#book readers pls don't hate

[pretty-little-mind33]

Pietro Maximoff x stark!fem!reader

Summary: You've always hated Pietro for his player tendencies—turns out he's never hated you at all.

Genre: Fluff, hurt and comfort (enemies to lovers)

Warnings: implied fuck-boy!Pietro, reader is Tony Stark's daughter (no physical description), reader hates Pietro in the beginning, mentions of blood and gun wounds, swearing, because Sokovia isn't real- I used Czech as Pietro and Wanda's language (i don't speak Czech so i used translating sites…if it's wrong, pls tell me)

~ thank you to the anon who requested this! this is my very first time writing for Pietro, please tell me what you think! ~

PIETRO MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST

Your father has always been overprotective of you. 

He usually doesn't involve you with his affairs when you're with him and not at Mom's, choosing to have your room as far from any Avengers as he possibly could. At sixteen, you didn't like this—you felt like you deserved to live normally in your own home—so when he asked you to become friends with his newest members, Twins from Sokovia who also happened to be sixteen, and make them feel welcomed, you were more than happy to do so.

You liked Wanda Maximoff from the first moment you met her. She seemed quiet and shy in the beginning, but she also has this fiery side to her that you admire. She never took shit from anyone, including her brother. 

Pietro Maximoff was very different from his sister. You remember standing in your room, your dad by your side, with an unamused Wanda in front of you as a blue blur sparked across the room, occasionally skidding to a stop and knocking over some books or picking up some trinkets and making unnecessarily judgmental and overly excited comments.  

"Pietro," Wanda hissed, "Přestaň (Stop it)."

His sister's warning had only made his grin widen, his silver hair falling over his strikingly blue eyes as he returned next to her, his arms crossed. "Promiňte (Sorry)." You didn't know what he'd said, but it didn't sound like he meant it. 

"Wanda," he pointed to his sister as he introduced her, and then his grin turned into a smile. "Pietro," he said, pointing to himself, and then he outstretched his hand with no awkwardness or hesitation. You looked down and then up at him again, turning to your dad with an unsure expression but when he nodded, you shook Pietro's hand.

"Y/n," you whispered with a smile, and as you shook his hand, what could have been the start of a wonderful friendship, should have started that day. 

Should have.

In the beginning, it was childish teasing—which involved stealing things from your room and hiding them around the tower because it made Pietro laugh, running past you in the halls so quickly you'd almost fall over, or jokingly ruining any chances with any boys at school because he'd stick his nose in business that never involved him. 

Most of the team and your dad found your banter funny—encouraging the same boys will be boys' bullshit that meant that as the years passed, your dislike for Pietro only worsened. 

It especially didn't help when, by seventeen, he'd found out he was pleasant enough to look at and that girls seemed to adore his boyish charm. So, any chance he had, he'd either heavily flirt with girls at school, or find excuses during missions to pick up any pretty girl he came across. 

Of course, this behavior only increased in his twenties and made him all the more annoying—especially since you began working the coms and the computer for when the team was out on missions. Ever since Ultron, your dad now trusted you more than a robot. 

You're curled up in your chair, your headphones on as you watch the multiple screens in front of you. Some have news outlets playing out the scene while others have the biometrics of Iron Man's suit and the others' suits to make sure all is well. You also have every member in your ear as your fingers glide over the keyboard.

"Dad?" you switch the coms and touch the microphone. 

"Yes, Y/n?" Tony Stark's voice echoes in your headphones and you smile. 

"I can try and hack into the network of that bastard's suit if you want?" 

"Actually, Y/n, can you locate Quicksilver for me? He was supposed to evacuate all the civilians but I can't reach him anymore. Could you try? He always answers you,"

Great, Pietro duty—again.

"Can't I do something more useful?"

Tony chuckles, making you glance at one of your computer screens where you can see him hovering in the air, protecting the civilians on the ground from some shit-bag escaped prisoners who had taken over some secret government-type weaponry and causing all kinds of havoc.

Steve and Natasha seem to be handling the situation with some tact, while Wanda looks like she's having fun crunching the weapons in the men's hands with her mind. All in all, the team seems like they're handling things just fine without Pietro around. 

"Quicksilver is useful to me, darling. I know he's not your favorite person right now, Y/n, but he's a valuable member of my team and I need you to find him for me."

You huff. "He was never my favorite person," you whisper roll your chair over to another keyboard, and disconnect Tony from your headphones. You bite your cheek and hit enter. "Pietro? Hello?"

No answer. 

You change the signal. 

"Wanda?"

"Hello!" Wanda answers and you hear some commotion in the background. 

"Where's your brother?" you ask, "he isn't answering me."

"I don't know," Wanda says and after a moment she adds, "I can feel him though."

"Thanks," you say, although she'd been completely unhelpful. All you'd learned was that Pietro was definitely alive—which wasn't really a concern of yours since you hadn't assumed something happened to him. You just assumed he was missing.

"Y/n?" 

You hear him in your headphones and you quickly change the channel again, pressing your lips closer to your microphone. "Pietro," you say.

"Yeah?" Pietro sounds like he's running, "What's up, Princezna (Princess)?"

"Don't call me that," you say, knowing damn well he'll call you that anyway. He always has. "Tony wants you. Where have you been?"

Pietro laughs. "I got a little distracted, Moje srdce (My heart)." You hear what sounds like another pet name—he calls you that from time to time you just refuse to ask him what it means.

You want to ask him what he means by distracted, but you assume it has something to do with him getting some girl's number so you don't want to know anymore. "I'm on my way back now so no need to worry your pretty head about me."

"I wasn't worried about you," you say instantly, "I was ordered to find you. Very different."

"Sure, Princezna, sure," Pietro says, his voice husky as he stops and takes a breath. "When are you going to fess up and admit you like me, hm? This cat-and-mouse game has been fun and all, but c'mon, what will it take for you to understand? Tady mě zabíjíš (You are killing me here)."

"Understand what?" 

"Understand that I–" Just as he speaks, you hear more familiar voices and shouting in the background and you look to one of the screens from a news outlet where you can see that Pietro is back with the team, only he's not running anymore. No, he looks like he's swaying. You stand to look closer at the screen. 

"Pietro?" you call into the mic, trying to understand what happened until you see him fall to the ground, clutching his side as his blue suit stains red. He must have stopped running for a moment and one of the fucking assholes dressed in machinery must have shot him. You panic and run to an opposite computer and change the channel one last time. 

"Wanda?" you whisper, your voice hoarse and shaky as you look back at the screen and see that Clint has found Pietro, and Wanda is running up to them too. "W-Wanda?" you try once more, watching her on-screen as she tends to her brother and ignores you.

You feel completely powerless.

* * *

When everyone comes home, you feel stupid as you greet them. Most of the Avengers send you sympathetic smiles as Tony walks up to you. Clint, Wanda, and Pietro aren't with them. You look up at your dad, feeling embarrassed that you're worried for someone you claim to hate.

Tony's expression softens as he hugs you stoically, he's not much for this type of affection but he can see you need this as you bury your nose into his shoulder. 

"He's being checked now but nothing serious," your dad sounds calm, "he's fine, darling."

You pull away, forcing a look of nonchalance as you. "I- I know that I- I didn't care either way," you lie shamelessly.  

Tony shakes his head, sounding exhausted when he says, "You're so stubborn, just like your mom." He ruffles your hair and kisses your forehead. "You can see him in a bit, I'm sure. I'll tell Wanda to come find you when he can have visitors."

You nod and spend the next few hours pacing your room, nibbling at the skin around your nails until you taste blood and finally, someone walks into your room—only it isn't Wanda. It's Pietro himself. He's wearing a slightly wrinkled tank top and a pair of slacks hung loosely around his hips. It's almost sinful. He grins cockily and runs a hand in his hair, his shirt riding up to expose his stomach. You stare at him, wide-eyed and your hand drops from your mouth. 

"What are you doing out of bed?!" you say, sounding more worried than you'd intended.

"What are you? My máma?" Pietro laughs and leans against the edge of your vanity. "I heal quick," he shrugs and looks around your room. He hadn't been in here in a while. He smirks. "Still sleep with Teddy, hm?" he hums. 

You feel warmth in your cheeks and you send your poor beaten-up-with-love Teddy-Bear a glare as if it was his fault you still slept with him in your arms at twenty-four. "Ha ha, funny," you mumble and move to stand in front of Pietro so he can't make fun of any more of your belongings. "No– I don't. Can you leave now?"

Pietro crosses his arms and tilts his head, his blue eyes piercing into yours. "Stark said you wanted to see me." 

Of course, he did. 

You narrow your eyes. "Well, I have seen you and I see you're fine so now I've changed my mind," you say with a shrug and point to your door, waiting for him to make the decision and leave. 

"You don't even wanna ask why I was distracted out there?" Pietro says and a smirk curls his lips.

"No–"

You feel the wind in your hair and in a blink, he's standing much closer to you with a slight pant—as if he'd just run—and he's holding a small bent bouquet of roses in his hands. He holds them out for you and you stare at them in disbelief. 

"What are those?"

"Roses."

You glare at him. "I know that but why?"

"I saw them and thought of you," he says so nonchalantly you almost don't believe him.

"What? When?"    

"When I was helping the civilians," Pietro shrugs and his eyes are intense. He pauses after a moment and raises his hand, his knuckles skimming your cheek. You freeze, warmth spreading all over your cheeks as you panic internally. "Saw them in the park and I wanted to get them for you."

Your eyes widen. "Isn't that illegal?"

Pietro smirks. "Not if it's done in the name of love, Princezna."

"I don't think that's how that works—" Realization dawns on you and you feel like you're spinning. "Wait, wait, what did you just say?" 

Pietro laughs and his hand moves to tuck some hair behind your ear, smiling. Maybe he's excited but you can feel his skin vibrate on yours. Your heart is pounding so heavily and your mind is screaming at you that this is all a trick and this is what he does with girls. He throws around the l-word and expects women to fall at his feet. He's a player.

"What I was trying to tell you before I was rudely shot, is why haven't you caught on and understood that I'm madly in love with you?"

What?!

You blink at him and then take a step away from him, shaking your head as you force a laugh. "Pietro, this isn't funny. It isn't funny to mess with me like this. You know how I feel about you playing with my feelings—"

Pietro frowns. "Playing with you?" 

You roll your eyes. "Please, it's just not funny, okay?"

"You think this is a joke, mé srdce (my heart)? Ach, můj drahý (Oh, my dear)," Pietro says in a whisper and moves closer to you again, his hand reaching for yours as he hands you the roses.

"I'm not messing with you. I tease you sometimes, but my feelings are real. I haven't messed around with any women in years—minus that mistletoe kiss—" he rubs his nape, mentioning the time you'd caught him and an office girl kissing at last Christmas party. He didn't mean for that to happen, and even less for you to see him. 

You're really trying to understand him now but nothing is making sense. "You have feelings for me?" You whisper, your eyes wide. You feel like you've entered some alternative reality. "You can't just say things like that now, Pietro. It's not fair."

His expression turns more serious than you've ever seen him. "I'm not saying this lightly, Y/n. I know I've been a jerk to you, but I was a stupid kid who didn't know how to express his feelings and then it was too late because you hated me. But, I have always cared for you, miláček (darling). I really have."

You move back, your eyes round, processing his words. All those years of childish teasing, all those petty arguments you'd had, and all the jealousy you've felt suddenly hit you like a train and you're left broken and bruised. He had feelings for you? You've been pushing him away because you were scared of how you felt about him.

"Why now? Why did you choose to tell me all this now?" you ask, shaking the roses in your hands as your voice trembles.

Pietro exhales. "Because when Wanda mentioned me how worried you were about me, I realized how much I need you in my life. Need you beside me. I didn't want to hide my feelings anymore— and I picked those flowers wanting to confess anyway. I want to be with you, Y/n. No more games, just us."

You feel a mix of relief and fear. Deep down, you've wanted to hear this for so long, but it's as terrifying as you'd imagined. You look up at him, walking in closer and you can hear your heart in your throat when you run a hand in his silver hair, holding him and pulling him down to meet his lips.

You've convinced yourself this would be confirmation. Confirmation that this was a bad fucking idea. Instead, his kiss is intoxicating and it makes your mind go all fuzzy. Of course, he'd be good at this, he'd been quite the whore—your thought is interrupted by Pietro pulling you in closer and deepening the kiss, his hand finding your hip. 

You gasp, leaning up into him as the world as you'd known it crashes around you. 

"Sakra, Princezna (Damn, Princess)," Pietro murmurs into your lips, holding you close. "This is so much better than I imagined."

"You imagined this?" you say, sounding more teasing than you'd anticipated as you're left breathless from his kisses. 

Pietro hums. "All the damn time," he admits and kisses you again.

After more kisses, he finally pulls away. "So, is that a yes? You want be with me too?" he asks hopefully and you look into his eyes, taking in his excitement. You don't dare even think of breaking his heart as anyway, your swells at the mere thought of being his. 

You nod but then smirk and pull him back in for a kiss, your hand fisting his shirt, "Kiss me some more and then I'll tell you."

And he does just that.

[featguler]

can u do a cute jude smau pls

better half ────── life is hard when your girlfriend is forever away.

♡ ────── pairing : jude bellingham x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader is female, and her faceclaim is established. pre-established relationship with jude. reader lives in england. jude is down bad his love language is being annoying to all of reader's friends ♡ ────── notes : jude smau debut!! he is actually so embarrassing here i love him. thanks for the request!! this took wayyyyy longer than i had initially anticipated, the word "jude bellingham" doesn't even look real to me now. pls tell me what u think!! ♡ masterlist.

FACECLAIM 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ naura ayu ( instagram )

DISCLAIMER 𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ 𐙚 i am not affiliated with naura ayu, jude, or anyone mentioned in this fic 𐙚 any similarities in name, time, and place is purely coincidental 𐙚 do not mind the time stamps 𐙚 click on the pictures if it seems blurry

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ynusername i would never!! 💝💝

yourfriend2 it's been 40 seconds @.judebellingham ❤️ by author

judebellingham you don't understand true love i guess ❤️ by author

[munsster]

rockstar standards

A/N: PLS PLS PLS DROP SUGGESTIONS FOR HOCKEY STEVE/EDDIE im having a total brainfart but i need to break into the hockey au game bc i love it 😻 (gif creds: @cuntyarmand)

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, 90s AU

Summary: Corroded Coffin starts to gain some traction, and you can't help feeling stranded. 1.5k words

Warnings: minor angst/hurt comfort, fluff, pining, pet names (bug, sweetheart, sweets, baby), jealousy, undressed cuddling,

You watch him parade around the stage every Friday night. Sometimes he's playing the home stage, other times he books random amphitheaters and dive bars. But today, he's drenched in purple light on the outskirts of Chicago. It's by far the biggest venue Corroded Coffin has played. You sit by the pop up bar, but bodies are packed like sardines in this place. It's hot and loud, but it's worth it to see him so elated.

Even through his streaky eyeliner, you can tell he's adoring the attention of the pit. You can see their red fingernails and shiny tank tops and free flowing hair. You never thought Eddie would be the kinda thing you were attracted to. You also know he's not the kinda guy to be attracted to something like you. You know guys like Eddie usually go for the Pam Andersons and Courtney Loves. The Party girls. Not the ones who have nothing better to do on a Saturday night than watch a romcom alone.

That Sunday, Eddie pulls onto your street. It's late and he has a ringing headache. He couldn't think of anything better to do after touching down in Hawkins again. You'd headed home the night before, and it made his gut wrench knowing he wouldn't get to see you the rest of the weekend.

Your door creaks open, and he's smiling on the other side. He's already leaning against your doorway with the bouquet he bought earlier from the woman selling them on the corner.

"Missed you, bug," he huffs, "Can I come in?"

You step aside without another word, and he hangs his leather jacket on the coat rack like always. Something feels off when he sits on the couch to find you're on the complete opposite side from him. Usually, you're not shy about cuddling up beside him to watch a movie or share snacks or just talk.

He frowns and scoots closer, leaning in to grab at your ankle playfully. You kick his hand away, brow set hard above your lethal glare.

"Sweetheart," he huffs, tilting his head in confusion, "What's going on? Where's my cuddlebug?"

"I dunno, somewhere in Hollywood?"

His eyes nearly pop out of his head at that. You're his favorite girl and you know that. So why're you grilling him now.

"Tell me what's goin' on. What did I miss?"

And you look serious, too. This isn't some running joke he missed out on while he was away. He's not sure who bruised your confidence, but he's sure he'd like to have a few words with them. He hates the way your lip wobbles and your eyes avoid him cause it gives you away. That's how he knows you're heartbroken.

"Eddie," you whine, swiping a hasty tear from your cheek. "I just don't know why you keep me around when you could have any of those girls at your bon vivant gigs."

"Fuck is that supposed to mean, bug?" He barks it out on accident, sitting back on his haunches with a scowl. "I'm sorry, but there's no way I'm gettin’ rid of you."

"Eddie, please... you're gonna make it big and get shipped off to Tinseltown, and I'll still be here, teddy. Probably being someone's lonely, suburban housewife. It's what I'm made for, and that's not what you want."

"You're wrong."

"And maybe you should go," you whisper, choking back a sob and standing from the couch.

"No, sweets, you're wrong," he says, standing and striding over to you, "You've got me wrong, and you've got you wrong."

You cross your arms over your chest and finally look him in the eye.

"'S that so?"

"Yeah," he tuts. And he has the most charming, most dastardly smile you've ever seen, flashing his canines like a gentle killer. "'Cause I'm gonna take you with me."

"Teddy."

"Nope, I'm takin' you with me wherever I go, and there's nothin' you can say to change my mind. Even if you hate my music forever, fine, I'll fix you up in a nice five star anywhere we go. You can sit and watch all the movies you like. You'll be nobody's housewife, baby, 'cause I'm keepin' you."

You roll your eyes, batting away tears when he grabs your hand to pull you back to the couch.

"And what if I said that's not what I want?" you suggest, testing his rockstar resolve with your big, wet eyes and stubborn quips.

"Then I'll give you somethin' else. Anything else. But you're mine no matter what." If only you knew how proud it made him to call you his girl. To know you support him even if you don't love his genre.  "Now, would you come closer? You're killin' me."

You obey with a frigid pout, letting him drape your thighs over his and brush his ring clad paws over your cheeks, down your neck.

"But what about your groupies and the pretty girls at the bars or in the front row?"

"What about 'em?" he says, just barely shaking his head, "I'll have somethin' way better waiting for me."

You chuckle. "You're crazy."

He cocks a brow. "Old news."

When he notices how close you've gotten, he smiles. Your manicured nails graze over his chest with the only light washing over you from the dimly lit kitchen. He can't resist his palm curling behind your neck, pulling you close for a sweet kiss.

"Where d'you keep your vases?" he mumbles, remembering the tulips resting on the little table.

"Kitchen. Above the fridge," you say with your fingers already slotting between his to pull him towards the warm light. He loves you like this: sickly sweet and tender, holding him all gentle in your hot pulse. You go to reach for a painted ceramic vase, but he wraps his arm around you and turns you away.

"Ah ah ah, drop it, sweetheart. That’s my job," he says against your temple, holding the lip of the vase and patting your ass. He takes the bouquet from your grasp and sets both on the counter by the sink. You hand him a pair of scissors and he carefully snips the stems jagged, filling the vase with water.

His stomach flips when you wrap your arms around his waist and clasp your hands at his belt. He sets the prepared arrangement aside and turns in your embrace.

"All done," he says wickedly, palming your face with his wet hands. You jump back with a squeal, pelting a dish rag at this chest.

"Use a towel, you slob!"

He chuckles and wipes his hands on his shirt, tossing the towel over his shoulder and leering at you like he's starved.

"Come here," he mumbles. You go a little shy under his gaze, dropping your head and shuffling towards his presence. He catches you by the hips, dipping down to catch your mouth in a prying kiss. You grin against him and he groans, tugging you tight against his body.

"Always love how soft you are, baby. Surprises me every time." He shakes his wild mane and purses his lips for you to kiss this time.

"Where d'you want the flowers?" he says.

"Bedroom?"

His eyes light up involuntarily, and he grabs the vase, bounding off towards your room gleefully. You jog to catch up with him, and when you enter the threshold, he's expertly positioning the vase next to a stack of books on your dresser.

"Much cleaner than mine," he says, gesturing around the room, "You keep it nice in here."

You shrug. "Could be cleaner."

"You can never see mine," he teases, knowing full well you already have. He slings his arms low on your hips, adoring you in the blue light of dusk. "Can I undress you?"

You bow your head and whisper, "teddy..."

"Not like that. Just wanna hold you."

You kiss his slanted mouth sweetly, nodding.

He reaches for the edge of your soft cotton dress, pulling it up and over your head. He whistles low upon seeing your undergarments, whipping his shirt off and onto the floor somwhere. You giggle, helping him with his belt buckle. He traces your temple with his lips leaving kisses along the way. He steps out of his jeans and lets you lead him around the bed.

His curls sprawl out against your pillows, and he welcomes you into his side with a lazy smile. Your reach to touch his waist and softly feel over the scar below his ribs.

"Little tender, bug," he hisses. You bat your eyes up at him scared, pulling your hand away.

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "No, please," he whispers, cradling your wrist, his eyes locked with yours. He draws the hair away from your neck, replacing it with his fingers to dance down along your spine. You’re warmer than he’s ever felt before and thankful for it. His hands are cold, but he doesn’t have to worry about it for very long when you bring each fingertip to your lips for a kiss.

“You’re my girl, alright? Always,” he whispers and you nod, “always.”

masterlist

[chaepink]

SUB!TOJI FAILING TO DOM HIS GF PLS

Cat's got your tongue? | sub!toji fushiguro

wc: 2.2k+ words | masterlist

dom!fem!reader, brat!toji, marking/biting, pegging, begging, degradation, overstimulation, fingering (m receiving), slight spanking, brat taming, slight choking, fucking toji dumb

note : i hate to admit how hot this man is

"what are you doing?"

You eye the man in front of you who's been acting weird all day. While he's usually a big brat, he's been even more bratty all day yesterday and today, talking back to you and acting stubborn when you tell him to do basic things and now ignoring you when you just asked him a question.

It's gotten on your nerves but you brush it off as something that won't last long. But now as he takes off his shirt to expose his chest to you—you have to force yourself to look away from his nipples—and begins to crawl towards you on the bed, you're wondering if he has something up his sleeve.

You lay your back on the bed's headboard and put the book that you were previously reading onto the bedside table.

He makes his way in front of you and leans his face closer to yours, a smirk on him.

"how about you just a good girl for me and strip and get on all fours, hm?" You cringe slightly at his words but realization soon dawns on you on what he's trying to do.

You sigh at his antics and you see Toji falter a little at your lack of eagerness to do what he just told you. You cross your arms at him and look at him unimpressed.

"I'm going to ask you again. What do you think you're doing?" Again, you're met with silence but Toji recomposes himself quickly. He glares at you but you notice that the glare lacks any real threat.

"do what I say and don't be a brat-"

You quickly sit up and yank his hair back, narrowing your eyes at the man. Your action makes Toji let out a choked whimper as he looks at you with widened eyes. You're no longer annoyed, you're fucking pissed as you look at him with fury in your eyes. Fuck, he's in big trouble now.

"how about you don't be a brat, huh?" Venom is laced in your tone and Toji has to hold back a shiver. "You think I haven't noticed your weird antics lately? And now you try to dominate me?" You scoff, the grip you have on his hair tightening, making him hiss at the slight pain. He tries to leave your grasp but your hand stays right there in his hair.

"as if you could ever do that. You're a fucking slut whose head turns to mush whenever they get fucked in the ass!" You let out a chuckle, looking at the bulge on his pants.

"And now you're hard. What else can I expect from a whore, hm?" Toji widens his eyes and gulps, he didn't even notice himself getting hard. His plan is falling apart right in front of you miserably.

He looks you in the eyes and shivers at the lack of humor within. You're really angry this time. The annoyance and lack of patience in you has you wanting to punish him until he's crying for you to stop.

"back away and sit in front of me right now." Toji listens to you immediately, knowing he went too far in trying to be a brat. He backs away from you and does what you told him to do, sitting in front of you with his legs together and his hands on his bulge to try to hide it even when you've already seen it. It's pathetic, really.

His breath hitches in his throat when you crawl closer to him, licking your lips at the delicious sight of your boyfriend in front of you, half naked with an obvious tent in his pants. You spread his legs apart with ease. It's not like Toji was really trying that hard to hide it from you anyways.

"What's wrong, baby?" The sweet pet name is ironic, considering the way you're looking at him right now is anything but sweet. You're looking at him as if he was your prey with hunger in your eyes and Toji certainly feels one like when he looks at you.

"Cat's got your tongue, toji?" You tilt your head at him, almost mockingly. "You can't think straight when all that's in your head right now is the fact that you're hard, right?"

You tsk, moving in front of him to whisper in his ear. One of your hands goes to grab at his bulge.

"fucking slut."

You harshly bite the top of his ear with one of your canines. The metallic taste of blood floods your taste buds as your tongue laps at the excess blood coming from the mark.

Toji lets out a choked gasp that soon turns into a moan when the pain turns into pleasure. You make your way down to his jaw and to his neck, leaving kisses and bite marks while you're at it.

"Now what was that little act of yours earlier? Trying to take control of me, hm?" Toji gulps as he stares at the wall in front of him. Two choices cloud his head, either he continues being a brat and denies his earlier actions or he caves in and listens to you.

No matter how much the brattier side of him tells him to do the former, he's not that stupid to anger your further.

"i-im sorry, [name]." You pull back from his neck, licking your lips at the taste of his blood still in your mouth. You raise an eyebrow at him, clearly still unimpressed.

"Sorry?" You chuckle, darkly. "Oh, you're anything but sorry, darling. I know it."

You eye his exposed chest and your hands teasingly ghost over his nipples, grinning when Toji lets out a whine.

"How are you supposed to be the one dominating me when you're already a mess when I've barely touched you?"

You prove your point by pinching a nipple, grinning when Toji lets out a choked moan. He tries to muffle his noises using his hands but you quickly push them away, giving him a glare to warn him not to silence his noises.

"A part of me wants to just leave you here for you to take care of your problem yourself but I want to do something else instead." You get off the bed and go to your dresser, trying to find the exact item you're looking for. Toji gulps at the first part of your sentence. He would hate it if you left him alone to masturbate by himself.

"When I turn around I better see you naked and on the bed on all fours." You hear some ruffling behind you as you quickly put on your strap, tightening enough so that it feels secure on you. You take off your clothes and leave your undergarments on.

And when you turn around, you see Toji naked and on all fours, his head turned to look at you with awaiting eyes, eagerness clearly in them. His hard dick lays hovering over the bed and you swear you can see him slightly rocking forward to fuck himself against the surface. What a slut.

You give him a small smile. "Looks like you're finally able to follow my instructions properly."

You grab a bottle of lube and make your way towards him. You grab his ass unexpectedly which makes Toji let out a gasp. Squeezing it, you spread his ass apart to reveal his twitching hole.

Weirdly enough, it looks as if it's already been prepped. You look at Toji who quickly blushes and looks away from you.

"You already prepped cause you knew I would be punishing you today, huh?" You see him nod nervously and you slap his ass, watching in content as it turns red, a handprint appearing on it. Toji gasps and whines at you.

"Words, darling."

"Y-Yes... i did it this morning" You hum at his answer. "Let's see if you prepped yourself properly then." You then insert a finger into his hole, making Toji grunt at the intrusion.

You pump the finger in and out, feeling the lube that he recently used still inside. You add another finger to which Toji lets out a moan. You feel him rocking back against your fingers slightly and you place a hand on his back to stop him.

You try to find a specific spot inside him and you know you found it when you curl your fingers, making him let out an embarrassingly loud moan. You add another finger inside. He's already falling apart from your fingers only.

"ah! shit- j-just fucking fuck me already!" He gives you a quick glare. You tut at his behavior.

"Still ordering me around? You should learn by now that I'm the one who gives the orders around here, baby." You curl your fingers once more before pulling them out with a grin. "Well, I guess you're ready."

You grab his hips and line up your strap to his hole, watching it squeeze around nothing.

"Your annoying actions today have riled me up which makes me not want to go easy on you today." Toji lets out a small 'please' to which you pause.

"Please what, Toji?" He looks at you with a flushed face and pleading eyes. The sight makes something in your stomach burn with desire.

"Please don't go easy on me." Toji watches as your eyes turn dark with lust and you immediately plunge your strap into him, quickly making the pace into one that's quick and rough. He lets out a groan.

"f-fuck me!"

You chuckle. "Oh, but that's exactly what I'm doing, darling, fucking you."

His face falls onto his pillow to muffle his screams of pleasure. Each thrust of yours has the bed shaking underneath and you would feel bad for your neighbors if it wasn't for the pretty sight in front of you.

His body is flushed and sweating as all he can do it lay there for your use. His ass is still red from your slap and you have the urge to paint it red with handprints. You spread his ass to watch as his hole greedily sucks in your strap, taking it all as you brutally plunge in and out, not giving him any time to get used to the large size you chose.

Your thrusts, while quick and rough, are deep as well. So deep that it's hitting all the right spots inside Toji and he swears he can feel you in his stomach. You try aiming your strap to the specific spot you found early and find yourself successful when Toji screams into the pillow, his dick shooting out his cum onto the sheets below him without warning.

But you don't stop. And when Toji realizes that, he turns to you with widened eyes only to quickly throw his head back with a loud cry. You eye the way his throat is exposed and you lean forward against his back to grab the sides, giving it a squeeze.

Toji moans as his head goes lightheaded at the lack of oxygen. When you lighten your grip, he feels his head spins as he breathes in the air greedily, letting out gasps and whines.

"N-No more, please!" His eyes roll back and you swear you've fucked him stupid. All he can do is babble out pleas as you continue fucking him dumb. He doesn't even realize that he just came again, his cum dirtying the sheets once more. What a shame, you just washed it yesterday too!

"No more? But you're hard again Toji!" You eye his dick that, even though he just came mere seconds ago, begins to become hard again. He looks down at his dick dumbly with dazed eyes and notices the mess he made underneath his dick.

His legs are quivering from the intense thrusts and he feels his thighs about to give out on him but he feels your arm wrap around his waist to keep him upright.

"See how good I'm fucking you, Toji? You could never do this to me." Your hand goes to his stomach to press on the bulge there, making Toji cry out from the pleasure.

"s-so d-deep."

"Are you even listening to me? Or are you too cockdrunk off my strap to even think properly?" Another thrust from you makes Toji moan loudly.

You tsk at him. "If only you could be a good boy for me, Toji. Then I wouldn't have to punish you like this." You're met with loud whimpers and moans from the man who, if you weren't the one fucking him right now, looks as if you would find him in a lewd porn video with all the noises and facial expressions he's making.

"Well it's not like you're not enjoying this punishment of yours, it's clear that you are." You feel Toji trying to grind back into you, chasing the pleasure.

Every whimper and whine he lets out just let you know how absolutely needy he is. How he absolutely wants you to destroy him until all he can think about is the way your strap is hitting deep inside him, milking his cock with every release you give him.

To see the usually stoic, serious man a mess underneath you as he lets out those delicious noises is something you never thought would happen. But oh are you glad that it did.

Toji cums for the third time that night with a scream, his dick releasing less cum from his previous orgasms.

"Too bad though." You grin devilishly at him even though he's not looking at you or is even bothering to hear what you're saying anymore, too dumbed down by the pleasure. "Since I'll be fucking you until you won't be able to walk tomorrow.

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[sl4sh3rsub]

patrick bateman hcs (nsfw: mdni)

patrick bateman x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warnings: overall pretty toxic, homophobic and misogynistic, there's a lot of infidelity/cheating and drug usage/alcohol too. there is also shaming of sex work - this is purely fictional and i do not condone this behavior in real life. i wrote in these elements because they appear in the original source material, not because i hold these opinions/views. mentions of extreme kink/fetish (knife play, blood play), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), oral sex (giving + receiving), handjobs, cockwarming, implied dom/sub dynamics (patrick is a top + sugar daddy/dom/slight sadist + is entitled, reader is more submissive + sweet), lots of cum + precum/arousal, reader sometimes treated as sex object, marking (bruises, bite marks, hickeys etc.), dubious consent? (overstimulation, he can be manipulative, reader flashes someone in afab section), reference to past rough sexual encounters, lots of sexual tension, patrick is sociopathic(?) + gets hard a lot + is possessive/slightly domestic but still rough, canon colleagues (schrödinger's judgement + they're horny), nipple play, voice kink/voicemail sex, threats/mentions of canon (?) violence (not towards reader), exhibitionism + public settings, consensual filming of sexual acts, gun play/fear play, cigar gets extinguished on reader (research risks properly before trying irl, please stay safe), hired sex worker, mentions of surgery in ftm + mtf sections, rip jean + evelyn's emotions

a/n: i'm a massive fan of the broadway musical (bootleg available on youtube) and i've seen the film twice, but i still need to read the book!! i've listened to this youtube audiobook (ai voice patrick reading it - part one) and it kinda goes hard. anyway, peeb ateman is soft with reader in this one, so it could potentially be a little ooc.

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

patrick is already engaged to evelyn when he meets you. he's very well aware that she's seeing timothy price, so he might as well have his own fun - divorce isn't in fashion this year, so being prepared for that potential outcome might turn some heads and patrick hates judgmental attention

if you're already in a relationship with someone, he'll whisk you away immediately. you deserve so much better than some chump who can't afford to spoil you, he'll prove his superiority with his shiny silver card

show him genuine affection and take interest in his music taste!! if you listen to him and take time out of your day to participate in conversation, he'll abruptly stop mid-sentence to process that you're invested in his recap of his day :( you'll have no issues with him from then out - you respect him and he'll respect you. he's quietly thankful for how kind you are to him

if patrick has a yearning to dabble in a certain kink or fetish - such as knife play or extreme blood play - that you're not willing to participate in, he'll just find someone who can satiate his needs temporarily. no harm done, patrick just wants to make sure he's not taking complete advantage of you - he'll pay for you to have a delicious dinner and fancy hotel for the night, don't worry. he still wants to take care of you and reassure you that no one is taking your place, and that you'll still have him in the morning... he just needs to let out his extreme urges throughout the night

his way of showing affection is brushing his nose against you, whether it be your temple, ear or cheek as he whispers sweet nothings to you. he longs for subtle contact and the gentle warmth of your skin. he's also addicted to burying his face in your neck or pressing his lips against your crown when he fucks you from behind or squirming in his lap, the small puffs of hot air tickling your flushed skin and his lidded eyes rolling at your scent

he digs his fingers into your lower tummy while he fucks you, feeling his cock ram deep inside you - he's shamelessly using you as his own fucktoy, massaging his length to get himself off. the extra pressure against his tip has him shuddering at the delicious sensation

yeah sure, patrick might be a weirdo and a loser but he can fuck you like he loves you (maybe he does) and spare cash to dry-clean your cum off his expensive suits... fair trade, no?

he practically becomes your sugar daddy - you're his personal doll to dress, provide for and parade around proudly. he wouldn't trade the satisfied glint in your eyes, or the rhythm of your glistening arousal dripping on his wood paneled floors for anything. after a long day of spoiling you, he becomes a little selfish in the bedroom and chases his high with no regard for how overstimulated you might get :(

he is obsessed with dressing you to match his personal perception of you - that is to say, have you dressed in a manner that would make atheists reconsider and have the faithful herald you as their new deity. he wants to ensure that everyone know why he worships you the way he does. even if you don't feel confident in your skin, he quietly reassures you that your bashfulness only adds to your charm

you're his personal model and his precious doll - plaything, if you will. after you return to his place from perusing the designer shops, he lounges back with a whiskey in hand and patiently watches you show off your latest purchases on his card. he'll ask you to spin or swap shoes to match the outfit every so often, even asking you to bend down towards him just so he can adjust your collar or hairstyle. if he gets taken aback by how stunning you look in a certain outfit, expect him to get carried away and start panic rambling - he'll explain the specifics of the material, cut or brand as his fingers roam your body with devotion and his eyes greedily drink you in. his voice gets progressively huskier throughout the show until he gets to the expensive undergarments hidden in matte bags and tissue paper - he fucks you in front of the mirror, reveling in the way the material hugs your skin and how your skin shifts as your muscles clench with every thrust

after he warmed up to you, patrick slowly realized how emotionally taxing your early encounters were on you and that you were left feeling used and roughed up afterwards. if he still makes you feel that way after he first admits his affection, definitely let him know - he might want to leave physical marks on you that linger for a week or so after, but emotional damage is the last thing he wants marring your relationship

something that resembles quiet devotion lingers in his gaze, the glint of chandeliers flashing as he quickly shakes his head and denies he was ever staring :( sure, you might not be the stereotypical 'hardbody', but you're more worth his time than all of the other whores that his cock stirs for - you're leagues better than the sluts turning tricks and actually deserve a place in his home, his bed, unlike the simple chicks he picks up from clubs. he actually respects you (though, not enough to acknowledge your independence away from him) and his silent approval - pride, even - of your actions sometimes slips through his mask

whenever you're in the room with him, there is an invisible yet tangible tension that tugs you together. the warm, compressing feeling always hones your vision onto patrick - it drowns out all of the noises and movement around you, grounding you in the all-consuming gaze of your lover. his eyes snap to yours whenever you enter the room and he instinctively feels a bulge growing in his slacks, his pupils dilating as his tongue darts out to dampen his lips. no polite conversation or mundane styling drivel is worth his time when you are in his field of view

patrick genuinely feels his blood thunder in his ears whenever the men at the table make snide remarks about your appearance or belittle you. he is absolutely disgusted at their attitudes and lack of understanding - you are his darling and you deserve to be treated as his equal, at a minimum. however, if the table murmurs about how sexy you look, he's more than willing to show you off a bit - he's proud of what's his, obviously! just don't let the boys get too bold with their 'polite' touches or they won't have fingers in the morning :<

he'll buy you a ring. not to propose, oh god no - he doesn't want to do the whole evelyn debacle again. patrick wants to simply state his territory and claim so that others would be less inclined to approach you (plus, it helps that he doesn't have to vividly daydream about it anymore - it saves brain power)

if he rushes home with dirty, damp gloves and a missing button on his overcoat, he'll forever be indebted to you if you pour him a stiff drink and prepare to call jean to postpone all events the next day

your head gets all fuzzy when his tongue drags along the line of your collarbone and his soft lips ghost down your chest - circling your nipple and threatening you with the edge of his teeth makes the edge of his mouth twist into a smirk. if you meet his gaze, his lidded eyes give away how content he is in this position, with you on top of his lap. his lips sheened with spit and your buttoned shirt yanked open make for an arousing sight

patrick is a big fan of smoking his cigars while you sloppily take his cock down your throat - he gets some sadistic pleasure from putting them out on your spit-soaked thighs, the drool hissing under the scorching heat. it's coincidentally also one of his favourite things to reminisce, running his fingers over your thighs while replaying those memories during boring social events. the scent of his expensive smoke, wafting around him in a saloon, has him drifting back to the sight of his hefty cock resting on your face - the length throbbing with every heartbeat, pearls of salty precum seeping into your soft skin and trailing in thin rivulets down the contours of cheekbone

he is a fan of sneaking a dab of his yves saint lauren perfume onto all of your formal wear, a little mark of him and something to keep you company whenever you're out at functions he's not attending

he drags you out to clubs just to dress you up and show you off under the bright, colourful flashing lights. you have his eye the entire time you're feeling yourself on the dance floor, tempting him your sensual movements from across the room - don't expect him to act on it immediately though, he's more than content to hold your gaze and sip his glass from the bar. if some sleaze dares to get handsy with you, he'll step in and guide you towards the bathroom as his fingers glide down to your lower back - he needs a bump to loosen up and not hurt every single chump eyeing you up. you're his plaything, after all.

if you spend a night at patrick's place, he'll secretly love taking showers with you - only because you help him rub in his cleansers and soaps into his skin, no other reason. certainly not that your devoted, admiring gaze make him flush and whisper his timid thanks under the steady stream of water, the noise lost in the pounding around your ears. ignore his building arousal, it'll stay there and grow even harder when he pleasures you with his tongue on the counter of his stainless-steel kitchen. you're the only one he'll kneel for, and you bet that there's a steamed-up outline of your ass on the countertop when he's done :3

despite his incessant need to fit in, he's never going to blend in while you remain by his side. you bring out that rare smile of his and that soft chuckle in public settings. you far outshine all the other, dull plus-ones at the dinner parties

you are patrick's trump card - everyone he knows either wants to be you or fuck you, they'll do anything to impress (especially if there's false hope of ending the night in bed with one or both of you)

if you're confident enough, you could be his personal little pornstar!! it makes you so giddy, the knowledge that he could show the snippets of the videos to his coworkers (who dream about getting you naked) and make them jealous of the fact that you've cum numerous times with patrick's name on your lips. the video is recorded on the best equipment of course - he can't have you on video while looking anything less than godlike on camera

he orders your favourite dishes at every restaurant, combs and brushes out your hair when you arrive at his apartment, then fucks you roughly while whispering how thankful he is for you. his babbling pleas for you to stay and praise of your existence echo in your mind for hours after, especially as he rests next to you with steady breathing

patrick leaves hickeys and bite marks all over you and while he might apologise while handing you anti-bruise supplements, know that his mind's eye is stuck on the sigh of your skin blossoming under his lips - specifically, the feeling of his teething nipping your skin and the small hum of satisfaction as he pulls away to inspect his work. if you've been good lately, he'll let you leave a hickey or mark on his chest - it's only fair after he leaves you bruised and aching in his arms the next morning :( if you've behaved to his liking, he'll share some of his japanese pear and kiwi for breakfast. you need some sugar to recoup anyway

if he's been snappy or pent up all day, he'll guilt you into taking him with minimal prep - he will snap and go feral if he's had to rein it in at work, plus the stretch feels heavenly around his thick cock

patrick had once ordered a prostitute for the two of you to experiment with - making sure they were a fair balance between your ideal types, bodywise. this plan went a little off script after the foreplay when you and patrick ended up exploring your exhibitionist sides, passionately kissing and languidly exploring each other's bodies while the hire slowly touched themselves at the sight. that precious hour or so was the easiest pay that person had ever made (you and patrick were far from unattractive), plus that champagne that you poured out was heavenly

patrick has you suck him off during skincare routines in the morning and evening, making sure to cum all down your throat. he insists it's good protein for you!! kneeling in front of the bathroom countertop has become second nature to you, the divine sight of your rugged lover above you routinely making you feel at ease

you had better be friends with his secretary jean because you'll see her a lot. if she gets jealous and her failed attempts at sleeping with him affect her capabilities, patrick will simply hire a different secretary. sure, he'll love to flaunt you and taunt them about how they aren't fucking either of you, but that's just part of his fun. he might use the empty threat of fucking you in front of the secretary as a way to keep you from acting out, but he's too possessive to have someone in a different tax bracket see you laid bare

get him spa day gift cards!! you can both spend time in private saunas or pools simply enjoying each other's presence and use the time to caress each other's bodies. use the opportunity to get a full body massage - when patrick has had a rough week, you're more than likely going to end up with a couple bruises and a few sore muscles

while he's never been the most domestic man, the image of you flitting back and forth in his pristine kitchen flicks a switch in patrick's brain. your earnest efforts of making him his breakfast bran muffins and churning his apple butter has him daydreaming of keeping you in his apartment like a pet - at his beck and call constantly, dusting his expensive furniture and preparing his meals whenever he comes home... not to mention how you'd willingly bend over or drop to your knees in a heartbeat if he so desired

if patrick is riding an adrenaline (or cocaine) high when he returns to you, be very careful and tread lightly. he may have an itch to clean his axe or handguns, polishing them until the late hours of the night. when he's in a jittery and frantic state, he isn't above having you spread out on his polished floor as something nice to look at while assembling the firearms, and he's certainly not against fucking you roughly while holding the gun to your head or body. he's even aroused by the though of you sucking off his uzi, spit-slicked metal knocking your teeth as your glistening eyes widen in fear

when you sleep next to him, he might jolt awake at night before realizing your shifting movements pose no threat to him, especially when you're locked into his arms with your soft breath brushing against his skin. when he gazes at you in these dimly lit moments, his mask slips until he feels a semblance of happiness - there's no discomfort, jealousy or boredom, he's content with you against him like this. after a long while of his breathing filling the dark room, his mind forces his walls back up and reverts him back to his usual self just as he drifts to sleep. no one can ever see him like that, see what your presence does to him... not even you

he has a penchant for fucking you infront of his toshiba 30-inch television, a porno tape or horror movie often playing. he loves the way screams - either of ecstasy or pain - fill his ears as you moan beneath him, the colours of the screen dancing on your skin. his cock always pulses just that little bit more whenever you bite his thumb and take his dick deep inside you as the film plays in the background. red is suck a sexual and raw colour after all, why not have the bright screen fill your vision as you cum on his cock? the vibrance drowns out all other stimuli, forcing you to focus on his presence in and around you

imagine the shock on evelyn's face when she shows up unannounced at patrick's place one late afternoon- he's swaying to heuy louis and the news, hands on your hips as you giggle and pour him a glass. his silk shirt loosely buttoned just covers your modesty as he soothingly rubs circles on your thigh, soft grin fading as his gaze frosts over at the sight of his betrothed. she sniffs, scandalized at the sight infront of her, and tells patrick to not bother contacting her - tim price's phone will be unplugged the moment she arrives at his place. to be honest, patrick could not care less. you're in his arms and he knows for a fact that evelyn will be over it soon - if not, there's a more suitable marriage candidate right in front of him. if you feel bad or guilty after evelyn leaves, patrick will do his best with his hands, thick cock, tongue and credit card to soothe your worries

expect patrick to leave desperate and vaguely threatening voice mail messages - his heavy, stuttered breaths echoing in your ears as the slick sounds in the background get you more and more worked up. the depraved ramblings deepen and get hoarser with each passing minute, so you'd better pray jean doesn't walk in - she isn't worthy of seeing him in such a disheveled and flushed state

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

luis is the most understanding of patrick's work bunch - he isn't shy to defend you and be seen in public as your friend, once you are comfortable telling him your secret of course. just make sure everyone knows you're not a part of that yale thing and you'll be fine

although he isn't keen on being open about his relationship with you - for fear of his colleagues and fellow acquaintances of wall street making derogatory comments towards him, or worse, you - majority of the men already have some closeted urge to spend the night with you, yearning to take bateman's place in your bed. let's face it, the cocaine, competition and firm handshakes can only do so much to hide the growing homoerotic tensions between the coworkers. your appeal is wider than you realise, as the compliments and lingering gazes at events would have most outsiders questioning if carruthers was the only gay man present in the social circle

in large social gatherings - such as big dinner parties or company events - patrick is able to hide his hand under the table and keep a poker face while unbuttoning your fly, untucking your shirt and slowly palming you for his own amusement. his bragging of designer clothing, company roles and mentions of a nice house he procured - for you to move into, of course - easily distract the other people on the table from what's happening in their vicinity

if his j&b on the rocks isn't hitting the spot or the cigars his colleagues are smoking feel heavy in his lungs, he'll drag you into the men's room - assuming there's no one in the other stalls, of course. his fly is halfway undone by the time your knees and expensive slacks hit the tiles, his hands mussing your slicked back hair. you'd better take his cock down your throat to the best of your abilities - you don't want an audience to witness you choking and spluttering on bateman's length, do you? of course not, they'll ostracize you in a heartbeat (or so patrick says), so you had better not complain or splutter when he pinches your nose shut and shoots hot ropes down your throat

whenever patrick fucks your ass, he ensures that his mark is left on your supple skin for days later - whether it be a handprint-shaped bruise, crescent nail marks or scratches along your thighs, he needs to have you remembering how well he fucks you. as you sit down, adjust your pants or even just accidentally back into something, patrick is suddenly at the forefront of your mind

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

patrick buys you the finest jewelry and nicest accessories that money can buy - the deal is that you give him handjobs with the sparkling rings on and kisses with the expensive lipstick, luxurious material framing your figure like a dream. he is especially a fan of you wearing jewels that match your eye colour or makeup - when he lifts your hand to press a polite kiss on your fingers, the glittering in your eyes matching his gifts makes his heart skip a beat

when you cockwarm him, his length is so hefty and makes you feel so stretched - the weight grounds you as you struggle to gain friction against your poor neglected clit. you always feel so full when you're perched on his lap, the girth enough to turn off your brain and make you drool. sometimes when patrick is feeling bold, he prepares your outfit for the day and ensures that you're wearing a cute little skirt for easy access :( he can be selfish sometimes, on the occasion that he solely thinks with his dick

patrick loves pushing your knees up to your chest as he fucks you deeply in missionary - the feeling of your swollen pussy lips brushing against his veiny base and your clit grinding against his pubic bone gets him more worked up than he'll ever admit

it's fairly normal to have patrick's hand drift towards your chest in the back of a taxi, his face buried in the crook of your neck. keep your noises quiet or the driver might be curious about what's happening in the backseat. his cold fingers harshly pinching and tugging at your nipples make you abruptly moan into the brisk air in the back of the car, patrick subtly palming himself to the tortured whines leaving your lips. if you make eye contact with the driver, mouth that you're sorry for patrick's behaviour and try to save your dignity by biting your lip to avoid any loud noises. if they make direct eye contact with patrick first, however, expect him to pull a smug grin and flash your breasts to the angled rear-view mirror. he might even hike up your skirts to show off your soaked, borderline see-through panties. sneak the poor driver a tip on your way out because he nearly caused an accident, losing all brain function as his blood immediately drained from his head and rushed to his cock :<

patrick buys you two little platinum charms with a necklace chain, his initials engraved on the back of the heart shaped pendant. the other little shape is an axe, the edge of the blade set with tiny red garnets!! he is main motivation for having you wear it constantly is the fact that it makes a small clinking noise as you bounce on his cock, breasts swaying and your glimmering skin making the necklace a truly beautiful sight to patrick

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his admiring hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

if you're only just getting into wearing masculine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his man and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

you're lucky his designer boxers are easy to clean! every time he catches sight of your muscles tensing, he's undoubtedly leaking into the material. when you're stretching and your shirt rides up, when you grab something from the top shelf or even when you crouch to tie your shoelace - his cock doesn't discriminate so you'd better expect a small, darkening patch. the musk at the end of the day has such a heady rush when you kneel in front of him, his sweaty underwear mere inches from your lips. patrick swears you give his dick a heartbeat whenever you make out with his bulge and especially when you sloppily give him head :3

bateman is a huge fan of quickies with you before meetings with your mutual colleagues - he's booked for lunch after, there's no other time in his schedule to empty his heavy, full balls into you :( his favourite way to spend those precious moments is with you bent over his polished desk, expensive pants crumpled at your ankles and your precum dripping onto the carpet. he is a massive fan of teasing you by pushing his cockhead into your slick boycunt and stroking his cock, edging his length until you're whimpering from the need to be filled. he mocks you for being needy and massages his balls when he finally fills your warm hole with thick, potent ropes of cum. he leaves you unsatisfied and leaking his load for the whole meeting :( splash your face with water and try not to squirm too much in your seat - patrick's classic shit-eating grin might give away the events that transpire mere moments before you both walked into the boardroom

mtf hcs

patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

patrick keeps himself well put together and likes to treat you to manicures on shared days out. he'll ask his friend's girls for the best nail salon in the area and insists taking you. after he comes along to pick you up and pay after the set is finished, sometimes he'll immediately take your hands and hum his approval at the colour or design. other times, he'll give you his overcoat and hide your nails until you get in a private area, bathroom or the back of a car - the reveal of your new nails when you slowly stroke his cock, spit slicked hand glistening, makes his eyes roll back in pleasure. your heated gaze and slightly flushed face makes him grin, happy that you're willing to drool on his cock and flaunt his money proudly. the perfect girl, in his opinion :>

if you're only just getting into wearing feminine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his girl and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

patrick's favourite evening activity is fucking you in a mating press - his cock filling you and hitting that deep spot inside you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he loves the sight of your girldick bouncing on your tummy and the shine of your dribbling arousal smearing on your skin. nothing beats a relaxed evening with your tight hole warming his throbbing length

_ _ _ _ _

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

[tsxkkis]

omg omg can i request? pls ignore if you dont!

s3 of haikyuu will always be my favourite season, maybe due to the fact that tsukishima realizes his potential in playing volleyball? (him having his MOMENT is my favouriteee scene)

so could you write gf manager reader x tsukki, where reader witnesses him having his first moment (blocking ushijima's spike), injuring his hand etc etc up until they receive their throphy and medals in the end ?🥹🥹💕 shes a proudddd reader and literally just smooch smooch hug hug tsukki because hes the mvp of karasuno x shiratorizawa 🥰😤

i realized that theres nobody includes this scene in their fics and i wonder why? 🤔🧐

# tsukishima kei - mvp

a/n: i am terribly sorry anon bcs this took so long T-T i'm not quite sure about some parts of this fic but overall i really enjoyed writing this request!! tsukishima is my fav for many reasons, one of which being the fact that i see myself in him a lot, and the particular moment during the shiratorizawa vs karasuno match is also my fav from the entire series!! i hope u enjoy reading this fic^^ i feel like it's not exactly what you asked for, so i'm sorry if i went too far away from your idea....

summary: tsukishima finally regains his love for volleyball.

warnings: a few swear words here and there, the fic doesn't exactly portray what happened in the series (i switched it up a bit)

'are you stressed?'

'not even a bit.'

'you're lying. i can read you like a book.'

tsukishima kei let out a deep breath, rolling his eyes as he looked away from your face. you were obviously right; there was no way he wouldn't be stressed before the game that determined whether or not karasuno would go to nationals. as much as he hated to admit it, he was almost as stressed as others. he was just better at controlling which of his emotions are shown.

you squeezed his hand, his fingers instinctively intertwining with yours. all it took was a reassuring smile from you to help with his nerves, his muscles finally relaxing after being tensed up for the last twenty minutes or so. he still tried to get used to you being more than a friend. your relationship was quite awkward and fresh, so much so in fact that you never even had your first kiss yet.

'i'm sure you'll do great.' you stated calmly, trying to hide the fact that you were even more stressed about the match than him. 'in fact, i'm positive that you'll win.'

'even if we do, it won't be because of me.' he mumbled, letting out a silent laugh when he saw the angry look on your face. 'oh, come on. it's not like i'm the greatest player this team has.'

'you know i hate it when you talk down on yourself.' you said, the tone serious and sharp, rather unusual for you. it stayed like that for only a short while, taken over by a softer, understanding one. 'you're a vital part of this team, tsukishima. winning this match is not up to a single person. it's a team effort. your input is as important as that of kageyama or hinata.'

he opened his mouth to say something but was instantly stopped by the voice of his captain, daichi, calling the team up to quickly warm up as the match was about to start.

you smiled at the boy, letting go of his hand before lightly patting him on the back.

'do your best for me, alright?'

'i will.' a barely noticeable smile appeared on his face, his hand affectionately ruffling your hair. 'don't worry too much about it.'

you finally realized why tsukishima kei never tried more. why he would never stay longer like other karasuno players to polish his skills, why he didn't truly seem to love the sport he chose to play in high school.

'you're insufferable, you know?' his words sent shivers down your spine. 'why don't you leave it the fuck alone?'

opposite forces, some might say. no one really knew what drew you and tsukishima to eachother - both of you completely different from one another, and yet oh so similar at the same time. frustration took over you every time you looked at him, and now you knew why.

he was like a mirror in which you could see all your flaws, and it irritated you a great deal.

his outlook on life and the way he viewed himself made you furious. how can someone be so full of contradictions? so cocky and confident, and yet so vulnerable and self depreciating at the same time. so full of himself and yet so hateful towards the person he saw in the reflection of every window, every mirror.

how can someone so great at what they do, so intelligent and talented, be so critical?

'because i can't! i can't leave it alone, you absolute moron.' the thought of how loud you were didn't stop you from continuing to shout, a mixed look on your face that tsukishima couldn't quite decipher. were you angry or sad? and why the hell would it bug you so much to evoke such strong emotions within you?

'you're saying i'm insufferable? from the moment i laid my eyes on you, you've been nothing but insufferable. so much so, that i want to gouge them out every time they spot you.' you ignored your watery eyes and tsukishima's surprised face, almost as if he didn't expect you to blow up like this. 'it pains me to see you be so full of doubt and hatred and i- i can't understand why you would think so lowly of yourself, why you feel inferior to the other guys in every way possible, when you could be so much more than them. do you even realize your potential, tsukishima?'

he stayed silent. for the first time since knowing you, tsukishima kei did not have an answer to your words.

'your doubts are so irrational i don't know if it makes me angry or sad. you're truly incredible on the court. you're intelligent, you can read the opponents well, you have the physical predispositions for volleyball and a natural talent that you choose to ignore because-'

'but what is talent without passion?'

that singular sentence managed to catch you off guard so much you had no idea how to answer him. such a simple question, and yet such a philosophical, confusing one.

'why should i put my all into something i'm not even passionate about, huh?' tsukishima tried to keep his composed nature, but it was hard to stay intact after what you've said. as much as he did not want to admit it, your words hit him deeply. 'why waste my time and energy for something that does not give me any satisfaction at all? tell me that, because i have no fucking idea.'

'passion is not something that dissapears once and never shows up again, you idiot.' you took a step closer, as if that was going to help you get your point across. 'if your passion is genuine, it will always be there. whether small or big, it will always crawl around in the back of your mind. if you ever truly loved volleyball, the moment where you fall in love with it again will come sooner or later.'

your words were met with complete silence, but you didn't mind. tsukishima slowly processed your words, a focused look gracing his face, lips in a tight line. even though it was only a couple of minutes, for you it felt like hours - awaiting an answer, any answer at all.

tsukishima moved closer, his tall frame hovering over you as he wrapped his arms around you, catching you in a tight hug, much to your surprise.

'thank you.' he mumbled quietly, glad that in this very moment you couldn't see his face, and the stupid smile plastered to it.

the moment where you fall in love with it again will come sooner or later.

tsukishima's mind lingered over these words whenever he played, awaiting this moment to come almost eagerly. the match was particularly hard - with ushijima wakatoshi as their opponent, the chances of winning were incredibly slim. every spike of his went through the block, his serves were absolutely killer, and his teammates did everything to deliver the ball to him at all costs.

what a hassle.

you noticed that his demeanor on the court changed from what it used to be. tsukishima seemed more invested now - almost as if he was trying to impress you, to keep his word. as happy as it made you, you were still anxious about the match and it's final score, hand shaky and a bit sweaty as your eyes followed the ball flying around from one side of the net to another.

another spike from ushijima, it'll probably be another point for shiratoriza-

and that's when you realized.

you saw the ball hit the ground on shiratorizawa's side of the net surprised gasps from everyone watching the match. you saw the shocked look on ushijima's face, the horror in the eyes of his teammates as the ball bounced off of the floor for the second, third, fourth time.

silence took over the court for just a mere second, quickly interrupted by tsukishima's triumphant scream.

he looked more than content with his performance. he looked... happy.

the rest of the boys joined him, screaming in unison. it was just one point, right? but for some reason, for both you and tsukishima, this one was worth a thousand.

for the first time in years, tsukishima kei felt that his spark for volleyball came back.

you noticed that his eyes were now focused on you, a full, cheeky smile gracing his face, and it only made you tear up. a short moment, probably insignificant for people around, but for the two of you it was like a breath of fresh air, like getting rid of the shackles that once held you in place, enabling you from moving forward.

'y/n, are you... alright?' coach ukai looked with his brows slightly furrowed, confused by your teary eyes and big grin plastered to your face.

'yeah, yeah, i'm fine. sorry, coach.' you mumbled, bowing a little as your eyes focused on the court. 'actually, could kiyoko replace me here for the rest of the match? i'm not quite feeling well.'

'tsukishima is injured.'

'what?' akiteru spoke in unison with you, terrified voices mixing together as you looked down from the stands to see the boy walking off of the court and rushing to the medical office along with kiyoko. your instincts took over you - feet moving on their own as you quickly ran towards the same place.

the two blondes followed right behind you, stopping only when in front of the door to the medical office, gasping for air after such a short run. as athletic as your boyfriend was, you were quite the opposite; getting tired after a little to no physical activity at times.

tsukishima saw your head peeking through the doorframe, a small smile on his face the moment he laid eyes on you.before you opened your mouth to say something, he already gave you an answer.

'yes, i feel fine.' he stated quietly, sitting down on the edge of a chair. 'you don't need to worry.'

'are you going back on court?' he only gave you a small nod in response, seemingly feeling better already as he stood up, his hand taped up.

you looked up at him, taking in the expression on his face, just how focused he already was. he looked almost as if he already had a plan to defeat shiratorizawa in this match. seeing him so eager to go back and play almost made you laugh a little - you swore you never saw him get this invested into something ever.

'go and win then.' you mumbled, patting him on the shoulder as he headed towards the gym hall.

'oh don't worry. we will.'

you couldn't stop the tears rolling down your cheeks as you saw karasuno emerge victorious from the hardest volleyball match they had to play this year, hugging yachi tightly as both of you celebrated the win of your team.

the triumphant screams filled the gym hall, the team emotional after doing what many deemed impossible. as most of them enjoyed themselves, not planning on leaving the euphoric state for a long while, tsukishima could only think of doing one thing - going to you.

you were the only person he truly wanted to celebrate with.

after the ceremony of getting the medals, to everyone's utmost shock, considering your relationship wasn't exactly public, tsukishima went up to you almost immediately, a cocky smile on his face as he ruffled your hair, looking down at you from behind his glasses.

'you didn't exactly look quite as content with your performance before getting the prize.' you mumbled, looking at the blonde haired boy with your head tilted to the side.

'well, i could've blocked more of ushijima's spikes.' he started, rolling his eyes at the sole idea of not being able to do that during today's match. 'i only managed to block one and-'

you decided to use the only method that was for sure going to shut him up in that moment, lightly grabbing him by the tshirt and pulling him closer, lips clashing for a split second in a short, sweet kiss.

'no talking down on yourself today, kei.' you said, unconsciously smiling as you saw his face getting red at what you just did, cheeks covered by a tomato-like red colour. 'i'm proud of you no matter what you think about today's match.'

he stood still for a few seconds, as if processing what had just happened seconds ago, the redness on his face deepening with each passing moment. his hand was quick to grab yours, almost dragging you away from the team and to a more private, less occupied area of the building.

'do that again.' he mumbled, after he finally led you to a quiet hallway.

'huh?'

'it was... nice.'

your eyes lit up, a cheeky smile gracing your face as you finally realized what he was on about.

'ohh, you want another kiss?' you said teasingly, eyes quickly glancing from his face down to his lips. he rolled his eyes, unamused by your act of playing dumb.

'come on, don't make me repeat myself.' still somewhat embarrassed of what he was asking for, tsukishima stood in one place, awaiting your next action.

a sigh left your lips as you took a step towards your boyfriend, standing on your tippy toes to be able to reach his face.

'alright. i guess you deserve it, match mvp.'

your arms were wrapped around his neck in no time as your lips gently touched his, tsukishima immediately kissing you back, hands positioned on your waist as you felt a smile creeping up on his face. he let out a short laugh, seeing your face being just as red as his was moments ago, hand reaching to squeeze yours.

'what?' you mumbled, as he hasn't spoken a word since breaking the kiss.

'that's surely the best prize i got today.'

taglist: @moonswolfie @wyrcan @kitsune-kita

[readychilledwine]

may i pretty please request a little cassian one shot where it’s a very out going reader who is NOT shy at all and never balks from anything unless it’s sex related and cassian absolutely loves undoing her once she gives in and making her all flustered and needy with his little taunts. LORD—

specifically from the smut prompt list:

“I know you’re not shy, so come here.” or like “Use your words, baby.” with a possible sprinkle of exhibitionism oh pls pls pls pls if this makes sense idk lol

Good Girl

Summary - Your birthday celebration at Rita's becomes Cassian's golden chance to end your 2 year shy and dry streak.

Warnings - voyeurism/exhibitionism, smut, fingering, oral, hair pulling, choking, spanking, unprotected sex, possession/ownership kink, dirty talk, cream pie

A/N - Happy Birthday, @sarawritestories! I was already finishing up this request, and your birthday actually made finishing this one shot easier. I wanted Cassian to have a special reason to fulfill one of reader's fantasies.

I hope you and my tumblr baby, @loneliestluvr enjoy this so so much 💕

✨️Cassian Masterlist✨️General Masterlist✨️

Cassian was watching you like a hawk tonight. Eyes glued on how your body danced in time to the music, to how Mor touched you as you two moved in time. He hated when you acted like this, so bold and brave in public. So okay with being touched by anyone but him. Talking a big bold game in your book club with Amren, Feyre, and Mor about wild sex you've never had.

You two had been mates for over 2 years, yet heated kisses and heavy petting was as far as you had let him go. It was driving him feral. Every time he had tried to get you into his bed or prepared to crawl on his knees to get into yours, it was something. “My cycle,” or “a headache,” or “Not a good body day,” whatever the fuck that meant. You were perfect to him. Curves in all the right places just begging and teasing him to touch. Cassian craved to be the reason your thighs clenched, to just once be the reason his shy girl screamed. He felt his lust growing as you and Mor approached the table, and the way your scarlet red birthday dress clinged to your figure, sparkling in the lights, made it worse. 

His mate, his love, looked like the picture perfect face of innocence in his color when he knew the nasty things you read about, talked about, and fantasized about was too much. “Come with me,” Cassian's alluring voice hit your ear so softly. You took his hand, following him with both of you carrying your drinks in hand. 

As Cassian pulled you further into Rita's, you began to blush. The lights had turned to a deep shade of red, doors locked and glowing to indicate they were occupied while some were open. Cassian smirked and pulled you into  his goal room, thankful that for once, it was empty. As if the Mother had intended for this night to go exactly as he wanted. He had you against the glass wall instantly when the door shut.

“Why are we in here,” your face began to flush his favorite shade of pink. Glaze tinted glass was the only thing separating you and Cassian from the rest of Rita's. The private room of the pleasure hall was reserved for only the most bold couples, showing just their silhouettes as they partook in activities you could hardly dream of. 

Cassian trapped you between him and that glass, towering over you, “Don't get shy on me now, baby.” His lips crashed on yours after the request, hot and heavy as he lifted you and forced your legs around his waist. You didn't know if it was the shots helping you relax, or your hope to have finally had birthday sex with Cassian, but here you were, moaning softly into his kiss as he pulled your hair back and began kissing down your throat and nipping softly. 

“Need you to be a good girl for me,” you shivered at his murmured words. “Going to fulfill that dirty little fantasy of yours. Give you the best birthday present." You couldn't help the soft moan and smile, knowing instantly what he meant.

This room was visible behind the bar. The silhouettes of the people inside dancing like shadows on that glass for all to see as they ordered their drinks. You had dreamed for years of being taken in this room and had made the mistake of drunkenly sharing that fact with Rhys and Azriel. 

Cassian began to untie the corset laces of your dress, suddenly annoyed by the back that the whole back was held together by the ribbon instead of him having to deal with just one small area. But Gods, it hugged you in the best places, showing your curves and dips in a way that had him drooling for you. He could hardly wait as it finally fell to the floor and you were bare beneath. He quickly set you on the lounging chair, knowing you were in view of everybody.

He'd never undressed himself so quickly, growling at the sight of your soft skin. Be wasted no time trailing his kisses lower. Worshiping each of your nipples until they came to perfect peaks. “Such a beautiful girl. My little exhibitionist.” He continued his path lower, nipping at your hips before kissing down your luscious thighs. He held eye contact with you then, as his kisses trailed up in the inside of your right thigh. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

The question lit a fire inside of you, body now aching for more of him, to please him, “Yes, General.” He smirked as his title rolled off your tongue before licking up your core. The taste of you made him hum. And he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves slightly before circling and flicking it with his tongue. He repeated that after watching your head fall back and your body arch. 

He took his time, tasting every drop of you and rotating between sucking your clit and pushing his tongue as deep into you as he could. Your legs began to tremble below him after denying your body what you had craved for so long. You both knew it would be fast, hot, and passionate. You could worship each other at home, but here, here was built for sin, nothing more, nothing less.

Cassian began to slowly work a thick finger into you, stretching you open for him while his mouth focused on your swollen bundle of nerves. Your body felt as if you were burning alive as your stomach felt tighter and tighter. Moans and pants falling into breathless noises. Cassian listened with sick pride as his normally composed and eloquent mate began crumbling for him, because of him. 

He looked up and saw your pleading eyes, “What do you need? Use your words, baby.” He smirked as he went back to working your core, prepping you for your first time taking an Illyrian.

“More, please General, more,” you finally begged for him, eyes rolling back as your back arched hard. He worked a second finger into you, growling at how tight you were, at the thought of how good you'd feel around him. You cried out as his fingers finally found the spot he'd been looking for and curled into it. Moments passed like breaths, his name repeated over and over until you finally gave him what he wanted, your release. 

He knew other fae could hear you screaming his name in ecstasy, but he could not bring himself to care as he worked you down from the High. “That's my good girl,” he groaned as he pulled his mouth from you, licking his lips to savor every bit of your essence before pulling his fingers out and holding them to your mouth, “I want you to clean them. I want you to taste the nectar of a Goddess.”

The words hit exactly how he needed them and you became hazy eyed, licking and sucking his digits as an almost tingly feeling settled into your body. As soon as you were done, he flipped you over, pulling your hips in the air before you could try to protest or return any favors. Tonight was for you. For your pleasure, and he was just getting started.

You gasped as the feel of his cock lined up and sitting at your entrance, “Hold on to something, y/n.” He pushed in hard before you could respond, forcing you to plant both hands on the glass and keeping you trapped. “So fucking tight. The prettiest and most perfect pussy.” His pace became relentless quickly. Hand coming down on your ass before squeezing it hard. 

There were no words or noises coming from your mouth, just bliss making your jaw fall open in silence. You felt like you were drooling, drunk on him, on his feeling, on the way you could feel every vein and he pushed and pulled. But you weren't close enough for Cassian, and soon he grabbed you by your hair, forcing you to arch your back as he kept pounding into you. Your shoulders met his lower chest as his other hand moved to your front, brushing your clit slowly and teasingly. “Do you know how long I've waited,” his voice was low and deep, filled with his own pleasure. “Been dreaming about you going dumb on my cock for years and here you are, unable to even speak.”

You could only whimper in response as his hand moved from your hair to your throat, testing your limitations. “I could stay inside you forever,” his head fell back. “Love this body of yours forever. So fucking perfect. Every godsdamned inch of you.” The praise hit you, pushing you towards the edge again as his pace became sloppy. “Not going to last, baby. Cauldron this pussy. Best pussy I've ever had.”

That made you gasp, eyes lighting up in excitement, “Yeah? You love filling me, don't you?” His smirk grew at your response. “You love knowing my pussy is all yours, huh?”

He growled, a feral instinct waking up with those words. His fingers began to move fast in your clit, forcing words to turn to cursing, moans, and whimpers. “All fucking mine. My mate. My wife. My good girl. Mine,” the edge in his voice left no room for arguments, no way to fight and even try to claim otherwise if you had wanted. “Scream. Scream my name so every single soul in Velaris knows who you belong to.”

Your lip trembled as how close you were and you moaned his name, “Cassian-”

“Louder.”

His pace became impossibly quick and your mind became numb to anything but the pleasure of him hitting your gspot over and over while his fingers worked your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Cassian!”

“Come. Come for your General.”

You came screaming his name so loudly you were sure all of Velaris did know who you belonged to. Your core began fluttering around Cassian, triggering is own orgasm. He pumped himself deep inside of you, releasing directly into your heat as he groaned your name. 

He squeezed your throat gently when you both came down before releasing it, allowing your sore body to rest as his head found the spot between your shoulder blades. The room was heavy in the scent of your shared bond as it hummed and burned brightly between the two of you. “I'm never going a day without you again,” Cassian panted before turning your head to kiss you softly. “Happy Birthday, y/n."

General Taglist:

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[ravisinghs-wife]

The seven + Nico and Reyna and their red flags ✼

warnings: not proofread, swearwords, lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: okay I'm sorry I didn't post for like two months, ngl I simply forgot that this blog existed😭

notes to the fic: reader is written as gn (one mention off y/n), but pls don't read Nico's part if u identify as female! :)

masterlist

Percy

he's always barefoot during spring and summer

you'll never catch him with shoes on because he things that they are "blocking the fresh air his toes need"

at least they never get that dirty because he can't survive five minutes without jumping in the sea

when he was younger sally had to force him wear shoes to school, to the parkt et cetera and he was always so angry at her after that because he hated it with all his passion

that anger quickly faded after she baked some blue cookies

after growing up he learned that he should wear shoes to school et cetera but the second he is at camp he gets rid of them

after you dressed it he delegated that he always washed them and kept them clean so there was no wrong doing it and that it's actually healthy for your feet

Annabeth

listen, I love annabeth

but she's always mansplaining

Like u could be talking about ur close family that she only met once and she‘d say something like „actually, i had the impression that…“

It’s so annoying

she doesn't even mean it mean or something

but it also could be just a conversasiation that she isn't even involved in and she'll just randomly pop up and mansplain the topic

jason

That boy doesn’t have any basic knowledge

Like he is at camp jupiter since he’s three or something

I‘m not sure if they even knew what they where teaching him

Like that boy doesn’t know algebra

You could be talking about something in history and how deeply that event infected the way society lives now and he‘d be like „what do you mean?“

And he’s serious

Everytime Percy and Leo make fun of him for not knowing something he‘ll run to you and beg you to explain it to him

Most of the time you make a bit fun of him too because a 17 year old boy who doesn’t know what the french Revolution was is kinda funny

He knows that you‘re just joking though

hazel

I love her but she's like one of the extra careful mom's whose world break when their child hears a swear word

every time you are someone near both of ou swears she has this weird shocked and impressed look and looks around the room

you had to stop swearing around her bc she always starts blushing and looks at you in awe

they don't even have to be the "bad" swear words, it could be something like shit and she'd still be shocked

you had to learn to find alternatives like fudge or fox

she made you browse for the alternatives to swear words for around two hours at midnight and made you subscribe to the mommy blogs incase they had "more cool little alternatives"

piper

she's a die hard romance book hater

she always gives you the weird look when you read one or even only look at one at the bookstore

like she doesn't even have a plausible reason besides that they "always have the same ending and are very predictable"

I mean she's right but still

when she was 14 she had an instagram where she just talked shit about romance books because she was bored

it's not even that she doesn't like reading or books that much, she just doesn't like them because they (as already said) have the same ending and because she gor sick of the perfect romantic ending after drew talked night in and out about it

you once convinced her to read your favorite romance book and she tried her best to be nice

she actually didn't find it that bad and liked the ending but she would never admit that to you

leo

that boy either doesn't shower for one week or takes two hour showers

it's a bit better in the summer but especially in winter he never shower because he "would just get dirty later again"

you have to force him too properly shower because he would just forget it again

and when he actually showers for once he takes two hour showers

but especially in summer he's just gonna swim in the lake and call it a day because he basically "got clean already"

frank

I love frank sm but he would 7 in 1 shampoo

he doesn't get why it's bad and insists that it makes his hair shinier

you try to explain it to him once but he just doesn't understand 😪

he also tries to convince you all the time that it's so much better than owning body wach, shampoo and conditioner

nico

is a pop music hater

he always has this annoyed look on his face when you play pop music

he always makes this disappointed dad sigh and says "again?"

nico sounds so disappointed

he secretly loves it about you tho

reyna

she's like a confused mom and never gets jokes

"what do you mean by that, y/n? I never do that"

you try to explain the joke to her but give up after 10 minutes

she's grumpy for the rest of the day because you wouldn't finish explaining it to her

eventually she gives her pride up and asks you again

and after another ten stressful minutes she finally gets it

she kept arguing that what you said doesn't make sense

[luveline]

grumpy!joel and sunshine!reader? like he is very gruff and short with people until his girl comes around and tess is like wow are you soft now?

tysm for ur request! disclaimer: I am not an expert in tlou I just think Joel is very fit and also scary ♥︎ tess and joel are roommates here (and also no hate on tess at all I tried to make her a realist rather than a pessimist but she may sound a little jaded) idk lol pls enjoy! fem!reader 

Joel's asleep when you come around. Tess is stirring her drink, small spoon bouncing against the sides of her mug with a metallic tap-tap-tap as your familiar knock raps the door. She doesn't bother yelling, just opens the door to let you in. 

"Hello," you say, though you wince when you spot Joel dozing on the couch. You drop your voice to a whisper. "Nice shiner, Tess." 

"Thanks." She steps aside to give you free reign, rolling her eyes when you toe off your shoes. 

You're not right in the head, in Tess' opinion. You're too soft for this life, and your continued survival feels like luck and nothing more. You know how she feels about you, and you know what she thinks: that to be vulnerable is to kill yourself. You don't feel the same. 

Joel's flat on his back. You push him against the cushions of the couch to make room, perching at his hip with a small sigh. He couldn't have been with Tess when she got hurt, his face clean of contusions. No speckled bruising, no scabbing cuts. 

You place your hand over the solid plane of his stomach and lean forward just a touch. You could kiss him. 

"Joel," you murmur, hand sliding to his waist. His jeans are rough under your palm. "Wake up. I have good news." 

He never wakes gently. His eyes scrunch, his lips tug down into a scowl. When he sees you, it takes a good long second for his agitation to fade into a more neutral expression. 

"Hey," you say, smiling. 

He doesn't smile back. "Where have you been?" he asks succinctly, voice rough with the lingering dregs of sleep. 

"Why should I tell you?"

He almost pushes you off of the couch as he sits up and swings his legs to the side. His shoes touch the floor, and of course he sleeps with his shoes on, he's ready for everything.

"Don't play games." 

You hum in delight at his dark tone and stand up before he can grab you, shivering at the feeling of his fingertips scratching your thighs. You backtrack through the room for your bag thrown haphazardly by the door. You pick it up, excited and scared at once, and scrabble to procure your promised 'good news'. 

"I wasn't far." 

"Your definition of far isn't one I trust," he says. 

"She's a big girl, Joel," Tess says, sipping her drink. She winces at the taste but isn't deterred. "She can take care of herself." 

And if you can't, who cares? You shouldn't be anybody else's problem, and to your credit you aren't. You take care of yourself. You take care of Joel, too, whenever you can, which is why you've brought him the book you found. 

"Here, handsome," you say, holding it out with little ceremony. 

Joel stands up to take it. He stares at the cover in silence. 

"It's a shame they can't include a snippet on every page," you lament. "Like when they used to put perfume samples straight on the paper. I don't know what half of those songs sound like. Which is weird, right? The biggest Billboard hits and I can't remember them." 

"And this is for…" 

"Your codes. Your radio codes?" Your beaming smile starts to shutter. Maybe it isn't useful after all.

Joel knows better than to ask what you want for it. You never ask for anything, ever. You give and you give and at first he'd thought you were stupid, just plain dumb. Generosity is a myth and everybody has their motives. He'd been suspicious of your angle, rejecting you, talking down on you, practically spitting at you to get lost. And you'd listened, for the most part, but then he'd see you in line after shifts for cards, around dark corners talking to dirty FEDRA officers, and you'd always impossibly feel his gaze and pin him with a smile. You've eroded his reluctance over time, and now you're here, sprightly and pretty in his too-big apartment filling every inch with light. 

He reaches across the gap and takes your hand. He squeezes, savouring the warmth of your smaller hand. You have delicate fingers compared to his, and they look smaller still enveloped in his grasp. 

"I'll make you something to eat," he says. 

You nod once, a pop of movement. "Thank you." 

You're not the one who should be saying it but you're the only one who's willing to. Thank you has become synonymous with I owe you. 

Tess lets her gaze flick between your two bodies, clearly startled. Joel drops your hand and it's too late, far too late, she's already gearing up to make fun. 

"Is this how it's gonna be now?" she asks. 

Joel huffs quietly. Tess talks with a brittle kind of love, the familiarity of knowing someone for a long time softening what would otherwise be ridicule. She thinks, without malice, that you and Joel are a bad idea.  

"Hasn't it been like this for a while?" you ask, turning to face her, your usual sunshine attitude worsened by Joel's affection. 

"You're fucking up my guy." 

"Don't get stiffed so often and you won't need a bodyguard," you say lightly. 

Joel snorts, tossing your catalogue of songs on the counter. He doesn't know if they have anything worth eating here, but he's gonna damn well try and find something. 

"You're soft," Tess says to Joel, quick and quipping as she dumps what's left of her drink into the sink. "I'm going out." 

Not much changes when she goes. You come to stand beside him at the counter, your elbow brushing his arm. He doesn't move away. 

Joel doesn't understand why you stick around. Doesn't know what it is that makes you so sweet on him. The first time you met, outside the old meat market on the edge of curfew, he'd been standing watch as Tess made a deal. You'd slunk up on him from the right, and said, "You look unhappy," with your usual softness. 

He'd turned to you in wonder. Wonder in the very worst sense of the word; what could possibly possess you to approach him? Agitation struck like the powdery head of a match against its box, fuck off on the tip of his tongue, and you'd said, "You ever hear that Bill Withers song? 'Ain't no sunshine without rain?'" 

He'd thought you were a wannabe member of the resistance, and that fuck off had rolled right out of his mouth with ease. Your smile hardly wavered. 

"It's 'when she's gone,'" he says now.

You look up at him, he looks down at you. His thick brows relax, and his brown eyes calm. It suits him, and you'd tell him, but you're confused. 

"Huh?" 

"That Bill Withers song. It's 'ain't no sunshine when she's gone,'" he corrects you, the you from the past. He's trying to tell you something without saying it out loud. 

"Oh," you say. Your eyelashes kiss in the corners as you smile. "Right. What am I thinking of?" 

"How should I know?" He doesn't sound mad, smiling at you very briefly.

"I don't know, I thought you knew everything." 

That's not true. He can't know everything, because he doesn't have a clue in the world what he did to deserve meeting you. 

—

please forgive any inaccuracies, I only played the game a little when I was much younger, and so this was made of my watching the first episode twice and some help from people / the wiki!! it's just for fun lol so I hope you enjoyed <3<3<3

[gay-dorito-dust]

First ofi love your Jason fic's, they are really great and they made me think could you write for Damian as well?

What about Damian x reader (gn or male pls) where they are really great friends but the family thinks they are in a relationship? You know the typical teasing girls usually experience as soon as she talks about a boy "oh is that you boyfriend" the same thing happens too Damian, and now he dreads bringing the reader to his house because his family always had something to say (except Alfred he's cool like that) and it also makes the reader uncomfortable. And one day Damian snaps at them for their weird behavior, telling them that they are the reason why the reader won't visit anymore

I hope this makes sense, if you don't like this, just ignore it.

Have a great day

Damian hated when he brought you over to the Manor and it’s not for the reasons many might expect. It was more so to do with how Dick, Tim and Jason seemed to always have something to say whenever you two were in a room together, only ever doing mundane activities but to Dick, Tim and Jason, it was viewed under an annoyingly unnecessary romantic context.

They firmly believed that in due to you being able to withstand Damian’s presence for as long as you have, that there must be romantic undertones integrated in every interaction between the two of you. The classic trope of friends being in love with each other but not knowing how to cross that line without ruining everything that was pre established from your longstanding friendship; Which was factually incorrect for so many reasons.

You and Damian weren’t anything more than friends and you both were content with that conclusion. However that didn’t stop you from feeling uncomfortable whenever Dick, Tim or Jason said anything about your suspected secret relationship that you’ve been poorly keeping from them. Damian hated that you couldn’t come to the manor without wanting to leave within the first five minutes of being there, he didn’t want to either but knew that you needed him for support whenever it does happen; and it was unfortunately an reoccurring theme within the Wayne manor.

The first time this happened you and Damian were in the library, reading. Your head was innocently resting against his shoulder and all because of the lack of sleep you had from binge watching the midnight release of the latest season for your favourite show. Had you been anyone else Damian would’ve laid you out flat but since it was you, Damian didn’t seem to mind but he then choice to chastise you for your lack to keep to a healthy sleep schedule.

‘You’re helpless.’ He stats and you pouted at him. ‘But Damian it was the last season! I had to binge watch it before people start spoiling it all over social media!’ You defended yourself but it was obvious that your friend wasn’t buying it for a second. ‘Tch. So was our test today but due to your habit of binge watching, and yet you just barely managed to somewhat passable score.’ He replied, not once looking up from his book as you leaned more into him. ‘Rude.’

‘I’m merely stating the-‘

‘Spare some room for Jesus there lovebirds.’ Both you and Damian looked over to see that Jason had entered the library when you were unawares and had a wolfish grin spread across his face. You tensed up at the implication, wordlessly removed your head from Damian’s shoulder and shuffled to the far side of the couch that you were both sitting on. All the while avoiding eye contact either him or Jason.

The latter (Jason) believed that this was done out of the fact that you had gotten caught but to the former (Damian) it was because you had grown uncomfortable with the comment made towards the nature of your assumed relationship to him. So all he could do without making the situation worse for you was to glare daggers into Jason, who only took this as Damian being mad that he interrupted his quality time with you.

The second time this mistake happened was when you and Damian were in the kitchen taking a much needed break from constant studying for the upcoming test at school, replenishing your hunger by wolfing down on some snacks. ‘You’ll choke if you keep that up.’ Damian said between bites of his own snack.

‘No I won’t.’ You rebutted, swallowing down the remains before shoving another bit of food into your mouth hastily and allowing for some crumbs to cling onto you in the strangest places, though mainly your cheek. Damian sighs and reaches across the table to rub the crumbs off with a handkerchief, muttering about how much of a messy eater you are. ‘Can’t even eat properly, never less sleep the required amount needed for proper functionality.’ He mutters under his breath.

‘Will you never left me live that down?’ You asked.

‘No.’ Damian replied without hesitation and you wondered if the question was even worth asking when he answered them in such a confident and sure fire way. Before you could get a chance to speak, Dick’s voice from the doorway butted in. ‘Do my eyes deceive me or is Damian being a gentleman for his lovely partner? Has hell truly frozen over?’ Damian was quick to retract his hand but it was too late, Dick saw everything and much like Jason, took it out of complete context.

‘We should get back to studying now.’ You said uncharacteristically stiff as you pushed yourself out of your chair and walked out of the room without so much of a word, shoulders hunched and head down when you passed by Dick, who watched in slight confusion as to what just happened. Damian on the other hand was starting to reach his limit with his brothers constant teasing, for how could they not see that it was clearly making you uncomfortable even if some of the teasing wasn’t aimed at you directly.

You took it personally on his behalf and he hates that in due to this it made your eagerness to spend time at to the Wayne manor dwindle. You were his first true friend and he didn’t want his brothers to be the reason you decided that you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. Damian wouldn’t admit it but deep down he was scared that he’ll loose you because of it, and that the only way to save your friendship would one day be reliant on your interactions during school hours. Damian knew he wasn’t the easiest to get along but he had to applause your persistence in wanting to befriend him, so much so that he didn’t want you ever thinking that he didn’t bother fighting for your friendship, because he would fight for your friendship with everything he had and then some.

For you’ve become a large part of him that he doesn’t think he could ever imagine living without now that you were so deeply integrated into his very being.

The third and last time you visited the manor was what made Damian snap. All you were doing was have a slow day with the added company of Titus, who was resting his head in your lap as you petted him; The poor dog missed you and it showed with how he whined whenever you dared to stop the pets, it would be made even more difficult not to as he would then paw at you persistently on top of all that.

‘I swear one of these days Titus will follow me home.’ You joked as you reminisced about the times when Titus would try and follow after you as pup and always disregarding Damian in favour for you and your cuddles. ‘He almost did once when you had to go home after our sleepover.’ Even Damian smiled softly at the memory of seeing Titus’ little head pop out of your bag after almost tearing apart the manor for the little mischief maker. He reached over to scratch the dog behind the ear -just how he liked to be scratched- and watched as Titus kicked his back leg in response.

‘He obviously still loves me a lot to be using my lap like this despite being too big to doing it anymore.’ You chuckled, looking down at the big dog with so much love and affection. Damian scoffed. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Titus only likes you because you pamper and baby him.’ You gasped, covering Titus ears. ‘Don’t say that! Titus is still a baby in my heart!’ You exclaimed. The fully grown Great Dane then sneezed in his sleep and you acted as though he said something meaningful before looking back towards Damian ‘see, Titus agrees.’

‘Tch. You’re such a pain.’ Was Damian’s response as he looked away from you, only to see Tim stood a few feet away, watching you both much like how Dick and Jason did and Damian knew what was about to come out of his mouth before he even said it.

And apparently so did you as you managed to stand up, waking Titus up in the process, who was trying to get his bearings back as you said sombrely to Damian. ‘I’ll see you at school tomorrow, yeah.’ Before walking back towards the manor with Titus at your heels.

Before Tim could ask Damian shot him a murderous glare. ‘Batcave. Two days from now. Make yourself useful and bring Todd and Grayson with you.’ Was all he said before storming off towards the manor himself, leaving an taken aback Tim. His limit has officially been reached.

‘Why are we here Damian? Are you going to tell us that you need help with your partner-‘

‘Stop. Just stop with this nonsense you, Drake and Todd seemed to be hung up on because this false narrative you’ve created about myself and y/n is entirely make belief. And we’re suffering from it.’ Damian cuts Dick off but Jason was quick to speak next.

‘Why? Are you lovebirds not together anymore?’

Damian clenched his jaw but couldn’t contain his anger and annoyance towards this entire situation, wanting nothing more than for it to come to an end. ‘WE NEVER WERE TOGETHER TODD!’ Damian exploded. ‘WE WERE ONLY EVER JUST FRIENDS BUT DUE TO YOURS, GRAYSON AND DRAKES’ SHARED STUPIDITY, YOU’RE MAKING THEM UNCOMFORTABLE INTO EVER VISITING ANYMORE!’

‘Why didn’t either of you say anything-‘ Tim tried to talk but was quickly silenced by Damian who still had a lot more to get off of his chest. ‘WE TRIED BUT YOU WE ALL TOO BUSY TEASING US FOR BEING SOMETHING WE NEVER WERE!’ Damian liked to think he wasn’t the type to be quick to anger and how it was such a foolish thing to do. However Dick, Tim and Jason overstepped one too many times for Damian not to speak up about it, making sure it gets into their thick skulls that their weird behaviour almost cost him his friendship with you.

Jason, Dick and Tim felt stupid now and a little ashamed that their teasing could’ve quite possibly drove you away. It wasn’t their intention to do so, but they guessed that they admittedly got slightly ahead of themselves that they didn’t take into consideration of how you felt about all this. Now they felt like right dickheads.

‘I believe they’ve got the message master Damian.’ Alfred said as he looked at Dick, Tim and Jason who looked like a bunch of kicked puppies. ‘How about we invite master Damian’s friend for dinner so that you may tell them you’re sorry for your recent transgressions?’

Dick smiled softly at the butler whom had became another father figure to them. ‘That’s sounds perfect Alfred but only if y/n is comfortable to come.’ He, Jason, Tim and Alfred then all looked towards Damian who had calmed down significantly from his earlier outburst. ‘Tch. I’ll ask but I’m not guaranteeing anything.’ He says to them as he took out his phone to text you, adding a picture of an impatient Titus sitting at the front door waiting for you to come back for added effect, knowing how you couldn’t resist him.

It didn’t take long for you to reply with; ‘fine. I’m willing to bury the hatchet but as long as Titus gets to lay in my lap. That’s my only condition.’

Yep everything was going to be alright.

[yoredoesmore]

hii can i pls ask for an argument with hoshina and how u fixed everything after jsnshsbshsbs 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

a/n: thank you for your request (´∀｀)♡ this took longer than it should have, I apologize ╥﹏╥

pairing: hoshina soshiro x fem!reader

summary: a small misunderstanding turns into a huge argument.

genre: romance/hurt & comfort/jealousy/fluff |

[wc: 1,6k]

enjoy!

Kiss and Make Up | Hoshina Soshiro

You were mad, beyond pissed even. Your heart was beating in irregular motions and the irritation practically oozed off your face. The tension laid thick in the air as you and your boyfriend continued to ignore each other, sitting in complete silence in front of the television.

So many thoughts roamed your head– insults, counter arguments and statements, yet you refused to give the man another second of attention.

He has truly done it now.

“I'was just another celebration with the squad, nuttin that big of a deal. You would have known if you had come.” Hoshina slurred his words as he dragged his drunk self through the hallway of your shared apartment and into the bedroom.

“Bet that Okonogi was there too, right? That smartass wannabe who always seems to be in desperate need of your help.”

“Oh pwease, you're overreacting. Okonogi is not like that so stop bein so annoying.”

That last statement had sealed his fate (and almost earned him a slap in the face). Before you knew it, the two of you fell into a fully blown out fight that lasted through the entire night. Insults were dropped, his hands pushed you and yours shoved him as well.

“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?! It's honestly so irritating!” Hoshina yelled out.

“Your stupidity is more irritating! Maybe if you stop being so full of your fucking self all the time and start using that brain of yours, you would see the issue at hand!” You snapped back.

Fights were uncommon in your relationship but when the two of you fought it was messy and draining. But most importantly, they stung.

Even after the night had fallen and sunshine arose, the atmosphere in your apartment still laid thick in the air. Half the day had passed and neither of you said anything to each other, until the both of you ended up in the living room at the same time. He was busy taking care of the cats (who had run into the wide space) while you were already sitting there, reading your favorite novel.

At first silence kept the situation at bay, neither of you forced to interact with one another, until a phone call broke the tranquil atmosphere.

“Your work phone, huh.” You said, eyes remaining on the book as you flipped to the next page. “Wonder who that could be.”

Hoshina refrained himself from answering your remark and quickly picked up the call. Although he had turned the loud speaker function off, you were able to hear a female voice from the other side.

“Yeah of course I can help, no need to thank me.” He hung up.

“Let me guess, little damsel in distress needs your help again?”

“That's enough, Y/n.” Hoshinas voice cut sharp through the room, silencing you temporarily, before you spoke up again.

“Don't talk about Okonogi like that, alright? She is a good friend and your coworker. Ya being so unreasonable.”

“I am being unreasonable?? Oh, I'm sorry for getting upset when my boyfriend spends more time with his good friend than his partner!” The book was no longer of any importance to you. You had tossed it while standing up from your seated position.

“How long has this been going on now?? Every other day she asks you to hang out or do this together or she needs help here and there. Are you fucking kidding me??”

“Oh please, look at the way you're acting, it's ridiculous! We work in the same department so of course we spend a lot of time together!”

It felt like your words went right past his ear and vice versa. Both of you were now standing right across from one another, anger evident on both your faces. Even the tension grew in size, swallowing up the entire space and forcing your cats to run out.

You hated the surge of anger that rushed through your body. Feeling this way, jealous and annoyed when the man who normally solved all your problems was right in front of you, it pained you deeply. In moments like these, all you wanted to do was break down and hide away, preferably in his arms, but that was not an option right now.

“You sure that's the only reason you spend so much time together? Because it sounded different a couple weeks ago.”

“A couple..what are you talking about??” Hoshina asked, genuinely confused. You broke your gaze, looking at the ground in hopes that the pressure would disappear.

“At the bar..don't act like you don't remember!” And without allowing him to even respond, you dashed into your room and knocked the door shut behind you. Your boyfriend simply stood there, unsure of how to react to this sudden change of events. A long sigh escaped his lips as he followed you into the room.

“Y/n..”

“Leave me alone!” Your head was buried deep into the pillow (the one on Hoshina's side). Tears had made it out of your eyes and you desperately wanted to hide them.

“What exactly did I say at the bar..please tell me.” The regret in Hoshina's tender voice did not go unnoticed by you. It tugged on your heart and only caused the pain to increase. You truly hated seeing him like this.

“You..you said that you like smart women..” Repeating those words from weeks ago now made you feel stupid. “When Kafka asked you what your type was..you said that you prefer smart women and then you..proceeded to look at Okonogi! She was sitting right next to Kafka, so maybe you were looking at him instead, I don't know, I was just as drunk but still!”

Hoshina stood in front of the bed, disbelief holding him back from talking. He could barely remember the events of that night, only that it involved too much alcohol. But hearing you say those words, with tears in your eyes and a broken voice, it made your boyfriend feel like shit.

“But I was obviously talking about you, love, You are smart” He said as he placed himself next to you on the bed, hands rubbing your back. “Wait..is that why you didn't join us in yesterday's get together?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“I am not smart, not at all. I work as a damn secretary for the Kaiju Hunters while Okonogi is a skilled woman who runs analysis and she is the Operations Leader. And not to mention, she is so pretty too.”

Up until now, Hoshina did not know that you were harboring such emotions. Your sudden confession left his mind blank, it was as if he had temporarily lost all thoughts due to the shock. You on the other hand couldn't have felt more embarrassed.

You had no right to go after Okonogi like that and blame her for your insecurities. But when Hoshina spoke those words and afterwards looked at her, you just felt too heated.

Moments like these made you wonder, why Hoshina refused to leave you. Unlike the other women in his life, you were hotheaded and emotional, pushing and shoving when someone messed with your feelings instead of talking it out.

Little did you know, that this was exactly what Soshiro liked about you. He loved you for being hotheaded and a tease, but also sweet and caring during the right moments. You were the perfect match for him and nothing could convince him otherwise.

“Y/n, don't you ever say that about yourself ever again. You are my smart, beautiful hotheaded woman, the woman I love and cherish. Plus it takes hella brain to work as a secretary, especially for those jerks.” Soshiro placed his hands on your shoulders, pulling you back up into a seated position.

Your eyes were slightly puffy and a soft frown pulled on your lips.

“I'm sorry for not expressing myself clearly enough and for making it seem like I prefer Okonogi to you. You are the one I love and care about, I promise.”

“But..but I am so mean to everyone and to you as well, Soshiro.” Hoshina's words had touched your heart and caused the tears to resurface, even though they never truly left.

“Plus I get jealous way too easily and don't..I'm just too..” You hiccupped.

“Shh, there there. I don't wanna hear none of that, you hear me?” Your boyfriend wrapped one arm around your waist while the other patted your head. A soft kiss found its way on your cheek, drawing a pout from your lips.

“I'm sorry Soshiro, for being so irritating. You are a great friend and coworker to Okonogi and you are a true blessing for constantly helping her out. I shouldn't get jealous over that." Hoshina smiled and placed another kiss on your face, this time on your lips. It felt sweet and comforting, you wished it could have lasted forever.

“And I'm sorry for being so stupid.”

You pulled him into a tight hug, the sweet scent of his body filling your nose. The hug lasted quite long, as long as you both needed it to, and it patched up all the wounds that were still left open by the argument. As you pulled away, you gazed into each other's eyes, losing yourself temporarily.

“Lucky for you, I love my women slightly irritating.” He joked.

“And I like my men stupid.”

“Hey!”

The both of you laughed, the content of the argument already forgotten.

a/n: i know its not obvious at all but i was actually going for a hori x miyamura type of relationship

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (do we as a society still use this emoticon?)

i just love hori’s and miyamura's dynamic, they could never make me hate them! plus i wholeheartedly believe that Hoshina needs a partner who is more emotional/teasing than him so he can be sure that his attitude is handled ^^

[hobie-enthusiast]

UNLIKELY CLASH !

— rulebreaker!hobie brown x perfectionist!gn!reader

— enemies to lovers, swearing (more than last and fuck too), mutual pining, making out, small bit of harassment, rebellious teens, confused feelings, getting together

— hobie brown was everything you weren’t, so maybe that’s what attracted the two of you together so well (pt. 2)

— here part two gang! honestly i have an idea for part three in mind but if that’s something u honestly want pls lmk asap

— part 1 | part 2 (here) | part 3

The next couple of weeks were.. odd between you and Hobie.

Even after a heartfelt confession about the pressure you felt, you still had a reputation to uphold. You kept treating him the way you normally did; ignoring him and pretending he didn’t exist.

At first, this didn't really bother Hobie. He was used to chasing after you, messing with you and poking fun at the student council president. But he was getting bored. The small bits of making you late to class or taking up your time were amusing, but he wanted more of a reaction from you.

When he started interacting less and less, you grew confused. As much as you hated to admit it, you liked the attention and small interactions.

Though it was small, being late and skipping class (very rarely at this point), made you excited. It made you feel.. alive in a way.

But all that was dissipating. And you were upset about it.

You sat in your room after a long school day, mindlessly scrolling through your computer. Your parents had asked that you try and find a prom outfit, but that became boring really quick. You could never wear something truly exciting; just some fancy outfit plain coloured with fancy hair.

A knock on your window startled you from your thoughts. Glancing out, you see Hobie looking in, motioning for you to open the window. You walk over confused, deciding to open the window.

"Brown? It's.." You glance back at your alarm clock. "..10 pm. What are you doing here?"

"Awe, come on sweetheart. After such a confession, shouldn't we be on a first name basis?" He says, inviting himself into your room.

You scoff. "One, no, as you don't use my first name. And two, you can't be here! My parents are right down the hall!"

Hobie shrugged as he looked around your room, analyzing the decor. He noticed the clean desk you had, along with a neat bookshelf of many scientific books and knick-knacks. It suited you, every detail down to the way your game console sat neatly on your TV stand, not a speck of dust in sight.

"Did you show up just to judge my room?"

Hobie shook his head. "Nah, came t' ask ya somethin'." He said, sitting on your desk chair. "Up for an adventure?"

"Excuse me?" You question, taking a seat across from him on your bed. "When?"

"Now."

You know Hobie was.. absolutely crazy in some ways. But this? Going on a random adventure on a Friday night, and asking the person he wants to go with by entering their room via window was.. not the kind of crazy you would categorize him as.

You raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms. "You serious right now?"

"As serious as I always am." He responds with a shrug. "'s up to you. We'll be gone 'till tomorrow. Either 'u're up for a challenge or not."

A challenge he says? Hobie knew that you could be riled up from being challenged to do something. Perfectionists always had to win in his eyes.

And he was right.

"Give me five minutes."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Next thing you knew, you were on a train from your isolated little town to Brooklyn itself. Hobie blindly led you onto a train, told you to not worry about tickets, then let the train take you both to the destination in mind.

Of course Hobie remembered what you said at the tree. He had been holding onto it for a while now. He knew you wanted to go to a city, do whatever you wanted, just for a little bit. And he was going to be the one to give that to you. Why? Well, that's a question he couldn't answer for himself.

"Brooklyn?" You questioned, looking out of the train window. "Why Brooklyn?"

"You said it under the tree. Ya wanted to go to the city, no?"

You nodded slowly, looking back out the window with a small smile. Of course you were flattered that he remembered your words. At least, you were hoping he did, you practically poured your feelings out.

Once the train stopped, you both stepped out of the station to admire the tall buildings towering over you. Hobie couldn’t help but be amused at the way your eyes shined at the new scenery. He practically came here everyday.

But he couldn’t tell you that. Not without plausible answers to the inevitable questions.

“So..” You turn to look at him, eyes still bright. “What do we do?”

He shrugs, hands in his vest pockets. “Whatever ya want. ‘s ‘ur day, no?”

"But I don't know where to go. I've never been to the city before."

Hobie's eyes widened for a moment, shocked at your words. You were really so sheltered you hadn't been to the city right beside your town? The thought alone was crazy to Hobie. He never understood why adults were so.. controlling.

He sighs, walking ahead. "Follow me then. I'll show ya ‘round."

And so you did just that. You followed Hobie around the city, taking in the sights he's showing you. All around the city, passing and weaving through people, making sure you had a nice time.

There was something you noticed. Before Hobie took you somewhere, he provided you with options on where to go. He didn't force you to go one place with him. He didn't strictly follow an itinerary. He always asked what you wanted to do, giving you full control of the day.

It was.. refreshing. This sense of freedom was exactly what you needed. To feel the fresh air of the city without worrying about impressing anyone. Hobie wasn't judging you, and you certainly weren't judging yourself.

The end of the day came quicker than your liking, and the two of you were on the rooftop of an apartment complex. The sun was setting behind the tall buildings, and Hobie brought the two of you some noodles to eat (he definitely didn't steal them).

You take a bite, setting the cup down with a sigh. "Today was.. actually really nice. I don't think I ever felt that, free before, if that makes sense?"

"Don't worry, you can say it." Hobie said, nudging your arm.

You roll your eyes with a small smile. "Mm.. guess I can. Thanks, Brown."

"Y'know, you can call me 'obie, swee'heart." He responded, shrugging. "'s better than m' last name, I think."

"I can't give you that satisfaction. Not yet."

Hobie raised an eyebrow, a shit-eating smirk crossing his face. "Yet?"

You're ready to correct yourself, but the words die in your throat. You couldn't help but like the sound of "yet". It meant more time with Hobie.. and you enjoyed that. Hobie's company was something you were starting to crave. Almost like a drug.

Hobie glanced over at you. "Gotta admit, didn't expect ya t' come with me. Considerin' 'ur parents don't know ya snuck out."

“Yeah well..” You sigh, looking out onto the building with a soft smile. “Maybe I just needed something different.” You finish, looking over at Hobie.

You’re suddenly very aware of how close the two of you are to each other. Hobie’s eyes flicker; your eyes, your mouth, and back a couple times. It’s almost like.. he was asking you for something. The longer you both stared, the more tempted he became, and you honestly couldn’t blame him.

So why did you pull away?

As soon as he started leaning in, you pulled back, clearing your throat. His eyes widen before narrowing, scoffing gently. Guess he misread the situation.

You really couldn’t tell him he didn’t.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The next weeks Hobie Brown didn’t show up to school.

You had a feeling you were the cause. Brushing him off like that was such a dick move on your part. You knew that. You wanted nothing more than to find him and run to him, kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

But you couldn’t. You had an image to maintain. A reputation. All the trust you worked so hard to accumulate would go down the drain in an instant.

Of course.. Hobie may be worth that.

Hobie to you is worth that risk. All his rule breaking and crazed adventures are just what you need in your life. Something that gives you the freedom you longed for.

But you had to go and screw it up. And now here you were, three weeks after the incident, at your locker with a guy trying to talk you up.

“C’mon, [Name], just one night! It’ll change your life!”

You groan, slamming the locker shut. “Dude, I said no. Can you stop?”

“Why? I gotta know why!” He persisted, grabbing your wrist as you tried walking away.

You yank your arm away, trying to escape. “I don’t owe you that! Let me go.”

“Not until you-”

“Hey.”

You turn at the sudden voice, shocked at who it belonged to. There stood Hobie Brown, eyes filled with anger.

“They said, let go.” He said, grabbing the guy’s arm and yanking it away. “Learn t’ take a hint, aye?”

The guy’s eyes narrowed. “And who do you think you are, Brown? Their boyfriend?”

“As a matter of fac’-”

Then, Hobie turns you to him, bringing your lips to his. No warning, no asking, nothing. Just does what he’s been craving after three weeks of disappearance.

Everyone in the hallway around you two watched with shocked faces. Nobody could have seen this coming, not even you.

A thousand thoughts rushed through your head as Hobie kissed you, but one screamed to push away. So you did, giving him a shocked look before grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the scene. You drag him to a storage closet, shutting the door.

“Brown, what the hell was that?!” You immediately ask, eyes narrowed. “What, do you disappear for three weeks then kiss every person you were hanging out with? What the hell?”

Hobie sighed, leaning against a shelf behind him. “Guy needed t’ be taught a lesson. Made sure he won’t bother ya.”

“I can do that on my own!” You respond, shoving an accusing finger in his chest. “Where have you been?!”

“Thinkin’.” Is all he responds with.

You groan. “For three weeks? Shit Hobie, I..” You words fall short. You want to say it.. squeeze it out. “I.. missed you.”

Hobie’s eyes widened as he takes in your words. You.. missed him? He never would have seen this coming; a confession from the president in a dingy storage closet? Not on his bucket list.

Your eyes watch Hobie, doing that same pattern he did on the rooftop; eyes, mouth, eyes. You wanted to kiss him again.. feel those lips again on yours. No.. you needed it.

You know what? Fuck this perfect image.

You grab onto Hobie's vest, pulling him in to connect your lips. Your rough with your movements at first, closing your eyes tightly and latching onto him with a white-knuckle grip. Hobie's eyes widened for a moment before they showed a more prideful look, kissing you back with just as much emotion.

His hands find placement on your lower back, pulling you into him as the kiss escalates from one to many. Hobie was like a starved man, slotting his leg in between yours to support you, pushing you back against the shelf and knocking over some cleaning supplies.

That could be fixed later.

Your original intention of one passionate kiss to show him how you felt turned into many heated kisses. The bell for class was drowned out by how into the moment you both were.

“Fuck.. Hobie..” You whisper, diving back in for another kiss.

Hobie groaned in turn, pulling you impossibly closer. “Shit sweetheart.. can’t say m’ name like that.”

“Hmm.. why’s that..?”

“‘s gonna drive me crazy..”

Suddenly, the doorknob to the closet rattles, causing you both to pull away. Your eyes go wide as Hobie grabs it from where he stands, bringing one finger to his lips to make you stay quiet.

The person on the other side tries to open the door, but ultimately fails. They groan and mumble something before walking away. Hobie looks over at your expression, a small laugh escaping his lips.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” He whispers, planting a kiss to your jaw. “Or are ya gonna keep pretendin’ you’re too good for it?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes as you take his hand. "Nah, not this time. Come on."

some ppl who wanted to be tagged (🫶): @serenn08 | @rksses | @youronlyauthor | @dotheyevenknowmars | @xoxobabe

[writerdreamerwhatever]

If I can have the pleasure of making the first request...🫣 Can you do something with young Remus Lupin? Maybe something really silly and sweet, like, he and the reader are in a secret relationship (kind of to avoid the commotion that James and Sirius would make about the fact that he's dating at all) and somehow he ends up with a face full of faint lipgloss kiss marks, which not even the reader realizes about, until the other marauders notice and discover their secret. Maybe the reader will even join in and tease Remus with them a little?

Sorry if the idea is bad, pls don't feel obligated to do it. I'm really not good at this kind of thing...

Have a good day anyways ☺️

Kisses ~ Young Remus Lupin

“Remus, you’re limping! Please let me help you.” I whisper-yelled at Remus, walking through the corridors.

“I can do it.” He grunts, still in pain from yesterday’s full moon.

“Well, at least let me tend to your injuries!” Remus looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll do it myself.” He said, shaking his head, “I don’t want to be a burden.” He muttered under his breath.

I stopped him dead in his tracks

“A burden? Are you serious?” At that, Remus smirked

“No, Sirius is at the library waiting for us with James. We can’t be anymore late!” He replied quickly, resuming his walk towards the library.

“Sirius and James can wait. Remus, please, at least go to Madame Pomfrey so she can help. I really hate seeing you like that.” It really pained me seeing him in this hurt state.

Remus sighed and clutched his bag tighter.

“Fine, but come with me.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

“You’ll take this right when you wake up and before you go to sleep for the next three days.” Instructed Pomfrey, giving Remus a vial containing a purple potion, “It should help restore your energy back.” With that, she left, going to aid another student.

“Are you happy now?” He asked me, smiling.

“I’m more than happy.” I leaned down, since he was sitting on one of the beds, and kissed him once on the lips.

Looking at him, I chuckled under my breath at the sight of a lipstick mark on his mouth. I decided to kiss him once again the cheek, leaving another mark. Opting against wiping it off, I thought he’d like a little teasing from his friends.

“Let’s go. We can’t make the boys wait any longer.” I grabbed his hand and made our way through the corridors and to the library.

Before entering, I released Remus’ hand, since the boys didn’t know about our relationship. Yet.

At the sight of us, James and Sirius perked up. But once we got closer, they noticed Remus’ face and started laughing. I knew exactly why.

“Hey guys.” Remus said, sitting down opposite them, taking out a book from his bag opening it, ready to study.

I plopped down next to him, and a chorus of hushed exclamations was heard.

“Do you know that red suits you well, Moony?”

“Had a lover and never told us, you traitor.”

Remus quickly lifted his head up, confused.

“What? What are you talking about?”

Sirius and James could only laugh at Remus’ face.

“W-What is it?!” Remus exclaimed looking at me, while I only shrugged, a slight smirk resting on my face.

He could only conjure a small mirror to look at himself. Once noticing, the realization of why they were laughing quickly downed on him.

“Wow, Remus, when were you going to tell us you had a girlfriend?” I asked, deciding to join the teasing, while the other two were dying of laughter.

Remus glared at me, but couldn’t help the smile that was appearing on his face.

“So? Who is it?” Sirius asked, still giggling a bit, nudging James with his elbow.

I leaned my head on my fist and looked at Remus, smiling sweetly. He sighed and glanced at me, chuckling before answering.

“You’d be dumb if you didn’t know who.”

I'm sorry I took too long to write this, but here it is! i hope you like it <3

[amourluvie]

Eyeless jack x reader headcanons

Since the last ej post got nice recognition, I thought why not write more stuff for our fav demon ? >< . . .

- first of all he's a very introverted and quiet person who hates loud people and loud noises + blasting music is a big no no aswell since he has sensitive ahh ears, so please try to be calm around him

- he loves learning new stuff about you and of course spending time with you everyday , oh you got a new hyperfixation? Talk to him for hours about it, oh you got a new favourite colour/food? He's writing that down in his diary as we speak, u want to watch a new movie? Hes now interested in it aswell and will watch it with you.

- his love language is physical touch and gifting, he loves feeling ur touch in every way possible,like holding ur hands,hugging you, holding you by waist, and loves kisses aswell ofc !!

- can get jealous easily mainly due to the fact he's really insecure and doesn't want to lose you.

- sometimes he thinks if u really love him, considering he's a cannibalistic monster. Pls reassure him that you love him lots and will stay him until the day u die.

- also please don't get weirded out whenever u see him eating raw human flesh, or him bringing you kidneys.

- if u gift him organs , specially kidneys he will literally melt.

- also pls read to him , such as old literature because he loves it and metamorphosis by Franz Kafka is his fav book,he relates to it lots.

- another thing that will make him melt will u calling him pretty boy , he has 0 self confidence so calling him that really boosts his confidence

- he's a monster but he's YOUR monster too right?

꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

[heartcereql]

shades of cool

୨୧ young!coriolanus snow x f!reader ୨୧ IN WICH Coriolanus is the person you've grown to hate and compete against. But when you and him have to work together to achieve what you want, the tables start to turn. (6.2k+ words) ୨୧ cw: cursing, a LOT of tension (yall r going to hate me for the cockblocking), probably ooc snow (acting like he's a sweetheart and not a psycho lollll), like one mention of blood?

a/n: snow lands on top (of me pls)

There were only two things that you completely and utterly despised: breaking your favorite nail and the voice of Coriolanus Snow.

"Y/n!"

You made no sign whatsoever to acknowledge the man following your across the crowd of burgundy uniforms. You just clutched your books tighter and quickened your pace.

"Hey, Y/n- wait up!" he called again.

Sighing, you stopped in your tracks and turned around to see a platinum blond running in your direction. The usual shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You put on your best effort to suppress the eye roll that was begging to be released.

"Yes?" you asked, unamused.

"I was just wondering- you seemed kind of distracted in class today." His words were sugary, almost enough to trick anyone into thinking he was truly concerned. But not you though. You had learn to identify the glint in his eyes from a mile away. "Well, just in cas you missed this-"

Before you knew it, you had an A+ graded exam shoved in your face. Making a face of disgust, you scrambled away to look at his face, expression filled with pride.

"That's great, Coriolanus, real great. Would be even greater if I had asked", you scowled, turning away while Coriolanus scoffed behind you, quickly catching up with you again as you resumed your way out.

"Oh, c'mon, Y/n! You're not the only one who's allowed to brag", he said, nudging your side.

"Clearly not. You do it all the time", you deadpanned.

"Don't be mad 'cause you weren't able to beat me. Again."

The smell of roses was too stuck in your nostrils for your liking. Sweet and inviting, but remembering who it came from made the flowers lose all their charm.

"Also, exercise three's answer was option D," he pointed out, that annoying smirk on his face again.

"What?"

"It was option D, not A."

"How did you even- Nevermind. Option A is the literal definition, care to explain how it is option D?" you argued, rolling your eyes.

"I- A's not the definition!" Coriolanus tried to rebute.

"It is. Try paying attention for once."

"It's not!" He stopped fully, leaning against a wall and opening his bag.

"What are you doing?" you raised a brow at his franctic search. Sometimes you forgot how infuriating he was.

"I'm looking for the textbook," he replied, face almost buried in his bag.

"Unbelievable," you scoffed, turning around. "You really are unfixable, Snow."

Walking away from the mess of papers he had made around him, you could hear him protest.

"Hey, don't go! I'm finding the page!"

You shook your head. The exasperation in his voice was like music to your ears.

You knew who you wanted to be from a very young age. You knew exactly what you wanted and what you had to do to achieve it. You wanted everything.

Top of your class since you were five. Student of the month every month. Class president. Winning every single award that could be won by a child under twelve years old.

You wanted to take everything from a life that had given you nothing. Like a phoenix, your mother used to say, risen from the ashes to burn in the most blazing fire. With little to no resources, your family had incredibly made it work so that they could afford a small apartment in the Capitol (if you dared call the cubicle that your family shared a house). But your family had made it. And so had you, child prodigy, wanting to rescue your poor parents and sister. Specially when your mom's frequent coughing developed into something far more serious.

You were unstoppable. Nothing in your way. Praise. Applause. Recognition. It was all in the back of your hand.

Until Coriolanus Snow appeared.

He and you were basically the same. Same drive for power, same desire to rescue your family, same overachiever character, same flawless grades. One would think you would get along, being so impossibly similar.

And perhaps you could have. You could've befriended him and helped each other. If he had not equalled you with such aptitude. Before you knew it, Y/n Y/l/n was never mentioned without Coriolanus Snow. You were no longer the only student to pass with distinction. You weren't the only clear winner, or the only candidate for class president, or weren't so easily distincted class president, for Coriolanus was your vicepresident (something that had never been a thing, that appeared as suddenly as him).

But he was fighting you for your spot. Naturally, you didn't even consider him as a potential friend. He was an obstacle in your way, as you were in his. Soon, you two were always engaged in bantering, cruel comments, trying to bring the other down by showing off your accomplishments and grades and awards and titles.

It was more than safe to say that you and Corolanius held special hatred for each other.

And then came the Plintz Prize. Both of you wanted it with equal burning ache, and gave your very best since the first day. Obviously, you weren't the only students who were interested in winning the prize, but you were the ones ready to sacrifice everything, the ones to always make the most of an opportunity, even if it was minimal.

You were so deeply convinced that you were nothing like the other.

But neither of you was willing to let anything come in your way.

"A new financial aid is going to be gifted."

The words echoed in the room as students hushedly commented, whispered to one another.

"Students will submit a proposal, individually or in pairs. A suggestion with your own design of the Hunger Games. You'll go into detail about every little thing, so that in the end, Dr Gaul will select the project she fancies more to be the winner and receive the financial aid."

You and Coriolanus shared a look from opposite sides of the room.

The prize is mine.

As per usual, you were determined to go for everything. You needed to nail this. That very same afternoon you were sat in front of your desk, scribbling down what was supposed to be the first draft to your proposal project. You'd noted some ideas, but they didn't seem to make sense altogether.

Groaning for the umpteenth time, you got up from the spot you'd been occuppying for the last two hours. Your home was no inspiration, which was why you gathered all your scattered pages and notes and made your way to the Academy's library.

There was a spot you liked there. Your spot, though only you referred to it as that, of course. A comfy chair with a green cushion on the end of a large oak table, between the shelves of Geometry books and medicine articles. Golden rays of sunlight filtered through the large window on spring afternoons, and even in the bleak winter it felt nice to look through it.

Making your way over to your spot, you could almost feel the comfort of the chair, how your thoughts would clear and start to make sense. Eyes half closed anticipating the delight. But you opened them only to find a familiar (and annoying) blond sitting in your corner.

"Move" you said as you finished your way over to him.

"What? No. I'm working. Thinking", Coriolanus answered, unbothered, without looking up from his notes and papers, some scrambled, some with big ink stains.

"I don't care. It's my spot. Move.”

He raised his head to look up at you and stopped writing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise this chair had your name engraved on it,” he pettily remarked.

“Whatever,” you exhaled, plopping down on the seat next to him. “You are such a pain in the ass, you know.”

“Back at you,” he replied, eyes focused on his papers again.

You huffed and reached inside your bag to grab your notes.

Your messily written ideas were mocking you, at this point. If you thought they didn’t make much sense at home, they definitely weren’t making any now. You had so much in mind. And they were great ideas, really. But you couldn’t find a way to connect them, for them to make sense altogether. And you were missing something. Something so essential, something that you couldn’t quite place.

How will the games be watched if they’re held in the middle of a desert? Where will the cameras be?

You scrunched your paper, groaning again and dropping your head to the table.

"Something wrong?"

You lifter your head to find Coriolanus looking at you, carding a hand through his hair.

"None of your business."

"Jesus, chill out Y/n. I was just asking if you were okay.." he spoke, not in his usual bratty tone; he sounded just worried.

Your eyes widened a bit with a mix between embarrassment and shyness.

"I'm just... stressed. I'm stuck on the whole proposal thing, it just won't make any sense. I feel like it's missing something, but I just can't know what," you told him, rubbing your temples.

Coriolanus let out a breathy chuckle, to which you looked at him disbelief.

"I knew you were cruel, but laughing at my miserable state is just-"

"I'm not laughing. I'm relieved," he explained. You looked for any signs of mockery, but his eyes were truthful and soft.

"Relieved?" you frowned.

"Yeah. I-I thought I was the only one having a kind of block," he looked down to his notes and that was when you noticed the messy paragraphs the crossed ideas, the lines and arrows that tried to connect everything.

You gave Coriolanus a tight-lipped smile. He was right. It was somewhat relieving to know that your only real threat was having a hard time like you were.

"Hey, I've got an idea."

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Oh hell no. No idea Coriolanus could want to share with you would turn out great.

"Shoot"

"I think we should partner up for the project," he bluntly said.

"Pardon?" you asked raising your brows. You really thought that you hadn't heard him correctly.

"Yeah, I mean, think about it. We both have a lot of ideas but feel something missing. We-we could help each other out!" Coriolanus clarified, somewhat flustered. "We'd win the prize and split it. Highbottom said the proposal could be submitted by pairs. If we do this together, we'll be unstoppable."

You blinked twice, digesting his words like you couldn't believe they were real.

"I think that's the worst idea I've ever heard."

Coriolanus scoffed. "Right, because you're so well known for your good ideas."

True. Though being a straight A's, perfect student, you had a certain fire inside you that had given you a reckless and flaming reputation.

"I'm in."

You were back in the library the next day, only this time you were sitting in your spot, and Coriolanus was besides you. You had been sitting in silence for the past fifteen minutes, reading the other's anotations and doodles.

When you finished, you leaned back into you seat, stretching your neck and pushing loose strands of hair behind your ears.

"So?" Coriolanus inquired when he noticed you were done. "What do you think?"

"I'm... surprised," you told him, chin resting on your hand as you looked at him. "It's almost identical to mine."

He chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I was noticing. I guess great minds think alike, right?"

"Could be, or you just copied me," you said. Coriolanus sneered and you saw the complains forming behind his lips, so you were quick to clarify. "I was joking, Snow. It seems we're not so different."

"Or you just copied me" he mocked, using your words from earlier.

"You wish," you smile, scoffing in a playful manner.

"Hey, what was it that you were unhappy with about your ideas? Because I think they're pretty great," Coriolanus asked, handing your notes back to you.

"They don't make sense to me. I couldn't come up with a way to connect it all," you shrugged. "Maybe we shouldn't use all of this, I don't know."

The entire day was spent between countless bickering and snacks, you and Coriolanus discussing the project and how insufferable the other was, shielded by the brimful shelves and the hushed conversations between students.

Over the next few days, your begrudging meetings with Coriolanus continued, each session marked by a mixture of tension and reluctant cooperation. The library became your unofficial battleground, the hallowed halls witnessing the clash of two strong-willed minds.

As you both settled into your usual spot once again, there was a palpable air of wariness. However, you couldn't help but notice a subtle change in Coriolanus. He seemed more open to discussion, his usually stoic facade occasionally cracking to reveal a hint of vulnerability. The topics ranged from the project at hand to personal interests, and amidst the disagreements, you discovered shared preferences and surprisingly similar perspectives.

By the first week, a sort of unspoken truce had settled between you. The bickering had mellowed into a more civilized exchange of ideas. Coriolanus, despite his initial resistance, began to respect your opinions and even admitted to finding some merit in your perspectives. You, in turn, acknowledged the sharp intellect beneath his icy exterior. Shared laughter became more frequent, often catching both of you off guard.

Throughout these encounters, the library transformed from a battlefield to a space of reluctant collaboration. Despite the lingering differences, a strange sense of partnership emerged. The once insufferable project discussions turned into an exploration of each other's intellect, and with each passing day, the library witnessed the evolution of an unexpected connection between two seemingly incompatible souls.

Your bag hit the leg of the table as you slipped in your chair, the blond taking the seat next to you. A soft thud was heard, along with something rolling. You were going to duck down to reach it, but Coriolanus was already grabbing it.

"Hey, are these yours?" Coriolanus asked, holding a bottle of pills.

Your eyes widened. Your mom's medicines. You reached inside your bag to check if the bottle you had picked up from the chemist's before school was still there. It wasn't.

"Yeah. Well- my mom's."

He handed the bottle to you, whcih you were quick to put back in your bag.

"Is she okay? Not like it's any of my business, but those pills are like one of the strongest shits ever," he frowned.

Taking a deep breath, you explained, "She's not. She hasn't been for quite a while. And the doctors don't say much, but it isn't looking good."

"I- um, I'm sorry," he stammered, looking down. "If you or her ever need anything, you know you can talk to me, right?"

You nodded, leg bouncing up and down.

"Here," he said, scribbling down something on a ripped piece of paper. "My address. If you ever need it."

"Thank you," you looked into his eyes, words barely a whisper. "I really appreciate it."

His knee bumped yours, like soothing it down, keeping it steady. "Anytime," he smiled.

You gave him an awkward smile, looking away.

The green folder, clutched tightly in your arms, contained the first draft of yours and Coriolanus' design for the Hunger Games. You both were going to introduce it to Dean Highbottom, since you needed to inform him of who formed your team and some other information. Then, he would grant the two of you an interview with Dr. Gaul.

Once, Coriolanus had referred to the folder as 'your baby'. You had given him a blank stare for a second before the two of you broke down in laughter.

Mindlessly turning around a corner, you bumped into someone's shoulder. A pair of arms caught your own, steadying you, keeping you from falling.

"Whoa, sorry-"

The folder. You quickly stepped back, freeing the folder from being crushed any further. Compulsively checking if the folder was okay, you failed to identify the pair of arms that had held you seconds before.

It was okay. Your baby was okay.

"So sorry, I- Coriolanus?" you asked as you finally lifted your gaze. "I thought you were coming by later?"

"Couldn't wait. I was actually looking for you. I just saw Dean Highbottom enter his office. Campus is pretty deserted, so I'd say we could be the first ones."

A soft smile graced his face.

"Shall we then?" you posed the courtsy question playfully.

"We shall"

The two of you made your way to the Dean's office, gushing about the project like two schoolgirls. Grades and rivalry were not brought up once. Perhaps just because you wanted the day to be perfect.

After knocking on Dean Highbottom's door and hearing a 'come in', Coriolanus opened the door and both of you came in.

"Look who it is! Snow and Y/l/n. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes", the Dean greeted you.

Coriolanus and you shared a glance before giving the Dean a polite smile.

"Are you here about the project?"

"We are," you answered, gesturing to the green folder in your hands.

"As in the two of you are submitting the proposal together?" the bearded man asked, raising his eyebrows. When Coriolanus nodded, he let out a chuckle. "I thought I wouldn't live to see the day."

You offered an awkward smile as you and the blond sat in the seats before the Dean's desk. You silently handed him your folder. After opening it and browsing through the various concepts and sketches, Dean Highbottom closed the folder, tapping his figertips against it.

Nervousness gnawed your insides, your leg bouncing up and down in anxiety. You hadn't even noticed this, too caught up into thinking the absolute worst of the situation; until you felt a knee- his knee- press into yours. Suddenly very aware of what was happening outside your mind, you blinked once, as to come back into reality, and then again, swifting your eyes to Coriolanus besides you.

For a moment, just a moment, you saw only a pair of eyes that guaranteed comfort peering into yours, crowned by the softests of golden curls. And then you saw the snarky comments, the whole usurping-your-place scheme, the perfect grades and the annoyingly pitched voice. The smile froze on your lips. Fuck.

"So," the Dean's voice broke the silence. "Are you two dating yet? Because it would really benefit you"

Both your head and his snapped into the Dean's direction.

"Pardon?!"

"What?"

Two pairs of eyes now looked wide and with a mix of disbelief and annoyance at the Dean.

"I take it you're not." No shit.

You were still too astounded to speak. What did he mean yet? He was your proffesor. He should, must, know that everything between the two of you is rivalry. Right?

"What, um, what did you mean it would benefit us?" Coriolanus asked, his voice as thin as thread.

"Well I eyed your proposal. And it's good. More than good. It has a lot of potential. But Volumnia Gaul loves one thing more than her creations. Gossip. Drama. If she hears the two of you are dating, she'll make you the Capitol's power couple. She'll give you a story. You will become her favourites. If you want to win at all costs, I'm just giving you a shortcut." He stared at the pair in front of him."But, overall, you've done a great work. I'll leave you to ponder it and I'll alert you when Dr Gaul is ready to see you."

You nodded, as Coriolanus and you mumbled 'thank you's and 'goodbye's and 'have a nice day's before leaving the office.

Campus wasn't very crowded yet; only a couple of students could be seen lurking around. The morning still preserved its coldness, dew remained on the grass.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you started walking, the blond boy quick to catch up.

You hated how you got caught up in this mess. All because you and him needed help. And because he and you were the only answer to the other's problem.

"Y/n?" Coriolanus spoke softly. "How do you feel... about what the Dean said?"

Sighing, you replied, "I just don't know. I mean, this was all crazy before but now? I'm confused, I guess."

"Don't you think it can help us even more?" he frowned.

"But we don't need any more help. We joined forces, no one can beat us, there's no need for us to-"

"I know we can do it without Gaul's help. But it’s one thing to win this aid, and another thing to become Gaul’s favourites. Do you realise how many doors she could open for us?” Coriolanus had stopped both of you now, his body blocking your way, hands in your shoulders, eyes fixed on yours.

“C’mon, Y/n, it’s just pretending,” he pleaded. “Plus, we’re in this to help each other out, right?”

A warm smile spread over his lips, one that only encouraged you and painted a smile of your own on your mouth.

“Fine. We’ll do this lunatic shit. Since you’re not able to reach my level without my help,” you teased, moving past him and resuming your way.

“Sure, Y/n. Whatever makes you sleep at night!” you heard Snow shout behind you.

You just gave him the finger, biting back a smile as you walked away.

The news spread like wildfire through the campus. The dean's offhand comment had ignited a storm of speculation and gossip. As you navigated through the university halls, it was impossible to ignore the curious glances and hushed conversations that followed you.

The library, once your sanctuary of academic warfare, now became the epicenter of buzzing rumors. Students stole glances at you and Coriolanus, whispering behind cupped hands as you pretended not to notice. The atmosphere had shifted, and your every move seemed to be scrutinized under an invisible magnifying glass.

Your next meeting at the library felt different. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the weight of the rumors hung in the room. As you both delved into your project, the tension was palpable. Every accidental touch or shared smile now carried an added layer of significance.

By the third week, the rumors had taken a life of their own. The once reluctant collaboration now felt like an uncomfortable alliance, forged not just for academic success but to navigate the newfound attention. Your life, once a sheltering and private, now felt like a fishbowl.

The doors that led to Gaul's lab appeared impossibly big. You let out a shaky breath, one you didn't know you were holding. Bouncing your leg usually was how you showed your nerves, but, since you were standing, you settled with just a trembling pinky finger.

Cold fingers were wrapping around your hand before you knew it.

"What are you doing?" you turned to Coriolanus.

"Gaul's no fool. We have to put on our best efforts to make her believe we are together. You have to help, too. And your hands were shaking," he shrugged.

Taking a deep breath, you swallowed his words and leaned further into his arm, clinging to him like a good girlfriend would.

As if on cue, the door swung open, revealing brown and blue eyes shooting a daring look. The woman’s face was instantly lit up with a smirk.

“Coriolanus Snow and Y/n Y/l/n. The sweethearts Dean Highbottom has told me so much about,” Volumnia Gaul greeted the both of you. “Please, come inside.”

She stepped aside to let you in. The ceiling seemed to be miles away from the floor. White, ivory columns welcomed you, glass cabinets displaying all sorts of weird creatures and experiments.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Gaul commented behind you.

There was just something so... unsettling about her, something you couldn't quite place but that was ticking you off

It's for the better.

That had been your mantra for the past few days. The end justifies the means. You kept telling yourself that you didn't want this, that you were only doing this for convinience. But lately you hadn't really been feeling that way. Not when you were sitting right next to him, laughing mere seconds ago, his eyes staring into yours, not trying to intimidate you but more in an attentive way.

He thought you looked so delicate and alluring. You did often, as of late. There were a few stray strands of hair that hid your dashing smile from Coriolanus. A smile he had so recently grown so fond of.

He just couldn't resist the urge to tuck them behind your ear; his fingers a soft caress against your skin. And so he did.

His touch was feather-like, as if you were a porcelain doll that was about to break. At the sudden contact, you shifted your gaze from the papers on the table to look at him. And, god, you almost wish you hadn’t. Because he looked otherworldly just sitting there besides you, hand behind your ear, lips parted slightly, dangerously close to you.

“Your hair was getting in your eye,” he mumbled.

The proximity was going to kill you. He was invading all of your senses. And you hated it. You hated it because this wasn’t even real. It was just supposed to help you with Gaul, nothing more. You hated it because it didn’t feel that way. You hated it because this was not the Coriolanus you knew; not the Coriolanus you chose to know.

“Thanks,” you breathed.

You were scared. As pure and simple as that. This was uncharted territory for you; you had never seen this part of him. It frightened you because you were losing control over your emotions.

"Coryo..."

He was convinced you were goingo to give into his desires. You were convinced for a moment, too. But then it occurred to you that this wasn't supposed to be real. That whatever you had between you both was just a scheme. That he was just joking.

"What did you score on the last biology exam?"

You mentally cursed yourself as soon as the words left your mouth. You felt yourself involuntarily slipping away from his touch.

“100%,” he responded, frowning. “Why?”

“Guess all these time around me wasn’t enough. I got 102%,” you smiled, trying to sound (hoping to sound) less awkward than you sounded in your head.

“How’s that even possible? I thought there were no extra exercises.”

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat before continuing. “I detailed every answer more than it was needed, so.”

“Oh. Well, congrats.” His lips were pressed into a thin line that he tried to transform into a smile, but ended up just contorting his face.

You looked at the papers before you, laying in a mess on the table, surrounded by pencils, sticky notes and highlighters. Then your eyes peered at the window besides your spot. The sun was setting behind the Capitol’s skyline, painting golden and rosy hues over the library. It was getting late.

“I- I think I should go. I’d better go home before it darkens.”

Coriolanus nodded. "Cool. I'm gonna get going too."

You bit your lip as you stood up, gathering your work. Not another word was uttered until you noticed the librarian peering over at you from behind some shelves, and students at the end of the aisle were turning their heads to you.

Perks of being Gaul’s favourite couple, you supposed.

You leaned to Coriolanus’ level again, pulling him into a side hug as you whispered in his ear.

“They’re looking.”

And then, you pressed a kiss to his forehead and walked out.

Too overwhelmed thinking about that moment with Coriolanus, you missed the way his eyes stayed on you until you left the library, and the way his fingers lingered on the part of his forehead that had been in touch with your lips.

The thought of him plagued your mind as you made your way home. Not even the biting cold of the evening could take the warmth spreading over your cheeks. What was going on with you? He was the guy you hated, you used to hate, the one that was trying to take over your spot.

But your attempts to convince yourself were vain. Because you no longer felt raging hate when you thought of Coriolanus. You couldn't excatly pin what it was, but it was definitely not hatred.

Reaching inside you bag for the key of your family apartment, you sighed, as if that was going to clear and sort out your messy feelings. Yet you didn't even need to open the door, for it was opened swiftly in front of you.

"Y/n!" your father pulled you in. The frown between his brows, the worry reflected in his eyes, the way he held you. Something was not right.

"Dad, what's wrong? I-"

"It's your mom, she- she started to cough so much blood. She's unconscious now, I- I was just about to take her to the hospital."

"Oh my God." Tears stung in your eyes. You knew she was bad, worse than she'd ever been, but this was far from what the doctors had informed you about. "Shit, where's Deena?"

"Your sister's staying over at a friend's. Is there anyone who can take you for the night? Someone who knew about your mother, if it makes you more comfortable?" he asked, rubbing your arm.

Coriolanus. You hated that he was the first person to come to mind, but the truth was thas this project had swept you up from practically every other aspect of your life. You hadn't seen your best friends much, since they were also focused on their projects. Most of your time had been spent with Coriolanus. And you didn't know how to feel about that. Disgusted, you supposed. But that didn't quite match the tugging in your chest whenever you met him at the library, or the calmness that took over you when his knee pressed into your anxiously bouncing one.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so," you nodded, blinking the tears away, though they slid down your cheeks anyway.

"Good. I don't think it'd be good for you to be alone right now."

You hurriedly packed your essentIals and some extra clothes, making your way to the door. You held it open for your dad as he carried your mother.

"I'll see you soon. Be safe, Y/n," he whispered.

"You too, Dad."

You tried your hardest not to break down as you saw your father making his way to the doctor's with your mom in his arms.

But once he was out of sight, you rushed out of the filthy apartment building. As you ran through the Capitol's streets, you remembered the now wrinkled paper that he had written his address on.

"Here. My address. If you ever need it."

It sat scrunched in your coat's pocket. You kept running as your trembling hands unfolded it, and quickened your pace once you'd read the address.

You arrived at his door short of breath, cheeks reddened from the effort, tears dried from the wind. Your knuckles softly knocked at his door.

Mess. You felt like a mess. Everything you had known to this day seemed to have completely flipped around, changing everything all of a sudden. Your mind was a tangled, impossible knot of thoughts and feelings and emotions that were constantly contradicting each other.

A blonde girl opened the front door. To your blurry eyes, she looked like an angel.

"Can I help you?" she kindly prompted, a concerned frown appearing in between her brows.

"Yeah- I'm looking for Coriolanus?" you said, voice on the point of breaking.

"Come in, he'll be right here," the woman spoke, stepping aside so you could come in and closing the door right after. She sat you down on an armchair, her touch gentle and tender. "Coryo! Someone's here for you."

As soon as the words left her mouth, you heard footsteps tumbling down the hallway and into the entrance. The instant his eyes met yours, he put everything else aside. His sole focus was you. The red around your eyes, eyelashes glinting from the recent caress of tears, shaky hands, bottom lip between your teeth, and your leg bouncing up and down almost uncontrollably.

He wanted to hold you forever. Take you in his arms like you were a fragile flower, yet the most fierce of them all. Rivalry long forgotten and buried, mean comments and hurtful offenses forgiven without a second thought. He saw Y/n. Not perfect grades, not snarky remarks, not an opponent. Just Y/n. Sweet, sweet, Y/n.

And you didn't see Coriolanus Snow. The blond standing in front of you now was not the one you'd been fighting for the better part of your teenage years, even before. He was not the one competing against you. Who was him then, if not the Coriolanus Snow you had known all your life?

Coryo.

"Y/n, hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked, voice surprisingly soft, even for his cousin. He crouched down, placing a cold, calming hand on your fidgety leg.

You could feel the tears welling up again, because he was there for you.

“I… I’m going to head out,” the woman said. “I’ll be back in a while.”

Coriolanus muttered a goodbye and then she was gone. And as soon as she was, you broke down.

Burying your head in your hands, tears burnt past your eyes, flowing now freely. All that could be heard were your heavy, shaky breaths. His hand on your back, tracing small circles, made you pull your head up.

Fuck, why were you even here?

"Y/n?"

"It's my mom." You tried to dry your cheeks, only for tears to fall down again. "She-she lost consciousness. The doctors didn't even say she was that bad. And I.. I just arrived there and there was nothing I could do-" your voice broke before you could finish the sentence.

He instantly pulled you into a hug, your head hidden in the crook of his neck, arms around it. One of his hands was wrapped around your torso, safely drawing you to him, while the other was tangled in your hair.

"I am so, so, sorry," he whispered, breath tickling your ear. You only clinged to him tighter; the only thing on your mind other than your mother right then was how warm and guarded you felt in his arms.

When you finally retracted to look at him, you found your body almost leaning into him again, yearning for his embrace. You inhaled sharply.

"I'm by your side no matter what, okay?" he assured you, eyes piercing yours, hands sliding up your figure to cup your face. "I'm here for you."

You did your best to gather yourself and nod at his words. But then you felt him pulling away in the slightest. No. You wanted him close. You wanted him.

You rose a hand to his neck, fingers dancing along his skin, messing with the blond curls they could reach.

"Hey, Y/n," Coriolanus called out. "She's going to make it. She'll be okay. And so will you."

A knot formed in your throat, the prequel to infinite tears, because who was him and what was he doing to your heart?

Whatever prejudice or thought you had against him was blurrying in your mind. The person he was supposed to represent in your head was further and further from the one barely inches away from you now. And then it hit you. Right then, right there. It didn't scare you. You wanted to know this person. You wanted to give the both of you a second consideration under different lightning.

And so, you closed the gap between Coriolanus and you, as he had tried and wanted so bad to do mere hours before. His lips were warm, contrary to every other part of his body you had ever been in contact with.

For a fraction of second, he hesitated, frozen in his spot, convincing himself that this was happening, that this was real, that you were real. But once he kissed back, he just couldn't let you go.

His hands were suddenly everywhere, exploring your body and drawing you to him as he kissed you, all the desire and passion (and even the resentment, too) poured into the kiss. Coriolanus wanted to make you feel okay. Not just now. But 'now' would have to do as of that moment. And if this was how you wanted the pain to go away, so be it. Fingers digging in your hips made you leave out a mixture of a gasp and a moan, which Coriolanus used to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Everthing he did got you addicted, craving more.

You had both been sitting on the floor, but now you were climbing into his lap, pulling away for the smallest of seconds, but either way Coriolanus was quick to reunite your lips again. Your mouths danced together. Your sking tingled pleasantly under his touch; a constant fire travelling beneath his fingers. But when his hand raised to your cheek, checking for the trace of any new tears. It was simply enough to melt you on the spot.

Tugging at his hair, you angled his face to leave a trace of open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. His groan reverberated through your skin.

The pain was buried somewhere in your mind, but your heart didn’t ache in that moment; he was all your senses were taking in. And you felt safe.

© heartcereql, 2023 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

[bro-atz]

if only it was simple [bro's 500 — hongjoong]

[enemies to lovers, smut, royal!au, hongjoong/afab!reader]

requested by: 🍀

in which: kim hongjoong is the bane of your existence, but you cannot seem to live without him.

word count: 2k

content: smut, bathroom sex, blowjob, facial, doggy, window sex, UNPROTECTED SEX (PLS WRAP UP IRL), consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: @pocketjoong @nebulousbrainsoup pls don't kill me i have more things to finish writing hehe

Every time your parents hosted a royal ball for all the neighboring kingdoms, you resented them because you hated the balls they threw. You honestly hated being royalty because that was just not something you vibe with. No, you liked peace, quiet, and when a sense of calm washes over the castle while you read all the books in the royal library. So, a mass gathering of people was definitely not your cup of tea. Gosh, how you would prefer a cup of tea over the stupid blood red wine in your glass.

It wasn't just the noise, either. It was the people who brought the noise. You didn't know how on Earth other princesses could gossip for minutes, hours, days, freaking eons, but they did, and you hated it. And the princes were just as bad, but rather than gossips, they just spread vulgarities. You wanted to wash your mouth with soap just listening to what they would talk about.

Prince Hongjoong of the Kim Kingdom was the worst of them all. He gossiped with the princesses, he engaged in the vulgar talk with the princes, and he treated you like scum. How you loathed him. You loathed the way he talked, walked, acted— the entirety of his being made you feel like he was put on this world to torture you. And, of course, that torturous being just had to approach you the second you fell within his line of vision.

"Hello, princess," he greeted you with a very obviously sardonic, sickly sweet voice.

"Prince Hongjoong," you bit back as you maintained eye contact with him.

"Ooh, yeah, I did not like the way you said my name just now, princess. Why don't you try a nicer tone? It would suit you."

"Go jump up your own ass and die."

"So mean," Hongjoong sniffled and wiped away his crocodile tears. "You should really treat your guests better."

You didn't even bother responding to him. You quickly turned your head away and walked away from Hongjoong, knowing that the man would not follow. He knew better than that.

While you desperately wanted a distraction, there was quite literally no one you wanted to distract yourself with. Again, you seriously hated these stupid balls. Rather than talk to another royal, you called over one of the butlers and tried to give him the glass.

"No, princess, you mustn't waste," the butler scolded you.

"Please, I didn't even want this in the first place," you sighed heavily. "Can't you just give it to someone else?"

"I'm sorry, princess, but I cannot do that either. You will just have to finish it."

Swell. With a wave of your hand, you dismissed the butler and cradled the glass in your hands, your fingernails clinking against it as you tapped your fingers. Yes, you knew not to waste food or water, but wine was not water, and it wasn't like you could give it to some starving child because children were not supposed to drink wine. So, you needed to dispose of it in another way.

It was when you accidentally made eye contact with Hongjoong again and saw the smirk spread across his face did you find a solution to your little problem. To top that, he was flirting with another princess from another kingdom, flaring up your irritation even more. You glided towards him and very purposefully spilled the dark liquid all over his jacket, effectively ruining it.

"Oops," you said rather flatly.

"Really?" Hongjoong responded with a sigh of exasperation followed by a half-assed chuckle.

"You should get that cleaned up! Here, I'll do it for you," the princess Hongjoong was talking to inserted herself between the two of you, ending your slight glaring contest.

"No, princess. It wasn't your fault. It was Princess Y/N's, so I believe she should take accountability for her actions," Hongjoong shook his head. Then, turning to meet your glare with a cheek smile, he added, "Don't you agree, Y/N?"

Before long, you were in your personal bathroom. You found the supplies you needed to get the wine stain out of Hongjoong's jacket, and rather than take the jacket off, he kept it on. He sat on the edge of the basin and waited for you to begin correcting your mistake.

"Be honest with me, princess," Hongjoong whispered as you got to work. "Do you have a problem with a wine or with me?"

"Both," you immediately responded. "But the lesser of the two evils is definitely the wine."

"That stings."

"Tough."

Hongjoong let out a scoff. He leaned back and observed you working on his jacket, the warmth from the alcohol he drank that night started to consume his body— it was either the alcohol or lust actually. To figure out which it was, he tucked the hairs framing your face behind your ear before placing his fingers under your chin, making you look up at him. He didn't mean to look down as he wanted to observe your facial features, but considering you were bent over, he got an eyeful of your cleavage. It was definitely not alcohol, but lust. His fingers then moved from your chin to your hair, his fingers raking through before grabbing a fistful. He ran his tongue over his lower lip before biting his lower lip, his eyes darkening with every passing second.

"Down on your knees, princess," Hongjoong said in a very low voice.

"Absolutely not," you flat out refused.

"You better listen to me when I'm asking nicely."

"Asking nicely would include the words "please" or "may", and I've never heard either of those words leave your tongue," you nearly spat out. "Besides, you said we would never do this again—"

"I know what I said, and I don't care anymore. Knees."

With a slightly wistful sigh, you lowered yourself to your knees, Hongjoong's lap before your face. Your muscle memory activated, and you got to work on undoing Hongjoong's pants, your fingers pulling at the waistbands.

"I thought you didn't want to do this," Hongjoong snickered. "But you seem so eager right now."

"Shut up, Hongjoong," you breathed out before revealing his hard red cock, your mouth watering.

You completely took Hongjoong by surprise when you immediately took him into your mouth, your head going all the way down, the tip of his cock brushing the back of your throat. Hongjoong flung his head back and bit his lower lip to hold back his moans. His hold on your hair got tighter, and he guided your head back up, his hand moving you at the calm, steady pace that he wanted.

“Yes, just like that,” he hissed through grit teeth. “Keep going, princess.”

When Hongjoong shoved your head down all the way every so often to get you to gag, it made you resent him a little more, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like the rough way he was treating you while you sucked his cock. You also kind of liked it when he praised you and massaged your head when he adjusted his grip of your hair, and when you heard his breathing hitch and his moans get higher in pitch, it filled you with excitement.

“Oh— I’m cumming!” Hongjoong groaned, his cock quivering uncontrollably in your mouth.

He pulled your head back and rubbed himself a couple times before decorating your face with white stripes. You licked your lips, the saltiness of his cum lingering on your tongue as you tasted him. While it was fun momentarily, you frowned at him and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Goddammit, Hongjoong, now I need to clean my face,” you grumbled as you stood up, your fingers already beginning to clear his cum from your face.

“Would you rather I have you swallow?” he asked cheekily.

“Honestly, yeah. It’s neater that way.”

You heard him let out a slight chuckle as you turned your back to him. You poured some water into the sink and bent over to begin washing your face, letting your guard down completely. You were so fixated on clearing the opaque off your skin that you didn’t even realize Hongjoong had approached you from behind and started undressing you from the skirt down.

“Hongjoong! What are you doing?!” you yelled at him as you tried to turn around and get him to stop.

“Princess, you can’t tell me that you don’t want this right now,” Hongjoong sighed as he forced you over the sink, his bare waist pressing against yours. “You’re so wet. It’s as if your cunt is begging for me.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Hongjoong’s moans earlier turned you on to an incredible extreme, and you were itching for relief. You pressed your lips together before admitting defeat and saying, “Then you better do a good job, or I will—”

“Don’t worry, princess,” Hongjoong interrupted. “I always do a good job. You know that.”

Spreading your ass cheeks, Hongjoong got a stellar view of your glistening cunt. He ran his tongue over his lower lip as his thumbs neared your folds and spread them, your gaping hole eagerly waiting for him to fill you up. He wasted no time in lining up his cock with your cunt and shoving into you, your entire body lurching forward with the impact. Your hands gripped the sides of the sink, your hold getting tighter as he began to move at a steady rhythm, the sounds of his waist slapping against yours echoing in the silence of the bathroom.

“Oh, princess,” the prince groaned blissfully. “You’re always so tight— you were made for me, weren’t you?”

You answered with a little yelp when he changed his angle and thrust upwards, his cock rubbing against your walls all the right ways. It felt so right, but truth be told, it wasn’t enough for you. Neither you nor him, apparently, as he grabbed your waist and pulled you upright. His cock left you for a split moment so he could turn you around to face him. He then led you to the sole window in your bathroom.

Bottles clattered to the ground as Hongjoong swept everything off the windowsill and hoisted you there. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he prepared to enter you, this tip of his cock teasing your clit. A whine emerged from the back of your throat as you gripped Hongjoong shoulder’s, the fabric from his jacket getting bunched up in your grasp.

“Don’t tease me,” you whimpered as you pulled him towards you.

Hongjoong let out a snort of amusement. Locking eyes with you, he did as you quite literally begged and stopped teasing you, his cock swiftly entering you and filling you up once more. You groaned in slightly relief before biting on your lower lip to keep all of your lewd noises to a minimum. However, Hongjoong didn’t like that. With his thumb, he pulled down on your lower lip, forcing you to let go.

“You know I like to hear you, princess,” Hongjoong murmured as his lips neared yours, his breath brushing past your lips.

“We can’t be too loud, though,” you replied through erratic breathing as Hongjoong’s thrusts sped up. “The ball is still going on.”

“What a shame,” he sighed.

So, to help you keep quiet, Hongjoong’s lips met yours, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth and tangling with yours. You moaned into his mouth as he kissed you feverishly, his waist gyrating into yours with incredible speed and vigor. Your hands moved from his shoulders to the back of his neck, your fingers running through the hair on the back of his head.

“O-Oh, Joong!” you cried.

“Are you close, princess?” he asked, his breathing hitching as he felt himself nearing his climax.

“Mmhmm… Oh, God!”

You flung your head back as you felt pleasure wash over you, white filling your vision. You were blinking stars out of your eyes when Hongjoong guided your face back down, his lips meeting your again as he seemed to not be able to get enough of you.

“May I cum inside, princess?” he asked you breathlessly in between kisses.

“Please.”

Hongjoong moved away from you slightly so he could get a better hold of you as he thrust rapidly into you several times before releasing his load inside you. His groan of ecstasy echoed in your ears as he dropped his head to the nook of your neck, his hot breath hitting your collarbone.

“Was that good enough for you, princess?”

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