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ilygetou · 8 months

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zoro with a huge cock he doesn't know what to do with it

i shall elaborate. ૮˃̵֊ ˂̵ ა

cw. fem! reader, breeding kink if u squint, inexperienced!virgin! zoro (but it’s not mentioned), zoro lowkey acts like a pervert, solo male masturbation, hand/blowjob, cowgirl position, lots of cum, awkward boners, boob job, facials, creampie and/or breeding, damn this shit kinda long :/

note. this was supposed to be a 500 word thirst but i ended up writing this 2.3k monstrosity. so enjoy!

zoro who’s dick is so big & thick he doesn’t know what to do–every time he’d get a hard-on it’d always end up being awkward cause’ anyone who’d be there present with him would be able to notice it. The baggy clothes he’d be wearing would sometimes help him cover up his ridiculously huge erection but zoro still thinks it wasn’t enough coverage.

And when zoro thought it coudn’t get any worse, you suddenly came in the picture. Making the poor man suffer from even more awkward boners.

When he would be hanging around the crew but suddenly he’d get a sudden flash of your face & then he’d be put into this awkward situation. Having to rush to the nearest bathroom in the sunny to take care of his hardening cock.

The whole time zoro was in the bathroom, he would be letting out frustrated groans, he was stroking his cock in an aggressive manner–throwing his head back in frustration and groaning cause’ he was nowhere near his release. And he wishes you were there with him. Because, come on, you were the reason for all this to being with.

Despite zoro’s huge dick, he had heavy breeder balls that’re filled with his hot sperm <3 And zoro sometimes wishes you were with him right now, so he could empty his balls deep insides your cunt. It’s a real shame you aren’t a member of the straw hats, otherwise, zoro would have you stuffed with his massive cock all the time.

Everytime zoro goes off to jerk off, it’d always end up with him edging himself. He thinks he’s doing something wrong at this point–no matter how fast and rough he would be stroking his shaft, it was nowhere near enough and he would never be able to orgasm. Zoro started thinking that the reasoning for this is his ridiculously huge cock. That has to be the reason.

Every time zoro would finally be close to having sex, the person he’s about to fuck always ends up running away as soon and they see his sheer size. So he has been always insecure about his dick size, he’s supposed to be the greatest swordsman for fucks sake. And here he is worrying about the size of his dick.

Maybe if he had a medium sized dick–he would be able to cum as many times as he wants. But with this big one? Yeah, zoro doesn’t think he’ll be able to know what an orgasm feels like any time soon.

That was until zoro bumped into you coincidentally, you greeted him with a sheepish smile and pulled him into an unexpected hug, the poor man felt his face grow hot,, and suddenly his cock was slowly hardening. Zoro curses under his breath, scolding himself mentally, this was not the right time for this.

You were babbling about things you saw on your journey, all while using hand gestures to explain things, you had a small spark in your eyes and zoro could almost feel bad for ignoring whatever you were saying and instead focusing on the way your tits bounced with every move you made, and his eyes travelled downwards to where your crotch was. Your pussy was covered from the layers of clothes you were wearing.

Zoro couldn’t hide it anymore, his erection was poking his clothes and zoro’s face immediately went pale once he saw you take a glimpse of his hard-on. “Zoro we can continue talking in the sunny if that’s alright with you? ’M just tired of standing” and zoro immediately agreed, thinking you actually just wanted to talk–cause what else would you do? A sweet innocent, angel like you wouldn’t pull anything inappropriate.

Zoro had a confused expression when he saw you enter his room instead of just going to sit in the main area, he had an even more confused expression when he saw you lock the door–leaving you two trapped in his room. And when you made zoro sit on the edge of his bed as you went down on your knees, that’s when zoro completely lost it, finally understanding your true intentions.

His lips curved into a smirk once you started tugging on his baggy pants, “oh?” he chuckles, zoro really wasn’t sure about this. He was worried that you might get scared and leave if you saw his ridiculously large cock. “you sure ya’ wanna do this?” and you looked up at him with pleading doe-eyes, you pulled down your shirt, your tits bouncing from the impact; “mhm, wanna have you cum on my face n’ tits, please?”

Zoro’s breath hitched, completely mesmerized from the view in front of him. You finally tugged down his pants, his cock slapping you in the face–zoro immediately muttered a ‘sorry’ his face already turning red. But you honestly didn’t mind, what shocked you more was how big zoro was, you knew he was going to be big by the way his erection was poking his pants but not this big.

His tip itself was huge, it was mushroom shaped and had a pinkish color to it, his shaft was a very light shade of almond, pre-cum dripping down his base and you couldn’t help but worry if it’ll be able to fit inside your mouth or if it’d be able to go between your tits. While you took your time eyeing it, zoro immediately grew worried & insecure–is it too big? did you not like it? And then zoro thought that what if you won’t be able to make him cum as well? He had so many futile jerking off sessions he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to cum anymore.

Zoro was snapped out of his thoughts when you wrapped your small hands around his dick, you had to use both hands to be able to fully satisfy zoro. You started with his tip, circling your thumb around the head until zoro started groaning from the feeling. Slowly moving down to the base and giving it small strokes using both hands, zoro gripped the sheets of his bed–it was completely different from what does.

Zoro would usually just go straight into it, moving his hands rough and fast to get himself to cum but it never worked. But now that you were the one doing it for him, it felt way better than when he does it alone. You were cradling his cock, kneading the tip gently, moving your hands very gently and slow. It was like you were teasing zoro the difference was that it felt so fucking amazing.

You withdrew your hands and zoro groaned in response, his face was flushed red as he took a quick glance at you, his eyes fluttered shut once he saw you positioning his dick between your breasts. He moaned at the soft feeling of your tits around his cock, swallowing his saliva when you took his tip in your mouth, sucking on the fat head of his cock sloppily.

“A-Ahh–shit–” he murmured, running his hands through his hair as he watched your tits swallow his entire length once you squeezed them together. The tip of his cock remained in your mouth, your tongue was wrapped around it–while you kept sucking on it messily. Drool kept dripping from the side of your chin and coating your tits, you looked up at zoro, his head was thrown back as he gripped the sheets beneath him.

When zoro decided to take a small glimpse of your state right now, he immediately regrets it. His huge tip was bulging in your mouth, a few tears covering your lashline, you were squishing your breasts together as you slightly bounced your body. And now, zoro was letting out low hisses, his thighs trembled, cock twitched, and now he was cumming all over your face and tits.

You looked up at zoro with a shocked expression and a cum covered face and zoro himself was shocked as well. He was trying to process this, is this how am orgasm feels like? ’cause fuck, he’s already addicted to the feeling of it.

You licked off the white stains from your face, you got up and pushed zoro back on his bed. “Can i ride you? Pretty please?” zoro’s eyes widened, face becoming even more flushed that even his ears turned red. “I-uh, Are you sure?” you nodded your head, you just had to prepare yourself before taking his stupidly big cock.

You grabbed zoro’s hands, pulling out his middle and index finger, you placed them above your panties, moving zoro’s hands–causing his fingers to rub your clothed cunt, zoro lets you do as you please, watching in amusement as you used him for your own pleasure. Once you took off your panties, you guided zoro’s fingers to your clit, making him rub it until you were moaning from the feeling.

“I think i g-got it, so let me do it” zoro offers and you immediately agreed, letting go of his hands as zoro’s fingers trailed to where your small hole was. This is where his cock was supposed to go? Holy shit. He pushes in his thick digits & your walls immediately clamped down on them, zoro starts with slow thrusts of his fingers–and you were already dripping on them.

With only a few more thrusts, you were already close, zoro’s fingers were already too thick and fulfilling–you can’t imagine how’d it feel to be fucked by his huge dick instead of his fingers. You grabbed zoro’s hands which startled him, “s-stop, wanna cum on your cock instead, please” zoro raised a brow but obeyed nonetheless, retracting his fingers from your drooling cunt.

You placed your hands on his abs for balance as you positioned yourself on top of zoro’s cock, slowly pushing down, your body quivered, breath caught short as the tip was slowly penetrating you and you could already feel the stretch from just the tip alone. And shortly, his whole length was inside you, you still couldn’t move–trying to adjust his ridiculous size.

And zoro couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted you to move, the warmth of your pussy and the way it was sucking him all the way in felt all too good but he can’t stop thinking about how great it’d feel if you’d just fucking move. He then took ahold of your wrists and thrusted his hips upwards, a scream left you, “w-wait zoro!” you weren’t expecting for zoro to be this inpatient.

He thrusted into you one more time, as tears started covering your lashline–he was stretching you so good right now, particularly splitting you open. “Feels so good, fuck” he sighs, feeling your walls clamp down on him, zoro’s eyes fluttered shut, gripping your waist with both hands as he bounced you up and down his cock.

Zoro traces the outline his cock is leaving on your stomach, was this him inside you? He threw his head back, feeling you clench down on him every time the tip hits your cervix. “You’re so good, so good f’me” he coos, and all you could do was nod in response. Tears streaming down your cheeks as you try and bounce on his cock but ending up as a whimpering mess, leaning on zoro for support.

His cock was deep inside you, a bulge visible on your tummy, his hips were pressed against your ass, and his hands were wrapped around your waist. God, You couldn’t ask for more than this, no, zoro couldn’t ask for more. He already came earlier and fuck, it felt so good.

Everytime zoro would thrust upwards, he would let out a hiss, droopy eye’s looking down at your messy face. “shit, you’re so tight” he’d groan, watching as your body trembles with every thrust, as obscene sounds slipped past your lips.

“z-zoro,” and zoro swears he could cum just by the sound of you calling out his name, “gnna’ cum, so close!” you threw your head back as you gripped zoro’s hair, your eyes rolled back as your whole body quivered— pornographic moans left you as you came all over zoro’s cock.

Zoro brought up a hand to your face, wiping the tears from your cheeks, removing a strand of hair and tugging it behind your ear—zoro then gave you a quick peck on the lips. His hands finding their way around your waist once again.

And it wasn’t long after zoro was also near his climax, zoro pressed a hand to his mouth to soak up the moans he’s struggling to hold in while his other hand still held your waist down. Zoro’s thighs trembled, bucking into you until he was cumming deep inside you, stuffing you to the hilt with his thick, creamy cum.

And after that incident, you were zoro’s personal flashlight. Always having his cum on either your tits, face or inside your mouth or/and cunt. You were always getting fucked by zoro, well this was bound to happen — he finally found someone he could give his cum to.

You couldn’t say that you were used to his size, you’d still always get shocked whenever his cock would basically slap you in the face. Always having to do hours of prep to make it fit. And as always, you’d getting fucked too dumb you’d pass out while zoro was still thrusting into you.

Sometimes he’d get too riled up and would slam his cock into your “too small” cunt without any prep and would finally release you when he has already stuffed you with his cum at least five times. He would sometimes make you walk around with his cum dripping down your legs and would watch from afar as you try to run to the nearest valley to clean yourself up.

Despite being stretched by his cock way too many times, you’d always feel tight for zoro and you’d also always feel like his splitting you open every time.

And you’re not sure if you’re supposed to be happy that you got yourself a dumb boyfriend with a stupidly big cock which he doesn’t know how to use without your help.

#zoro roronoa x reader #one piece x reader #one piece smut #zoro smut #zoro x reader #op smut #op x reader #op zoro #zoro x you

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sabertoothwalrus · 2 months

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There’s something I love love loveeee about Laios and how badly he wants to be cool.

Let me preface with this: in general, I believe the harder you try to be cool, the less cool you actually are. The less you care what people think about you, if you’re “cringe” or “weird”, the more likely people will perceive you as confident and self-assured.

There are countless pieces of media where characters try to fit in with some group, change every part of themself to look/act like what they’re “supposed” to be, and end up miserable, often realizing the people they’re trying to impress aren’t worth the trouble.

I’ve experienced this in my own life too! Sometimes when I go out I wear a rainbow propeller cap! Cause I think it’s funny and silly and!! I ALWAYS get compliments!! I don’t wear it to be cool, I wear it because it makes me happy. And people overall have a positive reaction to it. it’s a huge contrast to when I was teenager and didn’t really put as much of myself into my appearance/wardrobe, and barely left any kind of impression on people.

So anyway, let’s get into it.

Laios… he’s been hurt so badly by people. He resented humanity for it. And yet, he still yearns for the approval of others. He wants FRIENDS!!!! and was angry and frustrated to learn his perception of his relationship with Shuro was so drastically different than Shuro’s!!!!

He KNEW that people were put-off by his love of monsters. Up until Falin got eaten, he deliberately suppressed how much he talked about it with others. He probably thought by not talking about monsters so much, it was working!! He was doing all the Right Things now! So Shuro confessing he always hated him was a huge blow.

But the reality is, he loves monsters. And most importantly, he loves cool monsters. He fantasizes about what would make the Ultimate Monster.

He feels very strongly about what he considers “cool” as well. He finds all aspects of monsters fascinating, but can still be HORRIBLY underwhelmed when they look too lame for his tastes.

He knows most people don’t feel the same way he does. He knows his “cool” is everyone else’s “weird”. It’s so tragically sweet how he latches onto Kabru the moment he shows interest in monsters, and takes every opportunity to infodump about them to him.

He wants people to find monsters as cool as he does!! But, he also wants people to think he’s as cool as he finds monsters.

Like!!! djkfghadkfjg IT DOESN'T EVEN BOTHER HIM WHEN PEOPLE HAVE A WRONG IMPRESSION OF HIM! He's FLATTERED by it. It's almost like, at this point, it doesn't matter to him if people don't like him. People can not like him and still think he's cool.

And my favorite thing is, it works. Laios IS cool as fuck. You KNOW he thought he looked so badass when he did this and he was RIGHT:

And yet, this is him trying very hard to look cool. But it's Laios's version of cool. It's almost contradictory, in that sense. Cause he knows people still don't get it. Like. He wants to be cool. He doesn't care about the "normal" ways to be cool. He thinks his cringe thing is cool. He does his cringe thing, that people very much do still think is cringe. So you would think that, since he wants people to think he's cool, he would not do the cringe thing. But he wore the pelt because he thought it was cool. And people clapped and cheered for him anyway.

is what he's doing really so different than this? ^

YAYYYYY WOOO GO LAIOS YOURE SO COOL!!!!!!!

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #long post #photos #laios touden #I LIKE HIM A LOT!!!!!! HES SUCH A GOOD CHARACTER!!!!!

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strangersteddierthings · 6 months

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Good People

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

Wayne knows eavesdropping isn't the done thing. He's definitely old enough to know better, and he wasn't going to. He had a plan. He was going to walk directly into the living room, so they'd know he was awake, and after he'd fixed his cup of coffee, he'd plopped into his perfectly worn in recliner and subtly glare at the Harrington boy until he squirmed.

Mostly because it amused Wayne, but also just a little sliver of it was because he wanted the Harrington boy to know Wayne didn't think he was good enough for his boy. But only a little! Lord knows that Wayne couldn't do anything to make Eddie change his mind about Steve Harrington, short of Harrington proving Wayne right. Which he doesn't actually want because he doesn't want Eddie hurt.

He's just... He expects it to happen. That's what boys like Harrington do to boys like Eddie. He's seen it enough times to know that this song and dance leave no room for improvisation. Boys like Harrington play around, get their kicks with the devotion Eddie shows them, and then when they've had their fill, they leave.

Boys like Harrington will never be good enough for Eddie, but they always leave with Eddie feeling like he's not enough. Wayne hates it.

Anyway, his plan wasn't to eavesdrop. It's just that Harrington said his name and Wayne found himself standing still instead of continuing.

"Why doesn't Wayne like me?" Harrington asks.

"This again?" Eddie says dismissively, which has Wayne agreeing. His opinion shouldn't have bearing on their friendship.

A deep sigh from Harrington before, "I just. It's- he means so much to you. And, like, I- nevermind. It's stupid. I'm stupid."

"Hey," Eddie sounds a type of serious that Wayne rarely hears from him, "you're not stupid. And you gotta quit fucking saying that. You say it enough and you'll start to believe it and it's not true."

"Hard to quit feeling stupid when people dismiss my concerns like they are stupid," Harrington snaps back, bitchy as can be. The tone makes Wayne bristle on behalf of Eddie. His boy doesn't reply immediately, though. Doesn't bite back like Wayne's used to hearing. Huh. Maybe he's growing up, just a little.

"You're right, Steve," Eddie says when he finally speaks. "That was dismissive. I'm sorry. Explain it to me. Why does it matter to you whether Wayne likes you or not?"

"Well, because he's your family."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, "he is. But that doesn't explain why it matters. I don't care if your parents like me or not."

"That's different!"

"How?" Eddie asks, soft but firm.

"Because their opinion doesn't matter. It's not- It's irrelevant. What they think."

"That makes no sense. Wayne's opinion matters because he's my family, but your parents' opinion doesn't even though they're your family?"

"Yes!"

"But why?" Eddie presses.

"Because they're bad people!" Steve bursts, not quite shouting but close. "Because when bad people don't think highly of you, it's not a fault in you. Their disproval is, like, a compliment. They don't like you because you're too different from them. And that's great! You shouldn't want their approval. It's different, because your uncle is a good person. And when a good person doesn't like you, it is your fault. It's something- it's..." Harrington loses steam here, voice dropping low and defeated, "there's something wrong with me. Something in me that- that he just knows. Senses about me or whatever. Something wrong or rotten or-"

"Steve! That's bullshit. Sure, Wayne's been standoffish, but he'll come around. You're not wrong, or rotten, or whatever else you think you are."

"How do you know that? I was an asshole most of life and what if that's just the real me? What if that's who I'll always be deep down. 'Cause I'm trying so damn hard, man. I'm giving it my all trying to be a better person and it's not enough! Everyone still talks about who I was in high school and even you-" Harrington snaps his mouth closed so hard that Wayne hears the clack of his teeth from his position in the hallway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."

"Steve. This is about more than just my uncle's opinion of you, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"I want you, too. I want to know if I've ever done anything to make you feel like you aren't enough."

Wayne really shouldn't be listening. He should back down the hall and into his room. Give them time to talk.

"No, Eddie, you don't make me feel like- that's not what I meant. I just. I'm...."

"Hey, Stevie, you can tell me."

"I'm just so afraid that... That one day everyone will wake up and realize what Wayne already knows. That I'm not good enough for them. For you."

Oh. Wayne really shouldn't be listening.

"I'll admit that Wayne's opinion is important to me, for a lot of things. But not about you. What I feel about you, how I feel about you, isn't dictated by Wayne."

"Sure. I mean, I know that, like, logically or whatever. But it's. I can't convince my brain that you won't just. Hate me one day. And I- fuck, Eddie, I'm already halfway in love with you and-"

"You're in love with me?" Eddie interrupts, sounding awed, starstruck, and Wayne cannot be listening anymore. He backs down the hall silently and back into his room.

Steve Harrington seems to think that he's a good person, but he's not feeling like a good person at the moment.

He's got some thinking to do.

#steddie #my fic #wayne munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne pov #wayne doesnt like steve and steve cannot accept that #not doing a readmore because its very short.

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bywons · 1 month

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ꔫ GO AHEAD AND CRY, LITTLE GIRL ( enhypen )

⌕ where you cry in their arms

pairing. bf!enhypen x f!reader w.c. 1.05k tw/cw. none really genre. fluff sru's note. requested! help i don't think i did a good job with this one ( CATALOGUE?! )

¤ feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated, PLS REBLOG if u like the fic !

LEE HEESEUNG can feel his heart breaking at the sight, his one and only love, his pretty girl sobbing into her hands in front of him, the cause still unknown. but he doesn't waste any time and pulls you into his embrace, your soft plump cheeks strained with tears pressed to his broad and snug chest, salty tears dampening his beige sweatshirt but that's the last thing that he cares about right now. he shushes you, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other softly stroking your back, in the utmost hope that you'll eventually stop crying. cause every tear that spills out of those pretty eyes of yours, it hammers lee heeseung's heart. would press soft kisses on top of your head until you calm down, along with his hug around you closing in tighter. when you calm down, he'll wipe away all the tears and make you a comforting hot bowl of ramen <3

PARK JONGSEONG drops whatever task he's doing, no matter how trivial or significant, and

rushes to you the second he hears something as slight as a sniffle from you. and even when he's not close enough to be seen or called for, jay is one call away. has the biggest “and i crumble completely when you cry” energy. literally pulls you into his lap the second he sees the smallest drop of tears on your face. rocks both your bodies back and forth while whispering sweet nothings into your ear, his hand simultaneously working and massaging your scalp. he literally doesn't even stop for a second until your sobs have completely died down, and even then he rocks you both back and forth while whispering about your problems, while you rest in his lap with your hands and cheeks pressed against his warm chest. jay still doesn't return to his aborted work and don't you dare ask him about it, cause you're way more important.

SIM JAEYUN puts on the saddest face with the biggest pout, literally becoming a puppy face. caresses your face and cradles it between his hands, eventually wrapping his arms around your waist. gets so worried when he sees you sobbing, at one point he gets insecure of being a bad boyfriend, always thinks he did something wrong. jake would press soft feathery kisses all over your face and right when you give the smallest upward twitch of lips, he'll literally attack you with tickles! jake just wants to hear you laugh and wants joy to stick to you forever. brings layla to you too <//3 so that all three of you can cuddle together while he just rambles random things to your now sleeping figure.

PARK SUNGHOON takes a bit of time to process the scene in front of him when you break into sobs, don't get him wrong but he's just disheartened at the sight of your tear stricken cheeks and red puffy eyes. if he's still foreign to it, it would take him some time to approach you in your sobbing fit but if not he's quick to act. but eventually picks you up and makes you sit in front of him at the edge of the bed. if you don't want to talk it out then he'll pull you closer until your heads’ on his shoulders, his hands creeping up beneath your shirt to draw random doodles on your back while you calm down in his embrace <3 sunghoon definitely kisses your cheeks a lot, until you're giggling from his kisses, and then and only then is he relieved. makes sure to ask what was wrong after.

KIM SEONWOO almost cries along with you, the soft and choked sounds of your sobs and your salty damp cheeks overwhelms him. immediately wraps you in his embrace, practically burying you in it. with glossy eyes, he tries to shush you up with an accompanied series of kisses to your cheeks, forehead and lips. when you're crying away in his arms, he'll play with your hair, braiding them only to untangle them and braid them again. gives you all the comfort in the world; he even brings your favourite plushies— that he won for you at the arcade— to you and wraps you in the warm, thick duvet. he giggles at the cute scenario in front of him, before tackling you in his arms and bombarding your face with soft kisses. definitely eats mint choco with you later.

YANG JUNGWON being the reserved and calm man(leader too) he is, he would hand you a glass of water immediately when he sees streams of tears flow down your cheeks. doesn't waste a second after that, wiping away your tears from your cheeks and pulling you into his embrace, stroking your back in a soft rhythm which makes your eyes flutter close. the smell of his cologne is mellow, which drives your nerves slowly and calms you down in his embrace. jungwon hugs you tighter and presses occasional kisses to your shoulders and forehead, just to let you know he's still here, all ears to listen to whatever's wrong. lays down with you, his head resting still upon his chest, listening to the soft thumps of his heartbeat through his grey sweatshirt while he asks you what's wrong. his caresses don't stop even for a second while he lays with you, listening to your heart.

NISHIKURA RIKI ‘s heart melts when you break down like that, #2 at the “and I crumble completely when you cry” energy, don't ask me why. but our boys’ not nervous at all! he loves his girlfriend dearly and always has a trick up his sleeve whenever the smallest inconvenience comes across. rushes to you and hugs you so tight that at one point you swore you couldn't breathe. that is when riki thankfully lets you off his grip and pulls you closer, until your back is pressed to his chest. now it's time for nishimura riki to pull his trick out! girlfriend 101: when y/n's crying, show her cute cat videos. your have died down soon enough after riki holds his phone before your eyes, a random cat compilation video playing. he doesn't forget his cuddles though, literally becomes plush to you while you both stream cat videos that whole day.

(📌) :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! @euncsace @fleumiu @leaderwon @dimplewonie @yrhome @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @lilacnini nets! @/k-labels

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yesimwriting · 5 months

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omg i’m so happy ur taking young coriolanus requests!! i’d love a oneshot of him falling for reader (whos from the districts) and him trying to deal with it

Summary: Coriolanus has no interest in his assigned tribute beyond her potential assistance in helping him win the Plinth prize...or at the very least, that's what he tells himself.

Warnings: Coriolanus being kind of delusional (in deep denial) and possessive, jealousy, a crush being treated like a terminal illness, Coriolanus trying really hard to talk himself out of said crush by comparing the reader to an animal/pet in his internal thoughts

----

His nails dig into the soft skin of his palm with enough force to leave stinging crescents in their wake. He's too far gone to feel the marks, to know when to relieve pressure to avoid breaking skin.

When the idea of having the best and brightest of the Academy's senior class was initially presented, the concerns about having such prominent members of the Capitol interacting so closely with representatives of the districts was highly contested. Most of the outcry had been from concerned parents--wealthy fathers and overly doting mothers desperately attempting to convince their leaders to not subject their poor, innocent children to that kind of proximity with something considered so other.

After all, those from the districts are closer to animal than man. If an outburst of hatred doesn't result in a Capitol heir's life and potential being cut short, perhaps some sort of disease would take them instead.

Coriolanus had found that part ridiculous. Not the way the tributes were seen, but the level of coddling the Capitol elite were willing to openly mark their children with. There are ways to mentor from a safe distance and there hasn't been public knowledge of a strange and fatal virus running through the districts in some time.

Now that he's here, standing at the zoo's entrance under the cover of night, food that he can't truly afford to waste tucked into the pocket of his coat, he realizes how naive he had been to not head their warnings. He's come down with something, that's the only explanation for the sweat coating his palms and the nervous turning of his stomach.

This infliction is something that you've done to him. Unintentionally, of course--your lack of cut throat nature and maliciousness had been a disappointing discovery at the time--but still true. Why else would he come here to feed you when his family can barely feed themselves?

Coriolanus walks further and further into the zoo until the familiar cage is in view. There are a no peacekeepers inside of the space and less than a hand full patrolling the perimeter. It's late and the games are tomorrow morning, any of the tributes that wanted to cause problems would have done so by now.

It shouldn't matter to him, none of them would turn him away. The mentors weren't explicitly told to stay away which means that the peacekeepers wouldn't bother him. He could always say that he's here to discuss last minute strategy, that the earlier bombing had cut his time short and that Dr. Gaul had given Academy students permission to make up that time if they so wished. But the thought of having less of an audience soothes him slightly.

He stands where he had stood beneath the daylight, near the corner, as far from the other tributes as physically possible. Regret begins to knot his stomach. Everyone's asleep. This will be the most alone together the two of you have ever been. It's also so dark, and you're likely asleep as well. How will he find you? Is it wrong to disturb the last peaceful rest you might ever experience?

The more he thinks, the more an urgency he can't wraps itself tight beneath his bones. The sensation, a likely byproduct of his ailment, makes him wish that there was some way to scratch beneath his skin. Right no longer matters, and neither does his growling stomach that begs him to just eat the food he had taken from the Academy's lunch and disappear back into the night. He needs to see you, to see that--

"You're going to be okay." Your voice, a soft whisper that brings him back to the present.

You're awake, the vague shape of your crouched form resting against one of the artificial rocks. You're also comforting someone with a much larger frame. Something in his chest turns to stone.

Here he is, wandering the Capitol streets in the dead of night, a pocket full of food that he had hidden from his own family for your sake and you're--you're not thinking of him at all.

Maybe his infliction had been more intentional than he thought possible. Your kindness could be a ruse and Coriolanus has heard rumors of your people. Some say that your ancestors practiced spirtual arts in order to enchant others. Perhaps you've bewitched him.

His own naivety burns through his chest. You're supposed to be his. If that's how it is, then he's freeing himself of you and your kind eyes and honey-laced voice. He'll--

"Coriolanus," a surprised, careful sound that's much warmer than your attempts at soothing someone had sounded.

His name forces the pinching feeling in his chest to be replaced by an uneasy warmth that crawls its way up his neck. He's suddenly glad for the darkness.

He follows your silhouette as you quickly push yourself to your feet with no regard for the boy next to you. Your movements are swift yet quiet, and the care behind them keeps him steady. You don't want to wake anyone; you want this to be just you and him.

"You're--" You stand so close to the bars that it'd take nothing at all to reach for you. "You're here." You place a hand on the bars that divide you, fingers curling around the cool metal. "Are you okay?"

The question is laughable. He's at the tribute zoo only a few hours before the games begin because some instinct had made seeing you again feel as important and necessary as breathing.

But you're not asking about that. You're asking about him, about his injuries from the bombing. "I'm fine," he assures you, "A little scraped up from the debris and I did lose consciousness, but I was treated for all injuries."

You're finally close enough for the moonlight to make a difference. He can make out the unruliness of your hair from the way that life has treated you since your reaping, the form of your tattered dress, your facial features and...the long gash that now marks your forehead.

"And I was told that you were as well." Someone in passing had mentioned that the tributes were cleaned up after the bombing. They weren't prioritized or given valuable resources, but they were cleaned up. Injuries were cleaned and dressed to prevent infection from getting in the way of the games.

You frown, tilting your head slightly as if to hide the length of the mark. Something in his chest tightens again, the sensation much more aggressive than before. Your smooth, gentle skin now marred...

His own defensiveness hits him like a physical blow. Coriolanus blames the feeling on familiarity. The desire to keep you in the best condition possible is no different than what someone would feel for a prized pet. You're his tribute, after all.

"It sort of happened after."

Panic seizes at his chest. After. One of the peacekeepers or another tribute had hurt you. "Who?" The coolness of his own voice shocks him.

You angle your head downwards, the motion distinctly dismissive. Coriolanus won't accept that. Who are you to hide something like this from him? After everything he's done for you, don't you trust him? His arm moves forward without his permission, pulling at your arm so that your body shifts closer to the bars. His other hand then slips between the poles and grasps your chin firmly between two fingers.

He tilts your head, giving himself the space needed to examine the entirety of the cut. It stretches down the start of your hairline and stops just short of your eyebrow. Not too long or wide, but the dried blood still smeared on you implies that it's deep.

"Who did this to you?"

His hold on you is steady, but not so tight that you couldn't step away if you wanted to. You hold still as he takes the time to examine the rest of your face for injuries. Your acceptance leaves a metallic taste in his mouth. Coriolanus releases you like you might burn him.

"I don't--" Of course you don't want to tell. Your nobility runs so deep, you don't care what it costs you.

An odd wave of distress washes over him. The night air feels wrong against his skin, too cold for the thin clothing he put on in his hurry to get to you. "You shouldn't alienate your mentor the night before the games."

Your lips pull down into what feels like a pout. You stare at him with wide eyes. "I'm not trying to alienate you." The genuineness of your words knots his stomach. "I--I'm glad that you're here, that you're okay." Usually, sugar coated words from you are enough to crack at his exterior. He's feeling a lot less amicable tonight. "The girl from district 4 was aggravated tonight. I think she wanted to intimidate the other careers into listening to her so she targeted Wovey and I was kind of--around."

Translation: your too-good-for-the-arena heart took over and you inserted yourself in a conflict that had nothing to do with you. "I told you to be careful."

You nod solemnly at the reprimand. Your lips part, but before you can say anything, the sound of your name steals your attention. You turn away from him, keeping one hand on the metal bars. "Yeah?"

"Are you coming back soon?"

The question jabs at him like a thumb finding a bruise. The tribute you were comforting may come from the same district as you, but that means nothing in the grand scheme of things. By morning, your destiny to be rivals in the arena will be sealed. He won't risk anything for you the way Coriolanus is. He'd snap your neck in an instant if it meant going back home. Surely, even you're not kind hearted enough to not see that.

You crane your neck to look back at him, but your body stays angled towards the other tribute. The urge to hold you in place, to bring your attention back to him physically aches. Is your final meeting before the games really going to be cut short because of some other tribute? The look you give him is apologetic enough to make his chest constrict. After all he's done for you.

"I'm talking to my mentor." Your response dislodges something from his chest. "Why don't you check on Wovey? I think that'll help."

The sound of shuffling fills the space, and then that's that. The two of you are as alone as two people like you can be.

"It was nice of you to come here," the admission leaves you carefully, "I-I tried to see what happened to you after, but they brought us back here so quickly, and I--"

"It's alright."

He never expected for you to be at the hospital. The mental image is strange enough as a concept in itself. You, sitting in one of those stiff hospital seats, waiting desperately at his bedside. You, in the same room as his cousin and grandmother, all three of you concerned and co-existing. It doesn't fit, you're not like them. You're district. That's inherently lesser, inherently replaceable no matter the level of your charm or--or appeal.

But if that's reality, than why was your name the first thing that stumbled past his lips when he woke up? Why was his first thought after being discharged about getting back to you? Why does the fact that you were sitting with the male tribute from your district turn his stomach? Why does he now have a personal vendetta against the girl from 4? These can't possibly all be things that someone would feel for a favorite pet, can they?

This train of thought is nauseating, and the last thing he wanted for the final night before the games. "I was worried." You force these words out in a jumble of colliding syllables, like if you didn't pry them out fast enough, they'd never manage to find their way out.

Coriolanus watches you carefully, imprinting the details of the small crease between your eyebrows and your nervous eyes to memory. The look tugs at something dangerously close to fondness. "Then you know how I'lll feel tomorrow." That, in itself, is a confession pulled from him the same way a rotten tooth would be extracted. "How I'll feel until you come back."

You stare at him, eyes wide. "If this is about the prize money the peacekeepers talk about, you're doing a good job."

There's a stiffness to the way you say this, a guarded quality that soothes him more than it should. The thought of him only being invested in you only because of what he can get out of your success displeases you.

It's instinct to want to ease you. It'd be easy, too. All it would take is a comment that implies that he can be here for more than one reason. The response sits at the back of his throat. Is that why he's here?

The natural answer is of course. Why else would he lose sleep? What other reason could he have for risking taking Academy food and exposing his poverty? Something he's rarely willing to do for himself and his own family.

"A person can want more than one thing at the same time."

You can't hold his gaze, eyes cautiously darting downwards. The display of shyness makes things feel a little warmer. It makes him bolder. Coriolanus moves his hand again, letting his fingers cover yours. You don't move away.

"I almost forgot." His free hand makes its way into the pocket of his coat, finding the carefully folded napkin. He's going out of his way to emphasize the casualness of food. The only thing caring about this gesture is that he had thought to come, not the food itself. There's no such thing as scarcity in the Capitol. "Here."

He offers the neatly tied fabric in the gaps between the bars. You don't attempt to take back the hand pressed between the pole and his own palm. You take the gift in your free hand and don't attempt to let go of him until you realize that you won't be able to untie the makeshift parcel with one hand.

You open it slowly, examining the contents of his offering carefully. Two biscuits, a few crackers, a small wedge of cheese, and another baked good that reminds him of a denser, more durable version of cake.

"Thank you," The truth to your gratitude forces something uncomfortable to wedge itself between his ribs.

You don't start eating right away, your head instinctually turning back. He realizes what you're doing almost instantly. "If you're going to share everything I give you, there's not much point in bringing it."

A little harsher than he meant to be out loud. It's not your fault. Your family is large and of a taking care of each other mentality. If there's food for one, there's food for all.

You nod, accepting the criticism the way you usually do. It's a good thing that you're so pliable, that you're eager to keep the usual comfortable atmosphere between the two of you. Sometimes, though, it feels a bit like kicking a puppy.

Carefully, you bring a cracker to your lips, chewing cautiously. Taking anything makes you guilty, another byproduct of your upbringing. Sometimes Coriolanus wonders if all of this would be easier if you were brought up like the majority of district children, more ravenous and unapologetic.

You'd told him about your mother before, a free spirit who works in a textile factory that produces lavish fabrics instead of standard peacekeeper uniforms. Even though the work isn't much different, you spoke about it like it made all the difference. My mother loves beautiful things so much she doesn't even care about who they're for.

That had been the first time he had found himself thinking about your appearance. If your mother's love is reliant on beauty, he realized, then you must have grown up with consistent affection.

You speak of her, of your entire family, in a way that confirms his hypothesis. You've told him stories of the way she hangs up the prettiest fabric she can find to hang up and turn one room into two--a necessity with so many of you living in a set of conjoined apartments.

"You're..."

You trail off, pressing your lips together nervously in a way that he's gotten used to. It usually signifies that you're concerned about being impolite. That's another thing that doesn't fit the district mold, even here you hold onto manners and social cues. Even when you first met him, you had fallen back on habit. He had introduced himself as your mentor and you absentmindedly asked how he was in that way that people do when they run into an acquaintance.

Normally, if he presses or even just prompts you once or twice you'll reveal your initial thoughts. They're rarely what he expects them to be. Instead of responding to the light raise of his eyebrows, you pick up a biscuit before stretching your arm towards him.

"Oh, no I'm--"

"You're hungry." That's what you almost blurted out.

You don't mean anything by it, or, at the very least, not anything beyond the realm of worry. Heat rises up Coriolanus's neck slowly but surely. You know nothing of his world and yet you knew that to have his hunger exposed would be embarrassing. You know that it's not the kind of hunger that comes from missing a meal or two on a particularly busy or chaotic day.

"Don't worry," you tack on, "It's not noticeable unless you know what to look for."

The comment is a little too reassuring, too on the nose. Can you read him that easily? Coriolanus takes the biscuit before he can pick apart your comment any further. The corner of your mouth shifts into an almost smile. You then break apart the wedge of cheese and try to hand him that along with most of your crackers and a piece of the pastry.

"No, I can't take all of that."

You stare at him oddly. "You've been injured," you stretch your hand out again, "You need your strength."

There are several reasons why you need your strength more than he does, but he can't figure out how to insist on that without making it seem like this is a final meal. He doesn't want to give you a chance to see it that way, so he takes the a little less than half of what you're offering. "Compromise."

You nod, accepting his terms. He's unsure who starts it, but the two of you end up sitting in front of each other. You smooth the napkin out in front of you, setting up what's left of your food like a makeshift picnic. "My mother used to take me for picnics."

"Yeah?" There's something about your stories about your life back home that are attention drawing. It's not so much mundane content of life in district 8 and the fact that it still managed to produce someone like you, it's the way you speak. You're expressive and bright.

"Mhm," you finish off your first cracker, "Eight isn't exactly full of nature, but there's this wooded area past the factories and if you know where to go, you'll find this clearing that's practically untouched. She'd go there sometimes on days off when she needed to collect wildflowers to turn into paints and she'd bring who she could...me, my siblings, cousins..."

You pick up a piece of cheese, setting it on a cracker. "Neighbors, sometimes." Your voice wavers in a way that sticks out. Despite an initial tearing up on your first night, you haven't cried or behaved in anyway that indicates that this could be your end. He doesn't want you losing hope now. "Tanner used to go with us."

It's whispered with the intensity of a confession. The boy you came with, the boy you were speaking with--you grew up with him. That's a bond that's not as easily dismissed. That's something strong enough to challenge his connection with you.

Why does it matter? He's earned enough of your trust, you spoke in a way that earned more donations than anyone else. You trust him enough to actually fight in the arena. It--it doesn't matter if you...

"Do you care for him?" The question surprises both of you equally. His own bluntness, the slight edge to his tone...it's too much for a mentor.

"Uh," you sniffle once, "He was a good friend when we were little, our families know each other." An knot so tight it's difficult to stay sitting there twists his stomach. "We're a little less close these days."

If you comforting him during the dead of night, losing sleep during your last chance to rest is your version of less close, Coriolanus doesn't even want to imagine your normal. "You shouldn't expect any loyalty during the games, the second the count down begins, there's no such thing as friendship."

You wipe at your face with the back of your palm. "What makes you so sure?"

Your question isn't a challenge or an attempt to convince him that the boy would never hurt you. You're asking because you're curious, because you want to know his thoughts. "Human nature."

It's more nihilistic than he usually is in front of you, but his patience is wearing thin. The soreness of his body is starting to catch up with him and wasting the little time you have less discussing someone so insignificant is draining.

His annoyance has to stem from how little the other tributes matter to him. That's the only reason he can piece together, especially when his brashness is likely pushing you away.

"Then why can I trust you?"

Another question that you mean. It's not a slight or an attempt to indicate that you're not there yet with him. He didn't come here to cast doubt on the bond he so carefully helped build.

He can't look at you as he speaks, "Because I'm going to do anything I can to get you back."

You nod, your eyes retreating to focus on your lap. "For the prize money, for your school."

He picks at the edge of his biscuit, a few crumbs falling to the ground. "I already told you, I want more than one thing."

That's not exactly what he said...this reiteration of it is more blatant. Heat burns his face. You peak up at him through your lashes.

If you had been born in the Capitol, you would have done well. You're found of civility and social norms despite a lifetime in the Districts and despite only knowing you stained in various levels of grime, he can tell that our features are pleasing. Polished, dressed, and brought up differently, you would have been a regular Capitol darling.

Coriolanus shakes his head once, an attempt to dismiss his thoughts. Why care about what you could have been? Why imagine what you'd be like if you were part of his word?

"You're not going to--to rely on him in the arena." It's framed as a question, but in reality, it's more of a hopeful statement.

You pause, genuinely thinking about your response. "No." You rest a hand on your bent knee, gently scratching at the skin. "Not rely."

The answer isn't concrete enough, but he has no right or reason to say much else. "Don't let your guard down. Not for anyone."

You nod, reaching for what's left of your biscuit, "I won't, I promise."

"Good, I'll be watching and I'll remember when you get back."

Get back. You wipe at your cheek with the back of your palm. "Yeah, when I get back."

The dryness of your voice cracks at him. If you consider yourself defeated before even stepping into the arena, you won't come back to him. For him. For the Plinth prize.

He shoves the thoughts down as deep as they'll go. They don't manage to get very far, crowding his throat in a way that makes it hard to breathe. Coriolanus doesn't trust himself to speak, so instead he slips his hand between the cage's bars. He lets his hand sit there, palm facing upwards in a silent offering.

Coriolanus stares at his arm as a way to prevent himself from taking in your reaction. A beat passes, and then the tips of your fingers are brushing against his before settling against his palm. He squeezes your hand tightly, so tightly he's aware that it's probably uncomfortable, but the prospect of holding you so tightly that you can't vanish is too assuring.

"Do you have to--to go soon?"

He adjusts his hold on you, bending his fingers so that they can rest between yours. The rest of his household is asleep by now, but they'd be able to tell if he spent the night here and that would worry them. It would also make the morning much more complicated...he'd have to shower and change before the games begin in order to hide where he spent the night.

"No," it leaves him before he realizes what he's saying, "I can stay as long as you'd like."

A hint of a smile tugs at your lips, "Good."

That makes something in his chest feels like it's going to burst. He shouldn't care. He should see this open display of clinginess as an inconvenience. And why would he risk getting caught as someone that spent the night on the floor of the zoo when there's nothing left to convince you of?

The answer strikes him so harshly he nearly lets go of you. He didn't just want you to ask him to stay to prove something, he wanted the excuse to stay. He--he wants to be near you...and not in the way that someone wants to spend time with a puppy.

The truth to it is simple. Straightforward. He cares about you.

He can hear that you're speaking, but your words are too distant to mean anything.

"Coriolanus?"

No. No. He--he isn't meant to care about you of all people, to feel these kinds of--No. No, he can't. He's not biologically wired to. And yet, he can't let go of your hand.

"Coriolanus?"

He squeezes your hand even tighter. "You didn't ask me."

"What?"

"The other thing I want, you didn't ask me about it." The words leave him in a rush, an uneasy mess that he needs out.

Confessing turns these kinds of thoughts into reality, an undeniable force that he wishes he could vanish. But maybe if he gets it out, the ache of it will be expelled from him. Maybe he'll finally be able to think about something else that doesn't involve analyzing your every expression like your life depends on it.

"No," your eyes are wide, a deer realizing they're not the only ones at the watering hole, "I-I didn't."

A small part of him is disappointed that you don't take the opportunity to press. You usually do, chatting like you're a regular friend and not his tribute. "I'll tell you anyways." He swallows, gripping your hand like a lifeline. You squeeze back, a silent display of support. "It's you."

Your hand goes slack in his. Coriolanus warns himself that it's best to keep his eyes away from you, to not read any--he breaks, gaze snapping upwards to watch you.

"Me?" Your voice is fragile and impossible to read. You lift your intertwined hands as best you can between the poles that make up the cage. You lean forward, pressing your lips against the back of his palm. Your eyes briefly fall shut.

"I--" You set your intertwined hands back in place. "I think the practical thing to do would be to forget about me." The rejection cuts through him. All he can do is stare. "You know what's going to happen tomorrow."

Your twist your hand in an attempt to steal it back as you push yourself upwards, adjusting so that your weight is on your knees. Coriolanus instinctively shifts forward, grabbing your arm to keep you close. He moves to sit up on his knees. "You're going to come back." You stop trying to push him away. "Do you care about me?"

"You're being unfair," your whisper is harsh, "Even--even if I win, where would that leave us?" He's silent. "I'll be back in a cage and you'll stay on the outside, only this time they won't be in proximity to each other."

You're logical. You're right. And he can't bring himself to care. "Do you care about me?"

"Of course I do," the response is frustrated, exhausted, "I think I might even--" Your mouth clamps shut, eyes briefly leaving him. "I think I love you." You drop head, giving Coriolanus only the slightest glimpse of your now glassy eyes. "But what does that matter?"

The word loosens something in his chest. He gets as close to the bars as physically possible, pulling on your arm in a way that almost makes you fall forward. The new proximity seems to drain any remaining fight from you.

He leans forward, his lips finding yours in the space between metal. It takes you a second to catch up with what's happening, but once you do, you return the display of affection. He pulls your bottom lip between his own before releasing you enough to let you breathe.

"Is this real?" The question takes its time coming out, slow and through pants. If he thought thinking about you before was a type of sickness, then this is something terminal. You nod instinctually, urgingly. "Then we'll find a way." You're both resting your head against the bars. If it wasn't for the invasive metal in the way, you'd be resting against each other. "Just come back to me, and everything else--we'll figure it out."

He can write to you. He can find an excuse to bring you back to him. Maybe another aspect of the games--something that requires victors to visit the Capitol.

You nod, acceptance finally coloring your features as you squeeze his hand. "We'll figure it out."

----

a/n i've gotten so many Coriolanus/thg requests,, pls feel free to keep them coming <3

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

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morganski-19 · 7 months

Text

Steve was doing laundry and making small piles of his and Eddie's clothes. Colored polos and sweaters next to a pile of black band tees and ripped jeans. His and Eddie's styles were so different, each pairing them with their respective social groups, whether they be true or not.

But it's enough to make people surprised when they go out together, surprises people that they could really be friends. Most of the time Steve just brushes it off, but some of the time it gets him thinking.

He doesn't really fit with Eddie, not all the time. Especially in the way he dresses. Eddie is all black with silver chains, the only color coming from his vest or the words on a band T-shirt. Steve, well he's preppy. Wears a lot of colors and comfy clothes. It's different from Eddie, he's different from Eddie.

He's heard what some people say behind their backs. They can't believe that Steve's hanging with the freak or that they can't believe that Eddie's hanging out with some prep. Those he can ignore. But when Eddie introduced him to his band and they made some snide remark about the way he dresses, it hurt a bit deeper. Or when one of the kids offhandedly says Steve and Eddie are so different, it's a surprise that they're so close. He knew they meant it more toward him.

So, Steve picks out a pair of clothes from Eddie's pile. Just to try on, just to see. Is this what people expect when they see someone walking next to Eddie? Is this who he should be?

When he looks in the mirror, he sees himself being someone he's not. Even though this is what he expected, it still hurt. The person looking back at him is what should be with Eddie, not him.

"What are you wearing?" Eddie asks behind him, Steve not even hearing him come home.

"I just wanted to see what it would look like if I wore your clothes, funny right?" He tries to hide how he's feeling with a joke, but it doesn't come out right.

Eddie tilts his head to the side. "You look too much like me. Take it off," he says, a bit offended.

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"What?"

"Is it such a bad thing that I look like you? Don't you wish that I dressed this way?"

Eddie's face falls. "No. Why would I want you to dress like me?"

Steve shrugs, feeling small. "Because everyone always thinks it's weird when they find out we're together. We don't look like we fit. So I thought that if I dressed more like you, it would fit more."

"You're wrong. We do fit, no matter what people say," Eddie walks towards him, taking Steve's face in his hands. "There's more to us than the way we dress."

"Yeah, I know that. Just thought you'd want me to look more like you."

He shakes his head. "I don't. You know why?"

"No."

"It's cause you've lost all you're color, sweetheart. I love your color.""

Steve's heart melts. "Really?"

"Yeah, baby." Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve softly. "Now go change, I want to see your color again."

#they do not need to change the way the dress in order to love each other #i really believe that #also i think eddie would love the way steve dresses #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet #steddie ficlet #hurt/comfort #established relationship

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d6volution · 6 months

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Nascent

Jax/Reader. [Fem alinged reader.]

tags: oral sex, virginity, loss of virginity, established relationships, soft(?) jax, fluff, and smut, jax has a tongue.

Also found on my Ao3 | 2k words.

minors dni.

Jax's gloved fingers tip toed up your side, and you shivered.

"What's wreckin' ya mind dollface, you're bein a little too quiet tonight." You shuffled on the bed before rolling onto your side to face him. "Thinking too much.. I miss home. Being stuck here.. sucks." Jax was silent as you spoke, but a lazy smile was atill present on his lips. "Mnh. Yeeaaahh.. never gets old does it?" Jax laid on his back, hands folded behind his head now.

You took this chance to lay on his chest, nuzzling him a little. He grinned , but before he could say something sly you spoke up instead—

"Jax, I ... think I wanna try it." You mumbled into his chest.

"Mhmm.. try what?" His eyes were closed now. He was clearly relaxing, and your words weren't exactly clicking right now.

"It.. you know.. I just need something to take my mind off of things and—" Jax suddenly sat up , his chest bumping into your nose. His hands were on your shoulders, steading you. "You're not messin' with me, are ya? I'd like to think I've been really respectful of your boundaries lately, ya know." It sounded like he didn't believe you, but he was trying his hardest not to sound like an ass. He got a few gropes in here and there but never pushed you farther than you wanted to go.

"I'm.. serious. We'll just take it slow.." You said and felt your cheeks growing warm at the thought of being intimate with him. You've thought about it a lot but always chickened out.

"I dunno toots, I'm not sure I could hold bac—..." His hand was gliding up your back, but you shot him a look and he chuckled. Raising his hands in his defense. "Alright, alright slow it is.." After all he doesn't have to move fast to drive you crazy anyways.

"W.. Well how do we.. start? It's.. not like I can make out you.. I think." Right, you guys always exchange nuzzles instead. But Jax rolls his eyes and adjusts himself on the bed, "Just lay back will ya? I'll lead the way."

You swallowed and did like he said, falling to the plush of your bed and you felt his hands on your legs. Spreading them apart , you were resisting a little and he paused. "C'mon , I said I'd be gentle and I will babe. Scouts honor." He crossed his heart before grinning down at your nervous form.

"S.. Sorry, I haven't even been this far in the real world no less the digital.." You said embarrassed by your lack of experience. Hoping Jax wouldn't tease you too badly, but he seemed to be taking your feelings into consideration.

"Digital or not , I'm glad ya happened to save yourself for me. Now let me show you how much I appreciate that.. yeah?" He removed your lower clothing and the cold air hitting your skin caused you to shiver. You swore you saw his eyes grow dark for a moment but you didn't have a chance to analyze his expression too much before he yanked you a little by your ankles down the bed and closer to him. "Eep..!" His head was in between your legs now, and you felt something wet running along your thighs, "Jax !?"

"Mmn? I'm in the middle of something doll—"

"I.. Is that your ..tongue..!?" You cut him off and he chuckled you could feel his breath against your skin but he didn't answer. Continuing his assault on your thighs until the wet muscle finally found your folds and you stiffened up, trying to move away from the strange and new sensation but his hands pulled you back gently. "Mnh.. listen , babe. Ya gotta let me know if I'm doin' somethin' wrong alright?" He lifted his head, leaving your cunt clenching and aching for more.

"N.. No, I..I'm sorry I was just surprised— I didn't know you could.. it doesn't matter just continue.. please." You turned your head to the side, avoiding his intense eye contact.

"Before that, give me a word. So....ya know. I'll know when to stop," He said , still admiring your more vulnerable position right now.

"Uh.." You can't think, your mind clouded by the ever growing lust bubbling in your core. "I.. I don't know.. uh, circus!"

He scoffed, clearly amused. "How original."

"Ha. Ha. I can't really think right now, Jax– aahh..!" Your hips bucked as his tongue flicked against that sensitive bean hidden between your folds. Oh, he liked that noise. A little too much, and now he needed more. And he a knew a trick that would keep you singing so sweetly for him.

He licked and flicked at your clit before flatting his long tongue against you dragging his tongue agonizingly slow along your puffy cunt before pulling back, maybe because your thighs were crushing his head now. "Look toots, I know I'm rockin your world here but ya gotta keep those legs open for me yeah?" He said in a somewhat strained voice, prying your legs apart again.

You nodded, your eyes glossy with tears. You were so needy in this moment that you'd do anything he'd ask. "Close 'em again and I'll stop, how about that for a little motivation.~" His voice was playful but, you knew he was serious and that made your insides twist a little.

"Th.. That isn't fair Jax..!" You whined and kept your legs spread even so, though they trembled and you felt even more exposed keeping them open yourself rather him holding them apart.

"Pleaaasee. To be honest, I think it's perfectly fair. You told me to take slow, not that I couldn't be a little mean.. isn't that what ya love about me after all?" He said in a breathy tone, before his eyes were on your cunt again.

"You're gorgeous ya know that? Don't.. tell anyone I said that. Compliments are like currency here." He said with a tad bit of annoyance lacing his tone, "I only wanna spend that on you .." He muttered before lowering himself to go down on you again.

But this time, he was purposely being more attentive. His tongue even diving into your cunt, wiggling its way into your tight hole. And a thick finger sliding inside, you yelped and your legs threatned to close around his head but you forced to yourself to hold your trembling thighs apart. Having his finger to clench down on made it easier to cause friction and push you closer to climax.

Tears spilled over your cheeks from the stimulation and frustration.

"Mmn... mmf.." Jax moaned against your sopping wet cunt, removing his finger and using his tongue instead.. thrusting it in and out of your hole. His lidded eyes bored into your skull, you looked delicious to him when you cried.

You couldn't take it, your body jolted and legs locked around his head as you came. Soiling his face in the process. "Hh.. Hhaa..! Damn it.."

Jax tutted as he lifted his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ya didn't keep your legs open at the end there.. Hm, I'm not sure I should let you get away with that." The tone of his voice was playful. He grins, that shit eating grin while staring at you as he climbed atop your quivering body. You were clearly still coming down from your high.

"H..Huh..? Jax.. I couldn't help it.." You sighed, chest heaving up and down. "Please.." You reached out for his hand and he allowed you, still speaking as his gloved thumb rubbed the back of your hand gently.

"Yeah, yeah of course you couldn't.. .I'm good at what I do after all," He said and kneeled in front of your spread legs. "But, we can agree ya need just a little punishment right?" He took your intertwined hands and locked them atop your head, leaving you a little exposed and vulnerable to his touch.

Pulling his cock from his overalls with the opposite hands, he started stroking it slowly. "But, I'll be gentle like ya said.." He gives a wink before leaning down and nuzzling the side of your face reassuringly. It's all apart of the bit, "You ready for this?" He whispered, making sure you were okay to move forward.

You were soaked between your legs. More than ready but still a little nervous. "Ready.." You agreed quietly, the tension in the air was palpable.

You should be relaxed after his reassurance, but the size of his cock resting in his hand was making your body tense and cunt clench around nothing.. in both anticipation and a dash of fear.

He rubbed the thick tip against your sopping wet hole, and dragged it against your clit, teasing you. "Gentle.. yeeah... mn.." He muttered, getting lost in this bit of pleasure. "So good for me.."

Gentle. Slow. Teasing.

Fuck, you couldn't take it. He had to be grinding against your cunt for two minutes straight now.

"Jax..please..please just put it in.."

"Mmn. Don't worryy.. I'll take of care ya, make you feel reeaal good.." "He said and let go of your hands as he focused on lining himself up with your hole, his tip nudged at your tight hole. Slipping a few times when he tried to push forward, "Too fuckin' tight doll, hold on yeah..? Your cute cunt seems to need some convincing.." He thrusted forward rather hard, a few inches finally pushing past the resistance in your cunt.

"Jax..!" You yelped in pain, a burning sensation was felt in between your legs and he shushed you, staying completely still. "Hey, hey.. I've got ya, I'm right here.. breathe doll." He said and watched your expressions.. so determined to take him, yet so vulnerable. It made him throb inside of you.

After a several seconds you finally spoke. "Y.. You can move now.."

He was trying so hard to hold back, it's been forever since he was buried in a pussy. So once you gave him the okay he began to move, albeit slow. More inches sunk into your wet hole. Causing your back to arch a little, "Nngh..." Jax was grunting in your ear until he finally bottomed out inside of you, "There we go, nice and deep in there... ya feel that? Feel me?" He said as his hand traced your stomach just long your belly button.

"So big .. Jax.. feels good.." You panted out, unintentionally bucking your hips forward. "Mmn.. I know doll, Im gonna move alright..?" He said and you nodded, arms around his neck now as he started to slide in and out of you, lewd squishing noises and soft moans and grunts filled the room. You were both lost in the pleasure, your body relaxing more and Jax becoming a bit more rough.

"Yeah.. nngh.. ju-just like that ... take it .." He panted out, taking one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder, his hips were a blur now but your expressions and cries of pleasure was all the reassurance he needed to keep drilling into your cunt.

Your mind felt cloudly with lust, but that unmistakable knot in your stomach was only getting tighter, threatening to burst. He could feel you, and took this opportunity to draw gentle circles along your clit, "T.. There ya go.. wanna come for me, c'mon.." He egged you on , rolling his hips deep into your cunt. His full weight accompanied each hard thrust.

You tried to hold on , but he knew how to hit every sensitive spot. Over and over. His hips slapping against yours , the sound of your bodies colliding rung in your ears.

"Ffuuahh Jax, gonna co.. come .. gonna..!!" You whined, nails digging into his back as you held him close. Cunt clamping down on his size hard. His own hips stuttered, "D..Damn it, doll.. ya tryna milk me or something..?" He sighed as he spilled into your cunt, unable to resist the way you clamped down onto him.

He gave a few more shallow thrust, forcing back in the cum that threatned to spill out. "You're perfect.." He sighed out, clearly spent and slowly pulling out of your twitching hole.

"Mmn.. thank you Jax, for this.." You kissed his cheek and out of all things, that seemed to make him flush a little.

"Don't sweat it.. let's," He cleared his throat, "Get you cleaned up alright.. I'll run a bath,"

"Can't we cuddle for a bit first..?"

Jax froze and rubbed his neck, "Look toots, I'm not sure about gettin all cuddled up on cum stained sheets," He rose his hands, "Hey, but if thats what you're into I'm not one to kinksh– oof." You tossed a pillow at his face, and he chuckled.

"Heh, like I thought, now let's get all cleaned up first, then I'll cuddle all you'd like doll.

"Sound like a deal?"

#the amazing digital circus #jax tadc #jax x reader #jaxsmut #minors dni #jax the amazing digital circus

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kalims · 10 months

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ㅤhere is my husband

premise. just us casually staking a claim on our non-official husbands (for coupons)

featuring. all characters

content. alignment, fluff

ㅤthe flustered over thinkers

one who's unbearably confused because he doesn't recall a marriage taking place to wed the two of you at all, he's a little concerned though. he's sure he'd remember such an event? anything with the two of you is practically unforgettable to the fact that when he's in bed only thing he thinks about is you, and the lingering anticipation that he'll see you again in the morning.

besides this said... eventful morning. where you've both apparently upgraded in relationship without his knowledge he can say that he's struggling to hide his steaming ears, hoping you won't notice if he brings the cup of coffee to his face so the steam seems like it's from there.

confused? flustered? thanks for the input! here's your boyfriend husband. doesn't even ask you to explain even though he's twitching to ask you cause if he knows you then you're almost always up to no good, maybe this is one of your tricks but he won't try just for the thought that you're still 'married.' all marriage related things, even the color white is sending his mind into overwire :)

— | riddle, jack, deuce, azul, epel, silver

ㅤwe love flirts

ah yes, if we've got the flustered, confused husbands we also need to get our resident flirts who just gives you a side glance and plays along like he knows what game you're playing. absolutely no questions at all because you know he's gonna bring up the topic sooner or later with a tease, he just feels like he has to return the fluster you'd admittedly inflicted on him. (which is apparently by proclaiming you're both married now.)

don't be surprised if you're getting private messages online, or just random people coming up to you asking how you're married in... this golden age, was that even legal there? you're not sure but maybe because everyone was kind of casual about it.

doesn't matter whether you say you're just messing with him. oh, you're done? good for you but he isn't. he's calling you his spouse everywhere, a local restaurant, shop, stall. wherever you say, he claims he's just doing what you asked for the coupons but you've got an inkling he's just got a knack for calling you his lawfully wedded partner.

— | trey, cater, jade, rook, lilia, leona (partly), vil

ㅤlegally in denial

we have the awkward ones who partially accept their fates, the flirts who's living purpose is to get a rise of warmth in your face, and we have the legally in denial ones whom are trying so hard to deny everything you do. you guys are dating?! oh my god... you must be being threatened to do this, where's the culprit?! news flash, there isn't any but even when it's so clear they seem to find every single reason to convince themselves that there's something wrong.

like, please accept our love already. you already called them your husband in broad daylight, is that not enough of proof? what do you mean you're probably gonna divorce him... he doesn't mention the fact of you guys never marrying at all, just jumps in divorce...

sometimes you should punch a man for his self esteem, it must be a struggle trying to convince someone you like, that you indeed like them. crazy, right? he can't take this heart stopping gesture he's watched too many times but will gladly arrange a wedding in minecraft. just tell him you guys got married ever since he put his bed next to yours if he asks since when.

— | idia on his own

ㅤairheads who are simps

the classic group of guys, of which they all are just incredibly down bad for the lead who just so happens to be you! <4 in this case they're so in love that they wouldn't even question anything you say even if you mix up murder and a name in the same sentence! if you trip? oh no, no. it's clearly the fault of the ground, not to worry! he'll even get workers to reconstruct the entire thing.

and yes, he's either rich or has enough influence (if not through intimidation.) anyways, if they're mad because of a horrible day just walk in a room and then the dark cloud over their heads just floats away and is replaced by hearts in their eyes.

a prank? oh you're funny. what ever do you mean? you're both clearly married. he's got the papers right here *materializes one.* where did that even come from?! say it once, now you've planted something that won't go away in their heads and it's going to shift to reality one way or another :)

— | kalim, floyd, malleus, rook.

ㅤchill mister tsunderes

takes a deep breath* screeches* yeah that's pretty much it. the people (possibly pertaining to just one person, cause he almost always needs his own category.) who try to refuse your existing even if you just cough. keyword: try because even if you're dating them they're still struggling to wrap their head around the fact that they are dating you so maybe their coping mechanism is just refusing to admit you make their hearts go boom boom??

is completely torn whether to screech again (preferably not in his mind to release that pent up... feeling. some type of fluster that makes him wonder if he should have brought a pillow to yell into.) or just reject what you just said. somehow his mouth just doesn't cooperate and he has to look away from you because he's actually struggling to keep his sanity together.

giving himself pep talk, the fortitude that 'he doesn't like you', trying to rebuild that wall back up again but he learns that he apparently can't take it when you're both referred to a life bounded vow. not as in he despises is, though he believes he is. but rather because he'll probably combust on the spot by the sheer claim being said out loud.

— | main: sebek, leona, ace

ㅤdem smug bastards

the ones who just can't resist to crack a smirk when you casually introduce him as your husband, no wonder you insisted he wore the promise ring you had given him.. just to show him off? consider him impressed! this might be just one of his favorite memento of your shenanigans. either he already knows what you're up do (leona) or he's just enjoying the remnants of your embarrassed face as he plummets you with endless grins and teases (floyd)

he's your husband...? I mean true but you're mainly his spouse :) should you even regret having done anything in the first place for the coupons? don't ever. anything should be done for the discounts, even if your supposed husband starts parading everywhere and uses every opportunity that appears in random conversations or situations to just casually announce your lawfully wedded marriage.

what do you mean you're not married? I mean he's got all the evidence in his phone, you didn't think he'd pass up the opportunity to record you saying that phrase for nothing did you? it's a great moment to remember, especially when it's in the middle of the night and he can't help but pull up that recording just to listen to it on loop like an idiot.

— | leona, floyd, ruggie, jade?, lilia (perhaps, vil (also questionable)

ㅤwho are you talking to rn?

those who look embarrassed but you're betting most on your money that he's just awfully flustered + doesn't like the feeling just guessing from him avoiding your eyes like you're the entity from bird box. does he really think his hood can cover the entirety of his red ears? they're fooling absolutely no one with that fake cough, only thing you heard was the quiet choke when they processed your words.

tries to play it off by 'composing' themselves in front of you, even though their back is turned to you. the straightening of their shoulder usually implies that they think they're ready but you can't help but note that several parts of their body, if not all, collectively flinch at the sight of you. they dont say anything but they give you this... look.

like, narrowed eyes, their jaw is slightly turned away from you, *judges whole existence with a side eye* they can't believe they even have you as a partner but besides that they can't wrap their heads around the fact that such a stupid notion such as that actually had him doing cartwheels inside his head.

— | jamil deserves this, ruggie, jack, azul

ㅤwym didn't we already get married?

YOUR HONOR ITS THIS ONE. you're probably making him more confused than you are. because?? cue confused face. didn't you guys already get married like, a month ago? do you not see the ring on your finger? the matching one on his own finger? did you really not notice anything when he just casually takes you to the most ethereal, sacred place of briar valley and hands you the box containing the ring...? has he done it too subtly? well, he's underestimated humans once again...

to fae culture that was probably the most obvious thing ever. he didn't outright just decide he wanted to marry you, but you've probably done something that borders on a 'let's get married' proposal in his culture so that just prompted him to get to work ASAP, get his workers find the most grandest ring there is in his family heirloom.

if you take it. that just meant you're both FOR LIFERSSSSS. HENCE WHY HES SO CONFUSED WHEN YOU'RE CONFUSED THAT HES ACTING LIKE ITS NORMAL. I mean he's happy that you finally decided to call him his rightful title after a month but why are you so flabbergasted, child of man? what do you mean you're not married? just look at said sacred, ethereal place in briar valley. both your names are engraved there together, that's enough proof isn't it?

— | malleus

bonus <4

ㅤthe actual partner in crime

want to take it up a notch? just call the resident creator of forged documents, this is totally legal and free! just get on his good side and he will remain there forever, unchanging cause he loves you now. unless you somehow wrong him... it's actually very beneficial because he can do nearly anything for you without trouble so... wow you're married? why didn't you invite him :( oh you're not but you want to be? oh that's totally fine!

oh you want his help? he can't go against the law because of his coding system but.. it also says to help friends whenever he can and you're his best friend so :)) *casually prints out paper* don't worry he'll talk to some friends and it will be legal before you know it!

knowing his brother he's probably authorized to break the law so he had to code it himself before he gets too far... anyways congrats on your actual marriage 😊

— | ortho

note. this is a commissioned piece, do not post this anywhere else

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evilminji · 2 months

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Okay, but... now I'm wondering >.>

@the-witchhunter We talked about Danny being Morningstar's feral, probably engineering oils and ectoplasmic goo covered, mad scientist/himbo hybrid (attack) purse dog. His special lil guy.

But!

I seek your Knowledge(TM).

From second hand accounts? He seems to HATE the hypocrisy. The blaming HIM for humanity's own choices. The rat race and endless song n dance of "Righteous Good VS. Cartoonish Evil". Because it let's humanity paint themselves the helpless victims. Because it's all surface level. Because it is not so easy to escape the ugliness of your Sins, yet they keep trying to scapegoat him.

Fuck um.

He was tired of it.

But? He still has CONSIDERABLE POWER. It's probably written down. And the Ring Of Rage? Is proooobably not the loveliest of artifacts? I imagine, like the Crown, it's NOT leaving Danny alone. One of those "we don't CARE if there is no throne left to sit upon, you WILL wear us, as King" sort of systems.

It genuinely would not and DOES NOT matter, if not a single soul in all the Zone bows to him. Did he defeat the previous holder of their Right To Rulership? Yes or No.

If No, fuck off.

If Yes, new monarch.

Is it hurting him? Not the rings problem. Nor the Crown's. Heavy is the weight, etc etc. But! DANNY would certainly care. He is... is ANGRY all the time now. Has no idea who would even MAKE this bullshit ring. Why JUST Rage? Yeah, it makes ghosts stronger, but at what COST?

He can't even get rid of it!

......by himself.

Luckily, he's still clear headed enough to know that he's NOT in this by himself. And it's amazing what "mom, dad, this ring is trying to drive me insane. Help me" in a terrified and tearful voice, can brush over. No one threatens their baby and all that.

It would honestly be hilarious, seeing the extended Fenton clan decend like LOCUSTS on Pariahs Keep, searching for clues, terrifying the local ghosts, if... if he wasn't so tired.

God he's so tired.

It's Aunt Alecia who... "politely encourages" a passing scholar to lend them the book they need. Took the poor sucker right out of the sky. Guy never stood a chance. RIP.

He learns he has to head..... over? Like... 27 that-ish way, then up. Huh. 27 WHAT?

Realities, apparently. He's in the wrong bundle. Branch? Neighborhood? Eh. Clan Fenton rolls back out, he packs his bags, and hilariously enough? Goes off to the devils night club. Hopes he likes rings. Or hates them.

Thankfully, being "king" means the Zone? Kinda... humors him? Like... it still has RULES(tm). He can... can FEEL that now. But it's willing to bend some for him, if he asks. And anything NOT against the rules? If it's in the right mood? He need only ask. It's weird. Being suddenly so powerful, yet NOT, at the same time.

Cause none of it's his.

All he has is the Zone's attention. The ability to ask pretty please. If you don't mind. And then? The highways between... ALL will just? Shift and change for him. He can see how it went to Pariah's head. The Zone is pretty agreeable. Is by nature Amoral, cause it's not a Being, it's... well, it's the Zone.

And everyone wants him to ask things. Do things. Demand this or that. Use this power.

Maybe he doesn't WANT too! Maybe he didn't WANT to be king! Doesn't he have the right to say NO? To refuse? Why do they think he OWES them service? An eternity of politics and people trying to kill him, for something he never wanted in the FIRST PLACE.

He's so tired.

The nightclub's pretty cool.

So he comes to ask, politely of course, cause the guy's probably busy, if Morningstar could... dunno, fix or destroy it? Want a ring, maybe? Also he heard you MADE the stars. Huge fan of all of that. Can I ask about the process? Or are you in the middle of something?

And? Lucifer? Turns around, from where he's Leaning Seductive Yet Elegantly(tm) to see... scrawny. Tiny corpse child. No... half? Corpse? Alive. Dying. Alive yet dying. Huh. Well, that is different. And here he didn't think he'd get see anything NEW. You, child, are NOT a zombie. What are you?

Halfa.

I have no idea what that is. What do you want?

He gets shown the ugliest, crudest, peice of shit ring imaginable. A genuine foul little curse. Really stinks up the place. He destroys it, obviously. This club has STANDARDS. Hope that wasn't important?

Kid just smiles the biggest fangy lil grin. No. No it was not.

Obvious, lie, but cute lil teeth. He'll allow it.

He gets dragged into talking about the stars. And talking. And talking. Mostly bragging and explaining. Kid hangs off his every word. Follows him around as he makes his rounds. Asks good questions. Completely focused, dispite the booze and barely dressed dancing all around him.

Lucifer can't help notice the crown.

Lovely little thing. Space ice and star dust, glittering like jewels and light catching the mist. If he remembers right... that one iiiiiis..... not Limbo, it's.... Zone! That crown is the Zone, it changes to suit the wearer. He recognizes the vibe. Awfully young, aren't you?

And.... it all burst forth. He didn't even need to press. Use persuasive words and honeyed tones. Like an inflamed, festering wound. The merest brush is enough to spill everything.

Negligence, greed, blood lust. Bigotry and xenophobia. A tyrants endless quest for power. Ah, humans. They truly don't change do they? Realities away, dead or alive. Now they're harrasing a child. He honestly looks miserable. Whereas just a moment before, listening to Lucifer talk about his work on the stars, his soul practically GLOWED with light. A tiny little star unto himself.

.......maybe it's the big ol "I'm you BIGGEST FAN" eyes. The sad wet cat aura. Perhaps the scrawny "could snap you like a twig" teenager, all elbows and knees. The fact he is, in fact, NOT human; for all that he once was. But?? The kid? Is... not terrible company.

He'd even go so far as to say? It's like having a pet intern.

He can sleep on the couch.

Tell you what, you stay here? I'll keep taking about stars and YOU can do the chores I don't feel like doing. I'll take care of you and all that.

And Danny? Honestly was sold at the word "stars" but? This sounds like a phenomenally terrible idea... and he has yet to meet one of THOSE he hasn't made out sloppy still with, so deal! But as a minor, that DOES make you his new gaurdian for the next four-ish years. He's legally obligated to finish schooling.

Ah.

.....well shit.

(Just? Local stressed 14-15 year old Ghost King does RESPONSIBILE thing and finds Adultier Adult. With more qualified Adult powers. Unfortunately for everyone, the adult is Lucifer Morningstar, night club owner. Even MORE Unfortunately, said ghost kind has pack bonded with the Nice Star Man, who saved him from the Bad Ring, and effectively offered to let him crash on his swanky couchs.

Now Morningstar has to? Somewhat VAGUELY pretend he gives a shit local schooling system, as he puts his charge INTO it. Actively giving waking terrors to the magical community. What evil plot is afoot? Where did he get this tiny minor death god? What is his end goal FOR said child?

No one knooooows~

But Lucifer is just doing this cause he's a Being of his word. He hates the tedious minor chores he'll be foisting off onto Danny. And? Most importantly? Look at that face. *shoujo sparkly eyes of Star Sempai Noticed Me!* it's like having a golden retriever puppy. Ffs he has STANDARDS.)

(It'd be hilarious to watch the hostile 5th dimensional chess DC characters have going on in the background, all while? Danny is like? Man! Isn't this universe GREAT? Everyone here is so CHILL! And nice to me! I'm so relaxed now! Finally, I can finish my education in peace.)

@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #tw wounds #but only as euphemism for emotional state

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the-original-skipps · 7 months

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If you know what this picture is you’ll know what this is about

spy!scaramouche when he leaves for "work" he disappears for a couple of days only to reappear again without notice. You could just have gotten back from your job, only to see your boyfriend dressed casually lounging on the couch in your living room. "Oh, you're back." He says nonchalantly to you without looking up from his phone.

"I can say the same thing about you."

spy!scaramouche who moves around without any sound. He often surprises you by suddenly appearing behind you, as if he teleports. He does it on purpose so he can see your startled face. Your reaction is too cute. He can't help himself.

spy!scaramouche who may have installed cameras throughout your shared home. Due to his occupation he's gotta be careful of who might come after him or even you. He can also make sure you're safe when he's away. He installed them for purely security purposes; he's not a "pervert" or so he claims but sometimes he just likes to see what you're up to.

spy!scaramouche who is essentially like your bodyguard. A trip to the supermarket? Just wanna grab a drink at the cafe? He's going with you, it doesn't matter how small the errand is. He complains but he still goes along with you, even though you didn't even ask him too.

spy!scaramouche who may or not have installed location tracking on your phone. What? He's gotta keep you safe, what you don't know won't hurt you. One day, he just strolls in casually at the cafe you're sitting at and you wonder how he managed to find you.

“What? It’s just a coincidence.”

spy!scaramouche has a lot of weapons hidden in your home. Just don't go looking in the wrong place or else you might find a sniper rifle. He's gonna have a hard time coming up with an excuse for that.

spy!scaramouche secretly knows all about the people you’re associated with not just that he seems to know quite a few things about everyone. A man bumps into you causing you to wince. Scara’s face turns cold before immediately grabbing the arm of the man who bumped into you his grip tight enough to bruise.

“Pallad, watch where you’re going.”

“H-How do you kno-“

“Scram.”

The man could only yelp in fear before running away.

spy!scaramouche who teaches you self defense because "You're weak as hell and I won't always be there to protect you…" He tells you mumbling out the last part so you couldn't hear him. He gets to be up and personal with you, his hand lingering a little longer on your waist. His face too close to yours that you can feel his breathe fan your face. This is supposed to be a part of the self defense lesson too right? Though his eyes tell a different story.

> spy? more like yandere

> ask box is always open for simping

#genshin impact #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x reader #genshin scaramouche #wanderer x y/n #skipps writes

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adventuringblind · 8 months

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Baby Daddy

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: Smut

Request: Yes and I did this happily because it came from the best (Would have been happy either way but that just makes it better)

summary: Charles and Max decided to see who can get reader knocked up first.

Warnings: Breeding kink, PinV, vomiting, double penetration, teasing, praising+degrading

Notes: The author liked this one. The author will now be jumping in holy water.

masterlist

The following media is not intended for minors. Please don't interact if you're under the age of 18.

She wasn’t sure how the conversation started. She knew both boys wanted to start a family, and she was in the height of a baby fever that she can’t escape from. So, asking about it made sense.

Not that they were mad. Of course not. They just couldn’t decided who would be the one to be the biological father.

“I think we should make it a competition.” Max’s smug face makes her pale. It’s never a good sign when he brings up that word.

“Winner gets to choose the order of out last names.” Charles demands. Another argument they’d been having recently.

“What about me?! I’m the one who’s carrying the baby!”

“You can choose where yours goes no matter who wins.”

“Sounds fair to me.” She smiles with satisfaction. At least she knows there is an ungodly amount of good sex coming her way.

Three months of trying. She was sore after every race. not for the reasons of her lovers. But because of what they to do her. their competitive spits had yet to falter. Much to her benefit and pleasure.

Six months of trying and she was starting to lose confidence in herself. Her doctor said she’s fine, but it doesn’t stop the stupid thoughts because all three of them want this entirely to much.

A year and she’s given up on thinking about it. They are obviously still trying, but it’s not something that she talks about much anymore. She knows that it takes longer for some and she’s okay with that. She just avoids the subject as much as possible.

The night Max wins his second championship title is about how’d you expect it to be. Except for the part where him and Charles are in the corner with the tiniest bit of alcohol in their drinks.

They eye her in that stupid dress she knows they love, dancing rather suggestively with Kika and Lily. She’d been staying away from alcohol as of late so they know she’s not even close to tipsy. Yet the look on her face as she dances could make anyone think she was.

‘I think we should get out of here before we do something stupid.” Suggests Charles without breaking his gaze.

“Like what?”

“Take here right here and now.”

The boys startle her as they drag her away from her friends. She hardly even registers they are in the car going to the hotel. “Did I do something wrong?” The sincerity in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed.

Max leans down to whisper in her ear. “Just thinking about getting this dress off of you."

Charles runs his fingers along her thighs, causing her to shiver. His mouth finds the crook of her neck and lays gentle kisses down to her collar bone.

She feels for the taxi driver. The poor man is subjected to whatever is happening in his back seat.

"Gonna take you home and put a baby in you." The Monegasque moans into her skin. It was making her feel in a way that had her squeezing her legs together.

They continued riling her up the entire way back to their hotel room. Even getting hands in the elevator and in the hall, which was thankfully empty.

Max gets the door to the room open. Then, the two males waste no time litterally ripping the dress off of her. Her clothes are gone in seconds.

Their hands are everywhere she doesn't want them. She's left squirming beneath their hold. Pinned to the bed in a way that leaves her more vulnerable. Every peice of herself exposed to them.

And they know exactly what they're doing.

Max runs a single finger over her slit. "Look, Charlie, I think she wanted this."

"Already so wet for us chéri." Charles moves from where he was attacking her neck down to her tits and attacks them instead. His tongue doing a number on the sensitive area.

Max slips a finger inside of her. To slow for her liking. She tries to buck her hips to get more friction only for Max's unoccupied hand to put more wait on her hips. "This is what you get for teasing us in that dress."

"Mm Maxy, think about how she'd look in the dress all swollen with our child." Charles hands barey touch her stomach, and yet it still has her back arching.

Max jumps off of her and is immediately pulling Charles up with him. He gives her a pointed look and tells her to stay.

And then their hands explore each other. Peeling each piece of clothing off the other in record time.

"If you're trying to get me to cum now to you have an advantage, it's nit going to work." Charles says as Max rolls his eyes and stops any movement he was making.

"I have an idea." Max mumbles.

"That's never a good sign."

"Well fine! I guess you don't want to hear how we could make this even."

The female looks between the two bickering and is interested in what he has to say. But also scared. Scared the she won't be able to walk for a week.

And she's right because soon enough, she is lying back against Charles with his cock inside of her. She can't stop moaning as Max leans over the top of them.

Even. She officially hates that word. And yet here she is being turned on by the fact that both boys will be inside her at the same time. Fingers crossed, they don't rip her open in the process.

"You sure you wanna try this?" Max looks at her for approval, and even with her initial fear, she knows they would never hurt her.

"Just go slow, please."

Max starts slow. Charles bites into her shoulder at the friction of her and Max. She can feel all of his muscles tensing underneath her as Max takes his sweet time pushing into her.

It hurts. She knows it won't in a couple of minutes. But right now, the stretch if it all burns like white hot fire.

When both are in her, they take care to help her relax until her body adjusts to the size. They wipe away her tears as she sinks into their hold.

"So good for us, amour. Taking both of us so beautifully." Charles exhales a breathy moan as if to further prove his point.

"Fuck schat, you look so pretty taking us so well."

And then everything went fuzzy. The friction of the two males was too much. Moving in and out in tandem; perfectly in sync with each other. Her thoughts seemed to be replaced only with them. Their breathing, the sounds, the feeling of skin on skin.

"Dobyou want it, schat? You want us to put a baby in you?"

She can't actually speak properly, but there is definitely a yes that can be heard in her moans.

Their praises are only pushing her closer to her breaking point. "I'm- please- I can't."

She doesn't even have time to warn them. She can't warn them. She can't hear them either. Her nails are buried in their skin.

They spill into her simultaneously. Their bodies are perfectly connected with each other. It feels overwhelming and terribly beautiful. The feeling of them spilling inside of her at the same time.

When they come down from the high is the hard part. Max slides out first, and Charles follows, slowly and gently. They collapse in a heap of exhaustion. The emotional tie and physical tie completely took their energy.

"Do you think maybe this time...?" She trails. Her question weighs on them.

"In time, mon amour. We'll still be here even if it's not."

Summer break is a time to recuperate. The three of you are on summer vacation, spending time together on the beach.

That night had been a month a half ago. The female had yet to realize she was late to her cycle. Opting to ignore it and assume she's just messed up for some reason.

The second to last morning of their trip, she woke up feeling absolutely terrible.

She snuck out of bed as quickly as she could without waking the boys who are much heavier sleepers than her anyway.

The nausea feeling was overpowering, and it didn't matter how stealthy she was. They woke up to the sound of her spilling the contents of her stomach.

And then every day after the the point everyone is concerned.

Two months and still no period, she finds herself at the doctors. The boys are back to racing, but with her state, she decided to stay in Monaco.

A decision she was now regretting while having the test from the doctor in her hands.

She is definitely pregnant this time. The paper in her hands says it clear as day.

It is only Friday. She has time to get out to the race to surprise them. And with that idea floating in her head, she calls Pascale.

Her and Pascale arrived to the track fifteen minutes into the race. The older woman is making a fuss over her as she tries to jog to the redbull garage. She was in Ferrari last time, and Redbull is closer to her anyway.

Pascale shakes her head as she watches the female slip into hospitality.

Max and Charles both made podium. She was absolutely ecstatic and even more so that Christian helped her get to where they would park.

They didn't notice her at first, even doing a double take at her and then each other. Then, with their helmets off, they ran to great her.

Their smiles were so big that she thought they might fall off.

They both attempted to embrace her through the divider, and she was able to slip her test results into the hand of Charles.

They looked at her skeptically before once again, having to leave her.

It wasn't until the cooldown room that they had a chance to look. Charles tentatively unfolds the paper and holds it out on front of him and Max.

The cameras got a lovely picture of the two hugging very tightly despite being 'rivals', and the happy tears from Charles could be made out even through the sweat.

Did it have people looking at the scene a little funny? Yes. She could hear the gasps of disapproval, but she didn't care. The teams know already and gave them the go-ahead over a year ago to make the relationship public.

She watches them with love and adoration.

"Definitely mine."

"No way! The baby will look like me!"

She rolls her eyes at the two. "Does it matter?" They look at her with mouths agape.

She is actively holding the paper that determines who wins. The paper that will tell them who the biological father is.

And she rips it.

Because no matter what, they are a family. The boys are looking at her endearingly despite the fact that she just took away their results. Because it doesn't matter. They are making their own little family and they couldn't be happier.

So, the argument of the last name order continues one.

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imaginaryf1shots · 1 month

Text

Rival? Friend? Lover

WC: 1.8K

Max Verstappen x Driver!Reader

Summery: (REQUESTED) You and Max have been rivals for so long but does that mean you hate him, did you ever hate each other.

Masterlist

Getting into F1 as a female was always deemed impossible, only on the basis that you are a female. The mostly male sport was never welcoming to different people who do it for their mould, doesn't matter how many videos they do or empty words they say. However, that didn't stop you from trying. Driving in F1 has always been your dream, you didn't care about other motorsports, you wanted to be a part of the pinnacle of motorsports, to race in the best and fastest cars in the world. Getting there wasn't easy, the road was filled with blood sweat and tears and ups and downs, more downs than ups, but nonetheless here you are today the first female in over 30 years racing an F1 car. And so is your rival Max Verstappen.

It's a well known fact between everyone who's into F1 that you don't have to be enemies to be rivals, as evident by all the friendships on the grid, but you and Max seemed like you're enemies. Since you've been in your karting days and you've always been against each other, always trying to best the other. So many edits of your rivally from Karting to F1 have made their way online.

“Max is right behind.” your race Engineer says through the radio.

“Really? I didn't notice.” You day dryly focusing on defending from the number 1 car behind you. He's all over your mirrors. “What is wrong with him? The track is too narrow for this shit.”

“Just focus on defending.” The RE says and you would've rolled your eyes if it weren't for the fact that you're racing at a high speed.

“Please stop talking!” You're stressed, Max is about to get DRS on you. You're turning the corner before a straight, and what do you know it seems your years of racing together affected your driving because you both went right at the same time and he had DRS on you, causing his car to slam straight into yours. The world stops for a moment, you let go of the steering wheel and hold your breath. You hit the wall once and stop, not a second later Max’s car slams into yours. Red flag is instantly issued and you breathe. Both cars are damaged with bits all over the track.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Your RE asks and you take a breath before saying you're okay. Adrenaline is rushing through your body and you lean back going through your limbs seeing where it hurts.

The moment Max’s car stops he gets out of the car and rushes to your car, he doesn't see you getting out making his heart beat in his chest as dread washes all over him.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Max shouts going to your car, you look up at him through the visor, his visor is up so you can see his worried eyes looking at you. “Are you hurt?”

“I don't think so.” You say and take out your wheel and slowly stand up, Max has his arms in the air to help you if you need it. The Marshalls are arriving and you jump out of the car, Max has his arm on your back as you get your balance back.

“Are you sure you're okay?” He asks, seeing how out of balance you are.

“Yeah, just a bit shocked.” You mutter not sure if he heard you or not. But the safety car is here, and a Marshall leads you to the car to be taken to the medical bay.

You're out of there in no time, walking out you find Max standing near the entrance.

“Did you get hurt?” You ask the Dutch driver, he looks up at the sound of your voice taking you in, your hair is loose and the suit is by your waist.

“No.”

“Why are you still here then?” You ask him frowning.

“What, you own the medical bay now?” He says and you scoff, shaking your head at his tone and words, you show him your middle finger as you walk past him. Max curses himself and looks at your figure walking away asking himself the million dollar question ‘since when do I care about this nuisance Well being?’

Later on Max is with Lando after the race at a club, with a few drinks in each they're both feeling the effects of the alcohol.

“You know with the crash today, if it was anyone other than y/n you would've had their head for the crash.” Lando says and wiggles his eyebrows teasingly at the RedBull driver.

“No I wouldn't, that's old me.” Max mutters while taking a sip from his drink.

“You literally had a fight with Ocon a few races ago because he clipped your front wing, mind you, you still came first.” Lando points out and Max says nothing. “Also a birdie told me you stayed at the med bay to check on her.”

“Huh, and who might this birdy be?” Max asks and Lando does the motion of zipping his lips. “ you know if you keep saying things like this i'll go find someone else to drink with.”

“I'm sure you'll find y/n somewhere around here.”

Lando laughs as Max leaves him in the direction of the bar.

At another race week, y/n is in the media conference after a race at your home race.

“Y/n, tell me it's been a tough getting past the RedBulls and especially Max, it's been a while since you got a win and some had their hopes on you today, and a lot of the fans are upset and are saying that its become boring now with Max winning every week, what's your take on this?”

“Uh, I feel like it's a bit unfair.” You say looking at the interviewer, Max is literally next to you on the sofa, sometimes you wonder what the interviewers expect to happen when they ask things like this. “It's unfair to hate on someone just because they're winning, you can't expect someone to lose when they can win, if I was in his position I'd give it my all and try to win as much as I could as well.” You shrug. “So all the booing and the hate makes no sense to me and frankly it's unfair.”

“So you don't want to win?” They ask and you frown.

“Where did I ever say that, of course I want to win, I wouldn't still be driving if I didn't think that, this is my home race of course I wanted to win but that's besides the point.” They open their mouth to ask something else and you roll your eyes before cutting them off. “Thank you, next question and to someone else please, I'm not entertaining this any further.”

You place your microphone next to you and take one out of Lewis's books and put on your sunglasses, you're clearly unamused.

It takes everything in you not to look at Max and wish for this to be over already.

Later on you're walking with Alex and George. “You know I thought you and Max are like the biggest enemies in F1 history.”

You roll your eyes at Alex's words and say nothing.

“Me too, but did you hear her at the conference?”

“Piss off both of you, I mean I barely said anything, I just don't get how so many people hate on him just for winning, yes I'm tired of the RB dominance but you can't hate an athlete for just winning. How is that girl?” You ramble a bit not realising the looks the taller drivers shared.

“I don't think you realise how you and Max aren't enemies any more.” You scoff at George's words and cross your arms.

“He's still annoying and stuck up.” You mutter frowning.

“You're convincing no one.” Alex says and you sigh.

“Okay whatever, see you later losers.” You say and break off from them to head to your motorhome.

You hear them laughing and flip them over your shoulder. Making them laugh even more.

You blame luck, honestly why is your luck so bad? What are the chances of you and Max staying in the same hotel, and what are the chances for you to be in the same left at the same time. AND what are the chances of it breaking down.

“What the heck?” You ask once the left stops moving, you were looking at your phone since you got on. Your eyes fell onto the other rider, who you just realised is Max.

Max presses the floor numbers before pressing the help one. Nothing.

“Press the help button.” You say.

“What do you think I just did?” Max says frustrated you unlock your phone only to see no signal.

“Do you have a signal?”

“No.”

A few minutes later you're sitting on the elevator floor with Max sitting on the other side. You've been silent for a while before Max broke the silence.

"You know, someone said we would make the perfect team." He said out of nowhere.

"Eww! No!" Was your natural response.

"That's what I thought." Max said and you fell into silence once more.

“Why do you think we wouldn't make a good team?” You ask Mqx curious about his answer.

“You literally said no too.” Max replied.

“I know… but why do you think that.?”

“I don't know, we've always been rivals, to be teammates and work together it's just… it's weird.” Max says and you hummed. “What about you? Why do you think we wouldn't make a good team?”

“It's the same I guess.” You shrug and look at your fingers, thinking it over you don't know why, being Max's rival has been all you know for so many years, it's like second nature to you, but thinking back you don't think he's ever done anything to warrant the hate that you realise is not there anymore. You're not sure if it ever was. You whisper. “I'm trying so hard to hate you.”

“why?” Max asks and you look at him only to find him already looking at you.

“I have no idea, you've been my biggest rival since we were kids and it's ingrained in me to not like you, but, I don't think we have to hate each other to be rivals.” You say not to overthink the words coming out before you say them. “I just realised that I have no reason to hate you and I don't think that I ever did.”

“To be honest we were kids and then teenagers, lots of unbalanced hormones there.” Max points out and you agree with him, there's a long moment of silence before he says “I don't think I've hated you for a long time as well.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It takes another ten minutes before the left is working again and you're out. Later that day you get a text from an unknown number.

Unknown Number

Hey its Max

I got your number from Lando

Y/N

Hey it's okay

What's up?

Max

I know it might be weird but

Do you want to go out with me?

Y/N

Like a date?

Max

Yeah

Y/N

When and where

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x driver!reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max Verstappen x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #enemies to lovers

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luveline · 9 months

Text

𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐧 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

things aren't the way you planned coming home with your newborn, but you have eddie there to lean on when things get hard (and an unlimited supply of 'munson-style' hugs). requested here. infatuated dad!eddie x mom!reader, 3k.

cw post partum recovery, reader is suffering from some symptoms of post partum depression

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"You're sure you can manage?" Wayne asks, his voice buzzing down the line.

Eddie peers out of the kitchen into the living room quietly. You're sitting on the sofa in a shape that can't be comfortable considering your recent stitches, the baby on your thighs where you've brought them together, your hands delicately posed on either side of his head.

"I think so," Eddie says, answering Wayne's questions with honesty. "She's feeling a little better today."

"It's hard, Eds. You take care of her and call me if you need help, okay? I'm proud of you. Both of you."

It catches Eddie off guard for a moment. He's done enough crying lately, clearing his throat to say, "Thanks, Wayne. Call me tomorrow."

"You call me, I don't wanna wake anyone if you're sleeping."

They say their goodbyes. Eddie leans against the kitchen doorway to spy on you and the baby. Babies cry more than he ever could've imagined despite the warnings, but it's quiet, too. There are moments of peacefulness like this one breaking apart the chaos.

You're whispering something. Eddie stands very still, wishing the dishwasher would magically silence itself. He strains to hear you.

"I love you," you say. "Sorry I'm tired, honey. I promise I'll be better. You're so beautiful."

Eddie bites his cheeks, wondering if his family (his family!) aim to make him cry and little else tonight. He gives himself a look in the mirror magnet on the fridge framed by a We Love Michigan border, rainbows and cute elk surrounding something less pretty. His hair is frizzy but that's nothing new, greasy at the top and dry at the bottom. He scrapes it back into a scrappy bun and wipes the oil from his face with his sleeves. He's in dire need of a shower.

Resigned, he steps out of the kitchen, new socks slippery on old linoleum before finding stability on the crush of carpet in need of a vacuuming in the living room. You look up and bless him with a smile.

You've had a bad case of the baby blues, though the midwife assured him that was normal, and not to worry unless it continued past the first few weeks.

Well, Eddie will worry. Any depression you experience breaks his heart, no matter the cause, and no matter how temporary it may be. Just 'cos a cut might heal doesn't mean it didn't hurt when you got it.

"How do you feel?" he asks cautiously.

You make a face that he knows precedes a lie. "Don't worry about me."

He sits on the arm to look down at the baby —his baby, his son— in your hold, your face moving immediately to rest on his thigh.

"I'm okay, teddy," you say.

"How about you?" he asks the baby, taking his hand gently.

The baby doesn't open his eyes nor answer the question, well and truly asleep.

"Do you think Charlie was the right name?" you ask, stroking his small face lightly.

"If we hate it, we can just call him Wayne."

Eddie's out of this world lucky that you'd liked the name and loved him enough to name the baby after his uncle. Charlie Wayne Munson, born six pounds and two ounces, the smallest baby they saw all week in Hawkins General.

"He looks more like a Wayne than a Charlie," you say, rubbing your cheek into Eddie's sweatpants.

"He's so fucking beautiful," Eddie says, getting his hand behind your shoulders. He gives your back a loving rub, up and down the whole stiff length of it. "Would you relax? Or tell me what's wrong? Please?"

"Nothing's wrong… Look how perfect he is, I'd be a freak to act like something was wrong," you say, the exhale of your words warming his leg.

Eddie rubs his hand up with a tad more roughness until the cinch between your shoulders has flattened.

"You're having a biological reaction," Eddie says, leaning down to press his lips to the top of your head. "Don't feel bad about feeling bad, sweetheart. This is a physical thing, that's all it is. You're not a freak for feeling wobbly."

You relax even more, pad of your thumb swiping Charlie's smooth cheek.

"Want me to make you feel better?" he asks.

"How?"

"I'm not sure yet. I was thinking we'd make a list. Starting with a hug, quickly followed by something amazing to eat before Wayne wakes up."

"Charlie," you correct with a small laugh.

"Is there a nickname for Charlie?" Eddie asks. "What are we gonna call him? Lee?"

"We'll think of something," you promise.

Eddie isn't worried about it. He figures there's at least five years of nickname time to get one that sticks. For now, he has a list to make and things to do, and the first is making sure you're as well as you can be. He starts with the hug, pulling what you want for dinner from you one soft kiss to your temple at a time. Chicken pot pie? Ramen noodles with a fried egg on top? Sesame chicken? Triple cheeseburgers?

You can't decide. Eddie chooses breakfast for dinner. It won't take long —he can fry the sausage, eggs, turkey bacon and toast in one pan.

He keeps the door open to watch you, though nothing is actively wrong. You're deflated now rather than tense, petting and fawning over the baby as much as you can without waking him up.

"Just as handsome as your dad," you say.

It's a lovely sentiment but Charlie does not approve. He blinks awake, signified by your saccharine, "Hi, baby boy," followed by ten seconds of awe-filled cooing. Eddie's frying some bread in the pan but dinner can wait, he wants to see the baby with his eyes open again.

By the time Eddie reaches the couch, he's crying.

You move him carefully into a rock-a-bye hold and shush him. "It's alright," you say.

"He sounds like you."

"What?" you ask between shushes, hand tapping a slow and gentle rhythm into Charlie's swaddle.

"He sounds like you when he cries," Eddie insists.

Not your pained screams a few days ago nor your heart wrenching tears when you're feeling at your worst, but your hormonal sobbing. Like when you saw the commercial about the new 'shoplifters exposed' program on CBS that featured an old lady who stole a tangerine from the grocery store and got arrested despite her having alzheimers. She didn't mean to, Eddie, why would they make her cry like that? In fairness, it was a very upsetting commercial, but you cried for four hours, and for days afterward your eyes would well with tears and he'd know exactly what you were thinking of.

"When you're on your period," he explains. "When you know you wouldn't usually cry."

"You think so?" you ask.

"I think the solution is the same, too."

You nod your agreement. "He's hungry."

You and Eddie feed the baby with varying levels of success. Charlie doesn't wanna latch even though it's a bottle teat, causing some confusion —is he not hungry? Is he cold? No, sweetheart, he's not cold, he's got two blankets and the thermostat's at 68 Fahrenheit. Maybe he needs a new diaper? You check. His diaper's clean.

You're looking more and more defeated by the second. Eddie sits beside you to give your knee a reassuring squeeze. Babies are hard to look after, but he knows you'll both grow into it. You're exhausted from nine long months and a turbulent half day stint of pushing and crying and turning the bones in his hands into powder, your hormones are going crazy, and you're having a tough time. This won't be your forever feeling (though if it were to last, Eddie would stay at your side through that, too, that's not a question).

"You know what else works when you're not feeling good?" Eddie asks, offering his arms. He isn't some muscled herculean shape, but when you hand Charlie over, his arms look strong. Capable. Holding Charlie feels just as perfect as holding you. "A Munson-style cuddle," he finishes, trying to speak to his wailing son in that same bubbly parentese you've started talking in.

Eddie did a lot of talking to your bump while you were pregnant, but he was usually just trying to make you laugh. There were times where he'd lay with his nose against your hip and his arm under the bump, wondering about moments like this. What was the baby going to look like? What colour would his eyes be? What will it feel like to hold the baby in his arms?

Charlie feels lighter than Eddie first prophesied. Small. He has eyes like yours rather than eyes like his and he couldn't love it more.

Eddie takes the bottle when you offer it and sandwiches the baby to his chest. He doesn't want to condescend you, doesn't want to shoo you off, but Charlie's crying around the bottle and you look veritably miserably.

"Do you wanna go and make sure the food isn't on the turn?" he asks. When he realised the baby wasn't going to go down easy again he put your plates on a baking sheet and put the oven on low to keep it warm.

You hesitate. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know. I think so, sweetheart. We're barely a room away, alright?"

He's called you sweetheart more since the birth of your son than ever before, which is insane; Eddie's called you sweetheart likely twice a day since the day you met. That's a whole lot of sweethearts.

With the baby's changing mood comes a change in the weather. Eddie pats his little back, a quiet thump thump thump, while rain lashes the closed windows. The baby finally decides he's hungry, and the mood turns from frenetic to ambient almost immediately.

"You make sure you eat if you're hungry!" Eddie calls to you.

"Are you sure?"

"I think…" He drifts off, distracted by Charlie's long eyelashes, the way they skim under his eyes and the tiny noises he makes as he suckles. "Aw, baby," he murmurs, "good job. I knew you were hungry. You sounded just like your mom." He can't help grinning. Eddie is really talking to his kid right now, his real life baby. "You made her super emotional, but you're her whole world now. You're mine, too, obviously, but I'm cooler than this." He sighs. "No. I'm not. This is the coolest thing ever."

"What do you think?" you ask softly.

Eddie looks up. You're standing at the door, staring at them like they're made of sparkling diamond, every inch precious.

"Right. I think that we're gonna have to start eating when we can. Wayne never had a baby, but he said I was bad enough as a teenager, and Steve said he's lucky if he gets to eat a hot meal some days."

"Steve does have three," you say, frowning. "We really can't eat together anymore?"

You ask like you're less bothered than you are. Like a gimmicky Oh, man. Eddie knows it hides a real worry, and right now he's trying to give you the world on a silver platter, so he dots a little kiss on Charlie's head and says warmly into his skin, "No, that's not true. You're going to be such a good kid, me and mom will be eating together all the time. Isn't that right?"

Eddie looks at you with his head still tilted down. "I wanna eat together, okay? Everything's changing, but dinner doesn't have to. I just wanted you to eat 'cos you left half of your waffles at breakfast."

"I can wait."

"Then let's wait. You wanna come and hold him?"

"No, he's settled. I don't wanna mess it up again."

"You didn't," Eddie says, firm and sweet at once. "Sweetheart, come here. You didn't mess up, okay? I'm serious, come and sit with me."

You hesitate in the way. You're still unsteady on your feet despite the few days you've had to recuperate. Though your hair is cleaner than his it certainly isn't clean, nor are the clothes you've pulled on. Eddie read up and asked around on what would be comfiest for you, debating nightgowns and silk pyjamas at length, but all you've wanted to wear is a hoodie you've had since you were a teenager and a pair of sweatpants with fraying cuffs. He loves it —you look like an adorable dork.

Your stomach visibly churns. Eddie thinks you might chuck up, is already pulling the baby to his chest to place in the bassinet when you take a short, quiet gasp for air.

"Sorry, I don't know why I feel so on and off. I know it's just hormones. I promise I feel happy– I feel happy–" You gesture an open palm toward him. "He's gorgeous, Eds, he's everything I wanted and so much more, I just– I just feel like crying and I don't know why," you confess, blinking to suppress tears, shifting your weight uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Eddie detests seeing you this uneasy, and he swoops in to correct it.

"Come here," he says again, no hands free to hold out to you. He hopes his voice is inviting enough.

You shrink into yourself. "I'm being weird."

"I like when you're weird. I kind of love it. I don't think we'd be in the mess if I didn't love it."

"It's a mess?" you ask.

"It's perfect."

You finally smile, creeping around the bassinet and the needlessly baby proofed coffee table to sit on the edge of the couch with him. Charlie makes a sound in the back of his throat.

"Hear that? He knows you're here," Eddie murmurs, making room for you hopefully.

You sidle up to his thigh and lean on his arm, careful not to knock his elbow. You watch Charlie drink his bottle for as long as there's milk left, two ounces knocked back like it's nothing.

Eddie eases the teat from Charlie's lips carefully. With care but a clumsy imprecise manoeuvre, he lays Charlie down in the bassinet. He has a lot of hair for such a small baby, enough to stroke back from his forehead, soft under Eddie's fingertips.

"He's really, really beautiful," Eddie says quietly.

"I know," you say, an anxious hand on your cheek. "I can't believe something as good as him could come from someone like me."

Eddie stands between your legs, resting a loving hand at the slope of your shoulder. "Why would you ever think something like that?" he asks, his voice as soft as it's ever been, but with a smile in case you don't want to talk about it any more.

"He's… I'm just not…"

Eddie gives you time. You've needed it ever since you went into labour, time to piece things together.

"I really thought I was ready," you say, looking up at him with a pinch between your eyebrows.

He brings his hand up to cup your face. You don't lean into it. "Alright, I'm going to talk for a little while, 'n' I know you won't agree with everything I'm saying but I need you to know that this is how I really feel, yeah? Buckle up." Eddie bends down, unafraid of embarrassing himself because it's you. "I know you think these feelings are your fault… that this is some failing, like you're–" He drops his voice to a whisper, "Like you're being a bad mom already, but it's not the truth."

You startle at being read so easily. "Eds," you mumble.

"We knew this might be how you felt afterward, the midwife talked and talked about baby blues and you said–"

"I said I couldn't understand how I'd ever feel sad once he was born," you say, looking at his neck rather than his face.

"And that's fine, you know? You're not a bad person for thinking it would be perfect and then changing your mind."

"But he is perfect," you say.

Eddie rubs your cheek. "He's perfect, but this is hard. Being a new mom with your stitches and your aching tummy and all the gross fluids–"

You laugh through a groan, pressing your eye into his hand.

He leaps to keep it going. "This isn't how you expected to feel, but that's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Cry if you feel like crying and don't feel fucking guilty about it, this sucks. You had to do the world's most tumultuous campaign for the last nine months and suddenly you're standing at the start of a new one that takes up, like, a gazillion pages with half health and an equally useless companion."

Your lips press into a thin line, but your eyes are soft and bright despite their obvious fatigue. You bracelet his wrist with your fingers and push his hand further into your cheek.

"My dork," you murmur.

"You understand it, don't you? Makes you an even bigger dork."

You nudge your nose into his palm. "I understand. Thank you, honey."

Eddie's not done. "You said you don't know how something good like him could come from someone like you? I don't think bad was a possibility."

Your second thank you is better. The first wasn't inauthentic, but this one sounds as though you genuinely believe him. Eddie bows down into a crouch to wrap his arms around you, the majority of his weight on your shoulders and avoiding your sore lower region, and the entirety of his love pressed to your cheek, a long, mindless kiss.

"I love you," you say.

Eddie tucks his head against yours, ignoring his protesting knees. "I love you, too."

Your food turns to dry mulch by the time you remember it in the oven. You're too distracted by Eddie's hug, his offering for a shoulder massage, and the subsequent second hug that ensues, your back to his chest, dozing in the sanctuary of his arms. Munson-style cuddles are his expertise.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thank you for reading!

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malewifeharem · 2 months

Text

yandere!malleus alphabet

彡- ,, yandere twst malleus alphabet (template from @dear-yandere eheheheh)

cw ⁞ violence, blood, manipulation, just general yandere behaviour??? kinda suggestive in K. not proofread.

an ⁞ feel free to req more of this for other characters only from om! for now :')

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

VERY INTENSE, to say the least. fae are known to be very territorial and possessive and malleus isn't an exception. he likes to shower you with affection and expensive gifts such as jewels or gold and doesn't allow you to 'reject' them. he has no objections to locking you up somewhere he can keep his eyes on you or starting wars with other kingdoms if it means that you'll be his.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

he definitely wouldn't mind getting rid of any nuisances getting in between the both of you but he always makes sure to clean up before you arrive. the scene is extremely gruesome — blood and guts would basically be in every crevice of the room. he only manages to get rid of the stench with his magic, so he tries to not kill people too often, lest he ends up overblotting and harming you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

nope nope nope. it doesn't matter how pathetic you look when you cry, he could never ridicule you like that. you just need to get used to your new environment! can't you see that he really wants the best for you?

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

his gifts and affection will be reciprocated, whether you like it or not. sure, he'll be more lenient if you've only just been captured but you can't keep shunning him away! will tie your wrists and ankles together to get you to stop struggling during naps and cuddle sessions. he has slipped love potions into your food before too.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

you and lilia are probably the only people who know about his... aggressive tendencies. he'll often times weep at your feet inconsolably — crying about how much he loves you and how it hurts when you don't feel the same way. as if that wasn't uncomfortable enough, he'll suddenly start rambling on about how you'd love his tower in briar valley and that you'd have no need to ever step out of it. humans like living in that kind of luxury, right?

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

fight back? against the 5th most powerful magic wielder in the world? yeah, good luck. he would never intentionally harm you, but you're really breaking his heart like this. he simply doesn't understand why you're so upset and just tries to calm you down to the best of his abilities. this is just a small lover's spat, it'll all be over soon!

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

he does not find this funny, he takes it very seriously. what's wrong with what you have now? do you not like his gifts? why do you keep trying to run away? he's very confused and hurt — nevertheless, he always manages to catch you, leaving you right back where you started.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

before your abduction, you were still the human transfer student at NRC, you were still allowed the freedom to talk to anyone you wanted. malleus knew you and leona were quite close — the lion male having a small liking towards you. he was already quite irked at the sight, but he snapped when you hugged the lion, enchanting the whole vicinity with his signature spell — causing everyone to fall into a deep slumber. that's when he took the opportunity to lock you up in his room and you've been there since.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

he hopes to marry you one day and have you rule briar valley with him as his rightful queen. he definitely wants to have a family with you too, he does need to continue his royal fae bloodline!

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

YES. he tries to talk to you and hear whatever complaints you have but it's all in vain. he refuses to believe that you loathe him. he'll stand there in silence before quickly excusing himself — you don't see him for a few days. what does he do during this time? oh i don't know... maim whatever friends you have left? (ehe!)

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

he's very sweet. he has never felt so strongly for anyone before and he's going to give all of his love to you! he's constantly touching you, whether or not it's wrapping his arms around you or marking you up with bites. it's how fae show affection for their loved one! he'll charm you with his honeyed words — praising you when you're being obedient in the daytime and gently lulling you to sleep by night.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

before your abduction, he'd slip beautifully handwritten letters into your locker. however, it has no sender — your only clue as to who it was being the bright green wax seal. you thought it was just a random diasommnia student and didn't think much about them till the contents of these letters started becoming increasingly disturbing. saccharine poems of love and his promised reveal turned to bitter jealousy and rage at your 'infidelity' to him. how dare you speak to other students, especially those from his own house! you stopped receiving letters entirely but malleus suddenly started showing up at ramshackle dorm more often.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

sort of? lilia is the only other person who knows about his treatment of you. to everyone else, he's still unapproachable and cold. only you get to see him all pathetic and vulnerable. (manfailure)

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

being locked up in his room means zero contact with the outside world — you wonder how ace, deuce and grim are doing. solitude was enjoyable sometimes, sure, but you haven't seen anyone who isn't malleus for weeks. imagine the horror when even he stops showing up! this silent treatment usually ends within a few days because it breaks his heart to not speak to his darling too.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

you're pretty much deprived of social interaction. i hope you have an interest in gargoyles.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

he's surprisingly patient. his punishments are all quite tame — none of them being harmful to you. he understands if you need more time to get used to your new life but make him wait too long and he might slip a love potion into your food!

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

no. just no. if you died, he'll find a way to resurrect you — charm, potion, curse, spell, anything. trying to escape from him isn't something feasible for a human. you're stuck with him forever!

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

your cries of sorrow does bring him a sense of guilt and regret but the thought of letting you openly roam free again brings him more rage and worry. try convincing him to go out with you to a secluded area — he might agree if he's in a good mood!

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

poor dragon boi has lived for almost two centuries with no one he can consider a friend :( everyone's too scared or cautious of him to talk normally. so when a sweet fragile human like you treats him so nicely, he might just tear up. especially since you continued to do so after learning of his identity.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

( already kinda answered in C and F)

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

(i don't think so? define classic yandere :'D)

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

he's so patient and kind, if you play your cards well, you might be able to convince him to let you out for a little while — under his supervision, of course.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

intentionally, no. never! he has definitely damaged (killed) whatever social life you had before and your freedom but it was mostly unintended! (yea ok malleus...)

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

he likes to think that you two are equals — you as his bride, wife, future queen. he treasures whatever shred of affection you give him but i don't think he'd ever reach the point of kissing the ground you walk on or anything like that.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

(read H) in order to get to that point, he's already been tolerating your 'unfaithfulness' for a few months.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

probably. he already uses love potions on you, who's to say he won't make it permanent?

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haunted-xander · 3 months

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Sometimes I think about Urianger's role in and feelings on the Thancred-Ryne dynamic and I think watching it kills him a bit inside. For several reasons.

Like, to begin with there's the guilt he's been carrying with him since he ushered Minfilia to the first, how he effectively killed the person Thancred cared about the most in the world and who's "death" ended up causing Ryne's entire Situation. He looks at what's happening between them and can only think "I caused this" even though that's not really true. No one person is responsible for this outcome, it's a culmination of several circumstances and the consequences of them. Logically, Urianger knows this. But it doesn't matter, because his guilt is overpowering his logic.

And also, like. What Thancred is doing here, the way he's knowingly letting Ryne be and stay hurt because he literally cannot bring himself to tell her his feelings, is the exact same mistake Urianger made with Moenbryda. Of course, the circumstances are vastly different, and the potential consequences to Thancred telling Ryne the wrong things or her misinterperating it is far greater (being a matter of literal life or death), it's still the same sort of paralysis they are trapped in.

And he knows it. He sees it. But he can't say or do anything about it, he doesn't have the right to. He acknowledges the mistake, but he hasn't really improved upon it yet. He still doesn't voice his thoughts and feelings as he should. He's also non-confrontational by nature, he doesn't argue or try to change peoples minds, he probably doesn't think he has any place to.

So, he tries to help in what little ways he can. Because he doesn't want it to become Monebryda again, he doesn't want to know he stole not one but two people from Thancred. So he does what he can. He tells Ryne little tidbits about Thancred, things that help her understand him but are safe to share. Nothing too deep, nothing too personal. Just small things, things that are purely factual, because he can't afford to give her a false image of who Thancred is. He teacher her fun and interesting things, because Thancred isn't in the mindset to provide her with non-essential skills.

I like to think Urianger has brought it up with Thancred at least once, during one of his stays. But nothing would've come of it. Not really. Unlike Y'shtola, Urianger isn't pushy, he'll bring it up once or twice and when he sees this won't go anywhere, he gives up. He wants to help, but he knows that persistance only does do much, and he is not the person who has the resiliance needed to push and push until Thancred finally budges (because he won't budge, it won't help anything but to sour things further by adding aditional stress to an already strained dynamic).

And like. Urianger gets it. He gets it because he's been the same way- not saying what he should to someone he loves more than anything else because she was meant to figure her life out herself, and 'steering' her in any direction by telling her his feelings (regardless of if the 'steering' is intention or not) will go against that. He gets it. He gets it and it's all the more painful for it. He knows it can't just be fixed by acknowledging it or with encouragement, something needs to happen to break the stasis.

I think this is probably why he stayed behind while they went off to Nabaath Areng. This is the very last chance they have to say what they want to, and he can't afford to be the anchor anymore. This is about them, not him, he can't let their resolution be buffed by his presence, so he stays behind. Which was probably for the best. Ryne got nervous when Urianger said he's staying behind, probably not too excited about being alone with Thancred (well, not alone, but WoL doesn't count) so soon after she had ran away crying. But she needs to be nervous. For anything positive to come out of this Thancred and Ryne both can't afford to be too relaxed. As sad as it is, the stress is necessary for anything to happen. He knows it. Does he like it? Absolutely not, but nor does he like his other plots. At least no one dies this time if it goes right.

#urianger had an integral part in the thancred-ryne situation and i think its very important to remember that #like i think he served as a very important buffer that prevented the dynamic from becoming even more strained than it already was #but also like. ryne NEEDED to have at least someone she can be comfortable around without the stress of her circumstances souring it #urianger is uniquely suited to play that role. even with his guilt regarding minfilia he never showed anything but genuine kindness for her #it helps that she didnt know about his hand in the situation existing to begin with (as shes surprised when he tells her in ahm areang)#THATS ALSO IMPORTANT BTW. like this man had a DIRECT hand in making this happen (even if it isnt fully his fault. minfilia made her choice)#AND LIKE. the parallels between uri-moen and thancred-ryne. they both love these girls so so much but cant bring themselves to say anything #urianger has been through the pain before. he knows. but he hasnt improved much himself. what right does he have to scold thancred?#silent support is all he can give. pushing thancred would make him a hypocrite and risk making it worse. hes not suited for confrontation #y'shtola and uriangers approaches to helping both have their merits but it needs a balance #too much pushing and the dynamic just gets worse but too forgiving and nothing will ever change #and yes i know im just repeating myself but ITS IMPORTANT OK #GOD #urianger augurelt #thancred waters #ryne waters #final fantasy #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #ffxiv #xander rambles #xander being insane about ryne #urianger actually this time but. its related to ryne so. it gets the tag

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