#and i will write it eventually. but the way the word hunger is used both in food sense and in wanting sense. yeah

[emily-prentits]

i need a touch starvation meredith character study. a touch starvation disorder, if you will. walk with me,

[worldlxvlys]

A CHRIS X READER THAT IS POC I BEG YOU ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BUT YK HOW THEY DID THAT COLLAB WITH SAM AND COLBY, TARA, JAKE, LARRAY AND JOHNNIE

BUT DURING THE COLLAB CHRIS WAS BEING REAL TOUCHY WITH THE READER LIKE WHEN SHE BENDS OVER HED PUT HIS HANDS ON HER CROTCH BUT NB SEES IT AND THEY EVENTUALLY F*CK PLS

last time

chris sturniolo x poc! reader

warnings: smutttt, p in v, cursing, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, poc! reader, sexual jokes

a/n: writing for this friend group was so funnn

enjoyyy<33

“wait, ok chris! let me get up!” i exclaimed, laughing as chris squeezed his arms around me tighter.

we were currently at the triplet’s house with his brothers, jake, johnnie, tara, larray, sam, and colby.

when the entire group agreed we were hungry, i offered to make us something.

“so, what’s on the menu?” colby asked, eyebrows raised as he clapped his hands together excitedly.

“nothing, if chris doesn’t let me get up to make it” i spoke, causing him to glare up at me and squeeze me even tighter.

upon hearing the words, the entire group yelled at chris to get off of me, the hunger beginning to make them cranky.

“fine” he grumbled as he let go of me, allowing me to stand up.

i began to make my way to the kitchen when tara spoke up, “wait! i’ll help you” she smiled as she walked over to me.

once we got to the kitchen, which happened to be just out of earshot from the couch that the rest of the group resided on, she began to speak.

“so, you and chris aren’t together, right?” she asked.

i raised my eyebrows at her suspiciously at the statement, squinting at her. “why?”

she lightly chuckled at that, “i just noticed you guys are really touchy, but i don’t wanna assume anything” she said, raising her hands in defense.

i laughed at the gesture, “no, you’re ok. i don’t know what we are, honestly. i mean, we’re really close, probably closer than friends should be. but, neither of us are ready for a relationship, you know?”

it was true, chris and i had done some questionable things for just being friends.

it’s not like we had sex often, we just happened to get caught up in the moment once or twice.

…and a few times after that…. and a few more after those times.

but other than that, we had a completely normal friendship.

we were both aware of each other’s feelings, but we were content with where our relationship was at.

why risk messing everything up when we’re both happy ?

“so you guys don’t want to be in a relationship, you just want to act like you’re in one?” she pointed out, “that logic seems a bit flawed to me”

“you do have a point, but honestly? change is scary, and i’m not willing to completely dismantle mine and chris’s relationship because i got greedy” i spoke.

she tilted her head, squinting her eyes, “is that not what you’re doing right now?” she deadpanned. “you’re not worried that fucking around will ruin your relationship first?”

my eyes widened at the statement, “when did i say we were fucking around?” i defended, taken aback at how quickly she was able to figure it out.

“so y’all are? i knew it!” larray joined in, suddenly appearing next to me.

i quickly shushed him, not wanting chris to hear the conversation from his spot on the couch.

“keep your voice down, he’s right there! and where did you even come from?” i asked.

i glanced over to chris to determine whether he had heard the conversation, only to be met with his eyes already on me.

“you think he knows we’re talking about him?” tara whispered to us, catching his gaze on me.

“i don’t know, but girl he’s eye fucking the shit out of you right now” larray told me.

my jaw dropped at his words, a light giggle falling from my lips.

“oh our girl’s getting dicked down tonight” tara joined in.

“y’all have to stop” i spoke, the two collectively laughing at my flustered state.

suddenly, chris got up from his spot, beginning to walk over to the kitchen.

“oh shit, he’s coming over” i whispered to them.

“okay girl, go get your pasta and lobster” larray spoke, beginning to walk away.

“you got this!” tara whispered, walking away with him.

before i knew it, chris stood in front of me, a light smirk growing on his face.

“you guys talkin about me?” he asked, his hands finding their way to my waist.

“no” i denied, despite of us both knowing it wasn’t true.

"mmhm, you tell them how good i make you feel?” he asked as his fingers ran over the skin under my t-shirt.

���chris” i spoke, swallowing harshly.

“how you act all innocent in front of everyone else, but in bed you’re a freak?” he whispered into my ear.

“chris!” i scolded him, lightly slapping his chest. “what’s gotten into you?”

“what do you think? you’re walking around in this skirt, showing off your thighs. all i can think about is shoving my head between them” he spoke, his hands running down my body.

just before they could make their way to my thighs, a voice made us pull away, “you guys are real cute and all, but i’m hungry! chris, please just let her make our food” jake yelled from his spot.

his words caused tara to smack him upside the head, his face contorting into a wince at the feeling.

“what are you making anyway? we have, like, no food in our fridge” matt spoke up.

“oh, i know. i was just gonna make pizza rolls” i answered.

“we don’t have any pizza rolls” nick spoke, brows furrowing in confusion.

“yeah, we do” chris spoke, pulling them out of the freezer, “i bought her some”

i smiled bashfully at the statement, mouthing a “thank you” to chris.

he lightly nudged me with his shoulder in response, a smile of his own growing on his face.

“you two make me sick” colby spoke, “don’t be jealous, it’s not my fault no one buys you pizza rolls” i defended.

his eyes widened at that, taking offense to the words.

“ok, but wait, you said you were cooking something. this entire time i thought you were actually making us a meal” nick said, the group making noises of agreement.

“listen, y’all ! i’m not, nor did i ever claim to be a chef. i don’t know what you thought, but you were wrong” i spoke playfully.

“and nick, you know there’s no food, this is your house. where did you think i was getting ingredients from?” i asked as i placed the pizza rolls on a sheet.

“girl i don’t know, but pizza rolls aren’t gonna fill anyone up, those are like appetizers”

“ok then don’t eat any” i shrugged as i finished emptying the package.

“y’all can order something if you want, i’m really just craving pizza rolls” with that the group began to have a conversation about what they wanted to order.

“i’ll have some of your pizza rolls” chris spoke from beside me.

“good” i smiled up at him, before grabbing the baking sheet to place in the oven.

i bent over, pulling the oven open to place the sheet on the rack.

when my skirt rose up slightly, chris didn’t waist a second in placing his hand on my ass.

he quickly dipped his fingers into my panties, rubbing my heat.

he used his free hand to pull my front half back up, quickly covering my mouth with the palm of his hand.

“hmphhh” i lightly moaned into his hands, as his fingers explored my wetness, collecting my arousal on his fingers.

before i knew it, his fingers left my body, as he turned me around to face him.

he placed his fingers, which were now coated in my juices, into his mouth.

i watched intently as his tongue swirled around each finger, lapping at them like a starved man.

“hm, just needed a taste” he spoke, smirking at my shocked state, “you should probably close that”

“close what?” i asked him as i blinked rapidly, attempting to recover from his actions.

he nodded towards the oven with his head, “i don’t know how well they’ll cook if you leave the door open” he raised his eyebrows at me.

he was having the time of his life right now.

“uh- yeah, yeah you’re right” i spoke as i quickly closed the oven door.

“need some help with that?” chris asked as he stared down at my thighs, which were involuntarily clenching together.

i was doing my best to hold it together, but his actions turned me on far more than i’d like to admit.

“i’m fine” i spoke quickly, hoping he wouldn’t point out the fact that i was obviously lying.

but he, being chris, would never give me the luxury of sparing me from his teasing.

“really? you don’t look fine. you look like you need to be ruined” he whispered into my ear.

“chris, i’m not gonna have sex with you with all of these people in the house”

“really? don’t think that’s stopped you before” he spoke cockily.

“we said that the last time was gonna be it, remember?” i reminded him, placing my hand on his chest.

“yeah, you’re right, we have to stop. so we’re done doing this” he nodded his head at me.

“yup, that’s it. it’s done”

well, it was done. until-

“fuck, chris! yes, yes, yes ! right fucking there, holy shit” i did my best to keep quiet, as chris pounded into me from behind.

“one last time, just one last time” he whispered to himself while he drove himself in and out of me like his life depended on it.

“if this is the last time, i’m gonna make sure you remember that no one else will ever fuck you like i do” he whispered into my ear, chest pressing against my back while my eyes rolled into the back of my head.

“ you got that? can you say it back to me, princess? “

“i- no one, no one will ever fuck me like you do” i heaved out, fisting his sheets as continued to push himself deep inside of me.

“damn right” he rasped, as he gave my ass a slap, eliciting a moan from me.

“god, what did i do to deserve you? you’re so fucking good for me, holy shit” his head fell back as he moaned out.

“you feel so good in me, chris. don’t want anyone else, just you” i spoke back to him.

“yeah? am i making you feel good, baby? that’s all i ever want, just want you to feel good” he whispered, his fingers digging into my waist.

“you always do, baby. always feel so good with you” i moaned back.

my mind grew fuzzy as he went from giving sharp, quick thrusts to slow and deep ones, allowing me to feel every inch of him.

“love fucking you hard, but i gotta show you how much i care bout you” he spoke before burying his nose into my neck.

he placed a sweet kiss to the skin, before pulling it between his lips.

he sucked on the skin until it became darker, making it known that he had been there.

his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me close to his body as his cock stretched out my pussy.

“i don’t- fuck chris, it’s so good” i choked out as he continued to leave kisses against my skin.

“love seeing you like this, all fucked out under me. you’re so fucking beautiful, can’t believe you’re even real” he whispered.

“all yours, chris. you’re the only one who gets to see me like this”

i pushed my hips back into him, grinding on his dick, as he wrapped a hand around my neck to choke me.

“god, oh my-” he whined out his dick twitching inside of me.

“you gonna cum for me, chris?” i asked as i felt myself on the brink of my own orgasm.

“yes, yes, please cum with me” he whispered, head dropping to the crook of my neck as he shot his seed inside of me.

he continued to thrust into me, the coil in my stomach snapping as i coated his cock in my pleasure.

coaxing me through my orgasm, he gave a few more sloppy thrusts, before gently pulling out of me.

“did so good for me” he mumbled, pressing a light kiss to my shoulder.

“was that good ? did i hurt you?” he asked as he went to lay down next to me.

“of course it was good, chris. and i’m okay” i told him, cupping his cheek.

“good, let me clean you up and we can cuddle?” he asked, a grin taking over his features.

“yeah, sounds good“ i spoke as i heard my phone vibrate on chris’s nightstand.

when i opened it up, i was met with unopened text messages:

THE ULTIMATE CROSSOVER ❗️(10 MEMBERS)

matty b 💁🏻‍♂️ 9:01 pm

SHUT THE HELL UP ! WE CAN HEAR YOU ALL THE WAY OUT HERE

nick 👑 9:01 pm

oh great you guys pissed off mat

(i agree w him)

johnnie 🧛🏻 9:02 pm

i’m just waiting for my food

jake 🕸️ 9:10 pm

CHRIS STOP FUCKING AND TELL US WHAT U WANT SO WE CAN ORDER OUR FOOD

tara 👅 9:10 pm

YOU SHOULD’VE GOTTEN IT BEFORE THEY DISAPPEARED TOGETHER

TF WERE U EXPECTING DUMBASS

larray 💅🏽 9:15 pm

🍝+ 🦞

if it’s not snowing she ain’t going y’all

sam 👻🌝 9:34 pm

update: we ate your pizza rolls

colby 👻🌚 9:34 pm

we’re still hungry hurry up

y/n ⭐️ 9:41 pm

MY PIZZA ROLLS ???

FUCK EVERY SINGLE ONE OF U HOES

IMMA FIGHT Y’ALL 🤺🤺

chris 🦌 9:41 pm

oops

my bad guys

nick 👑 9:42 pm

chris come do the walk of shame out here so i can beat your ass 🙂

TARA 🧚🏻‍♀️ 9:20 pm

🌀🌀🌀🌀

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturnssx @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[humiliatingsluts2]

Pain Puppy

I’m experimenting more with true stories. I’ve also started to realise my long stories were getting overwhelming and reducing my motivation to write. I will hopefully continue The Good Neighbour eventually, but for now I’m writing self contained pieces. Anyway, I got a few people asking about me cucking a lesbian, so here you are.

We’d matched on an app, and her profile was fun and a little alternative. “Pan, poly, kinky” suggests certain things about a person. She was flirty, and when we discussed kinks we realised we had a lot in common. It didn’t take long to set a date. I’d like to say we had a romantic evening or something, but we met and went straight to hers after work. She was cute, and funny in a deeply online way; the sort of girl who has a favourite politics streamer and is poly for intellectual reasons as much as emotional.

We got to hers and almost immediately we’re making out on her bed. She’s wearing a cute black dress. I pull back from our kiss and look her up and down: “Strip.” She stands and does as she’s told. I can see the hunger in her face when I command her. I grope her body, feeling her submit to my touch. I stand too, and tell her to kneel for me. She nearly melts to the floor.

I take hold of her hair and pull her to my crotch. She nuzzles her face against my jeans and I feel her tongue try to trace my cock. I let her kiss my cock through my jeans for a while, then pull her back and undo my belt and jeans. She sticks out her tongue and I put my fingers in her mouth, lightly gagging her. I take my drooly fingers and rub them across her face, and she moans. I tug her back to my crotch, and now I can feel her tongue licking across my boxers.

I look down and make eye contact, and ask her if she wants it in her mouth. She nods and I smirk, “Use your words.” She blushed but nodded,

“Please, let me suck your cock, please.” I held her face by her chin and made her watch as I tugged down my boxers and let my cock bounce against her face. She immediately opened her mouth and started sucking.

I knew she loved face fucking, in fact while still both fully clothed she’d told me one of her fantasies was puking on cock. I took full advantage and pushed her deeper onto my cock. She gagged but took it all. I held her all the way down my cock and spat, covering her face in my spit. She moaned around my cock. I kept fucking her throat slowly. I was moaning and telling her how good her throat felt, praising her for being a good slut.

One thing we hadn’t discussed was rimming, so when I pulled my cock from her throat and slapped her face, I paused and asked, “Do you eat ass, slut?” She nodded enthusiastically and I laid back on the bed, offering her my ass and balls. She knelt and buried herself under my balls, licking and kissing. I’d told her I liked sloppy and messy, and she was performing. Every time she pulled away she would spit up drool onto her chin and down her tits.

I let her work for a while, and then I wanted to hurt her. She loved pain, and so I started with her lying face down on the bed. While she had plenty of toys, I started with just my hand, to understand her limits with more control. She whined and moaned as I hit her harder and harder. I made her thank me after each spank, and she struggled to form the words as I got rougher. Eventually I flipped her on her back and fingered her, this time hurting her tits. I twisted and pinched her nipples and I could tell the pain was pushing her close. I sat over her face and smothered her in my ass while I fingered her and tortured her tits. She moaned and begged for more, and I made her cum with her tongue in my asshole.

Now I needed to fuck her, and so she spread her legs and I filled her. I didn’t stop hurting her, slapping her face and spitting on her while I fucked her hard. She loved all the pain I could give her. Eventually, I pulled out and made her get between my legs again. I wanted to cum with her rimming me, and I made her lick and worship my ass and balls while I jerked off. Watching an obedient girl lapping at my ass is one of the hottest sights in the world. Finally I came hard, and she hungrily licked every drop of cum from my body. She collapsed on top of me and I told her what a good puppy slut she had been.

Now, what has this got to do with cucking? She’s poly and has multiple partners. I don’t know everything, but she’s a switch who cucks at least one guy and one girl. So both of them heard every detail of how she submitted and served me, and how much they were missing. Perhaps they’ll even see this post.

—

Follow me for new writing every Friday.

[littledovesnow]

the sound of snow

request: coriolanus with a girlfriend (wife in this case) who has hearing damange from the war

word count: 2.2k

content warnings: coriolanus being kinda awful in his speech but it's canon sooo, lucky flickerman trying to make a joke (spoiler: it doesn't land well), i think that's it?

a/n: ok i am not d/Deaf/HoH but i do have friends and former classmates who are, and i've done research before writing this. please correct me if i am wrong about anything. i left some things vague (such as hearing loss level), but overall i think it's decent?

also italics are when there's sign language being used :)

also also i had like three title ideas for this but i feel like they're all so bad but i liked this one the best

-----

Coriolanus had first met you back when you were both still wet behind the ears, unsure of how to navigate life after the Dark Days. His family had taken a direct hit when District 13 was no longer, his family’s fortune plundering into the depth unknown. Your family, however, had to face a different setback: a few rather close bomb blasts had stolen a majority of your hearing.

Coming from an affluent family, you were able to afford a private tutor growing up, teaching you and your family sign language, though as you grew old enough you were fit for a hearing aid in the left ear—the only one with enough hearing left to make it worthwhile.

All the while, you and Coriolanus never turned your backs on each other, choosing to let each other in on your trials and tribulations, knowing secrets were safe between the two of you. He had thus learned sign language from being in your home so often, Tigris and the Grandma’am having picked up on some of the more common phrases.

When you were both of age to begin at the Academy, your father fought tooth and nail with the Dean to ensure you were well-equipped with an interpreter when necessary, though you often went without one as you grew tiresome of the stares from your classmates.

During the 10th Annual Hunger Games, you say alongside Coriolanus as you two watched the tributes battle for victory, both celebrating when Lucy Gray was crowned the victor, both unaware of what fate waited your boyfriend the following day.

His stint in District 12 was something you two rarely spoke on, choosing to forget those few disastrous months while you were separated, you back in the Capitol studying at University while Coriolanus learned the hard way what it meant to be a Peacekeeper, to learn what it feels like to betray a friend, to learn what true power felt like.

Dr. Gaul had spoken to you prior to calling Coriolanus back to the Capitol, wanting your input if he would be a considerable candidate for her Gamemaker Apprenticeship, to which you informed her it was one of the biggest honors he would have wished for. Thus, Coriolanus was recalled back to the Capitol, back to you, where he stood alongside Dr. Gaul to prepare for years of Hunger Games, eventually landing as a true Gamemaker as Dr. Gaul began to take steps back in preparation for her retirement.

One day, however, Coriolanus had told her he was interested in becoming Panem’s next president, with Felix Ravinstill gone and no other heirs of the title, an election would take place. It was no surprise to the Head Gamemaker when the blonde brought the idea up, having seen him yearn and hunger for the coveted presidential position since he was fresh out of the Academy.

It came as no shock when he was announced at the Panem’s next president, you alongside of him as the First Lady. The country never knew what would become of the young couple, stars and revenge in their eyes.

-----

Coriolanus knew where he could find you once he returned from the Citadel, having met with Dr. Gaul for the upcoming 25th Hunger Games. He wanted them to be more of a spectacle than usual, to commemorate the quarter century since the end of the war.

He ignored the Avox who had opened the door to the private wing of the mansion, ignored the Avox who had his usual glass of whiskey waiting on a silver platter.

Opening the door to the greenhouse, Coriolanus’ eyes lit up as he saw you carefully pruning the rose bush planted in memorial of the Grandma’am. “Love?”

You looked up, and Coriolanus smiled when he realized your hearing aid was still in. You usually chose not to wear it while at home, preferring the comfortable silence from time to time.

“How was your day?” He asked, helping you untie the gardening smock you wore to protect the clothing underneath.

“It was fine, uneventful.” You replied, looking at the garden around the two of you. “How was Volumnia?”

Coriolanus was still gobsmacked that Dr. Gaul allowed his wife to call her by her first name, only a select few Capitol citizens were granted that honor, though he was one of them.

“She misses you, asked that you stop by sometime for lunch.” Coriolanus mused, plucking a rose out of the bunch in the vase. “Maybe you can help her come up with some new strategies for The Games, she loved your idea of stocking some food in the middle.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, not expecting the silly idea of arming the tributes with food to be such a hit in the Captiol. Betting had been at an all-time high for the tributes who had been able to get their hands on the stale, tasteless protein bars.

“I’ll see if she’s available on Thursday.” You knew the mad scientist would make room any day to meet with you. She had a soft spot for you, no one was quite sure why.

“You can ask her this evening, since we have that awful gala to start preparing for The Games.”

You looked at your husband, clearly forgetting about the gala. “I forgot that was tonight. I wouldn’t have pruned the roses if I had known.”

Coriolanus, who was cold-hearted and strict in public, simply waved off the nonissue. “You wore gloves, a smock, you look as beautiful as ever.”

You pressed your lips to his, disappearing to the bathroom for a shower prior to getting ready.

-----

 Attending Capitol galas and evening events as First Lady of Panem was something you weren’t sure you would ever get used to. Cameras flashing, various news outlets trying to get a snippet of you and Coriolanus talking, microphones in your faces.

Not that they would get anything, as Coriolanus was only going to give hints at his next political plans, life events, anything really, to Lucky Flickerman, who he had become rather close with following his mentorship in the Academy.

“D’you want anything to drink?” Coriolanus asked, lips brushing on the shell of your left ear.

Nodding, you two moved over to the bar for a couple glasses of posca before starting the endless circle of meeting politicians, thanking Capitol elites for their support, and the nagging question of when you two would start a family.

You had eventually been able to break free from the conversation you and Coriolanus were stuck in when Lucky Flickerman himself took the spot in behind the podium, preparing to start the night’s speeches.

Taking your seats, you felt Coriolanus place his arm on the back of your chair, hand brushing up and down the back your right bicep, goosebumps breaking out in the area.

As Lucky began his speech, you moved closer to your husband, whispering in his ear, “I can’t understand what he’s saying.”

Coriolanus looked back at you, noticing the missing hearing aid, eyebrow raised.

“I forgot to put it back in after my shower.”

Without missing a beat, Coriolanus shifted in his seat and began to interpret the speeches for you, ignoring the not-so-subtle looks you two were getting, mainly from newer guests who weren’t used to seeing the president use sign language.

At the conclusion of Lucky’s speech, a Capitol employee scuttled over to the First Couple.

“President Snow, we can have an Avox translate if you’d like.”

Frowning, Coriolanus shook his head. “That’s alright, I can interpret for my wife.”

The employee didn’t seem to expect that response, simply blinking at the couple.

“Is that a problem?” Coriolanus asked, ignoring your hand on his knee.

“N-no, not at all. I just- you’re expected to make a speech tonight, too.” The employee tried to backpedal, not wanting to ruin his career tonight.

You chose this moment to speak up, not wanting Coriolanus to overreact. “It’s fine, Coryo’s quite apt at making sure I know what’s going on. Why don’t you be a dear and get me a glass of wine?”

The employee was quick to leave the conversation, and Coriolanus looked at you. “You’re too kind to them.”

Shrugging, you took the full glass without so much as a glance in the employee’s direction. “Someone has to be.”

Coriolanus let out an airy laugh as he stood up, dusting off some nonexistent crumbs from his burgundy suit. He squeezed your arm before departing from your side, taking his place where Lucky Flickerman had left open, the weatherman-turned-host made sure to give his hand a shake as they exchanged pleasantries.

 Giving everyone a moment to settle down, Coriolanus cleared his throat before beginning, shocking nearly everyone in the room as he used both his voice and hands to conduct the speech.

“The Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games are right around the corner, so I thought I would give you all a twist I’m putting into the Reaping ceremony this year, and potentially the following Reapings. Dr. Gaul and I have had numerous discussions about how tributes are elected, and from prior games being rigged, we have initiated a couple updates to the ceremony and process.”

You were curious of the updates Coriolanus was talking about, unaware he was still dipping his toes into Gamemaking.

“Rather than each District’s mayor or elected spokesperson calling the names, we will have someone from the Capitol pull names. It will eliminate the possibility for rigging the tributes. In addition, who really wants to watch groups of children kill each other? With Reaping eligibility starting at age twelve, the Gamemakers and I have decided to increase the number of entries one gets as they age. When they reach the age of eighteen, each possible tribute will be entered into the Reaping six times.”

You weren’t able to hear everyone’s whispers, but you could see them looking at each other, taking in the news.

Coriolanus concluded his speech by introducing Dr. Gaul’s assistant, as the Head Gamemaker had something come up rendering her unable to attend the gala.

When he returned to your side, you looked him up and down. “Some updates, huh? Whose idea were they?”

Coriolanus had a smirk on his face, simply bringing his glass of posca to his lips.

-----

After all of the speeches were finished, some music began to play, letting the now tipsy and drunk Capitol elite take the dancefloor with eager steps.

Lucky Flickerman meandered over to where you and Coriolanus were still seated, discussing what Tigris deserved for her upcoming birthday.

“Not going to share a dance tonight?” He asked, looking between the two of you.

“Oh, Lucky, you should now, we don’t really dance. Only for the most special of occasions.” Coriolanus smiled, twisting the wedding band around his finger.

You wore a matching smile, though your reply wasn’t quite what Lucky expected. “And besides, Lucky, I’m not the best dancer if I can’t hear the music. You should have seen the first time we tried to dance together in the Academy.”  

The mustached man opened his mouth like he was going to reply, but nothing came out except for a chuckle.

Coriolanus hid his smile behind the glass of water he had switched to, not able to tolerate the posca and wine like he had before.

It was one of his favorite moments after you two had officially started dating. The Academy had their annual prom, though it tended to be more of a fashion show than dance, as many students arrived in extravagant outfits that were ill-suited for dancing.

You had been in a sparking silver dress, heels a gift from your mother, red-tinted lips dropping when Coriolanus asked you to dance with him.

It had been enough missteps to last a lifetime, but the two of you took it in stride, promising each other to get a proper dance instructor before your first dance at the wedding years later.

“I do hate to break up the fond memory, honey, but we should be heading out.”

Coriolanus downed the rest of his water before standing, lending you his arm as you two bid goodnight to your friends and Coriolanus’ closest colleagues, before disappearing from the gala.

-----

You walked out of the bathroom from taking your makeup off to see Coriolanus sitting on the bed, sheets pulled back for your arrival.

“Who are you thinking will be the Capitol’s representative for the Reaping?” You asked, mind still going back to the Reaping updates.

Coriolanus closed the book he was reading, eyes looking you up and down as you climbed into the bed. “I don’t know yet. Why, do you have anyone in mind?”

You shrugged, pulling the sheets up to your chest, yawn escaping your lips. “No one in particular, but I’m sure I could come up with some names.”

Coriolanus laughed, setting his book on the nightstand next to him. “We can talk about it when you’re not going to fall asleep in mere minutes. Goodnight, love.”

“Mm, ‘night, Coryo.” You whispered, letting Coriolanus’ soft breathing and the distant sounds of sirens lull you to sleep.

-----

a/n: hey was this good should i do more in this universe let me know

[crosshairlovebot]

birthday revelations / crosshair x gn!reader

pairing: crosshair x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has a nickname.

description: crosshair discovers it's your birthday, and in an effort to try and understand birthdays, he gets you a gift.

word count: 3,793

warnings: none. crosshair ovethinks a lot

Another request! Maybe not technically a request, but @starrylothcat sent in an ask for an ask prompt and said it would be nice to see me write a fic where crosshair buys a gift for the reader for their birthday or christmas and it's been stuck in my head since! so here you go! i hope i did it justice!

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated <3

Crosshair didn’t like crowds. He gritted his teeth as he walked alone through the market on Sorgan, sidestepping people as they entered his path. It was noisy, but that didn’t bother him so much. Vendors called out to passersby, promoting their various goods for purchase with enthusiasm. Voices chattered and laughed. The smell of food wafted through Crosshair’s nose and his stomach tightened with hunger. Rations were poor choices compared to the sizzling of flavourful meat on grills, but he didn’t have enough credits to buy himself something to eat.

He only had enough to buy something for you.

He had been helping Tech with cataloguing files when he saw one on their nat-born medic. You had joined Clone Force 99 just over half a standard cycle ago with your plucky yet kind attitude, falling into the group dynamic easier than Crosshair had thought. Sure, it had taken some adjustment for him and his brothers to become used to another presence they had not grown up with, but it was inevitable you would eventually find your place in the team. You were hardworking, strong and compassionate. You paid attention to each of his brothers, giving them your undivided focus during conversation and indulging them in questions about what they were doing or their chosen skill. He had watched you talk with Tech about data decryption, Wrecker about proton-based explosives, Hunter about tracking strategies, Echo about ARC trooper training, and of course, him about sharpshooting.

He recalled the way you sat next to him for the first time on his bunk during their time in Hyperspace. He had disassembled part of his Firepuncher rifle, readjusting the scope and the barrel after it had unexpectedly jammed on their previous mission. He’d been annoyed – his prized weapon never faltered, and he was trying to figure out why it had failed on him when the thin mattress dipped next to him, and you asked what he was doing. When he’d given a particularly surly response, you nodded and then just continued to watch him. His eyes had slid to you.

“Can I help you with anything else?” He hadn’t meant it to sound so icy, but he had been frustrated with this rifle, with himself.

“Can you…explain what you’re doing?” you had asked hopefully.

He had looked at you sceptically. “Why?”

You just shrugged. “It looks interesting.”

He had studied your expression, trying to discern if you were being genuine. But you were. You always were with things like this.

So, he explained what he was doing, answered your questions and by the time his weapon was fixed, he didn’t even really remember his initial annoyance. You had smiled at him, your mouth stretching in a way that made your eyes light up. He felt a little flicker of something in his stomach before it was promptly extinguished.

Since then, you have spent time with him like that more often. Not just when he was cleaning his rifle, but other things. Like throwing Lula back and forth across the bunks as you both talked, joking about things that happened on missions. Sharing looks over briefings. Stealing Wrecker’s snacks.

But his favourite time with you was drawing on your datapad and trying to guess what the other was drawing. He had learnt you liked to draw and enjoyed drawing out something other than a medical diagram. He felt a sense of pride in making you laugh so hard you cried with his silly caricatures during long hyperspace trips. Exaggerated doodles of his brothers, tookas and the like, a portrait of you with a funny expression. You liked to draw him with a smile too big for his face, chuckling as you drew and then collapsing into laughter when you showed him. It always made the thing in his stomach flicker.

He really liked having you around.

So, when he came across your file when helping Tech, he couldn’t help but open it. You had told them all any information they had asked for, and information they had not. There wasn’t really anything you kept secret. But when he saw your ID holo looking particularly embarrassing: with wide eyes and a half-formed expression – like you were taken off guard by the photo, the corner of his mouth twisted up in an impish smirk.

He had intended to tease you about it; set the holo to the show on every Marauder screen so it was everywhere.

He opened the file to take a copy of the holo when he spotted details about your age and date of birth.

He frowned at the date. “Tech, what is today’s galactic date?”

Tech looked up from his datapad, adjusting his goggles before rattling off the date. “Why?”

He said your name before telling him, “It’s their birthday tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Tech blinked.

Age and birthdays were almost foreign concepts to clones. With accelerated aging and growing in a capsule, they didn’t really matter to them. Awkward to calculate, they weren’t celebrated. Crosshair had no idea when he had been ‘birthed’ or decanted, and if the Kaminoans documented such dates, then it was classified information. He knew his chronological age, but his biological age was a little murky. He knew he was a “mature clone”, however with the accelerated aging, he didn’t know where exactly he stood. None of their brothers knew any of these details. It was normal for them.

He read the date and your age. What would it be like to be so sure of something like that? To be sure of the parts that made up who you were?

Crosshair cleared his throat and closed the file without even copying the ID holo. He frowned to himself. Maybe he should’ve asked you about it before, but birthdays weren’t a part of his world, so he hadn’t thought to. But they were important to nat-borns, weren’t they? At least that’s what they’d all been told during their training modules.

When he lay in his bunk that night, he circled his mind for all he knew about birthday traditions. Gatherings. Food. Gifts. Would you like all that? Did you like all that? You seemed like you would. He didn’t know if it was something he would enjoy if he had a birthday…it didn’t really seem like his thing, but maybe he would. He would never know. He thought that Wrecker might be the only one who would enjoy a birthday. Maybe Echo too if you did it right. Same with Hunter.

But you hadn’t said anything about your birthday.

He had tossed and turned. You were part of their squad. You cared. Listened. Laughed. Did you not feel you could share the date with them? He didn’t know, and a part of him felt a little hurt that you might not feel you could. Were you not friends? Crosshair didn’t have many friends, but he knew they were supposed to tell each other things.

He turned again, crossing his arms against his chest as he faced the wall. Why did he even care? If you didn’t want to tell him it was your birthday, fine. He wouldn’t mention it.

He squeezed his eyes shut before sitting up on his elbows and craned his head to see you sleeping in your bunk. Through the darkness, his enhanced eyes saw you curled in yourself, and your nose twitched as you breathed deep and evenly. Something in his chest pinched. He sighed before laying back down and pulling the thin blanket over his head.

Now, as he found himself in this market the next day, he wondered what he was even doing here.

Once they had landed on Sorgan, they completed their mission easily with no complications. But Crosshair was still distracted by your birthday. You hadn’t even said anything when everyone woke up this morning. Just acted like it was any other day. You had just smiled at him as you tucked into a ration bar, saying good morning before throwing one to him to eat.

It puzzled him.

When you all started walking back to the Marauder after the mission, Hunter could tell something was up with him, nudging his shoulder.

“You alright?”

Crosshair had scowled at his brother. “…Yes.”

“You look deep in thought,” Hunter pointed out, falling into step with him.

Crosshair broke his gaze and looked away, back towards where they came, to the village they had just liberated. The thought had barely formed before he said, “Do we have time before the next mission?”

Hunter’s surprise showed in his voice. “We have a couple of hours, why?”

“I’ll be back later,” Crosshair walked off in the direction of the village before Hunter could say anything. His long legs carried him to the marketplace, where he stood now amongst the bustling bodies.

He just couldn’t get your birthday out of his stupid head; that you hadn’t said anything because clones didn’t celebrate birthdays. Just because he didn’t understand them, doesn’t mean he couldn’t try…for you.

He started combing through the vendors, most of which were finishing up resetting their stands after they fled suddenly several days prior. He moved from stall to stall, gazing at the different items over people's heads. Kriff, what were you even supposed to buy people for birthdays? Something they needed? Something they wanted? It was all a little overwhelming. And Crosshair didn’t get overwhelmed.

“Looking for something in particular, my friend?”

Crosshair startled and looked up to see the vendor, a greying man with a wrinkled face, horns protruding from his forehead and curled up in an elegant spiral shape.

Crosshair frowned, clearing his throat. “It’s…my friend's birthday today.”

The man’s face lit up. “Wonderful! Birthdays are special.”

Crosshair’s mouth tightened as the man continued to speak. “What were you thinking of gifting them?”

The hairs on Crosshair’s neck stood up with nerves. “I…I don’t know.”

The man’s face lit up. “Perhaps I can help.”

The man then went through the different items at his stand. He held up scarves, strings of beads, and handmade pottery. Crosshair thought they were all nice enough, but he wasn’t swimming in credits. And none of the items really felt like you. The vendor was patient, more patient than he should’ve been. Either he really wanted to help or was desperate for a sale in a competitive marketplace.

After many minutes and many items, Crosshair felt himself gradually stiffening, becoming more and more on edge and uncomfortable. He felt so out of his depth. He was always so sure of everything, and trying to do this thing he had no experience in, made him more vulnerable than he had in a long time. It was not a feeling he felt comfortable with. Never had been.

And as much as he liked you, maybe this was all a stupid idea. You hadn’t mentioned your birthday for a reason. He shouldn’t bring it up. If he did, he’d have to explain how he found out…and he didn’t want to go through that awkwardness. He was about to open his mouth and tell the over-enthusiastic vendor: thank you, but he wouldn’t bother with a gift, when the vendor clapped his hands loudly, making Crosshair jump.

“I may have something back here, hold on,” he said as he turned away to rifle noisily through a crate behind him.

Crosshair felt his fist curl at his sides, and this should’ve been his opening to slide away unnoticed until he looked down and saw a brown leather book. Crosshair halted and lifted a gloved hand to the soft worn cover, running his fingers over the engravings in the bound leather. He opened the cover, seeing it was a blank notebook, and it had a writing implement tucked into the spine. Not many people recorded things the traditional way anymore; datapads were much more efficient and stored more information than the pages of a notebook. He flicked through the pages, fanning them with his thumb. The dust drifted up and it was a smell he didn’t recognise, but he supposed it was the smell of paper.

“That’s a good choice.”

Crosshair retracted his hand as if he was a cadet being scolded, and looked up at the vendor, who held an oversized pot that would break the second it came aboard the Marauder.

“That would be a perfect gift,” the vendor continued, nodding at the notebook.

Crosshair looked at him before picking up the notebook – more surely this time, and turned it over in his hands. He imagined you in your bunk, scribbling in it at night with a torch in one hand. He imagined you keeping it under your pillow for safekeeping. He imagined you doodling in it, showing him your drawings with that smile on your face. He imagined drawing in it with you. The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

“How much?” Crosshair asked.

“It’s yours.”

Crosshair’s head snapped towards the vendor. “What?”

The vendor waved him away. “Take it.”

Crosshair blinked, confused. “…I have to pay you.”

“No, you don’t. I’ve been trying to sell that for years. You’d be doing me a favour.”

Crosshair furrowed his brow. “…Isn’t the customer supposed to be right?”

The vendor barked out a laugh. “Not this time, my friend.”

Crosshair dug into his pocket anyway and pulled out half the credits. “For your patience…at least.”

The vendor chuckled and took them. “Thank you. I hope your friend likes it.”

Crosshair didn’t respond as the man turned away, placing the pot down before calling out to other marketgoers, trying to entice them.

Crosshair walked back through the market, the notebook feeling heavy in his hand. Leaving the village, he made his way back to the Marauder, thoughts swimming in his head.

Kriff, what if you hated it? Or thought it was stupid? What if all his knowledge on birthdays was completely inaccurate and you would think him strange for giving you something? Or what if you just thought he was weird for getting you something at all?

Crosshair’s grip on the notebook tightened. He just wanted to do something nice. Like you always did for them. But this is why he avoided it. It was so vulnerable being nice. Being nice left you open for hurt, open for aching. It was much easier to keep it at bay, to restrict it. To hide it behind actions inconspicuously where it wasn’t out in the open. Being so open with it for you…he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it scared him. The doubt crept in. Crosshair had conviction and confidence, and he wasn’t used to it wavering like this.

He was just about ready to throw the notebook into a bush and never speak of it again when he heard your voice ring out from the steps of the Marauder.

“Crosshair!”

You placed your datapad down and ran over to him. He hid the notebook behind his back with both hands, gripping it so hard he knew his knuckles would be white as you approached him with a smile.

“Hey,” he said, hoping he sounded normal.

“Where’d you go? You disappeared after the mission.”

“I was just…looking for something,” he said carefully. Dank farrik, how was he supposed to do this? He thought he might just leave it on your bunk when you were distracted with a little note written inside the cover saying, ‘Happy Birthday’. That way he could avoid your reaction when you saw it. He didn’t even know how to get into the Marauder with it now that you were here in front of him.

You tilted your head with a quizzical smile. “Looking for something?”

Crosshair nodded. “I couldn’t find it,” he lied.

“Oh…okay,��� you looked at him weirdly. Would you look at him like that when you saw his gift?

Crosshair nodded to the Marauder, desperate to get on board and stow the notebook away until he could leave it on your bunk. “Should we go inside?”

You looked at him, narrowing your eyes. “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything, meshurok,” he lied, his grip tightening again.

“Yes, you are,” you sidestepped him to look behind him and he leapt out of the way. You grinned. “You are! What are you hiding, Cross? Why can’t I see?” you tried to chase him around, but Crosshair kept angling himself away. Kriff, he had never felt so stupid in his whole life.

“It’s nothing. Get your meddling hands away from me, you di’kut,” he walked backwards in a circle, his face and neck hot.

“Crosshair,” you chided, smiling at him. “Come on, is it really that bad?”

“Go away,” he grumbled, hands aching from holding the damned notebook so tight.

“Crosshair,” you said his name again, and your face was stretched in that playful grin that he’d unwillingly memorised. That thing in his stomach flickered again.

Then he remembered how you didn’t tell him about your birthday. And how you were friends, but you didn’t say anything about it. And how he had this unexplainable feeling he couldn’t name sitting in his stomach that compelled him to go to a village market and pick out a stupid gift for a birthday tradition he didn’t even understand just to do something nice for you the way you did for him and his brothers.

Crosshair’s expression flared and he shoved the notebook at your chest. You startled at your hand came up to grab it, sliding against his like a searing snake. He pulled his hand back and balled both at his sides as he gritted out, “Happy birthday.”

All he saw was your eyes were wide before he stalked off, almost stomping his way to the Marauder. His face burned, and embarrassment flooded his body. He felt so stupid, and he hated feeling stupid. He hated the feeling of being on the end of someone’s judgement. He hated knowing that he’d just been forced to make himself vulnerable. But mostly, he hated the feeling of you not trusting him with what was supposed to be the important parts of you.

“Crosshair!”

Your voice came from behind him, but he didn’t turn around. He was already planning different ways he could avoid you. He was going to lock himself in the ‘fresher until the next mission and make sure Hunter placed him on watch at opposite times to you. Whatever it took. His heart panged. You were one of the only people outside his brothers he liked. He would mourn the shared jokes and laughter, and time spent with you, knowing it couldn’t happen anymore.

“Crosshair, wait.”

He felt a hand on his arm pull him back. He swayed backwards, but he let you stop him. He avoided your gaze, scowl burning an outline in his brow as he stared off into the middle distance. Your hand stayed on his arm, and he felt it through the plastoid wrapped around his forearm, squeezing him there. It felt like part of him, and that made him feel both warm with content and spiked with anger simultaneously.

“Cross, please look at me,” your voice said quietly, and his heart squeezed. He slowly moved his gaze, looking down, then sliding his eyes to your bare hand on his arm before they lifted to your face. Your brows were slanted downwards, looking at him with such softness in your eyes he felt the flickering in his chest again.

“How did you…” your voice was soft and trailed off, notebook in your other hand.

“It doesn’t matter,” he dismissed with gritted words.

He felt your hand flex with your grip. “It does to me.”

He studied your face carefully before saying, “…I was helping Tech with cataloguing his files. I saw your birthday in yours.”

You continued looking at him with an indecipherable gaze and moved your hand slowly from his arm to his wrist, your bare fingertips brushing his gloves. You gently grazed his fingers as you let his hand drop softly. He watched you as you inspected the book, hands turning it over, fanning through the pages. He studied your expression, trying to discern what you thought, feeling anxiety grow in his stomach, his throat tightening. He felt something hot poke inside him as he watched your mouth turn up into a smile as you gazed at his gift.

“I’ve been so busy this year that I forgot about my birthday.”

Crosshair hoped he hid his surprise. You not telling him about your birthday…it was never about him. Of course, you had forgotten. The past six cycles had been a whirlwind for you trying to adjust to a soldier’s lifestyle, countless missions and trying to fit in with his brothers. His face burned again. He was a fool.

You looked up at him, a smirk itching the corners of your mouth. “Been too busy keeping you boys in line.”

Crosshair scoffed lightly, letting a puff of breath out of his nose. Your smile widened.

“This is a beautiful gift, Cross. Thank you for getting it for me,” you place your hand on his arm again, squeezing gently to show your appreciation He felt his heart lift and his cheeks redden, but this time, not in embarrassment.

He nodded at you. “I’m…glad you like it. I don’t have much experience with birthdays.”

Your smile touched the edges of your eyes. “That’s what makes it even more special.”

You reached up on your tip toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, embracing him. Crosshair stiffened in shock and surprise before he slowly wrapped his arms around your torso. His fingers grazed your sides, and there was something wildly comforting about holding you like this. He could feel the side of your face pressed into his neck, just below his ear, and your breath tickled the sliver of open skin not covered by his blacks. You were so warm. He felt you squeeze him gently and he didn’t stop himself from squeezing back.

You were his best friend, after all.

You pulled away, but not before you cupped his face and placed a kiss on his cheek. Crosshair flinched and his eyes widened as you lowered yourself back down on flat feet with one of the most joyful smiles he’d ever seen gracing your face. The action had surprised him more than anything else had.

“I’m going to show everyone what you got me,” you said before running off towards the Marauder.

“No, don’t, they’ll—” Crosshair started but you were already halfway up the gangplank. His brothers’ teasing was going to be ruthless.

He sighed, shaking his head before following you, that thing flickering in his chest. He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t try to extinguish it.

banner art by @vimse

mando'a / meshurok = gemstone thank you for reading! i did find this one slightly challenging bc it's very much crosshair in his head and i tried to write him how i thought he would react to a situation like this, but if it's a little OOC, i apologise! but i think he would react like this if someone he cared about didn't tell him something important about them; someone who was his friend and who he liked very much. i think he'd be kinda mad and hurt but he cares too much to not do anything at all. i have more gen requests on the way, so stay tuned if you're interested! <3

tags @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @snarky-mans-gf @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @rexamongthestars @r2d2staser @bluebird-dreams @pb-jellybeans @a-streakofblue @theawkwardartist12 @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo

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[doeilovr]

hello! are you open for request? i kinda want to request something but it has a lil bit of smut but you can do it your way if you're not really comfortable with it.

soo it's where jaehyun and the reader just cuddle and embrace each other's warmness, blabbering sweet nothings even praising each other and telling how lucky they are to be together.

that's all, if by any chance you are interested in writing this, i hope you enjoy it. thank you for the chance so i can send the request. im in love with how you write jaehyun stories so i thought you would rock this one too hehe. thank u once again, hoping u have a lovely days ahead!

summer mornings

-> Jaehyun x reader, fluff, 660 words

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You blinked your eyes open, still feeling jet lagged after your long flight the day before. You barely remember arriving at the hotel and checking into the room - somehow you made it though. Both you and your boyfriend Jaehyun immediately brushed your teeth - the suitcases parked somewhere in a corner of the room - and went straight to bed.

Now it was some hours later, the sun was already shining through the windows. A soft and fresh breeze caressed your skin. You sat up in bed and looked around, the doors to the balcony were open, white curtains gently swining in the wind. You got a sneek peak of the mediterranean sea, somewhere in Italy.

You heard shuffling and voices, but somehow you could not stop staring out of the window. It had its perks to being able to tavel with your international model boyfriend.

A shuffling sound made you eventually turn around, to find Jaehyun looking as gorgeous as ever, no shirt, just pyjama pants. You did not question anything, but welcomed the breakfast tray he was holding with a smile.

"Ciao bella", he said with a deep voice and sweet smile. You could have melted right there and then.

"What do we got there. Looking good."

Jaehyun put the tray on a table beside the bed. It had several pastries and an assortment of fresh fruit. Juice and coffee made everything smell amazing.

"In case your hungry, I ordered us breakfast." He sat down on the bed.

"I was not talking about the food", you smiled cheekily, grabbing his face and kissing him softly. There was nothing better than kissing Jaehyun and his soft lips. They tasted like orange and you suspected he already snacked on his way from the door to the bed.

"I missed you", he whispered. You knew it was ridiculous to say this, as you were literally sleeping next to him all night. It was maybe five minutes when he got up to freshen up and get the door that he did not see you. But you loved it.

"I missed you too", you smiled and kissed him again. The kissing intesified and before you knew it Jaehyun climbed on top of you, now kissing you a lot harder.

You relaxed under him, your hands roaming over his muscular back and then back to his defined abs. He was definitely crafted by the god himself.

You glanced up at Jaehyun, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. His eyes got darker and were full of hunger. For you or the freshly baked lemon roll next to you, you were not quiet sure. Probably both.

Jaehyun smiled gently. "You look beautiful. What do you say we eat some breakfast on the balcony first, before the coffee gets cold." You only nodded, before he continued. "And then we can come back to this."

You bit your lip and smiled. With Jaehyun still on top of you like this, feeling the heat of his body and his bare skin, you honestly could not really think straight.

"Or even better, after breakfast we could take a bath or shower."

Jaehyun nodded, waiting for you to finish your sentence. "And then?"

"No, that was it. We can take a bath or shower. But like, together."

Jaehyun's eyes widened. "Oh, well, yeah", he stuttered. Even after being together with you for a while, he was still surprised everytime you made such suggestions.

He got up quickly, fixing his hair, before he grabbed the breakfast tray and carried it to the table on the balcony. "Come on", he invited you.

You sat up in bed an watched him, smiling. He seemed in a rush, pouring some coffee and snacking on a slice of peach. "Hurry, let's eat fast, so we can take a bath."

Now you were laughing and even Jaehyun couldn't hold back. Safe to say it was a quick breakfast and a long, very long, bath afterwards.

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a/n: hello my guys :) so, this is a jaehyun request and although i couldn't do the smut i hope you still like it.. i love a jaehyun one shot and thank you for the lovely request <3

[another-lost-mc]

Hii, first of all, i love your writing 💕 and I hope you're doing well.

How do you think the bros would react watching the movie Se7en?

I think it would be interesting to see their reactions since the theme surrounds the seven deadly sins.

a/n: I love this movie! I re-watched while I worked on this since it's been a while. I wrote the blurbs in order of the sins as they're portrayed in the film.

➤ watching the movie se7en | the demon brothers

1k words | x gn!reader | nsfw | violence and dark/disturbing themes, demons thinking about demon things, movie spoilers

BEELZEBUB | the gluttony scene

Any other time, he'd be joking that if he had to die, he wants to die eating. He understands that now's probably not the best time to tell you that.

He feels a bit sad for some reason. He's not sure if it's the poor bloke's death on screen or the movie's gritty atmosphere in general.

Ravenous hunger has its downsides, but most of the time he enjoys eating food. He can understand why being forced to eat would be emotional and literal torture for someone.

He knows he could eat that much pasta without breaking a sweat, but he doubts it would be comforting to you so he doesn't say it out loud.

He wonders how much he'd have to eat for his body to break down in protest of finally being too full, but he keeps that to himself too.

MAMMON | the greed scene

It's not a horror movie but the dark vibe still gives him the creeps.

He hasn't had to look away (yet) but he tucks you closer to his side so you can cuddle. You can hide your face in his chest for the gross parts if they bother you, he won’t tease you.

He sorta gets an inkling about the greed motif— something about a scummy lawyer and money trading hands is his first guess about why this guy was targeted.

Eh, close enough.

There are a lotta ways to kill someone with greed without actually killing them, y’know.

(He doesn’t wanna talk about ‘em though. He doesn’t want you to think badly of him.)

BELPHEGOR | the sloth scene

What the actual fuck.

He was feeling a bit sleepy watching the movie up to this point, but he's not anymore.

He understands the interpretation of his sin, but he's surprised to see such an ugly version of it in a human world movie like this.

If he senses that you're uncomfortable, he tries to distract you until the scene ends.

Now seems like a great time to pause the movie so you can both get up and get a drink, or stretch—or maybe go for a nap if you're tired and don't want to finish it right now.

(He's going to make sure you don't have bad dreams after this.)

ASMODEUS | the lust scene

He's had custom sex toys made before, but something like this? Yeesh.

Literally fucking someone to death seems so brutal, so unromantic. This isn't how he would do it, but he doesn't tell you that; he doesn't want to scare you.

(If he had to kill someone using his sin, he'd fuck them before ripping them open from stomach to sternum.)

(If he had to kill you with his sin, he’d make love to you until you eventually fall asleep. Your death will be instant and painless before he cuts out your heart and eats it.)

He notices that this part of the movie made you squirm in your seat more than the others so far.

Maybe a warm bath and cuddling in his bed will help you relax once the movie's over. He’s suddenly overcome with the urge to hold you.

LUCIFER | the pride scene

It feels anti-climactic compared to some of the other portrayals of sin so far, but he appreciates the simplicity. He was afraid it would be needlessly gruesome like the others.

Pride is insidious, the mother of all sins, the first deadly bloom that causes all others to fester and rot on the vine.

He can’t help the way his mind wanders after this. As an angel, he tried to resist sin. As a demon, he embraces it. Humans are weak and he knows for many, pride is their downfall.

You might not believe you could be pushed to make such a fatal choice, but Lucifer senses the way your own blend of pride lingers within you too.

He keeps silent about those thoughts and he wraps his arm around you for the rest of the film.

LEVIATHAN | the envy scene

He’s unusually quiet. He doesn’t complain or whine about how boring it is, and he doesn’t reach for his handheld either. Sometimes he looks puzzled by what’s on screen, and other times he seems contemplative.

He’s a little surprised by the ending. Speechless almost. He understands envy, but to do all this?

And the part with the wife, well...he thinks it's just a bit of an overreaction, don't you?

He can’t help but glance at you once the movie's over. He thinks about life before you and life with you now; he can't imagine life without you in it anymore.

Would he be capable of that type of jealousy if you didn't choose him? If he had to watch someone else live their own happily ever after with you while he suffered alone?

Huh.

When the movie ends, he distracts you with an impromptu game night in his room and he cuddles with you in his tub after.

His tail curls around your leg as you drift off to sleep, and he realizes he'd do so much worse just to keep you by his side.

SATAN | the wrath scene

For the most part, he's been less interested in the portrayal of sins. He's totally wrapped up in the mystery aspect of the movie instead.

Throughout the entire film, he's muttered under his breath about certain things he noticed or his guess about what might happen next.

(He’s read all the books mentioned in the library scene too.)

He figured that the cop with the short fuse was going to be involved somehow with wrath. He actually thought the character was a bit annoying.

He does sympathize with the cop's behaviour at the end—all he has to do is think of someone hurting you and it makes him seethe with rage.

The reveal about the wife caught him completely off-guard but thinking about it later, it seems so obvious.

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Angst, grief, sorrow, fighting.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello angels, here is the next chapter hehe, bit of a sad one but what do we expect from SF&A at this point? Lmaooo. I've almost completely finished writing the whole series, so updates may become more regular as I pump it all out for you. What a journey this has been! Enjoy <3

Chapter 92: Burn Together

To say that things went back to normal would be a farce.

It was all a farce. 

The fake smiles. The small nods. The words of affirmation and condemnation. The false sense of security and even falser acts of content. It was all wrong. It was all changed. And it was all too much.

You spend much of your days in the Garden, sat where you were usually seated, staring out at the water as you tried to uphold some sense of strength. Tried to show some vision of superiority and that the loss of the child was divine intervention. As though the anger and hurt had gone, as though the sadness and regret had left, because you knew it was for the better, or perhaps the Gods had told you so. 

Words came to you rarely as you began to shrink into yourself again, but with each shrinking moment came the bursting strikes of life. Not happiness or joy, not frustration or longing, pure and uncontested rage.

Rage that it happened.

Rage that he had done nothing.

Rage at your stupidity.

Rage at your desire for more.

Aemond did not try to pry words from you, nor did he even try to touch you. He simply let you exist around him, giving you the space to come to him when needed. Late at night, in the darkness of the chambers you would roll to face him, and the most bitter of sobs would leave your lips. 

At first Aemond had been uncertain, and stayed still amongst the sheets, unsure of whether or not to hold you or offer you support. But when you had rolled and pressed yourself into his side, his arms had curled around you in a way that felt natural, as though your body was made to fit between his in such a way, and let you cry against his chest. 

Your clothes, your maids noticed, had begun to wear large on you, finding that you had no want to eat nor any appetite to do so. Even with the gentle encouragement of them both, you still did not find the heart to do it, looking at the bowl of star fruit in front of you, stomach full of lead. 

But Aemond allowed you to do it. 

He allowed you to grieve, but at some point, everyone has their limit, and it seemed that tonight was the night for his. 

“You need to eat, Y/n. You need move past this grief. Do not let it consume you.” He implored, grasping at your cheeks.

You pulled away from him, looking up at him with a shaky lip, “Nothing you do will ever make this okay! Nothing you say will take away what you have already done, or what you are to do.”

“What are you talking about?” He questioned, deep lines in his brow.

“This! Us!” You broke, “All of it. It seems as though the Gods have destined us with nothing but pain and agony, and how much more must I bear? My heart cannot take it, Aemond.” A tear slid down your cheek, “I am tired, but more than this I am so alone. So very much alone even with you standing in front of me. Even as I can reach out and touch you with mine own hands. Even as you promise me sweet nothings, I know that it will never be enough to satiate the hungers of the punishments I will soon be lashed with.”

Aemond shook his head, stepping forward towards you again, “Do you think I am going to hurt you? I’m not going to punish you for losing the child. It was not your fault.”

A sob fell from your lips, “Then why do I feel one coming? Why do I always feel as though I am one hair away from your cruelty? We take one step forward together and five steps back. I have given you everything, and yet what do you give me? Nothing. You did nothing. You stood there and watched as I was brought before Aegon. What if it had been me? I thought it was going to be me! And you stood there like a craven and just watched.”

His violet eye blinked at you, the sapphire beside it, still.

You sucked in a breath again, “You watched as your precious wife, the mother to your child, was brought to the throne by force. You watched as Aegon threatened to take my tongue. And what did you do, Aem? You stood there and did fucking nothing!” Anger rose within you, bubbling viciously beneath your skin, “You stood there like a craven as your brother accused me of treason! Your wife! Your supposed love! Your one childhood companion who did nothing but defend you, no matter the odds or punishment! It has always been me. I have been the only one to ever love you. The only one to ever care. The only one to ever defend you. How many times did I do that for you? From the training yard, to the dragon pit, to the Sept. And when the time came for you to defend my honour, you were that same, scared little boy who would hide in the tunnels after his brother would tease him.” Heat rose on your cheeks as you looked at your uncle, his face stern and his eye narrowed.

"You expected me to do what?" Aemond snapped, "What did you expect me to do in that moment? I was not even told you were being brought to the chambers. I could not have possibly done anything that would not have made it worse. If Aegon had seen me react, he would have delighted in the sight and been moved to do more."

You scoffed, “I am burdened with being wed to a coward who hides behind the illusion of duty. A man who cannot even stand up to his drunken, pathetic, whoring brother.” You forced out a humourless laugh, watching as Aemond became irritated, “My husband who rides the largest dragon in the world, my husband who is a skilled warrior; sits and waits to be told what to do like a dog. Doing everyone else’s bidding.” You stepped closer to him, eyeing him down, “If I had not seen your cock, I would have suspected you were a eunuch.”

“My duty is to my brother, to my mother. To my blood.” He sneered.

“And what of my blood, Aemond? What of our union? What of the prophesies from the Gods? Did they not command you to act as you watched me be dragged by men into the throne room? That babe may have been the Prince that was Promised, and now it is gone. Because of you.”

Aemond huffed, “I could do naught! He is my brother. He is the King.”

“And I am your wife! And the blood of the dragon between us runs thicker than the water of the womb you have shared. Like a scared little boy. Never have I seen you so pathetic. You left me for dead.”

Aemond scowled, “I would never do that to you.”

“And yet, you did. You left me at the hands of your brother. And you watched. You have only lost one eye, yet you are so blinded by your duty to them. I feel as though I have died already. I died the moment I watched you do nothing, as those men touched me, as the pain creeped into my womb. I died the moment I realised I meant nothing to you, and that you would let my fate fall into Aegon’s hands. Is this a cruel joke from the Stranger? Is my true reality too grievous for my soul to take? Am I destined for all eternity to love a man who does not love me back?”

“I do love you.” Aemond insisted, frustration in his tone.

“Then why do you let them hurt me?!” You cried, “Why do you hurt me? The Gods play tricks on my mind and my body, and punish me for your actions. She was your whore. Your bastard. And yet I was punished for it. Not you. Me.”

“I lost the child too, do you not think that it pains me so?”

“I know it does not! You did not feel it as I felt. You did not feel the life leave my body, or the pain that came after. You did not feel it pass through me.” You sniffed, another tear falling.

Aemond’s lip twitched as he looked down at you, voice dangerously low, “I thought I lost you both.”

“And that is where the sickness and depravity of the Gods come to fruition. It is a never ending cycle of hurt and be hurt. I do not know what they have planned for me, but I fear it, Aemond. I fear the path they have paved for me. That child was from them, I know it. I felt it in my bones. And yet we lost it. Will they punish me now for being so careless? Will they punish us both for not ensuring its birth? I cannot continue to wreak the consequences of the men around me. I will break. I will break like poor Helaena did. But even to that, there is nothing I can do because I fell in love with a man who’s actions wound me most terribly. There is this small, foolish piece of me still holding onto hope that the Aemond I grew up with would still care for me as he did.”

“I do. I love you deeply. I would do anything for you, surely you know this.” Aemond began, stepping forward to hold your face tightly in his large palms, thumbs brushing the tears that fell from your cheeks.

“It is okay,” You heaved a breath, “Please just tell me if it is a farce.” You grabbed his wrists almost desperately, “If you only say it so for the treaty. I will understand, I will even make my peace with it.” You said desperately,  “But please, I cannot survive my heart being torn apart by you any longer. I cannot do it, Aemond. I won’t. I will throw myself from Maegor’s Holdfast, I promise you this. I will set you free from these marriage bonds if you so wish, and my spirit from this earthly plane.”

Aemond stepped towards you, grabbing your shoulder and neck, fingers framing your chin, “Avy jorrāelan.” I love you, “Eman va moriot jorrāelatan ao.  Kesan va moriot jorrāelagon ao.  Se qēlossās kostagon ropagon hen se jēdar, se nyke iēdrosa jorrāelagon ao.” I have always loved you. I will always love you. The stars could fall from the sky, and I would still love you.  

Aemond’s eye narrowed as he spoke, brow furrowed in a way that creased the scar at his brow, “Eman jorrāelatan ao pār nyke ēlī ilagontan laesi va ao.  Se kesan jorrāelagon ao ēva ñuha mōrī jelevre.” I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you. And I will love you until my last breath.

A loud sob left your lips as your heart clenched in your chest at his words.

"Hen se gūrēñare yard, naejot se havor tistālion, ēza va moriot issare ao.” From the training yard, to the kitchen, it has always been you.

“Aemond.” You hands tightened around his wrists in a way that would have been painful as you clutched him for dear life.

The Prince pulled you forward towards him, clutching you against his chest as he let you cry, wrapping his large arms around you, blanketing you in a feeling of safety that only he could bring to you.

You cried into him, feeling the last of your resolve fall away, and the rawness of your grief exposed to the chambers. He held you to him tightly, afraid to let go, your hands tightly wrapped in the front of his tunic.

When Aemond finally pulled back, he brought his lips to yours. It wasn’t burning with passion or desire, it wasn’t laced with regret and grief, instead, his lips moved against yours like a gentle whisper of assurance, a smaller whisper of truth, and the almost invisible whisper of a promise, all of which was overpowered by one thing, and one thing only.

Love.

Your uncle pulled away, looking down at you with nothing but adoration as he spoke again,“Lanta rōvēgrie zaldrīzes perzyssy, hēnkirī hae mēre. Spool hen kasta, spool hen zōbrie. Iā rōvēgrie ropagon naejot letagon lanta hubon. Vējes naejot zālagon hēnkirī.” 

Two great dragon flames, together as one. Spool of green, spool of black. A great fall to tie two threads. Fated to burn together.  

Tears continued to fall, but not because of grief. Not because of the sorrow that swallowed you into its dark pit, its wispy tendrils pulling you beneath its icy surface. Not because of the regret that you had, or guilt that you felt for the Maester.

You cried because you knew it was the truth. 

You knew it to be.

It had to be. 

All of this could not be for naught.

“Avy jorrāelan.” I love you, He whispered again.

You gave him a sad smile in return, “And I love you, but I don’t think I will survive this.”

“I will not let them hurt you.” 

You looked at Aemond carefully, watching as the words left his mouth, at the way his eye held conviction, at the way his mouth held an almost Godly truth.

The way he said it to be true.

As though speaking would make it so.

“You already have.”

Aemond dipped his head towards you again and kissed you, pulling you against his body once more as you wrapped your arms around him, sighing into the kiss, feeling relief in his touch, safety in his arms, warmth in his reach.

Slowly Aemond moved you backwards towards the bed.

Your heart did not race nor skip, your breath did not hitch, and you went with him willingly, hands reaching the bottom of his tunic to begin unclasping the latches that held it together. 

When the last clasp was undone, your hands skated beneath gently, softly, slowly, and moved up his torso, feeling the hard lines of his body, and the warmth of his skin, and the subtle breaths that he took as you made your way to his shoulders, hands moving beneath to slide it off his his body. It fell to the floor, the next his under tunic, and before long, your hands reached forward to unlace his breeches. 

Aemond spun you softly, pushing your hair away from your neck and forward over your shoulder, kissing the bare skin as he unlaced and the back of your gown, the heavy material sagging on your body until it slid to the floor beneath you. 

Breeches and chemises were lost, boots and stockings tossed, until finally the two of you laid atop the green sheets of your bed, his callused hands skating over your skin in reverence, with undying patience and care. 

First he took you with his mouth, bringing you to your peak with the help of his long fingers, stretching you open for him and whispering words of praise against your slick skin. When you peaked with a cry, he kissed his way up your body, through the valley of your breasts until he hovered above you, seeking permission to move as he lined himself with your core. 

You tilted your head upwards, chasing his lips as he slid inside of you slowly, the both of you moaning into each others mouths. Pleasure coursed through you with every thrust, heat blooming in your core as he made love to you for the first time.

It was not possessive or rough, violent or haste, it was slow, and sensual, hands mapping out bodies, savouring the flickering sparks that spouted beneath your skin. The small sighs that he made, the moans as he dipped his head into your neck.

All of it devastatingly pure.

The tears came without you even noticing them there, Aemond finding them upon your cheeks with a moment of concern. He brushed the tears away from your cheeks as he stilled, the length of him throbbing inside of you, desperate to keep moving. 

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head vehemently, “I wish we hadn’t wasted so much time apart.” You whispered, hips moving up to meet his, encouraging him to move again, “I wish the war had not happened.” Aemond slid through your folds as you babbled beneath him, “I wish that we had not done the things we had done.” 

Aemond bent his neck to kiss you again, tongue chasing yours before he pulled away, the breath having been stolen from your lungs.

“We cannot go back, we can only move forward.”

You nodded, weakness and sorrow buried down beneath you as you looked at him with determination.

“Burn together.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

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[little-diable]

Riders of the Orange Hues - Cowboy!Tommy Shelby (smut)

This is fully dedicated to @runnning-outof-time since K loved my other Cowboy!Tommy fic so much. I decided to turn this into a series so it may make more sense to read this fic as a part one, but you don’t really need it to understand what’s going on. I listened to the 1883 TV show theme while writing this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Now that Tommy and (y/n) have decided to stay together to move further up north, Tommy lets her in on his plan to rob Luca Changretta. He promises her that it'll be an easy job, nothing will go wrong, or will it?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, public smut, guns

Pairing: Cowboy!Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (about 3k words)

absolutely glorious gif designed by Vi 🤍

Part 1 Part 3

The sun was about to set, drenching the horizon in a deep orange as they had their eyes set on their horses. They had been riding for the past week, leaving Ada’s home behind to make it further up north, without a final destination in mind. Both were still figuring out what it was that kept them tied together, besides the clear attraction and hunger they had for one another. And yet neither (y/n) nor Tommy seemed to worry about the questions lingering in the air, wondering if they should tie the knot eventually. 

“The train arrives on Sunday, right?” She broke the silence, letting her eyes find his bright ones. His hat covered most of his face, the handsome features she’d stare at whenever he found himself distracted enough. 

“At four pm, we won’t have much time, but it should be an easy in and out, grab his suitcase and leave.” (Y/n) could only hum while pondering over his words. Days ago Tommy had told her of his plan, the robbery he had been thinking of for months now, all thanks to Ava and the way she had obliviously shared all the details he had needed.

Luca Changretta was coming to town, a man Tommy had always detested since getting involved with him a while ago. And even though he couldn’t risk ending up behind bars without a home nor a wife by his side, which could instantly push him towards an end by the string, he didn’t mind a robbery that could help him and (y/n) survive for months. He knew the man travelled with his own case of cash, enough money to trap whoever he was set on visiting, smaller details Tommy hadn’t focused on until now. 

“What should I even say to him?” Her fingers fumbled with the fabric of the dress she wore. It was surprisingly still clean, giving her a better chance to blend in with those she was about to cross paths with at the train station. 

“You don’t need to say anything, sweetheart. He’ll see you and will be distracted enough.” Heat rose up her body at his charming words. She pushed herself closer, resting on his chest to let her lips meet his. The hum ripping through Tommy buzzed down her spine, forcing her even closer as both his big hands found her warm cheeks. Without breaking the kiss, she took his hat to place it on top of her head, smirking at Tommy as they parted to inhale some air. 

“Who knows, maybe I’ll just take all the money for myself and live like a true outlaw.” Squeals followed her words as Tommy squeezed her side. His smile was unwavering as he pulled her into his lap, letting his hand rest on the exposed parts of her thighs. For a moment, they didn’t share a word, getting lost in one another’s eyes before she kissed him again while working on his trousers. 

The past days had proven to (y/n) that Tommy was ready to fuck her whenever and wherever, no matter where they were at, he’d gladly fuck her at any given chance. And she was more than happy to be loved by him, to feel his hands on her. 

A groan left him as she freed his hardening cock, spat into her hand and began pumping him, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin pressed against hers. Tommy allowed her to move for a few moments before pushing her hand away, silently telling her that he needed more, asking her to ride him. 

His warm hands stabilised her frame as (y/n) sank down on his cock, feeling every vein, every ridge. She needed to hold still for a few seconds, unable to move as her walls fluttered around him. Only as Tommy began to shift, needing to feel more of her, did (y/n) give in. 

With their eyes holding contact, (y/n) fucked herself on his cock, moaning loudly for Tommy who was the only one near, the only one who was fortunate enough to pick up on her sounds. She was certain that whatever would happen to them, nothing could ever rip them apart, united beneath the starry sky, the burning sun, the pouring rain, and the wind that whispered to them as if it were an old friend of theirs. 

“I love you, Tommy.” (Y/n)’s cried words left him chuckling, forcing her down for a breathless kiss while jerking his hips. His cock disappeared deep inside of her, brushing against the right spots that made her see stars even though the sky was still drenched in different colours. 

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Her head rolled back to give him enough room to kiss her throat, to suck marks into the skin he’d caress whenever she was fast asleep but still searching his closeness. It felt like a fairytale almost, like an outlaw couple ahead of their time, reborn in the following century. Made to fit, made to love, made to fight. They were created for an end that would eventually come upon them, an end both would live through with hearts beating in sync and calloused hands interlaced. 

Her cry left (y/n) as her orgasm shattered through her, forcing all air out of her lungs. It felt as if she was drowning, surrounded by soaring waves she couldn’t escape while Tommy followed her into the dark ocean. Both clung to one another, holding on as their world stopped spinning for a moment or two. 

“It’s you and me against the world, don’t you ever forget that, sweetheart.” 

……

Even though it had only been a few days since they had last been in a city, (y/n) couldn’t stop herself from staring at the big crowd of people they pushed past. It felt unfamiliar almost, even though she had spent the past years in towns like these, towns other travellers were warned of. Nothing good came from these cities, nothing but death who seemed to follow them all around. 

Tommy and her rode past different shops, saloons, and a church where she made a silent promise to visit it later on. The sun stood high as they kept moving, following them as if it was laying out a path for them to walk along, guiding them to the spot Tommy had in mind. It was midday, only a few hours away from four pm, and yet it was all (y/n) could think of, the crime they were about to commit. 

She was no stranger to crimes, had grown up surrounded by committed crimes on a weekly basis, but it felt different with Tommy by her side. The situation had a foreign thrill to it, pushing anticipation through her veins like bourbon burning down her throat on a busy evening. 

(Y/n) had faith in Tommy and his promises, she knew they’d end the day with more money in their pockets than they could count with their bare hands, but a silent warning still lingered, telling her that it won’t be as easy as Tommy had promised. Whatever may happen to them, she could only pray that it would be him and her against the world, just like he had murmured to her in the early morning hours when the bright stars protected them. 

“Let’s get some food before we make it to the train station.” They came to a halt in front of a big saloon, dropping back to their feet which were grateful to feel some soil beneath them. Tommy took care of their horses while (y/n) made it into the place, letting her eyes take in the big bar, the women wearing high dresses that exposed most parts of their thighs, and the men with dirty faces matching Tommy’s and hers. 

She felt his hand on her lower back to guide them towards an empty table by one of the windows, offering a perfect view onto their horses and the busy street. (Y/n) didn’t pay attention to the stew Tommy ordered for them, fully focused on the things her tired eyes found. Years ago she would have slapped herself for living like that, side by side with a man who hadn’t asked her to marry him yet; who was a criminal; who asked her to sleep in the middle of nowhere. But god, she could no longer imagine living any other life. This was all she needed for the rest of the life she had been offered. 

“Look at me, sweetheart.” Tommy interlaced their fingers as he spoke. Her eyes found his piercing ones before she studied his dusty features. His cheeks had gotten a nice tan the past days, tickled by the burning sun they had to live with for a few more weeks before autumn would come upon them.

“It will be alright, I promise. They will be too distracted to notice what’s going on. And tonight we will leave this place behind and never return.” All (y/n) managed to do was shoot him a soft smile before focusing on the stew that was placed on their table. Everything seemed to move awfully fast these days, life had made changes she hadn’t been prepared for, and yet she tried to find calmness in slower moments–like the steam of the stew slowly rising, dancing in the air like the steam of the train would in a few hours. 

No words were shared between them as they ate, something she had been forced to accept these past days. Tommy Shelby was many things, but he wasn’t a man of many words, keeping most of his thoughts and longings hidden from (y/n) who was greedy for the moments where Tommy graced her with his voice. 

The second they paid and left the saloon again, (y/n) turned towards him with a soft smile. She looked at him for a moment or two before clearing her throat, “I’d like to visit the church. Do you want to wait here for me or should we meet somewhere else?” 

“Will you let me come with you? You shouldn’t be alone around here.” A hum left (y/n) at Tommy’s words. With a soft smile playing on her lips, she pulled him in for a kiss, letting her tongue run along his lower lip as if a part of her knew that what was about to roll upon them would remind her of this very moment and their kiss. 

……

Her heart was in her throat. From her spot, (y/n) watched the train move closer, eyes flickering to Tommy who stood far from her, not daring to turn towards her once. (Y/n) tried to remind herself of his words, an easy in and out. All she had to do was cross paths with the man Tommy had described to her over and over again. 

It shouldn’t be hard. All she needed to do was put on her pretty smile, letting her eyes do most of the talking while colliding with his chest. Tommy would take care of the suitcase, grab the money and leave the same time she did. It won’t be hard. 

The metallic smell of the approaching train hung in the air, mixed with the scent of burning coal. She fought against the need to cough while she tried to remember the last time she had seen a train. It must have been years, it was a sight she still wasn’t used to, amazed by the size of the train, the way it moved faster than her eyes were used to. A spectacle through and through. Perhaps one day she’d be fortunate enough to ride with a train herself, with Tommy by her side. 

A shaky exhale left her as the sound of the blown whistle rang in her ears, telling her that the moment was upon them any minute now. She had to dry her sweaty hands on the fabric of her dress, trying to stop them from trembling while her feet carried her further towards the train. She walked past Tommy without looking at him once, even though she felt his eyes on her for a moment or two. 

(Y/n) counted the seconds, watching the train come to a halt to allow those who wanted to get off to step out into the warm afternoon. It didn’t take her long to spot her target, the man with the prominent nose and the features that already screamed of anger and troubles. Her feet carried her towards him while she pulled the small bible from her pocket, opening it at a random page to let her eyes focus on the pages, perfecting her little stunt. 

Within moments, she collided with Luca Changretta’s chest, squealing loudly while losing her balance. Her wide eyes flickered up to meet his as his hands darted out to catch her before she could fall. From the corner of her eyes she could see a few other men surrounding them, all had their focus on her.

“I am so sorry, god, I am such a klutz.” Her voice trembled while she bat her eyelashes at him. The men chuckled while they kept studying her, making (y/n) feel more uncomfortable by the second. She needed to get out, and could only hope that Tommy had used their moment of distraction to grasp the suitcase that had been dropped as she had collided with Luca. 

“Tell me, principessa, what is your name?” Luca Changretta kept holding onto her. His eyes didn’t stray from her once, leaving her to wonder what these eyes had seen those past decades he had been alive. Not an ounce of sympathy swam in his pupils. And at that moment, (y/n) knew that something was wrong, something they hadn’t calculated had happened. 

The pick Luca kept chewing on was spat to the ground as an unfamiliar voice filled the momentary silence. The men surrounding Luca parted, giving (y/n) a clear view onto her lover who had his gun directed at another man she hadn’t seen before. 

“Right, I should have known you’d linger in these paths, Tommy, shouldn’t I?” The new man wore a smile on his lips, framed by the thick beard that seemed to match his slightly unruly hair. (Y/n) began to tremble in Luca’s grasp who didn't seem to even think of loosening his grasp on her. The man who had spoken just now seemed to enjoy the situation, ignoring the gun Tommy had directed at him. 

Her eyes met Tommy’s bright ones, hoping that they could wordlessly communicate about the outcome of this situation. Perhaps she could add another layer to their scheme, acting as if she didn’t know Tommy nor about the games that were now being played. 

“I was waiting for you, Shelby. You’ve got yourself a pretty prize here.” Luca’s breath clashed against her neck as he pulled (y/n) closer against his chest. Italian words left him, words she didn’t understand as it began to dawn on her that they’d only get out of this mess with a shootout. 

“Since when are you travelling with the Italians, Alfie?” Tommy’s voice dripped with anger and a hint of desperation, something the others hopefully didn’t pick up on. He wasn’t stupid, knew just like (y/n) that they were trapped in a situation that wouldn’t end with a simple chase. It was do or die; shoot or be shot. It would end with a loud bang, but neither Tommy nor (y/n) knew yet who’d end on the ground. The two of them or the others. 

Her eyes wandered towards the gun of the guy standing closest to her and Luca. And then something inside of her switched, something that whispered to (y/n) that it was on her to gain all their attention once again. The plan wouldn’t fail, it couldn’t. Tommy had promised her that it would be simple, easy in and out. Lies nothing but lies. But the moment hadn’t passed just yet, the chance was still tangible. 

(Y/n)’s hand darted out to reach for the gun of the guy. She was ripped back by Luca but managed to cling to the cold weapon with her dear life. Without thinking twice, she uncocked the gun while ramming her elbow against Luca’s stomach. The man let go of her with a groan, allowing her to turn towards him with the gun pointed at him. 

Perhaps it was a foolish thing to do, turn her back towards all these men who could instantly shoot her. But so far no shots could be heard, nothing but the laughter of the man Tommy stood close to, Alfie, or so it seemed. 

“You’ve found yourself a right devil there, haven’t you, Shelby?” She felt powerful, at least for a second or two. Until Luca darted out, grasped the gun from her hand, and pulled her back against his chest. The muzzle of the revolver felt cold against her skin as Luca pushed it against her left temple. (Y/n)’s panicked eyes found Tommy’s darkening ones, who no longer focused on the man next to him but on Luca himself. 

“I think we’ll keep her for a while, see this as a warning, Tommy Shelby. Don’t cross me again.” She got the chance to look at Tommy once again before she was hit with the grip of the revolver. Darkness engulfed her, wrapping her in its comforting embrace before sacking into Luca’s hold.  

[paxarsenal]

Organic Music, Organic Love

As requested by @mx-jester, I shall write another Wavewave fanfic! This time, Soundwave gets a bit tired from working...

~~~

Another solar-cycle passed into another mega-cycle. After Shockwave’s initial return, the work within the Nemesis grew tenth fold. Project Predicon as dubbed by Shockwave resumed continuation. The scientist’s underground project not only sucked numerous supplies and resources from the flying ship, but management became desperate and demanding. Not to mention draining every contributing bot’s Energon tank into oblivion. Recharged wasn’t a choice either.  No Transformer could escape this, not even the notorious workaholic communications officer among them. 

Soundwave limped through the hallways. He hadn’t had a dose of Energon since last 48 breems. His engine tank hissed and churned. The HUD visor screen flashed uncontrollably as a desperate call to restock his falling system. Megatron began countless affairs of servitude to the Decepticon cause while Starscream occupied himself with other tasks. It left Soundwave starved and meek, his chassis armor heaving in weight from exhaustion. His digits couldn’t even lift a rusting nail after he finished the final round of code. 

Fortunately, what seemed to be a “mess hall” came to view. Mess hall was an overstretched definition. A large hall with unordered stacks of random trinkets and tools laid in corners as numerous Vechicons crowded the space. Soundwave immediately begrudged his decision. He didn’t want dinner disturbance from the terrible gossips and chatters, no less the own voices of meddling lower mechs. 

Nevertheless, the violet bot turned to the supply table and took out a fresh Energon cube. Soundwave settled into a corner where the light won’t reach and opened his visor, quickly chugging at the drink before slamming the empty shell down. One wasn’t enough. Eventually, Soundwave found himself surrounded by ten high Energon between his desire and hunger. At the end of the cycle, two refreshments were left unscathed. 

Groups of Vechicons suddenly burst into shouts. It perked Soundwave’s attention, turning to the crowd where the one and only Knockout stood in glowing scarlet paint. That particular mech always had something to ‘go on about’ and this solar-cycle wouldn’t be his last. 

“Ah ha,” Knockout jolted slightly in barely controlled excitement. The sports car bot moved out of the way to reveal a small unfamiliar device sitting on the table. It was rusting and dull. A small antenna and loudspeaker stood out from its design. Soundwave titled his helm curiously, signaling Knockout to continue his discovery. 

“I found this machine that organics love to use as entertainment. It’s called a radio!” Knockout announced, “It isn’t like our own radio transmitters, but plays music or news! Listen and watch!” 

The red medic pressed a few buttons and static began to roll over the radio until a coherent tune played. A few Vechicons ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ while others clapped along to the music. Knockout even began to sway his metal hips as he hummed the melody, almost as if he knew the song by spark. Soundwave didn’t know what to say; he was speechless for once, even if he never said anything at all. Words couldn’t describe how much he wanted to convey… 

Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like on

A-Jupiter and Mars

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, baby, kiss me

It brought him back to Cybertron. There was a refill shack down the barren streets of Kaon; Shockwave and Soundwave idly pass around and about at the bar counter, bland conversation after the next. With diluted Energon in servo, their night held up. The hangout was a few from the first, and both mechs struggled for words. It wasn’t until Shockwave introduced him to a new discovery. 

“Organic music, have you heard of it?” Shockwave said, his voicebox rough from venting in the planet’s particles of land-waste dystopia.

“Negative: Soundwave… intrigued.” 

Shockwave went on. “For mega-cycles, our scientific team detected some wave signals in search for surplus Energon. However, unlike ours, it played organic tunes and sung songs from planet Earth.”

“… Songs,” Soundwave replayed with Shockwave’s audio. 

Shockwave shook his helm. “Exactly, a worthless find but nevertheless entertaining,” he hummed. His red lens burnt a bit bright as he looked towards the violet gladiator. “Care to listen when you’re available?”

There wasn’t a next time.

~~~

The radio continued to play as it lulled to a soft jazz. 

Between the commotion and music, Megatron strode into the crowd with Starscream behind him. The Cons immediately scattered, shifting to precarious position in the mess hall whereas Knockout straightened up his gears and bowed to the warlord. Brief exchanges of information and duties were made as the mech with a bucket for helm scorched the floor. Starscream looked unequally pleased, towards Megatron or to the various Vechicons horsing around, it didn’t matter. The trio of light and dark grey plus a hint of red set forth to the control room. Soundwave assumed he wasn’t needed; Megatron would have called him over since the two exchanged brief eye contact for one another. With the three gone and most of the Vechicons returning to their initial work, it left Soundwave to temporarily freedom. He spotted the lone radio; Knockout must had forgotten it with Megatron’s unexpected visit. 

With the bots gone, Soundwave removed himself from the seat and picked up the two remaining Energon cubes. His footsteps slowed and reached for the device before disappearing out of the exit.

Soundwave strolled down the hallways towards the end-most area of the Nemesis. Unexpressive yet knowing, he thought to himself: Did Shockwave ate today? Time seemed to have past but there were no implications to how much went on. Could be solar-cycles until now. The thought only made him squeeze the Energon cube until it pulsed with glowing blue liquid.

At last, he was outside of Shockwave’s laboratory. 

“Soundwave?” His partner said upon seeing the mech enter his chambers, “What a lovely surprise.” Soundwave nodded his helm and placed the neatly stacked Energon on the lab table and slide them towards the Empurata. Shockwave gave a quick thanks before heading back to work. However, another metal click alerted the violet bot to look the rusting item.

“Ah, a radio,” Shockwave mused, inspecting the musical machine with delicate digits. “It’s a delight to see in front of me.” Soundwave nodded to his statement. He trotted to Shockwave’s berth before sitting on it. Both had became familiar again after Shockwave’s return, and to sit on his personal recharge station was another pastime for Soundwave. The action itself stood pure among the other intimate activities they did behind closed doors. 

“I’m impressed, you remembered,” the Empurata hummed, “How long ago was that? Do you recall?” 

“Negative.”

“I’m not surprised.” Soundwave chuckled at that.

Shockwave pressed a button on the device as it played, almost like it was filled with genuine compassion. He motioned himself to Soundwave where he sat quietly and obediently. 

Fill my heart with song and let me sing forevermore

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore

In other words, please be true

In other words, I love you

Both idly listened. Their visors gazing over the other for an answer. Shockwave was the first to avert his gaze, Soundwave followed. A heavy wave of exhaustion suddenly occurred within Soundwave’s frame. His helm drooped before tiling back up. 

Shocked noticed.

“Soundwave… Comms to Soundwave,” Shockwave said softly, his large figure hovering over Soundwave’s fatigued body. A gentle sharp servo cupped his helm as Soundwave swatted it away embarrassed. Of course, Shockwave didn’t know that. 

“You seem exhausted.” 

His partner fought to say no, yet his protoform betrayed his mind as he swayed once his pedes attempted to get up. Just in time, the scientist caught him in his gun arm. Perhaps he was, Soundwave concluded.

“Rest, you can borrow my berth for tonight,” Shockwave insisted. It took a few seconds before he added: “I won’t be too nosy.” 

Soundwave measly laid on the berth as told. He listened to Shockwave work. The soft music took any tension left unscathed and that helped him rest. Soon, the mech felt at peace for the first time. No code, no war, and no annoying Starscream buzzing to keep him awake. His HUD visor turned to Shockwave, his back facing him yet the purple con recognize that silent treatment.

“Soundwave… do you think this war would end?”

“…” 

“Is that a ‘Stand By’?”

“… Affirmative.”

“How illogical of an answer, but I suppose as a scientist—not a time traveler, your answer is most definitely logical.”

Fill my heart with song

Let me sing forevermore

You are all I long for, all I worship and adore

In other words, please be true

In other words

In other words

I love you

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

Hi girlie!! Firstly, your works are Amazing!!!

Do you think you could do wilson and the reader having sex in his office after the poker charity event. Maybe she was using like a sexy dress, and Wilson was turned on by it so he couldn't keep his hands away all night?🩷

Have a good day!💞

So sorry for the long wait but this is my first time writing smut and I wasnt really confident in it but you deserved a fic so here it is!!

A Game of Luck

James Wilson x reader

description - James is very distracted.

word count - 1k

warnings - smut, 18+

a/n - watched an ep of House last night to get me back in my Wilson mood! Also first time writing smut so I'm not too confident in it! Hope its good!

Masterlist

REQUESTS OPEN - request here

Y/n walked down the corridor in search of her boyfriend who’d seemed to have left the poker game in quite a rush. It was the hospitals annual charity fundraiser, this year in the form of a poker tournament. She knew her James loved poker but she also knew that his skills were rather lacking, especially compared to his friend, House.

Y/n searched for a while until she happened upon him in his own office. To be fair she really should have checked there first, but hindsight is a great thing isn’t it.

He’d shed his blazer which now haphazardly lay on his couch. His braces were on full view and she bit her lip looking at how he wore his suit. He looked so refined and her thighs clenched when she observed him strutting about his office with ease. She knocked on the open door to announce her presence.

He turned round and lit up with a smile. “Darling, there you are.”

“I was about to say that to you.” She giggled. “Where did you scamper off to.” She approached him and threw her arms around his neck to bring them together in a more intimate embrace.

“House business.” He drawled out.

“Say no more.” She whispered and punctuated it with a gentle kiss to his lips. Eventually they both relented to deepen the kiss and their mouths moved in sync. Tongues battled for dominance as their lips began to bruise. Y/n was the first to pull away.

“Congratulations by the way.” She grinned up at him. “Big spender.” She gripped her lip between her teeth as she whispered out the title.

“Why thank you, but I would have been hopeless without my lucky charm.” As he spoke his fingers absentmindedly stroked the silky material which hugged her waist.

“Always glad to be of service.” Both of them spoke in near whisper as if cherishing this moment for the two of them. His fingers began to tighten on her waist, and she felt the grip through her dress. It wasn’t painful, it was possessive.

“However, my love, most of the time you proved to be,” His hands slid down and came to rest on her ass. She deliciously flinched at his actions; a little gasp escaped her lips. “Quite the distraction.” He found solace in her neck and as he sunk in deeper he littered little bites and kisses over the expanse of that skin. She gasped once he hit that special nerve and she gripped his forearms tighter. Her pelvis flushed against his trying to prolong their contact. She bucked into him so much that he had to still her hips as he pulled away so he could look down upon her with hunger.

Without breaking eye contact, he used his frame to push her towards the expanse of his desk. Her hips hit the wood and she stumbled in time with the rattle of his possessions. His hands dragged further down until they rested on her rear, and she gasped as he lifted her effortlessly and dropped her on the surface of his desk. He resumed his attack of her neck. In response to his sweet kisses, she ran her hands up his neck and gripped his chocolate locks and the other held his shoulder tight; anything to ground her from the pleasure of her nerves alight.

Both of their clothes became too restricting, and James responded by ripping down the straps of her dress, offering up more skin for consumption. She in turn ripped open his shirts so the buttons went flying into a mess which would be dealt with later. He littered kisses across her chest and she threw her head back as each nerve alighted.

His hands fumbled with his trousers which had tightened. But his hands were replaced with her own soft ones which undid the belt and the zipper with unbearable cautiousness. He panted at her slow movements which were aimed at torturing his desperate form.

Eventually she took pity and deftly undid the rest and pulled out his throbbing dick.

She curled her free hand around his back and felt the defined muscles contract under his soft skin. She used her nails to scratch down his back and drag him towards her desperate frame. Their lips were inches apart and their pants mingled into the heated air. She threw her body forward to meet his lips but was stopped by his hand which gripped her chin with firmness.

“Now, are you going to be a good girl and be very quiet for me.” He whispered and his words landed on his sweaty cheek. She nodded at breakneck speed and whimpered at the excruciating pause in their activities.

Without any warning he slammed into her. She gasped at the unexpected intrusion but slowly moaned at the satisfying fullness. He began to thrust into her at a speed of a starved man. His head was buried in her neck, and she placed a multitude of kisses on his own. Her hips bucked up to meet each thrust so that they were always linked. Her hands gripped around his back in desperate ferocity.

Their moans mingled in the thick air which pulsed and throbbed around their sweaty bodies.

His hands were tightly clasped around her arse and relished in digging his fingers into her plush flesh. As the speed picked up and both were getting closer to release, y/n dropped her back down onto his desk making James drop down, halted by his elbows, so he covered her like a predator ready to devour its prey.

With one final thrust, they reached their climaxes together, halting all previous movement. James gazed down at her flushed out face, lovingly. He stroked down her cheek, pushing away damp strands of hair. He carefully leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

There was a loud knock at the door.

“Fuck off, House.” James mumbled as he helped Y/n to sit up properly.

“You need to see this!” House protested.

“FUCK OFF, HOUSE.” James and Y/n both shouted.

[yoke9494]

Baby Bunny🐇 pt2

Sorry for the wait! It's a bit short. I've been getting my health in check so I haven't had alot of time to write. More coming soon! ♥️

Read Pt.1 Here.

_______________________

Sleep.

If you stay asleep you wouldn't feel the cold, if you sleep you wouldn't feel the fear or hunger that painfully ran through your body.

Sleep.... Why couldn't you just sleep!!

"Go to sleep my baby carrot. Tomorrow is a new dawn, the sunshine will chase away all the darkness.."

You began to weep when you swore you heard your mother's voice echo in your floppy ears.

Her soft voice was like a soothing melody that chased away the awfulness of the day, the fear of what goes bump in the night.

You curled in on yourself even tighter as you imagined her in her favorite rocking chair. Her spotted ears blending into her hair the same ways your's did. The smile she wore as she told your favorite little bed time story about the sun. You and all your siblings sinking into the mattress, your eyelids became heavier as her voice sang you all to sleep.

Oh how you missed it, being a child, at this moment.

You felt someone vibrate,no it was someone purring.. A heavy hand trying to get all the tangles out of your hair. "Y/n? You need to get up and eat what they gave us.. You'll get yourself sick.."

You didn't want to. Your body has given up..  "This is all sick Lucy.. Sick."

Who was Lucy?...

Lucy was the cat from before. He had become more talkative and gave you his name when you and him were shoved in another metal cage, this time together. Eventually you gave him your name as well-- but that was about it.

Oh how you just wanted to die.. How you just wished to disappear-- things had gotten so bad since being brought to this new hell....

All because you didn't want to eat. Just one meal-- you skipped only one!

Your stomach was in knots, even the smell of the plain rice had you nauseous. But that wasn't a good enough excuse for the vile men around here, you were dragged out of the cage by your ears for being so ungrateful.

The dirty man had rolled you over and began to paw at your soft skin with his rough hands. He was going to use you like those other men used that poor songbird.

No matter how much your cried, scratched, and kicked. That only seemed to excite him even more!

But before his pants could drop down to his ankles. Your body jerked from a violent bang. A warm liquid rolled down your back..

He was shot right between his eyebrows. You don't know who he was, only the fact that he was the same man that pointed at your rusted cage days before.

He didn't say a word to you as he shoved you back into the cage. He didn't even seem disgusted that was was touching you while you were covered in another man's blood..

Only for him to come back after an hour to hose you down and throw you into another cage with Lucy.

And now here you are, slowly shutting down together..

His purring got a little louder as he curled up next to you. A way of trying to comfort the both of you and for warmth. "The sun will chase away the darkness. It'll be okay."

You let out a choked breath.. And turned to him with tears in your eyes. "What did you say?"

He shrugged. "The sun will chase away the darkness. It's stupid but it's from a story my grandmother used to read me. I guess it means there will be a brighter day tomorrow. And all the darkness of the previous day will fade away if you keep looking forward.. I know it's shit but it's all I got."

You nodded. "The story of the sun and the shadows.. My mother used to read it to me too. It's what I've been thinking about also.---"

The air became still as you both held in your breath. The sound of faded voices and muffled popping bounced off the walls.

A loud screech made both you and Lucy push down on your ears. Your teeth ground together as everything became louder.

Those popping noises? Gun shots..

Those voices? We're so many different tones screaming at on another. But your ears picked up on one.. The tone was foreign.. Broken English?

"You took my money and only send half shipment. I'm missing two!"

The voice began to speak in a language you didn't know.. You were so invested in the conversation that you didn't hear heavy footsteps walking down the concrete steps.

Until Lucy brought you closer to his body and hissed. His claws extracted and his back became stiff as it arched.

You nearly screamed when your eyes locked onto low lazy purple eyes. A man with gelled black and purple hair stood outside your cage. His slited eyes narrowed in on you as he began to purr.

Lucy out one arm around you and clawed with the other at the cage to get him away. The man didn't move an inch, he gave you a lazy smile and chuckled under his breath.

He stared at the two of you before letting out a happy sigh and stand up straight. You saw a tattoo on his neck as he crained it back to yell up the stairs.

There was that different language again... You wished you knew what he was saying.

More footsteps echoed as they came down the stairs. One by one new figures came into the room. Another male cat made Lucy almost feral. This one had the same purple eyes as the other, only this male seemed bored and had longer hair...

Next was another male, only a dog hybrid.. His black ears blended into his hair.. His eyes were of different colors-- one completely white with a large scar slicing through it.

The next figure sent fear running through your body..

Slowly he approached the cage. The closer he got, the more you huddled yourself closer to Lucy..

A snake hybrid...

He had long white hair that reached his shoulders. He had the same tattoo as the two other males, only on the shaved side of his head.

His slited black eyes looked evil as he smiled down at you and Lucy. His forked tongue flicked out to wet his lips..

He spoke to the others as he pointed at you. You didn't understand...

Lucy hissed when one of the male cats reached for the lock. It was the bored looking one with longer hair.

"What's happening?"

Lucy kicked at the cage and held onto you tighter. The other male stepped back---

Lucy let out a low growl. "They're going to take you.."

You felt sick.. wait-- how did Lucy know that? Could he understand them.

*Click.*

You both slightly jumped-- Lucy became stiff? Why-- looking behind him you gasped.

A gun was against the back of Lucy's head.-- a new male in another purple suit-- Wait! Your tail twitched when he bent down to get a look in the cage. He-- his white ears were popping out of pink pretty hair. They slightly bent as he peeked into the cage.

Another bunny! Someone who couldn't tear you apart with their teeth. Someone who wasn't a natural predator to your kind--

His nose scrunched up and he sneered at you. He looked eat you as if you were disgusting... He stood up and spoke to the others-- You understood one word! Or should you say one name? You heard the name Mikey a few times---

Lucy let out a pained whine and slumped against your body. You nearly fell forward from his dead weight. What did they do to him?! He had a  thin trail of blood coming from the side of his neck.

You could see the lazy eyed cat holding a needle!

You held onto Lucy when the bored cat began to open the cage. You tried to shake him awake but it was no use. There was no where to run-- you couldn't hide..

A burning sensation started at your neck and traveled to the end of your spine. A familiar feeling flooded your muscles, you felt so heavy as you tried to move. You Tried to shoot past between this mans legs to run! But the world became blurry and the last thing you saw was the other bunny looking down at you with amused eyes. The last thing you locked your eyes on was his smile. It stretched like it belonged to a mad man. Diamond shaped scars crinkled at the edges of said smile.

It was frightening.

Everything became dark. All sounds became muffled, except for that name. They were speaking about the same person again..

Mikey...?

...........

tag list: @yuyu12mm @acabis

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

"Sing for me"

Yae with a reader that can sing beautifully but is shy about it

characters: Yae Miko x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: This was supposed to be a request for both Yae and Yoimiya, but since I had a hopefully good idea for Yae's part I decided to go a bit overboard with hers.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Yae Miko

Impressing Yae Miko was a difficult task with not much to gain. An upcoming writer finally penning a successful book could have their work overshadowed by dozens of writings of the same genre suddenly being released by Yae’s Publishing House, a genius orator could find themselves in her crosshairs for no other reason than to give her some short lived amusement and an entertainer would somehow find their way into being used as nothing but a magnet to attract more people to the shrine.

Those were just some of the examples you've heard over the years, so when you had the fortune of accidentally singing to yourself in front of Yae, only to have her start summoning you to her office whenever she felt like it, you had expected your life to be basically over. 

Yae however, had other plans with you.

When you had taken a quick glance at Yae from across the room, only for the two of you to make eye contact after she turned her head within an instance, almost as if anticipating you trying to sneak a look, you knew your fate was signed. At this point the Guuji didn’t even have to use words to tell you to meet her in her office, a simple smile working as a much more efficient alternative. So when you finally stood in front of the door, taking one last deep breath before sliding it to the side, you swiftly slipped inside before once again closing the entrance just as quickly.

“Sing for me, little bird.”

No greetings, no pleasantries. Both of you knew why you were here, and while it was far from the first time she asked you to perform for her, you still felt as nervous as the first time around.

After the first time, you expected her to tear into your singing like a hungry wolf into its prey, taking bite after bite from your confidence until there was none left… not like there was enough there to satiate her hunger in the first place. Instead however, you found her surprisingly nice about it. And while she couldn’t stop herself from one or two sarcastic remarks, you somehow left her office feeling better than you entered it.

And so, you quickly complied with her order, not even trying to weasel your way out of it, wanting it to be done as quickly as possible.

“You surprise me every time. If you continue singing so beautifully I’ll have no choice but to put you on a stage someday”, Yae complimented you, only to let out a chuckle shortly afterwards.

Within an instance your whole body grew tense, the prospect of having to sing in front of a crowd not exactly something you looked forward to, a fact none knew better than the kitsune.

“I doubt that it would be a profitable venture”, you tried your best to make her discard that idea without revealing just how much you dreaded it, only for Yae to take a step closer towards you, smug smile on her face as she stared at you.

“Aww, you’re too humble. With a bit of promotional work from my Publishing House the whole of Inazuma would want to listen to you… maybe even our beloved Shogun?”, she continued to look you in the eyes until you eventually averted them, your cheeks beginning to tint ever so slightly red, your show of weakness doing anything but discouraging her from continuing.

“I do owe you a lot for singing so beautifully for me afterall, so what better way to show my gratitude than to help you achieve the success you deserve?”, Yae spoke up once again, lifting your chin and forcing you to look her in the eyes, robbing you of the last of your defenses.

“Tea”

At first, you spoke so quickly that she had difficulties catching what you had just said, prompting her face to change into one of slight confusion, only for words to once again shoot out of your mouth.

“A cup of tea would be enough.”

WIthin an instance, Yae’s puzzled expression got replaced with a smile. Not the one most of Inazuma had gotten to fear, but a small one, one that would have remained invisible to you if she hadn’t been so close.

“I guess that would work too.”

Impressing Yae Miko was a difficult task with not much to gain. An upcoming writer finally penning a successful book in hopes of impressing the publisher could have their work overshadowed by dozens of writings of the same genre suddenly being released by her Publishing House, a genius orator trying to rival the Guuji could find themselves in her crosshairs for no other reason than to give her some short lived amusement and an entertainer thinking of gaining a favor or two from her would somehow find their way into being used as nothing but a magnet to attract more people to the shrine.

Those were just some of the examples of people trying to use their talent to impress Yae, and yet the one leaving their mark on her was a quiet clerk from her publishing house, too shy to sing for anyone but themselves. One talented and yet so easy to fluster. One she didn’t mind keeping around for now.

Thank you very much for reading, I hope you enjoyed the fic.

if you liked it, then please consider reblogging, liking is already very much appreciated, but nothing helps this fic to reach people more than reblogs

[the-writing-mobster]

Because I constantly get hate for WDYW Chapter 49,

(I get it, it's polarizing) allow me to like,,, explain why I went with the plot point? I don't really owe anyone an explanation, and literally fuck any of my haters, they're ants, but I think my readers/people who actually like my writing would like to know the lore behind my choices.

So, context, in chapter 49, Frisk is drugged into obedience by Muffet and Muffet, being the money hungry cunt that she is, sells Frisk's body on the black market. It's a really uncomfortable concept, and when it happened it caused a lot of readers to drop the fic or rant at me in the comments, talk shit about my fic in private forums behind my back, or even imply a bunch of horrible things about me as a person lmao.

So why did I decide to go with this plot?

Well, for one, it all stems from two books: The Hunger Games, Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins and the Empress by S.J Kincaid.

In both of these books, there is a pivotal character who is drugged, manipulated and used for political gain by a dastardly authority figure. In The Empress, this plot point was ESPECIALLY devastating, because it completely changed and corrupted the character into a horrific shell of their old self to where they were actively antagonistic and irredeemable!

This plot device has intrigued and fascinated me ever since. Drugging a protagonist to make them wholly dependent on their abuser/villain, manipulating them, having them at rock bottom is, in my opinion, one of the worst things that can happen to a character... And seeing how the character can overcome it is the greatest triumph!

Ever since reading these books, this plot device has buzzed in the back of my mind and there is a part of me that always tries to recreate it, but I can never come close to perfecting it.

Either I always miss on the addiction part of the manipulation, or I can never commit truly to character corruption. Either way, the closest I've ever gotten to scratching this itch has been in WDYW part 3, but even then, I barely came close to getting it right.

My second reason for choosing the route; In WDYW, Frisk's whole arc is about having control over her own agency/autonomy/fate. What happens to her in Part 3 is the culmination of everything she's ran away from, fought against, and her greatest nightmare come to life. It was the lowest point I could bring her character, and make her face her past demons in a horrifically evil way. But my plan had obviously been that despite all of the torture she survives, that she not only survives but fucking WINS!

That was the whole point, but when I wrote it I was like,,, 17/18 😅, so there was definitely things I wasn't as graceful about.

With that said, would I change anything? Yes. If I could change anything I wrote about part 3, I would do a couple things:

1. Take out that obedience spell Muffet puts on Frisk. The reason I made that was because it was like a catch all spell to keep Frisk in Muffets clutches? But it was pretty OP and seemed like a hand wavey excuse to brush aside plot holes. I should've just simplified the spell to where she was simply tethered to Muffet's soul so Sans couldn't kill Muffet, or teleport Frisk away.

2. Frisk's "obedience" to Muffet should've been entirely addiction based, which would make the plot point of Frisk using determination to burn out her addiction in Part 4, and then eventually Determination becomes the addiction instead, (because overcoming addiction is really fucking hard actually and a constant struggle) a lot stronger.

3. I would probably be much more careful with my word choice in chapter 49. Some of it comes off as sexualization. Not my intention, but it was because I was writing in the creepy photographer's pov and he was objectifying her. In my head I was like, "surely people can read between the lines right???" (They can't. Only a select few fanfic readers have media literacy apparently)

So, TLDR, No chapter 49 was not some author's barely disguised fetish (that's honestly a really gross way to think about my writing and about me as a person) it was my genuine worst nightmare as a woman, and one of my favorite plot devices from two of my favorite books 😭 Please lay off me about chapter 49, and Part 3.

Last but not least... Some art is meant to disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed.

.

.

.

[kookienooki]

Melodies of Seduction | Ch. 3

❀ summary: With platinum albums and millions of adoring fans, Yeon-jin thought she knew exactly where her music career was headed. But when her manager drops an unexpected bombshell—BTS' golden maknae Jungkook wants to collaborate on an R&B album—her carefully planned world spins into beautiful chaos.

Between late-night recording sessions, stolen glances across the studio, and harmonies that seem to sync with more than just their voices, Yeon-jin finds herself composing a different kind of song altogether. One that could either launch her to new heights of stardom or leave her heart in free fall.

The question is: in an industry where every move is scrutinized and romance is taboo, can two of K-pop's brightest stars risk it all for a love that wasn't part of the production plan?

❀ pairing : idol!Jungkook x idol!oc

❀ genre: idol AU, romance, angst, fluff, eventual smut, im not sure what else

❀ rating: 18+

❀ word count: 782

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

Chapter 3: Creative Spark

Their first official writing session started awkwardly. Yeon-jin arrived at her studio early, meticulously arranging everything—fresh notebooks, sharpened pencils, and her favorite tea set from Jeju. The morning sun filled the space with warm light, but she still felt nervous energy coursing through her veins.

Jungkook arrived precisely on time, carrying his own notebook and a guitar case. He'd dressed down today in ripped jeans and an oversized hoodie, his hair slightly damp as if he'd just finished working out. The casual attire somehow made him more intimidating—this was Jungkook the artist, not the polished idol from their first meeting.

"I brought some ideas," he said, pulling out his phone. "Just some rough melodies I recorded last night. Couldn't sleep."

They sat at opposite ends of her grand piano, both seemingly unsure how to bridge the gap between professional courtesy and creative intimacy. Yeon-jin had collaborated with dozens of artists over her career, but this felt different. There was more at stake.

"Should we start with structure?" she suggested, falling back on her training. "Figure out what kind of sound we're aiming for?"

Jungkook nodded, but she could see the slight tension in his shoulders. They were both overthinking it, trying too hard to be perfect. The conversation felt stilted and technical. They discussed time signatures and key changes, but the spark from their first meeting seemed to have dimmed.

Then, almost unconsciously, Jungkook started humming a melody while she was talking about chord progressions. It was something haunting and beautiful that made her heart catch. Without thinking, Yeon-jin found herself harmonizing, her voice finding spaces in his melody that seemed to have been waiting for her.

His eyes widened, and he quickly reached for his phone to record. "That's it," he said excitedly. "That's the bridge we've been looking for."

The ice broken, creativity began to flow. Yeon-jin moved to her production setup, quickly laying down a basic beat while Jungkook worked out guitar parts. They traded lyrics back and forth, mixing Korean and English, finding ways to tell their story through both languages.

Hours slipped by as they worked. When hunger struck, they ordered jjajangmyeon from the place around the corner, eating cross-legged on the studio floor while discussing musical influences. Jungkook told her about learning to play guitar during BTS's early days, practicing in bathroom stalls to avoid disturbing his members. Yeon-jin shared stories about her pansori training, and how her grandmother would make her practice projecting her voice at the ocean.

"That explains so much about your breath control," Jungkook said, genuinely fascinated. "Would you teach me some techniques sometime?"

The request surprised her. "You want to learn pansori?"

"I want to learn everything," he replied with disarming honesty. "Every type of music has something to teach us, right?"

As the sun set, they had the bones of three songs and dozens of voice memos filled with ideas. Na Ra knocked on the door at midnight, concern evident on her face.

"We lost track of time," Yeon-jin explained, suddenly aware of how close she and Jungkook had moved during their last recording session, both huddled around the microphone.

As they packed up their things, their hands brushed reaching for the same notebook. The touch lasted only a second, but the electricity lingered. Yeon-jin pulled back quickly, dropping her pencil in the process. They both reached for it at the same time, laughing awkwardly.

"Keep it," Jungkook said softly. "It's got good luck now. Look what we created today."

She tucked the pencil into her bag, trying to ignore the way her fingers tingled where they had touched his. "Same time tomorrow?"

"I have dance practice in the morning, but I can be here by two?" There was something hopeful in his voice that made her heart flutter.

"Two is perfect. I'll have the haegeum player's samples by then."

Na Ra cleared her throat pointedly from the doorway, and they finally moved to leave. In the elevator, Yeon-jin caught her reflection in the mirrored walls. Her carefully styled hair had come undone, and her expensive blouse was wrinkled from hours of work, but her eyes were bright with creative energy.

"You two work well together," Na Ra observed carefully as they walked to their car.

"The music just flows naturally," Yeon-jin replied, trying to keep her voice neutral. "It's rare to find that kind of creative chemistry."

Na Ra gave her a knowing look but said nothing more. As their car pulled away, Yeon-jin saw Jungkook still standing at the building's entrance, typing something on his phone. Moments later, her phone buzzed.

"Already missing our harmony. See you tomorrow."

She smiled all the way home.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。✯¸.•'*¨'*•✿(◕‿◕)✿ •*'¨*'•.¸✯❀。• *₊°。 ❀° ❀

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying my book so far 😅

I'm trying to make these chapters longer so hopefully, this next chapter is. no promises tho.

Comment if you would like to be added to the tag list!

[luxury-nightmare]

mom says it’s my turn on the writing

tw for mentions of abuse. Nothing to graphic because I cannot write well enough to write something like that with the tact required but it’s there. I would’ve removed it but the video where I get most of my info from described Jack Walker as an “abused toy store owner” and this is what I picture

I do not condone any of the of the actions mentioned in the section and I will take this fic down if it triggers anybody. Jack is an unreliable narrator in this section and I do not believe his thought process

Section starts at “Away from her” and ends at “He moved into the office down the hall.”

Hiding a velidgun from the asylum was way easier than it should have been.

He had been sneaking Klaus into the asylum to keep an eye on him. The velidgun was young, in both lives he had lived, and believe it or not, it’s kinda hard to hire a babysitter for a pink mouse demon that feeds on your sanity.

He knew this was a stupid idea, but the asylum would get suspicious if he took too many days off, and telling Klaus to use his illusions to hide himself whenever anyone walked in was surprisingly effective. He had been trying to keep himself busy as he worked, but Klaus asked a lot of questions.

“Hey Mort?” He asked. Mortimer looked up from his desk and at the young velidgun “yes Klaus?” He said. Klaus leaned against Mortimer’s chair “why do you work here?”

Mortimer put his pencil down. “It pays well, why?” Klaus fidgeted with the pen he was holding “do you, want to work here?” He asked, disgust in his voice. Mortimer rolled his eyes “Absolutely not” he snarled.

“Then why are you here?” Klaus replied bluntly. Mortimer paused, stewing over his thoughts. “I have to, who else would hire, y’know” he gestured to his body. It had been a particularly bad day for his symptoms. The stripes were fully defined now, and his face was completely obscured by inky shadows, two yellow eyes peaking out of the blackness.

“So?” Klaus shrugged, standing up and looking at Mortimer with confusion “can’t you just use your illusions to look human like Auncle Alex does?”

“They haven’t kicked in yet.” Mortimer said.

He still didn’t know why Alex was still making themself look human. They knew what they were, what they were becoming, and they all accepted it. Why would they need to deny it?

Maybe they still hadn’t accepted it themself.

Klaus’s crestfallen face struck at something in Mortimer’s heart. “I never wanted to be here,” he started before he could stop himself “I had a show I wanted to make, got the degrees and learned how to animate. Drew for it a lot too. But it takes a lot of money to start up a show that maybe won’t make it back. I needed a steady job so I could start it up eventually, but now I’m stuck here,”

A hit of malice snuck out of his voice as he spoke those last few words. He shook himself out of it, “it’s not all bad though, I guess.” He finished, then turned to look at Klaus, who looked almost lost in thought.

“Alex said something about a ‘candy mouse’ when I was first created, that was your show wasn’t it” Mortimer blinked a couple times. He had hit the nail right on the head. “Yeah” he said, putting his hand on Klaus’s head

“You look just like him”

————————————————

Needless to say Klaus was bored.

Mortimer said that he needed quiet to work, and Klaus could understand. He didn’t like loud noises very much either.

But what Mortimer didn’t tell him was that his work hours were so long.

The hunger was back

He had been looking through some of the older papers in the back of the office, some older concept art for Candy Mouse that Mort was to sentimental to throw away. Klaus was drawn to them as well. These are technically where he was created, he shared a face with Mort’s favorite character after all.

Some drafts of older character were stored back here, and Klaus got a good look at them. An odd fusion of a snake and a bat dressed as a news reporter, a demon-like character with twisted horns, and in the very back, a green rabbit character.

Klaus quickly became fascinated with this particular draft, digging through the papers and cardboard boxes to find more drawings. He bumped into a particular box with a bit to much force, leaving a dark stain on the cardboard.

“Klaus?” He heard Mortimer’s voice from the desk. He barely noticed until the animator was right behind him. Mortimer had a pension for appearing unnoticed. Klaus jumped and knocked the box with the stain over, spilling drawings all over the floor. “Oh, careful there” Mortimer turned to clean up the mess “I was just coming over to tell you it’s time to go.” He moved the drawings into a pile, then turned to put them back in the box.

He paused, looking at the box, then back at Klaus. “Did it look, like that when you saw it?” Klaus turned back to the box.

A box now completely covered in deep, black ink.

The two watched in confusion as the ink dripped off the cardboard , revealing green patterns that resembled a Jack-in-the box.

“Honestly, I’m too tired to be worried about that right now” Mortimer sighed. Klaus was still confused, but moved closer to Mortimer “come on, let’s go home”

————————————————

Jack had been here since the Halloween incident. He had been offered a janitorial position in the asylum, and with Grimso’s not doing so well after the break-in, he had taken it. The shifts were long, but any excuse he had not to be at home, he would take.

Away from her.

He shudders. Dear lord he needed to man up. A couple mean words wouldn’t kill him.

His check still burned from the times she had slapped him

He moved into the office down the hall. This one belonged that animator guys he believed, Mortimer Gray. He was not looking forward to this.

He opened the door and sure enough, the place looked like a tornado had run through it. Papers and pencils were strewn across every surface. He sighed, and grabbed his broom. This was going to be a long night.

As he turned the corner though, something caught his eye. A box. He turned to get a better look at the thing, accidentally dropping his broom as if in a trace. The thing remained him of an old school Jack-in-the-box, with elaborate designs and twisting green patterns covering every surface. It almost gave him a headache to look at.

Why would an animator need this? Better yet, why would the asylum even give it to him? Was it a personal belonging? He had found weirder stuff in here before.

He couldn’t help himself, he opened the lid and looked inside.

He was greeted with a darkness so intense he swore the world look brighter when he finally managed to tear his eyes off the thing. He stepped back. Something was wrong about this thing, and he wasn’t about to find out what. He grabbed his broom and moved out of the office, planning to just come back later.

Then something grabbed his ankle.

He looked back in horror to see a goopy black tendril emerging from the box. He tried to run, but the thing dragged him towards the box’s open maw no matter how hard he squirmed. He tried to bat it off with his broom the no avail.

The box’s open lid looked more and more like a predators jaws as he was dragged closer to it. He watched in horror as his foot was dragged into the darkness.

And suddenly, the darkness was looking back with yellow eyes.

His screams blended in with the patients.

————————————————

Mortimer walked into his office, tired from the night before. Alex had volunteered to look after Klaus, and he just needed to work.

So when he found a new velidgun lounging on his desk, emerging from the box from last night like a Jack-in-the-box from hell, he was both shocked, confused, and incredibly frustrated.

Dear Six Lord he had made another one.