#character X you

[aventurineswife]

Can I request: workaholic Reader with their hair normally tied/pinned up.

Maybe in a messy bun, or a high ponytail that looks deceptively short but is actually twisted and pinned to look that way (speaking from experience, I do the second one more often). Anyway—

Reader walking into the archives first thing in the morning to cross-reference some information they were looking at last night, and it’s the first time Dan Heng (and any of the crew, really) has ever seen Reader with their hair completely down.

And, yeah, it’s a little frizzy because Reader doesn’t do much more than shampooing, conditioning and brushing it out; but it so, so very soft and fluffy. It rivals Jing Yuan’s hair in fluffiness and it just looks really nice. 💖

Caught in the Morning Haze

Summary: An early morning in the Astral Express archives leads to an unexpected moment of quiet connection between Dan Heng and you. When you, usually reserved and work-focused, show up with your hair completely down for the first time, Dan Heng finds himself unexpectedly captivated. Amid the usual routine, he lets slip a rare compliment that lingers in the air, sparking a subtle shift in your dynamic.

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Fluff, Slow Burn, Quiet Intimacy, Hair Down Trope (?), Workaholic Reader.

The corridors of the Astral Express were dimly lit, the quiet hum of the train a constant companion. It was early—too early for anyone else to be stirring, save for the occasional flicker of March’s light steps or Himeko’s tea kettle boiling in the lounge. Most of the crew preferred to start their mornings slowly. But not you.

The door to the archives hissed open, revealing its familiar quietude. Stacks of books, glowing monitors, and scrolls arranged with Dan Heng’s meticulous care greeted you. You stepped inside, your pace brisk, already reaching for a datapad to cross-reference some notes from the previous night.

Dan Heng, however, was already there, seated at his usual spot behind the central desk. His teal eyes flickered up from a scroll he’d been examining, only to widen slightly in surprise.

Your hair—usually swept up in a high ponytail or pinned into a messy bun that spoke to long nights and longer workdays—was down. Completely untethered, it cascaded over your shoulders in soft, slightly frizzy waves.

It wasn’t perfect—there was a fluffiness to it that spoke of minimal effort, but it had an air of naturalness that somehow made it more striking. The soft strands framed your face, adding an unusual touch of warmth to your typically serious, workaholic demeanor. In that moment, your hair seemed to capture the same quiet grace and softness that surrounded Dan Heng himself.

Dan Heng’s gaze lingered just a second too long before he remembered himself. He cleared his throat quietly, returning his focus to the scroll in his hands. “Good morning,” he said, his tone even, though there was a subtle note of awkwardness beneath it.

“Morning,” you replied absently, already flipping through a thick tome you’d left on the desk the night before. You didn’t notice his lingering gaze or the way his fingers paused mid-turn on the page he was reading.

But Dan Heng was acutely aware of it. The sight of you like this—a little more unguarded, a little more human—unsettled him in ways he couldn’t quite define. He found himself thinking about how soft your hair looked, how it seemed to glow in the dim archive lighting. It reminded him of sunlight filtering through clouds—an image both soothing and strange in its sudden intimacy.

“You’re up early,” he said, breaking the silence as you scribbled notes onto a datapad.

“So are you,” you countered without looking up.

“I always am,” he replied simply.

You let out a soft chuckle, one he rarely heard from you. “Guess I am too, now.”

Dan Heng hummed, leaning back in his chair slightly as he continued to watch you from the corner of his eye. For someone so consumed by work, you rarely let anything distract you. Yet, in this moment, he found himself wishing you would notice his gaze, even if it might fluster him.

He frowned slightly at himself, refocusing on his work. “You should take better care of yourself,” he murmured after a pause, his tone softer this time.

That caught your attention. You glanced up at him, eyebrows raised. “Excuse me?”

“Your hair,” he said, gesturing vaguely with his hand. “It’s... frizzy.”

You blinked, momentarily surprised. Then a small laugh escaped you. “What are you, my stylist now?”

Dan Heng’s ears turned faintly pink, though his expression remained stoic. “I’m just saying... it looks softer than usual,” he muttered, almost to himself. “You should wear it down more often.”

You froze, the pen in your hand hovering over your notes. “What?”

“It suits you,” he added quickly, almost reluctantly, before turning his attention fully back to his scroll, as if the conversation had already ended.

For a moment, you stared at him, caught off-guard. Dan Heng wasn’t one for compliments—or conversation, for that matter—so his comment felt oddly personal.

A faint warmth crept into your chest, though you quickly dismissed it, shaking your head and returning to your work. “I’ll... keep that in mind,” you said quietly, your voice softer than before.

In the silence that followed, the two of you continued your respective tasks, though an unspoken understanding lingered in the air. Dan Heng stole another glance at you, his expression unreadable but his thoughts a quiet storm.

Perhaps mornings in the archives weren’t so quiet after all.

[dear-satan]

Dating with rookie!Leon Kennedy | headcanons

ʚ♡⃛ɞ SFW

rookie with the heart of a puppy Leon at the beginning of the relationship is absolutely supercute. A little clumsy, as if he's afraid he'll accidentally screw something up. He always asks if he can hold your hand. Okay Leon, yes, you can - for the 58th time today.

he cooks ... well, he tries Let's admit it - Leon could not cook and if he did something in the kitchen.... His show-off dish was a simple sandwich. But since he started dating something stirred in him - he wanted to show off his best side - supposedly women like resourceful guys in the kitchen. However, one morning when he decided to surprise you with breakfast for bed, well.... Let's just say he nearly burned down the kitchen. The toast turned to coal and the scrambled eggs looked like bioweapons. Yes well... Let's leave the cooking to you

he keeps your picture in his wallet Sometimes, when he can't see you for a few days, he pulls out a photo and sighs - it's not an exaggerated photo like from a fashion magazine cover. Ordinary, natural as you laugh at a silly joke he told you. He was really happy that the Instax was just lying next to him

he is a golden retriever type Honest, dedicated, loyal to the bone, and when he hugs you, it's like the world is no longer scary.

he writes you messages that he edits 12 times Before he sends "Hey, what's up? 😊", he rewrites it 10 times, adds emoticons, deletes emoticons, wonders if it sounds too pushy. When you write him back, he reads your message 8 times and smiles so hard that his cheeks hurt

sometimes he calls just to hear your voice "Hey… nothing happened, just…. I just remembered how ridiculously you sneeze. And I had to smile. And I had to tell you about it. Well, then… good night."

ʚ♡⃛ɞ NSFW

rookie, but not so innocent At first he was shy, touched cautiously, even too gently, but once he got rolling... Oh god. A completely different energy comes out of him - his strong grip leaves little bruises on your body (of course, afterwards he apologizes and lays lovely kisses on them) and his deep and powerful thrusts pull every moan out of you

total praise kink Tell him he's doing something right or he's YOUR good boy and he'll crumble under you - helpless, desperate

he is focused ONLY on you It's not just about sex - he wants to know what makes you a groaning mess underneath him. He analyzes your every sigh, writes down in his head every place where his touch makes you shake. He just loves the way you scratch his back when his cock is buried deeper in you than he thought it could be

high libido after a stressful day at work We know very well that police work can be stressful. such days act on Leon like an afterburner for his sex drive. as soon as he gets home and the door closes behind him.... Well, there is no salvation for you. He takes you no matter what room you are in or what you happen to be doing - his hot mouth attacks yours and his hands immediately pull down your homemade pants and underwear. He'll eat you whether you're on the kitchen counter, the table, the couch or in the shower. And then he'll bend you in half OR position himself behind you, entering you raw and bringing you to at least two orgasms

He has a weakness for your thighs He can't look away. Whether you're sitting in shorts or knee-high socks, Leon has his gaze glued like hot glue. Sometimes ( or often ) when you are watching a movie and his head is on your thighs, he starts placing wet kisses on them. In turn, when he licks your wet pussy his hands ALWAYS squeeze your skin tightly

he loves to whisper in your ear “You're so tight love.” “You don't even know how much I've missed you...” “You make it feel so damn good...” - all whispered in that deep, slightly hoarse voice. And you are melting.

[boxxing-flavored]

PLEASE WRITE MORE SUBBY ABBY i love it

Abby x roommate reader

NSFW Thanks for sending a request I love sub Abby!! Love you 🫶🫶❤️❤️

Abby kicks your door open without knocking.

Again.

You barely glance up. She’s standing there in her blood-slicked tank top, chest rising and falling with barely contained rage, her braid half undone, dirt smeared across her jaw. Her face is flushed, lips set in a tight line, and the second your eyes meet, she looks away.

“Rough day, princess?” you ask dryly, leaning back in your chair.

“Don’t start,” she snaps, already pacing the room.

You watch her for a second. She’s vibrating with frustration, jaw clenched so tight you wonder if she’s going to break her teeth. Her hands flex like she’s looking for something to hit.

“I asked Owen to cover my six and he fucking wandered off,” she mutters. “I had to drag his ass out from under a goddamn truck while we were surrounded!”

You whistle low. “Should’ve left him there.”

She stops pacing long enough to glare at you, her biceps twitching under her tank top. “Yeah, well. I didn’t.” A pause. Then a snarl. “Fucking idiot.”

You huff and raise a brow, not happy that she was directed her frustration toward you. “You’re acting like a brat.”

“Excuse me?” Her voice sharpens, but you can hear the breath hitch.

“You heard me.” You set your boots down slowly, standing up from your chair. “Storming in here, throwing your gear around like I’m supposed to fix it. Got all that tension in your shoulders, and nowhere to put it.”

You get close. Not touching her, but close enough that her breathing falters. Her eyes dart down to your mouth, then your hands.

There it is.

“I think I know what’ll shut you up,” you say softly, voice like velvet-wrapped steel.

She scoffs. “Like hell you do.”

You tilt your head, slow, lazy. “Get on your knees and prove me wrong.”

Her nostrils flare.

You don’t back down.

Neither does she.

At least, not until you step forward and slide your thumb against her bottom lip.

Her whole body freezes. That cocky fire dims. She opens her mouth like it’s involuntary- like she can’t not. Her lips wrap around your thumb with instinctual need, and she starts sucking before you even ask.

“Yeah,” you murmur, sliding it deeper. “Just like that. That’s what you need, huh?”

You’ve got Abby backed up against the wall, lips swollen, chin slick with spit but even now, she’s snarling.

“You done being a bitch?” you ask, voice low.

She laughs. Short. Mean.

“Try asking nicer.”

You raise a brow.

She smirks. “Didn’t think so.”

And then she shoves you. Hard.

You stagger back just a little just enough for her to pounce. She slams you against the opposite wall, forearm to your collarbone, hips pinning yours.

“I’m sick of you thinking you’ve got me figured out,” she growls.

You grin. “I do. You’re soaked.”

She studies your face “Go to hell.”

“Been there. Fucked someone that looked just like you.”

Her scowl deepens then she grabs you by the throat and kisses you like she wants to bite through you. Her thigh slides between yours. She fists your shirt and drags you to the bed like she’s got something to prove.

You let her climb on top. Let her grind against you. You let her strip you down. Let her try.

And she does. She tries like hell. Stripping her self of her patrol clothes.

She straddles your hips, grabs your jaw, ruts down on you like she thinks she can ride you into submission. But she’s clumsy with it, too desperate, too angry. She drips on your abs as she tugs at your strap like she’s about to take it and fuck you.

“You look ridiculous,” you mutter.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

She leans down, teeth to your throat.

But before she can speak

You flip her.

Faster than she can process, she’s on her stomach, gasping. your weight pressed into her back. You’ve got her wrists pinned behind her back, your breath hot at her ear.

“You wanna top me?” you hiss. “Keep dreaming.”

She kicks her feet, tries to twist free. “Hey-“

Smack.

Your palm lands hard on her ass.

She jerks. Groans.

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this,” you growl. “You stormed in here looking for someone to fuck the attitude out of you.”

You reach between her legs, drag your fingers along her slit. She’s soaked. You press the strap to her entrance circling her clit with you other hand. without warning you bottom the strap all the way to the hilt, she gasps- fists curling, body jolting.

“Fuck!”

You thrust deeper. Harder. Her muscles tense against you, thighs shaking, but she still throws her hips back to meet you.

“You’re not gonna win this,” you growl. “You don’t get to act like a fucking brat and except to get whatever the hell you want” you take the strap out and tease her soaked entrance.

She tries to say something snarky back, but the words die on a moan as you bottom out again.

“You like getting put in your place,” you whisper, hand slipping around her throat. “You love this.”

“I hate you,” she breathes.

“Then why are you fucking dripping all over my bed?”

You rut into her harder, unforgiving, and she finally breaks just a little. Her head drops. Her hips start stuttering. She tries to pull away and push back at the same time, torn between fight and pleasure.

“Say it,” you growl, breath hot on her neck. “Say you’re mine.”

“…No.”

Smack. Her ass jiggles beneath your palm.

“Try again.”

“…Fuck” she whines

Smack.

“You’re not getting to cum until you say it.”

Silence. Trembling. Then finally

“I’m yours,” she whispers.

You slow down thrusting deep, dragging it out. She whines, so close to breaking.

“You gonna behave now?”

She pauses.

Then grits out “I’ll try.”

You spank her again. She moans like it hurts good.

“Close?” you murmur.

She nods, cheeks flushed, sweat sticking hair to her face.

“Beg.”

“…Please.”

“Louder.”

“Please- fuck, just let me cum”

And you give it to her- deep, hard, brutal. She comes hard shaking, swearing, biting your sheets, tears stinging her eyes as she rides out every second of it.

She collapses, panting, legs spread, trembling under you.

“…Give me ten minutes,” she mumbles trying not to fall asleep “and I’ll have you regret making me beg”

You chuckle as you brush her hair out of her face “sure”

[insidekatmind]

please do a Kim beomjun from karma fanfic 🙏😭

Undercover~ Kim Beomjun

Wearning: age-gap, manipulation

The silence of the apartment is broken only by the sound of keys in the lock. You run to the entrance, your heart pounding—you haven’t seen him in days, and worry is eating you up.

As soon as the door opens, you see him. Or at least… you think it’s him.

“Honey, you’re finally here… where have you been?” you murmur, your voice cracking with tension, immediately pulling him into a tight, trembling embrace. You don’t notice anything strange: the familiar smell, the warmth of his body… everything seems fine.

But it’s not.

Kim Beom Jun stands still for a moment, surprised by your reaction. Then he hugs you softly, a slow smile spreading across his face. Inside, he laughs. You really thought it was him. That it was Park Seo Joon.

“Sorry, I had problems… but now I’m here,” he whispers to you, his imitation perfect. The voice, the tone, even the way he caresses your back. You leave no room for doubt. You can't even imagine that the man you're holding is not your partner... but his murderer.

You're twenty years old. Young, confident, in love. So fragile that you can't see the shadow that hides behind that gentle smile.

Kim Beom Jun watches you with attentive eyes, analyzing your every reaction. And as he lets you go, taking your hand to enter the house, he convinces himself inside: he can do it. It can be him. It can be Park Seo Joon... even with you

And he will make sure you enjoy every second of it.

[longlostaccount]

“ OOPS , TYPO !! ”

✦ characters : Satoru Gojo , Suguru Geto , Higuruma Hiromi , Choso Kamo , Toji Fushiguro , Sukuna Ryomen , Ino Takuma {new character!} , Nanami Kento

✦ warnings : smut , typos {purpose} , fem!reader , fem!reader x character , pet names , cusses , mature content {18+} ~ I will not be blocking anymore, just don’t blame me if you get in trouble !

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦

[alavestineneas]

Losing dogs

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader

summary: His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return. warnings: not really canon-compliant, mentions of minor violence, blood and shitty relationships word count: 4k

Part 2 is here!

author's note: remember kids, manipulators and sick bastards are only hot in fiction - don't do them (and drugs) in real life!

The polished toes of his new shoes reflected everything in the grand hall—they caught glimmers of lamps adorned with gold, colourful drapes on the enormous windows, and the kaleidoscopic dresses of women around. The chatter filled the room, almost too loud to hear the music—not that he would enjoy it either. Some things require focus.

''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''

Corialanus's face melts into a smile-like expression at the sight of the older couple.

They look like lice in the large building—rich lice, that is. The golden and platinum rings on Missis Fabius's fingers shine with every gemstone known to man, mirroring the bright lights. The jewels look ugly on the wrinkly hand, he notes. What a waste.

''Mister Snow, what a surprise! I was just telling Livia of your prodigious success in your new position. Incredible work, Mr. Snow; simply incredible! ''

The man's face radiated with excitement, getting closer in shade to his burgundy tie. The gold threats on it piqued more interest for Mister Snow than the words of the old man—after all, it's not every day you meet such luxury in person.

The man's wife, however, seemed less enthusiastic; her cold, bored gaze circled him up and down, stopping only after getting the satisfaction of an undoubtedly unpleasant conclusion. 

Coriolanus mentally went over his outfit, hairstyle, and anything else she might have noticed. Nothing was out of place; the holes in his coat were a thing of the past. Still, it was something—that thought found its place in his brain, drilling a small hole in its way. 

''When will we know of your decision, Mister Snow? We gave you time—a lot of time.''

''This evening, Mrs. Fabius. After the play, I promise to give you my answer tonight.''

He has to look first. What fool buys a horse blind? Sure, the horse came with immense fortunes and, most importantly, connections, but still. He couldn't afford to make a hasty decision, especially when the stakes were so high. After all, he was one of the most desirable bachelors; Fabiuses had to thank him for even considering the offer.

''There is no agreement until tomorrow, Mister Snow. We will have you for breakfast at nine o'clock sharp,'' Mr Fabius said, placing a hand on his wife's back and leading her towards the entrance. They could afford not to make one's adieu.

The opera was popular among the richest; all of the seats were taken. He would have lied if he said the golden rails and red velvet didn't make him feel a bit out of place. Nobody paid him any attention, although this time it didn't hurt him as much as usual. He could hide in the shadows of his box seat without being concerned about making an impression.

Not the stage, of course. It was the least of his worries, although he did pay a high price for a ticket. No, he looked at her. 

The golden gown on her was a shimmering masterpiece. Layers and layers of the most expensive fabric covered her body like soft waves, crashing down at the round neckline with their gilded ends. She wore diamond earrings, just like her mother did, although they suited her better. 

Coriolanus remembered her from the academy; she always sat near the window, gazing out at the world with a longing in her eyes. She wasn't a very bright student but rather a dutiful one. always on time, always prepared with her assignments, and always eager to please her teachers. The heiress to the jewellery empire. The flower of the elite social scene. Her presence attracted attention, yet she seamlessly blended into the background, never stealing the spotlight. YN Fabius was everything he needed her to be—a picture, but never a spectacle. 

-

The manor was grand and opulent, showing the wealth and status of the Fabius family. Its sprawling gardens and delicate architecture were a testament to its esteemed position in society. Collums, paintings, and endless staircases stood as if frozen in time. It was as if there was no war just a decade ago. 

''Mister Snow,'' the butler called out, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. ''Breakfast is served in the blue dining hall; if you would please follow me.''

Thousands and thousands of steps and passages lined the walls, leading to various wings and chambers of the mansion. It was warm, even during the cold autumn season. Only keeping the fireplaces always lit must cost a fortune.

When they finally reached the needed room, Coriolanus was slightly out of breath. The blue walls reached the high ceiling, painted with pictures of half-naked gods and goddesses frolicking in fields of flowers. It created the illusion of a smell wafting through the air as if the vibrant colours had come to life. 

The table was served for four, not three, suggesting that someone else was expected to join them. The silverware gleamed under the soft rays of sunshine, casting a shimmering glow across the room—pure silver, nothing less. 

The door behind him opened with a gentle creak, revealing Mr. Fabiuse's humble figure. His simple, at first glance, shirt was another of the perfectly constructed illusions—Coriolanus knew the fabrics like the back of his hand. The shirt, though seemingly plain, was made from the finest Egyptian cotton, woven with intricate patterns. 

''Mister Snow, how good that you came on time. Excuse my ladies, the girls are such girls at every age. Take so long to get ready,'' he laughs. ''Please, take a seat," Mr. Fabius said, gesturing towards a plush chair covered in velvet. 

''There is no point in all of those paints once you hit sixty,'' Mrs.Fabius said, appearing right behind her husband. She circled the table before taking a seat herself, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at the young man. "Let's begin before the food grows cold," she added with a sigh, her tone tinged with resignation. 

''Of course,'' Mr. Fabius nodded, lifting the lid on the first dish. The aroma of it filled the room, and Coriolanus couldn't help but feel his hunger grow. He didn't have the habit of eating so much in the morning—another thing he needs to adjust about his routine. 

When Mr.Fabius finally placed the fork down, Coriolanus knew it was time. ''Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Fabius. I must say, I thought a lot about your proposal, and after careful consideration, I have decided to accept it.''

''Good.'' Mrs. Fabius answered instead, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that, Coriolanus. I believe this union will bring great delights to both of us." 

Mr. Fabius seemed not to notice the interruption. ''I think a winter wedding would be absolutely perfect. Everybody seems to be getting married in the spring, but in the winter? Oh, it's definitely going to be a hit. Ah, and here's the lucky bride-to-be!''

She stood beside the just-opened door, her eyes following his expressions. Her hands, adorned just with one small pearl ring, were gently clasped together in front of her. She looked nervous, like a child standing in front of the full class on the first school day. Her dress, a delicate lace creation, clings to her figure like a second skin. 

He smiled at her. YN looked like an antique statue, as if she just stepped out of the ruins of the Panem. Coriolanus wasn't even sure she was breathing—her stillness was so deep. 

''Let's leave the lover birds to chirp,'' Mrs.Fabius said, standing up. She walked towards the couple, her heels clicking against the floor, and extended her hand towards YN. "Congratulations, my dear," she said with a warm smile before leaving, her husband following after her.

''It's time for a ring, isn't it?'' Coriolanus cleared his throat. Everything is to be done appropriately; there is no reason to avoid traditions. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small box. White, of course—who is he, if not a romantic at heart?

''Mr. Snow,'' YN watched him stand up and come closer with the same expression she always bore—a mixture of melancholy and worship. ''Grant me something.''

He paused. Coriolanus didn't like to make promises. He would have to make it clear to her later, after the wedding—the fact that he took her for a bride was enough of a promise. Still, he needed this engagement to work, and he was not about to lose it to a crude lie. With a sigh, he softly replied, "What is it that you desire, Miss YN?"

''Promise me you will be kind to me. All of our marriage, promise to be kind to my heart.''

Coriolanus almost laughed in her face. Oh, what a lovely, clueless fool. "I will do my best to treat you with kindness, Miss YN."

''Good,'' she smiles. ''I think we will make a great couple then, Mister Snow.''

''Coriolanus, my dear. Please call me Coriolanus." 

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was sealed. His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return.

-

Mr.Fabius didn't lie—his daughter was the perfect bride. She never spoke to him unless he did first; she never questioned him. She simply followed his lead, like a well-trained pet. A pretty, lovely YN. She knew what to do, how to dress, and what to say. He searched for one—at least a slight imperfection—and couldn't find one; it was as if she wasn't a human, which, to him, she wasn't.

''What are you going to do today?'' he asks, without bothering to look up from the newspaper. He doesn't wish to hear her answer, but he still asks out of courtesy. Coriolanus knows that her daily routine is made up of attending charity events, dinners with influential figures's wives, and shopping for designer clothes. It's a predictable pattern.

''Well, the trees I ordered came in today; I'll have to chat with the new gardener about them. Are you meeting with anyone important later?" 

''As a matter of fact, I do. Larry Tremblay wants to include me in a business deal he's been working on." 

It's partly true, but she doesn't need to know more. Just a familiar name was usually enough for his wife to hum in satisfaction and assume that he was still climbing the social ladder. Not this time, evidently.

''You shouldn't accept.''

He looked up from his cup, trying to guess if she had gone out of her mind. YN looked like usual, her eyes meeting his without a care in the world. Why today, of all days, she decided to question his decision was beyond him. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. "And why should I decline such a good-looking opportunity?" 

''He beats his wife. Just yesterday, I saw her with bruises. ''

Coriolanus fought hard to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. He knew his wife wasn't the brightest, but this? "Is that so?" 

''Don't you understand what it means? The man only beats his wife for two reasons. If he has always enjoyed those types of things, which Larry did not, or if he loses power and control in other aspects of his life. The business isn't going as well as he wants it to,'' YN lowers her gaze, losing confidence in her voice. ''I thought you would want to know that.''

He would, very much. Her conclusion was the dumbest thing he ever heard, based on some black and blue marks and a twist of her imagination. Still, it was interesting—his wife's head wasn't always empty like he hoped. She thought enough to notice something, and she listened enough to remember his partners. 

''I will keep that in mind,'' he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. What harm could it do to entertain her thoughts? It was even slightly amusing to see her try to piece together a puzzle that didn't exist. 

-

It wasn't so fun anymore when Larry Tremblay was fired exactly two weeks later. Surely, it could be a consequence, but Coriolanus Snow didn't believe in them. There had to be something, anything, to explain his wife's sudden knowledge—she couldn't have acquired it on her own, about that he was sure.

YN looked unfazed by his questioning gaze as she lay on the dark olive-coloured sofa in his office, continuing to play with a snow-white kitten on her stomach. It was his wedding gift, one of many—the pricy creature with a diamond collar. He thought it was rather symbolic—two caged animals who were once considered sacred.

''How did you understand that Tremblay was about to be fired?'' Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with suspicion. It could be that she overheard the woman talk about it, or even that she had some inside information from her connections. What bothered him more was what she could know from the same source about him.

YN paused, her fingers gently stroking the kitten's fur as she met his gaze. "I didn't know that. I simply knew he had trouble at work. Evidently, they were big enough for him to lose his position." 

''Really?'' he chuckled. Maybe she was telling the truth. ''Then, what can you say about my work?''

YN's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your work doesn't matter; how you present yourself does. Can I give you some advice?'

 "Sure.'' Coriolanus bit his tongue, fighting the urge to snap back at her. After all, it is what he married her for—to fit in. He took a deep breath.

''Buy a new car, but not the most expensive one; it will give off an impression of stability, like you know the job isn't going anywhere. Your shoes are always too polished; it's like you wore them right out of the box. And throw away that hideous tie you always wear—you look like a student." 

''Something else?'' Coriolanus mustered a weak smile, trying to hide his frustration. 

''I don't want to offend you, Coriolanus. But I want you to do well. After all, you are my husband now, and your success reflects on both of us. Why not help where I can? You know I love clothes.''

''Good, '' he replied, forcing a more genuine smile. "Now get away from that cat before it scratches you. I'll figure out the rest on my own." 

''Of course you will. You are the smartest man I've ever met.''

-

He was. It was because of his intelligence that YN married him, because of his ambition. Well, that and something else. 

From her earliest childhood, YN knew what she was destined to be. She was the child of late parents, the only child, and a girl; she would inherit everything the generations of her family worked so hard to achieve. And YN was no fool; she needed a man. Driven, proud, and cold-blooded. The one who was not afraid to get his hands dirty while she spent her time leisurely in his shadow. Oh, no—YN never minded her place, much like her mother did. She taught her to bet on the finest horses, and Coriolanus Snow was no exception. 

From the time she saw him in his ridiculously tight shirt in the academy, she knew what she wanted. Him. The top of every class, the charmer with pretty eyes—a catch, really. Her mother said there was darkness inside her dear Coriolanus, but YN knew. That's why she now sits in the opulent living room, waiting for him to get home. Mr. Snow was a horrific, ruthless man. But he was still, at his core, a man. 

And men never listen. That's how she got him and got him good—a silent, fawn-eyed creature that he thought he could control. An obedient wife and a lovely lap dog. It was funny to see his gaze twitch slightly when she said something she wasn't supposed to—how long would it take him to figure it out? 

It's time—his tall figure appeared in the corridor leading to the living room. YN watches silently as he takes off his shoes and coat, placing them on the rack by the door. Home at seven p.m. sharp, just like any other day. Just like any other day, dinner is at the table. 

He never said thank you. Instead, her closet grew bigger with countless dresses, bags, and shoes—sometimes even brand-new jewellery. YN didn't mind it; she loved it—the jealous whispers of other women at the events about how lucky she was. She didn't have to sleep with a big, fat old man to get the latest fur coat or the most exquisite diamond necklace.

At least a few times a month now, Coriolanus would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. This night was one of those: YN woke up from the constant turning and tossing in the bed. She doesn't know how he didn't figure out why; it was easy to guess his food contained something to make his sleep far worse—YN made sure of that. Maybe he just didn't have the heart to admit his weaknesses, even to himself.

''Hey,'' she whispered, getting out of the warm covers. YN tiptoed over to Coriolanus' side of the bed, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. ''Hey, wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him awake. 

Coriolanus jolted upright, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped for breath. He wasn't; of course, he wasn't. Yn would have lied if she said she didn't find it hot to see him like this—sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest heaving. 

''You were having a nightmare again.''

He looked at her with the eyes of a lunatic, still not over his dream. ''What did I say this time?"

''You were mumbling something about birds and songs, I think? It didn't make much sense." 

He doesn't recall that she mentored the 10th game too. Without much success, of course, but one thing she did remember was a girl from District 12 who liked to sing. Coriolanus remembered her too; it was evident from the fear that crossed his eyes.

''Excuse me,'' he said, his voice still shaky. ''I need a moment.''

YN watched as he stumbled towards the bathroom, his hands twitching. As much as her husband wanted to hide those parts of himself, he couldn't. Not from her. 

There was nothing else to do but wait. YN climbed on the bed, turning her back to the bathroom door. Coriolanus would only come out when he thought she had fallen asleep. She learned to control her breath when she was just a little girl; it saved her life once, when a rebel pointed a gun at her small frame, meaning to shoot. He didn't—what use was it to waste a bullet on a non-breathing child?

Surely, after some time, the blonde man stepped out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, he listened to her steady breathing before sliding under the covers and pressing his body against hers, his large hand covering her shoulders. Coriolanus wasn't gentle; YN wasn't sure he knew what the word meant anyway, but he was careful. His arm around her chest wasn't tight—just enough for him to bring her closer.

As much as YN wanted to turn around and face him, she didn't. There was no point—like any other human, he hated the feeling of vulnerability. Instead, YN focused on the warmth of his body. Coriolanus Snow was a god more than a human, and real gods were never kind. The only currency they recognized was blood.

-

The annual party for the victor of this year's games. The first year Coriolanus Snow worked as a head gamemaker, his creation was a bloodbath, a spectacle of violence and despair. He did a good job—an excellent one, even—and one of the greatest stars of today's celebration was him.

They needed to dress the part in clothes that exuded power. And so they did. Coriolanus's suit was ample—purple velvet with gold embroidery—the colour of Roman emperors. The colour of the winners. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, suiting his white hair. Gold cufflinks, gold rings—he looked like a sovereign among men. It was risky to do so right in front of the current president, but who was Coriolanus Snow if he was not confident in his success? 

YN wore the gown from the matching collection, a floor-length masterpiece. The deep purple colour was a stark contrast to her skin tone. And jewellery, of course—she came from the Fabius family for a reason. The lavender diamonds on her necklace and earrings. They were rare—the rarest—even. Only a few violet diamonds have been mined in the past seventy years.

It was all anyone talked about behind their backs. Whispers, rumours, and so much venom dripped from the mouths of Panem's elite—that's what they were hoping for, anyway. The Snows were just as shamelessly rich as they were powerful. 

That's why they now sat at the President's table, just a few faces away from them. Coriolanus smiled to himself - not even the President's wife could compare to YN. Not in fashion, not in elegance. He had an impeccable taste - even a person far away from politics could see that.

''A toast!'' the President stood up with a glass in his hand, turning to face the Coriolanus. ''I am sure many of you know who was the mastermind behind the games this year - it's my pleasure to introduce Coriolanus Snow to those of you who don't. However, not many know his story of success. From a dirt-poor background, when his greatest possession was his family name, he worked hard to achieve the position he holds today. Let us raise our glasses and celebrate his remarkable journey to success and the country of Panem - the land of opportunity!''

YN cursed under her breath as she listened to the crowd cheer for her husband. He remained stoic - the only thing that gave away his fury was his eyes - they grew as dark as the sky outside. She didn't bother to calm him - this fire was impossible to put out. The President made a fatal mistake with his speech - she knows. But the true fear crept into her heart when she saw the President's wife pass Coriolanus the dish. 

Cabbage.

Under a fancy sauce, it could be transformed into a delicacy fit for their circle. But tonight, it was his last straw. The colours changed on the face of Coriolanus, from white to all shades of red. His fists clenched, and veins pulsed on his temples. The room fell silent as they observed.

''Oh, I am so sorry,'' YN chipped in. Quick, something. ''I have a terrible allergy to cabbage.'' 

The President's wife looked concerned. ''Oh, I didn't know.''

YN made her eyes water, throwing a coughing feat for more dramatic effect. ''I think I need to step outside for some fresh air." 

She felt a warm hand on her back. ''Let me accompany you, just to make sure you're alright." her husband announced, carefully leading her towards the exit. 

-

The first thing he did when they reached the women's bathroom was break the mirrors in a fit of anger. Shards of glass scattered across the floor as he paced around the room like a caged animal. YN watched as shouted and hit the walls, sitting on the bathroom floor. Beautiful one - the tile was a lovely shade of pink, contrasting with the chaos unfolding before her. 

After a good few minutes, he finally calmed down and sank to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands. Her husband, her hauntingly beautiful, pathetic husband - oh, what a sight. He looked mad, maniac, even; his blonde hair was far from its usual perfectly styled form, falling on his tear-stained cheeks.

"What do you think of me?"

His voice is hoarse, a few notes down from a honey-like. She likes it better, YN thinks - nothing of the fasçade he was trying so hard to uphold. No, just a raw hunger with a mix of equally raw despair.

"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."

She smiles, watching his expression change. He suspected it, of course - her husband was a smart man. Still, he can't believe it - his head twitches in her direction, his gorgeous bottomless eyes shining under the weak light of the only surviving floor lamp.

"What?" he asks with such a loss in his voice YN has to fight the urge to bring him close. Not now, she thinks. It's not the time. 

"A hungry, desperate, sick, sick animal with nothing to lose."

Coriolanus gets closer abruptly, clearly angered - she can't let him leave now. His arm shouts to find its place on her neck, long, slim fingers forming a circle around her throat. "You think I am after money, don't you?"

"No, no," a yelp escapes her lips, bordering a hysterical laugh. "Only fools are after money, Coriolanus, and you are no fool."

YN watches as he loses his grip a little, calmed by her words. What a pitiful, fascinating creature was her husband - one word of reassurance and he is willing to let thousands of cursings slide.

"What is it, then? What did you fantasize about in your small dull head?"

He still doesn't believe her. YN is surprised at how quickly it becomes boring. 

"You want power."

Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.

"That's why you choose the fear. People forget the hand that feeds them, but the one who beats? Never."

The frown on his face falls a little, and through the gritted teeth escapes something like a curse. "You talk an awful lot about me," he notes. "What are you hungry for?"

"You."

He laughs. That was a deep, chest laugh - YN thinks she never heard him laugh so sincerely. "You want my love? Don't lie to me, YN," he taunts, pressing a little harder on her neck.

"Not love. Love is easily swayed, is it not? No, I want you."

Coriolanus looks at her as if he never done so before. Well, he looked thousands of times, but he didn't see. His eyes study every expression in hers, every part of her face. "A hungry dog is not a loyal dog," he finally masters.

There is a certain silence after his words. YN gulps, desperatly trying to help her dried throat - the blood from his hands ran down her neck onto her exposed chest, leaving sticky, dark trails behind.

"Feed me, then."

He kisses her. He puts a force behind it, watching her hands fall on his chest for some kind of support. Coriolanus kisses her until there is no air in YN's chest anymore, and she has to push him away to take a rushed breath. 

They were going to be just fine.

After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.

[cupidkyu]

can you repost the top Kinich hcs PLEASE

DOM TOP KINICH HCS

— gn!reader, brat taming implied,mean kinich,org4sm denial(?), degradation, overstim.

ts took so long 2 answer but yes,idk why it keeps taking down my posts but here ya go!!!

kinich definitely degrades you in an indifferent tone, making you feel inferior compared to him, looking down at you with a boring gaze as he fucked into you m1ssionary.

and enjoys tying your hands together! he likes watching you squirm and struggle against the rope bounding both your wrists together while he acts all gentle with you,yet his tip presses so firmly against that spot,youre whimpering and wailing for him to go faster,he'll give it to you, don't worry. but just stay as a good little toy for him, okay?

“you're so annoying.” he'd sigh, thrusting so deliberately slowly,his eyes never laying off of you,his nails digging into your neck as your hips buck up against him so desperately,your mewls only turning him more each time,“please- I-.. ngh~ kinich- I'm sorry-” you'd apologize pathetically,so pathetically. “for what? for acting like a lil' bitch? or sorry for not being able to satisfy me?” he spat coldly, punctuating his words with a harsh slam this time, letting out a quiet groan as a squeal escaped from you. of course,he didn't mean what he said. he just loves watching you protest,he just loves your little 'i can,i promise!'s. can you blame him?

kinich loves watching you beg for release,you wanna squirt,you wanna spill,just for him. but he never lets you,at least not so fast. he likes watching tears drip down your eyes,your bottom lip shaky as you try your best to speak and plead for him to allow you to come. he'll fuck into you so roughly,but warning you that if you ej4culate without his permission, he'll punish you!

sure,he's a little mean when hes wrecking you senseless,but he still tries his best to show you he doesn't mean to harm you in any way! you are his darling lover after all. however,it doesn't mean he'll pass up on the offer of watching his pet crying and sobbing to release!!!

you were throbbing from both pain and pleasure,your eyes rolling back as you moan repeatedly. “c-..come- please- I wanna- hnf~..! wanna come-! please- I-” you'd stumble between your words as he kept pushing himself inside you, cocking his head to the side as he speaks,“no, I've already told you. you're not going to, unless I'm close.” you nod weakly,not wanting to upset your lover. he rubbed your waist softly to remind you that he loves you a lot,hiccups escaping your throat as you took his cock<3 but you couldn't help but immediately fold when he pushes a little bit to deep and rough inside you, causing you to shiver and cream, earning a disapproving look from him.

kinich bends you over the bed, changing the position a little. his finger twirls a strand of your hair as you cry from the harsh,messy treatment you're receiving from him. your eyes twitching uncontrollably when he keeps rubbing that one spot. your thighs covered in light red from how harsh he was spanking them.

he keeps your head down with one of his hands as he wrecks your hole, squeezing and clenching around him as your legs tremble from the nth or4gsm. globs of tears staining the bedsheets as he keeps you pinned down.

oh how pretty you looked when hes fucking you like there's no tomorrow, finally letting you come but with a catch,he makes you spill over and over! your hair is tugged,yanked,used as a handle for him to use,your neck covered in bruises and bites. you were filled,so full, completely full. you could feel his cock over and over again while you're full of his sem4n. “does it feel good,hm?” he'd ask, already knowing the answer,his free hand tracing your back,“y-..yesh! feels so- goood~..! s-soo good~” you'd blabber. you could suddenly feel his palm against your reddened thigh,you shrieked so adorably, earning a chuckle from him as he practically splits you in half. he shoved your face down against the bedsheets,your now whines muffled as he continues to ram himself inside you,how long will this last? who knows! but you just feel so much at once while hes tearing you apart,maybe he should focus on making his beloved come over and over again!>_<

@cupidkyu

[etfrin]

please, please, please • art donaldson

nsfw: breeding kink, body worship, pinv sex, fingering, fem! reader, insecure! reader, soft sex, creampie | lmk if I forgot anything!

What if Tashi came back?

This was a question that always haunted you.

She left you alone with Art and went away with Patrick. But the distance didn't seem enough. You feel like you're under her shadow even though she's not present in either of your lives anymore.

But you couldn't tell Art this. Your deepest insecurities. Your biggest fear is his first love.

How pathetic is that?

But tonight the fear won over.

Art was peacefully sleeping beside you. Your head was on his chest, and you felt the thump, thump, thump, of his heartbeat. You swallow, and whisper, “Art.”

He doesn't stir awake. You frown, hating that you have to be louder. Hating that you're so down on your self-esteem you need him to help you back up. You can't feel better otherwise and you don't want to fall into this black hole.

“Art!”

Art flinches awake.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, frantically looking around the dark room. His gaze lands on you. You shake your head.

“I wasn't feeling good,” you murmur.

“Are you feeling sick, love?”

You shake your head. You see Art furrowing his eyebrows in concern. “Then? What is it, love?”

“What if she comes back, Art?”

“Who?”

“Tashi.”

“Babe.”

You look into his eyes as you hear his soft voice ringing in your ears. It was filled with gentle, cautious love. It held the fact that whatever Art would say next would be the truth.

“The only one I want is you,” He whispered.

Art pressed his lips to your cheek before his lips traveled further down to your neck with each kiss. “The only one I love is you.”

He begins to gently suck the salty, pristine skin trying to leave a mark for tomorrow. You gasp, turning your head to give him better access. His hand gets under your t-shirt. A shiver passes down your spine as you feel the heat of his palm on your cold skin. He lifts your bra, freeing your left breast. He kneads the flesh with care, along with marking your neck with several, dark red love bites.

He pulls back, breathing hard. You look at him, his chest rising up and down. The blinders of windows weren't pulled so the moonlight was rushing through the room. It shined on Art. His pupils were wide, his lips parted as he took in air.

He pulls his t-shirt over his head. He threw it aside. “Sit up, love,” he said. You listen to him. He begins to undress you, first your t-shirt and then your bra. He feasts his eyes, blessing himself with your beauty.

“The one I need is you.”

You wrapped your arms around Art, giving him a messy kiss. Your tongue meets with his, and you moan into his mouth. The kiss is vulgar with the way you suck his tongue, taking in his taste as much as possible. You get on his lap, your panty-clad pussy pressing against his clothed hard cock.

It's crude, the kiss, saliva drips down your lips and falls onto his skin. Neither of you breaks the kiss, no matter how much of a mess it is creating for both of you. You begin to impatiently grind your soaking wet cunt against his cock. He groans your name into your lips. You grin, pushing him to the mattress.

His hands begin to fondle both of your breasts, his fingers twisting your nipples. He sits back up again, sucking onto your left nipple as he continues to tease your right one. He licks the patch of skin between your breasts, reaching your collarbone. His teeth sink into your flesh causing you to whimper his name.

Art hums as he begins to press kisses to your neck and finds your lips. Your kisses with him begin to become longer, your tongue tangled with his as your hands are on his shoulder. His hands travel down to your ass, cupping the bottom. He slips you off of your panties.

He pressed his palm in between the heat of your thighs. You let out a whine as you begin to grind your pussy against his hand, coating him with your juices. Your hand pulls at his hair as your hips get faster. You cry out when his fingers push into your walls. His digits press against your wall, again and again trying to find that one spot.

His fingers get faster, desperate. His digits go inside of you deeper than before, reaching the second knuckle. He was making you feel so full and you tell him so. Art chuckles in return. Then, suddenly, stars swim in your vision as your walls begin to squeeze his fingers.

“There it is,” Art grins.

Your walls clamp down on his digits. He smirks as he feels the living pulse of your sweet cunt. So desperate, so ready to cum over his fingers. Too bad he wanted it to be on his cock. He pulls out his fingers, they were shining from your arousal. You take his digits inside your mouth, closing your eyes as your tongue begins to lick up your taste from him.

He enjoys the show.

After it's over, he gently lays you down on the bed.

“I am gonna take you, okay?”

He waits for a yes.

You nod, and Art beautifully smiles at you. He gives you a peck on the forehead before he climbs on top of you. His boxers are around his knees, setting his leaking, hard cock free.

He lets out a gasp as he sinks inside of your wet, tight cunt. Your walls stretch as you take his length inside of you. You feel the twitch of his cock, you feel his pre-cum painting your walls. You whine, “Art, Art- move!”

He obliged. He does so with slow, deep strokes. Every thrust of his hips takes his cock out completely until only the head is in then he pushes it all back in again reaching your deepest spots. Each time he fucked into your pussy, he did it by savouring each second of it. He didn't take your sweet, tight cunt for granted. He doesn't take you for granted.

He gasps your name. One of his hands was holding both of your wrists on top of your head, pinned on the mattress. He had a match tomorrow, he knew if he let go, you'd mark his back. He can't have the marks right now. Maybe over the weekend, he'll let you do it as much as you want. His forehead is pressed against yours. Each time he sinks back in, he presses a kiss to your lips again and again.

You could feel the heat bottoming on your stomach. You were so close. You open your lips, welcoming Art's skilful tongue inside. He swipes around your tongue, taking his time as he speeds up just a bit. He could feel your pussy pulsating around him. He knew the telltale signs of you cumming. The hitch of your breath, the scent of your sweat, the sweetness of your lips. All of these were bringing Art closer to the edge too.

You begin to whine, “Ar- Art I am close. Baby- so close-” He hushes you. “I know, babe. Let go. I am here.”

You cry out his name as white flashes in your vision. You let go, your pussy spasming against his cock. Milking him for all his worth. Art gasps out your name as he thrusts into you. He gets sloppy and desperate. He wants to cum in you so bad. He had the sudden urge to knock you up. Make you a mama. That would be so good. It was a brilliant idea in his head. Instead of pulling out and coming onto your stomach. He stays, he stays and continues to fuck into your cunt. He whimpers as his cock begins to paint your walls white with his seed without any warning.

He doesn't stop. Art fucks you full of his cum.

Maybe making you a mom will help you stop worrying.

[rosemaryjmoriarty]

"I'm not obsessed with this character anymore, therefore I don't like them as I used to"

No.

The reason you're not obsessed anymore is because your obsession has turned into something's more strong; love. They're not 24/7 in your mind, because they'll be forever in your heart.

You'll be obsessed with many characters, yes, some obsessions will fade, but those whom you really adore will always be with you.

So stop being so anxious, okay? Here's some cake :)

[crookedgalaxycandy]

I swear "x reader" fanfic writers save lives. You feel lonely and touch starved? Get some cuddle content! Everything kinda sucks right now? This character want nothing more than to comfort you! And they do requests, FOR FREE?! They are some of the most creative creators I've seen. I always feel better reading yalls content. Makes me feel less alone. And for the people who are like "that's so cringe," you know what's more cringe? Criticising people having harmless fun.

"x reader" author appreciation!

[totorolaughs]

Aliens & Ghosts | Takakura "Okarun" Ken x Reader

content: a/v f!ngering, gender neutral reader, under!age, s!xual content, no pronouns for reader, Okarun is shy(?), crushes, friends to lovers, a/v s!x REQUEST: OPEN | CLOSED

note: my tumblr isn't working, for some odd reason me coping and pasting isn't working if Im able to fix it I'll fix this post and put the whole story here instead of linking it ( AO3 )

[aventurineswife]

hello fr e!!!! :DD I HOPE EVERYTHING IS DOING OKAY FOR YOU AND HAVE A NICE DAY/NIGHTN!!!!!!¡!

may I request platonic dr ratio, argenti, boothill, + whoever ya wanna add (all seperately) who got inverted (like turned into the opposite of themselves; inverted color palette & personality typa thing?) after a battle or some sorts; and then reader has to deal with their shenanigans until said characters turn back to their original selves hehahehehele :3

(ngl this feels like this is my first time sending a request to somebody I'm nervous ........)

A World Turned Upside Down

Tags: Ratio x Reader, Argenti x Reader, Boothill x Reader, Inverted Character Dynamics, Platonic Relationship, Humor, Comedic Undertones.

Warnings: Mild frustration from the reader’s perspective, Excessive self-absorption and overconfidence (from inverted characters), Lighthearted but persistent antics from the inverted characters, Mild swearing.

A/N: ngl I have been there 🫠😭🙏, but you're cool!

Dr. Ratio, or as you currently know him—Inverted Ratio—was sprawled out on the floor of the library, cradling a fluffy cat he had somehow acquired during the chaos of his transformation. His once confident, commanding demeanor had been replaced with a relaxed, daydreamy attitude. Where there was once sharp intellect, there now existed an almost whimsical detachment. His violet waves had turned to a soft, sandy blond, and his piercing reddish pink eyes were now a tranquil, oceanic blue.

"I think," he mused, holding the cat above his head, "this creature might know the secret to happiness." His voice was soft, almost sing-songy. "What do you think, little one? Should we forget the universe's problems and nap forever?"

You sighed, rubbing your temple as you leaned against a nearby desk. This had been going on for hours. After a mysterious artifact he had insisted on examining blasted him with some kind of energy, Ratio's sharp, relentless personality had flipped entirely. No longer interested in solving the mysteries of the universe, he had become obsessed with taking life at a snail’s pace.

"Dr. Ratio—" you began.

"Veritas," he corrected you lazily. "Or just call me… Sunshine. Doesn't that feel lighter?"

"Okay, Sunshine," you said dryly, crossing your arms. "Can you stop petting the cat for five minutes so we can figure out how to get you back to normal?"

"But why?" he asked, sitting up and tilting his head with an absentminded grin. His golden armor shimmered under the library lights, reflecting the strange new hues of his personality. "Normal is boring, don't you think? Being like this is so much… fun. Besides, who says knowledge can't wait?"

You groaned. The man who once obsessed over eradicating ignorance had decided ignorance was bliss. It was up to you to find a solution, but in the meantime, you had to babysit this inverted version of Ratio—and prevent him from sneaking off to nap in the gardens.

Argenti, the epitome of chivalry and nobility, was now pacing around the courtyard in his inverted form. His aquamarine hair caught the sunlight, cascading down his back like a flowing waterfall, but his usual calm determination had been replaced with an air of smug self-indulgence. He admired his reflection in every shiny surface he passed, spinning the blue rose box he now carried with a flourish.

"Ah, [Name]," he greeted you with a bright, self-satisfied smile, "what a pleasure it must be to bask in my presence today." He struck a dramatic pose, his silver armor catching the light as though he were performing on stage. "The embodiment of beauty has arrived!"

You blinked at him, torn between frustration and amusement. "Argenti, what are you doing?"

"Merely gifting the world a glimpse of perfection," he said, holding up the box of roses. "Do you think I should present these to myself? Surely, no one is as deserving."

This was definitely not the stoic knight you knew. Gone was his humble dedication to beauty and righteousness; instead, this inverted Argenti was a self-absorbed drama queen. He twirled around, inspecting his armor.

"You know, [Name], I’ve been thinking… perhaps I should stop fighting monsters entirely. Why sully my hands with such crude endeavors when I could be hosting galas or composing sonnets?"

You groaned, grabbing his arm and dragging him away from the fountain where he’d been admiring himself. "Listen, Your Majesty, you need to snap out of it. Remember the oath you took as a knight of Beauty? Or has that all gone out the window?"

"Oh, relax," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I’m still all about beauty—my beauty. Shall we find a mirror next?"

You were going to need a miracle to handle this version of him until he returned to normal.

Boothill—now with flowing blond hair and bright teal accents in his outfit—leaned casually against the side of his ship, a grin plastered across his face. His once menacing demeanor had transformed into a confident, overly-charming attitude that made your life much harder. The inverted color palette didn’t make him any less intimidating, but the cocky way he winked at you now somehow felt worse.

"Hey there, partner," he drawled, flipping his blond hair out of his face with a dramatic flourish. His sharp teeth flashed in a smirk, and his now-light-colored eyes glinted mischievously. "Y’know, revenge is overrated. I’ve been thinkin’—maybe I should just settle down, open a saloon or somethin'. What d’you think?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, hands on your hips. "Boothill, are you serious? Yesterday, you were storming IPC warehouses, and now you want to run a saloon?"

"Well, yeah," he said with a shrug, tipping his hat back. "Seems like a nice, easy life, don’t it? Plus, it’d give me more time to charm folks like you." He winked again, and you groaned audibly.

This version of Boothill had no interest in his revenge quest, no fire for justice—just an insufferable level of swagger and a bizarre fascination with himself. He pulled his scarf tighter around his neck, the teal detailing standing out starkly against his golden mechanical torso.

"Don’t look so grumpy, [Name]. You’re stuck with me, so you might as well enjoy the show."

You crossed your arms. "Listen, Blondie, if you don’t help me figure out how to fix this, I’m leaving you in this state."

He laughed, leaning in closer. "Oh, darlin', I don’t think you’d survive without me. Who else would make your life this exciting?"

You were going to need a lot of patience to deal with this inverted cowboy until you could figure out how to turn him back to normal.

[moonlightplaylist]

MARK GRAYSON CRUSH & DATING HEADCANONS

CRUSH

when he first saw you in the hallway at school, you caught his eye

he was just talking to William and when you passed by him, all his attention on William shifted to you

he couldn’t help it, you were just so mesmerizing

he didn’t fall in love with you immediately since he didn’t really knew what you were like yet

when he did get the chance to though, thats when he was head over heels for you

the more he spends time with you, the more he realizes how his heart beats faster whenever you’re around

whenever you talk to him, he often stutters and mixes up his words

it’s embarrassing for him, but its cute

whenever you tease him, his face just turns red and he tries to tease you back

Mark would mention you a lot to his parents

the first time you came over to help him study, his mom, Debbie asked “Mark, isn’t this the person you often talk about at dinner?”

Mark just stood there, red as a tomato and immediately denied

DATING

eventually he asked you out and you said yes

ever since he got his powers and became Invincible, he would often come late to dates

he would always come up to you, panting while his hand was holding flowers for you or a small gift

he would remember little things about you and try his best to make sure the gift he gives you is something you would like

you heard him apologize a dozen times already about how late he was

of course, you had no idea at the time about his powers and everything so you just assumed he’s being rude on purpose

this led to many fights

you both were able to work it out each time though by communication

when Mark finally told you he’s Invincible after another argument about him being late, you stood there thinking he’s probably making another excuse

“You don’t believe me? Fine.”

Mark then proceeds to float up in the air, his feet were off the ground

that’s when it hit you and made you realize why he was late all of the time

he wasn’t lying, he IS Invincible

ever since that day, your relationship with Mark was stronger than ever

you often had to make excuses for him, but you didn’t really mind (it can get annoying after multiple times)

he would often call you petnames — babe, baby

he would definitely love to cuddle with you and sleep beside you

Mark loves to admire you and think about how lucky he is to have you

[boxxing-flavored]

I keep seeing Sevika with glasses

So here this

• Denial Is a River in Zaun, Sevika is 1000% convinced her eyes are fine. “I don’t need glasses, you’re just blurry,” she says while squinting directly at your forehead instead of your eyes.

• Hot Girl Nearsightedness, She tries to play it off like she’s intimidating when she’s really just trying to figure out if she’s glaring at Silco or a lamp. You once caught her threatening a coat rack.

• You teasingly call her “Granny Vika” every time she squints or holds something at arm’s length. She grumbles and grabs your ass in retaliation. “Still strong enough to put you over my knee, sweetheart.”

• She Hates the Exam, You finally drag her to an eye exam. She tries to flirt her way out of it. until you sit in her lap and whisper, “If you behave, I’ll let you keep them on while you wreck me later.”

• First Time With Glasses, She puts them on and blinks a few times. “Shit… is that what you look like?” now she won’t stop staring at you like you’re the Mona Lisa with thighs.

• She only wears them around the house, mostly shirtless, reading a book while lounging on the couch. “Ma’am… you can’t just look like someone’s sexy literature professor and expect me to focus.” You tell her. She adjusts glasses slowly “Then don’t.”

• You once walked in on her wearing her glasses, hair messy, tank top half-riding up, reading and you just melted.

• Glasses Stay On, First time you kissed her while she was wearing them, you fogged them up so bad she had to take them off. Now she keeps lens wipes by the bed. She calls it “battle prep.”

• Ultimate Weakness, You grab her glasses and wear nothing else. She stops whatever she’s doing—mid-sentence, mid-sip, mid-growl—and just stares. “…Goddamn. Come here. I can’t even be mad.”

[insidekatmind]

Magic~Kai Parker

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

Night has fallen over Mystic Falls like a veil of shadows and mystery, and you tighten your jacket around your shoulders as you walk through the woods. The air is thick with magic, an electric energy that glides over your skin like a dangerous promise. You know he’s back. You feel it in your bones, in the tension of the group as you work together to bring Bonnie back.

Kai Parker. The name is a poison on your tongue, a whisper that turns your blood cold. He’s been trapped in his own personal hell, punished for the atrocities he’s committed, and now he walks among the living once again. You’ve tried to brace yourself for his return, but nothing can truly dull the effect he has on you when your eyes meet his.

He’s waiting for you. Leaning casually against a tree, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket,the smile dancing on his lips is that of a predator.

“You really are the witch of the group,” he says with an amused tone, tilting his head as he looks you up and down. “I thought you were more… boring.”

You stifle a sigh, your eyes blazing with defiance. “And I thought you’d stay in hell.”

Kai laughs, a deep, sharp sound. “I was bored. And apparently, someone decided to tear me away from that cozy little place.” He steps forward, and the air around you thickens, filled with the magic he stole from the Travelers. “Now, tell me… how do you plan on getting Bonnie back? I guess you don’t want me around?”

Your jaw tightens. He knows you need him, that his power is the only key to unlocking the gap between you and Bonnie. And he hates you for it. Or maybe it’s something else burning in his pale eyes as he looks at you, an interest too dangerous to ignore.

“We need your magic,” you admit through gritted teeth. “But we don’t trust you.”

Kai holds up his hands in surrender. “And I’m supposed to trust you? You make me look like the bad guy.”

“Because you are.”

A flash of amusement crosses his gaze, and in an instant, he moves faster than you can react. Before you can defend yourself, his face is inches from yours, and his fingers are touching your wrist, a light touch but filled with power. Your heart races, not just from the tension of the situation, but from something darker stirring deep inside.

“There’s something about you…” Kai murmurs, his gaze sliding from your face to your lips. “You’re different from other witches. Maybe that’s why I like you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. It’s not a confession of love, not with that arrogant tone and that cheeky smile. And yet, you feel the heat of his magic creeping through your body, a tempting and forbidden call.

“Kai, stop.” Your voice is firm, but he doesn’t move.

“Are you sure?” His hand rises and a wave of energy envelops you, an echo of the magic he’s absorbed. “I can feel you. The way your magic reacts to mine. It’s electrifying, isn’t it?”

Gritting your teeth, you walk away with a determined stride. “Help us bring Bonnie back, and then you’ll be a problem that needs to be eliminated again.”

Kai smiles again, but this time there’s something sharper in his gaze. Something that warns you that this isn’t the end, but only the beginning of a dangerous game between the two of you.

And as you watch him, heart pounding in your chest, you realize that the real problem isn’t just him… but what you start to feel when he looks at you like that.

And that's how you ended up in your room with him while you were fucking. Kai was meanwhile transferring the magic he had stolen from the other witches to you. Kai's hands roam over your body, his touch leaving trails of fire in their wake. His lips capture yours in a bruising kiss as he presses you against the wall, his hips grinding against yours. You can feel the magic pulsing between you, a tangible force that makes your skin tingle and your blood rush.

"Let me in," Kai murmurs against your lips, his voice a husky command. "Let me give you everything."

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he lifts you up. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, and you can feel the hard length of him pressing against your core. A shudder runs through you, desire and fear warring within you.

"You're playing with fire," you warn, but your voice lacks conviction. The magic is too intoxicating, the pull too strong.

Kai smirks, his eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. "I'm the fire, sweetheart.

You moaned holding on to him as you felt his cock inside you and felt the magic he was transferring to you. Kai's thrusts are deep and powerful, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You can feel the magic coursing through your veins, filling you up and making you feel invincible. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent marks on his skin as you hold on for dear life.

"Fuck," Kai groans, his forehead resting against yours. "You feel incredible."

His hips snap forward, hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes your toes curl. You cry out, your back arching off the wall. The magic intensifies, pulsing in time with your heartbeats. It's overwhelming, consuming, and you're not sure where Kai ends and you begin.

"More,"you gasp, your body trembling with need. Kai's lips find yours in a possessive kiss, his tongue tangling with yours. He moves with a rough grace, as if your body is an instrument he knows how to play perfectly. His hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulls you closer, his thrusts growing more urgent.

"You're mine," he growls, his eyes locked with yours. "Every inch of you."

You melt beneath his gaze, your mind clouded with desire. You know in this moment that you're powerless to resist him, your magic surging.

You feel the magic building inside you, a pressure that threatens to consume you. Kai's thrusts grow more frenzied, his breathing ragged as he chases his own release. You can sense the power within him, the stolen magic that he's pouring into you, filling you up until you're overflowing.

"Yes," you hiss, your head falling back against the wall. "Give it to me. All of it."

Kai's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers leaving bruises on your skin. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth sinking into your flesh as he comes with a shuddering groan. The magic explodes within you, a burst of light and energy that leaves you gasping for breath.

You collapse against him, your body spent and trembling, as the magic begins to fade. You feel dizzy, overwhelmed by what just happened, by the intense connection between the two of you. Kai's arms wrap around you, his touch surprisingly gentle, his breath warm on your skin.

"That was... intense," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck. "You're something else, you know that?"

You look up at Kai, your eyes searching his. There's a vulnerability in his gaze that you've never seen before, a softness that belies his usual arrogance. You're tempted to lean into his touch, to let yourself believe that there's something more between you than just magic and lust.

But the rational part of your brain screams at you to be careful. Kai Parker is a sociopath. Getting involved with him would be a mistake.

And yet, as he holds you close, his magic still pulsing gently through your veins, you can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there's a part of him that's worth saving. Or maybe you're just fooling yourself, drawn in by the allure of the forbidden.

"Kai..." you start, but he silences you with a finger to your lips.

"Shh" he whispers.Kai's finger traces your lips, his touch featherlight. "Don't overthink it," he murmurs, his gaze intense. "Just for tonight, let's not think about the past or the future. Let's just be here, in this moment."

His other hand slides up your back, his fingers tangling in your hair. He tilts your head back, exposing your neck, and leans in to press a soft kiss to your pulse point. "Stay with me," he whispers against your skin. "Let me take care of you."

You shiver, your body responding to his touch despite your reservations. There's a part of you that wants to give in, to let go of all the doubts and fears and just lose yourself in him. But you know that doing so would be dangerous, not just for your heart, but for your soul.

"I can't," you say softly, placing a hand on his chest. "We can't. You know why."

Kai's eyes flash with something dark and intense. "Because of what I am?"

Kai's grip on your hair tightens slightly, his voice dropping to a low growl. "Is that what scares you? The fact that I'm not like other men?"

His other hand slides down to your hip, his fingers digging in possessively. "You think I don't know what I am? What I've done?" He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "But you're not afraid of me, are you? You're afraid of how I make you feel. Of the fact that when I touch you, you forget about everything else."

He pulls back slightly, his eyes boring into yours. "Admit it. You want me. Just as much as I want you."

You swallow hard, your heart racing in your chest. Kai's words hit too close to home, exposing the truth that you've been trying to deny. He's right. You are afraid. Afraid of the intensity of your feelings, of the way he makes you question everything you thought you knew about right and wrong.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "I'm afraid. Because I do want you. And it terrifies me."

Kai's expression softens, a rare vulnerability flashing in his eyes. "I know," he murmurs, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. "I'm afraid too. Afraid of what I might do if I let myself have you completely."

The admission hangs heavy between you, the vulnerability of the moment taking you both by surprise. There's a crack in Kai's armor that you've never seen before, a glimmer of sincerity that makes your heart ache. He takes a step back from you, running a hand through his hair as he tries to regain his composure.

"This changes nothing," he says at last, his voice gruff. "I'm still a monster."

You meet his gaze, a mixture of defiance and compassion in your eyes. "And yet, I still want you. Despite everything."

Kai stares at you, his expression a mix of disbelief and something that looks almost like hope. "You're insane," he says, but there's no heat behind the words. "Do you have any idea what you're saying?"

You step forward, closing the distance between you once again. "I'm saying that I see you," you whisper, your hand reaching out to cover his heart. "Not just the monster everyone else sees. But the man underneath. The man who's capable of feeling, of caring."

Kai's hand comes up to cover yours, his grip tight. "You're playing a dangerous game," he warns, but his voice is trembling slightly. "If you keep looking at me like that, I won't be able to stop myself from kissing you."

"So don't stop," you challenge, your eyes locked with his.

Kai's control snaps, and he crashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. His arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against his body as he pours all of his frustration, his desire, his fear into the kiss. You melt into him, your hands gripping his shirt as you kiss him back with equal fervor.

He walks you backwards until you're pressed against the wall, his hips pinning you in place. His hands roam over your body, touching you like he's trying to memorize every inch of you. You can feel the hard length of him pressing against your stomach, and you arch into him, desperate for more.

Kai breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Kai's head falls back with a thud as your lips wrap around his hard length. His fingers tangle in your hair, gripping tightly as you take him deeper. You can feel him pulsing against your tongue, his breathing growing more ragged with each passing second.

"That's it," he groans, his hips thrusting forward slightly. "Fuck, you look so good with your mouth on my cock."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you double your efforts, sucking and licking with a fervor that surprises even yourself. You want to drive him wild, to make him forget about everything except the pleasure you're giving him.

Kai's grip on your hair tightens, and he starts to thrust into your mouth, his movements growing more urgent.

“Damnit,” Kai grunts, his head falling back against the wall. “If you keep doing that…I won’t be able to hold back.”

There is a dangerous edge to his voice, a warning that he's close to losing control. You feel the power and the heat of his magic coursing through you, making you feel alive and vulnerable all at once.

You pull back, your lips swollen and your eyes dark with desire. "Then don't hold back," you challenge, your voice husky. "Show me what you're really capable of."

Kai's eyes flash with a primal hunger, and in an instant, he's lifting you up and spinning you around. He bends you over the nearby table, his hand pressing firmly on your back. You can feel the cool wood against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating off his body.

"I warned you," he growls, his hand sliding up your thigh to grip your hip. "You asked for this."

With a swift motion, he enters you from behind, filling you completely.

You cry out, your fingers digging into the table as Kai starts to move. His thrusts are deep and powerful, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The magic within you responds to his touch, pulsing and surging in time with his movements.

"Fuck," Kai grits out, his grip on your hips tightening. "You're so tight. So perfect."

His free hand snakes around to your front, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. The dual sensations are overwhelming, and you can feel your orgasm building rapidly.

"Yes," you gasp, pushing back against him. "More. Harder."

Kai obliges, his hips slamming into yours with brutal force. The table creaks beneath you, the sound mixing with your moans and his ragged breathing. You can feel the magic reaching a fever pitch, the energy crackling in the air around you.

You cry out, completely lost in the sensations. Your mind is clouded, your body responding to his touch as if it were hardwired. The magic between you crackles like lightning, intensifying with every movement.

"That's it," Kai murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Let me hear you. Let me feel you."

His words fuel the fire within you, sending your control spiraling out of reach. The table beneath you seems to grow more unstable, the magic around you growing more chaotic.

Kai's movements become erratic, his breathing coming in short, sharp gasps. You can feel him swelling inside you, his release approaching. The magic within you responds, coiling tighter and tighter until it feels like you might burst.

"Come with me," Kai demands, his voice a low, commanding growl. "Now."

His words are all it takes to push you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, the magic exploding outwards in a burst of light and energy. The table beneath you shatters, the pieces flying across the room as you both ride out the intense waves of pleasure.

Kai collapses against your back, his body shaking with the force of his release.

You both remain there for a moment, panting and trembling in the aftermath of your intense encounter. The room is filled with the scent of magic and sweat, the air still crackling with energy. Slowly, Kai pulls away from you, his movements unsteady.

"Fuck," he mutters, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "That was... intense."

You turn to face him, your own legs shaking slightly. "Yeah," you agree, a small smile playing on your lips. "It was."

Kai's gaze lingers on you, a mixture of satisfaction and something softer in his eyes. He reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You're something else," he murmurs. "I don't know what it is about you, but... I can't get enough."

His words send a flutter through your chest, a mix of excitement and apprehension. You know that getting involved with Kai is dangerous, that he's a man with a dark past and a volatile present but you don't care.