#[ when they see how you shine and they raise you up but you've only ever been a symbol to them

[marinehero]

when th freaking uquiz real

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

HEAD OVER HEELS

drew starkey x fem!reader

(mood board does NOT depict readers appearance !!)

SUMMARY: in which drew starkey is head over heels in love with his girlfriend, y/n.

based on this ask !! i really hope you like this anon, you didn’t request a specific plot so i went with this :)

WARNINGS: pure fluff, obsessed!drew but in a cutie patootie way !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)

A/N: i promise guys i will sort out making a master list tonight !! for now, click on my personalised tags like #bettys asks !!

WORD COUNT: 1k

THIRD PERSON +

Drew couldn't stop talking about her. His girlfriend, Y/N, that is.

His castmates on the Outer Banks set had long since grown used to it, though they still teased him mercilessly. It wasn't unusual for him to pull out his phone between takes and scroll through pictures of her, showing anyone who would listen. Even Chase joked once, "You know, Drew, we've all met her. You don't have to keep proving she exists."

But Drew didn't care. He loved talking about her. Loved the way her smile lit up his entire day, the way her laughter felt like sunshine breaking through clouds. Y/N was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he wasn't shy about letting everyone know it.

"She's visiting today," Drew announced, a giddy grin spreading across his face as he leaned against the craft services table.

Madelyn raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement. "You've only mentioned that about a hundred times this week."

"Yeah, and what's your point?" Drew shot back, unbothered. He grabbed a bottle of water and opened it, taking a sip before adding, "I just can't wait for you guys to see her again. She's incredible."

Madelyn exchanged a knowing look with Rudy, who was attempting (and failing) to suppress a laugh.

When Y/N finally arrived on set that afternoon, Drew spotted her instantly. She stepped out of the car, her hair slightly tousled from the coastal breeze, and his entire world seemed to pause. She was wearing his favorite sundress—the one he'd told her once made her look like a walking daydream—and he couldn't stop the wide, lovesick smile that overtook his face.

"Y/N!" Drew called out, practically sprinting toward her.

Before she could respond, he had her wrapped in his arms, lifting her off the ground as she let out a surprised laugh.

"Joseph Andrew Starkey! Put me down!" she exclaimed, though she was grinning just as much as he was.

"Not a chance," he replied, spinning her around once before finally setting her back on her feet. "God, I missed you."

"You saw me three days ago," she teased, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"And that's three days too long," he said without missing a beat, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

It didn't take long for the rest of the cast to spot her. Chase and Rudy came over to say hi, both of them giving her warm hugs and cracking jokes about how Drew had been "insufferable" without her.

"You're a saint for putting up with him," Rudy quipped, earning a playful shove from Drew.

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly as Drew laced their fingers together. "He's not so bad," she said, glancing up at Drew with a soft smile.

"Not so bad?" Drew repeated, feigning offense. "I'll have you know I'm the perfect boyfriend."

"And humble, too," she teased, nudging him lightly.

The group chatted for a while before Drew pulled her away, eager to have her to himself. He brought her to his trailer, where he'd set up a small surprise for her: a bouquet of her favorite flowers and a handwritten note resting on the table.

"Drew," she said softly, her eyes shining as she turned to look at him. "You didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to," he said, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her waist. "You deserve it. You deserve everything."

She leaned into him, resting her head against his chest as she took a deep breath. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

"Not possible," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

For the rest of the day, Drew was glued to her side. He introduced her to everyone on set—again—even though most of them already knew her from her previous visits. But it didn't matter to Drew. He wanted to show her off, to let the world see just how amazing she was.

During breaks in filming, he would find her wherever she was sitting and drape himself over her like an oversized golden retriever. "You comfortable?" he'd ask, despite the fact that he was the one taking up all the space.

"Very," she'd reply, laughing as she adjusted to make room for him.

When it came time for Drew to shoot his scenes, Y/N watched from the sidelines, her eyes filled with pride. He'd glance over at her between takes, flashing her a grin or a wink, and her heart would flutter every time.

At one point, Madelyn leaned over to Y/N and whispered, "He's like this all the time, you know. Completely obsessed with you."

Y/N's cheeks turned pink, but she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. "I'm not complaining," she said softly, her gaze never leaving Drew.

By the time the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the set, Drew was practically attached to her hip. He posted a candid photo of her sitting on a beach chair, the ocean in the background and a soft smile on her face. The caption was simple: My favourite view.

"You're going to make people sick with how sweet you are," she joked when she saw the post.

"Good," he said, pulling her into his arms. "Let them be sick. I don't care."

That night, as they sat on the beach together, watching the waves crash against the shore, Drew couldn't help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world.

"I love you," he said suddenly, his voice soft but steady.

She turned to look at him, her eyes wide and a little surprised.

"I mean it," he continued, his gaze locked on hers. "I love you. More than anything."

A smile spread across her face, and she reached up to cup his cheek. "I love you too, Drew."

In that moment, with the stars beginning to twinkle above them and the sound of the ocean in the background, Drew felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. With her.

Always with her.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was so sweet :’) there’s something about guys who are so lovesick and obsessed with their gf’s that just MELTS my heart😫

i’m still working my way through all my requests from oldest to newest (except a couple i got good inspiration for), so please be patient if you’ve recently requested something !! <3

[soulwrencher]

how would it taste, and the way you move

summary: ellie takes you back to her place after patrol, letting you take a closer look at her tattoo but you find yourself eating her out instead.

warnings: not proof read, nsfw

"you thought that was off-putting?" you gasp and slowly chuckle at the sight of ellie's forehead forming wrinkles as she raises her eyebrows. "i mean, how would you like it if i went—" she scoots closer, her eyes searching for yours. inhaling sharply, she waits a second, or two, before she wiggles her head like a bobblehead. her mouth is wide open, she's screaming silently, only the air rolling over her tongue is audible.

"no way," you burst out into laughter, and she does too. suddenly the fairy lights over her couch seem much brighter, you notice the warm tones illuminating her face, shining onto the ridges of her scars. "so... how did you like that?" she rubs her shoulder, a scoff escaping underneath her breath.

"can you blame me though? i totally panicked when i saw that crack on your mask," apologetic eyes, how could ellie ever be upset with you? it might've not been the smartest thing to do, screaming at the top of your lungs while you just finished dealing with several clickers. she just thought it was sweet that you cared for her, although anyone would react the same way, but for some reason she likes to read more into your actions. no specific reason, she just had a soft spot for you, that's what the auburn-haired woman would tell herself when she would lay awake at night thinking of you.

"guess i owe you a more throughout explanation then," she says, her mind overly aware of the fact that your shoulders are touching. you tilt your head towards her in anticipation, exposing the skin on your neck. her eyes trace the way the light is illuminating you, from your nose bridge to your jaw, down to your collarbone all the way to your shoulder.

ellie shuts her eyes close once, inhales and exhales deep twice. she watches your eyes wander down to her forearm closely as she rolls up the sleeve to expose her tattoo. you've always been curious about seeing it up close, you couldn't lie about the fact that you thought that it made her insanely attractive. objectively, of course.

"you see this?" her soft tone pulling you out of thought. she tilts her head, eyes lingering on yours. green eyes, you want to get lost in them. you scrunch up your face at that thought, you're not supposed to have thoughts like these, you tell yourself. you squint, trying to see what she's pointing at. "hold up," ellie reaches out for your hand, but she stops herself. "can i?" she asks, you nod.

the second the tip of her fingers touch the back of your hand, it sent shivers all over your skin. your body couldn't deny what your mind has been trying to any longer.

she gently makes you form a fist, pressing every finger of yours down leaving out your index finger. her thumb glides over your palm as she wraps her fingers around your wrist, pulling your hand softly towards her forearm for you to feel. it was mesmerizing watching her put so much care into such a simple action that it made you become self-conscious over the speed of your heartbeat and the heat creeping up your face.

you avert your gaze rapidly towards her tattoo, feeling the textured parts of her skin.

"oh," it escapes your mouth, your eyes widen in embarrassment. you didn't mean to, your mind was racing. "yeah, i was bitten, it looked like shit," she chuckles, her eyes focused on the back of your hand. "but i covered it up, pretty neat, huh?" ellie continues, as she slightly twists her forearm to the left and right underneath the fairy lights. "yeah, you look really good,"

"i do?" ellie blushes. she can't read too much into it, but it's already too late. the words have left your lips already, you can't take it back, you're visibly embarrassed.

but seeing her reaction, seeing her freckles drown in the pink of her cheeks, maybe it wasn't so bad. perhaps you really didn't mind seeing her get all flustered like this over a singular compliment. and while your mind begs you to pull yourself together, you've been dying to know what it felt like to let your guard down for once.

"yeah, i think you look really good," you repeat once more, carefully watching her. "thank you," her voice is low and soft, she can't ignore her racing heart any longer. just a soft spot, but was that really it? why would ellie's heart jump at you finding her decent?

"you're really pretty too," she says, inching a little closer. she holds her breath, anticipating your reaction. but she couldn't see coming that you were reaching for the side of her cheek, cupping her face in your hand. you've been wanting to do this, wanting to close the distance, you wanted her and she did too. and as the fairy lights emit the warmth coming from your bodies, you lose yourself in short, desperate kisses.

her hands searching your body, eyes adoring every inch of your skin, something ellie dreamed of each night she couldn't sleep and every time she's been on patrol with you, she couldn't help but wonder what's been hiding underneath those clothes of yours. undressing you, that's all she could think of and you could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her fingers dragged over the only skin that was exposed. but you've been craving for her more, so you push her gently against the armrest of the couch, the auburn-haired woman was quivering under your touch already.

"you seem so tough, but i know," you whisper as you gaze down on her. "you know what?" she looks up to you through her lashes, fuck did she look pretty.

"i know how soft you are," you go on, as you play with the rim of her shirt. you feel her skin heat up, she's looking away, inhaling deeply while in thought before her green eyes pierce through you and waver your confidence. "if you start something now," she begins, while adjusting her body to place her veiny hands on your waist. "it's gonna be hard to stop me," she continues, gaze lingering on you. you hold her hands on your waist and move them up to your face, still holding them. you've let your guard down already, and the way she's been looking at you has left you throbbing, so you weren't going to stop here.

"keep up then," you say as you make ellie slightly part her legs to allow space for your knee in between, her soft lips are on yours.

ellie has been dying to know what you've tasted like. but your knee being dangerously close to her pussy was distracting her, she wanted more, she wanted for you to actually touch her. her arms around your neck, you begin to undress her while dragging your lips down her neck all the way to her sternum.

"fuck, they're gorgeous," you exhale as you cup her tits. you squeeze and knead, making her inhale sharply. ellie winces and a little noise escapes her mouth, enough to drive you crazy. you accidentally shove your knee in between her legs as you lean forward to pull down her pants and watch her bite down a moan, fuck, you want to go crazy on her. but you have to hold back, you tell yourself. not until her panties reveal the wet spot that her pants have been hiding.

"is this okay?" you ask, she nods hastily. you tease her swollen lips through the fabric, making her move her hips desperately to feel more. "so you're just gonna tease me?" ellie says breathlessly. you get on your knees, move the fabric to the side and spread her lips, exposing her clit. "you look so pretty like this," you whisper over her clit, making her grab onto your hair. she couldn't take any of this teasing any longer, ellie desperately wanted for you to make her feel good, to eat her out. her clit has been throbbing ever since you've been here, craving your touch.

how could you resist when ellie was this wet for you, when she's been squirming and tugging your hair, you've never seen this side of her. you drag your tongue over her clit, all the way up and then back down, curving your tongue slightly into her hole.

"fuck, more," ellie moans, thighs squeezing your head as she throws back hers, she felt the sensation all over her body. she's so wet, sucking on her clit makes you have to swallow, but you absolutely love the way she tastes. you let your tongue circle around, just a little more.

"please, if you just—" you go right over her cunt, tugging her between your lips, curving your tongue up and down while putting more pressure on her clit. ellie grabs your hair and moves her pelvic floor like crazy, the way you were eating her out makes her feel like she just ascended, she wants to go higher, she wants you to take her there.

her moans and grunts only turn you on more and more. she sounds so pretty that you want to keep her all to yourself but you knew she wasn't yours to have.

"you make me feel so good, please keep going," the auburn-haired woman begs, the desperation oozing out from her voice. it didn't matter if she wasn't yours to have, all that did matter is that she wants you know, she's been screaming and moaning your name, trembling at your touch, rolling her eyes back at the feeling. you're the one in control, and you're surprised she even let you. she might not be yours, but no one knows that ellie enjoys being taken care of, that she enjoy you taking care of her. and so she moans your name as she cums into your mouth, she's been so wet that her juices have covered your whole lower half of your face and you loved every second of it.

you get up but stay close, her eyes are searching for yours. you wrap your arms around her and pull her into a kiss, she looks so pretty like this, illuminated by the lightening. her freckles are so pretty, you don't want to leave yet. but were you ready to be bold?

"you wanna wash up and grab something to eat?" you ask, your voice low, what if she rejected you? a grin spreads over her lips. "we could get high and watch something too," ellie adds as she plays with your hair. "sounds good to me," you say, kissing her cheek.

a/n: hey sorry for lying that i'm gonna drop a part two of something i wrote a month ago im sorry i lie alot but here's reader eating ellie out i hope that's good enough LOL

[rosenclaws]

Would You Fall In Love with Me Again || Worst!Logan x Reader

Would you fall in love with me again If you knew all I've done? The things I cannot change Would you love me all the same? I know that you've been waiting, waiting for love

warnings: angsty af, happy ending, sad logan.

wc: 1.5k

alternate version

a/n: I heard this song and immediately pictured Logan so this fic was cooked up! I hope y'all like it <3 I'd recommend listening to the song while reading or before or after! Its a great musical btw

Logan holds the small piece of paper in his hands. It's been crumpled and flattened countless times. He turns it over in his hands, the faded black in is just bright enough to read. He glances down at it again. Written on it is an address. Laura's words playing over and over in his head.

Find her. She would want to see you.

Would you? Would you want to see him? He's not the same man that you knew. He's not your man. He's not the hero you remember. He's just a broken, tired, old man. He's a coward.

Laura gave him your address shortly after he came to his world. But he never went. He was afraid. This tiny slip of paper would keep him up at night. If the nightmares didn't get to him first than this stupid, little paper did. He debated on throwing it away.

You didn't need him. You were better off without him. But was he? You were his better half. Always had been. Just one look, a meeting. Closure. So he set off to find you one last time.

Each foot step weighs heavy as he marches to your front door. A small cabin tucked away from the the busy town only a few miles away. This is his handiwork. Logan always promised you that he'd build you a house one day, when you two were done with all the X-Men bullshit.

He had already written out the plans back before...before he lost you. Initials are carved into one of the wood boards. His fingers running over the letters, tracing them as his mind floods with memories of you.

He raises his fist and knocks at your door. His ears straining to hear you move behind the wooden door. Though if you didn't answer he couldn't blame you. He's the ghost of the man you once loved standing on your doorstep. He waits and waits and nothing.

His shoulders sag in defeat. What was he thinking? This was stupid. He takes the paper and crumbles it up in his hands, throwing it as far as he could into the woods.

"Pretty sure that's littering." He freezes at the sound of your voice. He knows it's you. He doesn't need to see your face, this voice had been haunting his nightmares for years.

"Logan?" He nearly falls to his knees. His name sounds so sweet coming from your lips. He hasn't heard it in so long. Ever so slowly he turns around, a part of him afraid this is another dream.

"Is it really you?" You're holding a grocery bag, dressed up for the cold weather. He's frozen as you walk up to him. Your eyes shine with tears as your hand reaches out for him.

"Please tell me its you." Your hand cups his face.

Thumb lightly brushing over his face. He looks different. He looks tired. So much pain behind those gorgeous eyes. He melts into your touch. He clenches his fists at his side as he leans his head into your hand.

"My love, how I've missed you." Logan opens his eyes to see the wedding band sitting on your finger. He never got the chance to give that to you.

"Sweetheart...I'm not the same man." He wishes he was. God he wishes he could sweep you up in his arms. Runaway and live in this cabin for all eternity. You smile softly. Your hand leaves his face and he visibly sinks.

"Come inside yeah?" Without thinking he takes the grocery bag out of your hands and follows you inside. There's not much inside.

"Laura told me about you, she sent letters when she came back." You explain as you reach into the fridge and pull out a beer, his favorite.

"I buy a new pack every week, in case you ever showed up." You smile when you talk but Logan can only focus on the bottle in front of him. The guilt eating him alive.

"I'm so sorry." He chokes out.

"For what?" You ask. He looks at you in disbelief, how could you be so forgiving, so welcoming.

"I'm not your husband. I-I'm not the man you fell in love with." He places the beer on the counter. If he closes his eyes he can picture you and him in this little cabin. Be the family you both always wanted. But he's not yours.

"I know you aren't. I'm not a fool Logan. But..." He's not your husband, he's different. He's not a replacement for the man you once loved but your love for Logan was stronger than anything you've ever felt.

"Would you fall in love with me again? You don't know what I've done. I'm not worthy of the love you gave to him." A tear slips down Logan's face.

He sinks to the ground, on his knees. Silently begging to be loved by you once again. The shame of his past chains him to the ground, he can't even look at you.

"What did you do my love?" You cup his face and tilt his head up.

"I lost you, I lost everyone. I can still smell your blood, I can still hear your voice calling to me. But I walked away." He grabs onto your wrists and holds onto them desperately.

"I walked away from you." You wipe away a tear that falls down his cheeks. His normally stoic face crumbles into a mess of despair and loneliness.

"I needed to numb myself. I started drinking, I started killing. I left a trail of blood in my wake." He expects you to cower away from him. To be disgusted with what he's done.

"Once I started, I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. I was so angry, so buried in my grief that the only thing I could feel was rage." The grip on your wrists is firm and tight. Not to the point of pain but he's locked around your hands. Please don't leave him again, please.

"Forgive me." You drop his face and it hangs low, ashamed of what he's revealed to you. You've been waiting for him, all this time only to come and disappoint you.

"If you think that's true, that you're not the same man I feel in love with. Then leave."

"W-What?" He's taken aback.

"You want me to leave?"

"I don't want you to leave but you keep saying you're not the same man. So if you truly believe that, than leave." Logan is stunned to silence.

"No." He says without thinking. He's spent every night missing you, thinking of you. You're here in front of him, it's not the same you but he still loves you. He will always love you.

"I can't leave you, I just found you again I...I won't." He stands up and takes your hand.

"This wedding band, I bought it after out first date. I knew, that I was in love with you but I was so scared to lose you." Tears fall down your face as he presses your hand against his face.

"I ended up losing you anyways."

"He told me that story when he proposed." You say softly. He may be from another universe but he will always be the love of your life.

"You asked if I'd fall for you again, how could I not?" He presses his forehead to yours, noses knocking together as you get to take in the man before you.

"I will always love you. I don't care how you got here, where you're from or what you've done. " You close your eyes as Logan wraps you up in his arms. Holding you close as he whispers apologies.

"No matter how long its been, you're mine." You kiss Logan fiercely, tasting the man who you've longed to hold in your arms again.

He's equally as desperate to feel you. His hands squeezing your sides gently as he walks you back until you hit the wall. Your hands run through his hair, the feeling of your wedding band in his hair only eggs him on.

Silently he thanks the universe for bringing him to you, for your forgiving, loving nature. He would have begged on his knees for a chance like this. He growls when you tug on his hair. His hand slipping up your shirt just to feel your skin. When you finally part he refuses to stay too far.

"Tell me Logan, how long as it been." Your heart aches to think of the pain he's been through. The life he's had to live without anyone to calm his self loathing thoughts.

"I can't even remember." He sounds so tired as he buries his face in your neck.

"It's okay, I'm here now."

"I love you." He whispers, a sense of relief washing over him as he utters the words he thought he'd never get to say again.

You had been waiting for him to come home and you would have waited until the day you too your last breath. He's worth it, all that waiting was worth it for you to call Logan yours.

"I love you too Logan, forever."

[cluelessatthispoint]

A Dragon's Hoard pt.1

(Mythical AU of the 141)

(This fic is inspired by bluegiragi and docdudo.)

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

You've never been one for the warmth that most people eminate. The kindness that sparkles in someone's eyes when they see someone they know and love. The way a person's tone changes to show their interest in a conversation, or how families get close and share hugs amongst one another. It's sweet, you think. Sweet but pointless. Smiles can be faked, tones can be raised and lowered on a whim. Scrunchingbupbyour nose in disdain as you spy another group of travelers walking along the beaten path. The sounds of their laughter and idle chatter already fading as the sounds of gravel underfoot growing fainter.

A pang of envy settles between your ribcage. The feeling of it twisting and festering almost burns. Never once had you ever experienced that. Never a tender smile or a kind word was ever directed at you. Thinking back as far as you can, there was always one constant: being alone. Ever since the great fire raged six summers ago, you've been displaced. Wandering and begging for scraps of food or even taking refuge within the churches when the bitter cold sweeps across the land. It is a harsh life for a child your age. Eleven years old and orphaned. Truly, if the orphanages weren't so full and if the staff cared, you figured you'd be stuck there. But seeing as they were full to bursting and low on income, you were throw. To the curb and barely spared a glance by any passersby.

Which brings you to the present. Living in the woods as best you can, your lean-to near the city's walls, but far enough to be undisturbed by mercenaries and gangs. The farther out away from the city the more people fear to tread. The tales of the great dragon who prowls the far edge of the woods have been told by young and old alike. Each story growing more fierce and bloody with each retelling. But so long as you're living without being pestered by people it's fine by you. Scowling as the bright sun shines brightly overhead, you practically have to squint to make out the shapes of birds flying overhead or in the trees. Sling shot in hand and a pain in your empty stomach spurs you on to find a meal. There are plenty of edible roots this time of year, with a few already back safely tucked into the confines of a nook in your lean-to. The only piece left to a decent meal would be some protein. With the birds twittering and chirping overhead. The sounds of mother birds feeding their squalling chicks is grating to your ears. Already irritated beyond compare from hunger pangs and envy. You screech out an angered shout as you set off your loaded slingshot amongst the trees. A sick hope of the rock somehow hitting a bird makes you smile bitterly. But the only thing you can hear is a gruff chortle followed by a accented baritone voice.

"Well now, what have we got here so far in my end of the woods?"

Your eyes widen as you can see a figure come stumbling out of the foliage. His tone possessive as he mentions the woods being his. A large hand on his head rubbing the sore spot of where the rock made impact. An apology rises to your warbling vocal chords only to be cut off as you see the large, curling horns protruding from his head. Smoke billowing from his mouth in a steady stream as he lets out an amused chuckle at your speechless state. Stretching his arms overhead in a mocking show of strength. You can see one large green wing furled in close to his back.

"Well?"

His deep voice sends a wave of fear through your bones. He could easily snap your neck with a flap of his wing, or crush you with his bare hands if he wanted to. Gazing wide eyed in fear...you can only think of how the stories that were told were true. Looking up at the hulking figure, you can see why the stories were never the same. This dragon...this man...this creature is somehow both. A hybrid of sorts.

Not bothering to stay around and chat. You bolt as if the devil himself were after you. Your tiny legs running as fast as you can. With the way your autonomic nervous system is kicking in. Your legs feel both like jelly and pins and needles from all the adrenaline. Panting heavily as you run the feeling of copper rises to your tongue as your lungs strain for air. Running was never your strongest attribute. The hybrid could tell that as well as even over the beating of your heart in your ears you can hear him running not to far behind you. His strides much longer than yours, a grin on his face as you can hear a giddy sort of chuckle rumblebfrom his chest.

"What's a hatchling like you doing all the way out here sweet thing?"

A pair of strong arms wrap securely around you as you flail and kick wildly. The scent of smoke and sweat fills your nose as you scratch at the arms holding you in place. The rumbling timbre of his voice sends vibrations through your body as he holds you securely against his chest.

"Been watching you for a while hatchling, all alone in these woods. Should have been eaten a long time ago."

As if those words weren't frightening enough, deep down in the pit of your belly you know them to be blaringly true. The amount of times you've stayed up in the night fending off wild animals were more than enough to prove his point. Tensing in the Hybrids strong arms, he adjusts his hold as if holding a squirming newborn fawn. His hot breath ghosting over the top of your head and neck. As if sensing your blinding fear, the hybrid chuckles, a rumbling purr rising from the chest behind you.

"Hush now...Papa's here, lil treasure. Papa's here."

Stilling immediately out of fear at the hybrid’s words. Whether condescending or not, you can't help but relax slightly. The fight leaving your tired body as soon as the adrenaline runs out. Your heart pitter pattering in your chest almost painfully. Sucking in greedy lung fulls of air, you can't help but relax begrudgingly against the warmth that the massive body behind you eminates. You're stuck here now.

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

We all know who the dragon is :) it's everyone's favorite tired dad Price!

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

[aeristudios]

F.U.C.K.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex!bf Seungcheol x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, small fluff, lovers to exes au, 18+

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You've been on and off forever and you couldn't leave him alone if you tried. You have an itch only Seungcheol can scratch.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, oral, missionary, riding, praise, dirty talk, creampie, clit stim, multiple orgasms, a bit of overstimulation, Coups is a lover boi, angsty feelings about the relationship

𝐀𝐍: Thank youuuuu @hobeemin & @wongyuseokie for reading this for me and Beezy you are the best hype woman ever <3. Also thank you @aaagustd for making this sexy ass banner 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: 💿 F.U.C.K- Victoria Monet, Dirty Dancer- Orion Sun, Idea 686- Jayla Darden, Strings- iyla, Behind- Woodz, Forgive Me- Chloe x Halle, Art- Tyla, I Could Imagine- Alina Baraz, Good& Plenty- Alex Isley, Masego and Jack Dine, Skin Tight- Ravyn Lenae Steve Lacy, Idea 683- Jayla Darden, Body and Soul- Emotional Oranges and Biig Piig, Butterflies- Tyla, Between Us- Alina Baraz, Nasty- Tinashe, Under The Moon - Alex Isley, Jack Dine (spotify)

It’s complicated. Your Facebook relationship status has been that way for over a year. If someone asked, you wouldn’t know how to define your relationship with Seungcheol. You can’t say you’re just friends when the love is still there, but you can’t stay together longer to just work. Something happens, and you argue and split up. Months, sometimes years, can go by, and you feel like you’ve finally moved on, but all he has to do is call, or you have an itch that needs scratching, and there he is, ready to make it go away.

He stands there in front of you, his dark hair clipped and trimmed perfectly, highlighting the handsome features on his face: his dark, round eyes, high cheekbones, and plump pink lips. He comes dressed in a simple white tee and sweats, with an overnight bag in hand, as he knows he is staying the night. Seungcheol smirked as he walked in, placing a small kiss on your temple. 

“Well, hello to you too,” you say, shutting the door behind you. You watch him take off his shoes, walk into your living room, and admire the view of the city through your picture windows. You just moved into your high-rise condo a couple of months ago, and your job promotion allows you to level up in life and enjoy nice things for once. Your place looks straight out of a movie, with your tastes added. Your favorite color is blue, and you included it in your decor. 

“You kept the couch?” Seungcheol points at the royal blue sectional sofa with matching gold-trimmed throw pillows you bought from your favorite thrift store. “Yes,” you say proudly. “That couch is my pride and joy. We’ve been through a lot together.” Memories about the many times you spent together on the couch, clothed and unclothed, cloud your mind. He chuckles as you sashay to the kitchen, grabbing a bottled water. You offer him one, and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the city's shining lights. He’s been in your life for five years, meeting at a grocery store with both of your hands on the last bag of cherries. He relented, letting you have them in exchange for your number. You didn’t give it to him, hoping that you would see him again. At the time, you just moved to the city, and if you were meant to meet again, you would give him your number. A couple of weeks later, you did when you went to a birthday dinner with your former roommate. His eyes twinkled when you exchanged glances, and you felt like it was fate.  “You did it,” he felicitates you. “You did everything we talked about doing all those years ago. I’m proud of you.”

You would have late nights with him in your shitty old apartment, eating Chinese takeout in bed and talking about your hopes for the future. Seungcheol wanted to have it all: a nice house, cars, and riches beyond his dreams. All you wanted was a good life. You grew up poor, raised by a single mom who worked two jobs to ensure you had a roof over your head. You understood each other in that way, and it worked between you two for a while… until it didn’t.

“You got your high rise before me,” you appear beside him. “What does it feel like, being the top broker in your firm?”

“It’s nice,” he nods. “It keeps me busy.”

You knew that all too well. One of the reasons you broke up was time. His work felt more important than maintaining a relationship with you. You swear if someone called in the middle of the night, he would answer in a heartbeat. It’s not like you aren’t busy; you work on Wall Street. But you still made time to be with him at all important events and when it mattered most. The energy wasn’t reciprocated.

“I see nothing has changed,” you say, taking a swig of your water.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I think I am ready for it, though.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah. There is no point in having all of this if there is no one to share it with, right?”

You didn’t have to say anything back because he was right. What is the point of working hard, making more money than your parents could ever dream of, traveling, and having life experiences without having someone to share them with? It also incredibly frustrates you. Why did it take five years for him to get to this point? The back and forth, blocking each other on all accounts. Was it worth it?

You two are silent, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. His fingers slip in between yours, pulling you closer to him. Just being near him makes your heart skip several beats. No one like him can melt you just by his touch and presence. Yes, he can irritate you to no end, but he also makes your soul smile.

“I missed you,” he says, gazing at you. 

“I know.” 

You kiss him, the magic stirring in your chest as he returns your feelings; sparks all around you two like fireworks. Your hands explore him fervently, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on your couch. He unhooks your bra, helping you out of your shirt and exposing your breasts. He bites his lip as he palms his growing bulge, the very thought of his lips all over you making you hot.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. 

You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom, climbing over your king-size bed. He follows you closely, his index finger sliding up your thigh. It feels electric, having him touch you again after so long. You have tried moving on, going on dates, and having one-night stands here and there. But deep down, those people weren’t him. Seungcheol knows your body, what makes you tick, your boundaries, and what drives you crazy. It’s exhausting trying to find that chemistry with someone else. Too bad you can’t just make it work. 

He slides your shorts and panties off with one hand, your naked body being illuminated by the moonlight. He notices your sheets, trying to hold it in before succumbing to a belly laugh. 

“Cherry sheets? Really?” He says in between breathes.

“Come on now,” you chuckle. “You know I love my little house on the prairie sheets.” “I swear you were born in the wrong generation,” Seungcheol expresses, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Yeah, maybe,” you muse over his words. “I’m glad I met you in this lifetime, though.” He admires you, his thumb caressing your cheek before he kisses you again. This time, it’s more heartfelt, your bodies hungry for another as each minute passes. His hand travels down to your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart and slowly entering a digit into your wet core. Seungcheol licks his lips, watching your eyes roll back as you unravel his arms. “Shit,” you moan. “Keep doing it just like that.”

“I’m going to do more than that,” he whispers in your ear. 

Seungcheol was already great with his fingers, slipping one more in you as his tongue played in circles on your neck, your sweet-smelling perfume intoxicating to him. He loves the way your brows furrow when he goes deep, your mind focused on nothing else but cumming all over his hand. You play with your clit, drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you, with your wetness pooling onto your sheets. You two are connected in a way, in your own little bubble surrounded by ecstasy.

“Fuck baby,” you pant as pressure builds up in your stomach. “I’m almost there.” He pulls his fingers out of you quickly, snapping you out of your zone, and you whimper in protest. He aggressively pulls down his pants and briefs, revealing his hardened cock already leaking with precum. He slides down to your entrance, his face nose deep in between your legs before he dives in; his tongue attacks your sweet nectar. Sensational couldn't even begin to describe how you feel. He eats you with an enthusiasm that almost makes you laugh despite the deep pleasure he brings you. “You taste better than I remembered,” he mouths. “Cum for me.”

Your body is at its brink, ready to fall, when Seungcheol slips his fingers in, working together with his tongue to make sure you hit that pool of ecstasy. Your hands grip his hair, and your orgasm hits you like cool water on a warm day. You feel him smirk against your thigh, leaving you with lasting, small kisses before lifting his face and revealing your essence on the lower half. You cover your mouth to hold back your giggles, and he rolls his eyes, leaning over and kissing your lips. “I’m not sorry,” you breathe. “You knew what you were doing.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he smirks. “Especially when I’m going to make you do it again.”

Seungcheol lifts your leg, pulling himself back as he rubs his throbbing dick against your entrance. Your eyes grow wide as he taps your sensitive, swollen clit, a mischievous grin on his face. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says as if reading your thoughts. “I’m going to start slow.” “You don’t want me to blo—” you start to protest. “No, I’ve waited long enough,” his deep and velvety voice serves as a warning. FUCK.

He enters you inch by inch, stretching you out the way you like, your fingers already gripping the sheets. You look at him through a hazy daze, his focus on burying himself deep inside of you, bringing you a deep satisfaction. You enjoy watching his Adam’s apple shift when he moans, his voice barely audible while he dives into you. You remember the first time you slept together; he had your legs over his shoulder, fucking you long and deep on top of your blue couch at your old place. You both didn’t intend for it to happen that way; you were caught up in the highs of seeing a band you both enjoy, and one thing led to another. His dick is long with a bit of a curve, fitting perfectly like your pussy was molded and made for him. No one has even come close. 

“Give it to me,” you breathe. “Please, I need you bad.” Seungcheol loves it when you beg for it, and he obliges, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. Maybe it’s because you love him, but he is the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. The way his hips roll as he snaps into you, watching him come in and out of you with your wetness coating him, turns you on. Your hands grasp his face, your thumb slipping into his mouth as he fucks you silly. You can barely form words in your head, let alone say anything else but “fuck” and “make me cum”. He fucks you in a way that makes you have wet dreams and leaves you with a puddle in your sheets. If he were a Greek god, he would be Eros, the god of love and sex. That’s how bad he has you. “Turn over,” you grit your teeth. You lean up and flip him over, his throbbing cock still inside you as you are on top of him. You let your body take over, riding him while his hands are placed firmly on your breasts. You set the pace, and he follows, a harmonious rhythm between the two of you, your senses heightened to another level. You are on this incredible high, sliding on his shaft while you vigorously play with your clit, ready to cum. “Did you miss this?  He teases you as he grinds harder into you. “Did you miss sitting on this dick until you cum?” You nod fervently, your hand still playing with your clit, and you are ready to explode. 

“Fuck,” he grits his teeth. “I’m close. Let’s come together like we always do.” You erupt, screaming his name while he sloppily pumps into you, his hair sweaty and his succulent lips red from biting. He leans up and kisses you hard, your moans and words of praise swallowed and digested. Whatever you were going to say, he felt it more, your hearts beating in unison powered by your feelings for each other. He talks you through it, helping you come down from your high before he releases his own, spilling into you until he is completely spent. You’ve been on birth control for years, and Seungcheol is the only person you’ve let hit without a condom. It just feels so right with him. You roll off of him, collapsing on your pillow as you try and catch your breath. His breathing is relaxed, and when you gaze at him, his eyes are closed, already half asleep. You attempt to get out of bed, but he grabs your arm, pulling you close to him. 

“Stay,” he kisses your shoulder. “I sleep better when you’re with me.” 

You can’t deny him when he is in this state, pulling on your heartstrings like that. 

“Fine, you win,” you say without much effort. 

Glancing at the time, it’s after 12, and fatigue finally hits you at least. Snuggling into him, you fall into a deep sleep, but not before admitting that you still love him and would do anything for him. 

The sunlight is not kind as it peers through your windows and wakes you up a little after 9. You had forgotten to draw the curtains before you fell asleep, but you didn’t have much energy left after the night you had. You woke him up after three, sucking his cock until he exploded down your throat, and he returned the favor by eating you out until you were ripe from overstimulation. You made such a mess that you had to change your sheets and listen to him teasing you about your “old lady” sheets. Whatever, you liked them.

You rolled over, and Seungcheol was already awake, scrolling through his phone. He notices you and kisses your forehead before removing your blanket and smacking your ass.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, leaning back against the headboard.

You chuckle as you get out of bed, grab your silk robe, and walk into the bathroom. You feel sore; last night’s shenanigans are indeed catching up with you. You just want to lay in bed and relax, but you have this nagging feeling in your stomach. You could brush it off and deal with it later, but knowing you, you will overthink, turning it into something it's not. You have to know how he feels.

Finishing up in the bathroom, you leave to find him setting orange juice on your nightstand with a couple of ibuprofen. He is only dressed in his sweats and nothing underneath, your center aching for him despite the tenderness you feel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, reading your look. You have never had a good poker face.

You sit down on the bed, take your two pills, and wash them down with orange juice. You allow yourself to get your thoughts in order. You're unsure what to say, but you know the conversation needs to be had.

“What are we doing?” you blurt out. “I love you, and you never stopped loving me. Why can’t we just get it right?”

The silence is too deafening for your liking. It would be like you to tear the band-aid off first thing in the morning. But you hate being in the dark, not knowing what the future will hold. You’re not saying that you have to jump the broom, but you have to know if there’s any chance he feels the same way you do.

“I-I-m sorry,” you shake your head. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you first thing in the morning. Forget I said anything.” 

You attempt to leave the room before Seungcheol catches your arm and motions for you to sit down. Grudgingly, you do, sitting on your ottoman and facing him. “You didn’t even give me a chance to respond,” he complains. “You can’t always assume how I feel is something bad. Give me a chance.” You nod, knowing deep down he is right. “You are right,” He admits. “I love you, and this song and dance we’ve been doing for years is tired. I came to you last night because I missed you and I need you. You’re the only one in my life who has always kept it straight with me, even when you get on my nerves.” You smirk at his comment, knowing it’s true. “But we have also been apart for a long time, and as much as I want to jump back into our usual routine, I recognize we have grown up a bit and need to get to know each other as our different selves.” You nod slowly, mulling over his words, unsure what to say. “I also don’t want to see anyone else,” he breathes. “You are the only person I want to see, to do this with.” He points at the sheets, and you roll your eyes. It would be like him to somehow bridge it back to sex. 

“So…” your voice trails off. “What are we then? We are more than friends but not together? I don’t understand.” “I want to be with you,” he grabs your hands. “If we fight and storm off to our houses, I’d rather it be that then we break up and don’t talk for months at a time. I hate that.” You nod, finally understanding what he is saying. He is scared of the future, just like you are. But in this life, you would rather go through it with him than anyone else. You have too much time and feelings just to throw it away. “Maybe we can try talking to someone about it this time around?” You say. “A therapist or something? I want to be with you, and maybe working through our issues to understand each other better sometimes is what we need.” “Yeah, I’m open to that.” He hugs you, embracing you tightly before leaving sweet kisses on your face. You are deathly ticklish, and he knows it. He moves his kisses elsewhere until you find yourself in your bed, his body towering over yours. He leaves you one more kiss on your lips before laying his head on your chest. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispers.

You look down and smile, caressing the dark stresses in his hair.

“Yeah. We will be.”

[peonpeonpeonpeonpeon]

A Misunderstanding

ׂ╰┈➤ summary: whereas you find malleus outside ramshackle after his overblot

—

���─ .✦ A/N: malleus x yuu, reader is yuu, this takes place a month after malleus threw a party (BOOK 7 SPOILERS)

word count: 1.1k

You have never been this concerned yet happy before. Usually, when a person finally can go home to their own world, it would mean everything right? Well, for you, it is, but with additional feelings, you seem to can't get it off your chest. It has been a month since Malleus' grand party, his overblot, and after finally finding a way getting back to your world. It is tiring sure but you knew that every little effort you and your team made across those unrealistic dreams, it helped Malleus in every single way.

You toss and turn on the blank sheet. Grim has dozed off and you're sure you're the only one awake here in Ramshackle. The clock beside your head was ticking its time off, you peek at the time—2AM—You sigh, the feeling still not unraveling in your heart. You've known them—your Night Raven friends—for a while, sure, some of the Night Raven students doesn't like you but finally finding a way to go back to your world and having the chance to never meet with your precious friends again, it truly is a devastating moment, especially with your horned friend, your one of a kind friend, or you can say your late night rendezvous friend.

Seeing his face brings back memories. When you first met him outside of Ramshackle, your hair messy and one brow raised, he refrains from telling you his name in fear that you might start avoiding him like all others. To how your latest meeting was about his childhood and the fact that you informed him about finally finding a way to get back home. His eyes widened and brows raised, he understood and sulked away.

Looking through the window, you see hints of green fireflies outside Ramshackle. Your heart ached, wanting to talk to him yet resisting in hopes to make him feel better all alone without you, yet you slipped your feet into your slippers to talk to him before it's too late, before you finally can travel the world again to meet your family and friends. The sound of floorboards creaking until you opened the front entrance to reveal Malleus, standing and sulking. As you walk up to him slowly, he turns his head around as his face slightly softens.

"Child of man."

"Hornton."

Silence once again engulfed the scene. With only your pajamas and slippers, Malleus held out his hand in an invitation; a stroll. "What's this, Hornton?"

"Why isn't it clear? Let us take a stroll around here, Child of Man." You shivered, you can accept him, but the temperature right now must've dropped. Trembled, you take his hand softly and let him lead. His hand colder than the air yet warm enough to melt your heart. His broken horn shining slightly against the moonlight. 'It looks rock crystal, rich in deep emerald.' You murmured.

"Are you staring, Child of Man?" He turns his head to you, each step on the rocky steps running through your ears. Right, superhearing is an ordinary feature of fae. You shake your head, not wanting to talk yet with your nocturnal friend. His eyes widens, you’re not sure what that means yet you only shrug it off.

“Child of Man—it seems that you are distress of something.” Malleus slowed his walk, as you do so too, you answer. “Well it seems like I’ve been caught..”

“Tell me, what has been bothering your mind?”You close your eyes. This, this topic has always made you uneasy, yes, you might aswell be different from how you used to be excited to finally be home again, but overtime, thinking over this just saddens you because of how much time you took socializing, making friends and overall having friends by your side for a long time.

“I already told you, haven’t I? I found a way to go home—“ His gaze took off from your face to the ground, he clenches his fist that also holds your hand. You felt it, the overwhelming feeling of the dragon fae. You were grateful, ever since his horn broke off, he can finally start controlling his emotions in deeper ways, not to just be upset and be a disaster of the century.

“Sorry, that was a little harsh, wasn’t it? I apologize, Malleus, I never wanted to come off that way.” Malleus? You are using his name, instead of the usual, friendly nickname? He unclenches his hand, not wanting to cause a hustle yet still wanting his emotions be clear. It looks like he has left away some feelings into his jar of kept feelings, that was probably already leaking from how full it is.

“Have I become a lesser friend to you, Child of Man?” He stops walking, the hand that was holding yours left to be tucked in his arms. “What? No, no you have not. What makes you think of that?”

“I do not believe calling me besides your usual nickname is alright.”

“Have you become fearing me, Child of Man?” He still calls you that, though. You think he would return the favor and call you by your name, yet he remains in his own self and keeps calling you that. “Has my hustle from last month’s disastrous situation feared you, and made you think I am a lesser person than I already am?” His statement calm, or atleast he tries to be.

“Negative, Malleus—I do not think I deserve to call you that if I will never meet you again.” That striked him. He closes his eyes in defeat. “I apologize for being rude, Hornton. I do not think much before speaking.”

“You have been forgiven, Child of Man. I do not think it’s much of a problem. But I do apologize in behalf of my attitude, that was something not a prince would say.” You smiled, linking arms with him. “How long would it be for you to not see yourself not only as a prince, but as someone?”

“It will take hundreds of years, I am sure.” He laughed, starting to lead the stroll again after that tiny misunderstanding. “Do you think my family and friends will be alright over there, in my hometown?”

“Im sure they would be ecstatic, Child of Man. You’ve been nothing but fearless towards me.”

“Really? I think so too, after all..”

As you two continue to stroll down near Ramshackle and in school campus, the moon kissed its time of the night goodbye as you return to the Ramshackle dorm after you recieved a kiss on the forehead from your one and only, unique friend.

—

A/N: i dont think yuu should be calling malleus that after getting a kiss on the forehead

part 2???

[d0rothydraws]

Reader gets attacked on the way home from work late at night.

content: f!reader, violence, possessiveness, murder, blood, after care, fingering, sweet talk, sex.

w/c: 2.2k

Ao3: Here

a/n: I have like 3 other fics im working on, one being where he helps you on your period but apparently thats too soft for my brain because it told me that I needed to write something where Sylus kills for you because I wanted to feel something. Please read the content descriptions, If you aren't comfortable with violence, you can skip to after the break.

It was late, work went longer than expected and you were exhausted. Usually, Sylus would pick you up when it was this late but he had what he called a "non negotiable meeting". He offered to have Luke or Kieran pick you up or order a ride but you refused, stubborn as ever. You were a capable hunter, and besides you've done this walk hundreds of times before. Though, even yet, if Sylus couldn't be there, he did everything in his power to make sure you were safe.

The sound of the mechanical bird's wings was loud in your ears as Mephisto landed on your shoulder, Its eyes shining in the dark, almost like Sylus' himself. "You were waiting." You mumbled as you turned the corner to set off on your journey. Mephisto just turned its head slightly, ruffling its feathers.

A few minutes passed and you heard footsteps behind you. Your shoulders tensed as you put a hand on your gun. You weren't sure what happened, it happened so fast as the steps grew louder, faster. More steps than you could count. An ambush. Your body moved on its own as you turned to try and shoot at one of the men, at any of them. Your gun going off as your body hit the ground. Mephisto flew at them, his razor sharp beak aiming at their eyes. While he did manage to harm one of the attackers, the other two were still surrounding you as the third slapped the crow away.

"What's a pretty little thing doing out this late." One of the men said, pulling a knife out as they watched you try to reach your gun that was just out of arm's reach. Before you could grab your backup plan, the smaller gun Sylus had given you for emergencies, the second man stepped on your hand, making you scream in pain as you were immobilized.

"Eat shit." You hissed, not giving up the fight as you squirmed under them, trying to throw them off of you as the one holding the knife straddled your hips. You spit at him, and in return, he grabbed your jaw. His other hand held the knife against your throat. You refused to show the fear in your eyes as you felt the steel kiss your skin.

"You're too pretty to be using words like that, princess." The man spit. You tried to throw him off of you but the knife pressed harder into your neck. "Keep going and you won't be saying anything soon."

"That fuckin bird got my eye boss! Can't see shit." The third man said, trying to cover his eye to stop the bleeding. The second man spoke up in a mocking tone. "Suck it up, you got another one don't ya? Anyways, ya won't need to see in order to hear the sounds she's gonna make when we-"

The alley filled with black and red smoke. Your heart raced as you heard the sound of Mephisto, and then- "You should know better than to touch what isn't yours." Sylus said calmly, appearing through the smoke as the red and black coils snaked around the men's necks, lifting them in the air. You couldn't move, your body felt paralyzed from the attack. You could only lay there as you watched Sylus approach as the men were raised higher and higher. He looked calm but there was an anger behind those eyes, a fury. Your heart raced, the sounds of the three men that attacked you background noise as your eyes locked with Sylus. Slowly he leaned down to help you up, his touch gentle yet you could feel how tense he was.

One by one the men fell from the sky, each tendril releasing them one by one. As each of the bodies fell from extreme heights, their cries were silenced on impact. Falling to their death efficiently. You didn't see the bodies, barely heard the sound, as Sylus pulled you into his chest, blinding you from the event. You could hear his heart racing, his lips against your ear to cover the sound behind you. "I'm sorry I took so long, sweetie." He said, his voice tense as he rubbed your back slowly as if checking for injuries. "Let's get you cleaned up." He muttered as the coils wrapped around the both of you. It felt surprisingly warm, like a warm gust of summer air. In moments it was as if you were flying, being guided across the city and through the N109 Zone back to his home.

▬ ♦ ▬ ♦ ▬ ♦ ▬

The night was a blur, you felt numb, mentally and physically. Sylus didn't say too much, there was a look in his eye that you have never seen before. His touches were soft as he helped bathe you, cleaning the grime and dirt off of you, paying extra attention to the areas that the men touched as if to replace the memory.

After you were clean, he helped change you. A fresh set of soft pajamas, your favorite cozy fluffy socks to add to it. Slowly, he lead you to the bed. The smell of him filling your senses as you laid down. The images of tonight filled your mind, the faces of the men. How fast everything happened. The feeling of that knife against your throat. Your heart started beating faster as your body tensed slightly.

Strong arms wrapped around you, settling behind you on the bed as he pulled you close against him. He tangled his legs with yours as his hands gently rubbed circles against your skin. His lips against your ear as his words cleared your mind like a prayer.

"It's ok. Nobody will ever touch you again, you're mine. And I'll make sure of that." He whispered, his words sincere as he kissed your ear. "I'll make you forget everything that happened today." He said as his hand dipped under the band of your pajama pants trailing the curve of your hip.

You felt your mind start to melt as you focused on his words, his touch. The smell of sandalwood and bourbon against your nose as the feeling of his hand made you shiver. You felt like you were in his embrace for hours as he whispered into your ear, his hand teasing and grazing your skin gently but with purpose.

His other hand moved under your shirt, trailing up until he reached your chest. Slowly, he rolled one of your nipples between his fingers. His lips moved to your neck, kissing the skin softly before nipping, leaving small red marks down to your shoulder. His hand dipped under the band of your underwear, pads of his fingers brushing against the wetness between your thighs. You gasped softly, a hand moving around to curl into his hair, pulling his lips closer into your skin where he purred in approval.

"That's it kitten, feel every bit of what I do to you." He whispered, voice hot from the feeling of your hand in his hair. "You're doing so well, I love how you shiver when I touch you like this." He said as a finger pushed inside you slowly. Your eyes rolled back as you arched against the hand, moving your hips slightly only for his legs to tighten more, still tangled in yours. "Shh, relax. Don't rush, just enjoy it sweetie."

You felt your body tingle at each touch, each word he spoke into your ear. Your moans became louder, a second finger, and then a third thrusting into you at a slow, deep pace. You gasped his name softly, feeling your core tighten as his thumb brushed against your clit. "That's it sweetie, say my name." His voice practically vibrated in his chest, the praise making you clench around the fingers, earning a soft sound of his own pleasure from him. You could feel how this was affecting him against your back. His pants tight from his cock straining the seam.

You couldn't take it anymore, the feeling of him overwhelmed you. Your body clenched around his hand harder, pulling him closer as his thumb pressed against your clit, the friction much needed as your body tensed, a soft cry of pleasure erupting from your throat as you arched back against his chest.

Gently he pulled his fingers from you and to his lips as he tasted you. A low sound rumbled in his throat at your taste. "You always taste incredible, kitten." He said, his hands wrapping around you again, pulling you close as he nuzzled into your neck.

Your heart pounded, body craving more. You figured he didn't want to push you, considering tonight's events, wanting to focus on what you needed. But what you needed was him. You moved a hand behind you, finding the bulge that had been growing against your back since his touches began. He inhaled a sharp breath, slightly tensing before a soft chuckle tickled your ear. "Are you sure you aren't too tired? Tonight is about you." He said but didn't pull your hand away as you palmed him through his pants making him groan. You turned your body, facing him as you kept one hand on him, feeling him twitch under your hand and the other curled in his hair again. Your lips brushed against his.

"The only thing I want tonight is you." You breathed against his lips before kissing him. In an instant his hands were on you again, his body over you as he returned the kiss. It was slow, passionate. Usually his kisses were rough, fast. But tonight was different. Tonight he could have lost you. And it would have been his fault. He felt emotions he had never felt before as he moved your hands gently away from him, holding your wrists loosely with one hand as he pulled your pants down with the other. You helped kick them off once they got low enough. Pulling back from the kiss as you looked up at him.

After a few more minutes, touches and kisses, his own pants were discarded. He moved your legs onto his shoulders as your body was pulled down the bed, closer to him as he teased your entrance with his cock. You both moaned, shivering at the feeling as you looked up at him. You didn't need to beg, not tonight. He needed it just as much as you.

You felt him enter you, inch by inch as he stretched you. You felt every nerve in your body shoot with that sweet feeling. The stretch of his cock made your mouth open in a needy cry. His eyes watching your face, your reaction to him. It never grew old, seeing you shake in pleasure before he even began. He turned his head, leaving kisses on your calf and knee as his grip tightened around your thighs.

As he began to move your eyes closed, consumed by the pleasure of him. "I wish I could stay like this forever." You moaned, not even thinking as you said it. You didn't care, he felt too good and honestly, your words held truth. He chuckled slightly, the sound strained as he groaned in pleasure as you clenched around him. You felt him twitch inside you at your words, his thrusts getting slightly rougher.

"Keep talking like that kitten and I just might." He said, his voice rough as he lifted your hips slightly, thrusting down into you deeper. You cried out, hands moving to claw the bedsheets. "Seeing you moan under me, all needy. So wet and desperate for me. All mine." He purred as his thrusts got more irregular. Your heart pounded as you heard his words, your mind racing with thoughts and imagery that nearly pushed you over the edge.

His hand moved between your thighs, brushing against your clit again as he kissed your leg again, looking down at you. A thin layer of sweat was on his forehead, his hair clinging to the area. His face was blushed, his eyes glossy and lips parted and swollen. You looked up at him, taking in the sight of him.

You felt him release deep inside you, the feeling sent you over the edge as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. The sound of heavy breath filled the room as he slowly pulled out, your legs feeling numb as he gently laid them down as he climbed back beside you, pulling you into his arms.

His kisses peppered your skin, his hands held you close as he felt you relax against his chest. After a while he would help clean you up again, but for now he wanted to cherish this time with you. There was no rush. And tomorrow? Tomorrow was reserved for him to pamper you no matter what you wanted. He felt guilty for letting what happened happen tonight. He would never tell you, he knew you would know from the extra displays of gifts and affection. But nonetheless, he vowed to never let anything like that happen ever again.

No matter what. 

[docile-dove]

Illusion of control

Tw: Manipulation, gentle dom, psychological control, power play, brainwashing, stalking, smut idk

You think you're in charge.

He lets you speak first during arguments, lets you set the pace when you go out together. You even think it was your idea to move in. It makes you feel strong, clever and independent.

He watches you with soft eyes, nodding attentively, even when you're wrong. "Of course, baby. Whatever you say," he murmurs, kissing the crown of your head like you're his delicate little pet.

But behind that sweet, sleepy smile is a mind ten moves ahead. He suggested your favorite brand of shampoo before you even told him you liked it. He always texts just as you're thinking of him and when you bring up something private from weeks ago, he's already taken care of it.

You joke about him being psychic. He laughs along. You don’t know he’s reading your messages. Or that your friends don’t text you back because he made sure they wouldn’t.

You pace the apartment one night, annoyed about something— some minor thing he “forgot” and he just leans on the doorframe, amused. Watching you vent, eyes shining like you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

"I don't know why you're smiling" you snap.

"I just love seeing you like this." he says warmly. "So full of passion. It’s... adorable." You think you've won when he apologizes. When he lets you sleep on the couch and tucks a blanket over you gently, as if you're punishing him.

But he never minds losing battles. Because you never notice he's already won the war. He has your passwords, your schedule, your routine memorized.

He made you dependent, gently. A new job near his place. Friends who slowly faded. A social circle that always included him— always revolved around him.

And when you cry in his arms, convinced that he's the only one who truly understands you, he strokes your back and whispers, "I’m just lucky to have you." He means it.

You really believe this is your idea.

That you’re free.

That you chose him.

And he’ll never take that illusion away. Because chains are lighter when you don’t even know you’re wearing them.

You're laughing over iced coffees with your friend at a café one afternoon. He sits a few tables away, pretending to scroll through his phone, letting you have your space. Like the "trusting" boyfriend he is.

Your friend raises a brow. “So… everything’s still good with you two?”

You grin, leaning in like you're about to share a juicy secret.

“Good? Please. I’ve trained him.” You laugh, tossing your hair back. “He’s so soft for me. I tell him to jump, and he’s already mid-air. He does whatever i ask him to do.” You grin feeling proud and holding your head up high.

Your friend chuckles. “Damn. What’s your secret?”

You sip your drink with a smug smile. “Simple. I don’t let him control the narrative. I set the rules. Like, even in bed? He thinks he’s taking the lead, but he’s only doing what I let him. I’m totally in charge.” (Yeah right, totally)

Across the café, his fingers still on his phone, but his eyes—those sharp, amused eyes—lift to you. He doesn't call this stalking, he's just keeping an eye on you.. without your permission or notice.

He's watching. He hears every word and he smiles. Just that quiet, indulgent smirk, like he’s listening to a child playing pretend. Like he's watching you flit around in a pretty little cage you decorated yourself, flexing about it to your friend.

Big enough to feel like freedom, padded in soft illusions. A cage with your name on the door, because you wrote it there and forgot it was his idea.

He loves when you say things like this. Loves how passionately you believe them. That you think you tamed him. That you think you made him this way. That you're in "control".

He watches you giggle with your friend and leans back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the backrest.

Later that night, when you’re straddling him, teasing, whispering filthy things with that same cocky grin, he lets you take what you think you want. Lets you ride out your fantasy. He grips your hips just enough to make you feel powerful, while guiding every movement without you realizing.

Even if you're on top of him, he's the one moving your hips up and down. You just take it like he's helping you ride him, nothing more. He grips your neck and pulls your face closer to his, kissing you while you're moaning and whimpering.

"Look at you..being so good for me" He says while squeezing your neck gently. "Are your legs getting tired darling?"

"N...no.." You lift your hips up and down on his cock, panting softly. "I..I can keep going.." You struggle as pleasure takes over your body.

"Mm..I can see that." He rocks his hips up towards you to meet your thrusts. You throw your head back as he moves faster, trying to keep yourself in control and biting your lip hard to not scream. He puts both his hands on your hips, ramming you on him and coaxing you smoothly.

"You wanted this, I'm just helping you.. still following what you told me, love, nothing more."

When you collapse against his chest, breathless, he strokes your hair and murmurs, “You’re incredible. You did so well for me baby..”

He’s proud of you for playing the role of top so well. You drift off to sleep, curling in his arms, limbs tangled and lips parted in exhaustion, he watches you like a predator watching a bunny, trusting him so easily.

He feels like he's giving you freedom, letting you do and act how you want. Not out of mercy. Just to see how long you’ll run before you realize you're still in his jaws.

He plans to capture you completely. Soon enough. No need to rush, this is the thing with bunnies, it's necessary to be patient them. They get frightened so easily. It's better to lure them out and make them vulnerable first, to fully enjoy breaking them once they trust you.

You start watching for it.

The patterns. You begin to notice how you rarely choose your own meals anymore— how he always “suggests” something he knows you’ll enjoy before the waiter even arrives, so by the time the question is asked, it doesn’t feel like a choice at all.

You see how he’ll never forbid you from going out, but always gently encourages you to stay — offering small reasons, subtle guilt, the ghost of sadness in his smile that makes you feel selfish when you pull away.

“You’re free, love,” he always says. “I’d never want to trap or.. suffocate you.”

And yet, every decision you make feels like one he would’ve made anyway. Every deviation from his preferences tastes like disobedience.

Every act of defiance feels like betrayal.

One night, you bring it up while curled beside him on the couch, half-wrapped in a blanket, his hand absently stroking your hair.

The words spill out like a joke, too soft to be a challenge, too careful to sound like doubt. “Do you ever… want to force me to do things?”

There’s a pause.

You feel the air shift. His hand stills for a moment on your hair before continuing its gentle rhythm, and when he speaks, it’s in the same soothing voice he uses when you're trembling from nightmares.

“Force you?” he repeats, as though the idea is foreign — absurd.

You nod slowly. “You’re stronger than me. You could, if you wanted. I mean… you could pick me up and carry me anywhere. Make me do anything you want..” (Dont give him ideas 😟)

He says nothing at first. Then, without a word, he pulls away slightly, just enough to look down at you. Assessing.

“Yes,” he says at last. “I could.”

The admission hangs in the air between you like smoke. He shifts, and in one smooth motion, he brings you into his lap—not roughly, not with force, but with the kind of strength that doesn’t ask for permission because it doesn’t need to.

His hands settle on your hips, grounding you, holding you still. You feel the strength in his fingers–the unspoken potential for violence resting just beneath the surface.

You squeeze your thighs together feeling flustered at the sudden shift, even if he looks like he could snap you in two. You didn't want to like this at all, uhm, you don't! Ofcourse you don't, you couldn't, you're supposed to be in control here.

“I could drag you wherever I want,” he murmurs, pressing his lips softly to your jaw. “I could make you scream for me, cry, beg. I could break you down and build you back up in my image, and you know what, baby?”

His voice drops to a whisper, so tender it almost sounds like affection.

“You’d still thank me for it.” You tremble — not from fear, not exactly. Something elsw. A bone-deep understanding that the only reason you’re safe is because he allows you to be.

“Maybe I wouldn't be too forceful” he continues, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Because I don’t need to force you. That’s the beauty of it. I guide. I coax. I offer… suggestions.”

He smiles, and it’s not cruel— not overtly. But it’s dangerous, the kind of smile you’d see on a predator who doesn’t need to chase because it already knows its prey has nowhere to run.

“I let you feel powerful,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Because I love watching you think you’re free.”

And it clicks.

It slams into you like cold water, like the final piece of a puzzle you didn’t realize you’d been building. All the little choices you thought were yours.

The friends who drifted away. The routines that shifted. The diet changes, the wardrobe tweaks, the hobbies you abandoned and the ones you picked up— all of them traceable, in hindsight, to him.

You look into his eyes and realize he never needed to cage you because he built the world around you so carefully, so sweetly, that you decorated your own cage— and thanked him for making it.

And now?

Now, he just smiles as he holds you gently in his arms, stroking your head and back like you’re his precious pet.

And you are.

Because the cruelest part of all is that he doesn’t need to be cruel.

He’s already won.

(May this love find me, ughh intelligent ppl goddamn)

[samsblades]

✶ spring, honey, forest, etc. — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, sappy!reader, fluff, just tooth rotting fluff and a happy sam, unedited, 1K words. for liane's 500 followers event ! inspired by this moodboard <333 @chevroletdean congrats !!

summary : you can't help but compare sam to sweet and beautiful things like spring, honey, and forests.

"sam?" his name leaves your lips like a spring breeze, soft and warm and most definitely in love.

"yeah, honey?"

sweet like honey, thick like honey, golden like honey. his lips don't really taste like honey, but sometimes you think that they do. there's honey in his eyes too, when the sun hits them right. and from this close, you can see all the details. that honey gold, sunflower yellow, woody hazel, and greens that can’t decide whether they're mossy or blue-ish like the sea. right now, as your own eyes soak his up in a morning so blissful that it's almost ridiculous, you decide for them. mossy green it is.

you honestly just said his name because you like the way it feels when it rolls over your tongue and slips out between barely parted lips. but now you actually have something to say to him, voice hushed to match the quiet of the early morning.

"your eyes are like springtime," you tell him, lips curled up into a smile that makes him grin back without even noticing. then you hum and shake your head, cotton pillow case rubbing against your cheek, "mm… wait, no. no, they're like a forest. like trees and moss and pretty rocks."

his eyebrows raise but his smile stays bright. "pretty rocks?" he parrots, trying to tease but only sounding like he could properly swoon.

"yeah. or crystals, i guess. green crystals. sunny yellow ones too," you amend. then you ramble on. "but i like when your eyes look more brown, too. or blue. or anything at all, cuz they're yours and that means i'll always love them." he looks like he has no idea at all what to say to that. your voice quiets, "am i being too sappy?"

"no," he murmurs, his response immediate and sure. "no, i just… just have never had anyone that talks to me the way you do. but i love you. love the way you talk, too."

"good," you settle easily, wondering if your eyes resemble honey in any way just for how sweetly they look at him.

"i love your eyes too," he says, almost surprising you when you think silence is falling back over you like another silky sheet atop the first.

"yeah?" you ask, voice whispery and alight with a sweet hope that's a little silly because there's no need for it. of course he loves your eyes. he loves your all.

"of course," he affirms, "they're so pretty. and… and i feel better when i see them. safer."

and then it feels like nothing bad could ever happen, or at least like nothing in the world would ever dare interrupt something so tender. safer. if something as simple as the sight of your eyes makes him feel safer, you're sure that you've achieved the best thing in life that you ever could. you've done your job, made it to where you want to be, just knowing that. it's like he's telling you that no one could claim that you don't love him without being a complete liar.

it's like he's saying 'i know you love me. i don't doubt it, not anymore. your eyes are my safe place. your love is my safe place.' and that's all you could ever ask for.

"that makes me really happy," you tell him.

"you make me really happy," he says, no need to search for the right words to say. he knows that one without having to think for a moment. and you're blessed to know it too. there's evidence in the curve of his lips and glimpse of his teeth and pretty wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. even in those swirling irises, brighter with the gift of joy that you've given him. you see yourself in them, reflected in those deep pupils and shining just as bright.

[lqveharrington]

Timeless | T.B.

summary: tom said that in every timeline, you would find and love each other

pairing: all tom blyth characters above (plus alex) x fem!reader

includes: FLUFF, kissing, allusions of sex mentions of killing, threats, teasing

a/n: i just love me some tom blyth 🩷 also, all the other universes mentioned are the ones connected with my own writing for them, so see if you can spot the similarities between coryo and billy’s parts 😉

Ever since you began to date Tom, you've felt more love than you have in years. He was the kindest, most caring, and protective man you have ever met. He made sure every single interaction wasn't crossing any boundaries — not wanting to make you uncomfortable — and he made every interview and press conference never spoke badly about. It was all so courteous that it didn't take long until he decided to put a ring on it — hiding the engagement until you both posted wedding photos for your anniversary.

"It's your day off, stop scrolling through Instagram comments." You set down the cups of hot chocolate on the coffee table before taking away his phone, hiding it away in the drawer. He raised his brow as his hand found the curve of your hip, tugging you to sit beside him. "I'm taking away your phone privileges for the rest of the day."

"A day off with my wife if I stay away from the internet?” He tapped his chin in thought as his free hand went under your calves, pulling yours legs over his lap. “I think I like that idea, Mrs Blyth.”

His accent nearly made you swoon. You loved him for who he was, and the additional accent was a bonus you got lucky with.

You would never get tired of how kind Tom was to you — even after two years of dating, one year of engagement, and one year of marriage — you still were head over heels for him.

Meeting his iridescent blue eyes, you lean in for a proper kiss and smile when he pulls you closer. Tom tilts your head up to his with a finger, kissing you with the same passion he always used. You follow suit and only separate in surprise when he nips at your bottom lip.

"Rude much." You giggle and rest your head on the cushion behind you, hand coming up to touch your lip. “Such a tease, Blyth, such a tease.”

"It’s not my fault you’re so irresistible." Tom took your hand away from your face and began to individually kiss each and every finger, slowly moving higher and higher until he was back to your lips. “Would kissing you make you feel better?”

You pretend to think about it for a second, holding back a smile when you see him impatiently waiting for you to say yes. But the second he heard the beginning syllable of the word, he cupped your face with both hands and met your lips, enjoying your short yelp of surprise.

Tom pressed short kisses to your lips and smiled when you pressed a hand against the left side of his chest. He knew exactly what you were listening for, you did this every time you felt so much love from him.

When he finally pulls away, he glances down at your lips and smirks when he realizes that your lips were a shade deeper than they were earlier. He thumbed your cheek and tucked a piece hair behind your ear, kissing your cheek.

“You know what I’m thinking of?” He murmured, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder.

You shrug and look up, “What are you thinking of, Tom Keir Blyth?”

He rolled his eyes at the full name and kissed you silly again before speaking, hiding another smirk from your dazed look before you shook it off. "I think we would find each other in every universe. Fall in love just like we are now."

You hum and play with his sweater, thinking about the possibility. Even if you did exist in different universes, the chances of finding each other in every lifetime was slim, maybe even zero. But your love for one another was a flame — a magnetic force that always attracted.

After a few beats of silence, you finally say something in regard to the thought with a benevolent smile, wedding and engagement ring shining from the sunlight hitting it.

"I think so too."

“Hey, how was— What’s that for?” You start to ask him about his daily ride when you look up and see the bouquet of wildflowers, an array of pinks, blues, and purples. You grin at him and take the flowers from him, fingers gingerly touching the petals while silently questioning him.

Billy grinned back and his hand found its home on the curve of your hip. “Saw em’ by the forest as I was coming back. Figured m'pretty girl deserved all the pretty flowers.”

Your cheeks were starting to hurt by how hard he was making you smile. He was so infinitely lovable and you just knew when you got married to him, it would double by millions. He slowly began to thumb your hip and tilted his head down to accommodate your height with how close you were both standing.

“You’re sweet for an ex-outlaw.” You whisper and cling onto the flowers, eyes lighting up in mischief. You pull yourself impossibly closer, your lips dangerously close to his. "You are so in love with me, Bonney.”

“Am I now?” He murmured and noticed the hint of mischief in your eyes, a small smirk gracing his lips.

You went to answer but got cut off when he pressed his lips to yours, your initial shock fading into desire. One of your hands finding its way to his chest, feeling the heartbeat you felt so much love from. But as Billy’s hand slowly traveled south, your brother made the unfortunate decision to enter the living room.

“Didn't you say Billy was— Oh, ew!” Adam’s recoiled and turned around, gagging into his hands. The memory was forever going to scar him. He heard gasping and quick steps away, making him shut his eyes in revulsion. “Why are you touching her like that!”

“Adam—“ You try to speak over him, but he just kept going on about all the different things he would never do when he got older and how your parents would totally freak if they were the ones to walk in. How your dad would kill Billy if he ever saw whatever he was doing to you.

He continued to babble and babble, eyes wide in sickness. “Does pa know he touches you like that? He would have a day with Billy! I—“

“Adam, turn your ass back around and head into the kitchen. We’ll be over in a second.” You clamped a hand over his mouth, voice strict and eyes annoyed. Adam nodded swiftly in horror and quickly made his way back into the kitchen, wincing when you shouted again. “And you don’t say a word!”

You turn back around to find Billy standing there with the bouquet, his brows raised in full amusement. He sent you a wink — which you rolled your eyes to before approaching him and his smug face.

“William Bonney.” You stood in front of him and crossed your arms, tapping your foot on the wooden floor like a mother.

He tilted his head to the side and handed you the bouquet again, grinning when you snatch them out of his hands. Billy crossed his own arms — noticing your eyes drift down to his exposed arms. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.”

You scowl and yelp when he pulls you in his arms. Looking up at him, you push a finger to his chest and reprimand him. “Pull a stunt like that again and our shooting lessons will be turned against you.”

“I didn’t think he would walk in here, sweetheart.” He buried his head into your neck and pressed soft kisses to your neck. "I'm sorry,"

“In every universe, I’m sure someone would’ve walked through those doors, Billy.” You mumble and accept his kisses, running your free hand through his brown hair. "Trust me."

Knock Knock Knock

“Come in.” Coriolanus' voice rang out in his office. In the few seconds the door open and shut, he didn't hear the person announce who they were, his jaw ticking in annoyance. He looked up from his paperwork to maybe see an Avox until they softened at the sight of you. You were in the dress he just bought you, making him smirk in satisfaction.

“I brought lunch.” You smile and move to place the tray down on the side table by the small library in the room. "You didn't come down for lunch and I was getting worried."

Coriolanus sighed and ran his fingers through his blonde hair for what seemed like the nth time in one hour. “I needed to finish reading all the paperwork the Districts mailed earlier and I couldn't just discard it in the middle of completion. Even if it's all complaints." His piercing eyes watched as you grabbed a plate and handed it to him before you pulled yourself to sit on top of his desk, careful not to disturb the organized mess of papers. "How are the twins' studies?"

You crossed your legs and play with your rose necklace, watching the white snow coat the trees and ground outside. “Their governesses said they are doing exceptionally well today. Celine’s working on her long division and Lio is working on his poetry; which, by the way, is about you."

He hummed and took a bite out of the steak, his free hand finding your knee and thumbing the skin there. Coriolanus looked over your face, watching you mess with the necklace he got you all those years ago. Even after he offered to buy a new one, you refused to let go of the old one. It was your favorite thing he ever gave you.

Well, besides Celine and Aurelio of course.

"They'll be as smart as their mother in a few years." He glanced over at you, raising his brows when you shake your head, pearly whites peeking through in doubt. "What? You and I were practically tied for the Plinth prize before they changed the stupid rules." You still gave him an unimpressed look. "Have I ever lied to you?"

Your soft smile falters and your eyes darken as old memories resurface. “You really want me to answer that?”

You didn't mean to say that out loud — regretting it instantly and internally wincing when you saw his own eyes darken to the dark azure you knew all too well.

Coriolanus raised his brows at you and carefully stood, full six feet standing in front of you. He firmly grasped your jaw in his hand and tilted your head up to meet his eyes. You hid all fear away, knowing he wouldn't do anything to hurt you after you reduced him into nothing but a mess after leaving him long ago.

“You really want to ruin my day, beautiful? Because I can make this day worse.” Coriolanus murmured as his lips lightly grazed yours — almost daring you to continue.

“Noted.” You murmur back and earn a quick peck to the lips as a reminder that you solely were his before he removed himself from you. You watched him with careful eyes — almost like you were handling a stray cat — and continued to play with your necklace until you saw the storm clear from his eyes.

"Tigris is coming over tonight to fit us for the annual Christmas gala. She wants more leeway in case Celine hates her dress again." Your finger feels for the intricate details of the necklace as you remember the memory of a screaming five-year-old tugging at the dress her aunt took ages to make.

Coriolanus pursed his lips at the thought and shook his head. It was an absolute mess of a day, but luckily Tigris had made a spare dress for her. He pulled your crossed legs to lay across his lap, hand running up and down the space there without any care about the heels digging into his thighs.

“I thought we had a party to attend to tonight?” He tilted his head back and shut his eyes, still contemplating whether or not to even hold a gala this year.

You could feel his emotions radiating off of him. This time of the year was always bad for him, especially when he was already swamped with so much work. Slowly, you move closer to him until he opened his eyes again to find you sitting right in front of him, legs on either side of his.

“It's just Livia's get together, she won't care.” You murmur as your hands find his tie, tugging it ever so slightly. “Besides, tonight's a night.”

He brought his hands up to you waist and dragged you closer until you were sitting on his lap, eyes darkening once more. It was rare for you two to even have a night once a month, but it seemed like this month was going to have more than one.

"I thought we still had a week left." He rested a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to anything underneath your beautiful dress.

You put a hand on his chest and feel the rhythm of his heart, the one you knew loved you despite every obstacle you both faced. “Tigris is taking them afterwards, she wants bonding time with them.”

“A night it is.” Coriolanus murmured and met your lips, smirking when you let out a noise of surprise when he bites your bottom lip. Separating, he places on last kiss to your lips before helping you stand, adjusting your dress until you were decent. “I have a meeting in five minutes, I’ll come find you later.”

“I’m helping with decorating the manor. Again." You complain and adjust the ends of your hair, making sure they were perfect before adjusting Coriolanus' appearance. "The stupid Avoxes don’t know where the garlands go. They go in the same place they always do.”

“So picky, my love.” Coriolanus stood and placed another kiss to your lips, feeling you smile. He placed a few more kisses until you pulled away and rubbed the lipstick off his lips. “You just have to have your way no matter where you are, yeah?”

“Imagine in a different timeline I never got to decorate our house properly. It would be tragic.”

“Tragic indeed.”

When you went to get Alex from his room, you expected him to be ready to leave and just have a wonderful break from the school. But when you got there, he was still sitting at his desk, reading papers his students wrote. You roll your eyes at the man before knocking on the door frame.

“Alex, you realize today is the last day before winter break, yeah?” You give him a weird look from the doorway to his classroom, leaning against the frame.

“I do.” He flips the paper and reads the back, chuckling to himself at the sentences written down.

“Then what are you grading? They were due Wednesday.” You walked over to him and looked over his shoulder, huffing when you realize the papers were being covered by his frame. You waited a second to see if he even realize you were next to him before calling out his name again. “Alex?”

He looked up to the door only to jump back in surprise to see you standing next to him with an annoyed look. “Yeah?”

“If you don’t answer me properly, I will leave you here and decorate our place on my own—" You try to speak again when he looks down at the paper again, making you smack his shoulder with the back of your hand. “Alex Nilsen!”

Alex jumped again and packed away the papers into his messenger bag, standing to pull on his winter coat. “Sorry, done, I’m done.”

“You’re incorrigible.” You cross your arms and stare at him with an unimpressed look. As you watched the sun begin it's descent down, you didn't realize Alex took the opportunity to sneak behind you and press a kiss to your cheek. "Hey!” You whip your head around and send him a startled look before it softened into a joking pout. “That’s unfair. You didn’t even tell me what you were looking at.”

Alex hummed and let you rest your head on his shoulder, swaying side to side softly. “If you really want to know, I was reading letters my students wrote to you.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, pulling away slightly to meet his eyes properly. “To me?”

“Yes, you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek again and smiled when you gingerly rested your forehead on his cheek. “They love when you come and visit me in the middle of class.” Alex nudged you softly. “Well, that and I stop teaching to talk to you.”

“Surprised you haven’t gotten fired for that yet, Nilsen.” You joke and squeal when he spins you around so your chest was against his, both of you wearing bright smiles.

“Maybe because I’m one of the best English teachers here.” Alex tilted his head to the side and sat down on his desk, letting you slot yourself between his legs. When you scrunched your nose at his comment, he sent you a confused look. “What?”

You shrug and you run your fingers through his hair, the small brown curls soft under your palms. “You have too big of an ego already for me to say.”

“Now you have to tell me.” He took your free hand and traced the lines adorning your palm. He waited for you to say anything, but when you didn’t speak and chose to continue running your fingers through his hair, he became impatient. “Come on.”

“I was going to say that you aren’t wrong. You’re one of the best English teachers in Linfield, Ohio.” You murmured and instantly regretted it when you say his eyes light up and a smirk grace his face. “Alex—“

“Oh, my ego just grew by a million.” He kissed the back of your hand.

“Shut up, I was being nice.” You complain and cover your face before realizing why all his students wrote you letters. “Besides, most of your kids do theater. They all come back to me at the end of the day.”

Alex pauses his teasing, thinking about his roster. “Holy shit, you’re right.”

You laugh softly and move to sit beside him on the desk, lacing your hand with his. You rest your head on his shoulder once more, squeezing his hand before you hear he speak in a much softer, loving tone.

“That may be why they love you so much,” Alex started and thumbed your hand, his warm smile reaching his eyes, crinkling their corners. “But never as much as I love you.”

You perch your chin on his shoulder and smile, blush coating your cheeks “You’re such a sap.”

“That loves you.” He turned his head and pecked your lips over and over and over until you put your hand on his mouth to stop him.

Your eyes brighten with so much love, your smile true to every word you uttered. “Love you too, Nilsen.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[scarletlizzard]

Okay so I saw a tik tok and thought I'd be a cute idea if y/n is a physical touch love language person and after being away from Nat for a while due to missions you finally get some time together and y/n manages to get themself under Nat's shirt.

"You know I could just take my shirt off?"

"No its better this way. Keeps the warmth in."

Y/n just peaking up at Nat through the collar of her shirt and just really a cute fluffy moment that maybe Nat thought wasn't going to be at first, but is also totally okay with her little cuddle monster.

Cuddle Monster

Pairing: natasha x reader

A/N: Thanks for the request anon! Here's a short little something, I hope you like it 😊

Your fingers tap eagerly in your lap as you sit on the couch, waiting for your girlfriend to wall through the door at any minute. It had been much too long since you had seen her and especially too long since you had felt her touch.

You knew what her life was, knew that being away from each other was something you would have to get used to. Natasha loved her job, and you loved that about her, how passionate she was about it. But you don't think you'll ever get used to it. Thankfully, she was going to have a few months off, and the two of you would spend every second of it together.

So you stand from the couch and walk around your shared apartment, not so patiently waiting. It's only a moment later you hear the usual squeak of the front door opening, your girlfriends redhead popping in.

You stop in your tracks and watch as she walks in, closing the door behind her and setting a bag down on the floor, looking more tired than ever.

"Miss me, sweetheart?" Natasha asks with a small smirk on her lips, laughing as you run over to her and wrap your arms around her. She kisses your head and pulls you closer into her warm embrace.

"Every time, Nat.. God, I missed you so much," you pout, wanting to feel closer. Her cheek rubs against your forehead, and the comforting smell of her fills your senses as you breathe in. You pull back to see her tired eyes once again, dark circles underneath. Your hand reaches up to hold her face, thumb rubbing gently just above her cheekbones as you give her a worried look.

"I'm okay, malyshka. I promise," she smiles at you and kisses your hand.

"Let's go lay down, huh? I wanna cuddle," you say softly, and she nods, lifting you up and spinning you around. Her lips meet yours in a gentle kiss as she sets you down on your feet.

Your hand slips into hers, and you lead her to the bedroom. The feeling of her caullesed fingers against yours brings a warmth to your chest. The way she held on tightly, intertwining your fingers. You couldn't get enough of her touch.

When you stop by the bed, Nat raises an eyebrow at the cheeky smile you give her. "What are you-?" She chuckles as your hands move to her hips, sliding up underneath her shirt to feel the soft skin of her body. You feel the muscles in her stomach flex at your cold touch.

You practically see the shine in her green eyes as you remove your hands from her, lifting your sweatshirt over your head. But before she can touch you, your hands are back under her shirt.

"Malyshka..." Nat mutters under her breath, chuckling as your hands stretch out her shirt. Before she can realize what's happening, you've maneuvered yourself underneath the loose material of her shirt.

You sigh at the feeling of your skin against yours, the way you practically melt into her embrace as her arms move to envelope you.

"You know I could just take off my shirt?" She whispers, you see the smirk on her face as you peak your head out from the collar of her shirt.

"No it's better this way.. keeps the warmth in," you sigh again and rest your face against her, nuzzling yourself into her neck, and placing a soft kiss there. Your hands run across her back, up and down her spine, feeling every inch of skin.

Natasha smiles at the feeling and only holds you tighter. She lets her hands do the same, showering your rosey cheeks with kisses.

"You know, when I said we could share clothes, this isn't exactly what I had in mind." You feel a rumble from her chest as she chuckles, and your heart swells. You bite down playfully against her neck and laugh along with her.

"Shut up and hold me," you mumble with a wide smile on your face, loving the physical attention she happily gave you.

"That's all I want, honey," Natasha whispers and sighs happily that she was finally home with you. She loved how touchy you were, how you craved her touch. Nat places a sweet kiss on your forehead as you squeeze her tighter.

"Alright, my little cuddle monster, how about we get changed and climb into bed?" She asks, feeling more at home than ever when she sees the love in your eyes and smile on your lips as you look up to her.

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 7 || The Sweet Moments

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, & lots of fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.3k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE NEXT MORNING, you wake up wrapped in a warm embrace. Snuggled up under a thick blanket, you stir awake and notice that you've got Gojo's arm around your waist.

You don't remember how exactly you got like this but, you're not really complaining. There's sunlight peaking through some nearby curtains, the shine leaving a stripe of light through the room.

Carefully, you raise your hand to rub your eyes as you let out a long yawn. Gojo's light snoring can be heard right behind you but, it's oddly comforting. After a minute or two of fully waking yourself up, you spot your phone on the nearby nightstand.

With no idea how it ended up there, you slowly slide out of Gojo's hold slightly to grab the device. Once it's in your hands, the first notification you see is a deposit of two thousand USD deposited into one of your accounts.

Well, at least Gojo isn't flakey with paying you. A little hum leaves you in reaction to the notification and just as you're about to unlock your phone and tend to other things, Gojo's arm gives your waist a little tug.

You turn your head back to him, still sitting halfway up. He's still asleep but he clearly wants you to come back to him. With that in mind, you turn back and move to put your phone back.

The very second your phone is placed back down, Gojo pulls you, and your back is quickly pressed against his hard chest. "Stop movin'." Gojo groans so lowly that your heart skips a beat and you nearly smile.

His voice was so low, so sleepy, and even a little groggy due to his sleepiness but that only made the sound of it sexy in your eyes. You chuckle at his words and purposefully move, this time to turn around and face him.

It was a little difficult to move in his hold but you manage. Once you're facing him you start admiring his resting face.

He looks so... peaceful. Gojo's skin is so clear that it makes you jealous, his eyelashes are so long and pretty-- coated with a bright white shade that only makes them even more mesmerizing to look at and despite his sleeping, his jawline is as sharp as ever.

Unconsciously, you push your head forward and gently kiss along that sharp jawline of his. You're not sure why you did it but it was as though his perfect looks were tempting you to do so.

At first, Gojo doesn't move. That makes you more comfortable as you continue with your kisses. It's peck after peck, each one softer than the last. None of them wake him up though.

Instead, what actually wakes the man is when your chest presses into his. Like the last time you were with each other, you ended up in his shirt. Gojo slept without one so he feels the warmth of your breasts press into his abs as you start kissing underneath his jaw.

Gojo feels like he is about to lose his mind when he realizes you're kissing on him. "Well, isn't this a pleasant way to wake me up..." He hums, his deep voice startling you and causing you to freeze entirely.

His hand moves to rub on the side of your thigh, "Don't stop," He whispers.

You hesitate but eventually, you start back up again with the kisses. Now, Gojo hums with every other kiss he feels. Even that sounded sexy to you. All while his hand gently caressed your leg. Neither of you understood the comfort you found in your actions but it continues for a few minutes.

A core-throbbing groan leaves Gojo as you get to his neck and suck on his skin softly. The sound is then followed by a little chuckle, "Alright, alright, stop." He requests.

You give him one last peck and then grin, "Why?"

"Someone else is startin' to wake up," Gojo says.

You furrow your brows and pull away from him so that you can look at his face. Gojo shifts so that he can look down at you. "Someone else...?" You question innocently.

Gojo lets out an amused scoff, "How are you so innocent? I don't get it."

"Innocent? I'm not..." You frown for a second before you figure out what he meant, "O-Oh!"

The man smiles at you, "So cute."

"Shut up."

"Come shut me up, pretty girl." He purrs.

You roll your eyes, "We're not doing this, Satoru."

He inches closer to you, "You started thisss."

"I made a mistake."

"A good one."

"Bad one." You correct.

Gojo chuckles sleepily again and gives your thigh a light squeeze. "C'mon just one kiss." He suggests.

"Ew, no." Your face scrunches up, "You haven't even brushed your teeth yet."

"So?"

You scoff, "So, that's nasty, idiot."

"You didn't brush your teeth either...." Gojo argues as he slowly puts his face closer to yours.

"Which is why I don't want to kiss you."

"But I wanna kiss you." He whines, sounding almost like a child.

"Oh well, go brush your teeth first." You say sternly.

Gojo perks up a little, "Then I can have a kiss?"

Taking a second to respond, purposefully building up the man's anticipation before saying, "Maybe."

That's all he needed to hear before he let go of you and rolled out the bed. You chuckle to yourself as you watch him rush to his bathroom. The sound of water and him grabbing his toothbrush can be heard, his eagerness is obvious with the slight clattering you hear.

Slowly, you prop yourself up on one arm and wait on him. You even count how long he takes just to tease him about being so needy when he comes back.

Gojo makes sure to brush his teeth and tongue nice and well as fast as he can. When he's done, you hear him swish some mouthwash into his mouth, an obnoxiously loud gargling noise following-- he wanted to make sure you heard him cleaning his mouth out.

After that, you hear him spit it all back into the sink and then dry his mouth. The water shuts off and Gojo moves to stand in the bathroom doorway, pretty eyes glued to you in his bed.

He flashes you a pearly white smile from across the room, "See? All clean."

You ignore his smile, your eyes dropping to his heavenly body shape. No seriously, with the way the light was shining into the room-- it hit Gojo's body perfectly. He almost looked like an angel standing there. With no shirt, his abs were perfectly revealed to you.

Gojo notices where your gaze has gone and looks down at himself. "Y'know, if you take a picture it'll last longer."

"You're so corny." You say jokingly.

He's still smiling at you, "I'm serious. Here, I'll even pose for ya'." Gojo responds playfully.

You thought he was just joking but when the man suddenly leans his body to the right, resting against the doorframe of his bathroom, you realize he was serious. The crazy part is that he doesn't even look bad. He literally looks like he could be a damn fitness model.

"Okay... you're not feeling this one so what if I..." Gojo trails off as he pushes off the doorframe and turns around. He rolls his shoulders back and all his muscles flex, just for you. He looks over his shoulder at you, "How's this?"

"You look stupid." You lie, knowing damn well that you're simply gawking at the little show he's giving you right now.

"Awh man... Okay okay, how about this?" Gojo turns his body about halfway around, moving to flex the muscles in one of his arms and contorting himself so that he literally looks like a Greek god.

You chuckle at him, "Alright Zeus, I think I get it."

He laughs in return. "Zeus? Ugh, no that's not what I was going for here."

Gojo then moves again. One arm goes up against the doorframe and he moves his other hand down into the pocket of his sweats, tugging the item down a little to reveal his v-line to you. After which, he looks up at you and his gaze is intentionally lustful.

He was... smoldering at you. Gojo was smoldering at you and it was by far the funniest thing you'd ever laid your eyes on.

"What the hell?" You chuckled, "Okay first off, why are you making that face? It's not cute. Secondly..." Your expression sinks a little, "Why is your waist literally more snatched than mine?"

Gojo starts laughing too as he straightens himself up. "Okay, so that's a no on the facial expression... hater..." He pouts, "And if you wanna get your waist like mine then just go to the gym, baby." He advises cheekily.

You blink.

Gojo's quick to clarify his statement, "Not that there's anything wrong with your body now." He sighs, then he bites his bottom lip, "I actually think you're sexy just the way you are."

"Is sexy the only compliment you'll ever have for me...?"

"I-," He sighs. "Beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous. Lovely. Amazing. Appealing. Attractive. Hot. Cute. Outstanding. Phenomenal. Pretty-"

"Okay, you can stop." You say as you laugh at him again.

"Nono, I can keep going actually." Gojo challenges as he starts walking over to you.

"I don't want you to, I think I get it-- you like my body." You say with a big smile on your face.

Gojo makes his way over to the bed and leans over toward you, his hands holding him up over the mattress. "Like might be an understatement." He hums.

"Really?" You ask with raised eyebrows.

One of his hands goes to your legs and he suddenly tugs you across the bed and closer to him. "Yes, really. Are you still unaware of what you do to me, sweetheart?"

"I mean, after that time you came on my face... I think I have an idea." You say, mocking him with a scoff.

Gojo tilts his head, "I could cum just thinking about you, y'know."

Your eyes widen, "Satoru that's gross."

"I have before, actually." He corrects.

"You're so nasty." You say to him.

He only smiles at your words, "I'm just being honest."

"Too honest."

"Can I have that kiss now?" Gojo requests, completely changing the subject.

Your face goes straight. "No."

"What, why? I brushed my teeth!" He urges.

"I didn't brush mine."

"I don't care," Gojo argues with a shrug.

"Well," You raise one arm and push him back a little before turning yourself over and crawling to the other side of the bed to get away from him. "I do."

Gojo groans loudly and reaches for you again, "C'mon it's just one kisssss." He pleads.

His hand nearly grabs your leg but you roll your body away, "It's never just one kiss with you, Satoru." You huff, nearing the opposing edge of the bed.

You feel a dip in the mattress as he props his knee up on it and tries to reach you again. This time, you roll over and accidentally fall off the bed with a thud. Gojo's hand goes to his mouth to stop himself from laughing at you.

"Are you..." He snickers, "Are you okay over there?"

You sigh, "No, I only fell because you wouldn't leave me alone."

"I just wanted a kiss."

"Okay, get one later."

Gojo starts crawling over his bed, his head soon popping up in your line of vision as he peeks over the edge to look at you. "One kiss and then you can go brush your teeth." He suggests.

"You're disgusting." You say to him.

You then stand yourself up and nearly yelp as the man playfully tries to grab at you again. After which, you sprint around the bed and toward the bathroom, having Gojo literally chase you across the room until you get there.

You just barely made it into the bathroom before he caught you, slamming the door in his face and quickly locking it before he could enter. "Something is wrong with you," You huff.

Gojo is heard chuckling at you, "Just let me in."

"No, lemme use the bathroom in peace."

"You don't even have a toothbrush."

For a second, you get quiet. In that time you hear Gojo snickering again and you realize he's just trying to convince you to let him in.

You move to use the toilet and glance at the nearby counter as you do so, quickly spotting a pack of new toothbrushes lying on the counter. A smile graces your face, "Looks like I have a whole pack of 'em." You argue back to Gojo.

A soft thump is heard against the door as Gojo rests his forehead there. "Those aren't for you..." He lies.

"Then who are they for?"

"Uhhhh... I use a different toothbrush for each tooth." He replies.

You're heard laughing while the toilet flushes. "Then why is the pack unopened...?"

"Uhm..." He hums, smiling at the entirety of this conversation before saying, "Y'know, you ask too many questions."

"Do I?"

"Oh look, another one."

"I did that on purpose." You say as you start washing your hands.

Gojo sighs loudly, "I have to pee."

"Liar."

"I'm serioussss I meant to when I first went in there but I never did." He explains. You then hear him toying with the doorknob. "C'mon, let me innn."

You move to grab one of the new toothbrushes and begin brushing your teeth, uttering a quick, "Hold it." before you do so.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The shadow of his body standing outside the door remained for a few minutes while you got yourself situated but he eventually turned and walked away. Followed by that was the sound of his phone as he distracted himself by scrolling through social media.

You cleaned your mouth out and even washed your face with a spare towel, unlocking the bathroom door and only peeking your head out afterward.

Gojo is now sitting on his bed, legs spread, with his phone held down as he scrolls through it. When the door opens, you notice he's nodding his head and smiling to himself. The sound of him humming the chorus of the song Hey Daddy by Usher can be heard and you can't help but giggle at the man.

Gojo realizes he's being watched and pauses his humming, looking from his phone to see you staring at him.

"Are you... listening to Usher right now?"

"No..." He mumbles innocently.

"Really?" You say, an eyebrow-raising. "Cause it sounded like you were humming one of his songs..."

"Hey, it's not my fault the damn thing is all over my for you page..." Gojo says with a sigh.

You smirk, "Well, what are the videos on your for you page...?" You ask with an accusing look in your eyes.

"N-Nothing dirty." Gojo stammers, clearly embarrassed by whatever it is he was watching.

"Then what?" You question further. You then move to open the door and lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms underneath your chest as you look at him.

Gojo glances down at his phone for a second and then back up to you, "Would you believe me if I said I was pretty popular online?" He asks almost shyly.

Both your eyebrows go up in dramatic surprise. Has he seen himself? Of course, you believe him. "Oh my god, are you??" You say playfully, clearly playing dumb with the man.

He scratches the back of his neck, "A bit, yeah."

Your head tilts and your smile is continuous, "Okay, and what does that have to do with the song, Satoru...?"

"Uhm... I get a lot of uh, fan edits..." He mumbles.

Why is he so embarrassed by it? Maybe because he was caught watching them and smiling at them? Either way, the pouty expression on his face and the way those blue eyes of his keep glancing away from you make him absolutely adorable.

"Ohhh, and you like watching them?" You continue to tease.

His shoulders drop and he sighs, "Yeah, I do... Listen, if you had a bunch of people making edits of you, you'd watch them too."

You nod, "Yeah, I would."

Gojo than stands up, "Plus, my... 'fan group' if you will, kinda made that song my... theme? I dunno, I just find it entertaining."

"Fan group or fan girls?"

"It's not just women, sweetheart." He hums, slowly walking toward you.

You smile at him, "Aw, that's actually kinda cool."

"Think so?"

"Yeah," You nod, "But the song choice is uh..." Your eyes widen and you slowly look off to the side.

"Is what?" Gojo questions, seeming almost offended.

"I dunno. It's just an interesting song to make your," You raise your hands to do air-quotation marks. "Theme." You say.

Gojo gestures his hands out in a shrug, "How?"

"Daddy's home? Seriously?"

"Daddy is home." He says and you visibly cringe at him.

Your head is shaking in disapproval, "Never say that again."

Gojo's made his way up to you and he leans down to your eye level, "I can't call myself Daddy?"

"No, it's cringy."

"But the song is catchy and it's true...?"

"True?" You repeat, confused by his claim.

"Yeah, cause' when I walk in all I that wanna hear you say isss..." He sings the song out, trying to get you to finish the lyric for him.

You give him a blank stare, "You'd have to pay me a million dollars to ever refer to you as Daddy."

His head tilts and his smile hasn't disappeared since he got close to you, "Is that a promise?"

"Eh? Are you really gonna pay me a million??"

"If you call me Daddy then, yeah."

You stare at him and he stares at you.

He doesn't look like he's joking.

"You have terrible financial priorities." You say with a scoff.

Gojo chuckles, "Do I?"

"Yes, yes you do."

"I meannnn, you could just call me Daddy for freeeeee." He drags out, slowly inching closer to you.

You raise a hand and palm his face, mushing him back away from you. "I'd rather trip in front of a group of hot people."

"Just one time?" He muffles out from behind your hand.

"No."

"Pleaaaase?" Gojo begs.

Your eyes roll, "No."

"But-"

"No Satoru. Just, no." You say firmly.

Gojo grabs ahold of your wrist and keeps your hand in place as he licks your palm. You flinch and your eyebrows furrow before he moves away from the palm of your hand and starts kissing all over it.

"You're so..." He whispers to you in between kissing your hand, "...mean to me."

"I have a feeling you like me that way." You sigh, watching and not even bothering to try to push him away from his actions.

Gojo kisses across your knuckles and meets your gaze, "Sometimes." He admits.

He then releases your hand and swiftly moves to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you up against him. "Anyways though, I can have my kiss now, right?"

"Thought you had to pee?" You ask, genuinely concerned.

"...I lied." He says with a shrug.

"I knew it."

"Now can I please, please, pleaaaaase have that kiss now?"

You find yourself smiling up at him, "Beg a little more and maybe I'll say yes."

Gojo stares down at you and he snakes another arm around your waist. Then, he leans toward you and his gaze is on your lips, "Please?"

That does it for you. You finally give and and push up on your toes to kiss him. His breath is all minty and you can tell he wasn't playing about cleaning his mouth for you.

Your arms are quick to drape around his neck and surprisingly, Gojo moves to pick you up in his arms to carefully carry you away.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

??? ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[irisintheafterglow]

it's fall so it's basically winter so you know what that means: hockey player!satoru !!!!

it should be a crime to look that stunning after running around with a stick for an hour.

"hey, gorgeous. you come here often?"

"a decade later and you still don't have any game. i can't say i'm surprised," you reply, only to find his grin growing wider. you hope he can't tell how your face feels like it's set on fire or that your brain short-circuited when he looked for you after his game. he's still slightly sweaty coming out of the locker room and it makes your pulse skip. distressingly, he's the only guy you can think of who can undo you with just a hoodie and sweatpants; even your legs were starting to give out a little bit when he got closer. "great game, by the way. do you always strive to piss off the opposing team that much?"

"only when i want to impress someone in the stands," he says in a low tone that sends goosebumps over your arms, even under your sweater. though unexpected, you weren't shocked when he mimed yawning or sleeping after scoring a goal that looked like he was playing against toddlers. when you see him, his eyes are the brightest you've ever seen, shining with pride and something like mischief like he was planning something you had no idea about. "you see how many goals i made?"

"how could i not, with the way you were pointing at me after every one?" his tongue absentmindedly runs over his top lip and it takes all of your will not to stare, not with him this close. on the bleachers, it was deceptively easy to watch the muscles in his legs propel him across the ice. you also got away with staring at his self-assured smirk when suguru gave him a pass that the other team couldn't see coming. most of the time, they never saw him coming. his speed across the ice was nothing like the unsteady marches you saw growing up with him. it gave you a small sense of pride, watching him kick ass and knowing that the winks he sent to your section of seats were reserved only for you.

"just making sure you got the message." he's silent for a moment, his eyes flicking down to your mouth and you swear you see his pupils dilate. you can't tell if your breath picked up first or if he did. at some point, the door to the rink creaks open, and suguru raises his hand in farewell, effectively snapping satoru out of his trance. he regains his composure in a blink, though, and shakes his hair around like a dog after a bath. "you doing anything right now?" you scoff at his bluntness and ignore your brain screaming at you to kiss him and get it over with.

"why, you gonna take me somewhere?"

"i believe my victory calls for a celebratory dinner," he drawls nonchalantly, shrugging his muscular shoulders. "plus, you need to catch me up on what's been happening in figure skating land all these years." every nerve in your body was straining to follow wherever he went, but your ego said otherwise. it can't hurt to play a little bit.

"i don't know; i have an essay due in a few days that i need to grind out." you inhale through your teeth, looking to the side undecidedly.

"essay, shmessay. with your gpa, you can have that done in half an hour." you make a big show out of pretending to think about it and he scoffs in defeat. "c'mon, i was planning on paying for you anyways."

"with what money?"

"a very hefty card that does not have my name on it." figures, he'd stolen his dad's wallet again. after a few more seconds of fake thought, you nod and he breathes a visible sigh of relief.

"satoru?" his shoulder is pressed against yours while you walk through the moonlit parking lot, one hand resting in the crook of his elbow. he was the one who linked your arms together from excitement after you agreed to let him buy you dinner. the dim light reflecting off his jawline in sharp lines and you wanted to run your finger over his skin.

"hmm?"

"is this like, a date-date?" his complexion becomes slightly pinker while he opens the passenger side door for you. the question slips out of your mouth without warning and his head dips down to your eye level when you sit down, his forearm steadying him on the top of the vehicle.

"only if you want it to be." his voice is quiet and careful, very obviously indicating that you were the one deciding how the rest of the night would go. god, he's so good.

"do you want it to be?"

"my jersey number is your birthday. what do you think?" you chuckle softly under your breath, the tiniest okay leaving your lips in understanding. "put on your seatbelt. i'm driving with precious cargo." the door abruptly closes and he makes his way around the car to throw his bag into the trunk. a choked noise of surprise comes from your throat and you flick the side of his head when he slides into the driver's seat. neither of you can stop laughing and you sink into the leather at your back, glancing at satoru only to find him already staring at you.

"that is your worst line, to date," you say lightheartedly, shaking your head in exasperation.

"it's a good thing i'm not using it on anyone else, then."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[nanamimizz-archived]

𝚩𝐔𝐓𝐂𝐇𝚬𝐑𝚬𝐃 𝐓𝚶𝐍𝐆𝐔𝚬. 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝚶𝐍𝚬

“𝐨𝐡, 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞-𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐰𝐬.”

You cannot lie in the presence of The Harmony, the great choir compels you to speak only truth. It does not help that Sunday can break your barbed tongue and leave your pride in pieces.

tags: 3.2k wc // inappropriate work relationships // abuse of power // sacrilegious themes // established dynamics // nsfw // petplay dynamics // bisexual reader// mention of incest// afab reader// // coercion // fingering // mentions of penetration // dacryphilia // mindfuckery // sunday is a FREAK //dead dove do not eat // this is kinda fucked up fr…..damn….

author’s note: happy birthday to my bestest friend 🫶🏼 @prettyboykatsukii - this is late as hell im so sorry pookie. sunday lowkey thinks he jigsaw who's gonna tell him.

When you first come to the Penachony, weathered and panicked the head of the Oak Family - Mr. Sunday was as much of angel as his visage. The halo upon his white hair was like a king's crown to you, it shined in your eyes like scraps of food do for a stray dog.

It's what you were, when you had first met Sunday and he would never consider himself a charitable man before looking into your wet, tearful eyes. You were accepted with much more ease than you thought - given an amicable smile and chilling sound of your name on Sunday's lips as he bade you a farewell. It was clear from that first interaction that your stay was not freely given.

You were put to work, swiftly and decisively as your tasks always where in line with your specialty of technology and hacking . The sword of which you wielded for the IPC, in where you served the Stonehearts to generate more wealth than you ever saw. It's the very sword you used to stab your employer in the back, and the blade that you fell on.

Now you wonder what is colder, the gold of his gaze or the steel of your sword as it pierces your spine?

The present is uncaring in your questions, letting them turn to ash on your tongue as you are brought back to the inescapable problem you are placed before. It's been only a month since you arrival to Penachony, a month where after years of being on the run you have built some semblance of a normal life.

Seeing Mr. Sunday was supposed to be a once in a life time chance, never to be repeated again but here you are. Like a mouse trapped in between the paws of indomitable lion who's skin is stronger than steel. You grip the arms of the chair with enough strength the veins in your hands show through the skin.

"Are you nervous?"

You don't say anything, keeping your gaze on the clean white tile beneath.

"You shouldn't be. You've been a loyal member of The Family," something sharp phases through the gold of his eyes, "like a stray dog that knows how well they have it now. Gratefulness isn't a quality most have these days. Wouldn't you agree?"

The question is heavy and hot with accusation like hot iron. For only a second does your gaze dare to meet his, and once you do it's like you are a deer enraptured by the dazzling lights.

"Yes, Mr.Sunday...I would say so."

Sunday smiles as golden as the sun.

"This most agreeable perspective of yours is why we have become fast friends, no?"

You don’t have many friends - not even during your time at the IPC, but there’s a chill down your spine that makes you agree. Your eyes are downcast and you do not dare to raise them. It's hard not however, no matter how much dread Mr. Sunday inspires in you he attracts your gaze like honey to vermin. Never once could you ignore the luster of beautiful things, divine things - it's the weakness Diamond exploited and you think yourself smarter than to fall for it one more time.

How wrong you are, how utterly foolish.

You feel like you have cotton mouth so you dare not speak, only nodding your head.

"And, it is because of our fast friendship I trust you will most amendable with answering a few of my questions - correct?" He asks you, a certain measure of assurances in his tone that makes you swallow the lump in your throat. You fight to find your voice and succeed, if only just.

"What type of questions-"

"Whichever I deem fit - that seems the most fair, wouldn't you agree? I am the one who allowed you in." Sunday speaks, picking at a nonexistent lint on his perfectly creased pants. It's difficult to come up with what to say in retaliate to that, so you say nothing and bow your head.

"Now, let us begin."

There was a change in the air, you feel like in the way the air brushes against your neck and the ache you feel in your robotic arm. The cold that nips at your nerves and the electricity that zaps at the humidity of your eyes. You have felt this once, just the once. When you had stayed, bearing witness to the Stonehearts delegation on the matter of adding another stone to their priceless collection. You recall Diamond and their brilliance and find that Sunday overshadows the former completely like the moon blocking sun.

"Oh Triple Faced Soul, please sear her tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that she will not be able to fabricate lies and false vows."

Once the words have let his full lips, you wince at the overstimulating pain your eyes are victim too as a rainbow like tinge takes over your vision. There is a heat to your hands and tongue, a ringing in your ears that almost drives you mad.

"I see you still have a glaring incompatibility with the memoria," He frowns as if this is something so greatly inconveniences him and not you, "No matter, that can be remedied in time. It is rather fortunate that I am as patient as I am."

"What did you do to me?" Your voice is thin and face twisted in agony - it's a shame you miss at the cool smile on Sunday's face as he watches how you fail at trying to withstand the beginnings of the trial he aims to put you in through.

"As head of the Oak Family I have been blessed with unique abilities by our aeon. That's not so hard to comprehend is it? After all you've been in the presence of a aeon's power before." He explains calmly, hands folded neatly in his lap as he watches you from his seat at the desk in his room. You blink away involuntary tears and hiss out.

"How did you know about that?"

"About your past? Do you think the Family so welcoming to the point of complacency? I would never turn a blind eye to the details of all those that want to join - lest villains make use of this weakness and rot the wood from within." There's a steeliness to his words that makes you wince like a struck dog and you bow your head even bringing your chin to your chest to acquiesce to his words.

"What are you going to do to me? Going to try to trade me off to the IPC?" You hiss, tasting the salt of your own tears - when did you start to cry? As the ringing is only intensified.

"Maybe, if you fail my test." Came the measured response to your accusation. Through the teary film over your gaze you miss out on the way Sunday's hands tighten on the arms of his chair and the heated glint in his golden eyes. You glaring at him, eyes tinged a violet read with am attempted frown that ends up looking like more of a pout. You are a sight for sore eyes - and Sunday thinks of all the ways he can keep your misty gaze on only him.

"Fine," you say sharply as you hear the ringing turn into the edges of a harmonious choir in your ears. "Begin your fucking trial - ah!"

Strange and ravenous heat sears your tongue, like if you drank coffee straight from the boiling pot than letting it cool in your mug. Sunday as risen from his seat and stands in front of you now. Tall and looming with a displeased look on his face and the feathers by his head ruffled.

"Language." You whimper out an apology, sniffling away the tears that want to fall from the scorching of your tongue. He crosses his arms behind his back and you don't see how tightly his fist in clenched, impeccable white gloves wrinkling.

"The trial is simple. I will ask you questions and you will answer honestly."

You narrow your gaze at him, almost petulantly.

"And if I don't?"

A cool smile graces his handsome face, earrings clinking with the tilting of his head as he looks at you with the visage of utter benevolence, hiding the wickedness beneath the veil - "Then I will punish you for the crime of deceiving The Family."

The truth burns down your throat bitterly as you swallow the threat. The second shoe has dropped, and what a fool you were to think that your labor would be enough to pay off the debt for you have accumulated. Through out all your life you have learned so many lessons and bore the weight of so many lashings - each craved a fact of life into the marrow of your being that you never thought you would forget. That there is no true kindness in this universe, no mattered how glided the lips that utter the promise of salvation - you will never have it without paying with something of your own.

"So what? Do you want me to spill my guts out to you now?" Sunday answers your question with a elegant quirk of his lips before his eyes turn focused and narrowed.

"In a sense," He turns to look at the table where strewed across the appropriate oak wood where files - somewhere on them you know your name is on there, written in more blood than ink. “We both know that the IPC circles Penachony like a predator does it’s prey. I merely wish to be insured of your loyalty to The Family and know what is you want from this place.”

(The dove turns, beak and talons sharpening into that of a raptor before you and the choir sings louder in your skull.)

“Now….WHAT DID YOU COME TO SEEK IN PENACHONY?”

The ringing makes your skull shake in your skin and your teeth grind against each other so hard you can hear one tooth crack. The rainbow tinge to your vision swirls and you feel it, the overpowering presence of a aeon - Xipe, The Harmony is here. Here in this room, where you are pinned beneath their lidded gaze you cannot stop the words that spill from your lips as more salty tears and snot run down your face.

“I…wanted…to escape -“ You gasp out, each word like acidic bile on your lips as you gasp. The choir only grows, louder and louder and you wonder if you are going to bleed from your ears at this rate.

“ESCAPE FROM WHAT?” You hear his voice, sterner than it was before - no longer doused in pleasantries and platitudes. Your head aches and throbs, and you feel like you are going to vomit as you stutter out your honest answer.

“From the IPC -“you stop to sob and your vision fizzes like film being burnt, “Didn’t want to belong to them anymore.” The memoria in the air, in the room you are in swirls in your head and you see them - the visions of your childhood, of when you were poor but free and not chained to the desk where you slaved away for hours and days and months and years. The visage makes you ache, and you know you are crying in the terrible ugly way that makes you feel too vulnerable.

The swirling rainbow in your eyes comes to a halt, the choir softens it’s singing and the pain in your head eases. It’s a hum now and the Xipe’s eyes which were barely open, close shut as before. THEIR presence is gone, no longer in the room.

All that is left is you and Sunday.

You feel something touch your face, blearily eyes blink to focus and you don’t realize it but it is Sunday - staining his gloves with the salt of your tears as he gazes upon your ruined face.

“You want to be loved. That is why you left isn’t it?” He asks and your lip trembles when the realization hits you. He knows - he saw the same swirling visions of a life you lost, one where you had a family and a name and a home. He saw that you lost it and in the labyrinth of grief you fell prey to the lies of the deceiver like so many do. You wonder if Sunday pities you, Sunday wonders if you can tell how much he covets you now - more than ever.

His thumb rubs away a tear streak and his eyes - golden like the moon on your home planet glow hot.

“You have passed my trial, and for that you have earned a reward for your endurance. Would you like that?” Sunday asks and you nod limply. You would take anything after that, anything would be better than being a tortured by an aeon. There is a gentleness in how he is handling you now, even going as far as to cup you chin in his palm like you are worth the delicate care. Like you are something to treasure. It feels nice, you lean into his touch blissfully.

“Words. I need words.” Sunday does not falter, even as his heart tightness as the sight of your obedience leaves him wanting.

“Yes. Yes please - anything after that.” The words are stumbling out your mouth and there is a haze in your eyes that makes something in him stir at your desperation. He pulls his hand away and you whine like a dog not yet done being caressed. You are silenced by the words he commands of you.

“Remove your pants.” Your hands are shaky but you obey, like a mutt being taught a new trick. You only manage to undo them, and bringing them down to a little past your knees before Sunday touches you. He still as the gloves on - now wrinkled and stain with your tears from where he had cradled your face with the tenderness of a lover. The gentle caress had been enough to excite you, it’s been years since you have been touched to softly, so gently - you had forgotten what it felt like. His hand goes to your thigh and squeezes the flesh with his thumb rubbing at it softly when he feels you tense beneath him.

“Be at ease,” his voice is melodious next to your ear as he brings his lips to your cheek. “Take your reward with grace, and keep behaving - you might find a beautiful song in your future. I know well how much you enjoy music.” Beautiful white hair and emerald eyes appear in your mind and you don't miss out on his amused huff at the flush on your face at the thought.

Whatever you were about to say dies on your lips as you moan lowly at the feeling of his fingers pressing against your clothed cunt. Just the feeling of them is enough to make you fidget - body still on overdrive from before and in return you are earned a hand grasping your thigh and pinning you in place beneath him.

“Take your reward. I am not fond of repeating myself.” He orders you, tone sterner than before and you hear him make the clicking sound of pity as he takes in how a merely caress is enough to make you tremble. He keeps petting you, with gentle and even strokes as you moan his name softly - until you feel how your cunt soaks through your underwear enough that Sunday can see the shape of your clit. You whine when you feel his thumb press against it and spread your legs for him without being told to when you feel the circles he rubs into it.

“Well done, good pet. I much prefer you like this.” He utters, transfixed and focus on the wet look of pleasure on your messy face. Your mouth drops open and any hint of that harden criminal that you are falls apart exposing yourself to how desperate you are. Sunday can see the way you shudder at his praise than his touches and he rewards you by pulling your underwear to the side and exposing your center to the cold air of his office. You whine but he hushes you, and slides his fingers down the mound of tacky curls at your pubic bone and slips a still gloved finger inside of you.

You keen and it reverbs in his office like an opera house.

“Noisy thing you are - you’ll ruin my gloves.” Sunday speaks but you are not listening, eyes cast down to where his finger disappears inside of you and staining the white satin blend of his gloves a dark gray with your slick. Your hands grip at the arms of the chair, your metal hand making the wood creak and dent as he slips in another finger inside, going in deep to press against the bundle of nerves at your upper wall. You mewl his name, the polite honorific of mister in front of it like always makes the tent in his pants more obvious to you as you keep your gaze on his bulge. You flutter around his fingers the longer you stare it and your mind wanders with all sorts of dazed and lustful thoughts.

Would his cock be as beautiful as the rest of him? Would flush the same way his ears are right now? How would it feel inside of you - oh, you want it inside you so badly. Even more so you want to watch it bob against his stomach with you inside of him, flushed and leaking against his stomach as you service Mr. Sunday for letting you stay, for being so kind to you -

You cum at that final thought, gasping his name and letting your fist hit the side of the chair weakly as your body coils around the pleasure flowing between your thighs and down onto your seat. Your body feels lax and weightless as you slump into the chair, looking at him with a hazy look on your face. Sunday looks at you with what is your approximation of tenderness and vicious satisfaction. He pulls his fingers out, removes his glove and pockets the stained fabric into his coat. His bare hand brushes some hair away from your neck, thumb on your pulse as he nudges his head to a door in the corner of the room.

“You have given me what I wanted and in return I will give you what you want - a place to belong to, one carved solely for you at my side. You are mine now, do you understand?”

The “yes” you say tumbles past your lips before you can think it. You crave it now you think, more than ever. More than you have ever wanted before you. You are riding a high you think, as you pull up your pants and walk past Sunday to go into the door he pointed you out to you.

You don’t think you ever want to sober up, your hand grips the doorknob and you look back at him over your shoulder - eyes still glassy post orgasm and a hungering in your stomach for more of his touch and his command. The door opens and you swallow around your thoughts. The night continues with more pleasure, more touching and Sunday is going to spoil you rotten you think as you lay his stained bed sheets shuddering from the shocks of pleasure in your heightened system.

‘Yes’, you think as you feel something go around your neck and feel the cool press of a tag against your clavicle. ‘This is what you came to Penachony for.’

[sneezypeasy]

The Lightning Scene, How Azula Targeted Katara (of All People), and the Doylist Reason Why That Matters

Mention Zuko's sacrifice for Katara in Sozin's Comet Part 3 as part of a pro-Zutara talking point, and invariably you'll get a Pavlovian response of:

"But Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone."

(Not to be confused with the similar-sounding Pavlovan response, which is "Zuko's sacrifice ain't shit compared to a mouth-watering, strawberry-topped meringue dessert"*, which is actually the only valid counter-argument to how the lightning scene is a bona fide Zutara treasure, but I digress.)

Now, I've talked in depth about how the lightning scene is framed far more romantically than it had any right to be, regardless of how you might interpret the subject on paper; this is an argument which I still stand by 100%. That Zuko would have gotten barbecued for anyone, and that he was at the stage of his arc where his royal kebab-ness represented his final act of redemption, doesn't change the fact that the animators/soundtrack artists decided to pull out all the stops with making this scene hit romantic film tropes bingo by the time it played out on screen.

(I mean, we stan.)

There's also a deeper level to this conundrum, a layer which creeps up on you when you're standing in your kitchen at night, the fridge door open in front of you, your hungry, sleep-deprived brain trying to decide on what to grab for a midnight snack, and quite inexcusably you're struck with the question: Okay, Zuko may indeed have taken the lightning for just anyone, but would Azula have shot the lightning at just anyone?

But there's yet a deeper layer to this question, that I don't recall ever seeing anyone discuss (though if somebody has, mea culpa). And that is: would you have written Zuko taking the lightning for anyone else?

Or in other words, who Zuko would have taken the lightning for is the wrong question to be asking; the question we ought to be asking is who Zuko should have taken the lightning for, instead.

Get your pens out, your Doylist hats on, and turn to page 394. It's time to think like an author for a hot minute.

(If you don't know what I mean by Watsonian vs. Doylist analyses, and/or if you need a refresher course, go have a skim of the first section of this 'ere post and then scoot your ass back to this one.)

So. You're the author. You've written almost the entirety of an animated series (look at you!!) and now you're at the climax, which you've decided is going to be an epic, hero-villain showdown. Classic. Unlike previous battles between these two characters, your hero is going to have a significant advantage in this fight - partly due to his own development as a hero at the height of his strength and moral conviction, and partly because your villain has gone through a bit of a Britney Spears 2007 fiasco, and isn't quite at the top of her game here. If things keep going at this pace, your hero is going to win the fight fairly easily - actually, maybe even too easily. That's okay though, you're a talented writer and you know just what will raise the stakes and give the audience a well-timed "oh shit" moment: you're going to have the villain suddenly switch targets and aim for somebody else. The hero will be thrown off his groove, the villain will gain the upper hand, the turns will have indubitably tabled. Villains playing dirty is the number 1 rule in every villain handbook after all, and each of the last two times your hero's braved this sort of fight he's faced an opponent who ended up fighting dishonourably, so you've got a lovely Rule of Three perfectly lined up for the taking. Impeccable. The warm glow of triumph shines upon you, cherubs sing, your English teachers clap and shed tears of pride. (Except for that one teacher you had in year 8 who hated everybody, but she's a right bitch and we're not talking about her today.)

Now here's the thing: your hero is a hero. Maybe he wasn't always a hero, but he certainly is one now. If the villain goes after an innocent third party, there's basically no-one your hero wouldn't sacrifice himself for. He's a hero! Heroes do be like that, it's kind of their thing. The villain could shoot a bolt of lightning at Bildad the Shuhite, and the only thing that'd stop our boy Redeemed Paladin Bravesoul McGee from shielding his foxy ass is the fact that Bildad the Shuhite has the audacity to exist in a totally different show (disgusten.)

But. You're holding the writer's pen. Minus crossover shenanigans you don't have the licensing or time-travel technology to achieve, you have full control over how this scene plays out. You get to decide which character to target to deliver the greatest emotional impact, the juiciest angst, the most powerful cinematic suspense. You get to decide whose life you'll put at risk, to make this scene the most intense spine-chilling heart-stopper it can possibly be.

This is the climax we're talking about, after all - now is not the time to go easy on the drama.

So.

Do you make the villain target just anyone?

Or do you make the villain target someone the hero cares about?

Perhaps, someone he cares about... a lot?

Maybe even, someone he cares about... more than anybody else?

You are the author. You are the God of this universe. You get to choose.

What would deliver the strongest punch?

If you happen to make the inadvisable decision of browsing through these tropes on TV tropes, aside from wasting the rest of your afternoon (you're welcome), you'll find that the examples listed are littered with threatened and dead love interests, and, well, there's a reason for that. For better or worse, romantic love is often portrayed by authors, and perceived by audiences, as a "true" form of love (often even, "the" true form of love). Which is responsible for the other is a chicken/egg situation, one I'm not going to go into for this post - and while I'm certainly not here to defend this perspective as objectively good, I do think it's worth acknowledging that it not only exists but is culturally rather ubiquitous. (If you're playing the love interest in a story with a hero v. a villain, you might wanna watch your back, is what I'm saying.)

Regardless of whether the vibe you're aiming for is romantic or platonic however, one thing is for certain: if you want maximum oomph, the way to achieve that is by making the villain go after the player whose death would hit the hero the hardest.

And like I said, this doesn't have to be played romantically (although it so often is). There are platonic examples in those trope pages, though it's also important to note that many of the platonic ones do show up in stories where a love interest isn't depicted/available/there's a strong "bromance" element/the hero is low-key ace - and keep in mind too that going that route sometimes runs a related risk of falling into queer-bait territory *coughJohnLockcough*

That said, if there is a canon love-interest available, one who's confessed her love for the hero, one who has since been imprisoned by the villain, one who can easily be written as being at the villain's disposal, and who could quite conveniently be whipped out for a mid-battle surprise round - you might find you have some explaining to do if you choose to wield your authorly powers to have the villain go after... idk, some other sheila instead.

(The fact that this ends up taking the hero out of the fight, and the person he sacrifices himself for subsequently throws herself into the arena risking life and limb to defeat the villain and rescue her saviour, also means the most satisfying way this plays out, narratively speaking, is if both of these characters happen to be the most important person in each other's lives - at least, as of that moment, anyway - but I think this post has gone on long enough, lol)

This is, by and large, a rebuttal post more than anything else, but the tl;dr here is - regardless of whether you want to read the scene as shippy or not, to downplay Zuko's sacrifice for Katara specifically as "not that deep™" because "Zuko would have taken the lightning for anyone anyway", suggests either that a) nobody should be reading into the implications of Katara being chosen as the person nearest and dearest to Zuko, so that putting her life in jeopardy can deliver the most powerful impact possible for an audience you'd bloody well hope are on the edge of their seats during the climax of your story or b) the writers made the inexplicable decision of having the villain threaten the life of... literally who the fuck ever, and ultimately landed on someone who's actually not all that important to the hero in the grand scheme of things - which is a cardinal writing sin if I ever saw one (even disregarding the Choice to then season it with mood lighting and sad violin music, on top of it all), and altogether something I'd be legitimately pissed about if my Zuko-OTP ship paired him with Mai, Sokka, or just about anybody else 😂

Most importantly c) I'm hungry, and I want snacks.

*The Aussies in the fandom will get this one. Everyone else can suffer in united confusion.