#and while things you brought up are red flags some of them have nothing to do with disability | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamesamu · 5 months ago

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THE THINGS HE TAKES FOR GRANTED

in which he takes a moment to justify himself after never noticing your little crush for him

starring. akaashi keiji x fem!reader

genre(s): angst to fluff, (super, like-) long scenario

warning(s): none, i think so? except for clueless keiji and not proof-reading

author’s note: akaashi is just a major green flag in this (every haikyu!! boy is 😭) i feel too bad to write them red-flag-y.

choose your character: m. atsumu | k. akaashi

you’ve known akaashi for quite some time, starting from your last year of fukurodani academy and then serendipity brought you both ended up being each other’s classmate at a same college/university. bokuto kotaro was your best friend, the little owl introduced his favorite setter to you and the friendship of three gradually become established, and as if it can not be any more inevitably, you eventually developed a secret admiration for the pretty setter when you three have been closed enough. however, graduating separated ways, kotaro pursued his journey to become professional in volleyball while keiji, once said to you he wanted a place in the literature department.

truth be told, even if you promised each other you would still keep in touch and plan every weekend friend group meeting online or offline, you’ve never expect you would share every class in higher education life with your crush, the akaashi keiji. the great thing is you both are paired up for an presentation assignment in the major you and him pursue, you do have plenty of time to stay close and grab his attention from making gestures that he usually failed to realizes.

here you are again, happily humming your favourite song while carrying a box wrapped with a small detailed towel, some big rolls of assignment paper stuck underneath your arm as you make your way back to where you both planned to finish the project - the library.

“keiji, i’m back!” you set your things respectively on the table, and akaashi nods with a smile on his face in acknowledgement.

“oookay, so here’s your today’s snack, I hope you’ll like it” you grin, tapping on the box before pushing it to his side as he receives it and casually opens it while speaking.

“hmm? are those sketches of our poster? you can always edit them on the computer, why the effort?” he chuckled softly before completely unwrapping the bento box.

“I’m not good at designing and stuff. I may draw as I like and you’ll be the one to edit it on the computer.” you puff your cheek out, hands resting on hips as you watch his reaction to your delicately decorated sweets in the box made for him.

“this looks amazing.” he smiles upon seeing the pastries you made, decorated beautifully with different kinds of fruit as each pastry has different flavours, you probably did not stay up so late last night just to make all kinds of flavours for him to show how much you like him. yeah, probably not.

"oh, it's nothing, I just hope it doesn't taste bad" you chuckle nervously while scratching the back of your neck, letting his praise send you up to cloud nine.

your actions falter when you see akaashi put back the box's cap on, set it aside as he leans over to reach the posters you drew.

"now then, can we start working on the project?" he spreads out the piece of paper, glancing at you as you stand there awkwardly, prefer him taking a bite to look through all of your efforts than just shrugging it off and go straight to the main part of your study session.

"what...? oh- um..." you trail off, a bit embarrassed. "wouldn't you like to try one out? it won't hurt to just have a taste of it..."

"maybe later, y/n. we have other things need to be done right now." he merely states, eyes study the poster in front of him, unknowingly sinking your heart.

"yes, right." you shift slightly, taking the sit by the opposite of him, trying to catch up with him on the progress.

you let your mind wanders off how many times you've lost count already while akaashi quietly focused on scribbling something in his notebook, every thoughts you have are always about keiji, your feelings and the stare you give him thinking it's discreet. what's stopping him from trying my tarts out? and how does he feel being around me? or is that his way of rejecting something without making that person feel bad? flooded your mind.

"y/n?" you realize his faint voice ringing somewhere "y/n..." the voice becomes clearer. "earth to y/n, you're staring." awh, snap. right.

you blink, startled before clearing your throat, mumbling a small apology as you try to get yourself busy with the work underneath you once again.

but akaashi just chuckles, his voice calm and reassuring.

"hey, you seem off today. it's lunch break, please make yourself comfortable." you fumble at his words, it's noon already? as he collects his books and tidy it up at one corner of the table before speaking again.

"yuri satsuki is inviting me to have lunch with her. would you like to also join? i think she wouldn't mind." he kindly offers, probably not knowing the words struck you shocked.

you know satsuki-senpai, she's a year older than you and has been a social butterfly ever since you set foot in student life. she is a nice person, you conceived, but not until you found out that she has a huge crush on your akaashi keiji, her behaviour in your eyes became somewhat annoying. in return, she did realize she had a rival to win over him, you acknowledge that through the smug look she gave every time akaashi was around her instead of you, that is how the tension gradually builds up between you and your pain-in-the-ass rival.

and now she's even invited keiji for lunch? you feel an uncomfortable twist in your belly, screaming that if you do not take further actions, you lose akaashi to her. but his way of discarding your hard work, also known as an attempt to get his attention earlier discourages you hastily. this comes to a realization: ever since he start hanging out with satsuki-senpai, he has never touched one of your cooks once.

"no, i'm fine staying here. you go" you force a smile waving him goodbye. he hesitates upon seeing the downward trend of your mood as well as the strange attitude every time he brings up yuri.

"what are you waiting for?" you scoff, trying your best to make it sound not so bitterly. he nods quietly before ruffles your hair, thoughtfully remind you to get something to eat before start working again, and he'll be back with you soon.

you groan for the nth time in thirty minutes since his last leave, deciding not to eat anything at all after you laugh bitterly to yourself seeing the bento box laid cold by his stuffs which corrects your thoughts that he is not going to appreciate what you did for him.

the chair scraped the floor when you stand up, attempting to compose yourself when you feel your brain need a break from overthinking such situations.

on the way out of the library, your eyes meet yuri satsuki's, assuming that keiji is just somewhere around here as his lunch break partner is the person you least excited to bump into.

"well, well. isn't that the girl whose best friend choose to hang out with me instead of her?"

excuse me?

"don't get too ahead of yourself, satsuki-senpai. just a friendly reminder" your tone evidently irritated as you flash her an unamused smile, trying to avoid her as soon as possible.

but the radio scene of her voice replayed all over your head, your mind goes muddy despite the fresh air you're trying to take in, you let out a shaky breath, tears brimming out.

maybe, he doesn't quite noticed the things I did for him after all...

---

"you're back. where were you?" akaashi worried tone surprises you after a quite fine time of trying to find you because your study desk in the library was empty.

"i was... out for fresh air. why?" your voice is off and he noticed that. he always knew when something is bothering you, and right now he definitely know that something is wrong.

"after i finished my lunch i got yours, 'cause i know when i'm back you would still hadn't eaten anything." his brows slightly furrow seeing your avoiding attitude.

"thanks, keiji." you said briefly, take the package from his hand and sit down on your seat, never forget to notice the pastry box still intact.

your strange attitude didn't just stop there, it confuses akaashi for a more couple of days of your avoidance, he dislike the way you put a small distance between you both in study sessions, you flinch and tense around him more often, your answers and conversations are brief and sometimes awkward as you seem to be more preoccupied and attentive rather than to communicate with him.

"good morning, y/n." he smiles, your state has been bothering him for days as he is paying attention to your fade grin and a small "hey" as a greet back.

then he fumbles. something is missing...

oh. but then, realization sets in him quite quickly: you didn't bring any homemade sweets today.

"y/n..." he hesitates, meeting your eyes as you lift your head up from the notebook you're scribbling on. "does your home perhaps... out of ingredients or something?"

you are stunned for a moment, knowing exactly what he was trying to imply, scared to look at him directly in the eye as you shift your gaze elsewhere, pretending to have forgotten.

"oh... you mean the pastries... I forgot to do it. I was busy yesterday"

lies. he see through it, you know that, but you can't just blurt it all out that you're heartbreaking because of his indirect rejection that never says he doesn't like you, but makes you feel like it did.

"hey... i know something is wrong, can you tell me what it is?"

there it is - the worried look on such handsome face that never fails to make your heart flutter. but you know, that is just his nature of being an attentive and thoughtful person, not just for only you, but for everyone in his orbit.

so his question remained unanswered.

akaashi has been extremely distracted due to the sudden lack of your affection on him. it's just doesn't feel the same. even if he refuses it but deep down, he misses your midday snacks, your bubbly laugh around him and that flushed cheeks you wear every time he caught you staring. it has been a whole week since, and the fact that you didn't join the friend group video call with bokuto last sunday was his last straw.

he misses you, dearly. and if he doesn't do anything now before your project is finished, he might find it difficult to approach you even when you are his best friend.

and then, on an another lovely morning in the college's campus, an emotion he thinks he's aware of stirring in his stomach at the scene of you handing out a bento box wrapped with the same detailed towel, a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips as the other boy laughs lightly, scratches his neck, sending regards with a polite bow before making his way back in the classroom, akaashi doesn't like what his eyes have witnessed, so when he met yours, the bitterful look sends shivers down your spine.

you turn away, begin to walk, you do not want to deal with your bothered heart right now, not if it has anything to do with him, with that thought, you choose to neglect it because it is just your one-sided feelings for him.

but you hear footsteps behind, next is a small "wait" escaped from his lips when he managed to catch up and hold gently on your arm. that stopped you midtrack.

"please. can we talk?" he pleads.

---

you find yourself trapped by his presence in a corner of the school's library. there's no point in avoiding now.

"i'm sorry." he states. "i like you, i should've known."

your eyes widen. why- all of a sudden?

akaashi glances at you, softly sighs before bring your hand up to his face and kiss your knuckles gently.

"i understand now, i was clueless, you have the very right to be mad at me." each sentences he speaks crack your heart, but at the same time, they give you hope.

you neither know how to react, nor what to say, you just stand there, completely speechless, it encourages him to continue his speech of pursuing you.

"the last time i went to have lunch with satsuki, she confessed to me." he stopped, watching your expression. "but i turned her down, then, she got angry and started to brag about you. i did not like what she said, so i got quite defensive and... that was when i realised."

"i didn't know when it started. i just knew that i didn't feel very comfortable seeing you bringing your pastries that was meant for me to someone else, and more it's because i didn't appreciate it."

he squeezes your hand, afraid if not, you'll slip from his grip and become somebody else's apple. he certainly dislikes the thought.

"i want your pastries back, i love them as much as i love you. please let me correct such a terrible mistake."

---

"yes, hello. i've received the box, thank you, my love."

akaashi spins his office chair slightly, softly speaking to the phone stuck between his cheek and shoulder with a smile while unwrapping a huge warm box of freshly baked tarts.

"keiji, bad news, i'm out of powdered sugar after that batch." your voice echoed on output, he chuckles.

"are you free after work? we can visit the supermarket to purchase some. i'll drive, consider this a date with me, 'mkay?"

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wttcsms · 1 year ago

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when you know, you know, atsumu miya ;

pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 1k synopsis atsumu considers marriage to be a trap, until he realizes that even a lifetime commitment to you isn't long enough content contains fluff, talks of marriage!!!! he's a softie

It starts off like this: nobody sees Atsumu Miya getting married — not now, not ever, not in the foreseeable future, nor in any of the millions of alternate and parallel universes that may or may not exist.

You’re just not the type of person we see settling down.

Yeah, that might be true, but it still stings a little. It stings when he sees the white picket fences, and the cars with the MY KID’S AN HONOR STUDENT bumper stickers. It stings when he happens to accidentally catch a rerun of those family-centered sitcoms; the ones where they argue during the day and make up at night, with some cliche moral to the over dramatic situations that have occurred onscreen fifteen minutes ago. It stings when he watches his teammates get engaged and he has to congratulate them — he’s genuinely happy for them, don’t get him wrong — but still…

It doesn’t matter. Atsumu Miya has long since held the firm belief that he’s just not the type of person the whole “fall in love, get married, have a family, cue the domesticity cuteness overload” schtick is meant for. Besides, it’s not like it’s something he’s spent years obsessing over (maybe months, at most).

He rationalizes his bachelor status (that’s been a part of him for so long that it’s getting to become somewhat of a red flag for potential girlfriends) as him being the only one left with his priorities straight. After all, he doesn't have to worry about things like parent-teacher conferences or crayon drawings on the wall or trying to buy flowers to make sure the wife isn’t too mad when he comes home late.

After all, he tells everyone, settling down is still settling.

And Atsumu Miya, under no circumstances, ever settles.

Which is an ideal he clings to with such a tight grip, if it were flesh and blood, it would be suffocating. He doesn’t, he decides after a while, believe in marriage.

(That is to say: he doesn’t believe that it’s possible for him.

It’s not what he says explicitly, but it’s what he truly means.)

So, when he tells you this on your second date, you’re a little stunned, but you’re quick to recover. Okay… So that’s the explanation you’ve been waiting for. The reason why this six feet two inches tall professional athlete with a bank account he generously withdraws money from has been single for so long is because he doesn’t believe in marriage.

Other than that, he’s been nothing but great. Near perfect. So, all you do is nod and continue on with the original topic of the conversation. Eventually, your budding romance blooms into something much bigger than either of you ever anticipated or saw coming, and while you yourself have never mentioned the M-word after that date, it’s all Atsumu can think about right now.

Marriage.

The concept of it looms over your relationship; a perpetual gray cloud that threatens to flood this perfect little relationship and have it all go down the drain. You never brought it up after he basically told you he would never marry anyone, and he never brought it up purely because — well — he’s a bit of a coward.

He’s the type of person who’s set on his own convictions, by the way. If his balls ever drop, and he decides to Man Up, he figures he’ll start the conversation just like that. His stubbornness is nothing new to you, but him figuring out that he might be wrong makes his stomach feel funny. It’s sick and twisted.

“Hey, what do you want for dinner tonight? I’m at the store right now, and I’m in the mood to cook.” He can picture it clearly: you, standing in one of the grocery store aisles, phone balanced in between your ear and shoulder as you compare the ingredients of the name brand and generic cereal.

He’s in the locker room, about to pack up his gym bag (that you’ll complain reeks) and head back to his apartment (that’s starting to feel a lot more like yours, with the way your skincare products dominate the bathroom counter), and it hits him so suddenly, he has to sit back down on the bench.

Atsumu Miya thinks that marriage isn’t for him, and as a defense mechanism, he decides that marriage sucks anyway. But through the tinny speakers of his phone, he can hear you toss something in the shopping cart. He hears the faint crying of a toddler in the background, and then he starts to think about what it would be like to walk around the store with a baby that takes after you. Right now, you’re already sleeping in the same bed with him at least four times out of the week, but it would be perfect, he thinks, to get the privilege to wake up to you every morning.

“Atsumu?” You try to get his attention, and Atsumu tries to ignore the warm and fuzzy feeling he gets when he considers a future with you. Settling down is still settling, he tells himself, and then he thinks of the way you looked when you caught the bouquet at a friend’s wedding. The pleased smile on your face, the triumphant way you held the flowers over your head, head thrown back in glee; you looked absolutely radiant. You caught his eye, and you quickly lowered your hands, giving him a sheepish grin.

He realizes now that if anyone is settling, it’s you. You don’t know that he notices the way you tear up at weddings, or how excited you sound when you get back from dress shopping with one of your friends. You want to get married, and the only thing stopping you is him.

He’s spent ages deluding himself into thinking that he’s somehow losing if he decides to trap himself into a marriage with someone, but no one can accuse him of settling when it’s you he’s marrying. You’re the prize. You’re the only person in the world he wants to give his last name and an obnoxiously big ring to.

“Make whatever you want, baby. I’ll eat anything.” He’s checking the locations for the nearest jewelers in his immediate vicinity. “I might be a little late, though. I have to check on something.”

#atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya x you #atsumu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #drabble #one shot #fluff #hq imagines #atsumu fluff

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shiny-jr · 1 year ago

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from IGNIHYDE

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.

- Characters: Idia Shroud, Ortho Shroud.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: This seems a little more low-key than Diasomnia, but the obsession is there if you squint. It’s just way more low-key than the previous group. For some reason I feel like I maybe wrote Ortho a little off? Not sure. Feel free to tell me your thoughts.

Diasomnia | Ignihyde | Pomefiore

The break ends quickly. Too quickly. Before you know it, you’re back in front of the mountain of unread letters that appears even more ominous than before now that you could guess what sort of dark contents they may hold.

For your own peace of mind, you’ve decided to read only two and then take a pause right after.

The first of which was just a simple long white envelope. That’s it. There was nothing that stood out about it, no special seal or stamp. It was just the generic type of encasing that made it look like it was some sort of bill instead of a letter containing what was bound to be a message that unsettled you in some way, shape, or form.

When you removed the letter, you was surprised to see that it wasn’t handwritten, it had been typed and printed out. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who this was from.

Player,

I messed everything up.

I don’t even see a point to doing this, writing this for you. I mean, if I were you, I’d never want to see my no-good miserable face ever again. I’d go to every length just to avoid even speaking to me again, and to spite them I’d never even show myself around again. But–– Ortho was making a letter and brought my keyboard to my lap. He said it was worth a shot, and if anything, it could be used as an apology so... sorry.

Any sorry would sound half-assed, considering what happened. It’s not like it matters, since I’m sure you wouldn’t read this. I imagine you would figure out it’s from me, and proceed to tear it up, burn it, whatever. And honestly? Valid. At this point, I’m sort of using it as a vent. Usually, I’d be telling Ortho all this, but all these thoughts I’m having would only bum him out and he’s depressed enough as it is.

You know what sucks besides all of this? The fact that I genuinely tried. I actually tried to be a help for once, and like it always ends, my attempt to help screwed it up even more. Maybe if I had kept my mouth shut and minded my own business while holing myself up in my room like I always do, things wouldn’t have turned out this bad. If I just did what I was good at, which is nothing, Ortho and I might’ve avoided the shitstorm. Everyone else is currently throwing pity parties and plotting these super over elaborate schemes to try and interact with you by luring you out of the Ramshackle place.

Ortho’s been coming up with plans too with other guys from the dorms that are just so desperate for your attention. It’s sad to watch, pathetic too, but I don’t have the heart to tell him not to bother with it. And me, I know better. If I were in your position and I saw all these attempts, it would definitely make me extra bitter and just hate everyone even more. Oh, I just remembered something worth mentioning. You may not believe me, I mean, I wouldn’t believe a single word coming from me, but I wasn’t actually going to hurt Grim. You though? Before I knew who you were? Yeah. Don’t get it twisted though, I was just doing it to fix everything until the whole truth got leaked not too long after.

Call me stupid, I guess. When I first saw how others revered you like how a bunch of creepy basement-dwellers look at a pretty perfect idol on a shiny bright stage, it was a major red flag. I wanted nothing to do with you. But when you started worming yourself into my life and I started getting attached, well, that made me a creep too for liking you. Red flags be damned. What can I say? Your presence even through Yuu, made me feel like I mattered, which is something I don’t experience a lot.

You’d never know it, but I took risks just to be in the same room as your avatar.

Missing special events on games, losing the chance to catch a concert live on screen, even ditching group calls with teammates and friends... All of that was utterly worthless if I got at least a solid sixty seconds by you.

Unlike everyone else, I know better than to just show up at your doorstep and beg for forgiveness like some misguided puppy. Malleus and co. have been making sure you’re not disturbed, guarding you like a pack of guard dogs or something, preventing anyone from embarrassing themselves and messing up any further. Ortho said I should at least try to call you, I think he just wants to hear your voice. But why bother?

Don’t get it wrong, I’m not just letting everything go just like that. As much as I’d like to, and I know it’s probably the “healthy” and “good” thing to do, I don’t want to. I’m not good, you know that already. I’ll keep in the background this time, and try not to mess up again. Although no guarantees, because with my lousy luck, I know something will inevitably go wrong. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you. I wouldn’t want to make the mental image you have of me in your mind even worse, if its even remotely possible for it to somehow get worse. I just can’t let go. Even if you looked at me like trash, avoided me like the plague, or straight up tell me ‘I hate you’ to my face, I still won’t let go.

And, well, all I can really think of right now besides you, is Ortho. Even if I can’t show my disgraced presence to you anymore, I still hope you’ll see Ortho. At least if Ortho could explain to you that he was acting on my plan, he might get lucky and be next to you again. Maybe. Hard maybe.

But me? No, I don’t ever deserve to be anywhere near you anymore. For now, I’ll go back to how things were way back... when your vessel hadn’t yet had the misfortune of meeting me and I just watched your every move from monitors like some sort of loser schmuck.

I think I’ll just imagine how things would be if I hadn’t doomed all my chances. If I had a chance... maybe I would’ve actually worked up the gall to sit next to you, or even look at you, or, hell, talk to you. At least, I’ll always remember when you used your avatar to look at me and it didn’t feel bad... like, almost like you didn’t see me as some lame nobody. That must’ve been my mind just playing tricks on me though, right? There’s no way that happened...

Enough of this mushy stuff though. I’m sick of it.

Just throw this in the fire without a second glance.

Idia Shroud

In order to get this over as quickly as possible, you decided to continue without taking a breather. The quicker you finished reading them, the better, that way, you wouldn’t even give your mind any time to fully process what you were reading before overwhelming your vision with more lines and lines of words until they became blurred together.

You wouldn’t stop, because if you stopped, that would be allowing your mind the opportunity to spiral out of control. You needed a distraction.

This wasn’t exactly the good type of distraction either, it was more like adding gasoline to the fire, but part of you had to know what they would say. No matter what feelings you held, the curiosity outweighed it.

The second letter is identical to the first, a simple long white envelope with no particularly interesting details about it other than the fact that it had zero stains and no wrinkles on it. It was pristine and clean, not even a drop of ink on it. The insides of the envelope itself were blue, with small white lines on it, but upon closer inspection it became obvious that they weren’t just stripes, they were skull symbols so tiny that it was hardly noticeable.

Of course, as you expected, the letter inside was not handwritten. It was folded so precisely into thirds, and unfolding it displayed the typed and printed words neatly stacked in indented paragraphs.

Greetings, Player,

First, I want to apologize sincerely.

Secondly, I want to tell you how much I have missed you, and my brother has missed you as well! I don’t believe I can fully comprehend how you are felling at the current moment, and I cannot even accurately guess to what emotions you are experiencing. In my attempt to alleviate the situation, I’ve been running millions of simulations of possible alternative futures in order to take the best route where things might return to a semblance of normalcy.

Well, a new normal, now that you’re here! However... when each simulation yields a result, I can’t help but feel as if something is wrong. That’s when I realized there was a key component that was off. It was you, or rather, Yuu. We know of Yuu and their mannerisms and opinions, but that isn’t really you. Yuu is a vessel, and extension, that’s partially based off yourself.

So none of us know the true you. At least, not yet! I’m hoping to change that. Just when I think I’m beginning to understand you, things like this happen. But, that’s what makes you so exciting! There’s always some unforeseen detail and amazing new aspect of yourself to learn about. Once I get a proper grasp on what you’re truly like, I can use that new knowledge to make you happy, just as you made me and my brother always smile! But also, I want to use it to make it up to you. Honestly, I’m scared that you’ll hate me. In the simulations I ran that gave inaccurate results due to those missing components, nearly all the results had a bad ending...

I don’t want that. I want to have a ‘normal’ way with you and Idia! A good normal! Like where we might all have movie nights in the Ignihyde dorm with freshly popped popcorn and candies as snacks, or study days when we read over notes and help each other out, maybe you might even be able to convince Idia to leave his room so we can all share lunch in the cafeteria like a group of friends would typically do! That’s what I want! I don’t think I could stand knowing I made you cry or was the cause of your pain. I never hurt you, right? At least not physically.

Believe me, I had made attempts to meet you. But those in Diasomnia won’t allow it. I was tempted to charge up the technomantic beam installed within my form, but realizing it wasn’t necessary, I didn’t. Idia was right when he didn’t make an effort to even join me, and Malleus Draconia with his own have realized it too. You aren’t ready yet. Even if I’m more than prepared to see you, I can’t rush you. So, I left this letter in their hands, hoping it reached you. If not, there’s no worries. I’ve prepared a dozen more printed copies and if that fails, I’ve created a digital copy!

Since I couldn’t tell you in person, I’ll tell you through paper...

I’d like to invite you to formally meet me. I’m even prepared to surprise Idia with this! That’ll cheer him up for sure. You always made him happy, so us properly meeting you would be a dream come true for us both!

If you’d like to do something upon meeting us, I’ve organized multiple activities for us to participate in. The other first years have reached out and expressed their own desires to make up for the mistakes they made. So, I met with them a few days ago to make plans you might enjoy! These plans are still in the preparation phase, so I can’t reveal them quite yet, but soon I will!

Anyways, I just wanted to make you aware of this. And I want to say ‘I’m sorry’ even though it feels minuscule to what I’m only guessing must be the strong emotions you feel toward what occurred. But I wanted to let you know that I always want to be your friend, and I always will be, even if you don’t really like me anymore. Friends are supposed to be there for each other, right? So I’ll be there for you now. Remember, I’m a high-tech being, I can be of great use to you if you want! Even if you’d rather just use me as a tool, I would be happy. If you want someone obliterated to ashes or are just looking to answers as to what the weather might be, I would gladly help you with that and so much more!

And it’s not only me that could be useful to you, my brother can too! Although he probably won’t say it, he depends on you a lot. You’re like a battery to him, you give him the energy he needs. If you’d let him, let us both, we’d be there for you in a zeptosecond!

There’s one thing I know for certain. You’re the common variable needed for our happiness, no matter the scenario or result, you are a requirement. And I’m certain we can bring you happiness as well. Myself, my brother, and everyone that treasures you, can bring you joy if you allow it. All I want is to see you happy, and everyone else happy as well. So will you please at least consider seeing us again? Soon? Please?

Hoping to see you soon.

From your friend,

Ortho Shroud

#twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst #twst imposter au #I didn't ask to get isekaied #we just got a letter wonder who it’s from #idia shroud #yandere idia shroud #twst idia #ortho shroud #twst ortho #yandere ortho shroud #ignihyde

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phoward89 · 9 months ago

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Masterlist

Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. That man is a walking blood red flag waving heavily in the wind! engagement (not reader), smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker!Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC. DarkCoriolanus, Jealous!Coriolanus

Chapter 2:

While Coriolanus is in his office, high up on the top floor of the Citadel, raging and having an internal meltdown about your relationship, you’re walking down a crowded downtown sidewalk, hand in hand with Odysseus. The two of you were heading to a cafe near the office for lunch.

“I'll cook you dinner tonight. How does that sound for a third date?” The bronze-haired man offered, his smile full of sunshine and dimples. Odysseus' smile was contagious: you couldn't help, but to smile widely back at him.

“Last time I had a man cook for me I was 18.” You honestly admitted as a fleeting memory of Coriolanus, all skin and bones, stirring a pot of cabbage popped into your mind.

“I know that it's rude to ask a woman her age, but I must know, how old are you?”

“I’m not offended, Odysseus.” You assured him before revealing your age. “I'm 24, by the way.”

Leaning in, as if he was going to tell you a big secret, he smiled- large and scandalously, and revealed, “I'm 28.” Bumping your shoulder lightly with his, Odysseus teasingly chuckled, “Guess it's time for me to bust out the wheelchair since I'm the Old Man of the Sea in this relationship and you're the youthful mermaid.”

You let out a laugh, a genuine laugh, at your boyfriend's words. You've only known him for a day, but so far he's proven to be nothing, but respectful and kind. He's unlike anyone you've ever met before.

Odysseus was very bubbly and it was refreshing. After being with someone so cold and calloused for so long, being with a warm soul was like a breath of fresh air.

“I don't know much about such things. Is it something common to District 4?”

Odysseus nodded, only to say. “The Old Man of the Sea is the water god, Triton.” instead of leaving it there, he decided to explain the legend of the sea god to you. “He's very wise and it's said that if you can manage to capture him and hold on as he changes into many forms that he can answer any questions that you have, about anything at all.”

“Had anyone ever caught him?” You curiously asked as the cafe came into view.

“Some claim to have caught him, no one really pays them any mind, now do they?” He chuckled.

Odysseus' smile brightly widened as he animatedly explained the lore of mermaids to you, “And a mermaid, according to folklore, is a mythological water spirit that's the most beautiful siren of a woman on the top half, while having a fish tail instead of legs for the bottom half.” Coming to a stop at the cafe, he held the door open for you while continuing his sea creature lecture with, “They can both wreak havoc by causing shipwrecks and can be benevolent by granting boons; some even forgo their own mermen and fall in love with human men.”

Guiding you to one of the bistro tables (since the cafe was on of those seat yourself and someone will be with you in a moment type places), he told you with a faraway look in his sea-green eyes. “My Pops says that my Ma was so beautiful that he's positive that she was a mermaid who struck a deal to gain human form.”

From the way his voice slightly quaked while mentioning his mother, you knew that she was most likely dead. How did you know? Because Coriolanus’ voice did the same thing if and when he ever mentioned his late mother (which was rare and far in-between).

“How old were you when she passed, if you don't mind me asking?” You tentatively asked, knowing that it might be a touchy subject, while taking your.seat at a windowside Odysseus brought you to.

“I don't mind you asking, honey.” The bronze haired man assured you, taking his seat across from you at the table. Grabbing the menus from the display rack on the edge table, near the window, and handing one over to you, he simply said, “I was about 9.” Opening his menu, he sadly explained, “There was a hurricane in 4 that completely flattened the beach side community her family's house was at. Even tho she was a strong swimmer, she drowned.” Staring a hole into his menu, he bitterly spat, “President Ravinstill refused to send help or aid, or to even evacuate that part of District 4 because Panem was in the early days of the war.”

“You and Poseidon were here, in the Capitol, while she was trapped in 4.” You concluded while scanning your own menu.

“Yes, that's how I ended up living a privileged life in Capitol City while my mother and her family’s beach house was swept off of its foundation; lost to the depths of Davy Jones' locker.”

“My father was an officer in 12 during the war. His commander helped him smuggle my mother, older brother, and me here, to the Capitol, during the Dark Days.”

“He was found swinging in the trees outside of 12 with General Snow, wasn't he?”

“Yea.” You nodded, only to change the subject by announcing what you thought looked appetizing on the menu.

Coriolanus was barely holding it together whenever he walked into his penthouse. As he went to hang up his coat and place his leather briefcase on the side table by the coat rack, he felt his Grandma'am’s eyes on him.

Her stare was scrutinizing, making him feel as if he was a little boy again- getting scolded. He hates that feeling. The feeling of not being perfect, of failing. He strives to be the best, at everything he does, so Grandma'am staring him down with thoughts of shame unnerved him.

Grandma'am didn't have to say it, he just knew that she was disappointed in him. But why? He's successful as the Head Gamemaker, he's going to announce his run for Senate, and he's engaged to be married to a young lady from a very prestigious banking family. He's well on his way to success.

On his way to becoming the President of Panem in a few years time. Something that Grandma'am has always wanted for Coriolanus. Shouldn't she be proud of him, not staring him down with shame?

“How have I disappointed you, Grandma’am?” Coriolanus asked the old woman, keeping his voice cold and even, as he shrugged out of his favorite maroon trench coat; hanging it up on the corner rack after placing his briefcase on the nearby sphere shaped side table. Made out of mahogany, of course. Only the best for the Snow family.

Which is why you feel like you're not a fixture in the penthouse anymore. You're not good enough to be a part of the Snow family; to be with Coriolanus. There's something better out there for him, but you've come to accept it and move on.

Coriolanus hasn't moved on, but he won't allow himself to admit that he's fucking up his life by listening to Strabo Plinth when it came to the affairs of his heart. Oh, yes, that's right, the platinum blonde man turned into a cold creature that destroyed his own heart; refuses to acknowledge love. All he knows now is hate, indifference, and lust.

Truthfully, he's in denial when it comes to you and his feelings. He just chalks it up to being possessive and lustful over you, but honestly it's love. A dark, twisted take on love since he's a broken man and doesn't know how to love, but it's love none the less that he feels for you.

“Your father would be ashamed of you, Coriolanus. I know that I am; so is your cousin, Tigris.” The white haired woman, dressed in all her fineries, told her grandson. “Most of all, your mother would be heartbroken knowing that her son turned his back on the love of his life.”

Grandma'am’s words cut Coriolanus deep as he walked over to the sitting area in the main room. Her words cut so deep, it felt like a long double edged sword piercing through the spot where his black, cold, dead heart is locked up in his chest.

His jaw clenched painfully as he stormed gracefully, thanks to his long legs, over to the open sitting chair across from his Grandma’am. He felt his soul bleeding in his chest as he sat down. The old Snow family matriarch’s words burned Coriolanus worse than if he bathed in gasoline and lit himself on fire with a match.

But Coriolanus Snow’s a very proud man; he won't admit that Grandma'am's words hurt him. That they rang true; made his conscious berate him. Made him feel a pang of self loathing and guilt.

No…

Coriolanus will act like he didn't do anything wrong, even tho he did.

“I didn't turn my back on the love of my life because I don't have one.” Coriolanus denied in a flat out lie.

Lie, lie, lie!

You're the love of his life and he knows it, but he's just too goddamn afraid to admit it. So fucking scared of being hurt, used, manipulated, and weakened by love. He’d rather deny his feelings for you then face them.

Coriolanus can face anything headon, except for his feelings. The man didn't do feelings. And that was such a shame, because he truly did love you.

Too bad he was too focused on his political ambitions; couldn't see how much you loved him and vice versa.

Grandma'am blanched at Coriolanus’ words. Those words hurt her deeply. She loves you, as if you were one of her own, and knew how large of a role you played in her grandson's life. And to hear Coriolanus write the love you too share so easily, as if it was nothing, made her wonder where she went wrong with him? Tigress turned out fine, so why was Coriolanus so…so cold and dead towards the girl that he's loved his entire life?

Watching Coriolanus as he reached forward to grab a piece of candy from the large 3-tier candy dish set in the middle of the glass coffee table, Grandma'am sadly wondered, “I didn't raise you to be like this, Coriolanus. How can you be so cold when it comes to Y/N, your sweetheart?”

“She was never my sweetheart, Grandma'am.” Coriolanus retorted coldly. The frostiness in his baritone even sent a chill down his own spine, but it was too late to take it back now. The glacial sharp sentence was now in the universe, floating around; sure to manifest and take hold.

The remark and the attitude that accompanied it would surely come back to bite Coriolanus in the ass; to haunt him. There's no way on earth, in heaven, or in hell those cruel and icy words won't find their way back to you. Because they will…

“I see.” Was Grandma’am’s clipped response. Those two words held so much sadness and disappointment in them. The old woman's wrinkled face turned sour as she informed her grandson, “I just hope that she didn't ruin her life sitting around; waiting for your love. She turned down quite a few wealthy suitors, even a General’s son, as I understand from Tigress- who felt that Y/N was wasting her time on you because you've changed- turned hateful and cold.”

What? You turned down opportunity after opportunity to get out of poverty; all because of your silly notion of being in love with him? Of wanting more than what he can offer you?

You willingly choose to work for scraps, having your ideas used by your boss- to be claimed by them as theirs instead- for advertisements and marketing plots, instead of being pampered on and made a socialite by a rich man. What’s wrong with you? Were you truly foolish enough to believe that love could pay the bills; could be more than enough for you? Were you foolish enough to want the insecurity of love over the security of wealth?

Coriolanus never took you for a foolish girl, but now…well he doesn't know what to think. Why would you hold out hope for him to love you, to pick you, to give you things he's incapable of if you weren't foolish. You knew as well as he did that he has to do certain things to climb to the top, to reach his political goals, and that entering a union of love with you isn't one of those things.

“Waiting around for me to love her; to propose a marriage that would only hinder my political aspirations, makes her one of the biggest fools in Panem, Grandma'am.” Heartlessly shot out of Coriolanus’ mouth before he could think twice. He didn't even recognize his voice, but it truly was his.

“I don't know what happened to you, grandson, to make you so hateful. That girl's loved you ever since the Dark Days and you seemed to love her back, but I now see that you were just using her. Using her like that little songbird of 12 used you up years ago during the 10th Hunger Games.” Grandma’am spat at Coriolanus, causing the hardened young man to just flash her a deadly look. A look that would make most people cower in fear. But, Grandma'am Snow wasn't like most people. She did raise General Crassus Snow after all and he had some of the most hateful pale blue eyes in the Capitol.

Coriolanus' face was cold as stone, his eyes flashing with fury, as he seethed, “Don't you bring up that dead district whore to me, you old bitch. I'll take any of your other ramblings, but not talk about that songbird.”

The disrespect and loathing in her grandson’s tone worried Grandma'am. She's never seen Coriolanus in such a light, but she didn't like it.

Her grandson was nothing like his father. No, Coriolanus was worse than Crassus. Despite being a strict man that believed in totalitarian rulership, Crassus Snow was capable of love. He loved his wife dearly and unconditionally. But his son, well, it seems like Coriolanus has closed himself off to love.

And that scares Grandma'am.

“I think, since you're newly engaged, that it's time for you to find your own penthouse to live in.” The Snow matriarch told her iciscle of a grandson while watching him lean forward to grab another piece of candy from the extravagant candy dish.

Popping the piece of candy into his mouth, Coriolanus simply said, “If that's what you want, then I'll move out.” Standing up, he said, “I'll go call the Plinths' realtor, see if there's any penthouses available in one of the new Luxe buildings downtown.”

No, Coriolanus wasn't going to see if there was a penthouse available in any of the new Luxe buildings, but in your specific building. Because, by living in your building, he'll be able to give you gifts without being stopped by that troublesome doorman with high morals. He'll also be able to fix things with you, get you to see his logic and agree to come back to him. Coriolanus will be able to break you and Odysseus Odair, the Capitol’s biggest manwhore, up before you become too enthralled by him. Before he loses you to him.

Despite denying his feelings for you and calling you a foolish girl for loving him, the thought of you possibly falling in love with somebody else terrifies him. It eats away at his soul, knowing that right know you're probably thinking about the date Odysseus took you on last night.

Coriolanus is jealous that you're moving on (after a damn month!) with somebody that he views unworthy of you. And he's going to put an end to things, make you return to his side.

And the perfect way to do that is living in your building. So, hopefully, Coriolanus can purchase the penthouse in your Luxe complex.

After a long day at work, you went home and got changed into something comfortable before going across the hall to Odysseus’. You felt a bit nervous knocking on his door. Yes, he did invite you over and said he'd cook dinner for a third date, but it's been a while since you've been invited to a man's apartment. In fact, the last time you went to a man's apartment was the night that you ended things with your ex.

When the door opened, revealing Odysseus in the doorway dressed in a simple tank and shorts, you felt your mouth go dry. His tan skin was glowing, bronze hair effortlessly framing his shoulders in waves. But it was the face splitting smile, brighter than the sun, that took your breath away.

How is it that he can always flash you that smile every time he's around you? Can he truly be that happy to see you? You last saw him a few hours ago for lunch, he couldn't have missed you that much- could he?

“Come on in.” Odysseus urged you, pulling you into the apartment with an excited look on dimples face. “I got shrimp and asparagus risotto on the stove.” He told you, gently closing the door as you walked into his place; taking in the decor.

The decor was nothing like how you expected a modern, upscale apartment to look like. The walls, instead of being the standard white, cream, or light grey that's standard in the building, were different shades of blue and green. Also, you noticed how a pair of hammock-like chairs made up entirely of rope and nets hung from the ceiling. Instead of a sofa, like most people had in their apartments, Odysseus had floor cushions that were shaped to resemble a couch. The coffee table was a chunk of driftwood with glass on it, while the TV was set on a table painted various shades of blue to resemble waves. And the wall decorations of various shells really set off the beachy vibe of the apartment.

“Is this how houses are decorated in District 4?” You asked, standing in the middle of the mainroom- taking everything in.

“Yea.” Odysseus nodded. “Wait until you see the kitchen, you'll love it.” He told you, only to grab your hand and drag you into the kitchen.

The kitchen, that was decorated with mounted fish all over the walls. The beautiful white cabinets had all of their doors taken off. The back walls of the cabinets were painted teal, creating a contrast with the white shelves and frame. And the once white marble countertops were painted (Yes, he painted over marble!) seafoam green. The kitchen island stools looked to be made out of a mix of driftwood and rope, which made you wonder how sturdy they were.

“Sit down, honey. The risotto’s almost done.” Your new boyfriend beamed, guiding you to sit down on one of the stools (that you were iffy about). “You're going to love this risotto; recipe’s a simple one from 4, but it's delicious.” Odysseus told yoy, going over to the stove and stirring the contents in the pan so it wouldn't burn.

“Do you eat anything other than seafood?” You asked, hoping that he did. Honestly, you didn't eat seafood religiously, so if Odysseus did then…well…guess you'll have to deal with it.

“Fish’s healthy for you, Y/N.” The heir to the largest luxury cruiseline out of District 4 told you while taking the risotto pan off of the stove and placing it onto the countertop.

Which was bad, because without a trivet to rest on the heat from the pan can ruin the counter. Does he not give a shit about ruining his counter? Hell, Coriolanus would be having a stroke if you pulled that shit- placing a hot pan on his marble counter without using a trivet.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait a minute, wait a goddamn minute! Why the fuck are you thinking about Coriolanus, your ex, when you're about to have a nice home cooked meal with Odysseus, your current boyfriend? What the hell's wrong with you?

What? Are you going to be that girl that compares apples to oranges in bed too?

Odysseus’ warm hands skirt across your body as his mouth leaves feather soft kisses all over your skin, but it feels foreign to you. Honestly, you're not used to soft caresses and lightly peppered kisses. Of lips pressing against yours firmly, but faintly. You weren't used to a man swiping the tip of his tongue along your lower lip in a way that was both sensual and questioning all at the same time.

No.

You're used to hungry, sloppy butterfly kisses which turn into bruising bites all over your skin. You're used to cold, rough hands squeezing and grabbing at you. You're used to lips harshly clashing against yours in hungry desperate kisses. Kisses that seemed to be from a man starved and he shoved his tongue down your throat without warning. Desperate kisses that turned into opened mouth ones, complete with spit swallowing, tongue sucking, and bottom lip biting.

You're not used to softness. Instead, you're used to roughness. But perhaps you could get used to softness.

Or at least you tell yourself you'll get used to softness as you lay naked underneath Odysseus, splayed out on the floor cushions, as he languidly rolls his hips against yours. His movements are reminiscent of ocean waves crashing against the shore. His thrusts were slow, but powerful.

You felt like you're going to explode as Odysseus’ mellow movements slowly worked passion into you. Your pussy begged to be pounded, craved for his cock to bruise against the spongy spot inside of it. But instead of brute force, your cunt got gently caressed by Odysseus’ large cock (well, he had the length, but not the girth you're used too. Oh god, are you really comparing your boyfriend's cock to your ex’s cock? Yes, yes you are and you'll probably go to hell for it.) evertime he dragged it against your tight walls, only to push back into you again.

You bucked your hips, whining out, “Faster, Odysseus. Harder, please.”

Odysseus just smiled lazily, making his dimples protrude deeply in his cheeks. Bringing one of his hands up to stroke your cheek, he said, “I see you're not used to making love, honey. But, you'll get used to being worshiped like the goddess you are.”

His words were sweet and sent your heart fluttering a mile a minute. And the smoldering look he gave you as he snapped his hips just a little bit deeper, a little bit harder, for you and your head spinning.

And soon, before you knew it, your cunt’s clamping down around his cock and your nails (no longer crimson, but now a simple French manicure) are digging into his shoulder while you whimper, “Odysseus.” over and over as you cum.

Odysseus after feeling you cum around his cock, coating it in your stick juices, quickly pulled out of you. The feeling of emptiness crashed into you harder than any storm wave hitting a pier ever could as Odysseus knelt between your legs, quickly pumping his cock until he cum with your name on his lips. The feeling of his warm cum spurting out onto your belly made you twitch in surprise.

You weren't used to having hot cum shoot onto your body, you were used to being filled up with it. Was there a reason why your boyfriend didn't want to cum inside of you?

But before you could ask him, he was pushing himself to stand while announcing, “I'll get you a towel so you can clean up.”

“Okay.” You simply nodded, laying on the floor cushions while spent with white pearl like seed slowly sliding down your stomach.

After a few minutes, Odysseus came back with a towel. He gave it to you, before collecting his shorts and pulling them on. As you cleaned his cum off of your stomach, he gathered your clothes- which you thought was odd.

Coriolanus never gathered your clothes for you after fucking you. No, he used to pull you into his arms; pressing you to lay into his side, while carding his fingers thru your hair. Some times, after a particularly rough and hard fucking, he'd draw a bath for the two of you or he'd hold you in bed while telling you that you did so well; that he was proud of you for not using the safeword- only to remind you that next time if you need to use the safe word (red) that you can and he won't think any less of you.

But you're not with the platinum blonde man (who doesn't give a shit about you, who's engaged to the heir of Panem's biggest bank now) anymore, you're now with a bronze haired man who’s habits you'll just have to learn. Have to get used to.

Flopping down on the seat cushions, Odysseus handed you over your clothes. “I thought you might want to get dressed so you won't be could while we watch tv.”

“You want to watch tv?” You asked, finding it strange that he brought up tv instead of cuddling.

“Yea, there's supposed to be a fishing documentary on soon and I don't wanna miss it.”

A fishing documentary…Of course, he wants to watch something about District 4. Well, you can't fault him for that. He has a tie in a way to the district and just wants to learn all he can about it, since he resides in the Capitol.

Plus, you suppose that you can cuddle with him while watching the documentary together.

Coriolanus walked behind the realtor (a middle-aged man that Strabo Plinth had on speed dial) as he opened the door to the penthouse suite of the Luxe apartment building that you reside in. “You're in luck, Mr. Snow, that nobody's applied for this unit; that I was able to fit you in for an after hours showing as well.”

“Yes, Mr. Grand, it seems that I'm very lucky that I'm the only one inquiring about this penthouse.” Coriolanus told the realtor, a calculating line of a smile on his face, as he took in the vast space of the main room.

It was twice as big as the Corso penthouse; surely you'd be impressed by it. This was your building, even if you did live on a lower floor (where the working-poor of the Capitol were), so Coriolanus knew that you’d like his new penthouse once he convinced you to see it. And, despite just starting the tour with the realtor, it was his place.

The platinum blonde master manipulator was going to move in as soon as possible, because it was the only way to get you back. He had to get you away from that peacock Odair before you did something stupid, like let him seduce you and get knocked up. You're not allowed to get knocked up by anyone, other than Coriolanus that is.

Yes, Coriolanus feels that he's the only one that can give you children. Nobody else better put a baby in you, unless they have a death wish.

But unknown to Coriolanus, Odysseus isn't ready for children yet (He may or may not have a few baby mamas and paternity test disputes floating around that his rich daddy Poseidon’s taking care of) which is why he practiced the pull out method with you while ‘making love’ on his floor cushions.

If only Coriolanus knew…well…he'd be having a coronary.

Not about the pullout method (no, that's something he'd be thankful for cause he's the only one allowed to cum inside of you), but about you making love to Odysseus on the floor. That fact right there would make Coriolanus made enough to kill. He's already jealous that you went to dinner with Odair, but if he ever found out that you fucked him…oh boy…it'd be like a throat punch to his ego.

It'd also be a dagger through his cold, dead, black, too small heart that secretly holds love for you.

But what Coriolanus doesn’t know won't hurt him. Besides, he's engaged to Livia Cardew and should be worried about her, not you. But, no matter what, he'll always worry about you because you're the one he wants in his life- despite driving you away by entering an arranged match for money, power, and glory.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @twinkletwinklenotastar @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @shellybellysstuff @zombicupcake3

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ipso-faculty · 7 months ago

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Infinity symbols: a guide to their variations

Infinity symbols are popular in graphic design for good reason. In this post, I'm gonna describe ways to vary up the designs of infinity symbols. My goal is to educate fellow neurodivergent people on how to make infinity symbols that don't look like the Métis flag.

The neurodiversity community has been using rainbow infinity symbols since 2005. Here are neurodiversity flags from 2013, 2016, and 2019:

However, there's a problem with some of the new flag designs for a flag that is autism-specific. Here are some of the contenders:

These use a solid white infinity symbol. The solid white infinity curve is a symbol of Métis.

The Métis flag, created in 1815, has a white lemniscate on red background. Nowadays the Métis use the blue version more often. And to the right is the Métis queer pride flag:

For those unfamiliar, the Métis are one of the major Indigenous groups in what is now Canada, with most of their >600,000 population in the western and central parts of the country. The word métis means half-breed in French; lower-case m métis refers to those with mixed Indigenous and European ancestry. Capital-M Métis refers to the specific culture of métis that emerged, distinct from both Indigenous and settler cultures, and speaking hybrid languages such as Michif.

The issue of likeness has been brought up many times. While I can believe the autistic flag makers didn't know about the issue when making their designs, I know at least one of them was promptly informed of the issue and dismissed it.

The autistic community writ large has been pretty dismissive about this issue. I wonder if some of the defensiveness comes from not seeing an alternative - thinking that infinity symbol design is all or nothing.

I have some good news: it's possible to make infinity symbols that don't look Métis!

HOW INFINITY SYMBOLS VARY (PART ONE)

ASPECT A: TOPOLOGY

The first way we can categorize infinity symbols is their topology. These four varieties are most common

Topology 1: Open infinity symbol - this is the oldest style of using a figure-8 shape to represent the mathematical concept of infinity. On the left is the version Euler used.

Topology 2: Lemniscate - a closed curve. On the left is the Metis flag. The curve is one solid entity: notice how the rainbow gradient on the right fills the whole thing.

Topology 3: Infinity *loop* - imagine you take a hair tie or rubber band and twist it. One part of the infinity loop is clearly in front, with another part clearly behind it. Loops are well established for neurodiversity and I think we should stick to using these.

Notice in the left example how the pattern flips between left and right. Also compare the rainbow gradient on the right to the lemniscate rainbow gradient above it. -

Topology 4: Infinity *ribbon* - instead of a hair tie, use a ribbon. Ribbons have sides, producing an infinity loop that shows two sides.

ASPECT B: THICKNESS

Line width can vary, which also helps to convey a loop! Again, I think we should be sticking to infinity loops when it comes to autistic/ND designs.

Option 1: Constant Thickness The lemniscate on the Metis flag has a constant line width, as does this neurodiversity rainbow gradient from 2016. I think we should avoid constant thickness.

Option 2: Variable Thickness A variable thickness can help to reinforce that an infinity symbol is a loop rather than a solid lemniscate. There are a lot of ways to play with line thickness!

Many neurodiversity infinities are variable thickness and I think we should opt for this to steer clear of Metis territory.

THIS WILL BE CONTINUED IN A SECOND POST (tumblr has a limit of 30 images per post)

But just in case the second post gets lost in reblogs: I think variable thickness, combined with a loop topology, is what we should be using for neurodiversity & autism. E.g.

CONTINUED IN NEXT POST

#neurodiversity #neurodivergent pride #neurodiversity pride #neurodivergent #autism #autistic pride #autism pride #actually autistic #autistic flag #neurodiversity flag #flag design #graphic design #metis

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societyfolklore · 9 days ago

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Mess is Best

Title: Mess is Best (Prompt- baking together but neither know what you're doing) Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Kids x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky gets talked into Christmas baking with the kids and things turn to chaos while Mom naps.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: This ones just Fluff! All Fluff.. (No Beta Read)

A/N: Another entry for @the-slumberparty December daze challenge) - Day 20 just went for something a little softer this time. Domestic and cute. The house was anything but quiet that morning. The holiday season had brought with it a whirlwind of preparations- decorations were finally all up (though the boxes were yet to be returned to the attic and had just been stacked in the corner of the living room) the dining table covered in gifts and paper waiting for wrapping to be completed, and the faint hum of Christmas carols playing from the kitchen radio. The smell of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air, mingling with the faint trace of snow that had clung to Bucky’s boots when he brought in the tree earlier.

You had spent the entire morning orchestrating the chaos, directing the kids to hang ornaments (even if most ended up clustered in one spot), wrapping presents, and trying to keep the sugar-fuelled excitement from reaching a fever pitch. By the time midafternoon rolled around, your energy was spent. After some gentle but persistent nudging, Bucky finally relented, letting you retreat to the bedroom for a well-deserved nap.

Now, the house was suspiciously quiet. Too quiet.

Bucky stood in the kitchen, his arms crossed as he eyed the two culprits in matching Christmas jumpers. Laura and Jack, their faces glowing with the kind of mischief only children could muster, stood before him like tiny conspirators. Their hands were clasped in front of them, and their wide, hopeful eyes made Bucky instantly wary.

“Alright,” Bucky said slowly, narrowing his eyes. “What are you two up to?”

“Nothing bad!” Laura chirped, her voice an octave too high to be convincing.

“We just wanna make cookies,” Jack added, tugging on Bucky’s vibranium hand. His small fingers left smudges of glittery red paint from earlier craft projects. “Please, Dad? It’ll be fun!”

“You sure about this?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do we even know how to make cookies?”

Laura puffed up her chest. “How hard can it be? We have the box mix!” She held up the box like it was a sacred text, her enthusiasm unwavering. Bucky’s eyes flicked to the counter, the bowl sat waiting, surrounded by a chaotic assortment of sprinkles, chocolate chips, and food colouring. The kids must have raided the pantry while he wasn’t looking.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Mom’s going to kill me.

Fifteen minutes later, the kitchen looked like a Christmas tornado had blown through. Flour clung to every surface, creating a fine white dusting on the counters and the floor. The air smelled faintly of vanilla and chaos as sprinkles formed a rainbow mosaic across the tile. A suspicious puddle of milk was pooling near the sink, with a tiny trail leading to where Jack had ‘helpfully’ tried to clean up by tossing a damp paper towel onto it.

Bucky stood in the centre of the mess, his hands on his hips, surveying the damage. Laura and Jack beamed at him, their faces dusted with flour like a pair of pint-sized chefs who had just survived a battle.

“Alright,” Bucky said, holding up his hands as though calling a truce. “Let’s try this again, taking it one step at a time, reading the box this time. What’s first Gumdrop?”

“The box says mix the powder with eggs and butter!” Laura announced triumphantly, waving the instructions like a battle flag. Bucky had to admit her enthusiasm was contagious, even if it set off alarm bells in Bucky’s mind.

“Easy enough,” Bucky muttered, grabbing another mixing bowl from the pile of clean dishes. He grabbed an egg from the carton and cracked it against the rim of the bowl using his vibranium hand. The crack was… overzealous. Eggshell fragments rained into the bowl, some pieces sinking into the shiny white powder like tiny shipwrecks.

“Ew, Dad!” Jack squealed, pointing at the bowl with a mixture of horror and delight. “There’s crunchy bits in there!”

“Not anymore,” Bucky said, fishing out the pieces with exaggerated precision, his tongue sticking out slightly in concentration. He held up the last piece with a flourish, as though presenting a trophy. “See? Problem solved.”

Laura and Jack erupted into giggles, their earlier exasperation forgotten. The sight of their laughter made Bucky’s heart lighten, even as he felt the weight of impending doom over the state of the kitchen.

“Alright, next ingredient,” Bucky said, his tone determined. “Butter. Where’s the butter?”

Jack pointed to a stick of butter that had somehow ended up on the far end of the counter. It was half-unwrapped, a small dent where someone had poked it with their finger. Bucky sighed, grabbing the butter and tossing it into the bowl with the mix.

“You’re supposed to cut it up first,” Laura pointed out, crossing her arms like a tiny authority on baking, pulling a face that reminded Bucky how much she looked like her mother.

“Details,” Bucky replied with a shrug, grabbing a wooden spoon. He began mixing the ingredients together with an awkward vigor that sent a small cloud of flour puffing into the air.

The kids giggled again, and Bucky found himself grinning despite the mess.

By the time the dough was mixed, it resembled something out of a science experiment. The thick batter clung stubbornly to the wooden spoon, dotted with an outrageous amount of chocolate chips and sprinkles that the kids had insisted on adding (‘for maximum Christmas vibes!’ Laura had proclaimed, dumping the entire bag of sprinkles into the bowl without hesitation). The mixture sparkled in the light, an unholy concoction of sugar and chaos.

Bucky scraped some of the dough onto a baking sheet, attempting to shape it into a neat circle. The result was… underwhelming. The dough spread unevenly, forming an amorphous blob that barely resembled a cookie.

“Alright, your turn,” Bucky said, stepping back to let the kids take over.

Jack immediately grabbed a handful of dough, plopping it onto the sheet and mashing it with his fingers. “I’m making a snowman!” he declared, though the result looked more like a melting pile of snow. Laura took a more artistic approach, carefully shaping a star that ended up with one overly long point.

“Dad, look!” Jack exclaimed, holding up his hands, which were now completely coated in sticky dough. “I’m the Cookie Monster!” He made exaggerated chomping noises, pretending to eat his dough-covered fingers.

“You’re definitely something kiddo,” Bucky replied, shaking his head with a laugh. “Alright, let’s get these in the oven before you two eat the entire batch.”

He slid the tray into the oven, brushing stray sprinkles off the counter as he closed the door.

“Perfection is overrated,” Bucky muttered, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

“Exactly!” Laura said, grinning as she high-fived him with a hand still sticky with dough. Damn her smile lit up the room, Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he looked at their mismatched creations. The cookies might not win any awards, but they were unmistakably theirs.

While the cookies baked, the chaos continued to escalate. Laura’s eyes lit up when she spotted the small box of food colouring on the counter. “Let’s make frosting!” she declared, grabbing the box with all the authority of a professional chef. Jack clapped his hands in excitement, already imagining the colourful chaos.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Frosting, huh? You know how to make that Princess?”

“How hard can it be?” Laura shot back, echoing her earlier mantra.

They found a bowl and dumped powdered sugar into it with reckless abandon. Laura squeezed half the bottle of red dye into the mix, and Bucky watched in mild horror as the powder transformed into a neon pink mess that could probably be seen from space.

“Uh, maybe we should tone it down a bit,” Bucky suggested, but his kids were on a roll. Jack added a splash of milk—more than necessary—creating a runny, vibrant concoction that sloshed precariously as they stirred.

By the time they were done, the frosting bowls looked like a rainbow had exploded. There was bright green, electric blue, and a suspicious shade of orange that none of them remembered mixing.

When the timer dinged, signalling that the cookies were ready, Bucky opened the oven with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. The cookies, had personality. Some were lumpy, others were oddly shaped, and one snowman had mysteriously developed three arms during baking.

“They’re beautiful,” Jack said proudly, holding up the three-armed snowman with a grin that could melt the coldest heart.

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. “Beautiful might be a stretch kiddo, but they’re definitely unique.”

The decorating phase was pure, unfiltered chaos. Frosting ended up everywhere: on the table, on the kids, even in Bucky’s hair, where Jack had accidentally swiped him during an enthusiastic frosting application. Laura took her time, meticulously painting each cookie with an alarming amount of detail, while Jack adopted a more freestyle approach, dumping entire containers of sprinkles over the cookies until they resembled glittery mountains.

“Are those… abs?” Bucky asked, squinting at a gingerbread man Laura had decorated.

“Yep! It’s Uncle Steve in is uniform!” Laura replied, grinning as she added a tiny shield made of frosting.

Bucky groaned, covering his face with his hand. “Steve can never see this.”

Jack held up another gingerbread man, proudly announcing, “This one’s the Hulk!” The cookie was covered in green frosting and looked more like a blob than a superhero, but Jack’s enthusiasm was infectious.

“Sure is Buddy..But aren’t these suppose to be Christmas cookies”

“He had a Santa hat!” Bucky had to squint to work out where the hat was suppose to be.

By the time the last cookie was decorated, the kitchen was a disaster zone. The counters were sticky with frosting, the floor was a minefield of sprinkles, and the kids were covered head to toe in sugary chaos. And yet, as Bucky looked at their creations—imperfect, colorful, and uniquely theirs—he couldn’t help but smile. These were the moments that made the mess worth it.

Just as the last cookie was finished, you walked into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes and stifling a yawn. You froze in the doorway, your gaze sweeping across the scene. It was a masterpiece of chaos: the counters were caked with frosting and dusted with flour, sprinkles sparkled like confetti on the floor, and a faint aroma of slightly burnt sugar lingered in the air. The kids stood proudly in the middle of it all, their faces streaked with frosting, holding up their creations like trophies.

Bucky, standing amidst the chaos, was a sight to behold. His dark hair had streaks of bright red frosting smeared through it, and his shirt bore the evidence of the day’s adventures: flour handprints, a sprinkle trail, and a suspicious smear of neon pink. He held up a cookie shaped like a lopsided Christmas tree, his expression both sheepish and amused.

“Mommy!” the kids squealed in unison, abandoning their cookies to rush toward you. They tugged at your hands, eager to show off their masterpieces. “Look what we made!”

You raised an eyebrow, your gaze shifting from the grinning kids to Bucky, who gave you a lopsided smile. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said quickly, holding up the misshapen tree cookie as if it were a peace offering.

You stepped further into the kitchen, carefully avoiding a rogue puddle of frosting, and picked up one of the cookies. It was a snowman with three arms and a slightly charred bottom. Holding it up to the light, you examined it with a critical eye, the kids watching with bated breath. Then, to their surprise, you took a bite.

“Well,” you said, chewing thoughtfully as their anticipation grew. “It’s… edible. Mostly.”

The kids erupted into cheers, their laughter echoing through the kitchen. Bucky let out a relieved chuckle, running a hand through his hair and wincing as he encountered the sticky frosting streaks.

You reached out, swiping a bit of frosting from his cheek with your finger. “Next time,” you said with a smirk, “maybe wait until I’m awake.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he replied, pulling you in for a quick kiss. His lips tasted faintly of sugar, a sweet reminder of the chaos you’d walked into.

The kids clamoured for you to try more cookies, each one presenting their favourite creation with the kind of pride usually reserved for art gallery openings. As you laughed and indulged their enthusiasm, you couldn’t help but take in the scene. The kitchen was a disaster, the cookies were questionably edible, and Bucky looked like he’d been through a war zone. And yet, in that moment, surrounded by laughter, love, and the sticky sweetness of family, everything felt absolutely perfect.

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viridwns · 10 months ago

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How does each uppermoon see reader? like what do they see in her. Is she just a piece of meat? is she just nice too look at? do they actually care for her? I would really like to see more interaction with reader and akaza. he treats her so well.

also, I'm not sure if it's obvious but has the reader had sex with akaza and Kokushibo? I think it hinted that she's done it with muzan and Douma. but what about the other two?

Miscommunication

Let me clear some things up for you.

I try to write the characters in character, but if I would really stick to that, my story wouldn't exist. Muzan would've killed the reader on sight. If we're being realistic, none of the demons would 'fall in love' with a human.

I've not deep dived into how the demons see reader, but I'll try my best to explain. Warning: this can be ooc :)

As far as we have seen, our main moons and Muzan do have feelings, but they're all focused on aggression, anger, or jealousy. In exception for Douma, who doesn't feel anything.

But if we drag Nezuko and Tamayo into this, we can see that even demons are capable of caring and even loving.

Only the four mains are...well...red flags and very toxic, so I don't think they experience all those tender emotions the same way. As previously stated, they are driven by intense feelings. Instead of gentle loving and caring, they twist it into owning and keeping alive.

They do care for the reader, just not as a normal person would. They don't like it when she gets hurt when they have no control over it. When they do, they don't see the problem. They'll know she'll heal, and they know exactly what she can take. But if it's out of their hands, who knows what can happen to her. They really, really want her so she has to stay in perfect health for them.

Douma is just a whore for entertainment and reader was perfect for it. He didn't feel anything for her, just found her amusing and time killing while in the infinitycastle and later his cult. If he got bored of her, he would get rid of her. Sure, he thought she was good-looking and wouldn't mind killing some time in bed (he has his needs, just mindless sex), but nothing special. Until Douma just couldn't get enough of her. He found her so amusing. Every sound, movement, or any other reaction drove him crazy. He didn't understand this sort of excitement and the need to just be with her all the time. Douma wanted to feel like this all day, every day. He didn't even realize that maybe this is what having emotion is supposed to be like.

To Douma reader is like a thirst he can't quench. He needs more and more and more of her until he is satisfied, which is never.

Akaza, our only upper who is not just driven by strength, but also by his make shift empathy he seems to have. He felt bad for reader when he first met her. Nothing more, really. He just wanted her suffering to end already. And then it all sort of changed when he saved her from danger. His reality from now got mixed with the reality from his past. He got the sudden need to protect her at all costs and to care for her like he once did for someone else. Reader is a replacement to make a happy ending come true that was robbed of him so many decades ago. She is his second chance.

Kokushibo is focused on his rage, his jealousy. The plaything Douma brought a long did nothing for him. Although...seeing how his two colleagues treated the poor thing, he had to admit it got him a little intrigued. Her fighting them off was the beginning. Kokushibo didn't know why, but he somehow respected her bravery. He wanted to know just how brave she was. The actual 'romantic' feelings came much later, though.

In the beginning, Muzan didn't care for her. She was just a human Douma brought along. Not his concern. She would die eventually. He didn't have time to waste on an inferior being that didn't contribute to his plans. Dear old Muzan did hear Douma's thoughts, though, and that of the rest. Peaking his interest is something not many can do. Now she's earned his time. Muzan doesn't develop real feelings until quite a while. He's just interested in what will happen to reader. But the more he hears the others and the more he spends time with her, the more he wants to keep her all to himself. She interests him, he wants to keep experimenting with her, and no one can say no. Douma can wait with eating her (if he was still planning on that), she needs to satisfy Muzan's curiosity first.

They mostly see her as a plaything, a pet to entertain them and to keep busy. She is there to fill a void all of them got when turning into a Demon.

Now Akaza does treat reader the best, but that doesn't change the fact that he doesn't let her do anything, and I mean anything. She's human, she's fragile, everything can hurt her. He also thinks she can't decide anything on her own. Akaza tells reader what to wear, to eat, and to do. He helps her brush her teeth, grabs things for her, and even spoon feeds from time to time

He's very controlling because he is so scared of loosing her. When he's in control, he'll know exactly what will happen to reader.

Between chapter one and two of the story, they all did it with her. The first was Douma, but that was even before he really got obsessed with her, and the rest wanted her as well. It was only after they made the compromise to share her that the others went to bed with her. When Douma thought it was funny to fuck her brains out for everyone to see, just to show how lovely her reactions were. They couldn't really control themselves, it was like a primal urge hit them.

Kokushibo just...did it. No emotion or foreplay, just pure instinct. Akaza controled himself and talked her through it, slowly sushing her sobs and protests with praises and easing himself into her.

Muzan was the last. He had resisted for a long time because he wouldn't stoop so low and sleep with a human because he couldn't control himself. He wouldn't allow someone weaker than him to have so much control over him. But sometimes, he just snaps when it becomes too much. It's a nice way to forget about his anger and frustrations he found.

It was all noncon in the beginning, but it slowly turned into dubcon as the reader just gave up.

I hope this answers your questions!

As I said it might be a little ooc, but oh well.

#yandere kny x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba x reader #yandere kny #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere muzan kibutsuji #yandere kokushibo #yandere douma #yandere akaza #viri can't help it

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love-toxin · 7 months ago

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hi! hello! just wanna say that i will give Tsung, Mel, Seóirse, Makoi, Adrain and Shura the most sloppiest, wettest, creamiest, soul taking, life changing, death dropping, flabbergasting, hypnotizing, heavenly, astonishing, leg trembling, hands desperately grabbing the sheets, leg shaking, toe curling, voice breaking, whimper causing head. (not my words, but i live by them.)

let's explore this anon :)

(cws: gn!darling, bullying, humiliation kink, orgasm denial, "dubcon" but not really, spit, teasing, gagging, extended cum release™, name-calling, dom/sub dynamics)

Tsung Lý

"Please please please please ple--please--fuck-!"

Tsung could never just shut up when you were doing your thing. God forbid you ever wanted to get frisky with him outside the bedroom, he'd probably alert the whole city to your activites and you'd have to deal with your boyfriend getting all scared and fidgety when you were just trying to get some.

"Shut up." You huffed as you brought your head up, mouth slick and lips swollen from the treatment you'd been giving him. "You're too loud."

"I'm s-sorry, baby." Tsung's whines only served to irritate you more. He was such a wimp. That quivering lower lip--no wonder everyone thought of him as a freak. You gave him a tough squeeze and he doubled over on himself, shoulders shaking as he gripped your head and tried desperately not to make a sound. The slow, wet strokes of your fist up his soaked cock filled the air with hushed, laborious breathing from his panting chest. You wanted desperately to mock him for being so hard again, but that would undoubtedly only make him hornier.

"I-I...I wanna cum-"

"You can't."

"Please."

You rolled your eyes, and wordlessly, you stuck your head back down and nuzzled it into his lap, your hair sliding through his fingers as he babbled out some plea that soon melted into nothing more than a cry of pleasure. The moment your lips touched his cock, all thought was out the window.

"Please, baby!" He cried hoarsely, desperately begging with every stroke of your tongue on his spit-soaked length. "I-I'm gonna die! Lemme cum, please, ple-hease!"

As much as you wanted to remind him "You're not gonna die from getting sucked off" it wouldn't make a difference anyways. Tsung's fingers tightened around your head, he bucked once, and he was in your throat--miles and miles deeper in than he could handle without creaming it up like a milk carton exploding.

"Glk-!" The sound of your gagging only made him stiffen up more as he came. While your nails digging into his thighs surely hurt, Tsung's grip just tightened on your head and he wouldn't let you up--in the heat of the moment, apologies spilled off his lips for his terrible indiscretion of holding your head down while he beat your poor throat raw with needy thrusts. All that filled your ears was the wet shlucking of his cum filling your throat, lubing him up to glide with relative ease despite how tight you were clenching around him. "It's like fucking one of your other holes. It hurts. It feels so good. I love you!"

Over a minute later, you finally managed to pry yourself off of his lap with a bout of coughing and gasping desperately for air. The slime that coated your mouth all the way down tasted of nothing but salt on your tongue, while Tsung laid back as gutless as ever, pale thighs shaking gently as his cock continued to spurt little jets of milky-white pearls all over himself.

"F-Fffelt so good..." He gasped as if risen from the dead, though Tsung could still barely move since he was still--still!--cumming. And he wondered why you made him wait for his orgasms. Because of this.

"Making a goddamned mess." You muttered with a hoarse throat, yet your mouth started to wet as you watched his jerky thrusts into empty air. Salivating. Drooling over a preppy freak that you found humping your pillow, and just took ownership of him since he praised the ground you walked on anyways. Tsung was a million walking red flags, and he was a creep that obsessed over you so much he basically developed a crazy sex habit cause of you. Because you're so "perfect" in his words.

You laid your head on his thigh and watched his quivering slowly draw to a close, the cum stop bubbling up, and his breathing finally even out. A series of sticky little puddles soaked into your sheets below him, the dip of his stomach, the tip where it all collected--you leaned in to lap it up and wriggled your tongue against his slit, which earned you a yelp and a desperate hand on your shoulder like he wanted you to stop. As if. The sensitivity was just a bit much.

"C-Can't do another-"

"Yes you can." You gripped his thick shaft with slick fingers, each one wetted with your spit as you let a glob of it drool out of your mouth. "You ruined it for me, try it again."

"Nooooo-" He moaned weakly and squirmed, but wouldn't pull your wrist away from him. It was all just an act, a show, and loathe as you were to give him a compliment he was an incredible actor. He could even turn your focus away from the gleam in his scarlet eyes at the thought of being touched again, of being forced to cum again, but as good as he was at pretending nothing could hide how easily he grew stiff in your hand again. Tsung shed tears as you started your strokes and began the process anew...yet you were certain that the second he got the chance, he would take over and cum in your mouth without permission, again. Again, and again, and again--that's how it always went, right up until he couldn't take your magnificent torture anymore and passed out cold and sticky.

This little freak was so fucking dead--once you worked up the stamina to punish him properly, that is.

(cws: gn!darling, brat taming, cockwarming, choking, lazy sex, extra spicy teasing)

Mel Mimiya

Mel had so little pomp and circumstance in matters of carnal pleasure--if he hadn't explained his reasons to you, you would've thought he simply couldn't be bothered to put in the same effort with you that he gave to his clients at the hybrid club. For them he would purr, and stretch, and jingle around in that little bell collar, tending to every one of their needs with a smile and a sweet voice.

But at home he was an animal, and nothing more. He humped your face with urgent vigour some days, while others he laid back and let you bring yourself to all the heights you pleased while he watched. Though no matter what, he always looked at you as though you held the world. Today was no exception.

It had been quite the long day, however. Mel was tired. Lazy. Hadn't gotten enough of a nap on his break. Now, he was taking it out on you--his adorable partner that really missed him while he was out.

"Use your tongue," He murmured amongst his nest of blankets, all laid out like some prince on his royal bed. "Lick it slow, sweetie. Had a long day."

Only half-listening, you proceeded with your plan of working him right down your throat--while his day was long and full of exertion, yours was long and occupied with nothing but thoughts of going home and going to town on your catty boyfriend. He put you in your place the minute you had him in your mouth, though. Mel flicked your forehead gently as you choked down all his inches at once, forcing you to start and pull back off with a cough. "Slow, I said. You're such a little shit-stirrer." He chided, laughing in that breathy, nearly hoarse voice of his that made your stomach twist in knots. "So needy."

"You like it." You pouted, flicking out your tongue to at least get a taste of him, which he would've paid for dearly if he hadn't allowed it.

"I do." Mel reached down and ruffled your hair with a loving, gentle touch. God, his smile could spin gold, undoubtedly. "But I'm tired, baby."

"Then let me help you relax." Your fingers squished as they wrapped around his length, your slow strokes coaxing a whine out of his throat that made him tilt back his chin in pleasure. You watched with giddy glee at his lithe tail coming alive to loosely wrap around your forearm as you did so.

"You don't even know the meaning of the word," Mel gasped, but once again, you weren't listening. Your attention was zeroed in on the way his slit pooled with a clear liquid, the little puddle atop his cock gleaming in the dim lights you turned down to set the mood. "Don't ignore me. I know you can hear me."

His stern tone really didn't do as much when he could barely keep his voice from cracking, nor his hips from squirming away from the stimulating touch of your hand. The second flick of your tongue sent him reeling, and his ringed fingers grasped at the sheets with the softest, whiniest "myaow!".

"Good kitty." Your moan rumbled right through his lap, your lips far too eager to take him in despite how squirmy he was already.

"B-Bad human," Mel gasped right back. The glower on his face right then would scare off any prey--but you had something you wanted, and only the utterance of his safe word would keep you from getting it. He so rarely used it though, because he really just liked being a tease. "You need a leash." His last syllable ended on a groan that sent delectable shivers all down your spine. "A muzzle, too."

Just to show him what you really needed, you twisted your grip at the base and made his hips buck, incidentally plowing past the roof of your mouth with a deep hiss. Mel's tail flicked to and fro while he squeezed his eyes shut, only for one of those violet irises to squint down at you with a growl at the sight he beheld. Your lips pressed right against the flattest dip of his belly, thin, dark hairs tickling your nose where you'd seated yourself. Mel couldn't help but watch with held breath as your face grew darker and hotter the longer you kept yourself down; yet you wouldn't come up for air until the very last moment you had to.

Both his furry ears twitched with delight and a sense of pride, to say nothing of the utter heat you brought on by enveloping his entire length in such a tight, soft hole that kept spasming and pulsing around him the longer you warmed him.

Mel's fingertips brushed the hair from your eyes to see you better. The vision of you like this, for him, would never fail to remind him of all he had to be grateful for--even when the moment was broken by you frantically yanking your head back and coughing as he slid out from your lips, your head obviously spinning from the deprivation as you immediately took a minute to clear your throat--and catch your breath, of course. You knelt there with a hand on your chest, huffing and puffing ad nauseum, until a peal of clear laughter rung out and Mel flopped back into the sheets.

"You're way too cute. Try again--take a deep breath this time, sweetie. Let's train those lungs of yours, ah?"

(cws: gn!darling, size difference, bondage, cock worship, soft -> rough, selkie heat cycles in action)

Seóirse Braonain

"Baby, you're gonna break the bed."

Seóirse was aghast. How you could blitz him with one of the wettest, sloppiest, bone-rattling orgasms he'd had in his life, and expect him not to start going numb and dazed and flailing about when you started back up all over again...it was criminal. It was foul.

But it was something he needed desperately, as humiliated as he was to admit it. He was a creature that desired pleasure, as many were, but more particular he was than that--he needed pleasure from you, or else what was the point of even living? If your attention wasn't on him, what the hell did he even wake up in the mornings for?

There were caveats to that, though. For one, Seóirse was big. Like, big. So in order to make sure he didn't rip a hole in your throat, or choke you to the point of collapsing one of your lungs...

...You had to come to this humiliating conclusion. He had to be tied down like an animal, bound at the wrists and ankles--subdued--and only then would you get down on your knees and service him as if it were your only job in the world.

And the worst part was that you were right. Deep down, when you had your hands on his thighs like you did right now, and you were teasing his third leg with those dastardly kitten licks? All Seóirse wanted to do was grab your head in his enormous hands and thrust. He wanted your belly pumped so full of cum he could see it swell. He wanted you to cough out his seed for a week after he was done.

But he wanted to be a good boy, and he didn't want to hurt you. So he let you tie him up to the bed, and he tried, god, he tried not to let his strength overwhelm you as you played with his cock in your soft hands.

"Mwah," Another kiss pecked so delicately to his tip, which had already flushed so dark it was nearly purple. The blood that rushed to his privates in heated moments like these always made his mind fuzzy--it made it so much harder for him to think straight, which was why he usually tried to enter you when he was only half-soft. That was....lower down, though. Your mouth was different. Much different. He could stand completely at attention and not hurt you, not even have to worry about stretching you too much or going too deep, especially when he was tied up as he was right now.

But the problem was you. When he could see that determination in your eyes, the grin on your lips, the way you poised yourself over his legs and looked at him like he was a treat?

Oh, he was completely done for.

Your lips pressed together in a soft line, glossy and wet from your own spit and the water wetting his skin from his latest swim. You always teased that he tasted of saltwater, but it never seemed to bother you--nor did the sudden, weighty shift of his erection as it twitched, excited from the warm air you puffed against it. You laughed and your eyes sparkled, and your kiss...it soon turned into more.

Seóirse watched with wide eyes as you moved to swallow the tip, how your lips managed to stretch around the blubbery flesh without pause. You were getting good at this. Your nostrils flared with a soft inhale to prepare, and you bobbed your head down--far enough that it was only an inch or two, but enough for his arms to strain against the buckles in an instinctive desire to ensure you were okay.

"M-My love?" He tensed, fist closing and releasing suddenly at the pulse of your heart around him. You merely glanced up at him and winked with a soft stroke to his inner thigh. I'm okay. That's what your gestures told him, though could he be blamed when his own size was the reason you had to train yourself to take him? He knew he would see a bulge in your throat soon, and once you fit a little more in it appeared, and he suddenly started having a much harder time just staying still.

His left foot yanked on the leather cuff around it as he writhed, the material squeaking wretchedly against his skin as his body jerked of its own accord. Your mouth was just so warm. Your tongue slaked over each vein with loving precision, every sensitive cell in his body crying out in the face of your unwavering worship. He wished so badly to be half the size just so he could ravish you without restriction, so that these damned restraints could be thrown out and he could fuck you and ravage your body like-

Cree-aack!

Seóirse's eyes flitted from you, to his left wrist, and back to you again. The cuff, once attached by a chain and padlock to the corner of the bedframe, still hung snug and tight around his giant wrist. However, the wooden pillar of his bedframe had snapped off completely, leaving the broken piece to fall and tumble to the floor by the bed with a clatter, leaving the chain to dangle uselessly from his cuff.

What possessed him to then reach down and grab your head was pure, unadulterated selkie lust, and nothing more of his reasonable mind. Seóirse yanked your mouth up and off his cock with whatever self-control still remained, and in an insatiable heat, pulled you by the back of your head to smush those pretty lips against his shaft.

Thank god you were so understanding. You would understand his desires--hell, you had a dopey grin on your face the moment he took control, and ground his dick against your face in long, deep strokes. The spit and water and precum that dribbled and soaked him down to the balls was all that could save you from the immense friction of him thrusting that monster against your face, his attention especially focused on those lips that kissed and licked and suckled around whatever spots you could manage to latch on to. This was the only way to fuck you without injury, without permanently scarring his one true love--and with the giddiness that came over you as he climaxed faster and harder than he ever had before, and painted your face with pearls of creamy, thick seed like he'd never have the courage to do when he made love to you before...

Well, maybe he would just have to make this new way of lovemaking a guilty pleasure habit.

(cws: gn!darling [w/ one unserious mention of 'princess'], dirty talk, facefucking, rimming mention, degradation, mild humiliation)

Makoi Azumako

"We literally just fucked."

"And?"

Your head poised over his lap, your hand resting at the base of his hip. Makoi had barely caught his breath before you were shimmying down there, your body still wet with sweat and spit so your skin gave off a sheen in the dim light. He'd only lit a few lamps in the paper lanterns around the room, though the futon was soft enough not to make much noise in the night as you shuffled around. The last thing you wanted was to wake up one of his relatives in the house, especially after just getting away with being all cozy under the covers.

"You want me to suck you off, or not?"

"Well...shit, I won't say no." He sighed, and folded his arms back to rest his head against them. "You're really a fuckin' freak, though."

"I'll bite you."

"Fuckin' do it." Makoi grinned down at you. He could never let you get the drop on him--he was always so smug. "Show me those teeth, kitty. Bet the blood turns you on. Freak."

"M'not actually gonna bite you."

"Good, or I'd have to beat your ass." He narrowed his eyes and reached down. His fingers slid with confidence around his soft knob of flesh, the limp appendage stirring as his grip tightened around the base. "Now get to work. Ain't gonna lick itself."

"Asshole." You muttered with a huff, easing your tongue out to swipe a lick over the warm mound of muscle. It still tasted of you from earlier.

"Wanna lick that too? Then keep the tone, brat." Just as he spoke, a gasp that was too soft for his attitude fluttered off his lips, and he settled lower into the pillows to enjoy himself.

"...Maybe a little bit."

"Freak." He groaned with an arch of his back as your tongue met the base of his shaft, his fingers fisting into the pillows under his head. "Tell you what, you can shove your tongue up there if I get this kinda head every day. Ffffuuuuck..." His voice slurred, eyes rolling back the second your lips met his sack. "Goddamn angel mouth. Give it a kiss, princess."

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, the exact one that he used to tease you more often than not. Makoi guided his cock by the base to tap the head between your eyes, and with little provocation--despite how degrading his command was--your sticky lips met his tip and you flicked out your tongue to lap up the salty, bitter taste of precum. He urged you on all the while, watching greedily as you swallowed inch by inch his thick, veiny cock, up until your nose was buried in a bush of black hairs at the base.

"Mmh." He laid back again, one hand perched behind his head while the other gripped yours through your hair, just to make sure you stayed in place. Just to tease, he tilted your head in a slow circle to watch how your throat bulged with his length, to see how your eyes watered until you beat once on his thigh and he let you pull off and sputter before you choked. Makoi laughed, and in the midst of you huffing out another insult, he gripped your hair again and shoved you down open-mouthed on his dick again, ensuring you took in every last inch again like the good cockwarmer you were.

"Just shut up for once, babe. Sound so much cuter with a mouth fulla dick." He humped his hips once just to see your reaction, and at the sight of you braced to take him without gagging he couldn't help but let out a pleased sigh. "Yeah, you like that? Bet you love suckin' on this fat fuckin' cock. E'en more than you love humpin' it, right?" He cackled wickedly as his hips slowly started to pump against your face, voice slurring at a faster pace now that he had a warm hole to plunge into. He was always like that. Cockdrunk, but it was almost always his own cock he got high off of.

Shluk, shluk, shluk, shluk--the sound vibrated in your ears with each thrust, the tip of Makoi's dick making a distinct smack each time it kissed the back of your throat. His hips forced your head to tilt back each time, like every buck was a strike to the face, and the feel of his balls smushing against your chin when he paused and slapping the skin wetly when he didn't was just plain degrading. Mako loved to embarrass you in private, but maybe you also just liked to be embarrassed, too.

"Fuckin' like that?" You could just slap that smirk right off his face, whether it got you off or not. Makoi's chest heaved over your face with long, laborious breaths; whether he liked it or not, he couldn't keep up a pace this dirty for long. Not with you. Not when you were just an absolute angel for him. "Suck dick so fffuckin' good, christ-"

A cord snapped in your boyfriend--something deep and primal, no doubt--and in a matter of seconds, his hands were gripping your shoulders and he was throwing you over on your back, his cockhead just barely smearing your own spit on your lips before he plowed his way back in; now with his knees by your head and his body hunched over you from the neck up. With one hand gripping the back of your head and the other glued to the floor by his totally sweat-soaked futon, Makoi's voice rumbled through your body with a string of vile comments one after another: "G'nna fuck you fuckin' stupid after", "Don't you dare goddamn spit", "Lessee that fuckin' gag reflex"--each word vibrated through your very bones and had you moaning around the bulge wedged deep in your throat, in exactly the spot where Makoi pounded in his last thrust before there's a groan that you're sure resonated throughout the whole house.

Glug. Glug. Glug. Glug. The noises your swallowing made were enough to plaster a dazed grin across Makoi's face, who seemed more than satisfied with feeling your throat rise and fall with his hand cupped over it. Then, and only then, would he slowly slide his way out with a final pop and a breathy sigh at the milky trail he left down your chin. Still grinning like an idiot, he brushed his thumb over the sticky skin and licked it off, before planting a kiss squarely on your swollen lips.

"Fuckin' cutie. So lucky you're mine."

(cws: gn!darling, established marriage, hatefucking, rough sex, crying, adrian's submissive & breedable for once...sorta)

Adrian Moorwell

Adrian was barely through the front door when you jumped him.

It was a surprise attack--no particular occasion, you just couldn't help but get worked up through the day. Your husband was gone too long and you'd been fighting for the whole weekend. Part of you thought he might've been happy to get away from you and your complaining, if only for a bit. But it seemed as though he was only in shock as you dropped to your knees and pawed at him, ripping open his pants so fiercely you popped both buttons off. He'd have to sew them back on later. For now, you had one thing on your mind.

"Honey--honey, wait! L-Let me get the door closed-" Adrian stumbled, his file folders hitting the floor for papers to scatter as he fumbled with the door handle behind him. Too late. You already had his pants halfway down his thighs, and though you had few neighbors to snoop on you, perhaps the birds living in the trees that lined the walkway would forever be traumatized by your face planted squarely in your husband's crotch.

You hummed almost absentmindedly as your lips sealed around the crease in his tight boxers--you thanked god he always wore the ones close to his skin, because without even an ounce of stiffness in it, you could see the imprint of his cock in them from a mile away. You wouldn't bother with pulling them down; it was more entertaining to feel him pulling lightly on your hair when you started suckling him through the wetted fabric.

"Shit!" A rare curse exploded out of his mouth as the door thudded closed, and with a thump his back fell against it and you had Adrian in the palm of your hands--or more aptly, on the flat of your tongue. Even you could hardly believe the sheer length of him bundled up in all those tight pants his students would gawk at and whisper about, and even colleagues of his would wonder between themselves if he really was packing all that people thought he was. If you ever cared to assure them, you would say that he most certainly was.

Adrian fiddled with his fingers on your scalp for a moment before shakily speaking up. "I f-ffigured you were still-"

"I'm still pissed." You cut him off, and he flinched as if you had bit him. Honestly, you were more annoyed that he forced you to pull yourself away to answer rather than what he asked in itself. "Take it out."

"Wh--Why?"

"I wanna see it."

Finally, Adrian huffed, and his attitude started to come out as he straightened himself out--though he gave in and kicked his pants completely off his legs first, leaving him only in a pair of underwear with the biggest, darkest stain on the front.

"I'm your husband, not a whore."

"Just show it to me."

He sighed, and against his better judgement, he slid his thumbs beneath the waist of his wine-coloured boxers and slowly peeled them down his hips, the fabric rolling up in waves as they came down those long, dark legs. Even still half-soft, his cock stood out impressively against the rest of his lower half, though he stood awkwardly in his front hall still wearing his turtleneck from a day of teaching classes. Next to his spouse that he'd been fighting with all weekend, suddenly on your knees for him. You moved in for the kill, but at the last second Adrian's rough palm stopped you by the forehead and gently pushed you back.

"You're not doing this in the hallway." Ignoring your huff and the pout spelled out on your lips, he stepped past you and trusted you would scramble up to follow, which you did. "Let's go to the bedroom."

"S'too far." You replied from behind, and in the instant that Adrian stepped through the doorway into the sitting room, you let slip a smirk and started pushing him back until he stumbled and fell backwards into the sofa. Not even his scowl could mask the wide-eyed stare he gave you once you stood over him and stripped off the robe you'd been wearing since your afternoon shower. Even in the heat of an argument, he couldn't deny the power your body held over him at any given time.

You threw the robe at his face and on instinct, he breathed in despite his annoyance at having his view blocked. The moment he yanked it off and tossed it aside, you'd already gotten down again and crept towards his lap like a lion stalking its prey. Over the arm of the sofa you clambered, and before he could sit up completely your five fingers met his chest and you shoved him back against the other arm, your eyes dark and misty with lust.

"Honestly, I wanna fuck you, but you pissed me off too much this week." You murmured as you pawed your way down his body to his lap, so your knees propped your ass up while your cheek came to rest on his inner thigh, inches away from your prize. "So I'm gonna suck you off, and you're gonna take it, and then I'm gonna find something to do while you sit here and mope."

"I don't mope." Adrian scowled down at you. "At least give me a kiss first."

For his demands, you leaned up and pecked him carelessly on the lips before returning to your position.

"See that? It's called a compromise." Your teasing earned you a roll of the eyes from your husband, who you could tell had had about enough of you dredging up your recent string of arguments.

"Why don't you just save your words and get to it?"

Oh, now he was getting spicy. You masked a huge grin and went to work almost immediately--the flat of your tongue met his tip and Adrian gasped, his hips could barely stay still on the couch and lifted the moment he felt you touch him skin-to-skin. His hand flew to your head but it wasn't to stop you this time, rather it was to hold himself in place like an anchor as you slobbed your soft tongue messily all over his lap. Thank god your nearest neighbors were all the way down the road, or you'd be subject to some noise complaints for sure--and maybe some 911 calls for the times your husband moaned like he was being fucking murdered.

“Jesus! Ssslow down, fuck, fuck-!” Adrian's voice cracked into a pitchy whine that pierced right through your ears, and if you could smirk with a mouthful of him, you would. His waist jerked sideways as his body inched away from the intense shocks of pleasure, nearly toppling you off the couch in the process. With a hand planted on either side of the dips where his hips and waist met, you used your leverage to pin your husband's body down to the cushions. No matter the hands that pushed on your head or his pitiful begging as you noisily sucked down his dick, he had something you wanted and nothing was gonna stop you from taking it. Rather than pull off to gloat, you let him see the bulge of his own cock nestled in your cheek, and teased him with the warmth you rubbed all over it in that little pouch of heat and spit.

This'll show my prick of a husband the meaning of spite. That was the thought that came to your mind in that moment, and understandably so. Your plan initially was to work him up, blueball him, and leave him hanging all night. That was what he deserved for being such an asshole during all those fights you had over the weekend, because Adrian wasn't usually so clingy and with such a bad attitude as he was then–nor was he usually so cold during whatever fights you had over your marriage. It actually really hurt your feelings. But you didn't want to tell him that.

But contrary to your initial frustrations, you knew your plan was abandoned when you peered up at him and saw the glisten of tears trailing down his face.

“Please,” He mumbled in a quiet, soft tone. “I love the way you make me feel.” He couldn't quite get those next two words out; “Don't stop”. So you decided to spell each letter out with your tongue, and watched as Adrian's head hit the arm of the couch while he shrieked with the pleasure wracking his oversensitive body. Maybe later you'd bother to ask what had him strung so tight that whole time, and he'd tell you about all those ugly reasons why he felt so possessive over you. How the voice at the back of his head told him he needed to own you. But whenever you reminded him of your love for him, he just melted into a puddle of worship and wonder why on earth you would ever love a messed-up old man like him.

Either way, he was an “old man” that was getting his dick sucked into the netherworld tonight. Adrian never had any idea how much his teary eyes turned you on, at least not until you kissed them off his cheeks and slid your ass up into his lap. Fuck leaving him high and dry–not even the worst frustrations in the world could keep you from watching your husband's eyes roll back in pleasure as you rode the professor brainless.

(cws: gn!darling, dubcon, noncon photography, exhibitionism, "i got sold to the azumakos" wattpad plotline, cum drinking, praise, pet names)

Shura Roanoke

"Would you look at that shit?" Shura's grin was like a panther's--unsettling and surely up to no good. Click. The flash on his camera blinded you momentarily, but the spots blotting your vision was nothing unusual by now. In fact, you were just getting used to it.

"Smile. Oh, wait--looks like you've got your mouth full." His laugh was like the windchimes you'd heard from the neighbor's porches; clear and soft, yet it pierced through the din of the dark room you were in and the red lights that accented it. As the sound of your spit shucking as it lubed up your lips, the yakuza pressed his thumb to your cheek and implored you to open them wider. Don't wanna hurt the new toy.

That was what you were here for. Your father was a yakuza head--and a bad one at that. He'd stolen money from the wrong people many times, and made enemies of those he should never have even been in the same rooms with. But when it came to gambling, he was all in all the time. And when the Azumakos came knocking to collect his enormous debt to them, he left you at their mercy and skipped town to escape what he'd wrought. "Piece of shit." That was Shura's first comment to you when he arrived at the sketchy little hovel where you'd been left, but you'd soon learn once you saw his grin and listened to his proposition that he wasn't talking about you--but that didn't matter anymore. As far as they were concerned, you were now an Azumako with all the rest of them.

"Show me those pretty eyes, pumpkin. Wanna get a good shot, yeah?" Shura aimed his phone down and brushed the hair from your face, just in time for another click and to see his expression light up at the newest photo on his screen. "Oh-ho, Mako is gonna love you. Suck it more-" His shoulders shook when you obeyed, and his eyes rolled back in the moment at the tight squeeze around his dick, which he'd buried right to the hilt in your soft, warm mouth. "-Shiiiiit, that's good. Don't even need another hole, yeah? Think I'm fine with just this one."

Apparently growing satisfied with the album's worth of photos he'd taken of you choking down his cock, Shura set his phone aside and leaned into the kiss of his tip against the back of your throat, head tilted back in pleasure as he gripped the seat beneath him. The other yakuza that were with him had dispersed somewhat to look around for members of your father's gang, but a few hung around in casual conversation nearby as if Shura getting blown two feet from them was totally normal. You'd learn later that they weren't part of the core "family", just some low-level thugs and gangsters who needed cash and a bodyguard job. But the few pairs of eyes burning holes into you weren't unnoticed, and Shura gingerly stroked your hair as if he was trying to comfort you.

"Ignore them, sweetness. Just wanna watch the show is all--you're all mine." He dipped down to whisper that last part, before leaning back with a deep sigh as he eased your head down to bob it on his lap again. One of his bodyguards came up within a few inches of you and muttered something in his ear, which Shura didn't seem to care one way or another if you heard or not.

"...Mhm. Well, take care of him, then. Make him pay, yeah?" The other man in the suit vanished from the room, and Shura looked down on you with a peaceful smile.

"That's it. Just keep stroking me with that soft tongue. Y'know, Makoi can find whoever he wants to get him off--I kinda like the idea of making you mine." He tilted his head at you, peering into your very soul as his hand guided your head up and down, up and down his thick cock. "Yeah? You like that? Wanna be my little arm candy? I bet you'll like gettin' licked out every night. I'm a fair guy--scratch my back, I scratch yours. You can't imagine what my tongue can do."

He winked down at you, and the laugh that escaped him melted into a fuzzy, open-mouthed moan that he couldn't even try to hold in.

"That's it, that's it, that's it--more, lil' more, just--fuck--u-use your tongue on the--fffuck, there!"

The sweet spot he was guiding you to, wherever it really was, seemed to work more than wonders as Shura's voice cracked and he threw his head back against the chair. You watched with awe as his adam's apple bobbed in time with his gasps of your name, and your mouth flooded suddenly with an immense heat--one that you couldn't hope to combat, only to bear as ropes of sticky seed shot down your tongue and into the depths of your throat. Shura held you there firmly to take in every sloshing ounce of cum that spilled on to the bed of your swollen tongue, every bitter swallow until his thumb ran across your lower lip and you opened up to show him a clean mouth.

"Ohhh! Impressive!" He laughed jubilantly while tucking himself back into his pants like nothing happened. While the future ahead was still hazy and scary, at least Shura's optimism was comforting. But his smirk as he picked his phone back up, and the possessive touch of his hand as he pulled you up on his lap was...less so.

"Now, let's pick out the best pictures to send to the guys. They're nice, I promise--you're gonna love your new big brothers, pumpkin."

#yanverse #yandere ocs #spicy writing #tsung ly #mel mimiya #seoirse braonain #makoi azumako #adrian moorwell #shura roanoke #tsung ly x reader #mel mimiya x reader #seoirse braonain x reader #makoi azumako x reader #adrian moorwell x reader #shura roanoke x reader #ellie writes #anons

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expecto-patronix · 2 years ago

Text

Full Focus (Fernando Alonso x Reader) smut

A/n: fuck it, Fernando smut for all the nando fuckers out there.

Pairing: Fernando Alonso x (female) reader

Warnings: smut (oral, both receiving). Age gap (reader is in mid 20s, Fernando 41)

Summary: you and a few guys have a twitch stream session but your secret boyfriend Fernando is a distraction and a tease.

Word count: 3229

----------

How you had managed to keep your relationship with Fernando secret from your friends was still a mystery. You, Lando, Charles and Pierre were hanging out all the time. Even in covid you were still streaming on twitch with the guys on a regular basis.

Before covid you would walk around the paddock. As a journalist your job was to find out as much gossip as would be possible. With you being the same age as the younger drivers, you had an easy way in. Their humour matched yours and quickly you became a part of their friend group.

Why they had never noticed your eyes lingering on the Aston Martin garage every time you walked down the paddock to meet with them was a mystery. Somewhere during his time with Alpine you had met Fernando on the grid. Of course, you had interviewed him a few times prior to that but this time Esteban introduced you two. Now Fernando had joined Aston he looked better then ever. His big brown eyes always had a glint when he was dressed in his team clothes or driver suit, and you loved to see him like that.

You hadn’t told your friends about your relationship yet because you weren’t sure how they’d react. Fernando was obviously significantly older than you and you did not want to have to justify anything. So, you and Fernando decided to keep things quiet at first, just waiting for the right time to tell your friends.

Now there were 3 weeks with no races, meaning everyone had some free time to just enjoy themselves. The off time gave you and your friends time to stream again, which was something you could only do if there was no race to prepare for. You had gradually invested in better gaming equipment so you could better match the drivers during your e-racing matches. You just hoped they would not notice how your skill level had improved exponentially ever since Fernando came over more and more often and gave you some pointers.

‘LNADO! THAT WAS MY CORNER YOU BASTERD’ you scream laughing into the mic. Your ears are filled with at first the loud laughter of Charles and then the loud wheezing of Lando. You tear your eyes away from the screen as a red flag pops up and a message saying you were out of the race. To the right side of your living room, out of view from the camera, Fernando has put down a yoga mat and is now doing some weights and core exercises. It was a sight to behold really, his tight white sport shirt clinging to his body and showing off his muscles whatever way he moved.

‘Earth to Y/n!’ Charles voice brought you back to the game. Apparently, you and Lando crashed so hard it created a chain effect crashing everyone and so the race was over and a new one was ready to start, only you still had to connect. Your eyes snap back to the screen. On screen two you see the boys staring at you with amused smiles. You tried to supress the blush wanting to creep up on your cheeks.

‘What has you so distracted all of a sudden?’ Lando teases.

‘Nothing, just my cat jumping on the table and almost knocking something over…’ you lie, in the corner of your eyes you see Fernando break his set while he catches on to what is happening in your stream. The blush on your face and neck was also speaking volumes.

‘Awh, can you show the cat?’ Pierre asked.

Goddamnit.

‘Ahh maybe later? He just… left the room.’ It was a terrible lie, but at least the guys dropped the topic after that and the next race started. You did a qualifying and all, all of you easily passing though to Q2. Then when you were waiting in the garage to go out for Q2 you see Fernando on the yoga mat. He was sweaty from his previous exercise so he decided to take off his shirt. Oh fuck. Then the fucker proceeded to do lounges. He had noticed you looking at him out of the corner of your eye the past minute and decided to give you a bit of a show. He knew exactly what he was doing, the exercise showing off his strength and stamina at once and every once in a while you swore you could hear him grunt softly. Was the training he was doing now really that demanding? Absolutely not, but he loves messing with you.

‘Y/N WHY AREN’T YOU OUT YET?’ you hear Charles scream at you. Once again you got caught not paying attention. The cat excuse can’t be used again because he just left, as you had told them.

‘I am waiting for the track to dry to do a quick lap!’ you defend, frantically looking around the screen to see how much time was left in Q2. Shit. Too late. Even if you would go out now there would be no time for a timed lap. This meant you were to start from p15.

‘Maybe if you’d kept your eyes on the game you would have made Q3’ Pierre says wriggling his eyebrows at you from your second screen.

You just groan and throw your head back in your game chair out of frustration. To your right Fernando has now stopped his exercise and has started stretching. There was no way he needed to stretch like that at this moment. Such a tease.

The sound of racing resumes in your headphones, meaning Q3 has started. You redirected your eyes to the screen once more. All the boys were focussed on their laps. Even though it was just online racing no one wanted to lose, not even a pole position. Your eyes were unfocussed on the screen while your mind went to the sight you had just seen. Your incredibly handsome boyfriend doing his very best to distract you by doing his most low-effort training just to give you a show. And it had worked. You subconsciously clench your thighs together to relieve some of the pressure that was slowly starting to build. Maybe you should just give up on trying to refocus on the game and concede to Fernando’s tactics.

You blink your eyes trying to refocus when you hear Fernando softly clear his throat nearby. Apparently he had moved to right next to your computer, arms crossed across his chest and an amused look on his face.

‘Did you want to join me in the shower or no?’ he asks in a thick Spanish accent.

You quickly turn off the camera and mute yourself, staying in the stream but being clearly absent. You move the headphones off your ears and place them on your shoulders.

‘I swear the guys know something is up, I can’t keep making up fake pets to excuse myself Fernando!’ you laugh at the idea.

‘Then tell them.’ He retorts with a smile.

‘What?’

‘It has been months, mi amor, I think it is time they found out. No?’

He was right. You would have to tell them sooner or later… and maybe about now would be a good time.

‘Alright… I will.’ You say, standing up and placing one hand on his sweaty chest and one on the back of his muscled neck. His hands land on your waist, pulling you in closer and leaning in to place his lips on yours. How he always managed to take your breath away completely you would never know. The only thing you did know is that the sensation of Fernando, from his hands roaming your back to his mouth hungrily claiming yours, was engulfing you completely.

His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, biting down on your pulse point. Sparks of pleasure were already soaring though your body at his touch. You scratch your nails down his toned chest as response, enjoying the way his muscles jumped under your touch and how he shivered slightly when you put a but more pressure behind your touch. Fernando’s hands slide down your sides so they could creep up again but under your shirt. While his hands roam your skin under your shirt he walks the two of you back in your room, his mouth never leaving your neck.

You feel the floor under your feet disappear under the yoga mat that was still laying on the floor, very classy. Not that you would ever admit it out loud, but you loved it when Fernando got all sweaty. It reminded you of times when after a race he would come to you to either unwind or celebrate, depending how the race went. You felt Fernando hitch your shirt up, trying to get more access to your body. He pulls away from your neck to allow you to take off the fabric of your shirt and then your bra, leaving you in just your sweatpants just like him. You pull him closer by his neck, feeling his muscles tighten at your touch as he pulls you closer by your waist, connecting your bare chest to his. The skin-on-skin contact felt amazing, but you craved more. You feel his cock harden against your front when he deepens the kiss to dominate your tongue with his. Ever the control freak.

But you take him by surprise when you pull back suddenly. At first, he looks at you, searching your eyes for any sign he had done something wrong. And then you quickly drop to your knees in front of him and pull his sweatpants loose and down in one swift motion. Before he had any time to object or scold you for risking damaging your knees you pull his boxers down and take his cock in your hand. Fernando lets his head fall back with a moan at the relatively sudden contact. Where just a few moments ago his cock was just getting hard, you could now see the pre-cum already glistening at the tip while you spit in your hand and start pumping him slowly but with enough pressure to make his breath hitch and his head snap forward to look down at you. You look up at him while innocently batting your eyelashes.

‘Don’t tease.’ He breathes out as you keep your slow pace a bit too slow for his liking.

‘I thought you liked teasing?’ you retort, he lets out a snort.

‘Not when I’m on the receiving end.’ He says whilst weaving a hand through your hair. You take the hint and move one hand to his muscular thigh to steady yourself while the other moves to the base of his length so you can put his tip in your mouth. He lets out a sigh of relief at the feeling of your warm mouth where he needs you the most. You move your head down his length and take him as deep as you could without gagging and stroke what was left of his cock with your hand. Almost immediately you set a quick pace, just how he likes it. His hand in still in your hair to keep you from slowing down just in case you wanted to tease him again. He was always in control, and you knew it.

Fernando’s breathing grew more and more ragged while you worked him towards his release, the sheet of sweat already adorning his body only growing more and more obvious. Then you hear his breathing deepen and you feel his hand on your head tighten in grip, he was getting closer. With all the willpower you had you took him even deeper in your mouth, fighting your gag reflex for all you were worth. When you looked up into his eyes and he looked back he lost it. The tears welling in your eyes from almost gagging made your eyes look even more pretty in his mind.

‘Fuck…’ he breathes, followed by a string of Spanish curse words. Then you moved your head one more time up and down his shaft, this time taking him all the way in, so the tip hit the back of your throat. The look he gave you was enough to fight your reflexes for a bit longer, the need for air completely forgotten as he moans out your name and the muscles in his abdomen start to spasm as he comes in your mouth.

He moves his hips a bit back when he starts coming down from his high, giving you a chance to swallow down his seed and then breathe in a gasp of air that refilled your lungs, which had rarely ever felt so empty. Fernando stepped out of his pants, which had pooled around his ankles by now, and threw them towards the laundry bin. The pleasure that was building in your abdomen was a lot to handle, your clit begging to be touched and your cunt begging to be filled. But as you watch Fernando walk towards the shower you think maybe he is just going to clean up now, so you stand up and sit back down on your game chair, grabbing your shirt from the floor and placing it on your desk.

You eye the computer screen for a minute, your webcam was still just a black screen and the microphone was still muted, thank God. Just before you could see how the race was going however your chair was spun around quickly, and Fernando was now looming over you.

‘I’m not done with you yet, mi amor.’

Before you had any chance to answer his lips are back on yours, his tongue once again entering your mouth not caring about tasting himself on you. Now your fingers wound through his hair when one of his hands moves to harshly pinch one of your nipples. You pull back from the kiss to try and catch your breath, letting out more moans when he continues to tease your nipple with his hand. His head moves down to catch the other nipple in his mouth, and you can feel him smile when you let out a rather loud moan when his tongue flicks at it. You head falls back against the chair as you relish in the pleasure he makes you feel. His mouth stays on your chest and his hands move down to your pants, tapping your thigh to let you know to lift your hips so he can pull your pants off. You oblige and the clothes are thrown onto the pile Fernando had started earlier with his clothes.

Then his kisses move down from your chest to your belly, then to your waist. You sit low in the chair to give him the best access possible. You close your eyes when you feel his hot breath close to where you need him, but just not there yet. The anticipation is murder. then you feel two thick fingers suddenly moving through your slit, collecting your juices, swirling them around your clit and then moving back down to your entrance, slowly penetrating you. Your mouth falls open in a moan.

‘Fernando…’ is all you get out when you get interrupted by him placing a wet kiss to your clit. But he moves his head right back again while he slowly fingers you.

‘What do you want, Y/n?’ he asks.

‘Don’t tease…’ you plead; your eyes go down to a sight to behold. Fernando is looking at you with a soft smile, his head between your legs and his fingers slowly moving in and out of you.

‘But you know I like teasing you, no?’ he asks with a mischievous smile. Fucking hell.

‘Fuck, I need you...’ you try.

‘What do you want?’ he asks, knowing fully well what you need, but he loves to hear you say it.

‘Fernando please, make me cum?’ you half tell him, half ask him. You didn’t want it to sound like begging, but the tone of your voice gave you away anyways.

‘It would be my pleasure.’ He says and then his mouth is on you. you close your eyes at the intense feeling as his tongue circles your clit expertly and his fingers start picking up the pace.

‘You’re so wet for me.’ Fernando remarks. He always manages to make you blush, no matter how many times his head was in between your thighs. You grip the armrest of the chair tightly, your body chasing the building tension in your core. The room is filled with the wet noises of Fernando quickly pumping his fingers in and out of you while his tongue is attacking your clit like a last meal. His pace is brutal, and you knew you wouldn’t last long like this. The pressure in your belly slowly building, tightening until it started to spread though your entire body.

‘Fuck, Fernando, I’m, I, fuuuuck.’ Is all you manage to say and he just smirks, whispering a soft ‘cum for me then’ against your clit followed by some Spanish praise words and you were done for. Fernando’s other hand was holding you down while he worked you through your orgasm. It took you longer to regain your breath than you were proud of, shockwaves of your orgasms being kept up by Fernando still softly sucking your clit and slowly pumping his fingers in you.

When you finally got to open your eyes again and see your room and not just stars, Fernando reached behind you to a pack of tissues which he must have gotten earlier when he left the room. As the gentleman he is, he cleans you up nicely and gets you some other pants to wear. You put on your shirt again and check the computer screen.

There must have been around 30 missed messages from the boys in your private chat of them trying to get your attention back.

Fuck

The game

You try to fix your hair as best as possible and arrange your shirt like it was before you would restart your camera and microphone.

‘Heeeyyyy guys I’m back!’ you say in a chipper tone, trying to hide all the evidence of what had just occurred while also making sure Fernando would hear you were back on the stream.

‘Jeeeezus Y/n, what took you so long? We’ve been waiting for like 15 minutes!’ Charles remarked.

That long? Oops.

‘Yeah sorry, I was just... running some errands’ you lie. Another terrible excuse.

‘Yoooo Y/n! What is that on your neck?’ Lando was kind enough to comment on the bruise slowly forming on the side of your neck, as was the whole chat of the twitch stream it seems.

How were you going to talk yourself out of that one?

Or just tell them the truth…

You never had to decide what to do, because at that moment Fernando moved into the back of your camera, redressed, and still trying to fix his own hair. He walked into the camera frame, tilted your head to give you a kiss, then moved your mic towards the side to say, ‘Hi guys!’ and then he left the room, shouting something about groceries. The boys on your second computer screen looked shocked at first, but quickly they all burst out laughing, and you swore you could hear Pierre scream ‘I knew it!’ before the chat exploded.

#Fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #f1 fanfic #smut #charles leclerc #lando norris #pierre gasly #my post

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fushipurro · 5 months ago

Text

Red Lights Red Flags

Chapter 10 - Haunting

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☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, mentions of past assault, foreplay (f. receiving)

☆ Word Count: 4.6k

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Toji’s sudden appearance startles you, and slowly, you turn to his position with a coy smile. The disappointment is more than apparent through his features. His arms are crossed, and he has that same disgruntled look as he had yesterday and the day before when he caught you exactly like this ─ sweeping away.

“You know you should be resting,” he says, and you know in your heart he’s right, but you don’t want to admit it.

“I know.” You sigh as you lean your chin over the top of the broom’s handle. “I am trying, but it doesn’t feel right for me to sit around and do nothing.” After spending nearly your entire life doing chores or familial duties, you can’t help but feel antsy the moment you get some peace to yourself.

He shrugs, arguing, “This place is abandoned, no one will care about a little dust.”

“I care.” You frown at the man, narrowing your eyes. “Shrines are a place of worship, and if we’re going to be here for a while, then I want to show that respect and appreciation.”

“Even if it’s going to be dirtied the moment we leave?”

“Even then,” you say with determination, although in Toji’s eyes ─ it’s stubbornness. Either way, he doesn’t seem all that appeased by your response judging by how his brows crinkle more than before, but really, you feel fine for the most part.

You won’t lie, it’s not the most comforting of tasks for your healing bones, but compared to the labor Toji’s been putting in, sweeping is nothing. Every day, he’s out there hunting, always coming back with fresh game and whatever ripened fruit he can find. Out here, far from any village, it’s given you the feeling that you and Toji are all that make up the world. It’s peaceful, even if this shrine can be… creepy.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Your voice is quiet as you ask, already afraid from how odd of a question it is to ask out of the blue. You don’t look him in the eyes as you wait, sparing yourself from whatever look he may have for you now.

“What makes you say that?” He responds, almost sounding more concerned than anything if you had to guess, and hopefully not for the reasons you’re already assuming.

“It’s probably nothing,” you say.

“Or it could be something,” Toji says without missing a beat. He moves to lean his back against one of the walls, his arms still crossed into his sleeves. “Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

If it were that easy, you would’ve brought it up the first time it happened, but here you are mulling over what you’ll say next in your head. Crazy isn’t exactly the best look to have.

“It’s just… ever since we got here, I’ve– had a weird feeling is all,” you tell him, now anxiously tapping away against the broom’s wooden handle.

“A feeling?”

“Okay,” you drawl like you’re sighing. “Maybe some things have been happening that I can’t quite explain.”

“Like what?” he asks, mirroring your tone.

It’s obvious he wants you to get on with it, despite the better part of you that believes it’s all in your head. But you may as well stop trying to hold back; at least if it does turn out you’re crazy, you’re in a shrine along with a dozen strange tools lying around in waiting. One of them must be used for exorcisms, right?

“Well for starters, remember that pile of bones we found in sanctuary?”

A pile is putting it lightly.

What you found on your second day here was akin to a hill with a throne stuck on top. You and Toji had been exploring the shrine to see what supplies you could scrounge up, neither of you expecting to find a sight so unsettling. It was obvious ─ even to you ─ where most of those bones had originated from. That is ─ people.

And that was only the beginning of the strange happenings.

He huffs, making light of it the memory with an air of amusement. “How could I forget?”

“Well, I was doing some cleaning in that room, and when I touched one of the bones…” You pause, looking down at your hands. “I saw… something ─ almost like a memory. I’m not sure how to explain it, but it happened so fast that I don’t remember much of anything except red.”

“Red?” he deadpans.

“See?” You sigh. “It’s probably my imagination is all, or I’m going crazy…” Your words shrink by the end along with your form.

“Stop that,” he scolds in a low, warning tone. “If what you say happened, then I believe you. You’re not going insane, but I do think you need to rest more.”

“It’s hard though,” you whine. “Every time I close my eyes, I swear I see those same four red eyes watching me.”

Toji’s reply falls flat in his throat, so you take it upon yourself to continue, hoping to alleviate the pressure.

“I feel like the more I keep myself busy, the less frightening it is at night?” you muse out loud. You’ve begun telling yourself that those eyes belong to the spirit of the shrine itself, or whatever it was built to enshrine. The more you take care of its domain, the more it’ll leave you alone ─ a give and take sort of relationship with this unknown being.

It doesn’t help your mind when on the same day you discovered the bone pile, you also had uncovered a library full of scrolls depicting “curses” and other fantastical elements you’d find only in folk tales and myth.

Of the ones you read, they appear more like the ramblings of cultists or crazies rather than priests of the common practice. Nothing so much as close to resembling the bedtime stories you grew up with.

“I don’t know… do you think this place could be haunted maybe?” you ask.

Toji suddenly steals the broom right out of from under your hands. You go to reach for it back, but he stops you using his free hand, raising the broom higher than you’re able to reach.

“I think you need to go and take a breather while I do the rest of the cleaning,” he declares.

“But Toji–“

“Aht aht, don’t argue,” he says, pointing his finger in front of your face. “There’s fresh fruit in the kitchen, so go eat and then find somewhere to lay down.”

“Fine, but don’t forget–“

“To water all the plants before the sun gets too high; I’ve got it,” he drones, giving you that cocky smile that takes all your frustrations away.

You take your leave, but not without stealing a few ─ or several ─ glances at Toji. He’s right in that you need this time to heal and move forward, especially with how close you came to crumbling the day you both arrived here. It won’t be an easy recovery, and all the labor you find yourself doing has helped you to not think about it. Whether you like it or not, you’re going to have face your trauma head on to come out on top. And at the end of the day, there’s one key factor that remains.

You’re free now.

There’s no one here to hurt you, to punish, or leave you at their mercy. You have the world again ─ more now than ever thanks to Toji. He was your friend first and now your savior, and where you go from here is up to you to decide.

It’s clear when you arrive at the kitchen that Toji’s hunt must’ve gone well. Seeing the abundance of fruit ─ some already cut and prepared ─ you throw a few pieces into your mouth, savoring the flavors while putting together a second plate. This one will be given as an offering to whatever spirits inhabit this shrine, in hopes the kind gesture rewards you with some peace of mind.

Maybe then, you’ll be able to sleep for an entire night or walk alone in the halls without hearing what sounds like men and women crying out in agony.

…you left Toji in the dark on that detail.

The evening hours are when the shrine is at its best ─ when the setting sun filters between leaves, bringing out the rich red tones of the architecture. The cherry blossoms take on an orange hue, resonating with the fire-like atmosphere. After nearly being burned alive, this is the closest you’ve been able to get to an actual flame without reliving the fear you had felt. That day and those red eyes are all you’ve been able to see, haunting you even in your sleep.

Right now, you’re on your way to a hot spring formation near the back of the shrine.

It sits in a lovely spot away from it all, hidden behind trees and bamboo alike. The view from it overlooks what feels like the whole of Japan. It’s a breathtaking sight, one that reminds you how small your existence is compared to the world around you.

Following the rocky pathway up to the spring, you immediately spot Toji resting inside, his back leaning against the edge. He turns his head at your arrival, a smirk playing across his lips.

“I was wonderin’ where you were, you get lost on the way here?”

After finishing dinner together earlier, you had planned on being the first to bathe, with Toji following up after. It appears your golden hour scenic route lasted longer than you anticipated if he made it here first.

“Sorry, I can come back later,” you offer, but he shakes his head.

“Nonsense, the bath’s big enough for two or… fifty, at least,” he muses, and rightfully so. It’s a spa big enough for the mightiest king to bask in, or even the gods themselves.

Toji turns his head away, giving you the privacy to slip from your robe and undo each of your bandages. You start with dipping your toes into the water first, feeling a shiver come over you from the vast difference in warmth from the surrounding air. But as you try to step further down, you lose your footing on one of the rocks, unable to register fast enough what’s happening as the world spins around you.

“Easy there,” Toji says, and only then do you realize he caught you from falling. His arms rest on either side of yours, steadying you as he sets you down into the water at his side. “These rocks are slippery as hell.”

You wish he said something earlier, but better late than never, you guess.

Hopefully he didn’t see much either of your form, but the likelihood of that is almost nonexistent.

“Thanks…” you mutter, taking a seat close to him, with an audible sound of pain as you get comfortable.

“How’s your chest?” he asks, your head snapping to the side.

“My chest!?” you respond with more eagerness than intended ─ to which, he smiles, with that typical smug expression.

“Your ribs,” he corrects. “How are your injuries lookin’?”

“O-oh.” You sink deeper into the spring to hide your vivid flush, the warmth doing wonders already for your wounds. “Well, everything’s still sore, but it’s not as bad as when we got here,” you tell him.

“You’d feel better if you rested more and quit acting like some servant,” he says, teasing as much as he is scolding.

“I like to clean, thank you very much.” He rolls his eyes at your playful reply. “As scary as this place is, it’s still a shrine and a beautiful one at that.”

The art, the view, the incredible poetry you found in the master bedroom…

There’s beauty in the madness of it all once you look past the rough, boney exterior. Even if you’re only here for a short time, you want to do your part in preserving its unique history.

“You’ve always been that way, haven’t you?” Toji comments.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m saying, that when we met, I was nothing but a cold, bratty kid and yet you still came running.”

“I didn’t think you were mean,” you argue, his negativity making you frown. “You let me play with your sword and hung out with me those other times. I never thought of you as anything but nice.”

Toji scoffs amusingly. “You’re still referring to my training as play?”

“Well, we were just two kids playing together in a park.”

“And now we’re two adults sitting naked in a bath together,” he chuckles, “Time’s changed, hasn’t it?”

The silence that overtakes is nearly deafening, a reminder of the situation you’re in ─ both naked, and with only a foot of distance to spare. While it’s frightening to you, you can’t help butfeel nervous among other feelings stirred up from the heat.

You remind yourself in your head that this is Toji.

Toji, the man you’ve always felt safe to be around, even in your most vulnerable state. He’s the same person who has never sought to harm you on purpose, or for pleasure. The same person you trust your life to with all your heart.

He saved you, didn’t he? Freed you from your shackles, whisked you off into a land unknown… You’ve never had to doubt your safety so long as he’s at your side.

With all that in mind, you don’t feel afraid when you ask, “Have you cleaned yourself yet?” You glance back and forth between his side and moon’s reflection in the spring as you do.

Its height in the sky shows just how long it’s been since you entered, making the water appear as though it’s ablaze with silvery light among droplets of a thousand stars. Their brilliance is no longer clouded by iron bars or a red lantern’s glow.

An annoying grin creeps up over his face, the kind you know aims to tease. “Why, you offering?” He asks, lowering his head until he’s the only object within your view.

“Maybe I am,” you tell him, watching as that same smile widens at your declaration.

“Had you shown up sooner, I might’ve let you ─ but I’m already clean.” He stretches his arm back, reaching into a bucket resting along the edge of the spring. From it, he pulls out a white cloth, one with fragments of herbs rubbed into the fibers. “So why don’t you let me help you instead?”

Toji wets the cloth before bringing it to your face, gently smoothing the fabric across your cheeks and down to your chin. You wonder in the moment if it’s truly just the water making you feel so heated. But with nowhere else to look but his face, you let yourself become mesmerized by the subtle green hues, and the same silvery light of the moon reflecting back.

Would things have turned out differently had you recognized him sooner?

It’s one question you have that you’ll never know the answer to.

For all you know, he could’ve saved you the night you met, but die trying to escape. Or perhaps you did manage to escape, only to later find out your family paid the price. Your greatest fear of Hanami’s revenge, a reality in that path. In a way, the fire that ravaged the district could almost be described as a blessing as much as a curse.

It left your existence a question, one buried beneath layers of ash and rubble. All the pain and self-sacrifice that eventually ended in flames became the start for something entirely new, like seeds sprouting from a forest ravaged in an inferno.

He moves the cloth down your neck, his touch soft as ever, as if any harshness would cause you to crack. One hand steadies the opposite side, cradling your head and with the slightest back and forth motion of his thumb that does little to calm the familiar heat building in your core.

Your eyes drift to the scar marring his lip, the one difference in his face from the Toji you knew before.

“When did that happen?” You feel the hand holding your head tense, the glow in his eyes seeming to fade as they narrow into a look of scorn. A look that makes you regret bringing it up. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ha–“

“It’s fine,” he interrupts, softening his stare as he moves the cloth back under the water, wetting it once more to clean your arms now. For a while, his eyes focus only on the task in front of him, a silence hovering all the same as before. The emotions felt now however, are that much different.

“My family.” He stops himself short, kissing his teeth. “The Zenin Clan–” he corrects, “are the reason for this, years ago.”

A memory comes to you of one snowy day in particular ─ the last time you had seen Toji before your life went to hell.

“Was that why you wouldn’t let me look at you?”

“Smart girl,” he praises, with the makings of a smile heard in his voice, something you can tell despite your back now turned to him. You feel his hands gliding down your spine and across your shoulders.

“It was time for me to man up and stop fooling around,” he starts, a spiteful flare to his words. “’We’re a family of proud warriors, so act like one,’ was what they told me, and the next thing I knew, I was on the battlefield fighting to survive.”

You know of the war he’s referring to ─ one from around that wintery time when the Shogun, Saga Tsukumo, had risen to power. The battle took many lives, with the Zenin clan taking pride in the victory they claimed was their doing.

Now you know why.

“Toji, I’m so sorry.”

“I guess we both share similar scars now.” As he speaks, you feel the cloth trailing down your side, hovering over the same ribs Jinichi had fractured. Then suddenly, his arms ─ wrapping tight above your chest ─ pull you flush against his body.

“’m sorry,” he muffles against your shoulder alongside a whisper of your name. “I never wanted you to get hurt, ever,” he says, those last words laced with pain and regret. You’ve never seen Toji act so vulnerable in your life before, but for good reasoning.

This freedom you found together is as much of his as it is yours. For you, it’s freedom from suffering in a life you never asked to be a part of. For him, it’s freedom from the family that never asked for him, wanting no parts of him in their life anymore.

You lift your hands up, placing them over his wrists. A quiet response, one that hopefully shows him that it’s okay, and that you want him here, close to you. It’s obvious now you aren’t the only one with those questions in mind ─ about how life would be if the past were done different. As agonizing as it was to live through, you managed to make it out in one piece, together.

“Toji…” You turn your head to the side, your nose brushing up against strands of his hair. “I could never blame you for what happened to me, never. I trusted you then, now, and even when I had no idea it was you at my side again.”

A quiet moment goes by before you raise your voice again, “Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”

“I was scared,” he tells you. He feels foolish for even saying such meek words. A once infamous samurai of noble birth, reducing himself to feelings of fright. On any battlefield, such words are grounds for a knife in your stomach, and a sword at your neck. “You already didn’t recognize me; I didn’t want you see me as anything other than the boy you once knew.”

A monster is what he wants to say. That or the other namesakes he’s been called since birth. Titles and epithets you’ve always looked beyond with childish glee. But even now as an adult, you still look at him with the same stars in your eyes.

“I think we’re a little past that, aren’t we?” Your comment has Toji raising his eyes ─ lightly glossed over ─ to meet yours, attempting to decipher the meaning behind your words.

It soon dawns on him the moment your gaze falls to his lips, this time with a new emotion. He doesn’t have to ask to know what’s on your mind now, with the thought of that New Year’s night coming back to him all the same.

“You’re right,” he mumbles, closing the gap between your faces that much more. “How could I have almost forgot?”

That smug expression of his is felt even when his lips are on yours, his eyes closing to savor the moment and the taste of you on his tongue. Your body flutters, spiking your arousal like the turning of a knob on an oil lantern. The fire of your heart’s desire flickering in full, dancing to the beat of his own.

Only he can make you feel this way ─ so heightened with desire, and a longing to be close. Here at this shrine, there’s no mystery, no need to be silent to avoid being found. It’s just you and Toji, in your own corner of the world. That’s why you find it easy to sink into his touch, showing him with fervent grace that this is everything you want, when it’s obvious he’s still holding back.

He’s playing it safe by moving with caution, all to ensure you’re comfortable with the escalating situation. It’s unlike those who have harmed you, deriving their pleasure without a care for your own consent, but as always ─ this is Toji.

It’s your choice if you want this to continue, and you don’t think you’ve ever had a more easier decision to make. With the way your body is angled to meet his lips, it’s all too easy to slide one hand down his chest, inching closer to–

“Don’t,” he warns, breaking from the kiss with half-lidded eyes.

“But–“

“You can have at it another time,” he says, cutting you off. “Let me take care of you tonight, okay? Would you like that?”

“Please, Toji.”

That’s all he needed to hear before lifting your body up and onto one of his thighs, using the thickness of it to keep your legs parted.

“That’s it,” he murmurs against your ear as you relax against his body, one hand firm around your torso in the valley your chest, and the other ─ gliding along your inner thigh. “Just relax and I’ll make you feel real good, hun.”

The sensation of his fingers between your folds has you gasping, and no sooner are his lips on you again, swallowing every sound made when he pushes inside with one finger to start. The rough, calloused texture can be felt even with the water distorting your senses.

You move to grasp his body as a means of steadying yourself. Fingers curling inwards, scratching at his arms to relieve the rising pressure in your body.

He moves to add a second finger, and that alone has you feeling the burning stretch of it. On instinct you try and close your legs, but Toji won’t allow it. He bounces his leg up, reminding you that it’s there to keep you widened for his hand.

As he breaks from the kiss he chuckles. “Don’t go getting all shy on me now.” He compliments his teasing words by curling his fingers from the inside.

“Toji!” Your attempt to scold him comes off as moaning cry instead, but with the way you’re squirming, he knows it’s merely a faux frustration.

“Fuck,” he groans, kissing you with a bit more roughness to it. “If I knew my name sounded so pretty coming from this mouth of yours, I’d have told you it the day we first met.”

He returns to kissing you, lips traveling from your face to the side of your neck. This way, you’re free to shout his name as the palm of his hand comes over your clit. It has same calloused texture as his fingertips, providing everything your body needs right now.

These hands seeking to pleasure you are a stark contrast from the same hands that have killed in your name. It doesn’t matter that world paints him to be a monster, because all you’ve ever seen was and is Toji himself.

And even as he pushes you to your high ─ he remains gentle as could be, holding you perfectly so no pain can be felt. His fingers continue to press against all those sweet spots that have you seeing stars different from the ones hanging overhead.

“Let go for me,” he says along with your name; a whisper that pushes you over the edge of glory. Waves of euphoria crash over you, twisting your mind and body as much as you can handle to completion.

You don’t remember a time you’ve ever felt so good in this depraved state, even while coming off your high. Feeling Toji’s sultry breath against your neck is almost enough to have you ready for more, if only you weren’t so dizzy all at once.

Your name is a blur against your ear as you shut your eyes to the feeling, your body falling slack in his arms. A coldness then settles over you a moment after, stirring you from that darkening feeling.

“…Toji?” Your voice is a murmur clouded with exhaustion.

“Shh, I got you,” he says back to you. You fight your eyes weighing heavy to keep them open, realizing now that you’re cradled in his arms on route back to the shrine.

“What happened?” you quietly ask, bringing a trembling hand to your forehead.

“Spent a little too long in the spring, I’d say. How’re feelin’?”

“Okay, I guess,” you reply breathlessly.

“Just okay?” He clicks his tongue a few times, showing off a toothy grin. “I think I kept my word; don’t you agree?”

You smile, although it’s weak as you reply, “Yes ─ yes you did,” chuckling in between.

Putting aside how it ended, this was a night you’ll never forget for as long as you live, and it certainly won’t be the last of moments like these.

Toji brings you into the same servant room you’ve been sleeping in together since your arrival. The idea of taking over the master bedroom was appealing at first, but something deep down told you it wouldn’t be a good idea, and thankfully, Toji agreed.

As he places you down under the covers of the futon, you find yourself no longer caring over the lack of clothing before him. After what all just went down, your previous nerves are no longer there, replaced by your trust in him.

“How about I get you some fruit, huh? That’ll fix you right up,” he offers, turning to leave.

“Sure,” you respond, but before he gets too far, you remember the offering you laid aside. “Oh, but don’t touch the plate I left to the side, please.”

He turns halfway out the door with a look of confusion. “You savin’ it for later or something?”

“It’s for the ghosts,” you tell him, too out of it to mind your words, no matter how odd it sounds.

Toji lets out an amused sound before sliding the door shut. In truth, he doesn’t know what all to think or say for the experiences you’ve had.

He’s certain that if there was something nearby, he’d know about it and would have it taken care of without you noticing… but there’s nothing. It’s only been you and him since the day you arrived.

And yet, that still doesn’t explain why he finds the offering dish without any trace of fruit.

☆ Notes: question is, are these really ghosts or something more? We’ve reached a turning point with everything, so enjoy it while it lasts tehe. I hope the smut was worth it though, I’m worried it was too short but do you really need a lot for a fingering scene? Idfk

☆ Taglist: @fandomtrash5092 @catmania-choco @tojisfantasy

#jjk #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jjk toji #toji zenin #jjk au #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x female reader #toji x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #ronin!toji #courtesan!reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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petite-cherry-blossom · 11 months ago

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My personal Weatherman – Taikan Yohou

The main characters – Segasaki and Yoh.

I'll disclaim in advance that there will be no plot in this dorama, but that is the beauty of it.

Segasaki is a weather presenter and Yoh draws eromanga. They met at university and fate has brought them together ever since.

Yoh has no money to pay the rent, so Sagasaki offers him a place to live together, but in return Yoh has to agree to everything they ask him to do.

For me personally, it's a little bit of a red flag (Segasaki can easily forbid Yoh to meet his friend in a cafe, and Yoh just has to accept it). I'll be honest, this relationship is weird, and in real life Segasaki is the kind of guy who should be fucked off, not even his godlike beauty could save him.

As I mentioned before, the eight episodes revolve around the relationship between the two main characters, we are included in all of Yoh's thoughts the whole time, the narration is almost all from his point of view.

Nevertheless, their chemistry is visible even to the naked eye, which is not surprising: the first thing they did when they moved in together was hook up. There is a peculiar problem built around this too, as Segasaki decided that they would only have sex before sunny days. Why?

It's a question that everyone was curious about, and the answer is pretty prosaic. Everything revolves around the weather (it's not for nothing that one of the main characters is a meteorologist).

– Hey. Why can’t we do it when it rains?

– Huh? Because you said so. When you first moved here and we did it.

– Huh?

– So you won’t have trouble with laundry.

I think I've rewatched it about eight times. It's hard for me to explain, but I was touched by literally every action, every look, every touch and misunderstanding.

Of course, Yoh had no idea that he was not just a servant to Segasaki, but the most precious person to him. And Segasaki is not good at using words, which is why we were stuck in the same place for a very long time.

But every interaction they had, the painfully ridiculous date, the dialogues - it all made my heart ache. It clearly states in black and white: Yoh fell first, but Segasaki fell harder.

Fanfact: when rewatching, I decided to start not from the beginning, but from the middle (first from the fifth series to the eighth, and then from the first to the fifth). And I was right! Exactly in the middle we start to be shown flashbacks of the characters' meeting, to which very nice and interesting references were made in the first episodes. Of course, when watching them for the first time, it is easy to just not notice them. So my idea was not as stupid as I thought at first.

– Put this in some Tupperware. I’ll eat it all. You’d better not eat any. This is mine.

I’m the only one who has to know that this carry tastes bad. He did the best to make it. That made me happy. That fact is all I need.

I'm very sensitive to this work, it deservedly became one of my favourites, because despite the simplicity of the plot, the characters are incredibly natural and beautiful in their "ordinaryness".

Yoh is a master of making things up (just like me), Segasaki is a expert at hiding his feelings and thoughts, he is sure that everything is clear to everyone (I can see your thoughts in the subtitles, you idiot. But Yoh can't read minds). As a result, Yoh didn't know they were dating for quite a while, when for Segasaki their relationship was obvious.

There aren't many characters in this dorama, but there's no need for them. We do fine with two goofballs who can't figure out the nature of their feelings until the last minute, while being stubbornly jealous of each other.

#bl series #bl drama #my personal weatherman #taikan yohou #segasaki mizuki #segasaki x yoh #tanada yoh #japanese bl #japan

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sadceline · 2 months ago

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THE ENHYPEN HOST || 18

|| Reverse harem || ft. TXT, Mingyu (Seventeen) & BTS

WARNINGS: foul language, explicit content, group sex, humiliation, sex in public, threesome, foursoome, rough sex, red flags, immoral acts, unprotected sex, morbid jealousy, comedy, parody, possessiveness, violent quarrels, arguments, betrayals, lies, femdom sometimes.

GENRE: +18, reverse harem, comedy, enemy to lovers, friends to lovers

TRAILER 1

TRAILER 2

TRAILER 3

PREVIOUS CHAPTER:

FIRST CHAPTER:

I can't tell if they are serious or just recently abusing some strong drug, I hope not, though....

Joke.

I had understood seeing Amanda a few nights ago when the hyung TXT had come, that she is indeed breathtakingly beautiful, a natural beauty that is hard to find in this environment. And so far I can't blame them.

But to even go so crazy as to put their hands on each other? They never really liked each other, lights out, but getting to that always seemed out of the question.

Is it possible that Hybe didn't predict this or did things like this just never happen? It seems strange to me.

"What are your intentions?" I ask, after entering Heeseung's room, which is the farthest.

"I don't want anyone to put their hands on her - the room's owner blurts out nervously. - This will not continue."

"Are you sure she would choose you?" Sunghoon sneers.

"That's not the point. - I snort. - And anyway, yes, should she choose you who do nothing but humiliate her? You're a sadistic pervert.... I had no idea."

"Don't you care about Wonyoung?" Heeseung asks him point blank.

Sunghoon doesn't answer right away, twisting his lips annoyed. "It doesn't concern you."

"Don't you have the balls to answer?"

Noticing that tempers have risen again, Heeseung pushes him but Sunghoon does not stagger and returns the push.

As the two insult each other, I hear the front door click: it must be Jay hyung, thankfully. I honestly don't want to hit them, I would end up hurting them a lot, but they keep pissing me off.

Hearing them bickering, Jongseong joins us in Heeseung's room.

"What's going on?" Jay asks, pulling them abruptly away from each other.

The two of them clam up like two children, I sneer annoyed. "Sunghoon locked Amanda in my room, naked, meanwhile he made Wonyoung sit in our apartment and fucked her the whole time. While Wonyoung was showering, I guess, Sunghoon went back to Amanda, well...."

"You brought Wonyoung here! You're deranged and you're also a pervert!" Jongseong raises his voice, furious.

"I didn't invite her, she showed up."

"Right, she ruined your plans with Amanda and that's why you took away her phone." Heeseung continues.

Sunghoon glares at him but does not respond. "How do you know I went back to her?" He asks.

I don't answer; it's not time yet. "Heeseung is just as crazy, he wants to pay Amanda's debt so that she is no longer our host. I've already explained to him why it would be idiot do that but-"

"Pay Amanda's debt? - Jay asks, but he doesn't seem as angry; in fact, he's almost impressed. - Do you like it that much?"

Heeseung does not seem the greatest among us, especially when Jay is around, In fact he lowers his gaze embarrassed but annoyed. "Why shouldn't?"

"He has a fixation on non-famous chicks, so they can't leave him, right? It's like with Sonha." Sunghoon sneers at him.

"It's possible - Heeseung replies honestly, looking at the minor, - but at least I admit it. You like them rich, famous, poor, it makes no difference. Noble, but you can't have them all at once. - Then he approaches and although he didn't seem to have those intentions, he pushes him. - And don't talk about Sonha."

In fact, he shouldn't, not after what he's been through. Heeseung loved Sonha very much, and its not fair to twist the knife, but Sunghoon is so blinded by the idea that Heeseung likes Amanda that he wants to destroy him.

This seems so crazy to me, but yet in a way, I expected it.

Sunghoon is much more competitive and ambitious than he appears, he is a good friend, until you try to override him, this makes him a real monster.

"Forget it, even if she says she wants you... you might as well marry her, she would come back to me."

Heeseung laughs, incredulous. "You are crazy. It's obvious she wants me."

"Because you protect her, you treat her well.... but in the end she can't say no to me. She's not even on your level. She's not worth it."

"You are really disgusting - Jay says. - Why do you talk like that?"

"Especially after what he did with that mouth, to Amanda."

This time to stick the finger in the wound is me. Actually, I've been wanting to say this for a long time, and I'm tired of hearing the usual bullshit that they'll say, anyway, they can't come up with any solution.

"What are you saying!" Sunghoon asks agitatedly.

Heeseung approaches me. "What do you mean?"

"I have cameras in the room. - I explain serenely. - I have a really.... really cute video of Amanda."

"You have cameras in the room?" Jay asks confused.

This time it is Sunghoon who grabs me by the shirt, how dare he? I glare at him but he doesn't give up. "What are you saying? I'm in the video too."

"They got laid then?!" Heeseung asks, who should not be surprised.

"No, not really. - I correct him. - Sunghoon goes out of his way to look tough but then... he just wants Amanda to enjoy, right?"

He almost seems to blush, the idiot, I can't believe it. He abruptly let me go and turns away embarrassed, and offended.

"What do you want to do with the video?" He asks, with his back to me, more serious.

"I'm not talking about that moment... I wouldn't expose you of course. I'm talking about the video... of her touching herself, alone, on my bed."

I have a chill that honestly starts at the tip of my cock, but I try to maintain a dignity. It is obvious that this show has offered me a different view of things... of Amanda.... and she was so cute as she struggled not to moan, while with one hand covering her mouth the other moving fast inside her, legs spread...right toward the camera.

Uh, I need to calm down.

"She was..."

"Yes." I reply to Heeseung.

"What a little bitch." Laughs Sunghoon, smug and probably just as excited, as I think everyone is at this point.

"You have to give me that video." Says the elder, nervous.

"You want the video of her touching herself for me?" Sunghoon continues swaggering.

"They didn't fuck, did they?" His rival ignores him, however, looking at me.

"Fuck, Jungwon... will you get in the way?" Jay scolds me.

"In my room no - I reply to Heeseung - but not sure. As for the video... well, I see no solution."

Sunghoon gives me a dirty look. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to put some rules here, since we've been relying too much on your hormones. - I say, starting to walk cheerfully around the room, looking at Hee's stuff. - You say you both like Amanda, right? Then you should try to protect her."

Jongseong is very concerned, knowing me, he probably fears a headshot. "Don't joke, such a video would ruin her reputation forever."

I nod, he's right. "Just because of that, we could do that if Heeseung and Sunghoon hyung come near her again, then I will release the video." I smile.

They all remain evidently bewildered, the first to lose patience, however, is Sunghoon who seems really pissed off, I'm ready to punch him if he instigates me, Heeseung has already hurt him on the face anyway.

"Give me the phone."

"That's no way to talk your leader." I joke, relentlessly good-humored, though my eyes are sharp.

I see Jay hyung gather his hair behind his forehead, worried, while Heeseung seems to simply stare into the void, upset, or perhaps looking for a nonviolent solution.

"Won, I'm not kidding. This video belongs to me." He says, calming himself down, although he seemed about to attack me (and I'd say that's odd of him - he's never resorted to hands before).

It's usually Heeseung who is the handiest, the most impulsive, not Sunghoon the calm one. "It doesn't belong to you, you harassed her, she was horny. You have no right to the video, I - Hee says, looking at me - I really care about it. I would care, I wouldn't send it to anyone, Jungwon, listen to me."

I shake my head contrite and a little too smug, actually. "I won't send it to anyone either. - I explain. - Of course, as long as you stay away from her."

"I couldn't do it." Heeseung admits.

"Wouldn't it be better to send her away, then?" Sunghoon proposes nervously.

Hee looks at him confused but is unable to say anything.

"Honestly.... just because you guys can't have fun, shouldn't we either?" I ask, smiling as usual.

Hoon doesn't understand, he looks at me puzzled while Heeseung, this time, grabs me by the shirt, it's almost funny to see them react like that. They look like crazy people, and this makes me think a lot.

"We?" Hee asks menacingly.

I nod. "Why, couldn't I?"

Jongseong approaches us, looking at me annoyed. "Are you freaking out today, too?"

"Actually finding her naked while sleeping on my sheets.... well, how should I put it..."

Heeseung tightens his grip further, shaking me. "Is it simply okay for you to cheat on your girlfriend!"

"From what pulpit." Says Jay, nervous, coming to my rescue.

Yeah... Heeseung loved Sonha very much, but he never had a problem cheating on her.

Heeseung evidently feels betrayed by Jay's words, but tries not to let it show, letting go abruptly. Sunghoon sneers, pleased, probably unaware of this backstory.

"Hanni and I have been distant lately. - I explain, even though I shouldn't, but is that i like to piss them off. - We are still together, and I am better than you, but who knows. It could end at any moment."

"Do you want to fuck her too?" Sighs Heeseung.

"Why don't you stay out of it? - Sunghoon proposes, seeming to persuade me gently. - Let's send her away. We'll find another host, you can fuck her all you want."

"Let's pay the debt together. So Hybe doesn't get suspicious, it's not that much money." Heeseung agrees with him, for the first time today, as if they were not beating each other up until recently.

It's cute that they only agree because they want to keep me from fuck Amanda...but to be honest, this only increases the desire I've been trying to suppress these days.

The memory of Amanda, of her legs, of her little lilac dress, tight over her body, over her breasts, showing her stiff nipples resembling two little buttons, has come back several times in these evenings or in moments of boredom. Now that I have seen her naked, touching herself on my bed, with such an erotic expression.... fuck. I don't know if I can contain myself anymore.

I'm sure she wouldn't refuse me.

"Do you agree hyung?" I ask Jay, who looks at me surprised, after all, he didn't think I was serious.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you want Amanda to be completely removed from us because these two idiots fell in love? - I tease them, I know it's not about these kinds of feelings, however, I want them to feel a little pathetic. - We should ask Jae hyung and Niki if they agree. We should also ask Sunoo hyung."

They all look at Jongseong because deep down they also know that whatever comes out of his mouth has a good chance of becoming law.

"I don't think they would agree. Jaeyun likes to fuck Amanda and Niki... I don't even want to think about what they did, I hope nothing - he sighs, concerned - but I mean, I don't know if he would agree. He likes Amanda, it's obvious. He such a snob would never spend time with her for no reason."

Exactly, sending her away is nonsense. And then what would they want to do next? Do they think they can date her normally? The TXTs know who she is; it would not remain a secret for long.

But I know them well, both of them.

Neither of them wants a serious relationship with her, or perhaps, there is a better chance that Sunghoon wants it, since he has never been unfaithful type.

However, in my opinion, both of them only aim to lock her up in some birdcage, letting her live there, just to sod their not-so-noble needs.

They would probably spoil her and maybe not even tire of her in the long run, but she could never be anything other than officially a mistress.

Which is fine because being idols they wouldn't have to date anyone regardless. They could hide her and have her all to themselves but I....no, I don't think that's right.

If her has to be put in a cage, I want to be one of the owners of this cage too.

"You can't keep her here. - Heeseung blurts out, serious. Sunghoon crosses his arms over his chest, displeased. - You can't think I'll keep quiet while you take turns fucking her."

"Why not at the same time? - Cheerful joke, it was just a joke, I didn't expect he would really push me. I guess this is the first time today that I've given such an icy stare. - Hyung, you are older, but don't touch me anymore."

"I'm telling you I care about her, and your answer is 'I want to fuck her too,' you realize that?" Hee raises his voice again.

"That's bullshit." Hoon comments.

I stop smiling. "If you cared you would have used your turn to be alone with her, right? We get that you found your backup Sonha but...I mean, isn't noona beautiful?"

Jay rubs his forehead unnerved. "How can you say you care? She's been here not even five whole days."

"Just because it's only been five days, there's still a chance to get her out of this. - Heeseung explains, looking at Jongseong seriously. - Maybe I don't really care, maybe I don't even like her, but I'm interested in finding out and I don't want to do it while she's being fucked by you."

Jay laughs nervously. "And would you want to date her? I mean, you're just going to ignore the fact that she's been fucked by pretty much everyone? Are you just going to move on and never hold a grudge against her because of that?"

At this point, Heeseung falls silent. Perhaps he is pondering, perhaps he doesn't know what to say, perhaps instead he knows exactly what he would say but prefers to keep quiet.

"I think I could do that." Sunghoon answers for him.

Hee turns toward him. "He wasn't talking to you."

"I can get over it - he smiles amused. - Don't look at me like that."

"You are the most hypocritical person on this fucking planet." Says the older.

Sunghoon shrugs. "Beyond what you think, I have accepted this. I would have already given up if I didn't."

Heeseung looks like he is about to hit him again, but Jay hyung steps in and sighs. "It won't go as you hope. It's just the news, you're not thinking straight."

I shrug as well, hesitant, thinking that after all, even Jongseong after doing with her simply one night, seemed crazy about her - however, since he met that splendor of a woman called Ester, he has drifted away.

Looking at him, it occurs to me that Jay is not disinterested in Amanda for Ester as much as because he does not want to compete or be a part of this most likely dead-end story.

Heeseung believes he can save Amanda, while Sunghoon well aware that this cannot happen, wants to have her all to himself, perhaps precisely because he knows she can never be a normal girl again.

To be honest, it could also be Heeseung's plan, only he himself doesn't realize it.

What I do know for sure, however, is that the situation may become dangerous for the survival of our band. I know this at least as much as I know I want Amanda too.

Of course, it bothers me a lot that just to be able to fuck her sometimes I would have to literally end up in a psychodrama, however... I almost want to, how should I put it: dirty her enough for the two of them to not want her anymore.

On the other hand.. I wonder if it would really do any good.

These are just thoughts.

"Let's talk about it tomorrow." Sunghoon says, suddenly.

Jay looks at him. "Why?"

"You've all had the chance of your shift, now it's my shift, tomorrow we'll find a solution. - He says, then turns to Heeseung but does not smile. - His 24 hours belong to me."

"Do you really want to..." Heeseung is so incredulous that he begins to laugh.

"I have to talk to her - Hoon replies. - I need to apologize and explain to her that you are certainly not the only one who thought of paying her debt."

He does this on purpose, continuing to instigate him.

"Let's do it." Jay hyung replies.

I am not very convinced, but I nod. "That's fine with me."

"So if they haven't fucked yet, will they?" Heeseung laughs nervously.

"If she sleeps with him after calling her bitch-"

"That's not all he said. - Heeseung raises his voice, to Jay who looks at him expressionless. - You all know he didn't just say that."

Sunghoon nods in turn. "Exactly, we have some things to clear up."

"Are you insecure?" I ask Hee hyung, smiling.

"Come on... Jungwon..." Jongseong calls me back.

Heeseung ignores me and looks at Sunghoon. "All right, talk to her. In fact, you know what? Have fun, fuck her good, because this will be the last time you can be alone with her."

He says this, before walking out of his room, leaving us all very confused.

"Heeseung is crazy, but what about you?" Jay asks him, before Sunghoon can follow him outside.

The boy stops, a little regretfully looking at his peer. "I don't know why I want her so much. - Sigh. - But that's it."

"Sunghoon, let's talk about it." Insists Jay.

"You're just trying to convince me to give up so Heeseung can win, right? - He asks, bitterly amused. - It's always been like that, hasn't it?"

"Currently you're the one with an amazing girlfriend, though. You're the one with the most to lose, right?" I tell him.

"I've noticed that, Jungwon. - He replies, annoying me. - But I'm still here discussing this crap with you."

"Ah, I love it when you are yourself. Heeseung hyung flies very high, but you? Do you imitate him?" I laugh to hide my annoyance, unlike Sunghoon, and even Jay doesn't seem particularly amused as much as concerned.

"You just won't let it go, even though you know it's bullshit. You understand that, right?" Jay asks Sunghoon.

The nervous peer leaves the room without deigning us another word.

"Jungwon - calls me Jongseong after a very few seconds that we are left alone. - Listen, I know you wouldn't, but you really have to be careful with that video. It's got saesaeng in it.... you have to be careful. And you have to be careful with her too, you risk really ruining her."

"Don't worry - I sigh, bored by his serious tone, - I'll only use it for me. And our phones are monitored by Hybe, they know who comes in and out of my phone."

"At least delete Sunghoon's recordings."

I snort. "I've already done that. - I explain, he looks like he's about to say something but then turns around looking worried and somber. - Look hyung, but wouldn't you like to see it? It's really a good video. Noona is really..."

hello, do you like the story? i don't know lately it's going pretty bad, i also see people removing like from my post, i'm very sad ---- no kidding, anyway i just always like to leave a little nonsense note, i already prepared 4 more chapters, i just write..... i need help

NEXT CHAPTER:

#enhypen #kpop smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jay #enhypen jungwon #enhypen ff #enhypen fanfiction #enha ff #enha fanfiction #jungwon #heeseung #jongseong #jay #sunghoon

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callmewrinkles3 · 3 months ago

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Hi kiddos. Alex here. I know nobody asked for this but goddamn, I just needed to get it out of my chest and out of my head because today has been bad.

Nobody wants another sad story but there it goes. I was never a sports person until my best friend made me sit in front of our TV to watch twenty guys go around in circles driving fast cars. She spent her childhood watching Fernando race, so I just sat there without understanding shit. We were in deep shit in every single possible way, so I didn't complain about it because she was happy to do it.

It was the worst summer of our lives for too many reasons, but we spent those weekends watching YouTube videos about F1 to cheer ourselves up. It was really really really bad, but for a while that made it better. I can even point to the exact two moments I fell in love with Dan during those days. The first episode of DTS when he says he is a mechanic and the McL*ren snacks video where he had the goddamn Let's fuck ring. It was instant love. That was the moment my brain yelled "Yup, that's my guy". I also remember the first time I saw him. It was during the Hungary GP red flag after Valtteri destroyed everything that moved. I saw Dan standing beside the car looking at the damage and I remember thinking “Goddamn” because it was a mess.

I went from not being a sports fan to absolutely getting obsessed with it and with him. I remember Monza weekend like it was yesterday, grabbing my bestie’s hand after the sprint and saying “NO BUT YOU DONT GET IT” because he wasn’t going to start P3 but P2. I used part of our savings to get that pink shirt because it meant the world that weekend. I used part of my salary to buy an old school yellow Renault Dan shirt with my first job after not working for months thanks to covid. We were the most irresponsible people ever and we spent all our savings buying tickets to the race here in Barcelona the next year because it became my dream to actually see Dan racing in front of me. It was worth every single cent because it was a privilege to see him racing not once but twice.

The thing is, that curly Aussie man brought me the biggest smile on the worst days. He put a smile on my face when probably nothing else could. He gave me some of my biggest happy moments and some of the worst headaches and heartbreaks of the last four years. He even got me the motivation to write again after centuries of not doing it even when I love it probably more than anything else. He gave me my friends because I would never have met them if it wasn’t for our mutual love for him.

Dan is magically was the reason why @honeybadgercomeback appeared at the exact time I needed them the most. Heaven knows this needs a special mention because holyshit I love Ciara so much it's ridiculous. They stood by my side and listened to me cry for hours and stayed there when anxiety kicked me in the ass. They decided to write a whole story with me and create an entire world out of it. It's my pride and joy to do it. They even opened the doors of her family and home when I was about to explode and there aren't enough words to thank you. They're really the Blake to my Dan and heaven knows nobody will ever do it like we do. We have planned the whole thing to watch Austin together at my place next month, and even today they stood by my side when I said I couldn't watch it if Dan's not there. If that's not love then I don't know, kids.

It breaks my heart. I can't explain how badly I cried today about all this mess. The way the press and his own teams have treated him over the last couple of years is unfair. To see him leave like this is unfair. I absolutely hate it, but this is so incredibly unfair and wrong that I just reached the point where I found myself actually saying to myself that I just hope he retires and gets home to his family. I just reached the point where I’m exhausted by the sport I love so much and goddamn I’m not even planning to watch the rest of the races if he is not there. To see him crying in the media pen broke my heart, and I can't. Even then I truly hope this is not the last one. I just want to see him in Austin again. I really want him to have the farewell he deserves.

All this to say goddamn, how I love Daniel. I'm thankful for the last four years of love I got from seeing that lanky man on my TV doing what he loves. He means more to me than I could ever say. I love him more than words can express. He'll always be my guy. He'll always be my baby. God, I would go to the end of the world and to war for that man. Whatever happens next I just hope he is at peace after all this mess, because after fourteen years he bloody deserves it.

#daniel ricciardo

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phoward89 · 9 months ago

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Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.

Masterlist

Chapter 3:

It's been over a week since you started seeing Odysseus and so far everything’s going great. He takes you to work everyday and treats you to lunch. You have dinner with him when he doesn't have business obligations and cuddle with him while watching tv. You haven't spent the night at his place yet, but you've slept with him a few times. And each time the love making was slow, soft, and sensual.

And then one day everything came crashing down.

Tonight's one of those nights where you're not having dinner with Odysseus because he's having dinner with his father and some business clients. It doesn't bother you, Odysseus is the VP of Odair's Luxury Cruises and his father's the CEO; President of it. It's completely normal for him to attend business dinners.

And since the relationship’s new, you don't blame him for not taking you on them. Plus, you work in the marketing department of his father's company, so you understand why he's not taking you to business dinners. It just wouldn't look kosher.

So, that's how you find yourself in some comfy loungewear cooking dinner in your kitchen. Your kitchen that you absolutely loved. You still can't believe what Odysseus did to his kitchen, but to each their own.

As you were chopping up some vegetables, a knock sounded at your door. You weren't expecting Odysseus, since he's at his business dinner, so you're a bit puzzled on who could be at your door. You wondered if you should be rude and ignore whoever was there, but they knocked again.

Sighing, you set your knife down on the counter and left the kitchen. After crossing the main room, you reached your front door. But nothing could've prepared you for what was awaiting you on the other side.

Pulling the door open, you're met with none other than Coriolanus standing at the threshold with a bouquet of red roses, bigger than his head, in his hands.

How the fuck did he get past the doorman?

As if he could read your mind, your platinum haired ex smirked, “I just moved into the top floor penthouse of this building.” Of fucking course he did. “I thought I'd come by and greet my favorite neighbor girl.”

You rolled your eyes and went to slam the door in his face, but he quickly shot his arm out and pushed the door open. Waltzing right by you and inside of your apartment, as if he owned the damn thing, Coriolanus said, “You got your little man whore in here with you? Hmm…is that why you tried to slam the door in my face like I'm some little kid selling cookies?”

“Don't call Odysseus a man whore, Coriolanus.” You chastised your ex while closing your front door. Gesturing to the empty room, you dryly said, “And as you can see, I'm home alone.”

“I'll call Odair a manwhore if I want to, darling. He's fucked half of the Capitol, the way I see it he's a man whore.” Your ex remarked, following right behind you as you went into the kitchen. “Bet he's at one of the sex clubs.”

“No he's not. He's at a business dinner with his father and some clients.” You told Coriolanus, going over to the counter to resume chopping the vegetables.

“And you're home alone? Oh, I see how little he values you.” Your ex dryly chuckled, setting the large bouquet of red roses down on the kitchen island.

“You're one to talk, Coriolanus.” You snapped while he simply took a seat on one of the kitchen island stools.

“I never hid you away when I went to galas and had to attend dinners. I always got you a matching dress and brought you with me. So, my darling rose, I believe I have the right to talk bad about your boy toy's lack of showing you off.”

Pausing in chopping the vegetables, you put your knife down and turned around to look at your ex. “We were never official, so I doubt anyone paid me any mind.”

“Yes, well, it seems that I showed you off more when we weren't official than Odair does.” The platinum blood said as if he was reciting facts from a history book. ‘Oh, and aren't the two of you official?” He asked as a sarcastic afterthought, his brows raised dramatically to drive his remark right thru your heart.

He wanted you to see how he was better for you, how he'll show you off to the world. How he’d done that, show you off, without you realizing it. The aspiring blonde politician wanted you to see how Odair would never include you in his social circles; include you in his business, but he (Coriolanus) would. Hell had included you, which is why he warned you about his engagement with Livia- because he wanted to spare you hurt feelings from thinking it was anything other then a political and a business move.

Unfortunately, you could never view his engagement as an arrangement that was beneficial to his future (yours too since whatever made him rich, powerful, and successful caused him to shower you in gifts) because you loved him. You could only view it as an act of betrayal; one that broke your heart and made you see that you're just not good enough.

Not in the mood to be insulted by Panem's Head Gamemaker, you waggled a finger at him and declared, “Coriolanus, you need to shut up and leave. We haven't been together in a month, so you have no reason to be here.”

“You're my reason to be here, darling.” Coriolanus confessed. Getting up from his seat at the island and closing the distance between you, he admitted, “This last month has been very dull without you in it.”

Of course it has. You doubt that Livia’s letting Coriolanus be dominant and degrading in bed. You also doubt that she'd let him near her ass with that monster dick of his either. Yea…he was missing the sex life you had with him.

Standing right in front of you, the platinum blonde caged you in by placing an arm on either side of you; making your back press against the counter. Coriolanus leaned down, causing the two of you to be nose to nose. “I've given you enough time to cool down, to even have some little fun-” Distain dripped off of the word fun as he spat it out, ‘that I don't approve of, so it's time for us to make up and carry on.”

You could feel his hot breath fanning your face as you told him, “We’re not getting back together, Coriolanus.”

“Why not?” Your ex raised a brow, only to mockingly say, “Because you're too busy entertaining yourself with Odysseus Odair,” Coriolanus’ baritone dripped down an octave as he smugly said, “who will never make you feel that way I make you feel.”

How dare he say that; try to play on your feelings. Feelings that you confessed the night you left him, but probably shouldn't have since he's using them against you know.

Well, two can play that game.

You kept a neutral look on your face, even though you were pissed at his remark, and told Coriolanus, “At least Odysseus isn't engaged to Livia; unlike you he can actually love me.”

Coriolanus’ jaw ticked and his nostrils flared. You bringing up Livia and accusing him of being unable to love you as reasons to be with Odysseus set his blood on fire with a jealous rage. You're his. You belong to him- Livia or no Livia, love or no love, you’ll always be his.

And the only way to get it into your thick skull was to show you who you belonged to.

Before you could even blink, Coriolanus grabbed the back of your neck with one hand and cupped your jaw with the other only to smash his lush lips on yours in a needy, passionate, heated kiss filled with longing and desperation.

A kiss that took your breath away.

You were bent over the kitchen island, hands wrapped around the edges while your shorts and panties were pooled around your legs. Legs that were spread wide open for the tall man standing behind you.

Coriolanus Snow.

You heard the sound of him shedding his crisp jacket, which he tossed onto the island, followed by the sound of him loosening his tie. The swish of him tugging the Windsor knot echoed in the air and you knew what was next.

You felt yourself grow wetter at the clanking noise of Coriolanus unbuckling his belt. In only a few seconds, he had his pants and boxers down around his knees while rubbing his leaking tip against your clit. He bowed his head so that his mouth was right against your ear. “I'm not prepping you, Y/N. You're wet enough, I know you can take it.” Coriolanus licked the shell of your ear before saying, “Only a good girl deserves to have her cunt filled by my fingers and eaten eagerly by my tongue.” Digging his fingers into your hips, sure to leave bruises, he darkly chuckled, “You're lucky I'm going to let you cum tonight, since you've been a bad girl.”

Oh my God…He's in one of those moods tonight! Your pussy's in for a punishing pounding.

Coriolanus' baritone was full of lust as he asked, “You remember your safe word, darling?”

You've only been broken up for a month. That's not long enough to forget your safe word, the simple word of red. A word that you've never used and doubt you ever will with the platinum blonde man, who has the body of an ancient god.

“Yes.” Was the one word answer you gave him.

“Good.” He replied, a smugness in his deep timbre, before sheathing himself in your wet, tight cunt without warning; with one quick snap of his hips.

You let out a surprised moan at the stretch and intrusion of being filled up so quickly without warning while he let out a deep groan at how tight you felt around his large cock. Coriolanus didn't give you a moment to adjust to the 8 inches he’d just stuffed into your tight cunt. No, he instantly began to thrust quickly and harshly into you.

You let out a mix between a shriek and a moan at the feeling of his cock bullying your pussy; pressing against that sweet spot deep inside of you. The noise that escaped your lips made pride swell in his chest. He always enjoys listening to your noises as he fucks you.

Coriolanus wants to be the only man to make you moan and whine for him. So much so, that he lets out a grunted, “I hate the idea of anyone else having you. This pussy's mine.” He snapped his hips harder, causing you to moan at the feeling of his large cock bruising your cervix. “Fuck, baby, tell me your cunt's mine.” He ordered, roughing pounding into your pussy while using one of his hands to smack your ass.

*Smack, smack, smack.*

Coriolanus gave you three quick, forceful smacks that made your ass cheek beet read and sing. Soaked your pussy too.

You knew that you shouldn't tell him that your cunt belongs to him, but your body craved the pounding that he’s giving your pussy and you're afraid he'll just cum and stop- leaving you unsatisfied- if you don't tell him what he wants to hear. This isn't your first rodeo with Coriolanus. You know how he possessive he gets when fucking.

So….

You let out a whimper of, “My cunt's yours, Coryo. All yours.”

“Fuck…baby, you feel so good.” Coriolanus gritted out as the sounds of sweat slick skin loudly slapping together echoed throughout the air in the kitchen. “Your cunt's so tight and wet around my cock. ‘S made just for me.”

“Yes, yes, yes! Just for you, all for you!” You exclaimed in a shriek, feeling his cum heavy balls smacking against your clit while his dick pistoned so deep inside of you that you felt yourself get dizzy.

“You close, baby? Fuck, I'm close.” The platinum blonde remarked while fucking you so roughly that if you weren't holding onto the island you'd probably slide over it.

“Yea, so close, Coryo.” You cried out, drool spilling from your lips as your cheek was pressed against the cool marble of the kitchen island. Oh god, you were so close and it felt so so good. Being fucked like this, damn you did t realize how much you missed it. How much you needed it. Not until now- now that you're on the verge of cumming hard around the biggest cock you've ever had stuffed in your tight cunt.

Without warning, Coryo placed his calloused fingertips against your clit and began to rub the swollen pearl furiously. “Be a good little slut and cum for me. Cum for me and milk my cock dry, make me knock you up, baby.” He told you, plowing into you as fast as he could with his fingers sloppily rubbing your clit, pinching and tugging it to speed up your orgasm.

And suddenly, you’e cumming around Coryo's cock, soaking both him and your kitchen floor, while moaning his name like a prayer. His icy blue eyes rolled back into his head, moaning out a minute of fuck and your name as you milked him dry of his cum. His fingers dug painfully into your hip as he shot rope after rope of his white, hot, seed into your womb.

You whimpered when Coriolanus’ cock slipped out of you, leaving your pussy empty and clenching around air.

Coriolanus’ chest heaved as he caught his breath, but his eyes widened as he noticed a red smear on the tip of his cock along with a tiny bit of red mixed with the cum that was trickling out of your pussy like fine pearls. Oh shit… he fucked you too deep, went too hard.

Oh shit, did he hurt you?

“Y/N, you're bleeding.” Coriolanus announced, toeing out of his shoes and kicking off the pants and boxers that rested around his ankles. Pulling you up and into his arms, he asked, “Why didn't you use your safe word?”

Still cockdrunk, you just rested your head against his white shirt covered chest and told him, “It felt good, so I didn't need the safe word.”

“I'll draw you a bath, but your not going to be walking right for a few days.” He told you, picking you up bridal style. “Where's your bathroom, little dove?”

“It's the door right behind you, across from this island right after you exit the kitchen.” You informed him, causing him to just nod and carry out to the bathroom.

You were sitting on the toilet, watching as Coriolanus plugged up your bathtub and turned the water on. He fiddled with both the hot and cold knobs until the water coming out of the faucet was just the right temperature. Then he grabbed the light pink bottle of bubble bath that you had on the edge of the tub.

“Rose Vanilla.” He read the label, only to look at you and ask, “Is this new? Don't you usually use something called Brightest Bloom or Blossoms, something like that?”

Averting your eyes to stare at the white tile floor, so you didn't have to look at Coriolanus as he uncapped the bottle and poured some of the light pink soap into the tub, you told him, “I bought it last month. It came in a kit with a matching bar of soap, body lotion, shampoo, and conditioner.”

If you were looking at Coriolanus you would've seen how he stiffened up at your answer. How his jaw twitched; his eyes widened with realization. You bought it for him, because he likes roses. But you broke up last month, so…

Quickly, Coriolanus composed himself while screwing the cap back onto the bottle of bubble bath. “It smells lovely.” He complimented your taste in new bubble bath while putting the bottle back. Coming to stand in front of you, he simply ordered, “Lift your arms up for me, darling.”

Of course, you complied, causing him to pull your shirt over your head. He licked his lips when he saw that you weren't wearing a bra, but he didn't say anything about it. No, instead he simply helped you into the bath, all the while praising you with, “Good girl, that's a girl. Gently get into the water.” Once you were settled in the tub full of warm water and bubble, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and turned the water knobs off.

You assumed that since you're in the tub he'd leave, but he didn't. Actually, instead of going into the kitchen to collect his pants and shoes; make a run for it, he pulled his loosen tie over his head and placed it onto your bathroom vanity.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, watching Coriolanus as he unbuttoned his white shirt.

“Joining you in the tub, what does it look like I'm doing, my darling rose?”

Focusing on the faucet in front of you, you tell him, “You don't have to, Coriolanus. You can go home; take a shower.”

Your remark hurt worse then if you would've slapped the blonde across his face. He always-

ALWAYS-

took a relaxing bath with you after pushing you too hard during rough sex. Why would you tell him to leave you; to go home and shower? He's always been with you to help you clean up and come down from rough fucking. Why would that change now?

Pulling off his socks, he hid his hurt behind the answer of, “I want to take a bath with you.”

“Why?” You asked as he got into the tub, right behind you, causing the water and bubbles to ripple and wave.

Pulling you into him, so your back's leaning against his chest, he told you, “You know why.”

No, actually, you didn't know why. You're broken up, so he doesn't have a reason to stay. You two fucked, due to frustration, so he should've left already. Or at least you think he should've left already. Or if not left then maybe put his pants back on and asked you to feed him whatever you were trying to cook before he had hate filled sex with you.

Oh, if only you knew that the sex he had with you was far from hate filled. Would never be hate filled, because he didn't hate you. Not even a little bit, not even at all.

“We're broken up, Coryo, so why’re you here?”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to, my darling rose. It's not very becoming.”

Of course, you won't get a straight answer from him. Why would you? The guy’s a better wordsmith than the Norse god Loki. Good luck getting the truth out of that angelic looking demon of a platinum blonde.

Coriolanus rested a hand on your thighs only to run the other thru your hair. His deep baritone broke the silence in the room with, “You know, Y/N, just say the word and we can have you moved up into my top floor penthouse within an hour.”

Is he serious? He's engaged, but he wants you to be his live in mistress all because you had a moment of weakness and had a frustrated hate fuck with him. What's wrong with him? Is he delusional? You broke up with him because you don't want to be his mistress. You don't want to be his plaything.

“Shouldn't you be moving your fiance, Livia Cardew, into your new penthouse?” You countered, knowing that if anyone would share his penthouse it'd be her.

“No.” Coriolanus gruffy spat out. “I got that penthouse for us, not for her.”

“You're engaged to Livia and I'm with Odysseus now. What happened in the kitchen doesn't mean anything.”

Coriolanus would've rather been drowned in that damn lake he dumped those guns in all those years ago that him and Spruce used to kill Mayfair and Billy Taupe with them hear you say that the fuck you just had with him didn't mean anything. That hurt him, more than he'd care to admit. He just assumed that, since you'd been together for so long (and admitted to being in love with him that night that you left), he still meant something to you.

Oh, how the gods know that you mean something to him. Even if he's too scared to admit it, you mean the world to him. Too bad he's afraid of getting hurt and is too concerned about his political career.

The damning realization hit him then and there. “You're not coming back to me, are you?” Coriolanus asked, even though he already knew what you'd say.

“No.” You shook your head. “We've both moved on; tonight was just a fluke and it won't happen again.”

Coriolanus hated hearing that. He wanted to bring you home so bad. He wanted you back with him, where you belonged. Damnit, you belong to him. Why do you have to be so stubborn?

“You haven't been with Odysseus that long, my darling. You haven't truly moved on, you're just trying to push your feelings for me onto him.” The platinum blonde told you as a last ditch effort to get you to abandon your life on the 4th floor as Odysseus Odair's girlfriend and move into his luxury penthouse; become his girl once again.

“And you claim to hate your fiance, Livia, but you're still engaged to her; plan to get married and have a happy life with the perfect socialite showpiece on your arm for all of your political aspirations.” You told Coriolanus, calling him out on his own bullshit relationship.

“Y/N-” Coriolanus began, only for you to cut him off with the order of, “Don't, Coryo. Just go, please just leave me alone.”

Coriolanus didn't say a word, just stood up and got out of the tub. He grabbed the towel off of the rack, dried off, and put on his shirt. He grabbed his tie and socks from the vanity and left you alone in the bathroom. A few minutes later, he was dressed and walking out of your front door. He slammed it shut with such a force that it shut with a loud bang that had out nearly jumping out of the tub.

You stayed in the tub, soaking and sulking til you pruned. When you got out, you felt a bit sore. You managed to dry off and go to your room, where you put on a pair of comfy pajamas.

When you went into the kitchen to resume making yourself something to eat, you saw that on the kitchen island was a large bouquet of red roses (there had to be at least 50 of them) and Coriolanus’ suit jacket.

He left his suit jacket behind, right next to the roses. But why would he do that? He was always so meticulous when it came to his fancy things. It just didn't make any sense to you.

Why would Coriolanus leave his suit jacket behind?

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