouble letting a side of yours slip through the cracks that tantalised Bucky beyond belief. The way you had looked at him, teased him–

The faintest rustle has Bucky shooting back to his current place in time. Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. He holds his breath in an effort to hear better.

Nothing.

However, something doesn’t sit right. Something is off. He’d learned that hypervigilance was a side effect of his trauma, but he had a hard time believing his intuition would betray him like that. Not when he had relied on it so successfully for years.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” he whispers to the dark ceiling.

“Yes, sergeant Barnes?”

“Is everyone in their respectable rooms?” he tries.

“I cannot divulge that information,” the voice sounds and Bucky sighs. He musters up some strength and swings off his duvet before climbing out of bed.

Yeah, he doesn’t trust you for a second.

…

Your heart is pounding in your throat. This isn’t part of your skillset – the escape and combat. Though perhaps if you do the former correctly, you won’t have to resort to the latter. Escaping the compound had been surprisingly easy, which strangely made your chest hurt. It was way too easy to escape. But it made sense. Steve had told you that you weren’t being held captive and you being here was all in good faith.

Faith you just broke by making your escape.

You probably should have been more patient. Winning their trust a bit more and then making an escape, make sure they really don’t see it coming. But the dinner had made you antsy and impatient. You had to get out.

If you’re entirely honest with yourself, you know that getting attached to a new group of people and deciding to escape then – or worse, leading them into their demise later – would be worse than getting away now that no one has attached themselves to you. Or you to them…

Breaching the edge of the surrounding forest, you finally let go of the breath you’ve been holding. You did it. Out of sight, out of mind. You’re free. No more captivity, no more expectations. All you need to do now is leave the country, change your name and possibly dye your hair. Sounds easy enough. A bit dramatic, but not impossible.

That is, until you get dragged backwards by a hand over your mouth and you lose your footing. The hard body behind you is the only thing keeping you from tumbling to the muddy forest grounds. Your breathing is ragged as your hands both fly to grab the forearm attached to the hand covering your yelp.

The metal forearm.

“Rule number one of making your escape: never assume you’re in the clear,” Bucky’s voice rumbles through the night air, his mouth so very close to your ear. “Shouldn’t have dropped your guard when you reached the edge of the forest.”

His gloved hand removes itself from your mouth, but you know better than to make a run for it, or to scream. He twists you by your shoulders and you muster some playful guilt to your face, masking your disappointment. Disappointment… but you feel strangely relieved. Maybe the largeness of finally being free felt somewhat overwhelming. Move to another country and change your name? It’s ridiculous. And that, when the people here have been so patient and kind to you…

You let out a soft laugh, “Worth a shot, no?”

Bucky studies you intently and something in your gut stirs at it. Not even Natasha seems to have as good of a read on you as Bucky does. It makes you feel naked. Makes you feel like all of your carefully crafted plans are flimsy and no good. Makes you feel like you have to stay far, far away from Bucky. Like you need to run. Now.

And how the hell did he manage to figure out you were making your escape?

You wait for him to tell you off, preach against your indolence and call in backup to shove you into something more similar to a prison cell. But Bucky sighs, disappointed and tired.

He seems so, so tired.

“Let’s go back inside,” he says and you furrow your brows at him.

His defeat has your chest clenching tightly. You want him to punish you, scold you. At least show that he cares. Why? You’re not sure. Maybe you need to know that the relief you felt from being caught is somewhat mutual in a sense. That the people here don’t just see you as a weapon, despite the burden, but that you’re someone worth saving. Worth keeping around.

Worth healing.

“That’s it?” you ask. “No scolding or punishment?”

Bucky scoffs humourlessly. “You get a kick out of punishment, darling?”

You roll your eyes. “Seriously.”

“I’m not your fucking baby sitter,” he mutters and starts walking back to the building, rightfully assuming you’ll follow. “If you want, I can ask Steve to tell you off in the morning. He’s better at that sort of thing anyway.”

Some pathetic part of you wants to sulk at his response like an ill-tempered child. “Then why come after me?”

It stays quiet for a second as you cross the field towards the compound. “I couldn’t let a poor escape plan be successful.”

You can’t help but snort at that answer and decide that fine, you’d play along for now. But you wonder if the curious Bucky you’d seen a few days ago had completely vanished since that dinner.

…

The next morning, Bucky gets cornered by you after breakfast. He looks down his nose at your defiant face.

“You didn’t tell anyone about last night?” you ask him and he raises his brows, unimpressed.

It had surprised you that no one at breakfast mentioned anything or gave you even so much as a dirty look. Clearly, none of them are aware that you tried to make your escape last night. And you cannot for the life of you figure out why Bucky is taking it easy on you. Is he smart enough to assume that your own guilt will do more damage than he ever could? Is this part of some bigger scheme of his? Perhaps he is actually as tired and unbothered as he looked when you saw him in those woods.

“What happened last night?” he asks with a telling smirk. The current look on your face is worth the lack of sleep he had tonight. It’s too easy to rattle you. You roll your eyes and Bucky smirks even wider at that. Is he… flirting?

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” you try again.

Bucky remains quiet and fights to keep a straight face. He did expect your question, but why didn’t he tell anyone? Because he thought you and him would get along after those tiny moments during that first dinner. Because the team would have let you walk away. Because Bucky doesn’t want you to go. Because he thinks he can help. Help the world. Help you. He thinks he can help you. And you can help him. And–

“Want me to tell them now?” he says instead.

He barely notices the flash of panic in your eyes before you cover it with an annoyed scoff and turn on your heel to walk away. He watches you. Every step until you are out of sight.

“You said she trusts you,” Steve’s voice sounds from behind him and Bucky schools his face back to bland interest before he turns to Steve. “That doesn’t look like she trusts you.”

“It’s a work in progress.”

Steve frowns pensively. “Well, speed up the process. We have an important mission and we need her for it.”

“What?” Bucky almost loses his restraint, his body flaring in alarm. “Steve, she hasn’t had any training. She was locked up for months. It’s too big of a risk–”

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate, Buck,” Steve tells him regretfully, but instantly notices that Bucky isn’t buying it. “This is the thing we needed her for.”

“She isn’t some kind of weapon!” Bucky exclaims and he notices Natasha turning away from her conversation in the nearest common room to see what the commotion is about. He gives her a warning look, then lowers his voice. “Steve. This could’ve been me,” Bucky breathes. And there it is. Recognition flickers in Steve’s eyes. “We can’t use her like this. She’s all alone.”

Steve looks past Bucky’s shoulder as if you’re still walking away from him. Angry frown, uptilted chin and swaying hips– Bucky almost looks. Then Steve sighs and looks back at his friend. “Take all the time you need. If she’s ready, I’ll explain the mission to her. I think she might want to help.”

…

Bucky reads over the file until his eyes turn bleary. Steve was right, you will want to help.

He thinks you can handle it, but… what if you encounter a trigger on the way? What if it all becomes too much? Bucky realises he isn’t nearly close enough to care this much, and he doesn’t, but who else but him is going to care whether you live or die? Sometimes Bucky wonders if even you care whether you live or die. What would have happened to Bucky if everyone had given up on him? He knows damn well that he’d be long dead if not so many people found him useful.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Bucky never had a choice. So he finds himself knocking at your door at 10pm with the file in hand.

After opening the door, you barely manage to get a word out before Bucky extends the folder towards you. “Steve needs your help on this. It should be fine, but the choice is up to you.”

Quick. Brief. He’s just the messenger and the decision is all yours. Bucky turns and makes to walk away – before you can spot all of the thoughts crossing his mind – but your voice stops him.

“Will you be there?”

The question takes him by surprise. Turning back towards you and slowly walking to the doorframe you’re standing under, he creases his brows together. “You need me to come along?”

You shrug abashedly. “Will you?”

Bucky studies your face intently. “Yes,” he lies. He’ll figure something out with Steve.

“What if I can’t do what you need me to do?” There it is again. He doesn’t get why this vulnerable side of you keeps surprising him so much.

“You’ll be useful,” are his terrible words of comfort. He wants to palm himself in the face.

The suppressed smile you give him heats his face and he’s sure you’ll call him out on his horrible people skills, but you stay quiet. The silence grows and grows and Bucky starts to shift nonchalantly, wondering if he should walk off and let you read the file in private.

“Okay,” you say softly.

“You’re coming?”

“Yes,” you affirm and look up at him, handing the file back. “Do you not want me to go?”

“It’s your choice,” he tells you and gently takes the folder.

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

Some wall snaps up inside of him at that tone – at that hopeful look in your eyes. “You could use the mission to make your escape,” he says with a shrug and makes to turn away from you again. “I won’t stop you this time.”

He walks away, leaving you to gape at his retreating form.

…

The mission was simple enough.

Sam, Natasha, Bucky and you would be attending a gala. Supposedly, there is a certain divide between the guests in attendance. Your job is mainly to feel out just who will be willing to join your cause. What goes unsaid is that you’re also required to butter them up to spring into action when your team would deem it necessary.

The party is in full swing and everyone is finally losing their mask of formality and enjoying their evening. You just hit the sweet spot of their susceptibility and you sweep into casual conversation about politics. Seeing who keeps quiet, who isn’t scared to speak up, whose faces harden at the prospect of change, etcetera. All of your antennas are on and when you know people have stopped paying attention to you, that’s when you dare a glance across the room where you know Bucky is standing.

All dapper and handsome, wearing a very expensive suit.

All of you have taken thorough action to look exceptional and to blend in perfectly with the high class crowd. Being charming is easy enough, looking it was a necessity – yet, all of it does still feel very far removed from yourself. Like a betrayal to the woman who was locked up mere weeks ago. However, being a true professional, you don’t allow your thoughts to linger too much and channel back to the matter at hand.

Then you feel it.

The searing heat that starts at your legs and spreads all the way up to your chest and cheeks. Like a virus burning over your skin. And you know what it is – know who it is. So you look back in the direction of Bucky, if only to catch him in the act.

But he’s unbothered. Brooding and observing from the bar in the shadow of the room, somehow alone and undiscovered by most of the crowd (a skill you assume he has acquired over the years). And his eyes are still on you. They glide down and back up for even more emphasis and you swallow away the dryness in your throat.

Gliding a sensual hand over the arm of the man next to you, you excuse yourself with a warm smile and slowly stride over to the culprit. Bucky waits patiently, and you swear you see a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as you walk over. He hands you a spare glass of champagne and turns his back to the room when you’re close enough to hear him.

“It’s working,” he says and you swear he sounds slightly impressed.

“Did you assume I’d fuck up?” you taunt and lean over the bar, sipping at the glass flute between your fingers. Bucky turns to you and his eyes sweep over the curve of your partly exposed back, the hollow of your spine and the curve of your ass. Then he holds his breath for a moment.

“Wouldn’t be mad if you did,” he tells you and his tone sounds gentle. You know that’s why he’s here, even though neither of you said it out loud, you know he’s here to stick up for you if you can’t get it done yet. If you’re not ready to be that person again.

Just like he probably knows that you’re here because the guilt of trying to escape from your saviours was eating you alive. And you didn’t want to prove Bucky right by escaping. You had glanced at the exits a few times and debated it, yes, but then looked at your team and thought against it. Looked at Bucky and–

“We’ll leave in five minutes,” Bucky murmurs as he finishes his glass. “I noted down all the people you signed as potential allies and who definitely isn’t.”

“There’s a few we can convince to help,” you cut in.

“What? The woman who runs that capitalist shitshow?” Bucky frowns. “Nah, she’s only motivated by money.”

You smile at him knowingly. “Money is a great motivator and our movement could benefit her greatly, so you just have to nudge her in the right direction.”

Bucky studies your face then and you might have found it less penetrating when he looked at your body with that stare. That intrigue. “And you already have a plan to tip her over to our side,” he concludes.

“You chose me for this for a reason, did you not?” you ask.

His eyes drop to your mouth. “I like a woman who takes her job seriously.”

You have no idea where that came from, but decide to go along with it anyway. You smirk and empty your flute, gently setting it down on the bar after. “Here I was, thinking you didn’t like anyone,” you purr and saunter off to find your other teammates and round up today’s mission.

You turn around when you hear Bucky yelling out your name, but then the room spins and debris flies everywhere. You’d cry out if the wind didn’t whoosh from your body and your ears don’t hollow out. You want to voice your discovery, as futile as it is, but the scream dies in your throat.

Someone just blew up the building.

…

It feels like there’s ash in your mouth. And throat. Your body bleats in pain, but nothing too severely. Maybe you’re in shock. Maybe you can’t feel a limb that’s no longer there. Maybe–

The room is dark except for an orange hue that travels over the ceiling and walls every few seconds. You’re slumped in a velvet chair and your fingers pluck softly at the fabric. One by one, your senses weave together and you hear the soft sounds of someone working on something. Paper ruffling, some gentle work, someone who’s trying to be quiet. You rasp in a raw breath and see a shadow at the bottom of your vision. But your body is relaxed. Or… Well, as relaxed as it can be.

There was an explosion.

“Have some water,” Bucky offers from his kneeling position between your legs and nudges his chin to the glass at the small table next to your chair. His voice is soft, raw. And when you squint at him while you blindly reach for the glass, you see soot on his face, dust on his suit.

“Are you alright?” you ask and your voice reminds you to take the drink. The water feels like heaven in your throat and you nearly gulp down the whole glass.

Bucky pauses at your question and surely he didn’t expect that to be your first question. “I’m fine,” he grumbles and focuses on the task at hand. Which, you quickly realise, is cleaning up the wound on your thigh.

Next to him, there’s a small container with small shards of glass in there and a used pair of tweezers. You feel the prickle of the wound at your thigh and observe closely as he presses some gauze to the puncture wounds. His hands are firm and steady as he wraps a bandage around your thigh to secure the gauze. His calluses scrape against your soft skin and you almost swear he takes more time than he should securing the bandage.

You heave a deep sigh and straighten up in the chair. “Natasha and Sam?”

“Natasha was sent to hunt down the ones responsible and needed an aerial patrol, so she took Sam.” Bucky clenches his jaw and you have a feeling it took some convincing to get Bucky to not go after the bastards himself, to let Natasha handle it instead. “There were deaths, lots of wounded.”

You flinch at that.

Bucky notices it. The glaze over your eyes and the tightening of your fingers into the soft fabric of the chair. He barely allows himself to hesitate and he cover your left hand with his right one, taking your fingers and stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “We got out as many as we could, no one saw the explosion coming,” he explains and hopes the information brings you some peace. He’s desperate to take that haunted look off your face, but doesn’t know how.

He gives you time then. Allows you to sort through your memories and shush them. He strokes his thumb gently and squeezes your fingers every once in a while to anchor you to here, to being safe. Your breaths go from shallow to deep as they slow. He hears your heartbeat steady and watches clarity fill your eyes again.

Fuck him. Those eyes.

“Tomorrow, we go over your list and see what we can do. Let’s get some rest for now.” He pushes to a stand and moves to remove his hand from yours, but you hold onto him.

“I’m sorry for trying to escape,” you rasp and Bucky tenses at that. He did not expect that confession. Didn’t expect an apology either – he didn’t think one was warranted.

You slowly push to a stand and Bucky’s heartbeat spikes as you wobble on your legs before you steady yourself. His eyes search your face frantically and he tries not to linger at your lips for too long. You gently stroke a hand down his arm before brushing past him in thanks, and Bucky has to take a deep breath. A flash of you doing the same thing to one of tonight’s guests comes to him and jealousy hits him, a little too viciously. Just like it did when he saw it earlier tonight.

He turns around and watches as you walk up the small bag he packed for an instance like this. You pull out some clothes and Bucky shamelessly stares while you do it. He almost sighs as the sight of that orange hue travelling over your form, most of the sleek dress still intact and definitely still doing its job of making you look good enough to eat.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” he blurts. But he stands still as he watches you freeze. You slowly turn to him and tilt your head at him curiously.

Then, a slow smirk spreads over your face and your brows raise playfully. Bucky frowns as he tries to read the expression on your face, even if the lightness of it makes him want to drop to his knees in relief. This is much, much better than that haunted look that was there mere minutes ago.

Until one of your hands lifts from the bag, a small scrap of lace dangling from your fingers. “I am never letting you pack our getaway bag again.”

Bucky matches your smirk and strides over to you, close enough that you have to tip your chin up to remain eye contact. “You can choose not to wear it,” he shrugs and the nonchalant gesture makes your legs weak. Slowly, he starts unbuttoning his own pants and shirt, stripping himself of his clothes and tempting you to break that eye contact. “But we’re sharing a bed, so you decide what is less tempting for me to look at.”

It takes everything inside of you not to balk at this… flirtation. But it’s nice – so fucking nice to deflate that balloon of tension after a mission like the one you had tonight. To have banter and humour and perhaps a little friendship.

“I better not catch you looking at all,” you snipe, but have a hard time keeping the smile off your face.

Bucky smiles too then and gives you a wink powerful enough to set your clothes aflame. “Too bad. You can’t ask that of me and look like that.”

That does render you a bit speechless and Bucky takes his win as he strips himself to his boxers. Climbing under the sheets, Bucky’s powerful body shifts and ripples with movement.

This is going to be a long night.

#ok this is NOT worth the wait #but its here which is a HUGE win for me #i hope you like it #not me being way too impatient to write a slow burn #the upcoming smut better be good too #pls tell me what u think i have obviouslty not forgotten about you guys #<3 #rebellion series #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #writing #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #oneshot #series

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valsdelulucorner · 2 days

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Mammon head cannons <3

We all know mammon is tsundere, loving to bottle up his emotions towards his loved ones and put on a act. However whenever you two are alone, his tough guy persona melts away completely and turns into your shy demon boyfriend. He both hates and loves that you have that power over him

He loves to collect little trinkets. Hey, no he didn't steal them!..... most of them. I like to think that he has some really sharp eyes so even if something is really well hidden, he spots it a nicks it. He loves showing off his collection to you, talking a million miles a hour as he holds onto your sleeve and boasts about his new tiny thing

If you were to come down to devildom as a welder or a Jewler, oh lord he will try to marry you on the spot. He absolutely loves to watch you work on your creations, even subjecting little ideas he comes up with for you to make. Sure, at the start he tries to steal your creations to sell them but once he gets closer to you, he absolutely loves bringing you his little trinkets to wield into rings and bracelets

Absolutely loves making nests with his pillows and blankets, spreading his body out on top of his nest in his full demon form. He will act all shy if you find him like this on his nest but when he realizes your not making fun of him, buddy, you are in for a long night of cuddles and deep conversation.

Ok hear me out, when mammon cuddles you, he lets out soft snores that sound like a mix between a purr and the sound a crow makes when its happy. He will hide his face in your neck while cuddling as his arms wrap protectively around your waist, subconsciously purring his little heart out in his sleep as his wings cover you in a protective hold

After having you literally die in his arms that one time, he realized how easily it was for you to slip from his fingers so this man does HEAVY research on humans. What humans cant eat, what irritates their skin, what's best for their health, what food will make them live longer, what temperatures they can withstand, the whole 9 yard. He will always give you a bottle of water at morning, noon, and night and will refuse to go anywhere unless you drink some. If he finds out you haven't been drinking through the day, he will genuinely get scared you will die and beg you to drink. He might have missed a few things but he loves you dearly

He gets bad nightmares about loosing you and those dear to him, they started happening more often after he held your dead body in his arms. He would usualy wake up in a cold sweat and go find lucifer, making sure to poke his head into his little brothers rooms to make sure they are ok before going to find comfort in Lucifer. But with you? He would cling to you and thank anyone who would listen that you were still alive, still next to him. He would hide his face in your neck and quietly cry himself back to sleep, being woken up to immediate comfort from you

He mindlessly doodles when he is bored or if he is focused on something else, like you for example. He likes to admire you during class so sometimes when he's supposed to be taking notes, he will start to subconsciously doodle you in his notebook. He will turn bright red if anyone points this out and he will throw his notebook into the wall, just like that video of the guy throwing his laptop into the wall. Poor guy wont get a break

My man will 100% steal you away from his brothers and just go for a walk with you, it doesn't need to lead to anywhere, he just likes talking and being with you

He calls you his little treasure, his jewel, his first, and most likely a nickname of your actual name. They roll off his tounge so easily, he will accidentally call you these Infront of people. "Stay away from my treasure!" ..... "your what?" " D...DONT AVOID THE QUESTION!"

"I wouldn't trade you for all the grim in the world treasure, you mean more to me then money"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I absolutely love Mammon, he is my favorite character but i dont think this was written to the best of my ability. I might come back to this in the future but until then<3

Who should i do next?

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lieslab · 1 day

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Teacher's pet

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: Chan finds you late at night struggling with the realization that your high school teacher groomed you.

Genre: Angst with comfort/hurt

Word Count: 3.9K

Trigger warning: Grooming, pedophilia, abuse of power via manipulation, mentions of sex, rape, and sexual assault.

A/N: To the requester for this one, I tried my best while writing this. I did quite a bit of research with this topic. This is incredibly heavy stuff. I'm sorry that this happened to you and to the rest of you, if you've ever gone through something similar, I'm so sorry. Grooming is horrible and I wish it was one of the many things that didn't exist in the world. I hope this can provide, even if it's just a sliver, some sort of comfort <3

_ _ _

When Chan came home from work, you were missing. The two of you had shared an apartment for quite a while. You both went half and half for everything. Living with a roommate made everything cheaper.

“Where are you?” Chan called out. He let his knuckles fall against your bedroom door, but there wasn’t a response. Holding his breath, he turned the knob and pushed the door open to reveal nothing.

Your bed was messy and unmade. Your favorite color of bedding was twisted and one of your pillows was nearly tipping onto the floor. A half-smile came over Chan’s face as he picked it up and placed it back in its proper spot.

It seemed like you were missing, until he realized your bedroom window was unlocked. So you must have climbed out onto the roof. This late at night, it was a treacherous and dangerous task, but you still managed.

You managed to find the footholes in the darkness. In your worn sneakers, you scaled up the two story building and sat up on the fired clay. It wasn’t the best idea, but the roof was where you could breathe.

You and Chan came out here at night all the time. When life became too heavy and you needed fresh air, this was where you went. He came out here to come up with new lyrics and song ideas.

It wasn’t often that the two of you crossed paths on the roof. When you did, the two of you sat in your respective spots. Chan sat on the left and you sat on the right. Your legs dangled over the edge and the moon hung high up in the sky.

Dotted with freckled constellations and the occasional shooting star, you were at ease up here. The air smelled faintly sweet and floral from the cherry blossom trees. In your opinion, they smelled better up here.

The busy traffic of Seoul slowed to a crawl late at night. Most of the time, there’d barely be anyone out here. When they drove by, the faint hum of the accelerator and the occasional huff of gasoline or diesel drifted by.

This time of night, it was wondrous. The grass was starting to grow again and this was the first time you had been up here since winter. The iciness and chill made the roof tiles too slick to climb.

On the roof, you let your legs dangle down and your ankles hung off the edge. Chan pried his fingers beneath your window panel and pushed it up. He stuck his head out and reached up.

You stayed still at the sound of stirring from below. Chan climbed up the side of the building and onto his side of the roof. With a groan, he dropped his body onto the cracking tile.

Your eyes briefly darted towards him before they went back and refound the distance across the way. He must have just got back from the studio. He was still in a pair of black basketball shorts and a matching zip-up hoodie.

His calves were illuminated by the white moonlight. He rubbed them a few moments and curled his legs up while mimicking your own posture.

Your legs were tucked to your chest and your arms wrapped around them. The natural line of your mouth drooped down a little more tonight. There was a glassiness to your eyes, as if you were holding back tears.

When Chan realized it, he frowned, but he didn’t want to pry. “Rough night?” He offered weakly.

All you could do was nod without a word. Sometimes reality was like a shard of glass. Swallowing it left your throat hoarse and mangled. It shredded the slippery sides of your esophagus and tore all the way down. The ache and burn left behind was embedded in your brain and it’d always linger like a shadow.

“Wanna talk about it?” Chan offered.

You shook your head and kept your gaze to the distance. If you looked at him, you’d break down and you didn’t want to do that. You wanted to forget about this dark period in your life. You wanted to toss out the memories and let them drift away in the wind; never able to hurt you ever again, but memories are not like dust, they’re much more like syrup.

You can scrub and scrape, but there will always be sticky parts left behind and between the intricate folds of your brain. You can dig and claw, but some memories will be there until the end of time; small annoying bits that are just out of reach.

“Hmm, okay.” Chan slung a hand over his opposite wrist. The two of you sat for a few moments until a dimpled grin stretched across his face. “What if I offered you your favorite popsicle?”

You glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. He let out a small giggle and reached into the pocket of his hoodie. When he pulled it out, he was gripping the familiar packaging of your favorite popsicle flavor.

That must have been the reason why he came up here to begin with. Sometimes the two of you would get things for one another. He must have been unable to wait for you to come down, so he went up.

“Thank you,” you managed to mumble as you gently pulled it from his hand.

“You can thank me by telling me what’s got you so glum.” He pulled out another popsicle from his other pocket and began to unpeel it. “You know me, I won’t judge you.” He flashed you a reassuring smile before he tore open the wrapper.

“I know.”

“Then what is it?” He couldn’t help himself. He was so curious and he was dying to know. It was an itch that couldn't be scratched enough. “What’s on your mind? Hmm?” He shifted closer to you and took a bite of his frozen treat.

Your lips pressed together and you debated on telling him. The topic was one you had never told him about and it would be a tough conversation for the two of you to have. You sucked in a deep breath before you released it.

“It’s um…it’s quite a conversation. It’s a lot and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Chan laughed, “how bad could it really be?”

“I loved him,” you mumbled. Your eyes stayed on your treat while you slowly began to unwrap it.

“Who?”

“My teacher.”

It was slightly melted from where it pressed against the warmth of Chan’s skin. You remembered how warm skin could be. After all, you felt the contact of another human far more than you wanted to when you were younger.

Chan snorted and rolled his eyes. “I loved some of my teachers too. My favorite one was my second grade teacher. What’s the big deal?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I loved him.”

“Like…crushing?”

You sucked in a deep breath and shut your eyes. “It was more than that. It was so much more and there’s a whole story involved. It’s a messy situation that still has me pretty screwed up. I wish he didn’t control me anymore, but…”

You bit your lip trying not to cry. Ever since you found out that the high school teacher, who had groomed you, had gotten married, it was killing you. That was supposed to be you. You were supposed to be the one who married him. He talked about it all the time.

Chan pulled his half-consumed popsicle away from his mouth. With furrowed eyebrows, he took in the distress on your face. His lips puckered together before he went on. “Did something happen?”

“I fell in love with him.”

“Your teacher?”

“And you know what the worst part is?” Glossy tears began to fill your eyes. “I really believed he loved me back.”

Chan stayed silent and attempted to put all the pieces together. The things you were saying weren’t adding up. There was no way you had a thing with your teacher as a kid. No fucking way. He would have known and you would have told him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to speak. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about.”

“It started at the beginning of high school. I had the most amazing math teacher. He was young and he was charming. He couldn’t have been much older than his late twenties. He looked like he walked straight out of Hollywood.”

“The very first assignment he assigned was a get to know me project. He knew I lived with my mom because I mentioned that my dad had been killed in a car accident. I was a kid and that grief was still so new. I was grieving and so was my mom.”

Chan nodded and let you continue.

“And then not too long after that, he’d start asking me to stay after class, so he could help me with a few lessons. It was fine in the beginning, I was just a student who needed some extra help, but it escalated.”

The popsicle was beginning to melt down your hand, but you didn’t care. It oozed across your thumb and caressed your wrist. If you paid too close attention, you could still feel his warm callouses brush against your soft skin.

“And that’s when the touching began.”

“The touching?”

“It was innocent, I swear. He’d come up behind me and began to rub my shoulders while I worked on problems. He’d bend down and whisper his advice into my ear.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. Involuntarily, your body was reliving everything. Goosebumps slipped down your arms and a chill swept across your spine.

“Despite how weird it was, I didn’t mind it. Things continued and he made me feel wanted. Over time, he started to get permission from my mom to bring me home. He used to ask about my dad. Apparently, he lost his own dad when he was a kid, so he knew how it felt.”

Chan felt nothing, but disgust. He wanted to plug his ears and he wanted you to stop. How old were you during that time? Thirteen? Maybe fourteen at the latest? You were just a kid.

“I missed my dad so much and he was so kind. I loved the extra attention. During class, he’d brush an arm against me and mutter an apology. He’d let his hand drag across my desk a little longer than normal as he collected my paper with a smile.”

“I-I don’t know. I just really liked how he made me feel and I know-” Your voice cut off. The lump in your throat sat there like a boulder. “I know it wasn’t right, but at the time, I adored everything about it.”

You wiped an arm across your eyes and kept your fingers wrapped around the popsicle stick with the other hand. Your fingers had gone white around the wooden stick. Reliving all of it was like a knife in the chest.

“There was one day where I was in his car. He started to attend all my sporting events to cheer me on. My mom was sick, so she asked if he could drive me there. I-I know how awful it is, but he asked me if I ever had intercourse.”

Chan’s voice stuck in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He wished he could wake up from this nightmare. How could he not know about this? How long had you been burying this pain inside?

“And then when I said no-”

His heart dropped.

“He said he could show me, so I knew what to do.”

And then it shattered. His own tears began to creep up in his eyes. You were just a kid, at that age, you were practically a goddamn baby. How dare someone in such a privileged position hurt you like that.

He was a teacher and you were his student. There was a position of power over you. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, and it was morally fucked.

He wanted to throw up. The sweet burst of cold popsicle faded from his tongue. Now the artificial sweetness wanted to make him vomit. He wanted to bend over and throw up.

After a few moments, despite it all, he finally got out the words he was afraid to ask. “Did he…you know?”

When you didn’t respond, he already knew. It crushed his heart. His lungs were on fire and they had burst. An indescribable bright blue rage had ignited. It burned hot enough that it could melt towns and murder platoons of fully armed men.

“Your teacher raped you,” he whispered.

“It wasn’t like that, I said yes and I-”

“You were a child!” His voice flew out stern. “You were a child and he was a teacher! He should have never put his filthy hands on you! That goddamn bastard, I’ll fucking kill him!” The tears in your eyes slid down your cheeks faster. “How long did this go on for?”

“Years,” you weakly got out. “It stopped a few months after I graduated. He said that he needed space. He said it wasn’t working out. He said I-I wasn’t good enough anymore. He said so many things.”

Chan silently did math in his head. He remembered that when he met you, you had graduated nearly a year prior. The two of you were around the same age at the time, but that was years ago. It must have been shortly after the fact.

“And where is he now?”

“Still teaching.”

“I- Huh? What?”

“He’s still at the same school and teaching the same grade. He just recently got married to a girl that graduated a few months ago.”

Chan closed his eyes and tried to focus on calming his raging blood pressure. It wouldn’t help either of you, but he was furious. He probably did the same thing to that girl that he did to you. He probably groomed her too and it made him want to scream and throw something. He wasn’t okay with people taking advantage of others and, specifically, more younger people.

You sniffled and stared out at the distant neon lights. A silence grew between the two of you and you knew you hurt Chan’s feelings. You didn’t mean to, but you needed to get it all out.

“How do you feel about it now?”

You paused for a moment thinking about his words. “I feel so ugly. I feel like I was used and then tossed to the side. I know it sounds bad, but I wish I still had his validation. I still crave it even though it’s been years.”

“I’m really sorry you went through that. It’s a tough situation and you were a kid. You don’t have to beat yourself up over it. You didn’t know and I-”

“But I did know. I knew what was going on and I wanted it to happen. I liked him and it made me feel good. It made me feel loved, so he didn’t groom me and it’s my fau-”

“Don’t make excuses for him!” Chan’s voice went shrill. “He was a grown man and you were a child! You were a baby! You were just growing into becoming your own person and starting high school!”

“Don’t you dare give him another excuse. He knew what he was doing and he knew it was wrong. He should have had the intelligence to stay away from you and never pursue you like that. He’s sick!”

“Y-You don’t get it.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t get it. You’re letting this man get away with this disgusting behavior. What about that girl, huh? What about that girl he married? If another teacher was sleeping with a fourteen year old, would that be okay?”

“No! No! Of course not, but things were dif-”

“You were groomed,” Chan cut you off. Tears streamed down his face. The popsicle was long gone from his hand. Instead, it melted into a puddle on the warm roof tile. “You are a victim in this whole scenario.”

“But I-”

“You are. You are a victim and I will not stop saying it because it’s clear you’ve been brainwashed. You were a child and you didn’t know any better. You were put in an adult scenario when you were a child. You were taken advantage of by a pedophile. Do you hear me?”

Angry tears of frustration poured down his cheeks. He hated that you were blaming yourself for this situation. He hated that you couldn’t see the situation like he could. The grooming had worked on you. So blinded, the truth was skewered in your eyes.

“I will never shut up about it. You were sexually assaulted and raped by a pedophile. You were a child and I don’t care how nice he was. I don’t care if he bribed you with compliments and the affection your life lacked.”

“If you had a fourteen year old kid now, what would you think? If this same thing happened to them? If they came home and announced they had sex with their high school teac-”

“Stop!” You cried as you squeezed your eyes shut. “That’s different! It’s entirely different! Stop it! Stop it!”

“Then tell me what the difference is.”

“The difference was that it was me! I was mature for my age and I-” Your eyes reopened to look at Chan.

The way he was looking at you now, it was killing you. The glassy eyes and the furrowed eyebrows. There was anger looming in that russet brown. The moonlight reflected off them and bounced it back towards you.

You couldn’t help it as your exterior began to crack. Like an egg, pieces of shell were ripped away. Your bottom lip trembled and you struggled to get out the next few words.

“T-The difference is that I just wanted to be loved by a father figure. I-I missed my dad so much and I-” You didn’t get a chance to finish because you burst into sobs.

It was overwhelming as you cried. The stickiness still stuck to your hand. The liquified popsicle drizzled down the clay tiles and dripped off the roof. This hurt buried inside was killing you. You remembered all of it.

You remembered how uncomfortable you were when his chapped lips met yours. You remembered the way his fingers tightened against your hips. Puberty was still relatively new to you and you were trying to grow more into your developing body.

Your limbs were a little longer. There was more weight in places there hadn’t been before. It was only the start of freshman year. You were new to high school and things were much different.

You remembered how much it hurt the first time. How you were left to fend for yourself in a puddle of your own warm blood. A little fearful, you remembered the growing disgust you felt deep inside yourself, but you thought it was normal.

You couldn’t get your innocence back. Society was cruel when it came to such a thing. You weren’t pure anymore, you were infected and diseased. You were as filthy as the rest of them. A fallen angel who had lost their wings.

If your mother ever would have known, she would have lost it. You always grew up being told sexual intimacy was something that happened a lot later in life, but you were so mature for your age. At least, that’s what your teacher said.

He liked the way your body looked. You were young, you were fresh, you were nothing, but a docile little lamb. With your sparkling doe-eyes, you were nothing, but a toy for him.

Your skin was unmarked by anyone before him. You were so young and naive. You were malleable and pliable; perfect for a hungry wolf like himself. The young lambs always have the cleanest and purest blood; they always taste the sweetest.

You wanted love, he wanted pleasure. You wanted affection, he craved attention. You wanted a father, he wanted your freshly ripened body; straight from the vine, you were plucked for him and him alone.

What a perfect and sweet peach that you were. So ripe, so delectable, not a bruise detected on your delicate flesh. And your juice, how irresistible you were.

Plucked from the vine, yanked from the others, and taken a bite out of. When you were old enough, you were tossed to the ground. It was there where you rotted with the other withering peaches.

You fermented a soft sweetness for the flies until you withered brown and green. You withered away in the scorching sun. Your once soft skin writhed and squirmed until you decomposed into the dirt to be walked over again and again and again.

You had never felt quite right since then. You searched for love in the wrong places. You fell to your knees and begged for an ounce of love. Nobody could fill you and supply you with enough love as your teacher had.

He told you just enough to keep you happy. After a while of teaching a dog a new trick, you don’t have to teach them anymore. You grew to learn what he liked and disliked. It was a toxic tornado filled with an improper power dynamic.

He didn’t care about the sticky hands and half-melted popsicles anymore. Chan gently grabbed your forearm and pulled your body towards him. Your shoes scraped along the cracked tile.

Beneath the moonlight, you fell apart as Chan’s hands wrapped around you. Unlike your teacher, his hands didn’t roam your body. They didn’t search for sexual pleasure. He didn’t use your body for his advantage. His arms wrapped around your back and they stayed there.

He soothed you softly and rocked you back and forth trying to comfort you. He had no doubt that you were exhausted. This was a lot to share with anyone and that included him. He continued to rock you and placed his chin on the top of your head.

He’d sway all night if he had to. He’d sing you a soft lullaby and lure you to sleep. He’d keep away anyone who dared to lay a rotten finger on you.

In a few hours, the moon would be replaced with sunlight. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. Your sobs began to turn into quick hiccups. He kept his arms around you and quietly cooed.

He needed to find you someone to talk to. Your perception of everything was still warped. The past still had its claws on you. You were still under the illusion your teacher had created. You were a victim, but he was determined to help you become a survivor.

You were so strong. You had hid this from him for years. As your hiccups began to fade away, he gently placed his lips on the top of your head in an attempt to comfort you.

No matter what happened tomorrow, he’d remind you how much he loved you over and over again. He’d continue to show you what real love was. Again and again, he’d show you until one day, you realized what healthy love truly looked like.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

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minghaoslatina · 1 day

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THE CLAW MACHINE FULL OF SANRIO PLUSHIES

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

pairing: seonghwa x f!reader

warnings: little bit of angst, jealousy, mentions of food

word count: 1.7k

now playing 🎧 love by wave to earth

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

As you walk through the busy carnival with Seonghwa and the rest of ATEEZ, you can't help but feel excited. The bright, colorful lights, sounds of laughter, and the sweet smells of funnel cake, chocolate-covered fruits, and cotton candy fill the air, making it a perfect day for new memories. Seonghwa holds your hand tightly, a smile on his face as he guides you through the crowds. He had been looking forward to this for weeks, knowing that with their busy schedule, it's not always easy to find time for romantic dates like this one. But today, the stars aligned, and here you are, surrounded by the fun and magic of the carnival. Although you don't like being in crowded places, Seonghwa made a promise to be by your side at all times.

Originally, Seonghwa had planned it to be just the two of you, but the others overheard the plan while Seonghwa was making dinner for you one night. Now, even though it's a group outing, Seonghwa makes sure that you feel special and loved, stealing glances at you and squeezing your hand every chance he gets. Moments like these make you grateful for the love and happiness these boys bring into your life.

As you and the boys gather around the amusement park's most popular ride, Wooyoung suddenly screams, "I want to go on that first!" He eagerly grabs Hongjoong's hand and pulls him towards the ride, with the rest of the boys following suit. However, Seonghwa notices that you remain rooted to the spot, with a look of apprehension on your face as you gaze up at the towering ride.

Seonghwa gently releases your hand and steps closer to you, noticing your unease. "Should we go on a different ride?" he asks, his voice soft and reassuring.

"It's alright," Seonghwa says, giving you a reassuring smile. "I promised to stay by your side, and I always keep my promises."

You feel a sense of relief wash over you, and you are grateful for Seonghwa's kind words. His eyes sparkle like the stars above as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest.

"Seonghwa, please come with me," Yeosang pleads, interrupting your thoughts. "San is too scared to ride with me, and we need an even number."

"I can't, I have to stay with y/n," Seonghwa replies, casting a reassuring glance in your direction.

"Hey, it's okay, Hwa," you said with a smile, comforted by his presence. "San and I will find another ride to go on. Thank you for wanting to stay with me."

Seonghwa looks into your eyes for reassurance, "Are you sure?" he asks. You nod and give him a smile.

"I won't leave her alone," San says, coming up next to you. "We'll go on the bumper cars and wait for you guys here," you nod along with him. Seonghwa feels a bit conflicted about leaving you with San, even though he is one of his closest friends. It's not that Seonghwa doesn't trust San, but he feels protective of you as any good boyfriend should. After some thought, Seonghwa decides to trust San.

"Thanks, San. I'll be back soon, baby," Seonghwa says. He looks from San to you and kisses your cheek before letting Yeosang drag him away from you.

You wave them goodbye and turn towards San, who is already giving you a dimpled smile. "Bumper cars?" you suggest excitedly. You and San both laugh and wait in line for your turn.

After a long thirty minutes, Seonghwa and the others come back from their ride and start searching for you and San. Seonghwa tries calling you, but you don't answer. He begins to feel a sense of panic rise within him, but he soon spots your adorable braids and everyday purse with San in the distance. His smile faded as he watched San expertly maneuver the claw machine to win you a Cinnamoroll Sanrio plushie. Your favorite Sanrio. Seonghwa felt a pang of jealousy rise within him. He wants to be the one winning you plushies and impressing you with his skills. He watches as you hug San with gratitude and thank him for the sweet gesture.

Before San could also wrap his arms around you, Seonghwa quickly comes over and gently touches your shoulder. You turn around, and your eyes light up when you realize it's your Seonghwa.

"Hwa, look what Sannie won for me! I gave up after three tries, but he did it in just one! Isn't it so cute?" you bring the plushie up to his face, and your giggles make Seonghwa's knees feel weak. He feels guilty for feeling jealous when he knows you would never do anything to upset him, but he can't help feeling like the plushie is mocking him. It's as if it's saying, You didn't win me. You didn't win me. Despite the childish urge to punch the plushie from your hands, Seonghwa resists and forces a smile.

"It is cute; it even matches your pretty nails," Seonghwa compliments, taking your hand and admiring the glitter to hide his feelings.

You gasp, "You're so right. Now I need to take a picture." You happily take out your phone and snap a picture of yourself holding Cinnamoroll.

Seonghwa lets out an exasperated sigh, trying to contain his frustration. "San, I think it's better if you head back to the others now. y/n and I are going somewhere else," he says, struggling to keep his tone even.

You and San exchange confused glances as you try to make sense of Seonghwa's sudden irritation. San, feeling uneasy, asks Seonghwa if everything is alright, sensing that Seonghwa's annoyance is directed at him. San is at a loss, not knowing what he may have done to upset Seonghwa.

"Yeah, I just want to spend time with my girlfriend," Seonghwa says, taking your hand and walking away.

You quickly turn your head over your shoulder. "We'll be back, San. Have fun with the others." You smile at him and turn towards Seonghwa again. You can tell that something is wrong with him by the annoyed look on his face and the way his grip tightens around your hand.

Concerned, you stop in front of a churro stand and a Ferris wheel and ask him if he's okay. You take both of his warm hands in yours and stand in front of him to get his attention. Seonghwa lets out a deep sigh as soon as he sees your worried gaze. It's not your fault he can't control his dumb jealousy. You can tell he's not okay, but you're unsure what's bothering him.

"I'm fine," Seonghwa tries to reassure you, but you know when Seonghwa is not being truthful.

"What's wrong?" you gently ask him again. Seonghwa sighs and reaches for the plushie that is sitting under your arm.

"This is my problem," Seonghwa faces the Sanrio plushie towards you with a very (adorable) annoyed expression. It only took you a few seconds to piece everything together. You then wrap your arms around Seonghwa's waist and let out muffled laughs.

"Why are you laughing?" Seonghwa tries to hide his smile as he attempts to make you look at him again.

You find yourself gazing up at Seonghwa, your eyes meeting his from his chest. A playful smile curves at the corner of your lips as you tease him, "You're cute when you're jealous."

Seonghwa looks away in guilt and quickly apologizes, "I'm sorry, beautiful. I guess I felt jealous seeing you spend time with San even though I'm the one who left. Both of you would never do anything to hurt me. I know that, but I was being stupid."

You smile and try to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach from how much your boyfriend cares, "It's okay, Hwa. I forgive you. But you should apologize to Sannie, too. Poor boy just did not want to go on that horrifying ride."

You both laugh and go back to holding hands.

"It's adorable when they think no one is looking," Jongho remarks with a mouthful of popcorn as he and the boys share various carnival foods.

"It's us against the world," Mingi mocks Seonghwa, and the boys laugh loudly, feeling happy and content to be together, watching as you and Seonghwa go around playing different games together.

As the night wore on, Seonghwa's luck at the carnival games became increasingly impressive. With each toss and throw, he racked up a collection of ten more plushies for you to take home. Of all the fluffy toys he won, your favorite one is definitely the Toothless Dragon from the movie "How to Train Your Dragon." Its resemblance to your adorable boyfriend is uncanny, down to the little details of its big eyes and endearing smile. In appreciation for his efforts, you rewarded Seonghwa with multiple pecks on his lips, feeling grateful for his company. He even bought you many churros to snack on, knowing how much you adore them.

Seonghwa's attention is caught by the growing crowd of people in one area and the faint sound of explosions in the distance. "I think the fireworks are going to start soon," he remarks. You nod your head, and both of you follow the crowd with plushies in your hands. You quickly spot the towering figures of Yunho and Mingi in the crowd and head towards them. The excitement in the air is palpable as everyone waits for the magical display of lights and colors to begin.

As you approach the group, Hongjoong is the first to notice you. "There's our lovely couple," he exclaims, causing the rest of the boys to turn their heads and greet you with warm smiles.

San playfully pokes Seonghwa's cheek and asks, "You feeling better, pouty boy?" Seonghwa grins and apologizes for his earlier moodiness. San is quick to reassure him, shaking his head and telling him that it's okay.

"Can I have one?" Wooyoung asks, looking at all your plushies. You open your mouth, about to say yes, but Seonghwa blocks your view with one arm. "No, I won them for her," Seonghwa says. Wooyoung pouts and mutters a playful "meanie" before stepping closer to you to watch the fireworks. You can't help but smile at the playful banter between the two while secretly cherishing the plushies Seonghwa won for yourself.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

a/n 💌

I was so nervous to write this…but ateez at the carnival sounds so chaotic and fun 😭🫶🏼

#seonghwa x reader #seonghwa #seonghwa ateez #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez oneshot #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa x you

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rebelliousstories · 1 day

Text

Kiss Me You Animal Masterlist

There was something different about this girl from the surface. Zylia Shelley was unlike anything anyone had ever met. Pink eyes, skin and hair devoid of color, and a peculiar appetite. She caught the attention of a certain Ghoul, and not in the way either one would like.

Cooper Howard did not want to care for anyone after losing his family. He has spent two hundred years alone, and he will spend the next two hundreds alone too. So when he gets this weird girl dumped on him, he is not a bit happy about it.

The two outcasts strike up an unusual partnership that slowly morphs into some form of caring for the other person. No, they will not say they are in love.

Ongoing~ Updated on Fridays (Last Update: Friday April 26th, 2024)

Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Zylia “The Freak” Shelley

Chapter One: Ten Thousand Candles

Cooper is not too sure if he is impressed or fed up with this new girl. Probably both.

Chapter Two: My Thriller Scandal (May 3rd, 2024)

He has decided that he is equally impressed and pissed at Zylia as she proves to be a formidable opponent.

Chapter Three: Take A Bite (May 10th, 2024)

When it comes to his cold, undead, somehow beating heart, Cooper goes back and forth on whether or not to use it on Zylia.

Chapter Four: Home Is Your Teeth Sink (May 17th, 2024)

After two hundred years, Cooper thought he had seen it all. But he has no clue what fresh hell Zylia is up to.

Chapter Five: Take You In Real Slow (May 24th, 2024)

Finding an unlikely companion, Cooper can not help but to be amazed by the woman before him.

Chapter Six: Connect With The Sound (May 31st, 2024)

More tales and old wounds are brought to light around a campfire, and there is something interesting enough for Zylia to want to stick around with him.

Chapter Seven: Connect With My Body (June 7th, 2024)

Raiders, fiends, other ghouls, other humans; there is no shortage of people who would look to do harm to someone as rare as Zylia or as common and grotesque as Cooper. Does not mean that either one should be used to this sort of treatment.

Chapter Eight: My Tongue and Smoke (June 14th, 2024)

A budding partnership is born, and the two mutants realize the same thing at the same time; they are not as alone as they thought.

Chapter Nine: Something Darker On Your Mind (June 21st, 2024)

Cooper would argue that he does not have a soft side anymore. And even if you see him helping Zylia in a time of need, no you did not.

Chapter Ten: Teeth Are Where Your Heart Was (June 28th, 2024)

There is something so intimate about sitting on the same abandoned couch in the middle of the desert with a fire blazing ahead.

Chapter Eleven: Don’t Ever Let Me Go (July 5th, 2024)

Zylia has an epiphany. Cooper has a realization. Neither one of them get that the other person is going through the same thing.

Chapter Twelve: Tear Right Through Me (July 12th, 2024)

How far are you willing to go for someone that you care for?

Chapter Thirteen: Welcome You To Try (July 19th, 2024)

Such tender moments are not common in the Wastelands. You have to hold them tight and not let go when you do have them.

Chapter Fourteen: Kiss Me, Kiss Me (July 26th, 2024)

Time to put those old cowboy skills to work.

Chapter Fifteen: I Wanna See Your Teeth (August 2nd, 2024)

While Cooper is busy finding out how to get her back, Zylia is fighting as much as she can with what little she has left.

Chapter Sixteen: Kiss Me You Animal (August 9th, 2024)

One final showdown. One final goodbye. One final kiss.

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

#rebelliousstories #writing #cooper the ghoul howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard #cooper howard x oc #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #the ghoul x oc #fallout imagine #fallout #Kiss Me You Animal series

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fandomfluffandfuck · 20 hours

Note

It’s been a bit since I wrote about feral!Bucky but I genuinely cannot put into words how much Steve (and me) loves him

Bucky now associates physical touch with pain, with torture. He hides from visitors, scampers away from touch, and never lets anyone get close to him. Nevertheless, Steve wakes up from a nap one day with Bucky curled into his side, and Steve is pretty sure that if he could, Bucky would be purring like a kitten.

“Bucky?” Steve asks tentatively, trying not to spook him. Bucky doesn’t seem to be upset by Steve sudden consciousness, instead just making a small noise and wrapping his arms around Steve’s chest possessively. He mumbles something that sounds like “Stevie”.

“You alright, angel?” Steve asks with a grin, confused but pleased with the change in Bucky’s demeanor. He knew Bucky had always been closer with Steve, trusting him more than others, but this was still new territory. He slides his arms around Bucky, which causes Bucky to make a happy noise that Steve hasn’t heard in years.

————

Also, maybe Bucky’s a bit territorial now that he’s been given more freedom. The poor thing doesn’t know what to do with himself. However, after consulting a bunch of psychiatrists and Dr. Banner, Steve knows what he needs to do. He empties out an old walk in closet, and fits it with as many soft things as he can find. He buys as many plushies as he can afford, and stuffs the closet with them. He remembers how much Bucky hates harsh lights now and decides to buy those pretty string lights that Peter has in his room at the tower. He shows it to Bucky when it’s finished and they’ve both had a good day.

“It’s all your own space, Buck. I’m never going to come in here without your permission. I swear it.” Steve says, holding Bucky’s hand, which lately Bucky won’t let go of.

“It’s… mine?” Bucky says, slowly, tentatively. He’s scared that all of this will be taken away.

“Yeah, Buck. Yours.” Steve says, as comforting and securely as I can, trying to make his confidence transfer to Bucky.

Steve is tackled in a hug, and there are tears wetting his shirt. He hugs Bucky back, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Thank you.” The whisper is so soft, so small, that it’s almost imperceptible. But Steve hears it. He’ll always hear Bucky.

————

Then, of course, there’s the moment when Steve’s telling Bucky about life back in Brooklyn, a topic that Bucky is very interested in. He’s going on about something that they did to piss off Becca (“we were teenagers, Buck. The best entertainment we had was making that poor girl mad.”) when Bucky stops him.

“I remember.”

Steve drops the pencil he’s holding. “You… You do?” There’s so much hope in his voice. There’s unshed tears in Bucky’s eyes, and a small smile on his face.

“Yes. Rebecca. My Becca.” Bucky’s smile gets bigger, as does Steve. Steve rushes to his side, hugging him. Bucky’s crying, and Steve’s not far behind him. Bucky laughs, and it is the best goddamn sound Steve Rogers has ever heard. “She was so mad. I can’t believe we did that.” He giggles, and it makes Steve feel like maybe everything will be okay.

previous feral!Bucky

Me too! I am such a fucking sucker for feral Bucky

I am beside myself thinking about Bucky being so touch adverse only for Steve to wake up and find him tucked into his side 😫 and there's something so special, too, about Bucky having moments in recovery where he's so suddenly more himself. It makes it so much more painful to see the rapid realignment. It's as if he's found two loose ends and knotted them together as quickly as his fingers would allow to ensure that he doesn't misplace them again. Gah! It's so just 🤌🏻ouch🤌🏻

Oh my god!! The territorial thing, yes! I've had this in my notes for actual years, waiting for me to come back to it and do something with it:

Sometimes, during Bucky's recovery, he latches onto things with this ferocity, holding until his fingers hurt, distraught when he accidentally breaks it, if the object of desire is fragile, claiming "mine." He won't let anyone touch it, not unless it's over his dead body. Steve has genuinely never been so distraught and proud of someone for grabbing a mug and declaring it as their own. Bucky deserves to have his own things.

Same wavelength, lmao

That's so fucking sweet, though! I love the idea of Bucky having his own space. (And I love the idea of Peter's room in the tower having fairy lights. Fuck yeah.)

Ah! That last part is the fucking best. Steve will never be as eager to be interrupted as he is when he's in the middle of a story, and Bucky stops him because he remembers. He doesn't need to tell him again, he remembers. Steve could fucking kiss him. Steve will kiss him. Steve will pick him up and spin him around, clutching his waist all the while, a huge grin on his face.

In conclusion:

Thank you so, so much for this!!

#asks #sillysickly #anon provided writing #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #hurt/comfort

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hazbinfallinginaspiral · 2 days

Note

Hey!

Loved First Date (Retro!Reader X Vox)

I was wondering if you planned a follow on from that! I'd love to see more, like Vox introducing them to the other Vees or something!

Thanks for the hard work! Don't rush yourself!

“Don’t worry, you’ll do fine,” Vox said softly, squeezing my hand lightly.

“Are you sure? What if they don’t like me?” I asked, looking up at him. I was worried. These were the people he was closest to- besides me, but I hadn’t known him for long.

“They’ll love you,” he said gently. He leaned over and gave me a quick kiss, then pulled away with a knowing grin. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Before I could protest, he dragged me through the door and into the meeting room. Yes, he had arranged for me to meet his two business partners and best friends in a fancy room with a long table and fifty chairs. I was intimidated. Fuck fuck fuckkkkk.

“I don’t see what all the fuss is about, I can do vintage too you know,” one of them said with a huff, not realizing we’d walked in . Her hair was up in twin tails, she was fashionable, and she was taking a selfie. That one must be Velvette.

“It’s not vintage, it’s retro, and they’re different,” the other person said. He was unbelievably tall, like damn, save some height for the rest of us. He wore a pink top hat with two of his antennas sticking out, one of them damaged. He was bedazzling a pistol. “Honestly if you didn’t know there was a difference, I can see why you’re missing the mark with your fashion line.”

“Hey. Don’t insult my fashion,” Velvette snapped, slamming her phone down. “I could say just as many things about those sloppy new performers you hired.”

Vox cleared his throat, gripping my arm tightly before Valentino could respond. “Excuse me,” Vox said, sounding strained. He didn’t appear to be happy with these first impressions. “We have a guest.”

“What?” Velvette asked, turning her attention to me.

I was hiding partially behind Vox now. Valentino squinted, trying to see me clearly. I sort of poked my head out from behind Vox and looked at the two anxiously.

“Come on now, no seas tímida,” Valentino purred, gently setting down the rhinestones and glue gun. I stepped into view for him so he could see me, still standing close to Vox. “There we go. Come a little closer so I can see you properly, won’t you, mi cariño?”

I looked to Vox, who gave me a small smile and nudged me forward. I was completely out of my element here. “Sorry,” I mumbled, walking over to the table. Vox followed close behind, Velvette already seemed to be judging me. Seemingly by my walk alone.

“There’s no need to apologize,” Val said sweetly, standing up to welcome me. Goddamn this man was an entire ass tree. Fuck. And he was wearing heels??? He needed to be stopped. Why was he so fucking tall. I was like, half his fucking height. Fuck fuck fuck. “The names Valentino, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He wrapped one of his four arms around my waist and started to make me walk around the room with him. He didn’t seem to have a good attention span, in fact, he was almost.. restless.

“Uh hi,” I said quietly, fidgeting nervously with the hem of my sleeve. “People down here just call me Retro.”

“Retro, hmm?” He stopped for a moment and bent down, inspecting me. I decided I did not like him, if not for his height alone, but for the way he was looking at me. Almost as if I was fresh meat. “That’s a bit on the nose, isn’t it? What was your name when you were living? Could you-” Vox cut him off, clearing his throat pointedly as if to say ‘cut it out’. Val stopped and looked at him for a moment, then pouted. “Fine. Say, Voxy, could you get me a light? Today’s been a shitshow.”

“A light as in a lamp or…?” Vox asked, raising an eyebrow playfully. Valentino huffed and crossed his top two arms, one of his lower ones still wrapped around my waist, the other holding a cigarette. Vox laughed softly, gave him a wink and zapped the cigarette with a bit of electricity, lighting it up.

“You’re not as funny as you think,” Valentino said dryly. “Anyway!” He picked me up and twirled me around abruptly, maneuvering me in a sudden dance.

“Val!”

“Oh shit,” Velvette said, taking out her phone. “This’ll be good.”

I did my best to move along with him. What was he even dancing to? This felt like a test. Fuck. I would have to tell Vox that his friends are weird. God I had no idea what o was doing. “I- uh, I don’t know how to dance,” I said nervously as I tried to follow along. “Sorry.”

“No worries, you’re doing wonderful, hermosa,” Val said with a smile. It seemed genuine. He kept trying to make more sexual and intimate moves, but I was able to avoid it fairly well. A casual side step or transition into another move entirely did the trick. Before he could say another word, though, Vox yanked me away, almost harshly.

“Ah, fuck,” I muttered, stumbling a bit. I nearly crashed into Vox, but I was able to stop myself just short. He shot me an apologetic glance, then glared at Valentino.

“Careful, Val,” he said, his voice filled with underlying menace. “We wouldn’t want to make our guest uncomfortable.”

“Spoilsport,” Valentino mumbled, rolling his eyes. He took a drag of his cigarette and blew a puff of smoke in my direction. I felt myself relax a bit. “You’ve got yourself quite the catch, you know. How did you say you found this stray again?”

Velvette had stopped recording and come up behind me. She tugged on my arm gently guiding me away from Vox and Val, beginning to take my measurements. “You’re quite the looker, you know,” she said quietly, mostly to herself. I didn’t resist her at all, I just sort of absentmindedly obliged with whatever she was doing. “It’s no wonder Vox likes you so much. God, he never shuts up about you.”

“Velvette,” Vox growled. A warning. Valentino came up to me again, helping Vel with the measurements. He ruffled my hair gently and blew another cloud of smoke at me, this time, directly in my face. “Valentino, stop that!”

“What? It’s just a bit of harmless fun,” Velvette said with a grin. She wrapped her arm around my shoulder and pulled me up against her. I felt dizzy and dazed. “I think I’ll have them as a model. Maybe they could perform for Val sometime. They’d make for a better show than those sloppy strippers he just hired.”

“Nobody is- no! Stop that,” Vox said, his screen flickering. He pushed the two aside and held me close to him, now more protective. “They aren’t a toy!”

“Maybe not, but you know the rules,” Valentino said slyly, putting out his cigarette. “The Vees always share.”

“Well not this time! Not today,” Vox said, holding me tight. His nails dug into my skin. I didn’t really notice. I was hardly aware of the conversation at all anymore. I watched Val put out his cigarette, feeling slightly disappointed but not knowing why. The smoke had been so pretty… “Retro is mine, got that?”

“Whatever you say,” Val said, rolling his eyes.

“No games, no tricks,” Vox said. “Nothing like that. Don’t mess with them.”

“Fine! I get it.”

“Good.” Vox linked his arm in mine and led me away, out of the room. “Come on, let’s get you some rest. Val’s smoke really did a number on you.”

#hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #writing #my writing #vox x reader #reader insert #x reader #vox fanfiction #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette

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newtness532 · 5 months

Text

im so annoyed with everything today, i think i need some tasty food and a million hours of sleep and then I'll be back to normal

#the teacher at the first class today was so dibsjdhdhdhdhsgs 😫#like she was teaching us things that are like unrelated to the class that shes teaching so idek why she was teaching it #but also its things that we have been learning since the 1st semester and we've done them in at least 10 classes and she was acting like #this was the 1st time we were hearing about it #like oh yeah we're on the 7th semester of studying nutrition but no one bothered to tell us how many calories are in a gram of fat #and she gave us homework 'to see if we know this' like #oh yes i can make a meal plan for a child with crohns or cystic fibrosis or celiac disease or everything else we've done this semester and #all the other semesters but i guess i cant tell you what micronutrients are in this one breakfast meal #like fuck off and stick to what you're supposed to be teaching #anyway i know im getting more annoyed than i should but she was just even more annoying than usual today #like she interrupted the lesson every 5 minutes to yell at someome to be quiet i wasnt even aware there were people talking until she yelled #anyway #also my new earphones aren't working well idk why ive definitely not been mistreating them that much for them to break in less than a month #like i had my old pair for at least 4 years until the broke and i dont think the wire got cut in them like the sound was coming out weird #but there was sound coming out. in the new ones you need to hold them in a very specific angle for sound to come out #and like im careful with how i put them away so what is up with them?#my theory is that they make wired earphones shitty on purpose so that you will spend a lot of money and buy wireless #also we had said from Tuesday that we would hang out with my friends today but i guess they forgot or idk and they made other plans #(to go home and sleep) and during the weekend the one friend wont be here and next week my family will be here so we probably wont hang out #again until next year and we have exams almost immediately so we wont be hanging out much then either #also my period is supposed to come soon and i hope that it will either come today or it will wait until after Christmas #ideally it will never come ever again but we cant always get what we want #anyway im gonna go eat the rest of my μεσογειακό and go take a nap #jo says stuff #personal ramblings

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aletterinthenameofsanity · 2 months

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Y'know, there's this gripe I've had for years that really frustrates me, and it has to do with Love, Simon and people joking about it and calling it too-pg and designed-for-straight-people and all the like. (A similar thing has happened to Heartstopper, but that's another conversation.)

I saw Love, Simon in theaters when it came out my senior year in high school. I saw it three times, once with my friends/parents on opening night, once with my brother over spring break, and once with my grandparents.

On opening night, the air in the room was electric. It was palpable. Half the heads in there were dyed various colors. Queer kids were holding hands. We were all crying and laughing and cheering as a group. My friends grabbed my hands at the part where Simon was outed and didn't let go until his parents were saying that they accepted him. My friend came out to me as non-binary. Another person in our group admitted that she had feelings for girls. It was incredible. I left shaking. This was the first mainstream queer romance movie that had ever been produced by one of the main five studios, and I know that sounds like another "first queer character from Disney" bit but you have to understand that even in 2018 this was groundbreaking. Getting to have a sweet queer rom-com where the main character was told that he got "to breathe now" after coming out meant so much to me and my friends.

But also, from a designed-for-straight-people POV (which, to be frank, it was written by a bisexual author and directed by a gay man, this was not designed for straight audiences), why is it a bad thing that it appealed to the widest possible audience? That it could make my parents and grandparents see things in a new light? My stepdad wasn't at all interested in rom-coms but he saw it with me because it was something I cared about and he hugged me when we came out of the theater. My very Catholic grandparents watched it with me and though my grandpa said he still didn't quite understand the whole 'gay thing,' all he wanted was for me to be happy and to have a happy ending like Simon did. My Nana actually cried when Simon came out and squeeze my hand when his mother told him he could breathe.

And when Martin blackmailed Simon, my mom, badass ally that she is, literally hissed "Dropkick him. Dropkick him in the balls" leading to multiple queer kids in the audience to laugh or smile. Having my parents there- the only parents, by the way, out of my group of queer and questioning friends- made multiple people realize that supportive adults were out there. That parents like those in Love, Simon do exist in real life.

When people complain about Heartstopper not being realistic or Love, Simon being too cutesy, I remember seeing Love, Simon on opening night. I remember my friend coming out and my stepdad hugging me and my mom defending us through this character. I remember the cheers that went through the audience when Bram and Simon kissed and the chatter in the foyer after the movie was over and the way that this movie made me understand that happy endings do exist.

Queer kids need happy endings. Straight people need entry points to becoming allies. Both of these things can come together in beautiful ways. They can find out about more queer culture later, but for now, let them have this. Let them all have a glimpse at a better, happier world. Let them have queer joy.

#love simon #simon vs thsa #simon spier #spierfeld #bram greenfeld #my experiences #meta #the importance of queer joy #heartstopper #becky albertalli #my mom also watched rwrb with me last year when it premiered #and let me tell you that was interesting sitting in the room with her for an r-rated romance movie like that

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suguann · 2 months

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an. part two of this | masterlist

You tell him you broke up with your boyfriend while he’s away for work, bunked up in a safe house in the middle of nowhere with shit reception, hearing your words as clear as day as if they weren’t the chopped-up version coming through his burner phone.

“It just…didn’t work out.”

It didn’t work out.

He pretends his stomach doesn’t pleasantly twist because he’d expected it to happen eventually. He’s not happy about it—although it does make the desert heat more bearable in his heavy tactical gear—and tells Soap to fuck off when he comments on it.

It was a one-time fuck because Simon doesn’t date. He’s tried in the past before he met you—the flowers, the late-night dinners—but with him being gone almost every other month (sometimes longer, shorter if he’s lucky), it never works out in the end. Sleeping with you twice would fall under that category, the quasi-relationship kind, and make everything messier than it needs to be.

Just some fun, no strings, those are the words he promised.

If only he believed them.

He does, for all of two weeks until he’s home again, and it’s summer, so you’re wearing a flowy dress that shows off the long expanse of your legs.

(He’s a goner—not even sure why he tried to think otherwise.)

That one time he’d promised turns into a second, both of you stumbling into your apartment after a night out. The music from the pub still thumping loudly underneath your floor as he pushes you against the front door, hands in your hair—on your waist, underneath your skirt, down your thigh to hitch it over his waist—teasing your mouth open with a swipe of his tongue across your bottom lip.

You make this delighted little noise in the back of your throat, arching into him, and his hand spans down your stomach, beneath your underwear, to nudge your messy clit with his knuckle, wanting to hear all the sounds you make now that he has you alone.

A whiny cry of his name rewards him—jeans tightening around his waist at the sound—when his fingers go down, down until they press against your tight little hole, one finger pressing inside slowly. "If I make you cum, I get to fuck you here.”

You smile prettily, and it disarms him. “If you make me cum, you can fuck me however you want.”

Neither of you makes it to the bed, falling asleep on the living room floor instead, the blanket from the couch draped haphazardly over both of you with his arm curled over your waist.

That night had been a slip of judgment, a product of wanting something warm and soft after several months of only having his hand for company.

It happens again and again, and he keeps letting it happen until there’s no more hiding under the guise of just fun because it somehow turns into a lot more than that.

Simon can’t explain how it happens—maybe becoming something he can touch and hold and think about often—but he finds himself in an exclusive relationship with you that isn’t exactly a relationship because he’s unsure of the ins and outs that they entail.

(Always has been.)

His father was a shit role model, and it was always easier finding someone new who didn’t know his name or care about his scars and only wanted a nice fuck. There had never been any point in shooting for something serious when it was always out of the question for him, until now, that is.

He takes you to that over-rated restaurant overlooking the Thames Marcus never brought you to. A picture of you and him with the sunset in the background—your smile almost blinding in the photo—becomes his home screen, and he finds he doesn’t care when Soap has something to say about it.

He lets you do nonsensical shit, like buying small plants for his house that are surely going to die from him being gone before he comes up with the great idea to give you a key. It’s just a key.

(It’s more than just a key.)

Simon finds himself asking if he can come over more often throughout the week, which slowly moulds and shifts into nights filled with things other than sex—sleeping after a long day of work, cuddling on the couch, cooking together, going to the movies—he doesn’t try to make a big deal out of it because you used to hang out all the time without sex.

(Somewhere, there’s a but in there.)

There’s still no label to whatever this is, and he wonders if you want him to be the first to say the thing you’ve both been dancing around for a little over…he can’t remember, but he knows it’s been long enough for your things to mix in with his at his house.

Be with me because I’m yours, and you’re mine, that’s what he’s trying to say, and it’s never the right time. Men like him—a little broken, rough, and jagged around the edges sharp enough to cut—aren’t good with words like that.

(That’s what he thought.)

If he hadn’t seen you talking to a guy at the pub, eyes crinkling in that same sweet way whenever Simon makes you laugh, he wonders if he would’ve been the first to break from the start. He knows it’s your job as a bartender to be nice, but his jaw clicks at the sight of the guy leaning over the bar and into your space, almost too close.

The feeling doesn’t go away until he has you spread out on your mattress under him—clothes haphazardly peeled out of the way for him to put his mouth on you—your lips pursed tight around two of his fingers to give you something to focus on as his other hand works between your thighs, pressing down on your tongue when gurgled little sounds slip out.

He teases you with a small, pink vibrator he found inside your bedside table, your legs kicking out and toes curling into his calves.

“Mine. This is mine, love,” he groans, pressing you further into the bed with his weight. “Do you understand?”

You nod, tears pearling and leaking from the corner of your eyes.

“Lemme cum,” you whine, words muffled. “Simon, I want to cum. Please.”

He won’t lie that he’s close after jerking into his fist to the sight of you writhing on the sheets—swears he can feel his heartbeat throbbing against the back of his fingers—takes in your surprised expression when he pushes forward, impaling you on the first few inches of his cock.

His stomach twists from the squeal that escapes your throat, and fuck, your cunt, so hot and tight with little pulses that drive him crazy, only growing tighter when he turns up the speed on the vibrator.

“‘Mm, gonna cum. I’m—”

He grits his teeth as you start to flutter around his cock once he’s rooted inside you. “Go on—fuck—go on, love. Let me feel it.”

You look so perfect like this, like a dream: lips parted into an enticing little O with his name tumbling out in breathy mewls, tits hanging out from the bra he shoved to the side, eyes glassy and unfocused.

“So fucking pretty.” He kisses your throat, panting into your sweat-slick skin, and it’s not long before he’s falling over the edge with you.

Next time, he’ll have the courage to tell you: that you’re not someone he calls for a meaningless fuck on the weekend, that Simon misses you when he’s gone and can’t wait to come home, that he wants to try with you—except not when he’s balls deep and trembling inside your heavenly cunt.

But the smile he feels against his shoulder makes him think that maybe…

Maybe you already know.

#simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod smut #cod imagine #cod x reader #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost smut #.things i write

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writingouthere · 3 months

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bestfriendsbrother!Sukuna x pregnant!reader one-shot

summary: you're excited to finally share with all your friends that your pregnant when the party is interrupted by your best friend's older brother, who you didn't invite, but who you did have unprotected sex with less than two months ago.

cw: reader is pregnant, Sukuna is a bad dude, possessive behavior, minor smut, still as usual nicer than it sounds because I can't help it.

**************

"I'm pregnant!"

Your news is met with a period of silence before your friends look at each other, uncertain as to how to react.

Nobara finally breaks the silence, an eyebrow raised. "And we feel...."

"We're happy about it," you say and your friends are then quick to congratulate you. You hear some sort of scuffling happening behind you and you turn around to see Yuuji unfolding a "We're having a Baby!" banner which makes Megumi nearly jump out of his chair.

"Holy shit, did you two-"

"No!"

"Ew, no!"

Yuuji frowns at you. "The 'ew' wasn't necessary."

You and Nobara scoff. "It was," you tell him. "And I say that with all my love."

"Okay, so if this idiot didn't knock you up-"

"Hey!"

"-then who did?"

You'd been expecting the question and had prepared for it. "It was just a one night stand, he's not really father material." Everyone looks like they want to ask more questions so you smile at them, genuinely happy they all look ready to commit a crime for you. "It's okay, I have a good job and this is something I've wanted for a long time. This baby will be really loved because it will have me and, I hope, all of you."

Your friends are quick to agree and there's some lighter questions about potential names, nurseries and Nobara and Todo are looking at her phone debating baby onesies, when the door to you and Yuuji's apartment opens and someone you had definitely not invited comes in.

"Sukuna! You're late, you missed the big news," Yuuji calls out as he walks over and claps his brother on the back. A few people call out greetings as Yuuji's older brother looks around the apartment. His eyes linger on you for a second, a smirk tugging up on his lip before he notices the sign hanging crooked over the kitchen doorway and he laughs without an ounce of humor.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me, you knocked someone up? You irresponsible piece of shit-"

"It's not his and don't kill him, you asshole," Megumi says from where he has now joined the onesies discussion and points over at you. "It's the other person who lives here."

Sukuna pauses from where he was about to murder his brother, to look back over at you. You wonder if his brain is doing the same cursed math that you had done when you were hyperventilating, holding a stick covered in your own pee, but before he could ask anything, Maki ended the silent stand off.

"And we're happy about it, so get happy you piece of shit."

With that, the party continues on, people breaking off until little groups and snacks being placed strategically throughout the apartment.

You're feeling thirsty, and a little exhausted from the burning stare that's been directed at you for the past hour when you excuse yourself from where Miwa and Mechamaru had been talking about their own future plans for children, who you're sure would be socially inept but gorgeous enough to make up for it, and made your way to the kitchen.

You were pulling out some water, no alcohol for you even though you really needed it, when you felt someone's presence behind you.

"So when were you going to tell me we were having a baby?"

"Never, because it's not yours," you answered firmly, slamming the door to the fridge for good measure. Sukuna leaned against the cabinet next to you but you'd known him long enough to see the pose for what it was. A ruse, a performance of casualness. The fingers on his hand tapped against his arm like he was playing the piano, one of the few tics he had that showed when he was feeling, well just feeling anything in general.

"Oh please, you're not fucking anyone else."

"You don't know that and we're not fucking, we fucked once. Singular, past tense."

He laughed and looked down at you, the same predatory look he'd had the night he'd helped you make this child.

"And once was all it took huh? Fucked you so good, you're going to have my baby," he says, voice mocking and he stands up to his full height which puts him over you. He takes the glass of water you're really regretting now, and places it on the counter opposite the two of you.

"It-it's not your baby," but you don't sound sure and he knows it and he presses up against you until your back is to the counter. Nowhere for you to run.

"It's mine, just like you're mine. I don't know who you think you're kidding with this denial of me but it's done now, sweetheart."

You go to answer him and Sukuna covers your mouth with his hand like the rude fuck he is and then leans down, his mouth next to your ear. You look around, worried someone might see you but the gap between the fridge and the counter conceals you both and the room next to you keeps getting louder and louder. The sun had set and there were maybe some lamps in the living room, but here in the kitchen it was dark.

"I let you have your space and your time, two months of it actually. I let you have your little moral crisis about fucking a criminal and it being the best dick you've ever had wah wah, but I was impatient before I knew you were having my baby, and now," he leans back so his eyes, and they're on fire his eyes, are level with yours. "I'm done waiting."

You tug on Sukuna's hand and he rolls his eyes before removing it from your mouth and places it on your hip which doesn't seem like a good trade-off but at least you can speak again.

"What does that even mean?" You ask him, your voice showing the incredulity you're feeling but if Sukuna had anything, it was audacity.

"I mean I'll give you a week to tell your friends you're having our baby and that we're getting married." He says it so seriously that you can't help but laugh which seems to be the wrong response when his other hand moves to your hip as well and squeezes, tight.

"We are not getting married, are you out of your mind?"

"Why not, we're already having a baby, are you going to deny me the ability to live with my own child."

"Still not your kid, and we can't get married Sukuna. We never even dated! We fucked one time, that doesn't mean we should just be together forever."

"We fucked for one night, it was more than one time-"

"Not the argument you think it is," you interrupt him but you still let him pick you up and place you on the counter. You sit there while he runs his hands up and down your thighs, the sounds of the party washing over the two of you as you stay in your little bubble.

"We'd be good together," he finally says. "Not just because I knocked you up on the first try." You hit him but he just smirks and moves his hands more purposefully on your legs. You let him pull them apart and step between them even though warning bells are going off in your head, telling you these are moves you'd seen before and they had led to you being in the predicament the two of you were debating in the first place.

"It's inevitable, the two of us. You can say you hate me, or that I'm not a good man, and that's true. But there's a reason why you've never stayed with any of those nice boys," he says and his hands slips up the skirt you're wearing to get at your bare thighs underneath. "Because you don't want a nice guy, you don't want a good man, you want me and I'm too selfish to let you keep torturing both of us by doing this pretending shit."

The fingers on his right hand press against your cunt through your panties while his other hand squeezes your thigh and he moans sinfully into the quiet air.

"God, I knew I didn't make up this warm, wet cunt. Been fucking my fist until I chafed the past two months just thinking about it."

You whimper as he moves your underwear aside and slips one finger up and down your slit, not touching your clit or going where you want him, but doing enough that you move against his hand.

"This does not mean that we should get married," you protest and he teases a finger against your opening, pulling it back when your hips tilt up in an attempt to get him where you want.

"Why not? I heard pregnant women get super horny, what are you going to do without me around to make sure this filthy pussy gets stuffed just the way she needs." He finally slips one finger in, his thumb moving to tease against your clit, just the way you like it and your head smacks back against the cabinet. He moves the hand that had been on your thigh up so he can cradle your head.

"I'm sure I could find someone willing to help me out," you say scoffing and his hand freezes which makes you whine a little and try to get him to move again but his legs limit your range of motion.

"You ever try to fuck someone else ever again and the coroner is going to have to get dental records to figure out who the dumb fuck with no fingers, no eyes and no cock is, you got it?"

He's not joking, you know he's not joking but it doesn't stop you from leaning forward until you finally get your lips on his. He hums into your kiss, cupping your cheek in his free hand while the other one goes back to opening you up. You're so wet that the kitchen fills with the sounds of his him finger fucking your cunt but you can't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. He's not wrong that pregnancy has made you more sensitive, or maybe it's just you not having gotten laid since the two of you had slept together.

He's got three fingers in you when you come and he swallows your moans greedily with mouth while his fingers slow inside of you, curving just right to make you think you could probably come again soon, oversensitive or not.

Before you can test that out, he pulls away from you. He licks the fingers he pulled out of you clean and you you're reminded of how the last time he'd made you come twice just with his mouth.

"Where are you going?" you ask him, a little more breathless than you like.

"We are going home," he tells you, grabbing your hands and helping you down off the counter. Giving you a kiss on your forehead that you would tease him for if you were anyone else.

"Home?" you ask, confused because you are currently standing in your apartment unless his orgasms suddenly give one the power to teleport.

"Yeah, our home, not the shitty apartment you share with my brother. I mean we'll have to get somewhere bigger soon, for our baby."

For the first time since you found out you were pregnant, someone who was not you laid out their palm on your still just the same stomach. There was no change from how it always looked but Sukuna looked smug just the same and you felt like you were still missing a few things.

"What-"

"I mean I can fuck you here, I just thought your sensibilities and the fact your friends were all out there would make you uncomfortable."

Your post orgasm flush finally leaves you and you look up at him in panic. "Oh my god, do you think someone saw-"

"It's okay, Fushiguro kept them out I'm sure."

You don't want to know but ask anyway. "Why?"

"Because he walked in earlier and looked like he'd seen a ghost. Tell me, is the kid still a virgin? He's pretty but I can't imagine he has a lot of good options in your crowd."

When you leave to go to Sukuna's, the only people who don't look confused(or horrified in Yuuji's case) at your departure are Maki and Megumi.

If the confusion hadn't been cleared up by the time the baby came, the pink hair probably answered any follow up questions.

dealing with some writer's block and had this idea. didn't feel like writing a whole smut scene, my b but saving that energy for the next(?) neighborsukuna x singlemom one.

side note: Megumi is scarred for life, for sure. Yuuji gets over his horror once he's an uncle.

#jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut

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kasagia · 4 months

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Losing your memory

Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: He used to be your Coryo. Now he has become the man you don't know. The Plinth heir. The future president of Panem. You pray every day to forget about the sweet boy you fell in love with, on whom you could always count. To forget who he was and lose the memory of the past. Just like he did. Well... not exactly. Unfortunately for you, he still wants to remember you. Inspired by: "Losing your memory" by Ryan Star Word count: 7,2 k ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You've been avoiding him ever since you found out he was back in the Capitol.

A month ago, this news would have aroused great joy and ecstasy in you. Your Coryo is back home. He managed to shorten his exile and gain Dr. Gaul's favour again.

But the man who returned from District 12 was not your dear friend or lover. This wasn't your sweet Coryo, with whom you walked hand in hand to school. This wasn't the boy you shared your lunch with. This wasn't a boy who cared about your well-being above his own. This wasn't a boy who joked about snobbish children spoiled by the richest people in Panem with you and Sejanus at the end of the day. (Although he talked with them, trying to keep up good appearances—he used to call that one of the responsibilities of being Snow.)

The man who came back was Coriolanus. The new Plinth heir. The shell of someone you knew. The ruthless, cold pet of the mad creator of the Hunger Games you despised.

Sejanus' death didn't hurt you as much as the transformation of Coriolanus from the person closest to you into someone you barely even recognized. And from the tearful, sad, resentful, and disappointed stories you heard from Tigris, you had an accurate picture of the man who took your Coryo's place.

And you hated him with all your heart.

Especially after what he promised you when you stayed at his apartment for one snowy winter night.

You lay wrapped in the various blankets and quilts Coryo and Tigris could find. It was winter, and they didn't have much money for additional heating, so they mostly walked around the house in several layers and slept under piles of clothes.

You didn't know about that that night.

Tigris lent him her quilt so that he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the poverty his family had fallen into since you were supposed to come to sleepover with him after the argument with your parents.

Cuddling up to your blonde boy, you tried to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat. You frowned at the sound of it being a little faster than usual.

You lift your head and look at him carefully. His gaze is distant and thoughtful as he lazily draws patterns on your back as he presses you against his chest.

"Coryo?" you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand tenderly and forcing those blue irises you have loved so much to look at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

He sighs long and presses a kiss on your forehead, the tip of his nose stroking your hair, as he is inhaling your scent. "I just... I just think about the fact that you deserve so much more. My grandma and Tigirs deserve much more than... this." he says with disgusting pointing at the room you were in.

"This..." you say, clasping your hands together and pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand. "Is more than enough. You are all I need. And one day, when you are President of Panem or any other important figure in the Capitol, none of you will lack anything. This is a temporary state. You are too smart to be anything less than great, Coryo. You know it."

You see him hold back tears. He pushed your head onto his chest to rest his chin on your head. He is not crying. He almost never cries. But you know how close he is to it by the slight quiver in his breathing.

"I know I don't show it often enough... but you mean... everything to me. I can't imagine how I would go through these all without you by my side."

"I love you, Corio. Just promise me you won't forget this. What you went through, what you experienced. Don't forget your struggle. That's something you should never be ashamed of." he tenses at your words but leans in to kiss you passionately and hungrily. Putting all his unexpressed emotions into action and into that kiss that warmed you more than any blanket or radiator could ever.

"I promise. I will never forget how you kept me sane. When you were the only shelter I could go to and the only support that could bear the boundlessness of my troubles and doubts. How you were my only moonlight in the worst of my darknesses." you laugh softly, recognising part of his words.

"Quoting poets will get you nowhere, Coriolanus Snow." you say teasingly, rubbing your nose against him, at which he chuckles, licking his lips.

"Well... I've learned that in some situations, it gets me somewhere. And it's a very cold night tonight, don't you think? I can't let you freeze to death." he says as his hands go under your shirt—actually, his shirt that you stole from his closet.

"Well… I guess there's nothing left for me… but to place myself under your solicitous care." you sigh softly as he pins you underneath him, making sure the cocoon of blankets is still tightly wrapped around the two of you.

"I couldn't have said it better." he whispers and presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath countless times. He pulls away just a little to say against your lips, "You're mine. We belong together. No matter what."

He makes you shiver as you eagerly agree to everything he says. You don't realise how, in the future, you will curse every single intimate, sweet moment you shared with him.

Ironically, you realise how deep he has gotten under your skin the moment he returns to the Capitol, and you have to avoid him, not when he is sent into exile.

It was probably because when he was gone, you were too distraught to bother leaving your room, opening the blinds, or wiping the tears that somehow kept leaking from your eyes to notice how almost every place reminded you of him. If you could, you'd go back in time and tell yourself there's no point in crying over the asshole he's become.

Although maybe you already felt that your Corio was leaving, and it was a way of mourning him?

Anyway, you saw him everywhere. Not Coriolanus. Coryo. He stalked you in the library, the park, the cafe near the academy that you two and Sejanus liked to go to, and of course the Academy itself. Kudos to your parents for not letting him into your house. At least he didn't pollute your room with memories of him.

Involuntarily, you wonder if he also sees you, for example, in every corner of his apartment. Or maybe he renovated it beyond recognition to erase all traces of his past?

You didn't know.

And you didn't want to know.

The information about him that Tigris gave you when you met her at your house when Coriolanus was at the university for classes was sufficient.

Just because it didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean you would abandon your only real friend. And just because things didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean she would stop (more or less subtly) encouraging you to go back to him.

"We talked about you." she says, making adjustments to your dress that she made for your birthday party thrown by your parents. Another one of the unpleasant responsibilities.

"You and your grandma?" you ask, trying to avoid HIM as a topic as much as possible.

"No. Me and Coriolanus." she says, pinning something to your waist—some decorative strip of fabric or something—you're not sure; you're too focused on the window and the bustling city as you are trying to ignore her words. "You know… I think… I think I saw in his eyes… the old Coryo. For a brief moment, but… maybe if you came back to him, he would come back to himself too."

"I'm sorry, Tigris, but I think he went too far on his path to simply go back to who he was. Surely not because of me."

"I understand… I just really miss him." she says it in a soft, broken tone, and your heart breaks at it. You hug her with all your strength, uniting with her pain that you also felt so deeply.

"Me too." you whisper in her ear as she cries into your shoulder.

Tigris was a very strong woman. She always impressed you. You wanted to be as strong as her. But even the toughest had to cry sometimes.

After all, there comes a time when even the snow melts... even if only for a little while.

You held him tightly in your arms as Corio cried into your chest.

His grandmother fell ill. Hard. Without a doctor, she definitely wouldn't be able to get out of this on her own, and they didn't have the money to pay for one, let alone the medicines.

Your boyfriend spent the whole day planning, thinking, and getting any money, but it was not enough even to buy the cheapest antibiotic.

However, you didn't expect that after you found out it all from Tigris and ran to him as fast as you could with the chicken soup prepared by your servants and all your pocket money, he would start crying.

Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.

You handed the money and soup to Tigris, who, after feeding up their grandma, quickly ran out with her to the doctor. At that time, you were holding your boyfriend in your arms in the other room, who simply fell apart from his helplessness.

"Shh… it's going to be okay, Coryo. She will live, falsify that stupid hymn and hate me for not being enough for you just as she used to." your attempt to comfort him didn't help. If anything, he only cried more, holding onto you tighter and tighter.

"I should be able to take care of them... I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I'm pathetic and weak. I'm not worthy of being called Snow."

"Hey, my sweet boy, look at me. You are strong. You are the strongest man I know. You are looking after me all the time; you literally give me everything you have, the last piece of your food, to keep me happy, safe, and full when I forget to bring a damn second breakfast from home or don't have time to eat something. You love me, and I love you, and that's how it works. We care about each other. And I have never, ever regretted being with you. Because what we have… is more valuable than anything else in this world. I trust you implicitly, and I will always be by your side. You are not alone with your problems and suffering. Not as long as I am here."

"But for how long will you stay? For how long will you endure with me?" he asks, and after one look at those a little red from crying, beautiful blue iris, you answer without a shadow of hesitation.

"As long as you love me and I can trust you. As long as I breathe. As long as I am in your mind and heart. I am not going anywhere, Coryo. Money can be earned, but what we have... you can't buy it. What I feel for you is more dear to me than any treasure in this world and I will never exchange it for anything else." you promise, stroking his hair tenderly to help him calm down.

You should've then wondered why he doesn't agree with you then. Why doesn't he say that he also feels this way and that he also values you more than money, glory, and honours?

But he blinds you by telling you for the first time that he loves you.

And you cling to him, wiping the tears from his face with your lips and foolishly believing that your love is pure and eternal.

Like a driven snow.

You knew this day would come someday. The day you let your guard down. But you hoped it would take a little longer before you came face-to-face with Coriolanus.

You are completely unprepared for this. You just freeze like a deer in headlights when you see his face at the end of one of the university's corridors as he walks forward, looking for something in his bag. Before you can even think about running away, he looks up, probably feeling watched, and his blue, icy eyes meet yours.

You both stand there transfixed, looking at each other, taking in the changes in your appearance since the last time you saw each other, which was after you broke up with him, when you saw how tenderly he treated Lucy Gray and how comfortable he was around her. And after someone politely informed you that he had kissed her.

"Y/N!" Coriolanus calls out to you and takes a step towards you, but you quickly step back and run through the crowd of people to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up that easily. He never does. "Y/N! Wait!"

You have no intention of doing so. You run as fast as you can, bumping into several students along the way. You don't even bother apologising; you just run, hoping that Snow will stop being hot on your heels. Which, by the way, was a miserable dream after how fit he was after his training and the time he spent as a peacekeeper.

On the way, you notice a woman's bathroom and immediately run into it. You lock yourself in a cabin, thanking God or whoever is up that you managed to get an empty cabin and hide in it. You hear his quick footsteps and the door opening, followed by the screams of other women in the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you hear him obediently leave the room.

You're not leaving, though. You are not stupid. You know he's waiting at the door for you to come out. You decide to wait here until the end of the break between classes and hope that he will drop the idea of continuing to chase you and talk to you, and he will attend the lecture instead.

As the bathroom begins to empty, you realise that the next lectures must be soon. You stand silently on the toilet seat, listening carefully, waiting for the right moment to emerge from your miserable hiding place.

Just as you are about to reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door opens. You shiver as you hear heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles of the empty bathroom. And you think that you can smell the subtle scent of roses in the air.

"Come on, Y/N. I know you're here. I just want to talk."

Said the snake moments before eating the bird alive.—you think, mentally mocking how gentle he was trying to present himself. As if he could still be your Coryo.

"I have time. I can play hide-and-seek with you, if you want to. After all, you always liked to play this when we were kids. And you always lost."

You roll your eyes, listening carefully to his footsteps. He was opening the first cabin. You were in the middle one—the one a little closer to the door (and him).

"We'll have to talk eventually. You can't avoid me and ignore me, no matter how good you are at it lately. Let's stop this ridiculous, childish behaviour and go talk over coffee and some of your favourite cookies at the cafe near the academy. Just like the good old days. Well, this time all your orders are on me. What do you say?"

You would have snorted if it hadn't immediately revealed your hiding place to him. How dare he invite you to the place where you, he, and Sejanus spent the most time? To the place where your first unofficial date was.

He wanted to manipulate you, to make you believe that your Corio is still there and lives behind the façade of the rich, arrogant asshole he has become. But you knew better. His eyes told you everything you needed to know.

Even without Tigris' help, you realised that he... was a completely different person. He turned into somebody you only used to know in the past.

"Seriously? Still nothing? So you prefer the hard way, then..." he says, opening another cabin. You wait patiently for him to come to yours.

You breathe as quietly as you can, trying not to let him know which cabin you're in. You listen to his slow, measured steps as, with the incredible confidence and calm that is typical of him, he opens each cabin door, moving inexorably towards you.

Your heart quickens, beating madly, when you see his shoes in the whole, under the cabin's door. He reaches for the door handle, and before he can open it, you push the door against him with all your strength.

You hear him curse, taking a few steps back in a daze and holding his nose. You take the opportunity and run to the exit of the bathroom as fast as you can, not looking back.

"Fuck! Y/N! Are you insane?!" he shouts, running after you.

You reach the door just in time and slam it behind you, sprinting out of the university. You get in your car and drive away with your tyres screeching. In the rearview mirror, you see him leaving the building and following your car with a furious glare.

"I can't believe you invited Snow." you huff, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Your father is buttoning his cuffs, and your mother stands next to you, also putting the finishing touches on her appearance. "You hated him when we were together."

"He is an ambitious and clever boy. Plinth did well to make him his heir. You should reconsider whether he really is that bad. This match would have opened many doors for us. Not only among Plinth's allies but also among Dr. Gaul. God knows how she favours this boy. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be president of Panem."

"If so, I will run away abroad." you say it bitterly, putting your lipstick back in your purse and adjusting the necklace around your neck to make yourself look perfect.

"Don't be stupid. Snow wouldn't be so bad for you. Since you are our only child, we must marry you well. Make sure your husband doesn't blow our fortune in a week. And Snow is a thoughtful boy. He wouldn't let you live below the poverty line."

"And he's quite handsome." your mother adds, straightening your father's tie. "Still, he's not a womaniser. I heard he turned down the... special attention of Crane's daughter and a few other Capitol's girls. I guess he's been alone since your breakup."

"Hmm. Great. He wouldn't cheat on me with other snobs in the capital, but he would fuck with whores in the district. The perfect candidate for a husband." you scoff, walking with them to the next room, where the photographers were waiting to take a photo of you together.

“Language, Y/N. You are a lady. Besides, it is not certain whether he and this Lucy Gray actually had something between them. After all, she's a woman from the district.” your mom says this, smiling for the cameras.

The flashes blind you a little, but with your father's and mother's hands on your shoulders, you somehow manage to keep your pose, fake, pretty smile, and opened eyes.

Your father thanks them and leads you out of the room and into the corridor leading to the great hall where the ball was to be held.

"And even if he did, it's good that he had some fun. It will make him appreciate the treasure that you are and see that you are irreplaceable." he says, taking the box out of his pocket. He hands it to you with a warm smile. "Happy birthday, my treasure."

"We've already given her..." your father shushes your mother. You send them a confused look as you open the medium-sized box.

You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.

"It will match your dress perfectly." your father says proudly. You nod and walk to the mirror to put it on, despising the object in your hands with all your heart. You may look like a princess, but you've never felt so... disgusted with yourself before.

This feeling intensified even more when, after a toast and receiving wishes from several of your friends and more powerful families, you managed to sneak out to the balcony. Not long after you, all the single, young men of the richest family on the Capitol entered, with Coriolanus among them. They each took a cigarette and started smoking, gossiping about the events of the week…

And their topic of conversation was exactly what you were afraid of when you got that fucking tiara.

"Have you seen this? I bet they're pure diamonds. Old Y/L/N wants to marry her off so much that he's using every trick possible."

"He doesn't need to do much. She is beautiful in her own right. But this character… it's easier to train a dog than such a stubborn cow."

"What Snow? Are you now regretting that the Capitol's Diamond slipped from your hands? I heard she wants nothing to do with you. How unfortunate that it happened at the moment when you started to count in the eyes of the elite, and now you really have any chance of grabbing this precious gem for yourself."

The Capitol's Diamond. You shudder, thinking about the nickname you've been given.

That's what they called you. The sole heiress to your parents' fortune. Diamond of the Capitol, the best match in the city, with a dowry greater than any other woman. Anyone who won your hand was guaranteed to reach the top and success with your family's connections, your charm, beauty, and brain. And these vultures knew it perfectly well.

You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.

Your Coryo only took advantage of your position in society when he had to. He didn't ask you for money or for you to convince your father to whisper a good word about him here and there. Maybe it was because of his pride; maybe he really didn't care. You have no idea. But Coryo despised that term as much as you did. You wondered if that had changed as well.

"I'm still in the game." he replies evasively, sipping his drink. The others laugh and he frowns in displeasure.

"Sure. Because the way she ran away from you today when you approached her with a gift says exactly that." they mock him. You see him clench his jaw, glaring at them coldly as he considers his next move.

"Enjoy it while you can. Your good mood will end when our cat-and-mouse game is over and the Capitol's Diamond hangs proudly on my shoulder." you huff, shaking your head in disbelief. You come out of hiding, and all the men on the balcony tense up and look at you in surprise.

Especially Coriolanus. Suddenly everyone is staring intently at the garden of your estate, too shy to look at you. Except Snow. He drills a hole into you with his gaze as he thinks of a way to undo what he said.

"Gentlemen." you scoff, walking past them and ignoring Coriolanus' glare. "For your information, I would rather live in one of the districts than marry any of you. Enjoy the party." you add sweetly, walking back to the ballroom.

The party is in full swing. You are talking to Thomas, using a sweet boy in a shameful way—to scare other men away from you. Just as you expected, they started flocking to you like flies to a fire.

So you chose the least spoiled of them. Thomas was nice and funny; you had a good time talking to him, and dancing with him was even better.

He wasn't rich; he wasn't part of the cream of society. You were really starting to enjoy spending time with him. And most importantly... he looked nothing like Coriolanus. He was nice for the eyes, but his dark hair, eyes, and sweet, shy personality made him drastically different from your ex. So he was the perfect break from your dramatic love life. Boring, nice change.

You danced to a waltz with him. He held you gently, close but respectful, not invading your personal space. He was a perfect gentleman. The man of your dreams.

If only Coriolanus' icy eyes weren't focused on both of you like a predator waiting for its prey to stumble, you would be able to enjoy Thomas' company to the fullest.

You are with him at the buffet, sipping drinks, when suddenly the last person you expected to meet here approaches you.

"Mrs. Plinth." you whisper in shock as he stands in front of you.

She looks—probably the way she feels. Nice on the outside and devastated on the inside. The dark circles under her eyes cannot be fully covered by makeup, and the deep black of her dress is a clear reminder of what she is still going through.

You can't imagine the pain he's going through right now. And you wonder why the woman decided to join her husband for your birthday party. Since Sejanus' death, she has rarely left their apartment.

"Y/N. Can I steal you from this young man for a moment?"

"Of course." you say, not even looking in Thomas' direction as you and Mrs. Plinth walk to one of the empty living rooms in your mansion. You close the door behind her and point to the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Or to eat?"

"No. There is no need, darling. I just… I just came here to give you something." she says, pulling a thick letter out of her purse. "I… the letters from Sejanus are still reaching us. The flow of information between the districts and the Capitol is… very heavy and long. Especially when the peacekeepers are now checking every one of his correspondence. He sent it to you. Or rather, he wanted you to send it to him. Or rather, he wanted you to have it, just in case he couldn't… I'm sorry."

Your heart aches with sadness, seeing her on the verge of tears. She probably has no one to talk to about her son except her husband. After all, Sejanus was a traitor of Panem…

"He was a wonderful friend. The best one somebody could have. I could always count on him. Thank you for... taking the trouble to give me a letter from him. That... means a lot." you say, fighting the urge to hug the woman. The Capitol is not famous for acts of tenderness, mercy, or compassion. You had to keep up a facade. Always.

You take the letter from her and walk her to the exit. You give her one sympathetic look—everything you could afford in your position—and close the door behind her.

You sit on the couch and open the letter with trembling hands, trying not to look too closely at the way he wrote your name on the envelope. You know that will remind you of how you taught him how to decorate letters in his first days at the Capitol. Because everything here had to be perfectly beautiful. Even the fucking handwriting.

A bracelet falls out of the envelope and onto your lap. It is not particularly beautiful or sumptuous. It is a simple strap holding a peg-shaped pendant with some black, crushed stone placed behind a piece of glass.

You place it on the coffee table and open the letter with trembling hands. You already feel that after all this you will have to fix your makeup, which you will probably ruin with tears, but Sej's letter cannot wait until the end of the party.

Y/N, If you are somehow reading this letter, it means that I am not at your 20th birthday party, which makes me very sad. (You know how I love celebrating in your garden away from these Capitol's snobs.) Coming back, you know that I wish you all the best (along with Coryo. He's too big of a stick up his ass to write to you, even though he misses you and can't stop thinking about you. Take pity on me and write to this stubborn idiot, because I don't think I can stand another tirade about you and your perfection. Seriously. Our boy is getting mad because of this despair. I don't recognise him at all.) So, my dear friend, I wish you the best. I don't have any trinkets, interesting books, sweets, or anything suitable as a gift here, so I hope you'll be satisfied with what I came up with. I am not a poet, so don't laugh at me. I shall hear... or not. I made the bracelet, which you've probably already seen, myself. And that stone that is inside (and I hope it survived) is coal. I wanted to give this to you as a symbol of who you are to me. Everyone sees you as a diamond, something precious and beautiful. But for me and probably other people close to you, you are something more. This shiny diamond facade hides carbon. A simple coal, an ordinary soul like many others. But you made something more out of that ordinary coal. You are a diamond. Indestructible, the most durable of all. The purest form, preserved among the other gems and stones of the Capitol, because that's what all these power-hungry assholes are—coals that have decided not to change, to choose what is easy for them. I hope now you can see why I liked that nickname for you, diamond. So I hope you always stay true to yourself. No matter what. That's what I learned here, and I want to pass it on to you. Although I hope that by then the three of us will meet again in the Capitol. Do not wait for us both, Sejanus P.S. I miss you too.

You fold the letter and put it back in the envelope. You wipe away the tears that remain on your cheeks with your hands and take a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down.

You freeze when suddenly someone's arms wrap around you. The scent of roses hits your nostrils.

You get up from the couch like you've been burned and push Coriolanus' arms away from you. The feeling of sadness quickly turns to anger and pure fury as you stare at Snow.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you growl through a clenched jaw, extremely glad that there's a couch between you, or you'd hit him. And it was easier for you to explain your tears and smeared makeup than your red knuckles.

"Sweet, kind Plinth, giving you thoughtful gifts from beyond the grave. You love the dead Sejanus so much and ignore the living me. It must be hypocrisy on your part, don't you think? You accuse me of forgetting about Sejanus when you treat me so shamefully, worse than a dog. Should I die so that you can finally stop giving me the silent treatment and running away from me?"

"Believe me, you don't want to hear what I have to say to you." you huff, taking the bracelet and the letter. You hide them in the bodice of your dress and go to the mirror to fix your smudged makeup.

"You do not have to do that. Your boy isn't at the party anymore anyway." he says, standing so that you can see his reflection in the mirror.

"What?" you ask in surprise, turning to face him. You both stare at each other. In fact, you're only now getting a chance to take a good look at him. And you notice with dissatisfaction that the bastard found out from Tigris what your dress would look like, and he chose a suite so that both of you would match. "Where is Thomas?"

"Your little boy toy? Do you think he's enough of a distraction? That he can replace me? That he'll make you feel what I feel? Maby, that he can even protect you from me? Only I know you. I'm the only one worthy of your fucking attention and affection." you push past him, but he grabs your elbow.

"Touch me again and I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat." you growl, breaking away from his grip.

"Such aggression… I don't remember you from this side." he mocks you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You step away from him and cross your arms, staring at him defiantly.

"I will ask you one last time. Where is Thomas?"

"Let's just say that your mother and I caught him stealing your jewelry. We were merciful enough to solve the matter quietly. You will never see that garbage on the ball or any gala again. Certainly not on yours."

"Were you the one who framed him for this?" his silence and the calculating, self-proud look of the cat that caught the canary (or, in this case, the snake that choked the mouse) tell you everything. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you ask furiously.

You want to move past him, but he pushes you back, making you bump into the wall. He closes the gap between you in one step, pressing his chest against yours.

"You're mine. You've always been. You shouldn't lead this loser on or give him false hopes. We both know we will end up together."

"I broke up with you." you remind him, not caring about his intimidating attitude.

"A mistake I intend to fix." he says, leaning towards you.

His nose brushes against yours, and you shiver. You lift your leg, trying to kick him in the groyne, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sudden movement and grabs your thigh in a tight grip. If it weren't for the thick layers of material, he would probably leave bruises.

"You... you have nothing to fix. There is no longer us. I don't even know you anymore, Coriolanus."

"Don't." he growls at you angrily. You can see the desperation and madness in his eyes at the fact that you're using his name and that you wrote off your relationship. "It was always you. You were always mine, Y/N, and I was always your Coryo."

"Things are changing quickly. We are not the same, and now we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about."

"We have EVRYTHING to talk about. I still love.."

"DON'T!" you interrupt him. He freezes. You rarely shout, especially at him. That's why he takes a step back before putting on his impassive mask again. "Don't even say that. You have no idea what love is. Sure, you may feel attached and even desire me at some point, but you have no idea of unconditional, true love. So for old time's sake, leave me alone."

"What about you? Do you think you are so holy and blameless? That I'm the only bad guy? You lied to me. You promised you would stay with me, no matter what."

"I promised it to my Coryo. Not to you, Coriolanus. My Coryo died in District 12 with Sejanus—maybe even in the Hunger Games—when you let Dr. Gaul brainwash you in the name of fame, money, and position. You think that old hag didn't tell me why Sejanus is dead? That I don't know that your songbird has disappeared? That I would believe that Highbottom just got high or drank himself to death?" he clenches his jaw and fists at your words. You can see how furious he is, but he holds back, still controlling himself.

"Everything I did, I did for us. For you. For Tigris and Grandma." you laugh, wondering who he's trying to fool—himself, you, or both of you at the same time.

"No. You're doing it for yourself. Only for yourself, Coriolanus." he gets even more angry and pins you to the wall again. His cool blue eyes are raging with rage, and you try hard to push away the feeling of fear he has stirred in you.

"Do you want a reason to hate me? So you and Tigris can still gossip about my madness? Then maybe I should let this old man pursue her and sell her as a wife to one of them for good money."

"KEEP HER OUT OF IT! It's Tigris, Coriolanus! Tigris! The woman whose sacrifice you owe your entire fucking life to! A woman who went out of her way to give your ungrateful, selfish ass something to wear. Who sacrificed the love of her life in the name of maintaining the façade of Snow's wealth?! You can give a damn about me, Sejan, and even that little songbird of yours, but if you fucking ruin the life of your cousin—the only goddamn person who still cares about you—I promise you, in memory of OUR dead friend, that there won't be a fucking hole where you could hide from me."

You stare daggers at each other, both openly expressing your resentment towards the other. You have no idea why he still cares about you—is it because of your money, position, or some sick fantasy he has in his head, or maybe he actually still cares about you?

You don't think about it when a more important issue arises.

Suddenly, he grabs your face in both hands and pulls you towards him, greedily kissing you as he connects your lips after a very long time of separation. He caresses your lips with his and kisses you with such fervour as if he craves you like a hermit starving for water.

And for a moment, you feel like you were with Coryo, when all that mattered to you was the other one, when you could get lost in each other, forgetting about the rest of the world and the worries that were waiting for you.

And that's exactly what he's doing now. He makes you forget about anything but him.

You can't help but moan into his mouth as he presses his body against yours. When he releases his strong grip on your cheeks to grab you around your waist and press you against his body, his leg is between yours.

He kisses you more hungrily, groaning too at the familiar warmth of your body against him and the feeling of your soft, silky skin pressing against him. The scent of your perfume mixes, creating a perfect combination of roses and your favourite flowers. Your hands automatically go to his hair as you hold on to him and press him to you. You don't like the gel on your hands from his hair, but you ignore this new, irritating feeling by biting his lip.

You don't think at all. As well as Coriolanus. You both just kiss each other, your tongues joining, as you both let your desire for one another take control of the situation.

You only come to your senses when your lips break apart. You gasp, trying to breathe again, as he fucks your exposed collarbones with kisses. Your brain comes back to you as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He bites you, making you moan so needily that a wave of shame washes over you with his tongue, soothing the bite. You push him away from you and place your hand on your chest, trying to regain control over yourself.

"See? We belong together. There is no other way, Y/N. We are all we need."

"Bullshit." you gasp, trying to ignore the possessive, smug feeling blooming in your chest when you see his messy hair and your lipstick smeared on his lips. "Since you are that good in losing your memory, then forget about me too."

"I can't. I just can't. You think I haven't tried? That you don't haunt me every damn step I take? Everything I have and everything I know is saturated with you. With the memory of both of us. I forgot about what I had with that songbird and my friendship with Sejanus, but I simply CAN'T forget about you. I haven't spent a single damn day without thinking about you. NOT EVEN ONE. And I know you felt the same way. Do you know why I didn't kill that stupid boy who was clinging to you? Because I knew it would make you hate me even more. I was alone without you at 12, and you know how it ended. You are my conscience. Without you... there's nothing holding me back. Without you, there is nothing to distinguish me from the Hunger Games tributes. I have no borders, mercy, compassion, or anything that makes people human beings. And Gaul knows it. That's why she told you all of my crimes; that's why you're paranoid now that I'm someone completely different. But it's still me. I. Am. Still. Your. Coryo." he says it firmly, taking a step closer to you with each word.

"Don't turn me into a fucking cricket for your Pinocchio. I am not, and I do not want to be your conscience. I will not take part in your lies, games, and manipulations." you say as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to concede to the other in any way.

"I will have you. One way or another, but I will. Even if it is the last thing I do, I will have you by my side. Just where you always belonged. I promised you to be my First Lady. And I intend to keep that promise."

"You must become president first. And believe me, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Maybe you can't forget about me. But I can. I do not need you. I never needed you. How ironic to be able to lose the memories of everyone except the girl who will be the end of you, isn't it, CORIOLANUS?" you mock him, a smirk on your lips, making him a promise.

You walk past him, and this time he lets you go, knowing full well that he won't do anything more with you today. At least he got his kiss and a little taste of you, a reminder of the reward that awaits him when everything finally falls into place. When he finally has you in his arms and is at the top of Panem—his rightful place.

"The game has just begun!" he shouts after you, staring at you as you head towards the bathroom to touch up your ruined makeup. It gives you satisfaction to think that this bastard will probably have to clean himself up after your little make-out session, too.

You think that maybe Gaul was right about the Hunger Games being the whole world. But the reality was that there could only be ONE winner.

And among the people of the Capitol, only you and Coriolanus had a real chance of winning. It has always been like that. And even lost memories that do not want to go away so easily are proof of this.

Part 2

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snowsinterlude · 4 months

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🍒 - fitting room.

summary: your soon to be husband always did his best to keep you happy and pretty for him, once a month he would always take you out to keep you in fashion, even if that was just an excuse to fuck you in a fitting room.

c.w: nsfw, smut, p in v, blowjob (m. recieving), dirty talk, public sex, fitting room sex, almost caught, cum denial, mentions to tit slapping and clit slapping, creampie, breeding, dom snow, sub reader, president snow x soon to be wife reader, sex in public places

being wed to the president of panem had some strange types of luxury that comes with it.

one of them being your wardrobe, full to the brim with clothes he brought to you, he had to build you an entire closet to fit in all the things he got you. jewelry, dresses, everything that he wanted you to wear for him, too. lingerie being the thing he always told you to buy.

so today, once again, you were on another luxury store with him, buying clothes and asking for his opinion on certain clothes, knowing he was glad to help you.

"m'love-" you called him, shyly. he gave the assistant of the store a look that was enough to send her away, and when he entered, he could see your panties on your hands while you wore one of the store's new dress. you were olaying with the fabric of your panties like a timid whore, hands occupied with it.

"what..." he chuckled, not even needing to ask anything when you fluttered your eyes at him, his dick starting to stiff up when you swayed your hips to his direction, arms hugging his waist shyly.

"it's just, you know.. you have been such a good husband to me and our wedding didn't even occur, i thought we could, you know, uh... advance the honeymoon."

ah, it wasn't the first time you guys fucked, but those words were enough for him to kiss you all of a sudden, pinning you on the wall while putting your panties on his pockets.

you did your best to make him happy too, always satisfying him and his dick, pumping him while on your knees, tears welling on your eyes as you licked his tip, kissing it open mouthed.

"don't let any drop fall on the dress, okay?" he growled, and you nodded obediently, the action making your head bob on his cock, earning a chuckle out of his lips.

you pulled away a bit, breathing heavily before giving his balls a small kiss. he slapped your face lightly, putting his entire being into not hurting your pretty face and thanking heavens for you being a whore who liked such dirty things.

"coryo, i.. hn, i want you to cum inside of me." you said, breathless after drooling on his cock, getting it purposefully wet for it to enter your gushing ignored cunt.

"god, you're such a bitch." he chuckled, pulling you to stand up, your legs shaking from being on your knees for longer than you actually remembered being.

with your thigh being held by his hand to spread your legs apart, your hands were holding onto anything in that fitting room that could help you not to fall. your moans were muffled by your own panties, that he had stuffed in his pocket before calling you a whore for making him have to muffle your lewd sounds with your own panties.

"i can't believe you are such a perverted whore, drooling on your own panties while i fuck you senseless." he whispered on your ear, kissing your neck while his skin slapped against yours. "maybe i should fuck some sense into you, don't you think so, bunny?"

his question was ironic, but you still nodded pathetically, a despair he had never seen before on anyone's eyes, your tears probably being the main thing that made him think of that.

then, there was a sudden knock on the fitting room door, which made you panic, but not him, his thrusts could have gotten a bit slower, but your pussy was still gushing around him, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as you moaned against your panties.

"miss snow?" the assistant asked, ear on the door as she tried to hear what was happening inside the fitting room. "miss snow, is everything alright?"

her voice seemed a bit worried, and coriolanus kisses on your neck made you even weaker, his mouth nibbling on your ear.

"be a good girl and answer her. and don't you dare make those slutty sounds of yours." he whipered, taking the panties out of your mouth, you let out a soft sob and breathed in heavily before answering.

"y..yes, it is." you blurted out. "is there.. is there anything 'rong?" you fucked yourself back on his dick while saying those things, his hands grabbing your ass with desire, lust and gluttony, marking his hand prints on your ass.

"no. i just needed to know if your husband was there. it is not allowed to have two people in the same fitting room in the store, i need to follow the rules." she said, and your pussy gripped tightly on his cock, his finger masturbating your clit non stop.

"h-he's not there." you answered, pausing multiple times to try and control your sobs.

"but you called him earlier, miss." she said.

"yeah, only t-to zip up.. m-my dress..!" you said, biting your lip as his hand met your cheek again and again, your lips trembling as you cried a bit.

"oh.. okay, miss! please call me if needed." she said, coriolanus relaxed seeing her shadow disappear on the ground, your mouth being stupidly stuffed with your panties again.

"god, you're a terrible actor, bunny." he said, picking up pace while fucking you deep and fast. "great thing you're such a perfect wife for me."

you mewled into his touches, feeling him slap your butt terribly strong, your skin burning as you moaned. "'m sowwy, love" you said, not taking in the tease, it was too difficult to speak up when there was a pair of panties shoved on your mouth.

he slapped across your boobs, your nipples stinging up while his other thumb rubbed against your over sensitive clit against his skillful hands, his hand slapping and pinching at your clit.

"sorry, coryo, sorry!" you begged, crying eyes closing shut as you felt your climax next and ready to engulf your body, but it didn't.

however, he was the first to cum, breeding you up real nice for him while you kept crying.

"coryo!" you begged, not even needing to say the words for him to know what you wanted, his index and his thumb kept on assaulting your clit, his lips kissing your tears.

"sorry, bunny. you're not gonna cum until we arrive home." and those words were enough for you to cry more, your pussy clenching as he pulled his cock away, leaving your cunt to clench on the air, already missing his cock. "be a good girl, okay? if you complain, you won't be cumming for the next month." he threatened.

he helped you dress your panties again, paying for the dress that was still on your body, your body, that was still stuffed with his cum. you and him walked to home, he only demanded that the chauffeur would leave your shopping bags on your closet.

he made you walk all the way to home with your panties stuffed in cum, but you didn’t and you wouldn't complain. you knew that the best you behaved, the soon you'd be cumming on your shared bed, making a mess on his face and on his cock.

you hugged his arm, biting your lip while day dreaming about how much he'd fuck you when you both arrived home. which he did.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #young coriolanus snow #young president snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas smut #dom coriolanus #sub reader #ask blog #coriolanus smut #smut

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satorena · 5 months

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❝ 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ❞

꒰ FEATURING ! ꒱. g. satoru, f. toji, g. suguru, s. ryomen

꒰ CONTENT WARNINGS ! ꒱. i warn them next to each character name so that’s all covered ! very little plot, in fact the need of piercings isn’t even necessary but wtv :P oh and the reader’s referred to girly pet names and has a vagina.

serena’s note. i’m in due of new piercings i dunno ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ ☆

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔—tongue piercing, blowjob, deepthroating, cum eating

“show it off for me pretty baby—yeahh, just like that,”

you complied to his order, slipping out his dick from your hallowed cheeks, every inch of his shaft coated in your saliva. you gasped as your throat was rid of its fullness, tears streaking down your cheeks and drool pooling at the corner of your mouth.

a string of spit connected from your bottom lip to his rosy tip, blushing an angry red as he leaked salty pre come. your wrist twists as your hands work up and down his dick, the messiness of the situation serving useful as lube.

“c’mon baby—fuck, show me your pretty jewelry, hm?” gojo begs, hand cupping your stained cheek, thumb brushing over your moist skin.

you nod your head, before sticking your tongue out through swollen lips, the silver ball pierced into the muscle now in sight. you lower your head, tongue still lolled out as you grab the base of his cock and slap his tip at it a few times.

you watch gojo unravel at the sight, the coolness of your jewelry sending him to mush. “shittt, fuck yeah baby, need your pretty mouth back on it—suck me off like the good girl you are, hah,” you feel his hand trail from your cheek to the back of your neck, urging you forward back onto his dick.

you opt to tease him, leaning forward and encircling his cock with your tongue, dragging the jewelry all over his sensitive skin, your free hand slowly jerking off inches you weren’t reaching yet.

“mmhm,” you moan at the taste, lifting your gaze to watch the man before you. he’s wincing through gritted teeth, his grip from your nape to your hair in a tight hold, hips twitching up in attempt to get more attention on his throbbing length.

“quit teasin’ me, baby,” gojo groans, hips now raised up to full extent and the clench of your throat restricting around his cock has him moaning pathetically.

tears cloud your vision as his tip reaches the back of your throat, but you work your way up and down his dick, bobbing your head in motions you knew drove him to insanity. you gripped his thighs as support, gagging sounds filling the bedroom mixed in with the melody of gojo’s whines and pleas.

the coolness of your tongue piercing dragging up his veins, in contrast to the warmth of your velvety mouth, plump lips latching at his cock tightly drove him to spiral, his gut coiling and limbs liquifying as he was washed over with pure euphoria.

his hold on your hair tightened and the sting at your scalp had you moaning around his dick, amplifying his pleasure tenfolds. “shit baby—always suckin’ me off so well, fuck, ‘s like you were made to suck dick—my dick—your mouth feels’good, losin’ my mind here—fuckkk!”

your jaw was at its wit’s end, aching as it split open to welcome gojo’s dick with ease. your eyes trailed down as your spit dribbled from his tip to his ballsack, before coming back up to stare at him with an innocent gaze, one that would surely want to fuck your throat on his own accord.

seemed you knew him too well, as he suddenly sits up from the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor, pushing you back to align you perfectly with his dick. his dick slips out your mouth and you cough, gasping for air from the sudden puncture and removal in such a short period of time.

“need to fuck your throat—see you beggin’ for it, with those slutty fuckin’ eyes,” his cerulean eyes darken with lust, a feral look blown in his pupil and you brace yourself for the worst. “don’t you worry—i’ll give you exactly what you want. say ahh~”

still stuck on gasping for air, your jaw already slackened and there shimmers your pretty jewelry—as he rams his dick back into your throat, reaching as far until your body jerks in a deep gag. he’s got one firm hand griping your hair in a ponytail while the other keeps you in place at your nape.

his hips thrust wildly into your mouth, excessive sounds of shlurp! filling the room as your throat restricts around his length, pool of saliva slipping past your lips and staining your thighs.

“atta girl—fuck baby, ‘m gonna cum down your throat—have you gaggin’ and chokin’ on my nut—y’love this nasty shit dontcha—shit!—y’love it when i use you like the cumdump you are, yeah? mmh,”

mouth too full to answer, you allow the roll of your eyes to the back of your head and your muffled moans to do the talking for you. you’d grown painfully wet the entire seance, loving whenever he’d go feral on you with no restraint.

you hallowed your cheeks as his tip rocked back and forth against your tongue piercing, and judging by the pinch in his brows and the contracting of his abdomen muscles, you knew he would be cumming.

“that’s the fuckin’ spirit pretty girl—you better swallow every last drop—yeah, swallow that shit, hnng, milk me for what i’m worth—shit y/n!”

his final act, pushing your head all the way down—till your nose reaches to snowy white pubes, your loudest gag yet as he empties himself down your throat. he keeps you locked in place and your throat tightens around his length, your fingernails digging into his thigh muscles.

when his dick twitches in your mouth uncontrollably, he pulls you off, watching as you cough violently, nasty strings of fluids connecting from your mouth’s entrance to his dick, just how he loved it—sloppy head.

“fuckkk,” he sighs dreamily, grabbing his own cock and tapping the excess drops against your jewelry, now stained white with his cum. your eyes are teary and doed, and he swears you’ve never looked prettier.

“we gotta do that shit again.”

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈—clit piercing, belly bulging, creampie, overstimulation

“you went and got this slutty piercing without me? let another man spread your legs and play with yer pussy and felt no sympathy for toji’s feelings?”

said man held his dick tight in his fist, aligning it with your pussy, right above where your freshly pierced clit was, and rubbed his tip all over your bundle of nerves.

you mewled and cried, your orgasm having just hit you from his mouth alone and he overstimulated you, punishing you for having let another man touch you. your back arched off the mattress and you felt your jaw slacken, mouth into an ‘o’ shape as toji abused your worn out clit.

“n-no, toji please—need your dick inside, mmh, need to feel you inside daddy!” you babble aimlessly, hand sneaking in between your thighs to reach at his cock, stroking it up and down, begging to have it reach places inside you knew would have you seeing stars.

“and just why should i give you what you want?” toji teases you, his free hand swiping your hand away. “my feelings are hurt doll, what tells you you deserve to cum on my dick, hm?”

you shake your head, desperation washing over you as you failed to voice out that not only had it been a girl that pierced, but he was fully aware you were going to get this piercing. toji was messing with you to make you beg, and you would be damned to not reach that peak pleasure over a matter of pride.

“‘m sorry daddy—wasn’t thinking, but i won’t do it again, i swear!” you plead, toes curling as the stimulation on your clit jewelry began heating up pleasure in your gut. you felt yourself lose your composure, “please toji—wanna be fucked like your slut! need to be taught a lesson, was very bad—teach me what happens to disobedient sluts—fuuckkk!”

you cut yourself off as one of your legs are thrown over his broad shoulders and the other wraps around his waist. toji bottoms out inside, leaving you no room to breathe or prepare yourself, before lifting his hips up and roughly slamming them into yours.

your body jerks up to his powerful thrusts, your head pushing up into the headboard as pleasure washes over your limp limbs. you feel his dick stretch your cunt deliciously, the drag of his dick in and out your silky folds sending your mind in a frenzy.

“you wanna be fucked like a slut? i’ll fuck you like a goddamn slut—no cummin till i finish first, that oughta teach ya a fuckin’ lesson,” toji grins beastly, dick all in your guts as he pistons his hips wildly. your breast jiggle to each rough thrusts as you grope on them, eyes rolled to the back of your head.

letting his eyes trail down, he fixates on the way the grinding of his dick at your pussy expands your lower stoa h, the shape of his cock visibly showing through your stomach. he feels an animalistic sense filter through him as your jewelry shimmers back at him, almost insultingly.

he sends a glob of spit at your pussy, landing perfectly at your clit before thumbing at it. you whine out his name, the grip on your breast tightening as your toes curl in his peripheral.

“greedy fuckin’ cunt—suckin’ me in, shit, love it when i dick you down like a whore, ain’t that right mama?” you feel his balls slap at your pussy, thrusts relentless as they bruise and bully at your cervix. you feel his tip kissing your womb and you swear you start seeing double.

“love it daddy,” you nod your head, feeling so full you felt him everywhere. your pussy latched onto his dick greedily, tears at your lash line as you hoped your grip would have him nutting quickly—you already felt your orgasm approaching but he was in a mood tonight.

the sound of your skin clapping one against another played as background noise, your wetness splurting as toji dicked you down, occasional teeth biting at your plush skin. too many different stimulations—from your g-spot being attacked relentlessly to your puffy clit being rubbed on simultaneously—had your tongue loll out in white blinding pleasure.

suddenly grabbing ahold of both your legs, toji pushes the back of your thighs towards your chest, to which you grab onto shakily, “keep em’ spread—fuck up and ‘m leaving you hanging dry, got it?”

you nod your head and when he holds onto the headboard, your voice comes out brokenly as you beg for more and more, his stroke game increasing tenfolds. he fucks into you like he’s got something to prove, occasionally grinding at specific angles that have your pierced clit rubbing at his pubic area.

his brows are cinched, matted hair sticking to his forehead, “shit—gonna cum, have my way with my pussy, mark it dirty and white with my kids. nobody will ever come this close to makin’ you feel this good, you hear me?”

truth be told, you hardly heard him, focusing instead of how your right leg shook excessively whenever he angled his hips at that angle that toyed at your spongey walls deliciously.

“best fuckin’ pussy in the world—all jewelled and pretty for daddy, shit, gonna breed it so good, have you leakin’ and swollen, full of me—y’gonna let me fuck you full, yeah?”

he goes unanswered when instead you cream on his dick, back arching as the dam breaks. you broke his rule, you’re both aware, but he cums with you—deep groan erupting from his chest as he flows his semen deep inside your womb, pulling out of your warm cave to stroke himself off atop your pierced clit, painting your pussy white of him.

“shit—what a slutty cunt, damn near snatched my soul.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔—dermal piercing, backshots, marijuana comsumption

“uhn uhn—don’t you stop princess, remember what i told you?”

you did in fact remember, but your arms ached as you griped tightly onto your sheets, back arched perfectly as you pushed your ass back to meet his hips.

suguru landed a firm blow to your ass, before raising his other hand to his lips, inhaling the blunt deeply before exhaling with a relaxed sigh, at the buzz that ran course in his body intertwining with your pussy enveloping his dick from top to bottom.

your ass recoiled and bounced on his pelvic area mesmerizingly, the two jewels that sat pierced in your lower back sending geto in a frenzy he knew he needed sated before he lost his composure.

the base of his dick was coated with your essence, a creamy pearly ring of slick encircling his shaft as you slide back and forth on his girth. you whined and complained, begging him to have pity on you, but he was satisfied with his things were going.

“can’t handle takin’ charge, even for a little bit? that’s mean baby, i wanna relax too,” he dragged his hand all over the smoothness of your ass, admiring your flesh as it bounced back, speaking to him in a language he felt too familiar with.

“suguru—baby please,” you beg him, tilting your head back and giving him doe eyes, never letting up on your chase to your orgasm. as quick as you attempted to set a pace, it could never match up to the way he fucked you.

the butt of his blunt began dying in his hand with how long he stared at you with red eyes. at the end of the day, you were his girl and whatever you wanted from him you got. he shakes the ash off his blunt before setting it in between his lips, freeing his hands so they can hold at your waist.

“my spoiled princess,” suguru sighs, a faint smile on his lips as he finally allows you the pleasure you searched for, hips pushing up to meet halfway to your bounce.

you moaned at how deep he was, from a single thrust, and you feel yourself melt into your mattress. your skin tacky from sweat, cheeks flushed from the sativa weed coursing through your system, you felt yourself float to cloud nine as your pussy got fucked at a sensual and deep pace.

your pussy fit his cock snuggly, swallowing him greedily and entirely, while he blew out your back. your arms stretched forward and gripped your sheets, releasing your feelings into the tightening of your fists.

toes curling in ultimate pleasure, you feel your soul leaving your body as geto lifts a leg up to the bed and angles his hips. with ease, he finds your golden spot and does you the pleasure of attacking that same area, enthralled by the tremors of your body whenever he pulls out almost entirely just to slam himself back in.

“sugu—yes, oh yes baby—so fuckin’ deep!” you moan, slipping your hand between your thighs to reach at his balls, and you cup them to massage the pair. you hear him whimper behind you, and suddenly the grip on your waist tightens.

geto throws his head back, loose hairs from his messy bun framing his hairline gracefully, “fuckin’ hell pretty, y’got the best pussy in the world—so warm and tight, shit, tryna make cum quick, aren’t ya?”

you whimper at his words, lifting up to your elbows to turn around and catch his gaze once more. backshots were a personal favorite for him ever since you’d gotten your dermals, but you both admittedly missed seeing each other’s facial expressions during sex.

geto spots your siren eyed stare, low lidded from the weed finally settling, and he drags another hit of his blunt into his lungs. he inhales deeply, before killing the blunt on his ash tray, and leans forward to plant his lips onto yours, exhaling the smoke when you part your lips.

the push forward shifts your position, and you exhale the cloud of smoke shakily. with a soft hum, geto kisses the crown of your sweaty head, his tone gentle “good girl.”

now bent over your back, his strokes turn into grinding, his dick reaching even deeper inside as it massages into areas you’d never reach on your own. your arms tremble as your head hangs low, tears building in your lash line from the pleasure built up.

the intimacy of the newfound position mixed with geto’s heavy breathing at your ears, praising you and your pussy for taking him in so well, the substance abuse clouding your senses, the knot in your stomach snaps and you flood the sheets, squirting your liquids all over yourself, him and your bed.

“thereeee we go,” geto encourages you, hips never letting up as they drag you through the highs of euphoria. he keeps fucking into you, eyes narrowed in on the way your jaw slackened and your eyes shut close, pussy pulsating around his cock desperately.

“this dick is all yours baby, cream on it and mark it yours—fuck, keep doin’ that shit, wanna be soaked in your juices—hah, yeah that’s it—there we fuckin’ go.”

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍—nipple piercings, cowgirl riding, degradation, impact play, nipple play

“you’re boring me brat—pick up the pace and quit being lazy cause i ain’t fuckin’ you,”

sukuna rested his head against his hand in an attempt to be perceived as annoyance, all four eyes casted up to your fucked out face. your glossy eyes crossed to the centre of your face as your jaw fell and had your tongue lolled out your mouth.

“is it too much for you?” sukuna mocked, barking a laugh as one of his arms reach for your derrière, roughly slapping the globe, before cupping and jiggling the flesh in his big hand.

you hear words but they hardly register as you bounce up and down his unreasonably big dick. you swear you feel him past your intestines and somewhere near your stomach, your pussy clenching tightly around him as you attempt to fuck yourself for the both of you.

your hands appear small as they hold onto his broad shoulders for stability, your head limp and jerking with each bounce on his lap.

sukuna smirks, two more of his arms coming up to pinch at both of your tits, focusing his attention on the stiff buds that pierced with gold jewelry. he tweaks at the bud, pinches and twists painfully, “i assumed a grown girl able to get her nipples pierced like a filthy whore would also be able to take my dick, but i guess i was wrong.”

you wish you could counter and disagree with his statement, prove him wrong and ride him into a whole new dimension that he’d grip onto the arms of his seat and throw his head back as he emptied loads of his semen inside your tight cunt. unfortunately for you, your thighs ached from over exhaustion as your tits were being fondled aggressively and if his fourth arm continued to thumb at your clit, you’d be cumming yet again on his dick while leaving him high and dry.

“sh—shut the fuck up,” you slur out, eyes narrowing as you try to glare at him, but they shut completely when his hand roughly slaps your cheek, head jerking to the side. shamefully, you let out a moan at the impact, the stinging feeling having your clamp tightly on his cock.

“watch your fuckin’ tone,” sukuna warns you, fingers gripping your jaw as he forces your head down to look at him. your watch him with angry eyes, and it undoubtedly turns him on when you grind your hips back and forth, almost in retaliation.

“or what?” you challenge him back, despite knowing there really wasn’t much in your favour as of now. you enjoyed being bratty because sukuna always handled your attitude correctly.

“or i’ll strap you to this seat and leave your gapin’ pussy untouched, beggin’ to cum while i have you watch me fuck somebody else. you want that?” he growls, eyes boring into yours and you know he’s being serious. you swallow your pride and roll your eyes but nod in understanding, and so he leans back into his seat. “now keep at it—still haven’t came close to cumming, selfish girl.”

in the midst of it all, you ride and hop and bounce on his monstrous cock, feeling your body being split open at the intrusion of his dick penetrating areas you were certain were unhealthy. the pain felt too pleasurable to stop, and so you greedily fucked yourself to chase another orgasm.

leaned back in his throne, he watches you in faux unimpress, lips tugging into a cocky smirk whenever he’d pull at your nipples in a way that had your body jolting. he’d shove his fingers down your throat, have your saliva lube his digits and pull them out to slap and roughly play with your tender tits.

your back arches into his chest, and you feel his tongue peek through his stomach that stretches out to lick at your erogenous zone near your navel. your oversensitive nipples begin to feel numb, and you eagerly grab ahold of the back of sukuna’s head to pull him down closer to your chest.

what could’ve gotten you in deep trouble actually turned out for the better, as sukuna pops one of your nipples in his mouth, wet tongue circling the jewelry and moaning uncharacteristically at the taste. his other arm never ceases to fail to lack attention at your other boob.

“the only impressive thing about you is that rack of yours. all plump and pretty—shit, i hate to admit it but fuckin’ hell—you have no idea how turned on i’m getting from ‘em.”

it’s still fraudkuna 4 life btw.

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