#(and job hunting/applying on the side)
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As of 10/18/23:
Now that we've officially marched on the boss and openly declared, I can publicly drop this news that's been several weeks in the making:
The Bloomington, IL, Barnes & Noble is unionizing with the RWDSU.
#adventures at barnes and chernobyl#this is a large reason why i've been so exhausted the past couple of months#working with the RWDSU reps and organizing all my coworkers on top of still doing the grueling work at barnes#(and job hunting/applying on the side)#also i had to put down my cat nick last week and the pain keeps sneaking up on me intermittently#things have just been Real Rough for Angie Bee of late y'all#but there's definitely some lights at the end of the tunnel now and i'm feeling overall better about life#so that's good#state of the angie b.
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me: yeah so we haven't had a meeting about it yet, but I asked my coworkers about past interns and why they left; chances are they won't hire me full time at my internship immediately. However, the chances of having it extended are pretty good, and I like what I'm doing, and they're going to be talking about budget in July. Sure my finances are a little tight but--
my sperm donor (only slightly exaggerated): look for a new job immediately and tell them if they won't hire you full time you're leaving. and no, I don't care if you don't find something in your industry and you have to settle for a job that will make you hate being alive even more than you already do. Also I'm going to ignore how long it took you to find this internship to begin with
me:
#dylawa rambles#dylawa rants#this man gives zero fucks about actually seeing me go into what I fucking trained to do he just wants me to make him money#i am literally sick to my stomach right now thinking about job hunting again#'i want to see you successful and happy' okay why are you still charging me rent then#why are you making job hunting even more of a traumatic experience than it already is#literally said to him 'I don't trust my chances of finding a new job within two months' and his response: 'oh well go work customer service#it took me MONTHS to find just this internship and it's a miracle it's paid at all#it's in a nice office with nice people and i have my own computer and they feed me almost daily!#i'll live another six months in this hellhole if it means I get a guaranteed post-internship job like this#is it the ideal job? absolutely the hell not#the commute sucks i don't have work from home so i can't get away with doing other shit on the side#i feel limited in what the role requires of me vs what I'd like to make#but good fuck it's better than food service or retail#but nooooo he needs me to be his little rent cash cow without him feeling guilty about it#very tempted to bail even if it means I start eating through my savings a little bit#I don't know if I can go through the daily interrogations of 'did you apply? why aren't you hearing back? it's your fault' again#i have somewhere to go but I'm trying to keep it very 'last resort' territory#A) it would make my current work commute twice as long#B) it would require completely burning bridges with my old man bc I'd have to move out in secret#not just because i don't want him to know where the people who are sheltering me live#but also because if he saw that place even if he was willingly letting me move out he'd say 'absolutely not'#because I don't trust him not to do something weird. not necessarily DANGEROUS but. weird.#I want to burn all bridges someday!#but even now that I own my car it's still not the safest course of action#I'm so sick of being stuck dawg!#dylawa vents
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I should really see a therapist (unfortunately im broke with no insurance so I'll just vent in the tags)
#I'm in a studio apartment I can barely afford#and have been applying to other jobs so that this 2nd job can help boost my income#but my dad sent me a link to a job fair and a cheap apartment 2 hours upstate and I know he's trying to help#but it made me break down in tears#mainly because I lived upstate for 2 years and I was miserable up there so even going up to around poughkepsie makes me anxious#he definitely knows how traumatic my time upstate was (panic attacks on a weekly basis#esp with the rise of anti-queer hate crimes)#but what really broke me was the idea of being more than an hour away from my entire support network (my friends) who dont have cars#like I know it's not unusual for ppl to move away or lose touch#but specifically these two have been my threads of sanity lately and have been by my side at my lowest lows and I'm scared of losing them#like sure zoom exists but idk#I was already on edge because of all the job hunting and financial stress#vent
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SUIT JACKET
Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader ↳ part 2 here
Sypnosis: Aaron Hotchner seems to love his suit jacket on you. WARNING: nothing besides a few curses (I think) A/N: not my gif, ctto! This was also sitting on my drafts for almost a year and barely proofread, so I apologize for the errors.
Sunday, March 11, 2:04 AM
"Thanks, unibrow." You grinned drunkenly, smiling at your boss, SSA Aaron Hotchner, as you collapsed in the cab's backseat. His suit jacket kept you cozy and covered like a cocoon while you comfortably giggled at the applied inside joke of his new nickname.
With Penelope's constant peer pressure, your inhibition has reached rock bottom eleven shots, five cocktails, and two whiskey glasses ago. You downed liquor like water, easing your stiff shoulders.
Aaron only stared at you with the same impassive face he had and shut the door before the cold caught you. He hunched in front of the driver's window, "This woman is a federal agent, and if something happens to her, I'll hunt you down. Please, drive her home safely." He straightened back up, casually tapping the vehicle's roof.
The cab took you away only after Aaron snapped a picture of the cab's plate number. He sighed as the vehicle slowly disappeared from his line of sight. He twisted on the balls of his feet, met by his other children, agents drunkenly calling his name.
Tuesday, March 27, 10:14 AM
You scurried out of the elevator, weaving through the sea of agents in the bullpen and then to the conference room where everybody was already settled in.
"So sorry! There was this son of a b—" You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, clenching your fists. Then, you exhaled profoundly with a calm smile at the end. "I got in a car accident. Go on, Pen. Sorry for interrupting." You took a seat between Aaron and JJ.
JJ turned to you, "Are you okay?" Her hand gently landed on one of yours, giving you a worried squeeze.
You gathered a smile and raised a thumb, "Thick skull and strong bones. Nothing can break me, not even this unsub... whoa—" Your eyes widened a bit.
How ironic for your case to be about an unsub who performed a craniotomy on the victims. You smiled awkwardly, the similar tight-lipped smile that Spencer would always plaster on his face.
The other agents coughed a chuckle at your reaction while Penelope continued the debrief with the same horrified look.
Upon listening to the case details, you slowly felt colder, subtly rubbing the sides of your shoulders. You were so caught up in your anger towards the guy that rear-ended you you could've sworn your body was overheating. You left your blazer somewhere and were sure it wasn't in your wrecked car.
"Alright, wheels up in 30," Aaron announced, sending everyone to get out of their seats and grab their go bags and snapping you off your trance in the process.
You rushed to collect your file copy and headed for the door but halted when Aaron called you. You pivoted on your heels, "Yes?"
He was taking off his jacket, handing it to you as soon as it peeled off his body.
"I don't think dry cleaning your suit is part of my job description, Sir." You kidded as you stared at his black jacket.
Aaron rolled his eyes. It was so rare that you had to blink twice to ensure you didn't have a concussion from your minor car accident. "You're cold." He wasn't asking, plainly stating your slight predicament.
Your eyebrows knitted, mouth slightly opened. And as if the universe was mocking you, a sudden draft slapped you in a shiver. You snatched his jacket and mumbled a small thank you.
As you walked out of the conference room, teasing eyes bore holes into your being. Each BAU team member's narrowed brows held you captive, and their loud thoughts rang in your ears. You ignored all of it, though, taming your anxiety with the warmth of Aaron's jacket.
Wednesday, April 13, 1:37 PM
"Garcia, look for old cases with one young boy as a survivor." Aaron started, listing each task that everyone was to complete.
You were so focused on the case that your next movement caught you off guard.
Your back snapped straight from the slap of Minnesota air. It was brief. An officer merely opened and closed the door, but your body was nowhere near as warm as it was a few seconds ago.
The warmth of cotton fabric soon hugged your shoulders, along with the momentary weight of Aaron's hands, before he fully let go of his suit jacket.
He continued talking as if what he had just done was normal or anything close to casualty, "Morgan and Reid, try speaking with the victim's family one more time."
Emily exchanged looks with JJ, conversing silently while you obliviously sipped your coffee.
Friday, May 2, 5:04PM
"Capital O-M-G!" Penelope squealed, drumming on your shoulders as soon as she came close.
"Garcia, breathe," JJ gently placed her hands on Penelope's shoulders, modeling a regular breathing pattern.
Emily gave you a look as she sipped her coffee, which you returned with a shrug. Penelope was ever so eccentric. You've gotten used to it over the years you've been with the team.
"Okay, okay, okay. I'm good. Just that— I was— Ugh! Look!" Penelope shoved her phone in your face.
You saw a blinding blur, forcing out a sarcastic, "Wow! I can definitely see."
Luckily, JJ took it to herself to pull Penelope's phone away from messing up your eyesight and looked at the image plastered on the screen. A smirk immediately covered her lips, "Oh."
"What is it? Let me see—" Emily walked behind JJ. Her jaw dropped not long after. "Anything you want to tell us?" She cooed as she gave you the widest grin she had ever flashed, at least for that morning.
Your eyebrows clashed, and your forehead creased, "Whatever are you on about?"
"You're telling us nothing's happening between you and a guy?" Emily's grin only widened. You wondered how wide it could get, terrifying you in the process.
JJ flipped the phone to your end. The brightness of the screen stung your eyes a bit. "Want to explain this?"
Photo: It looked like the picture was cropped because you saw Derek's arm around you, but he was nowhere to be found in the image. Aaron's jacket was around your shoulders while he was behind you, glaring at Derek's arm.
"What about it?" The confusion was solid in your voice. However, you had a bit of an idea of what the three of them were insinuating.
Penelope stepped closer to you, "Uhuh, sure," she started as she zoomed in on the picture. "You're telling me you can't see Hotch's jacket on your shoulders, let alone Hotch glaring at my chocolate thunder?"
"He let me borrow his jacket because I was cold. Doesn't he always do that with everyone?" You innocently asked, looking at each one of them.
"Still doesn't explain him glaring at Derek." Emily chimed in a teasing tone, wiggling her eyebrows.
Your eyes widened, "You think Hotch was mad at me because I took it? He offered it to me, and I was cold. You think he was just being polite or?"
Penelope rolled her eyes and aimed her fluffy pen at you, "You oblivious profiler! He's jealous!"
"Uh-no," You chuckled.
"You don't believe me? Look at this."
Photo: This photo was older than the first one and might've been your third or fourth year with the BAU team. It seemed like all of you had just ended a case. You were snuggled on the couch on the jet. Aaron was draping his jacket over you.
"Who took that picture?" You queried.
Penelope raised her hand, "I was going to check in on everyone, then the camera spotted it, and I took a screenshot because I couldn't help myself. I was going to tease you about it but forgot for a very, very, very, very long time until I saw that picture from our last team night out." She wiggled her eyebrows, a playful smile on her lips.
"Looks like our boss has a favorite," JJ sang softly, looking at you with a knowing smile.
Emily nudged you, noticing the blush on your face. "You've gotta admit that's very sweet of Hotch. I think he likes you wearing his jacket." She teased, poking your sides.
"He does that to everyone, though," You reasoned. If you recall, he had offered his jacket to many people before.
"Nope, no!" Penelope shook her head vigorously with a tight lip. "He offers it to some but gives it to you."
"We had a case where it was biting cold outside. Hotch offered to help me if I needed a jacket. I said no because of politeness and shit, but he didn't insist. He didn't even offer his jacket. He offered to give me time to return to my room and grab my jacket." Emily grimaced, obviously still holding a grudge regarding the incident.
"I've known Hotch for years. Giving out his jacket was only for emergencies. If it's the only choice he had. We've had cases where a victim was a little too exposed, and his solution was to wrap them with the newspaper he conveniently found." JJ exclaimed, sorting the manila folders on her chest.
You gave it some thought and considered every possibility, but you shook your head. "He's just being nice because he's my boss. Plus, I'm still a bit tense around the team." You straightened yourself, fixing your top.
Emily cackled, "Getting flat-out drunk with us is definitely you still a bit tense around us."
"You know what I mean," You defended, blushing.
The three exchanged looks and shrugged. If you wanted to turn a blind eye, then it was your choice. But they had a perfect theory and tried to test it out.
Aaron was heading to the elevator as you exited the bullpen. The three of them grinned.
"Going for girls night?" Aaron quipped, raising his eyebrows.
JJ frowned, "We were, but she's feeling sick. I think the cold's getting to her." She gave you a pitiful hug.
Your eyes blew wide, jerking your head behind you where the other two stood with maniac grins. You knew what JJ was doing. It didn't take a second for you to figure it out. And as if luck was on their side, the elevator dinged.
You followed their figures as they piled in in the lift. You glared at them, but Emily focused on the man beside you.
You gazed at Aaron and were met with his jacket stretched out to you. Your mouth fell open, unable to breathe.
"It's cold outside this time of night. You'll feel worse if you don't layer up." Aaron cleared his throat, "Take it."
You reached for his jacket so slowly that he took it in himself to wrap it around your shoulders. "Thank you," Your voice quivered, hesitantly stepping inside the elevator.
He followed, standing beside you. You could feel the three devils behind you, preparing yourself for their constant teasing.
Unbeknownst to any of you, Aaron was holding his breath in the hopes that none of you would notice his blushing ears.
Monday, May 16, 8:12PM
The entire day has been a drag. Besides the unsub being disgustingly great at hiding his tracks in the safety of your local area, your stomach had been giving you the worst time of your life.
Later in the evening, in Aaron's orders, everyone was sent home to get some rest and start fresh the next day.
You were thankful. You needed to rest from all the stomach-emptying vomit you did in the restroom. Your acid reflux was having a field day and didn't let you get a breath. You practically lived in the toilet. You even had to call Derek and ask him to put you on speaker so you could contribute to finding the unsub. Luckily, they didn't question it.
Emily retracted away as she exited your hug, "Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride home? We practically live in this building. I don't think they'd mind you leaving your car here for a night."
A warm smile brightened your drained face, "Yes, I'm sure. Thanks for the offer." You bid her one last goodbye before heading to your own car.
Your head was down as the day's exhaustion finally caught up. Your senses were off. You walked as if time stopped. You wondered if you should've taken advantage of Emily's offer.
With your loud thoughts and vulnerable senses, a heart attack almost killed you when a sudden cage of warmth engulfed your body. For a moment, your body wanted to fight, but it didn't take long for you to remember the familiarity of this warmth.
"What took you so long?" His voice was gentle and comforting enough to put you to sleep immediately.
You looked up at Aaron, who refused to unwrap his arms around you, "I didn't know you were waiting. I thought you went home already. Isn't Jack waiting for you? It's movie night."
Aaron smiled, "I'm taking you to the hospital to get checked. Captain Jack's orders."
You couldn't help but smile as well. He held the door for the passenger seat before jumping to the driver's seat. As you watched him go around, you noticed his scent lingered on your shoulders.
Aaron placed his jacket on yours.
"You ought to be careful," A chuckle passed your lips, "The gals are onto you."
"Why?" Aaron looked at you with a confused expression. His face made you giggle. The genuineness of his expression made you wonder his reaction if you had said the same thing two years ago.
A grin glistened on your face, "They say Agent Hotchner has a crush on me." Your voice danced with playfulness.
Aaron copied your grin and shrugged, "I'm surprised they haven't figured it out after all these years." He turned his body to face you, "So? Do you like him back?"
If only the BAU team knew how their unit chief, the SSA Aaron Hotchner, was a lot friskier than they perceived him to be, Aaron wouldn't last a day from all the teasing.
Then you wondered how the BAU team would react if they found out you and Aaron have been dating for the past two years and successfully kept it a secret from everyone except Strauss and Rossi.
Or the number of questions you'd be bombarded with when they learn that you recently moved in together with Aaron and Jack. You knew well enough that the ladies would be interrogating you like a serial killer.
You shrugged, "I heard he's got a fiancée." You fished the necklace well hidden under your shirt. A golden ring band shaped like vines with an oval-cut blue moon diamond dangled on the chain.
"Yeah..." Aaron held your hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it, "You wouldn't want to be in the way of that." He smiled widely, an ever-loving expression you indulged yourself with for the past two years and soon... for a lifetime.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch x you#criminal minds#criminalminds#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch imagine#cm#ssa aaron hotchner#ssa hotchner#fem!reader#x reader#x female reader#character x reader#hotch#aaron hotch fluff
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Firefighter!bakugo pt 2 pt.1 here
a/c: This bakugo is softer because there's no quirks hunting him. This isn't proofread yet, and please consider that english is not my first language.
You didn't call him. He left his number on the card, the company replaced all your burnt furniture and electronics, and after all, you still couldn't look at your new stove without thinking of him. And that you never called him.
Of course, the next time you saw him, it wasn't your fault.
It was a sunny day. A few months had passed, and you were making your way for a new job interview you had pending.
You did the interview pretty well, considering your strike of bad luck. The boss and the executive of the company said that your resume was everything that they were looking for and that gave you a sort of security you hadn't felt for a while.
You were making your way out of the office after hearing the 'we will call you to discuss minor details' when a rare feeling appeared on your stomach, a slight pinch in your guts that didn't felt like it was a stomach problem.
You shook the feeling away and kept walking to the elevator, pressing the button you realized that you were free all afternoon, so you made a quick plan to go for a coffee and a donut. Lately, you were craving sugary things.
Once the elevator's doors closed, the uneasy feeling made his way back to you. You felt that something wasn't right the minute the elevator creaked before going down. The office's company was on the nineteenth floor, and you were almost reaching the thirteen when the movement stopped abruptly.
Suddenly, the light went off too.
You never thought that you would be in a situation like that, so you obviously tried to remain calm, but it didn't work.
Panting, you reached to grab your phone from the back pocket of your jeans. As you were expecting, you had no signal, mostly because you were trapped in a box made of metal.
"Hello?" You said pressing one of the buttons from the panel, the one that got a bell on it. "I'm stuck in the elevator"
No one answered, and your heart started to beat faster and faster. You tried banging on the doors, crossing your fingers that the elevator got stuck on a specific floor and not in between floors.
You considered yourself a calm person, or at least a good pretending something you are clearly not. You were good at faking because you were more afraid of feeling ashamed, but no one was around to see you panicking.
"Help!" You screamed and then waited to hear any noise coming from outside. The silence was overwhelming. "Shit"
You slid your back until your butt hit the ground and started to remember the breathing exercises you learned on a yoga session your friend made you go. Thinking that it will work was a very optimistic thought.
The feeling of your lungs stretching and trying to find the air that was lacking in the elevator was exhausting, closing your eyes, you pushed one of your hands in your chest to apply some presure on it to feel the movement and connect the moves with your brain so it would process that you were actually not dying and still breathing.
Your eyes started to close, and your body started to sweat. Was it the end of it? You got a decent degree, got drunk with your friends many times, and had a good childhood, but still, you wanted to do a lot of things, like learn how to drive, get a dog, start your own business and even make fucking cookies without setting your house on fire, you were so young to die like that.
Thirty minutes later, that felt like an eternity, you started to hear banging and voices from the other side of the elevator. You were skeptical that it was actually help and tried not to feel so excited about it, but then, a ray of light appeared from the darkness.
"I think she's conscious, guys," a voice you've heard before said.
Many hands and bodies started to work in the steel, using saws and jaws to break the door open to get you out of there.
The door cracked after a few minutes, and you were free and ready to never jump in an elevator again.
You were almost falling asleep, and you felt so weak to move, so they carried you out of the elevator and settled you on the floor.
A blonde man put a little flashlight in your eyes and looked at you very focused on his task. The sight wasn't very clear, everything looked very blurred to you. You could only see two shapes that obstructed the sunlight.
"I think she passed out while she was there. I got a faint pulse too" The same voice you heard before echoes in your ears like it was miles away but you could see the red haired man in front of you.
Oh no.
You felt your senses returning in a whiplash. That man, in front of you, was the man that went to the fire in your house and the one that was next to him was the one that went to your brother's home and gave you the box of cookies.
Fuck fuck fuck.
"I'm okay, I swear." You tried to stand in your feet, but a wave of dizziness didn't let you.
"I don't think you are," the red-haired man told you, giggling. "Wait, I know you" he stated in awe.
"Yeah, her face, it feels familiar, right?" The blonde man spoke to the other ignoring completely that you were there.
"She's the one that burned down her kitchen a few months ago"
There he was, taking off his gloves, a drop of sweat in his forehead, and looking as good as the last time you saw him. You cursed yourself in your mind. He was hot, and now after you never called him, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that he hated you.
"Move aside. I'm going to check her vitals. You two can talk with the building manager about his excuse of an elevator. " he spoke lowly to the others, and that volume of timber scratched that unworkable brain of yours.
The two firefighters stood up and patted the shoulder of his friend while he kneeled down in front of you.
You were left alone with him, the guy you turned down.
"Hey, you know I'm very sorry and -" You started to apologize.
"Do you consider yourself claustrophobic?" He interrupted, putting the oximeter in your index finger
"Mhm, I don't think so." You avoided eye contact because his serious facade was something you couldn't bear at the moment.
"Doubtful, why is your heart rate so elevated then?"
You felt how the blood in your system rose to your cheeks. He must have noticed because he lowered his head at the same time that a smug smile appeared on his face.
"I think I got what I deserved, a scare that almost ended up in death," you dramatized while he lifted a finger in front of your eyes with a tiny flashlight following the movements of your pupils. "I think that's the karma acting"
"What do you mean?" He clicked the flashlight off and reajusted himself crouched on his knees.
"You were nice to me, and I never responded" you shrugged.
Bakugo put on a face you couldn't decipher. It was a mix between thinking and not giving a shit about everything.
"Have you tried baking again?" He asked, reverting his glance from nothing to you.
You denied with your head.
"Just looking at the oven freaks me out," you let out a sigh, followed with a shiver when your mind put the memory of that day in your head.
He grinned at your words and you couldn't help the smile that appeared in your face.
"What's so funny?" You tried asking.
"How do you burn your kitchen and end up trapped in an elevator in less than a year?"
You rolled your eyes at him and handed the oximeter to him. He extended his hand to yours, and you dropped the device before his hand reached your hand. The two of you were quick on catching the device before it landed on the floor, but in the process, his hands covered yours.
Bakugo stared at your joined hands for a second before taking his away. You thought that you were the only one who felt attracted like a magnet to him, but the slight pink on the tips of his ears gave him away instantly.
"You know, there's a chance you might have hurt yourself, so we have to take you to the hospital so they can check on you properly," he explained while closing the paramedics bag.
"Great, no coffee and donuts for me, huh?" You muttered under your breath while gaining momentum to stand from your seat.
He helped you to get steady, and then he guided you to the truck.
Before you could jump to one of the seats, he stopped you.
"My shift ends up in like an hour. The doctors would want to check your vitals and see if there is any concussion from when you fainted, well that, and the time you were there without much air... I was wondering if maybe, if you want, I mean...-
"Bakubro, did you ask her out yet?" The red-haired guy appeared from the back of the truck.
Bakugo stared at him like he could burn the man down.
"He was actually doing that," you said, biting your lip and looking back at him. "And I was about to say yes so..."
"Ah man, I'm sorry... Now that I'm here, I remember I left something back there. " he left the scene very quickly.
"You thought I was going to ask you out?" He said with his eyes going straight to his hairline.
A cold shiver ran through your spine from embarrassment.
"Shit, no? I'm, oh my god, this is so...I should've died, " you whined, praying in your mind for a hole in the ground that could swallow you down.
You could feel how your body was burning from the shame. Your face red and you felt your own temperature rising.
"You thought right," he said after a moment, enjoying your suffering. "But I was expecting you to make the first move, I mean after you turned me down"
"Please, stop, I beg you," you cried. "I'll take you out, meet me in the hospital, and I'll take you to wherever you want to go, just stop"
He almost laughed at your suffering. Bakugo thought that you looked so cute when you were ashamed and blushed.
"Nah, this one is on me. You'll have your donuts and coffee after all"
He pushed you, putting his hand in your lower back to get you on the truck.
...
Taglist
@spinninoutwaiting4you @gsyche @hanacheryl @itzjustj-1000 @kiridagremiln @reads-stuff-quietly
Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.
#bakugo x reader#mha x reader#bakugo headcanons#bnha bakugou#my hero academia#bakugo smut#bakugou smut#my hero academy fanfiction#mha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha drabbles#mha fluff#mha bakugou#mha#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#bnha fluff#bnha drabble#bnha x reader#bnha
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Writing Magicians
If you are drafting or deepening a magician character, consider these personality traits and common characteristics of magicians. Your magician doesn't have to be set in stone or have all of these traits.
Intelligent
Magic requires a critical, quick, analytical mind to practice and implement. Must be capable of making difficult decisions.
Good Memory
For memorizing spells, potions ingredient lists, rituals and anatomy of magical creatures.
Creative
Magicians need to adapt existing spells and rituals to the situation
Self-disciplined and focused
Casting a spell or conducting a ritual requires the magicians to have unwavering focus and self-control.
Patient
Magic takes time to practice, especially if it's not a talent that you're born with. You also need patience to calm your human sacrifices down and make those stupider than you understand what's going on.
Highly trained
Mere talent is not enough. Practice - and pain - makes perfect.
Specialist
Magicians will have a spell/an element/a potion they are exceptionally good at
Musical
Many forms of magic involve drumming or chanting, or even singing.
Spiritual
Many forms of magic are linked with religious practices or concepts. Your magician might be heralded as a spiritual saint, or hunted for being a heathen.
Prayers are often a part of magic rituals.
Studious
Magicians are always keen to learn more, expanding their skills range, acquiring news spells, understanding different forms of magic and exploring scientific subjects.
Many magicians will amass books, or sign up for every available online class.
Well-orgnized and Methodical
The best magicians always have information and ingredients at hand and know where to find them.
They prepare thoroughly before rituals and have Plan B,C,D ready
Introvert
Many magicians like quietude and solitude in which they can recharge to practice a new spell in peace.
However, some magicians love social gatherings, maybe even showing off their power.
Ethical
Magic gives a person power, and requires moral judgements to apply this power wisely. You magician protagonist will be ethically challenged, but pull through difficult decisions guided by his good heart.
You magician villains, of course, will fall due to their unethical practice of power.
Sharp Sense
Your magician is likely to have a goos sense of smell/sight/sound, so that they can tell poisons part and catch the exact note of the chant.
Descended from Magicians
Magic is often portrayed as a talent that is passed down generations. It can be of blood (you must have "magical blood", so to speak), or it can be a guarded family secret.
On the flip side, your hero can be the only one with magical talent in a family with no such powers.
Psychic
Although magical and psychic gifts are separate matters, the power of foresight is often considered a branch of magic.
If your hero is a psychic, make sure it has limitations and consequences!
Day Job
Few magicians practice openly. Even if the magician earns money from her practice, she'd want to disguise her identity and pretend to work a more everyday job.
Many modern magicians work in the medical sector; other are employed in scientific, engineering or the arts field.
Pet
Magicians are known for thei close relationships with animals.
This can be a typical pet, or a mythical animal, or perhaps an incarnation of the devil, who knows?
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Game of survival, final hunting...
Pairing: young president! Coriolanus Snow x fem!rebel! reader Summary: After he catches you, he tries to turn you into a lady who can stand by his side. However, you are not that easy to break... after all, a wild animal in a cage is still a dangerous animal. Warning(s): 18+; smut scene; Coriolanus Snow being Coriolanus Snow; blood; mention of dying; Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi @divineidolatry @edb954 @missakward123 @blythlover @leclercsgirlshhs @squidscottjeans @theaaeht @yourmomsbjtch @lovelydoveval @staylowessafe @jeanscremebrulee Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist
One step. Second. Third. Fourth. Keys jingling. The lock is twisted. Then the second one. You hear the door sliding open.
You manage to hold back a hiss as the door to your cell opens and light floods into the small, dark cell, blinding you for a moment. Your eyes, too accustomed to the dark, are watering and blinking rapidly as the light enters through your pupils.
"Rise and shine. I hope you're in a much better mood today." Coriolanus says, placing the tray of food on a small crate. He walks over to you and uncuffs your ankles and wrists from the handcuffs attached to the wall.
You fall into his arms after your aching, tired muscles from spending the night suspended against the cold wall of the cell can no longer hold you.
"I know, little hunter. This didn't make me happy at all. You know I don't like punishing you. But yesterday, you crossed the line. We're in the Capitol, not in the District. You can't cut off the fingers of my peacekeepers and expect not to be punished for it." He explains to you, scolding you like a little child as he gently sets you down on the makeshift bed. He runs a hand through your sweaty hair and reaches for your wrist to wipe away the blood that had flowed from the wound the handcuffs had caused.
"You… despise… them…" You speak in a hoarse voice. You hadn't had water in your mouth since last morning, but you weren't going to submit to him because of it and obediently listen to his lectures. You've been through worse, running away from him.
"True. But they are useful. And maybe you were right to cut off his finger for touching you where he shouldn't have, but it's my job to punish people for desecrating what's mine, not yours. We need to temper your thorns, petal, before I announce to the world that you will be my first lady. Next time, let's try to make it less gruesome, shall we?"
You would snort or roll your eyes if you had enough strength. Instead, you rest your head against the wall and close your eyes, as you are letting him bandage your wrists and ankles. He gently wipes away the dried blood and applies some ointments to the areas of your skin that were most abraded—evidence of your feeble attempt to escape and break free from these stupid shackles.
This has become a routine between the two of you. He tried to turn you into his first lady, and every time you showed your true colours and tried to get away from him, he locked you in here. For a day, two, or a week. You will never be able to determine exactly how long you have been hanging on the wall.
And then, moments like these came.
"You know you won't make it? I am and always will be from the district. You should have killed me ages ago." You mumble as much as your dry throat allows. Coriolanus, however, as usual, doesn't care much about your sarcastic remarks.
However, he lets go of your wrists and reaches for the water bottle, pressing it to your lips. You drink slowly, keeping your eyes on his blue irises, which always seem to be watching you intently.
You had long ago stopped trembling under his gaze, but there was something about him that wouldn't let you take your eyes off him. You wanted to think it was caution—the hunter's innate, eternal vigilance. But both you and Coriolanus knew very well that the reason you couldn't tear your eyes away from each other just like that was something more than your distrust for one another.
"I would let you go for the names of all the rebels. You know it well." He says this, throwing away the empty bottle. He wipes away the drops of water that have trickled down your chin and throat with his thumb and traces the line of your lips for a moment, caressing them.
"Of course, Mr. President. You would surely let me go. By extending my cage's run to your gardens." You mock him, and he just smiles slightly. He huffs, shaking his head as he pulls you into his arms and walks out. You might have found it romantic if he hadn't trapped you in that small, dark room or forced you to play the role he had assigned you.
"The reason for all the problems we have, is that you can't trust me." He states it matter-of-factly as he helps you sit on the armchair in his bedroom.
He ignores your angry glare and takes off your sweaty and dirty clothes. He takes you in his arms again and carries you to the bathroom, despite your attempts to break free from his arms. He carefully lowers you into the tub filled with warm water and foam. It smells like roses. Damn bastard.
"Because what you're doing now is giving me a hell of a lot of reasons to trust you." You growl in anger, pushing his hands away from you. Coriolanus grabs your chin tightly, forcing you to look into his icy blue eyes.
"Behave. We're not in the district." He reminds you with a cool tone of voice.
If he thought for even a moment that you would take on the role of his obedient pet, he was very wrong. You would have bitten off his finger to prove your point, but the prospect of another few nights in the cell had effectively dissuaded you from that tempting idea. At least for now.
You glare at him with an equally stubborn gaze, pulling your chin from his grip by tilting your head back. Coriolanus sighs, reaching for the bottle of shampoo. Without taking his eyes off yours, he begins to gently wash your hair, which you reluctantly allow him to do. The bastard gave good head massages. You could have let him have that false sense of gaining a little advantage. After all, you had been hanging for God knows how long, chained to that wall... or rather, the devil kneeling next to your bathtub.
"Why did you do that?" You ask with a shaky voice, breaking the silence between you as he reaches into the water to gently pour over the skin of your collarbones. He strokes your neck lazily, making you shiver under the touch of his rough, large hands.
"Specify. You obviously hold a lot of grudges against me if you came here after all these years with the intention of killing me... however pathetic and false this reason for your arrival may sound."
"False? I intended to kill you." You say, more furious with the stoic calm he displayed than with the fact that he dared to question the reason for your fateful arrival at the Capitol. Although, maybe you shouldn't be surprised? After all, it probably wasn't the first attempt on his life...
"Of course, little hunter." He replies, amused, thoroughly rinsing the foam from your hair. As he gently runs his fingers through them, you wonder what he said.
He couldn't be right. You came here for one simple purpose: to kill him. So why did your heart skip a beat when he declared that you were bluffing and fooling yourself? It could have been because of his closeness, how he was overwhelming you, and how both his warmth and his scent made you crazy, taking you back to those peaceful days in District 12 when you didn't know what a monster he was. But everything between you and Coriolanus ended a long time ago, right?
"Why did you kill Sejanus and Lucy Gray?" You ask, trying to stubbornly focus on the reason for your anger towards him, trying to push away the poisonous thoughts this snake has put into your head.
"I didn't kill them." You shudder as he spreads cold bath liquid over your heated body while whispering his answer.
You frown and turn your head, looking at him willingly for the first time. His eyes are focused on your body, though, as he slowly explores your body with his hands, caressing your skin. You see in his eyes how he reminds himself of the times when you two used to wash each other more often and in... much better circumstances. At least for you.
"So what? You sent them to the bottom of the ocean for a vacation?" You ask mockingly, pushing away his wandering hand that started to move too dangerously down your stomach. His eyes meet yours. You flinch as he takes your hand in his and guides it to where he wants it as he continues to wash you.
"Why? You want to join them?" His tone is laced with amusement as you unsuccessfully try to resist him. He finally stands up, grabs a towel, and lays it out for you, waiting for you to get out of the tub and let him dry you off.
"I want you to join them." You say, turning your back to him and standing up. He laughs softly, steps closer, and wraps the towel tightly around you, pressing his torso against your back. You shiver as you feel his breath on your neck.
"Not going to happen, my little hunter." His soft whisper, combined with his tight grip around you and the scent of roses that fills the bathroom after your forced bath, makes you feel even more trapped than when you were hanging against the wall. It was a difficult achievement, but you should've gotten used to the fact that, for him, nothing was impossible.
"Just answer the question." You reply stubbornly, brushing his arms off of you and turning to face him, keeping an iron grip on the towel.
"Why? So you can be under the illusion that I am not a monster and that you can feel something for me without feeling guilty? Or perhaps to make it easier for you to kill me?" He asks, running his hands through your wet hair before cupping your cheek. His thumb collects the drops of water that fall from your hair onto your temple and cheek, caressing your skin tenderly.
"I feel nothing but hatred for you. And believe me, when the time comes, nothing will stop me." You growl at him, furious. You push him away and get out of the tub.
He clicks his tongue, displeased more with the way the water drips from you onto the white marble floor of his bathroom than with the fact that you are desperatly tring to oppose him.
"You've always been a terrible liar, my darling. You are a much better hunter... but as you can see, not all of your prey fall into your traps."
"A mistake I intend to fix."
"Are you under the illusion that I'll give you a chance to do this?" He aks, following you as you exit the bathroom. He is using a tone of voice that reminds you of the way parents are scolding their child. You hear how bored he is and you feel your anger grow even more as he doesn't even try to take your threats seriously.
You don't respond to his taunt. You push past him and go back to his room, only to stand frozen in the middle when you see a blood-red dress with red rubies sewn onto the bodice on the bed.
"What is it?" You ask him angrily, turning to face him, knowing full well that the bastard was standing leaning against the doorframe with that shitty, smug smirk on his face you have learned to hate with the time you have spent with him recently.
"A dress."
"That I can tell. Why are you ordering me to put one?" You fold your arms, making sure the towel doesn't fall off of you, as his piercing blue eyes are focused only on you.
"Ordering? I wouldn't order anything to my sweet fiancèe."
"What?" You ask in pure shock as he steps closer to you. You step back with every step he takes until you feel the cool window pane against your back. You curse under your breath as he walks over to you with a smirk and lifts your hand, slipping the ring onto it. A fucking gold ring with a big white diamond.
"You didn't understand?" He asks with a mocking, dark chuckle that makes you question how much you actually know about this man and the customs of the Capitol. You knew that if Coriolanus Snow planned something, there was nothing you could do to stop him. And when he became president... his room for manoeuvre only increased.
"You are mad to think that I will marry you and that society of Capitol will accept our sick marriage." You tell him, happy that he walks away from you, but only to grab the dress and hand it to you.
"Why? After all, you are Y/N Y/L/N. The long lost descendant of an important general who died in the dark days. I found you and took you from the district to the Capitol, I returned you to your rightful place. And now you are recovering from the trauma you experienced."
"Nice story. How many people did you kill or bribe to make people believe in this?" You look down from him to the dress you held in your hands to avoid meeting his piercing eyes. The bastard knew how much you fucking loved it.
By the way, you were surprised at how well he remembered your preferences after so many years... because you were absolutely convinced that the dress you were currently holding in your hand was one of Tigris' designs that you had praised when you exchanged letters.
"No one died. And no one will die if you will cooperate with me, my little doom." He says, cupping your chin between two fingers and making you look straight into his eyes again. You swallow, trying to bear his burning gaze. He smiles wolfishly and kisses your lips gently, unhurriedly. Savouring the win. At least until you push him away, to which he just shakes his head with a smirk. You hate yourself for wanting to straighten the strand of his hair that fell on his forehead. "Dress up. You have underwear in the dresser. Choose something nice. And remember. One wrong move, and you're back in your cage. And that would be a terrible pity. The chefs prepared your favourite dishes for our engagement party. I'm sure you'll also enjoy some of the delicacies from the Capitol. I'll be waiting for you downstairs, my darling."
"You can kiss my ass!" You shout after him as he walks towards the exit, giving you some semblance of privacy to change and get dressed.
"Later, little hunter." He replies, unfazed by your outburst, and leaves, closing the door behind him. Locked, of course. You were always in a cage. Either a cold, musty cell, an exclusive bedroom, or the arms of that slimy, poisonous snake. And the worst of it all was that it was the first option that started to scare you the most.
"Don't eat so quickly. They'll think we started trying for an heir too soon, my dear." Snow admonished you with a quiet whisper in your ear as he approached you from behind, gently pressing his chest against your back as he wrapped his arm around your waist. You almost spit out your food at the thought of giving him any heirs.
Although you had plans for it in District 12. Two boys and one girl. You even had names. Crassus Xanthos, Adeline Rose, and Cardan Xenos. How stupid and naive you were back then.
"Well, maybe if you hadn't locked me up without food, I wouldn't have to make up for God knows how much time I spent without it." You reply grumpily, but you listen to him and slow down your eating pace a little.
"If you behaved like a lady and not a savage from the district, I wouldn't have to do this. Besides, I thought you didn't believe in God?"
"I have to. What other explanation is there for why devils like you exist in this world?" You answer very seriously, obviously mocking him. He rolls his eyes at you and looks around, making sure no one is listening to your conversation. The last thing he wants is you, spoiling the picture of a perfect copule he made up for the Capitol masses.
"I don't think that's exactly the right thing to say to your fiancé, my lovely little rebel." He replies, adjusting the necklace around your neck. You shiver as his fingertips brush against the skin of your collarbone, hating yourself for how pleasant that small touch felt.
For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you hit him and whether the ridiculously large ring he gave you would accidentally gouge out his eye in the process. You have to test it someday...
"So suddenly you want to play the conservative, exemplary couple?" You ask mockingly, playing with the sleeve of your dress, trying to ignore the hateful glances the harpies were giving you for ruining their plans to settle down the great President Snow.
"I told you this before, Y/N. All that stands in the way of our happiness is your childishness, idiotic stubbornness, and lack of trust. I took care of you in District 12, I met your every need, and I protected you from every other man who tried to lay his finger on you, including the commander. I risked my future for you more than once. Do you think that I have suddenly changed completely? That I am not able to feel the same as before and take care of what is mine?"
"Wait... you killed Hoff?" You ask in shock, trying to hold on to that one sentence he had said. You won't let that bastard make you feel guilty. "I never asked you about any of these things. You did it all by yourself. Because you wanted to. Because you got something out of this. So don't try to pull the wool over my eyes and tell me that you're my hero, because even now, when you are trying to turn me into a Capitol girl, you are doing it only for your benefit and entertainment."
"You could show some gratitude. If I wanted, I could easly have any woman here. And they would bring me much more than you."
"Would they? Would they be able to fill the void left by me? Because that was the point, right? You saw me everywhere. In everything. You couldn't get rid of the ghost of our past, and it made you feel crazy. Maybe even mad and lonely. I'm only here for your mental health. To tie up loose ends, right, Coriolanus?"
Your mockery finally throws him off balance. His calm, indifferent façade breaks before you. You see the burning anger in his eyes as he takes a step towards you, closing any space between you. However, he's still composed enough to remember that you're both in a public place, so instead of reaching for your neck, he cups your cheek, holding you tightly. He leans down, pressing his temple to yours to whisper in your ear.
"I could kill you so quickly, painfully and silently that no one would notice your sudden disappearance..."
"But then you'd also be burying your sanity with me, right? You know... I heard you screaming after me in the forest all these years ago. Your desperate pleas for me not to leave you. The only person who showed you warmth, compassion, and care, who wasn't related to you, who didn't have to do it out of any sick sense of duty or fear. Tell me, do you still have your mother's shawl that I dropped when I ran away from you? Does it still smell like me?"
You keep pushing him to the edge of his patience, hoping he'll break and show all these people who gathered to celebrate your fake engagement what he really is. But instead of causing a scene, he just growls into your ear before capturing your lips in a passionate, aggressive kiss. He takes advantage of your shock as you gasp, allowing his tongue to invade your mouth.
Kissing Coriolanus has always been like this. A passionate, possessive fight between you. Everything or nothing. Either completely gentle and tender or a breathtaking, mind-blowing experience. And you hated yourself for how easily you found yourself in his arms and close to his body as he pressed you to him, trying to vent the burning anger (that you aroused in him) on your lips. A clever bastard.
Before he pulls away from you, he bites your lower lip in some twisted act of punishment. You lick your lips as he pulls away, tasting your blood on the tongue.
"For your own good, you should learn when to shut your damn, pretty mouth." He growls, moving away from you. He discreetly wipes your lipstick from his mouth with a tissue and hands it to you, so you can also fix the makeup he ruined. And you try your hardest to ignore the looks other people give you. You're fucking blushing anyway.
"I am not a puppet you can control." You say, trying to maintain some semblance of control over the situation.
"I never wanted you to be one. It would be so boring… after all, it's so much more fun to break you down every time you're hoping you'll escape and have someone at your side who actually uses brain cells.. Nothing can tear us apart, Y/N. I won't let you run away from me again. The hunt and chase are over, my little hunter. Even death won't separate us, because I swear I will take you with me everywhere, even to my own grave." He mumbles, his nose brushing against yours. You feel his breath on your cheek as he places his hands on your shoulders, making sure you don't run away from him. You shiver when he touches the bare skin of your arms. He gives you a cocky smirk, well aware of what the closeness between the two of you is doing to you.
From the outside, to casual observers, it might have looked like an ordinary, loving conversation between two people who couldn't keep their hands off each other. You should get used to the fact that people's eyes will always be on you and that Coriolanus can whisper death threats with the most tender expression on his face.
You move away from him and reach for the champagne the waiter hands you. You take a sip, ignoring Coriolanus' glare, but as soon as the liquid slides down your throat, you feel like you've swallowed corrosive acid. You drop your glass in shock, shattering it on the floor, and you grab your throat, coughing.
Blood flows from your mouth, soaking the neckline of your dress as you lose control and spitting the red liquid onto the floor as you kneel, unable to steady yourself on your shaking legs.
Poison. Coriolanus poisoned you. He was planning your death all along. How wrong you were...
But why would he do it this way? Why now, in public and not in the privacy of his residence, taking his revenge? Why was he keeping you alive for so long, under the pretext of making you a resident of the Capitol and his polite, obedient little fiancée and future wife and First Lady?
And when he kneels next to you, taking you in his arms and holding you, as panic begins to form around you from the screams of the crowd and their chaotic footsteps, you become even more confused. His eyes are all you can look at when you are struggling for air.
The chandelier above him causes you to see a golden halo-like glow around his head. The thought crosses your mind that this is what Lucifer must have looked like before he became a fallen angel. This is how you were supposed to die. In the arms of the devil. The devil that you yourself allowed to get close to you.
"You did great, my love." You hear him whisper in your ear. Before you drift off into the darkness, you feel him place something cold against your lips, forcing the thick, bitter liquid down your throat.
The first thing you feel after regaining consciousness is a terrible pain in your throat. As if it had turned into a real desert. You are convinced that this is hell. It's only when you realise you're lying on soft red silk sheets, on the familiar bed that belonged to Coriolanus, that you realise you're still in YOUR hell. Unfortunately, you cannot say which option was worse: meeting the real devil or facing the blonde demon in a red suit again.
You open your eyes slowly, gratefully accepting that you are surrounded by darkness, illuminated only by the faint glow of moonlight that filters through the half-covered windows.
You are hit by the strong scent of roses next to you. You freeze, feeling Coriolanus's arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Only now do you realise that he is lying right next to you, his face turned towards you. He breathes easily and calmly. His usually combed and slicked hair is slightly messy, which only adds to his charm and makes you want to run your hand through it and feel its softness (an opportunity you were deprived of in District 12 during his time as peackeeper). You almost forget that he poisoned you at the party. Almost.
You slowly try to slide his arm off of you and get out of bed. You manage to sit up, but when you gently push his arm off of you, he immediately wakes up. He automatically reaches for your wrist and locks it in a tight grip. He looks at you, blinking a few times before he wakes up enough to realise what's happening around him.
"You finally woke up. Dr. Gaul said it might take you some time. You're not as resistant to poisons as I am yet, my darling, but we'll change that soon." He assures you, sitting on the bed as well. He places his hand on your jaw and forces you to open your mouth so he can check your throat. You don't fight him for now; you are too tired from the events of a few hours ago to try to stand up to him like you always do. Besides, you'd rather have him checking and treating you than that crazy woman.
The concern shining in his eyes tells you that if he wanted to kill you, he wouldn't be giving you the antidote, checking your injuries right now, or sleeping and watching over you in his bed, playing the role of nurse to help you recover.
So you have no fucking idea why he let you drink the poison from the glass. Nor who put it there.
"What happened…" You try to ask, but as quickly as you speak, you feel your throat begin to scratch. A new wave of coughing comes over you. You cover your mouth with your hand, choking as blood sprinkles on your hands again. You feel like you're about to hyperventilate or have a full panic attack as you remember the situation from a few hours ago.
"Easy." He whispers, placing his hand on your back. When you finish coughing, he hands you a glass of water. You look at it distrustfully. He sighs, rolling his eyes, and takes a sip. You wait a minute, and when you see that nothing is wrong with him, you take it from him and drink. "This should explain everything to you."
He takes a folded piece of paper from his pants pocket and unfolds it. He places it on your lap. You freeze for a moment at the image of yourself.
"Wanted poster. District 13, as your little rebel group called itself, has put a large bounty on your head. And this evening, they carried out an attack on you. Something about getting to me through you. The peacekeepers couldn't get anything more out of the rebels they caught before... I think you know what happened to them. You have become their next arch-enemy. Almost as big as me."
"At least they did a better job with my portrait. What you told your dogs to show around the districts did not fully reflect my beauty." You wheeze as you try to speak. You see, he's not happy about you trying to use your voice.
Coriolanus sits next to you again, and despite your silent protests, he pulls you into his arms, making you lean against his chest. He puts his chin on your shoulder and shows you some portraits of some people. People you knew well, people you had fought with before against him and the peackeepers. People who poisoned you likely met their own deaths at the behest of a man who wrapped his arms around you, holding you hostage in his bed. Honestly, you'd rather rot in the ground with other rebels who wanted your death and be interrogated by peakceepers than be here with Coriolanus. Or at least, that's what you were telling yourself.
"I did it on purpose. Do you think anyone would believe that you suddenly went from being an enemy and a traitor to the nation to becoming the respected daughter of a general who died in the war?"
"Why are you doing this, Coriolanus? This whole fake performance and show for the Capitol. And that keeping me alive and scaring me with my people—what is it for? What do you want to achieve?" You ask, pausing to sip your water and turning in his arms so you can carefully analyse his face and his reactions to your questions.
"People like us should stay together."
"Like us? I'm nothing like you." You quickly protest, at which he just chuckles, shaking his head. He places his hand on your cheek and strokes it with his thumb, examining your face carefully.
"Now… don't insult my and your intelligence. I know when you're lying, so stop telling yourself these slanderous things, my lovely little hunter. Don't act dumb. You know why I want you. Here. With me on my laps and by my side. Right where you belong." Coriolanus holds you against him possessively, emphasising the validity of his words.
Apart from the delicate, intoxicating scent of roses coming from him and the warmth that emanates from his body, you can feel his heart beating calmly in his chest. A cold chill runs through you at the thought that yours might have stopped pounding like that long ago if he hadn't given you the antidote in time.
"If you really wanted and loved me so much, you would never have let me drink this poison today." You mumble into his neck as you let him hold you, even welcoming the way he lazily massages your scalp and plays with your hair. There is little you can do in your dazed state. You still feel tired from the whole day. Or rather, I spent weeks and months locked in this large villa.
"It's because I love you that I had to do it. If it weren't for that, you wouldn't understand how dangerous these people are. These dogs who chew on the hand of the Capitol that feeds them will do anything to overthrow us and destroy the peace we reached. And I won't let the dark days come again for the Capitol. Our children will not have to starve like we did. I had promised you that, and I intend to keep that promise." He says, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.
You shiver at the familiar feeling of his lips on your skin and the seriousness of the situation this small gesture caused. Once upon a time, these promises seemed sweet to you; they were even a dream come true. Now he was only offering you your worst nightmares on a golden platter.
"I thought then that we would stay in the district. Away from the Capitol, away from the bloodthirsty ambitions of people like Dr. Gaul and the psychopaths who think that killing 24 innocent children every year in some fucking Games is a great idea for entertainment. I thought you were different, that you were capable of love, but now I see that you are a monster, just like they all are."
"Would a monster take care of you? Would I hold you close, try my best to protect you, and make you my First Lady if I were one? Would I forgive you for your escape and betrayal and welcome you with open arms, even after you tried to kill me? What do you think this is if not love?"
"An obsession. The sick desire to have control over another." You say with complete confidence, recalling 'the training' he gave you very clearly. Maybe for him, being locked in a cold cell for a few days wasn't a sign of cruelty, but a way to educate you to be an excellent lady from the Capitol. But you would rather die than become a pretty doll on his shoulder.
"Maybe yes. Maybe I'm obsessed with you. But that doesn't change the fact that you're mine, Y/N. You were always meant to be mine. You better get used to it. I wouldn't want to give you poison without an antidote."
You don't know what's colder, the tone of his voice in which he delivers his warning, or the emptiness you feel when his arms abandon you as he gets out of bed. Either way, you don't feel the sweet taste of victory when he leaves, dramatically slamming the door behind him and, of course, locking you in the room as you are left on your own.
You start to lose control. You can feel it. You were starting to become very attached to him, to his presence, smell, touch, kisses... You were starting to question everything you had ever believed in. He fed you lies that you wanted to believe, and that was the worst. You grab your arm, rubbing it, and the large diamond on your finger mocks you, as it is reflecting in the dim light of the bedroom.
You close your eyes, sighing shakily as you realise your fate. Today's attempt to poison you wasn't just an attempt to kill you or to get to Coriolanus. You knew it. It meant something more. It was a signal. You were supposed to move before they took matters into their own hands.
And for a brief moment, as you played with your engagement ring on your finger, you wondered what would have happened if things had turned out differently. What would life be like if you and Coriolanus ran away together? Maybe you could stop the carnage he caused? Spare human lives by keeping a domesticated Coriolanus on a leash? NO. You shake your head. A caged animal is still a dangerous animal. Not a home-pet. And even if you became his first lady, nothing would change. He won't change. Not like you.
Because the undeniable truth of the world of people who have high ambitions, the ability to carefully observe human behaviour and predict their movements, insight, and perseverance, is that they either live long enough to become a monster or short enough to become a hero. And you promised yourself a long time ago that you would rather die than ever become one of the Capitol's citizens.
One step. Second. Third. You feel your heart beat rapidly in your chest as you sneak through the presidential palace, avoiding the peacekeepers.
You stop and hide behind a pillar, waiting for the two patrolling the corridor that led to Coriolanus' office to pass by you. You hold your breath, listening to a pair of footsteps approach and recede, leaving you alone in the hallway for a moment.
You remember the first night you entered the mansion—the night Coriolanus caught you. You promised yourself that you would not leave the presidential palace until you saw his dead body. And if there was one good thing you had in common with Coriolanus, it was that you always kept the promises you made to each other. Except for one.
You were both breathing heavily as you lay in the small bed in the lake house. Coriolanus held you close to his chest, placing small kisses on your bare shoulder. You sighed, still stunned by your activity from a few moments ago. You turned around, careful not to fall off the small mattress, and clung to his chest, ignoring the smell of the two of you's mixed sweat.
The rain pounded against the roof of the wooden hut, lulling you to sleep in your peacekeeper's arms. You buried your face in his neck, humming as he lazily ran his hand through your hair. You felt peace—a rare and very precious thing in District 12. Coriolanus' arms and his closeness gave you great comfort and a sense of security; it was a promise of a break from reality and entering your world, limited only to the two of you. You've never felt anything like this with anyone else. And you know, you will never be able to feel this way with anyone else.
"Promise that you will never leave me." His soft whisper snaps you from your half-asleep state. You lift your head to look at him, frowning at his strange request.
He had his soft moments, but he had never shown you such a... vulnerable side of himself. Even when you first saw the wounds on his back, or discovered how thin he was under his peackeeper clothes two weeks after he arrived in District 12. Coriolanus trusted no one. Except you. A gift that you valued more than his love, devotion, and desire.
So when you see the hesitation in his eyes and his attempt to retreat into his hard shell, you lean in, connecting your lips in a tender, gentle, slow kiss. You taste his lips as if they were the sweetest nectar; you savour them slowly, only becoming more and more addicted to him. You massage his scalp, pulling him closer to you and straddling him.
You reluctantly pull away from him and look into his eyes as you link your hands and place them on your chest so he can feel your heartbeat. He looks at you, stunned, waiting patiently to see what your next move will be.
"It's yours. It'll always be yours. You stole it from me the day you shot that guy who was trying to get to me and arranged for him to be hanged. You hold it in your iron grip, and you'll have it until the end of time. And I'd rather die than live without my heart, Coryo."
You see that he is touched and that you are slowly breaking down his walls. To avoid showing such weakness, he pulls your head to his neck. He plays with your hair and presses a long kiss on your temple as you lay on top of him. He covers you both with a blanket, and you fall asleep cradled in his arms, lulled to sleep by the beating of his heart and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.
And for a moment, being with him in the privacy of the cabin, you really felt like you were the lucky one.
You shake your head, and before the peacekeeper patrol arrives, you walk to the door of Coriolanus' office. You don't knock. You quietly open the door and step inside. The soft carpet that touches your bare feet is a nice change from the cold marble.
Coriolanus doesn't respond to your silent entrance at first, but it's only when you approach the desk that he senses the presence of someone else in the room. He looks up from the papers on his desk and frowns when he sees you in your nightgown (one of his sleep shirts, that is).
"What are you doing here? The peacekeepers were supposed to keep an eye on you so you didn't go anywhere." He says, pretending his heart didn't beat faster at the sight of you so homely. He's already replaying the fantasy in his head of this becoming your routine. You came to him late at night to distract him from presidential matters and drag him to the warmth of your shared bed. Later. With time. He will be there.
"I needed to talk to you. It was easy to avoid these two to get to your office. As for the remaining 20 in the building, it probably wouldn't have been so effortless to get out of here."
"35. There are also secret passages." He corrects you, putting down the papers he was looking at. "What do you want?" He asks, rubbing his eyes tiredly. You stop your curiosity from looking at the papers and focus your eyes fully on him.
"I was thinking about what happened yesterday… And I came to the conclusion that you might be right."
"Don't you say..." He mutters mockingly, standing up to pour himself some whisky from the bar. He comes back with two glasses, handing you one, to which you just nod politely. He shrugs and pours the liquid into one glass, not taking his eyes from you.
"Do not look at me like this. You know how hard it is for me to admit this. I... since then, in District 12... after Sejanus was hanged and... I could have been blinded by Lucy Gray's grief and resentment towards you. I could believe the picture of the monster she painted. After all, you've known each other longer. You, Sejanus, and her... But you can't blame me for thinking I'd be next." You try to explain your course of action to him. He seems uninterested in it; at least that's what you can tell from his body language. But the eyes... you had studied reading them long enough to be able to read his thoughts in them.
"I don't blame you. I would think the same. I blame you for actually running away with her. That you chose her instead of staying and trusting me." He says, not hiding the hurt in his voice. You lower your head in mock contrition as he downs his drink and places the empty glass on the desk.
"And I regretted it every single day, Coryo." You lie, trying your hardest to make him believe you. You even use his nickname and kneel next to his chair, taking his hands in yours. You don't meet his eyes. You focus your gaze and grap on his hands, knowing all too well that if you look at him, you will reveal your intentions. Because Coriolanus knew you as well as you knew him. "I know it's been hard for you without me... but I haven't had it easy either. I saw you... us... everywhere. I... I wished every day that I was in your arms. That I could somehow feel you next to me, talk to you. And that's why, instead of sinking into my growing despair and longing, I tried to turn this feeling into hatred, but... I can't go on like this anymore... I... I can't pretend that you are my enemy, that I hate you. Because that's not true. It never could be." Only at the end do you dare to look at him, trying to look as uncertain and contrite as you can. "You were right. All this time. I was... too proud to admit it, since I went so far in all of this running away from you and trying to fight you, but I can't do this anymore. I can't deny anymore what my heart wants."
"And what is it?" His whisper is hoarse, and his eyes are completely focused on you. This is a breakthrough moment. The course of events will depend on whether he believes you... but do you really have to put a lot of effort into lying to him?
"You." You confess, bringing complete silence to the room.
You don't know if he decides to ignore your bluff, or if he's fed up with this fight between you and simply needs your closeness, or if you've finally learned to lie so well from him that even he can't tell that you're entirely honest with him, or if you are trying to lie to yourself in an attempt to simplify your mission.
You don't want to know.
That's why, when he suddenly grabs you by the waist and sits you on his lap, you don't protest. Same when he captures your lips in a passionate kiss. The feeling of his soft, plush lips on yours befuddles you for a moment. You forget about your plan and let him caress your lips, giving yourself over again to that familiar, burning feeling that overwhelmed the two of you every time you gave in to your deepest desires.
When he bites your lower lip, demanding full access to your mouth, you remember what you came here for. You let your tongues tangle and sigh softly, accepting, after so many years of separation, that burning sensation spreading from your chest to his touch and closeness. You bite the inside of your cheek and deepen the kiss, your tongue fighting with his for dominance.
You give in, allowing him to place you on his desk. In one quick movement, he throws everything off it onto the floor. The glass shatters, but that's the last thing you notice as you melt into his touch and moan into his lips.
He pulls away for a moment, and you only see the smirk on his face for a brief moment before he dives down to your neck, marking you with his kisses and small bites. His hand slides up your bare leg, making you shiver as it leisurely reaches the hem of (his) shirt you're wearing.
"Coryo." You moan, tangling your hands in his blonde locks at the nape of his neck and pulling him closer to you. You sigh as he pushes his hips into yours at the sudden feeling of your fingers in his hair and tugging—something that was impossible to do in his peacekeeper days.
You hear him growl into your neck. He tries to position you comfortably on his desk so that he has adequate access to you, but suddenly he freezes, and you can see in his eyes that he's changing his mind. You're afraid he might have sensed your trick, but the moment you're back in his arms, you calm down a little.
Coriolanus from District 12 wouldn't care what surface he takes you to. It didn't matter to him at all, as long as you both could hold yourselves in the position he had imagined. That's why you're surprised when he carries you all the way through the presidential palace and into his bedroom, ignoring the brief glances he gets from the surprised peackeepers before they look away in confusion.
As he places you gently on his bed, you almost feel sorry for what you have to do. Almost. His lips on yours effectively drive any logical thought from your head. You can only feel, see, and hear him.
It scares you how much control he has over you and how much you've allowed him to control every little piece of you over the years, even though you were several districts apart. Your foolish heart believed his lies. That you belong to each other. And you're convinced that a few more weeks at his side would make your common sense stop protesting and accept the role he's given you.
But you won't admit to anyone that, in the darkest depths of your heart, you dream of the life he could have given you. About being his First Lady and about the selfish, luxurious life you could lead by his side. But you didn't want to be a monster. You didn't want to become one of them. The fear of this was greater than the fear of what awaited you at the end of the night when you carried out your plan.
But as long as he is with you, you can drown out your heart's cry for the future you could have if you were a little more like Coriolanus. You can pretend and deceive both him and yourself that this night is only the beginning of your wonderful, long future.
You gently push him off of you and onto his back. You sit astride him and lazily place a trail of kisses from his jaw, neck, collarbone, chest, and toned stomach down. Before you get to where he needs you most, he grabs your neck and pulls you closer to kiss you hard and possessively. He tangles his hand in your hair and moves to rest against the headboard of the bed.
You both moan, resting your foreheads against each other as you lower yourself onto his length. He holds you in a tight embrace, his breathing getting heavier, and you know it's not just because he's excited about what you're doing now.
You wrap your arms around him, holding him as tight and close to you as he is holding you. Your walls tighten around him as you slowly move, settling on a ridiculously slow pace compared to how you used to be madly chasing your peaks.
This is a completely different type of intimacy. You're glad he can't see your face, because he would definitely read the guilt and bitterness you feel when he moans your name and sweet words into your ear.
"I've waited so damn long to have you again. My little hunter. You will be a beautiful bride and a stunning First Lady. Nothing will stand in our way. My darling. My sweet poison. My greatest pursuit and reward. I will give you the life we dreamed about in District 12. All you have to do is stay and trust me."
You nod, moaning as he picks up the pace. You dig your nails into his shoulders as you feel how close you are to reaching your edge.
"Promise. Promise me it will never happen again. That you are mine, and you will stay with me, right where you belong. Promise me, Y/N." He grabs you tightly by the neck and forces you to look into his eyes. You shed tears that he licks away, mistaking them for tears of pleasure as he presses himself relentlessly into your most sensitive spot.
Little does he know that these are tears of guilt that you shouldn't feel. But you can't convince your foolish heart otherwise. Not when he's buried deep inside you and looks at you like you're his whole world.
"I… I promise, Coryo." You moan and tangle your hand in his hair, pulling him in for a kiss to take his burning, searching gaze away from your face. He pushes you onto your back and hugs you tightly as he pounds into you with newfound speed, aroused by the promise you just made to him. He sucks on your skin, littering it with hickeys, as if you weren't marked enough by him in his mind. As if he hadn't already completely penetrated your soul.
You scream his name, hugging him painfully tight as you come. You feel a great sense of bliss that you haven't felt in a long time. You're completely dazed, feeling nothing but the rapid thrusts as your lover and greatest enemy chases his orgasm to join you in the orgasmic haze. Coriolanus comes a moment after you, crashing into your mouth hungrily, making you both swallow each other's moans as you two are experiencing the greatest bliss in your life.
He pulls you along with him as he lays down on the mattress. He still holds you in a possessive, strong hug, afraid that you will run away from him or suddenly disappear at any moment. You bury your face in his neck and place small kisses there, drawing lazy patterns with your finger on his chest.
"I love you." He mumbles and presses a kiss on your forehead. You tilt your head to look at him briefly. Before he can read anything from your eyes, you lean in and connect your lips in a slow, tender kiss. You cup your hand around his cheek and stroke his skin with your thumb. You pull away from him. Coriolanus grabs your wrist and moves his head to kiss the palm of your hand and the finger on which you had his engagement ring.
"I love you too." You whisper and snuggle into him. Coriolanus holds you tightly, sighing with relief. Finally. The moment he had waited for since he saw you entering his presidential palace.
He begins to feel tired as the adrenaline wears off and his heart beats slower and slower. He shifts you off his chest as he finds it increasingly difficult to breathe with you on top of him, but he still holds you close to him, always having at least one hand wrapped tightly around you.
You stare into each other's eyes until he's so tired he can't keep them open anymore. He falls asleep, his face turned towards you, and you can't help but trace the line of his jaw with your hand, caressing him gently.
It was an equal fight and chase.
Coriolanus made only one serious mistake. Enough to seal the fate of the two of you.
He forgot himself, deeming you a non-threat, and left you alone in his bedroom. Exactly where he kept all the poisons he had already become immune to.
It was too easy to secure a few vials and send a message to the other rebels. And you had huge doubts as you implemented this multi-step plan, but you were there. You patiently made it to the end. His own and Coriolanus Snow's.
You bit through the vial of poison sewn into your cheek, drawing blood, and let it pass into Coriolanus' mouth as he kissed you hungrily in his office a few hours ago.
And now, you lay next to him, staring at him as he sleeps peacefully next to you. He was breathing evenly, like you; your pulse slowly decreased, as did the rate of your breaths. He looks like an angel with his hair spread out on the pillow. You were supposed to hand him over to the devil himself. Yourself too.
You closed your eyes as you started to feel the effects of the poison.
You nuzzle your nose into his chest, inhaling his scent. Roses overwhelm your senses. His scent and the warmth radiating from him lull you to sleep next to him. The last one, you think to yourself as he buries his nose in your hair and tightens his grip on you.
Hunters sometimes died in pursuit of their prey, bringing an end to both them and themselves. Both you and Coriolanus could have predicted that you would be each other's end. At least it wasn't as bloodthirsty and drastic as the outcome could have been, you think as you fall asleep cuddled together.
#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x y/n#young coriolanus snow#oneshot#coriolanus snow#tbosbas#coriolanus snow x you#corionalus snow#toxic relationship#dark coriolanus snow#smut#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus x reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#coriolanus x you#coriolanus smut#snow lands on top#coriolanus x y/n
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… can i have an old fashioned/long island neat?
i already did long island neat, sweets. so i’ll whip you up a quick old fashioned instead—here’s some snacks while you wait 🧁🍿🥜
[ “no, no. leave your clothes on for me” + azriel ]
-> BLURB BAR <-
It’s not very often that Az gets in these kinds of moods.
The kind where he allows the darkness of his job in Hewn to bleed over into the bedroom. To be fair, he’s significantly subdued but that cloudy storm in aureate irises is unmistakable—he craves. Desires the thrill of a hunt that’s more satisfying than whatever remains in those dungeons. “Rough night?”
He hums in agreement, hands flexing at his sides as a breeze cuts through a cracked window. “Want you to do something for me.”
“Anything.” It should be shameful how eager you are to please, already shuffling away from the safety of warm sheets and fluffed pillows just to stand before him.
There’s still blood on his leathers but the bulk of his weapons are gone, neatly set aside for now. Small ones remain, little daggers, easily concealed switchblades, throwing knives tucked in most if not all of the little pockets sewn into his fighting gear. “ ‘M a little wound up,” Azriel confesses tersely, his stance too rigid; his touch too restrained when a thumb grazes the line of your cheekbone. Unbound hair is nudged away from your shoulder and you only watch the darkness in his eyes grow when the palm of his hand splays around the length of your neck. Your pulse flutters against his fingertips under the gentle claiming, grip applying enough pressure to make your lids go a little lazy. “Looking for a chase—think you can run for me?”
He can feel you swallow, the roll of your throat in his grasp as your sleepy brain arouses at the implication. So much power you surrender over to him; trusting that he won’t abuse it. There’s no request he’s ever asked for that you haven’t given. “Can I get a head start?”
There’s a fondness in the way he looks at you when he nods, shadows teasing around the bulk of his shoulders, resting against him like a prowling panther. “Sure pretty, only because you’re smart enough to ask.” The praise makes you forget to bother with a coat and excitement bubbles in his belly when you snag an elastic to tuck your hair away. “Make it good for me.”
A brow raises, gaze seeking him out over your shoulder. One finger dips under the straps of your nightgown, flimsy fabric beginning to slide down your frame when he tuts his tongue. “No, no. Leave your clothes on for me.” Greed stains his tongue; shows its head when shadows writhe in barely controlled restraint—predators salivating for suitable prey; for a satisfactory hunt. One that leaves his blood pumping and adrenaline soaring through his muscles; casting iron around his bones and shifting him from male to beast. “I’ll take them off once I’ve caught you. It’ll be my prize.”
A devilish grin spreads across your face. “You mean if catch me.”
#idkk it’s almost spooky season and being chased#being chased through the woods by az#well#that’s a necessity#acotar x reader#acotar#acotar x you#azriel#acotar azriel#azriel x you#azriel x reader#the theme wasn’t specified so implied smut it is#azriel fic#azriel fanfic
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Delicate. part 1
pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
note: Lando invites everyone to his New Year's Eve party, but Charles convinces you to join him on a hunt for food.
You knew this New Year’s Eve party was important to Lando, you knew he wanted everyone to be there, so you put on a shiny, dark pink sequin mini dress, applied some light makeup, then headed out to the club that he somehow managed to reserve for himself. How long he’d been planning this, you had no idea, but he surely went a little overboard this time. I just want to be alone with my friends, that’s not a crime, he defended himself when you pointed this out to him a few weeks ago.
At the party, you felt a little out of place. This was the first time in years you weren’t entering the new year on the side of your boyfriend, the one you had broken up with half a year ago. It was a mutual decision, the spark wasn’t there anymore, so you didn’t miss him, you just missed the idea of clinging to someone the whole night. It was pathetic, you hated yourself for feeling this way, but there was nothing you could do about it.
Your best friend knew Lando, but she didn’t get an invitation because everybody knew she spent every New Year’s Eve on a yacht in the Maldives. She tried to convince you to go with her this year, but you didn’t feel like leaving Monaco for a place so far away, especially not when she would be all over her boyfriend the whole time. They were cute together, you loved them, but third wheeling wasn’t so inviting.
You chatted with a few people, even let someone convince you to dance a little, but then you found a couch in the back of the club that you chose as your permanent spot for the rest of the night when you sat down with a cocktail in your hand. It was nice to sit back and watch the people around you celebrate, having the time of their lives from the looks of it. Despite the weird feeling you had since you arrived, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. At least they were happy. They were celebrating.
You? You didn’t know what to look out for in the new year. Maybe you should get a job again. After you finished your studies, you worked for a consulting company for a year, but then you had enough of the excel files and the presentations, and decided to be nothing more than a carefree heiress in the future. Your grandmother, who came from a wealthy family with a long history, had always favored you over her children, including your mother. So, when she died, she left everything to you in her will.
The peaceful people-watching activity was disrupted when you noticed someone plopping down next to you out of the corner of your eye. It annoyed you, really, but once you turned to look at who it was, your annoyance disappeared as if it hadn’t even been there. You didn’t really know Charles. Sure, he was on good terms with Lando, sometimes you attended the same parties, but the most you exchanged were probably a total of ten sentences in the span of years. But he had that calming aura around him, one that made you feel better, as if you were suddenly wrapped in a warm blanket.
At first, you didn’t talk, there was no need for that. He just probably needed a place to sit down until he got a little rest before rejoining the party. Sipping your drink, you continued to watch the people, completely ignoring your neighbor. But then you began to have a strange feeling, as if someone was watching you, eyes burning a hole in you without knowing, and it didn’t take long to figure out it was him who was shamelessly ogling you.
When you turned to him with a questioning look, he quickly shifted his gaze somewhere else, acting like he hadn’t just been caught in the act of staring at you. Shaking your head a little, you decided to ignore him for now. He was probably drunk and had no idea what was appropriate anymore. Although, he didn’t seem that out of it, in fact, he just looked tired with those dark circles under his eyes.
And then you felt his thigh press against yours, shoulders touching after he moved closer to you. “I bet you don’t wanna be here either,” he said, leaning close so you could hear him over the music. Finally turning to acknowledge him, you give him a surprised look. “Lando was quite literally begging me to come tonight. I’m only here because I promised, even though I’d rather be somewhere else. Anywhere else,” he added.
“If I could choose, I’d be sitting on my couch with a blanket around me, eating popcorn while holding a movie marathon,” you admitted with a smile. “But it’s impossible to say no to him.”
“Sad, but true.” His green eyes turned to the crowd in front of you, but you didn’t miss the way his fingers played with his bracelets. “I would give up my car for some popcorn. Or a pizza. Or some pasta. Anything, really, because I’m starving,” he told you as he looked back.
The last time you were around the other side of the club, there was a huge table with a lot of food, how could he not see that? But when you shared this little piece of information with him, he just laughed, and his bright smile reached his eyes too. You wondered what was so funny about this, but you soon got your answer.
“Yeah, that was true until about an hour ago. I was just about to finally eat something, but some guy grabbed the very last of the sliders I had my eyes on. The table is empty. There’s no food. We’re going to die.” He dramatically threw his hands in the air as he leaned back, glancing down at his watch. “It’s only eleven, I don’t know how long I’ll last. Do you think I will live until midnight?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his question. But you weren’t laughing at him, you were laughing with him. Now that he mentioned food, though, you realized that you were quite hungry too. “Did you really have to bring up food?” you asked him with a disapproving look.
Charles’s lips curled into a grin. “Now you’re hungry too, aren’t you?” When you nodded, he bumped his shoulder against yours. “It’s your fault for talking about popcorn,” he pointed out. “Although… Do you think Lando would notice if we left? He seems so busy partying that I highly doubt he would notice we’re not here.”
As your eyes scanned the crowd to find the host, you let out a thoughtful hum. The last time you saw him, which conveniently happened in the restroom, he was already on his way to get real drunk, and he was having so much fun you highly doubted he would care about some of his guests escaping. So, without thinking more about this, you turned to the Monegasque next to you and told him the answer is probably no.
“Great,” he said as he jumped up and extended his hand for you to grab it. When you just watched him with a questioning look, he leaned down to take your hand and pull you up. “Come on, I know a place where we can hopefully get food.” And with that, he took your hand and pulled you towards the exit, not really giving you the chance to object.
The two of you walked down the street, hands stuffed into the pockets of your jackets to fight the chilly night air, and you talked about music, movies, even about how Christmas went. You barely noticed that he came to a halt in front of a little bistro in a narrow street, holding up a pointer finger to ask for a second while he opened the door and peeked inside.
He spoke with someone in French, exchanging words you couldn’t quite make out, then he reached out for your hand with a smile on his face and pulled you inside. There was a small group of people sitting around a table, happily discussing something until they noticed you standing there. At first, there was silence. But then they erupted in cheers while someone stood up and pulled Charles into a hug.
A man in his late thirties ushered you to an empty chair by the table that he pulled out for you, then he poured both you and the Monegasque driver a glass of wine. You watched as your new companion got comfortable across from you, already deep in a conversation with an older man who explained something with wide motions of his hand.
Whoever these people were, they clearly welcomed him like he was family. The older man he was talking to called him son at one point, and Charles didn't flinch, he just smiled lovingly as he listened to the story. He was way more at ease here than he had been back in the club. The dark circles under his eyes were still there, but those green eyes came to life in this new environment.
Someone placed freshly made sandwiches in front of you, and you didn't miss the small smile on his face when he glanced at you for a moment. A little explanation would have been nice, just so you would know whose company you were enjoying, but since he didn't bother to explain, you focused your attention on your food. And when you took a bite? God, it was heavenly.
“Good, right?” When you glanced up, you noticed that a kind-looking, forty-something woman was now sitting on the chair next to you, her long brown hair flowing down her shoulders as her blue eyes watched you with a mischievous glint. “My father,” she began, motioning towards the man Charles was talking to, “opened this place because he wanted people to have actual conversations with each other while enjoying their food. Charles can have extremely long discussions with him about literally anything.”
Once you swallowed, you extended a hand to her to introduce yourself. After you got past that, you turned your finger around to show what you were about to say was related to everyone in this room. “So, is it a family event that he just crashed?” you wondered out loud.
Marie let out a laugh as she shook her head. “Hardly. They're all friends through my father, though. We always gather here on New Year's Eve, but this is the first time Charles came. Although, based on the way he made his sandwich disappear so fast, I guess it was the food that brought him here,” she said with a wide smile.
Guilt rushed through your body upon hearing this, because that's exactly what happened. But he seemed happy, maybe deep down he wanted to be here with his friends. They were so different from the ones you also hung out with, the F1 drivers and other celebrities. These were normal people, having normal conversations, acting genuinely and kindly.
You got lost in a conversation, but soon it was interrupted when she glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:55 p.m. It was almost time. She excused herself and left to fill flutes with champagne, and before you knew it, you were all standing in a circle, counting down to midnight. Charles was standing next to you, smiling so much that his nose crinkled in the cutest way.
Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
And just when you wanted to join the group as they said happy new year, you felt a hand on the back of your neck, then a few milliseconds later, before your brain could comprehend what was happening, Charles's lips crashed into yours. It was slow and soft, he definitely took his time with you as if you weren’t surrounded by people. And just as abruptly as it began, it came to an end eventually.
“It's in the law to kiss someone at midnight,” he said with a smile as he licked his lips.
For a while you were staring at him dumbfounded, but you managed to shake off this feeling and nodded after a short break. That’s true, it was a well-known tradition. Flashing a smile at him, you turned away to clink your glasses with the others, placing friendly kisses on their cheeks in the process, but Marie decided to pull you into a hug, treating you as if you had known each other for a long time.
It felt nice. Unlike at the party, here you actually felt like you belonged. Sure, you and Lando were really good friends, and yes, you knew many of his friends, but none of them was a close friend of yours. Yet, despite not really knowing Charles, the fact he was so relaxed and happy among his friends made you happy too. It was a contagious feeling, and maybe it was related to the warm welcome here that lifted your mood. These people were so different from the ones you were used to in your everyday life. It was charming, really.
You all sat down when someone pulled out a board game that seemed old and unfamiliar to you. But they were kind enough to explain the rules to you, and Charles even promised to help you throughout the game as he took a seat next to you. I only began to understand it around the third time we played it, so don’t be sad if you still don’t understand any of it by the end, he told you with a laugh. You returned his beaming smile, and in the next two hours or so you laughed a lot, argued a lot, and there was even some shouting when someone accused another of cheating.
By the time they packed up the game, you were so tired you couldn't fight back your yawns. You glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed it was past three in the morning, and you knew it was time to go home now, because even though fun’s fun, there's a limit to everything. The thought of your soft bed was inviting, like a siren calling for you from the distance, and the idea of spending the whole day in it was the cherry on top.
“Going home?” Marie asked you with her hand resting on your shoulder, her tired smile giving away that she was probably also debating calling it a day. When you nodded, she let out a defeated sigh. “I wish I could go too, but I promised my father I'd stick around and help him clean up a bit after everyone left.”
Without thinking much, you pulled her into a hug. “I'm sure you could convince him to clean up tomo–well, later today,” you finished with a laugh.
She leaned back to look at you. “And leave the dirty plates and glasses here? No, thank you. I'll just sleep a little longer, I guess,” she replied as she let you go.
Suddenly an arm landed around your shoulder, and based on the bracelets around the man's right wrist, it was a safe bet that the man was Charles. And sure enough, the driver's face came into view when he leaned into your field of vision. You watched him with a curious look in your eyes, but he didn't seem too interested in explaining what he wanted.
“I've already told this to your father, but thank you for hosting us, even though we arrived last minute without a warning,” he finished with a boyish smile before his green eyes turned to you. “But it's late, we'll head home now.”
Marie kissed his cheek, then she reached out to squeeze your hand as a goodbye. “It was nice to have you both here. You know you can jump in anytime. And you,” she went on, turning to you, “would better not disappear on me. Let's have lunch together someday.”
“Of course. I'll give you a call tomorrow when we're both fully awake,” you promised with a smile.
The two of you said goodbye to everyone, then stepped out on the street, standing next to each other in silence. It felt like you had suddenly run out of topics to discuss, although after some thinking, you managed to find something you could bring up.
“You could've stayed a little longer,” you told him as your eyes found his face again.
Charles laughed as he shook his head. “It's late, I could use some proper sleep too,” he admitted. As his eyes were focused on you, he bit on his lower lip and clearly thought about something. “Can I walk you home?”
“That’s a nice offer, but I already called a taxi. Thanks for bringing me here, though. I had fun,” you said with a wide smile. It was true, you couldn't remember the last time you had been to such a nice New Year's Eve party. Your phone pinged to tell you the taxi was arriving, and when you noticed the car pulling up, you stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight, Charles.”
“Sleep tight,” he told you quietly, but you could feel there was something else he wanted to say.
In the end, he remained silent, and you got in the car that took you home. As you sat there with your eyes taking in how magnificent this city looked tonight, you couldn't help but think about how the party turned out. It was nice to get to know him a little better, seeing a side of him that maybe wasn't as visible from the outside as one would expect. If you had known how fun he could be, you probably would have become friendly with him sooner.
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc#formula 1#f1#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#lando norris
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As a request, may I ask please for a reader running away from the Fatui debt collector and ending up by getting caught by Childe ?
The strong regard in which the Fatui held their contracts in could almost rival the nation of Liyue itself. By signing your name on the paper you signed off your entire life away, perhaps even your very soul if the situation or person called for it. The Fatui were rolling in mora and their Harbingers were some of the richest people to ever grace Teyvat. Their bankers know what they are doing, no penny is ever left unchecked and all of the clients pay what they are owed, no matter the cost.
You were one of those unfortunate clients.
On paper, their professionalism was okay, maybe even great if you're delusional enough. But everything came at a cost and you realized that the Fatui were only ever interested in keeping their side of the contract intact.
After mysteriously being laid off your job and losing every earthly possession you ever owned, you were left with no options other than to turn to the Northernland Bank. Despite its somewhat sketchy reputation there was also a decent amount of individuals who were quite pleased with the banks services, which is exactly why you felt all the more urged to go there. Everything was going smoothly for the first few months. You managed to pay rent and get some other basic necessities in order such as food and clothes but you were still far from the safe zone. You never managed to pay your debts on time which made the clerk at the bank frustrated with you.
"We can be kind to you only for so long." she'd say.
"Don't make the same mistake again."
You promised her that you wouldn't and you intended to keep that promise.
Unfortunately, life almost never plays out the way we want it to.
After weeks of endless job hunts, no one wanted to take you. It made no sense whatsoever! You had no criminal record, were always diligent on your previous job and had no enemies. Whenever you'd have an interview the people behind the counter would always be quick to shush you and tell you that they could not take you in. The last place you applied for, a small flower shop, was so quick to turn you down that it should be considered the world record. The moment you said your name out loud it was as if a switch was pressed and the owner switched gears entirely. Her demeanor went from calm and sweet to anxious and downright terrified as her entire body started shaking. She was beyond forceful as she shoved you out the door and told, no, begged you to not come back, ever.
In those brief moments you shared with the woman she became fear personified. You never understood why but right now that didn't matter.
Not when Fatui agents were pursuing you in the darkness of the night.
They were like the harrowing winter wind, sharp and swift. They barged into your home and demanded you pay what you owed unless you wished for more serious consequences to take place. The hooded agent pressed his large blade against your neck and his fire red eyes tore into you, daring you to make a move.
He was not expecting you to actually do something, let alone kick him in the shin.
A cryo mage and a hydro skirmisher were hot on your tail but you managed to quickly outrun them.
Panting, you hid behind a large pile of wooden crates near the harbor. There was little to no light aside from the stars, providing you ample cover against your assailants. This wasn't unfortunately only an advantage for you alone as they too could make use of this darkness. Not only were you outnumbered but also found to be completely and utterly defenseless. With little to no combat training and no vision to speak of, this endless chase became more and more unbearable. Options were also limited - keep hiding and make a run for it outside of the city but risk getting chased all over the content or come out of hiding and face the music.
Neither option was good. Death was all but guaranteed. The Fatui did not understand the concept of mercy.
That was a sentiment that the 11th Harbinger knew all to well.
He watched you from a window, ocean blue eyes tailing after every single move of yours. His chin rested on his hand while the other toyed with a white glaze lilly that grew close next to him, the soft petals providing him a much needed source of silly entertainment. In his eyes you were this glaze lilly - gentle, beautiful. Easy to break. It took him no effort whatsoever to tear your life to shreds and keep you docile. Tartaglia was a little bitter how you did not remember him back when you were younger, which might be the reason as to why he is being so harsh right now. He always liked to play rough and the sight of you shaking made his blood rush with pure and utter glee. Everything was going according to plan and he could not have been more satisfied. A wicked smirk danced on his lips as he ripped the glaze lilly from the pot, its green stem now firmly in his hands. A wave of determination came over the young man as he let out a quiet laugh to himself.
As fun as this was, he was done. No more games, he was going to have you.
It was time to step into the heart of the action.
Like an acrobat, Childe leaped out of the window and landed gracefully on both his feet, the bow on his back firmly set in place. His fingers twitched in anticipation as he creeped up closer and closer towards you. He was so quiet that not even a mouse could hear him.
It really wasn't your fault for screaming so hard, he thought to himself. Anyone would have gotten scared if someone just came up to them like that. As a matter of fact, he even found it kind of cute!
The shrill screams naturally caught the attention of the people he told to hunt you down and in a flash they stood before the two of you, panting but ready for action. The measley subordinates were, unsurprisingly, startled to see a Harbinger out in the open like this, prompting them to immediately lower their heads and bow deeply.
You were too caught up in your own paranoia to hear Childe mumble a quiet "You are dismissed." command to them. You trembled, fat tears caking your face as the ginger turned to face you, a small smile on his lips. He scared you enough for now, hasn't he? Reaching out towards you he held your quivering body, your face pressed deeply against his chest as you wept loudly. The grey fabric of his clothing soon turned a much darker shade due to the heavy tears but you could not care less.
Tired, you were so tired.
Despite having no clue to the identity of the man who held you so gently, there was absolutely no chance you were letting him go. You made your decision right there and then - snaking your arms around his thin waist you stayed like that as you let out everything out of your system, the pain, the fear and every other dark emotion which clouded your heart, all the while having no clue that your savior was the one who brought out all of this misery to you.
He could be a sadistic bastard, Childe knew this. He went too far in tormenting you and was most surely going to make everything up to you.
Right now though all he could do was sit on the ground and cradle you in his arms as his heart wept alongside yours, but with much different reasons than yours. He was a walking paradox, both the tormentor and the savior. All in due time though, you would grow to love it.
He would make sure of it.
🥀 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @yumekos-gamble, @mayulli, @cc-6789, @saturnalya, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss
#yandere#yandere x reader#yancore#yanderecore#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere aesthetic#genshin impact#genshin childe#childe x reader#yandere childe#yandere childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#genshin tartaglia#genshin tartagalia#yandere tartaglia#tartaglia#genshin#yandere genshin impact#genshin harbingers#genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin imagines#yandere genshin x you
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A Beacon in the Dark |2|
Pairing: Joey x Reader
Summary: Joey likes helping people, it's what she's best at. Hunting down the monsters of myth and legend might be the best way to save people.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3.7k+
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10
Ana made Caleb breakfast as usual, she helped him make sure all his stuff was in his backpack like usual, and she walked him to school like usual. She tried to keep everything as normal as possible, when she got back home the other night her note was still on the counter and Caleb hadn’t mentioned anything yet, so she assumed he didn’t wake up in the middle of the night. The only thing Ana did differently was she couldn’t help her eyes darting around constantly, looking for you or any more surprises, she also had her gun tucked in her pants, covered up by her shirt. She was supposed to be done with the type of life they would involve her carrying around a gun, especially when she was with her son, she couldn’t believe she was considering your job offer.
Ana couldn’t deny that she was curious. She was struggling to find a job, ideally, she wanted something in the medical field she knew that wasn’t going to happen though. The only way she’d be able to continue helping people that way would be to keep being an underground doctor, but that very thing was what led her to getting captured and almost killed by a vampire. She wouldn’t be able to continue to make enough to live off of if she only helped specific people or didn’t do big injuries where she could potentially kill the patient. She was clean and she had no intention of slipping, but she didn’t want to give herself the opportunity to fuck things up again.
“I have a job interview today,” Ana said as the school got within eyesight.
“Cool,” Caleb mumbled.
“I’m not sure how long it’ll take but I should be done in time to get you from school.”
Caleb just nodded. Ana held in a sigh; she didn’t need Caleb to be excited for her, but he was acting like he didn’t expect much from it. She couldn’t really blame him; he’d seen her spend every day applying and getting rejected by jobs. When Ana did get an interview, she always came home already knowing she wouldn’t be called back.
“See you later,” he mumbled before running off and catching up with his friends.
Ana opened her mouth ‘I love you’ on the tip of her tongue but she didn’t bother finishing this time, she knew Caleb wouldn’t hear it anyway. She stood at the entrance until the bell rang, signaling all the kids that it was time to get to class. She waited there until all the students had filed inside and she finally lost sight of the top of Caleb’s head. Just as she turned around to walk away you pulled up in a Jeep.
Ana rolled her eyes, when you said you’d pick her up after she dropped her son off, she didn’t realize how literal you meant it. You had clearly been watching her, you knew where her son went to school and what time it started, your timing for pulling up was perfect, too perfect. She glared at you when you rolled down the window, smirking at her, your eyes were once again hidden behind sunglasses, but she knew your eyes were on her.
Ana flung open the door and jumped in the passenger seat. “If you try anything, or if this is a trick in anyway,” Ana turned in her seat, glaring into your eyes despite the sunglasses. “I will shoot you.”
“And a good morning to you,” you said, not losing your smirk as you turned to face the road again. You checked your mirrors before pulling out and began driving to wherever you were taking Ana.
“I’m serious,” Ana continued to glare at the side of your head.
“I brought you a coffee,” you looked down at the coffee in the cup holder. “I got it black; you didn’t seem like the type to want a bunch of sugar and crap in it.”
“Do you think I’m joking?”
You let out a small chuckle, but quickly covered it by turning it into a smile. Ana wasn’t sure if you were just that arrogant or what, she was tempted to shoot you just to prove to you she would. “I assure you; I am well aware you’re not joking.”
“So, do you just have a death wish then?”
You let out a humorless chuckle. Ana made a note of that, she had been joking, half joking, but it almost seemed like you did have a death wish. “You’re not going to kill me,” you said confidently. “You’re incredibly capable of that.” Ana raised an eyebrow. “But you won’t kill me, not if you don’t actually have too.”
“Where are we going?” Ana asked, rolling her eyes.
“Out of the city,” you said simply. Ana’s eyes widened; she told Caleb she would be back in time to pick him up. “Don’t worry, you’ll be back before your kid gets out of school.”
Ana snapped her gaze to you, narrowing her eyes. “How’d you know I was worried about that?” There was something about you, something Ana couldn’t quite pin, she knew you weren’t a vampire, there was nothing to indicate you were something more than human, but Ana had a feeling. You knew so much about her, what happened during her last job, about vampires, about her son, and just now, you knew what she was worried about. It wouldn’t be a completely crazy leap to think you could read minds.
“I’m not a mind reader.” That certainly did nothing to disprove Ana’s theory. “You love your son,” you shrugged. “It’s clear you’re trying to makeup to him, you don’t want to let him down.”
Ana continued to stare at you, you nailed it, she didn’t like it when others could read her just as well as she could read them. You continued on driving though, never once glancing at her. She wondered what made you tick, if you were always this calm or if it was only for her. You read her so well the night before, despite having a gun pointed at you, you knew she wouldn’t shoot you. It was the same as today, you knew Ana had a gun on her, you had to have, yet you were relaxed and driving as if the two of you were on a road trip out of the city.
The trip continued until the two of you were well out of the city, driving down a two-lane road lined with trees on both sides. It was a gorgeous drive; however, it was also out in the middle of nowhere. Ana didn’t know who you were, where you were taking her, or who you were taking her to, the only thing she knew was that you wanted her for a job, but even with that you had been vague on. The woods were thick enough that if you took Ana out there, she could be lost forever, no one would know what happened to her.
You turned on your blinker, turning down another paved road. Ana furrowed her brow until, finally, you passed a mansion, it had a long driveway, completely fenced in, and the large house sat all the way back, well away from the road. After a few more minutes, you passed by another mansion, with a similar layout. The mansions in the middle of nowhere reminded Ana of the one Abigail lived in, the place her last job took place, where everything happened, but these mansions didn’t look run down and abandoned.
You kept driving down the road, passing mansion after mansion on each side every few minutes. Ana couldn’t imagine living in a place like this, giant houses, with who knew how many rooms, several minutes apart from the next house. There was complete and total privacy, one could hardly consider them as neighbors with how far apart they were.
You finally turned down the driveway of one of the mansions. After slowly coming to a stop in front of the large metal gate, the gate was all stone and metal, the tips of the fence pointed so that if anyone were to climb it, they’d most definitely injure themselves. You rolled down your window, staring at the little box without saying a word. A second later there was a loud grinding sound and the gate slowly slid open. You rolled your widow back up and continued driving forward, the gate closing almost instantly after you crossed the threshold.
Ana shoved her hands in her pocket, fiddling around with the candy she had shoved in there. She debated for half a second before grabbing a piece of candy, quickly unwrapping it, and shoved it in her mouth. She caught you glancing at her out of the side of your eye, but you didn’t say anything. Ana straightened her back and continued to stare out the windshield as you continued to drive up the long driveway. Her mouth fell open, nearly losing her candy in the process, as the mansion fully came into view. The house was newer than the one Abigail had, but much bigger. Ana couldn’t imagine living in a house so big, she could imagine having to decorate that many rooms.
You pulled the car around, coming to a gentle stop right in front of the front steps. Ana glanced at her watch; it had taken nearly an hour to get wherever you had taken her. “We’re here,” you said, smiling at Ana before jumping out of the car.
You ran around the car, pulling the door open the rest of the way after Ana opened it. You held out your hand to help her out. She rolled her eyes, stepping out of the car and walking right past your outstretched hand. Ana ignored the small sigh you let out, choosing to continue walking up the steps and waiting for you at the front door. You quickly closed the car door and ran after her, smiling at her as you stood in front of her again. She raised an unamused eyebrow at you.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re just delightful when being interviewed?” you asked, smirking.
“I’m here for your boss,” Ana said, giving you a tight-lipped smile. “I don’t have to be anything to you.”
You let out a small hum and then put your hand on the door handle, giving Ana a mischievous smile before allowing the door to swing open. You made a dramatic gesture with your arm, allowing Ana to enter first. Ana walked through the door, turning in a circle as she took in the high ceilings and the various art and weapons hanging on the walls. Ana jumped, whipping around when she heard the large wood door slam shut. She eyed you as you walked away from the door, she hadn’t forgotten that the last time she was in a mansion, she got locked in and nearly died.
“This way,” you said, nodding your head for Ana to follow.
Ana followed you through a room, then down a long hallway. The mansion was massive, it had items in every room and on every wall, it almost didn’t look lived in though. Everything was clean and perfect but as they passed a sitting room Ana couldn’t imagine someone had ever sat on the couch or any of the chairs in the room, though there were shelves lined with old books, their spines worn from age or years of being read.
You came to a stop outside another rather large wood door. You gave a small knock, but you didn’t wait for whoever was on the other side to acknowledge it before opening the door. You held the door open, allowing Ana to step in first once again. Her eyes widened as she took in the room, unlike the rest of the house, at least from what she had seen, this room had a blonde woman sitting at a desk with five computer monitors in front of her, the wall behind her was plastered with various images, sketches, and newspaper clippings of monsters or reports of strange happenings, from all over the world. Off to the right was a peg board on wheels, with the same thing, news paper clippings, online articles and social medias posts printed out and pegged on, though unlike the wall, the board seemed to be all about the same event, in the same place.
The blonde woman stood up, stepping out from around the desk. Ana looked her up and down, she was wearing some jeans and a simple jacket. If Ana had seen the woman walking down the street, she would never have imagined she lived in a mansion and had the type of money she must have.
“Ana Lucia Cruz,” the woman said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she held out her hand. “My name is Grace.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ana said, giving Ana’s hand a shake. So far, she liked Grace better than you, so she was considering the meeting a success for the moment. “And I would prefer Joey, if you don’t mind.” Grace tilted her head at the request. “For privacy reasons.”
“Of course, Joey,” Grace nodded, giving her a kind smile. “Please, join me,” she gestured to the other side of the room, leading Joey to a set of chairs next to a small table.
“Thank you,” Joey took one of the seats while Grace took the other. You moved to stand behind Grace on her left, as if you were her own person bodyguard. “I have to say,” Joey said, shaking her head as Grace offered her a cup of tea. “You have much better manners than your,” she flicked her gaze up at you, “associate.” Your only response was a smirk.
“What did you do?” Grace turned to you, exasperated.
Joey silently chuckled at the way your face fell. “You asked me to recruit her,” you said, pointing at Joey as you tried to defend yourself.
“Outside my son’s school,” Joey added. “Right after I dropped him off.”
Grace shook her head in disappointment. “How else was I supposed to do it!” you gestured widely with your hands. “This is the first person I’ve ever tried to bring in.”
“No, one else does this?” Joey asked. She figured there weren’t many people in this line of work, but she didn’t expect you and your boss to be the only ones. “Well, don’t I feel special,” she mumbled.
“You are special,” Grace said, leaning forward. “You survived something horrific, something unnatural.” Joey looked up, meeting Grace’s eyes, she saw determination, but she also saw compassion staring back at her. “Not many have the capabilities to survive something like that, it takes a particular kind of person to see a darkness like that and not runaway.” Grace leaned back in her chair. “That’s exactly the kind of person we’re looking for to join our cause.”
“Your cause?” Joey raised an eyebrow. “Y/N told me you experienced something similar to me.”
Grace tensed up, glancing at you out of the side of her eye, making you cast your eyes down to the floor like a scolded child. “I have, it’s why I do what I do. I don’t want anyone to suffer what I-what we have.”
“And you, what, just have so much money you don’t know what to do with,” Joey shrugged. “So, you might as well pay people to go fight the supernatural?”
“I mean it is the one thing that Le Domas fortune is good for,” you mumbled.
Joey’s eyes snapped to you the same time as Grace’s but for vastly different reasons. Your eyes widened as if you just realized you said that out loud. “Le Domas?” Joey whispered. “I recognize that name.” She rifled through her memory; she didn’t know the Le Domas family, but she knew she had heard of them. Her eyes widened when she realized why.
Joey shot out of her seat so fast, reaching behind her to grab the gun in her pants as soon as she was on her feet. “Don’t,” you said. Joey froze, slowly lifting her eyes to see you standing in front of Grace, in the line of fire.
Joey slowly took her hand off her gun and raised it, showing you her hands were empty. Joey wasn’t one to scare easily but the way your voice changed, the look in your eyes, Joey had missed judged you. You had been friendly with every interaction, to the point it was irritating. However, seeing you stand in front of her now, she saw it, the look in your eye, you would not hesitate to kill her if it meant protecting Grace.
“Guess you really are her guard dog,” Joey mumbled. She didn’t take her eyes off of you, she noticed the way yours darkened at her comment.
“It’s okay,” Grace said. She stood up, resting a hand on your shoulder to ease you back. It took a second, but you slowly relaxed and moved to stand behind Grace again.
“Whatever you think you know,” Grace said softly. “I promise you, it’s not even close to the truth.”
“Everyone knows the story of the Le Domas family,” Joey said, trying to relax again. She didn’t want you to see how on edge she was. She thought her guard was up before getting in the car with you, that was nowhere near to how on alert she was now. “A very rich, very prominent family, all dead, their bodies in pieces, and it all happened on their youngest son’s wedding night. They couldn’t prove she had done it, though everyone suspected, considering she came from nothing, and they were rich beyond imagination.”
Grace rested her chin on her hand as she nodded at Joey’s words. “They made a deal with a demon,” Grace finally whispered. “I thought I was marrying the love of my life and getting the family I always dreamed of,” she gave a sad smile, letting out a humorless chuckle. “Then they tried to kill me.” She looked back up at Joey again.
Joey slowly sat back down; she saw you take a step back, looking back down at the floor again. “It was a thing of theirs,” Grace continued. “If you married into the family you had to play a game, if you picked Hide and Seek then you hid, while they hunted you down,” she was staring off into the distance, seeming to be talking to herself more than anything. “If they didn’t kill you before sunrise then the whole family was going to die, that was the deal they made with Mr. Le Bail, he was the reason they had their fortune to begin with and in returned he required a sacrifice.”
“And you were…” Joey started but she wasn’t sure how to finish her sentence.
Grace nodded. “I married Alex, then that night he and his entire family tried to kill me,” she gave Joey a sad smile again. “Clearly, I survived,” she looked down at herself. “Mr. Le Bail allowed me to live and though their investigation was thorough, there was no evidence I had killed the entire family, so, since I was technically the last living relative after my marriage, I got everything,” she shrugged.
Joey nodded; she thought her night trying to survive a ballerina vampire had been bad. She couldn’t imagine thinking you were marrying the love of your life only for him to try sacrificing you to a demon his family made a deal with. “And now you use their fortune to help others.”
Grace nodded. “I try, figured the money should go to doing some good.” She cleared her throat, blinking away the tears that had seemed to begun to fill her eyes. “I also use it for payment, it’s how I pay Y/N for jobs, it’s how I could pay you. I assure you, the job may be dangerous, it may be shady at times, but the money is legit.”
Joey nodded, taking all the information in. That was one of the things she was worried about. It didn’t matter how much she could be making from a job, she still had to go through a process to make sure it wasn’t traceable and that it looked legit. Grace’s money was legit, she could pay Joey no problem and Joey could just have it go into the bank, no questions asked.
“And what about you?” Joey asked, looking at you. “What’s your story?” she tilted her head, waiting to see what kind of answer you gave this time.
Even from a distance Joey could see the way your body tensed up at her question, but you looked up, meeting her gaze. “Werewolves,” you said simply.
That piqued Joey’s interest, but it was clear you weren’t going to elaborate anymore. “Look,” she sighed, slumping back in her chair. “I admire what you want to do but I-”
“One job,” Grace said, leaning forward in her own chair. “We can call it a trial run,” she smiled. “On both sides, we can see how you do, and you can see exactly what we do, you can see if this,” she gestured around the room. “Is something you want to be a part of.”
Joey opened her mouth ready to reject the offer, even though she was tempted. “You’ll still get paid of course,” Grace said quickly. “Just one job, just see what we’re all about.”
Joey stared at Grace for a second, she could see the woman hardened by the trauma she experienced but she also saw compassion, someone who wanted to help others despite everything she had been through. Joey flicked her gaze to you, she didn’t know how you came to be with Grace but your loyalty to your boss was clear, she also saw underneath all the jokes and banter was someone incredibly guarded and trying to atone for something in their past, though Joey couldn’t image what for.
“Okay,” Joey said, looking back at Grace. “One job.” Grace smiled at that, which Joey couldn’t help but return. Joey had been curious ever since you approached her, she wasn’t sure she fully knew what she was getting into just yet though.
Taglist: @thinking1bee
#joey (abigail)#joey abigail#ana lucia cruz#ana lucia cruz abigail#joey (abigail) x reader#ana lucia cruz x reader#abigail 2024#abigail movie#abigail#ana lucia cruz (joey)#melissa barrera#a beacon in the dark
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don’t ever tell a male SA survivor; “You’re supposed to enjoy it”
don’t ever tell a male SA survivor; "good game/job"
don’t ever tell a male SA survivor; “You’re a boy, you can’t get raped.”
don’t ever tell a male SA survivor; “that doesn’t count.”
don’t ever tell an SA survivor; “What were you wearing?”
don’t ever tell an SA survivor; “Did you close your legs?”
don’t ever tell an SA survivor; “They’re family, they wouldn’t do that.”
don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “I don’t believe you.”
don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “I know them, they wouldn’t do that.”
don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “You’re supposed to enjoy it.”
don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “We’re you leading them on?”
don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “We’re you rude?”
don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “You’re an adult, toughen up.”
don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “it doesn’t count.”
don’t ever tell a SA survivor; “it’s your fault.”
don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “but you don’t act like it.”
don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “But they seem so nice.”
don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “They’d never do that.”
don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “She’s a girl, girl’s don’t abuse.”
don’t ever tell a male DA/GA survivor; “Boys can’t be abused.”
don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “But you have no scars.”
don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “You’re just making things up for attention.”
don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “you should’ve just fought/yelled back.”
don’t ever tell a DA/GA survivor; “It’s your fault.”
don’t ever tell an attempt survivor; “that’s selfish of you.”
don’t ever tell an attempt survivor; “I’ve had it worse/i know someone who has it worse.”
don’t ever tell an attempt survivor; “that doesn’t sound like an attempt.”
don’t ever tell a POC; “you’d be way prettier with lighter skin.”
don’t ever tell a POC; “but you don’t look american?”
don’t ever tell a POC; “you should try skin bleaching.”
don’t ever tell a POC; “oh, are you in a gang or something?”
don’t ever tell a POC; “but your skin is so light, you can’t be colored.”
don’t ever tell a POC; “can you give me the N word pass?”
don’t ever tell a POC; “your hair is distracting”
don’t ever tell a POC; “go back to where you came from.” [whoever says this, i live in your walls]
don’t ever tell an albino; “you’re white, not black.”
don’t ever tell an albino; “so are one of your parent white or something?”
don’t ever tell an albino; “you’d be prettier if you were normal.”
don’t ever tell an albino; “oh has anyone tired talking you limbs or something” [i will hunt whoever says this]
don’t ever tell a child; “you should take care of your siblings.”
don’t ever tell a child; “he hits you/is being rude because he likes you”
don’t ever tell a child; “you have to hug them!”
don’t ever tell a child; “it’s your fault we’re divorcing”
don’t ever tell a child; “you’re too old to be doing this.”
don’t ever tell a child of divorced parents; “it’s your fault”
don’t ever tell a child of divorced parents; “pick a side”
don’t ever tell a child of divorced parents; “did you ever consider that you should’ve stepped in?”
don’t ever tell a child of divorced parents; “well if they never got together in the first place, they wouldn’t have had you”
you never know what a person is going through and don’t you dare shame a person for something they can’t control.
if you say any of these things you’re disgusting and you need to not only get educated but stop being a dick.
keep in mind that i am aware that these prompts don’t apply to everyone of a certain minority. But this is me teaching to simply be kind and pay respect and mind to a person’s experiences, minority, etc. there are multiple prompts that can be added but I will refrain to using those out of respect, and also due to censorship.
#sa awareness#sa#domestic violent relationships#sa survivor#sa survivors#domestic abu5e#DA#abuse awareness#poc#colored life’s matter#colored lives matter#black lives matter#person of color#albino#albinism#child abuse#child abuse awareness#mental health awareness#mental health#child of divorce#divorced parents#this is all to spread love and education#i hope someone finds comfort and reassurance in this#if anyone wants to talk about literally anything#don’t hesitate to reach out#my heart to goes out to everyone reading
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Womanhood | Dean
Summary: Dean helps to comfort you during your time of the month, without much experience about periods, he tries his best.
This is a little different to the actual request, I hope that’s okay! I’ve tried my best to replicate it though :) Let me know if you want Sam’s/Cas’s version too!
Based off of this request here, thanks!!
Word count: 1,134
Warnings: some swearing, not loads!
♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱
This morning, you woke up with the most unbearable pain, cramps that felt like your appendix had ruptured. You groan in pain, hoping it would subside soon. You clutch your belly and slowly get out of bed. Your alarm clock flashes 7:39am, and you let your head fall. “I love when I have no sleep,” you mumble to yourself, letting out a huff. Looking behind you, Dean isn’t passed out, snoring so loud it would’ve probably woke you up anyway. You hold your belly and walk out toward the kitchen.
“Morning,” you grumble, and Dean turns around from the stove. His face lit up seeing you at the doorframe, your hair a mess and in one of his spare Star Wars t-shirts and your own pyjama shorts. “Someone’s looking rough.” He jokes, noticing you’re not smiling back. “Aw honey, what’s wrong?” He asks, his smile quickly fading. The smell of breakfast hovers over you, like it’s mocking your morning sickness. “I think I’m coming on my period today…” you say, and Dean turns round to face you, letting the eggs and bacon sizzle quietly on the stove. Toast pings out of the toaster at the same time. “Are you sure you’ll be okay for today’s hunt? If you’re in pain, I’m sure Sammy and I will handle it fine.” He genuinely looks concerned, as if you haven’t had plenty of periods before. It hurt like hell, sure, but you could manage just fine. Along with the fact that periods can make you super emotional and/or angry, you were certain it could come in handy when killing a couple of monsters.
“I’ll be fine Dean, honestly. I want to come with you both.” You smile, leaning over the counter top. Dean nods in agreement. “It’s always fun having you around. If you change your mind just let us know, okay?” He shoots you a quick grin before turning back to the stove, plating up your breakfast. “Where’s Sam?” You question, usually he’s already by the table reading his favourite book or getting ready to go out for his morning jog. “I think he went for a shower, I’m not sure.” Dean spins round and passes you a plate with 2 slices of toast, egg, bacon and hash browns. “Wow, this looks really good, Dean. Thank you.” You smile warmly at him, and he returns the gesture.
♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱
Your rapid breathing causes you to hunch over and rest your hands on your thighs, you take a deep breath. “God damn…” you say, looking up at Sam, who’s right in front of you. “What a kill!” You chuckle to yourself, wiping your hair out of your face. You stand up, giving Sam a high-five. “Good job, Y/N. It’s like you don’t need our help.”
“I know, right? I’m just that go-“ “Y/N! Watch out!” Sam cocks his gun and tries to shove you out of the way, a sudden loud bang shocks you as you feel something sharp pierce your skin abruptly. You fall over, Dean rushing to your side. “I’ll cover you, Dean, make sure she’s okay!” Sam quickly checks back at you, noticing blood is pouring out of our calf.
“Fuck. Y/N, are you okay? Does it hurt?” He panics, shuffling over to apply pressure on your leg. He rummages in his pocket for a handkerchief and immediately applies it to your wound, he rushes to whip his belt off and tie it tight enough around your leg to hopefully stop the bleeding. You can practically see the fear in his eyes, and you laugh quietly.
“What’s so funny, huh? Almost dying?” His hands shake, trying to keep the pressure on your leg at all times.
“I’m not gonna die, Dean. It’s just a gunshot. Stop worrying,”
You place your hand on his, and he gazes at you with so much worry. His gorgeous hunter green eyes comfort you, even though he’s feeling the complete opposite. You pull your hand up to his face and caress his cheek, he finally shows some sign of calming down. It’s like his whole body relaxes by just your touch. “I’ve honestly felt worse.” You joke, slowly moving your body to sit up. You wince, feeling cramp in both of your abdomen and your leg. “Help me get up,” you say, and Dean pulls you up, anchoring you from underneath, your arm draped behind his back. “Let’s get you home.” He says, catching his eye on Sam, making his way back inside.
♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱
It had been a few hours since you arrived back at the bunker, you lay across the sofa, clasping your belly as the cramps still hadn't subsided. Your leg, however, had been patched up neatly by Sam, and were given some painkillers for it. It didn't seem to work that well.
"How're you feeling?" Dean pats your foot, walking past the sofa to perch himself on the very little space left on the armrest. "I feel like I've been shot in two different areas," You try to joke, but it only makes Dean glare at you, waiting for a real answer.
"Could you get me some period pads, or tampons, please? Either work," You state, trying to sit up. "Uh, yeah, I can do that. What... size?" Dean looks puzzled, which only makes you smile. "Regular, Dean. Get the ones with wings."
Dean stands up and gathers his thoughts. "Pads with wings. Tampons with wings. Got it. I think." He places his hands on his hips and looks to the ground, then to you. He smiles lovingly. "I'll be right back." He says, before grabbing his flannel and exiting the door.
♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱
An hour or so had gone by, and you hadn't moved from the sofa. your cramps have worsened to the point of also giving you a headache. You hear the door open, then close. Dean's back from the store, and he's got a white carrier bag full of items. "I'm back," He chuckles, "Got you a few things." He walks up to the sofa, laying the bag on the coffee table next to you. "Oh, Dean, you didn't have to..." You trail, as he takes out chocolate, a small teddy bear with a t-shirt that reads 'Get Well Soon' with a small red heart underneath it. He had also bought you the pads that you had asked for, aspirin, fresh bandages for your leg and a small bunch of red roses.
Your smile gleamed as your eyes met his. "You really didn't have to." Your voice almost a whisper, and he moves closer to you. "I know, but I wanted to." He smiles, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.
"Thank you." You say, reaching your hand up to the nape of his neck, pulling him in for one more.
#supernatural#spn#supernatural imagines#spn imagines#dean winchester#dean winchester imagines#sam winchester#sam winchester imagines#supernatural imagine#dean x reader#supernatural dean#deanxreader#dean#dean winchester imagine#sam winchester imagine#sam x reader#dean winchester x reader#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester fanfic#spn x reader#supernatural x reader#spn imagine
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best mistake
summary: you're new york's hero: spider-man. your roommate peter is the brains behind it all and the love of your life and he doesn't even know it. pairing: tasm!peter parker x male reader word count: 1.6k warnings: unprotected s3x, blowjobs, casual hooking up. a/n: i'm back? (based on this amazing prompt)
masterlist | more peter parker
Peter hears a loud thud from his window. It was dark outside, the clock on his desk reading past midnight, the city more quiet.
He peers on the glass, a dark figure resting its head on the pane. He gently lifts the window, your body slumping on his arms, your face bruised and bloody. He carries you to the bed, your suit all tattered and dirtied. Peter runs to the bathroom to get a basin of warm water and a towel.
He takes his time to wipe the blood from your face, gently wiping it on your soft skin, and brushing your hair away from your face. His eyes wander to your face, a familiar one, a face he’s seen ever since he was a kid, but now much older.
He takes the medical kit under his bed, gently moving you so he can remove your ruined suit. His calloused skater hands brush your chest with the damp cloth, scrubbing away the dried blood crusting your wounds. He applied a salve on some of the cuts to prevent infection, the bigger gashes he stitched.
The two of you have been doing this for eight years now. You, the web-slinger, protector of the city, while Peter, the brains behind your crusade. He came up with the idea of making the web-shooters, his bio-engineer degree with your experience as a research scientist in aerophysics helped hand-in-hand in keeping the city safe.
You turned in your sleep, groaning from the pain. “Hey, easy up tiger your wounds are still fresh,” he said, helping you prop yourself up on his bed.
“How long have I passed out?” you said, noticing your suit was pulled down to your waist.
“Just a couple of minutes,” he said. “Saw you on the TV.”
“Yeah, that Electro guy short-circuited my web-shooters,”
“About that, I sketched up a new prototype that could be resistant to his attacks,” he said, gesturing at his messy table with his new creation. “I also made some tweaks on the web fluid, I increased the tensile strength so they can withstand greater velocities.”
Peter’s eyes glimmered as he talked about the new shooters. Your mouth lifted into a smile as he continued to ramble. “What do you think?” he said, “Did you even listen?”
“Yeah—increased tensile strength blah blah,” you uttered. “How’s the job hunt by the way?”
“Terrible. I did sell some pictures to the bugle,” he said. “Jameson gave me $350.”
“$350? That’s not even enough for groceries and the electricity bill.”
“Well it’s better than nothing,” he said, taking his glasses off. “I saw Gwen earlier.”
Oh. Peter’s high school ex. You diverted your gaze away from his, finding the city lights outside the window was a distraction. You felt your chest tighten, your heartbeat much louder.
For the fifteen years you’ve known Peter Parker, you’ve also fallen in love with him. The two of you have shared some casual encounters here and there but you knew it was never serious. So the idea of him meeting his greatest love made you uncomfortable.
Peter noticed the way your attention left his, your eyes hooded as you stared far away. He noticed your hand clutch on the sheets, your jaw clenched. “She got engaged recently,” your muscles relaxing. Oh, you said. “Yeah, to some rich socialite from the Upper East Side.”
“Good for her,” you whispered.
“Have you thought about something like that?”
“Marrying a rich man?” you chuckled.
“No, just marrying,” he uttered, the corner of his lips lifting north. His fingers trace your skin, drawing circles. You let him.
“Not at all. I guess I’m gonna be broke my whole life,” you try to get up, your back betraying you. You stagger for a bit, your hand finding Peter’s shoulder for stabilization. He stands as well, his large hands around your bare waist.
Your breaths were close—too close. You could feel his heat, his warm musky scent, his brown eyes set on yours. He bends his spine so he can reach your face closer, his pink lips hovering off yours.
You pull back, clearing your throat in the process. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”
“Yeah, sure,” he coughs.
You walk to the kitchen, holding onto your wounded torso. Peter’s eyes dropped to your underwear-clad ass, his cheeks blushed from the shame. Stop ogling your best friend Peter.
You find the fridge bare of any beverage, you turn your head back to see Peter staring at your ass, his face absent of any expression.
“Stop staring at my ass!” you shouted, throwing a kitchen cloth at him. “Plus, where’s all the beer.”
“I was not!” he shouted back. “And I think I drank all of it.”
You let out a sigh. You found a can of Coke on the bottom shelf of the fridge. You jumped to sit on the kitchen counter, your legs dangling off the linoleum countertop. The liquid sizzles as you chug it, the brown syrupy consistency dripping from the side of your mouth to your bare chest.
Fuck it. Peter walks to the kitchen, joining you. “If you want to seduce me you could just say it.”
“Seduce you?” you laughed. “And why would I do that?”
Your legs wrap around his waist. He takes the can from your hand, drinking the rest of it before placing it on the counter. “Because you’re like that, always making sure I can see that ass around,” he whispers to your neck.
Your head falls back from his kisses, your hands spread behind you for stability. He pulls your underwear off, your erection pointing north. He licks a strip underneath, you shudder from the sudden sensation.
He wrapped his long fingers around it, stroking it with his saliva, the only thing you could let out was a moan. He lifted you up the counter so your legs were mounted on his shoulders. He takes his digits inside his mouth, lubing it before pressing it into your hole.
“Fuck,” you moaned.
“Feel good, huh?” he said. His fingers curl up inside you, teasing your sensitive spot. Your body winces from the sensation, your legs automatically closing on his head. He strokes your erection again, simultaneously stimulating your prostate. The combined sensation made your legs weak, and your arms almost collapsing. “To be honest, you’re the only one I do this to, Spidey.”
“Liar,” you let out a groan. “I know you kicked yourself over and over for not bagging Gwen.”
His grip on your cock tightened, his fingers went deeper. “Aw, are you jealous of her?”
“You lost your virginity to me asshole,” you whimper. “I get to ride that dick, not her.”
“Ride?” he chuckles. He pulls back, his hands wet with spit. “Go at it then. Ride me.”
The two of you were in his bed now. Peter sitting on the bed as you sucked him off. His hand found your head, running it through your hair. “Fuck baby,” he moans.
Your head bobs on his tip, your tongue licking around his head as you take him in. Your free hand was stroking his length, it was long enough that it was actually difficult to take him all in your throat.
“Fuck the blowjob, just ride me please,” he whimpers.
“I was preparing it you dick,” you said. “I can’t fit all that without some lube.”
You straddle his legs, aligning his tip against your hole. Your hands find his broad shoulders for support. The two of you moan from the contact. You hole slowly taking his length in. Peter shuddered from the warmth enveloping his erection. He cursed, he could cum from this alone.
You looked beautiful, Peter thought. Your hips moving against his sex, your eyes lidded, and your mouth agape, the sweetest moans leaving your lips. It was a sight he could look at forever. He takes your faces to his lips pressing them together. You let out soft whimpers, Peter blushes from the sounds.
“It’s too fucking big,” you groan.
“You can take it, baby, please, do it for me,” Peter moans.
He was a mess, you thought. All sweaty and red. He didn’t have the enhanced stamina you had. Your hands fall on his toned abdomen, your fingers finding the ridges underneath his shirt. You moved your hips up and down his length, your brows furrowing from the amount of pressure on your behind.
Peter stroked your erection as you continued riding him. His mouth was agape as your eyes locked on each other. You pulled him to you, your arms around his head as you quickened your pace. Your hips gyrated on his cock with such swiftness Peter’s cock felt like it was being bombarded with so much stimuli he could combust into flames.
“Shit, I’m close–”
“Me too, Peter,” you moan. “Cum in me.”
“You sure?” he said. You nod against the whimpers.
Peter rocks his hips against your ass, gripping onto the mounds of flesh. Your body draws out the pleasure from him as you move your hips. He could let out curses, pleading for release. From the same beat of your movement, the two of you let out your climax, your own release covering his torso as he filled you.
You lay in bed catching your breath. “This was probably bad for your stitches,” he said, his brown hair drenched.
“Yeah, I think I tore it again,” you breathed heavily.
It was probably a mistake. For you to continue this charade with Peter. To exchange bodily pleasure knowing your heart beat only for him, but it was a mistake you were ready to commit over and over again.
interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>
#peter parker smut#peter parker x reader smut#peter parker x male reader smut#the amazing spiderman#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker x male reader#tasm!peter parker x male reader smut
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Summary: Paul phases and hurts the reader… angst asf
(We gon pretend they have clothes when they shift back 🫡).
Watching anger rack through the person you love is painful in itself. It’s worse when that anger is directed towards you. Sometimes the littlest things set him off, ruining his steak of not having a outburst. Paul’s main focus point was safety, your safety specifically. If anyone were to challenge the comfort and safety of his girl, it wouldn’t be pretty. The same thing applies when his girl wants to walk into a house full of dangerous people. You just wanted to help the past two weeks Paul has told you to stay at Sam and Emily’s till he got back. Yes it’s true there is a vampire out there but it’s not hunting you. It’s hunting Bella. All you want to do is take some of the work load off of Paul by conversing with the Cullen’s and seeing what their plan is. It’s almost like you can feel the exhaustion in Paul’s bones as he fights sleep when your talking. The whole pack is in Emily and Sam’s house planning, and eating all the muffins. Paul is sitting on the arm of the couch beside you listening intently only turning away from Sam to offer you a bite of his chocolate muffin. You shake your head no, you make the decision this is the best time to bring up your idea. You stand up from the couch watching Paul instinctively straighten up as you move. “Guys I was thinking, now that Jake can’t talk to the Cullen’s (Edward is pissed at him) I should….go talk to them” you say in a mutter but everyone hears. Paul is already standing up with a scowl on his face about to speak before Sam beats him to it. “Like over the phone?”, Sam says pulling Emily into his side securely. You fidget a little under everyone’s eyes peering through you. You knew that Paul was getting frustrated waiting for you to finish before he speaks his mind. “Umm… no”, Paul rushes out the front door shoving past Quil. It’s silent for a moment then the slam of the screen door makes Sam sigh shaking his head. “I’ll think about it”, you nod with a shy smile before stepping around some of the boys to make it outside as well. His shoulders rise stiffly and his lip quivers as he tries to calm himself down. He feels so enraged that you even considered risking your life like that, especially by the likes of the Cullen’s. He starts to shake even more when he sees you walk out of the house, the only thing on his mind is losing you. You stand in front of Paul with a worried expression, your arms folded over your chest. “Look Paul, I just want to help. I’ve seen how exhausted”, Paul cuts you off quickly a animalistic sound rumbling through his chest. “That’s not your job, never will be. So don’t”: Paul takes another deep breath, he’s still shaking thinking of you getting hurt. Paul has always been a hot head so it doesn’t surprise you completely that he’s getting fired up. As Paul’s imprint your presence is supposed to calm him down him down in a matter of seconds. Instead he starts to shake more, you can only think of one thing when you realize. Am I really his imprint? Can you lose a imprint? These questions make it hard to think so what you say next isn’t the most thought through comment at all. “I understand why your mad Paul. I do. But what are they gonna do? Drink my blood? Kill me?” you say not believing it yourself. Paul takes a tiny step back and his breathing becomes more erratic, his teeth grits together uncontrollably. He tries his hardest to get it under control, but his muscles start to tighten and his body whips around quickly. Not for one moment did you think Paul was capable of hurting you. So there’s no need to move right? Just talk to him he will be ok… that’s what Sam said to do. “Paul calm down”, he keeps whipping around and his growls sound more and more animalistic, “PAUL” you yell and then it happens. You were only five feet away if that, that distance wouldn’t be enough to protect you, not for a second. Maybe it was fate for this to happen, don’t the ancestors have this happen for a reason? Nail scratch down your left arm, so quick you thought you had imagined it.
But blood flows down your arm, dripping off your finger tips and onto the once green grass. It takes a good 3 seconds for Paul to realize what had happened, he caused you to be in pain. He forces himself to shift back and kneel next to you, right where you collapsed. So many things ran through him in that moment, blood loss? Fear? …she’s scared of me. His hands shake but not out of anger out of absolute terror, he picks up your arm coating his hands in blood. Then it hits him, he’s not alone he can help you. Paul holds pressure on a part of your arm in attempt to stop the bleeding, the blood flows just as quick as his tears. “SAM, please please, SAM HURRY” he screams and the screen door slams again and the boys as well as Emily run outside. Sam runs towards you to examine your arm, pushing Paul slightly to the side to get a better view, he immediately starts ordering the rest of the group to get supplies. Emily stands out front one hand touching the long scar across her face, while tears spill out of her eyes. Paul isn’t in a good state his hands find the sides of your face shakily covered in crimson blood. “I’m so sorry honey. I’m sorry” his voice cracks while his thumbs move across your cheekbones, a action you adored. It feels like it’s been hours of grief, crying, terror but it’s only when Sam uses that commanding voice to talk to Paul that he starts to grasp time again. “Paul I need to carry her in”, Sam says a arm already under his legs. Paul shakes his head no quickly saying the same reply verbally as well, Paul slips a arm under your head and legs hoisting you up. He walks you inside the house laying you down on the guest room bed. Paul kneels beside the bed holding your hand only looking at your face for roughly a hour, till the room door creaks. He doesn’t move, he’s not even curious who’s standing in the door way they don’t matter. They aren’t her. “Paul I’m here to check on her”, Paul stands up quick enough to startle Carlisle. “Get. Out.”, Carlisle turns his head slightly to look at Sam for guidance. Even Sam is unsure what to do. Carlisle decides to be bold and approach you, a growl leaves Paul. So protective everyone in the living room is stunned by the volume it reaches. Carlisle backs up and enters the living room again talking to Sam to see if they patched you up properly sense he cannot see for himself. Paul stares at the door way for another second before kneeling next to you again, taking your hand for many more hours to come.
#paul twilight#paul lahote#paul lahote x reader#paul lahote x y/n#paul lahote x you#wolf pack#twilight#twilight paul#angst
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NSFW prompt #4 with Dante please
warnings: mentions of wounds, reader is a demon hunter, smut, rough kissing, nudity, Dante being Dante
It's tough to keep up with Dante and his twin as they hunt demons. You're good, as you've been doing it for years, but nowhere near as legendary as they both are. Not to mention, you don't have the healing factor that they do. So you often have to be on your guard. Dante has mentioned it multiple times before that he worries about you whenever you go hunt devils with him and Vergil, but you always remind him that you've been doing the job for almost as long as him.
This particular devil happened to be tricky. He was an incubus, which played to his favour when it came to you. As the twins saw him in his true form which happened to be an ugly, wart-covered toad, you saw him as a charming prince with jet black hair and a killer smile. Still, you did all you can to not let that deter you from helping to win this battle.
You figured you were doing well with dispatching all the smaller devils, but it's while you were distracted that the main one attacked you. One large slice of his katana, and you were down for the count. Blood dripped from the wound in your shoulder and your shirt was pretty much done for. You rushed away from him, bleeding more than you'd like.
"Shit!" Dante yells in frustration, and he rushes over to you. Vergil is quick to end the devil, and he takes care of things.
With Dante now by your side, he kneels down and holds you close. He places his hand on top of yours and applies pressure. He kisses the top of your head.
"Do you see why I don't want you coming with us?" He asks, a little ticked off that you'd so willingly place yourself in danger.
You whine softly, "Dante, I'm fine."
Vergil watches the two of you, then he manages to call Nero and Nico to come pick you all up with the van. You'd be fine, but there was no way that Dante would be allowing you to come on any devil hunting trips in the near future. Once you're safe in the van, Dante has you wrapped up in his coat to keep your dignity protected. It doesn't take long for you all to make it back to Devil May Cry.
Vergil recognizes what this signifies for his twin, and he tells the rest of the gang to stay back. They leave you both to enter the office. Dante sets you down on the couch and he begins mending at your wounds. In no time at all, he has your wound bandaged up. He then tells you to rest.
As you sleep, Dante removes the rest of your clothes. He inspects your body for other wounds, but he is very relieved to find that you're okay. Then he places a soft, warm blanket on top of your naked form and he goes to fetch you something else to wear when you wake up. He's less worried now but he has a lot of regrets about letting you come with them.
Slowly, you begin coming to. It's been few hours but with Dante's help, you'll be right as rain. You sit up and gasp when you realize you're naked. He's sitting at the desk, a dirty magazine in his hands. You begin looking everywhere for your clothes, but you don't find them.
You get up on your feet and march over to Dante, and he smirks when he sees that you're stark naked. A small blush creeps over your face, but Dante only beckons you over. You try to say you'd like to get dressed, so he gestures to his own clothes he brought down to you.
"You could wear my clothes. Yours got ripped to shreds, baby." He smirks at you once more. He then pats his thigh and you climb onto him. "Or you could stay naked. That would be nice, as much as I like to see you in my clothes."
Your lips meet in a frantic and rough kiss. The risk of losing you has made him needy. His hands soothe over your body, making sure to be gentle when it comes to your wound. It's not long before he has your thighs spread and he presses his own thigh between your legs. You moan as your clit grinds against his thigh.
"Isn't this much better than hunting demons?"
You had to admit, it was better than hunting demons. Way better.
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