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#everyone internally: rest in peace
gay-dorito-dust · 2 days
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I have been binging your work!
I don't know if this breaks your trauma rule or not, but (with the guys of your choosing as long as Ratio is there) how would the guys react to losing reader (they haven't confessed feelings yet) during a mission and thinking they died. Then, the reader reappears a week later bandaged up, but alive. Maybe spouts their confession first? ˘͈ᵕ˘͈
I adore your writing. Thank you!
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This is way too fucking long, so be warned. It’s like I rammed 4 mini stories in one but got lost at some point cuz I left this ask to collect dust. Also thanks for enjoying my writing it’s much appreciated. :) 🦦🐿️
Sunday:
The moment he got news that you’ve been assumed dead in the aftermath of a dangerous mission, he looses composure really quickly.
Loosing Robin was one thing but loosing you on top of that was the straw that broke the camels back.
He originally doesn’t believe that you were gone, he refuses to as he practically tears his office to shreds in a fit of anger and grief before forcing himself to regain composure and clean up after his outburst. He needed to in order to keep up the illusion that he was the levelheaded leader The Family needed in these moments of chaos and mistrust.
Even if he himself was breaking down internally alongside everyone else, hellbent on finding the culprit for your death and punishing them so severely that they’d beg for death. He’d avenge you in anyway he could, even if it meant sending out the bloodhound family on a wild goose chase that only ends in dead ends, he would get you justice no matter how it may come.
His heart had died alongside you that day.
So when a week passes and he finally has you back in his arms, all the while being carful with your wounds as his eyes searched you over in a way you weren’t use to.
‘You’re alive.’ He breathes out in relief as he then begins to laugh and rest his head against yours, breathing you in deeply as he relishes in this long awaited moment. ‘Of course you’re alive.’ He mutters.
‘Sunday,’ you began but Sunday was quite to cut you off.
‘Do you know how I felt thinking you were dead? Driving myself insane to prove that you were still alive anyway I could as not to bear the idea of walking through this life without the one person I love so dearly.’ Sunday takes a brief pauses in his monologue, feeling out of breath after having put everything out into the open before continuing. ‘I thought my heart had stopped beating that day and now I have you bad in my arms.’ Sunday then chuckles darkly as he gripped you tighter. ‘I’ll ensure that I’d never have to revisit that part of my life ever again.’
‘Sunday-‘
‘Shhh.’ Sunday cuts you off once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he holds you close to his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. ‘Just know that what I do after this, I do out of my love for you.’ He says against your forehead before pressing another kiss there for good measure.
Jing yuan:
Loss wasn’t new to Jing Yuan.
He has experienced it in multiple forms throughout his life, but that didn’t made the news of your death any less painful for the General.
While his mind might’ve made peace with the fact that you were gone, his heart however did not as he would find himself in the places that you often vacated to in moments of stress, or to just be left alone for a while with your thoughts. So to no longer see you in any of those hidden spots -waiting for him to find you like you usually did- only worsened the grief he felt in his heart as he sat himself down and allowed the memories to pass over him in waves.
You were both so happy together and felt a sense of fulfilment that could only be achieved when you were within the other’s presence; A feeling that was uniquely yours and yours alone that could never be replicated, ever. For no one could ever come close to replacing you, nor the companionship you and he had for each other that many assumed would blossom into something more; Jing Yuan also shared the same sentiments as they did, but just as he built the courage to push that boundary between the two of you, you were taken from him before he could utter a single word.
So when a week passes and Jing Yuan found your battered and beaten form in one of your secret spots, back resting against a tree with your eyes closed.
‘Y/n?’ He called out and your eyes opened upon hearing his voice and looking at him with a weak smile. ‘Hey General, miss me?’ You said as you struggled to get up to your feet, only to stumble forward and into Jing Yuan’s chest as his strong yet gentle hands hold you in place.
‘More than you could ever hope to know.’ Jing yuan said as he focused on how you felt beneath his hands, warm and alive.
‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ You muttered against his chest as his warmth made you realised just how tired you were from everything you’ve experienced this last week alone. ‘I never meant to keep you waiting in fear that you’d forget about me if I don’t stay in your life long enough.’ You admit and Jing Yuan instinctively presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you protectively.
‘I could never forget about you my beloved.’ Jing Yuan reassured you as he looked you deep into your eyes. ‘You’ve managed to carve your place within my heart and soul, so much that there isn’t a day where you aren’t all I think about, regardless of whether or not your by my side or far away.’ He finished by pressing a gentle kiss to the gauze on your cheek, chuckling upon seeing your cute attempts of burrowing your face into his chest.
‘How long have you’ve been waiting to say this.’ You asked, thankful that he was the one to admit his feelings first, as you would’ve had a hard time articulating your words as fluidly as he could.
‘For a very long time.’ Jing Yuan replied with a small smile as he then proceeded to lift you into his arms, cuasing you to squeal in surprise, as he made sure to be carful of your wounds and began walking to the nearest medics to make sure your wounds weren’t going to be trouble later on.
Aventurine:
He didn’t know what to think when you were pronounced dead, all Aventurine could feel in that moment was an overwhelming numbness that encased him entirely.
The only light left in his life had been snuffed out, plummeting him into utter and total darkness he had once been well acquainted with until you came along, giving him a reason to keep looking forward despite everything.
You were no longer here to hold onto his left hand before he could even think of hiding it behind his back out of habit, you were no longer here to be his reason, his comfort, his safe place. You were taken away from him unfairly and once again Aventurine found himself asking the same question he has been asking himself for a long time; why everyone was born into this life just to die.
So when a week passes and Aventurine finds himself sat on a bench somewhere, still not dealing well then than he was the week of your assumed passing, lost in his own thoughts when someone took a seat next to him. Aventurine was just about ready to tell them to go away, when he saw just who was sitting next to him; you.
‘I know, I look like shit but you don’t have to look at me like that.’ You spoke upon feeling his eyes gaze upon the gauze on your cheek, then towards the array of bandages that littered the rest of your body.
‘I thought you died.’ He hissed, emotion was heavy in his voice as his eyes became bleary with unshed tears as he felt his breathing become heavy with the reality that you were alive. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t in that moment as his mind raced. And it wasn’t until you reached out to grasp his left hand and intertwine your fingers together, squeezing, did everything finally became clear to him.
‘I thought I was too at one point but there was something that kept me from journeying over to the afterlife.’ You admit, looking over at him and smiling sweetly, wanting nothing then to calm his thoughts and reassure him that this wasn’t a dream.
‘And what was that?’ He laughs humourlessly as he stares back at you, wanting to hear what excuses you could come up with for faking being dead for a week. ‘Willpower? Determination?’
‘You Kakavasha.’ You replied straightforwardly and his breath hitched in his throat. You rarely used his actual name unless it was absolutely serious. ‘You were all I thought about as I pushed through my injuries.’ You told him as you continued. ‘Kakavasha is waiting for me was just about all I could think about for a week straight.’ You finished as though you didn’t just confess that he was your soul motivator in staying alive.
‘Really?’ Aventurine said softly, finding it impossible that he could possibly be your reason for anything. ‘Why?’
‘Yes really.’ You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder. ‘As for why, it’s because I like you more then did let myself admit, but i just wanted you to know incase anything truly bad were to ever happen to me-‘
‘No.’ Aventurine cut you off suddenly, squeezing your hand as though he were afraid. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you, not now. not ever. I just got you back.’ He adds resting his head against your own in a desperate attempt of feeling more of your against him. ‘Just stay with me…please.’ He begs you in a whisper as he nuzzled further into you. ‘and don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I don’t think I can bear the thought of loosing you again.’
You smiled softly as you just whispered back against the skin of his neck. ‘As long as you don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I like my crush to be alive and close by even if he can be a pain in my ass sometimes.’
Aventurine chuckles, his heart becoming whole again as he made you cuddle into his side, kissing your head once more as you took this moment to familiarise yourselves with each other. ‘At least I’m a pleasurable pain in the ass.’ He teased and you pinch his side, causing him to flinch, but his smile remained and this time his smile was genuine.
His light has came home.
Ratio:
Fully believed that he’d see you when the mission ended, knowing just how talented and dedicated to the craft you were, and having faith that this would be a measly walk in a park for you.
Only to receive word that you were one of the many who were assumed dead when you weren’t found amongst the living nor the dead.
Veritas tries to remain as levelheaded and logical as possible during this time and continue life as normal. However found himself retracting from everyone else and going none contact, more so specifically with the people you were once associated with, and instead focused heavily on his studies and academics to an unhealthy extent.
A week passes and Veritas feels as though he’s seen a ghost the moment he saw you in his peripheral vision, bandaged and dressed in ripped clothing but still somehow finding it in you to smile.
‘You idiotic Buffon!’ He exclaims as he walks towards you.
‘Well that’s a nice way to greet someone you care about.’ You replied as you readied yourself for a massive rant about how stupid you were and so on, but instead you were held against his chest as he burrows his head into your neck.
‘I thought you died.’ He says in a whisper as he breathed you in. This went against all logic but in that rare moment Veritas didn’t care, you were alive but he still couldn’t let go of the fact that you didn’t tell anyone you were still alive. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone that you were alive, send a signal, anything.’
You shrugged as you made yourself comfortable in his strong arms. ‘All communications were badly damaged or completely cut off.’ You told him. ‘I was on my own for a long while before finding my way back to you.’
‘Me?’ Veritas asked, pulling away from you. ‘Why not a medial facility for a proper treatment of your wounds? Have you hit your head so hard that common sense had been left on the back burner when making that decision?’
‘I wanted to see you first you dickhead!’ You exclaimed, shutting Veritas up rather quickly with your confession but you didn’t care. ‘is it so wrong of me to let the man I love know that I’m okay? So go ahead and call me an idiot all you like but that won’t change the fact that I felt more fear about not telling you how I truly feel then dying on some stupid mission.’ You finished your rant.
‘You’re insufferable.’ Veritas said after a moment of silence and you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at this that you didn’t notice that Veritas has began to close in the distance between the two of you.
You scoffed. ‘Oh sure call me insufferable as if you-‘ Veritas cuts you off by cupping your cheeks and planting a sweet short lived kiss against your lips before pulling away with a smirk.
‘Glad to know that the feelings are reciprocated.’ He says, taking enjoyment of rendering you speechless as he gently guided you to medical, and remaining by your side for the remainder of the day.
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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
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thehighladywrites · 5 months
Text
That's your mother, but she's my wife first…
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⋆⭒˚。‎♡‧₊˚ pairing: cassian x fem!reader, the inner circle mentioned
⋆⭒˚。‎♡‧₊˚ summary: 18+ nsfw, mdni, light angst, stress, smut, fluff, praise, cassian channelling his inner general, reader being an absolute sweetheart who deserves everything good in life fr
⋆⭒˚。‎♡‧₊˚ amara’s note: okay so I don’t have any kids so some parts might be inaccurate but close your eyes please🤞🏽i have nothing else to say, i just wanna fuck cassian so bad rn...
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Spilled milk, mismatched socks, wailing babies.
Gods, what you wouldn’t do for a moment of peace…
Your children were usually calm, even when they were tumbling down stairs and running into tables, but during your youngest twin kids teething phase, they developed an interest for chewing on anything. Their outburst put your two other kids in distress, making it a difficult period for everyone.
In your attempt to keep your twins safe, you unintentionally became the evil mother for denying them the joy of chewing on concrete bricks, their father’s important books and a million other dangerous things that a child simply shouldn’t be putting in their mouth. 
They had been given enchanted teething toys made out of moonstone by their uncle Rhysand, but it didn’t keep them entertained at all. Safety was apparently too boring for them.
This morning was extra rough because Cassian had to leave early for a mission, leaving you with four kids. Although the two oldest ones, 7 and 12, could get themselves ready for the day, they still needed some help with some things. You were downright in a foul mood, feeling the weight of frustration and helplessness as the twins wailed and your oldest ones argued, all while trying to keep your emotions hidden.
“ You took the last pancake, Ves!” your son angrily sliced the remains of his food as your daughter, Vesna, looked at him with anger. “ I don’t care. I told you that I wanted it and you made no move for it, Therian. Blame yourself and be quicker next time.” she bickered back. They kept arguing about that stupid pancake as you picked your twins and moved to the rocking chair across the livingroom to sooth them. The kitchen seamlessly flowed into the living room, creating an open floor plan that allowed you to effortlessly monitor Vesna and Therian.
 “ It’s okay, babies. There we go, hush now.” But it didn’t work, they kept screaming and you were at your breaking point. You felt like the worst mom ever as you looked up, took a deep breath and blinked back tears. 
You almost yearned for Cassian's return, craving the comfort of your mate's presence amid the chaos. Yet, the nagging self-doubt held you back, hesitant to burden him with your distress and feeling a twinge of selfishness in the idea of asking him to cut short his mission. Despite the internal struggle, you chose to tough it out, convincing yourself that countless women had faced similar challenges, wondering if you could measure up to their strength.
Unbeknownst to you, you had been signaling Cassian with your feelings through the bond since this morning. He was already on his way back the moment your emotions reached him. He was just in time to hear your daughter’s frustration directed towards you, though none of you had felt his presence or heard him approach your home. 
“Mom, you're seriously failing at shutting them up. It's not dragon taming to handle two kids, and it shouldn't be this painful for the rest of us. How about you take them outside and only come back when you've figured out how to keep them quiet? Because none of us can stand the noise.” You looked at her stunned as a million thoughts went through your head. Guilt, anger and self-doubt took root inside you.
 Guilt, because was she right? Anger, because she shouldn’t have spoken to you like that ever. Self-doubt, because your fears and feelings about motherhood were spoken out loud. 
Your first-born had a sour expression on her face that quickly fell before she looked down at her plate sheepishly. Maybe she felt regret? But what made her react like that instantly? Your daughter could be hotheaded and it usually took her a few hours to calm down, but not this quick. 
Looking at where she removed her eyes from, you look and see your husband, body tense and wings tucked in tightly. You felt immediate comfort and wanted to throw yourself in his arms and fucking cry. How you had missed him this much in only a few hours was a mystery. 
His boots thudded heavily against the wooden floors as he approached your embarrassed daughter. “Look at me,” was all he needed to say before Vesna reluctantly lifted her head. She knew he was going to chew her out. He clenched his jaw in anger as he looked down at her. “Your lack of empathy for what your mother is dealing with right now is astounding. Instead of criticizing, maybe you should try contributing to the solution. We're a family, and we handle things together, not by throwing blame around. She's your mother, but remember that she's my mate and wife first, and no one speaks to my mate and wife with disrespect ever, not even you. Now go ahead and apologize to her.”
Your husband, ever the general.
With teary eyes, realizing the gravity of her words, Vesna approached you. “Hey, Mommy,” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She hadn’t called you mommy in forever. “I... I shouldn't have said those things. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so harsh. I know it must be difficult and my anger took over. I really love you and I’m sorry.”
You were a bit surprised by the apology and softened your expression before replying, “It's okay, sweetheart. We all have our moments. Just remember, we're a team, and we need to support each other.” She nodded, still feeling a bit guilty, and said, “I'll try to do better. Can I help you with anything now?”
A genuine smile appeared on your face as your replied, “That would be wonderful. Let's work together to make things smoother for everyone. How about you start clearing the table and Therian picks up things from the floor.” She nodded and gave you a small kiss on the cheek before hurriedly making her way back to the kitchen table. Cassian gave her a kiss on the head and gave her a proud smile.  “I’m glad you apologized, and it takes courage to admit when we’re wrong. Let’s move forward now. Your willingness to help now means a lot. Thank you.”
Feeling the tension ease after the daughter's apology, your mate approached you. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “Hi pretty.” You look up at him with a thankful smile. “Hi lover.” He smiles right back at you. “I know it's been a rough day. I’m so proud of you, sugar. We'll get through this together. How about you go upstairs and soak in the tub while I take care of the kids.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, and wrapped his arms around the twins who had gone quiet.
Feeling reassured by Cassian’s comforting words, you smiled appreciatively. You gave him a tender kiss in thanks before scurrying upstairs, grateful for the support and unity he provided for your family. 
As you undressed, a delightful surprise caught your eye – the tub was filled, and a slice of your favorite cake awaited you on a nearby table. Gratefully, you thanked The House for the steaming tub and the unexpected treat. Stepping in, you let the heat envelop you, soothing the tension in your muscles. Time seemed to blur as you relaxed in the warm water — minutes or hours, it was hard to keep track. Exhaustion gradually overcame you, and your eyelids grew heavy in the comforting embrace of the tub, a sweet slice of cake adding to the calmness of the moment.
Entering the room, Cassian caught sight of you in the steaming tub, content and relaxed. A mixture of emotions flooded over him – admiration and a deep love that seemed to intensify in this quiet scene. He approached silently, not wanting to disturb the serene moment. Gently, he reached out to stroke your hair, his eyes reflecting the warmth and affection he felt. In that intimate moment, a silent understanding passed between you, affirming that you’d never be alone ever. You’d be there for each other and it made your heart swell. 
Curiosity lit up your eyes, you looked at your husband and asked, “Hey, where are the kids? Did you take care of them?”
A gentle smile played on his lips as he revealed, “Actually, Rhysie and Feyre picked them up. They thought we could use a quiet weekend, just the two of us. They’re taking Nyx, Ves and Theiran on a trip up the mountains but the twins are staying at the River House with Elain and Lucien. She made a special herbal blend that helps their gums, it’s all very Elain.”
Surprise and gratitude washed over you as you processed the thoughtful gesture. “That's so sweet of them, you remarked, a genuine smile forming. “A quiet day sounds perfect.” You exchanged a glance, appreciating the unexpected silence given by thoughtful friends.
“So, are we entirely alone for the entire weekend?” You attempted to conceal your smile as warmth surged in your belly upon meeting Cassian's gaze, only to discover him returning a heated look. “Indeed, sweetness. It's just you and me, alone. Whatever shall we do to pass the time?” His commanding, taunting voice always managed to drive you crazy. He had a charming voice that you could listen to forever. “I can think of a few ways…” you responded as you stood up, dripping wet. You beckoned him closer  and deeply inhaled his delicious scent. He smelled like home. Throwing your arms around him, you inched your lips closer to his, teasing him, not letting him get close enough for a real kiss. He frowned and slightly pouted. “Either give a proper kiss or I walk away.” You knew it was a false threat. Cassian wouldn’t ever leave your embrace now that he was turned on. 
But you decided to keep playing with him, wanting to see how far you could push him. 
“Yeah? Walk away then, baby.” You let your arms drop to the side, slightly tilting your head with a small smirk on your lips. You felt a surge of amusement as you observed him, jaw tight and knuckles white from clenching, meeting your gaze with defiant determination. “Stop fucking with me, y/n/n. You want me as much as I do.” It was his turn to return a mocking smirk. “ What, you think I don’t know you by now? You think I don’t know that you wanna be fucked until you can’t think straight? Little one, I have years on you. I know your body better than you. I’ll ask again. Are you going to kiss me properly or do I walk away?”
 Fucking hell. He really did know your body better than you since his words only fueled you on. While you enjoyed toying with him, it was time to throw in the towel. No way where you wasting any more time. With hands behind your back you looked up at him, doe-eyed and blushy. “I’ll give you a proper kiss, Cassie. Then please take me to bed.” He smiled down at you with a devilish smile, putting his hand on your hips as he pulled towards his warm chest. “ Whatever my baby wants, she gets.” With hands on his chest, you stood on your toes as water swished around your legs, putting your plush lips against his soft ones. 
 Careful, gentle, loving, comforting and really fucking hot.
That was all you could think of when you were kissing him. One of his warm hands roamed all over your body as his other one cupped your face, deepening the kiss. Your own hands stayed in one spot, your favorite place to put your hands. His chest. You absolutely loved touching his chest. Giving his pecs a light squeeze, resting against them, anything really. Centuries of honing his body into a weapon had made him look like a god. 
You wanted to dry off and move to your bedroom, and as if Cassian had read your thoughts, he grabbed the towel without breaking the kiss and wrapped it around you. He simply picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved to the bedroom before gently lowering you to the soft bed. Cassian caught your wrists and pinned them, crisscrossed, above your head while he settled between your legs, once again wrapping them around his waist. You kissed until your lips swelled and pulled away for air. 
He forced your legs apart, hand cupping your pussy. You let out a gasp, quickly gripping onto his broad shoulders. Cassian carefully watched your face as it contorted into pleasure when he pushed in two fingers, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let out a moan.
 “Feels good, wifey? ” Cassian asked as your nails dug into his shoulders, hips bucking into his touch. “ mhmm, yeah it feels really fucking good.” you managed to respond as you felt his fingers speed up, curling into that delicious spot that made you absolutely melt. 
He wanted to be inside of you, fuck you and ruin you all over the sheets. “ It would feel a lot better  if I had you wrapped around my cock.” He said, looking up at you through is his dark lashes, eyes full of mirth. You clenched around his fingers at the thought of him filling you up with his thick cock. It had been a while since you had been properly dicked down by him, since you two were busy with life and kids. Quickies, fingering and handjobs were all you had time for since the twins were born 6 months ago. As much as you loved your kids, you also loved alone time with your mate and it was rare these days. So of course you’d use this weekend to get fucked, and maybe that would help you relax a bit. Cassians cock had always been the answer for you. 
Mad? Get dicked down. Sad? Get dicked down. Happy? Get dicked down. 
Huh. 
No wonder you had four kids…
You nodded eagerly at him, “ Please cassie, fill me up. I really need it.” He sat up, dumped his clothes on the floor and positioned his cock infront of your throbbing core, teasing a bit. He used his fingers to scissor you open a bit. When you felt even more slick under his touch he retracted his fingers and licked your wetness off of them. He smiled at around his fingers and said, “Delicious.” Your chuckle morphed seamlessly into a moan when he slammed his lenght into you.
  He let out a sound of pleasure as he pushed himself into you. You clenched around his cock, you were so wet and slippery around him. He let out a pleased groan as he started giving you deep strokes. His pace quickened with the intention of finishing inside of you. He loved to make a mess of your pussy like that, fuck you full of his cum and watch it slowly drip out. Nothing made him more possessive than seeing his mate full of his cum. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me, I’m so proud of you, my beautiful girl.” He knew the exact words you needed today and it made you feel so emotional that he knew you this well. 
You blushed. Pleasure crept up your spine once more. Your legs were starting to shake, sweat coated your back. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you as his strokes were getting faster and faster, his lips muffling your moans. He kept up the pace, feeling the pleasure flow through his body, bringing him closer to climax. He loved the feeling of you around him.
 He was addicted to it. He was addicted to you.
You moaned and arched your back as he continued to fuck into you. You wanted to cum so badly, and as if Cassian once again read your mind, he said something that almost made you cry.
“ Don’t cum yet.”
He must have caught your annoyed stare because he looked down, sporting his usual grin, and said, “I want us to come together. You can handle that, right, pretty?” Your brows furrowed as you attempted to feign annoyance, though deep down, you weren't truly bothered at all.
 No, no you weren’t mad at all because if he was adamant about you finishing together, then you’d do everything in your power to make it happen. You got closer to him, pressing a quick kiss before deepening it as your tounges swirled around each other before you pulled away, biting his lip. He let out a groan and it only spurred you on. You pulled out all your tricks, whispering downright filthy things in his ear. That seemed to do the trick. Cassian thrusted deeper and deeper, rubbing tight circles on your neglected clit before you came in unison. 
You moaned at the feeling, warmth filled you as his pace started to slow down. Your mate collapsed on top of you and your put his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair. He remembered that he hadn’t pulled out yet but before he could you stopped him. 
“ Please baby, don’t pull out yet. It feels really warm and good and I want you in me forever.”
You felt his chest rumble with a gentle laughter. “ Whatever you want, you shall have. You did so well, sugar. I love you.” You kissed his forehead and gave him praise back. “ Thank you, baby. I’m so happy you’re here, I love you too.”
Safe to say you fucked the whole weekend, everywhere, only taking breaks for food and occasional naps. But you also basked in the intimacy of having him. by yourself. Eating together, talking about everything between the heavens and earth, cracking jokes and just enjoying yourselves. 
You and your mate, together for all eternity...
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theostrophywife · 7 months
Text
kiss with a fist | chapter one.
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masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist
pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: kiss with a fist - florence and the machine.
author's note: i'm so excited to share this series with everyone. this was literally meant to be a one shot fic but i have no self control therefore it spiraled into a whole series. without further ado, please enjoy the first chapter and let me know what you think 🤎
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Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure. 
Intelligence, knowledge, wisdom. These were the traits that Ravenclaws valued most, but if the founder of your house could see you now, Rowena Ravenclaw would probably roll over in her grave. 
Because there was nothing smart about falling in love with Theodore Nott. 
In fact, it might be the most idiotic thing you’ve ever done in your entire life. 
So why did it feel so bloody exhilarating? 
To understand your descent into madness, it was prudent to trace the events back to point zero. 
It was a rainy September afternoon, unusually dreary even for the Scottish Highlands. The first week of your return to Hogwarts had been chaotic to say the least. Between performing your prefect duties by showing the first years around the castle and dealing with the clueless third year that accidentally set off Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs in the Great Hall, you were absolutely knackered by the time Friday rolled around. 
Unfortunately, you had no time to rest. Even though the term just started, you were already spending much of your nights studying until your eyes felt like they were going to fall out of your skull. Tonight, you were in the potions laboratory tackling a particularly stubborn advanced draught. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t figure it out. 
You dropped a sprig of wormwood into the cauldron and stirred counterclockwise then clockwise, just like the recipe instructed. The concoction bubbled to the surface. Holding your breath, you peered into the mixture with hope that this try would finally turn out successful. The potion turned a vibrant magenta color before exploding all over the front of your uniform. 
Sadly, this was the closest you’d come to brewing the Angel’s Trumpet Draught. You sighed, wiping down your tie with a washcloth. It did nothing except make the mess worse. What you needed was a good old fashioned soak.
Luckily, you had access to the prefect’s bathroom on the fifth floor. During this time of night, it would be gloriously empty. Giving you the perfect opportunity to wallow in bubbles and self pity. 
The trek from the dungeons to the fifth floor was fortunately uneventful. The hallways were dark and quiet, allowing you to slink off to the bathroom in peace. With a whisper of pine fresh, the pearly gates opened.
You turned on the faucets, setting the temperature just below boiling and dispensing herbs and fragrances into the tub. When you were finally satisfied, you quickly discarded your soiled clothes and eagerly stepped into the warm bath. The scent of rosewater and pink himalayan salt instantly relaxed you. 
You sighed deeply, leaning against the marble tile and closing your eyes. This was definitely not the way you thought seventh year would go. Your last year at Hogwarts was supposed to be the highlight of your academic career. While your housemates fretted and fussed over quidditch games and blood moon balls, you refused to take your eyes off the prize.
Ever the diligent student, you had no interest in extracurriculars unless it brought you closer to your dream of becoming an accomplished potions master, which would hopefully catch the eye of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. Joining the prestigious group was a dream that you had been working towards since first year. Blood, sweat, and tears had gone towards achieving this goal, especially during your most recent break. 
You spent the entire holiday interning at the Brewery, attending lectures at the Magical Division of the University of Oxford, and you had not only completed the assigned reading for your Advanced Potions class, but Professor Slughorn’s personal recommendations as well. All of that hard work should have placed you ahead of the curve, but your class rank remained the same as always. 
Second. 
Not first.
Never first.
No, that spot belonged to that rich infuriating smartass pureblooded motherfu—
“Theodore Nott,” you said, lacing your voice with as much venom as you could muster. 
Between the pale moonstone pillars stood the source of your academic anguish. Theodore was dripping sweat, his green and silver quidditch jersey covered in mud and grime. The prefect badge pinned to his robe was barely visible, more brown than silver. His curly brown hair fell erratically across his cheekbones as he brushed a stray strand away to squint in the faint light. 
The side of his mouth quirked up into a smirk when he recognized you. “You know, most people just call me Theo.” His gaze lingered on your form, which was barely covered by pink suds. “Especially those who know me rather intimately.”
You flushed in response. Amusement danced in his watercolor eyes, which seemed brighter now thanks to his sun kissed complexion. Knowing Nott, he probably spent his summer laying out in the Italian sun while attractive witches fed him grapes by hand. You didn’t get a tan like that from holing up in the English countryside with nothing but a boiling cauldron and a dusty textbook for company. He didn’t even have the audacity to pretend like he was worried about his class ranking. The bastard. 
“Every rule has its exception, Theodore,” you gritted out. “Now get the fuck out.” 
He cocked his head, sending a mass of wavy brown locks to spill to one side. “You’re right. Most people don’t usually say my name like it’s an unforgivable, but I guess you’re special in that way, diavolina mia.”
Little devil, Nott's idea of a fond nickname, irritated you to no end. Your annoyance only made him use it more. Gods, what a wanker. 
“Are you deaf or just thick? This bathroom is occupied,” you huffed, sinking lower into the bubbles. “Leave before I scream bloody murder.” 
Theo smirked. “Oh, I guarantee you’ll be screaming.” He kicked his shoes off, leaving them in a messy pile beside your own neatly arranged boots. “Though the only thing I’ll be murdering is that pu—”
The glare you sent his way would have sent lesser men running for the Forbidden Forest. “I’m serious, Nott. I’ve had a terrible fucking day and I am not giving up the bath.” 
“Neither am I,” he countered. “Practice was brutal. I ate shit on the pitch and all I want to do is to reap my prefect benefits via bubble bath. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to learn how to share, sweetheart.”
You watched in stunned silence as he peeled off his jersey. The moonlight streamed through the glass stained windows, painting him in a surreal sort of light. There was no ounce of shame to be found in Theodore Nott as he stripped off his trousers and stood stark naked in the middle of the bathroom. 
Look away, you thought. Look the fuck away now.  
But like a moth to a flame, you found yourself horribly drawn to the cocky, arrogant, son of a bludger. His tall frame cut an imposing figure in the dark as slivers of moonlight danced across his ridiculously toned chest and well-defined abs. He was neither brawny nor scrawny, but somewhere in the middle, which unfortunately happened to be your sweet spot. 
To make matters worse, the smug prick seemed perfectly aware of your ogling. You could’ve sworn Theo flexed as he stalked towards you. Unlike most boys his age, he wasn’t awkward or bumbling. Theo was confident in his body. Too confident. 
You sighed. “Can you at least attempt to be decent?” 
“Why? It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.”
As if you needed a reminder of this ongoing tryst between you. Theo waded to your side, leaning his head back as the warm water sloshed around him. His eyes fluttered close, those thick lashes of his kissing the top of his cheekbones. Water trickled down his collarbone and you had to fight the urge to lean over and lick it off. 
“I told you, last time was—“ 
“The last time,” Theo finished. “I’m perfectly aware, principessa. You say it every time.” 
“I mean it this time.” 
He cocked his head, flashing those hypnotizing eyes at you. “Oh?” Theo drawled slowly, reaching out to brush a wayward lock of hair that had escaped from your braid. “Did my poor little Ravenclaw finally find the courage to say no to the big bad Slytherin?” 
Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips against your throat. “Fuck,” you whispered. 
“Go on then, love,” Theo hummed against your skin. He kissed the sensitive spot beneath your earlobe, making you involuntarily arch into him. Slender fingers wrapped around the base of your throat, holding you in place. “Tell me what you want, diavolina.” 
You sighed in defeat. “Stop being an asshole and kiss me, Nott.” 
Theo grabbed the back of your head and crashed his lips against yours like a man starved. After months of going without, you came to the horrid realization that you craved this as much as he did. You crawled into his lap, straddling him as he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. 
I am a stupid girl, you thought. A stupid, horny girl who had no business snogging Theodore Nott. 
One, you were bitter rivals. Two, Theo awakened a dangerous side of you that defied all logic. This whole fucked up situation started because of your lapse of judgment last winter. As always, Theo had said or done something to annoy you during class and in return you hexed his drink to taste like dragon dung. He retched for a week straight. Somehow Snape found out that you were to blame and placed both of you in detention.
One thing led to another in the potions classroom and you ended up with your skirt around your waist and Theo’s head between your legs. You quickly resolved that the only way to shut him up was to keep him occupied and occupied he was. Ever since then, the two of you had been at it like rabbits. 
You thought that you would leave all of it behind in sixth year, but barely a week into this term and you were already repeating the pattern. 
“I’ve been thinking about this all summer,” Theo groaned into your mouth. 
“That’s cute, Nott,” you responded sarcastically. “Miss me over the holidays, did you?”
Theo rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about this too. You’ve been testier than a Hungarian Horntail since the minute you got off the platform. I could tell that you haven’t been properly fucked since our little impromptu goodbye in the broom closet last spring.” 
“You’re absolutely repulsing.” 
He smirked. “Then why are you pulling me closer?” 
You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and fuck me before I change my mind.” 
“You could say please.” 
“I could,” you said with a shrug before gripping his cock and lining him up at your entrance. Theo groaned as you sank down into him with a satisfied little smirk. “But I won’t.” 
The moan that came out of his mouth barely sounded human. “Fuck,” he said, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “How do you always feel so fucking good?” 
You knew what he meant. As much as you hated to admit it, Theo was right. You hadn’t gotten properly laid since your last tryst. There had been other boys this summer, but none of them made you feel like this. Because sex with Theo wasn’t just sex. It was warfare. You fucked like you both had something to prove. 
Even now, as you grinded your hips against him, Theo thrusted upwards with equal force like you were competing for the bloody house cup. You ran your fingers through his hair, frowning a little. 
“What?” Theo asked. 
“Did you cut your hair?” 
He grinned as he trailed kisses along your jaw. “You don’t like it?”
“Less to hold onto.”
“Don’t worry dolcezza,” Theo chuckled darkly. He squeezed your thighs and pressed you against him roughly. “I’ll make sure to hold on tight for the both of us.”
You hummed in agreement before sinking down again, setting a steady rhythm as you rode him with reckless abandon. For someone who valued logic, every ounce of common sense you possessed went out the window when it came to this infuriating boy. 
Maybe you were a masochist. But as Theo thrust sharply into you, the stupid little voice in your head said that you didn’t really mind the pain. 
You moaned as Theo tilted your chin, capturing your lips with his. It was a clash of tongue and teeth as you fought for dominance, putting your bodies to the test. He knew exactly what buttons to press, which sensitive spots to hit, how to challenge you physically and mentally. 
“Gods, right there.” You whimpered, digging your fingernails into his back. Theo’s hypnotizing eyes snapped to yours, piercing through every layer until you felt even more bare than you already were. “Don’t fucking stop, please.”
He smirked. “So you do have bedside manner after all.” 
“Not for you,” you said as you grinded down hard, making Theo bite into your shoulder. 
“Salazar fucking save me,” he grunted. 
“Your founder can’t save you now, Nott.” 
“Cruel, ruthless woman.” Theo looked up at you like he was praying to the stars. His movements stilled as your gazes collided. “Tell me you missed this. Tell me that no one else makes you feel like this.” 
You whined at the loss of friction. “You’ve picked a shit time to get all sentimental on me, Nott.”
“It’s not sentiment, it’s the truth,” Theo declared, thrusting lazily. “And I want to hear you say it.” 
“Why?”
“Call it curiosity,” he said casually. “I want to know if I measure up to the boys back in Oxford.”
Not even close, you thought. But you were not about to admit that out loud. 
“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” 
Theo chuckled before sinking his teeth into your neck. “But I’m not a cat, little bird. I’m a snake and I’m coiled around you ready to strike if you say the word.” 
You shivered slightly. This constant back and forth, all the bickering and banter, was just you and Theo’s sick and twisted version of foreplay. Gods, you fucking missed it. 
“Fine,” you grumbled. “Theodore Nott, you are an infuriating little shit but you fuck like an absolute demon. I missed sneaking around with you in the broom closet, the charms classroom, the astronomy tower, and wherever else we managed to defile in this bloody castle. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 
The shiteating grin on his face almost made you want to take it all back, but then he flipped you over, laying you down on the cold marble tile and staring at you with so much lust in his eyes that you felt the depths of his desire in your core. He crawled over you, water trickling down his tanned skin. 
“Close enough,” he remarked before hiking your leg over his shoulder and burying himself so deep that you clawed the edge of the tub to keep yourself from slipping. 
The rest of it was a blur of skin on skin as Theo unleashed himself on you. His mouth, his fingers, his cock were all just tools of seduction that he wielded with lethal precision. 
The pleasure washed over you in waves, crashing again and again as he made you cum not once, not twice, but a total of three times. By the time he reached his peak, you were so exhausted that the two of you collapsed in the dark. 
You laid side by side, staring up at the domed glass ceiling in stunned silence. After a moment, Theo turned over to face you.
“So?” 
“So what?”
“Did I manage to knock that stick out of your arse?”
You rolled your eyes, pushing off the tile. “And that’s my cue to leave.”
“I’m kidding. I’m good, but I’m not that good,” Theo teased, following closely behind as you put your clothes back on. He eyed the bright magenta stain on the front of your uniform. “What happened there? Did you murder some poor unsuspecting pygmy puff?” 
“No, but I did a number on the potions lab,” you lamented with a sigh. “That stupid Angel’s Trumpet Draught is bloody impossible to brew.” 
“That old thing?” Theo asked, pulling out a fresh set of clothes from his quidditch bag. “I finished it ages ago.” 
You gaped, nearly tumbling over your own skirt. “How? I followed the recipe word for word and this disastrous stain was all I managed to achieve.”
“Sometimes you have to go off the book,” he replied. “Experiment a little.” 
“No thanks, I’d rather keep all my limbs intact.”
“I think you’re doing a rather splendid job of endangering yourself all on your own,” Theo said sarcastically. He cocked his head as you slipped on your boots. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll show you how to brew the draught in exchange for a favor.” 
You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “What kind of favor?” 
“That’s for me to decide and for you to accept.” 
“I’d rather not give an egomaniac a nuclear advantage.” 
Theo rolled his eyes. “Do you want my help or not, diavolina?” 
“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “But only because I’m desperate.” 
“Words every bloke is dying to hear.” 
Without a word, he tossed a mass of balled up fabric in your direction. “What’s this?” 
“A jumper, an article of clothing generally worn to retain warmth in colder climates,” Theo deadpanned.
“I know what a jumper is, you tosser. Why are you giving it to me?” 
“Because, you’ll get a cold walking around like that,” Theo explained with a longsuffering sigh as though you were a clueless first year. The corners of his mouth quirked up. “Plus, I can see your nipples through your blouse and as much as I enjoy the view, I doubt that flashing Filch is at the top of your bucket list.” 
“You truly are appalling,” you replied, shrugging the slightly faded jumper on. The thing was so worn that you couldn’t even make out the inscription on the front. The fabric swallowed you whole, skimming the top of your thighs. It also smelled like sea salt and smoke and boy. One boy in particular. 
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He grinned, showing off those stupid little dimples of his. “Meet me in the potions lab tomorrow. Eight o’clock sharp, just like old times. And bring a muffin.” 
“For the draught?’ 
“No, for me.” Theo said, holding the door open. “I’ll need motivation if I’m spending my Saturday morning with you.” 
You slipped into the hallway and flipped him the bird. His laughter followed you in the dark like an annoying shadow.
“See you tomorrow, my little pygmy puff!”
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Taglist: @annaisabookworm@marina468@yaraasthings @the0doreslover@bubybubsters@moony-artemis @natasha887@lucyysthings@criesinlies @bunnymallowo@niktwazny303@letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl@wordsarelife@clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar @mishtay @cherry-hoe  @littlebookbengal @maybefoxysouls @nomup  @aliensknowmyillusions
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inbarfink · 3 months
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So one of the cool and interesting ways ‘Steven Universe’ used to try and balance being both a series of 11-minutes episodes that each have their own satisfying emotional resolution and being an overarching story with complicated character arcs that take multiple seasons to resolve is the… I’m going to call it the ‘Not Quite Right Lesson’ episodes. Episodes where a character kinda learns a Very Important Lesson… but a more careful and retrospective look at the situation shows that what they learned is not Quite the Right Thing for them. They internalized something in that adventure which just ended up causing more Emotional Troubles for themselves farther down the line.
‘The Test’ is the most classic example. 
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As a standalone thing, it’s just a sweet episode about Steven learning to accept that his caretakers are also flawed and confused and figuring this shit up as they’re going along just like he is, and then doing a nice thing for their sake.
But looking back at this episode, it is quite obviously the nadir of Steven appointing himself as the Family Therapist and repressing all of his problems so he could better help the Gems’ with theirs. Like, there have been some early warning signs for this Complex, but this episode is the one that really cemented that idea in his mind and probably the reason it took him like the Entire Rest of the Show Including a Post-Finale Season to really untangle it.
But… also, I’ve been thinking a lot about the episode right after that, ‘Future Vision’. I think it’s also a very important ‘Not Quite Right Lesson Episode’ for the character of Garnet, and to some extent, the Crystal Gems as a whole. In many ways, it is to the CGs' character arcs' what 'the Test' is to Steven's.
So in this episode, Garnet reveals to Steven the fact that she has Future Vision. She hoped that telling Steven a little bit more about herself and being honest with him will lead to a greater understanding and a greater bond between them… but it backfired. It just led Steven to become a total paranoid, terrified wreck stuck in a total existential crisis.
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And it seems like the lesson Garnet learned is that… she should’ve never taken that risk at all. That it would’ve been better for everyone if she just kept Steven ignorant of the truth forever.
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Extremely reinforced with the ending of the episode, where Garnet chooses to once again hide an uncomfortable truth (that he just came very close to dying again) from Steven, for the sake of his own ‘peace of mind’.
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So, like, the Gems were already hiding uncomfortable truths from Steven since day one. “If you could only know what we really are” and all of that. But I think… With the actual truth of Homeworld encroaching on them more and more at this point of the story arc, this would’ve been a great time for the Gems to reconsider their attitude and actually Explain to Steven What the Hell is Going On. 
But instead, I think Garnet saw the events of ‘Future Vision’ as a reinforcement of the idea that there’s just some things Steven is Better Off Not Knowing. Actually being frank with him about Homeworld and the Diamonds and the War right there and then, that would have just overwhelmed Steven with fears and worries and would’ve ended up doing nothing but hurting him. And Garnet can’t accept that possibility, not again.
And so, Garnet, alongside Amethyst and Pearl, keep all these truths from Steven as long as possible. Only revealing bits of information when they have to. For Amethyst it’s about her emotionally-evasive attitude (also, she legit doesn’t know all of that stuff herself). For Pearl it’s about how she learned to romanticize Rose’s own fucked-up obsession with secrets. For Garnet, with her usually very direct attitude and preference for the most straightforward solutions, I think it’s very much the events of ‘Future Vision’ that were still playing in her head every time she had the choice to actually Explain something to Steven and decided not to. 
But that, indeed, was Not Quite the Right Lesson. While being bluntly and directly told by Garnet all about the Many Ways He Could Die caused Steven to go into an anxiety spiral and an existential crisis for an episode - the way the Gems have been consistently secretive and evasive with Steven ended up causing him so much more emotional grief to him in the long run. As all of these secrets ended up revealed to him in the most surprising, dramatic and traumatizing way possible.
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And the secretive attitudes ended up driving a wedge between Steven and the Gems. 
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Even after they promised to be more honest with him. Because the sight of Steven crying on the roof that day is one that Garnet can easily move away from. Because Garnet’s Not Quite Right Lesson was almost as difficult for her to unlearn as Steven’s own. 
But after the big confrontation at the start of the Zoo Arc, Garnet ended up being the most upfront about the Crystal Gems’ history. Almost overeager to share what she knows about the past.
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I mean also, again, Amethyst just has less to tell and Pearl is hiding secrets for reasons beyond her control - but I think it’s also important to consider from the perspective of Garnet’s arc.
Because the fallout of the Pink Diamond Reveal is very much centered around Garnet (or, well, Ruby and Sapphire). That was the Truth that was hidden from her 'for her own good'. And at the end of the day, despite all the grief that unveiling that truth has caused
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It has also brought them, all of them, a lot closer.
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There's a reason why 'the Truth' is Garnet's Final Missing Piece in the movie. It is as central to her character arc in the series as Lesbian AngstTM grief over lost love is to Pearl.
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And still, some remnants of the Trauma of 'Future Vision' remained...
After all, even the very last episode of 'Future' was centered around the Gems once again trying to hide things from Steven (at that case, their turmoil about him leaving) for his own sake
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Even though it once again just caused Steven a whole lot of grief.
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It's maybe notable that at the end of this episode, Garnet, once again, tells Steven what's waiting for him in his Future...
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ireneaesthetic · 8 days
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Pointing out little moments and details of my fav s3 scene.
choir practice scene • episode 2
this scene caught me so off guard, in the best way possible.
it only took simon's "you should do an activity you actually like" for wilhelm to drop everything and choose getting to spend more time with him!
simon's reaction at wille joining the choir was also mine: he can't believe his eyes and keeps looking back at him with the brightest smile on his face. and simon shifting wille's attention to where the song lyric is bc it's all new to him is adorable.
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wilhelm's little proud smirk between the kisses while simon is so into it: he knew and imagined simon's surprised and happy reaction to all this, but i bet he was thriving to see it up until this very moment. so he might just be thinking that he made the best choice of his life.
having to practice and wait for everyone to leave was probably torture for simon, when all he really wanted to do since wille came in was this (simon's main love language is clearly acts of service btw *cough*). he felt important, cared for, loved - and couldn't wait to reciprocate it.
also, he's holding the key chain and happens to do the middle finger with the same hand. if you look at it as a way of saying 'mind your own business' to us is quite funny.
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simon setting the rhythm and wilhelm fully going along with it. they don't even separate their lips before leaning in for another kiss - melting into it. they literally said 'no need to catch air bc we're already breathing each other in'.
simon not breaking physical contact even once. his hands are the third main character in this scene: they act like a glue for their bodies and carry so much passion. it is peak chemistry.
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going on his tiptoes to push himself as close as possible and clinging to wille for dear life is the most simon thing he's ever done. love really brings out the cuddliest version of him.
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smiling into the kisses and out of the kisses? insane of them if you ask me (i support it) (keep doing it lovers).
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wille smiling and biting his lip bc he's the one overwhelmed by simon's presence now. physical touch is his love language and he's flooded with simon's - he must feel the luckiest boyfriend on earth.
one of their greatest proofs of love has always been to provide each other's comfort by being exactly what they lack receiving from other people or what they need most of the times - it's a constant learning of how to give and take.
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they can't get enough of it: it's not even only about the kissing but more about their need to just keep pulling the other closer, leaning into each other, slowing their movements to not leg go yet but take time to touch and deeply feel instead - wille's face speaks for itself. this hug is so intimate ugh.
it's finally shown a glimpse of wille's hand on simon's back! it was always there obv but it's nice to see it more properly.
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wilhelm obsessing over simon's neck and simon who tilts his head back to make it more accessible. wille could've done it all and trace the path with kisses - simon wished - but the boy knew what he was doing!
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the way simon looks up at him and wille rubs their noses back and forth, keeping his eyes on him, gives me butterflies.
they're super affectionate and it's the easiest thing for them to do. the intimacy that comes with their whispering, their own personal space becoming one for both of them to share bc it's safer, warmer, a lot more comfortable. everything is such a manifesto of how much they genuinely adore each other - it's what makes this the it scene for me.
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their bottom lips touching are sooo *internally screaming*.
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wilhelm stands still to let simon's lips brush past his own and simon's cheek resting against wille's lips to enjoy the feeling a little longer. they look so peaceful.
it happens after wille's "i like listening to you sing": they went from "he likes it when i sing" / "i do too, don't i?" (locker room's fight in s2) to wilhelm actually telling him that listening to his voice is one of the main reasons he joined the choir. it has to be extremely special for simon to finally hear it.
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idk if it's just my mind making this up but let's pretend simon is kissing wille's neck here!
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wilhelm picking simon up by the waist to carry him elsewhere and keep the thing going more privately. that's my wille.
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can you believe this is the face of someone who's saying that he needs to go? to not miss the bus? he just looks crazy in love to me.
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wille's laugh is cute! and simon throwing his stuff on the floor bc the priority was to push his boyfriend against the lockers to make out will never not be funny.
also, @allthefakepeople once said the only thing that could've made this scene even more perfect is if simon paused when walking away and ran back to wille to steal a quick goodbye kiss - ahhh i'd have been so here for it!
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honeytonedhottie · 2 months
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embracing being alone⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🧁
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learning to be alone is such a crucial thing to learn at all times during your life, but especially during your youth. and something to understand is that sometimes, protecting your peace comes at the cost of being alone but being alone is peaceful! and not as bad as you might think that it is.
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being alone offers an opportunity for self discovery and growth and rest and relaxation and reflection and the list goes ON. being able to enjoy your own company is a SUPER power bcuz it genuinely nourishes you so much.
enjoying your own company ;
you dont have to be codependent on someone else to make yourself happy or to make yourself feel good. what fulfills you and nourishes you isnt the relationships that u have with others. although that is an amazing and fulfilling thing, the most fulfilling thing is learning yourself. being alone REPLENISHES you, its like, hydration for the soul.
dont wait on someone else to do something that you wanna do!! if u dont have anyone to go with, just go on your own. you dont have to wait on others to be happy.
practice being alone ;
go on solo dates, practice planning to do something fun and just doing it by yourself. once you start doing things alone and you see how nice it feels, you'll want to do it more bcuz its so easy to enjoy your own company, you just have to get over your fear of judgement or of being alone and learn to enjoy and embrace it.
have a spa day
learn to cook a new dish
read a book
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have a journalling session
schedule appointments for yourself
go on a long drive
some benefits of enjoying your own company ;
you can be yourself without filter
less distractions and you give yourself time to ponder and look internally
your in control of your space and your time
you can be creative and imaginative without interference
its peaceful
being your own best friend ;
treat yourself how you'd treat someone that you valued a lot. be compassionate and understanding and respectful. dont talk badly about yourself and dont be mean to/punish yourself bcuz u wouldn't do that to someone that u loved and cherished.
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dont abandon yourself in times where life can become stressful. focus on being present and dont forget your worth. your self worth and value doesn’t come from how useful you are to others, your valuable simply because you are you. a human being who is deserving of love. your worth doesnt come from how productive you are or what you’ve achieved, instead your worth is already done and your valuable because of your existence. 
coping without friends ;
everything is temporary and meaningful relationships will always find their way to you. just understand that some ppl are here temporarily and some ppl are here for a lifetime but only you are here for all of it which is why its important to be alone and be comfy with that.
not everyone is gonna like you or wanna be your friend and thats okay. it has nothing to do with you and is almost always simply because of different personalities and its not personal
brush off rejections bcuz rejection is just redirection. when you dont take everything personally you'll notice how much happier you'll be overall.
know that the meaningful relationships and connections that u crave will come!! no one is here to be alone forever so you'll meet the people who pour into you and you'll meet ppl that u can pour into and you'll be okay!!
overall, enjoying your own company does wonders for your mental and physical health and its a useful skill to learn in general because it brings so much peace from being able to sit with your thoughts.
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prettyflyforawhitelie · 2 months
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I love your Husk pieces! He's my favorite =^.^= I wanna hug the shit out of him 😆
If you have time, could you do one where Charlie planned a movie night for "bonding" lol and the reader ends up falling asleep on Husk? Everyone ships them and encourages him to confess to her? So much fluff please! Thanks hon! ^.^
A/N: This is so adorable!! Love this! I hope you enjoy! XD
Pairing: Husk x fem!Reader
“Until I Smile at You” - Husk x Reader
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After living at the Hazbin Hotel for a while, Charlie’s “trust exercises” had become less of an annoying nuisance and simply a part of daily life. Actually, they were kind of refreshing and - dare you say - fun! They ranged from trust falls and share circles to your personal favorite - movie night. Movie night happened once a week and every week the person who chose the movie rotated. This week was supposed to be Angel’s turn, but ever since he chose his movie to be the most graphic porn anybody had ever had the displeasure of seeing, he was banned from choosing the movies. Instead of Angel, the group decided to let Alastor choose. He was always a marvel, as his movies ranged from silent films to disgustingly gorey horror movies. Tonight, however, he picked a noir detective film that he enjoyed while he was still alive (not before endlessly complaining about how radio is the superior media form, though).
One thing that nobody could stand about Alastor’s movies was how much he talked during them. I guess it's because he's so used to working in radio that he cannot comprehend that maybe, just maybe, not everybody wants to hear his voice all the time. He would either explain every little detail about the leading actors or talk about a living memory that he associated with the specific scene.  This night, though, Alastor seemed so enamored by the movie that he was completely silent. You were sitting on the couch with Alastor, Angel, and Husk, and found your eyes getting slightly heavier with every passing minute. The combination of the dark room, boring movie, and precious silence was just what you needed to drift into a peaceful slumber. Slowly resting your head and body on the irresistibly soft and warm cat demon beside you, your consciousness fades in and out until your mind is finally met with sleep.
The second Husk felt your head meet his shoulder in a gentle embrace, he froze. He had only ever imagined this happening, and was nowhere near prepared for it to actually happen tonight. Despite his hard and tough facade, Husk craved nothing more than soft affection, and knowing that you trusted him enough to not disturb your slumber flattered him. He remained completely still (so as not to wake you) for more than an hour until the movie finished. Charlie, using the remote to find another movie, said, 
“Thank you guys for spending tonight with me! This was amazing! I think I’m going to put on another movie, if anybody wants to stay down here, but you’re welcome to go upstairs and go to slee-'' she is cut off when she turns around to see you asleep on Husk, practically beaming with joy. “AWWWWW-” she is cut off by Husk’s “Shh!”, partially because he is embarrassed but also because he doesn’t want you to wake up in embarrassment. This caused everybody’s attention to turn to the two of you, not quite as surprised as Charlie.
“I mean, are we shocked? He’s been fawning over Y/N ever since she moved in. Don’t shame the poor guy…” Angel says in a mocking tone.
Everyone’s eyes slightly divert, not wanting to completely show that Husk’s attraction to Y/N is anything short of obvious.
“Shut the fuck up, man” Husk replies. 
“I’m not saying that she’s told me that she likes you back… buuuuut you should definitely just tell her. Trust me.” Charlie says, literally gleaming with excitement. 
Hearing this, Husk’s insides flip, his internal monologue running wild.
‘Did she- does she- could Y/N actually like someone like me? She’s just so… perfect. I don’t deserve her. But - let’s just - don’t get your hopes up, man. This could just be Charlie being Charlie, saying shit to make people leave their comfort zones or something.’
“Alright idiots, let’s not wake her up.” he says, sighing and gently picking you up. 
“I hear a single word about this tomorrow, and I’ll kill ya.” he says, while quietly walking to your room. 
He rolls his eyes while listening to Angel making fun of him and Charlie trying earnestly to defend you guys, saying something along the lines of “But this is how Vaggie and I started to fall in love!”
Opening your door as quietly as possible, he gently places you down on your bed. Covering you with blankets, he turns to leave until he hears your soft voice call to him:
“Was all that stuff they said about you true?”
Shit. You heard? Should he deny it? Pretend he didn’t even hear you?
“What?”
Deny it is.
“The stuff that Charlie and Angel said… about you liking me. Is that true?” you ask.
“I don’t know what kind of dream you were having, but everyone was dead silent during the movie, because, yknow, bonding time or whatever.”
He was avoiding your gaze until now, hoping that you would just accept the lie and go back to sleep. Instead, when he looked at you, he was met with your disbelieving face staring right back at him. 
“Mhm.” you say sarcastically. 
Moments of awkward silence lead to Husk trying to make a quick escape, muttering goodnight and walking to your door. He’s halfway out of the doorway when he hears your voice again.
“It’s a shame, I was hoping that what they were saying was true.” you say teasingly, just loud enough for him to come back into the room.
“What did you say?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing” you reply, smugly. 
“Don’t do that.” he says, clearly intrigued but trying to seem annoyed. 
“Do what?” you say, teasingly.
“Satan, just tell me what you said. I don’t like playing games.” he says.
“Oh, but, clearly you do, if you’ve been ‘fawning’ over me since the day I've walked in,  yet.. said nothing.”
He looks - embarrassed. Almost hurt. 
“Fine, yeah, I like you. No need to rub it in and be an asshole about it, I know you don’t like me.”
You look at his diverting eyes and immediately regret your teasing tone.
“Oh, Husk, I wasn’t making fun of you, I was just being stupid. Come here.” you say, patting the spot next to you on the bed. 
He sits next to you, looking confused.
“Here.” you say, while holding his hands in yours. 
“Listen. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I’m sorry if it came across that way. I mean, obviously I like you too. Was it not clear?” you giggle. 
Husk’s eyes widened in shock.
“What- I mea- You like me? Why?” he blurts out.
“Why? Come on, don’t be dumb. You’re the funniest person I know, you’re always willing to listen to me, and you’ve never once turned me away when I needed help. And, you're truly handsome, but that’s just a bonus. You’ve made being trapped in Hell actually enjoyable, which is something that you should be proud of. I wake up everyday excited to see you, to talk to you. I just wish you would've told me that you liked me sooner (and yourself)” you say.
Husk’s eyes are glued on you like you’re the last thing he’ll ever see, like he has to memorize your every feature before he blinks. He has never been more enamored with anybody before. 
In lack of a better response, all he can blurt out is, “Thank you!?”
You giggle, a slight blush creeping up your face. 
“And you are clearly tired. How about you sleep in here tonight? We can cuddle, or talk, or just sit with each other.” you ask.
“That - That sounds great.” he says, truly letting his guard down for the first time in years. As he lays next to you, finally becoming truly comfortable, he swears that he can see a white, fuzzy hand holding a phone by the slightly-ajar door.
“Angel, if that’s you by that door right now, you’re gonna want to run.”
You can hear the spider’s screams of “I GOT IT GUYS! THE FULL VIDEO!! AHAHAHAHA!” as Husk reluctantly leaves the bed.
“Excuse me,” he says, “I’m gonna go take care of this. I’ll be back.”
As he leaves, you start to realize how you got from the couch to the bed in the first place. Smiling to yourself, you savor the fact that, though you were condemned to eternal damnation, these people that you have found could not have created a better heaven for you.
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haveyouanytime · 3 months
Note
Rick Grimes age gap smut plz?
rick grimes smut | minors + ageless blogs dni! cw: age gap (rick is in his early 40s, reader is 20), cunnilingus, penetrative sex, a bit of plot!
bye i was so nervous writing this i've never written smut before !! it’s so jarring to just say certain words but it’s embarrassing to use wattpad words 。°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°。 and i'm so so sorry this took so long anon!!!
౨ৎ daily click to help palestine 🍉
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Ever since you had found yourself in the prison after being saved from Woodbury, your eyes have always been finding themselves on Rick Grimes. You always admired him from afar as he was always busy with something-- farming with his son, balancing his daughter on his hip, talking with his friends, etc. 
The community wasn’t as visually appealing and vibrant as before in Woodbury, but the difference was noticeable with how friendly everyone truly was. Before, it was a taste of suburban life with the amount of gossip and cliques, but now it wasn’t foreign for everyone to sit at the picnic benches and eat the dinner Carol served. Tonight you sat with Tyreese and his sister, Sasha, since they had become good friends of yours. With just your luck, a few others came to join, including Rick. 
You let the others lead the conversation, falling into a timid position with her gaze on your bowl and a flutter in your heart. But as you listened to the active conversation, your eyes wandered over to Rick. You admired his dark brown hair that fell into waves down past his ears, his scruff that fell below his cheekbone and framed his jawline, and his eyes that matched the sky on a clear, sunny day. He picks at his plate as he listens from his spot down and across the table, his eyes flickering due to the itching feeling he felt of being watched. 
His baby blue eyes caught your observations, meeting yours and making your breath stop and heart race. Your eyes widen and you pretend that your bowl is of much more interest, but his eyes stay on you for a few more seconds. Not long after, you excused yourself and your half-eaten bowl, deciding to call it a night before anyone noticed your and Rick’s interaction or how your cheeks burned afterward. 
After dinner, you went up to one of the empty watch towers. It was always empty and had become one of your favorite spots for peace and quiet. You always left a few blankets up here for the nights you wanted to sleep looking at the stars, and tonight you a few of them out with the same intentions. You sighed while looking up at the dark sky, trying to wash away any nerves you felt during the dinner, but baby blue eyes always seemed to pop back into your memory. 
Suddenly, there was the sound of the door creaking open and boots clicking against the cold concrete floor. You turned, seeing the man that consumed your thoughts. You swallowed the lump in your throat, giving him a soft smile. “Hi.” 
He gives a small grin back, slowly walking towards you with his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Hey. I, uh… I always see you up here. I was wonderin’ if you wouldn’t mind some company.” 
“I don’t mind.” You take a step over, letting him stand beside you. He mimics your position, leaning forward and resting his forearms against the flat surface of the open window. A silence falls over you two, only the sounds of trees brustling in the distance, faint chatter of people still having dinner, and the faint groans of walkers that you push aside internally. 
“If you don’t mind me askin’,” He slowly starts, interrupting the serene silence with his deep Southern drawl, “Why were you starin’ at me durin’ dinner?” 
You tense up, hesitating. You can’t seem to look at him, but a wave of confidence washes over you as you answer with a soft voice, “Well… I guess… because I like you.” 
He seems just as caught off guard as you were before, and you can feel his gaze turn to you and trace along your profile. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as his gaze falls to his forearms that lean against the open window. “I dunno. Ain’t you a bit… young for me?” 
“I don’t think so.” You softly respond, turning to face him and watching his reaction with a gentle gaze. A part of you was hoping he wouldn’t have brought it up-- you weren’t dumb, you knew you were barely 20 while he was in his 40s. “Does it matter?” 
He raised an eyebrow, a scoff passing his lips like an airy laugh, “Well, of course, it matters. You’re not mature enough. What would people say about me with a girl that’s young enough to be with my daughter? How would they know you’re the one who made the first move if they see me walking around with a girl half my age?” “Don’t say that. I’m not a baby. I’m an adult. I’m mature.” Your brows furrow, your hands moving to toy with the hem of your shirt, “And it doesn’t matter what they think. People talk and gossip, but if they’re honest, they’ll ask for the truth.” 
He stares into your eyes, a sigh laced with frustration huffing from his nose. “Look. This ain’t right. It ain’t normal. And I can’t be seen as one of those old men who chase after girls like you.” 
Your lips press together as his words echo in your mind. Rick can’t tear his eyes away from yours, especially as your sadness was evident in the way they twinkled with the moonlight. “You… you really don’t see anything with me?” 
His frown deepens, shaking his head as his gaze turns back to his hands. “No. Not like that. Look, I’m not gonna lie-- sometimes, I think you’re attractive. But… it’s just… I’m so much older than you. How could this ever work out?” 
You think, your eyes flickering back out towards the tree-covered horizon as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. When you do finally speak, you turn your gaze back towards him with your voice soft, barely above a whisper, “If you can’t give in and see anything with me, then just give in one night. That’s all I’m asking for.” 
He hesitates, his eyes slowly wandering back to you and down to your lips. You were persistent, that was for sure. "What if I agree to it? What then? Where would this one night lead to?
“I don’t know.” You softly answer, your brows furrowed slightly. “If you still don’t want anything with me after, I’ll leave you alone. Please, just… give me one chance.” 
He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. The offer was tempting, he could admit that, especially as he searched for gaze for any sign of malice behind your offer. Instead, he got lost in your beauty, reminding himself of every reason he fell for you in the first place. “Alright. You get your one night. That’s it. Deal?” 
You only nod in response, your words caught in your throat as your confidence from before disappears at his agreement. Rick suddenly takes a step closer, pulling you into his arms. Your lips parted in surprise as you softly gasped, your hands pressed against his chest. “If we’re doing this, it has to be special. That’s all I’m saying. It can’t be some ordinary fling. I ain’t your average 40-year-old dad, you know me. I’ll make sure you never forget me.”
His hand travels down to your hip, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt so his fingers lightly brush against your skin. His voice is low, a smirk pulling the corner of his lips as he continues, “How does that sound, sweetheart?  A night to remember?” 
You nod again, your eyes flickering back and forth from his eyes to his lips. You whisper, “Please…” Rick leans in, closing the gap between you two. As your lips finally connected, he couldn’t help but admit to himself how much he enjoyed it. Your soft lips, your gentle touch, the way you leaned into him; he felt something stirring within him, an itching feeling he couldn’t give you up after one night. 
You felt yourself melt into the kiss, his lips against yours being just as you had imagined it so many times before. His hands wander to the curve of your waist, his palms against your skin as the fabric bunches up at his wrists. Just as you feel yourself beginning to get lost in the touch of his lips and hands, his mouth slowly trailed down to your jawline, placing warm kisses down to your neck. His breath is hot against your skin, each kiss sending a shiver down your spine. 
You can’t stop yourself from letting out a soft, airy moan, your brows furrowing as you grip his biceps. His hand moves to your back, the other moving to the back of your thighs. He helps you down so you lie on your back atop the blankets you had left before, a small shiver running down your spine as the blankets were cold against the concrete floor. He brushes his fingers along your arms to feel the goosebumps that formed, moving so he knelt between your legs. 
“Relax, darlin’. Let me take care of you.” He lowly spoke, his blue eyes twinkling with the moonlight that peeked in through the window. He helps you slide your boots off, then your jeans. He groans at the sight of just the thin fabric covering your center, his hands slowly sliding up from your calf to your knee. He kneels before you, slowly spreading your legs apart with his large hands on your kneecaps. 
You whimper as the cold air nips at your exposed skin, his hands warm against your legs. He leans down, placing soft kisses on the inside of both your knees before slowly trailing them down your thighs, his stubble brushing against your soft skin. He kissed your mound through your panties, getting a small taste of your wetness and making you softly moan. Your hand moved to rest in his dark hair as he made out with your pussy, sending vibrations as he groaned into the thin cloth separating his mouth and your folds. 
His hands crept up as he continued, sliding under the hem on either side of your hips to slowly work the white fabric down your legs. He groaned lowly at the sight of your wet pussy, discarding your panties haphazardly as he leaned in to kiss along the crevices of your thighs. You whimpered in response, your legs tightening slightly as he purposefully avoided your aching cunt. It quickly turned into a loud moan and a tug at his roots, however, as he finally leaned in, tracing a line with his tongue up your folds. 
He began to suck on your clit, his nose pressing against your abdomen as he kneaded his fingers into your soft thighs to keep them spread. His blue eyes kept their burning gaze on yours, watching and enjoying every reaction you gave. You had had boyfriends in the past, a few in college who showed you a good time-- but God, they hardly were boys compared to the man between your legs. 
You whined, covering your mouth with your hand as he wrapped his arms around your legs, keeping them spread and preventing any writhing. You were slowly reaching your orgasm, your back arching and your chest rising and falling in staccatos with your shallow breathing as the muscles in your thighs tensed under your grasp. Just as you feel the band snap within your abdomen and your head falls back against the blankets as you moan, lewd slurping noises fill the room as Rick devoured like a man starved. 
You panted, catching your breath as you came down from your high, as you felt Rick begin to kiss up your stomach. He pushed up your shirt, helping you slip it off over your head. You sat up, your hands working on undoing the buttons on his shirt from the bottom up. Your hands brushed against his chest as you did, and as he pushed the beige fabric off his shoulders, you sighed at the sight. He had soft muscles, the fair skin covered in a bit of hair, especially his upper chest. 
But the one thing that pulled your attention away from his body or looking up to admire his face again was the strain you saw in his dark jeans. Your hands moved to undo his belt, the clinking sound adding to the tension and excitement between the two of you. With your bottom lip between your teeth, you undid his button and zipper, helping him push his pants and boxers off, exposing him to you. You take him in your hand and stroke, making him groan as he felt heavy and warm in your hand. Just as you move down to take him into your mouth, his hand moves to cup the side of your face. 
“No, no, can’t wait any longer, darlin’.” He grunts, leading you again so you lie on your back. Now he laid atop you, allowing him to connect your lips again. You moved to unclip your bra, slipping it off and tossing it somewhere in the room. Now, as you wrapped your arms around his neck to kiss him back with just as much fervor, you whimpered as you felt your sensitive buds press against his chest. He couldn’t help but move his hips as you made out, pushing his cock between your folds and against your clit. 
You whined against his lips, tugging lightly on the dark hairs at the nape of his neck, “Please, Rick, stop teasing…” 
He quickly gave in, placing one kiss on your cheek before leaning onto his elbow, using his free hand to adjust himself so he pressed against your entrance. He slowly pushed in, watching your reaction. You whimpered and softly moaned, grabbing onto his back as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. Your soft noises mixed with his panting, echoing in the empty watchtower as he slowly began to move his hips back. 
He groaned as he found a slow rhythm, his hands moving to the back of your knees to hold your legs spread apart. He felt your nails scratch along his biceps, your head thrown back to expose your neck to him. Taking advantage of that, he leaned in, placing warm kisses and small bites along your neck. You both were intoxicated by the feeling of one another, not caring about a single thing other than being together and moving in a slow rhythm. 
As you felt your orgasm begin to approach again, your whimpers turned into moans as you clung to Rick. He grunted at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, one of his hands moving so his thumb rubbed against your clit. You gasped and moaned at the added stimulation, quickly becoming undone around Rick. As you moaned and clawed at his back, your back arching off the blankets as the band in your abdomen snapped again. 
“Fuck, darlin’,” Rick moaned, watching as you came under him. Just the sight alone pushed him closer to his orgasm, making him pick up the pace of his hips slightly as he chased the feeling. The quickening pace mixed with the feeling of your passing orgasm made you whimper, overstimulation making you feel fuzzy around Rick’s cock moving in and out of your passage. 
He grunted as he quickly pulled himself out, finishing on your abdomen. He panted, his blue eyes stuck on the image before him-- you lying in a dazed, angelic state. He grabbed one of the unused blankets, wiping your abdomen before tossing it away. He sighed, moving so he lay down beside you on his back. 
As you both softly panted, staring up at the plain gray ceiling of the watchtower. It was silent again, save for the sound of nature and gravel underfoot in the distance. You turned over, looking into his blue eyes again, whispering, “Stay the night?” He nodded, giving a small smile while not moving as you grabbed a blanket, pulling over you two. He pulled you into his side, letting you tuck your head against his chest. Just as you lay beside him, soft and warm, he knew he couldn’t give you up after one night.
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yan-lorkai · 3 months
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Hi! If it’s alright, could I request yandere Idia with a darling that uses his hair like a heated blanket? It just looks like it would be warm and comfy to cuddle up with.
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ His hair is made of fire. A fire that doesn't burn if you touch it, but is just as hot. Normally he wouldn't let people touch his hair, be it to brush and style it or, as you suggest, for it to serve as a heated blanket. But... But since you're the one asking, it's obvious that his answer is positive! You can do whatever you want with his hair and he would let you.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Still the ends of his hair turn pink as you wrap yourself around it, his long blue hair falling down your shoulders and back perfectly as you rest your face resting on his neck, smelling the shampoo and conditioner he uses. His shy, trembling hand rests on your shoulder, hesitant to pull you closer or do nothing. Whatever he does, know that he is extremely happy with how close you are, internally he is celebrating as if he has the world in his hands.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ If you're still in the early stages of dating, Idia is even shyer about it. The same applies if what you have is just friendship. But over time he gets used to this habit of yours and finds it almost insulting when you don't ask or show that you want to wrap his hair around you as usual. He himself wraps you in his hair if you take too long.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ You cuddle when you come to have your almost daily sleepovers on his room and watch animes or play games. Your fingers twirling his locks and making little braids in his hair. It's peaceful, calm to bask in each other's presence and feel how close you are. Sometimes he works the necessary courage to leave little kisses all over your face and you do the same to him.
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ But gods forbid him to see you asking another long haired person if you could use their hair as blanket because he'll turn their life into hell, he'll leak their messages, phone number and embarrassing moments to everyone see. And then he takes you to another cuddling session, one much more needier and time consuming where he needs your reassure that you loves only him.
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verysium · 4 months
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PLEASE DO BLUE LOCK ICKS IM BEGGING🙏😭🌹
😏 coming right up anon. gonna channel my inner critic and not hold back on any of these.
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RIN
brother complex. not much else to say except that he needs to get a life. not everything is about metaphorically crushing your older brother's dreams and brooding in the dark hate of retribution.
competitive but only because he is a desperate whore for external validation. ignores everyone but craves the attention of a sole person named sae itoshi. was defeated by isagi once and has never let go of it since. has a one-track mind that is impossible to derail. stubborn when he wants to be.
probably a virgin and will continue to be one until his late 30s.
has not known a single day of peace ever since sae ditched him for the popular girlies. as a result, he has developed a very concerning case of social awkwardness. his idea of a conversation involves a brick wall and thirty minutes of you staring at his resting bitch face. constantly looks like that one grumpy cat meme. judges you for your poor decisions but then gets aggressively defensive when you point out his own mistakes.
reeks of so much teen angst that even metallica can't save him. the problem is that he has nothing to back up his emo persona. his insults lack creativity and, unfortunately for him, phrases like "lukewarm" and "half-baked" and "hell" do not make his words carry more weight. uses the f-word but in the most embarrassing context that it makes you facepalm and internally cringe.
SAE
zero social awareness. this boy's head is empty. the lights are not on up there. there are no picture frames or furniture. the curtains are drawn, and there is not a sliver of clouds or sunshine. cannot read body language and does not know what a filter is.
the source of all of rin's stress. he is the original trauma projector, creator of generational cycles. not even subtle about it. "turns out i was wrong. i thought japan was incapable of ever giving birth to decent forwards." sir....with the way you worded that, you knew exactly what you were doing when you gave rin false hope.
swears but it's even worse than his brother. literally called his elders a "fatso and bob cut duo" and "insect turd." i mean....there is a line between what is considered a legitimate burn and what is a first grader making up insults in his coloring book.
has a horrible haircut and no fashion taste. i already talked about this previously, but it was so bad it deserved a second mention.
a freak but tries to justify it rationally. like what do you mean you can tell a person's athletic ability from their buttock size? just admit you have a kinky fetish already.
somewhat of a coward but i'm gonna give him some leniency due to his tragic child genius backstory. tbh he's just an eighteen-year-old boy who needs a goddamn break.
KAISER
alexa please play clown music. this man sets himself for failure and then wallows in self-pity when he actually fails. like what did you expect? you knew what was going to happen the moment you challenged isagi like that. it was most definitely your fault you got violently humbled.
has a borderline god complex (currently calls himself an emperor but has not evolved into a deity yet.) unfortunately, he does not stand on business. cue the dramatic meltdowns when he realizes there is an actual gap between his ability and his reputation. if you're going to lie, at least make it believable.
insecure and mentally unstable. he probably cuts and re-dyes his hair every single time shit happens. no wonder his locks get shorter every time.
lazy when it comes to anything that is not football and expects others to do it for him. demands princess treatment wherever he goes. unfortunately, not all of us have servants with no self-respect like ness.
"it is not enough that i should succeed, others should fail" type of person.
does not wear shoes and even if he does, it's sandals. put them grippers away.
NAGI
a literal sloth who has so much potential but uses none of it. has no intrinsic motivation of his own, so if he's going to do anything, it has to be you behind the wheel, making sure he gets put to work.
does not have a close relationship with his parents, and so he has no sense of community, holidays, or traditions. no fun at all if you want him to do things like christmas shopping or birthday celebrations.
rots in bed all day and then has to nerve to ask you to carry him around. your back better be strong because his 190 cm body is not going to be light.
not loyal (need i say more.)
REO
second male lead syndrome. also known as that one popular guy who's always picked last.
acts like a victim but then when you realistically tell him to how to change his situation he refuses to do so. you cannot ask for advice and then take none of it to heart. no wonder you're still not over your ex.
"i can fix him" mentality. no, you can't. you are a seventeen-year-old child, not a licensed therapist and nagi isn't even all that.
NESS
touch-starved to the point he will stay in a toxic and abusive relationship in order to gain some scrap of affection. just because you were the black sheep of your family does not mean you can lose all sense of personal dignity.
probably stalks all the people he hates. has a burn book like regina george from mean girls. cuts out and glues little pictures of kaiser all over his bedroom. doodles hearts all over it with glittery gel pen. isagi's face and name are scratched out of every team photo.
delusional and prone to mood swings. medicated but at this point, he is beyond saving.
ISAGI
a home wrecker. has ruined more relationships than he can count on ten fingers yet still manages to smile like he's some angelic saint.
solves jigsaw puzzles for a living (not very cool if you ask me.)
has some unresolved anger management issues. probably repressed all his negative feelings when he was younger, so it all comes out when he's on the field. unfortunately, his twilight-sparkle-friendship-is-magic agenda is not going to work if he keeps cussing out his teammates like that. but then again, he is the main character, so i guess his plot armor makes up for his pitfalls.
says that he's a good guy but then holds personal vendettas against rivals he doesn't like. boy was so ready to throw hands when #kaisagi was trending on the internet. but when you actually think about, he's similar to kaiser in more ways than he'd like to admit.
BAROU
has the worst case of high and mighty "holier-than-thou" attitude. isagi put his ego in check, but it still peeks out from time to time.
he was the ugliest baby when he was born. i am not going to hold back on the child barou slander because it is true. no, he was not a cute and lovable bundle of joy. he looked like a demonic gremlin.
he needs to take more risks in life and try cross-dressing. simply imagining him in a maid uniform will not suffice. it needs to be made into a reality.
with how nit-picky he is, i doubt people can realistically stay within a 1-meter radius around him. unless you are a clean freak yourself, his constant complaints will start to get annoying after a time. even if he does have good intentions, he needs to let people have a little breathing room sometimes. a messy room is not going to kill you.
BACHIRA
this boy's brain is smooth. no folds. no gray matter. no intelligence either. his pencil and eraser have been left untouched since day one. if he wasn't crazily good at football, he would be unemployed and homeless in the future. not even a mcdonald's wants him.
one of those people who will do the literal opposite of whatever you say. you want him to stop talking? well, now he's never going to shut up. you tell him not to step on a pile of dog shit? well, now he's going to walk right into it. you want him to quit running around and act normal? well, now it's his life's mission to make you as annoyed as possible. please pray for your hair follicles because at the end of the day, you're not going to have many left with how much he makes you want to tear your hair out.
has the cerebral capacity of a toddler. if he thinks monsters are real, he's going to think anything is real. super gullible when it comes to any form of scam, ploy, or trickery. the only way he would not be fooled is if he's also played the same prank before.
SHIDOU
a brazen pervert. says the most out-of-pocket things and refuses to apologize for them. sometimes it comes out a little too sleazy for your liking.
"to me a goal is fertilization! a shot is the seed and the goal is the egg!! and the birth of that joy i call an explosion!! my genes are gonna knock you up!" let us give ourselves a moment of silence to digest this quote. only shidou ryusei would come up with a sperm and egg metaphor to describe football. (i guess protection means nothing to him.)
has no empathy. if you dislike him or cannot keep up with him, you're a literal nobody in his books. no sportsmanship. no compassion. no self-awareness.
you cannot say "balls" to him in a serious tone without him misinterpreting it as something dirty. that alone should tell you enough. stay the hell away from him.
where do men get the audacity? right here. from this little bastard. he invented the term "shameless slut." boy was getting off during the u-20 arc and on live TV too. no wonder sae said he was disgusting.
and finally, he comes from a long line of cockroaches. he's even got the antennae to prove it.
i think this might have been a little excessive, but i have no regrets about it. you're welcome anon ♡
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creedslove · 11 months
Text
SLEEP BLISS 💤
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Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: you and Joel used to share a sleeping bag when you were on the road. Once you got to Jackson, he made sure to put an end to this habit, but now his nightmares are back to haunt him again and he needs your help
Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of smut, mentions of masturbation, probably out of character Joel but I don't care I just want my big bear Joel to be happy and safe
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As Joel stood at the door watching you get ready for bed, he scratched down his neck while he felt so stupid.
But it wasn't just a feeling, he was stupid. That was the problem.
You took a while to notice him there, he'd been extremely silent and several times he thought of giving up that idea. He had an internal battle going on, so ashamed of asking you that, but at the same time he really needed it.
You saw him standing there, dark circles around his eyes, he looked exhausted and even a shade paler if someone asked and you knew exactly why.
The nightmares were back.
It pained you to think of how much he suffered to get something simple such as a night's sleep, you also had nightmares of your own, everyone did in an apocalyptic world like the one you lived in, but you just knew Joel's were somehow worse. He was tortured by his own subconscious, everything all at once, all his memories, regrets, broken dreams, broken promises, broken heart.
He often mumbled Sarah's name during his sleep, and it was followed by whimpers, the ones Joel would never let out in front of anyone, not while awake.
And you knew that because you watched his suffering for the last couple of months.
While traveling together to Jackson, you two ended up sleeping together.
Sleeping and sleeping only.
Never had sex, Joel never touched you in that way, despite a few occasional boners you felt poking your back when you woke up, but you couldn't really blame him for a good old morning wood.
You wouldn't deny you wanted Joel to touch you in that way, but you knew he wouldn't. He was a distant guy, no matter if you two knew each other since the QZ and went through a lot together, he always kept to himself, and you knew better than to push his buttons.
You cared for him, and he cared for you, but he wasn't that kind of guy and he was old enough to know that if he crossed the line, things would be an even bigger mess than they were.
He decided to share the sleeping bag with you when you were both out in the open and he couldn't stand you chattering your teeth all the time, how you tried warming your hands and how you had to place sweater over sweater and still you couldn't warm up enough to sleep.
He'd never seen that before. Even during summer nights, when the breeze cooled down, you still had chills and needed a blanket.
He tried to tell himself that the situation pissed him off, but in fact, it made him sad. He didn't like seeing you suffering and decided to keep you warm.
What was supposed to be one night, became two, three, four… and it lasted through the whole trip.
Joel's plan was to never repeat that again, but when he fell asleep that night, he didn't have any nightmares.
And neither during the other nights you slept together.
As much as he enjoyed having a peaceful slumber, he also saw how flushed and giggly you were when you woke up.
How you rested your hands on his when he held you and how before bed you always rested your hands way too close to the waist of his jeans. You were a lot younger than him, but you were a woman nonetheless and a beautiful one at that matter, and it was easy to get tempted.
And that was why, the first thing he did when you both arrived in Jackson, was to put an end to this dangerous habit.
At first, he didn't even want to share a house with you, and he rudely suggested that you find a place on your own.
You'd looked at him with sad, disappointed eyes, but agreed.
However, Joel went soft and when he saw you were packing your bags, he apologized and said he'd prefer to have you there, for safety matters, he quickly added, but stood by the decision of you having your own room.
You respected his decision, you couldn't complain and you also enjoyed having your own bedroom, you could decorate it as you pleased, have your own privacy and God knew how much you needed it when the memories of the nights you spent curled up to him, hit you hard and you had no other solution than to bury your fingers deep inside of your aching cunt and pretend it were his instead.
You didn't question him, but each passing day you noticed how he got darker circles around his eyes and at night you always heard his heavy steps pacing around the house, unable to sleep.
You wouldn't deny him help, but you wouldn't offer it either, the fear of getting a hurtful reply was bigger, besides, it was his decision to take his distance and you couldn't lie at the fact that you did feel hurt.
You finally raised your eyes at him and saw the discomfort in his face, you could swear he had made up his mind to talk to you about just to give up and then decide to do it all over again. He was a proud man and that must've been a terrible situation for him.
"Do you wanna sleep here tonight?" You broke the silence, knowing it would only take him just a couple of seconds more to give up and go back to his room, but you didn't want that, you wanted Joel there, you wanted to feel his weight, his warmth and his rough, big hands.
"I-uh…" he started with awkwardness though he saw it was pointless to lie "yes…" he was ready to get in bed when you told him to stop.
"If you want to sleep here, it will be on my terms, Joel… Undress!"
"What the fuck, Y/N?" He immediately replied, looking at you rather shocked.
"Joel, come on… we're not on the road anymore, we're safe, we're sleeping in a warm bed, it's not like we need to be in our jeans in case we gotta get up in the middle of the night to run or fight" you explained him when quickly got rid of your shorts, standing only in a loose shirt and your panties.
Joel swallowed hard and didn't even try to hide when he checked your body out, you felt a soft flush spreading across your cheek but smiled "it's nothing we haven't seen when we were bathing in the lake" you reminded him.
If he wasn't so exhausted he could've just argued and told you to fuck off, but instead, Joel got rid of his shirt at first, revealing his broad chest, strong arms that unblocked his belt and dragged his jeans to the floor, until he was standing there in his boxers only.
If he hadn't been embarrassed to look at you, you certainly wouldn't be embarrassed to look at him, and you did it, for quite a while, eyes lingering especially on his crotch, where you could swear you could see the shape of his cock.
You didn't look him in the eyes though, instead, you got under the covers and waited for him to do the same.
Joel let out a groan once his body met the comfortable mattress and covered himself.
You scooter closer and snaked your arm around his waist
"Relax Joel, it's just me," you reminded him. You relaxed as you rested your head on his chest and kept rubbing his naked skin with circular movements, massaging his tense arms.
"The nightmares are back, you know…" he said embarrassedly "I didn't want to bother you, but I can only sleep decently when you're around" you were shocked at his confession, Joel wasn't one to talk about stuff like that, but you understand he probably didn't care at all at how exhausted he was.
"You smell good, darling… you always did, even when we were on the road…" he smiled gently at you, which made your heart beat faster, you cupped his face and traced his jawline with the tip of your fingers.
Suddenly, all the anger and hurt you felt when Joel told you to take another room faded and you smiled, nuzzling his neck gently and stroking his soft, curly hair.
"Sleep Joel" you whispered to him, pressing a kiss on his forehead.
Slowly you could feel the tension in his body dissolving and he drifted off to sleep.
In the early morning, you woke up to Joel clung tight to you. You had your back to his chest, his heavy arm on your hips, preventing you from getting up. You gasped the moment you realized what was poking your back was his erection.
Alright, his boner was definitely harder to ignore without the thickness of his jeans shielding it, but you didn't complain at all, it felt so good to feel him that way.
You could've got up to make you and Joel breakfast, but you gave up, closing your eyes and snuggling, going back to sleep in Joel's arms.
_____
A/N: idk i just love Joel
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chrisevansonly · 5 months
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𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: charles leclerc x female reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: life is too heavy to carry, thankfully your boyfriend will carry it with you
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: talks of mental health and suicidal thoughts, mentions of depression, heavy topics so please read at your own discretion
𝐚/𝐧: i’ll be honest this is self indulgent and i know i said i wasn’t writing but idk i feel so low and thought writing about how im feeling might help? ive struggled with mental illness my whole life so i find writing it out in a way i can enjoy helps…i hope it helps others that are in need of it too<3
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Life is painful, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, it’s dark and gloomy, heavy and hard to carry, life is painful. Okay well maybe not for everyone but for you it was, and it was draining, exhausting really trying to survive each day instead of living like everyone else. Truth be told you’d struggled with mental illness for as long as you can remember. In high school the suicidal thoughts came into play and you had fallen into a place no one deserved to fall.
You’d hear people tell you to smile, cheer up, get outside and take in the fresh air, but they don’t understand. They don’t get the internal pain one feels when they deal with depression and anxiety, unless you live it: you don’t get it.
So yes, life was painful but there was an ounce of sunshine in your life and it came in the form of Charles, your boyfriend of exactly three years. The man who broke through the storm to bring you blue skies and calm waters, the man who held you tightly as you cried for a break, aching for a moment of peace within yourself. Charles was a gift, you were sure of it: he was too.
“my love…?”
His voice was soft, delicate as it filtered through the dark bedroom, eyes filled with concern as he looked at you huddled under the blankets, almost willing them to swallow you whole
“hmm?”
It might not have been a word but Charles would take it
“can I get you anything? do you need something?”
The room fell silent again except for the sound of covers shifting, your head peaking over the duvet
“y-you please”
Hearing your voice break was enough for Charles to promptly move from his place in the doorway, lifting up the covers on his side of the bed before settling down and pulling you into his side, letting you virtually melt against him
“okay, okay i’m here, it’s okay amour..”
“it-it hurts”
“i know baby, i know it does…but it will only hurt for a little, i promise you.”
You wanted to believe him, you really did, but how many years would you have to suffer before it truly felt like you would never know how to feel okay.
“it’s hard to be here”
Now this caught Charles attention right away, having known your past with depression and even suicidal thoughts, he felt his blood run cold at the thought of you being anywhere than right here with him
“listen to me baby, i know it hurts, i know it’s hard, but i promise you i will help you find your sunshine, i will help you find your happiness”
He paused shifting to rest a hand on your cheek, his thumb swiping at a stray tear on your cheek
“i love you with everything in me, and i will do whatever i can to help you through this, if you need me to carry more of the weight, let me, if you need a shoulder to lean on more than usual, do it. you are my entire world baby, i won’t ever leave you out in the dark to take this on all on your own..”
Letting out a soft sniffle you looked up at him, always appreciating just how much love he held for you in his eyes alone
“why, i-i’m so sad a-all the time”
“because i love you. it doesn’t matter if your angry, happy, sad it’s part of you, i love all of you no matter what, and i am not going anywhere”
Charles leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead letting you have a minute to just digest everything he was saying
“pinky promise?” you asked softly, holding your pinky finger out which brought a soft smile to his face
“pinky promise baby, always.”
Nothing else needed to be said as you curled yourself further into his side, his arms only tightening on you, as if to keep you from slipping away from him. Charles knew words only helped so much, but he was willing to do whatever it took to bring you blue skies back. Even if it took days or weeks, even months, Charles was going to be right beside you, every step of the way.
Life might be painful, but you never had to go through it alone again.
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carionto · 7 months
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"OMG, that's so cool! We want one."
The United Federation have unveiled a monstrosity.
On the border before the Neutral Zone, a barren planet now has a new moon. Upon closer inspection, it was indeed a moon, but also not. When it turned, we saw an abomination of a surface. Innumerable laser batteries, shield generators embedded within the core of the planetoid, endless rows of mass printers, underground hangars, and a constant supply of fresh pilots and crew from their subservient races.
The Galactic Coalition are not at war with them, currently, but this kind of provocation cannot go unanswered! We debated long into several cycles before the Human delegates joined us. They took one look at the images of the Federation Battle Moon and exclaimed all at once:
"Holy shit!" "That's awesome!" "It looks like a giant face!" "With GUNS!" "Fuckin' rad." "I want one!" "Yeah, same." "Can we build that?" "I dunno, probably?" "Quick, get the engineers!" "Right on!"
"Sorry, but we gotta show this to everyone, we'll be right back."
In a flurry of motion and excitement, the Humans left to contact the rest of Humanity. Their comments in the blur of the moment gradually filter through to us and we begin to worry. This Battle Moon is the largest structure anyone has ever built! Well, that is until the Humans finish their Planetary Warp Gate and Dyson Sphere...
Okay, the largest military structure. We suspect that will soon change though.
---[Aboard the Department of Strategy (Space Pentagon)]---
"Message from the Coalition delegate team, the Joint Chiefs have to see this."
As the message plays and the Joint Chiefs examine the documents, a variety of expressions hide deep internal thoughts and deliberations. Here they sit, the fifteen people responsible for all of Humanity's decisions and matters of import regarding our expansion and existence on the Galactic stage. Once silence began to reign, Grand Admiral Ekaterina is the first to stand and speak up:
"This is certainly an impressive display on the Federation's part, and further solidifies their stance as a likely aggressor. Given what we know, there is little chance for a diplomatic solution and a long-term peaceful coexistence. Thus, only two questions remain:
Which moon are we gonna use? And what's our Battle Moon gonna look like? I vote giant skull with horns!"
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coralinnii · 1 year
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I love the villain scorned by the world feat: Leona genre: budding romance note: continuation of the sequel to Villain/ess au Leona’s ver., not gender-specific reader, no pronouns used, established political relationship, Leona and reader are adults, roughly 1.5k word count, reader is interpreted as extremely ticklish,
Series masterlist
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The Royal couple is in trouble!
No, not the King and Queen. And you and Leona are not really in danger, nor are you breaking up or anything…ok no one is really in trouble.
But there’s definitely some tension between the newlywed couple as the servants fear the honeymoon phase has finally fizzled (though you wanted to argue that there never was such a phase to begin with).
First, it started with the lover’s quarrel (the lovers part is also debatable, you muttered) the day Leona revealed fresh scratch marks on his shoulders and chest. The knights recalled the frustration and embarrassment on your face when you verbally tore into Leona over the marks, yelling at the young prince how humiliating it was that King Farena himself had to mention it.
Leona’s words didn’t help your ire, casually replying, “I couldn’t care less what my brother or anybody says about me or our relationship, and neither should you”
Unfortunately for him, you don’t agree with that as you left the training grounds right after calling him a “tactless housecat”. The knights kept their awe for you internally so as to not get caught by the stunned prince. No one but you could ever call Leona Kingscholar that and leave unscathed. Kudos to you
Since then, you have avoided your shared bedroom with your husband, making excuses of obligations and signs of illness (a huge migraine counts, right?). but no one knew you were actually just fearful that Leona would exact his revenge on you through tickling. You don’t regret pissing off the great Leona, you just regret showing a vindictive beastman your weak spots.
Leona was pissed but not because you called him a housecat (ok, maybe a little), it was mostly because your absence has disrupted his naps.
Since your union, you two were obligated to share a bed frequently to maintain your relationship despite having your own personal rooms. At first, it was a pain for Leona to share his peace and quiet with someone but he has grown accustomed to you as the two of you come together to sleep.
The warmth of your body that radiates that perfect amount of heat beside him, the pleasant waft of your scent that sticks to the sheets and pillows that doesn’t overwhelm his senses unlike the obnoxious perfumes of those gold-diggers, your soft breathing that lulls him to sleep as he unconsciously inches closer to you to hear and feel you better. He finds himself waking up in a much better mood and more well rested after your shared nights. You can’t just take that away from him after getting so comfortable.
You ruined his napping routine so you gotta fix it now.
Leona came up to you, calling a truce to “that incident” and promising not to tickle you as revenge for your yelling and insults. You immediately picked up his wording, noting he didn’t say he’ll stop tickling for good, but you figured that’s fine for now.
Ironically though, you really did have obligations that required you to stay in your personal bedroom. You have been exchanging letters with someone from a neighbouring kingdom who was planning a visit soon. So, you were now avoiding sharing a bed with Leona since you didn’t want to disturb his sleep as you stayed up to make preparations for the visiting Royal.
With your prolonged avoidance and Leona’s growing grumpiness, the castle has been tense with worry that the peaceful alliance may be at risk. Everyone was on edge and nearly in tears, especially one young lion cub.
“The kingdom’s in danger!” Cheka bawled as he buried himself into your arms, clutching to your clothes. He had walked into your bedroom with tears in his eyes, towards your seated position by your work desk and climbed into your lap.
You were at a loss at the young cub’s sudden proclamation. You turned to Leona who was lying on your large bed, spreading himself across the mattress like he owned it. He only shrugged his shoulders, confused as you are (though clearly not as worried).
“Cheka honey, what do you mean? Did your father say something today?” You asked worriedly, wondering what news could lead to such a statement.
But Cheka shook his head, still holding onto your shirt. If you weren’t so concerned with his words, you would have joked about how the young heir acts more like a koala than a mighty lion right now.
“Then spit it out, you brat” Leona irritably said, earning a side glare from you which he ignored, “What do you mean the kingdom’s in danger?”
“Hic…everyone is saying you two are gonna b-break up” Cheka choked out, tears filling his eyes again, “Then the union is gonna fail and everyone might go to war”
There was now silence as you and Leona processed the child’s words. That was one hell of a stretch of a scenario. Sure, your union with Leona was one of political benefits, but you weren’t crazy enough to start a war with an entire kingdom over a bad break up.
“We ain’t breaking up”
“Oh right, that too” you thought, realizing the obvious that Leona pointed out with an angry growl in his throat, his tail thumping down against your bed in visible annoyance.
“You and Unca aren’t?” Cheka asked, finally lifting his head to look up at you with hopeful eyes. You smiled at the cute cub beastman, weaving your hand through his fluffy hair.
“No, your uncle and I are perfectly happy. We’re not breaking up anytime soon” you reassured your nephew, too distracted to notice the way the aggressive thumping on your bed had stopped.
“Happy? Like mommy and daddy?” Cheka asked with a quizzical look, leaving you to gush internally over such cuteness.
You absentmindedly nodded your head. “Yes, just like your mommy and daddy”
“Then how come Unca and you don’t kiss?”
Oh, the silence is back.
“Mommy and daddy are always happy with each other, and they kiss all the time” Cheka continued, tapping his mouth to show where he sees his parents leave kisses, “If you’re happy, don’t you kiss each other?”
You’re cursing to yourself a mile a minute in your head, a rush of emotional stress going through your body. You didn’t want to explain the complexity of your relationship with Leona to the young Cheka, especially when you didn’t want to destroy his views of love and romance.
“How dare King Farena call me out on my PDA with Leona when he goes ahead and does this?” You frustratingly thought as you looked to Leona who has been unhelpfully laying on your bed, suspiciously quiet for a while. You glared at him while tilting your head to his nephew, wordlessly demanding help from your husband.
Surprisingly, it looked like Leona was willing to help you afterall. He finally got off your comfy bed and walked towards you and Cheka, settling to place his hand atop the backrest of your chair and leaned down towards your head.
“Yea, why don’t we kiss?”
You take back everything you thought. Leona Kingscholar is never helpful and you’re a fool to ever think that. You hoped your glare would eventually burn Leona, but sadly he still stood proudly over you with a smug look on his handsome face. Damn his handsome face.
“It’s your move, herbivore” Leona said, purposely baiting you by calling you a herbivore. He took the teasing further by leaning further down towards you, eager to see your next move.
He’s calling you out, waiting to see if you’ll chicken out and make an excuse to Cheka as he was watching you with anticipation. Fine, you’ll make the great Leona Kingscholar think twice before testing you.
You made the first move, boldly capturing the cocky prince’s lips with your own.
It shouldn’t be a big deal. The two of you have done it before on your wedding day. It should mean nothing to you as it did that day, just a formality to show your dedication to this alliance. Just a meaningless skinship between adults, right?
But why did it feel so good?
Why did you enjoy the surprising softness of Leona’s lips, or the way he didn’t seem shocked by your sudden attack but instead pressed his lips further onto yours. Why did it feel so nice to feel the Leona’s warmth on you, his natural scent strangely attractive to you. Even the stray locks of his dark mane felt nice as it lightly tickled your cheeks. You rather perish than to verbally admit, but your prideful husband was a good kisser. Firm and confident, if a little strong.
Actually really strong, why is he getting more aggressive?!
You had to fervently whack the tall prince on his shoulder to signal him to get off, to which he very slowly did. He backed away from you slightly, a little annoyed but still satisfied according to his little smirk. He certainly enjoyed the flustered mess of your face.
“Yay! No break up!” Cheka’s chirpy voice broke your daze and he cheered over your apparent “happy” relationship.
You sighed, but at least you were thankful to settle this weird confusion. You should probably speak with the servants to clear the misunderstanding around the castle.
But Cheka once again surprised both you and Leona
“Now, you and Unca can sleep together again!”
The life of royalty is not easy.
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macabr3-barbi3 · 26 days
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dream a little dream (of me)- chapter 2 [Alastor/Reader]
https://archiveofourown.org/works/54459367/chapters/138625708
Chapter 1 is here!
Same tags as chapter 1: Dream Sex, Dreamsharing, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Rough Sex, Dreamwalking, Non Sex-Repulsed Alastor
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It’s truly amazing what a regular sleep schedule can do for someone. Within days of starting to sleep in Alastor’s room, life in Hell just felt… better.
And Alastor was tolerable, in his own way. There was no mention of the deal that you had made, and if anyone noticed you spending the evenings in his bedroom they didn’t question it. It was the same every night- you would knock, he would invite you in, and you would engage in the tiniest of small talk before he shepherded you to the bed he had set up for you in the bayou dimension. It was always made, the sheets comfortable and soft and warm as you laid your head down and fell into dreamless sleep. You were keeping to your end of the deal, unable to resist the siren call of actual rest in favor of sneaking to Alastor’s side of the room to see what he dreamt of these days. 
You wondered about his end, and what he had promised if you stayed out of his dreams like you agreed- like you were doing. “Whenever you would like,” he had said, but you didn’t want to just- proposition him. That felt improper and scandalous. For the time being you were content to just accept the peaceful relaxation that the bayou realm offered you.
You quit the retail job that you held after about a week and accepted Charlie’s offer to find something to do in the hotel- you were designated to the Resident Events Coordinator, which basically meant that when Charlie got it in her head that everyone needed to go on a field trip somewhere, you were in charge of booking, paying invoices from the Hotel budget, and making sure everyone was accounted for and following the rules when you got there. In theory, anyway- you’re pretty sure Charlie came up with the job on the spot but you hadn’t actually gone anywhere yet, no field trips taken or tasks for you for a couple weeks now. 
That seemed like it was going to change as Charlie squealed your name from the front office and asked you to join her. Poking your head tentatively into the room, she has a bunch of papers spread across the desk, Vaggie in the chair next to it with a hand to her temple. She shoots you a smile before her eyes return to the carpet, muttering something in Spanish under her breath.
“What’s-”
Charlie is bouncing with excitement as she sings, “I have a resident event for you to coordinate!” She gestures to the papers on the desk with wiggling fingers. “I’ve been doing some research and while it's been found that just regular stuff in a familiar setting is all well and good and helpful, doing things like trust exercises or just hanging out in an un familiar setting can also be really great! So Vaggie and I looked into some stuff and we decided ooonnnnnn….” She trails off and gestures grandly to Vaggie, who looks up from her dead stare at the floor.
“Camping. Yay.” Her enthusiasm is noted, but when Charlie pouts at her she smiles and pulls some jazz hands. “Sorry- camping! Yay!”
You offer your own smile even as your heart drops. “Okay, cool! What do I need to do?”
Camping would mean everyone sleeping in the same area- you had gotten so accustomed to a regular night’s sleep that you weren’t sure if you could stay up an entire night to avoid falling into anyone’s dreams. Alastor probably wouldn’t come with the group- he didn’t seem like camping was his style- so you wouldn’t be able to rely on that. You hoped that going back to the energy drinks for a night or so wouldn’t irreparably damage your new internal clock.
Charlie launches into a spiel about what was needed of you- reserving the campground, making sure that there were plenty of smores ingredients handy, snacks and things to grill and bottled water all in ready supply. You would need to get the list of rules, a map of the area, tents, and did you know how to start a fire? 
“Babe, you’re the Princess of Hell. I’m pretty sure you can start a fire just fine.” Vaggie looked at her girlfriend with an air of amused frustration.
“Well yeah but I want it to be authentic! No magic on the camping trip- not even from me.”
You look up from the notepad Vaggie had handed you before Charlie got too far into it, catching up on everything she had listed off. “No magic- got it! Do you have a particular place in mind?” 
And the demon was off again, listing off nearby wooded areas that offered camping and everything the group might need. Looking at the list of items you had accumulated, you figured that this job would be actual work and not just something Charlie gave you for a title- you wondered if Vaggie had to talk her into letting someone else handle the intricacies of outings so she didn’t burn herself out.
You spent the rest of the week finalizing everything, only being met with a small groan when Charlie informed the group of what would be happening on Friday evening. Niffty seemed excited- “lots of wild bugs,” she said with a crazed look in her eye, and you made a mental note to call the campground again to ask if ‘murder of bugs’ was something that was allowed- and Angel and Husk just seemed to resign themselves to their fate. Alastor had raised an eyebrow and said he would see if his ‘schedule could allow him to attend,’ so he was most likely out.
You had only managed to acquire three tents- one for Charlie and Vaggie, one for Husk and Angel, and one for you and Niffty. You had no intention of sleeping in it- you would wait until the smaller demon fell asleep, which she always did swiftly and deeply, and then spend the night sipping caffeine and manning the fire to keep everyone warm while they slept. When you came home on Saturday you would return to Alastor’s room and catch up on the rest you would be losing.
You arranged for the delivery of everything to the campground ahead of you all, and were pleased to see all of your materials where they should be when you arrived. It felt good to be able to do something for the group, and to help Charlie like this and take some stress off her plate. You started sorting through it all, handing out sleeping bags and designating Husk to management of the food items when you hit the first snag.
“Uhhhh…” The box containing the tents had two that were regular sized- big enough for two people while still remaining in the confines of the campsite as you set them up. The last appeared to be a child’s tent- large enough for Niffty on her own but certainly not for the two of you. That threw a wrench in your plans, as you were sure that no one would go for the idea of you sleeping outside on your own.
“Oh no!” Charlie looked over your shoulder and saw the predicament. “That won’t work for the two of you- wait, you can share with Vaggie and I! There’s enough room in there for three, right?”
Fuck.
“Maybe,” you agree hesitantly, but it wouldn’t be as easy to sneak out of the tent with two of them, one being a former Exorcist Angel with a penchant for nightmares that woke her up. And just laying there pretending to sleep would probably result in you actually falling asleep- and also, it was a little weird to share a tent with a couple, right?
Vaggie frowns as she finishes setting up hers and Charlie’s tent. “I don’t know, hun- there’s not much room in here, I’m not sure if three people will fit.”
Charlie goes to inspect the tent. “Well, we would be pretty close but I think it would be okay!”
You start to wave your hands in denial. “That’s okay guys, really- I still have a sleeping bag, I can stay by the fire-”
The resounding chorus of “NO!” from the group is touching, it really is, but not helpful to your current struggle. Husk is adamantly insisting that if anyone sleeps outside it should be him, Angel is complaining about the possibility of not getting to share a tent with Husk, Niffty is- chasing bugs on the outskirts of the site, completely unconcerned with the issue at hand.
There’s a crackle of static and Alastor emerges from a shadow, casting a glance over the group. “Hello everyone! Are we having trouble already on our little camping trip?”
“Alastor.” Your heart thumps in your chest- maybe he could conjure another tent for you, do some of his magic to put a pocket dimension inside of it like the bayou in his room. “I thought you couldn’t make it.”
“It seems that I was able to free some time up to join you,” he says, then looks at the tents that have been set up. “What seems to be the problem?”
You can’t fight the surge of irritation. “I messed up the order somehow. We got two normal sized tents but the last one is only big enough for Niffty which is who I was supposed to share with- I should have sprung for another one in case you did show up, now that I’m thinking about it.” You bring a palm to your forehead. “God, that was stupid-”
“Nonsense! Why, you can share with me, my dear.” With a wave of his hand the tents are moving, repositioning to make room for a red tent that appears in the middle of the others. It’s larger than the other two, causing Angel to let out a whistle, and the relief that rushes through you is immediate.
Husk doesn’t seem to agree, and Charlie and Vaggie are both looking at you with trepidation. “Now hold on,” Husk starts. “I’ll share with you, Al. There’s no reason the little lady should be stuck in there with you.”
“Why Husker, I’m offended! Do you think I would behave improperly? I’ll be a perfect gentleman, I promise.” He gestures to the tent. “It is more than large enough for the both of us- arguably a better position for her to be in than sharing with one of you, smushed in like sardines.”
Vaggie cuts in. “Why don’t you take mine and Charlie’s tent and we can share the big one with her-”
“Vaggie,” you interrupt her. “It’s fine! I’m okay sharing with Alastor. He’s right- it is a bigger space, there will be plenty of room for us both, and I don’t want to intrude on you and Charlie.” You flash her a smile. “Everything will be okay- it’s just for one night.”
The woman groans but gives in. “If you’re sure you’re okay with it, fine. But!” She adds, pointing at Alastor. “Charlie’s rules. No more magic.” Alastor hums in agreement and the rest of the plans for the evening go without a hitch.
There’s a nice nature walk through a nearby trail, a brief stint of swimming- unplanned and unauthorized, since you specifically told Niffty it wasn’t allowed beforehand- and an easy dinner made by Husk over the fire that Niffty started. Smores are concocted and consumed before you all tell scary stories together, putting an end to it before Alastor could have his turn- no one wanted to open that can of worms, as it were.
Everyone started to turn in, including Alastor, until only you and Husk were left out by the fire. He overturned a bottle of water on the flames to douse them, a flickering ember all that remained as he sat on a log next to you. “You’re really okay sharing with him, kid?”
You raise an eyebrow. “I’m a fully grown adult, Husk,” you remind him, and he doesn’t even look sheepish. “But yes, I’ll be fine. Besides, I think Angel would throw a tantrum if he was denied being able to sleep so close to you.” You throw him a wink, and with this, at least, he blushes. 
“Yeah yeah,” he mutters, “whatever. Just… you let me know if you wanna switch. Any time. I’ll wake up if you come to our tent.”
“I appreciate it,” you say with a smile, knowing it won’t be necessary. If Alastor had put another pocket dimension in the tent you would sleep soundly, no need to switch with anyone or stay awake. “Have a good night, Husk.” You go your separate ways, waiting for him to duck into his and Angel’s tent before entering the one you would be sharing with Alastor.
There’s no bayou waiting for you- just a large bed in the very center of the space, Alastor tucked under the covers with a book in his hands. “Ah, there you are, dear!”
You enter the tent and close it behind you. “I was just cleaning up a little with Husk. Um- I don’t want to sound, you know, picky but-”
“Hmm, were you expecting the bayou from my room?” He sighs like its a great inconvenience. “Yes, I had planned to bring it to being in the tent or at least getting a second bed but alas- Charlie did insist on no magic!”
God damn this demon and his selective rule following. “Right. Well, at least you know why I’m not sleeping. I won’t have to pretend- do you have another book I could read?”
“Not sleeping? Darling, there’s room here.” He pats the bed next to him, grin wide and amused. “I insist- I promise I’ll behave.” His smile did not give you much hope to that.
“If you’re the closest person to me, then- what about our. Um. The deal?” You can’t stop yourself from entering his dreams if he’s close to you, let alone in the same bed.
He tilts his head. “You have my permission. It is one night only, as you told Vaggie. Sleeping anywhere else would drop you into the dreams of another, and even if I had been able to conjure another bed you would still be closest to myself. You may as well be comfortable.” He pulls down the corner of sheets opposite him, and you have to admit that it looks inviting.
You approach and climb under the covers, careful to keep a reasonable amount of space between yourself and Alastor as he waves a hand and the lights go dim. “I thought you said no magic,” you mutter, only a little bitterly. He chuckles but doesn’t respond, and soon the sound is replaced with light, even breathing as the Radio Demon slips into sleep.
You fight it as long as you can, but you end up joining him, the world going black before you re-materialize in a familiar place.
Alastor’s room. He’s sitting in an armchair near the fire, reading the same book he had been. He looks up at the inquisitive noise you make. “I figured you needn’t feel so guilty about intruding if there was nothing intimate to see,” he says, flipping a page.
“I appreciate that, thank you.” You take the seat opposite him, watching the fire dance before you both. Its quiet, comfortably so, the only sounds the faint breathing of you both and Alastor’s page flipping.
You watch him for a while, since there’s nothing else to do. You lightly trail his body with your eyes as he relaxes into the chair, traveling up the lines of his legs to his chest, the subtle musculature of his arms and flexing of tendons when he turns a page, his fingers dexterous and strong. You think about the last time you had been in his dream- how those fingers had been inside the dream version of you but you never got to experience it yourself, not really. You’d come into it right at the end to be speared on Alastor’s length, wet and ready despite not being part of the preparation yourself. You wanted-
“Something on your mind?” Your eyes snap up from his hands to find Alastor watching you, shit eating smile on his face as he watched you basically ogling him.
“N-no!” You scoot the chair back from him, your face twisting in confusion as it's pulled right back into position and then even further, a shadow racing out of your peripherals after it drops your chair right in front of Alastor’s, knee to knee. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”
“You know,” he says conversationally, “you’ve not yet taken advantage of your own benefits of the deal, dear. You’ve been quite compliant in staying out of my dreams- I think that warrants a reward, don’t you?”
He’s leaned into your space, inches from your face, eyes darting down to your mouth. “A- a reward?” 
“Indeed.” He closes his book and it vanishes with a twist of his wrist, freeing up the hand to brush under your chin. “You’re free to choose something else if you don’t wish to ‘cash in’ on my end of the deal. Though… you do remember what it was, don’t you?” He trails a clawed finger down your neck, brushing your hair off your shoulders and continuing down your arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Not hard enough to scratch but not so light you couldn’t feel it at all.
“I remember. You said… whenever I wanted.” Your face is red, your brain muddled as you take in the scent of him so close to you- you can’t bring yourself to say it. 
“The exact wording, sweetheart, was that I would allow you to cum on my cock whenever you’d like.” His hands dart out to circle your waist and drag you into his chair, grinding up against you as the seat transformed into something more like a chaise, reclined and wider. “Is that what you would like now?”
“Fuck, I- wait, fuck,” you manage to stammer at the feeling of his erection under you, and you find yourself rolling your hips along with him, chasing that feeling. You lose yourself in it, your mouth open while you gasp through the pleasure, and no sooner have you had the brief thought of wishing you didn’t have to remove your body to take your pants off than the article of clothing has disappeared. “What-”
“Magic in dreams doesn’t count, I rather think,” Alastor says, and he shifts you to one side in his lap to get a hand underneath you and slide a long finger into your slick warmth. “It seems that you can do it as well to an extent.”
“Well that’s pretty cool,” you mumble, and when you throw your head back with a moan he latches his teeth onto your neck, a light pinch that he sucks and then soothes with his tongue.
“Indeed; one learns something new every day!” He traces his mouth down your shoulder, over your collarbones and back up to suck at your skin again, his fingers working steadily inside you as he adds another in, to the second knuckle. “For example- I have learned that you taste and feel even better than that figment of dreams that I created.”
You let your head fall forward, press your forehead to Alastor’s. “High praise,” you say, and he laughs at you. “I knew you would- oh fuck- ” He changes his angle, crooking his fingers upwards into the sweet spot inside your body, the pressure unrelenting and causing what little control you had right now to spill out of your grasp like the whimpers that poured from your mouth.
He adjusts, leaning back fully into the chaise. He releases the grip he has on your waist to snap his fingers, and with a clink his belt has removed itself from his pants and curled up neatly on the floor. A second set of fingers slides between your bodies to undo his fly, the thumb of the hand inside you brushing against your clit as he works to remove himself.
You’re panting, the air hot between your mouths as he uses your arousal to slick himself, pushing at your entrance. “Don’t you ever take these clothes off?” You ask irritably, wondering if you could use your newfound ability to vanish at least his shirt as you grip it in your fingers desperately.
“Not here I won’t- we must leave something to be discovered in real life, don’t you think?” His shirt still stubbornly buttoned across his chest, he extracts his fingers from your body and grips your hips to pull you down onto his cock. The whine you let out would be embarrassing if it didn’t feel so goddamn good to have him fill you, nowhere to go to escape the pressure and the pleasure of it.
You plant your hands on his shoulders as he slides in to the hilt, and when you look at him his eyes are dark, cheeks flushed despite the smirk on his face. “That’s… that’s no fair,” you say, and you can feel the way you clench down around his length. “You’ve already seen a-all of me.”
He lets his hands run up your sides and under your shirt, claws leaving gooseflesh in their wake as he brings them up to brush against your nipples, drags them across your skin to gently rake down your back in the most delicious way. “That hardly counted,” he murmurs, bucking his hips up and watching the way that he slides in and out of the grip of your cunt. “This is merely a fantasy, dearest. I won’t be truly satisfied until I can say that I have claimed all of you- dream and reality, body and soul. Just to see your naked flesh is nothing to me.”
He digs the claws of one hand into your thigh, the other wrapping around the back of your neck to drag you down closer to his face, the ache of it only sending you towards orgasm faster as he grinds up into you. “I want you flayed open with the ache of needing me,” he groans, and uses his grip on your neck to force you to meet his eyes. “Here and in the real world. I want to fucking own you in every possible dimension, every possible way- tell me I can, darling. Tell me I do-”
Like last time, Alastor demanded verbal confirmation of your submission to him. “Fuck, yes,” you cry out, cutting him off, and as he pulls you in to lick into his mouth you find the strength in your legs finally, rising and sinking back down on his cock as he thrusts into you from below. It’s impossible to feel this good- you can’t possibly survive this, you think, as your cunt grips down tighter every time he glances off that spot inside of you. “Please, Alastor,” you whimper into his mouth. “Please, let me cum- I’m yours, I’m yours-”
He bites down hard on your lip, the skin breaking and blood pooling in the space where your mouths have joined as you hit your peak the same time Alastor does. He releases your lip with a drawn out groan while he fills you, grinding your hips down into his with a force that can only be describe as desperate . It doesn’t end; as you tip over the razor’s edge and drench his lap in your release you moan with the feeling of tightening on him, the sound devolving into a whimper as you clutch weakly at Alastor’s shirt when the wave finally crashes and leaves you limp in his arms.
“Hm.” When you bring you head up to meet his gaze he has a wicked smile on his face, pulling out of you with an embarrassing sound coming form between your bodies. One of his ears flicks to the side before righting itself. “Sounds like you might have some explaining to do to our friends, chérie.”
“What do you-” You don’t get a chance to finish your thought before he pushes you with a finger to your forehead, and instead of hitting the other end of the chaise you slam hard into the bed, covers fluttering around you as you fight them off with the force that you’ve landed with.
“What the fuck is going on in here?” Husk is standing at the entrance to the tent with his arms crossed, Angel Dust peering over his shoulder with interest.
You clench your eyes shut, remembering that Alastor had only conjured the one bed- this was going to be awkward. “Fuck, I-”
“Yes, my dear, you’ve even given me quite the startle.” Alastor’s voice comes from across the tent- in a different bed than the one you had both fallen asleep in. A glance down reveals that you are in your own sleeping quarters, tucked under a soft comforter on your own side of the large space.
You glare at him and he keeps his eyes wide, feigning innocence.
Charlie pops her head into the tent as well. “We heard noises,” she said. “It sounded like you were in pain. Is everything okay?”
You were going to fucking kill Alastor. 
“It was… just a dream,” you tell them, and Alastor’s smile splits his face in your peripheral vision. “A nightmare. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”
Vaggie places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder from outside the tent. “We’ve got to get started with breakfast if we’re gonna leave on time, babe,” she says, then stands on her tiptoes to look at you over Charlie’s shoulder. “If you find yourself having nightmares come let me know- I have some stuff that could help.” She vanishes, off to try to start the campfire back up the way Niffty had done accidentally the night before.
Husk is glancing between you and Alastor, and one of his eyebrows raises. “You know what? Not my damn business. Come on, Angel.” He leads the spider away as well, and Charlie gives you a wave with her worried look before the tent is zipped back up and you’re alone with Alastor again.
“You-”
“What an interesting development,” he says, suddenly in the bed with you again- perched on the side of it, having shifted through the shadows in only a moment. He reaches a finger out and brushes it along the side of your neck. You hiss at the feeling, a sharp pain following the feeling, but he’s up and out of the bed before you can say anything else. He waves a hand, and a mirror appears in the space between your beds. “Have a look, dear, then come join the rest of us! What would we do without our event coordinator to lead us back to the hotel?” He doesn’t even use the door, just sinks into the floor and is gone.
You swing your legs out of the bed, only a little irritated to find that once again your legs are shaky. You make your way over to the mirror, and you see what Alastor had seen, probably what Husk had seen as well.
A split lip, and a still weakly bleeding bite mark in the shape of Alastor’s smile.
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