#it also may jump forward a lot

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Riot Kings AU, Page 1

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@appy-polly-loggies , @shydragonrider , @professional-idiocy , @burtlederp , @unicornscotty , @whumpwillow , @transjenderdeanjail , @bliss757 , @grizzlie70 , @whatwhumpcomments , @madrono-but-i-am-not-a-fruit , @whumpzone ,. @maracujatangerine , @whump-em , @crystalquartzwhump , @outofangband , @onlywhump , @myst-in-the-mirror , @badluck990 , @kixngiggles , @bluebadgerwhump , @whumpy-catfish , @throwawaywhumper , @dont-touch-my-soup , @uvanuva , @kiichu , @dreamsofwhump , @valiantphantomturtle , @voidviewer , @whumpsday , @kira-the-whump-enthusiast , @neverthelass , @poorlittlekittycat , @finaldreams1106 , @slimesheep , @redwhump , @whumpyzombie , @wolfeyedwitch , @emmanemanemm , @briars7 , @stuffmyfriendssay

#this one wont be scheduled because im gonna try and draw it all on tablet #so ill just post whenever i get around to finishing a page #it also may jump forward a lot #my problem with comics is i LOVE heavy dialogue bit then i have to draw it all #wescue #melchiorgoesbrr #riotkingsau #whump #whump art #whump comic #angst #tw bruising #tw blood #tw partial nudity #unconscious #yes yes i know me censoring swear words is ironic considering i just drew a heckin blood eagle

[luveline]

hey luv (haha) bombshell!reader lives rent free in my head and I have a lil request for you 🫶🏽 can you write spencer calling reader a nickname for the first time and how flustered she gets? especially in front of the team I would ashdfkflsjah i feel like she always teases him with baby, handsome, etc. and he just turns red but when it’s his turn for (non malicious) payback she melts into a puddle of 🥹🫦 and forgets how to act 🥲 thank you queen ily 🫰🏼

thank you! this isn't in front of the team but i can def do that if that was the most important part, ly ♡ fem

"What's that?" you ask, peering over Spencer's shoulder. 

He turns his face to yours, sneaking a kiss against the curve of your neck. Your breath catches at his affection. "It's online shopping," he answers. "Have you seen it? They deliver your parcel the next day, apparently." 

You like the sound of that, wheeling your chair next to Spencer's to sit at his desk side by side. You're in the midst of a very rare occasion in which there's no  case and no paperwork. It won't last long, and you and your teammates are using these spare hours like a paid vacation. You deserve it (even if it isn't technically moral). 

"What are you buying?" you ask, squinting at his glaring screen. 

His gaze flashes between you and the monitor. He turns the brightness down for you. "You need new socks, right?" 

"Don't buy me socks." 

"Why not?" 

"Because I can buy my own socks?" 

"But I can also buy you socks. I felt bad this morning when I didn't have any matching pairs to lend to you. I'll buy you a big pack and this way you'll always have socks when you need them." 

"Spence, that's so sweet," you say, your hand on his bicep, thumb stroking a line he likely can't feel over his layers. "You really don't have to, though. I kind of like the odd sock look." 

Spencer looks down at your shoes. Your socks are mostly hidden. Despite what you've said, you don't like wearing odd ones, it doesn't fit your perfectly kept image, but you like Spencer a whole lot. 

"No, you don't, and that's fine." He clicks on the Buy Now button, a twenty four pack of black and white crew socks jumping into his cart. "What else should we get?" 

"We?" you ask, leaning back. 

You've barely lifted your left leg when Spencer grabs you by the knee and drapes it over his right. "You never have the stuff you need when you come over. We may as well get it all done now while we have time." 

"Are you serious?" you murmur, a slight pout to your lips. 

Spencer's eyes dart down, catch, and lift back to yours. He sounds soft as you do as he says, "Of course I am. Am I being too forward?" 

"You're never too forward. I'm too forward enough for both of us, Spence. But you don't have to buy me things, I can get all of this stuff myself and bring it with me." 

"What kind of boyfriend does that make me?" 

You can't believe he's your boyfriend. You could scream. "The most adorable one ever?" And that's just the half of it. Spencer Reid has a penchant for ignoring his own good looks. He could've been a super model if the whole genius thing didn't work out. "I need a pillow, then. If we're doing this Reid, let's do it. But I'm paying for my stuff." 

"Okay, angel. Whatever you say." 

You almost miss it, his pet name. Your brain assumes sarcasm, but when you play it back, there's only a soft giving in, like he'd do anything you asked him to just because it's you. Because you're an angel. 

You've called him so many pet names and though you knew they flustered him, you're thinking maybe the team was right, and that you were torturing him the whole time. You melt like a little square of butter in the middle of a frying pan, limp in your seat and uncomfortably warm. Angel. It inspires the want to be saccharinely sweet to him, and you would if you could regain your strength. 

You huff a breath up your hot face in hopes of cooling down. 

"What kind of pillow? Do you want a really soft one? They have hypoallergenic, or down feather." He looks at you sideways. "You can't pay for this, it's too expensive." 

"It's sixteen dollars," you say, feeling submerged. 

"Exactly. Are you okay? You look uncomfortable." 

"I'm feeling a bit hot, suddenly. Hot flush." 

Spencer abandons the computer and his online activities to unbutton the top button of your shirt, and then the second, his hands achingly gentle against your collar. "I'll buy a fan," he says, one hand trailing down your arm soothingly as the other searches for paper. "But for now." 

He fashions you an origami fan and fans you diligently. It works for a time, but you remember the dulcet cadence of his voice and the delicate way he strung the syllables together as though 'angel' were the name you were given at birth, and you feel warm all over again. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[lis-likes-fics]

Poison

Pairings: Coriolanus Snow x district!Reader Word Count: 13.3k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, technically dubcon, swearing, post-ballad, mentions of killing and death, violence, technically prostitution, oral (m and f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, sadistic tendencies, p in v sex, unprotected sex, coriolanus snow is NOT a good person. A/N: I started this a bit ago but writer's block hits hard. Reader did not remember who the enemy was...but she also kinda did. ANYWAy, I wrote this based around a song from Hazbin Hotel called Poison. All credit for the song goes to Sam Haft and Andrew Underberg. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

PART ONE: The Deal

The knocks which echo off the walls of your house are loud, firm, assertive. You jump at the sound, watching the door like it would fly off its hinges. For far too long, you stare at the door, debating whether or not you should open it.

Who could it be? You don't get many visitors… You don't get visitors.

You stand slowly, the hairs along your arms and the back of your neck on edge. You swear that you can feel your hands shaking. You hold your breath just so you can actually hear what's going on around you.

Another firm knock is given, and you snap out of your haze.

Your feet carry you across the length of the living room. Your fingers brush the cold knob of the door, and you hesitate before pulling it open, just enough to peek through the crack to see who could possibly be visiting you.

Your eyes widen and you fight the urge to step back, both of pure shock and a modicum of fear. “Mr. Snow.”

The sight of Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow at your door was not one you ever thought you'd see. There are two Peacekeepers behind him, holding their guns tight in offense against you.

You clear your throat, looking upon his expensive suit, his white-blonde hair, the single rose in his breast pocket. You force yourself to look him in the eye, afraid to antagonize him and risk any violence, before remembering who he was. He wouldn't get violent, but you would pay for it if you angered him.

He smiles when you finally meet his gaze, but he doesn't bother to tilt his chin down to level it. “Hello,” he greets politely.

You straighten your posture slightly, opening the door a bit more out of obligation more than a desire to welcome him in. Seeing that he is the man who designed the Games that put you through hell, you would rather keep him out.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, keeping your voice as non-confrontational as possible. “Sir.”

He shrugs, pulling his hands from the pocket of his jacket and holding them behind his back. He almost seems taller this way.

“Checking up on our latest Victor,” he smiles. He motions toward your living room, “May I come in?”

You don't have much of a choice now. With a sigh, you take a reluctant step to the side and grant his invitation. When he takes his first step forward and the Peacekeepers begin to move, he stops immediately and holds up a hand. They stand firmly in their place. Snow turns back to you, smiles, and then walks inside.

He takes the time to examine the place before he ever speaks, and you close the door behind him to shut the grunts out. Snow clasps his hands behind his back once more and glances around the room like it's speaking to him. He nods slowly, humming to himself.

“How are you?” he finally asks after you've both spent far too long in uncomfortable silence. “How is the life of a champion suiting you?”

You try not to scoff, bowing your head and crossing your arms over your chest, making yourself as small as you feel.

“Well enough, I guess,” you mumble.

He glances over his shoulder at you. “You guess?” he wonders, raising a curious brow.

You clench your jaw once, “Mr. Snow respectfully, why are you here?”

He shrugs. “As I said…checking on our Victor.”

You hum. “And you do this with all your Victors?”

The corner of his lip kicks, barely perceptible if you aren't paying attention. But you are. It would cost you a lot not to pay attention.

“That's the routine,” he says. His eyes wander around the room once more, falling back on you with a cold expression. His eyes are like frost, and you shudder at the sight of them. He tilts his head.

“You don't seem quite happy with your turnout,” he suggests, his eyes narrowing slightly in a questioning manner. You feel like your blood has just run cold. The anxiety seeps into your skin. “Why is that?”

You clench your jaw nervously, clearing your throat as you shrug. You tear your eyes away from him for just a moment and force yourself to look back immediately after.

Your voice is small and your attempt at lying fails because of it. “Why wouldn't I be happy?” you ask. “I have…” You glance around, trying to find something to point out before you seem too suspicious—uselessly, you already know you've been caught red-handed. “I have...a new house and—and prize money. And fans, apparently.”

You try not to be too disgusted by that—fans gained with the useless slaughter of children. A few months you've been out of that arena. And you still see the faces of all those children in your head wherever you go, the sounds of regret and their deaths deafened by the screaming cheers of the mindless crowd that celebrated you for it.

“I'm…” you take a breath, “all set.”

He doesn't believe you. Why would he?

“Yet you've barely moved in,” he points out, making a small circle in the place where he stands. He holds his arms out, as if to emphasize his point. “No pictures, little to no personal belongings. This house looks exactly as it did when you first moved in.”

You furrow your brows, tilting your head slightly. “You know what it looked like?” you question, a gentle and hopefully empty challenge.

He raises a brow. “I was the one who approved everything here. For your comfort, of course.”

Ah.

“No one lives here with you?” he wonders.

You shake your head tentatively. “No one to live with.”

His brows raise slightly. “No family? Friends?”

You clear your throat and shake your head once more.

He hums. “A little lonely, don't you think?”

You shrug, your arms crossing tighter over your chest as you turn slightly away. “I'm used to being alone.”

His eyes scan you up and down. “That's quite sad.”

You swallow thickly. “Doesn't matter to me.”

“Here you are all alone in your little District 7,” he says. The way he looks at you, his predatory gaze, it makes you feel so small. But his voice is soft, not as mocking as it should sound compared to his diction. “No friends, no family, and no care about the way it all is.”

You want him to leave, leave you alone to your loneliness, your quiet misery. If he is just going to stand there and call you an outcast, you don't see any reason that he should stay.

“Yeah. Your point?” You don't mean to sound so hostile but you couldn't help it.

He seems to smirk. “How would you like to change that?”

You could have gotten whiplash. You blink rapidly, licking your lip as you try to figure out if you heard him correctly. “What?” you ask.

“How would you like to change that?” So you had heard him right. “Be a little less lonely, You'd have money, friends, all of your needs would be taken care of.”

You don't trust him. Why should you? Why would Coriolanus Snow offer you all of this? Comfort and stability, a life of luxury?

At what cost?

“And you're offering this to me, why?” Attempting a little boldness, you uncross your arms and straighten your spine a bit. “What did I do? I mean…” you scoff, “I won, sure, but only by the skin of my teeth. And I'm sure you don't go around offering this to all your other Victors. What's so special about me, huh?”

There's a long silence where he just…stares at you. His face is completely unreadable, devoid of any type of emotion as he watches your face too closely.

Then a smile begins to curl his lips and he tilts his chin up just a slight. “You're right,” he says simply. Then his eyes look you up and down. “Truth is, I lied.”

You don't like the change in demeanor. It's a different kind of superiority than the one he displayed before. “I figured as much,” you reply, trying not to lose your confidence, though your voice does become a little quieter. “So what do you want? Why are you here?”

He tilts his head and steps toward you. You take an instinctive step back. “You're special,” he says. You scoff but he just shakes his head. “I can feel it. I wasn't lying about my offer. I came to give you more than…” he looks around and sighs, “an empty house with no pictures on the walls. As I said…all your needs would be taken care of.” The smallest shrug raises his shoulders. “With a price.”

There it is.

Again, you scoff. You cross your arms and roll your eyes and plop down on the couch. “Have I not paid enough?”

He walks toward you, and suddenly you regret putting yourself in such a physically vulnerable situation. “You're right,” he hums. “You have. I'm not asking much. Truth is…all I need is an assistant.”

You furrow your brow. “And you're choosing someone from District instead of Capitol?”

He takes a slow breath in, shrugging. “You suit my interests. Capitol does not.”

“So I have to, what, follow you around? Take orders from you?” You lick your lip. “And I get what exactly?”

He takes his hands from his pockets. “Shelter, money, a sprinkle of fame. Anything you could ever need or want.” He stops a moment, thinking to himself with a light hum. “You'd have to sign a contract, of course.”

You sigh, a million thoughts rushing through your head as you actually consider his offer. This is the man who literally designed your hell. He is one of the very people who forced you to fight for survival, to kill for it. For months, you've lived with nightmares full of slaughter and regret.

But for years, you've lived with isolation and solitude. He would give you everything. Shelter, money, a sprinkle of fame. A chance to start over, a chance to be a little less lonely.

But you are all too aware of the chance that this could all blow up in your face. This is Coriolanus Snow. He's not to be trusted, surely.

“And if I say no?”

He stands still for a moment, so still you wonder if he'd frozen in time. You have to urge yourself to hold his gaze. You can't seem afraid of him, you just can't.

Finally, Snow lets out a long sigh. He steps close, before turning and sitting next to you on the couch. He leans back, getting comfortable as he crosses his legs and sets his hands in his lap.

“Then you stay here,” he says plainly, shrugging before letting his gaze wander around the living room of this hollow home. “In this big…empty house.”

This big empty house. Your grand solitude.

Knowing the things you know now, you wish you could say that you would go back and change your decision. You wish you could say you'd go back and choose your loneliness over the dark nights you'd sucked yourself into.

You made a deal with the Devil. And you know that if you had the choice…you'd do it again.

I'm not above a love to cash in…

~

PART TWO: Paradise

A week later, you found yourself standing in the Capitol, in Coriolanus Snow’s office, with a contract and a pen in front of you. You scanned over the words, took a deep breath, picked up the pen, and signed your name on the dotted line at the bottom.

Snow gave you a large smile and sent an escort to show you to your new living quarters. In his house. Down the hall from his room.

And for the next couple of weeks, you've been to two separate welcome parties, two other Capitol parties, and six meetings as Snow’s new assistant. You've handled messages, documents, scheduling, and a variety of appointed tasks that have put you in positions so far above so many Capitol members, you briefly wonder if you've signed into a scam.

At first, there was…resistance among the people. There were insults that you were an animal, a bottom feeder, a whore, a parasite. But every person who had dared to insult you had gone missing the next day. No one made any questions, or remarks, after so many people mysteriously disappeared.

And, soon, you got comfortable. Because Snow held up his end of the bargain. You were comfortable, wealthy, made some friends who had taken a moment to get used to you (you suspect they're trying to be nice to you to earn favor from Snow, but at least you aren't being insulted anymore). You don't go hungry every night, you always have fresh clothes. Sure, your schedule was a bit stressful, but that was an adjustment that could be made. Asking for more would be selfish—and insane, what more could you want?

You were, on the levels that counted…happy, content.

In just a few weeks, you had settled in like you belonged. Well…maybe not to that extent, but the work became easy and the needless parties were much appreciated.

When someone knocks on your door, you're pulling your robe over your body as you walk over to answer it. One of the servants stands on the other side, looking tired from the day's work.

“Yes, Charlotta?”

“Mr. Snow has requested your presence in his study, ma'am,” she says.

You glance behind you at the clock in your room. “Now? It's so late.” You hum, “Alright, thank you. Go to bed. You must be exhausted.”

She nods thankfully and turns away. You're quick to pull your slippers on, pulling your robe tight around your nightgown before rushing down the hall. You don't want to be late to him.

You reach his door down the hall, taking in a breath and raising your fist. Your knuckles meet the door four times.

“Come in,” His muffled reply comes.

You turn the knob, opening the door. Peaking into the room, you slowly walk inside, standing by the door. “You called?” you speak gently.

Snow is slouched over his desk, his pen scrawling away at a file of papers in front of him. “I did,” he nods. There's a moment of silence between you as he finishes up the last part of his work.

He sets his pen down and sits up, his back straight as he sets his clasped hand over his lap and turns his full attention to you. “I have an urgent matter I need you to take care of.”

You close the door behind you, establishing some privacy. It must be important if he's asking you this late. He probably needs you to run some important documents to someone, or schedule another meeting with one of the ambassadors that came to one of his meetings today.

“Yes, sir?” you ask.

“Come here,” he says, making a come hither movement with his fingers. Clasping your hands behind your back, you walk toward his desk and stop in front of him. He clarifies, “Behind the desk.”

You tilt your head, your brows furrowing as you hesitate. You begin to take your first step, pause, and then make your way behind the desk.

He turns his chair as you come to stand in front of him, your hands held tightly in front of you. He sits there, staring up at you as his eyes rake over your body.

You shift from foot to foot, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about the way he's looking at you. And again…silence.

“Get on your knees.”

All the heat escapes your body at the same time. A chill rushes up your spine. And once the initial shock has dissipated, a fire spreads across your flesh and you're burning up. You feel like your hands have begun shaking, so you shift them behind your back.

You have to find your voice again, clearing your throat timidly. “Sir?” you nearly stutter, clearing your throat again.

He shakes his head, amused by the timid look on your face. “I didn't stutter.”

You don't move, shocked to stillness. Snow sighs, standing to his feet and moving in front of you. He holds his chin up, looking down his nose at you to emphasize his superiority. You shrink underneath him.

“You're my assistant. You signed a contract,” he explains. “I take care of your needs, you take care of mine. No matter the request.”

You really should have read the fine print.

“Right now,” he continues, raising a hand to brush his knuckles over your cheek. Your eyes flutter lightly at the contact, holding your breath, afraid to breathe wrong and upset him. “My needs are for you to get on your knees and put your pretty mouth to good use. Then I'll do the same for you.”

Another shudder rushes through your spine. He pretends not to notice, but his smirk does deepen. Your lips part as you try to speak, unsure of what you'll say. “I…”

He drops his hand, lifting a brow expectantly. “Is there a problem?”

You clear your throat one more time, shaking your head and glancing away from his eyes, his intense, cutting blue eyes. “No, sir.”

He smiles. “Good.”

You glance up at him. His hand reaches up and grasps your chin. In the next moment, he's pulling you in as his lips crash down against yours. It's a possessive kiss, deep and devouring—controlling.

You have no choice but to kiss him back, letting your hands fall at your sides and lifting them up to his arms. You don't know where you're supposed to put them.

Just as you're leaning into the kiss, he pulls away from you and takes a step back. His lips, still parted and smiling, are wicked. He lowers himself into his seat, his legs wide open and his hands clasped in front of him. “As you were.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Taking an unsteady step forward, you slowly kneel to the floor. You hold your breath, avoiding his gaze as your shaky hands reach for his belt.

You undo it, pulling open his button and unzipping his pants. Exhaling, you nervously dip your hand into his pants and feel the warmth of his length against the pad of your fingers. You shudder, braving him as you pull him out of his pants.

And he doesn't disappoint.

Your eyes widen and you don't feel like it's real as you hold him in one hand. He's long with a nice enough girth that he will stretch you a bit. You curse under your breath, licking your lips as you glance up at Snow.

He smiles, watching you closely. Suddenly you feel naked. “What are you waiting for?” he asks, not cruelly.

You tear your gaze away from him, looking back down at the pink tip of his cock. You let your lips part and let your tongue fall to the edge of your lip…

~

The soft red light of Coryo’s lamp glows dimly on your skin as his strong hand cards through your hair, balling into a fist to grip your locks at his own need. Your moans stutter deep in your throat where his cock sits, the tears spring to your eyes.

His tongue plunges inside of you, licking the honey from your folds as you arch your back and moan his name. Your fingers tangle in his hair, and he groans into you at the sting of his scalp from your insistent grasp.

His lips press kisses to your back as you white-knuckle the headboard of his bed. His fingers dig into your hips, creating crescents in your flesh that crater your skin. He fucks you in long, hard strokes of his cock. His teeth are bared like a beast, his hair falls over his forehead, his groans are rough with lust.

The crashing of waves drowns you, explosions are set off deep within your body. His liquor fills your mouth, your throat, your belly. It's warm and sating, and he pulls you close to make sure you never stray from his hold.

And through the night, his arms never leave your body, his claws never leave your flesh…

~

It wasn't hard to get cocky after that. The Capitol was lavish, and it had a way of turning people to bathe in the lap of luxury. You slowly began to learn what kind of position you truly held here, and after months of being high-seated in the Capitol, you had begun to sink into your role.

Snow is the Head Gamemaker, you are his assistant. Everyone had to listen to you if they wanted to make it back home safe to their families. With a whisper in your boss’ ear, you could ensure no one ever spoke badly about you again.

Not that you have exercised that power yet, but you could. And Snow was happy to oblige.

After that first night in his room, your lips around his cock, his hand tangled in your hair, the pleasure didn't end. No, it's normal to find yourself tangled in his sheets, to find your head buried between his thighs (or vice versa), to have his name falling from your lips like you were praying to the gods that men had killed years and years ago.

You've become addicted to the taste of Snow, the smell of Snow, the feeling of Snow. It's an easy thing to overdose on.

Should you have been more careful?

Yes. Yes, you should have.

But Snow is an easy thing to get high on.

Katri spots you through the luscious crowd of one of the Capitol’s many needless parties with ease. Surrounded by nobles and benefactors, you brought your flute of champagne to your lips with a smile. A giggle erupts from your throat at one of the party-goers’ jokes—one that you didn't find particularly funny, but you've gotten really good at pretending.

Katri walks up to you, a tray of champagne in hand as she does. “Ma'am?” You turn toward her, smiling and grabbing a fresh flute from her tray with thanks. She clears her throat, “Mr. Snow has requested your presence.”

You hum gratefully. “Alright, I'll be there in a moment.”

You begin to turn around again but she insists. “He says it's urgent. He wants you immediately.”

Ah, then he's pent up. You wave a hand dismissively, sticking to your response. “Well, tell Coryo I'm busy. I'll be there in a moment.” She gives you a hesitant look, and you smile. “He doesn't have to worry his pretty little head about it. Okay?”

She scoffs lightly, turning away. “Whatever you say.”

The anxiety in the air around her is palpable with the fact that she would have to return this news to Snow. She finds him in the same place she left him, surrounded by diplomats with his own—now empty—flute of champagne.

As she approaches him, he smiles politely. “Where is my little assistant?” he asks.

Katri clears her throat as she switches his glass out for a fresh one. “She said she'll be here in a moment.”

The shift in his attitude is so slight, it's easy to miss. But she notices the slight clench of his jaw, the faintest clutch of his fingers. “Did she now?” he questions, his head tilting a bit to the side.

She nods slowly, switching her tray to her other hand. “Her exact words were…” She clears her throat once more, not wanting to recite your words back to him. You must have been out of your mind. “ ‘Tell Coryo I'm busy. I'll be there in a moment.’ ”

He seems to know there's more to it because he bids her to continue. Her eyes glance away from him as she does. “She said, ‘He doesn't have to worry his pretty little head about it.’”

She can tell there's something else he wants to say but chooses not to as his smile becomes tight. “Thank you,” he says simply, politely.

She nods. “Yes, sir.” She walks away.

PART THREE: Reality

You smile a bit when you feel Coryo’s hand land on the side of your arm, grazing up the length of it to reach your shoulder. You look up at him, immediately noticing the stiffness of his grin.

I shoulda guessed that this would happen…

“Coryo,” you greet with a smile. He nods toward the people surrounding you, greeting them politely. He doesn't look at you, just begins to lead you away from them as he ducks his head nearer to your ear.

“My office.” His words are firm, with no room to refuse.

Still, like a fool, you say, “In a moment please? I–”

His smile does not falter, but his voice is a demand as he speaks through his teeth. His grip on your shoulder becomes tight. “Now.”

You clear your throat, your smile still intact but not as professionally kept as his own. You nod once, “Yes, sir.”

He walks away, but not in the direction of his office. You watch him leave, clearing your throat discreetly and dismissing yourself from those who try to speak to you. You go straight to his office, not daring to refuse him again.

When you're there, you find yourself pacing the length of the room uneasily, waiting for him to join you. But he doesn't join you, not immediately. He makes you wait, he makes you stir. You stew in your own anxieties, cursing yourself for being so stupid as to tell him to wait.

Him.

Coriolanus Snow.

He interrupts your thoughts ten minutes later—you know, you counted—opening the door and shutting it gently behind him. He doesn't meet your gaze as he walks past you dismissively. He rounds his desk, pulling open a drawer that holds his personal scotch.

In silence, he pours himself a glass. In silence, he takes a sip. In silence, he savors the taste on his tongue and refuses to look your way for even a second.

You bow your head as you wait for him to say something, anything.

And when he does speak, you suddenly wish he hadn't.

“You're ‘busy’?” he questions.

“Sir?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

He smiles, turning to finally look at you. “ ‘Tell Coryo I'm busy. He doesn't have to worry his pretty little head about it.’ ” He licks his bottom lip, scoffing as he shakes his head at your audacity. “You let those words come out of your mouth?”

You clear your throat as quietly as possible. “I…didn't think it was a big deal… I was on my way.”

He stares at you, unblinking. Then he takes another sip of his drink and sets it down again. He walks from behind his desk, rounding to the front and leaning against it.

“Do you think you're special or something?” He furrows his brow, as though he's confused. You want to sink into the floor, to let the world swallow you whole, to disappear. “What, because I fuck you, you can talk to me any way you want?”

He puts venom behind the word, enough force to ensure you felt it. You swallow thickly, wanting to step away but knowing that if you did that, you would only make matters worse.

“Look at me,” he demands. And immediately, you obey.

You speak quickly, trying to fix your mistake before it can get worse. “Coryo, I'm sorry. I–”

“You're not special,” he cuts you off, advancing toward you. He grabs your wrist, pulling it up sharp and pulling you close to his face, inches away. You can feel his breath on your cheeks. “I own you. You belong to me.” His voice is low, dangerous.

But you've still got some pride left over. And that would be your downfall…

“I don't ‘belong’ to an–”

“You're mine!” he exclaims, though he doesn't shout. There's force behind his words, and his voice raises to a more stern, more possessive growl as he shoves you back. You stumble to the floor, grunting from the pain that shoots up your arm from landing on your elbow. You look up at him, your eyes wide with fear.

I shoulda known it when I looked in your red hot eyes…

“That's what it says in your contract, or do you not remember?” He takes a step closer, standing over you. His voice is low and dangerous, but he has no use for yelling anymore as he speaks to you. “You take care of all my needs—no protests, no complaints. Those words say that you do whatever I want, whenever I want it, however I want it. And if you complain, I take away everything you know, drop you back in your sad little district, and put your name back in the raffle one hundred times over.”

You should have known it from the beginning. A deal so good had to come with a hell of a lot of strings. From the very beginning, he had been lying to you with the idea of a shiny new life.

Spewing all your red hot lies…

He stares at you, his jaw clenched, his breath slowing to a gentler seethe. He lifts his chin, collecting himself as he takes a steadying breath. He kneels in front of you, resting his elbow on his knee.

His voice is a whisper. “You belong to me.” His tone is final, definite. “If I say speak, you say?”

Your breath trembles with a mix of anger and fear as you look up at him, tears threatening to well in your eyes but refusing to breach the surface and give him the satisfaction. Your lips part, though you hardly give yourself space to speak.

“Yes, Coryo.”

“If I say jump, you say?”

“Yes, Coryo.”

His hand wraps around your throat, pulling you forward enough so that your faces are once again only inches apart. “And if I say open your mouth, you get on your knees and drop your jaw.”

You stare at him, your gaze so close to blurring as you sigh, choked up from his suddenly poor treatment of you. “Yes, Coryo.”

The smallest smirk creeps over his lips and threatens the rest of your already weak composure. He pulls you in and his lips press hungrily against yours. It's all teeth and tongue, biting your bottom lip and licking the top of your mouth. You want to resist, but you can't. His touch, however wrong, however killing, is addictive.

When he pulls away from your lips, you nearly seek him out, releasing a breath like he'd filled your lungs with smoke. Your skin picks with red hot spite at the tiny moan that slips through your lips.

He holds your throat a little tighter, not enough to stop your breath but enough to make the tips of your ears tingle. Enough to make the heat in your core grow.

“I own you,” he whispers. “You belong to me. Do I make myself clear?”

Your lips part and shallow breaths pass pathetically through them before you finally respond, a whisper of your own. “Yes, Coryo.”

“I can't hear you.”

“Yes…Coryo.”

His grip loosens. “Good.”

He lets you go, standing to his full height once more as you take in a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as your hand flies to your throat.

You watch his hands find his belt, undoing it with deft hands. “Now open your mouth,” he commands.

You swallow thickly, slowly adjusting yourself to sit on your knees. You glance away as you drop your jaw and stick your tongue out over your teeth.

“Look me in the eyes.”

You do, immediately. His blue eyes, hiding so many lies behind them that they brim with color. “Good girl.”

Your jaw ticks as you raise your hands to pull his cock from his pants, already hard from the power he holds over you.

What's the worst part of this hell? I can only blame myself.

You wrap your lips around the tip, laving your tongue against the head before slipping it underneath him. Stroking the rest of you, you take special care in providing his pleasure as you let your lips suckle around him.

Up and down his length, you go, giving him your hot, wet mouth as he likes it—as he needs it. His hand tangles in your hair and grips it tight, guiding you just a bit to take him deeper down your throat. And you do. You take him as far as he'll go, keeping the gag awaiting at bay as you swallow around him.

I know you're poison. You're feeding me poison.

And when you think you've gone far enough, he holds you down and shoves the rest of him farther inside. Your lungs are tight, they burn with the lack of air. But you just hold onto his thighs and hope he grants you enough mercy for breath.

And when he pulls out enough for you to snatch that merciful breath, you can taste his precum on your tongue. And you waste no time in taking him again, up and down and up and down. Just like he likes it—just like he needs it.

He curses under his breath, holding you tighter as his desperation grows and grows. “Fuck, just like that,” he huffs, fighting to keep his eyes open as your tongue caresses the vein along the bottom of his cock.

His lips part, his eyes shut. He shoves you farther down on his cock as your good work pushes him over the edge. The warmth fills your mouth, down your throat in generous amounts of pent up stress. And you drink it up. Every drop. Like liquor.

Addicted to this feeling I can't help but swallow up…

You catch your breath as he collects himself once more, his chest heavy with the lust simmering down in his belly. He tucks himself away, back into his pants. And as he watches you, you lick your lips free of his poison.

He smiles wickedly, cupping your chin in his hand. “Good girl,” he praises again. You stare at him and say nothing else. He inhales, exhales, and straightens his back. “Come. We have a party to re-attend.”

You stand on unsteady feet, wiping your face clean just to ensure you aren't going back to the party with Snow’s cum on your lips.

He pulls his arm around your waist and leads you back.

At the first sight of you and Snow, the vultures swarm. “We were beginning to think you weren't coming back down,” one of them jokes.

Snow smiles, “Of course not. I just had some business to take care of. Isn't that right?” He turns to you expectantly.

You let your smile widen across your lips as you nod. “Yes, Coryo,” you say.

You can see the wicked beast glint happily in his eyes. Pleased, he turns away from you again to look at his hand, realizing it lacks the champagne flutes each of his guests hold in their hands. He smiles at you once more.

“Would you mind getting drinks for me and my guests?” he requests.

You avoid the clench of your jaw that you long to grant him, instead deciding to pull your smile into a wider grin and nod.

“Yes, Coryo.”

“Thank you,” he grins. He lifts a crooked finger to the underside of your chin, tapping it lightly. “And cheer up… It's a party.”

You give him a tight smile and walk away in the direction of the kitchens, which is currently bustling with people making another batch of the well-loved appetizers and refilling more glasses for the guests.

You pass by the champagne entirely to get to the, quite large, liquor cabinet. You pour yourself a hefty glass of scotch and gulp it down, braving the burn of your throat as you finish it with a sigh.

You replace the scotch, claim a tray, and walk out with the requested beverages. You hand them to Snow and his guest, a glorified waitress.

Taking your own flute, you hand the tray to a passing server and let the effects of the scotch sink into your bones.

You wouldn't call the rest of the night a blur, especially because you are completely aware of what was happening as you continued to mingle with the guests. You kept a hold of your wobbling tongue, and you remained civil and polite. Snow could tell there was something off—and of course he knew what it was—but you hadn't embarrassed him yet, so he let it slide.

And that night, when the guests took their leave and the party came to a close, you met Snow in his bedroom once more so he could more thoroughly remind you of who you belonged to.

And like the addict you are, you happily obliged.

~

PART FOUR: Lap Dog

You made sure not to forget your place again.

Weeks turned to months, months turned to years, and you were still seated at Snow's right hand as he climbed the ladder, dragging you along through the journey. You did everything for him, anything for him. That was your job. Whatever he asks of you is considered done as soon as the request passes his lips. Whatever he wants, whenever he wants, however he wants. No matter what.

You sold your soul to the Devil, and you were addicted to the madness of your deal.

“I need you to give this to Snow.”

You're stopped in the middle of the hall by some woman with a stack of files in her arms. She's got a smug face, and you immediately don't like her as she grabs the file at the top of her stack and thrusts it out toward you.

You sigh, taking it as you begin to flip it open. “What is it?”

She pinches the top corner closed, shaking her head. “It's not your business to know, is it?”

You scoff, smiling as you tilt your chin up. The same way Snow does when he wants to stress his rank over another person's head. “Actually,” you wave her hand away from you, “as President Snow's assistant, it is my job to know anything and everything about what goes to and from his desk.” You take a step toward her, looking down on her just as he would. “So I ask again, what is it?”

There's a long pause as she stares at you, her eyes dark with the hatred and prejudice that bleeds from her gaze. Capitol taking orders from District? It's unheard of…

You would think, since you've been here so long, that they'd learn that you rank higher than they ever will. They don't have to like you, but whether they like it or not, they have to listen to you.

It wasn't hard to become cocky, but cocky was something you learned. This woman, whoever she was, was born with it. And that was a plague that would be the end of her.

She huffs quietly. “It's the request he made for some documents.” Your brow furrows slightly. A mistake. Now she believes she knows something you don't. Now she believes she has the upper hand. Her tone betrays her. “Something about the Games’ Victors.”

You don't know what this is. You've heard nothing of the sort.

But she keeps saying “something”. You want specifics. Does she not have it? “You don't know?”

“Of course I know,” she lays a delicate hand over her delicate chest. For a moment, you wonder if she's ever had to do any kind of work (you know she hasn't). She wouldn't last a second…

“And I'd elaborate,” she continues, pulling you from your thoughts, “but I, quite frankly, don't want to tell you, and you probably couldn't read it to figure it out for yourself.” Your jaw tenses at her unfounded insult. You don't respond. “I mean, that's why you want me to explain it to you, isn't it?”

I got so good at being untrue.

You sigh forcefully, a long, deep sigh to try and control yourself. “Excuse me?” Does she truly dare to challenge you in such a way?

“You heard me,” she replies, unblinking.

Clearly, she thinks you're an idiot. A stupid, incompetent idiot. You want to take her words and shove them back down her throat. You want to grab her by the hair and drag her around like the dog she seems to think you are.

But you can't. You must remain civil, so the only way you can try to hurt her is through your words.

You don't need trouble with Snow for embarrassing him…

“Ah,” you scoff, lifting your chin again to keep your superiority. “So you're stupid?”

The blatant insult has her clutching her pearls. Obviously, she wasn't expecting that kind of bluntness from you.

You smirk at her reaction, no longer collected. You have the upper hand once more.

“You really think it's a good idea to talk to me like that? Me? President Snow's second hand?” You don't love playing that card, but it's a play that will almost always work for you.

No one would dare object to President Snow.

She hums, trying to seem unphased. “You're right,” she says, “I probably shouldn’t speak to Coriolanus Snow’s little pup like that.” Her face contorts into one of mocking sorrow, her lip jutting out and her brows furrowing. “She might get sad and go tell her master on me.”

Little pup. Little pup.

Flashes of late nights spent in Coryo’s room, nights where his stress gets the better of him and he decides to take it out on you, nights where he spanks you and calls you names and takes you hard and rough, cross behind your eyes. “My dumb little girl, my pathetic little whore, my pitiful little pup.”

And you would let him, you would encourage him. You would moan and writhe and bend to his will. And your fists tighten at the memory. They clench with rage and regret and the desire to be more than an animal.

You aren't an animal, you are a human fucking being.

I got so good at telling you what you wanna hear. I disassociate, disappear.

Baring your teeth and losing composure, you huff. You're seething as you speak. “I am not his pup.”

She chuckles, finally striking a nerve as she lifts her brows. “Aren't you? His little lap dog.” She puts emphasis on each word, ensuring the ‘G’ hurts. She walks toward you, but you don't move. You stand your ground. You aren't scared of her.

You're going to fucking kill her.

Foolishly, she continues on. “You think just because you won the Games and he decided to take pity on you, that gives you any real power?”

You scoff. Pity. He doesn't know the meaning of the word.

“You're his whore,” she spits. It doesn't anger you because it's true, it angers you because no one even knows about that part of your deal, and she's accusing you of being a whore because of who you are.

Her face is inches from yours, her voice trying to be lower, though it's so naturally snooty that it's hard to reach that threatening level. She sounds like a child. And her sneer makes you want to treat her like one.

“You're a fucking slut. Just a little District animal who got lucky.”

Your anger flares. You grit your teeth. You lower your voice, successfully, and nearly growl.

“You wanna say that again?”

She smirks wickedly. “You are a whore.”

You walk toward her. She's standing so close that she is forced to step back with the stutter of her heels scraping the floor.

“You forget,” your lips turn in a venomous smile, fueled by rage and violent tendencies you're trying your best to hold back, “I fucking won the Games. I killed tributes with my bare hands, and you want to challenge me?”

And you see the flash of fear behind her eyes at the reminder, though she tries to hide it. But you know fear. You've felt it slice your flesh, you've used it to slice other's flesh. You know the biting and the tearing and the clawing of fear, and you can see it clear in her eyes even as she tries so hard to hide it.

Being afraid is the smartest thing she's done since she decided to open her mouth.

“You aren't going to do anything,” she says, as a defense more than an accusation, a reassurance for herself more than a taunt for you. “You'll just tuck tail and run to master–”

You're done being civil. You're done rolling over and showing your belly. You're done bowing your head and taking orders.

If they are going to treat you like an animal, you'll behave like one.

And she meets the blunt end of your rage with a fist to the face. Stacks of files smack loudly in a pile on the floor. You clip her cheek with the ring on your finger, and you huff at the pleasure that comes with defending yourself.

Her face whips to the side. It's a full body reaction. She staggers, crying out as her hand flies to her face, unable to take the heat of your violence. She looks back at you, her eyes wide with fear, too much to have room for anger.

You don't give her the chance to make room for it either. You punch her again on the same side, this time letting your fist connect with her brow. And when she stumbles again, you shove her back so she falls to the floor.

The sounds of her pain are loud and evident. But the bliss you gain from them is only so perfect because she deserves it.

And as you straddle her body, you can smell her fear just as well as you can see it. You can taste it like the blood she tastes on her tongue as you hit her again, and again, and again.

“What is going on here?”

You're off of her in an instant—and it's no scramble. You maneuver off of her with ease and scoop up your files once more, straightening your spine as you stand back and join Snow's side with one hand behind your back, bloodied knuckles and all. You sniff, the rueful look on your face taking a moment to dissipate as you replace it with civility.

You are a human being.

You don't look at Coryo’s face. You know it's covered with anger and disappointment. It's worse if he's stone cold. You can salvage this…

The woman rolls over onto her side, holding her nose delicately as she struggles to her feet. Tiny gasps and painful moans slip from her lips. She got what she deserves.

“Sorry, sir,” you say, obviously lying.

Suddenly, you feel like you should have punched her one more time. Because she begins to laugh. It's a bubbling laugh that you're sure is hurting her.

You can't do anything now. Not while Snow is here.

She shakes her head, licking her split lip and wincing through her laugh. Snow finds that more offensive than your empty apology, more offensive than even your savage display of violence.

“What's your name?” he demands.

She straightens up just a bit more. She also doesn't seem to understand the situation because she has a snarky grin on her face that says that she believes she's coming out of here on top. But those odds are not in her favor.

“Ellyn Halper,” she says.

“Ms. Halper.” He watches her, looking her up and down, his eyes strict and cold. He makes her squirm, even as she looks confidently at him. “You're fired.”

The news hits her like a train. She steps back, faltering, the horror crossing her face. “What?” She scoffs, glancing between the two of you as she shakes her head. “She attacked me!”

“And she wouldn't have attacked someone unprovoked,” he raises a brow. You try not to smile at him taking your side—and it's easy, because they talk about you like a misbehaved pet. “She must have had good reason. Clean out your desk and get out of my sight.”

She lingers, disbelief painting her features and mixing with her anger. When she doesn't move, Snow tilts his chin down and glares.

“Now.”

It's here that her rage outweighs her sense. She loses it. “You're going to protect this animal over Capitol?” she yells, pointing at you.

Still riding the high of your violence, you bare your teeth. “I'm not–”

“Quiet,” Snow snaps.

You shut your mouth.

Ellyn shakes her head, her lips twitching. She looks straight at you, sighing. She steps forward, stopped by Snow's warning hand. She leans in, “You're a disgrace.”

Snow can't have such blatant disrespect.

“Pack your bags, Ms. Halper,” he says. “I'm sending you to the districts.” Her horror is palpable. “We'll see who the animal is. I'm sure they would love to get their hands on Capitol.”

Snow doesn't give her any more attention. He turns and walks away, your impending punishment terrifying as you listen to his steps. You huff gently at her, slowly allowing your lips to split into your triumphant grin.

Snow calls your name. Your lips fall. You turn.

“Lap dog,” she spits.

Your jaw ticks. You turn again, and watch her step back. Your lips part, but before any sound can actually breach your lips, Snow calls your name again, firmer this time.

You huff, harder this time, and leave. You try to wipe the sight of that terrible smile on her bloodied face from your memory.

~

“What was that?”

He's pissed. His jaw ticks as he sets his hands on his hips.

But there's enough anger to go around.

Smacking the files on the desk, just as loudly as before as you jut your finger out towards them in accusation, you counter, “What is this?”

He dismisses you carelessly. “That's my business. Not yours.”

Before he can speak again, you cut him off, speaking quickly and concisely. “In my contract, it says I take care of your needs. It also says that I am your secretary and personal assistant. I handle your accounts, your documents, everything—so that means this is my business.” Stepping close to his desk, you lean forward toward him and lower your voice. “What is this about?”

Instead of answering you, he straightens his back and lifts his chin. With an amused scoff, he smirks lightly. “You actually read your contract.”

You don't appreciate his taunts. You read the full extent of your contract years ago, and you make sure to reread it every month to ensure you've memorized every detail. If he's got you on a tight leash, you need to know how much room you actually have to move.

“Coriolanus,” you huff. You wish you could say you won't say it again, but he'd make you repeat a million times if he felt like it. And you would have to obey. “What is it about?”

He's silent as he thinks to himself, contemplating. How does he answer your question without giving you the power and the luxury of a response?

But it's easy for him to remember that he will always have the power. He will always have the upper hand.

He breathes in, and you watch his lips curve. “The Victors.”

“I heard that,” you say. “What about them?”

His smile grows. The mischief and cunning lights up in his eyes. He places his hands in his pockets, rounding his desk as he leans back on it, crossing his ankles as he does. “This deal between you and I works pretty well, I'd say.”

You clench your jaw, unhappy with where this conversation is leading. You shake your head, “And?”

“And,” he shrugs, “there are and will be plenty more victors out there fit to do the same.”

You lose some of your bravado, your anger and confidence replaced by hesitant disbelief. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Sometimes you forget that Snow was, in truth, an evil man. Between your nights of passion and unnecessary gifts, it's easy to forget about the monster underneath his façade of fancy suits and beautiful roses.

He circles your body, like predator to prey…as always.

“I make sure people stay interested in the Games. And people like to keep up with our Victors,” he turns toward you suddenly. “I mean, they seem to take plenty of interest in you.”

You shake your head, your voice weak, “Coryo.”

He ignores you, continuing on. “These Victors are interesting. And some are considered to be quite…attractive in some senses.” He stops in front of you, smiling evilly. “A contract here and a signature there–”

“Coryo,” you try again, your voice trembling this time.

“–and these rich cats can have a Victor all to themselves.”

“Coriolanus.”

He stops, watching you expectantly as you try to wrap your head around his vile proposal.

They didn't deserve this. These Victors have already been through so much and he wants to add more grief and misery to their lives?

You were already lost the moment he stepped foot in your house, the moment you signed that contract, the moment you fell to your knees in his office and had your first taste of him. There was no hope for you now.

He'd gotten you addicted a long time ago…

“These are people,” you all but beg, clasping your hands together in hopes of persuading him away from his sadistic plans, “they're human beings. They aren't animals for you to sell.”

He makes a face, smiling wide as he leans in. “They are animals.” You expected this response, but it still hurts for him to say it so indisputably. “And they're for me to do whatever I want with.”

You clench your teeth and watch him turn away again, reclaiming the file and dropping it into a drawer he pulls open. “And besides, they won't be sold indefinitely.” He looks up at you with that sly grin of his. “The Capitol should be able to have their fill…”

You scoff. “Oh, so they're not just your slaves, they're your prostitutes.” You can't believe him, though you know you should.

He’d done it to you. What was stopping him from doing it to the rest?

Hopefully, you.

“They're my pets,” he counters. He leans forward onto his desk. And he's so tall, that he manages to lean in so much that he can see each little fleck of your irises as you stare unblinkingly at him. “Just like you.”

You nod, pursing your lips. “Okay, then I'm your pet.” You lean in as well, this time. You lean in so close that he has no choice but to shift away from you. “Not them.” You lick your lip and round the desk, wanting so desperately for him to hear your voice for once.

You plead, because it's the only thing you can do. Your voice is quiet, desperate, weak. Just the way he likes it.

“Let them go. You do enough to them, they don't deserve this.”

He doesn't hear you. He doesn't care.

“They deserve whatever I decide.”

Your jaw tenses, your thoughts scrambling to figure out a solution. Any solution. You just need to persuade him, to change his mind. This doesn't need to happen.

But his eyes are so cold, so stoney, so lying. There's no sympathy there and there will never be sympathy there. So you try to sway him in the way you know best.

You drop to your knees, skilled and shaky hands grasping his belt as you begin to undo it quickly. “What are you doing?”

The metal clinks as you work at it, pulling it free from the first loop as you begin to take the latch from its adjusted position. “Changing your mind,” you answer plainly. As you loosen the belt, tugging on it to remove it from the loops of his pants. “This is what you want, isn't it? You're just trying to rile me up to get me to do what you want. I'll do it–”

“Get the fuck off me.”

He pushes you away, shoving you onto the floor like you're nothing. And to him, you are. Nothing.

He doesn't seem angry, just annoyed at your audacity… And then he seems amused. His face lifts and he begins to smile. His smile turns to a chuckle, and he shakes his head as he looks down at you, purely amused by your attempt at persuasion.

“Oh, I get it,” he laughs, walking toward you to properly tower over your meek body. “You think that because I fuck you that I actually care about what you want.” He pronounces the F to hurt, punching it while also saying it with such disregard that it truly shows how little it means to him… Nothing.

He kneels down, resting his arm on his knee and watching you with those taunting eyes. “This isn't about you,” he whispers. Though his voice is soft, it cuts like a knife. Your hands tremble as they lift you up.

He spews his poison without restraint. “You are an animal. And yes, you are my lap dog.”

He feigns sympathy and remorse that he isn't capable of. “You think I swooped in earlier and punished that stupid girl because she talked down to you? I punished her because you're mine, and if I let someone get away with disrespecting my things, no one will respect me.”

He spews all his hatred, and you take it all. “I couldn't care less that she called you an animal or a whore or whatever the fuck else because you are.” It's a slap in the face each time as his voice becomes more and more hateful. “You're my pet, and you're my whore. You belong to me.”

So far beyond difficult to resist another gulp.

You stare at him, your face fallen as you seem to learn your lesson for the thousandth time. You're nothing to him. You're just property, and you mean nothing.

He smirks, standing to his full height once more as you remain tossed to the floor. You stare at him, your fight diminished.

“Speak.”

Like a dog.

“Yes, Coryo.”

Obedient.

“Smile.”

It looks like a sneer.

“Yes, Coryo.”

Well-trained.

Your lips part as you open your mouth, dropping your jaw as you've been doing for years.

And though that satisfies him beyond all belief, that satisfaction is all he needs. “Close your mouth.”

Nothing.

“Yes, Coryo.”

Your monotonous tone falls silent as you await his next command, a dog waiting for orders from her master.

He bends down, grasping the front of your shirt in his fist and pulling close. His face is inches from his. You don't fight him, you don't resist in any way. You let him move you as he pleases, staring blankly at him.

He looks about the length of your face. His smile is wholly evil. “Don't forget what you are.”

Quiet, broken, weak is your voice. Just the way he likes it.

“Yes, Coryo.”

He hums, letting you go. “Good girl.”

~

PART SIX: Addiction

You hear the footsteps coming down the hall and ignore them all the same. Flipping the next page in your book, you sigh gently and pull your legs closer toward you. Just a couple more sentences is all you ask…

Your door opens without a knock, and you aren't surprised. This is his home, you are his pet. Why ask permission for something which belongs to him?

You force yourself to meet Coryo’s gaze, the exhaustion in your eyes clear. He's in the same clothes as before, though his hair is more relaxed and his shirt is looser, the top few buttons undone to let his chest peek from its hiding spot. With one last sigh, you close your book.

You slip off the bed, easing down to your knees. Letting your hands rest in your lap, you allow your jaw to drop open wide, ready to receive him as you push your tongue out over your bottom teeth.

He smirks lightly, his chuckle even lighter. “Down girl.” You close your mouth.

“How do you want me?”

He sighs gently, closing the door behind him and slowly walking inside. “Believe it or not,” he says, his voice gentle, “I'm not here for me, I'm here for you.”

You raise a brow, unimpressed and suspicious. “Why?”

Your attitude amuses him. He shrugs, taking a seat at the edge of your bed and looking down at you. It doesn't feel as condescending as it usually does. “Making up.”

Foolish hope sparks in your chest, but you don't let it show. “So you're not going through with it.”

“No, I am.” He hums, “But I can't have my pet neglected, now can I?”

You sigh, turning away from him. You don't know why you asked.

He pats the spot next to him. “Get back on the bed, my flower.”

You look down at your hands as you rub at your pinky. “Yes, Coryo.”

As you sit up, taking the spot next to him, he tuts gently. “Now, now. No need for that tonight,” he says, closing the gap between the both of you.

You look up at him, your attitude fully present still. “Yes, Coryo.”

He sighs. Coryo sets a hand on your knee, turning toward you. “You're upset,” he says. You scoff. “That's understandable. I upset you.”

You want to say something snarky, but you're on thin ice from today, and you don't need to make it thinner. You turn away, but he catches your gaze as he takes your chin with his crooked finger and turns you to face him again.

And you hate yourself for feeling cared for.

“Let me make it up to you.”

You hate the way you nearly melt. “You can make it up to me by letting them go.”

He hums, shrugging. “Or I can eat you out.” You feel like you might shake at the idea. When you don't speak, he raises his brows. “Unless you just want me to leave…”

He's manipulating you. You know he is. He's been doing it since the beginning. You'd think you had some sort of defense against him at this point, but he's had years of practice in bending you to his will, in getting you hooked on him.

He knows. He knows what you are.

You're feeding me poison.

And you give in. Because you've never been strong against him, not even for a moment. You give in because you're so addicted to him that you'd die without the taste of him on your tongue…

With a long sigh, you lay back against your pillows and spread your legs. His smile spread across his face in such a wicked way, self-satisfied and fully amused.

He sets a hand on your knee and shifts himself to kneel in front of you. He slowly pulls your panties down your legs and pushes your nightgown away, teasing you and increasing your still-there frustrations.

Yes, you've lost the ability to resist this man and his sexual prowess, but that doesn't mean you want to draw this out. It's shameful enough…

He knows this. That's why he does it.

His lips press to the inside of your knee, then further down your thigh, and then right back up. You huff silently, annoyed with his antics.

He gives you a disarming smile. “Come now, my flower,” he tuts. “I may be spoiling you but that doesn't mean we don't still have our manners.”

You lay your head back, sighing as you let your eyes shut. You lick your bottom lip. “Please, Coryo.”

He hums. “I am sure you can do far better than that.”

Maybe you should cry. Maybe if you cry, he'll think you're ugly and leave you to live back in your lonely home at Seven. He'll think you're too worthless to go back into the Games. You could sober up the hard way… He'll leave you be.

But you know Coriolanus, which means you know that would never happen. He'd tsk, tsk, tsk and tell you how perfect you look crying. He'd hold you down and fuck you and tell you to be a good girl and keep crying for him. And you would. You know would.

Besides, if he did cast you out, he would just choose someone else to take your place. Then he would do this to them.

Better you than someone else.

You look up at him, screwing your face into a self-pitying expression. Your voice is small and meek when you open your mouth.

“Please, Coryo,” you whisper, “I'm yours.”

Just the way he likes it.

Pleased, he presses another kiss to the inside of your thigh, and then lets the flat of his tongue lick along the seam of your pussy. A whimper slips from your lips at the feeling, and you let yourself fade into the pleasure.

You forget that this man is your captor, your master. You forget that he's the reason for your nightmares. You forget that he's dark, cruel, sadistic, that he does not truly care for you.

You lose yourself in the fantasy that he is a loving man who only wants to see you happy.

“Coryo,” you moan as he suckles eagerly at your clit, a man starved of his sweet wine. Coryo. Not Coriolanus. Not Snow. Your Coryo. Your gentle, loving Coryo. The man who held you when he wasn't forcing you to your knees and bidding you to be his good girl.

His fingers stroke inside of you, two long fingers curling with you as his tongue flicks at your clit. The stretch of his fingers is welcome, and you look down at his head nestled between your thighs. You whine at the feeling of his tongue, hungry and searching.

His dull nails dig into the flesh of your thigh. As his tongue delves inside of you with his lips suckling around you, you feel his nose press deliciously against the sensitive bundle of nerves, which aches for release.

Circling his head, your legs wrap around him and squeeze, the tension tightening in your belly as he works eagerly at your pleasure. You're helpless to him as sounds rise from your throat like a gentle hum. Again, you whisper his name, lost to the feeling of him. He grunts into you, your body warm with the vibration, with the warmth of his mouth, with the warmth of his hands on your thighs.

“Coryo,” you whimper as you feel your pleasure rising within you, tingling in your legs and in your toes. Your open-mouthed breaths make your throat dry, but it’s hard to focus on that when each breath you take fills your chest with more and more desire. “I’m so close,” you gasp. “Please, can I cum?”

Instead of answering, he just sucks harder on your clit, prying your thighs further apart as he licks you up. As that coil tightens in your belly, your legs tremble and almost fight against his grip keeping them apart. You grind your hips up to meet his face, he holds you down.

You know how he likes it—the grinding, the moaning, the pleading, the strength. And when the pleasure crashes down on you, your clit pulsing against each lick of his tongue as he continues to work you, you shut your eyes and let out the breathy moans he loves so much. Your chest is full of warmth.

I’m choking on this feeling I can’t help but swallow up.

“C-Coryo,” you mutter, the sensitivity becoming too much as your legs continue to tremble. You arch away from him, but he holds you tight and pulls you closer. He forces your legs apart still, not quite finished as he continues to suckle around your sensitive bud.

You gasp when he finally pulls away, satisfied with the taste of you. “What a good girl you are,” he murmurs, smiling almost wickedly—though you replace it with one full of love and care. One can only dream.

He crawls up your body, stalking like a predator as he leans in, his face inches from yours. You bring your hands up to his cheeks and pull him down to meet your lips, kissing him with all the passion you can muster. He cares, he cares, he cares.

He cares as he traces his tongue along the seam of your lips. He cares as he smooths his hand along your soft thigh. He cares as he brings your leg up against his side and grinds his hips against you. He cares as he digs his dull nails into your flesh like the claws of a lion. He cares as he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip like the fangs of a wolf.

He definitely cares as he brings a strong hand to your hair and tangles his fingers there with every intention of tugging you back to see your face. You whimper lightly, sinking into it and pretending the burn of your scalp is just the heat of your desire.

I made my choice and every night I’m wasted like there’s no tomorrow.

“You’re so pretty,” he smiles, and you fully understand the unspoken “like this” that follows his words but you choose to ignore it.

He kisses you again, this primal, devouring kiss you gladly mistake for ardor. He takes the bottom of your nightgown in his hand and pulls it up and over your head. You let him take it off of you. You let him strip you bare as his greedy hands smooth along the length of your body. Tentatively, not fully committed (you would be perfectly content with his lips on yours, kissing him forever under the illusion of simple intimacy), you pull at his belt. He undoes it and pulls it off entirely. You think he’ll toss it away, but it doesn’t.

“Open your mouth.”

Obediently, you do. He wraps the belt around your head, fitting it in your mouth as he loops it behind and pulls it tight. You nearly wince at the feeling, but he’s done worse. He unbuttons his pants, leaning down as he presses his lips to your neck. He kisses and sucks and nips at your throat, and you both let out deep moans that rumble in your chest when he presses inside of you.

You lean your head back, giving him more space to paint your neck in his claim. The taste of leather is strong on your tongue. Each breath you take is full of the earthy scent of his belt. You set your hands on his waist as he braces his fists on either side of your head. His thrusts are deep and rough. You feel his hips as he moves, his slender waist fits perfectly between your legs.

Your moans are muffled by his belt. As you dig your heels into his back, encouraging each thrust as he gives them, he grunts at the way you tighten around his cock. His hips snap into you with a greed that makes you crazy, that drives him wild. Taken by the pleasure, he grabbed the belt behind your head and pulled it in a way that made you look up at him.

His lips are plump from kissing you so roughly, his hair is loose and falling in delicate locks across his forehead, his breath fans gently across your own face. He looks pretty like this. Even with the predatory gaze in his eyes, he looks pretty. You want to kiss him but you don’t. You can’t.

He breath stutters in his throat after a particular thrust, and your eyes flutter shut as you moan at the feeling. He continues to fuck into you, like it’s the last time. There’s nothing gentle about it, nothing sweet or nice or careful. He fucks you to his own need, but knows you well enough that it would fill you with so much pleasure that it doesn’t matter if he does it for him.

And he knows you well enough that the lack of care he has in his thrusts fills you with so much longing that he doesn’t need physical pain to be sadistic.

He pulls out of you suddenly, his breath coming out in hot puffs as he leans back on his haunches. “Turn around,” he orders, though his voice is quieter—there’s no real need to bark with you.

Anyway you want me, baby, that’s the way you got me.

You do as you’re told, ignoring the discomfort in the loss of him inside of you as you sit up and move as quickly as you can with the sluggish nature of your desire for him mixing with your depletion. As soon as you’ve turned around, he doesn’t care to give you time to adjust to the new position before he’s grabbing the belt again, wrapping it around his fist, and taking your hip in his other hand as he shoves his cock into you once again.

You go to hang your head, the feeling too great, but you’re stopped by his grip of the belt. Setting the quickened pace at the beginning, he fucks into you fast and rough. The sound of his skin smacking against yours fills the room. A light sheen of sweat coats your body as the heat fills you inside and out. His name is muffled on your lips, but his grunts are clear in the air.

His hand on your waist circles around as he presses his fingers to your still-sensitive clit. He rubs fast circles against it, building you up, up, up. You can’t help but whine, you can’t help but feed his hunger as he fills you with pleasure. Your legs tremble, and with his skill, it isn’t long until he hurls you into your second orgasm.

You throw your head back and moan, the sound rough with your desperation. But he doesn’t stop. He isn’t finished. He fucks your sensitive cunt. His eyes flutter at the tightening of your cunt.

You feel so weak, tired from the exertion but not fully satisfied until you’ve given him all that he needs. You’ve been with this man for years and the conditioning settled in a long time ago.

I’ll be yours.

So, yes, he keeps going and keeps going and keeps going. He takes you on your back, he takes you on your hands and knees, he takes you against the wall (front and back), he takes you in his lap, and he never stops each time until you’ve come apart in his hands. Pent up with so much stress and spurred on by the fatigue in your eyes, he lasts through it all.

You don’t know how long you’ve been going by this point. All you know is the rhythm of his hips thrusting in and out and in and out as he pushes you down into the bed with your ass pulled up against his hips and your face buried in a pillow. His hands push against your back, keeping you down still. You can hear his breath, heavy with his own nearing exertion. His thrusts are beginning to lose their rhythm, becoming more and more desperate with his nearing release.

You can hardly keep your eyes open. All your breaths have been reduced to shallow whimpers, and as his finger presses against your clit again, a mewl slips from your throat as it pleads for relief and release alike. You hear him begin to curse under his breath, his thrusts rougher though not as steady. And he presses you further still as he moves closer, seeking his relief as it gets so close, he can taste it.

And, because you know him just as well as he knows you, you tip him over the edge as you let your lips part. Your voice is small and meek and whiny, a needy little cry that he hears because he craves it. “Coryo.”

“Oh, fuck,” he growls.

He fucks you hard in the first few seconds that he spills into you, his cum hot and plentiful as he moves himself farther against you as if he could go deeper still. And as his fingers flick at your clit, you accompany his needy moan with your own as you cum as well. You’re blinded by the feeling, left mewling as your eyes well with tired tears. It’s almost uncomfortable and you wince slightly when he presses a little too deep into you.

Coryo lingers there, his breath evening into a steadier rhythm as he eases off of you. You take in a full breath as he pulls out of you, closing your eyes and going limp against the sheets. Your body is so heavy, full of the exhaustion that has haunted you for years, exhaustion that comes with belonging to Coriolanus Snow. You wish you could slow down, take a breath, but whatever Snow wants, Snow gets.

My story’s gonna end with me dead from your poison.

Coryo runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh. He picks your nightgown up from the floor and wipes the both of you clean with the smallest modicum of care. You feel his knuckles brush against your shoulder and you shiver as he lets it graze gently along your spine. He stops it at the dip of your back.

Coryo turns off your bedside lamp, crawling into the bed as he shifts behind you, a gentle hand falling to your side as he pulls you into his body. And you actually find comfort in his arms as he pulls you closely to his body. His head rests in the crook of your neck, your body is pulled flush against his. His warmth seeps into your skin and you let your eyes flutter shut as he pulls the covers over your bodies.

And for a moment, everything is perfect. For a moment, you trick yourself into believing that this man can be capable of love.

But you feel his arms tightening around you until your lungs are so tight that it’s nearly impossible to breathe. You feel his nails, eager and greedy, digging into your flesh, and you wince at the terrible sting of them. He pulls you closer, not just seeking your warmth, but seeking full control and possession over something that already belongs to him. You silence your whimper.

I’m drowning in poison. I keep fillin’ my glass but it’s always hollow, full of poison.

When you can get past the pain of his embrace, you manage to lull yourself to sleep. You rest in his clutch and indulge in the false security of his empty arms.

But your rest is short-lived. Because halfway through the night, he wakes. Coryo opens his eyes and loosens his hold on you. You rouse from your own sleep but you stay perfectly still with closed eyes and steady breath. He lets go of you completely, getting out of the bed and leaving the room with silent steps. He has work to do.

I’m sick of the poison.

Once the door is closed, you’re left cold and alone. You curl up in on yourself, turning your head into the pillow as you feel the dam break. And like an idiot, you cry into your pillow. Your chest stutters with all the pain and weariness and hopelessness you carry with you through the day, through the night. You let it out, but it never seems to fade. And as the fatigue takes over once more, you let it take you into a sleepless kind of sleep where your nightmare of holding love in your hands plays in your mind over and over and over again.

Wish I had something to live for tomorrow.

Coriolanus Snow taglist: @the-nerdy-goddess Tag yourself here...

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader smut #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #fanfic #fanfiction

[moonsgemini]

dress - rafe cameron

summary: she’ll always wish she could enjoy the midsummer’s celebrations instead of working at it, but her secret moments with the kook prince make the bad tips worth it

warnings: rafe x pogue!reader, typical classist stuff but not from rafe, fluff, angst, mutual pining, alcohol, kissing

wc: 3.5k

an: this is based off of dress by taylor swift but my own interpretation of it I guess. If you guys want a pt. 2 with smut let me knoooow, I’m such a s!ut for rafe cameron pleaaaase

our secret moments in a crowded room, they got no idea about me and you

Midsummer was probably her least favorite day of summer. You’d think that being a bartender on the day that the whole figure eight came to the country club would bring in lots of tips right? Well wrong. During midsummer’s the drinks were complimentary and there was just a tip jar for cash tips. Kooks don’t usually carry around cash, or really tip for that matter. Also seeing all the kooks dressed in their pretty dresses and cute flower crowns made y/n go green with jealousy. She desperately wished she could attend as a guest and get to dress up and enjoy the food. Y/n would be dreading this shift if she didn’t have something to look forward to.

She had looked over herself in the mirror a million times, making sure her dress still looked as good on her as it did in the dressing room mirror yesterday. The tag was securely tucked into her side because she may have run up her credit card to be able to afford it so she had to return it after. Bartenders didn’t have as strict as a uniform as the waiters did. Her manager allowing them to wear black dresses for the night, and of course she was going to jump at the opportunity to wear something nicer than her boxy polo uniform and tennis skirt.

Her makeup and hair had been done to the best of her ability, without it seeming like she was trying too hard. Y/n would never admit to any of her friends or family that she was dressed up in order to impress a certain kook prince. The same kook prince she had spent months crushing on, and he never helped make the crush go away because he would shamelessly flirt with her every time he was at the country club. It was more like banter, she had a feeling he never really meant anything he said. But it felt so good to feel wanted.

When Rafe would see her around the outer banks he would smirk at her or give her a nod as to say hi. At parties sometimes he’d go up to her and make some small conversation. Teasing her about what drink she had or making sure that she didn’t give her number to that guy that was flirting with her. They’d be making conversation and she would take a step towards him wanting nothing more than to be wrapped in his arms and his scent. But then her friends would come and think they were saving her from the kook prince and pull her away, sending a glare Rafe’s way. She’s look back at him apologetically and he’d just give her a tight lipped smile and walk to the other side of the party.

Rafe really liked her, he liked making her laugh and smile. He wished he could make her quit her job and just come live with him, he’d take care of her. She’d never have to worry about bills or rent ever again. His friends always made fun of him for flirting with a pogue but he didn’t care. They’d say he was scraping the bottom of the barrel, that he had already gone through all the girls from figure eight so now he was entertaining a pogue. Rafe never let them get away with their jokes. He’d glare at them and punch them in the arm or kick them in the shin. He’d defend her honor saying she’s different and she’s a better friend than they’ll ever be.

All Rafe could do was think about her while he was getting ready. He knew she’d be there and he wanted to look extra nice. Tonight felt like the night he would actually ask her out. Y/n was a good listener, she was always there for him. At first he thought it was just because she was stuck behind the bar so she had to listen to him, but then he’d see her at parties and she still had that look in her eyes. That look that she was listening to him, actually listening to him. He felt like he was on a cloud with the way she looked at him like he was the most important thing in the world.

When she arrived to the country club she started getting all her things ready, the guests would start arriving in a few minutes. Stocking up on scotch and the best wines, she knew those would be the popular drinks tonight. As she worked diligently her mind wandered to Rafe, like it always did.

She wondered if he’d be the same as always despite his family being here. She wanted nothing more than to spend the night with him, but not while she served him drinks. She wanted to dance with him and drink with him, and then go home together at the end of the night.

Guests had started arriving, her eyes looking out for the dirty blonde. She was so excited and a bit anxious to see him all dressed up, knowing he’d look extra handsome. An hour had passed and she still hadn’t seen him. The country club was now filled with kooks and her tip jar only filled with about $20 when she’s certain she’s made twenty martinis and poured just as many scotch’s.

As she was handing Mrs.Weatherby her glass of merlot smiling at the older woman her eyes caught her favorite blue ones. Rafe stood across the room with Kelce and Topper. He wasn’t paying any attention to what Topper was saying as he watching y/n from across the room. When their eyes met a lopsided smile formed on his lips. Her cheeks felt hot as he looked her up and down, as much as he could despite the bar being in the way.

Y/n begged with her eyes for him to come over, to save her from the boring night. He knew her better than she thought as he started walking over, saying something to the guys that he’d be back. But as he was crossing the room his dad stepped in front of him.

Ward put a hand on his son’s shoulder, “Rafe please, don’t start drinking yet. This is supposed to be a nice night okay? Lets take it slow.” He turned him around to walk out toward the patio.

“Yeah sure dad.” He muttered not wanting to make a scene. He followed him out but looked behind him to catch the eyes of the girl he was infatuated with.

His heart sank a little as he saw her bright eyes dull a little with sadness. She tried her best to put on a smile and not show her disappointment but he knew her better than she thought. Ward had no idea of Rafe’s crush and even if he did he probably wouldn’t care. He’d probably be disappointed in his son for liking someone like her, then he’d tell him that she probably only wants him for his trust.

all of this silence & patience, pining & anticipating, my hands are shaking from holding back from you

The first few hours of the night their eyes just met, hers pleading him to come over and talk to her. Give her something to think about tonight before she went to bed. His eyes begged her to forgive him for not giving her the attention she deserved, especially in that dress. He hoped that she wore it just for him, it made her look ethereal. Rafe’s legs ached from trying to stop himself from walking over and kissing her with everything he had.

As the night went on she was always on his mind. He hated this stupid midsummer’s stuff, mostly because he couldn’t share it with the one person he wanted. It was filled with snobby people and teenager’s getting drunk on booze they had snuck in.

Rafe kept getting stuck in conversations with his dad’s colleagues, Ward wanting him to be more involved in the business. Or he’d be with Topper, Kelce, and some other guys having a meaningless conversation about lacrosse or surfing. Whenever he got the chance he’d look over at her and she’d have a smile on her face handing some old dude a drink. He knew it wasn’t her real smile, then her eyes would look over at him and that’s when her real smile would come out.

“Uh I’m gonna get a drink,” Rafe said trying to excuse himself from his friends. His dad would be fine with him having a drink now, it’s been three hours since the night started. Three hours of his fingers tingling with the want of tucking that hair that kept falling in her face behind her ear.

“I’ll go with you dude. I need a refill,” Topper said holding up his empty glass. Rafe held in the urge to roll his eyes, he wanted to go alone.

y/n was wiping down the bar when they approached. She looked up meeting eyes with her favorite boy, but then she looked over to his left and their Topper was

“What can I get you guys?” She asked looking between them, smiling at Rafe.

“Long island,” Topper said placing his empty glass down.

“Can I get a rum and coke please?” Rafe asked, resting his hands on the bar.

“Of course,” she nodded with a grin.

Rafe watched her as she prepared the drinks. Topper was trying to talk to him about who knows what, he couldn’t care less. He couldn’t pay attention even if he wanted to with that dress she had on. It fit her so perfectly, he wondered what it’d feel like under his hands. What it’d feel like to push it up as he touched the expanse of her thighs. Wondered what it’d feel like to hold her waist as he kissed her. If her skin was as soft as it looked.

“Bro you’re not even listening,” Topped said as he hit Rafe’s shoulder.

“Long island,” Y/n places the drink in front of him.

“You’re right I’m not.” Rafe rolled his eyes.

Topper took his drink without even thanking her, “Whatever dude I’m gonna find Sarah.” Finally Rafe was alone with his girl.

She placed his glass in front of him, “So where have you been all night?”

“Uh my dad didn’t want me to drink earlier,” He shrugged. He knew it was a half assed excuse.

“You don’t need to order a drink to come see me.”

He ran a hand through his hair, “I-I know but my dad thought that I was just coming over for a drink.”

She laughed bitterly not at Rafe but at the whole situation, “When I’m with you I forget I’m a uh pogue.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me,” He reached out to touch her lightly. She leaned into his touch slightly, yearning to feel anything from him.

Her manager walked in, “Y/n, take your fifteen.” Taking over he place behind the bar, Rafe pulled his hand away from her.

“Uh yeah,” She gave him a tight lipped smile before walking to the back room. Rafe sighed and walked back out to where his friends were.

if I get burned at least we were electrified, I’m spilling wine in the bath tub you kiss my face & we’re both drunk

Y/n stood in the back leaning against the wall. She hated this town. She hated the labels everyone put on each other, it made her life so much harder. It was so easy when she was around Rafe even if it was a few minutes at a time. But then there was always something that reminded her of who she was and where she came from. It was either Ward, her friends, Rafe’s friends, her bosses. Someone always had to remind her where she was and who she was.

She rolled her eyes at herself. She walked into the back, in search of a bottle of wine. She found one she thought she’d like, popping it open and pouring herself a glass. Y/n felt like she deserved it, especially after tonight. The night wasn’t going exactly as planned, so she might as well drink.

After three full glasses of red wine her break was over. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to drink while on the clock because now everything looked a little fuzzy.

“I’m back,” She slurred to her manager.

Lisa eyed her suspiciously, “Are you drunk?”

“No never,” She gave her a toothy grin trying to hide her tipsiness. The alcohol affecting her more and more as the seconds passed.

Lisa sighed, “Y/n you can’t be like this here right now. You know how bad this would look. If you get one of these jerk offs orders wrong and they smell that merlot on your breath they’ll have you banned.” Lisa tried her best to look out for the girl because she knew she didn’t have anyone that was looking out for her.

Her eyes watered at the thought of losing the only job she had been able to get on this whole island, “I-I can’t lose this job. I need this.”

Lisa sighed, “Go home. I’ll cover for you, and you can still keep the tips okay? Only because I care about you.”

Y/n sniffled bringing the older woman into a hug, “Thank you Lisa, I owe you.”

“Get home safe okay, call someone.” Lisa said rubbing her back. She walked (stumbled a bit) to the back to grab her bag.

even in my worst times you could see the best of me

Y/n didn’t know who to call, her friends were all at parties probably drinking as well. Her parents weren’t in her life. The one person who could help her had been watching her from across the room. Concern written all over his face. She looked at him with teary eyes and he was already taking long strides towards her. She met him halfway, the tag from her dress itching her side.

“Rafe,” Her voice was shaky as she hugged herself looking for some comfort. She knew this was all her fault, she shouldn’t have had that wine. She felt like she was always making mistakes like this.

Rafe’s hands held her face, “What happened? Did someone do something?” He asked with worry and a bit of anger. If one of these kooks made his girl cry they’d have him to deal with.

“No no I did something. I-I drank some wine on my break. I’m drunk Rafe and Lisa told me to go home. She um she said she’ll let me keep the tips today but uh can you take me h-home?” She asked barely taking a breath.

He brushed her hair back, “Hey breathe, I’ll take you home okay baby.”

“I’m sorry Rafe, I-I shouldn’t take you away. I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. I’m glad I get to get away from this shit, especially if it’s with you.”

Ward had been watching the interaction from outside. He eyed as his son held the bar tender who he felt was trying to hard to look like she fit in with them, her dirty sneakers gave her away. In her defense you can’t really bartend in heels.

He walked over to them before they could leave, “Uh Rafe, what are you doing?” He didn’t spare a glance at the disheveled girl.

Rafe stood up straight, “I’m taking her home dad.”

“Who is this? The bartender? You can’t leave now. There’s still some guys I need to introduce you to.” He treated her like she was nothing.

“No dad I’m taking her home, this is more important.” Rafe wrapped his arm around her shoulders to lead her towards the exit.

Ward grabbed his arm as he tried to walk past him, “Don’t disappoint me son.”

He shrugged his shoulder to get him off, “You’ve made it clear plenty of times that it’s too late for that.”

They didn’t make a big scene but some people had been watching. They watched as the oldest Cameron led the girl outside, a pogue. Tomorrow word would spread all across the island just how cozy they were. Ward would berate Rafe about it but right now he didn’t care, he just wanted to get his girl away from everyone.

Y/n couldn’t believe Rafe had done that for her. He dropped everything for her, she really did feel like he was a prince.

only bought this dress so you could take it off

Rafe kept glancing over at her as he drove to her house. He was worried about her, she looked so sad and he hated seeing her sad. Her head was leaning agains the passenger window just looking out into the darkness.

“Sweetheart what’s wrong?” He finally asked breaking the silence.

She sighed looking over at him, “I feel like an idiot.”

“Why?”

“I put on this stupid dress that I can’t even afford and I got too drunk while I was working. I took you away from the party.” She shook her head at herself.

Rafe pulled into the driveway of her small house, her grandma had left it for her after she passed a few years ago. It was the perfect house for her but now she had to work overtime to keep up with bills.

“Lets talk once we get inside,” Rafe turned the car off and ran over to open her door.

They walked into her house, Rafe had never been there. This is the most time they’ve ever been able to spend alone, without anyone being able to interrupt them or pull them away from each other. He liked her house, it was very her. Warm lighting and pictures everywhere. She sat on the couch setting her bag onto the ground.

“You look amazing, this dress looks amazing on you.” He said as he sat next to her. She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I wore this for you. I wanted to impress you, instead I embarrassed myself.” She closed her eyes thinking about the events of the night.

Rafe turned to her, “I would drop everything for you. I have been dying inside to spend this night with you.”

“Really?” She asked looking at him with stars in her eyes.

“Yes, baby. And this dress does look amazing on you. You look perfect. I’ve wanted you since the first day we met at the club.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.

Her face flushed at the compliments, “But why? I’m just me. I don’t have anything, I can’t even afford this dress. I’m just a bartender.”

He shook his head, “None of that shit matters to me. You actually listen to me and you care about me more than my shithead friends ever have. I only go to those stupid parties to see you.”

“Rafe, I care about you so much.”

He couldn’t take it anymore, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his. They were slightly swollen from the few tears she had shed earlier in the night. Her lips tasted like merlot she had downed. They moved in sync as if they had been doing this forever. He smelt like expensive cologne and she wanted to drown in it, she wanted to drown in him. His lips felt so good against hers, she had been dreaming about this moment for ages.

Her hands slid up his chest and into his hair. Pulling at the dirty blonde locks to encourage him. Rafe’s hands slid up and down her waist. Finally feeling the dress he had thought about all night. As the kiss grew more passionate he grabbed her hips and tugged her towards him. He pulled her to sit on his lap, her legs on either side of him. His fingers slowly slid up her thighs pushing her dress farther up, almost fully around her hips. Y/n’s thighs were just as soft as he imagined. His mind was racing with thoughts of everything he wanted to do to her.

The small whines that left her lips encouraged him to keep going. One hand moving behind her to give her ass a squeeze. He pulled away to press kisses against her neck making goosebumps rise on her skin. Her hands moving back and forth from tugging his hair to pulling at his blazer to get him impossibly closer.

“Baby,” He mumbled against her neck. She just hummed in return, too lost in the feeling of his lips on her. Tasting her like she’s always wanted him to.

“I want to keep going, but I know you’ve drank tonight. I want you to be be a hundred percent sober when I do everything I’ve always dreamed about doing to you,” He said looking up at her. He almost regretted his words and took her right then and there when he saw her swollen lips and hazy lust filled eyes.

She took a deep breath to get herself to focus. Her senses were overloaded on Rafe, “Okay, can you stay? Please?”

He leaned forward giving her another kiss, “Of course, I’ll always stay.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron au #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #outer banks

[marvelfanfics1]

Paci kisses 🥺 I lub it!!!!! And so you can do may be winterwindow x little reader x little Peter where the reader Slips in babyspace and always wanna give them paci kisses so they are at the avenger tower on a Visit and baby goes to uncle Steve and give him a paci kiss on the cheek and then she goes to everyone and gives all paci kisses and little petie get jealous (may be tom Peter) and crawl to him and gives him paci kisses all over his face after that she climbed on daddy's lap and gives him paci kisses like she does with mommy and everyone adores the scene 🥺🥺

Kisses for everyone

Pairing: cg!Winterwidow x little!reader x little!peter

Warnings: Age Regression, lots of kisses, pure fluff, jealousy, not proofread

A/n: This has been sitting in my drafts for so long I'm sorry 😭🙏🏻

                                   ⭒𖥸⭒

The second the elevator door opened to the common floor Peter ran out and jumped on the big couch, reserving a seat for him and you like he does every time for movie night.

Bucky shook his head with a smile and turned his attention to you. Today you felt smaller than usual, which neither your caregivers nor Peter mind. They love you, doesn't matter the headspace.

"You okay, baby?" he asked and you nodded, smiling behind your paci you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

Bucky walked over to Peter to hand you in his awaiting arms, knowing the boy could get fussy when he doesn't have his cuddle partner. To be fair, Peter is very protective over you and when you're in babyspace he's constantly on alarm, making sure you're happy and safe.

Half an hour later the common area was filled with chatter and laughter, everyone talking about how they have been before it was time to decide on a movie together. While the heroes chat you were going around giving each person a cuddle and a paci kiss, it's nothing new to the others how affectionate you can be.

Right now you were on Steve's back, arms wrapped around his neck and giggling, moving your head forward to give him a paci kiss against his cheek and letting out a surprised squeal when he pretended to drop you. If only you knew that you were the only little having so much fun at this moment. Peter was pouting on the couch with his arms crossed.

He doesn't know why he feels this way but seeing you giving everyone in the room the love and attention that he and your mommy and daddy were usually getting only, has him sulking on the large couch.

Natasha being the attentive assassin she is noticed almost instantly what was going on. She stopped her conversation with Clint and made her way to sit next to Peter nudging his shoulder.

"Wanna tell me what got you all pouty?" she teased, pulling slightly at his bottom lip that was jutted out.

He smiled a little but went back to frowning at his mommy before mumbling. "Just wanna have tiny for me alone..."

"Ah, I see..." She replied, moving some of his curls from his face and leaning closer to whisper to him. "Give it some time and she will be glued to your side."

On the other side of the couch, you were sitting on your knees between Bucky and Steve, occasionally listening to their conversation and looking around until your daddy tapped your thigh to get your attention.

"I think Peter needs some snuggles from his little sister, you think you can help him out?" he asked and you nodded your head proudly, a big smile forming behind your paci.

You instantly crawled your way over to Peter, shocking him first but he smiled the second you leaned forward to give him a paci kiss, and not just one, you kissed him all over his face until you were sure he was his happy self again.

"Lub Petie," you said proving it by giving him one last paci kiss on his lips.

"I lub you too, Tiny." he smiles brightly wrapping his arms around you to pull you in for a long hug.

When you were sure he was satisfied with the attention you gave him you switched from Peter to sitting on Bucky's lap, reaching over to play with your mommy's hair and also giving her and your daddy a paci kiss while the others cooed at the whole interaction.

⭒𖥸⭒

Taglist

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse @paisley-yy

Crossed out are the ones I somehow can't tag!

#little!reader #little reader #winterwidow x little reader #winterwidow x little!reader #daddy!bucky barnes x little!reader #daddy!bucky barnes #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy!bucky #daddy bucky barnes x little reader #daddy bucky x little reader #daddy bucky #daddy bucky barnes #daddy!bucky x little!reader x mommy!natasha #daddy bucky x little reader x mommy natasha #mommy!natasha x little!reader #mommy!nat x little!reader #mommy!natasha #mommy!nat #mommy nat x little reader #mommy natasha x little reader #mommy natasha #mommy nat #little!peter x little!reader #little!peter parker #little!peter #little peter x little reader #little peter parker #little peter #cg!winterwidow x little!reader x little!peter #cg winterwidow x little reader x little peter

[n3ptoonz]

Hello! Can you write Baraka, Syzoth, Kenshi and Liu Kang reacting to an s/o who likes to trace their tattoos. (Also tattoos are hot)

hiya and i certainly can anon! (i fully agree. whenever i see THAT raiden skin i literally want to jump through a closed window)

mk1 hcs: how baraka, syzoth, kenshi, and liu kang react to their s/o tracing their tattoos

warnings: none; fluff

Baraka

Would be confused at first. He had lost most of his sense of humanity since his affliction, so he'd think you just got bored or wanted his attention

When you explained how his tats were interesting and wanted to know the reasons/origins of them, he was genuinely surprised. Nobody has ever asked him such a thing, let alone pay that much attention to him or his tattoos

Now he doesn't mind it and lets you do as you please. He purposely wears sleeveless shirts around you all the time just so you'll get the idea to trace his tats later

Syzoth

Since the first noticeable tattoo is on his face, he'd get startled the first time you did it. You were waiting for him to wake up one day and became interested in them suddenly

He'd ask what's so cool about tattoos in the first place since he's not originally human. It's not that he doesn't value them, but to him they are more important in the sense of they reminded him of his family (i made that shit up don't quote me), not necessarily "cool" and you had to explain you took interest in all the above

Now he fully welcomes it and would probably go as far as being around you more often to get you to notice and engage in some form of physical touch that ends up in tracing his tattoos

Kenshi Takahashi

I feel like sometimes he didn't like his own tats. Being a former Yakuza and all, he wouldn't get why you think they're cool. You tell him despite their origin they objectively look really cool and make him look even cooler/finer and now he's a happy camper

Whatever his thoughts were slowly vanished out of his own mind. Though he can't really see them anymore, he likes that someone he's in love with is for one not scared away by his past but also thinks they make him look cooler? After a while he'd start appreciating them himself

Also the type of man to walk around the house either shirtless or a tank top more often because "he gets hot easily" righttt righttttt. He loves the sensation of your touch on his body too. I'll never stop advocating for him appreciating other senses more post losing his sight!!!

Liu Kang

He has a lot of tats so like, he's going to think you're asking for a lil alone time wink which he doesn't oppose to but sometimes you simply just find interest in appreciating his ink

He will not shy away from telling you the origins and history behind each and every one. He'd even show you the ones he got for fun. He may be a god, but he was human first who lowkey liked to have as much fun as his comrade, Kung Lao, he was just better at hiding it

He now offers you to do it while you're cuddling or just chilling around each other; in reality he looks forward to it since he's never heard of such a fascinating with something like tattoos and it brought you two closer

a/n: i hope this was good enough! i've been writing so much lately just in general my brain is kinda mush ngl but i ain't no bitch! plus i gotta think more for smut so i went for fluff lol

#n3ptoonz #mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk baraka #reptile mk #syzoth #kenshi takahashi #liu kang mk1 #liu kang #baraka x reader #reptile x reader #syzoth x reader #kenshi takashi x reader #liu kang x reader #mk fluff #fluff

[sarawritestories]

Hello! Could i request a cassian fic where reader and cassian are gone on a mission but reader gets her cycle halfway and when they stay overnight at an inn or something cassian finds reader really exhausted and numb and puts the pieces together realising she might be on her period because she is too shy to tell him. so cassian helps her through her cramps and all. Just lots of fluff.

This is absolutely perfection! I hope I did this justice for you! This also features a trop I was requested to do by @hellodarling1357 that may include one bed 😄

I Got You, Sweetheart

Cassian X fem Reader

Summary: Going on a mission with Cassian is all fun and games until your cycle makes an unexpected appearance.

Content warning: none

Word Count: 1.7 k

ACOTAR Masterlist

“Keep up slowpoke. We’re almost there.” Cassian yells from a mile away the warmth and light of the Spring Court sun making him almost ethereal. I scowl at him as I huff breath leaning against the tree trunk trying to catch my breath. This trek on the hillside of the Spring court wouldn’t be an issue for me but today the incline is exhausting me. Cassian began running in place only to be stopped by him sneezing. I giggle as I continue forward handing him my handkerchief when I walk past. “I fucking hate this place.” Cassian grumbles as he blows his nose.

 I look out at the expanse of land that lives in eternal spring. The vibrant hues of the territory were beautiful various shades of greens and pinks. Greenery everywhere even when walking into the village. I take a moment and let the warmth of the sun kiss my skin and warm my face. “Its not all bad,” I look to him and wink, as he scratches your chest, “One day we’ll get you a tonic so you can actually enjoy being here.”

Cassian stops scratching and continues forward, “I doubt I would like it. With the High Lord being a prick.” I roll my eyes and follow him. Ironically enough Feyre was the one that asked us to come here and try to provide aid to the villages. When she asked, I could see the guilt on her face, she felt bad for how she handled destroying her former lover’s court, and no one had seen Tamlin in a few months.  I agreed and she insisted I bring Cassian and gave me a suggestive look as she did. Busybody.

 Looking in front of me and admired the General’s wings twitching, itching to spread out but he was not taking any chances of an enemy aiming for them. “I can feel you staring, Sweetheart.”

 He speaks out and I jump as we reach another steep incline. I took another deep breath and kept moving. I keep my focus on the back of Cassian’s head and force down the exhaustion and the slight pain in my abdomen.

We reach the village when the sun begins to set, and I grab Cassian’s arm as I look at the sun going down the various shades of orange and pink painting the sky in a bloom of color. “I should ask Feyre to paint more scenery pieces. This view is breathtaking.” I lean my head on his arm as Cassian chuckles.

“Tell me are you going to fill the house of wind with all of Feyre’s paintings?”

“Maybe. And when I get done with all the public areas, I’ll start redecorating rooms.” I smirk at him, “Starting with yours.”

Cassian squints his eyes and gets close to my face our foreheads touching, “You wouldn’t dare.”

I giggle and flick his nose, “You’re cute when you’re acting like you don’t like the idea of me in your room.”

Cassian blinked and straightened back to his full height clearing his throat ready to change the subject. A wave of pain ran through my abdomen again and I winced in pain, Cassian’s brows knitted together, scanning me as if he can see where the source of my pain came from, “You alright?”

I wave him off, “I’m sure I’m just hungry. Should we find an Inn?” Cassian nods and leads us into a village, his wing extending to me, to shield me from the temperature dip as the sun lowered.

The inn was full of loud boisterous patrons. The low lighting of the fae lights cast a warm glow over the tavern portion. Patrons filled the tables some were a few farmers cheering for a fruitful harvest. There was a family enjoying their dinner and faintly in the back corner two lovers were tied in an embrace. Cassian’s breath warmed my pointed ear, “Go find a seat I’ll get us a room.”

 I nod and look for a seat. Finding a spot near the stairs that lead to the rooms, I plop on the seat and exhaustion hits me full force followed by another bout of pain. I groan and place my head on the cool wooden table. The sounds of the tavern become muted as I close my eyes and try to ignore the pain and then I smell it and my eyes blink open wide. No. No. it can’t be. I’m two weeks early, and I’m growing dizzy. I try to move to sit up against the wall, my head swirling and swirling to the point of feeling numb.

 Cassian comes in, “They had one room left with two beds.” He smiles and he looks at me and he frowns.

I raise my arm to poke his cheek, “Hey, you turned your smile into a frown. Fix it.”

He grips my wrist, “What is goin-“ Then his eyes goes wide. “Ohhh. Come on, let’s get you upstairs.” He helped me up, His hand staying on my back just to let me know he was there.

 We reach the top of the stairs; Cassian grabs my hand and leads me to our room. When he turns the key and Cassian curses. I look inside, the last room with two beds, looks awful like one bed. And a bad Cramp made me cling to Cassian in a whimper, “Cass.” I tilted my head up to blink away the tears.

Maybe it’s the delirium I give him a weak smile, “Can I have you?”

Cassian looks down at me his mouth in a tight libe, and his warm eyes fill with concern. He hooks his arms under my knees and wrapped and around my shoulders, “I got you, Sweetheart.” I lean my head around his neck, and I barely notice his heartbeat as he crosses to the bed. He places me down tenderly. “I need to grab some things for you, beautiful. Do you want anything in particular?” He crouches down to meet my eyes and brushes my hair behind my ear, and I lean into his touch.

Cassian smiles, and kisses my forehead, “We can talk about that when I get you everything you need.” He stands and I grip his hand, “Sweetheart, you need a tonic for the pain, you will need fresh undergarments, you need your nightgown. Please let me take care of you.” He bends down to kiss my knuckles. “I won’t be long.”

I must have fallen asleep because I awoke to Cassian nudging me. I peel my eyes open and smile as his hazel eyes and met mine, “Hi.”

Cassian’s grin broadens, “Hey, you.” He has a vial in his hand, “Sit up for me, will your sweets.”

I attempt to but then a sharp waive of pain washed over me and I cried out, “Cassie, it hurts.” Cassian’s face falls, I only pull out that name when things are out of control.

“I know, baby, let me help take the pain away but I need you to at least lift your head, can you do that?”

I slowly nod and l lift my head, Pain explodes behind my eyes, but I grit my teeth and keep my head there as Cassian uncorks the vial. He cups my cheek trying to hold my head up for me, wiping tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Open for me.” I open my mouth and he tilt the vile so the liquid can go down my throat. He gently lays my head back down. “You want me to help get you in comfortable clothes?”

I nod my head, “Please, anything that can keep me from getting up would be preferred.” I whispered. He nodded and with skill and precision he got me out of my leathers and into the night gown he provided. I turned to my side so I could face him as he grabbed something from his bag, “What’s that?”

He smiled and opened the bag to reveal a piece of chocolate cake, I smiled. “I figured you could use it.”

I looked at him and tears began to form, “You’re too good to me. I envy the female who ends up your mate. She will be very lucky.”

Cassian’s face fell as he tore a piece of the cake with his fork and held it to my lips, I took a bite and hummed in approval. Cassian bit his lip and looked at me, “I have a mate.”

My hormones are raging, and my tears become soft sobs, at least that’s what I’m telling myself. “What’s she like? Do you like her? Does she know?”

Cassian takes a bite of the cake. “I don’t know. How Would you describe yourself?”

I furrow my brow as he places the fork with a bite of the cake that I graciously take and then it hit me. The bond snapped and the gold tether led me to Cassian. “Cass.”

He shushes me. “We will talk about it when you’re better. Right now, my mate is hurting, and I would very much like to take care of her.”

Tears kept flowing as he feeds me more cake, “She would like that.” Another wave of pain hits me, and my sobs take over. Cassian walks away and pulls off his leathers, replacing them with sleeping pants and climbs over me to the other side of the bed.

He gently turns me over and maneuvers us so my head is on his warm chest and his wing curved over me to provide extra warmth. And he holds me like that until my sobs get under control and he rubs his hand up and down my arm in soothing circles. My eyes began to droop, “Cassian?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” His voice was laced with sleep as well.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Cassian kisses my forehead, and the tip of my nose and his lips meet mine in a tender loving kiss. When he pulls away, he presses his head to mine, “I wanted to do that for so long.”

I yawn and shut my eyes, “Now you can kiss me for say eternity.”

Cassian yawns as well, “Sounds like a good plan.”

Thanks for reading!

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian x you #cassian imagine #cassian fluff #acotar fluff

[selfinsertmadness]

i have a really cool prompt

hope you like my idea,

could you perhaps write a story about the current logan situation with loganxy/n ??

i love your blog soooo muchhhh

Logie and the Australian car incident

pairing: AstonMartin!y/n x Logan Sargeant (can be read platonically or romantically)

author's note: I haven't written any fanfic stuff in literal years (middle school me is quacking) but I tried my best with that one. Looking forward to any suggestions or critiques you may have :) (insert obligatory English is not my native language here) (please send promts!!!!)

The day starts off as any other day on a busy race weekend would and you are busy running around the Aston Martin garage making sure everything is in order before you return to your place at the back of the garage. You let your gaze sweep over the garage one last time before getting out your work phone and texting your boss, Lawrence, that everything is in order. The cars seem good, the mechanics had no complaints and Lance and Fernando were reasonably happy with everything. A satisfied smile washes over your face, your job was busy but reasonably easy, as the team caretaker your sole mission was to make sure the team was happy, the drivers taken care of, and the PR supervisors were not losing their minds running after their drivers while also texting Lawrence even the most minute details about his son and the other driver.

It seems quite redundant to you, but Lawrence Stroll pays well and who are you to turn down a job as a glorified team nanny.

You take a seat at the back and watch the first practice session absentmindedly, letting your gaze wander down to your phone occasionally, and scrolling through Twitter, scoffing at all the hate towards the current grid. It never ceases to amaze you how people can be so hateful, but then again, some people are just unhappy about their own lives. Looking up at the screen you watch a Williams car hit the wall on the right before sliding across the track and grinding its way to a stop on the left barrier. You gasp as you jump up, the rest of the garage wincing in sympathy as the car finally stops. You quickly turn to a mechanic nearby. “Who was that?”, you ask a little panicked as you watch the red flag fly and a driver in a Williams race suit climb out of the cockpit. “Albon, I think”, the mechanic replies helpfully as you try and suppress a relieved sigh. You still feel sorry for Alex but simultaneously thanking your lucky stars that Logan was not the one in an accident this time.

When Logan first got signed by Williams you both were ecstatic, you had met years ago when your parents had taken you on a vacation to Florida where you met Logan and you’ve kept in touch ever since. You had already been working for Aston Martin when Logan started in F1 and the fact that you could spend a lot more time together now served as further motivation to both of you to give it your best. You quickly shoot him a text, knowing he won’t be responding until later, before sending your boss a quick update and making sure the crash had not affected your team.

You honestly had forgotten you texted Logan in the first place as you watch the cars head out for the second practice session, Alex staying back in the pits, watching his teammate drive. You smile as you send Logan some memes you had found on twitter, knowing he would have a laugh once he got back to his room after the strenuous practice sessions of the day. Aston Martin, for once, had no major issues you had attend to and you could lean back and relax, as much as one in a Formula 1 garage can relax, in your seat while harassing the Aston Martin Instagram Admin with Memes you think they should be posting asap.

As the second practice session ends you help the team pack up and prepare for the next day as the drivers attend to their media duties and you stretch in relief as the first day of the Australian Grand Prix comes to an end.  After having everything sorted you get out your work phone and sign off for the day before taking out your personal phone and responding to some texts before checking your chat with Logan, seeing that he had read your messages but not responded. ‘You ok?’, you send him before shrugging off any worry you might have. Surely, he was just busy, after all, he was the only Williams driver that would be starting on Sunday. You really wouldn’t want to be in his shoes, the weight of the entire team and all the fans’ expectations resting on your shoulders. You might have a lot of responsibility but at least you were free of the expectations fans place on the drivers, mechanics and team principals.

You quickly slip into the shower of your private hotel room, a perk you were eternally grateful for, and put on some pajamas before order room service. You had earned it after all and looking after your figure was thankfully not a concern you had. ‘Ignoring your bestie? That’s not how I know you Loggie!’ you text Logan as you open the door for the food you had ordered and sit down before digging into the pepperoni pizza you had been craving for a week.

You startle as you hear a knock from your hotel room door. You shoot a quick glance at your phone, 11pm. You quietly approach the door and look through the peephole cautiously. Who would disturb you that late on a race weekend? Looking through the hole you see Logan at the door, his face unusually pale and his expression unnervingly neutral. Quickly you reach for the doorhandle, pulling the door open. “Logie? What got you a-knocking that late?”, you ask jokingly but the lighthearted smile on your face quickly fades as he stands on the swell of your door like a man lost, his eyes suspiciously watery. “Oh dear”, you mumble as you quickly pull him into your room and heard him towards your bed, letting him sit down before standing before him and looking at him with a stern expression. “What’s wrong?”, you ask, concern written all over your face.

He sighs, falling back onto the bed. “They’re taking my car.”, his voice sounds wobbly as he explains. “Who is taking your car?”, you ask, your voice confused.

“James. He said Alex has a higher chance of scoring and I get it, but I tried so hard, you know? They said they trusted me, and I was ready to proof how much I have improved and now I can’t drive at all. I didn’t crash the car! It’s not my fault! I didn’t do anything…”, he rambles, his voice flowing between sadness, anger and betrayal before ending in defeat. You look at him, he still has his upper body lying on your bed, his feet dangling off the side as he continues explaining what had happened. Quietly you sit down next to him on the bed and gently stroke through his hair as you let him talk out his frustrations. “y/n? What do I do now?”, Logan asks as he looks up at you, his eyes still wet but trying his hardest to not shed a tear.

“I will put the fear of God into that good-for-nothing son of a bitch.”, you explain very matter of factly. “I’m gonna walk down to the Williams hospitality and I’m gonna scream at your team principal!”, you declare with a huff as you get off of your bed and towards where you kicked off your shoes when you came back from the paddock earlier that night.

“Y/N, do NOT do that.”, Logan warns as he gets up and grabs your hand. “That is just going to make it worse.” “Okay but it’s also gonna make me feel a lot better ‘cause who does he think he is? Taking your car and giving it away. I’m gonna make him regret this entire week” you say angrily as you look up at him with determination and the wrath of someone who’s best friend was just wronged in your eyes.

“Please don’t”, Logan asks with sad eyes, gripping your hand even tighter. “Please just stay with me tonight, I feel sick. I just want to cry.”, he admits to you as you feel your resolve break. “But- “, you trail off as you watch him stand before you, his hand still tightly gripping yours. You sigh in defeat before squeezing his hand. “Right but only ‘cause you asked me to, if it was up to me…”, you stop, leaving the threat hang in the air of your hotel room as you head towards the small desk. “Pizza”, you declare as you shove the leftovers of your pizza into Logans hands. “My TV has Netflix, what do you want to watch?”, you ask as you throw yourself into the hotel room bed and turn on the flatscreen TV hanging opposite it.

Logan lets out a surprised laugh and sits down next to you, the pizza carton still tightly in his hands as he gets out a slice and lets you choose whatever show you find on the homepage. The evening continues in relative silence as Logan finishes the pizza and you sit in the bed, leaning onto each other. “I’m still sending him negative vibes, like spiritually”, you grumble as he giggles before slipping off to sleep for the night.

#logan sargeant #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #x reader #logan sargeant x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #first fic in a long time #ls2 x reader #ls2

[shankschewtoy]

Hello there 👋. If it's ok with you, may I request for ASL brothers + katakuri ? How would they react upon witnessing their fem s/o who just fall from a flight of stairs just casually get up, not saying anything, dust herself off and walk away as if she didn't just fall from a really high place and injuring her head ? Blood obviously dripping down from her forehead like she just got smashed to the head with a bear bottle but her expression stays nonchalant. Idk why when this scene first play in my head I find it funny 💀 you can ignore this if you want to btw ☺️. No pressure 👌

a/n - pls this idea is so funny 😭 I love it- tysm for this anon!!

Warnings ⚠️ - crack, g/n reader, modern au, Katakuri needs therapy

- The way he literally just stood there, a handful of potato chips in his mouth, mismatching socks, and only having his boxers on as you fell down the stairs

- he stopped chewing, watching you immediately get up as if nothing happened, blood clearly starting to drip down your nose and forehead from impact

- He kept looking back and forth at you who was now watching tv on the couch as if you didn’t just fall down a long flight of WOODEN stairs…?

- He giggled, running up the stairs and fucking jumping off them like a dumbass

- he took your actions as a “skills of falling down the stairs” challenge which he gladly took

- “WHEEEEEE- OOF-“

- ran straight into the wall, putting a dent, making the lamp above him fall on top of him

- “I’m- fine-! Shishi~” *dies*

- he tried to be like you, didn’t work out very well

- lots of ice packs and kisses followed afterwards tho 💜💜

- also yes he’s still only in his underwear and mismatching socks

- Bold of you to assume you could even fall down the stairs without him being right there to catch you before you fall 🙃

- ok let’s just say he wasn’t payin attention

- You took one wrong step down the stairs, skipping a step as you slid down, flipping forward and slamming your face into the ground rather- harshly

- You could hear boots thudding from the hall, scrambling feet, and in the blink of an eye, Katakuri slid on the wooden floors to find you collapsed on the ground in front of the stairs

- *panic attack starts*

- Literally FREAKING OUT

- You just stood up, wiping your bloody nose and going to the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal for breakfast

- He stood there, blinking however many times before he walked over to you silently

- “…are you ok?”

- you had the absolute audacity to look at him with the most confused expression as if nothing happened at all

- “What do you mean? Yeah I’m fine why?”

- watch him walk out that door right now

- He put those guard rails on the stairs, and non-slip pads on the wooden steps 😭

- he’s doing everything in his power to make sure you don’t fall down again 🥺

- I just know this man has an issue with stairs, going up and going down them

- You were wearing socks! It was pretty much setting up for your demise against the stairway

- You slipped, sliding down on your ass before flipping forward, skidding to a stop on your face, your legs comically flying above your head before you stopped

- Ace was standing there in disbelief with a mouthful of cereal, the spoon still in his mouth

- Everything was silent as you got up, brushing your clothes off before grabbing a cup of water as if blood wasn’t clearly dripping down your face

- Ace rushed over to you, dropping the whole bowl of cereal before grabbing your head with his hands worriedly

- “Are you ok?! Y/n YOU JUST FELL DOWN THE STAIRS!”

- “Do I have to get Marco? Probably- right?! Oh shit.”

- his hands lit on fire from worry, lighting your- hair on fire…

- Started screaming, and you were absolutely clueless as to what was happening

- He grabbed the milk carton and started dunking your head in it, slapping the fire on your head before it could burn any of your hair.

- it ended with ace cleaning up at least a gallon of milk, and a trip to Marco’s 👍

- he’d just be minding his own business, doing some reading as he sipped his cup of tea peacefully

- That was interrupted by you flying down the stairs, hitting your head against the table leg underneath him with a thud

- he swore you’d almost broken the leg in half 💀

- You got up, continuing to hum a tune as you grabbed some breakfast, sitting right next to him as you started scrolling on your phone, blood dripping down your face

- He was scared? Of you? No- for your safety and well-being? How tf did you fall down a whole ass flight of stairs and not start wincing in pain? Was it true? Were you actually a demon?

- you looked over at him to see him staring at you with the most concerned look you had ever seen

- “Morning Sabo!”

- You kissed his cheek, wiping the blood off your bruised face with a paper towel before going back to your phone nonchalantly

- Was he hallucinating? No- you fell down the stairs just now! He wasn’t dreaming or anything!

- He put his hand on your shoulder and took a deep breath, “Y/n… I think we need to see a doctor.”

- man got so serious about it help 💀

- started looking up, “fell down stairs, did not react disease?”

- “high pain tolerance?”

- “can’t feel pain disease”

- “SHOULD I CALL AN EXORCIST?”

- “exorcistdemon.org”

a/n - pls sabo would think you’re possessed 💀

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece hcs #anime hcs #straw hat luffy #luffy headcanons #luffy one piece #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #monkey d. luffy #katakuri x you #katakuri one piece #katakuri x reader #one piece katakuri #charlotte katakuri #sabo the revolutionary #sabo x reader #sabo x y/n #sabo one piece #sabo headcanons #ace x fem reader #ace x reader #ace one piece #portgas d ace #fire fist ace #ace x y/n

[whatawonderfulexistence--blog]

Slow (Phantom x GN! Reader FLUFF)

WARNINGS: Suggestive ending, all fluff, Phantom is having his first crush since being summoned.

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

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

You hummed to yourself as you carefully picked the ripe berries from one of Primo's pristine strawberry plants. You waved as you saw a familiar face round the corner. "Swiss, hey!" The multi ghouls wrapped you in a side hug as he approaches you.

"(Y/N), good to see you." He flashes you a sharp smile. "Would you like some help in the garden today?" You nodded with a soft laugh.

"You know help harvesting is always appreciated." He ushers his companion forward. You recognized him as one of the new Ghouls that had just been summoned. You hadn't really gotten the chance to talk to him yet, you had only exchanged a few small waves as you passed by him in the halls, you also would always give him a warm smile in hopes he would eventually warm up to you. "Hi Phantom." You see a small grin pass over his lips as he realizes you knew his name.

"We're trying to get him more comfortable with interacting with the Siblings. I was hoping he could help you out here." Phantom shifted awkwardly in his heels, you were unable to meet his gaze.

"Of course he can, I'll bring him back down to the Ghoul's Den after we're done out here." Swiss dismissed himself with a nod and a wave, briefly stopping to whisper something in Phantom's ear before clapping him on the shoulder and walking off. "Come on, let's go get you a basket." You motioned for him to follow you. You slowed your pace to allow yourself the chance to slip beside him. "How have you been adjusting so far? I'm sure this is a pretty big change for you." His eyes darted to look at you, he seemed a bit shocked that you were able to talk to him so casually.

"It's definitely a bit of a shock." He chuckles, you try your best to hide your excited expression over his response. "I honestly feel like most of the Siblings are scared of me."

"A lot of them have never been exposed to a freshly summoned Ghoul before. I'm sure they're just a little hesitant because they're not sure how to interact with you. I, however, think you seem very sweet Phantom." You glance over at him with a smile. He just looks down at the ground, folding his hands neatly behind his back. You got him set up with his own basket of gardening tools, he listened very intently to your instructions about how to harvest the produce properly without harming the plant. He watched you closely, lavender eyes scanning over your delicate fingers as you worked. The two of you moved from plant to plant, working slowly as you took time to answer whatever questions he had for you. After a while he actually seemed to be having fun, he slowly became more relaxed in your presence. He jumped down from a low rock wall out of the flower bed, almost instinctively offering you his hand. He looked back at you, almost recoiling at his own gesture. You reached out without a moment of hesitation, your fingers gliding over his palm. He breathes out a chuckle as he notices how his hand could completely engulf yours.

"You're so small." His eyes widen slightly as he suddenly drops your hand, apologizing profusely, causing you to laugh.

"Phantom, it's okay." You motioned to his hand. "May I?" He nodded slowly, you gently grabbed his palm in both your hands, your thumbs running soothingly over his skin. You pressed your hands together, allowing him a moment to look at the size difference between the two. "Your hands are really warm, it's nice." You smile at him.

"I-um," he trails off, swallowing thickly. "Would it be alright if I saw you again?" He inches forward slightly, a nervous glint in his eyes. You nod, a smile quickly spreading across your features.

"I'd like that." Phantom hesitantly pulled his hand away from yours, allowing his touch to linger in your until the very last moment. The two of you brought your fresh produce to the kitchen before you walked with him down to the Ghoul's Den.

"I hope he didn't give you too much trouble." Swiss says with a laugh.

"He wasn't any trouble at all, I had a really nice time with you today Phantom." He nods bashfully.

"Hopefully I'll be able to see you soon." He smiles softly at you, trying to hide his fangs.

"I'm always in the library in the evenings if you'd like to come keep me company." You bite your lip to try and hide your excited smile. "I'll see you later Phantom, bye Swiss." You dismiss yourself with a wave, practically skipping back to your dorm for the night. The next night you found yourself waiting anxiously as you wondered whether or not Phantom would actually show up. You sat before a roaring fire, curled up on one of the couches in the room as you skimmed through the book you had chosen, barely able to focus on the words on the page. You sat up a bit straighter as you heard the heavy door open on the opposite side of the room. Phantom slinks out of the shadows, offering you a small wave as he steps into the soft orange glow that surrounds you.

"Would it be alright if I joined you?" You nodded, scooting over to offer him a space to sit. He was rigid as he sat down, sitting up straight as he nodded at you. "You look really pretty tonight." You can't help but blush at his statement.

"Thank you." Phantom seemed even more flustered than you felt. "I'm really happy you came." You see him swallow thickly, his gaze landing on your lips.

"I am too." He admits with a bashful chuckle. "Can I admit something?" You nod, he cautiously reaches out and takes your hands in his. "I'm still learning how to interact with humans, but I've found myself feeling very attracted to you." You felt your cheeks heat up, your eyes widened slightly at his confession. You found yourself inching closer to him, his warm breath bouncing off your lips. "Can I?" He asks softly, you could feel his lips ghost over yours he was so close. You gave his hands a gentle squeeze.

"We'll take it nice and slow, okay?" He nods in response, pausing and waiting for you to take the lead. You gently run your fingers over the exposed skin of his cheek under his mask. His eyes slid shut as your lips finally found his. His grip on your hand tightens slightly as he presses himself into you. You slowly slid your hand around to the back of his neck, you hum softly as the feeling of his soft hair brushing over your fingers. Your body jolts slightly and drops your hands to let his fingers run over your waist. He tenderly squeezes at your flesh as you pull him in as close as you could manage. You parted with soft gasps, your gaze meeting one another's as soon as your eyes opened. "You're a really good kisser." You giggle causing him to get flustered.

"I'd like to do that again if that's alright." You nod, leaning into him once more. This time Phantom's lips met yours with a greater ferocity, hands grabbing hungrily at your hips while still making sure he didn't hurt you accidentally. His lips left yours, trailing across your jaw and down your neck. He nuzzles his face against your skin, your breath shudders as you try to steady your breathing. He takes your hand, slowly bringing it up to the buckle on his mask, silently asking you to remove it. Your fingers shook as you worked at the strap, eventually sliding it out of the buckle so you were able to fully remove it. His raven hair tumbled into his face, you couldn't resist reaching out to run your fingers through the soft strands. He takes a moment to study your expression, he was met with your soft gaze that held nothing short of pure adoration. "You're… you're not scared of me?"

"No," he carefully pulled you into his lap, his head lulled into your touch as you continued to play with his hair. "I think you're very handsome." His warm lips pressed against your pulse, sending a shiver down your spine.

"(Y/N)?" You hum in response to your name. You can't help but blush as Phantom's hands slide over the curve of your ass. "How slow would you like to take things?"

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

Tag List: @ramblingoak @kissingghouls @spookyghostjelly @belnovacaine @iamsarahsaysso @mustluvecho @jennmakesitweird @angellayercake

#phantom ghoul #phantom ghost #phantom x reader #phantom ghoul x reader #phantom ghost x reader #phantom ghoul fluff #phantom ghost fluff #phantom x reader fluff #phantom ghoul fan fiction #phantom ghost fan fiction #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost bc #ghost fanfiction #fan fiction #ghost band fan fic #ghost band fanfiction #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #ghost fan fiction #ghost fanfic #ghost fic #the band ghost bc #ghost the band #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost fan fiction #phantom nameless ghoul #nameless ghoul x reader

[readbycrow]

What's the first step on your next adventure?

3-10-2024 - Pick A Card

The images are in order of the cards below. The images just help pick which card is your answer. Pick an image, find the card, receive your answer. Hope to give some senses of reassurance and direction. Life really is just a series of adventures, some more fun than others.

Citrus - In a strange twist of fate, your next step is to wait. It's so easy to jump on a bandwagon or give into FOMO. It's truly a test of patience to just let the world go by for a minute. You might be someone who dives head first into the deep end on everything, and, while sometimes that can serve you well, that's not the course of action you need here. The devil is in the details with your life right now. You need to sort out some of the finer points and come up with a solid plan on how to proceed forward. This will be frustrating, and you might try to push forward before you're ready. There will be push back if you do. This is a time to take your time.

Cherries - The next adventure awaits, you just have to figure out which one it is. There's plenty of opportunities afoot in your life, and you find yourself in a position to take one. It's a matter of deciding what. The choice is truly yours, but some outside motivators may pull you one way or the other. There are also more things available if you're willing to put in time and effort into learning something new. A few basics in a new skill or a whole deep dive might lead you right where you're being called. The world is truly your oyster right now, and there's very little to hold you back from making your dreams a reality.

Berries - Your first step to your next big adventure is to let go of some things. You're worried, scared, and feeling hopeless. Maybe it's getting hard to sleep at night. That's okay. These things happen to a lot of people. Whether a chemical imbalance, trauma, or long-term stress has put you here, you deserve care and recognition of your problems. The worst is over, and what's left is what's inside of you. Be kind to yourself while you figure this out. There's no rushing, and there's plenty of people willing to help you if you reach out. This will pass or become manageable. You will be back on track soon.

Hello! Welcome to the bottom of the post. This crow just wants to let you know that it will pull a free card for you if you send an ask to its blog! It does trades of unwanted things for a card. If you don’t specify a question, the card will be about what you’ve given up. Feel free to check the pinned post for more information. The crow also does more professional readings on ko-fi! Apologies for the absence, the Crow changed nests! It and it's companions are now settling into a new space, and it is a lovely one!

#tarotblr #witchblr #pick a pile #pick a card #tarot readings #tarot reading #free tarot reading #caws #readings

[linos-luna]

Let me in 🔪

Yandere!Jeongin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: some violence, Yandere, obsessive behavior, cursing, slapping, forced kissing, manipulative behavior, crying

——————————————————————

“Noona! Let me in!!”

Your psychotic boyfriend was yelling while pounding on the door. He was pissed and you were left crying on the other side of the locked door.

“You can’t stay in there forever!” He yelled while banging on the door even harder.

“Jeongin stop!” You cried. “You’re scaring me!”

“C’mon noona… I didn’t mean to scare you!” He sighed. “Please!”

You were silent as he stopped hitting the door. In fact it sounded like he was starting to sob. You could tell he was really close to the door, his face may even be on the door itself.

“Noona! Please let me in!” He sobbed. “I can’t be without you!”

“Jeongin—…”

“I just want to be your baby boy!” He continued. “I love you, noona!”

Here he was, tugging at your heartstrings again. Jeongin always knows how to get you.

“Please! Pleeeeeeease! Pleeeease noona!”

You sighed while wiping your tears as he jiggled the door knob.

“Noona!!” He suddenly snapped, giving a hard slam to the door. His voice boomed with anger and hurt. He hit the door again; it sounded like he may have cracked it. “Let me in! NOW!”

You nearly jumped at the sudden switch and screamed when seeing his fist go through the door.

“Jeongin! The door!”

“And who’s fault is that?!” He laughed while punching a bigger hole in the door to reach for the doorknob.

He didn’t look like he had tears at any point. Was he even crying??

Jeongin unlocked the door and let himself in as you backed up into your clothes dresser.

“J-Jeongin! Stop!”

“Noona…” Your boyfriend had an unsettling smile as he came towards you. “Don’t be scared of me.”

Jeongin grabbed you by the wrists and pulled you close. He pulled your hair back to get access to your lips and forcefully kissed you as you tried pulling away.

“Noona stop!” He said while grabbing your jaw.

You stopped moving and he smiled in satisfaction. He sat you on the bed and kneeled in front of you.

“I’m your baby boy, right noona?!” He asked almost desperately. “Right noona?!!”

Your lips were quivering and he suddenly yanked your arms forward a little.

“Don’t ignore me!!” He snapped.

You whimpered in pain, making Jeongin soften up.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry noona!” He said while getting on top of you and rubbing your cheeks. “Sorry! Sorry!”

Jeongin kissed your cheeks, tasting the salty tears. “I didnt mean to hurt you!”

You could barely move as his whole body mass was on you.

“Jeongin-….”

“Don’t you love me?!” He snapped. “I’m your baby boy right? Right?! I’m sorry!

“Y-yes…” you said quietly.

“Yes?!”

“Yes… you’re… my baby boy…”

“I knew you still loved me!” He said happily while kissing your lips frantically. “Thank you noona!”

You sighed as he laid his head on your chest. He loved the sound of your heartbeat and he gently rubbed your side.

“Don’t leave me, noona…” he muttered with his eyes closed. “I don’t wanna be alone…”

You rubbed his hair and back, starting to feel bad. Yeah he can be scary but he could also be very sweet and he’s had a lot going on.

He was just so cute. You just want to take care of him…

“Noona don’t leave…” Jeongin said quietly as some tears formed. “I love you…”

“I… I love you too baby…” you said while ruffling his hair. “You’re my baby…”

Jeongin whimpered and hugged your waist.

“Don’t cry…”

“I’m sorry, noona…”

“It’s okay…” you sighed. “You’re… you’re just my baby boy…”

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #fanfic #kpop smut #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids yandere #yandere stray kids #stray kids jeongin #yandere Jeongin #jeongin x reader #Jeongin x poc reader #stray kids x poc reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids yang jeongin #kpop yandere #yandere

[popkorrn]

types of physical affection.

genre. fluff

feat. akaashi, matsukawa, suna, sakusa, nishinoya x reader

akaashi may not be big on physical touch, but he always keeps a gentle and reassuring touch on you. whether that be a hand on the small of your back when you're walking through a crowded place, or giving your hand a small squeeze to get your attention. he loves to hold your hand, interlacing his fingers between yours while absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles onto the back of your hand. he would press light kisses against your knuckles or fingertips from time to time, and would completely melt if you do the same.

matsukawa always wraps his arm around your shoulders when you're walking side by side, and claims that he does it because you're a great armrest. but in all honestly, he likes to have you wrapped snugly in his arms because it puts him at ease. he will never admit that he's protective over you, but his body language says otherwise. when he's driving and he hits the brakes a bit too late, his arm immediately jumps in front of you to stop you from lurching forward. he also loves it when you loop your arm around his, effectively hugging his arm. bonus points if you're holding his hand while doing it.

suna loves it when you run your hand through his hair, or when you massage his sore muscles after training. he likes to surprise you with back hugs out of nowhere, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. sometimes he would lean majority of his weight onto you, chuckling when you struggle to balance under his tall frame. he is the type to get your attention by lifting your chin between his index finger and thumb, turning your head to face him. he is a sucker for back rubs when you're cuddling, and it is almost impossible to get him to let go of you when you're trapped in his embrace.

sakusa is more reserved with physical affection, especially in public settings. that being said, he absolutely adores it when you link pinkies with him, and his brain would short-circuit if you ever wrapped your hand around his fingers instead of his hand. when the two of you are alone, he likes to pull you into the warmth of his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head, listening intently while you talk to him about your day. he gets more touchy when he’s tired, opting to rest his forehead against your shoulder as you rub calming patterns on the nape of his neck.

nishinoya isn't afraid to smother you with affection. every time he sees you, he would run up to you with the brightest smile, calling out your name before enveloping you into the biggest bear hug. he doesn't care if other people are watching, he just wants his hugs and affection. he moves around a lot when cuddling, mostly because he's excitedly recounting a story, so your bed always ends up in a mess of blankets and intertwined limbs, but you don't mind it one bit. for some reason, he really likes to give you piggyback rides, and relishes in your bursts of laughter.

© popkorrn — reblogs and notes are much appreciated!

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #hq x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyu x reader #hq imagines #hq fluff #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa fluff #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #suna x reader #suna fluff #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya fluff

[french-unknown]

Hellooo, I was wondering if you would do zoro, sanji, and law react to seeing their future kids? Like the child go’s back in time somehow and they meet they’re daddy’s. Love your work and hope you have a lovely week!! (✨FLUFF✨)

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: zoro, sanji, law 𝐂/𝐖: ✨ fluff ✨ 𝐀/𝐍: Hellooo! I did my best so I hope you will like it! Have a lovely week too! (~^-^)~ 𝐖/𝐂: 600 +

| m a s t e r l i s t |

𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎

✧ He will first consider the child as a threat since, in the Straw Hat crew, a person of any age who appears on the boat when they are in the middle of nowhere is rarely a good thing.

✧ He will accept his affiliation with the child quite easily, no doubt that Luffy's carelessness has contaminated him, and their status as a child will mean that the crew will not be too suspicious of them.

✧ As soon as he will know that the child has never wielded real blade before, he will come into play.

✧ Whatever the kid's reason for not using a real sword, he doesn't care. He will simply lend him one of his own in order to have a training fight and assess his level. He will also show him two or three techniques along the way.

✧ However, he will be mortally embarrassed when Sanji, Nami or Robin come to tease him about his fatherhood.

✧ He would rather jump into the water himself than hear the child call Sanji and Nami as uncle andr aunt.

✧ Zoro will also give the child their first sips of alcohol. Obligatory ritual.

✧ He will not be particularly curious about the child's current life. He will stick to the principle that what has to happen will happen and that he doesn't really need to know. The kid looks happy so he won't look any further.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

✧ The system will definitely crash.

✧ He will not question the child's words even if they are not physically similar. The unknown child may appear one day in the middle of the kitchen while he is cooking, shouting "Daddy" while jumping into his arms and he will trust them anyway.

✧ He will not hesitate to shower them with affection

✧ He will ask them hundreds of questions about their life, their tastes and above all what their family life is like later. It will really be a sort of messy interrogation for the first hour.

✧ He will be extremely anxious about whether he is a good father.

✧ After the questions and answers, he will go around the ship to show his child to all the crew. He wll run around like "look, it's mine. It's my child!" It will only stop if the child starts to like other members (asking questions about Zoro's swords, playing with Luffy, laughing with Franky, etc.) for fear that they will prefer others to himself.

✧ He will spend the entire remainder of their time together cooking. He will be moved to tears to see that his child already has the basics.

✧ As soon as the child will leave in their time, Sanji will already be looking forward to seeing them again.

𝐋𝐀𝐖

✧ To say he will be suspicious of the child is an understatement.

✧ They may look identical, whether physically or psychologically, but they will still find themselves both sitting face-to-face on chairs with arms crossed and the same facial expressions, saying: "You're lying." and “I’m not lying.”

✧ It will take Law some rigorous questioning to know whether to believe them or not but he will simply leave the kid go because of their sarcastic responses.

✧ He will never truly believe it's his child but they are amusing him with their answers so he will stop bothering them.

✧ He will leave them in the hands of his crew members because he will not see why he should be involved with a random kid. He will bite his fingers when the members of said crew tell them lots of compromising information regarding Law.

✧ The child will use their information to blackmail the surgeon and stay with him.

✧ When the child leaves, Law will have a little pang in his heart of “that kid was funny”.

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @lys-ada @xomingyu @dozcan123 @kai-wifey

#one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #sanji #sanji x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader

[fueledbysano]

robyn darling~

i have an urgent need to tell you the details of my dream from last night about your beautiful writing :

in it i dreamt that i was sleeping and woke up in middle of the night and peeked at the site to see that you had wrote a izana pregnancy reader and i swear threw the phone in rejoice and excitement to read + flash forward to the a.m. when i jumped out of bed to go and read it again and found out that it was all in my own little mind...so if i may ask is any chance would you happen to have some ideas of what kind of expecting father he would be?

(sending over lots of love as always)

-🤍

first time dad!Izana

expecting your first child with Izana ♡

♱ final timeline Izana x f!reader

♱ reina, what a beautiful dream!!! and I'm in it?!? 🥹 what an honor to be included in your cute dream. let's make that a reality! I may have shed a tear or two while writing this! :')

♱ @enchantedforest-network

˗ˏˋ one of the projects that the "Tenjiku" nonprofit organization have is a foster home. Izana, being the co-owner, would feel a special connection to children. As a man who experienced a traumatic childhood, Izana would be extremely empathetic and understanding towards the children and their needs. He would strive to get to know every child and give them the care and support they deserve until they eventually find a new home.

˗ˏˋ It's only natural that Izana would have fears about becoming an actual father. he had a crappy dad. a crappy mom, and a crappy adoptive mom. he knows what it's like when someone messes up as a parent and he's scared to make a mistake he cannot take back.

˗ˏˋ Apart from his romantic love for you, his found family, and his love for the foster children, he had never experienced a parent's love and he's afraid he doesn't know how to give it to his child. He is worried that he will be too strict and that he will inadvertently hurt his child by acting on his own instincts.

˗ˏˋ However, everything else he's done in his life— trusting Kakucho, building Tenjiku, asking to marry you: he's sure. When Izana was growing up, he certainly never expected to become a father. But, after taking in all those children in the foster homes and caring for them, as well as marrying you, he wanted to get to experience everything. with you. Even though it was not something that he planned, he was now excited and very eager to become a father and to experience everything that goes with it.

˗ˏˋ Apart from the excitement and fear that comes with the news of becoming a father, Izana would feel a sense of responsibility. Especially due to his abandonment by his own parents, Izana would have a strong sense of responsibility to make sure that his child would never have to face anything like he had to. At the same time, he would also feel a desire to give his child the best life possible. As an already very dedicated and passionate person, the news of becoming a father would only strengthen his resolve.

˗ˏˋ It's clear that Izana is very dedicated and protective of you during your pregnancy. He wants to ensure that you are not put under any unnecessary stress while you are pregnant, and he hires more nannies to make sure that you don't have to do any work.

˗ˏˋ Izana would also spend a lot of time reading pregnancy books, medical journals, and forums to better understand the pregnancy.

˗ˏˋHe is definitely one of those parents who make a birth plan. He reads it everyday despite having done going through it the moment you two finished making it, to the point that he had the pages memorized. He wanted to be ready for any possible scenario and ensure the safety of his baby and wife.

˗ˏˋ He would also do his best to connect with your unborn baby by playing guitar for your belly and singing to the both of you.

˗ˏˋ He will leave the final decisions of the baby's clothes and items and the nursery decorations to you, but will do his best to renovate the room and make it look beautiful.

˗ˏˋThat way, he would honor your preferences while also making sure that the nursery is a comfortable and safe space while keeping you relaxed.

˗ˏˋ Naming the baby would be a huge decision and one that would take a lot of thought and consideration. Izana would want to choose a name that has special meaning for him and you. Perhaps the name would be influenced by your cultures or have some significance in your childhoods. Izana really thinks carefully about your child's future.

˗ˏˋ You always reassure him that you have full faith in his abilities as a father. Even though he has never had a parent himself, he has always taken pride in taking care of others, be it his found family or the foster children, and even your unborn child; you constantly remind him that he doesn't need to worry about his ability to give the love and support that he never received, because he already has everything he needs to be a excellent father, and that you would be there with him every step of the way.

˗ˏˋ and with that, he would be even more filled with anticipation now, with still the pang of nervousness, and he would be eager to see the child that he and you have created together.

˗ˏˋ The moment the baby is born would be a significant and emotional one for Izana. He would be filled with joy and pride at the arrival of your child, and he would feel an overwhelming sense of responsibility and admiration that he is now responsible for another human being.

˗ˏˋ Izana would be extremely devoted and present during the whole process, and he would be the first one to hold the child in his arms and welcome them into the world before he walks to you to share the beautiful moment, and feel your baby's touch.

˗ˏˋ He is completely enamored by your baby and he would want to keep you both safe and happy. Izana is filled with gratitude towards you for giving him this precious gift and for bearing the pain and hardship of pregnancy. "Mahal, you are so wonderful. Thank you for making me a daddy."

˗ˏˋ His heart is so full of love. he was so relieved, knowing that this kid is going to be the luckiest baby. they have two loving parents, the coolest uncles, and a bunch of big brothers and sisters in the foster home. It is the moment that Izana sees that his life is now filled with even more love, and that his life is richer and more complete than ever before.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #izana kurokawa #izana x reader #izana kurokawa x reader #izana imagines #tokyo revengers imagines #izana x reader fluff

[wintaerbaer]

things we don't say: part 5.5 (interlude) (kth) (m)

banner credit: @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slooooow burn, angst, fluff

word count: 2.1k

chapter warnings: maya and jk are fighting again :( , and also SMUT in the form of: lots of kissing, light/brief breastplay, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), missionary, creampie, a throwback to part 2, they’re so vanilla but it suits them

a/n: a huge thank you to @btsborahaee for beta-ing on extremely short notice! you’re the best! and an extra thank you, too, to everyone who has shown this series love. it truly means the world <3

listening rec: pieces by andrew belle

PREVIOUS // SERIES MASTERLIST

Read on ao3

The night is beginning to wind down, thick summer air turning cool and the noise from inside the venue softening with every passing moment. It’s peaceful—the kind of pleasant exhaustion that marks the end of a big day. Jungkook stretches out at the patio table, resting his hands behind his head. As much as he enjoys a party—loves the pounding of music and the press of bodies—he has to admit that this is pretty nice too, the ease that comes with good company and a more intimate setting.

It also helps that Maya and Mingyu have rejoined the group, settling his imagination, which had been running rampant while they were gone.

“Tae and Y/N haven’t come back this way, have they?” Jimin wonders, peering around as if he thinks that saying your names will cause you to appear.

“I haven’t seen them since dinner,” Maya says.

Joshua shifts in his seat, tilting his head out of curiosity. “What’s their deal anyway?”

It’s like a collective sigh passes through half the table. A heavy breath that’s half amusement, half exasperation. “You noticed?” Jimin asks with a smirk.

Wonwoo coughs out a laugh—a loud bark that draws all eyes to him.

He clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“He’s in love with her,” Maya says, ever-direct. “Has been for as long as I’ve known them. Probably longer. But he’s too afraid to make a move.”

Mingyu sighs in understanding at her side. “Ahh, been there.”

“You have?”

He turns his head and regards her warily, like he didn’t quite mean to say that and he’s just remembered that he’s in the presence of a relative stranger. “Uh, yeah. With one of my friends in high school.”

“What happened?”

He hesitates, picking through his words carefully. “I spent freshman year of college gathering up the courage to tell her how I felt once we were both home for summer break.” A shrug flows down his back. “She rejected me.”

“Aw, Mingyu, I’m sorry,” Maya coos, and the enamored look on her face makes Jungkook nauseous.

“It’s fine. I moved on,” Mingyu says (A shame, Jungkook thinks). “But I can understand your friend’s predicament. Maybe it will work out for him though.”

A rush of boldness floods Jungkook’s veins, and he leans forward, looking deliberately at Maya. “It could definitely work out for him,” he insists, “because Y/N has been hurt in the past, and Tae understands that. He wants her to know that things could be different, but she just needs to let him in. That’s the problem.”

Maya’s eyes flash, clearly catching the double entendre of what he’s saying. “The problem,” she spits, “is that people have a pattern. And Tae’s pattern is that he’s far too scared to take a risk. Abandonment issues run deep, but some people don’t understand and respect that.”

“I und—“

“Tae has his reasons,” Jimin jumps in, defending his friend. “He just needs time.”

Maya snorts, and Jungkook can tell he’s hit a nerve as she continues her rant, the rest of the group quietly looking on in a mix of unease or confusion. “Time? Give me a break. He’s had almost twenty years worth of time.” She crosses her arms as she rolls her eyes to the heavens, scoffing a laugh of defeat. “Honestly? If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that people don’t change. People who sleep around will continue to sleep around.” She pierces Jungkook with a look he feels in the marrow of his bones. “And guys like Tae will always have a reason to be afraid.”

Her head shakes, and Jungkook thinks she might be holding back tears.

“At this rate, we’ll all be dead before he makes a move.”

Taehyung’s mouth is relentless.

From the moment you lean forward, his lips chase yours—desperately seeking—and barely even give you the time and space to breathe. Like he no longer sees use for oxygen.

If someone had asked you a week ago what you thought kissing Taehyung would be like, you would've said careful and calculated, just like he usually is during the day-to-day. But instead, you're getting all fire and a hunger you didn't know he was capable of—urgency in the rough pace of his mouth and the frantic ministrations of his hands digging into the nape of your neck, angling you towards him.

For what it's worth, you meet him beat for beat, nipping at his lower lip, sliding your tongue against his, and tangling your fingers into the thick mane of his hair. A groan emanates from someone's throat—you're not even sure whose—and suddenly, he's gripping you around the waist to drag you across his lap with a growl until you're straddling his hips, crowding him against the headboard as he clutches you to him tightly.

You press closer, closer, closer, crushing your lips together for a bruising kiss and savoring the feel of his arms banded across your back, and the only thing you can think is that you can’t believe you didn’t do this sooner. He’s heaven incarnate, the taste of him ambrosia and nectar, and you can’t get enough.

It’s not enough.

You finally pull away for air, and his lips, still seeking skin, trace a path across your jawline and down the column of your neck as your fingers find their way to the buttons on his shirt. You’re frenzied, fumbling as you undo them one-by-one and let out a gasp of relief as the fabric falls open and allows you access to the warm skin underneath. You greedily run your hands over his chest and stomach, desperate for more, more, more, and he responds in kind, slipping his own palms under the cotton of your pajamas as he continues to nibble at your neck and groaning when he finds you bra-less.

Warm palms cup your breasts, thumbs brushing lightly over perked nipples, and you move to push his shirt down his shoulders, immediately leaning in to bite and suck at the protrusion of his collarbone.

His head falls back against the headboard, and for the first time since you kissed him, he rasps out, “Y/N, my God.”

It sets your blood on fire, the guttural, fucked-out sound of his voice. But you miss the feel of his lips. “Don’t stop,” you murmur, stripping yourself of your own top and diving forward to kiss him again.

He moans once more, the vibrations dancing along your tongue, and the thought repeats that you should’ve been kissing this man every damn day. Should’ve been embracing him at every chance like your life depended on it.

From here on out, you think it just might.

You trail your hands down his torso, and he bucks his hips underneath you, drawing your attention to the hardness pressed against your pelvis.

“Tae,” you gasp, breaking away, and he takes the opportunity to arch his back and pull a nipple into his mouth. “Taehyung.”

But he’s not listening, purely focused on the mounds of your breasts, and so you take it upon yourself to torque your body, flipping the two of you until you’re on your back, and his weight is digging you into the mattress.

The change in position causes a temporary slow in movement, affording you new skin to explore as you roam the expanse of his back, Taehyung’s fingers reverently tracing the lines of your ribcage. It’s not long, however, before your motions ramp back up as you work to shimmy off your pants and clumsily free him of his own.

Finally bare to him, you slow down for real this time as his own touches become tentative, the warm air of the hotel room on his skin seeming to sober him up a fraction. He pauses with a hand on your hip, his other arm braced at the side of your head, not seeming to know what to do next.

Bold and eager—yet sure of your next move—you wrap your fingers around the smooth length of him, relishing the sharp intake of breath you feel at your ear.

“Need you,” you whisper. “Need you, Tae.”

He hesitates only a second longer before his fingers are dipping down between your legs, the two of you sighing in sync at the feeling. You line him up, raising your head to brush a gentle kiss to his mouth, trying to transmit confidence as you fold your legs around his waist.

A stoppage in time as he bumps his nose against yours. Flutters soft breath across your cheeks.

And then he pushes in.

Your lungs cease to function, every cell in your body focused on that single point of connection. You're whole. Full. Complete. Amazed at the ease with which you fit together—two puzzle pieces finding their match. And Taehyung is certainly not unaffected himself as he pulls back to look at you, emotion swimming in his gaze.

“Y/N,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours, his lips still ghosting your skin. And it could be a trick of the light, a haze brought on by the hormones currently coursing through your body, but his eyes look wet. “My angel.”

He kisses you then, slow and deep, taking his time as you both adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. You've never felt this comfortable with anyone before, never trusted someone so fully to see you at your most intimate and vulnerable. And he may have called you an angel, but with him above you like this—hovering, ethereal, and burning against you—you think it might actually be him who's heaven-sent. Your beautiful, beautiful man.

His hand charts a course up your body, guiding your arm upwards until it's resting by your head and he can lace your fingers together with a sigh. One more press of his mouth to yours, a gentle nip at your ear, and then he pulls his hips back—only to gradually ease back in centimeter by centimeter.

The process repeats, the pace slow but not lazy, deliberate intent behind every controlled thrust of his hips. It drives you crazy—the unhurried drag of him, the way he's allowing both of you to savor every nerve and inch of flesh until nothing is taken for granted. Your free hand maps his back, legs wrapping around him even more tightly, and he hitches your thigh to his waist so he can push deeper.

Stars circle through your vision, every sense overwhelmed by him: the press of his hips, the scattered kisses across your neck, the symphony of your mewls and his moans.

It's perfect—he's perfect—and before you even realize it, you're riding the edge of your high, entire body tensing in anticipation.

He notices, dropping his hand low again to rub at your clit and turning the stars you're seeing into constellations.

“Let go. I've got you, baby,” he murmurs. “I've got you.”

It's the low timbre of his voice that ultimately does it, and you fall apart, trembling so forcefully that he releases your hand to wrap his arms around your torso, locking the two of you together. He rides it out with you until he tips over the edge himself, spilling inside with a rumble in his chest like thunder.

One, two, three breaths in.

And it’s over.

Everything stills, the two of you a heaping pile of sweaty skin and heaving chests. And while your head is mostly empty, wiped clean by the experience you just shared with him—perhaps, now, the most important thing you've ever shared with him—a single fact of your new reality persists.

You want him. You need him.

You love him.

He pulls out with a groan and rolls off you, tugging you into his side. You know you should head to the bathroom, should clean up, but the emotional and physical exhaustion and the lure of his skin has you cuddling at his chest.

As your eyelids droop, the promise of sleep looming, he mumbles something, the words blending together in a tangle. You lift your head, heart jolting at the sight of his blissed out face.

“What?”

But he's already fallen asleep, tiny puffs of air slipping through his lips.

You think about nudging him back awake, think about asking him what he just said, where this leaves you, what you’re feeling yourself. But you decide against it, the expression on his face too peaceful to disturb.

It’s been seventeen years leading to this moment, right?

What’s one more day?

a/n: they finally got there :) but there's still a lot of story left! pls consider liking, reblogging, leaving a comment, or sending an ask in the meantime!

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #taehyung imagines #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #taehyung smut #bts smut