#AND WHY IS CHARMING ALWAYS CHEATING ON SNOW???

[piraterefrigerator]

why is all the captain charming fanfic smutty I literally just want it to be wholesome one time

[norikuna]

(JUST MEET ME AT THE) APT! — gojo satoru minors dni. art by chitrartum on twt.

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (a) and let the show begin !

prologue. → your ex, that sleazy and no-good scumbag won't stop posting tacky mirror selfies on instagram, arm around his fellow cheater-in-crime. so, christmas eve finds you morose in a dodgy dive bar. why not tumble back into bed with that random, gorgeous stranger you just met?

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. never drive, no matter how little alcohol is in you folks!!! never!!! making out, creampiè, hooking up with a stranger, ovèrstimulation, mildly rough sèx, gojo won't tell you what his job is

word count. 9.4k! song inspiration. apt — rosé & bruno mars

a/n. reader lowkey a hater, i love vanilla vodka eggnog </3 i said i was gonna post on 02/12 and i kept my word, literally rushed to finished this before my clinical exams in the cardiac ward 😭😭😭😭😭😭 hope y'all stay healthy. your future surgeons are writing gojo smut on tumblr.com

mp3. don't you want me like i want you, baby? don't you need me like i need you now? sleep tomorrow, but tonight, go crazy. all you gotta do is meet me at the apartment (아파트) !

you think your friends would kill you if they knew this was how you were spending christmas eve. not at some glittering holiday party, nor tucked away in a snow-dusted cabin. but here, holed up in a dimly lit bar with an atmosphere so questionable it should come with a warning label alongside a health and safety audit.

the place had charm, if your definition of charm included scuffed floors, a jukebox stuck on 'last christmas' and a string of blinking lights that looked like they'd been thrown at the walls rather than hung. still, you'd swiped a couple of minty candy canes from a jar near the door, which felt like a win.

your phone sat resolutely off in your bag. self-preservation. no instagram, and no tacky mirror selfies from your scumbag ex with the same smirk he'd worn a month ago when you caught him cheating. with someone who had always been 'just a friend, babe!' you weren't keen to let that ruin the rest of the night, though if you were being honest, you had already let it ruin a good chunk of the month.

"another christmas vodka...sour, please," you squint at the messy chalkboard above the bar, where the christmas specials were scrawled in what would barely pass for handwriting.

the bartender gave a single, surly nod. he looked as though he'd rather be anywhere but here, preferably somewhere free of customers nursing post-breakup bitterness like a fine wine.

and so, you found yourself staring at the tall glass now sitting in front of you, studying the rosemary sprig that swayed lazily in the translucent red liquid. a few cranberries bobbed among the ice cubes like they were on some tiny festive raft.

"woah, that one's way too strong for me."

the voice interrupts your private session of wallowing. you turn your head, slowly, to take in the culprit. he-who-hath-disturbed-the-peace. a man sitting close enough to be annoying, but not close enough to invade your personal space.

it takes you a moment to process the stranger, mostly because of the brain freeze from your ill-timed gulp.

"i mean, it's not bad," you shrug, hoping to sound neutral enough that he leaves you be. but then because you just can't leave well enough alone, you gesture at the specials board, "better than...that, at least."

you jab a finger at the chalk-scrawled abomination: vanilla & peppermint vodka eggnog.

the man frowns, a sharp but somehow charming movement that's overshadowed by the dim lights, "hey, i ordered that one."

you blink like a startled bovine, before breaking into a laugh, "my bad. i'm sure it's really fuckin' delicious."

the stranger chuckles too, a soft and low sound that seems more genuine that it has any right to be, "i hope so. otherwise, this is gonna be a long night."

the man finally shifts, casting aside the dim shadows that lay over him, into the blinking string lights. broad shoulders framed by a dark, tailored jacket that hugs him like a second skin. his hair, startlingly white, was pushed back by — wait, was that a blindfold?

you stare longer than you should have, trying to piece the odd sight together. a cosplay? a k-pop idol wannabe, hoping to get recruited for the next bts tour? perhaps, he was blind, hard of sight? you start to open your mouth, wondering how to phrase the intrusive and awkward questions, but he beats you to it.

"i can see you just fine, y'know," he says, his tone laced with amusement.

your cheeks burn at the realisation that he's caught you gawking shamelessly. so you quickly turn back to your drink, suddenly very interested in the cranberries floating in the glass.

the bartender returns, sliding the stranger's drink onto the counter with an audible clink. it was the most obnoxious cocktail that you'd ever seen. a martini glass filled with frothy, pale liquid and crowned with a cinnamon stick that jutted out like the mast of some ridiculous holiday ship.

you watch, mildly horrified, as the man picks up the glass and downs half of it in one confident gulp. he sets it down a satisfied sigh, and a smack of his glossy lips, and you wrinkle your nose involuntarily at the sight.

"i swear it's good," he says with a laugh, catching your expression. his grin is wide, playful. and you find yourself smiling back despite your sour, gloomy mood.

he has a nice smile, you note. not forced nor smug, but genuine. framed by pale pink lips that curl up in an easy, natural way. it was strange though, to look at someone without seeing their eyes.

"i'm gojo, by the way," he offers, his voice smooth and lightly amused once more, as if he'd caught you studying him again.

your gaze drops to his hands, long and slender, tracing the rim of the martini glass. something about the way they move — elegant and deliberate, hold your attention a moment too long for propriety. you quickly snap your focus back to his face, "what brings you here, gojo?"

gojo shrugs, and you can almost imagine him rolling his eyes beneath the blindfold, though you doubt his ire is directed at you, "work, i guess. or maybe i just got bored of going to work."

"they're working you hard, yeah?" you ask, trying for sympathy. employers loved squeezing their workers dry during the holidays. your own boss was proof enough of that, running the office like a sweatshop for santa's unpaid elf labour.

"something like that," gojo says with a scoff, the corners of his mouth quirking up again, "what about you? what brings you here? it's christmas eve, isn't it?"

you sigh, the weight of gauche embarrassment suddenly pressing down as the words spill out before you can stop them, "my ex-boyfriend cheated on me."

gojo's lip curls, the kind of expression that balances perfectly between pity and disgust, "that sucks," he offers. profound and wise, you have to agree as he continues, "you jus' find out or something?"

the question makes you cheeks heat, and you fiddle with the edge of your drink, "no, i've known all month." you gesture vaguely towards your purse, where your phone sat like an unsealed pandora's box, "but he posted...on instagram. and stuff. i'm still, y'know, getting over it."

gojo makes a thoughtful clicking noise with his tongue, "ah, see, i don't do social media. but that sounds rough."

you let out a weak huff, "yeah, well...now i just feel like a loser. my friends told me to go out and have fun, and here i am..." you trail off, downing the rest of your cranberry vodka in a single, decisive gulp. the sting hits your throat, sharp and sour, and you grimace at the burn.

gojo frowns slightly, leaning in just enough that you can hear how his voice softens, "i don't think you're a loser." the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, pulling your gaze back to him, "it's fair to wallow."

his words hang in the air, and you find yourself smiling, albeit thinly, "that's...really nice of you to say."

gojo hums thoughtfully, "i meant it, i promise. but i can't exactly say i've been there, never really dated anyone."

you blink, openly gaping at the man, "really? you're joking."

it was hard to wrap your head around that. even with the odd blindfold, everything about him screamed 'pounce-worthy'. the broad frame, the charming smile, the striking white hair that looked like it belonged in a kérastase commercial.

gojo laughs at your incredulous expression, "same old work and stuff," he explains with a casual shrug. then his grin fades, tone shifting just enough for you wonder why that feels as though the clouds have covered the light of the moon outside, "always got in the way."

"at least you never had to deal with a breakup," you offer, trying to find some weak, silver lining.

gojo frowns, his pale complexion now tinged with a faint red flush that even the dim bar lights couldn't disguise. was he really that much of a lightweight, or was the eggnog's amaretto content deceptively boozy?

he sighs dramatically, "a friend once left me outside a kfc in shinjuku. then he became a murderer and a cult leader. that felt like a breakup."

"huh," you murmur, staring at the man with a mixture of amusement and faint alarm, wondering if you'd seen any cult leaders on the evening news lately. no, nothing save for the occasional incorrect weather report, a friendly good-looking priest running some scam association, and news reports about an octopus that could predict the lottery, "that's - well, okay..."

you couldn't quite tell if he was joking or not, but gojo seems to shake himself free of the odd reverie. he's running his hand through his shock of white hair, and his grin has returned, slower and a touch softer, "still, your ex must've been crazy. letting go of a pretty girl like you?"

the words land with surprising weight, considering they come from a stranger in a sleazy bar, but it leaves you momentarily stunned. you can feel a blush rising to your cheeks, your heart doing an embarrassing little flip before you manage to get a grip on yourself.

"wow," you laugh, feigning composure as you sip the last remnants of your drink, "smooth."

gojo's smile is wider now, "hah, i call it like i see it," and his lips now curl upwards as he leans in, "and i'm serious. if i had someone like you..."

you laugh again, but this time it's far more unsteady. you wonder if the cranberry vodka is playing with your head, "big words for someone who's never dated. should i be impressed, gojo?"

gojo's chuckle is a deep sound that vibrates in his chest, "i know a good thing when i see it. you don' need to date to know what you want. and i think i want you."

your stomach does a little flip, and you feel all rationality being pounded out of you just from staring at his unfairly gorgeous hands rest on sturdy thighs, "you do flattery well, i'll give you that."

"oh, i don't know about that," gojo says, fiddling with the stem of his glass, "but what'dya say we get out of here? how about my place?"

you blink slowly, and you're aware that your heart (and...nether regions) have already composed an answer before your mind has, "what if you're a serial killer? you're not about to silent night, deadly night me, are you? you haven't killed someone have you?"

for a moment, the man stills but then gojo leans back, "smart girl. asking the right questions. but no, i can at least promise that i'm not a criminal."

you hesitate just for a beat, the words lingering on your tongue, before you let out a breath and shrug, "fine. where's your place?"

"azabu," gojo replies without missing a beat, his tone smooth, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

you gape once more, blinking as you try to process the information. azabu? as in tokyo's ritziest neighbourhood, where a one-bedroom apartment could cost you more than most people's yearly salary? the kind of place where the floors are made of marble, and everyone's shoes are more expensive than your entire wardrobe?

gojo, ridiculously handsome despite looking like a circus runaway, too charming for his own good, and not the type you'd expect to find in a cheap downtown dive bar. definitely not on a christmas eve, at least.

for a split second, you wonder how a man like him even ended up in a place like this. maybe it's some kind of self-imposed penance. or he likes to keep things low-key when he's pretending not to be rich? maybe he's looking to cosplay a succession character?

whatever it is, it's working. not only does gojo have a face carved from marble, now you've got a solid ticket into seeing what a neighbourhood for the top one percent really looks like beyond it's wealthy exterior. maybe, you'll bring back a souvenir.

you wonder whether there's a group of small emotions standing around inside your head, inside-out style. glaring at you as if you're incapable of making good and rational decisions.

well fuck that, you gather yourself and shrug off the small wave of nerves, and loop your purse strap around your finger, "alright," you say, "let's get out of here then."

you don't miss at how the adam apple of gojo's throat bobs for a second, before he downs the rest of his drink in one go, "let's get outta here then."

you follow him out into the cold, your breath fogging in front of you as you try to focus, but the man is tall, like ridiculously so. but when you reach the curb, he turns to face you again, a frown marring his face.

"so, i have a small confession."

i changed my mind and i find you repulsive.

i was paid by your ex to do this, and now i've done enough to get my money.

i'm a serial killer.

you don't know which possibility is worse, "huh, a confession? what is it now?"

gojo chuckles, lifting a hand to the back of his neck, as though he's about to spill a dark secret into the night air, "i don't have a car."

"you've got to me kidding me. how'd you even get down here?"

gojo shrugs, a casual and almost lazy movement. and you feel your gaze lingering on his shoulders. broad, impossibly wide, the dark jacket hugging him in all the right places, like it was tailor-made to showcase just how much he filled it out.

"someone dropped me off. ages ago," like it was the most normal and rational explanation in the world.

your own laugh is short, a little disbelieving, but you pull your silver keys from your purse, "well, i guess i'll have to drive then. but what would you have done if i hadn't been here to save the day?"

gojo steps to the side, opening your own car door for you with a small flourish and exaggerated bow that makes your heart jolt again, "probably teleport back home. maybe fly, since the skies look clear."

what a weird guy. hot, but weird. he seems like the type to dress up with a fake beard and show up as gandalf at the next lord of the rings fan convention.

in the driver's seat beside him, you catch yourself staring too long. your gaze slipping over a model's jawline, the white of his hair being held up by the blindfold. even his vaguely expensive scent is disorienting, pleasant like pine and blackcurrant. but it's also hard not to be amused when he's furrowing teeth into plush pink lips out of concentration, pressing an address into your cracked gps screen.

well, merry christmas to you.

gojo's place is well...how do you say this? gorgeous doesn't quite begin to cover it. he leads you into the building with the ease of someone who knows every inch of it, tossing a casual smile over his shoulder as he swipes a key card to unlock the private elevator, "i tend to move around a bit. or stay in different places. keeps life exciting, don't you think?"

you step into the elevator alongside him, the polished mirrors reflecting the soft glow of gold accents and sleek, modern lines. his hand hovers over the control panel before he presses the button for the top floor. of course, it's the penthouse.

"you move around a lot?" you ask, arching an eyebrow, "what, like a restless billionaire or something?"

gojo smiles, leaning casually against the steel as the elevator begins its smooth ascent, "now you're exaggerating."

the elevator finally dings, and gojo steps aside, offering an exaggerated bow as he gestures for you to exit, "after you, my fair maiden."

you almost scoff at the ridiculousness of it, but there's something so endearing and charming about how he pulls it off, especially when paired with the unfair symmetry of his face.

floor to ceiling windows dominate the far wall, revealing a jaw dropping panorama of tokyo's skyline. the city stretches out in a glittering sea of lights, with the tokyo tower glowing a golden exclamation point against the velvet night sky. the interior is just as impressive, with polished wood floors that gleam in the warm light and a glass dining table that sits beneath a sculptural chandelier. that same faint scent of blackberry and pine lingers in the air, heady almost.

behind you, gojo strolls with an easy and languid grace, tossing his jacket onto an artisan leather armchair. beneath it, his sky blue dress shirt clings just right and rolled up to reveal forearms faintly dusted with pale hair. you think you've momentarily forgotten how words work, and you avert your gaze quickly. though not before catching the faint smile on his lips.

"not bad, huh?" gojo says, heading to the open kitchen as though he's unaware of the effect he's having on a rational and sensible mind such as yourself, "it's no dive bar, but i'll do."

you shake your head, bewildered. trying to process how someone you met in a dingy bar could live somewhere that looks like it belongs in architectural digest. even down to the odd, ancient looking pieces that scatter the wide living room. weird looking artifacts of some sort. maybe he's also a collector? go figure.

"not bad?" you repeat, incredulous, "gojo, this place is incredible."

the man laughs, opening a sleek fridge to grab a bottle of water, "i have good taste," he says with mock modesty, his tone teasing as long fingers twist off the cap, "and a thing for gorgeous views. though, between you and me, i'm not great with heights. ironic, i suppose. paying a fortune for a view i'd rather not get too close to."

he waves a hand vaguely towards the windows, the blindfold still firmly in place.

"so, what's the deal? did you win the lottery, or inherit a fortune. or are you some kinda secret agent who moonlights as a barfly?"

gojo lifts the bottle in mock toast, "let's just say i'm very good at what i do."

you arch a brow, crossing your arms and ignoring the warm flush creeping up your neck, "and what exactly is that?"

"oh, you know. standard stuff. international intrigue, thwarting evil creatures. i even saved a kitten from a tree the other day."

"right, because nothing screams the next member of the avengers like eggnog in a seedy bar."

gojo leans casually against the counter, "even the avengers need a holiday drink now and then. don't knock it." but then he gestures towards the sleek couch, "wait, you can make yourself comfortable, y'know. i'd hate for my guest to think i'm a terrible host."

"terrible host? no, but a mystery man —"

before you can finish, your foot catches on something hard, and you stumble forward with an undignified yelp. gojo reacts instantly, how does he move that fast, and his arm is shooting out to steady you. but glorious gravity and magnificent momentum has other plans.

both of you crash onto the couch, and you find yourself sprawled unceremoniously across his lap. gojo's laugh rumbles low in his chest, and you can feel the warmth of it underneath your palms as you steady yourself, "well, that's one way to get comfortable," he murmurs, voice teasing as his large hand lingers lightly on the curve of your waist.

you prop yourself up slightly, cheeks burning, and glance back at the offending object. your brows knit together when you spot what looks suspiciously like a katana gleaming under the soft light.

"did i just trip on a — hey, what the hell is that?"

gojo interrupts, smoothly extending a long leg to nudge that suspicious object under the nearby coffee table before you can finish, "nothing important," he says breezily, the motion so quick you almost think you imagined it.

his focus shifts back to you, almost guilty, but his fingers are pressing divots into the fabric of your top, "now, where were we? hi."

you blink, caught off guard by how strange it is to feel the searing heat of someone's gaze underneath a blindfold, impossibly intent, "hi yourself," you manage.

for a moment, neither you nor the gorgeous man under you move, and the world feels strangely airless.

but your fingers twitch against the fine linen of his shirt. and before you can second-guess yourself, you reach your hand up to the edge of the silk fabric over his face and you ask, "can i take this off?"

gojo tilts his head, like it's a genuine consideration and you catch the faintest flicker of hesitation. it's fleeting, replaced by a crooked smile as he nods, "go ahead, sweetheart."

your hand rests lightly on the silk, hesitant for only a second before tracing its way to the back of his head. your fingers brush through impossibly soft strands of white hair, and his breath hitches when you find the knot tied neatly to the base of his skull.

you wonder what manner of man gojo is, letting himself be stitched undone by a stranger. but with care, you undo the knot, working deftly and clutching the fabric as you pull the blindfold away.

the blindfold slips free, and for a moment, you're certain you've forgotten how to breathe. bright, piercing blue eyes. framed by thick white lashes blink up at you. the intensity of such an unearthly gaze is softened by something more vulnerable, almost shy. nervous even.

"wow," you murmur without thinking, the word spilling out as gojo's expression shifts, an unguarded openness replacing the playful smirk that you've seen all evening.

your earlier assessment echoes in your mind: k-pop reject wannabe. the recent memory now feels like quite the injustice, a careless slight against a face that defies easy description. each detail of his face is striking, as if some divine hand had taken special care to sculpt him from the fabric of time and space itself.

gojo seems to sense your analysis, and you're sure that he's parted his lips to speak, but whatever he was about to say falters. that faint flush, pale-red like vermillion watercolour bleeding across a canvas, blooms across his cheeks. gojo's hazy gaze flickers for a second, and it sends a thrill through you. he's affected by this, by you.

it's hard to resist the slow smile that curves your lips, light and playful if only to mask the way your own heart is racing, "are you seriously shy now, gojo?"

gojo's expression shifts again almost immediately, as if that subtle invulnerability has been replaced by something sharper, almost indignant. he sits up a little straighter, the movement making you acutely aware of how the hard planes of his body feel beneath you.

"shy? no," gojo says, his voice steady but edged with some need to defend his honour, "i just...don't usually do this. that's all."

there's a sincerity in his words, an almost begrudging honesty that takes you by surprise. you tilt your head, as your murmur, "i don't either."

before you can second-guess yourself, you tilt your head down. pressing your lips to gojo's in a featherlight kiss. his taste is intoxicating, honey and sweet grapes mingling with a hint of that ridiculous vanilla drink from earlier. you pull back almost as quickly as you leaned in, testing the waters.

but your breath catches when you see that the blue of his eyes has deepened, darkened. and his lips, pink-blush and slightly parted, form a quiet and stunned oh!

"cool," gojo manages, his voice rougher than you expected, and you bite back a laugh as you watch him swallow hard.

"huh, cool?" you echo, your amusement bubbling over, "that's it? that's all you've got?"

gojo's grip on your waist tightens, and his hands are now splayed over your spine. anchoring you to him, as his mouth curves into something sly, though his flushed cheeks betray his composure, "compliments to the chef?"

you shift slightly, pressing more of your weight firmly into his lap. though not yet close enough to situate yourself over his groin, delighting in the way gojo's blush spreads down his neck, staining his skin a shade reminiscent of ripe berries swirling in cream.

you can feel gojo's attention as much as you can see it, how his own gaze lingers, deliberate and unhurried. taking you like a masterpiece that deserves more than a cursory glance. the hand that had been steady on your back shifts, his fingers threading through your hair. he watches as the strands slip and fall beneath his touch.

"thought you said you wanted me, gojo," you tease, though you're certain your voice is betraying the way your pulse is doing its best impression of the macarena in your jugular, "are y'gonna do something or not?"

gojo's gaze snaps back to you, a flicker of something far more intense passing through those impossibly blue eyes. full of hunger, need even. the hand in your hair slides away, only to settle at your jaw. it's warm and steady, his thumb brushing slightly over the plush of your bottom lip.

"i do want you," gojo says, his voice low and steady and maddeningly genuine, "want you to kiss me again. and again. as many times as you want until i forget my own name."

"gojo —"

"satoru," he interrupts, his voice cracking slightly, stripped of any previous swagger. it's unsteady and raw, affected in a way that excites you. sends a dark heat curling low between your thighs, "you can call me that."

"satoru," you repeat softly, letting the syllables fall from your lips, unfurling in the most hazy way.

something within the man shifts. his hand tightens on your waist, dragging you closer in a way that punches the air from your lungs. right over -

oh. the thick, curve of his erection straining against slacks that probably cost more than your monthly salary. it's deliberate, almost desparate at how the invisible thread snapped inside him. unravelled the careful composure he's been clinging to until now.

"go on," gojo murmurs, his voice dark with need, "kiss me again, please."

you lean closer, eyes flickering to his lips, and your pulse roaring in your ears, "who would i be to deny you any wish, satoru?" the words come out more reverent that you'd expected, as if your entire world has been tilted off its axis.

and then you kiss him, hard. desparate. as if his lips are your birthright, a homeland to claim. and gojo's kissing you back, carrying a sweetness that seems both foreign and familiar. in an instant, the weight of another man, a dreary haze in your past, vanishes. gojo is suddenly everything you didn't know you needed, vibrant and electrifying.

"let me know if it's too much," gojo breathes against your lips, his voice shaky as if he's trying to tether himself to the earth. but your kiss deepens, frantic and unrestrained. his mouth moves against yours with a hunger that sends sparks down your spine, and you suddenly realise you quite like the taste of vanilla when it's dripping from his open kisses.

you pull away, for every human needs air. but the sight before you has you clenching your thighs desperately around the bulge where you sit atop. gojo's gaze is heavy, full of that desparate longing that makes your chest ache. his lips are swollen, a soft cherry hue from your kisses. and strands of white hair fall over his blue eyes.

"look what you've done to me, fuck. miss you already," gojo murmurs, and before you can respond, he surges forward, hands pressing against your face with the intensity of a storm. one hand reaches to find the nape of your neck, letting you surrender to the heat of this touch.

you crave more, so much more from gojo, who's taking you in like you're his last breath, his final indulgance. it's as if he's found a new devotion in you, ready to worship you at the alter of your false godhood. but before you can part your mouth to tell him exactly what you and where, gojo's hands are already sneaking under your top, brushing against the trembling skin of your torso.

his teeth are biting down on your lip, leaving you dizzy. and gasping, and so damp in your panties as the fabric of your top is peeled away, and you're left shivering, fighting against the cold of the december air. you find yourself pressing harder into the warmth of his chest, letting the swell of your chest press flat against him.

"shoulda' turned the heat on before we came in," gojo murmurs, breathless as his lips hover a mere centimetre away from yours, "got nothin' to worry about, sweetheart. i'll keep you warm."

"didn't t-think i'd spend christmas eve like this," you gasp, your head lolling to the side as gojo presses open-mouthed kisses to the soft arc of your neck, sensitive even to the cool air.

"no?" gojo's reply is breathy, almost frantic as if he's fumbling in the heat of the moment and has little grasp over the words tumbling out of his mouth, "neither did i. but this? b-better than any fuckin' mission they could've sent me on."

you cock your head, feeling the heat of his clothed cock underneath your thighs, "m-mission, huh? what are you talking about - mmph!" but the rest of the question never escapes your lips for it's swallowed up by another one of gojo's candied kisses.

his rough hands work deftly, finding the clasp of your bra with ease. a pretty crimson thing, almost sheer as it caught the light. and in the centre, a tiny satin bow sat like the final touch on a perfectly wrapped gift. you had only worn it half-heartedly earlier in the morning, some forced christmas cheer for your dreary day ahead.

the look on gojo's face was anything but composed, staring at your cupped tits like you'd knocked the air out of him and his chest rose and fall as though he were remembering how to breathe. in a single fluid motion, your bra is unhooked. the faint metallic click barely audible over the pounding in your chest and he's tossing it aside with a casual flick, his focus entirely on you.

you find yourself mesmerised by his eyes, those swirling pools of blue that seem to have stolen fragments of the sky itself, clouds brushed into cerulean depths with strokes of syrupy smoothness. they're breathtaking, but the thought shatters as gojo's canines graze the flesh of your breasts, a sharp and teasing nip that pulls a gasp from your lips. leaves you rocking sharply against his erection, making him throw his head back, ragged.

the playful string blooms into a flush of heat, and gojo's at it again, his mouth working to leave faint red marks in its wake. you squeal, half in surprise and half in helpless laughter (and entirely in a lusty haze) but gojo only pulls back enough to murmur, "what? can't help myself."

but then he peers at you abruptly, his lips parted as he catches his breath, "wait. do you wanna —?" and gojo tilts his snowy hair towards the shadowy doorway that leads out of the living room, the implication clear even through his panting.

you nod, breathless, "yeah, jus' help me up."

without hesitation, a strong arm slides around your waist, and before you know it, you're being swept into a semi-bridal carry, and your head is resting against the fabric of his dress shirt. not a bad feeling, one you could get used to.

at the doorway, gojo lets out a low 'shit!', nudging the door open with his foot. the faint sound of clattering follows as he kicks something out of the way. you glance down from your entirely too comfortable vantage point, spotting a smattering of cheap tinsel, all glittering in metallic silver and gold, tangled with round baubles that glisten faintly under the dim light.

some have little smears of glue, and uneven glitter patches, as if crafted by unsteady hands, but with earnest effort.

"you big on christmas or something?" you tease, delighting in how the tips of his ears light up like nose of a famous reindeer.

gojo freezes for a moment, almost sheepish as he clears a path, clearly trying to look as macho as possible as he gingerly pushes aside a string of green lights, "made those for my students," he mutters, "thought they'd like them in the classroom tomorrow."

your laugh grows louder, and gojo's brows furrow, his tone growing defensive, "it's a nice surprise for the classroom!"

"i'm not making fun of you!" you insist, leaning up to press a gentle, soothing kiss to the hollow of his collarbone, "it's sweet. i think it's really nice, actually. wait, you're a teacher?"

gojo's mouth quirks up in a faint smile, "something like that," he says cryptically, finally clearing a decent and hazard-free path into a sleek, and clean bedroom. it's all modern space, all clean lines in shades of cream and white, and navy.

gojo sets you down gently, and the plush fabric cradles you as your back lands on fresh linen. and for a quiet, tender moment, you're both caught in the stillness. gojo kneels at the edge of the bed, his hands resting lightly on each of your thighs as if he's anchoring himself there.

his gaze is steady, content, maybe even adoring in a way that feels too intimate for someone who you barely know. there's a warmth in his expression, like he's savouring the sight of you, searching for something — and he's found exactly what he's hoped for.

almost without thinking, you lift a hand, cupping the sides of his face. his skin is warm beneath your palm, soft with the faintest hint of pale stubble that seems to fade into his skin. the moment your hands makes contact, gojo leans into your touch instinctively, his white lashes fluttering closed.

"hey, 'toru," you murmur softly, "y'still with me?"

gojo's eyes snap open at the sound of that, sharp and bright, as if the nickname itself has sparked a challenge in him. a low and almost frustrated sound escapes from the back of his throat, and he presses a feather-light kiss to the inside of your knee.

you don't miss at how his teeth sink into his bottom lip again, worrying and working the plush flesh like he's trying to steady himself. spreading your weeping thighs aside, as his gaze is fixed on something. intense, unwavering. the sheer focus of it making heat creep up your neck.

at how he must be staring hungrily at damp, sheer red fabric that clings to the outline of your cunt. at how it must shimmer almost translucently now, the sticky slick of your arousal enhancing the gloss, making your panties glisten under the light.

you're feeling an unfamiliar kind of shy under the weight of his attention, at how he must see how the fabric clings closely to your puffy, swollen folds — the delicate weave exposing the shape of your taut pussy, practically weeping for his touch.

you needn't have asked, for gojo was already diving into deliver.

he's gliding his index finger over your dripping pussy, letting the tangy syrup sink onto his fingers, leaning in to press a sweet, almost innocent kiss to your clothed cunt, "she seems desperate for me, don'tcha think, heh?"

the sound of the fabric ripping is sharp and wet, a squelching and almost fleshy tone, a sound that's both soft and sharp to the blood rushing between your ears. a strained tear of your beautiful panties, leaving cool air to gently leave a kiss of its own upon your cunt.

you gape at him, a bit too stunned to find coherent words, "hey, what the f-fuck! those were like super expensive!"

gojo rolls his eyes, the kind of look that has a bit too much attitude for someone who's practically begging on his knees for a taste of you, "don't get all huffy on me, sweetheart. 'm gonna buy you more, is tha' alright?"

"i'll r-remember that, satoru," you murmur, giving a sharp tug at his white strands, "you gon' have to give me your number now."

gojo shudders, the muscles in his back rippling underneath his tight shirt, "was already gonna," and he's back to pressing soft, kitten licks to your now exposed folds, small circles over your throbbing clit.

you buck your canting hips closer to the heat of his mouth, to where the pink tip of his teasing tongue peeks out of a pretty mouth, "satoru, c'mon. can't you just, fuck—"

you sharply cry out as he presses his mouth forward, a sudden surge of heat jolting through you. burying himself deep, his nose brushing against the sweet, syrup that coats your pussy, and the rhythmic, wet movements of his tongue send shivers through your entire being.

"mhm, jus' as sweet as you look, baby," gojo gasps, swirling and flicking his tongue, teasing you with every deliberate patter of the muscle near your winking entrance. so messy, slick and you're not sure where he ends and you begin as it all glides together carnally.

gojo seems languidly tipsy, just from munching through the gloss of your cunt, far more intoxicated from your taste than any cheap christmas liquor. he alternates between pushing his tongue past the ring of your tight walls, and then wrapping his lips around the searing pulse of your clit, leaving your hips shaking and dragging over his mouth, smearing yourself over his chin.

you're fisting delicate white locks with fierce urgency, and he hisses and then chuckles into your pussy, "tch! ease up there for me, yeah? jus' move your hips like you were doin' before," and you comply, angling yourself better so he can flatten his tongue against your folds, jaw grinding deeper into you "hah, yeah, just like that."

"taking good care of you though, aren't i? wait, say it. say that 'm making you feel good," and he's bullying a long finger into your gummy walls, clingy and sopping, "say 'm making you feel better than a-anyone ever has," and you just mewl as your arousal must surely be dripping down his forearms, staining the cuffed sleeve of his shirt as he takes your sweet juices down his throat.

there's stars beginning to twinkle at the edge of your vision, and you know you must be close, for your heart is practically dancing a heavy beat against your ribcage, and you suddenly push his mouth away, watching as a clear strand of spit or your slick forms a taut bridge between his mouth and your folds.

"w-wait, satoru, s-stop."

gojo's head lifts, eyes blinking as if coming out of a faze. but then, like a switch, something sharp flickers behind his gaze and concern floods in. his thin brows furrow slightly, glossy lips parting as he reaches out, as if to steady your hips, "you okay, sweetheart? what's wrong?"

your heart stutters, pounding so loudly you're sure he can hear it. you try to steady your breathing, but the tremour in your fingertips betray you as they gently slide through your hair, the silky strands tangling around your hand.

"nothin' wrong, 'toru. but i was gonna cum," and gojo's face, still flushed and soft with arousal, splits into a shy, amused grin.

"hah, i know. that's what i wanted," he's close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath hitting your aching cunt, but you shake your head again.

"feels unfair, wanna see you too. wan' you to cum in me,"

you watch, almost in awe, as a low and guttural sound escapes gojo satoru, raw and unfiltered. gojo runs his tongue over his lips, his eyes dark with something dangerously close to hunger.

"you sure?" and his voice is hoarse, unsure despite his roaming gaze. you nod, your hands digging into his shoulder, tugging at the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, desparate to feel the warmth of his skin underneath.

his shaky laugh of disbelief only makes you more aroused, whining for him to hurry up, and before you know it, he's standing up, towering over your boneless form on the sheets.

"how could i deny you anything?" he murmurs, echoing your earlier words. gojo's hands reach for the hem, the fabric shifting as he pulls it over his head, revealing a milky expanse of toned skin, smooth and taut over a set of abs that should easily land him on a gq list.

his waist is slender, defined in all the right places, and the soft taper of muscles make your breath catch. but the soft white trail of hair that reaches under his waistband makes your cunt clench.

"y'seem happy with the view, don'tcha?" gojo's voice is teasing, the cocky smirk tugging at his lips, but you can hear the impatience threading his tone now too. he's not as in control as he lets on, his hands now making quick work of his belt, leaving your mouth dry when he finally pushes his black boxers down.

you should have known that his cock would be as pretty and unfairly gorgeous as the rest of him. he's circling the strawberry-red tip, glowering and throbbing, right over your gathered slick, coating it and smacking the mushroom head in a thwack! over your poor clit, leaving you jolting as he laughs and leans down to kiss you sweetly once more.

"jus' look at me, yeah?" his drawl is slow, lazy and so ruined. at the first inch of his throbbing cock that slips through your walls, he looks utterly undone. a mess of sharp edges softened by something far more primal and raw.

gojo's head tips back, exposing the elegant line of his neck as the moonlight cascades over you, "hey, sweetheart, 's not too much, yeah?"

hazy blue eyes bore into you, and for a brief moment, in the time it takes for the lightning to strike the earth, you swear that his eyes glow. almost radiant and jewel-like, with cerulean fractals shimmering as if they're emitting life of their own. perhaps its simply the electrifying stretch of inches that's rendering you to hallucinate, whining as your nails find purchase in milky skin and rippling shoulders.

"i-it's big, 'toru," you pant, feeling him almost shudder at the clipped name again, as he grips the base of his cock to bully the final inch in, sighing in contentment as he finally bottoms out, with a wet pop!

gojo looks feral like this, heaving a breath through his mouth as though the air is being taken from him from every second he spends stretching you out on his fat shaft, "hah, 'm glad, i'm so glad i met you tonight, sweetheart. fuck, fuck, y'feel i-incredible."

he's pushing your thighs further back, running his hands over the plush skin, leaving bruising red prints that won't disappear tomorrow as you moan, wanton into his open mouth, letting gojo run his lips down your jaw and into the curve of your neck.

you're practically now folded in half under the bulk of his weight, feeling stars collide in absolutely astrophysical ways, impaled further on the long and thick length of his cock, "in so deep, s-satoru."

seems that gojo is a man of little mercy, for he seems only all the more invigorated by your squeals, drawing his torso back to watch the hypnotic smack of skin on skin, of your slick and creamy froth creating fresh rings over his pistoning cock.

he's entirely out of control, as you feel your body go limp from the pleasure shooting through every nerve and pore.

depraved.

you don't realise you might have let that slip out loud, so dizzy in your cockdrunk haze because gojo's suddenly ramming himself roughly in you, as though he was desperate to have his cock kiss your cervix, to feel for every divot and nook of your cunt's walls.

"d-depraved, hah. people call me, fuck, p-people call me a lotta things, sweetheart," and gojo's so good with it, letting your pussy have not even one moment to take reprieve, having you feel each vein and bulge of his cock, "but depraved is n-new."

the hand that was dancing over your thighs flies to your swollen, aching clit. practically glistening for his attention, and his attention you did receive, "right, t-there! 'toru, mmph!" you're trying to splay your legs wider, giving his quick hand more room to swirl tight circles where you needed him most.

your double-vision gaze lingers on the ripple of his muscles, the way his arms flex and shift as he seems intent on angling you just right for him to drill his cock over and over, at some freakish and feverish pace, "y'so good, gojo," you purr, and your nails curl against his arms, pressing just enough to leave tiny crescents in his skin, the faint dampness of his exertion clinging to him, "s-so strong!"

something shifts. the glow is back, electric blue flooding his eyes like crackling storm clouds. it's almost unnerving, this unearthly brightness, as if he's some ancient god wrapped up in human skin, and you've just stumbled into a divine revelation.

gojo stills for the briefest moment, the thick head of his cock snagging on your puffy folds as he draws himself almost entirely out. the absence of motion makes you whine, an airy and impatient sound escaping your throat. that hesitation feels like a tease, like a string that's been pulled so taut, before he finally dives forward, capturing your mouth in a messy, heated kiss. sloppy in its disregard.

"s-so strong, huh?" gojo's voice is rough, shaky, as though he's trying to centre himself but your tight pussy holds him in hypnotic sway, "y-you think so? think i'm the strongest?" his lips brush yours as he speaks, and there's something almost boyish and charming in the way that he seems to be fishing for a compliment, despite the low heat in his voice.

you pull back from his wet, spit-stringed lips. just enough to wrap your hands around his neck and push him closer, deeper into you as he gutturally groans, "if i s-say yes, are y'gonna keep showing off?"

gojo's laugh is short, breathless, "y-yeah, wanna see?"

he makes quick work of pushing himself back into you, pumping himself so far in that your slick must be painting and sopping the white hairs at the base of his cock almost translucent, "o-oh my god, 'toru, fuck, oh my god!" the stretch has your head spinning, as if the skies are parting above you, and you're melodramatically left to see the light of divinity as gojo bucks his hips harshly into you. as if he's too far gone, needs to prove himself to you with a good fuck.

"you h-have to say it," gojo stutters, his words tumbling out so quickly, like rough gravel, "say it, fuck, c'mon. say i'm — say i'm the s-strongest. you have to, hnghh, god. please, jus' agree, okay?" his voice is cracking, that cocky veneer entirely shattered under the weight of his rambling desperation as he practically rummages through your sopping insides, "y-you feel it right, i mean, you can feel me — i mean."

a high whine escapes your throat as his pace becomes almost olympian, and you wonder faintly how you haven't managed to sprain a muscle or break a bone yet, how he hasn't managed to shatter something with the sheer pace and force of how gojo satoru fucks, "hah, 'toru. i'm —"

"close? g-god, i hope so. 's what i want. nothing, like n-nothing feels better than this right?" his words are falling out of him in a messy, pussydrunk rush, his eyes flickering between your face and down to where your pussy lips are bulged around his shaft, "so good, right? the b-best thing you've ever —"

you truthfully don't even hear the rest of his words, blood absolutely roaring and rearing in your ears, your ribcage as you feel the tight coil snap, letting out short, slurred snaps of his name when you cum. as he doesn't quite let up on smacking his hips right against your ass, "s-satoru, 's getting s-sensitive, oh, fuck. fuck!"

he's suddenly whining, with pleading and erratic blue eyes chasing after you, sloppily pushing down so he can gasp and pant into your open mouth, before capturing you in a heart-stopping kiss as he finally gets milked dry by your pulsing and fluttering walls. in awe of how creamy white is practically leaking out of you, dripping a stringy trail over the flesh of your thighs.

you're agape at how utterly fucked he looks right now, though you're certain you do not look much better as fat tears prick at your eyes, streaming past your ears from the overstimulation, "s-still fillin' me up, 'toru. god, do ya always cum this much?"

at first, you don't even get a response from gojo who just sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck, almost as if he's trying not to cry out, but then he's back to circling your clit with a rough hand, "makin' me sound like some kinda whore, s-sweetheart. 'n and i told you. don't do this m-much."

and now he's slowing down, pleasurably painful bucks of his hips keeping glossy, white seed in you. ensuring that it coats your entire entrance, "an' it's not my fault that she," and here, he gives your clit a small smack! grinning like a madman, "n-not my fault that she's so, hah, addictive."

each tight circle of his hand on your clit sends you hurtling into yet another orgasm, one that has you begging gojo for mercy, repreive, for more. an orgasm that has him whispering the sweetest nothings into your ear, "d-don't worry, gotcha like this. gonna let you rest n-now, jus' gotta relax for me."

by the time he's slipping his still somehow hard cock out of your creamed cunt, you can feel exhaustions heavy and caring hands caress you, rendering your body limp and boneless. your eyes heavy and hazy, but you can feel a soft ghost of gojo's kiss over the shell of your ear, "h-hope y'still here in the morning, sweetheart. don't leave, yeah?"

the morning sunlight filters through the blinds, and despite the ache in your limbs that cricks your bones, you drag yourself out of bed. christmas day, after all. you've thrown on gojo's dress shirt from last night, snug enough to flutter around your hips, but oversized enough around the shoulders to let you drown in it.

it's cozy though, and even the chilly air feels refreshing against the warmth clinging to you. gojo is still sound asleep, and you had smiled at how he took little puffs of air as he was passed flat out in bed. but you always like to be up early on christmas, and there's something about the holiday that makes you feel like you need to earn the right to nap later.

you wander around the bedroom for a bit, stretching your legs as your muscle protest in earnest. eventually, you decide to make your way to that kitchen. breakfast, right.

it seems like a good idea, especially considering the last thing in your stomach was a questionably sour vodka. so you pull open the fridge, expecting something befitting of this apartment. perhaps a slab of wagyu beef, a tin of caviar, a thick block of pistachio-cream dubai chocolate. you'd even settle for sushi.

instead, you're left staring back at a stack of candy canes, some strawberry yoghurt, a carton of milk and some fast food wrappers. despite your protesting stomach, a deep amusement washes over you. it doesn't surprise you that gojo would have a fridge stocked with food you'd find at a child's birthday party and a greasy diner.

still, breakfast is in order and because you can't help it, you pull out a candy cane and start unwrapping it. you're just about take a bite when you hear the unmistakable pad of footsteps. you turn, face to face with someone who would clearly not be out of place on a vogue covershoot.

gojo hasn't tossed on a shirt, and the sunlight filters over his chiselled physique before your sight is stolen by the loose sheet wrapped around his waist. delicious. you try to snap your gaze back to his face, but it's hard to not track your gaze down his torso, like a cat eyeing a particularly irresistible sunbeam.

"good morning to you too," gojo says, a grin curling his lips, "what are you doing?" his voice is still thick with interrupted sleep, laced with a morning rasp that forces you to ground yourself and stop falling prey to the god, eros and his machinations.

"breakfast, 'm starving."

"don't bother," gojo says, shaking his head, "we can go somewhere nice for breakfast. like real, actual food. don't think you want half-eaten yoghurt."

you nod enthusiastically, mind turning back to the peeling seal of the strawberry yoghurt with a spoon sticking out of it. but then, something else catches your mind's attention. a little curiosity piques, one that you cannot help but ask him.

"wait," you begin, snapping your teeth around the saccharine mint of the candy cane, "y'know what's crazy. like, i swear your eyes glowed last night. not even in a silly compliment way, but like electricity. i thought i was like, losing it.'

you expect gojo to brush it off with a wink, or maybe laugh it off like you're just teasing him. but instead, the man's face shifts, that cocky smile faltering for the briefest moment. it's gone so fast that you think you almost imagined it. but why does he look...almost guilty?

before you can process that, you realised you've leaned yourself over the counter, and in your absent-mindedness, your elbow presses a button on the answering machine. a small beep, and suddenly, a voice blares through the room,

"hey, gojo-sensei!" comes a high-pitched, distinctly teenage voice, an excited boy who sounds a little crackly over the speaker, "so, we found this grade one curse yesterday...and uh, we totally got rid of it. we were gon' call you, but you didn't pick up. but i almost got my arm torn off. wait, no! that sounds dramatic, i got shoko to look at it anyway. so what we're all wondering right is that we don't have to hand in any homework now right? as like reparations?"

the voice crackles off, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. you stand there, absolutely dumbstruck, staring at the answering machine like it's about to burst into flames or start singing christmas carols.

gojo, meanwhile, has the most awkward look on his face, clearly caught between embarrassment...and what? panic, amusement?

"satoru, what the fuck?"

he looks at you for a moment, but instead of speaking, he lets out a long and exasperated sigh before pulling out one of the counter chairs, "you're gonna want to sit down for this one, sweetheart."

[ghostfacd]

KISS AND MAKE UP ; CORIOLANUS SNOW

summary: when coriolanus and you argue over the sudden closeness between him and lucy gray, all hell breaks loose. but he’s reminded that in the end, it’s you who he chooses, and it’s you that will stay.

warnings: reader and coryo have a toxic relationship (are we surprised?), mentions of cheating (no actual cheating involved), fighting and yelling, some ooc!coryo, descriptions may be inaccurate ‘cause i read the book like 2 years ago 😭

“I hate you!” You scream, thrashing in Coriolanus’s threshold. “Let go! Let go!”

“Oh stop making a scene, will you?” He growls out, not appreciating your lack of awareness of the eyes that were currently watching. “She’s fine, she’s fine.” He reassures the staring orbs of eyes, “stop it now, Y/N.”

His tone makes you shiver, and you stop trying to kick yourself out of his grip. He smiles contently at this, finally letting you go, but not before shoving his hands into yours. “See, wasn’t that easy?”

“Oh fuck you.” You say, but both you and Coriolanus know that you’ll be back at square one by tonight, kissing and telling him that you love him.

“Thought I'd have to drag you away and shut you up." He mutters, clearly unimpressed with the way you acted earlier. “Maybe get your shit together, L/N.”

“I would if you’d just act like a decent boyfriend for once!” You say, throwing your arms out in the air. “You know what? I don’t care; I don’t care what you do—go get close to your tribute! Go fuck up our relationship for all I care!”

You yank your arm away from his, stomping inside of the Academy with a scowl plastered on your face. Sejanus is only a few steps behind the two of you, and was going to open his mouth to say something when Coriolanus places his index finger in front of him.

“Don’t.” The boy says. “She’s just being dramatic.” He fixes his uniform, a lavish shade of red, as it was crinkled from the way you had tried to escape his hold earlier.

The next time he sees Lucy Gray, he thinks of your little upset pout and face, your yelling ringing in his ear.

Go fuck up our relationship for all I care!

“Are you alright?” Lucy Gray was cautious around Coriolanus, he was unpredictable, and scarily cunning. She had no idea what was even one of the million thoughts that ran through his mind

“I’m.. fine.” Coriolanus says, giving her a meek smile that almost makes her feel sick. Although she had to admit he was fairly handsome and she had somewhat fell for his charm and face, he still scared her regardless.

“Coryo.” Your voice makes Lucy Gray and Coriolanus both look up. You look like a looming dark figure compared to her, towering over. “We should talk later.”

And Lucy Gray watches as Coriolanus’s once emotionless face turns into a sly grin. He nods, not saying much, which was something Lucy Gray had came to learned these past few days after he had first met and given her a rose.

“Snow always falls on top.” Coriolanus whispers underneath his breath, and Lucy Gray doesn’t question it, only continuing what they had been doing earlier.

When the two of you were walking out of the Academy, you placed your hand in Coriolanus’s. It had gotten colder than it had in the morning, and you were freezing under your uniform.

He carefully caresses your hand, looking up to watch as snow slowly fell from the sky.

“So, you’re gonna tell me what you wanted to earlier?” He asks, still looking at the sky.

“I’m sorry Coryo,” you reply meekly, feeling small under his frame. “For causing a scene earlier. I was upset.”

“Upset at me getting close to Lucy Gray?” He questions, now finally glancing down at you.

“Yes! But you can’t blame me Coryo, you don’t see me getting close with my tribute.”

Coriolanus rolls his eyes, the blue orbs bore into yours. “What did I tell you? I would never cheat on you, silly girl. I’m not a monster.”

If only he knew.

You look down, embarrassed that you two were even having this conversation in the first place.

“I know you wouldn’t, which is why I’m apologizing in the first place.”

The two of you stop abruptly, your eyes reaching his despite the obvious height difference.

“I love you, okay?” Coriolanus breathes out, you can even see his breath, the temperature dropping even lower than it was before.

And although you don’t know the extent to which exactly the words coming out of his mouth are even true, you still go on your tippy toes, shivering as you give your boyfriend a kiss on the lips.

“There’s my smiling girl,” he says as he watches your eyes twinkle. “Now let’s go, I have some ideas of ways to warm you up.”

That night, snow truly, did fall on top.

[yoru-no-seiiki]

“Lie to me, cheat on me, I don’t care. Just do your job and all’s fair.”

— yandere! rent-a-boyfriend x apathetic! reader

tw/cw: no smut, but this account needs a revive so… reader is gender neutral but i hc them as a dommy mommy. more headcannony than a proper story.

You met him after he managed to con one of your friends at work. Posing as this suave, nice guy, who happened to lack the money to support himself. The one time your friend finally put trust in someone else, that was the time it was completely broken. Turned to ash and bones.

You remember the night your friend came to you, eyes red-rimmed and voice trembling as they recounted the whole ordeal. How he’d slipped into their life so seamlessly, with that charming smile and easy laugh, only to hollow them out from the inside. Every word he’d said was carefully crafted, every gesture perfectly calculated to lure them into a false sense of security. And when they finally realized the truth—when the money was gone and so was he—it wasn’t just their savings he’d taken. It was their ability to trust, to hope, to believe in people again.

And so you decided to take him for yourself.

You remember the look of relief, and then recognition before it settled into confusion with the slight hint of derision.

He was perfect.

“If you managed to fool them, then you’ll do a good job fooling my own parents.”

You needed him. He needed you. It was the perfect agreement. His confidence was alluring as it was powerful. The way he turned heads just by being in the room. And the sex? Simply amazing. I mean, if he managed to make your prude of a friend to buckle then it must’ve counted for something.

Sure, the look in their eyes when you brought him to work one day was horrific. But they’ll get over it you think.

After all, you’d made your choice, and you weren’t about to apologize for it. Maybe it was reckless, maybe even cruel, but there was something about him that kept you hooked. The way he carried himself, all charm and sharp edges, like he knew exactly how far he could push before breaking someone. It wasn’t love, not really, but it was magnetic, intoxicating. Besides, your friend would move on eventually—people always did— it was the natural course of things. You told yourself it wasn’t your responsibility to mend what he’d shattered, even if the shame clawed at you every time their gaze lingered, silent and accusing. You shrugged it off.

But then suddenly he began to act nice? You could feel the gradual loss of his impassivity. How he suddenly became interested in what you were doing, saying and most importantly disinterested in the money you gave him.

“Don’t you get it—? I - I can’t believe I’m even saying this myself - but I love you. I fell for you. And I don’t even know why—“

“Stop.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. A puff of moisture blows through the air as seasons passed and winter has arrived. Frustrated that the one thing you had over him was now seen as no longer valuable. But then realized . . . , “You know what? S’long as it makes the job easier for you.”

With the last smoke from your cigar, you press the tip of it to his nose. Ash, skin and snow collide.

You thought it was better for the both of you. He could have the so called love of his life, and you could spend a bit less trying to keep him tied to you as long as he was useful. However, what you needed from him wasn’t just love, it was strength, not this blubbering piece of mess that kept stuttering the moment you two were left alone.

He was turning weak. Pathetic. Something you didn’t need nor want in a partner.

Too bad he knew you too well. He knew that you were going to leave him behind. He knew that he only had moments to waste before all of this would be over.

So on Christmas Eve, he plans it all out. The meal, the lighting, the music.

He did what he always did best—he made those moments count. His words were sharp, like knives carefully aimed to slice through your resolve, each one designed to remind you why you’d stayed this long. He painted pictures of what you’d lose, of how lonely it would be without him, and how no one else could ever understand you the way he did. His smile was bittersweet, a mask for the desperation lurking underneath.

And it ends with a cheer,

all of this so that he could drug you.

And at last, with a kiss to your lips he mouthed, “Happy Holidays.”

[Author’s Note] Reader definitely comes from a Mafia family of sorts.

[phoward89]

Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics

Based on this ask

Young!President!Coriolanus Snow x Innocent!Reader

Coriolanus Snow was the youngest president in Panem’s history. He was cunning, charming, and very, very smart. Which is why he's the youngest man to hold the presidential office.

But that's not truly the reason why he's President Snow at the tender age of 25.

No….

He's the youngest president because he's a ruthless man. An evil man.

A snake that strikes both friend and foe with poison.

Nobody was safe from Coriolanus’ poisonous fangs.

Well, nobody, except his First Lady.

And you just happened to be First Lady Snow. The president's sweet, innocent wife who never saw his true colors.

Coriolanus, who you often called Coryo and even Snowflake (he'll kill anyone if they giggle, laugh, or snigger if in ear shot of you using the term of endearment for him), made sure that you viewed him as a loving gentleman. He never wanted you to see the cruel side of him.

You met him when you were both kids, before he became tainted and corrupted by the harsh cruelness of the world. You never experienced the cruelness of the world, being a bit sheltered by your family.

You were innocent, like a little dove.

And that's what drew Coriolanus to you. Your innocence enthralled him, memorized him even.

He made it his mission to keep all the horrors of the world away from you, to keep you innocent and naive.

Hell, you truly believed that he helped Lucy Grey win during his mentorship because he cared. You had no idea that he was thinking with his wrong head; wanted to get under her skirts.

You didn't know that he was sentenced to 20 years as a peacekeeper for his crime of cheating during the 10th Hunger Games. You truly believed his bullshit lie of wanting to follow in his father's footsteps (his father, Crassus Snow had been a general).

So, sweet, innocent, naive little you always believed what your Coryo told you. He was your perfect gentleman, your Snowflake, and you had no reason not to trust him.

President Snow, for all his faults and evil deeds, loved you with every fiber of his overly obsessive being. It's why he's done everything in his power to keep you from being corrupted by the world.

It's also why he had, nicely, forbid you from entering his office. Coriolanus gave you the excuse that he didn't want to be distracted from his duties of ruling over Panem, but in reality he couldn't risk you walking in on him while he had business meetings.

Some of which almost always ended with his visitor slumped over a teacup.

Dead.

Today tho, well, you didn't heed his warning and decided to visit him in his office instead of waiting for him to return to the living quarters.

You found out very exciting news and wanted to share it with him right away.

You put on a pretty pink dress, pulled your hair half back into a large bow (the way he preferred it), and picked some roses from the prized rose garden for the special announcement.

You happily made your way down the hall towards his office. His staff ignored you, knowing better to even look at you twice.

The staff wanted to live to see the next Yule season, thank you very much.

When you opened the door, you saw that your husband had a guest in his office. The man, who was stout with black hair; wearing a powder blue suit, was slumped over on your husband's desk.

President Snow wiped at the corner of his mouth with his handkerchief (his beloved one that you made special for him, embroidered with a light blue snowflake and his initials in maroon red thread) his icy blue eyes flickering up to the door to see who had walked in. He gave his staff specific orders not to be disturbed. He was ready to chew out whoever had walked it, but any and all retorts he had in the tip of his tongue had died when he saw you.

His precious, innocent, little dove.

Before he could ask what’s wrong (he knew something was wrong because you knew his office was off limits and wouldn't just walk in unless it was an emergency), you pointed to the man slumped over the desk and asked, “Coryo, is he passed out?”

“Oh, my little dove, don't worry about him. He just can't handle his liquor.” Coryo told you, even though the glasses on the desk were teacups and not rocks glasses typically used for liquor.

But of course, you believed your husband. He has no need to lie to you, has he?

Coriolanus stood up from his desk, only to walk over to you. “You know you're not allowed in here while I'm working, Y/N.” He reminded you as he stopped right in front of you. Your husband towers over you, taking in how you were all dolled up and had a bouquet of roses in hand. Arching a brow, he asked, “Is something the matter?”

“Oh, Snowflake, I know I'm not supposed to bother you while you're doing your presidential work, but I was so excited to tell you something.” You honestly told him, a bright smile on your face, as you handed him the roses.

“I'm usually the one who presents you with roses, my love.” Coriolanus chuckled, only to take the offered bouquet. “What's this exciting news that couldn't wait?” He asked, placing his large, calloused hand on your cheek only to caress your cheekbone with his thumb.

“I'm pregnant!” You joyfully smiled up at him.

“That's wonderful news, my little dove.” Your Coryo cooed, pressing a kiss to your lips. He grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together, and suggested, “Let's go celebrate this happy news with lunch in the sunroom.”

“Okay, but what about your guest? Shouldn't we wake him up?” You innocently asked, gesturing to the man lying dead on your husband's mahogany desk.

“I'll have one of the staff tend to him, Y/N.” Your husband assured you while leading you out of his office.

Little did you know what he really meant by that. But why would you, your husband's only ever showed you a soft, loving, gentleman. He's never shown you his true nature of being an evil, cruel, manipulative, murderous man.

Coriolanus is a snake, but to you he's Coryo, your Snowflake.

And he'll always be that to you since you'll forever be his sweet, innocent, little dove of a wife.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere ,@savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Chapter One

Pairings; Rafayel x reader, Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Sylus x reader (Love and Deepspace)

Word count; 4,495 (sorry it's so short, I'll try to post three chapters today)

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rated; 18+ for swearing and some mature themes

Notes; To make things easier to read, I'm going to use emojis for who is texting.

Y/n 🩷

Rafayel 💜

Zayne 💙

Xavier 💛

Sylus ❤️

Hi everyone! This is my first time posting to tumblr so please be gentle with me! If you like this, then let me know! It would be greatly appreciated. My upload schedule will be every weekend (so either fri, sat, or sun!) Also, if the story seems similar, it's going to be verbatim with the story, just with my own embellishments to it. Without further adieu, I hope you enjoy this first chapter.

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Masterlist

A bright light shines within the dark room. There you lay in bed, playing a game on your phone late at night before bed. The soft background music coming from your speaker as the game loads up. You press ‘enter game’ as images of three men make their way across your screen, each one holding a special place in your heart.

Who says you need a real man? Fictional men are where it's at. They can't cheat on you, can't leave you, can't lie to you. It's a lot better than having to stress over a real person and worry if they'll leave you the next day or not. You know from experience, having two boyfriends in the past and neither lasting longer than six months- both breaking off the relationship before an anniversary. Screw men– well, besides the three on your screen right now. They were fine. Oh, and the fourth one being added a month from now.

The game loads in and you get a greeting from one of the men on screen. They take turns showing up in the Destiny Café, each able to say hello every time you log in. It was always sweet to see what they'd say, how they'd react, or any new text messages you'd get from them. You could even change their phone nicknames! You had Xavier, the sweet tired and aloof silvery blonde haired man, saved as Princess since you thought it would be cute. He'd definitely be embarrassed if you called him that. Zayne, the seemingly cold childhood friend and doctor, was saved under Snow Angel; you honestly didn't know what to have his name as that but it would just be amusing to see his reaction to it. Then there's Rafayel, the purple haired sassy and charming painter, who was saved as Nemo- again, very original. But Nemo works nonetheless. As you smile and send your daily stickers to each man to see their reaction, you get a new notification at the top of your screen.

“A new message?” You murmur, noticing that it's contact is unknown. The message was coming from the game. “It must be some new event. Weird…I wonder why there wasn't an update for it?” You back out of your message with Rafayel and click on the new message from the unknown sender.

:’Will you enter the game?’

“That's it?” Your brows furrow and you sit up in your bed, your phone lying in your lap as you scratch your head. “Wait..” You click on the message to reply and your keyboard pops up. “That's…” Usually, to reply in game, you get a choice between a few predetermined answers but for this…You just get to answer how you want to?

’What do you mean?’ You text back before reaching over to put your glasses on. Maybe you should've gone to bed earlier, it kind of feels like you're hallucinating.

You hear the chime of another message rolling in, and you look back down at your phone.

:’Yes or no? Hurry and pick one.’

This time the keyboard doesn't pop up, you only get three options.

ロ Yes

ロ No

And…

ロ Why?

You don't even think twice before pressing why, and the answer comes back quicker than you expect.

:’Please take care of them for me.’

You let out a scoff before running a hand through your hair. This must be some sort of elaborate prank. There's no way this is a part of the game, and even if it were there'd be no explanation for it. Is this the dev's way of getting back at you for sending so many support requests? Before you can think much about it, suddenly you feel more sleepy than before. Your eyes tiredly blink as you try to grab your phone to at least plug it up and get off of the game before you fall asleep, but instead you're lulled to sleep by the soft, melodic tune of Love and Deepspace.

Then a light so bright that it burns your eyes even though they're closed appears. It's hard to even force your eyes open, but when you do, you notice it's a big, deep crimson eye. Similar to the one you'd see in game. Your blood runs cold as you try to look around this unfamiliar area, but all you see is darkness. A dream? Yeah..this must be a dream. Although you've never been able to actively move in a dream before, there's a first for everything!

Right when you finally calm yourself down, you hear it. A loud explosion, the feeling of embers licking at your skin. Your ears are ringing, and you feel a sharp pain on the right side of your face. The darkness fades, and you're left with the blinding light of the sun against your back and your body lying on a pavement. Just lifting your head up to look at your surroundings feels like an extreme workout, everything about your body feels heavy. Sluggish. Though your left eye widens as you realize you're laying in front of a burning building. Something shining in the sunlight catches your eye, and once you grab the object, you find it harder to breathe. It was a dog tag with a charm on it. An apple charm with a star design in the center, and in the center of that was a ruby gemstone. The words ‘When U come back’ were written in cursive on the dog tag.

“No way..” you manage to croak out, the necklace clutched in your hand as you try to push yourself up, but the pounding in your head and the pain coming from your eye are no match, and you end up laying face down on the pavement in front of the burning home until you pass out from the pain.

Being passed out had its perks. You finally had a chance to think and put together a few puzzle pieces before you woke up. So if memory serves, what just happened was your- no, the main character's childhood home just blew up right after her best friend and basically brother Caleb stepped inside and her grandma, who adopted them both, was inside as well. They both died, and supposedly a mafia-like group called Onychinus was behind it because they were tying up loose ends as Grandma was a former researcher and scientist, experimenting on children and modifying them with aether cores. But the main character wasn't badly injured after the explosion, which never made sense honestly. You're that close to a building exploding, and you only get off with trauma and minor scrapes? That doesn't seem right…and honestly, the pain made it feel all the more real. If you were in a dream, that pain most likely would've woken you up.

So coming to terms that you're inside of the game was a bit easier that way. Though the bigger problem lies with your evol. You wouldn't even know the first step to using it, let alone resonating with another person. And firearm training. You've never shot a gun before, but you did take self defense and fighting lessons a few years back, but you can't exactly punch a wanderer. They're durable monsters that can shoot ice or anything at you and, some even have blades for arms…

“Great, it seems like she's waking up now.” You hear the deep, yet cold voice of a man. Then, you hear the higher pitched voice of a woman, “Finally! It's been three days, I just hope she doesn't insist on going back to work..” “She won't, doctor's orders.” The male voice says before you hear a door close.

Your eye slowly opens before you have to squint to adjust it to the bright white lights. A hospital? You try to sit up and the woman next to you rushes to help you. You have to turn your head to look at her since she's on your right side. Your right eye was also bandaged since all you can see is darkness out of it. The first thing you notice is her short bob cut. “Tara?” You say, your voice sounding a bit raspy and you tilt your head to the side. “Thank goodness, Y/n! We thought you'd never wake up.” She seems excited, bubbly and sweet…just like her character in game.

“That's..” Before you can finish your sentence, you start coughing. “Here, let me get you some water!” She hands you a plastic cup and you take a sip before continuing, “I…can't remember much.” You squeeze your hand in a fist, the sound of metal clinking together has you looking down at your hand. “You never let go of that. You've been holding it since..” Tara trails off and you're caught off guard by a sudden surge of emotions. You take a shaky breath as to not start crying, since that would definitely hurt your right eye before you look up at the ceiling. “I don't recall how to use my evol, how to shoot a gun…Can I still even call myself a hunter?”

��Y/n…” Tara sighs before taking your free hand, “Things can always be retaught, we're all just glad you survived. You should be glad to still have both eyes being that close to the explosion!” She smiled at you before handing you your phone. “I can't stay here long, but your phone has been blowing up for the past three days so make sure you check it out.” She pats your hand and stands up. “I'll visit later with a coffee or something for you.”

“The patient is advised to not have anything caffeinated until after being discharged.” A voice comes from the door before he steps inside.

Black hair, glasses, hazel green eyes, tall…

“Doctor Zayne,” I greet him with a small smile, suddenly more nervous and I turn to look at Tara. “I'll see you tomorrow, Tara?”

“Sure! That is, if I don't get a call about a wanderer..Metaflux readings have been crazy as of late, so we've all been pretty busy- but that's not to push you into coming in or anything! Your health matters more to us at UNICORNS so only come back when you're ready.” She says before leaving the room.

“How are you feeling?” Zayne asks as he comes closer, taking a seat where Tara once was. His eyes scan your whole body to make sure you're okay before landing on your face. He leans forward to take the bandage off of your right eye and you wince at how bright the light is for your non-adjusted eye. “It'll probably scar..” he murmurs, presumably to himself.

“I'm..” You trail off, sighing before you decide it's best to tell the doctor the truth. “I'm fine, but I can't remember-”

“Can't remember what?” He cuts you off, almost seeming more worried about just what you can't remember, which makes you laugh a bit. “Calm down, I was getting to that. I can't remember how to use my evol, use my gun, or anything to do with wanderers.” “Hmm..are you sure it won't come back with time?” Zayne seems to have calmed back down as he's now writing everything down on a clipboard. “I'm sure of that.” You clear your throat, looking back down at the necklace in your hand before running your thumb across it.

“I don't mind relearning everything but I won't be as good as I was before, that's for sure.” You lean your head back and Zayne quickly corrects you, gently tilting your chin back down. “If your wound reopens, we'll have to use stitches so be careful.”

“You'll get better at it in no time. Don't forget that I'll help you out.” Zayne says before standing up. You take a glance at the clipboard and it seems like he added ‘post traumatic stress disorder?’ as a note. You guess he assumes your forgetfulness might be caused by that, but you knew otherwise. “I'll leave you so you can check up on your phone.”

With that, the doctor leaves the room and you can finally let out a sigh of relief. It seems he didn't notice anything was off with you. He was honestly the hardest hurdle since he's known the main character for a long time, but you've noticed you tend to act like her to begin with so maybe it wouldn't be as hard as you thought.

You finally decide to put the necklace down on the table next to you, your hand aching from having held it so tightly and grab your phone. There was no code on it so you easy got into it, might as well put a code on it now..and now you go to check your messages. 45 missed calls from Nemo…Nemo? Your brows furrow and you flinch because, of course, that hurts the wound on your face so you quickly straighten your face out. The nicknames are the same as they were in your game. 11 missed calls from Princess, 55 missed messages from Nemo, and 5 missed messages from Princess. Zayne didn't leave any since he works at the hospital… though on the day of the incident, he did leave two missed calls and a reminder of a doctor's appointment.

You decide to check up with Rafayel first since he's a certified drama queen. You don't scroll too far up but the most recent text messages are just him being pouty that his ‘miss bodyguard’ is ignoring him.

🩷 :’Been in the hospital for three days, sorry!’

You decide that's sufficient of an answer before nearly jumping out of your skin as he immediately calls. You laugh before answering the call, being bombarded with questions the moment you press the green button.

“Which hospital, Miss bodyguard? What happened? Are you okay?”

“One question at a time.” You laugh before you start coughing and have to take another sip of water from the plastic cup. Your throat was a bit achy from not being used for three days.

“Which hospital?” Rafayel sticks with his first question, his voice void of his usual playful banter. “Uhm..” you look around for a moment, not exactly remembering the name of the hospital in game before spotting its name on the whiteboard in front of you. “Akso Hospital, room 205.”

“Got it.” Then silence. “Uh…Rafayel?” You say, taking the phone away from your face to notice he had already hung up. You shrug it off before going to your messages with Xavier. Most of the messages were just asking if you wanted to go hunting with him, sending locations, and the most recent one was from a few hours ago with him asking if you were okay.

🩷 :’At the hospital right now, been out for three days! Sorry about that. I might need some help soon though.’

Xavier doesn't immediately call like Rafayel did, instead just exchanges a few texts with you.

💛 :’what happened? are U alright? is it’

🩷 :’Is it what? I'm fine, a bit sore though. I got caught up in an explosion three days ago and have been out since then.’

💛 :’..nevermind that how can U be okay if u were passed out for 3 days? what's the extent of your injuries?’

🩷 :’Just a few bruises, scrapes, a sprained ankle, and…’

💛 :’and what?’

🩷 :’I might have a cool new scar over my eye!’

💛 :’thats not funny..what hospital, i'm coming now.’

You pause your messages, knowing he definitely can't come now if Rafayel is. None of the love interests have ever interacted in the game before, so you're not sure of the consequences just yet.

🩷 :’I'm probably about to sleep again! You can visit tomorrow, the doc gave me some pain medicine that's making me a bit tired and I wanted to talk to you.’

💛 :’alright as long as ur okay. i can wait as long as you need.’

You pout, trying your best not to gush over how sweet Xavier is, and drop your phone as your room door suddenly opens to reveal an exhausted looking, purple haired man. His shirt was haphazardly buttoned, his hair tousled as if he just got out of bed, and panic written all over his face.

“You didn't think to describe the details of your injuries to me?” Are the first words out of his mouth before he shuts the door behind him, walking deeper in the room to grab your plastic cup to drink some water. “You've been out for three days, you shouldn't even be sitting up right now!” He sits down on the chair next to the bed and you reach toward him to try and fix his shirt buttons. The tips of his ears turn red and he pushes backward on the rolling chair. “What're you doing- you're a patient.”

“Your shirt..” You drop your hands into your lap with a small smile.

“Oh-” Rafayel clears his throat, turning the chair to fix his shirt before he rolls the chair back up next to you. With his hand gently cupping the right side of your face, he murmurs, “How did this happen?”

You assume he's probably in shock since you were never scarred like this in any of the past lives you shared with him.

“An explosion from my..” You trail off, lips pressing together in a thin line as you find it hard to say what happened, even though you know they're not your actual family. “..my childhood home. Two casualties.” You finally finish your sentence, not meeting Rafayel's bluish pink eyes as he still cups your cheek.

The silence is almost deafening before Rafayel sighs and drops his hand. “I'm sorry for your loss.” He finally says. “Do you need a hug?”

You quickly shake your head. “If I hug you, I'll cry and I really don't need to..irritate my…” You can't seem to get your words out as your eyes water and no matter how hard you try to stop it, your cheek stings as salty tears run down your still healing wound. Rafayel moves to sit on the side of the bed, guiding your forehead to rest against his shoulder as his arms wrap around you. “We can always get your doctor to fix it, huh? It won't do you any good if you keep your feelings all bottled up now, will it?”

You can't seem to stop crying, even as your breath stutters in your chest and you find it harder to breathe. Sure, you cried when they died while playing but for it to affect you like this? Maybe it's because someone offered to be a shoulder you could lean on.

“Focus on my breathing. Don't hyperventilate on me now, miss bodyguard.” Rafayel murmurs, hand still patting your back as your tears eventually fade and you fall asleep.

Rafayel pulls you back from his shoulder, moving you so you're laid flat on the bed before he grabs a soft tissue to wipe your face, wiping the trail of blood coming from your wound since the salt from your tears irritated it. He then leans forward to kiss your forehead. “I'll see you soon.”

The next time you wake up, your eyes are puffy and your nose is stopped up.

“I see you cried yourself to sleep.” Zayne comments, tilting your head by your chin so he can examine your wound. “You irritated it.” He sighs. “If you don't cry anymore, it'll probably be healed up in two weeks..then you can cry all you want.”

“Well, I'm sorry, I had to cry.” You say with a pout, knowing it's not his fault. “When can I be discharged?”

“After today, your ankle should be better to walk on so tomorrow? But if you want to start work again, I'd say another few weeks.” Zayne finishes writing something down before standing up. “I also did a routine checkup on your heart in case that was the reason you can't use your evol and I don't think that's the case. I believe your evol revolves around your emotions so if you're not confident in it, it won't work.”

“Thank you, Zayne.” You say before taking a sip of the iced coffee that Tara left for you thirty minutes ago. Then you finally shoot Xavier a text to say he's free to come to the hospital whenever he wants, that you'll be discharged tomorrow.

Not even a minute after you sent your message, there was a knock on your door. You look toward the noise before smiling behind your hand. “Come in.”

A silvery blond head pops in from the now opened door before he comes in and shuts the door behind him. “How are you feeling today?” He asks, his soft tired voice sounding a bit more emotional than usual. “Mmh, pretty good. I'd probably feel better if you came a bit closer.” You say, leaning over to pat the chair next to your bed. He quickly comes to sit down, almost as if waiting for the invitation.

“Your eyes are swollen. Did you have a rough sleep last night?”

“No, I..” it's probably best to keep telling the truth for now. “I just cried myself to sleep.” You shrug, trying to play it off as nothing but Xavier isn't falling for it. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“If I cry myself to sleep again, will you hold me?” You ask, raising your left brow before laughing to yourself. “Just thinking about what happened, not being able to save anyone, getting hurt like this…” You feel a hand on top of your own and turn to look at Xavier. “It's not your fault.” He finally says after a moment of silence. A small smile tugging at his lips before he changes the subject, “What is it you wanted to ask me?”

“Oh right!” You sit up before turning your body to face him. “I need you to teach me how to use my gun…and how to fight….aannnd how to use my evol.” You name off each one and tap on your fingers to count them off.

“You..forgot all of that?” His head tilts to the side before he nods his head. “Alright, I can do that. Is there anything else you need?”

“Uh…can you pick me up tomorrow? I don't know where our apartments are…or how to drive my bike either.” You rub the back of your neck and smile sheepishly.

“What else did you forget?” He lets out a small laugh.

“All of Linkon?” You say before adding, “I mean, I remember names but I don't remember where anything is..like Azure Square, UNICORNS HQ, Twinkle Toys, Meow's Café..”

“Don't worry, I'll help with anything I can.” Xavier smiles, his thumb rubbing across the back of your hand.

“Thank you, that means a lot to me.” You smile before looking down at your phone as it buzzes. Rafayel. He's- on his way?

“Actually, could you get me a friend for tomorrow?” You ask, a smile tugging at your lips. “A..friend?” His head tilts to the side until you say, “Can you get me a fox plushie and bring it to me when I'm discharged tomorrow?”

“I-” Xavier laughs before nodding, “Of course I will.” He stands up, looking toward the door. “I'll leave now though, since you seem a bit restless, but I'll make sure you get all the plushies you want.”

Not even five minutes after Xavier leaves, Rafayel is in the room. Almost as if he felt a disturbance in the force that someone was with his lady right now. “Was someone just here?” He asks, trying to act nonchalant as he sits down in the chair.

“No?” You phrase it as a question before you nod your head. “Yeah, the doctor just left. He was upset that I irritated my wound but, at least, I'll be discharged tomorrow! I can't go back to work for another two weeks though.”

“So does that mean my bodyguard is still out of commission?” Rafayel pouts, a hand on his hip. “Well, that's a shame. I had an art expo to go to in a few days and I was wondering if you'd join me.” “Ah…about that,” you clear your throat before telling him all about the troubles with your evol and even not recalling how to use a gun. “Why don't you try resonating now?” He asks, placing his hand on top of yours. “But what do I even do?” You murmur, closing your eyes.

“Do you feel all of that energy coursing through your chest? Try to direct that through your body to your fingers.” Rafayel whispers. “Think of it like paint. If you pour paint on a flat canvas, it spreads all out like crazy. You have to take a paintbrush and direct the paint to where you want it to go. So your evol is the paint and you are the paintbrush.”

That…helps but doesn't help at the same time.

You take a deep breath, trying to silence your mind to be able to focus but it's difficult to have dead silent thoughts. Instead you try to imagine the energy moving from your chest all the way to your hands, which were clasped between Rafayel's much bigger ones. Then, you finally felt it. You were resonati-

You flinch as you’re bombarded with a few blurry memories of your past life with Rafayel; Well, if you didn't know, you would've just been confused but since you played the game, you knew they were of your past lives with him. Though they were blurry, so you didn't catch anything besides a soft ‘my bride’ at the end.

My eyes blink open and you take one hand away from Rafayel to rub your temples. “I think it worked but..” you look at Rafayel, who was uncharacteristically silent. Maybe he saw the same images too?

“Hey, did you see it too?” You ask, which finally gets his attention. “Huh, see what?” He tries to brush it off but you don't let him. “It was kind of blurry but I remember seeing you…in a purple outfit? Oh and you said something at the end.” You tap your bottom lip with your index finger, pretending to try and recall what you saw when, in reality, you only saw a blurry Rafayel. You never saw specific details like that. “You said my bri-”

Rafayel covers your mouth with a hand. “That's enough of that.” His ears were red and he wasn't looking you in the eyes. Then he clears his throat. “Anyway, I'll contact you soon about the expo since you seem to resonate just fine and then maybe I can show you around Linkon City to try and jog your memory.”

He leaves as quickly as he showed up, clearly embarrassed by what you were going to say.

“Cute..” you say to yourself, laughing into your hand before wincing and touching the right side of your face.

---------------------------------------------------

That's it for the first chapter! Since I wrote this on goggle docs, I wasn't sure just how short the chapters were but they'll get longer as we go on! I have a few chapters piled up so even if I don't write for a few weeks, I'll still be able to post. I'd love any feedback or even any explanations of the features on here to make the reading experience a bit better. I've never posted to Tumblr before so I've been just copying what I see from the tags and word count so I think I've done pretty well for my first time. I would love to learn how to do a masterlist though and also a next button, I guess I just have to link the next chapter on it? I'll have to test it out so please bear with me and I hope you enjoyed- and stick around for the chapters to come! 🩷

[melminli]

teachers pet - by melanie martinez

pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem. reader

summery - if i'm so special, why am i secret?

word count: 2k+

contains: student coryo (academy is basically a uni), teacher reader, age gap (coryo is in his early twenties while the reader is somewhere in her thirties), teacher x student relationships, dark themes, cheating (reader is married), mommy issues, manipulating, blackmailing

The life of a nerd didn't look as bad as it was portrayed in movies or books. However, it must be said that Coriolanus Snow had neither the stereotypical look nor behavior of a nerd, which may have been the reason why he was hardly treated like one. He had only the best, the good grades of a model student, the popularity of a popular student, and the good looks of a young man his age.

Cute girls queued up to get a chance with him since he seemed like a dream. In a world full of boys, he was a gentleman, a young man with a secure future. Some of his classmates would joke that he would be the future president of Panem, although they always had a slightly confident undertone while saying that. To be honest, no one would be surprised if he would be someday.

"Come on, Coriolanus! Let's go for a drink, you're never coming with us!" Complained the voice of some side character. "I'm sure you have a good chance with most of the girls in the bar - or boys. Whatever you like, I don't judge." He joked, and Clemensia hit him on the shoulder with her fist to warn him to take it down a notch.

She spoke in his place. "Leave him be. He's not into that sort of thing. I'm sure he'd rather spend his time doing more productive things." A slight grin stretched across her features. "Maybe you should try that sometime. Perhaps then you wouldn't fail half the subjects."

Festus interrupted the conversation as he walked past the group. "Come on, Clemmie. Leave the poor guy alone. We're students. It's normal to go partying every now and then." His eyes looked somewhat defiantly at Coriolanus. "You only live once. There's no need to waste it."

Alcoholics and drug addicts use the same excuse, stupid idiot. Coriolanus had enough of this whole interaction. It was time to wrap it up. "Of course, and everyone is free to live this life the way they want." He said with a falsely charming smile when he finally got a chance to speak. "I'm afraid I don't have much time either, I'm already in demand elsewhere."

Unfortunately for him, Arachne couldn't hold her tongue and had to carry on the conversation. "And so late on a Wednesday, too? Don't tell me our teacher's pet is in trouble. Has Mrs. Lola finally realized that you're just trying to get better grades with your flirting, and she doesn't actually have a chance with the pretty boy?" She joked as she mentioned the older woman who was getting closer to retirement with each passing year.

But her comment didn't make the intended person bitter, but Festus, who had to grit his teeth in annoyance. "Can't believe that shit works. I complimented her the other day, and she gave me a look like she was cursing me and the rest of my bloodline." He sighed. "I don't even want kids."

Coriolanus was getting impatient. If at least Sejanus was here, he could cover for him enough to leave, but no, they didn't share every damn course there was. He couldn't believe that this bothered him somehow. "No. Actually, I have asked to speak with Mrs. Rosey regarding her assigned homework." He announced, mentioning your name.

His pretty literature teacher. The only woman he wanted.

The eyes of the person who had started the whole thing in the first place lit up briefly. Coriolanus didn't bother to remember his name. "Oh, she's that one young teacher, isn't she?" He asked. The title wasn't really that hard to get since most of the teachers at the academy were dinosaurs. "She's pretty hot, I regret dropping literature man, but at the end of the day it's just an unnecessary course that requires extra work."

Okay, now Coriolanus was not only annoyed but also angry and had to stop himself from looking too passionate. "Right, see you tomorrow." He quickly said goodbye and paid no further attention to what the others were saying as he made his way to the teachers' lounge. He quickly fixed his tie and hair before knocking on the door. Fortunately, he didn't meet anyone else in the corridors who wasted his time unnecessarily. His patience was getting thin, and he didn't think he had enough of it to make him exchange more false smiles and words.

"Come in..." He heard your muffled voice call through the door before he slowly opened it, and his eyes immediately turned to your table. You, too, looked up from the papers in front of you and met his figure as you turned your chair to the side. "Mr. Snow, you said you had a question about the assignment I gave you."

There was a step between you two, but your voice still felt close. Maybe it was because you two were the only ones in the room since it was pretty late. Now that Coriolanus was looking down at your figure, you looked quite exhausted and seemed barely able to keep your eyes open. Judging by your desk, you were in the middle of correcting last week's quiz, but he doubted that was the only thing you were working on. Your usually well-groomed appearance was a little more disheveled. There were strands of hair peeking out from various places, and the first few buttons of your shirt were undone. "You never called me." Was all he said as he watched you avoid his gaze.

Your tongue licked over your dry lips as you searched for the right words. "I don't think that has anything to do with the assignment." You replied. Maybe my mistake was, hoping he had a question in the first place. "I'm not going to talk about other matters, I'm busy." You tried to explain to him.

Coriolanus laughed in disbelief. He placed his coat and bag on the chair next to him before leaning back against your table. "Oh, please. I can understand you wanting to keep our special time a secret, but don't try to deny it." He spat out, placing his hand on the papers to stop you from continuing to work on it. "Do you regret the things we shared, huh? Don't lie to me."

You met his gaze after you sighed. "Look, Mr. Snow. I'm sure you'll understand me when I tell you that you should rather concentrate on your studies, don't you think?"

His jaw tightened further as you continued to skillfully evade his questions. As if you didn't care at all, as if you didn't care about him. He was fully aware that what he was getting into was something short-term, but he still wouldn't allow you to throw him away as easily as trash. "Oh, so it's Mr. Snow now? What happened to Coryo."

You stood up so you could speak to him at eye level. Coriolanus has always been a bit more clingy with you. You expected no less, and yet it didn't make this whole procedure any less difficult. "Look, I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I'm married, and you know that." You tried to work through the situation. You grabbed his arms to comfort him with your touch. "There are so many young girls out there who want you. I'm so much older than you, and I'm also your teacher. From the beginning, this was something that wouldn't last."

He shook his head. "I don't care about them. It's you I want, please. Only you." He begged, and this time, he was the one who grabbed your arms to stop you from leaving, from leaving him. Coriolanus could see in your eyes how his desperation couldn't convince you, and he wished it would. Not only because he wanted to, but also so that he wouldn't have to resort to other methods, but you left him no other choice. "It would be a scandal if the whole thing came out, don't you think?"

You just sighed tiredly when he didn't let you go. "Sweetie..."

He softened a little at the pet name, but that didn't stop him. "No, you can't just use me until you're satisfied and then dispose of me. I will tell everyone and you know that as a teacher you will be in a position where people will accuse you of taking advantage of me." He explained as he pushed you between him and the desk while he watched the look of irritation on your face. His one hand came up to gently stroke your cheek, but his true intentions were visible through the strong grip on your arm. "And of course, you can try to tell the truth or try to defend yourself, but you know who they're more likely to believe."

He hadn't only pushed your body in a corner anymore. "So what? We're going to keep doing this until you're satisfied and let me go." You asked, seeing no long-lasting result.

That was your mistake. It hadn't been long since you'd been married, so Coriolanus was aware that you hadn't changed your surname. He liked that about you. He liked the sound of Rosey, and he too wanted to hold you like a little pretty rose in his grasp. "Yes. Except I won't let you go. Ever." he said with a slightly dreamy look.

You dared to disagree. "Mr. Snow - " you began, but changed your tone when you saw him grimace angrily and tighten his grip on your arm. " - Coryo, look. You're a smart boy, and yes, I enjoyed our time together, but it's not right that - "

" - I love you, and if it's wrong, then I don't want to be right. Why can't you understand that already? I know I'm young, but I'm not naive, so don't talk to me like I am." He spat out in annoyance and finally reached the end of his patience. His eyes glanced briefly next to you at the table where the sheets of paper were now messely scattered around. It seemed you were in the process of correcting his. how convenient. his hand grabbed it and held it in front of you. "Let's play a little game. If I pass this quiz, you'll give me something I want."

Your eyes didn't move from his. You knew you had to play along whether you wanted to or not, and you didn't seem to get far with values and morals. You doubted you would do it at all with him. "And what do you want?" You asked him simply.

He leaned closer to you. "A kiss."

You met his eyes and took the paper from his hand without even glancing at it. "You passed." You confirmed and pulled him into a soft kiss.

This is how he liked you. When you touched him tenderly like now and stroked his hair lovingly. Coriolanus only felt like this with you. Do you think he wouldn't have tried to get away from you? He did, first with several girls who just wanted him to give and give and he hated that they just took from him and thought it was enough if they just stood pretty next to him or leaned back and spread their legs. Hated them, and so he tried women who were older than him and then women who had the same color eyes as you, some who smiled like you and then some whose voice was similar to yours. He liked those the most because with them, he could just close his eyes and imagine it was you.

Then he finally got tired of just imagining it, and once he had a taste of what might be, there was no going back to his old ways.

"I love you." He finally said as you ended the kiss and he leaned his forehead against yours while his hands wrapped around yours. "Don't ever think about leaving me again and don't make me out to be crazy for wanting you."

What am I supposed to do with you, little snowflake, now that you don't melt away? "All right, Coryo, I won't." You just replied and saw no point in arguing with him anymore. You knew him well enough to know how possessive and dominant he could get. However, you liked him more when he was dependent on you and sought your approval. "But be good and a little nicer to me, will you?" You said and squeezed his hands. "Because if I wanted some stupid man who was full of himself, I'd go to my husband."

He nodded quickly, giving in easily now that it was clear that he had you. "Of course, anything you want. I'll do anything you want." He spoke and took your hand in his up to place a kiss on it. "All you have to do is ask for it."

Coriolanus would take care of your useless husband. You wouldn't need him when you were going to marry him soon.

[touyasdoll]

Why Are You Here?

pairing: rockstar!Touya Todoroki x ex girlfriend!reader (fem), model!Keigo x reader (implied)

warnings: quirkless!au. exes to lovers. reader's wearing a dress. no cheating involved. reader & Keigo aren't exclusive, but it's still a little shady. Touya has low self worth. bathroom sex. wall sex. unprotected sex. biting if you squint. dacryphiia if you squint. v mild degradation. praise. reader gets picked up. creampie. emotionally charged sex. tiniest bit of angst, but it's immediately resolved.

word count: 3.5k

notes: based on the MGK song of the same title. his music always makes me think of Touya, so I couldnt resist 💕

also shout out & credit to @emotionalsupportemoboys for making me fall so deeply in love with rockstar!Touya that it actually hurts sometimes. every version of this man that you write is just *chef's kiss*

💕Heartbeats & Handgrenades Masterlist 💕

“Why are you here?” 

You recognize the voice behind you immediately. Recognize the ire permanently laced into his words. Ire that was never truly directed at you, even now. He’s always had plenty of reasons to be angry, but not with you. Not for long, anyway. 

After inhaling a silent breath, you turn to face him and, unfortunately, he looks as good as he ever has without even having to try. It’s unfair, honestly.

Snow white hair perfectly mussed atop his head. Dark, ripped up jeans. A black button down that’s half undone, offering you a generous peek at the smooth skin of his well toned chest, covered in various tattoos that you know you could trace without even having to look at them.

And then there’s that fucking look on his face. The handsome smirk that has your knees turning to gelatin, but you’re determined to try and prop up your walls. They always seem to be made of cardboard when it comes to Touya, but something is better than nothing. 

“Getting a drink? I could ask you the same question. This was my bar first.” You offer nothing more than a nonchalant shrug as you lean against the countertop in the dimly lit dive bar. “Some people just say ‘I’ve missed you’, y’know.” 

“Oh, so you miss me? S’that why you showed up with pretty boy?” He cocks a brow as he sidles up beside you, cheating his body towards you as he rests an elbow on the bar. 

He’d seen you walk in Keigo and he’d also just outed himself, because no sooner than the blonde had left your side did Touya seize the opportunity to say hello to you. He mentally kicks himself from slipping so soon into your interaction.

He leans in a little closer and the aroma of his aquatic cologne mingling with the ever present scent of smoke hits your nostrils. He smells like a bonfire on the beach and it catapults you back into the memory of the last morning that you’d spent together. Tangled up in the sheets, limbs intertwined while your noses brushed against one another’s. The taste of cigarettes on your tongue, despite the fact that you don’t smoke. You’re a little ashamed to admit that you bought a pack just to burn one whenever you miss him a little too much. 

“Why? You jealous?”

“M’sure you’d love it if I was,” he says as he turns toward the approaching bartender to order himself a whiskey. He orders you your usual. 

“If,” you scoff once the bartender busies himself with fixing your drinks. He hates the way you threaten to cut through his entire facade with a single syllable. 

“Didn’t miss your fucking attitude, that’s for sure,” he mutters, but there’s no truth to his words.

He’s missed you. He’s always missing you. Constantly. It’s exhausting, actually. He’s well aware that he has a tendency to obsess over things, to fixate, and you’re no exception.

He’s only at this bar, because he knows that it’s your favorite. He was so used to attending exclusive nightclubs, posting up in the VIP section to party to his heart’s content, which was fun in the beginning of his career. He loved the attention that it brought him, but eventually the charm wore off and he realized that most of the people around him were after something. 

Not here though. He was just looking to get a drink without having to entertain anyone. He wanted to unwind and take his mind off things, so he happened into this place. Strolled up to the bar the two of you are posted up at right now and there he found you. The only thing worth thinking about from that point forward. 

You and your gentle touch. You and your kind words. You and your concern for his well being. You and your Godforsaken love for him. He can still feel it too. It’s practically radiating off of you, even through your veil of sarcasm; he’s practically drowning in it and he’s ready to take a deep, deep breath. 

But he doesn’t. He’d rather suffocate like a fish on dry land when the ocean is right there, waves outstretching over and over again, offering assistance to see him home where he could finally breathe again. He knows he doesn’t deserve it. 

“Bullshit,” you laugh and the sound is genuine. It makes his heart skip a beat and he knows that he’s helpless now. 

“What do you mean, bullshit?” He quirks his brow, narrowing his eyes and offering you the slightest hint of a smile. 

“You miss my attitude,” you state plainly, shrugging as you accept your drink from the bartender with a polite thank you before you turn to look at Touya. “It’s the only one that can keep up with yours.”

The tension finally breaks. It doesn’t shatter, but there’s an obvious crack in it. Enough to relieve some of the pressure that’s so violently palpable between you. You focus back on your drink, taking a generous sip as you start to study the few other bar patrons here tonight. 

“Ya got me there,” he chuckles, looking down at his designer combat boots as his smile grows and turns a touch wistful. 

He quiet for a moment, fingers tapping against the glass of whiskey on the bar. He studies the amber liquid until he can’t fight it any longer and he reluctantly fixes his gaze on you. His eyes slowly travel along your frame, pulse quickening when he finally gets a good look at the way the stark white dress that you’re wearing suits your body. You look perfect. Hair done and makeup perfect. He’d still think the same if you were sitting here in sweats, barefaced. You were always perfect in his eyes. 

“What?” You ask as you peek over at him, innocent as ever. 

“I miss you like hell.”

Your eyes meet and everything seems to slow down for a moment. You study his features, your gaze briefly flitting to his lips that you wish you could just lean in and taste again, but you told yourself that you had to quit him. It isn’t healthy to keep doing this same old song and dance. Even if it’s the only thing that makes you feel alive these days. 

“We can’t keep this up, Touya,” you whisper, meeting his eyes again to see the same sense of longing you feel reflected in his own.

“One more time.”

It’s a plea. He’s desperate, holding his breath and praying to a God that he’s never believed in that you won’t turn him away. 

“We always say that.”

“And one day we might mean it, so c’mon. We can’t hurt each other more than we already have.”

“You’re underestimating us.”

“You’re avoiding this,” he counters. “Because you don’t wanna say no.”

And he’s right. You don’t want to. You can’t. 

“Ya got me there,” you admit, feeling a little sheepish all of a sudden. Despite everything that you’ve been through together, which has definitely involved hell and high water, there’s always an invigorating sense of newness and novelty with Touya. A fire that you can’t put out. 

He grins, nodding towards the back wall of the bar before he tips his glass back to swallow his drink in one gulp. You fight the smile on your lips, taking one last sip of your own before you abandon it in favor of following a few paces behind him towards the men’s restroom. 

He slips inside and you wait nearby for a beat until he just barely kicks the door open to signal that the coast is clear. With a quick glance around, you’re assured that no one’s paying you any mind, so you slip inside and are immediately welcomed into his arms.

“You didn’t say it back,” he points out, pressing you against the counter as his hands slide from your waist down to the hem of your dress. 

“You didn’t lock the door.”

He huffs a laugh and steps away to twist the lock on the bathroom door, sauntering back towards you to seize your waist again. 

“Satisfied?”

“Never.”

“Smartass,” he murmurs, shaking his head as he leans in to capture your lips, silencing whatever remark you had brewing. 

Both of you had tried to put distance between yourselves, in vain, clearly. None of that mattered now. All that seemed to matter was getting closer. Your arms wind around his neck, hand cradling the back of his head, so that you can kiss him more deeply. His tongue parts your lips, begging to explore your mouth while his hands slip beneath your dress. He wastes no time in finding what he’s really after. His index fingers hooks into the crotch of your panties, tugging them aside to slip his middle finger between your folds as he pulls a moan from your throat.

“This wet for me already? So you have missed me, huh, doll?” He smirks, teasing your slick entrance as he pulls back to look at you before he starts peppering kisses along your jaw. 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you murmur, shifting your hips forward in search of friction, which he grants you in the form of his thumb gently circling your clit. You rest your hands on the counter behind you to keep yourself steady. 

“Don’t hafta. You’re the one doin’ that,” he whispers in your ear, his voice low and sensuous. “Keep it up, baby. You know I like hearing the sounds you make for me.”

He doesn’t give you much of a choice when his lips find the skin of your neck. The tip of his tongue slides over your pulse before he nips at it with his teeth, making you gush a little around his finger when he effortlessly slips one inside of you. 

“Touya,” you moan, already too pliable in his capable hands. “We don’t have a lotta time.”

It’s an unfortunate truth that he can’t argue with. He wants nothing more than to make this last, but he’ll always take what he can get as far as you’re concerned. 

“I know,” he grumbles and you swear you can see a pout on his lips for the briefest of seconds as he cups your jaw. 

He kisses you like he means it. It’s not searing, but it’s comfortably warm. His soft lips move against yours again and again, slow and deliberate. He savors every second that he’s able to taste you and he uses each one to try and tell you without words just exactly how much he’s been missing you. 

“Guess we oughta do this efficiently then, yeah?” 

The signature smirk is back when he pulls away and you hardly have time to process before he’s spinning you around to face the dingy mirror in front of you. He guides your hands to the counter as the bulge in his already tight jeans prods at your ass. 

“Just shut up at fuck me already,” you beg impatiently, too wound up to deal with any more banter while your cunt was still empty. 

He chuckles, eyes gleaming with amusement as he looks at you through the mirror and pulls his cock from his pants. Long, pierced, and swollen with need. 

“I love it when you boss me around,” he rasps as he guides the head of his cock between your folds, quickly gathering your slick on his length before he sinks himself inside of you with a sinful groan that he doesn’t bother stifling. 

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, sighing with relief as he fills you. 

Your eyes fall closed and you hang your head while he slowly starts shifting his hips, dragging his cock back and forth along your walls to inch himself deeper with each pass. 

“You feel so good, doll. Shit.”

His head lolls back and he loses himself for a time, too distracted by the feeling of you finally being wrapped around him again to focus on anything else. 

You eventually pick your head up to look at him through the mirror, your moans echoing off of the glass. He meets your gaze a moment later and neither of you dare look away from one another as he starts thrusting harder and faster. 

“Fucking missed your cock, Touya. Missed it so fucking much,” you whimper, clutching to countertop as tears start to well in your eyes, because it truly just felt that good. 

“Don’t cry, doll. You’re gonna ruin your makeup and we can’t have that,” he says with an edge of condescension in his voice. “I gotta send you back to pretty boy in good condition.”

He looks down to watch where your bodies are joined, never missing a beat as he continues drilling himself into you. 

“M’not w-with him,” you feel the need to clarify while you can still form words.

“But you came here with him. Could have any man you wanted and yet you show up here with a friend of mine. M’not stupid, doll,” he pants, gradually slowly his pace as he finds your eyes in the mirror yet again. “And neither are you.”

“Touya—,”

“Ssh,” he hushes you, pulling out to grab onto your waist and spin you around. “I don’t give a fuck about who you’re here with.”

You gaze at him, allowing him to walk you backwards towards the wall that he pins you to. He lumbers over you, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger to tilt it back, so that his eyes can bore down into yours, allowing you to see the unadulterated desperation in his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you just say it back?” He asks quietly, his voice hardly above a whisper. “I know you miss me, doll. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t, right?”

You don’t know what to say. Of all the times that the two of you had slipped and ended up like this, neither one of you had ever let your guard down so completely. 

He’s impatient and painfully aware that all of his insecurities were bubbling up to the surface, so he changes course again, throwing the two of you right back to where you were. 

“You said you missed this, yeah?” 

He grabs your thigh to hitch it up onto his hip and palms his erection, slowly sliding it into your core again and breathing a little easier when it still tears a moan from your lungs. The tension lessens once you’re connected again, but it doesn’t dissolve and he thinks the only solution is proximity. 

“Up,” he instructs as he slides his hand behind your other thigh. 

You comply and jump high enough to let him catch you and hoist you up, your back flush to the wall as he starts rocking his hips again, slowly pistoning his cock in and out of you. 

“I missed you,” you admit breathlessly, draping your arms around his neck and holding him close. “I always miss you.”

Hearing those words brings him some relief and it shows on his face, but he realizes then that just that alone  isn’t what he really needs. He needs more and you know that already, because you need it too. 

“Say it. Please. Please just fucking say it. I need you to,” he outright begs, too lost in the moment to care about the fallout that might occur after the fact. 

“I love you, Touya. I love you so much,” you confess, feeling an immense weight slide off of your shoulders. 

“I love you too, doll,” he replies without a second thought, sighing with relief as he picks up the pace again, spurred on by your reassurance. 

“Fuck! Touya, baby,” you whine, clutching to him as he starts hitting an angle that makes your eyes roll back inside your head. “B-baby, m’gonna cum. M’so close. So fucking close—ahh!”

“Cum for me, doll. Cum right on my fuckin’—oh fuck yeah, baby. That’s it. Such a good girl f’me,” he praises you through grit teeth, feeling his own end rocketing towards him as he fucks you through your own. “Such a tight fucking pussy. Gonna make you all mine again. All fucking mine.”

The cacophony of noises that ensue as both of you enter nirvana is likely enough to alert anyone standing too close to the bathroom, but neither of you care, too wrapped up in the glorious feeling of being reunited once again. Hearts thumping. Bodies pulsing. Adrenaline running high. It almost feels like flying.

It isn’t until you start to recover from your orgasm that you realize what goes up, must come down. And reality was likely to hit both of you once you walked back out that door. 

He seems to have the same sad epiphany as his breathing even out. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, refusing to let you go just yet, even if it was just prolonging the inevitable. 

“We can’t keep doing this,” you echo your words from earlier in a remorseful whisper, closing your eyes as you knit your fingers into his hair and cradle his head. 

“I know,” is all he says. 

He feels empty all of a sudden and he hates it. He doesn’t want to let you go. What if this really was the last time?

“But I don’t wanna stop,” you add more quietly. 

His lips curl into a barely there smile against your skin and he presses a kiss to your pulse. 

“I don’t either.”

Not two minutes later, you stroll out of the bathroom. Thankfully, no one seems to notice, but you do see Keigo across the room searching for you. 

Touya steps out of the bathroom to see you joining the blonde at his side. He watches you take a seat beside him at a table and sip on the drink he’d ordered you as his arm slips around your waist. 

He’d love nothing more than to tear his friend’s arm off at the moment, but he plays it cool, pretending like he’d just happened into the bar as he approaches the table. 

“Hey, how’s it goin’?” He asks coolly, standing with his hands stuffed in his pockets as he surveys the two of you. 

“Oh, hey. Didn’t think we’d see you here,” Keigo says as he looks up, his arms subconsciously tightening around your waist. 

You smile up at Touya, having fully prepared yourself to put on this dumb little act, but your expression falters when you see a scantily clad blonde step to his side and practically throw herself onto him. 

“Hey, Dabi,” she says in a sing song voice that makes you want to hurl. 

He doesn’t look thrilled to see her, but he slips an arm around her anyway. 

“I see you’re busy,” you say as you lift your eyes to his face. “It was nice to see you, Touya. We should catch up soon.”

The woman on his arm must recognize you as his ex, because she slips her hand through his and starts not-so-subtly tugging him towards the bar. 

“C’mon, baby, let’s let them get back to their date,” she says, shooting you a judgemental look that you know you could wipe straight off of her face, but you don’t. 

“We were just leaving, actually,” you explain as you slip out of the booth and Keigo follows. “But I’ll see you around, Touya?”

Your tone is sweet and he understands that there’s more meaning behind your question than either of your respective dates would pick up on. He flashes you a knowing grin and nods. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around. Take care, doll. Keigo,” he nods to him as well before he walks off towards the bar with the now disgruntled blonde still attached to him like a leech. 

When you finally get back home that evening, alone and grateful for it, you plop down on your sofa to kick off your shoes, feeling the effects of the alcohol you’d downed at the next bar you’d ended up at. 

You sink back into the cushions and sigh, staring at the wall as you consider whether or not you’re drunk enough to text him before you realize that you’d do it sober, so who the fuck cares? 

You grab your phone and it buzzes the second that it touches your hand. The preview shows that it’s from Touya. 

I can’t wait any longer. I know we can’t do this shit anymore, but I don’t wanna play any more games. I want this. I want you. Always. Not just sometimes. 

He sends another. 

Can I come over?

You chew on the inside of your cheek, thumbs hovering over the keyboard while you read his message over and over and over again. 

Finally, you take a deep breath and punch in your response. 

Took you long enough. I’ll be waiting 💕

thank you for reading! likes, comments, and reblogs are always very much appreciated 💕

[silverbladexyz]

Tears to Shed

It's a coincidence how this is posted on Chuuya's birthday. I hope you guys enjoy! This is a Corpse Bride!AU, and I highly recommend that you watch this to get the gist of what is happening.

TW: Mentions of death, implied cheating (?), female reader. It all makes sense once you read the fic and watch the video. Massive thanks to @justcallmesakira, @saelique and @my-amaz-fanfics for proofreading this :)

“Oh my! I’ve spent so long in the dark… I’d almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.”

The cool night air went unnoticed as you stood on the snow. A small perk of being dead was that the cold wasn’t an annoyance anymore. 

A breeze blew through the trees, sending a ghastly shiver up their wooden trunks. Their ancient roots dug into the ground that was blanketed with a soft layer of snow. Gnarled branches twisted into the sky, much like the claws of a cat. The entire forest seemed eerie- but to you, it was like home.

Your bony hand tightly grasped around a warm palm. The exact same hand that slid the wedding ring onto your finger with so much love and passion that you immediately burst forth from the grave with a ‘yes’. There were a few murmurs of disapproval in the Underworld, but nobody could deny the fact that you two truly loved each other. Afterall, why would your husband choose to marry you if he disliked you in the first place?

A butterfly fluttered past, catching your attention. You admired the beautiful, complex patterns that swirled on it’s wings, prompting an involuntary chuckle from you. The land of the living sure was a breath of fresh air sometimes. Thanks to the gracious Elder of the underworld, you were able to go back up and meet your lover’s parents. 

You let go of your husband’s hand, and started to do an elegant dance on the snow. Despite being dead, the dancing lessons you took were not for nothing. Why, you could probably even surpass the best dancer of the 1800s! Excitement filled you as you imagined yourself waltzing with your lover, showing him everything that you were capable of. Many men loved a talented woman, and you weren’t about to let yours down.

Perhaps you were a bit too immersed in your daydream, because your foot got caught under a tree branch and snapped your entire lower leg off.

“Ah!”

You let out a small yelp, tumbling onto the soft, thick snow. Horrified, you looked up towards your husband still standing on the snow- you couldn’t let him freak out over a small accident!

But he didn’t seem to realise what had happened; instead, his back was faced towards you.

Embarrassed, you quickly reconnected your leg, and resumed your graceful twirl around him. The wedding dress that you always donned flowed behind you, adding extra elegance to your dance. You felt his eyes on you- he was definitely intrigued by your charm.

The next moment, warmth landed on your shoulders, and your husband gently sat you down on a fallen log in the snow. 

If you had a heart, it definitely would’ve skipped a beat. His gorgeous blue eyes and stunning ginger hair must have been a gift from the gods themselves. Chuuya Nakahara sure was a man admired by many, and he chose you. Life finally seemed to favour you this time.

“... I think I should prepare my parents for the big news of our marriage. I’ll go ahead, and you can wait here.”

His azure eyes stared into yours, patiently waiting for your response. His hands had lifted off from your shoulders, but you didn’t pay it any mind. Just simply being with your spouse was enough for you.

“Perfect! I’ll stay right here.” You smiled at Chuuya with the innocence of a child. He looked taken aback for a moment, but it was gone as quickly as it came. 

Seizing this opportunity, the male quickly stalked off through the forest, running towards the only person that he knew would help him. You giggled a little at his rush; you weren’t going anywhere, afterall. The thought that the male wanted to introduce you to his parents as quickly as possible brought a smile to your face.

The minutes slowly dragged by. What once was gleeful anticipation soon turned into bored waiting, with nothing changing in your surroundings. With your cheek propped in your hand, you let out a small sigh, wondering what on earth was taking Chuuya so long.

“This is the voice of your conscience. Listen to what I say. I have a bad feeling about that boy.”

Your pupils widened a little at the sudden voice, but you quickly rolled your eyes once you realised who it was. Lifting your hand towards your head, you knocked a fist against it several times. It didn’t take long for the culprit to tumble out.

“You know he is a little- AGH!”

The culprit being a small green string-like thing that shot out of your ear and into the snow. 

It was your close friend, Maggot, who lived inside your head ever since you died. And quite literally, too. You couldn’t recall a day in the Land of the Dead without him interjecting with sarcastic remarks that only you could hear.

“Go chew someone else’s ear for a while. Chuuya’s got to see his parents, just like he said.” 

You were a tad bit irritated at what Maggot implied. How could he think that your dear husband was a liar? Chuuya was anything but that. Your friend, however, clearly thought otherwise.

“If I hadn’t just been sitting in it, I’d think that you’ve lost your mind-”

“I’m sure that Chuuya has a pretty good reason… for taking so long.” 

You sighed a little, and that didn’t go unnoticed by Maggot. You’d never admit it, but you were starting to wonder if the worm was right in some regard. What if Chuuya got attacked or ran into trouble?

You brushed that thought off. Your husband was obviously stronger than most men around; why, he probably could defeat an opponent twice his size without breaking a sweat. But that still didn’t stop the slight bit of panic that settled within you.

“Well, why don’t you go ask him?”

Maggot’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, and you gazed back at him indignantly. 

“Alright, I will.”

If he was so desperately insisting that Chuuya was a liar, then you’d have to prove him wrong.

Oh, how naive you were to not believe a word of what he said.

~~~

The fire crackled in the hearth, casting it’s pleasant heat into the room. Coldness could not come near it, for the flame merely devoured the frost before continuing to burn as brightly as before.

Not a word was said between the individuals that sat in front of the fireplace. Countless thoughts were running in Chuuya’s mind, mashing together in one confused heap. It didn’t help that butterflies fluttered in his stomach at what he was planning to say next.

“Yasuko… I must confess that I was terrified of marriage this morning.”

The female blinked. Sensing her confusion, the male continued speaking.

“But upon meeting you… I felt that I should be with you always. And that our wedding couldn’t come sooner enough.”

It was the truth, afterall. Even when they had just met each other, the spark of attraction between them could not be denied. She was surely the yin to his yang, the key to his heart, and his complete other half that he had been searching for his whole life.

“Chuuya… I feel the same.”

The girl whom he was properly betrothed to smiled at him. A real smile, one that was full of life and not death. Despite being born to snobby aristocratic parents, she was a true diamond amongst the rubble. Kind, polite, and courteous- whoever married her would strike gold.

“Yasuko…” He murmured, his gaze not leaving hers.

Slowly, she started to lean in, closing her eyes. 

Chuuya’s heartbeat quickened as he unconsciously drew her in. They were so close… their breath upon each other’s lips. Just a second away from getting lost in the bliss of love and forgetting everything that stood in their path. 

Suddenly, Chuuya stiffened, turning his face towards the window. 

Yasuko’s lips met his jaw instead, and her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Opening her eyes, she noticed that her lover’s gaze was focused on something behind her. But before she could turn her head around, Chuuya’s warm hands cradled her face. 

Cerulean blue eyes met lovely brown ones, each having their own questions to ask.

“Yasuko, you must understand that this is all rather unexpected-”

He was cut off by the booming sound of lightning. Both individuals turned toward the window, which was forced open by none other than… you. Stepping into the room, you lifted the wedding veil from your face, hope evident in your demeanour.

“Darling, I just wanted to meet-”

Two pairs of eyes stared back at you in horror. Like you were a monster- an unwanted being who was the object of disgust.

You noticed the girl standing behind Chuuya, and your eyes widened to the same size as hers. No doubt shocked at how accurate Maggot was about the male.

“... Darling, who’s this?”

Barely containing your anger, you sauntered over to your husband, clinging onto his arm. If you had blood, it would definitely be boiling by now- but you weren’t going to embarrass yourself in front of Chuuya today. No, you absolutely had to stay calm and show the woman who she was messing with!

“Who is she?!”

Looks like she didn’t have an inkling about you either. Well, no matter. Letting go of Chuuya’s elbow, you presented your bony arm in front of you with a proud smirk.

“I’m his wife.”

Your gold ring shone brightly on your fourth finger, a signet of the vow that bound you with Chuuya forever.

The girl looked towards him in disbelief.

“Chuuya?-”

“Yasuko, hold on, you don’t understand. As you can see, she’s dead. It was clearly a misunderstanding-”

A misunderstanding?

He was cut off as you yanked him towards you, eyes narrowing in ire at this ‘Yasuko’ girl. Your husband wasn’t off the hook, but for now, you couldn’t risk Yasuko stealing your love away from you. Heartbreak was not an option this time.

A shadow loomed over your face, lightning striking the sky as if in response to your fury. 

You uttered the word that could bring this madness to an end.

“Hopscotch.”

A murder of crows immediately surrounded the two of you, magic already working upon the utterance of the order. Amidst the chaos, you didn’t fail to notice how Chuuya called out to Yasuko, his arm outstretched towards her. 

Your feet touched the solid ground of the Elder’s office, the last of the crows flying away after their duty was finished.

With all your might, you pushed Chuuya away from you, hands curling into fists at your sides.

“You lied to me! Just to get back to that other woman!”

The male merely lifted his hands up, gesturing towards you.

“... Don’t you understand? You’re the other woman.”

“!” 

It was as if a sudden jolt of electricity had zapped you, only leaving behind your stunned self. Eyes widened in stupefaction stared at the one you once thought loved you.

In your incredulity, you desperately attempted to convince him otherwise.

“No! You’re married to me; she’s the other woman!”

Clear, salty liquid brimmed in your eyes, blurring your vision to be a mixture of jarring colours. You turned away from him, unable to hold it in any longer.

“A-and I thought… I thought that this was all going so well!”

Your sobs filled the air- great convulsing gasps that masked the sound of teardrops hitting the ground. Nobody said or did anything, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. The last thing that you wanted was pity from the one who betrayed your trust.

“Look, I’m sorry, but this just can’t work.” Chuuya approached you cautiously, not wanting to provoke you any further.

“Why not?” You spun around to face him, stifling your tears.

“Under different circumstances, then probably it can work out. But we’re just too different. I mean, you’re dead.”

“... You should’ve thought about that before you asked me to marry you!”

Shaking his head, Chuuya throwed his hands up with exasperation.

“Why can’t you understand that it was a mistake? I would never marry you.”

Silence filled the air. Time seemed to stand still, as if preparing the moment for a camera to photograph. And how you wished that everything could just freeze in place- to suspend those feelings that tore you inside out.

Chuuya himself seemed dumbfounded at what he just said. He knew that he should apologise, offer you a better explanation than that; but he found that he couldn’t form any words. No amount of lies could ever cover up the truth once it was exposed.

He readied himself for your shouting, your tears, your unbridled anger at the nerve of him daring to go back to the one he truly loved. And he deserved it, because nothing could excuse the fact that he hurt you. Even when it was all just one big misunderstanding.

But instead of reacting in the way he expected you to, you merely sighed in defeat and walked off. Not noticing the way Chuuya gazed at your disappearing self.

It didn’t take long for you to find a place to be alone. The dead may be many, but the underworld was vast. You could always sit down on an empty coffin with nobody in a ten metre radius from you. Perfect for a broken-hearted lonely soul.

Bringing the bouquet of flowers beside you up to your face, you gazed at the blossoms with disdain. Their beautiful patterns only seemed to mock your ugly fate, cursed with never being loved as someone’s bride. Life, which was mostly cruel, decided to trample you under its feet. Always waiting for the perfect opportunity to crush your dreams and hopes in a single second.

With a scoff, you lifted your other hand, and started to pluck away at the florets one by one. The petals fell freely through your fingers, landing onto the ground without a care in the world. Becoming nothing but a nuisance in someone else’s path.

“Roses, for eternal love. Lilies, for sweetness. Baby’s breath…” You inhaled shakily, fighting back the lump in your throat. 

With a sigh, you tossed the bouquet away, head lowered down in melancholy.

“Maybe Chuuya’s right. Maybe we are too different.” You muttered sorrowfully, looking at your palms. One of old flesh, and one of bone.

“Maybe he should have his head examined. I could do it.”

Maggot crawled onto your shoulder, looking earnestly into your eyes. You didn’t even have the heart to roll your eyes at his statement.

“Oh, but he does belong with her. That little miss living, with her beautiful cheeks… and her beating heart.” Propping your head in your hands, you gave a bitter chuckle.

Hope. Something that was desired by all- both alive and dead.

Most people hoped for a happy and stable life. Some aspired to be wealthy and successful. Others wished to keep what they had as of present.

You had simply hoped for a husband who truly loved you.

That dream made you scoff now. Every last bit of hope you harboured had vanished alongside your ‘husband’s’ love and concern. He was no better than your previous lover, who had promised you a lifetime of joy and fondness if you’d run away with him.

How foolish and naive you were to believe that he was genuine. It was only after he had left you for dead did you realise that you’d played right into his trap. A bride whose dreams were stolen from her, and who never got the chance for proper justice to be delivered.

You’d have thought that Chuuya would be different- that he was finally the one to fulfil your hopes of being married. Being loved and cherished by him for eternity as you shared wonderful experiences together as husband and wife. Modelled as the perfect couple whom the souls in the Realm of the Dead smiled at, commenting on how cute the two of you were. Were things as common as those too much to ask for?

You wanted to be the girl that Chuuya looked at with genuine love in his eyes. Just like that ‘Yasuko’ girl you met earlier- whose stupidly beautiful eyes and sickly sweet face had captivated your lover in the first place. Just what did she have that you didn’t have double? Good looks? A lovely personality? Simply being alive? She probably couldn’t dance half as well as you did. 

Yasuko wasn’t even wearing his ring. The very same ring that you now held in your palm, begging to be placed back on the hand of its rightful owner. Did it matter that you were the one who Chuuya said his vows to? Not anymore, because he clearly adored his other woman more than you.

You slowly laid down in the coffin, your vision going blurry once again. Although you didn’t have a physical heart, you could certainly feel it breaking. Even when you were dead, it seemed that you still had some tears to shed.

Maggot watched you worriedly, but he didn’t know how exactly to comfort you or cheer you up. Nothing he said or did could deny the obvious truth. The truth that sat on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be let out.

You loved Chuuya, but he wasn’t yours. Because…

“I’m always the bridesmaid, never the bride.”

Would really appreciate feedback on this ❤️ Not too proud on how I wrote this tbh

@circinuus @little-miss-chaoss @sariel626 @rusmii @atlasnessie @luvfy0dor-main (sorry if I forgot to tag you ;w;)

[amyutz]

Secret Santa Fic "Snowflakes in his Hair"

Molly and Sherlock walked down the dark London street on one cold, winter evening. Molly slipped on an icy patch and Sherlock grabbed her arm to steady her. As they continued walking, he kept his arm linked through hers. 

She said, “Greg put on a lovely holiday party! After the stressful year we’ve all had, it was great to see everyone relaxed and just enjoying themselves.” 

He replied, “Yes, Gavin did an adequate job fulfilling societal expectations for a Christmas party. There were plenty of mince pies, repetitive holiday tunes and various forms of alcohol. What more could one want?” 

She giggled, “You didn’t seem to want more. You helped yourself to more than several cups of that mulled wine.” 

He said, “You had 4.3 cups, or approximately 1350ml of mulled wine, which had added brandy, only stopping when Sally Donovan commented that you were competing with Rudolph for who would have the reddest nose.” 

Molly hiccupped and said, “I thought that was very rude of her. I didn’t have that much. On the other hand, Phillip Anderson did, did you see him challenging the Christmas tree to a staring contest? He then accused it of cheating because he said the lights were distracting him.” 

By this time they had arrived at Molly’s mid-terrace home’s front door. She stood on the one step that led to her front door and said, “Thanks for walking me home, Sherlock. This time of year it gets dark so early!” 

He nodded. “I wanted to ensure that my favourite pathologist got home safely from George Lestrade’s first annual holiday party.” 

She asked, “Why was the party at Greg’s this year? I forgot to ask, but normally you have a party at this time every year.” 

“Mrs. Hudson is doing renovations on my flat, replacing the lino. Apparently, the experiments I performed with corrosive acid ate through the flooring. Just because you could see straight through my floor into the kitchen of her flat, she thought it necessary to replace the flooring, and is sending me the bill! It’s very annoying, the whole place has been off limits for over a week!” 

Molly was surprised, “Where have you been sleeping then?” 

He said, “The first few nights I didn’t sleep. I was working on a case and I needed to stake out a high street shop. The ‘Paws and Relax’ pet groomers was an obvious front for smuggling uncut diamonds into this country hidden inside the dog collars.” 

She smiled, charmed, as always, by hearing about his eccentric cases. 

He went on, “But the lack of sleep couldn’t continue, so for the last few nights I’ve been sleeping on John and Mary’s settee. But our goddaughter has been teething, and her cries have been preventing me from a solid night’s sleep.” 

Molly responded, “Poor Rosie! Well why didn’t you tell me about this? I have a lumpy sofa that you are free to sleep on. I even have my grandmother’s hand crocheted mauve blanket that you can use.” 

Just at that moment, a cold wind blew and little bits of white started floating down from the sky. Molly saw a few small snowflakes settle in Sherlock’s dark hair. Without thinking, she reached out to touch them. She realized she had never touched his hair before, although she’s often fantasized about the dark curls. She’d wondered if he used products to make his hair stay in those perfect, sexy waves, but his hair felt soft and untouched by mousse or gel. 

She started as she realized she’d been fondling his hair, and was surprised to see that he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was smiling at her and he said, “I’m tired of kipping of people’s sofas, what I’m looking for is a real bed to sleep in.” 

Maybe it was due to the wine, maybe it was due to the magic of the snow in his hair, but Molly leaned forward and did something she’d been wanting to do for years: she kissed him. 

To her surprise and delight, he didn’t pull away. In fact, his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her closer. Her hand stayed in those dark, snowy curls. The kiss continued and deepened. 

After quite a long time, she pulled back and murmured, “Looking for a bed, eh? I have a double and I’m sure there’s room for two.” 

He put his hand up to brush a snowflake from her hair and said, “Excellent, I was hoping you’d say that.” 

[jackiequick]

Blah Blah Blah [ Once Upon A Time Fanfic] ❄️

Pairing: Snow White/Mary Margaret Blanchard x Prince Charming/David Nolan

Set during Season 4, Episode 11 - "Shattered Sight"

Characters: Cadence, Anna, Kristoff, Regina, and Baby Neal.

Summary: With the spell cast, tension runs high as Snow, David, and Cadence are trapped in the Storybrooke police station, bickering and revealing hidden grudges.

Note: I just wanted to have some fun, I didn't think much of it, it's some of my favorite scenes from season 4. Also I just wanted to make Cadie the annoying little bitchy sister in this fic haha

Click here to get to know Cadence Nolan

------

The spell was cast. People were pissed off. Outside in the town of Storybrooke, everyone was partially trying to kill each other. Inside the station that had just a few seconds ago been filled with smiles and laughs, now held eye rolls, yelling, and full-blown surges of anger.

Snow and David were seated, separated in cell blocks next to one another. Cadence was handcuffed to a front table, near Kristoff who sat on the other end of the table as she was trying to smack the crap out of him. Meanwhile, Anna, who wasn’t affected by the curse, paced back and forth, keeping watch, sort of stressed out.

The only one calm was baby Neal, who was peacefully napping, without a single care in the world.

“Finally, I’m seeing you clearly,” Snow stated with a scoff.

“What do you see?” David replied with a half-smirk.

“A fraud. A shepherd who has no business being royalty.”

“Well, I see a spoiled little princess who ran away from her troubles. WHO ALWAYS RUNS AWAY.”

“I can’t believe I had a child with you.”

“Who knows? Maybe you didn’t? Could be Whales!”

“Oh, shut up! You’re one to talk, David. You ran away from the farm and the castle more than anyone,” Cadence yelled, standing up but being pulled back to the table.

“Whose side are you on?” David yelled.

“Neither! You fell for THAT little brat? Katherine was much better.”

“KATHERINE?! You never liked me,” Snow shouted, “You were jealous because I stole your brother from you and that your EX-boyfriend’s mother hated you.”

“Oh, please." She remarked, "You fell for the wrong TWIN BROTHER! You thought it was JAMES NOT DAVID for months, he lied. You lied back.”

“At least I didn’t shoot my man!”

David glanced at her, “Your man? Oh look, she cares!”

“Shut up, I wasn’t talking to you!” Snow yelled, turning back to his sister-in-law, “So?”

“You shot him with a bow and arrow. You’re an annoyed little princess who thinks she’s always right. NEWS FLASH NOW, you ain’t. If you were right, you wouldn’t have married him or met me,” Cadence yelled.

“YOU LITTLE—you never let anyone help you.”

“I should’ve left you to drown years ago in that lake.”

“I should’ve let you get caught by those wolves.”

Both girls kept arguing with David jumping in shouting at both his sister and wife.

Kristoff rolled his eyes, “If this is what marriage is like, I’m glad you keep postponing ours.”

“You were gonna marry him, Anna?” Cadence asked with a laugh.

“Oh, don’t you start.”

“He sucks.”

“Hey!”

“He farts so bad, never shuts up about his reindeer and oh—“

“DON’T.”

Anna sighed, “You know what? I’m gonna go find my sister. And you two stay here, where you can’t annoy anyone. Expect me with your words.”

“You ran away from me! Anna, he’s a cheater, you wanna marry that?” Cadie said, spilling the beans.

Anna gasped, “You cheated on a princess, Kristoff?”

“He moved to Arendelle the next day.”

“I’m so sorry. Kristoff never ran away from me…I think?”

“That’s because he always had a thing for redheads, sweetheart.”

Kristoff shouted, “HEY! That’s it! You are a spoiled little rat-”

“You’re the one who couldn’t settle on a career!” Cadence yelled back

“You were a child farmer.”

"And you chose to be around ice and snow. You know who can do your job better? January!"

“Ice work seemed better at the time! So I studied it!”

“The whole town is FROZEN! Why are you selling ice for?”

“Farmer.”

“Stable boy.”

David and Snow kept fighting, while Kristoff and Cadence kept bickering. Anna tried to handle The Charming couple, but Snow kept making remarks, saying she was a murderer, causing Cadence to snicker with David barking over her.

Anna said sheepishly, “But you’re in love right? That has to count for something.”

“Love?! Ha! The moment I met her, she hit me with a rock!” David shouted.

Snow sighed, rolling her eyes, “Someone slip me a poison apple and put me out of my misery.”

Kristoff yelled, begging, “Me! Pick me.”

“Oh, shut it, Iceman!” David barked.

Kristoff bit back, “Oh ‘Iceman’? Who are you calling ‘Iceman’, ‘Stableboy’?”

“You! AGAIN the whole place is frozen! What are you selling ice for?!”

“IT’S MAKING ME GOOD MONEY!”

“You left us like it was nothing!”

~~~~~

It went on for a while. Until a certain figure showed up. Running into the station dressed in a black gown, was Regina with a fierce growl and a smirk. Cadence scoffed, Snow and David looked annoyed, Kristoff was searching for something to knock himself out with, and Anna was plain out confused.

Cadence muttered, “This is gonna be interesting.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my lucky day. I originally came here to kill Emma, but now I get to kill the two idiots who started it all! And their personal sidekick!” Regina yelled.

“HEY!”

“You know who you are!”

“I served your ass for years.”

“But you went running back to them.”

David scoffed, “Well, in our defense, we didn’t tell Cora about your secret boyfriend.”

“Yeah, it was her!” Cadence agreed, pointing to her sister-in-law.

Snow furrowed her brows and remarked, “ARE YOU SELLING ME OUT?!”

“SHUDDAP! You all deserve to die, not just for what you did, but for your whining!” Regina shouted over them, pointing around to the trio, “But your punishment should fit your crime. You took my first true love from me, and now I’m gonna return the favor. By taking your baby.”

The trio yelled and shouted over one another for Regina to stop, as she poofed Kristoff and Anna away, throwing Snow’s door open and tossing Cadence into the same cell as her brother.

Snow and Regina squared off, with swords. The fighting soon commenced, dueling out in front of the shared cells. Soon enough, Regina towered over Snow nearby the desk. Across the desk stood the stroller.

“CAREFUL! The stroller's not under warranty anymore.” David called.

Snow strained, “You said you bought it new!”

“It was slightly used!”

Cadence recounted, “It was gently used!”

Snow grunted, kicking Regina off her, swaying the sword towards her midriff as she pushed back.

Regina glared, “Tell me when you’re tired of missing, Mary Margaret.”

Snow half-smirked, “I only have to hit you once.”

She swung and missed, Regina pushed her away, and both slipped on the flooring of the station. They used everything around them to fight: stacked papers, clothes, and small figurines. One of them was a tiny dog and a deep blue sweater.

“Hey!” Cadence called out.

Snow looked over her shoulder, “Is that my sweater?!”

“You never used it.”

“I was saving it for an occasion.”

“Like when?!”

Regina looked around to see if Cadence stole anything from her as well. However, as she was distracted, Snow took the upper hand, wrapping her arms around the woman and slamming them both against the cell block.

David and Cadence tried to take the upper hand, helping Snow as Regina pushed herself away from the trio.

The fight kept going back and forth, with David and Cadence watching like two school kids. They tried breaking out of the cell, but it was no use.

They screamed and shouted the whole time, even making remarks to Snow and Regina.

“Uppercut! Lock her onto the table,” Cadence yelled toward Snow. “Seriously?!” David looked at his sister.

“I’m helping!”

“At least tell her to swing the sword upwards to cut her cheek or something!”

“Oh, good idea! Snow, do that!”

~~~

Suddenly, a burst of magic flew across Storybrooke, hitting the Police Station, causing everyone to feel like they were slapped across the face and pushed forward like they were asleep. Breaking the short spell.

They all looked around, oddly confused, seeing swords in hands, papers on the floor, small figurines, and the front desk being pushed backwards.

Regina looked down at herself, seeing herself in her Evil Queen dress with her hair all messed up and dropped her sword. Cadence saw herself snickering as it turned into a set of giggles and laughter.

Regina looked ridiculous, honestly.

“What am I wearing?” Regina asked.

Snow looked at her, breaking into a small fit of chuckles that turned into laughter, followed by Regina laughing alongside her.

David was leaning against the bars of the cell, snorting and laughing so hard, he rolled onto the floor.

~~~~~

That's all folks! Let me know what you guys think Remember to like, comment and share

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff Paul @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @djs8891 @starkleila @cherrysft @mandylove1000 @yetanotherwells @topgun-imagines @hardballoonlove @buckysteveloki-me @sherloquestea @nakiaswg @carellmcu @ximehs @sofia-falcone @rooster-84 and etc

[creatchie8]

Yellow Soul: Chapter Two

Amaranth

Chapter Summary: A routine Sunday morning turns unexpected as you and Rhett meet in secret away from your families.

Pairing: Rhett Abbott/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI! Protected PinV sex! Cheating! Religious talk/references to Christianity!

Word Count: 6,000ish

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - Masterlist

Breakfast between your parents went better than you expected, not that you had a set list of things you thought was going to go wrong. Perry of course charmed them as always. Whenever he was around them, a charismatic switch flipped and he had them wrapped around his finger. 

You didn’t eat much at the diner though, nerves having you on edge.

Rhett’s words swirled around in your head like stew, replaying the moment over and over again in your mind. You must enjoy torturing yourself. While everyone was talking and eating, you couldn't bear to even touch your french toast sticks. Now, you were looking at everyone else’s choice of breakfast and beginning to get envious of them. 

The sticky syrup was just too much for your throat, causing you to sputter and choke every time you try to eat one- causing you to eat none.

Feeling miserable, you played house the rest of the day at the Abbott ranch, much to your dismay. Every time Perry came up and tried to act all domestic with you, your skin crawled. 

Rhett was nowhere to be found, (un)fortunately. He was not in his room when you checked, nor was he outside in the snow or in the barn. You did not want to ask where he had gone, the actual knowledge might make you feel even more upset. 

His truck had not come back even by the time you had gone to bed, eyes flitting past his dark room as you went to the Perry’s across the hall. Your sleep was little, causing you to toss and turn in that tiny bed with rough sheets. 

You watched the sun rise through Perry’s window. Once it was an appropriate time to get out of bed, you jumped at the chance. Because you did not sleep even an hour, your body was filled with that odd buzzing sensation, making you sick to your stomach. 

To make Sunday worse, you failed to pack a pair of tights to go under your church clothes. It really wasn’t a problem, especially since you packed a pretty wool skirt that went a little below your knees. 

Hopefully they plowed the church parking lot this early. 

Church always makes you nervous. After you moved, you promptly stopped going. No one is forcing you to go now in Laramie. But when you are back in Wabang, you go with your family to keep them happy. It wasn’t like you judged people that did go, but you could name a hundred reasons why you didn't like it. 

But there you were, listening to Pastor James with his bible on the podium. He looked up to punctuate a point, eyes scanning his audience. 

The Abbotts and your family took up the back two rows of the sanctuary, Perry and you right in the middle of a row, second to last, separating your family from his. 

Rhett showed up when you all did, surprisingly enough. Cecilia must have convinced him to go no doubt, not wanting to be the cause of her son’s declined entry to heaven. The close proximity was enough to tense, watching him through the corner of your eye. 

He stayed for a tiny bit, through a few songs and not a moment more before getting up and walking out, ignoring his mother’s quiet protests. His smell lingering by you as his knees brushed yours. 

You watched him leave, chewing your bottom lip between your teeth. 

It was always an adventure at church. One of your older sisters still lived in Wabang with about a dozen kids. Okay, maybe you were exaggerating. It was more like five, but they were all under eight, making it impossible to have a moment of peace. One of the toddlers sat on your lap, babbling something to you while he reached for the collar of your turtle neck. 

He was cute, but you were thankful you decided to forgo hoop earrings because he would absolutely be pulling on them. An older niece of yours ran down the aisle, squealing as her older brother chased her. All the grownups had given up a long time ago trying to control the kids. 

Pastor James’ voice got louder as he started to come to the climax of his sermon, raising a single fist in the air. Perry leaned closer to you, his lips tickling your ear. You kept your eyes glued to the podium.

“You act so good with them.” He mumbles, insinuating your nieces and nephews. He laid his arm across your shoulders, the anchoring feeling from last night at dinner returning. Giving him a side glance and a soft smile, your attention turns back to Pastor James who was shouting now.

“I can see you now, pretty with our babies. Comin’ to church with me every Sunday.” Perry whispers, reaching his hand out so the little boy on your lap can grasp at his fingers. 

It was like someone poured ice water down your back. It was hard to breathe now, all your senses catching up to you. 

Perry’s arm heavily on your shoulders, your nephew pulling on the neckline of your top, a niece or nephew kicking the back of your seat, sickly sweet floral perfume, the heat from the furnace blowing directly on you, Pastor James’ voice ringing through the room. 

Light headed, you grabbed onto the edge of your seat, white knuckling the material.

Pastor James paused, then announced something, his words complete gibberish in your ears. Suddenly, people were starting to stand up around you, even Perry. Looking up, you saw him open the hymn book that was resting on his lap during the last sermon. 

Standing up slowly, you steadied yourself on the backrest of your seat, carefully resting your nephew on your hip. 

As the congregation started to sing, it was your final straw. The hymn book that Perry held was moved so you could see it too. The words were completely foreign to you, blinking to see if they could get in focus. Knees on the verge of buckling, you shoved your nephew at Perry, who gladly accepted him. 

He had no idea what was going on in your head.

“Need to go to the bathroom.” You whispered in his ear, mouth dryer than the sahara. 

Leaning down, you snatched your purse from where it was hanging on the back of your seat. As you walked past your mom she gave you a worried look, so you mouthed ‘bathroom’, eliciting a simple nod from her. 

Pushing open one of the double doors that led you to the lobby you stopped for a moment, evaluating the space to see if it was enough for you to calm down in. Singing voices seeped through the heavy doors and it was still much too hot so you made a beeline for the exit. 

It was still outside, that perfect stillness that you craved and so badly needed. The adrenaline pumping through your veins didn’t let you feel the cold so you just stood there on the concrete, hands bunched in the top of your skirt. You were practically gasping for air, your exhales dissolving in front of you in the form of steam. 

Looking up at the sky, the tiny snowflakes dissolve on your hot skin and create little droplets on your face. Still you were swaying, rocking from one foot to another. Your heart rate started to slow, clearing your head of panic. You did not know how long you had been standing there, but it was long enough for the Wyoming winter to seep through your clothes and skin. 

Too unsure of what could be waiting for you inside the church, you stumble into the parking lot. Perry and your two families also parked in the back, save for your sister who parked at the front so her kids didn't have to walk as far. 

After nearly slipping on a patch of ice, you made it to your parent’s truck. Wiggling all four handles, hoping that they left it unlocked. Next was Perry’s, who you knew did not leave the doors unlocked, but you still tried anyway. Now your hands were frozen solid and it looks like you have no choice but to go back inside the church or freeze to death. 

The latter seemed more appealing right now. 

You hang onto the driver’s side door handle for another moment, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, head hanging low. Trying your hardest to regain your composure.

Head still low as you turned around, back pressing against the freezing metal of the vehicle. Your head tilted back, connecting against the window with a soft thump. Deep blue eyes meet yours and you stop breathing, your own eyes going wide as you see him. 

You hadn’t noticed that Rhett’s truck was still in the parking lot, nor had you noticed that he was still in it. The ice blocks that were your feet suddenly melted a bit, letting your feet carry you to his truck. Only breaking eye contact to avoid stepping on chunks of snow that didn't make it to the pile they had shoveled on the edge of the lot. 

Rhett unlocked the door as you approached, the clicking sound echoing and mixing with the ground crunching under your feet. Stopping before the door, skirts swishing around your legs. Your thumb rubbed over the chrome handle, hesitating a moment before popping the door open. 

The truck smelled like his room, a spicy cologne mixed with raw earth. It was cleaner than you assumed it would be, the gray interior was only frayed in a few spots. 

Grabbing a hold of the handle near the frame, you pulled yourself in, shutting the door promptly. 

Adjusting your skirt, which had twisted around your waist uncomfortably, pulling off your purse and dropping it in the footwell. The silence sat heavy between the two of you, your eyes focused on your hands that twisted in your lap. Rhett was turned in his seat, facing you. The truck isn't running, but providing enough shelter from outside.

“Did you lose somethin’?” Rhett asks, voice low.

“No… Church just isn't my favorite.” 

“Me neither.” He turns back to face the steering wheel.

Silence. 

“Where were you yesterday?” You asked, turning back to the windshield. 

“Out.”

More uncomfortable silence.

“I’m really sorry for going into your room the other night-” You blurted out, glancing over at him, “I just got confused in the dark.” 

The other night, in his bed. The other night, when his touch marked you like a branding iron. 

You only saw it for a second, but you could have sworn he smiled. Lips quirked up the tiniest bit. 

“ ‘S all good. Hope Perry wasn’t too jealous.” Rhett tittered, pulling a weak laugh from you.

“Perry didn’t even notice. He was asleep when I came in.” You laughed, slowly relaxing in his presence. But his brother’s name left a sour taste in your mouth. 

The face you made must've been unknowingly expressive, Rhett now intrigued. 

“What, don’t like my brother?” He asks, a teasing smile on his lips. 

The beginning of strife is like letting out water [as from a small break in a dam; first it trickles and then it gushes]; Therefore abandon the quarrel before it breaks out and tempers explode. Proverbs 17:14

The two of you were never close. It was always you and Perry, or him and Perry. Perry was like the string of fate that connected the two of you together. Never would you tell him that his older brother had made your life a living hell for almost the entirety of your relationship. But after that morning, talking to Rhett like a man rather than the second son of Royal Abbott, made you see that he was changed. 

From that morning you were proved by him that you were not just some silly older girl that he knew, but someone that he had observed from a very young age as a beetling figure in his life. Rhett didn't delve deep into his likeness for you at the dinner table, but you did face sonder sitting in that poorly cushioned lemon chair. 

It wouldn't hurt to tell him, right? He knew Perry’s antics better than anyone, he knew that he could be overbearing. If it wasn't going his way, Lord knows he would do everything in his power to bend it till it did.

So you told him. A lot. Admittedly, more than you should have. 

“... and I don’t even know why I’m telling you this because you’re his little brother!” You finally finished, exasperated and flinging your hands up in the air, the gravity of your situation finally falling down on you. 

He looked like he was weighing his options, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Sounds like my brother.”

“What?” You falter, “That’s it? That’s all I get from you?”

“I dunno what you want me to say! All he does is talk about you!” 

With those last words, you could feel his breath dance over your face. While you talked, you had unknowingly leaned across the center console. Rhett must’ve not noticed the sudden lack of space between the two of you because he made no move to retreat, his steely eyes locked on yours. There was no more than a foot and a half separating your faces.

Rhett’s eyes flicked down to your lips, which you instinctively pressed together upon realizing. He looked back to your eyes, squinting them a bit to try and read your mind. It was blank, completely silent for once. Just studying how his nostrils flared when he breathed in, how his jaw muscles moved when he clenched his teeth. It was mesmerizing, really. 

“You don’t look at all like how I remembered you.” You whispered, hyper aware of the close proximity, “What happened?” It was a real question, your eyebrows furrowed. 

“I grew up.” Rhett shifted even closer. He smelled good. Really good. 

“Oh.” You murmur dumbly, but it was all you could get out. Your brain was short circuiting, trying to come up with an excuse out of this clearly dangerous situation. Rhett Abbott, three years your junior, was all grown up. 

Your stomach churned as his chapped lips parted, letting out tiny puffs of warm air that landed on your chin. Swallowing a thick lump that got caught in your throat, you tried to think of Perry, you really did. Think of how much you want to be devoted to him, how much he’s done for you. 

How much you feel trapped, how much you want an escape. 

Want. Want. Want. 

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” Rhett phrased it as a simple question, no demanding tone was found in his voice. Was he thinking the same?

I want you, Rhett Abbott.

“I need-.” The words were barely audible over the blood rushing in your ears. You should be ashamed of yourself. Disgusted and humiliated. But you didn't, you only felt a craving. 

“That’s really not good.” Rhett mumbled, closing the distance between you.

“No, it really isn't.” You whined desperately, immediately closing the gap and shutting your eyes. Your body was split in half. One part screaming no, one part screaming yes. 

The kiss was gentler than you expected for the atmosphere of lust that was clinging to both of you. Rhett’s lips were warm and cautious. He tasted like lingering wintergreen gum. 

Hands were still kept to themselves, both brains purely focused on the soft, slow kisses you exchanged. He nipped your lower lip, testing the waters. In response you let out a tiny sigh, which seemed to egg him on. The kisses gradually turned messy, open mouthed, hot, the importance of accuracy slipping away like sand. 

In a sick way, it was freeing. The feeling of Rhett’s stubble scratching over your skin was like a painful pleasure, eliciting a whimper that was swallowed up by his lips. Not even in the early years of you and Perry dating had you ever felt such a feral need to be with him, to feel hot all over. 

You were the first to reach for him. Half blind, fisting his cardinal red flannel, the material soft and thick in your hand while the other was splayed on the passenger seat. Rhett let out a huff of surprise. You could hear his hands move off the center console and he grabbed the lever attached to it, then clicked a crisp noise. He broke the kiss to lift it up, the object no longer in anyone’s way. 

Heavy panting filled the cab of the truck. Rhett looked slightly disheveled. Shirt wrinkled where you grabbed him, lips wet and swollen, pupils dominating his irises. The sudden loss of contact was almost too much to bear.

The truck windows were starting to fog. 

 But, like two magnets you snapped together again, simultaneously scrambling to meet in the middle. 

Everything around you melted away. The kiss, this time with a million times more intensity than your first. Teeth clacked together, both of your hands going directly to his long hair. More desire pooled in your lower stomach as you pulled on it, Rhett awarding you with a low moan as you tugged his dark locks.

He squeezed your breasts through your white turtleneck, his large hands easily kneading them even with your bra in the way. Knees knocking together, he continued kissing down to your jaw, teeth leaving nips but soothing them with his tongue. 

One of his hands shot up and grabbed your chin, forcing your head over to the side as he kissed along what was showing of your neck. 

“Oh my God-'' You hushed your voice, eyes half-lidded and looking up at the ceiling. His mouth threatened to leave hickies, but you knew he wouldn't. Still, the thought of it sparked excitement in you, Rhett marking you up and the thrill of trying to hide it from his brother. 

Your fingers were now carding through his hair, letting out a breathy whine and scratching his scalp when he nibbled at the sensitive skin under your ear. Your core was throbbing so intensely it almost hurt. 

Giving his hair one final tug, your hands trailed down to his chest. It wasn't enough, you needed more of him. Palms dragging down his chest to his abs, the feeling of them flex involuntarily gave you a confidence boost. Granting you enough courage to let one hand trail down to squeeze his thigh, the other cupping his hardening length. 

Rhett leaned his head back from your raw neck and whispered out a plethora of curses as you rubbed him through the stiff confines of his jeans, letting go of your chin. Eyes darting down, you take in a shuddering breath.  

“Can I?” You ask, looking up at him. Your thumb was toying with his buckle.

“Fuck yes.” 

With shaky fingers, you undid the giant brass belt buckle, clinking a very satisfying sound as you got it undone. You only fumbled slightly with the button on his jeans, but after that it was smooth sailing undoing his zipper, his hips bucking up as he heard the noise. He was rock hard and you had barely touched him yet, his gray boxers straining to contain him.

Normally, you avoid the size conversation when possible. You don’t even like to encourage your friends to tell you the size of the men they had one night stands with. 

Truthfully, it just depended on your skills. Even the smallest guys can make you feel good if they know how to use it. 

With that mindset, you were still shocked when you pulled his cock from his underwear. 

It wasn’t like he had the biggest dick you had ever seen (one time your roommate chased you around the house with her phone in her hand, begging you to look at the dick of some rando she met on Tinder).

You dragged your palm down his length, circling your fingers around it and testing the weight in your hand.

“You’re gonna kill-” Rhett starts but stops short. A ragged sigh is pushed from his lungs as you grip his dick harder, jerking him off with more intention. With every upstroke you can feel his cock twitch, his thighs tensing on the downstroke. 

Looking up at him sends a quiet shiver down your spine. Freckled cheeks flushed, the tiniest beads of sweat gathering on his brow. It was a sight that made you drool.

 Rhett was watching your hand, seeming almost enamored by your movements. 

“Kiss me.” Your words come out shaky and soft, barely getting Rhett’s attention. His eyes are half-lidded when he looks up at you, blinking before leaning towards your lips. 

The kisses were messy. Mouths open and tongues sliding easily against one another, neither one fighting for dominance as you continued your rhythm on his cock. 

“What time does church end?” You ask, muffled.

“Eleven forty-five.” Pause. “We still have time.” Rhett replies between kisses.

When you finally pulled away, a string of spit connected your mouths. Rhett rested his forehead on yours, his eyes still closed. It burned against yours, his lips parting and letting out ashamed whimpers. You are fascinated at the sight of his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, the veins bulging on the backs of his fists. 

“Fuck- I want you inside me. So bad.” You whisper, your lips barely brushing over his. Your hand stills, awaiting his response. 

Rhett groaned, the noise coming from deep within his chest. You didn’t even notice that he opened his eyes till he was pushing you back with a hand on your knee to the passenger seat. Watching as he lowered the console with a soft thump and with shaking hands grabbed a shiny foil packet out of the top compartment. The way it glinted between his rough fingers flipped your stomach as everything became less hazy and more real. 

“I- I am on birth control… I just-” You started, trying to explain- something? You weren't sure where you were going with this thought. 

“ ‘S alright, safer this way.” He glanced up at you through his eyelashes. 

“I’m so fucking wet.” You announce softly, your thighs squishing together, feeling your slick soaked panties spread wetness everywhere. 

A feral snarl was ripped from Rhett’s throat as you said that, the noise startling you. His hands gripped your sides, pulling you impossibly closer as he bit your bottom lip. You gasped and he pushed his tongue in, renewed with vigor to have you around him.

“Where-” You exclaimed as one of his hands gripped your upper thigh, “-do you want me?” He was now massaging your ass though the wool skirt, calloused fingers digging into your tender flesh. 

“Backseat.” He muttered into your mouth, giving your bottom lip tiny nips, “So no one can see us.” 

You nodded and pulled back reluctantly, watching Rhett tuck himself back into his boxers.  It wasn't easy to hold your excitement as you shifted back into the passenger seat eagerly so he could lower the center console. He leaned over it, grabbing his Stetson from the backseat and tossing it on top of the dash. 

If you weren't so fired up and full of lust right now, the sight of Rhett clumsily climbing over the console with his jeans unbuttoned would have made you laugh out loud. But right now you could only think of relieving the awful ache between your thighs.

Rhett’s fingers flexed on his thighs after he was satisfied with where he was, looking at you with an expectant gaze full of passion. 

Without thinking, you turned so you were facing the fogged front windshield, bracing your upper back on the seat and lifting your hips up. Shucking your skirt up and over your thighs, the cold air wrapping tightly around them. Your fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, just simple and plain, before pulling them off. Cold hit your dripping core, pulling a noise from your throat as you shivered slightly. 

You tried to ignore the growing damp spot in the cotton as you crumpled them up before opening and shoving them into Rhett’s almost overflowing glovebox. 

You kicked off your flats, leaving them in the footwell full of melting snow before hauling yourself over the barrier. Rhett reached a hand out which you grabbed instinctively, his palm warm and a tiny bit sweaty from all the activities done so far. 

With your hand now in his, Rhett took the opportunity to pull you into his lap, almost not giving you enough time to settle your knees on either side of his thighs. It almost was too much, being this close to him. Sure, earlier you two were kissing and breathing the same air, but now it seemed… personal. Real. 

Rhett’s hands went to your lower back, his fingers slipping under your top and skimming along your skin. 

Reaching down, you fanned your skirt out around the two of you, letting it fold up near your hips and drape down Rhett’s legs. He watched your motions, palms connecting with the tops of your bare thighs and rubbing upwards, making your pussy throb intensely. 

He hadn't even come close to your dripping core and you were already incredibly desperate, letting your head drop onto his shoulder to your right, biting back broken sobs. 

You about cry when he completely bypasses your pussy, his hands busying themselves with taking off his jeans, slipping them down to his knees. Rhett’s thighs are warm against yours, flexing when you settle down on them again. His weeping cock rested against his stomach, looking painfully hard. 

The condom stretched over his thick cock and you couldn't help but gawk, hands becoming sweaty. 

“He won’t know. No one will. I promise.” He said with assurance, but even with this display of confidence, you could see right through it. See that he wanted you so badly but was wary of the consequences. His lips brushed against your ear where you still held your head against his shoulder, kissing your cheekbone. 

Something about the false sense of certainty in his voice rose your own, a warm glow of determination flooding your body. You lifted your head off his shoulder and nodded, licking at your dry lips. The corner of Rhett’s mouth twitched into a smirk, something so devilish you wanted to smack it right off his face. 

He grabbed his length with one hand and your hip with the other, urging you forward as he shifted down a bit to come right under your pussy. Spitting into your palm, you grabbed his dick, spreading the thick saliva over him in place of lube. You would have paused here if you weren't in a time crunch. The reasonable part of you would have tried to stop, tried to tell you that this was the most irresponsible thing you have done in your entire life. 

But you were in a time crunch, at least that is what you told yourself as you lowered down, whole body rejoicing as the head of his length swiped through your wet folds repeatedly. He was hot, leaving a trail of fire along your needy cunt.  

Truthfully, you had about an hour left until church was over and everyone would come streaming out of the building. 

Rhett pushed his hands under your skirt and dug his fingers into your ass, blunt nails cutting into the soft skin. The tip caught on the notch of your entrance, pulling a gasp from you. You lined him up right, sucking in a deep breath through your teeth before slowly letting it out your nose as you sank towards the base. 

Rhett bit out a string of curses as you engulfed him, jaw slack.

It made you dizzy, the stretch of his dick filling you up, your slick coating him as you went down. You paused halfway, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't long till you eased yourself around his length fully, trying to get your tense muscles to relax. Immediately, you reached down and rubbed your clit, praying that the pleasure would quickly override the uncomfortable reach. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” Rhett grunted out as you started to move once you felt you were accommodated enough. You looked up at him and let out a weak chuckle, all the moisture in your mouth evaporating. The easy glide of your pussy was making each thrust effortless, bottoming out sending stars through the base of your spine every time. 

 He was so goodamn fucking handsome, looking up at you like you were a goddess, worshiping you by kneading your ass mercilessly.

After a while, your thighs started to burn. It was an achy pain that only fed the pleasure.

Moving your fingers from your clit, you ground down on his pubic bone. The wholeness of his cock knocking breath from you, feeling like the tip was pushing against your cervix. It was sore in the best of ways. His hips bucked up slightly, chafing your engorged bundle of nerves and making you whimper at the friction. The pleasure making you dip your head to his neck and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“You feel so, so good.” You blurt out against his neck, lips moving over the sweaty expanse of his skin. Unconsciously, you were still riding him, partially helped by Rhett fisting your hips and slowly thrusting upwards. Your fingers tangled with the hair at the base of his neck, tugging with each lazy upstroke that filled you to the hilt. It was practically heaven.

The heat tingled all across your back, marking you like little pinpricks of fire. After pressing a lingering kiss to his neck, you raise your head to look at him. Rhett’s head was back, laying on the head rest with his mouth parted to let out barely audible noises. 

His eyelashes were fluttering, so long and thick, it made you jealous. 

“So good, so fucking good.” You babbled, willing yourself to regain the speed you were at before slowing, breasts bouncing and hardened nipples rubbing roughly against the fabric of your nude bra. Rhett smacked your ass under the skirt, the sting making you cry out, a jolt of white hot pleasure slicing through your belly. 

“ ‘m gonna mark you up, make that pretty ass of yours so fuckin’ red-” Rhett growled, drawing back and spanking you again, the sharp sound ringing through the heavy air along with the increasingly louder wet sounds coming from where your bodies joined. 

“Rhett… oh fuck-”

His name tasted familiar on your lips. You thought it would sting like a rattlesnake bite but crying it out in pleasure washed your mouth with a tangy sweetness that mimicked the strawberry rhubarb pie that was made as a staple of spring. 

Year after year Cecilia would make it, setting a hearty slice down in front of you and her boys. Giddy, you would kick your feet while stuffing your face, washing the flaky crust down with cold milk. In this memory, Rhett sat across from you, much like dinner a few nights ago. Secretly, you shared a smile with him, watching as he grinned back, the crimson goop sticking to his teeth in odd spots. 

Perry did not like strawberry rhubarb but hated being left out, so it was something that you and Rhett shared. Even up to your teens, you'd bound down the stairs, Rhett already crowding the kitchen, giving you a smile that seemed as easy as breathing. 

A harsh nip to your throat brought you back to reality. You were suddenly hyper-aware of the humid air making all exposed skin sticky and hot.

The heavy skirt was doing nothing to muffle the sounds beneath it. Your vision was getting blurry, Rhett’s name mixed with moans tumbling from your mouth. 

Another crack rang out, followed by a taboo sob being ripped from your throat. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the composure you once held now slipping away. 

Slipping away felt like you were drowning in a sea of hot bliss, and you were doing everything not to go under. Weakly you grasped at his chest with your free hand, the other still knotted in his silky hair. 

“Does Perry know you’re this dirty? That your cunt gets so fuckin’ wet when you get spanked?” Rhett had a ferocious gleam in his eyes, nails scratching down your lower back. 

His words ignited a fire that burned just below your skin. Perry did not know, and you were positive he never would. Selfishly, you never wanted to share this discovery with him. It would be Rhett and your secret, just like a strawberry rhubarb secret. A dessert only loved between you and him, something that Perry would never understand. 

“No- fuck- no he doesnt.” Your heart was beating out of your chest, threatening to explode. The exertion was making your thighs quiver, riding him becoming less calculated and more messy as you tried to keep your eyes open to watch him. Rhett growled at your words, his nails pressing crescents into your soft skin.

Your brain had turned to mush, all thoughts leaving your pretty little head as you gazed at Rhett through a dreamy state. His eyelashes fluttered, blinking up at you. 

Somehow, you managed to gain enough strength to release his button-down, hand clumsily shucking your skirts up even more. The pads of your fingers messily draw abstract shapes to try and stimulate your abused clit, frantically trying to snap the taut rubber band inside of you. 

Rhett saw what you were doing and swatted your hand away. Before you could protest he ground the pad of his thumb into your clit, overstimulating you in the best of ways. 

Head rolling back onto your shoulders, you yelp at the force, reaching out to steady yourself on the backrest behind him. 

It was only a short minute until you were hyperventilating, dropping your head forward so your chin was to your chest.

“I’m coming, I’m coming-” You gasp meekly, “Please don't stop, dont-” Your eyes were scrunched shut, the band so close to snapping.

“Look at me, let me see your face.” Rhett pressed his thumb harder, his voice cracking on the last syllable, he was close too. You obeyed, pathetic embarrassing whines spilling out of your numb mouth as you forced your eyes open to look at him. He held your gaze, white teeth chewing on his bottom lip while his cheeks were flushed a dark red, blotches trailing down his neck. 

Unexpectedly, the band snapped and you doubled over, slouching against his chest. It was magnificent, all of your nerve endings becoming live wires as flames of pleasure licked at your body, Rhett’s name on your lips.

 It was better than you ever had before, the feeling of complete and utter bliss right down to your bones. The high left you shaking and gasping. Rhett rocked you through it, pressing kisses to your clothed shoulder. He was holding your hips still as he fucked you, the feeling of your fluttering walls getting him that much closer to his own release. 

“Where- where do you-?” He asked hoarsely, thumbs rubbing the burning skin of your hips as you came down from your high.

“Inside.” You whispered quietly, still in a heavy brain fog of lust.

That one word was all Rhett needed to have a spark ignite in his chest again, pounding into your sloppy worn out pussy with enough force it made you wrap your arms loosely around his neck, trying to hold on. You were still wet enough so his dick just eased in and out without a problem, heavy breaths and wet slapping noises filling your ears.

Rhett grunted harshly, his hips stuttering as he came, pressing your ass down to the hilt so you were filled up with every last drop. If it was even possible, you felt even more full than before. His dick twitched inside of you, filling up the condom. 

The feeling made you moan, prideful in the way he gasped and pulled you close, your name quiet on his lips like a prayer only for himself. 

Loosening his grip on your body after he was done, you yourself almost fully recovered but exhausted from your orgasm. Rhett was a vision, blissed out and quiet with his eyes closed, loose strands of hair stuck to his face. 

You didn't want to leave. For once you enjoyed closeness, letting Rhett pet your back as both of your highs wore off. But you needed to go, as much as it pained you to pull away from his body, the only thing keeping you warm from the Wyoming winter. 

-

Later, when you’re walking out to the parking lot again, this time hanging onto Perry’s arm, you scan the parking lot for Rhett’s truck. He wasn't there. Of course he wasn't there, you heard him drive away after you gathered your things and left. 

Not daring to look back. 

Guilt settled deep in your stomach, tugging on your heart when you met up with Perry in the lobby you fled. His face lighting up and pulling you close to him. 

In the bathroom you had tried your best to wipe away Rhett’s scent. By the time you were done scrubbing the soft skin of your inner thighs were rubbed raw. 

See me on AO3 as Creatchie8 too for a full list of tags & more!

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Sunday, November 24th

Cordelia: Why is it always virgin women who have to do the sacrificing? Wesley: For purity, I suppose. Cordelia: This has nothing to do with purity. This is all about dominance, buddy. You can bet if someone ordered a male body part for religious sacrifice the world would be atheist (snaps her fingers) like that.

~~The Shroud of Rahmon~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

A New Dawn in LA by crowncitydreams (Angel & Dawn, G)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Heartless, Chapter 12 by LSquared1501 (Buffy/Angel, T)

A Reincarnation in Sunnydale, Chapter 56 by DracoRim98 (Buffy/Angel, M)

The Right Swipe, Chapter 16 by DancingAngel0013 (Giles/Buffy, E)

After Life, Chapter 13 by Alwaysandforevermylove (Buffy/Faith, E)

Thin White Duke, Chapter 23 by CorsetedPrincess (Willow/Tara, Harry Potter crossover, not rated)

Forged in shadows, Chapter 9 by CloudSeeker (Angel/Lindsey, E)

The Prophecy, Chapter 5 by bookxish (Buffy/Angel, E)

Okay Dad, Chapter 4 by Work (Giles & Scoobies, T)

Opposite Attraction, Chapter 3 by MamaBewear (Angel/Spike, T)

Smoke and Leather, Chapter 9 by EagleAlwaysFliesAlone (Spike/OC, M)

For Science, Chapter 1 by mattilamb (Buffy/Riley, E)

Falling Into Darkness, Chapter 1 by FriedaBerlinFan (Spike/OC, not rated)

I noticed I had butterflies again, but this time I realised what was causing them, Chapters 1-2 by ImALeafOnTheWind (Willow/Tara, T)

The Transfer, Chapter 8 by Blackmysteria (Buffy/Spike, R)

Guitar Villain, Chapter 7 by RavenLove12 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Incarnate, Chapter 23 by Sigyn (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Degradation of Duality [Series Part 2], Chapter 63 by Ragini (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

The Great Escape from Oz, Chapter 8 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Be Back Before Dawn, Chapter 18 by Blissymbolics (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Sold Out, Chapter 8 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Ties to the World, Chapter 38 by The Danish Bird (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Let's Casually Change the Timeline, Chapter 4 by ClowniestLivEver (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Perfect Clarity, Chapter 30 (complete!) by VeroNyxK84 (Buffy/Spike, R)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: Anya, Buffy, Drusilla, Dawn by x66r9u (worksafe)

Photo edits: Angel and Willow by kishinuma-yoshiki (worksafe)

Cosplay: vampire Willow by lauren-delorean (worksafe)

Comic video: Buffy Season 8 Episode 23 Preview Buffy VS Simone by Game Series

Fanvid: Buffy & Spike Channel - 1Million Views by Buffy & Spike Channel

Fanvid: Buffy & Angel || Hey mama by Wanda Snow

Fanvid: Spike & Buffy | Beautiful Trauma by KcchameleonProdz

Fanvid: Harmony & Drusilla (Spike+ Buffy) | Before he cheats by Tara's_Willowverse

Fanvid: Buffy the Vampire Slayer | Dancing Queen by Tara's_Willowverse

Fanvid: Buffy e Angel {AMV} Million to one//Camila Cabello by Vanessa Machado

Fanvid: Buffy the Vampire Slayer | Shake it off by Tara's_Willowverse

Fanvid: Waka waka | Buffythe Vampire Slayer | Comedy video by Tara's_Willowverse

Fanvid: Buffy the Vampire Slayer | House of Memories by Tara's_Willowverse

Fanvid: Tara x Willow | Buffy x Angel | Señorita by Tara's_Willowverse

Fanvid: Spike - Immortals by William Pratt

Vidlet: Buffy the Vampire Slayer | Warriors | Final battle by Tara's_Willowverse

Video: Editing random Buffy the Vampire Slayer scenes! | Part one by Tara's_Willowverse

Video: Editing random scenes from Buffy the Vampire Slayer | Part two by Tara's_Willowverse

Video: Editing random scenes from Buffy the Vampire Slayer! | Part four by Tara's_Willow

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 4 Opening Credits (Charmed Style) by Rotten Lemonade

Animation: Disney Channel Ribbon era: Buffy the Vampire Slayer next bumper #2 (FANMADE) by lovinthelawn

[Reviews & Recaps]

S5. Ep8. Shadow by becomingbuffypodcast

‘Listening to Fear’ by becomingbuffypodcast

One of the biggest faults of ‘Into the Woods’ by becomingbuffypodcast

S5. Ep11. Triangle by becomingbuffypodcast

Video: The Reckoning begins...and it took 12 years to get here by Matt Likes Comics

Video: S4E13: The I in Team by One Girl in All the World

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV Series): Why Is It So Great? by Fangs and Folklore

Video: Dirty Girls-Slayer Sunday by Jane Talks Buffy

Video: Ted as Blue Beard - Bluebeard, Buffy, and the Beast by Fairy Tales and Fangs

Podcast: Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season 3 Episode 8 - Lovers Walk - Audio-only by Sh*t 90s Shows Taught Me

Podcast: Episode 176: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997) by Queers Gone By with Caitlin Powell and Kate Butch

Podcast: Get It Done S7 E15 Buffy and the Art of Story by Lisa M. Lilly

Podcast: The Slay Lounge Podcast Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 1, Episode 1 by PirateCorps Entertainment

Podcast: Once More, With Spoilers: 1.01 Welcome to the Hellmouth | A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Podcast by Buffering: A Rewatch Adventure

Podcast: Once More, With Spoilers: 1.02 The Harvest | A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Podcast by Buffering: A Rewatch Adventure

Podcast: Welcome To The Pilot (Buffy The Vampire Diaries, Staffel 1, Folge 1) by Buffy The Vampire Diaries (in German)

Podcast: Restless by Buffy the Vampire Straya

[Recs]

Vid rec: let go • connor & angel by Winterevanesce {Kitty} recced by Priceless

[Fandom Discussions]

why did they give connor newly out trans girl swag by all-seeing-ifer

thinking about making a pack au where they actually stick closer to hyenas than whatever the fuck they did in that episode by camellcat

i still think about dru killing kendra by drusill

buffy telling tara "i can't believe i let spike do those things to me" by lesbianmarrow and dykemarcille

i think oz had the funniest character arc on buffy the vampire slayer by gestaltthing

Five unpopular opinions about the Buffyverse by kyliafanfiction

Spike saying I don't want the world destroyed because I like what's in the world by imissthembutitwasntadisaster and magpie-trove

spike and buffy would go to gay bars with willow and tara to attend drag shows by selkiemaidenfae

So little makes sense - does S5 have the weakest written Big Bad storyline? continued by MoonLight SY-3

Any ideas on what could have been done with Doyle if Glenn Quinn wasn't fired? continued by multiple posters

The Other Hellmouth continued by vampmogs and Stoney

Season 4 of Angel by Remote_Cat_5155

Did Angel and Spike receive martial arts training? by FoxIndependent4310

Tara and Willow by Familiar_Recover8112

This Could be Incredibly Stupid but ... [Tara and Willow making The First corporeal] by Expert_Frosting_8920

Five Minutes in and Buffy’s Already Relatable (2x21) by STheUselessLesbian

Giles Murderer by RecentCash7142

Is there a scene where [Spike] says he's done being crazy? by AggressiveSea7035

Just watched Season 5 episode 10 [Into the Woods] by Specialist-Orchid-80

Buffy rewatch with a new partner by annayek3

Innocent victim of the day [fawn killed by Willow] by timmorris82

Buffy being broke by SpeedHot3049

Why Giles, and not someone else? by No_Introduction_4136

Spike Once Rudely Said by Past-Throat-6788

Bezoar? Persimmons and Buffy monsters by EnvironmentOk5610

Xander's Riley speech in "Into the woods" by dacm1980

How big is Watchers Council staff? by dacm1980

My only gripe with season 7 by Realistic-Advance472

In Family.... [cousin Beth] by wonder181016

It should’ve been Andrew by purplemmmmm

I feel like in the later seasons Xander became Buffy’s go to friend rather than Willow by mavelits

Podcast: Does Buffy have tragic taste in men? (Part 2) by A Girl, A Guy and A Buffy Podcast

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[ash-and-books]

Rating: 3/5

Book Blurb:

’Tis the season to fall in love…

Best friends Leo Foxbrooke and Ella Chamberlain love Christmas and each other — in a strictly platonic way, of course. The only secret they've ever kept from each other is a mutual crush they had when teenagers. But the timing was never right.

Until now…

Dumped by her boyfriend, Ella’s facing Christmas homeless and alone. The only ray of sunshine in her life is Leo and his family, who welcome her into Foxbrooke Manor. Staying in the bedroom next to Leo’s is a luxury and means more time together prepping for the Christmas pantomime.

Leo always plays a side role, while Ella paints the sets. But as the clock ticks down to Christmas, they find themselves centre stage as Cinderella and Prince Charming. Rehearsal kisses between best friends should be easy, right? So why do they feel so real?

Ella can’t risk losing Leo when she’s already lost so much. But as the Christmas countdown heats up, hearts melt, and practice kisses turn into much more. With Leo and Ella falling for each other faster than the snow outside, maybe this Christmas, they can finally rewrite their friendship and unwrap true love…

Christmas off Script is a friends-to-lovers, forced proximity, steamy, standalone romantic comedy with a modern-day Cinderella, her swoony Prince Charming, and more heat than chestnuts roasting on an open fire… No cheating or cliffhanger, but all the Christmas feels, a sackful of lols, and a fairytale happy ending guaranteed in this fabulously festive and magical romcom!

Review:

Two best friends and a Christmas to remember as their mutual secret crush on each other finally comes out. Ella Chamberlain and Leo Foxbrooke have been best friends since forever.... but they have one big secret between each other: they both secretly have a crush on each other. Yet years go by and they never act on it...until this Christmas in which Ella's been recently dumped by her boyfriend and kicked out of her home, so she is going to be staying with Leo and his family. Ella's going to be helping Leo with his Christmas play... and when they both are cast as Cinderella and Prince Charming, all the rehearsal kisses re beginning to feel very real. Yet Ella is afraid to lose Leo as her best friend, especially when she's lost so much already but can she find a way to finally embrace the romance thats been there all along? This was a fine Christmas friends to lover romance. It just felt fine, it didn't wow me or really get me attached but it wasn't bad or terrible, just fine.

Release Date: November 4,2024

Publication/Blog: Ash and Books (ash-and-books.tumblr.com)

*Thanks Netgalley and Emlin Press for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[audioaujom]

Demetrius v. Robin

Stardew Hub, < prev, next >

Proud member of the Demetrius hate club!! Lmao jk, he has just always kinda rubbed me the wrong way and I don't like the way he interacts with Sebastian in canon. Guess it just makes me wonder, and when I wonder bad things usually happen lmao

Word Count: 1464

Chapter TWs: Abusive language/behavior

--

“Hey Maru, what do you think of my snow goons?” Stepping back from the carefully shaped lumps of snow and jagged sticks, Sebastian grinned as he called out for his half-sister across the yard.

“Don't mean you snowmen—” Maru started to correct, cutting herself off as she turned and saw the monstrous creations in front of him. “Oh. No, yeah, those are snow goons.”

“Do you like them?” 

“No, they're ugly.” She laughed, rolling her eyes and going back to carefully arranging the stones to make a smile on her much more traditional-looking snowman.

“C’mon, they're not that bad!” Sebastian whined, approaching her to stand and watch over one of her shoulders. “It’s all a part of their charm.”

“I bet they have very nice personalities.” Maru commented carefully, watching as Sebastian’s jaw dropped in feigned angry shock from the insult.

“This is beginning to border on slander, which I did not ask for.” 

Maru turned around to look at him, head cocked to the side with a small smirk. “But you did ask for it.”

Sebastian frowned, brows furrowed. “That’s it.” 

Maru opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by a face full of snow, looking to see Sebastian bent down and packing together another snowball to throw at her with a grin. She smiled as well, immediately reaching for the nearest patch of snow to return fire.

Robin was kneeling on the floor in the main room when Demetrius came in, holding a fire poker in one hand and a freshly cut log of firewood in the other. The fire in the fireplace was no more than a few flickering flames, her sighing in frustration as it didn't seem to be catching.

“Hey, I'm gonna head outside and check on the kids.” Demetrius informed with a smile, leaning down to give Robin a light peck on the cheek as she worked. “To see when they want dinner.”

“Thanks.” Robin smiled gratefully, stoking at the slowly dying fire. “You’re the best.”

Grabbing his puffy jacket from where it was hanging on the coat rack by the door, Demetrius stepped outside into the winter chill to see where his daughter and step-son had run off to since they ran outside to… play? He wasn't sure what they were doing, actually.

He never really knew what Sebastian was up to at any time, anyway.

The scene outside to a normal observer would have been rather domestic and cute, the half-siblings engaged in a wild snowball fight—snow sticking to their faces and hair as they laughed and ran around the yard like children.

But for Demetrius—

“What's going on out here?” His yell interrupted the two siblings, them both turning to look at him with matching startled expressions.

“Not much, I'm just absolutely owning Maru in this snowball fight.” Sebastian shrugged lightly, turning his attention back to the snowball in his hand that he then launched at Maru without any warning.

“No way! You're so cheating!” Maru complained, barely ducking out of the way before throwing her own held snowball back at him—which he dodged easily.

Demetrius sighed at their childish behavior, placing his hands on his hips as he tiredly asked, “Why are you two fighting, anyway?”

“She said my snow goons were ugly.” Sebastian crossed his arms, huffing as Maru puffed up in annoyance.

“Because they are ugly!” 

“I agree, and I think you should take those down before your mother sees.” Demetrius shook his head disapprovingly, gesturing at the set of snow goons as he said, “We wouldn't want anyone coming by the house and seeing… that.”

Maru’s expression dropped, the playful mood killed in an instant. “Wait, what?” 

“I'm not taking them down.” Sebastian frowned, levelly holding Demetrius’ gaze. “I made them for fun; what's the big deal?”

“The big deal is your attitude.” Demetrius’ gaze hardened into a glare, him stepping over to the nearest mound of snow with a confident, “If you won’t take them down, I’ll do it myself.”

“What— Hey!” Sebastian ran over as Demetrius kicked one of the creations over, his work boots splattering the carefully molded snow back into the yard.

“Don’t try and stop me, young man.” Demetrius warned as Sebastian got between him and the other snow goons, pissed.

“You’re being unreasonable!” 

“Who’s really the unreasonable one here?” Demetrius asked with a sigh, punching the bridge of his nose exasperatedly. “The one concerned about our family or the one mouthing off?”

“You’re such an asshole!” Any further complaint from Sebastian was cut off as Demetrius swung a backhanded slap at his face, sending him crashing to the ground of the front yard with a startled yelp.

“Dad!” Mary chastised, worry for her brother sending her running inside to find her mom. The other two didn't pay her any mind, too focused on each other to notice she left.

“You don’t get to talk to me that way!” Livid, Demetrius wound back for another hit only to be cut off by the front door opening and two figures running out to interrupt.

“Demetrius? What’s— Sebastian!” Robin immediately focused in on the fact her son was holding his face from where he was crumpled on the snow-covered lawn, running over and dropping to her knees to get a better look. “What happened, Sebby? Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Sebastian answered sourly, letting go of his face so his mom could see the bright red impact on his cheek. “Your shithead husband hit me for making snowmen.”

“Excuse me?” Torn between her bubbling worry and wanting to scold him for his language, she finally turned to Demetrius to ask, “Demetrius, is that true?”

“It was his fault for talking back!” Demetrius defended hotly. “I was simply concerned about our family's image—”

“Bullshit.” Sebastian growled from the ground, carefully standing back up to his feet to accuse, “You've always had it out for me!”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have had to ‘have it out for you’ if you didn't deserve it!” Demetrius fired back, Sebastian ready to continue the argument until he saw his mom stand up beside him and dust the snow off her jeans.

“How dare you speak to my son like that!” She yelled, stepping between the two men without missing a beat. “This type of behavior is not welcome in my house!”

“Don't be unreasonable, honey.” Demetrius’ anger instantly disappeared from his face as he stared at Robin, hands out as he tried to placate, “If he apologizes and offers to change his attitude, I'll—”

“There will be no such thing!” Robin didn't even let him finish, the two half-siblings sharing a glance of surprise as they'd never heard their mom this angry before. “You can find somewhere else to stay until I'm willing to talk to you about this!” She glared, before whirling around and hugging Sebastian over the shoulders worriedly. “Let's get you inside, Sebby. You too, Maru.”

Reeling from the shock of being kicked out so easily, all Demetrius could do was dumbly stutter out, “Why wouldn't she come with me?” 

“Cause I don't want to.” Maru answered immediately, gluing herself to Sebastian's other side as Robin guided them back into the house. “You’re acting crazy, dad. I'd rather stay with mom and Sebastian.”

Demetrius reached for his retreating family with one hand, the back of it tingling as none of them turned to look and disappeared inside.

“Maru, can you go grab your brother some ice?” Robin asked as she helped Sebastian out of his wet jacket and set him by the fire she’d barely managed to get roaring.

“I'm fine, mom.” Sebastian tried to protest, but the tame glare she sent his way had him swallowing the words back. “Nevermind.”

“Sorry, I'm not mad.” She apologized, sitting down next to him to put her head into her hands. “Well, I'm not mad at you.”

Sebastian chewed awkwardly on his bottom lip for a moment. “I'm sorry. It's my fault all of this started, if I'd just—”

“Nope. I won't hear it.” Robin cut him off with a firm shake of the head, gently reaching out to cup his uninjured cheek with one hand and giving him a soft smile. “We’ll figure this out, okay? But he is not allowed to treat you like that.”

At that moment Maru popped her head into the main room, one hand holding an ice pack from the freezer as the other gestured back over her shoulder towards the kitchen. “I brought some ice. I also put a pot of coffee on, it should be done soon.”

“Thanks.” Sebastian smiled up at her, taking the ice pack as Maru took a seat on his other side and the three slowly let themselves be warmed up by the steadily growing fire—and each other’s company.

[lovecanbesostrange]

ouattober2023 Day 3: Fav Story Arc

I have enjoyed this show for the most part, even including S7. I think the switch to half-season arcs was good to keep it all fresh and not drag out things for too long. S4 being split into Frozen and Heroes & Villains was fun. But there just is no question. The arc I care about most, that I go back to rewatching for funsies, that I have the most (positive) feelings about (and some concerns/criticism) - Season 1: The Original Curse. The intertwined storytelling of everything that led to Storybrooke springing into existence and how Emma gets to know the town, breaking the curse as she was meant to do.

Unlike other arcs this is far broader, I have to acknowledge that. The 22 episodes of S1 allow for far more sidetracking. And later some details get revealed to prop it up (for this I'm thinking about stuff like Welcome to Storybrooke, a long overdue look at what it was like for Regina before).

Personally I still go so far to say, that the first season of Once Upon a Time is simply A+ tv. I absolutely recommend this to anybody who wants to have some fantasy-romance-family-fun. Well, okay, so S1 has some very, very dark moments (Graham's death for example).

They won me over with a thing I didn't expect - the Snowing romance. I'm sorry, but a lot of tv is as sophisticated as the Avril Lavigne song goes "he was a boy, she was a girl". Bang, there, that's it, that's the couple. (And I do believe even this show got super lazy with this.) But here we have Snow White and Prince Charming. Yes, of course they are a couple. They need to be. We all know that. True Love! True Love's Kiss! This is the kind of given couple I do not expect to be shown any type of friendship formed. Or an explanation why they think of the other. It just is. But they give us episode 3 Snow Falls and I am so in. Because yes, okay Snow being a bandit and a badass with a bow, totally capable of fighting and taking no nonsense - definitely checks some boxes for me. But Charming is also fun and smitten with her and I can see why they care. She uses the powder to save him. And they both have other things in their life, they can't spend time with this random person - and then they live rent free in each other's head. I believe in the stupid "I will always find you" concept. It is used again and again and still it's always sweet, throughout the show.

If you watch only the Storybrooke parts it seems so old and tired how the nice mousy lady fell in love with a coma patient, making things up about him in her head probably. And then he's married, she gets called a tramp and omg this cheating storyline. But with the fairytale underneath? Knowing they are in fact very actually cursed? This is their punishment and it is supposed to be terrible and hurt? WONDERFUL! David can't just leave Katherine, the curse won't allow for that. There is no easy solution, this has to be painful. We get something like 7:15am and at the end of the episode Mary Margaret and David try so desperately not to see each other, they are both in the diner at 7:45am. ROMANCE!! I am just rarely sold so solid on the main couple, okay? So this was special to me and I indeed looked forward to the episodes to see how their (EF) romance played out. And omg Heart of Darkness is such a banger of an episode. Evil!Snow is the scariest person on this show. He didn'f take an arrow for her, he took an arrow from her.

Exploring Storybrooke is also fun for the viewer. Henry believes things are weird, Emma has rational explanations, we know the truth. It's a wonderful and quirky set-up. Small town filled with weirdness. With so many episodes there was time to put in Hänsel & Gretel for the non-Disney fairytale feel. Great. We had time to get to know Leroy aka Grumpy aka Dreamy (I always laugh when he and Mary Margaret go door to door with the candles) with his own ep (still think as a whole the seven dwarves didn't get enough recognition). You can look left and right and wonder what's everybody's deal is. The town feeling is so important. People with jobs doing stuff. It's something that is a bit lost in later seasons with the focus on the core group, who are all related to each other. I'm sure Archie was a very busy man in the background dealing with everybody else...

It's also amazing to rewatch those first episodes and be reminded that it takes a long, long while until the Evil Queen's motivation is explained. Daniel who? To see Snow as a girl blabber out Regina's secret to Cora - SHOCKING! To understand that these two could have been friends, ohohohoho. It's clear that Rumple plays a huge part in the whole Dark Curse thing, but I think S2 gets more meaty with him. Yet his presence alone and all the deals he keeps making add a lot of flavor.

The worldbuilding is slow, but in this the out-of-order presentation does work, because S1 is actually well planned. (Yes, OUaT is a show that suffers a bit from later additions and expanding lore, but the original promise doesn't collapse under the weight.) The nice parallel structure makes the episodes interesting and moves everything forward at a comfortable pace. They also know how to throw a curveball. Oh, this town is hidden and no stranger ever walks up? Well, yes, hallo here is this guy on a motorcycle nobody has ever met before and he knows things. And for quite a few episodes August is just there, a well planted mystery box.

In the midst of everything magical suddenly we have the episodes Red-Handed, Heart of Darkness and Hat Trick following each other. A werewolf tearing bodies into pieces (yes, thanks, spilled blood looks best on fresh white snow), a whole murder investigation and aforementioned gonna-kill-Regina-now-Snow, and oh yeah that moment where you start wondering if Emma and Mary Margaret will be killed by a psycho axe murderer and the Mad Hatter might be a slasher now... yep. this show can be a bit dark and S1 knew how to walk that line.

And one last round of applause for the fact that the Storybrooke side of the story works with almost no magic at all. Yes, Regina has a bit in her backpocket, but she's scary enough without it. Her scenes with Gold are so worth a watch. He still knows how to scheme.

Oh, and let me mention something I appreciate a lot. The show starts with Prince Charming waking up Snow White with a kiss. Fairytale! We see the happy ending first. Thrown right into it (without knowing the whole ordeal they went through to get to this point). And then we near the end of the season, ep 21 An Apple Red as Blood. Which is a great episode to me, because I love seeing Snow and her band of misfits storming the castle (group effort, we deserved more of that). This is where we finally see Snow biting that apple, fateful. Hey, it's a Sleeping Curse, cool. She did so willingly though. It was her sacrifice for the promise Charming would be save. Not even trickery (okay, maybe we need to talk about this thing with "it need to be taken willingly to work"). This is such a great bowtie to the whole thing.

This here is what it is all about: