#and I’m always cautious and safe

[hairenya]

“Don’t do nutmeg to get high you’ll have a bad trip”

Me: immediately adds nutmeg to my Instacart order

[ehnrat]

That’s it //takes your licenses away and eats them in front of you

Maybe I’ll eat your cars too

[ponderingmoonlight]

How kny men treat their pregnant wife

Pairings: Obanai x fem!reader; Rengoku x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: I went absolutely insane in Sanemi's part lmao, let me know what you think about maybe even more kny complilations in the future?🤍🫶

Obanai – super overprotective

„Darling, you really don’t have to be cautious all the time. I’m fine and it’s mid-day.”

“You never know”, the man next to you mumbles while positioning himself in front of you.

Since the day Obanai found out that you’re expecting your very first child, he never left your side. Not even at night, when he’s usually out fulfilling his duty as a hashira. And if he must go, he always makes sure that you’re not alone.

“I really don’t want to bother you, but Iguro-san sent me here to keep an eye open for you”, Mitsuri explained with reddened cheeks after appearing in front of your door at sunset.

You sign to yourself with a small smile crawling up your face. You never really realized that your husband is so eager to have a child. When the two of you first met, he acted so cold towards you that you were convinced he hated you after saving your life in your village back then. It wasn’t until he showed up at the butterfly estate on a random day and handed you a bouquet of flowers that you realized how hard you fell for that man yourself. Despite his cool and composed walls, despite always staying in the background and leaving disgracing comments from time to time. You really learned how to love the serpent hashira for the man he is: kind, loving, protective and smart.

“Why are you not coming over to cuddle me instead?”, you suggest oh so sweetly while opening your arms as an invitation.

Obanai side-eyes you up and down, his mind visibly racing behind those gorgeous eyes.

“But what if I hurt you and the baby?”, he mutters, still standing his ground.

“I’m not made of paper and the baby isn’t as well. And also, I’m carving nothing more than a hug from my husband at the moment.”

Slowly but surely, he finally turns around. As if you’re made of porcelain, he wraps his arms around you oh so gently. Have you ever seen your husband this cautious and sensitive around other human beings? You’ve seen the way he beats up the other corps members in his training sessions on a daily basis. A giggle escapes your lips before you’re able to stop it. Your man really turned soft due to this pregnancy.

“What’s so funny?”, he grumbles, his vibrant eyes set on you.

“You’re too hesitant to give me a real hug and yet, you’re beating up innocent kids during training. Come on now, I said I want a real hug!”

Before he’s able to protest, you press yourself against him with full force, allow your head to rest against his beating heart. It’s been ages since he last cuddled you the way you always loved it. With your body resting on top of his and your arms wrapped around his broad chest, everything starts to feel like home.

“Don’t you think that’s too dangerous? The baby-“

“The baby will be fine. I can handle a tight hug, darling. I really missed this…”

He shifts his weight underneath you and gently starts rubbing your back. Oh, how much you adore your husband and those sweet little moments between both of you. You never imagined to love someone like this, to fall head over heels for a man who is the complete opposite of yourself. But here you are, falling even harder day by day.

“And…you really think this is safe?”

“I’m absolutely sure it is!”

Obanai pauses for a moment, his eyes almost piercing through you.

“I think you should go and see Shinobu later”, he finally presses out.

“Come on, I already told you-“

“This doesn’t feel safe at all. We’re leaving in just a few minutes”, he continues while wrapping his arms around you.

Rengoku – the proudest soon-to-be dad

“I made you breakfast, my love!”, your husband announces while entering your shared bedroom in his plain white kimono.

“You’re way too kind, Kyojuro. You know I could have done it myself”, you reply while lifting yourself off the futon.

“Oh, let me help you up!”

Gently, he grabs your shoulders and helps you to get up. With your swollen belly, things aren’t as easy as they used to be. By now, you aren’t even able to see your feet anymore.

But it’s all worth it. He’s all worth it.

“Look at you”, he mutters with unusual low voice.

When his hand starts caressing your belly along with that loving gleam in his eyes, you almost forget how to breathe. From the day both of you found out that you are expecting a child, Kyojuro fell head over heels.

“You look so breathtakingly good, my everything. I could stand here and stare at you all day, little flame.”

It almost seems as if Kyojuro’s already heavy feelings doubled during your pregnancy. Not a single hour goes by without him telling you how gorgeous you look, that you are an angel walking on earth.

Even though you know you gained a few pounds and how swollen your face looks. He doesn’t care about the fact that sometimes, you are too exhausted to wash your hair or that you didn’t dress in something nice since your clothes started to get too tight.

Your husband adores each and every fiber of your being.

“Stop, you’re making me blush”, you giggle while playfully freeing yourself out of his strong arms.

“I’ll never stop telling my pregnant wife how gorgeous she looks! How are you feeling, my love?”

You find yourself trapped in his arms with his eyes all over you again. God, will you ever get tired of looking at him, of seeing those vibrant eyes?

“I’m okay. I just feel a little heavy.”

“I’m so proud of you for enduring all of this. Shinobu already told me this pregnancy doesn’t go easy on your body. You’re a real fighter, (y/n)!”

“A fighter? My body is supposed to do this. There’s nothing special about that”, you try to brush his praise off, cheeks already turning dark red.

“Don’t think about it that way. Your body might be equipped for a pregnancy, but Shinobu informed me about all the things you have to endure and how painful and tiring it can be-“

“Did Shinobu really explain all those things to you?”, you mutter through your hands that cover your face in sheer embarrassment.

“Of course! After all, I’m your husband and it’s my duty to support you in the best way possible!”, his beaming voice replies proudly.

“And I can’t wait to meet our little wonder.”

The second he gets on his knees, you see stars. Oh so gently, he pulls your kimono to the side and starts caressing and kissing your womb. Your knees threaten to fail you, feelings all over the place. God, you really don’t deserve a loving and caring husband like him, you don’t deserve all those feelings he holds for you and your unborn baby so openly.

Before you’re able to stop yourself, a violent sob escapes your lips.

“No love, why are you crying?”

Kyojuro meets you eye to eye in an instant, his hand carrying away every little tear that threatens to stain your face.

“It’s just…You are too kind…I don’t deserve your praise…”, you croak out.

“You deserve this and so much more. Now come on, I made you mochis with the receipt Kanroji taught me…”

You sniffle uncontrollably in his arms.

Wait, did he just say…

“You mean my favorite mochis?”, you mutter.

“Of course, little flame!”

“Oh…Then…Maybe we should get going, then…”

Sanemi – doesn’t even know yet

Fuck fuck fuck.

You stare at Shinobu in sheer horror. This can’t be true. Definitely a mistake. A cruel joke, maybe.

You…pregnant?

“Tell me you’re joking”, you mutter under your breath.

Just when you thought things between Sanemi and you started to get better, than you finally managed to live besides. Calling yourself his wife was never easy, especially due to the fact that he only married you because your family literally sold you to him in exchange for not killing you right on the spot. The two of you never seemed to get along that well.

You swallow hard. That night was an exception. You came home drunk, you didn’t know what you were doing when you seduced him, when you began babbling about something as stupid as feelings.

You swore to yourself that you’ll never fall for your husband. And now you’re expecting his child.

“I’d never joke about something like that, (y/n). It seems like somehow, you managed to get pregnant”, Shinobu replies in all seriousness while taking off her gloves.

Fuck.

“He’ll fucking kill me”, you mumble to yourself.

“Maybe he’ll skin me before that, slice open my belly like a fish-“

“Can you just stop?”, Shinobu interrupts you in all urgency.

“Shinazugawa might not be the most empathic man walking on this earth, but he also didn’t marry you for nothing. I’m sure everything will be fi-“

“Absolutely nothing’s fine. I’m fucking screwed”, you huff in frustration while yanking up.

You’re completely fucked. There’s no way in hell Sanemi will ever find out about this, not in this lifetime. You have to make sure that this stays a secret.

“Don’t you dare to tell him a single word about this, got it?”, you literally threaten Shinobu with your shaky finger pointing at her.

You, expecting a baby.

From Sanemi Shinazugawa.

Without even waiting for her reply, you storm out. Are you able to get rid of this situation? Mindlessly, you rub your belly when a new wave of memories from that fateful night hits you.

“I might l-love you”, you blurted into the room, Sanemi’s widened eyes staring at you in sheer horror.

“You…love me? Just yesterday, you told me how much you hate me”, he clarified with harsh voice.

“Are you drunk, (y/n)?”

“I…might be, yeah. But I mean it.”

Against all voices that begged you to stop, you darted towards him.

Until you sat on top of him and wrapped your longing arms around his neck.

“I love u, Sanemi.”

“I can’t believe a single word you say, shithead.”

“Watch me, then.”

It happened so fast you still can’t believe it. One passionate kiss, your hands wandering underneath his uniform, his muscular frame on top of you.

“You really want this?”, he huffed against your cheek, usual so maniac orbs filled with nothing but pure lust.

“Yeah”, you breathed out.

Urgh. You dig your nails into your hair, head spinning instantly. What kind of fuckery is this? Your first night ever and now…you’re pregnant? As if things between you and him aren’t already cringe enough.

“Why are you looking like shit?”

His oh so familiar voice makes your guts turn. For the split of a second, you are literally one movement away from puking all over his feet.

“Why are you talking shit?”, you spit at him, shoulder bumping against his as you try to get away from here as soon as possible.

But Sanemi grabs your wrist before you’re even able to think about your escape.

“Why were you at Shinobu’s? You never visit her.”

“I’m not feeling well”, you jeer at him.

“You even refused talking to her when your bone splatted out of your damn leg. Don’t fuck with me, (y/n). You didn’t come here for nothing.”

“Yeah, I really shouldn’t have done that”, you snap, violently ripping away your wrist.

This is way too much. Your family, Sanemi, that damned pregnancy. You thought this hell trip was over when Sanemi somehow managed to accept you, you really thought you could leave a rather peaceful life.

God, what a fucking fool you are.

“Hey, what the hell is going on? (y/n)!”

Just before your knees hit the ground, you feel Sanemi’s strong arms lifting you back up.

“What the hell has gotten into you!?”

“I’m pregnant!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

“All of this because of that damned night, because I lost my fucking control. I’m pregnant…”

Sanemi’s arms around you tense up immediately. Fuck, you can’t even bring yourself to look at him.

Truth is, you love that man. Fuck, you fell for him harder than you ever imagined, so badly that you can’t stop thinking about him. And that night, you allowed yourself to get a taste of him. After all, maybe this was all you need to finally forget about him, right?

What a fool you are.

“You’re…what?”

Violently you rub away the tear that starts rolling down your cheek.

“You’re…pregnant…”

“Saying it again and again won’t make it disappear”, you bark at him.

“I’ll be a dad?”

Huh? What is that unusual tone in his voice. Did Sanemi Shinazugawa really sound…joyful?

“Yeah…”, you mutter.

In the split of a second, you find yourself devoured in his arms and captivated by his glossy eyes. Your heart skips a beat, mind not able to follow the scene that lays itself out in front of your eyes. He doesn’t look angry at all, not even sad. No, he looks as happy as you’ve never seen him before.

“I can’t believe it. I never imagined this to happen”, he whispers while grabbing your face.

“Gosh, let me kiss you.”

“You want to kiss me?”, you shriek.

Despite your growing feelings for the wind hashira and those countless secret looks you’ve shared with each other, it was always a quiet agreement between both of you to never express any feelings. No hugs, no kisses, no questions. Just living side by side. Fuck, you never even allowed yourself to even gaze at his lips before that fateful night.

And now you’re lying in his arms, pregnant while he asks for a kiss.

“I mean…yeah”, you finally breathe out.

And then his lips crush against yours. Longingly, passionately, filled with so many emotions that you fail to breathe. All this time, you tried so desperately to hate that man, to hide your feelings from him in order to protect yourself. But all it took was a single night and that unexpected pregnancy to make you realize that maybe, allowing yourself to discover your own feelings isn’t that bad, after all.

Maybe, everything will in fact turn out alright.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

[ginalinettiofficial]

i think you shouldn't drive i'm being serious

love this ask first of all (/gen) but tbh i think YOU should never attempt to drive in chicago or any similar american major city IM being serious!! like i hear u 100% but 1) i’m bein a lil silly when i chit chat on tumblr dot com and 2) bein a defensive driver means keeping up w the flow of traffic and following the social rules of driving above all else and shit genuinely is different when you’re in a place with thousands upon thousands of cars on the road, a trend of road rage shootings, and a lot of dangerous weather conditions. if ur sitting in bumper to bumper traffic with thousands of ppl tryna race to not be late to work, and you don’t get close enough to the person in front of you, the people on either side of you will take that as invitation to cut you off a million times & can and do cause major crashes w it. if you brake too early in heavy traffic/leave too much space between you and the car in front of you while braking, it makes it difficult for the people behind you to anticipate the rate at which you’ll brake & causes rear enders. if you slow down too much on a turn or yellow light and it’s against the flow of traffic you run the risk of being rear ended. if cars around you are all doing 75 and you’re insisting on sticking to the 60mph speed limit you’re gonna get hit. truly most of my driver flaws are in fact things i do because i was specifically taught to do them in driver’s ed to be safer in city driving conditions!!!

that said i’m trying very much so to be more aware of if i’m tailgating outside of heavy traffic times and i’ve been told i’m doing much better w it than i used to!! & also i use my turn signal whenever it’d be dangerous for me to NOT do so - i prommy i’m just bein silly here and i strive to keep me and the cars around me safe, don’t worry

[xo100]

Where only we exist - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando Norris and his new wife, on their honeymoon, share a quiet dinner under the stars. In awe of her, he realizes that in this moment, nothing else matters but their love.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 664

*:･ﾟ A/N: it’s a little shorter then usual next ones will be normal again!

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The golden hues of the setting sun draped themselves over the intimate rooftop restaurant where Lando Norris sat, entirely captivated. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, his wife, across the candlelit table, her face glowing under the delicate lights that hung from above. She was laughing at something he’d said, though truthfully, he hadn’t been paying attention to the words tumbling out of his mouth; he’d been watching her all night, marveling at how someone so breathtakingly beautiful was now his.

They’d agreed to keep things private when they started dating. A few shared glances in the paddock, maybe a quick smile or two for those who noticed, but most of their relationship was a secret, a hidden joy shared between the two of them. They loved it that way—their little world, untouched by cameras and prying eyes. And even now, on their honeymoon, they were cautious. They’d avoided the busy streets and larger restaurants, choosing this hidden gem above the city’s twinkling lights, hoping for a moment of peace.

But tonight, as she looked back at him with a little smile that had his heart flipping in his chest, Lando found himself caring less and less about keeping their secret.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling, her voice soft with that teasing lilt he loved so much.

“Like what?” he replied, feigning innocence, though the corners of his mouth betrayed him with a small grin. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands, watching her, still in awe.

“Like… I don’t know.” She lowered her gaze for a moment, looking almost shy, though she knew exactly what she was doing, her lips curling into a smile. “Like you’re completely in love or something.”

“Maybe I am,” he said without missing a beat, reaching across the table to lace his fingers with hers. There was a tenderness in his gaze, something deep and unspoken that had always been there but had only grown stronger since the moment he’d said, I do.

Her cheeks flushed under his stare, and she shook her head slightly, the tiniest laugh escaping her lips. “You’re making me blush, baby.”

“And you look stunning when you blush,” he replied, his voice a low murmur, almost as if it were a secret just between them.

They hadn’t been together long before they realized that what they shared was different. Genuine. Effortless. And despite the constant hustle and pressure of his world, she grounded him. With her, he felt safe. He felt home. So tonight, he let himself forget about the paparazzi who might be lurking down on the streets or the speculation that always seemed to follow them.

“Lan, they’re going to catch us if we’re not careful,” she reminded him gently, glancing over her shoulder, ever aware of the possibility of cameras.

“Let them,” he replied softly, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “Let them see how lucky I am. How I’m never letting you go.”

For a moment, the world melted away—the clinking of dishes, the distant hum of city traffic, even the thought of prying eyes. There was only the two of them, hand in hand, with Lando looking at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you,” she whispered, barely audible over the soft jazz playing in the background. But he heard her, and that was enough.

He smiled, squeezing her hand as he leaned across the table, his eyes twinkling with that boyish charm that had first captured her heart. “I love you more. And no camera, no headline, and no crowd will ever change that.”

And as they sat there, sharing soft words and quiet glances, he was reminded of just how deeply he cherished every moment with her. The world outside could wait. Right now, all he cared about was her, and he was content to stay that way forever.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

[aquaticmercy]

Love in Full Bloom

Summary : Bucky thinks everything he touches dies, but the plants in your apartment prove otherwise.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : PTSD, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff!!

Requested by : myself 

Word count : 1.5k

Note : This was another idea I had to turn into a fic, inspired by all the houseplants I’ve accidentally killed rip. Enjoy!

Requests are open!

It wasn’t unusual for Bucky to lose himself in his thoughts. From time to time, you would find him sitting on the corner of the bed in the middle of the night. The memories from his past grew like weeds in his mind. He could barely distinguish them from nightmares. 

Even when he was with you, safe and in the comfort of your shared apartment, he still carried those ghosts on his shoulders. Still thought himself as a soul occupying the vessel of a weapon, like a rose with the sharpest thorns.

But to you, Bucky Barnes was far from just a weapon. He was not a monster. He was gentle, thoughtful, and kind. It hurt that he couldn’t see it for himself.

That’s why, when he agreed to move in with you, you saw it as a step in the right direction.

Your apartment has always been a safe haven for the both of you. It felt warm and cosy, the shelves full of books and plants. At least, the plants you tried to keep alive. They were struggling under your care—yellowing leaves, wilted stems, dying flowers. You were throwing root-rotted plants away monthly. Still, you bought more, hoping you’d have better luck this time.

Then Bucky moved in.

As the days passed, the plants stopped dying. Slowly, they began to thrive. The wilting leaves came to life, the stems grew strong. To you, it didn’t make sense. You hadn’t done anything differently but the plants seemed to respond to something.

Or rather, someone.

—

Today, Bucky had barely said a word, save for the quiet I love yous here and there. 

You had learned, over time, how to read his silences. But this was different—he was slipping farther than usual.

You had convinced Bucky to spar with you today, trying to keep his mind busy, preventing it from spiralling any further.

You weren’t a super-soldier by any means, but you liked the idea of keeping up with your self-defence training. 

He had always been cautious, holding back. He pulled his punches, making sure you were safe, no matter how intense the session became. 

Bucky shifted his stance as you circled him, your eyes focused, searching for an opening. His metal arm hung stiffly by his side, as if there were vines holding it down towards the ground.

He glanced down at his metal arm.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice strained.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine, Buck.”

He didn’t answer, but his eyes flickered with doubt as he stepped forward. You could feel the hesitation in every move he made, the way his punches lacked the usual fluidity you’ve seen him have in the battlefield. 

“Bucky, come on,” you teased lightly, though you could sense his unease. “I can’t learn if you pull back.”

His jaw tightened. 

Bucky’s strength, normally so controlled, felt heavy, like a twisted root of the past curling around him. Every step he took felt like treading on fragile soil, where one wrong move could uproot everything he had built with you.

You made another attempt, stepping in closer, and for a split second, you saw fear flash in his gaze.

You miscalculated a move, your foot slipping as Bucky’s metal arm swung out in a reflex. His fist connected with your side, harder than either of you intended. The force knocked the breath from your lungs as you hit the mat, pain shooting through your ribs. You gasped, instinctively clutching your side.

Bucky froze, his eyes widening like lily pads. He didn’t move. He didn’t speak.

“I’m okay,” you wheezed as you struggled to sit up.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. His gaze started darting from your face to his left hand.

“I... I didn’t mean to,” he whispered with a voice so soft you could barely hear it.

In that moment, his mind went through the faces of those he’d harmed and those he couldn’t save. He could not pull away from the horror that had been growing rapidly in his bones.

“It was an accident,” you said gently, “I’m fine.”

But he didn’t seem to hear you. He took a step back. Then another.

“No… no… I can’t…” His voice wilted. 

“Bucky,” you pleaded, standing up slowly, but he took another step back, his eyes wide with panic. 

“I—everything I touch…” His words trailed off into a broken whisper, “...dies.”

—

That night, Bucky didn’t sleep in the bed. He wouldn’t even come near it. 

No matter how much you reassured him, no matter how many times you told him it was just an accident, Bucky just would not forgive himself.

You woke up early the next morning, the sunlight streaming in as you stepped into the living room. You found Bucky still asleep on the couch. 

You sighed softly. You didn't want to wake him— not just yet.

You knew he didn’t mean it, but the now dull ache in your side reminded you of the man he was forced to be. While you trusted him more than anyone, there was a flicker of fear, not of him, but for him—of how deep underground his self-hatred could reach, like a root searching for water to feed on.

You moved to the windowsill, where your plants stood in their usual spot. Your eyes studied the vibrant green. That’s when it clicked.

You scanned your memories, then realized the simple things he had been doing purely out of instinct: pushing a plant toward the light when he noticed it looked too far from the window, adding water when he saw the soil was too dry. When he’d notice the leaves drooping, he’d check them, mimicking what he’d seen other people do without thinking twice about it.

Bucky had said everything he touches dies, but what if he had been wrong?

—

When Bucky stirred awake, you were sitting cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table, watching him closely. He blinked groggily, and the moment he saw you, he rubbed a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry,” he started, his voice low and cracked. It was the first thing he said, and it broke your heart.

“I know,” you said softly, kneeling in front of the couch. You reached for his hand, but he flinched away. You sighed.

“But baby, look,” you whispered, pointing to the windowsill where your plants thrived, their leaves stretching toward the sunlight. “Not everything you touch dies.”

He glanced at them, confused, “What?”

“You’ve been taking care of them.”

He stared at you, trying to figure out what you meant. You gestured toward the plants again.

“Ever since you moved in, you’ve been watering them, moving them into the sunlight, making sure they’re healthy.” You pointed to the vibrant leaves. “I don’t think you realise it.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in disbelief, his gaze drifting between you and the plants. 

He slowly stood up, walking over to the windowsill. His hand hovered over the leaves as if he was afraid to touch them, afraid they might wilt under his fingers. But they didn’t. 

He stared at the plants. “This can’t...' His voice was soft. “I hurt people, I ruin things, I don’t—”

You stood up and walked to him. You touched his cheek, guiding his eyes back to the strong, healthy plants. “They’re alive because of you.”

He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the leaves, ready to pull away. With the smallest gesture, his hand settled on the flower of a blooming peace lily. And nothing broke. Nothing wilted.

You watched him, a warm smile on your face, seeing the realisation dawn on him.

He shook his head, “I didn’t know.”

You shrugged. “You’re good at taking care of things…of people. Of me.” Of course, you were telling him what you already knew.

He turned to you, his blue eyes swimming with guilt, his brows knitting together in that familiar way when he was struggling to believe the good in himself. “But I—”

Before he could finish, you silenced him with a soft kiss. His breath caught in his throat, surprised, but he kissed you back, tentative at first. Then his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, as if he needed the warmth of your touch to chase away the nightmares.

His kiss deepened, slow and lingering, like he was savouring every second of it, trying to believe that you were real and that he didn’t break you. 

When you finally pulled away, you cupped his face with both hands. “James,” you pressed your forehead against his, “you didn’t hurt me on purpose. You never have, and you never will.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, and you felt him relax just a little. “I’m still sorry,” he murmured.

“I know,” you whispered. 

His eyes opened, and he looked at you like you were the only thing grounding him to the world. “I love you,” 

“I love you too,” you whispered back, before pressing another kiss to his lips, and this time it was softer. His metal arm curled around your waist again, while his flesh hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin like he couldn’t get enough of the feeling— the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he could finally outgrow his past.

-end

[rafedarling]

omg could write abt when readers pregnant with rustyn, just everyone fawning over her baby bump and drew being the sweetest 😭😭

𝐱𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐦𝐩

pairing: drew starkey x fem!reader

summary: seven months pregnant with your son rustyn, you and drew spend christmas night with the starkey family. everyone is excited about your baby bump, showering you with attention and love. drew is the sweetest, constantly fawning over you and your pregnancy, proud and protective as he talks about your journey.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, pregnancy, family bonding, holiday themes, mentions of food, and a whole lot of love, drew’s parents does not divorce in this scenario.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday @httpsdrewstarkey

The cold December air nips at your skin as you and Drew walk up the driveway of the Starkey family home. It’s Christmas night, and the house is covered in a warm glow from the twinkling lights that outline the roof. You can’t help but smile as you take in the holiday cheer. There’s something special about Christmas this year—maybe it’s because of how close you are to meeting your baby, or maybe it’s just the warmth of family that makes everything feel a little more magical.

Your hand instinctively goes to your belly, where your son, Rustyn, is nestled safe and sound. At seven months pregnant, you’re definitely feeling the weight of the third trimester, but every little kick and flutter from Rustyn makes the heaviness worth it. Drew, ever attentive, is right by your side, one arm protectively wrapped around your waist as he guides you up the walkway.

“You doing okay?” Drew asks, his voice soft as he glances down at you with those familiar, caring eyes. He’s been extra cautious lately, always checking in, always making sure you’re comfortable.

“I’m good,” you reassure him with a smile, though you can’t help but feel your heart swell at how sweet he’s been throughout the entire pregnancy. “Excited to see your family.”

Drew grins, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before opening the front door. The warmth of the Starkey home envelops you immediately, and the sounds of laughter and conversation spill out from the living room. Inside, the house is a vision of Christmas cheer—decorated to the nines with twinkling lights, garlands, and the smell of freshly baked gingerbread cookies wafting from the kitchen.

As soon as you step inside, you’re greeted by Jodi, Drew’s mom, whose face lights up the moment she sees you.

“Oh my goodness, you’re glowing!” she exclaims, rushing over to wrap you in a gentle hug, mindful of your pregnant belly. Her hands, warm and soft, come to rest on your bump, and her smile widens even more. “Look at that belly! Rustyn’s going to be here so soon, I can’t believe it.”

You laugh softly, patting her hand affectionately. “Only two more months and few days to go.”

Jodi practically beams, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You’re carrying so beautifully. I bet you can’t wait to meet him.”

You nod, feeling the familiar flutter of Rustyn’s movements as if he knows everyone is talking about him. “We’re both really excited,” you say, glancing over at Drew, who is standing proudly beside you, his hand instinctively resting on the small of your back.

“I can’t wait either,” Drew says, his voice full of warmth as he looks at you, his eyes softening with every word. “It feels like we’ve been waiting forever.”

Jodi chuckles, giving him a knowing look. “The wait is always the hardest part. But it’s worth it, trust me.”

As if on cue, Drew’s sister appears, Brooke, her eyes going wide as she spots your belly. “Oh my God, look at you!” she gushes, hurrying over to join her mom. “Can I feel him kick?”

“Of course,” you say with a smile, gently guiding her hand to the side of your belly where Rustyn has been particularly active tonight.

She grins in awe, her face lighting up when she feels a firm little nudge. “Oh! He kicked! That’s amazing!” she squeals, clapping her hands together in delight.

“Strong little guy, huh?” Drew says, his chest puffing up with pride. You can’t help but smile at the way he’s been throughout the pregnancy, always so proud of every little movement, every milestone.

You laugh softly, resting a hand on your belly as Rustyn shifts again. “He’s definitely active.”

Drew’s dad joins the group, his usually serious face softening as he takes in the sight of you and your growing belly. “You look wonderful,” he says, giving Drew a firm pat on the back. “You’re gonna be a great dad, son. Your mom and I are so proud of you.”

Drew’s expression brightens even more, and you feel his hand squeeze your waist affectionately. “Thanks, Dad. We’re both really excited for this next step.”

The evening progresses, you’re ushered into the living room, where the Starkey family gathers around the Christmas tree. The house is filled with the sounds of holiday music, laughter, and the crackling of the fireplace. The room is warm, both in temperature and in the way the Starkey family makes you feel—completely at home.

You find yourself settled into a plush armchair, a pillow tucked behind your back for extra support. Drew, ever attentive, hovers near you, making sure you’re comfortable before he sits down beside you. His hand, as always, finds its way to your belly, resting there as if it’s second nature by now.

“You sure you don’t need anything? Water? Another blanket? Pillow?” Drew asks, his voice full of concern as he rubs gentle circles on your belly.

“I’m good,” you reassure him, leaning into his touch. “I’m just happy to be here.”

Drew smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’m happy you’re here too. Rustyn and I are both lucky.”

The two of you sit quietly for a moment, watching as the rest of the family chatters and jokes around the room. Every now and then, someone will come by to check on you or ask how you’re feeling. It’s clear that Drew’s family is just as excited about the baby as the two of you are.

At one point, McKayla plops down on the couch next to you, her eyes bright with curiosity. “So, have you guys decided on the nursery theme yet?”

You smile, thinking about the nursery you and Drew have been working on together. “We’re thinking of a woodland theme,” you say. “Something soft and cozy, with lots of little animals.”

“That’s perfect,” she says with a grin. “I’ll have to come over and help you decorate.”

“You’re welcome anytime,” Drew says, smiling as he leans back in his chair, his hand still resting on your belly. “We’ve got most of the basics done, but we could use some help with the finishing touches.”

“Absolutely,” she says excitedly. “I’m so ready to be an aunt.”

After a while, dinner is announced, and Drew helps you up from your chair, always making sure you’re steady on your feet. You appreciate how attentive he’s been—he never lets you lift a finger if he can help it, and he’s always right there to offer you support when you need it.

The dining room is a sight to behold. The long table is set with elegant Christmas decorations with candles, holly, and sparkling ornaments lining the center—and the smell of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, and fresh bread fills the air. Plates of food are spread out across the table, and everyone takes their seats with excited chatter.

As soon as you sit down, Drew’s mom is at your side, serving you a generous portion of all your favorite dishes. “You need to eat, sweetheart,” she says kindly, her eyes full of warmth. “You’re eating for two now.”

You chuckle softly, feeling grateful for the way she’s been so attentive all evening. “Thank you,” you say, feeling Rustyn shift again as if he knows you’re about to eat.

Drew sits down beside you, immediately reaching for your hand under the table. “Make sure you don’t overstuff yourself,” he murmurs, his voice gentle as he gives your hand a squeeze. “I don’t want you feeling sick later.”

“I’ll be fine,” you assure him with a smile, appreciating how much he cares. “I know my limits.”

The dinner conversation flows naturally, with Drew’s family sharing stories and laughter as they pass around plates of food. You find yourself at the center of much of the discussion, with everyone asking questions about the pregnancy, how you’re feeling, and what you and Drew are most excited about once Rustyn arrives.

Drew is quick to jump in anytime someone mentions the pregnancy, his face lighting up with pride as he talks about you and how incredible he thinks you’ve been. “She’s been amazing,” he says at one point, his voice full of admiration. “I don’t know how she does it, but she’s handling everything so well. I’m in awe of her every day.”

You blush at his words, feeling the love and warmth radiating from him. It’s moments like these that remind you just how lucky you are to have him by your side.

As the meal winds down, the conversation turns to the future—what next Christmas will be like with a baby in the house, how excited everyone is to meet Rustyn, and all the little things Drew and his family are looking forward to once he arrives.

“Just think,” Jodi says with a smile. “Next year, we’ll have a little one crawling around under the tree. It’s going to be magical.”

“I can’t wait,” Drew says, his hand still firmly holding yours. “It’s going to be the best Christmas ever.”

After dinner, you and Drew retreat back to the living room, where the fire is still crackling softly and the Christmas lights twinkle in the dim light. You’re settled back into your comfortable armchair, and Drew is right beside you wih his hand rests on your belly, gently rubbing soothing circles as the two of you sit in peaceful silence.

You sip on a cup of hot cocoa, savoring the warmth of it as you lean back into the chair, feeling Rustyn move inside you. It’s moments like these, surrounded by love and warmth, that make you realize just how special this Christmas is. It’s your last Christmas before Rustyn arrives, and while you’re excited for all the Christmases to come, there’s something undeniably magical about this one.

Drew looks at you, his blue eyes soft in the firelight. “You good?” he asks, his voice gentle as he watches you with concern. “You need anything?”

You smile at him, feeling your heart swell with love. “I’m perfect,” you say softly. “This has been the best night.”

Drew’s face brightens, and he shifts slightly so he’s facing you fully. “I’m glad,” he says, his hand still resting on your belly. “I just want you to be happy and comfortable. You and Rustyn.”

“We are,” you assure him, reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair. “We couldn’t be happier.”

Drew leans into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he takes in the moment. “I can’t believe he’s almost here,” he whispers, his voice full of awe. “Two more months, and we’ll be holding him in our arms.”

You nod, feeling your throat tighten with emotion. “I know. It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?”

Drew smiles, his eyes full of love as he looks up at you. “It’s going to be perfect. You’re going to be the best mom.”

“And you’re going to be the best dad,” you say softly, brushing a hand through his hair. “Rustyn is so lucky to have you.”

Drew’s face softens even more, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your belly. “Hey, little guy,” he murmurs, his voice so full of love it makes your heart ache. “We’re all here waiting for you. But take your time, okay? We’ll be ready whenever you are.”

Rustyn gives a little kick in response, and Drew grins, his eyes lighting up. “Did you feel that?”

“I did,” you say with a laugh, resting your hand on your belly. “I think he heard you.”

Drew laughs softly, leaning his head against your belly again. “He knows his daddy’s voice.”

The rest of the evening passes in a peaceful blur of laughter, warmth, and holiday magic. As the night winds down and the rest of the family heads off to bed, you and Drew find yourselves alone in front of the Christmas tree, the house quiet and still.

Drew pulls you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you sit in the soft glow of the Christmas lights. “Next Christmas, we’ll have a little one with us,” he says softly, his voice full of wonder. “Can you believe it?”

You smile, resting your head on his shoulder as you feel Rustyn shift inside you. “It’s kind of perfect, isn’t it?”

“More than perfect,” Drew whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “You’ve given me everything I could ever want.”

Your heart swells at his words, and as you sit there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you realize just how much love you have in your life—and how much more love is on the way with Rustyn’s arrival.

[lizzieolseniskinda]

TOM RIDDLE - soulmates don’t exist PT. 3

SDE MASTERLIST - x FEM!reader (POC!friendly)

SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?

WORD COUNT: 4677

GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)

CONTENT WARNING: soulmate (soulbound) & time travel au, english is not my first language, i took names of professor in harry's time (it's easier that way)

You were walking through the Hogwarts courtyard, bundled up in your robes as the wind carried a hint of the colder months that were coming. The sun filtered through the canopy of orange and red; it was a cold day without the sun. As you approached the Gryffindor common room after breakfast, you spotted Lucas—tall, with his messy black curls and easygoing grin—leaning casually against the wall.

“There you are!” he called out, pushing off the wall and strolling over to you. “I’ve been looking for you. Fancy coming with me to Hogsmeade? I’ve got some things to pick up, and I thought you could use a break from all the studying.”

You raised an eyebrow, interested. “And by ‘things,’ you mean what exactly?”

“Important stuff!” Lucas replied with mock seriousness. “Like sweets from Honeydukes and a new quill, since I keep losing mine. And, of course, we have to stop at Zonko’s - can’t leave without some supplies for our next prank on Maeve.”

You let out a laugh, feeling the tension of the past few years slip away. You figured you could use a shopping day - it was a Saturday after all; you could just study after. “Sounds like a plan, though I’m not sure if Maeve would be happy with another one of your ‘masterpieces’.”

“She’ll survive. Besides, I’ve got a new idea that’ll totally blow her mind; just wait and see,” Lucas nudged you playfully.

As you made your way down the long, winding path to Hogsmeade, a sleek black cat caught your eye. It seemed to be lingering just out of reach; you’d seen the cat a few times today, always trailing a few paces behind, watching you with its bright, curious green eyes. It had followed you from the common room to the courtyard, through the grounds, and now it was walking behind you and Lucas as though it belonged with the two of you.

“Look at that,” you murmured, glancing over your shoulder at the cat. “It’s been following me this entire day.”

Lucas turned around, narrowing his eyes slightly at the feline. “Huh, that’s a little weird, don’t you think? Cats don’t usually follow people around for no reason.”

You crouched down and extended a hand toward the cat. To your surprise, it didn’t hesitate. The cat padded forward and nuzzled your palm; its fluffy and soft fur was warm, despite the chill in the air. You smiled, scratching it behind the ears.

“I think it likes me,” you said, looking up at Lucas. “Maybe it's a stray. What do you think?”

Lucas crossed his arms and looked at the cat with a suspicious expression. “It's a little too good to be true, don’t you think? A mysterious black cat following you around Hogwarts. You know there are loads of horror stories about witches using cats as spies, right?”

“You're paranoid,” you rolled your eyes at him, but smiled.

“I’m cautious,” Lucas corrected, though there was a small teasing glint in his eyes. “But if you’re set on keeping it, we should make sure it’s not... I don’t know, an Animagus or something. Better safe than sorry, right?”

“You think someone’s been using this little thing to spy on me?”

Lucas shrugged, but he was already pulling out his wand. “Could be, perhaps. There’s a simple charm to check for such things; it won’t hurt the cat - you have my promise.”

You stood up and took a step back, “Okay, but I’m telling you, it’s just a normal cat.”

Lucas raised his wand, pointing it at the cat as he muttered the incantation under his breath. A faint blue light shimmered from the tip of his wand. It surrounded the cat for a moment before fading away.

You both stared at the cat in silence, holding your breath, waiting for whatever was about to happen. But the cat just blinked up at you, then licked its paw nonchalantly.

Lucas let out a breath, “Phew... what do you know? It’s just a regular old cat.”

“Told you,” you smirked, “looks like you’re now stuck with me and my new pet.”

The cat - as if it sensed your affectionate words - let out a soft purr and wound itself around your legs once more. You knelt down and scratched behind its ears again. A bond was already beginning to form. The only problem was the lice and many more things that were scattered across its fur.

"Alright, alright," Lucas said, laughing. "I suppose it shouldn’t be a problem.”

With the cat in tow, you and Lucas continued down the path to Hogsmeade. The bustling village was already alive with students and locals; shops were gleaming with fresh stock and festive decorations for upcoming festivities. As you entered Honeydukes, the warmth of the shop’s interior enveloped you, along with the sweet scent of sugar and chocolate.

“So, what’s your go-to sweet?” Lucas asked as he grabbed a basket, eyeing the chocolate frogs with heart eyes.

“Maybe the peppermint toads?” you said with a grin, grabbing a small bag from the shelf. “They’re the perfect balance of sweet and refreshing.”

Lucas pulled a face, “You’re a maniac. It’s all about the fizzing whizzbees.”

Both of you wandered through the aisles, piling your basket high with various candies - sugar quills, licorice wands, jelly slugs. At one point, Lucas tried to sneak a handful of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans into your bag, but you caught him just in time.

“You’re not tricking me into eating vomit-flavored beans again!” you narrowed your eyes at him.

Lucas laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I'll save it for someone else.”

After stocking enough sweets to last almost a month, you and Lucas headed to Zonko’s. The shop was just as chaotic as expected, filled with exploding fireworks, laughing gas, and all manner of joke items. Lucas was in his element, darting from one display to the next with an excitement you hadn't seen since your first year at Hogwarts when you'd go shopping with the Weasleys.

It made you wonder if there was a Weasley in this timeline, or a Potter; surely there must—

“I’ve got it,” Lucas broke your trance, holding up a box of nose-biting teacups. “We’ll switch Maeve's regular tea with one of these. Can you imagine the look on her face?”

You shook your head, grinning, “You’re terrible.”

“Hey! You’re the one who agreed to come with me,” he replied, winking. “Makes you an accomplice.”

After spending almost an hour in Zonko’s, you finally dragged Lucas away before he bought the entire store. The two of you made your way back to Hogwarts, the pockets of your robes stuffed with sweets, joke items, and - in your case - also a black cat nestled happily in your arms.

“Already thought of a name?” Lucas asked as you strolled along the path.

You looked down at the cat, who had fallen asleep in your arms, still purring softly. “I’m not so sure yet; maybe something like ‘Shadow’?”

“Shadow,” Lucas mused, “hm, not bad; fits the whole ‘following you everywhere’ thing it’s got going on.”

You laughed, feeling the warmth of the cat’s fur against you. Despite the whirlwind of chaos that had brought you here, there was something so comforting about the small creature that had decided to be your companion.

And as you and Lucas made your way back to the castle, joking and teasing each other, you felt like things were normal, like you were just a regular student at Hogwarts, living in a time untouched by war and dark magic.

You went to sleep that day feeling better already, with the small feline curled up at the end of your bed, purring, its little collar having a little bell that you bought in a shop.

The following morning, you made your way down the main hall, the familiar hum of chatter and clicking of cutlery filling the air. It was officially your second week at Hogwarts, and though you were still getting used to the time period, you started to have a routine.

You reached the Gryffindor table and spotted your friends, already gathering around a platter of toast and eggs; some of them had pancakes. They waved you over and made space as you slipped onto the bench beside them.

“Morning, y/n!” Maeve greeted brightly, pushing a pitcher of pumpkin juice toward you. Her curly hair was a little wild this morning, as if she didn’t care. “Sleep well?”

You poured yourself a glass. “Pretty well, all things considered. I think I’m getting used to these weird ancient beds.”

Alicia snorted, her red hair falling into her eyes as she reached for a stack of pancakes. “Weird ancient beds? Try getting used to the weird ancient ghosts! I had Nearly Headless Nick hovering over my bed last night, telling some kind of story about jousting. I barely slept.”

“Better Nick than Peeves, though. That poltergeist kept chucking ink at me during Charms yesterday,” Maeve giggled, spreading jam on a piece of toast.

You laughed, feeling a warmth in your chest that you weren’t expecting. These girls had made everything feel… lighter. The constant worry in the back of your mind lessened. Here, in the morning sunlight with breakfast laid out before you, you almost forgot the real reason why you were here.

“Mm, speaking of Charms,” Maeve said, glancing at her timetable. “We’ve got it again this morning. Think Professor Flitwick will finally let us practice summoning spells?”

“I certainly hope so,” Lilith spoke as quietly as ever, but her eyes were sparkling with excitement. “Right? I’ve been dying to try action on something bigger. Imagine being able to summon an entire plate of pastries!” Lucas exclaimed.

“As if we need more reasons for you to get distracted during class, Luca,” Alicia rolled her eyes.

They continued to chatter about the day ahead while you found your gaze wandering around. The students were busy with their own conversations; some were studying, others were yawning over cups of tea, while some were also scribbling down last-minute notes for their morning classes. Everything felt so normal.

When your eyes landed on the Slytherin table, the illusion of normalcy shattered. You’d almost forgotten about him.

Tom Riddle. He was sitting at the center, surrounded by his usual group of admirers. He was composed, elegant even, as he buttered a piece of toast, speaking quietly to a blonde male next to him.

You looked away quickly before his group—or him—could notice you staring. “You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Maeve nudged you with her elbow.

“Everything alright?”

You gave a smile, hoping it didn’t look too strained. “Yeah, just thinking about today.”

“Don’t worry about it too much; it’s only the second week,” Lucas smiled. “Besides, you’re part of the group now. We’re in this together.”

“No backing out,” Lilith added, and for a second, you thought you’d melted.

You smiled, relaxing. You felt it reach your eyes; a sense of belonging wandered around in the back of your mind.

Breakfast continued, and so did the conversation to a more light-hearted topic: Alicia’s and Lilith’s excitement about the next Hogsmeade trip, Lucas’s plans for another elaborate prank on their dorm mate, and Maeve’s ongoing battle with Peeves. You listened, laughed, and chimed in the conversation whenever you could.

Maeve slung her bag over her shoulder and stood up. “Come on, y/n. Let’s see if we can make it to Flitwick’s class before Luca drags us to the kitchens for more pastries.”

“I resent that,” Lucas called over his shoulder, “but I do want more pastries.”

You smiled and grabbed your bag as you followed them out of the Great Hall, trying to savour the last few minutes of peace before the day truly began.

⋆｡⋆˙⟡charms class:

When you arrived at the Charms class, it was buzzing with quiet energy as tired students filed in, quills and textbooks clutched in their hands. You took a seat next to Maeve on your left side. Behind another desk with space in between you two sat another girl—Slytherin.

“Good morning, everyone! Today, we will be practicing summoning charms—Accio!” Professor Flitwick said loudly, standing on a stack of books at the front of the class as he clapped his hands to get the attention of all the students.

An exciting murmur passed through the room. You realized how, in their fifth year, they learn about summoning spells in this timeline, while in Harry’s timeline you learned more defensive spells or memory spells. The difference was huge.

Summoning charms were pretty basic, but growing up in times like you did, you almost had no time getting used to a simple spell like Accio while you could easily Obliviate someone or use the Patronus charm.

“Partner up!” Flitwick instructed. You turned to look at Maeve, who was already grinning at you.

“I’ve been practicing this all week,” Maeve said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Let’s see if I can summon a bigger thing than a quill this time.”

“Alright, but if you summon a desk by accident, you’re responsible,” you teased her, setting your wand on your desk.

Maeve pointed her wand at one of the cushions Flitwick had left for practice. “Accio cushion!” she shouted, her wand slicing through the air.

The cushion zoomed toward her, though it wobbled slightly before landing in her arms. “Not bad, right?”

You clapped lightly. “That was impressive!”

Maeve jokingly gave a little bow to you. “Your turn!”

You focused on a cushion that was lying a few feet away, envisioning it flying smoothly into your hands. After a flick of your wand, you called out,

“Accio cushion!”

The cushion shot toward you with more speed than you expected, hitting you on your chest slightly and knocking you back slightly. You laughed, catching it just in time. Maeve burst into giggles beside you.

“Well, at least it's working,” you said with a grin. Putting the cushion down, you glanced around the room and caught sight of Tom. He was practicing at the far end of the classroom. He performed the spell flawlessly, his cushion gliding into his hands with barely a flick of his wrist. His focus was intense, almost unnerving.

You quickly turned towards Maeve again, not wanting to dwell on him.

⋆｡⋆˙⟡potions class:

The potion classroom in the dungeons was dark and cool; the only source of light was flickering. A mushy and earthy scent of ingredients filled the air as you sat down next to Alicia at one of the tables near the back.

“Right,” Alicia said, pulling out her ingredients. “I’ve got a good feeling about today’s potion. We’re supposed to make something simple, so there’s no way I can accidentally melt my cauldron like last week.”

You snickered. “Simple or not, I still think you have a way to make the easiest potions chaotic.”

Before Alicia could respond, Professor Slughorn’s jovial voice boomed across the room. “Today, my dear students, we will be brewing a calming draught. Quite useful for, uh, stressful situations.” He winked at the class. “-“I’m sure none of you feel stressed, though.”

You could feel the irony of the assignment, given how much stress you were actually under without anyone really knowing. You could probably use a calming draught or two just to get through the day.

Slughorn’s face was surrounded with enthusiasm as he demonstrated the first few steps, his eyes darting over the class with interest. You gathered the ingredients you needed and carefully measured out the valerian root, hellebore syrup, and the fluxweed oil.

“So, you think Slughorn’s going to invite you to one of his little parties?” Alicia asked as she ground some peppermint into powder.

You shrugged, keeping your focus on your cauldron as you stirred it clockwise. “Not very likely. I don’t really know what those parties are even about,” you lied. You went to one meeting with Hermione and decided to never go again. Simply a waste of time.

Alicia raised an eyebrow. “Well, Slughorn kinda ‘collects’ talented students. You’re smart, plus you’re new and kind. So, I’d say you're prime Slug Club material.”

You smiled at her. “We’ll see,” you said quietly. “Plus, I think Riddle is in Slug Club,” Alicia whispered.

You almost spilled the peppermint that you were trying to add into your potion. “Sorry, what?” you gaped at her. She scoffed at you and smiled. “Don’t act dumb; I always see you looking at him.”

Your potion turned to a soft blue—that was a good sign. “What??? No, I don’t…” you mumbled and glanced over at Alicia’s cauldron, which was bubbling a little too vigorously.

“Uh, Alicia... are you sure you didn’t add too much oil?” you asked her, eyeing the bubbles. “You’re not getting out of this conversation, Y/N,”Alicia said while she kept adding oil.

“No, no, I’m serious; look at those bubbles.”

“Oh, oops,” Alicia gasped and quickly turned down the heat under her cauldron. “Well, at least it’s not melting this time.”

You laughed softly, helping her adjust the potion before it boiled over. Potions was always a mix of stress and humor with Alicia. Seems like you're not as slick as you thought you were.

⋆｡⋆˙⟡transfiguration class:

Dumbledore’s class, there was a different energy in the air. The room was spacious and bright; high arched windows were letting beams of sunlight in that illuminated against the desks. Dumbledore was standing at the front. “Today,” Dumbledore began, “we will attempt one of the more advanced transfigurations: turning inanimate objects into animals. Quite the leap from last week’s matchsticks to needles, wouldn’t you say?”

Maeve leaned over to you, whispering, “What if we give a four-legged animal six legs by mistake?”

You snickered quietly.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and a stack of stones appeared on each of the students’ desks. “Your task today is to transform this stone into small creatures of your choosing: a mouse, perhaps, or a bird. Be gentle and focus.”

You pointed your wand at the stone, visualising a small bird. With clear focus, you flicked your wand, saying the incantation softly.

To your surprise, the stone started shifting, wings sprouting from its sides as it transformed into a tiny sparrow. It fluttered its wings in confusion before hopping onto your desk.

“Well, aren’t you just the star pupil,” Maeve teased with a grin. She was still poking at her half-transformed stone, which looked more like a stone with some fur on it.

From the front of the class, Dumbledore’s eyes met yours briefly, and he gave a small approving nod. You continued helping Maeve when you caught a glimpse of Tom Riddle a few rows ahead. His magic was perfect—obviously. The stone in front of him had turned into a sleek, black raven that perched on his desk with eerie calm.

You sighed, forcing yourself to focus more on Maeve and her furry rock. There would be plenty of time to think about Tom later, but the time was ticking, and you knew it

Shadow, the cat that you’d taken in, padded silently beside you as you made your way to the library. You smiled down at him; Shadow had proven to be nothing more than a sweet, lovely companion. The cat had followed you everywhere except for classes.

“You like books, don’t you?” you murmured to the cat as you entered the library, earning a few curious glances from other students. Shadow flicked his tail and trotted ahead of you, his sleek form disappearing between two towering bookshelves.

The library was quiet and warm, even after dinner. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and dust. You loved it in the library; it felt like a sanctuary, a place where time stood still.

Wandering through the shelves, you scanned the spines of the books you passed. Every so often, you’d glance behind you to make sure Shadow was still with you. Reaching a shelf tucked in a quiet corner of the library, you found a book you'd been looking for - The Founder’s Legacy: A History of Hogwarts. It was a book you needed for your Muggle Studies.

You pulled it down and tucked it under your arm, turning to leave the aisle; but when you did, you noticed Shadow was gone. “Shadow?” you called softly, careful not to disturb the other students. The silence of the library seemed to grow louder, your eyes searching for the black fur you had grown accustomed to.

Frowning, you stepped out of the aisle, looking around for any sign of the cat. Only a few students were scattered around the tables, their heads buried in their studies. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted him.

At one of the far tables, seated in his usual spot near the back of the library, was Tom Riddle.

With Shadow.

Your breath caught in your throat. The sleek black cat had made himself comfortable on the edge of Tom’s open book, his paws kneading the pages as he purred contentedly. Tom didn’t seem bothered by the interruption. In fact, he was watching the cat with an odd expression - almost as if he was amused, though his features remained calm and composed as always.

For a second, you just stood there, contemplating all your life’s choices. Seeing Shadow so comfortable made your heart race. Tom Riddle, the person you were meant to change, was casually petting the cat you had taken in, and it made your situation feel even more surreal.

But only you couldn't keep standing there forever, staring at Tom Riddle.

So, you summoned up your courage and slowly walked over to the table, forcing yourself to remain calm even though you could feel your chest preparing for a panic attack.

“Looking for this?” His voice was soft but cold as he gestured to the cat with a slight raise of his hand. Shadow meowed happily and stretched out his paws, pushing against Tom's book as if he had claimed it for himself.

Hearing Tom’s voice changed something in you; a warm feeling spread through you.

“Yes,” you said, your voice steady, trying to ignore all the feelings you were feeling at once. “I didn’t realise he’d wandered off.”

Tom’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, studying you with the same unsettling intensity you’d noticed in class. Then he looked back at the cat, one hand absently touching behind Shadow’s ear. The cat purred louder, pressing into the touch as though he had always belonged there.

“He seems to like me,” Tom observed. You had to hold back a scoff, so you forced a smile. “He’s a friendly one.”

“I can see.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. You cleared your throat and stepped forward, reaching for Shadow. “Well, I should get him out of your way; he’s probably disturbing your reading. Or studying, or whatever…”

Tom didn’t move at first, and for a brief second, you thought he might not let you take back your cat. But then he pulled his hand back. Shadow, oblivious to the tension, stretched lazily before hopping off the table and rubbing against your leg.

You cradled Shadow in your arms as you tried to steady your nerves.

You felt Tom’s gaze linger on you for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to his book, his expression unreadable. “Be careful,” he said, his voice low. “Not everything that follows you is harmless.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. Was that a warning? Or something more? Before you could reply, Tom had already turned the page of his book, his focus shifting away from you as though the conversation had never happened

A chill ran down your spine as you hugged Shadow closer. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you turned around.

Tom’s cryptic words echoed in your thoughts. You were halfway to the library’s entrance when you spotted Lucas striding toward you, hands tucked in his pockets, that ever-present grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He seemed completely at ease, as though the world was just a big joke waiting to be told.

“There you are!” he called out in a low voice, somewhat mindful of the library’s strict silence policy. He walked right up to you, his sharp blue eyes scanning your face before flicking over to the spot where Tom was sitting. “I saw you over there, chatting with Riddle.”

“Yeah... Shadow wandered over to him,” you smiled slightly, still not fully calmed down, but Lucas’s presence helped a bit.

Lucas smiled. “Look, I’m just gonna say it: I’ve seen you stare at him at times, and you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Whatever he’s said to you—”

“He said something about not everything that follows you is harmless,” you interrupted him, needing to get it off your chest.

“Okay, stop. That’s freakishly creepy,” Lucas gaped, stealing a glance at Tom. “Just... try to ignore him. Riddle’s either got everyone thinking he’s the hottest thing to walk these halls, or they think he’s bloody weird.”

Your curiosity piqued. “And what do you think?”

Lucas paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the question. His grin returned. “Both.”

You chuckled at his bluntness. “Both?”

You walked out of the library, your book long forgotten on the table you were supposed to be studying at. “Yeah, he’s good looking. I mean, objectively speaking,” Lucas said. “But there’s something about him that’s off. Like, he’s too good at... well, everything. It's unnatural; people are drawn to him, but they’re also... I don’t know, scared of him. You know? Even if they don't want to admit it.”

You nodded, thinking back to how Tom had looked at you - the way his eyes seemed to see right through you. There was definitely something unnerving about him. “He’s strange. Almost like he’s always one step ahead of everyone.”

“Exactly,” Lucas agreed. “It’s like he’s playing a game no one else knows the rules to. Trust me, best to keep your distance.”

“I wasn’t planning on making friends with him,” you said, shifting Shadow in your arms. The cat blinked lazily up at you.

“Good, I’ve got enough trouble without having to rescue you from the dark and mysterious Tom Riddle,” Lucas replied, giving you a reassuring smile.

You let out a laugh. “Thanks, Lucas. I’ll be sure to tell you first if I get in over my head.”

Lucas grinned. “I’ll be there, wand at the ready.”

The two of you started to head toward the common room together, the tension that had been knotted in your chest since your encounter with Tom slowly began to ease. Lucas had a way of making things feel lighter, like no matter how complicated the situation got, he’d find a way to make it less scary.

“Anyway,” Lucas said, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked, “enough about Riddle. Did you get what you came for? Or are we heading back in for round two of ‘Tom the Cat Whisperer’?”

You smirked, shaking your head. “No more rounds with him for today, thanks. I think I’ve had my fill of mysterious brooding for the time being. But I do think I might’ve left my book in there.”

Lucas laughed again, his voice carrying through the halls. “We’ll get it first thing tomorrow. And if you do like him, just don’t go falling for that whole dark-and-mysterious thing. I won’t judge you.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. “Please. You know I prefer my friends a little less brooding and a little more… fun.”

“See? That’s the right attitude.” He gave you a wink, his smile warm and genuine. “Stick with me. I’m way more fun than some dark wizard-in-training.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. As strange and intense as things had become, Lucas was a constant source of light. Maybe, just maybe, he’d help keep you grounded as you navigated the dangerous path ahead.

a/n: posted a bit earlier, but umm, i was thinking of naming the cat crookshanks first - so she has a reminder of hermione, harry and ron. but idk :( alsooooo, i'll probably update on sunday for this serie (loads of homework)

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[beloveds-embrace]

I’m not sure if you’re taking anymore requests but can you do poly141 who finds a small fairy reader? Mystical reader so little she fits in their hands?

Tiny baby reader… yes. Fair warning i wrote this while sleepy and tired and i completely forgot to add in when reader learns their name 😭 sorry for any more mistakes!

The forest was unusually quiet, blanketed in mist that made every breath feel cool and crisp. It was the kind of morning that seemed unremarkable, easy to forget. They walked carefully along the narrow path, hunting gear packed away in favor of simple jackets and quiet conversation. Retirement had given them, once a formidable task force, the luxury of slow days, but old habits died hard; their senses remained keen, always searching for any change in the air.

And that’s when they saw it- a flicker of light, faint and trembling, deep within a thicket. It could have been a trick of the morning sun, but they hadn’t survived as long as they have by chalking up everything strange, unusual think to happenstance.

“Careful.” John murmured, voice low and commanding. They nodded, pushing through the brush with quiet purpose and carefulness, until the glimmer came into focus.

There, tangled in a web of thin brambles, was something neither war nor time had ever prepared them for- a tiny, shimmering, actually-real fairy, no larger than the palm of a hand. Your wings, gossamer-thin and glowing with iridescent light, fluttered weakly as you tried to free you. You turned your head, eyes wide and filled with a mix of fear and exhaustion, and they all felt their breath catch.

Soap was the first to recover. “Bloody hell,” he whispered, his voice tinged with awe. He took a cautious step forward, hands up as if approaching a skittish animal. He couldn’t believe his eyes, but you are real. You are actually real. “Hey now, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt ya.”

The fairy- you -watched him warily, but there was a flicker of hope in your gaze. Gaz crouched next to Johnny, brows furrowed. “We need to get her out of there,” he said, his voice gentle. “Quickly.”

Johnny nodded, already reaching into his pack for a small knife. “Don’t move, all right, wee one? We’ll get you free.” He kept his movements slow, mindful of how fragile you seemed. With careful precision, he began cutting away the brambles, each snip bringing a little more freedom and a little more light. Price and Ghost kept watch over them, cautious still but not really that worried considering your size.

When you were finally free, you collapsed, too weak to stay upright. Gaz caught you, cradling you in his hands as if you were made of glass. “You’re safe now.” he murmured, his eyes soft. He could feel the faint warmth of your glow against his skin, like holding a tiny ember. More proof that you are real, even if it seemed so impossible.

Your wings twitched, and with a shaky breath, you looked up at them. “Thank…you,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a sweet chime in the wind.

“You are talking,” Soap breathed, a childlike wonder lighting up his face. “You talk.” It makes you giggle just a little, if you are honest with yourself. Your wings attempt to flutter behind you, but they are not Quite Right. You shift on your feet, visibly unsure now.

John stepped closer, his gaze warm but measured, and bent down so his face was at the same level as your body. “Easy there. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” His thumb, calloused from years of wielding weapons, gently brushed a stray leaf from your hair. He had to be extra careful, extra slow so as to not alarm you, and then holds his hand out for you to step into. “Your wings aren’t moving right, are they? We can help you.”

You shake your head slowly to his first question, looking away from his eyes. You’d never really approached humans before… always too big and scary, but there four were nice, at the very least. You and your unique magic couldn’t sense anything particularly bad from them, so that’s why you hadn’t immediately tried to fly far, far away from them.

You lean into John’s touch, sitting down and holding onto his thumbs for stability. You do know out of all of them, you still haven’t heard the masked one speak, just felt him bore his gaze at you, but you don’t care. “Where… are we going?” You ask instead.

“Near our cottage,” Price said, voice low and soothing. “Not far. We can bring you there, get you warm and fed, and you can let your wings rest there.”

You nodded slowly, exhaustion overcoming you. John held you close while they comtinued walking back. As you rested, your glow dimmed to a soft warmth that seeped into his palms and made them glow, a quiet reminder of your presence. The journey back was filled with silent glances- each man marveling at the fact that something so otherworldly, so impossibly delicate, had chosen to trust them.

When they arrived at the cottage, Soap carefully laid out a small, soft cloth on the table, creating a makeshift bed for you to rest one while Kyle thought you’d enjoy having a different option, so he placed a leafy pot nearby for yoh. Ghost silently set a thimble of water nearby while John stirred a pot on the stove, filling the room with a comforting aroma. You drank slowly, savoring every drop and feeling strength return to your body, to your wings.

“Better?” Ghost asked you at last, voice low, his eyes never leaving you. You nodded, a grateful smile breaking across your face despite the hints of fear caused by his mask. You didn’t see it, but there was a collective untensing of shoulders, worry lessening.

Over the next few hours, you spoke in halting words, telling them of the storm that had torn through the woods and separated you from your kin. They listened with full attention, not interrupting you. Kyle even offered you a finger to lean on when you shivered a little, reminded of the pain while you recounted your tale. But after that, you continue your rest, now the one asking them questions and learning who they are.

By evening, you were still nestled in the soft, makeshift bed near the fire, your wings catching the flickering light. As you drifted into a peaceful sleep, your light grew stronger- very content in your warm spot, and feeling safe and secure from wild animals and the weather outside. Occasionally, you feel different hands and fingers brush across your head, and each time it makes you let out a happy squeak, uncaring for the conversations happening in the background.

You wonder if they’d let you stay with them…

[avenshine]

troublemaker, i love the trouble! + ( hsr men )

requested! | what happens when you simply cannot stay out of trouble, and you feel like it’s becoming too much for your boyfriend?

warnings: hurt/comfort. never write for argenti/boothill before and written before his release, possibly ooc for both. longer than usual, please enjoy! <3

while he admires you, argenti simply cannot fathom how you always manage to get in trouble. even if you’re not always the start of it. it doesn’t bother him saving you, but it seems to get to you, a lot. no matter how many times he assures you it’s fine, you feel guilty. you apologize, and he understands — it’s fine, he insists. he sets up a cute dinner date for the both of you one day, trying to really help you see that everything is fine between you both.

dr ratio feels a little different towards this. while he understands things come with troubles, he would constantly quote “it’s more trouble than it’s worth”, he tries to not mean it too harshly, he wishes you could stay out. and at some point, you start to feel a little upset with that, feeling as if you’re bothering him. and of course, he picks up on this. he starts with an apology, “i’m sorry, i know you can’t help it; i’ll do my best to be more cautious of my words.

being a member of the ipc, aventurine knows the feeling of trouble following wherever you go. so he’ll try his best to get you out of it, or even try to be there to prevent it, but of course he gets busy with his work — so it’s not always possible. he does make sure to reassure you that you’re not bothering him by getting in trouble, as long as you can make sure, almost like a promise, you stay safe, he’ll do the same.

sunday is simply just concerned, constantly asking how you get into this, or that. and when you explain it, he sighs softly, wanting to just put you in bubble wrap or something, cause in the end, he just doesn’t want to see his precious angel hurt. as of recently though, you feel like you’ve been causing too much trouble around him, and that it’s a bother, and voice this to him. he immediately wraps you into a tight hug, kissing your forehead. he whispers to you, “my sweetest angel, you’re never a bother. i can promise, no, guarantee it, just please stay safe, okay? that’s my main concern.”

for his absolute darling, boothill will create the trouble with you (given it’s safe), he simply cannot help it, it’s the most fun he’s had in a while! at some point though, he stops. and you figure it’s because he’s tired of you as a whole, which is simply not the case. it isn’t until he pulls you aside, asking you if you were upset with him & many things along those lines. you shake your head, and he’s immediately comforted. but when you ask him in turn if he’s upset with you and that’s why he doesn’t wanna create trouble anymore, he repeats you, shaking his head before speaking. “my darling cutie, i just felt like stopping, but if you wanna, and it would make you feel better, we can stir some up right now!”

[sushiyuzu]

bodyguard’s duty

bodyguard!sylus x reader

a/n: big thanks to @obahajimarkkeu for tagging me and requesting this fic! not the best but i tried lol. i had a blast writing it, and i hope you all love it. your support really means a lot! <3

- do check out my sylus fic book on wattpad if you haven��t already!

your father was always a man of control. every decision, every move he made was calculated, especially in his political career. as one of the most powerful figures running for office this year, he wasn’t just careful—he was cautious to the point of paranoia. so when the threats started rolling in—anonymous messages, rumors of danger—he did what he always did. he took action.

and that’s how sylus entered your life.

he wasn’t the first bodyguard your father had hired, but he was certainly the most intimidating. tall, broad-shouldered, and deadly silent, sylus was a man who carried an aura of danger around him like a cloak. from the moment he was assigned to you, his presence became impossible to ignore. he followed you everywhere, his eyes always scanning, always searching for any hint of trouble.

it was suffocating at first. you weren’t used to being shadowed so closely. and, more than that, you didn’t want to be. you hated feeling like a prisoner, your every move watched, your freedom stripped away because of something as abstract as “danger”. but no amount of complaining to your father helped. he simply insisted that sylus was the best—someone who would keep you alive when no one else could.

“he’s not just any bodyguard,” your father had told you. “he’s the best the market has to offer. you’ll be safe with him.”

you weren’t sure if you believed that at first. but there was something about sylus—something that made you pause, that made you think there was more to him than just a hired gun. something deeper.

you weren’t sure what to make of him at first. his presence was unsettling—there was something about the way he moved, always so precise, always so quiet, like a predator stalking its prey. he was tall, with broad shoulders and a lean, powerful frame. but it was his silver hair and crimson red eyes that stood out the most, giving him an almost otherworldly appearance. he was unlike anyone you had ever met, and from the moment he arrived, you knew that things would never be the same.

at first, you tried to keep your distance, telling yourself that he was just another bodyguard, someone hired to follow you around and make sure nothing happened. but it didn’t take long for you to realize that sylus wasn’t like the others. he didn’t just follow orders. he watched you—closely. too closely. every move you made, every word you said, you could feel his eyes on you, studying, calculating.

one evening, after a particularly tense day, you found yourself standing on the balcony of your room, staring out at the city lights below. the cool breeze did little to ease the heat that had been building inside you over the past few weeks. you couldn’t stop thinking about sylus—the way his gaze seemed to burn through you, the way his presence lingered even when he wasn’t around.

you heard the door behind you open, and your heart skipped a beat. you didn’t need to turn around to know it was him. his presence was unmistakable, his footsteps silent as he approached.

“you think i’m just some hired muscle, don’t you?” his voice was low, rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

you turned slightly, leaning against the railing, trying to keep your voice steady. “aren’t you?” you asked, half-joking, trying to mask the unease creeping into your chest.

he was close now, too close, his tall frame looming over you, his crimson eyes locked on yours. “i’ve been watching you for a long time,” he said, his voice almost a growl. “i know every little thing that makes you tick.”

your heart raced at his words, and despite yourself, you smirked. “sounds like you’re obsessed.”

in an instant, sylus closed the distance between you, his hand gripping the railing beside you, trapping you between him and the edge. his breath was hot against your ear, and when he spoke again, his voice was a dangerous whisper. “maybe i am.”

the closeness of his body, the heat radiating off him—it was overwhelming. your pulse quickened, and every nerve in your body seemed to come alive. you told yourself you should be scared, that you should pull away, but all you could think about was how much you wanted him closer.

his hand brushed lightly against your waist, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. you inhaled sharply, your body responding in ways you couldn’t control.

“you should be careful,” sylus murmured, his lips grazing the side of your neck. “because once i have you, there’s no going back.”

his words were a warning, but they only made you want him more. the tension between you was unbearable, the air thick with desire and danger. you could feel his breath against your skin, his body pressing ever so slightly against yours, and it took everything in you not to pull him closer, to close the gap entirely.

but before you could act on the impulse, something caught his attention. his entire body tensed, and in one swift motion, he pulled you back into the room, shutting the balcony door behind you. his eyes scanned the darkness outside, his crimson gaze sharp, focused.

“stay here,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. but you hated being treated like a delicate flower, hated feeling helpless. you took a step forward, determined to stand your ground, but sylus was faster. before you could even blink, he had you pinned against the wall, his body shielding yours.

“what did i just say?” he growled, his breath hot against your skin, his hand firm around your wrist. “next time, you stay behind me.”

your breath caught at the intensity in his voice, the way his eyes blazed with barely contained anger. and yet, despite the danger, you couldn’t help the thrill that ran through you at his protectiveness, at the way his body pressed so close to yours.

“and if i don’t?” you challenged, your voice barely a whisper.

for a moment, sylus said nothing, his gaze locked on yours, his chest rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths. then, with a swift, almost violent movement, he gripped your chin, tilting your head up so that you were forced to meet his eyes. “then i’ll remind you who’s in charge of keeping you alive.”

the raw dominance in his voice made your pulse race, your skin tingling under his touch. his grip was firm, possessive, but it wasn’t painful. if anything, it sent a wave of heat through you, making your heart pound even harder.

just as quickly as he had grabbed you, sylus released you, stepping back with a clenched jaw, his eyes still locked on yours. “don’t test me,” he warned, his voice quieter now, but no less intense.

you stood there, breathless, your body still buzzing with the adrenaline of the moment. you wanted to push him further, to see how far you could go, but something told you this wasn’t the time.

days passed, and the tension between you only grew stronger. every glance, every accidental touch, felt like a spark waiting to ignite. you knew you were playing with fire, but you couldn’t help it. there was something about sylus, something dark and magnetic that drew you in, despite your better judgment.

one night, after another close call, you found yourself alone with him in your room. the danger had passed, but the adrenaline still surged through your veins, leaving you restless. sylus stood near the window, his back to you, his posture tense. the silence between you was thick, filled with unspoken words and desires.

“i’m sorry,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “i didn’t mean to make things difficult.”

sylus turned to face you, his crimson eyes softening ever so slightly. he let out a low, humorless chuckle. “you think i’d complain? watching over you is the only thing keeping me sane.”

his words sent a thrill through you, and without thinking, you stepped closer, your hand brushing against his arm. his skin was warm, the muscles beneath it tense, and the moment your fingers made contact, you felt the familiar surge of heat between you.

“you’re a constant risk, you know that?” he muttered, his eyes fixed on the floor. “you make my job impossible.”

you looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “then why stay?” you asked, your voice challenging, though there was genuine curiosity behind it. why did he stay? with all the danger, the constant threats, why didn’t he just walk away?

“i’m not just a job to you, am i?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

sylus’s eyes darkened, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you against him, his lips crashing down on yours with a hunger that left you breathless. the kiss was searing, possessive, and filled with all the tension that had been building between you for weeks. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, his body pressed hard against yours.

every inch of you was on fire, your skin burning with the intensity of his touch. his lips moved against yours with a fierceness that made your head spin, and when he finally pulled away, you were left gasping for air, your heart racing.

“because i’d die before i let anything happen to you,” sylus muttered, his voice rough, his breath hot against your skin.

his words hit you like a punch to the chest, knocking the air from your lungs. you stared at him, speechless, unable to process the depth of what he had just said. sylus, the man who was supposed to be detached, professional, had just confessed something far more personal, far more intense.

and in that moment, you realized that this wasn’t just about a job for him. this wasn’t just about protecting you because your father paid him to. this was something more. something deeper.

backup acc: @sushibelle

[sigilslvt]

Lethal Protector • Choso Kamo

☣︎ Summary: Now in your senior year of college, you're ready to live it up and enjoy party season. Halloween parties have picked up and this year, you're in for a new kind of treat. One from someone you’d never expect.

Pairing: Stalker Choso Kamo x Fem Reader

Tags: fem! reader, stalker! choso, modern au (no curses), stalking, masturbation, sexual assault, drugging, dubcon, manipulation, smut, p in v, rough sex, creampie, stockholm syndrome

WC: 5.8k

Art: arokushisu_11 on Twitter!

A/N: I’m so deeply disturbed and I’m not apologizing about it at all.

Choso Kamo.

You could never figure him out. Your entire senior class worships him, but you? You felt nothing but annoyance even at the mention of his name at this point. Sure, it may be because every time you two have ever interacted, he’s offered you no more than a look and a few words as though your existence bothered him deeply, but still. Fuck that guy.

What you didn’t know was that he couldn’t help it when it came to you. Other people were easy to converse with, he didn’t care much about interactions with them, but with you? With you, everything mattered, every minute detail. The problem? He’s always too nervous to get anything of substance out. Always.

In the few classes you’ve had with him, he’s never been able to get out more than a sentence when speaking with you, including in projects when you were paired together. You made his throat close up and his hands get clammy. You would beam at him and he’d lose his breath, how could he possibly speak?

But when you weren’t interacting with him, he was bold. He’d watch you from the back of the classes you were in with him, never able to focus on lectures because what was more important to him was whatever you were wearing that day, what you might smell like, what you might be thinking, and more. Most times, he would end up palming himself under his desk trying to relieve the painful ache in his cock just from seeing you. Other times he’d cum untouched just hearing your voice so close to him.

You’re like a drug to him. An addiction of sorts. And people with addictions, they shouldn’t be considered creepy, right? No, no, people with addictions need help. So he helps himself. He’s made a routine to keep his addiction in check.

It took a while for him to be able to follow you home, you’re a cautious woman after all, but he did do it. He told himself he wanted to make sure you got home safely. College douchebags were in abundance and he knew how a lot of them wouldn’t take no for an answer, no, he couldn’t let anything happen to you. Vowed he would make sure you got home safely every day. It’s okay, right? It’s for your own good, so it has to be okay.

But, it didn’t stop there. No, he’d follow you home and watch you walk throughout your house, slinking around from window to window to get the perfect view of everything you do. He imagined himself there with you. Getting home, eating the bowl of cereal you love so much, doing assignments, showering, and then his favorite part— you spreading those pretty thighs to get yourself off. God he would watch you in a trance while you’d rub circles on your swollen clit, a hand clasped over your mouth no doubt to hide from your own shame of being so lewd. The first time it happened, as if on autopilot, he whipped his cock out and pumped it in time with the thrusts of your fingers into your weeping hole until he came with you. Every time after was intentional. It was bond-building.

He told himself that this was good for him. That this would help his addiction, not make it worse. Because if it was really a bad addiction, he’d have had you by now. And ohhh does he want to. He desperately wishes that instead of fucking into a mangled, overused pocket pussy between his pillows that it was your sweet, pretty little hole he buried humself in. He wishes that he could keep you in his basement, away from eyes that would no doubt defile you every chance they got, so you would never feel dirty under another person’s gaze. So you could never be hurt. So you would always be safe and close. Most of all, he wishes to make you love him. But, those things are maniacal thoughts that came as a product of his addiction, he knows they aren’t okay. So what he’s been doing has been a kindness, he tells himself. Both for you and for him.

He doesn’t even know when his addiction started. You’ve only been in college with him for the last four years and yet, he feels like he’s always been connected to you. He remembers the day you met so clearly, you were doe-eyed and excited to start this new chapter of your life, no doubt, and you’d been walking without watching where you were going. You were a dwarf compared to him, so of course when you collided into him, it was you knocked on your ass with your binder and books splayed around you after the fall.

You didn’t even give him the chance to help, you just apologized about ten times while you picked yourself and your belongings up, keeping your head down as you walked away. That was it for him. Maybe it was the way you carried yourself or the sound of your voice when you composed yourself, he didn’t know, but what he did know was that he needed you. And so he would have you.

Just… not actually you. Not yet, at least. But, someday. This is what he says while he props his pillows up in a routine fashion, his phone put up against his headboard with a picture of you on display as he slots his cock inside of the pocket pussy he’d bought that looked as similar to yours as he could find. The only difference is that after months and months of constant use (and admittedly, abuse), it’s entirely mangled and in no way comparable to your pure… sweet… puffy pussy. No, not even when he’d replace the pocket pussy with a brand new one could it compare. He tried everything: warming it up with warm water, making it wetter with more lube, he even tried listening to videos of you giving presentations, but it never felt real enough to him.

Nevertheless, he fucks into the silicone replica with reckless abandon, sweat beading on his forehead as his eyes drill holes into his phone just trying to burn the image of your face into his mind while he pictures you beneath him instead. God, it’s so wrong, you’re so pure and perfect and he knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help it. He’s fucking disgusted in himself for defiling you by doing this, but it’s better than the alternatives. Better than him doing something reckless. Better than him giving you up, no he could never. So when he ultimately finishes inside of the hopeless alternative for your pussy, he simply tucks away his shame and falls asleep with his phone still displaying your picture, sad that it doesn’t also offer your warmth.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧���

Halloween. Possibly your favorite time of the year solely because of the crazy parties that allow you to be anonymous or slutty or whatever the fuck else you felt like without worry. This time? You’re dressed as a playboy bunny and who better to be Hugh Heffner than your annoying, ego inflated best friend, Gojo. 

“You don’t think people’ll assume we’re a couple, do you? Cause I reaaaaally need to have someone fucking themselves on my cock tonight and that won’t happen if that’s the case.” He speaks into your ear as you both approach the steps of the frat house and you roll your eyes at his idiocy.

“Satoru. You literally convinced me, Shoko, and Utahime to dress as your bunnies. I don’t think they’re gonna assume we’re all together.” You reason with him, chuckling.

“Wrong. I’m good looking enough to be in a polycule. They might just accept that reality.” He pouts, rethinking the costume choices.

Walking up the steps, you smack him upside his head and chuckle. “Well, I’ll be sure to tell anyone who asks that I’d never be caught dead dating you. If me hopefully hooking up with someone at the party doesn’t make it obvious enough.”

He looks at you, clearly offended, which makes you burst out in laughter as you enter the party, the familiar smell of alcohol, hookah smoke, and weed filling your nostrils. The music seems to punch away Satoru’s worries beat by beat because his brows unfurrow and a smile creeps on his face as he takes in everything around him. Your hand raises to ruffle his snowy strands as if to tell him “good boy” and he glares at you before leading you to get drinks.

It isn’t long before he’s slinking off to go find some poor girl to fuck and you’re left alone in the kitchen, waiting for Utahime and Shoko to show.

That’s when he spots you. You look better than everyone here to him, even when his sight is partially obscured by the black mesh of his ghostface mask’s eyes. He rakes his eyes over the fishnets clinging to your plush thighs leading under that tight latex bunny suit that makes your tits look so fucking good. The bell choker you’re wearing makes him gulp and then your face? God, your face makes him salivate. He’s thankful for the fact that his costume covers his already angry erection while he makes his way to the kitchen, getting a drink that he knows he has no intention of drinking just so he can be closer to you.

He comes to regret that, however, when you’re approached by the biggest fucking douchebag he’s ever met— Sukuna. He doesn’t understand why you don’t immediately turn away from him or why you’re engaging in conversation with him, he’s an asshole on the best of days. And when after a few drinks, you start kissing him, Choso’s left absolutely baffled. And pissed.

How could you let someone as sleazy and downright horrible as fucking Sukuna lay a hand on your precious waist? Slot his lips into yours? No, this isn’t right, this is the most disrespectful thing you could let happen to you. He watches as you pull away from the kiss to whisper something in Sukuna’s ear, his eyes so focused on trying to make out what you’re saying that he misses the pink-haired man’s hand slipping something into your cup.

He watches you finish your drink and Sukuna uncharacteristically not drinking at all before you excuse yourself, he assumes to go to the bathroom. He frowns seeing Sukuna follow you and gets close enough to hear the man say he’ll walk you home. Fuck. That. No, Choso would need to follow. He couldn’t let you go home and sleep with this fucking douchebag, no. No, no, no. He knew what was good for you and Sukuna was not it.

His feet carry him forward, staying at a reasonable distance away while he watches every move you two make. It’s because his eyes are so fixated on everything you do that he notices you getting… more drunk? Different than he’s seen you before when you were drunk, though, this is… sloppier. More sluggish. You’re tripping over yourself and falling into Sukuna’s arms, his shit eating grin plastered on his face like he just won the lottery.

Your head is pounding and you lean into Sukuna for support as he keeps you grounded, holding you close to him. Your brain tries to remember whether or not you ate today, silently cursing yourself out if you had forgotten to before drinking. “Just… justneedaminute.” Your words stitch together, coming out sloppily. Sukuna nods and holds you steady as he walks you to the alley beside you, muttering something about not wanting to be in people’s way, but you don’t remember seeing people around you a second ago.

Your back hits the cold brick wall a bit roughly and you gasp, your parted lips allowing for Sukuna to invade your mouth with his tongue, kissing you roughly enough to bruise you it felt. Your brows knit together and the world starts spinning while he steals your breath. Breaking the kiss, you try to speak up to tell him you don’t feel good, but you can’t find the words or your voice. He simply chuckles and when you look up at him, his face is contorted into an entirely different expression than you’d seen all night. This was… evil.

You try to will your legs to move, but you can’t. Everything’s fuzzy and all you can do is lean harder against the wall for support so you don’t fall. “So fuckin’ naive. Good for me, though.” You hear Sukuna whisper in your ear, his hand traveling between your shaking thighs before you black out.

Choso watches from the shadows as your body slumps and that tells him everything he needs to know. You weren’t drunk and choosing to have a freaky hookup, no, you were drugged. Sukuna’s fingers working on the buttons of his pants is double the confirmation and Choso wastes no time, bounding up to the man and connecting his fist to his face with a force that he’s sure had to have knocked out a tooth or two. In the same movement, he catches you, using the time while Sukuna’s stunned to gently place you on the ground.

“The fuck’s your problem, that’s my score!” He hears Sukuna scream like he’s earned you and that makes Choso see red. The next thing he knows, he’s got the man’s collar in his hand while he’s crouched over him, fist connecting with his bloody face again and again and again. He doesn’t even hear the crunches and cracks that come with each impact, doesn’t realize when Sukuna stops breathing, no, it isn’t until he hears your faint groans that he snaps out of it and realizes what he’s done.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” He hisses, but you groan again and he decides he has no time to falter, wiping his hands on Sukuna’s clothes to get whatever wet blood he could off of him before heading to you. He picks you up gently bridal style and holds you close to his chest as he walks from the alleyway, heading to your house.

It’s only ten minutes later that he makes it there and you’ve started to wake up, frowning in confusion when seeing the ghostface mask staring down at you, a voice coming from beneath it that you can’t make out. “I dun…” You croak out, trying to tell the person that you don’t understand them, that you can’t really hear them over the loudness in your own head. You want to ask where Sukuna is, but you can’t find the strength, instead looking around to see you’re outside of your house.

You feel the person’s hands moving and look to see they’ve gotten your keys from your purse, unlocking the door and bringing you in before locking it behind him. He makes his way to your room, only then placing you down on your bed before disappearing again. When he comes back, it’s with a glass of water and you realize how parched you actually are. He holds the cold glass to your lips and you drink thankfully, it helping to clear your mind just a little. Just enough for you to question a few things

“Wh-who are you? How… how’d you know where I-hic-live?” You ask, but the person behind the mask doesn’t respond, they just place the glass to your lips again for you to drink more. You use what strength you have to push yourself up clumsily, your bunny suit slipping below your breasts as you do so, exposing them entirely.

Choso’s eyes immediately fall to your perfect tits, his breath hitching at the fact that he gets to see them so fucking clearly, so close that he could touch them if he wanted to. He gulps audibly and you notice, able to make out the faintest bit of his eyes underneath the mask fixating on you.

Your body starts to feel hot and your chest rises and falls with your breathing quickening. You don’t know why the words even fall from your mouth, but they do. “You can touch me…” You say softly, blushing madly. What were you thinking? You can remember enough to know you were just assaulted by Sukuna, so why are you telling a stranger who somehow knows where you live to touch you? Maybe it’s because you know deep down that they saved you. That regardless of them knowing where you live without you telling them, they kept you safe.

Choso wastes no time, his resolve already at a breaking point when he places the glass of water on your nightstand, his hands immediately finding your breasts, kneading them roughly, earning a shaky moan from you. You hear him groan before he thumbs at your nipples, your eyelids lowering as the pleasure courses through you and you lean back, spreading your legs for him. But, then… he stops almost as quickly as he started, making you frown.

He knew it was wrong, touching you when he knew you were in this state, but he couldn’t help it. You were right in front of him and you wanted it— you asked for it. Literally. But, he couldn’t go through with it. Not like this. Not when he wanted so much more. Not when you didn’t know it was him. His hands find the top of your costume and he covers your breast before pulling the blankets over you, your slurred protests falling on deaf ears as he leaves. 

You hear the front door close and you’re left alone to slip out of consciousness again.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The next day, you wake up with a raging headache, immediately reaching for the water on your nightstand and guzzling it like you’ll die without it. It’s then that you look at the time and see that it’s eight at night. You frown, piecing together the memories of the previous night. The party, kissing Sukuna, the alley, the strang— the stranger! You get up from your bed, running to the front of your house to see that your keys are hanging on the holder, everything still there. You run to the kitchen to get a knife before casing every inch of your space to make sure nobody’s in here with you. When you determine that there isn’t, you let out a sharp breath, relieved.

You check your phone, seeing messages from Gojo, Shoko, and Utahime all wondering where you went, but the one that catches your eye is an unknown number that texted you in the morning.

Unknown: I’m glad you’re safe, now. Please be more careful. I would hate for you to ever get hurt.

Your long nails tap against the screen as you text them back, needing answers.

You: Who are you? How’d you know where I live? How do you know my number?

They text back quickly, your phone pinging before you can even lock it.

Unknown: Not even a thank you, huh? Lol, so like you to be hyper fixated on the details.

You: Thank you! Seriously, thank you.

Unknown: You still wanna know who I am, don’t you?

You: Please.

Unknown: Meet me at the lookout in two hours. The one where everyone goes to hook up. That way we’re not alone and you’ll feel safe, I hope. I’ll be in a black volvo.

You don’t even respond, immediately running to shower. When you finish, you put on sweatpants and a long sleeved v-neck, not wanting to dress like you intended to do anything more than get answers about what happened last night and who the person is. Your stomach growls and while you wait on your uber, you eat something quick to satisfy your hunger.

Your foot taps nervously through the whole uber ride, your phone not being pinged with any more texts from the number since the last time. When you arrive, you look around nervously, the lookout being less populated than you’d like, but you’re already here… and you can see the black volvo. Its exterior and interior lights are off and it makes you nervous. Still, you will yourself forward, getting into the car in one quick movement before closing the door.

That’s when you see him. The familiar face fashioned with its signature tattoo across his cheeks and nose. Your eyes widen and you’re at a loss for words now knowing it’s Choso.

“I can explain.” Is what he says first before you can get anything out. You nod, needing to understand why the man who you thought hated your guts knew your information and saved you.

He rubs his hands over his face and sighs while your heartbeat picks up. “I… never intended for things to unfold like this. I just… I couldn’t stand by while he… y’know. I took care of him, by the way. After I left. I went back and I-I got rid of the body, so nobody will know what hap–”

“Got rid of the WHAT!? Choso, what are you talking about!?” You ask, hoping he doesn’t mean what you think he means.

He immediately looks at you like he’s pleading for you to forgive him. “I had to! H-He touched you, he had the fucking nerve to touch you like that after drugging you, he didn’t deserve you before that, but after that? He needed to be taught a lesson. Needed to die for trying to ruin your purity. You understand, right? You understand that I did it to protect you?” He asks, reaching for your hands and clasping them in his, desperate.

You’re so in shock and admittedly scared that all you can do is nod, eyes wide as you consider your options. You needed more information. “A-And my house? My number?” You ask.

“I… You need to understand that I have it all under control. I j-just… the day we met, you were so kind, so pure. I became… protective over you. Entranced by you. I only ever wanted to make sure you were safe and I did that. I watched over you whenever I could, but then it became all I could think about and I-I found myself following you to your classes afraid some jerk would take advantage of you and your kindness. Switched some of my classes so I could be in yours… I just needed to be near you. Y-You were nice to me and I never knew how to respond, you just made me choke up.” The way he talks lets you know this is a kind of obsession you’re in no way prepared for, but you can’t tear yourself away and it isn’t because of his tightening desperate grip on your wrists.

“Then I realized you’re not just unsafe on campus, it’s everywhere. You’re so fucking beautiful that no matter where you go, people with bad intentions could make a move. So… so, I followed you home. That’s all I was gonna do, but you were just so calm, so collected, and I got curious. Before I knew it, I was doing it daily. I have to apologize now for watching you when you were,” he gulps, “were touching yourself, I know it was wrong. But at least I didn’t t-touch you without permission like that fucking dickhead. No, I always kept at a distance, I’d never defile you like that. Instead, I’d go home and fuck myself stupid with a pocket pussy just imagining I could make love to you. Because I respect you. You see that now, don’t you? That I love you. That I will always protect and respect you.” He rushes the words out so fast that it takes every bit of focus for you to catch the words coming from his mouth and it doesn’t help that his touch becomes more rough, though you think he doesn’t notice it.

“Y-Yes, Choso, I understand. I see, I really do see that you care so much for me. Thank you.” You say, just trying to ease whatever tension you feel building within the car, because you now realize you’re not dealing with someone innocent who happened to save you. He was a stalker. A crazy fucking stalker. Yeah, the blow is lessened by the fact that he’s insanely hot, but it’s still in no way something that washes away what he’s been doing. You could let him get away with watching you to make sure you were safe, but in your own home? Watching you play with yourself? No, you need to get out of here. You just have to figure out how.

“I knew you would! You’re such a good person, I knew that only another good person could understand my actions.” He lets out a shaky breath of relief.

Oh this guy is fucking beyond saving.

Your focus snaps back to him when he places a hand on your cheek and brings your face close to his. “Ch-Choso?” Your voice comes out choked.

“Can I kiss you? Please? I’ve wanted so badly to kiss you for so long… j-just once, love?” He begs and you’re ashamed of the way your stomach flips at the pet name. You realize he may just keep you here until you agree, so you nod nervously.

His other hand releases yours and moves to your face to keep you close while he smashes his lips against yours, letting out a pitiful whimper as he does so. You allow yourself to kiss him back, telling yourself it’s just so you get out of this safely so you can leave and report him, but the heat spreading from the apple of your cheeks betrays you. He breaks the kiss to bury himself in the crook of your neck, shuddering as he sniffs you. “So perfect. Always so fucking perfect, oh my God.” He breathes before he starts to leave sloppy open mouthed kisses on your neck, your entire body vibrating in response, which tells you that you need to stop now before it goes too far.

“Cho… you said… one kiss…” You choke out the words between breaths, not do nothing to try and pull away. He moves to look into your eyes face to face, smirking when he sees the state you’re in. Dark brown irises rake themselves down your body, committing it to memory as though he hasn’t seen you naked a hundred times by now.

“I know.” He simply says, his nose brushing against yours when he leans in again, testing you. You barely realize you’re leaning in until he pulls away with a chuckle. “Mmm… one kiss, right? Unless you want more? Please tell me you want more. I’ll give you everything. Everything you need, everything you want, I swear to you, love. Just tell me you want me, too. Need to hear it.” His voice is trembling, pleading.

You don’t even think before you speak and it’s clear in the batshit crazy response you give him. “I want you, Ch–” is all you manage to get out before his lips are on yours again, a long and needy groan coming from the back of his throat and flowing into your mouth. Your weak arms wrap over his shoulders as he leans forward, pressing you against the passenger door without breaking the kiss. Not until his cock starts to leak precum, that is, because he wasn’t going to waste time and allow you to change your mind.

His lips move down to your neck, just below your ear and his hands find the waistband of your sweatpants. “Lift.” He simply says and you do. Without question. Again, you lie to yourself and say this is all so you can get out of here alive, but the sound that comes from your weeping pussy when his fingers come into contact with it says otherwise. You gasp, your head falling back against the headrest while he wets his fingers with your slick, rubbing up and down between your folds, finger pads just teasing your clit. “So wet… even more than when you play with yourself. And all for me, too…” He breathes out in disbelief, almost to himself.

“Ch-Choso… please don’t tease!” You beg and he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head.

“Need to warm you up, baby, I promise you’ll regret it if I don’t.” He responds and suddenly you feel your heartbeat on your clit. Beating like a fucking drum harder and harder until it’s all you can feel, your core clenching around nothing.

“Please. Jus’want you.” You whine, brows knit together and bottom lip being pulled between your teeth. The most beautiful fucking sight he’s ever seen. His eyes roll into the back of his head at the sight, groaning loudly as he grips your chin.

“Backseat. Get in the backseat, baby. Gonna give you what you want.” He promises. You do as told, slipping between the seats to get into the back of his car, leaving room for him to follow. You don’t miss him pulling his own sweatpants down as he does so, his cock springing free as he gets on his knees on the seat. Your eyes widen and you realize why he was trying to warm you up. He’s fucking hung. Not in a fun way, you think he’ll break you. You know he will. But you still don’t turn him away. “Bend over f’me.”

You turn so your ass faces him, your breasts and chest coming flush with the seat as you look back at him and you’re a fucking sight to behold. So needy, so fucking beautiful that he gets ahead of himself, aligning his tip with your entrance and pushing in with one deep thrust despite the resistance of your painfully tight pussy, your scream being swallowed by his lips when he bends over your back to kiss you, only making him dig deeper into your gummy walls with his deliciously curved cock. You’re stuffed so full of him that it hurts so good.

He ruts inside of you, his leaky tip massaging your sweet spot so roughly despite the slow pace that your entire body starts burning hot and you swear you feel him in your stomach. He pulls away to lean up, spreading your pounds of flesh so he can watch himself disappear inside of you with every thrust. “Jesusfuckingchrist…” He groans, eyes rolling back into his head again.

A cacophony of moans slip from your swollen, wet lips as he picks up the pace, moving one hand to your hip to keep you steady as his own hips become restless. Every thrust he delivers is mean, like he’s punishing you for not telling him you wanted him sooner. Your cheek rubs against the rough fabric of his seats as he pounds and pounds and pounds, wet plap plap plaps filling the space of the car entirely. “Ngh, fu–fuck!” You cry out, eyes closing and gripping the seat with one hand and the headrest with the other just to keep yourself from being fucked into the door while the entire car rocks with his movements.

Every thrust digs so deeply into you that you’re convinced he’s looking for something inside of you, just fucking rocketing against you again and again. His whines rival your own and you open your eyes to see him crying while his eyes are locked onto the way your cunt swallows him whole. “So fuh–agh! Fucking tight! Greedy pussy taking me like it’s built to. You were meant for me, wuh–shit! Weren’t you!?” He asks between moans, voice shaking. You get the feeling he wasn’t talking to you, though, and it’s confirmed when he spits on your pussy, biting his lower lip and answering his own question. “Yeahhh, you were. Yeah you fucking were, fuck!” He grits out between clenched teeth.

Tears start to drench your own cheeks too as you feel the pleasure building in your core, your vision getting dark around the edges from how good the thick stretch of his cock feels. To top it off, he leans forward again, snaking his hand between your legs and pressing the pads of his pointer and middle fingers against your clit and rubbing side to side quickly, almost at an inhuman pace. “Choso! Ch-Cho! Pl-Please!” You cry out like a broken record, unsure of what the fuck you’re even begging for at this point. To cum? For him to stop overstimulating you? For HIM to cum? Fuck if you know, all you can think about is pleasure right now.

He kisses the tears that stain your cheek as he churns your pussy out, his torso flush with your back as he pistons in and out of your fluttering hole, still playing your clit with masterful movements. “All fucking mine, now. N–ngh–never letting you out of my sight again! So perfect f’me!” He whimpers out, his thrusts getting sloppier by the second, letting you know he’s about to reach his limit. The hand that was holding the headrest moves to his head, your fingers lacing into his hair and pulling him into your neck, earning a satisfied moan from him.

“Gonna, hah… gonna cum’nside.” He moans out against your skin and you nod, unable to speak while he pumps you full of cock mercilessly. Just a few more thrusts and your twitching around his cock, vision going blank as you cum around him, pussy gripping him so tight that all he can do is still his hips and spurt ropes of hot cum so deep into you that you can almost taste it. You feel him shuddering with every twitch of his cock inside you that dumps more cum into your waiting womb. “F-fucking take it.” He grunts, earning a whine from you.

“Ohmyfuckinggodyessss!” You let out, voice nearly lost from the amount of screaming and moaning you’ve been doing. You feel his cock finally still after a few moments, his cum starting to seep out of your puffy folds and down to your clit before dripping onto his seats, but even still, he doesn’t move. You both catch your breath for a few more moments as your mind clears and you realize something while he pulls out, his heavy cock missing from your pussy making you whine, feeling oh so empty.

You may be just as addicted to him as he is to you, now.

“”M not done, my love… still have so much more love to give you...” He says, bending forward to lick a stripe up your pussy, tasting your combined cum with a wanton moan. “You ready?” He asks, sitting back up and flipping you around onto your back, your ass coming into contact with the cum that’d spilled onto his seats. You watch as he smacks he cock against your swollen pussy, completely cock drunk and desperate for him.

“M’ready.”

[jjenthusee]

Steady Breaths and String Lights

Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: another drabble 😫 i’m really into domestic jason rn so don’t mind me giving yall soft jason content <3 ENJOY and tell me your domestic jason headcanons in the comments if u have any :D

A brand new couch.

It was a deal from a discount furniture store and once you had laid your eyes on it, how could you pass up the deal?

No tears, a good color, the store wanted to get rid of it, so they slapped a large discount tag on it and it came with the decorative pillows. How could you not have it?

One card swipe later, you were the proud owner of this new couch.

The process getting it in your apartment was different. You had no vehicle to haul it, but you managed to convince the company to do one delivery for you.

After your great declaration of strength and independence (and with the help of your neighbors) you moved the couch.

The living room was complete with the new furniture.

You were practically an interior designer.

If Jason wasn’t gone for the week, he would’ve told you that was a stretch, but he had boring taste anyway.

After a good wash and spray, you moved the cushions into place, angling the decorative pillows perfectly and shifting a pristinely folded blanket for a unique touch. It was just like how you saw it in the store.

Then curiosity got the better of you and all the cushions were taken out again, placed at different angles, leaning against one another.

Placing, stabilizing, placing another one.

You grabbed a blanket from your bed, some battery powered string lights, and Jason’s pillow, leaving yours untouched on your side of the bed.

You had made a structurally sound fort, with an organized stack of books, lights hung from edge to edge to give the perfect ambience, comfy blankets and Jason’s pillow that smelled like him.

After admiring your creativity and one final inspection, you crawled into the fort, curling yourself in the safe cocoon.

It was warm and you leaned into his pillow, the scent of his shampoo comforting you until your breaths evened, falling asleep to the excitement of telling Jason about your brand new purchase when he got home.

An hour later, a slight rattle came from the window, cautious steps crawling in, but loudly enough to make a sound to alert whoever was inside.

Jason had got home early and he waited for your head to pop out of some corner.

His armor was heavier on his body that night and he had been away way too long. He just wanted to hear your voice happily welcome him back, passionately hug you, and then crash on the bed holding you near him.

Like routine, he was going to unclip his utility belt and peel off his jacket, but he never heard your voice.

Standing frozen, he kept the protective shiny red helmet on his head until he could physically see you.

There was no movement, no noise.

Jason stood still, pressing his boots into the floorboards as he readied himself. While preventing any sound from his movements, he switched on his infrared scanners, sweeping the entire home before he saw a curled up ball.

In the living room, you were protected by a small cushion fort in front of a couch that magically appeared.

You were sound asleep as his hushed footsteps walked closer to you. He had removed his helmet after he ensured you had a steady heartbeat and even breaths.

He placed his helmet outside the blanket door and removed his boots, placing them neatly next to one another.

He wanted to be a respectful guest in your newly built home.

With bare hands, Jason lifted the flimsy door and there you laid, peacefully drifted off.

Jason exhaled, releasing his previous tension with one glance at you.

He always loved coming home to you.

Carefully, he maneuvered himself through the door. With a surprise, he easily fit. He smiled at the thought that you must have built it with him in mind because the door perfectly fit his shoulders. What an attention to detail.

He crawled in, moving his body by his arms until he was parallel with your face.

Unconsciously, you moved to the new warmth, Rolling your body closer to the new presence.

Jason smiled into your scalp, closing his eyes to the weight of you.

“Sweetheart, I’m home.” Jason whispered, vibrations felt against your cheek.

You incoherently mumbled into his body, barely able to open your mouth.

As you felt the comforting arms rubs and strong arms encircling you, your mind started to slowly wake up. The fog clearing.

You freed one of your hands buried underneath the blanket to match the hands enveloping you.

Then your hand felt a familiar bicep, firm in your palm.

Your eyes shot open as you moved your head out of the crevice of Jason’s neck to see your sleepy vigilante laying next to you.

“Feeling me up in your sleep?” Jason tiredly smirked, teasing you as soon as you woke up.

You slowly blinked before fully registering this wasn’t just another pleasant dream.

It was the real deal in front of you.

“Welcome home.” You softly greeted, kissing his knuckles.

Jason’s body physically relaxed at your words, his smirk morphing into content.

His hands were rough and calloused, but the feeling on your lips have never felt better.

“I got a couch.” You smiled into his hand.

“I see that.” Jason glanced around the inside of the fort. “I got ya something while I was out for the week, but I don’t think I could top a couch.”

“It was nicely decorated before, but I got carried away.” You closed your eyes to nuzzle into Jason’s pillow, holding onto Jason’s hand.

He watched you get comfortable, your silent contentment with his touch and warmth. Loving the skin he hated so damn much.

You yawned, the comfortability of your shared lives relaxing you.

Your hair was a mess from the nap, your lashes laid on your skin, and his hands rubbing at any inch of your face, memorizing every detail he could so even his dreams could also have you.

“No, it’s perfect.” Jason watched you, leaning in to kiss your temple, lips lingering a second longer.

You smiled, feeling complete that your other half was home.

“I’m glad.” You slurred, letting sleep inch closer and closer to you.

The two of you lost to the night, your sleeping forms intertwined and Jason’s legs sticking out of the fort.

And a brand new couch that joined your shared life.

[bumpscosity]

Remember how I said if December went wrong it’s be my last straw. My dad got covid.

[natswife-marvelicious]

Between Shadows and Secrets

Plot: Natasha and you are having a secret affair, but you want to make things official. Natasha on the other hand sees things differently and whatever you had, had to come to an end. After weeks of contempting yourself, Natasha can't pull her shit together at one of Tony's parties.

Warnings: argument, drinking, hooking up w strangers, not feeling loved, light depression?/self-contempt

Word count: 3,7k

Masterlist

It started as something simple, something you could both control. You and Natasha kept things quiet, hidden between stolen moments and secretive glances. It was exciting at first, sneaking around Avengers Tower, slipping into each other’s rooms in the dead of night, sharing whispered promises under the cover of darkness. There was something thrilling about being her secret, the one who could make her lose that cold exterior and melt into someone real, someone vulnerable.

But over time, the thrill faded, and the secrecy became heavy, suffocating even. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were something to be kept hidden, something not worth showing to the world. It gnawed at you, the way she would smile at you in the shadows but barely acknowledge you in the daylight. Every day, you found yourself wanting more, needing more, but Natasha stayed firm. She was always cautious, always guarded. It was like there was an invisible wall between you, and no matter how close you got, you could never quite break through.

Then, there was that night, the night everything changed.

You had just gotten back from a brutal mission. Your body ached from the bruises and cuts that littered your skin, and your mind was frayed from the tension of the last few days. You had needed comfort, something familiar to remind you that it was all worth it. But when you walked into Natasha’s room, seeking her warmth, you found something else, something colder than the woman you had fallen in love with.

She was standing by the window, her arms crossed over her chest, staring out at the city lights. The tension in the room was palpable. You swallowed hard, knowing that the conversation you were about to have would be one of the hardest.

“Natasha,” you began, your voice quieter than you had intended. “We need to talk.”

She didn’t turn around, but you could see her shoulders tense at your words.

“I can’t keep doing this,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I can’t keep pretending like I’m okay with hiding. We’ve been doing this for months, and I need-”

“What?” she interrupted, finally turning to face you. “What do you need, y/n?”

Her tone was sharp, defensive. The calm, composed Natasha was starting to crack, and you could see the frustration lurking just beneath the surface. You took a step toward her, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I need more, Nat,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “I need to know that you’re not ashamed of me. I need to know that you want something real.”

Natasha’s eyes darkened, her expression hardening. “It’s not about being ashamed,” she snapped, the tension in her voice making the room feel even smaller. “It’s about keeping you safe.”

You frowned, your brow furrowing in confusion. “Safe from what?”

“From them,” she said, gesturing vaguely toward the window, where the world outside felt miles away. “From the people who would use you to get to me. You think this life is simple? You think my enemies wouldn’t jump at the chance to hurt you if they knew what we are to each other?”

Her words stung, but you weren’t sure if it was because of her coldness or because deep down, you knew she had a point. Still, the ache in your chest wouldn’t go away, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than just fear for your safety.

“So what?” you shot back, your voice rising. “You’re just going to keep pretending like this doesn’t mean anything? Like I don’t mean anything to you?"

Natasha’s jaw clenched, and she looked away, refusing to meet your eyes. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Because it sure as hell feels like you don’t care.”

“I do care,” she said through gritted teeth, her fists clenching at her sides. “But this is the way it has to be. I won’t let you become a target because of me.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I want to be with you, Nat. Really be with you. I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of feeling like I’m not enough.”

For a moment, Natasha’s face softened, her eyes betraying the turmoil she was feeling. But just as quickly as the vulnerability appeared, it vanished, replaced by the cold mask she always wore when she was trying to protect herself.

“It’s not going to happen,” she said flatly.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stared at her, stunned, your heart pounding in your chest. “What?”

“I said, it’s not going to happen,” she repeated, her voice emotionless, detached. “This, us, it’s not real.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak. “What do you mean, it’s not real?”

Natasha’s green eyes were hard, cold. “I don’t love you.”

The room seemed to spin around you as the words left her lips. It felt like your heart had just been ripped out of your chest. You stood there, staring at her, trying to process what she had just said. This woman, this woman you had fallen in love with, who you had shared so much with, was standing there, telling you that she didn’t love you.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Don’t lie to me.”

But Natasha’s expression didn’t change. If anything, it hardened. “It’s not a lie,” she said, her voice colder than ever. “I never loved you.”

The words were like a knife to your chest, twisting deeper with every second that passed. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You refused to let her see how much she had hurt you.

“Fine,” you said, your voice shaking. “If that’s how you really feel, then I’ll leave you alone.”

Natasha didn’t respond, and that silence hurt more than anything. You turned on your heel, walking out of her room and slamming the door behind you. The second you were alone in the hallway, the tears began to fall, silent and steady.

After that night, everything changed. You threw yourself into a reckless spiral, trying to bury the pain in any way you could. You started hooking up with strangers, people who didn’t know you, didn’t care about you. It was easier to lose yourself in fleeting moments of distraction than to face the reality of what you had lost.

Every time you hooked up with someone, it felt like you were punishing yourself. It was never about wanting them, it was about forgetting her. But no matter how many drinks you had, no matter how many meaningless kisses you shared, nothing made the pain go away. Nothing made you forget the way Natasha had looked at you when she said those words.

The other Avengers started to notice your behavior, especially Wanda. She had always been your closest friend in the team, and she could sense the shift in you almost immediately. She tried to reach out, tried to talk to you, but you shut her out just like you had shut out everyone else. You didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to admit how broken you were.

And Natasha? She had barely spoken to you since that night. She avoided you whenever she could, and when she couldn’t, her eyes were cold, distant. It was like the woman you had loved had disappeared, leaving nothing but a shell in her place.

You tried to tell yourself you didn’t care. You tried to convince yourself that it was better this way, that if she didn’t love you, you didn’t need her. But the lie was harder to believe with each passing day.

It was at one of Tony’s infamous parties that everything came to a head. The Tower was packed with people, music blaring and drinks flowing freely. You were already three drinks in by the time you spotted her, Natasha, standing near the bar, her arms crossed as she surveyed the room. She looked as calm and composed as ever, but the second your eyes met, your stomach twisted.

You quickly turned away, not wanting to get caught in her gaze for too long. Instead, you focused on the girl standing next to you, a pretty blonde who had been flirting with you all night. She was giggling at something you said, her hand brushing against your arm, and you leaned into the touch, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.

It didn’t take long for things to escalate. You were drunk, drunker than you’d like to admit, and before you knew it, you were leaning in close, whispering something in the blonde’s ear that made her laugh again. She touched your arm, her fingers lingering a little too long, and you didn’t pull away.

But then you felt it, eyes burning into you from across the room. You looked up, and there she was. Natasha. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes were blazing with something you couldn’t quite place. Anger? Jealousy? Whatever it was, it made your heart race.

Before you could react, Natasha was storming across the room, her jaw set in a tight line. She grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the blonde, who stood there looking bewildered.

“What the hell are you doing?” Natasha hissed, her voice low but venomous. Her grip on your arm was firm, almost painful. You could feel the eyes of everyone around you turning to watch, but you didn’t care. The alcohol had dulled your senses, and all you could focus on was the anger radiating off her.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you shot back, your words slurring slightly. You yanked your arm out of her grasp, glaring at her. “Why do you care, anyway? You don’t love me, remember?”

Natasha’s eyes darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Stop this,” she ordered, her voice cold and commanding. “You’re making a fool of yourself.”

You laughed, the sound bitter and hollow. “I’m making a fool of myself?” you repeated, your voice rising in disbelief. “What about you, huh? You’re the one who’s been treating me like I don’t exist for weeks! You’re the one who told me you didn’t love me, and now you have the nerve to act like you care?”

The room had gone quiet, the music and chatter fading into the background as people turned to watch the scene unfolding. You could feel Wanda’s eyes on you from across the room, could see Tony’s concerned expression out of the corner of your eye, but none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was Natasha standing in front of you, looking at you like you were a stranger.

“I told you it wasn’t real because it’s for your own good,” Natasha said through gritted teeth, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t understand the risks.”

“Oh, I understand the risks,” you spat, your chest heaving with the effort to keep your emotions in check. “But that’s not why you said it, is it? You were just trying to protect yourself, Natasha. You were scared, and instead of dealing with it, you pushed me away. You lied to me.”

Her jaw clenched, and for a split second, you saw something flicker in her eyes, guilt, maybe even regret, but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. “I was trying to protect you,” she insisted, her voice growing more desperate.

“By telling me you didn’t love me?” You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. “You know what, Natasha? Maybe you were right. Maybe you don’t love me. Maybe I was just some distraction for you, someone to pass the time with when you were bored.”

The words were harsh, cruel even, but in that moment, you wanted to hurt her the way she had hurt you. You wanted her to feel the same pain that had been gnawing at you for weeks.

Natasha flinched, and for a moment, you thought you saw her mask crack. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, anything, to refute your words, but nothing came out. The silence between you was deafening.

Your chest felt tight, the weight of everything pressing down on you until you couldn’t breathe. Without another word, you turned on your heel and bolted for the stairs, pushing through the crowd as you ran. You could hear Natasha calling after you, her voice strained with panic, but you didn’t stop. You didn’t want to hear any more excuses, any more lies.

You slammed the door to your room, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you leaned against the wall. The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, hot and angry as they streamed down your cheeks. You slid to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as the sobs wracked your body.

All you had ever wanted was for Natasha to love you, to treat you like you mattered. But instead, you had been nothing more than a secret, something to be hidden away. And now? Now you felt like you didn’t even know her anymore. The woman who had held you in the quiet of the night, who had whispered soft promises in your ear, was gone. In her place was someone cold and distant, someone who didn’t care.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, your tears falling silently as the ache in your chest grew heavier and heavier. The sound of footsteps outside your door startled you, and before you could move, the door swung open.

Natasha stood in the doorway, her face pale and drawn. For the first time in weeks, she didn’t look like the Black Widow, the fearless, untouchable assassin. She looked like Natasha, the woman who had once made you feel like the center of her world.

“Y/n,” she said softly, stepping into the room. “We need to talk.”

You shook your head, wiping angrily at your tear-streaked face. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you muttered, your voice hoarse from crying. “Just leave me alone, Natasha.”

“I’m not leaving,” she said, her tone firm but gentle. She closed the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment as if gathering her thoughts. “Not until you hear me out.”

You let out a shaky breath, your anger flaring up again. “Why should I? You already said everything you needed to say. You don’t love me, right? That’s what you said.”

Natasha winced, her eyes softening with regret. “I never meant that,” she admitted, her voice quiet. “I was scared, y/n. Scared of what would happen if people knew how much you meant to me. Scared of what it would mean for both of us.”

You stared at her, your heart pounding in your chest. “So you lied?” you asked, your voice trembling with hurt. “You thought lying to me, telling me you didn’t love me, was better than just being honest?”

“I thought I was protecting you,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “I thought if I pushed you away, if I made you believe I didn’t care, it would keep you safe. But I was wrong. God, I was so wrong.”

Her confession hung in the air between you, the weight of her words sinking in. You wanted to believe her, you wanted to believe that she had been trying to protect you, that she hadn’t meant to hurt you. But the pain was still fresh, still raw.

“I needed you, Natasha,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I needed you, and you weren’t there.”

Tears filled Natasha’s eyes, and for a moment, you saw the real her, the vulnerable, broken part of her that she kept hidden from the world. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now that I hurt you. And I hate myself for that."

The tears you had been holding back came rushing to the surface again, and you buried your face in your hands, the sobs wracking your body. Natasha crossed the room in an instant, kneeling in front of you and pulling you into her arms.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she held you close. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You clung to her, your tears soaking into her shirt as you let yourself fall apart in her arms. For so long, you had been carrying the weight of your hurt, of your confusion, but now, in Natasha’s arms, it all came pouring out.

“I thought you didn’t care,” you choked out, your voice muffled against her chest. “I thought I was nothing to you.”

“You’re everything to me,” Natasha said softly, her hand gently stroking your hair. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t. I’m sorry for all of it.”

You cried harder at her words, all the pain you had been holding inside finally breaking free. Natasha didn’t let go, she held you tightly, whispering soft apologies and reassurances into your ear.

Eventually, the sobs subsided, leaving you feeling drained but somehow lighter. You pulled back slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face as you looked up at Natasha.

“Why now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Natasha sighed, her thumb gently brushing away the last of your tears. “Because I can’t lose you,” she said softly. “Not like this. Not ever.”

Her words sent a wave of warmth through you, but the hurt still lingered. “You already lost me,” you said quietly, the truth of it hanging between you.

Natasha’s expression crumpled, and for a moment, you thought she might cry too. “I don’t want it to be too late,” she whispered, her voice raw. “Please… give me another chance. Let me show you that I can be better.”

You searched her eyes, looking for any sign of doubt or insincerity, but all you saw was the same vulnerability that had always been there, the vulnerability she had tried so hard to hide.

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” you said quietly. “I don’t want to be a secret.”

Natasha’s eyes softened, and she nodded, her hand still cradling your face. “You won’t be,” she promised. “No more hiding. No more secrets. I’m done pushing you away.”

The sincerity in her voice made your heart ache, but for the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of hope.

“I want to believe you,” you admitted, your voice shaky. “But I’m scared.”

“I know,” Natasha whispered, her forehead resting against yours. “But I’ll prove it to you, y/n. I’ll prove that I’m not going anywhere.”

You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of her presence wash over you, but the uncertainty still lingered. Natasha had hurt you so deeply, and it would take time for the wounds to heal. But in that moment, as she held you close, you felt something you hadn’t felt in weeks, hope.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But I want to try. I want us to be… something real.”

Natasha pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her green eyes soft, almost pleading. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” she promised. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you, if that’s what it takes. Just… don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on us.”

Her words were raw, vulnerable in a way you’d rarely seen from her. It felt like the walls she had built around herself were finally crumbling, and for the first time, she was letting you see her, the real her.

Your heart ached with the weight of everything, but slowly, you nodded. “Okay,” you whispered. “But it has to be different. No more pushing me away. No more lies.”

“No more lies,” she agreed, her voice thick with emotion. “I promise.”

You stared at each other for a long moment, the tension slowly melting away, replaced by a fragile, tentative peace. Natasha gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, her touch soft and careful, as though she were afraid you might break.

“Can I hold you?” she asked quietly, her voice almost hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure she had the right to ask.

You hesitated for a moment, but then, with a deep breath, you nodded. Without another word, Natasha pulled you into her arms again, cradling you against her chest. Her warmth, her scent, everything about her was familiar, comforting, and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself relax in her embrace.

The two of you sat there on the floor for what felt like hours, wrapped up in each other, the weight of your argument and the pain slowly starting to lift. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t a complete resolution, but it was a start, a beginning.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha whispered again, her voice barely audible against your hair. “I love you, y/n. I always have. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and though the pain was still there, something in you softened. You pulled back just enough to look at her, searching her eyes for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was sincerity.

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I never stopped.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Natasha smiled, a small, fragile smile, but it was real. And for the first time in weeks, you felt like maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

It wouldn’t be easy, and it would take time to rebuild the trust that had been broken. But as you sat there, holding each other in the quiet of your room, you knew one thing for certain: you were both willing to try.

And that was enough. For now, it was enough.

Little longer one for now.. I'm in love with this.. how do you feel about it?? Lemme know :)

[evielmostdefinitely]

please something about pregnant capitol!reader. maybe she's pregnant and coriolanus is over OVER protective?

watchful eye |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested above, pregnant!captitol!reader and protective!coryo.

contains: reader is pregnant. alludes to dom/sub themes. some talk of violence. protective/possessive coriolanus. mainly fluff.

“Are you alright?” Coriolanus' eyes scanned the room, a predatory gaze that commanded the room. His hand found the small of your back, a soothing rub over the material of your dress, pressing into the spot on your spine that was always aching lately. 

“Yes.” You nodded, giving a forced smile in case others were watching. Your hand smoothed over the swell of your abdomen, prominent now. 

You were surprised Coriolanus let you out into the public now that you were showing. He’d been so careful with the news, so cautious that others might find out and want to harm you. You supposed that's why he’d commanded more Peacekeepers to the Districts, curfews and whippings and hanging multiplied to anyone even seen with a rebel- to drive them out, make an example of them, scare the others. All to keep you safe, or so he told you. 

With the next games coming up, you were at the annual party hosted before the Reaping tomorrow, full of Capitol socialites all fluttering with excitement at your news. Still, a haunting aura hung in the air, like they were all scared- perhaps it was because of the way Mrs. Bezel was drugged away to Dr. Gaul’s torment chamber for touching your rounded belly. Coriolanus hadn’t even batted an eye before the Peacekeepers were yanking the elderly woman away mercilessly, dragging her through the crowds of terror-ridden onlookers. 

“If you need to take a seat-” Coryo started, waving over an Avox with a sharp flick of his wrist. 

“-I’m alright, darling.” You hummed gently, placing a calming hand over his. 

“You need to rest.” Coriolanus’ eyes narrowed lightly, the same stern look he always gave you with your defiance, one that told you to obey. 

You hated the way it made you throb, you’d blame it on the hormones again. “I’m alright.” You smile sweetly. “I’m afraid if I sit, I’ll never get up again.” You tease lightly, a real, honest grin spreading across your face. It made Coryo’s heart skip. 

“Are you tired, then?” Coryo asked, hand pressing into your back again, fingers rubbing the knot gently there. Your spine had curved, figure caved to accommodate such growth- the habitat of your unborn child. 

“Only a little.” You admitted, looking down at your swollen stomach. “I can last, Coryo. I will be alright-” 

“-Nonsense.” Coryo shook his head, waving over the lead of his staff. “Make the announcement and ensure everyone leaves.” He commanded, his hand still on you. “And we will see you tomorrow for the Reaping.” A chilling tone to his words that had you shivering, taking his hand gently. 

“You didn’t need to do that.” You hummed, slipping out the side door with him, down the hallway towards your own private living quarters. Your heels clicking against the marble of the floor, half steps to keep up with Coriolanus’ own stride. “I would have been fine.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Coriolanus rolled his eyes lightly. “You looked miserable.” 

You frowned. “I did not.” 

He snorted lightly, looking over at you, lips curled in a half smile. “Petal, you were restless tonight. Don’t think I didn’t see you slip your shoes off under the table.” 

You pouted, a waddle of a walk beside him, still clutching his hand. “They hurt.” You huff, looking down at your heels, swollen ankles aching from the wear of the beastly things. 

“I know.” Coriolanus smirked triumphantly. “I told you to let me know if it got too much for you. I’d have you escorted back.” 

“I didn’t want to go back.” You huffed, a swing of emotions Coriolanus was still struggling with understanding. “You’ve kept me under lock and key for months, Coryo. I wanted to be out, see other people, and socialize.” 

Coryo nodded, choosing not to chastise you. Not now, not with how your tone clipped, a warning that the floodgates of your angry, hormonal tears were not far behind. Instead, he turned the key to your wing, pushing the grand doors open, a hand ushering you in. 

Inside, he helped you out of your dress, moved your heels back into place when you kicked them off. You giggled at how he tickled down your spine, unfastening the hooks of your dress, a soft kiss to your shoulder that had you swooning. 

You lay on the bed, feet in Coryo’s lap, his thumb digging into the heel of your foot, smug at the way it had you sighing with relief, melting into the mattress. He told you the plans for the games, how he and Gaul had worked even harder to make them better than last year, the changes and added sponsors. 

“I’m sure they’ll be wonderful, my love.” You muttered, eyes drooping with a heavy tug of your lids. He was lulling you to sleep, not that it was much of a challenge, you’d nearly exhausted yourself tonight. 

“Do you want me to draw you a bath?” Coriolanus asked, scanning your relaxed features. “Would that help with your back?” 

“No,” You shook your head, eyes fluttering open. “I’m fine.” 

Coryo frowned. “If your spine hurts, you should let me-” 

“-Coryo,” You cooed, eyes soft when they opened and met him. “I’m alright. I’m comfortable, just… just keep doing what you’re doing, please. It feels great.” You sighed, wiggling your foot back into his grasp, an accidental brush over his crotch that had him flushing. 

If you weren’t so tired, he would have fucked you into that mattress. You were so sensitive with the pregnancy, insatiable nearly. He hadn’t expected to be so attracted, that his desire grew with every new swell and rounding of your features, yet he found himself buried in your cunt every chance he could. 

Coryo had already taken you before the party, the glow in your features waved off as from the pregnancy instead of the way he’d ravished you before. He supposed that could have aided in some of the reasons you were so tired. 

“Tell me more about your plans.” You muttered, rolling your head into the pillow to look at him over the hill of your belly, your foot in his hand. “Who are the mentors for the Districts this year? Anyone we’d know?” 

Coriolanus’ heart swelled, boasting with pride. It was why he loved you so, the interest you showed him in his work, in his passions. His thumb circled around a knot in your heel, grinning at how you squirmed, answering your question sweetly.