#don't look behind the curtain etc

[pochapal]

once is noise twice is coincidence three times is a pattern...we're never gonna get a good look at any of these crime scenes at any point ever are we

[judesprincess]

NSFW ALPHABET – Jude Bellingham

note: hii babes, how are you? look, this is my first time posting something like this and English is not my first language so i ask you to be kind and ignore any mistake pls

ps: let me know if you like this, kisses 💋

a = aftercare (how they are after sex)

he would definitely be extremely careful and gentle after sex. constantly asking if he hurt you and checking your body; he knows how rough he can be (especially when he is frustrated), so he is quick to take care of you right after you are done having sex. he cleans you up while kissing you tenderly and repeating how good you felt; he always asks if you have cramps from penetration and if you do, he makes a nice warm compress to put on you. he holds you protectively and cuddles you until you fall asleep.

b = body part (his and his partner's favorite part)

he loves every part of your body, but besides that, I feel like he's the kind of man who likes curves, so I feel like he's obsessed with your ass, like he can't stop slapping and squeezing it... he also loves kissing and biting it and the sight of it all red from his slaps drives him crazy... I bet he would love your hips, he just loves holding them while he pounds you from behind

you see, when we talk about his favorite part of him i think that this man is definitely very proud of what he carries between his legs (those celebrations and demonstrations don't tell me otherwise), he just loves how impressed you are every time you see him naked (no matter how many times you've seen him like that) and how much you fight to take him every time... i bet he also loves his biceps, especially when he catches you staring at them shamelessly

c = cum (anything to do with cum)

he definitely loves cumming inside you. for him, there is nothing better than finishing inside you and seeing his cum dripping out;  he'd never admit it out loud, but you both knew it was primal, he just loved the idea of ​​claiming you like that and he loved even more the way you trusted him to let him do something so intimate

d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he secretly wants to try anal sex with you, but he'll never ask you out loud because he doesn't want to pressure you into doing something just to please him

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

let's be honest, that man is a hoe, he's definitely experienced (especially for his age), but i think he had to hold back in the beginning of the relationship to keep up with you, since you weren't experienced (let's ignore the fact that i'm basing this on my lack of experience) and he didn't want to scare you or overwhelm you with the dirty things he wanted to do to you

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

to me there are two sides to him, one dirty and naughty and the other gentle and caring; so I think there will be nights when he will put you on all fours and fuck you until you beg for mercy and other nights when he will go in the classic mommy and daddy style and make love to you softly and lovingly while whispering in your ear how beautiful and special you are to him.

g = goofy (are they more serious now? are they funny? etc.)

i think he could be the kind of guy who always wants to make you comfortable and easy, so I think he would make a joke or give you a reassuring smile when he sees you are nervous or tense.

however, of course, there are days when he is not in a good mood and maybe he will be more serious and focused.

h = hair (how well-groomed is it? does the carpet match the curtains?)

honestly, he is very clean and hygienic, but I don't think he shaves;  at most, I think he trims it a little (but he's definitely well taken care of)

i = intimacy (how are they at the moment? the romantic aspect)

like I said, for me he has two sides, so it will depend a lot on the occasion and his mood. there will be days when he'll be more naughty and maybe even verbally degrade you, but there will also be days when he'll be soft and nothing but compliments and sweet words will come out of his mouth

i think he likes to set the mood beforehand, even if it's something simple and, even if you say it's old-fashioned, you secretly love how thoughtful he is about it

j =  jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he definitely does this, always thinking about you and your body;  You are far from each other and have no time for FaceTime and Jude can't stop thinking about the nights of sex he had with you and before he can even think, his hand goes up and down his cock firmly, even though he knows that his hand doesn't even compare to anything you were capable of doing to him. Of course, when you are together, he doesn't even consider touching himself, always wanting you instead.

k = kink (one or more of your kinks)

• size kink: jude definitely has a size kink, he loves how different you are physically (in every way), how short and small you are compared to him; countless times you've caught him comparing the size of your hands and smirking at how small your hand is compared to his. let me tell you, that man definitely loves how different you are down there too, he absolutely loves how tight the fit is whenever he enters you

• praisy kink: that man loves to compliment and be complimented; he just loves saying nice things to you and letting you know how great you're doing. he also loves when you compliment him, when you let him know how good he makes you feel or how big he feels or even how gorgeous he is, it drives him crazy

• innocence kink: i might be crazy, but i think he would love the fact that you have no experience or little;  he would simply love the fact that he was your first and had to teach you everything, the idea of ​​molding you to his will would make him dizzy

l = location (favorite places to do the activity)

I think he is a reserved guy and, although he may allow himself to tease you in public sometimes, he always wants to keep his intimate moments away from anyone; the bedroom or any place in his house or yours (as long as they are alone) is perfect for him

m = motivation (what turns them on, keeps them going)

slightly anything; but something about feeling that you need him moves him in an unmatched way and makes him crazy with desire

n = no (something they wouldn't do, turns them off)

definitely nothing that would hurt you; also, i think he would definitely say a big no to sharing you with someone (no matter who it is)

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

that man seems like a spectacular pussy eater and he would definitely make you fall apart with those gorgeous lips

but he definitely loves a good blowjob, he just can't get over the image of your lips wrapped around his cock, he definitely loves to fuck your mouth

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

it all depends on his mood.  if it’s been a bad day or he’s really horny, he’ll definitely fuck you hard and rough (but always making sure the penetration isn’t hurting you), but on those days when things have gone well, he’ll go in slowly and gently, setting a pace

but I feel like no matter what the pace, he’ll always want to go deep, deep inside you so you can feel him completely

q = quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

while he loves taking all the time in the world with you, he also loves quickies—anything to feel you around him—and will take you anywhere in the house

r = risk (are they willing to experiment? are they risk-takers? etc.)

he absolutely hates the idea of ​​someone catching you in such an intimate moment;  it would be the death of him to know that someone saw you as vulnerable and exposed as that must be for his eyes only

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go? how long do they last?)

let's be real, have you ever seen the way that man runs for 90 minutes on the field?? you consider yourself a warrior for trying to keep up with his stamina; no matter how intense it was, there he is, dying to have more of you

t = toys (do they have toys? do they use them? on a partner or on themselves?)

i don't think he'd be too interested in that, although he wouldn't bug you for having some (although he would secretly be a little jealous); however, if you begged him, i think he might allow himself to use something like a cock ring

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

that man is a tease for sure, he would definitely tease you by blushing around him or being extremely wet and needy for him or even while you were struggling to get him

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he's definitely not the kind of guy who's going to be like a dead man while fucking; he'll definitely moan and grunt while mumbling dirty things to you

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

jude definitely has a "hero syndrome". he loves being your hero, no matter how silly it is; if you can't open a can or something, he's there to fix it quickly. it can be the most trivial thing, he'll want to fix it for you. he just loves the fact that you depend on him in some way – even though he knows it's lame, he can't help but feel that way – he always wants to be the guy who puts a smile on your face and who makes you feel safe and protected

x = x-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

i think we have more than enough content to say that he's huge (and he's definitely thick too);  you are absolutely struggling to take it all in

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he is literally never satisfied. he always wants more and more of you and you just love how desired he makes you feel

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he will only fall asleep after you, only after he is sure you are completely comfortable and satisfied.

well, i really hope you enjoyed it and feel free to interact with me anonymously (or not), kisses 💋

[hopesangelsprite]

So Anxious

Summary: It's strange, the things you make Illumi feel, so strange that he keeps his distance from you almost constantly. After a long day, though, he can't help but crave that strange, inebriating feeling.

Warnings: heavy petting, whipped/needy/pervy Illumi (possibly OOC), suggested smut, no editing, mentions of death/blood/etc. (yk just normal Illumi tingz).

MINORS/AGELESS ACCS DNI

It wasn't normal for the eldest Zoldyck son to feel fickle emotions such as anxiety or stress. Hell, it was hard for him to feel anything at all, and if his father caught wind of these developing feelings there'd be Hell to pay. That didn't stop the irregular beating of Illumi's heart as he calmly drove a pin deeper into the skull of his latest unlucky target. He was an older fellow and, from what Illumi had read, a crooked politician. That didn't matter to him, of course. The only thing bothering Illumi at the moment were memories of your arms around him, memories of the softness of your skin.

A frustrated growl escaped the slender male's chest as he drove the golden pin deeper than he should've thus ending the poor old man's life. Disgust painted its way across Illumi's features as he staired at the now lifeless corpse below him. He'd meant to keep him around a little bit longer.

"Hm? Dead already? Don't tell me you're losing your touch!", came the grating voice of his killing companion, Hisoka Morrow. Usually, Illumi let his distaste for the brightly colored clown settle in the back of his mind, but today was different. Today, he was high strung and ready to brutally murder the aforementioned male. Illumi directed a particularly sharp pin in Hisoka's general vicinity. "I'll kill you. Right here, right now.", he hissed earning an unfazed stare in return. "You've used that threat too many times for it to be affective.", the clown muttered while kicking the corpse into a nearby body bag, "Seriously, what's gotten into you? You've been acting weird all day and it's creeping me out.".

Illumi glared at the back of Hisoka's head and considered how much effort it'd take to remove it completely. After a second of thought, he deemed it a waste of his time and checked the time on his phone. The numbers '1:38 am' glowed from the screen almost tauntingly. If he was going to make it to your bed tonight, he'd have to leave now.

The dark-haired male looked up and found himself face to face with his mischievous counterpart. After seeing how long he'd stared into his screen, Hisoka could just about read Illumi's mind. "Go ahead then, loverboy, I'll take care of this old geezer. Don't keep your little lady waiting! ~". A nod was all Illumi could muster as he began sprinting back toward the city. Before he was out of earshot, he could make out Hisoka yelling something about meeting you some time in the future.

"Over your dead body.", Illumi thought as he caught sight of the glittering horizon. There was no way Hisoka would ever live to see the day that Illumi would allow something of his to be tainted by his presence.

Ten minutes.

______________________________________________________________

That's how long it took for Illumi to make it to the outside of your windowsill. Now, as he sat perched on the stone ledge jutting out of the building, he wondered if he should just suffer through the night and contact you in the morning. Consideration was another new thing Illumi found himself struggling with after you'd wormed your way into his life.

Just as he prepared to drop from the sill, he caught sight of your silhouette entering the room. His breath caught in his throat as he watched you stretch from behind your silvery curtains. All previous thoughts of leaving exited Illumi's mind and other... explicit ones began to make his head swim with need. Slowly, the assassin brought a bloodied hand to your window and began tapping incessantly. It didn't take long for your figure to still and cautiously approach the window. The closer you got, the more he found himself leaning into the cold glass. If you didn't open it soon, he wouldn't mind breaking in...

To say he wasn't amused at the brief flash of fear in your eyes when you finally got the courage to open your curtains would be a lie. When you finally slowed the beating of your heart and opened the window, Illumi was in the room before the glass was fully open. "I'm home.", he breathed out into the warm, vanilla scented room. You leaned forward a little to shut the window, not missing the blood and earth littering his skin and clothes. "I can see that...", you hummed with an eyeroll, "I almost pushed your ass out of that window.". Illumi let the threat slip through one ear and out the other as he took in your smaller frame. You'd happen to wear those dainty little pajamas he'd bought you not too long ago; the ones with the thin top and shorts just barely long enough to keep you warm at night.

The only thing that should be keeping your warm at night was him.

His eyes followed your figure as you rummaged through your closet for a second. "Here, take these.", you started while throwing him a pair of his joggers and underwear he'd left and directed him toward your bathroom, "I'll be here when you're finished". Illumi stood there for a moment and let his eyes trace your form before stalking off toward the bathroom. The quicker he was clean, the faster he could indulge himself in your presence. He wanted to lie and say that he was using you for some sort of personal gain, wanted to say you were a pawn in one of his many games. He couldn't though... not when he could feel the ice thawing in his chest when you held him close, not when your hands made him as weak as they did.

As the warm water washed the filth from his skin, any traces of the strength his father had instilled in him washed away with it. All thoughts left his mind as he breathed in your scent through clouds of steam.

When he finally finished showering and dressing, he crept toward your room door silently. He watched as you scrolled through your phone unaware of his prying eyes. Suddenly, your eyes met his and you sat up with a smile, curls falling into your face. "Don't just stand there, idiot! Come here and let me take care of you.", you beckoned. One second Illumi was at the edge of your doorframe and the next he was settled between your plush thighs. His eyes closed as you whispered sweet nothings into air while drying his hair with the towel he'd subconsciously brought to you. If you were to kill him now, he wouldn't mind in the slightest. It'd only be fitting considering how weak you'd managed to make him by simply existing.

"I've killed for you... and I'll do it again.", he whispered into your skin. It was a truth he would usually leave unspoken, a truth you'd suspected long before its uttering. "I know, pretty boy, I know.", you hummed softly while tossing the towel into an unknown corner.

"I want to consume you. All of you will be mine and there's nothing you can do to stop me.", he purred as you held his face close to yours and peppered it with cocoa butter scented kisses. "I know, pretty boy, I know.", you breathed just before your lips locked with his.

The kiss lasted a lot longer than the ones he'd dealt you in the past. This one was filled with unsatiable hunger, it was filled with greed. Illumi rose to cage you underneath him and let his lips roam every inch of your skin available to him. He listened to your breathing change, and he knew he had you where he wanted you. Carefully, with lips and teeth etching praises into your neck, he pressed your thighs against your chest and your ankles on his shoulders. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the tinkling sound of the anklets he'd had designed specifically for you and his sweats became too tight for comfort.

Illumi broke away from the intoxicating taste of your skin and sat back to assess the damage he'd caused. You were a sight to behold; brown skin littered with hickeys, unshed tears prickling at your lash line, and clothes barely covering your body. Illumi wanted nothing more than to make those tears fall from your eyes and rid your body of the fabric separating your skin from his. Still, consideration nipped at the back of his mind as he observed the tiredness in your eyes as well. He'd been thinking too long, apparently, because your hands were back on his face pulling him in for another long kiss.

Illumi decided that he'd send you off to sleep with a treat.

A muffled gasp fell from your lips onto his as he snaked a hand between your bodies and began toying with you through your shorts. To his surprise, and delight, they were the only thing between his hand and that sensitive spot he liked to abuse. Illumi drank in the broken whimpers and moans you offered him with unabashed fervor. Soon, his lips wandered blessing his ears with the sweet sounds of your pleas. He found himself licking a long stripe up from the base of your neck to a sensitive spot he'd discovered not too long ago.

Illumi practically purred at the feeling of your nails drawing patterns into the skin of his back that would undoubtedly be left for him to see in the morning. "If anyone ever tries to take you from me, I'll kill them. Mine... all mine.. only mine.", he whispered into ear as he felt your thighs quiver on either side of him, "That's it, sweet thing. Come for me, I know you can do it. Make me proud.". As you came, tears slipping down your cheeks, Illumi almost came undone at the sight.

Curtains of long, raven-colored hair surrounded you, allowing your eyes to be trained on the dark ones peering down at you with a twisted look of love and warmth. As your consciousness slowly ebbed away, the comforting weight of Illumi's body on top of yours lulled you into a sense of security. Illumi watched you fall asleep as he removed his hand from between your thighs and shut his own eyes. He ignored the twitching in his pants as he too lost consciousness. It didn't bother him that he was falling asleep unsatisfied.

He'd simply have his fill of you in the morning.

[obae-me]

I have been asked to expand on the MC with trauma scenarios, and you know what, I need the comfort, so let's do it! (No these are not based on myself, I don't know what you're talking about....)

Also I've seen a ton of people's responses to the last one and just know that I am spiritually patting you all on the head and wrapping a soft blanket around your shoulders.

--

MC with ~Trauma~ PT 2!

Imagine an MC who has been mocked, berated, or criticized for their joys and hobbies. They don't do those things anymore or go to great lengths to hide them.

They never share their writing or their art with anyone. They are surrounded by demons and angels much more talented than them. The thing that they felt they were moderately talented in is below average compared to these beings... Everything they create is hidden in secret digital folders or kept in notebooks under their mattress or tucked in secret spots on their bookshelves.

They never sing or dance or play their instruments. They almost avoid the music room altogether. It's almost too painful for them to think about. If they attend a dance they just stand off to the sides... They don't participate in karaoke. They don't hum to their favorite songs.

They hardly cook, or garden, or read, or edit, or color, or knit, or crochet, or embroider, or anything else that they might enjoy.

Imagine some of the nosier brothers not realizing the pain that hides behind their passions and either playfully spying on them or digging up their secrets. Their hearts are fully destroyed when their human breaks down in tears. Now, every single day, every character encourages them to do what they love and giving them private time and space to do it in a place where they feel safe. They all hope that maybe one day MC will feel comfortable enough to share what they love with them but they will never pry it out of them, and all the while giving them the support they need behind the curtain.

Imagine Satan, Levi, and Mammon grouping together and creating a PowerPoint presentation. With Satan's organizing skills, Levi's technological know-how, and Mammon's morally grey skills of espionage, they gather all the characters together and teach a class on what to do and not to do around MC. Things like having a clear voice in text messages to keep them from having anxiety. Or not slamming doors, not entering their room without knocking, reminding them to drink water, knowing when to give them time to breathe etc. Everyone takes it seriously (some might say too seriously), including Belphie who didn't even sleep for a second during the whole thing.

What about an MC who takes on too much and never says anything about it? At first, Lucifer, Barbatos, and to a lesser degree Diavolo, are pleased that they've found a human with a strong work ethic and a love for responsibility. Little do they know that while part of that might be true, they are doing it because they are non-confrontational, a people pleaser, or try to prove their worth through success (or all of the above). They burn themselves out and forgo their other needs to conserve all their energy for the work that's been given to them, and it's not until it becomes a serious health issue that anyone really notices. They all take a blow when they come to know how much they had been pushing a human beyond their capabilities. So they tell MC to do less, not expecting the human to try and convince them that it wasn't an issue, maybe even apologizing for failing. Now they all have to keep an eye on MC and make sure they don't take things too far, and make sure that MC knows that their worth isn't tied to how much gets done in a day and they don't think of them any less for taking breaks or time for themselves. And maybe they all learn to take care of themselves a little more for it too. Especially one work-a-holic demon known as Pride.

How about an MC that hates the way they look? No matter what that might be. Body size, shape, height, skin-tone, skin-color, scars, blemishes, freckles, etc. What if it was drilled into their head since they were a child that they were not beautiful? What if they can't look into the mirror or take any photos of themselves without feeling sick? How about being around a demon like Asmo? Maybe resenting him, maybe avoiding him, maybe wishing they were like him. It probably would hurt Asmo to see someone hating themselves and their body so intently. Maybe it's because it reminds him of himself. Maybe they both have to sit down and rethink what beauty really means? It's a long process for both of them.

All of them work with the human with their image and not in a shallow way like trying to deny the things they have and who they are. They find ways around pictures, because there are more ways to keep memories rather than selfies and commemorative photos.

Or what if:

Beel: *In MC's room.* Alright, we'll just do some basic stretches.

MC: Okay, just tell me what to do.

Beel: Well, if you want, you can put on some music to make it more relaxing.

MC: Music? *Looks a little nervous.* If you want...

*MC then turns some music on their phone on the lowest setting and sets it on their bed.*

Beel: Um...you can turn it up more than that if you want.

MC: Louder? Really?

Beel: Don't you think it's a little quiet?

MC: Oh...um...okay... *turns it up by one more click.* Is- Is that okay? I can turn it down again.

Beel: *Opens his mouth, confused for a moment before shutting it again. In the quickest second, he's in his demon form.* Who do I need to find?

MC: B-Beel?!

[narcissisticmf]

get up | bucky barnes x fem!reader

description: y/n is not a morning person and bucky tries everything in his power to ease her into the start of the day.

trigger warnings: fluff, some seductive behavior, domestic!bucky, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: <1k

The sun slipped its way through the closed curtains, shining brightly into the room. Your body was entangled within the sheets and thick blankets among your queen sized bed. You grumbled softly as the morning sun hit your eyes, causing you to slowly shield your face behind the thick blanket, no desire to get up yet.

You felt Bucky stir beside you, your back facing him. He must've been waking up. You felt his right arm slip protectively around your stomach, making you to groan softly.

You loved Bucky's affection, but receiving it early in the morning was something you were trying to get yourself used to. You hated physical affection in the morning and, of course, Bucky knew this but that didn't stop him.

"Mornin', sweetheart," Bucky mumbled into your ear with resonance. You gently moaned, clearly not ready to get up yet.

"You want some tea?" he asked, nibbling gently on your earlobe. You stayed quiet, but turned over to face him. You were so tired, and something unusual made you nestle closer to hin that morning. Your face disappeared into his chest and beneath the covers as his arms engulfed you tightly.

"Look at you.." Bucky whispered with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You released a soft huff and breathed in his scent. "What's got you so soft this morning, hm?"

"Shh," you whispered with a soft whine, no desire to speak yet.

To this, Bucky laughed. He pressed a warm kiss to your temple.

After a few moments of stillness that enveloped the room, Bucky dipped his chin down and pressed a lingering kiss to the apple of your cheek. "Cmon, sweetheart," he whispered as softly as possible. "Time to get up."

"Nooo," you dragged out softly.

"Yesss," he mimicked your tone with a smile.

"Bucky," you huffed and lifted your chin to look up at him. Your hair was matted against your forehead, your eyes glassed over the iridescent glimmer of them, and your lips were dry, slightly chapped.

"Y/N," Bucky smiled, sat up while leaning on his elbow, and cupped your face with his hands. You shivered at the cold touch of his metal arm, but relished in the light thrill.

"There's my girl," he grinned and leaned down to press a kiss to your nose. "Good morning."

"Morning," you couldn't fight your smile as Bucky leaned down to pepper kisses across your jawline and neck. You rested your head against the pillows and fluttered your eyes closed, admiring the feel of his warm lips against your cold skin.

He halted at your collarbone and seemed to question with his eyes if he should keep going. When you didn't protest, he sucked the skin over your bone.

Your body shuttered, leaving gooseflesh across your exposed arms.

"I felt that," Bucky smirked.

"Shut up," you laughed and nudged him off you.

He didn't fight you and laughed, shuffling off the bed. He turned to look down at you, still beneath the covers.

"How'd I get so lucky, hm?" Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at you with such an intense gaze, you felt your face go hot.

"Bucky," you whined softly and covered your face with the blankets.

"No, no, please.. don't cover that beautiful face," Bucky implored pathetically, leaning against the mattress to tug the sheets away.

You giggled when he clearly won the tug-o-war battle.

"There she is," Bucky grinned. "Come on, I'll make us breakfast."

This time, you happily obliged.

.

a/n: hi cuties!! i know ive been gone for a hot minute, i've just been swamped with my classes. i'm taking 4 lit classes this semester 🙄 someone tell me why i thought that was a good idea. ANYWAY ,, i hope yall liked this one! i've been seeing sm bucky content bc of thunderbults (can't wait to see that btw) so i thought to write a cute little fic this morning with him. and seeing sebastian talk shit on donald trump to the press is so sexy to me 🤭 okok i'll stop fangirling!! love yall! have a nice thanksgiving to my u.s. friends who celebrate! — angelina.

[satellite-evans]

Hi! I saw that you’re taking requests..I wholeheartedly believe that Benedict is one of those ppl who are always warm like a human furnace sooo do you think you could write something about him keeping the reader warm when it’s cold outside (i.e, holding hands, hugging, etc.)

Much love😇💜

Warm Embrace

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: You find solace in the warm and comforting presence of your husband <3

Word count: 874

Warnings: just pure fluff

A/N:

Thank you so much for your request nonnie, You guys make me the happiest girl in the world when you sent in not only request, but also asks or questions, it honestly and truly makes my day🥹🥹🥹

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The chill of the early winter morning seeped through the cracks of the old country house, the wind howling softly outside. You shivered, wrapping your shawl tighter around your shoulders as you looked out the window, watching the first snowflakes of the season dance gracefully to the ground. The room was dimly lit, the pale morning light filtering through the heavy curtains, casting a serene, almost magical glow over everything.

"You're awake early," came a familiar, warm voice from behind you. You turned to see Benedict, his hair tousled from sleep, standing in the doorway of your bedroom. He wore a simple nightshirt, the soft fabric clinging to his well-built frame, his presence comforting and reassuring.

"I couldn't sleep," you admitted, smiling at him. "The cold woke me."

Benedict's eyes softened as he walked over to you, his presence immediately warming the room. "Come here," he murmured, pulling you into his arms. His body radiated heat, and you sighed contentedly as you nestled against his chest, feeling his warmth envelop you. His embrace was familiar and secure, the perfect refuge from the biting cold.

He led you back to the bed, pulling the covers up as you both slipped underneath. Benedict wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. His body radiated heat like a human furnace, and you felt the chill melt away as he held you tight. The sensation of his warm skin against yours was incredibly comforting, a stark contrast to the cold air outside the bed.

"Better?" he asked, his lips brushing against your temple.

"Much better," you replied, resting your head against his shoulder. "You always know how to keep me warm."

Benedict chuckled softly, his hand gently rubbing your back. "It's a husband's duty to ensure his wife is comfortable," he said, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Especially on such a cold morning."

You smiled against his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath your ear. "Well, you're certainly excelling at it," you teased, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. You felt the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, each exhale a soft whisper of warmth against your hair.

Benedict shifted slightly, pulling you even closer, his hands roaming your back in soothing circles. "Stay here with me," he whispered, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "We don't have to get up just yet. Let's just enjoy the warmth and the quiet."

You nodded, closing your eyes as you relaxed into his embrace. "There is no place in the world that I would rather at than to be here with you."

The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your cozy cocoon. The wind continued to howl outside, but you felt safe and warm within Benedict's arms. His fingers trailed up and down your spine, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

After a while, Benedict began to hum softly, the deep, rich sound vibrating through his chest. You recognized the tune – a lullaby his mother sang to him and his siblings when they were children. Violet told you that it was the only way her children slept, especially Benedict, who always found it difficult to fall asleep. The melody was soothing, and you felt yourself drifting off, lulled by the warmth of his body and the gentle sound of his voice. You couldn't help but wonder if Benedict would sing it later to his own children too.

Benedict continued to hum, his hands never ceasing their gentle movements on your back. He was like a living, breathing source of warmth and comfort, and you felt incredibly grateful to have him by your side. His warmth seemed to seep into your very bones, driving away any lingering chill.

As the morning light slowly brightened the room, you opened your eyes to find Benedict watching you, a tender smile on his lips. "Good morning again," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. The look in his eyes was one of pure adoration, making your heart swell with love.

"Good morning," you replied, leaning in to kiss him. His lips were warm and soft, and you felt a rush of love and contentment wash over you. The kiss was slow and tender and felt like a warm lasting hug that you never wanted to break.

"Shall we get up and start the day?" Benedict asked after a moment, his forehead resting against yours.

You shook your head, a playful smile on your lips. "Not just yet. Let's stay like this a little longer."

Benedict chuckled, his arms tightening around you. "As you wish, my love," he said, settling back against the pillows with you still in his embrace. The sound of his laughter was like a warm breeze, filling you with happiness.

And so you stayed, wrapped in each other's warmth, savoring the quiet moments before the day began. Outside, the snow continued to fall, but inside, all you felt was the heat of Benedict's love, keeping the cold at bay. The world outside could wait; for now, there was only the two of you, nestled together in your own private haven of warmth and love.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: I really gotta finish my paper (don't worry I'm like 3/4 done).

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The light is there again. Bright, green, searing into your vision as it shines against the wall, weaving in perfectly between the curtains. Every night. Taunting you. And in the morning, gone. 

Can you call it a pattern after only three days?  

You don’t know what to call it. You don’t know what he wants from you. If he wanted to hurt you, he would by now, wouldn’t he? Or is this a sick game he’s playing? Whatever it is, it’s madness.  

You sit up and grab your pillow. You cross the room to the door and close it behind you. You put the pillow on the couch and pull down the folded throw across the back. You don’t expect to sleep out here either but you won’t have to stare at the insufferable dot. 

You lay down on your back and sigh at the ceiling. You stare up at the plaster until your eyes close on their own. Your shoulders are tense, your back too, every muscle in you has been knotted for days. You tried a hot shower, even a bath, but both just made you feel vulnerable. You’ve never been overly comfortable being naked but now you feel as if he can see your every movement. 

You tried some exercises in an effort to loosen up too. Those only made you dizzy due to your lack of sleep and rationing. Those should be a sign for you to rethink your strategy but your only other option is to face the danger. You know better than that. 

You huff as the last gray days pile on you. You open your eyes and bring your hand up to your forehead, trying to rub away the stress. You pause as a gleam flashes over your flesh. You drop your arm back down and raise yourself on your elbows. 

Jeez. 

Right there in the middle of your chest is the dot, rather a sliver of it. You look up as it glints in between the verticle blinds. You drop back down. Fine, whatever, if he’s going to shoot, he should just get it over with. You hate this limbo. It’s easy when you know what you’re waiting for. This is just torture. 

A sudden jarring jingle cuts through the din. You sit up, heart beating. It isn’t the deafening gunshot you expected. The green laser ripples through the darkness as you stagger up to your feet and cover your ears. You follow the blaring noise into the bedroom. 

Your phone lights up on your nightstand, flashing as you cross the space. You grab it and quickly silence it, staring at the screen in confusion. You keep your phone on silent, always. You never really use it for more than your banking and emails. On the screen, you see a map of your neighbourhood and a speck pulsing at the centre; your apartment. Huh. 

You remember dismissing that feature before. Several times when you got the phone it kept offering to set up the ‘find your phone’ app but you figured you wouldn’t need it. Yet, here it is, chiming and chirping at you. It isn’t a coincidence. It’s him. 

You peer over at the window and the green glare pours through. You look down again and find the dot right there. You shake your head and back away, hugging yourself as you flee back into the living room. It’s all so messed up and confusing. You don’t get how this can be happening. 

You go into the kitchen. No windows to haunt you there. You put your phone down and lean on the counter as you hold your head. You blow out a breath and you close your eyes. 

You try not to let yourself ask the questions but you’re so tired, you can’t keep fighting this hard. Who is he? How did he find you? Was that day at the cafe the first? Were you so obtuse that you never noticed him before? Does any of it matter? 

The silence shatters again as your phone erupts in a cacophony once more. You back away and cup your ears. You’ve never done well with noise, especially loud noise, or too much at once. It’s a sort of dissonance that makes your head spin. 

You scramble to grasp the phone, eardrums pulsing, and you hit the button again to hush it. You close out of the app and a notification pops up at the top of the screen. For a moment, you’re confused. The only messages you get are obvious scammers or stupid adverts you need to unsubscribe from. 

‘Get some beauty sleep.’ 

You scowl as you stare at the text. What does that even mean? Even if the number is private, you don’t need to guess. You know it’s him. He’s messing with you. You won’t respond, not even in writing. You delete the conversation entirely and shut the phone off. 

You leave it on the counter and go back to the couch. The laser awaits you. You lay down under it and resign yourself to your fate. The only comfort is he’s still out there and you’re in here. A ripple of fear courses through you as you wonder how long that can last. 

👄

Your mail doesn’t come to your door. It’s left in one of the dozens of metal boxes near the front door. Typically you go down to grab it twice a week. You haven’t gone once in the last six days. You don’t plan on it either. You get digital statements for everything anyhow. 

Yet, that doesn’t stop the special delivery from sliding underneath the door. You’re in your kitchen when you hear the soft whoosh. You go to the doorway and stare at the envelope on your floor as you lazily stir your instant coffee. You’re too tired to react with more than a yawn. 

You think it could be a notice from the building. They usually leave one when they have to do an inspection. Yet, there’s not sign of the rental companies logo and the envelope is black. You doubt they’ve rebranded. 

You sip from your coffee and sit at your desk. You login to the portal and open up a task. You don’t need to worry about all that. You muster all you have left for your daily toil. It’s the one thing you can’t forego; the one thing you share in common with other people, you need money to survive. 

You empty the coffee with careless gulps as you key through several tasks. The hours drag by, the clock ticking in the corner of the screen, second by second, minute by grueling minute. The days don’t matter, they all blend together in this hazy purgatory. 

You’re drawn from your mindless typing by the agonising growl of your stomach. You’re starving. Those times when you do let yourself eat, it isn’t much. Finally, your humanly needs have overcome your lack of appetite. You can’t deny it any longer. 

You return to the kitchen with your empty mug. You go to rinse it and water spurts forth, for just a second, then the pipes grind and run dry. You put the cup in the sink and cross your arm. You march out to the bathroom and try the sink in there with the same result. The faucet in the tub runs a little longer but peters out to a single drip. 

Hm, maybe that’s what the letter’s about. 

You sweep back out and scoop up the envelope. Just bending down makes you see stars. You put it on the counter and go to the cupboard to take out the salted crackers. You unfurl the top of the sleeve and wiggle one out. You munch on the stale square and slip your thumb under the flap of the envelop and tear. 

You put down the crackers and rip open one end of the envelope. You shake out the contents. It isn’t a letter. Just a folded pamphlet with something smaller inside. You unfold the spa booklet to uncover the all-inclusive pass within. You drop both and grip your head. 

Is this some sort of bribe? Bait? He’s trying to draw you out and with what? The worst experience you could think of? The smells, the touching, the people... 

You put it all back in the envelope. You don’t want it. You don’t even want it in your apartment. Your safe space. He’s invading it little by little. He can’t have it.  

You go to the door and shove it back under the bottom. You push it as far as you can and fall back, catching yourself on the wall. Your head hurts, you’re tired, you’re stressed, you’re afraid. You just want everything to go back the way it was. You want to be alone. That’s all you ever wanted. 

👄

You use your phone to authorise the two-factor sign-in to your bank account. You set it aside after confirming and wait for the screen to load. Your heart nearly stops as you see the balance. A few times you came too close to the red but this is not what you’re expecting. There’s about fifty thousand dollars extra. It has to be an error. 

You click on your chequing and bring up the next screen. There is is ‘50,000’ in bold green letters but it doesn’t say where it’s come from, just ‘authorised payment’ next to it. What the heck does that mean?  

Right below it you see your work deposit. That appears as usual. Company name, amount, account number. So what happened? 

You click the chat icon at the bottom of the page and wait for an agent to connect. You go through the typical automated questions; what is your issue? Account number? All of that. When you finally have a representative and explain the extra zeros in your account, the response is only three dots. 

You shake your head. You don’t need this. You have enough going on. Your water’s still out, you’re almost out of coffee, and you haven’t even started work. Halfway through and it feels like you’ve only just started a new week. You frame your face as you await the response. 

‘Hello, miss. Thank you for your patience. We have found no error in this transfer.’ 

You lean back and whine. That doesn’t make sense.  

‘Can I know where the money came from?’ You type. 

‘The payee is listed as London Fog LLC. It appears to be a business payment.’ 

You close your eyes. What? That makes no sense. It... can’t be. 

‘Can you reverse the payment, please?’ You input. 

‘We can attempt to reverse this. This might take a few days to process. We will keep the ticket open until this is done.’ 

‘Thank you.’ 

You close out the chat. That’s as best as you can do. It’s all so weird and you can’t deny the nagging truth. It’s not an error or a coincidence. It’s that stranger. He is playing a very confusing game. 

Your phone lights up and your eyes flit down. You lean in to glimpse the notification before it minimises. ‘Happy hump day <3’. You quickly black out the screen and flip it over. Leave me alone! 

👄

You almost expect the knock on your door. Deep down, you knew it was coming. Noon, on the dot. It’s Wednesday. 

“London Fog express!” He calls through. “Ew, this one’s gone a bit bad.” 

You hear him shifting around before the handle turns without give. He wiggles it and sighs. He huffs and you can tell by his shadow he’s leaning on the door. 

“Look, jellybean, I came all the way here, even burnt myself on this thing,” he says through the door, “you know, I’ve had some late nights...” he pauses as you sit silent, unmoving at your desk. “You don’t have to do more than open the door and take the cup. Promise, I won’t try nothing. I mean, I’ve been pretty patient, haven’t I?” 

You press your fingers to the edge of your desk to keep from shaking. 

“Right, I guess... I haven’t even introduced myself. How forgetful. Name’s Lloyd, but you could call me like L or love bear or... snookums. Something sweet like that.” 

You can’t. You’re going to pass out from absurdity. This man is psychotic. 

“You know, I’m a pretty handsy—handy guy. I could fix that water issue you got going on--” 

Holy cow. How does he know—how could he? He wouldn’t be able to just shut off your water. Right? 

“See, I get you, baby face, you’re the quiet type. You like to keep to yourself. That’s fair but everyone needs someone. I see that now,” he rambles through the door as it groans against his lean, “I didn’t before. Then I saw you and everything changed. It’s me and you, cupcake.” 

You stand and shudder, walking stiffly around the corner and towards the door. You step up and try to see through the peep hole. It’s still black. You exhale and sniff. 

“What do you want?” You croak. 

Silence. The door shifts as he takes his weight off of it. He soles scuff on the other side. 

“Hi,” his voice softens, “how are you, jellybean?” 

You close your eyes. You just want an answer. You cross your arms and rocks, a soothing gesture as your nerves bubble up. 

“Yeah, that’s okay, I know you’re not much of a talker. We balance each other out like that. I’m doing okay, you know? Cafe was a bit crowded but I got your latte. Foam shouldn’t have fallen yet so if you just want to open--” 

“What do you want?” You step closer to the door and raise your voice. 

He scoffs into a hum, “isn’t it obvious, babes?” 

You open your eyes and bit your upper lip. 

“You, baby cakes. Simple as that,” he drawls, “so why don’t you grab your tea and we can have a little sit down.” 

“Go away.” 

He huffs and clicks his tongue, “don’t be like that, sweetie.” 

“I don’t know you--” 

“I’m Lloyd, your love bear--” 

“Stop. I want you to leave me alone.” 

Another sharp exhale from the other side. A lull that prickles across your skin. 

“I can’t do that.” 

You wince, “please...” 

“All you have to do is open the door, jellybean. You know I’m a good guy. I’ve been looking out for you. Every night,” something drags down the door. “You can’t lock yourself away forever.” 

You step back and lean on the wall weakly. He’s delusional and you’re so tired. You’re almost tempted to open the door just to get it over with. You sink down onto your butt and hug your knees. 

“No.” 

That’s all you say. It’s all you can eke out.  

He taps on the door lightly and sucks his teeth. “Well, guess I gotta amp up my game.” 

[whorekneecentral]

Christmas On The Farm

Erling Haaland x Fem!Reader

Warnings: family christmases, stealing a tree, use of an axe, getting caught, soft boyfriend erling, a few cheesy moments, fingering, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation kinda, penetrative sex (p in v), nipple sucking, creampie, getting caught in a different way :)

Word Count: 2,357

Author's Note: omg it's the big mannnn, anytime I think of erling, I think of the farm so here we are lmao - also this is for pookie too sorry lmao all her bfs are in here

merry smutmas series

--

Erling takes you home to spend the holidays at the Haaland Family Farm and you two end up being the only ones there. 

"Are we going the right way?" You look over at your boyfriend, the man driving through the snow.

Erling nods, "I promise I know where I'm going." He laughs, the wind shield wipers make a squeaking sound, brushing the snow away as he slowly makes his way up the road. He turns into the driveway, the snow really coming down as he parks the car.

"It's freezing!" You shouted, running up the front porch stairs to unlock the door. Erling rolls his eyes at your theatrics, getting the bags out of the car before following you into the house.

The door shuts behind him, Erling shaking the snow off of his hoodie.

The two of you had ventured up to the Haaland family farm for the holidays. His siblings and parents were supposed to meet you guys there but due to the snowstorm, their flights were canceled. They would be arriving on Christmas Eve rather than the 18th like the two of you so that left it up to you to get things ready for the holidays.

It takes the two of you an hour to defrost and get comfortable, Erling rearranging things to his liking and you were relaxing on the couch, finally glad to have your boyfriend to yourself and not have to fight for his attention during the season - though you had to give it to him, he balanced everything in his life perfectly.

"We should decorate," he announces, coming into the living room from the kitchen. You look at the man over your book, "okay, with what?"

Looking around, the house lacked Christmas spirit big time.

Before you could gather yourself, Erling's got you over his shoulder as he walks down the hallway. "I can walk, you know!" You say through the giggles, holding onto him.

He smiles, putting you down at the end of the hallway. "Where's the fun in that?"

You roll your eyes at his childish ways, letting him walk into the room first. The room was used for storage, all sorts of things packed away in boxes and containers. You flipped the switch, turning on the light as he looked around. Eventually you two found the boxes marked for Christmas - ornaments, garland, lights etc.

One by one you moved the boxes into the living room and you started on your tasks.

Erling braved the cold; something that never really bothered him - having his Norwegian blood and all - and strung the lights around the porch railing and roof.

You were working on the inside; wrapping the staircase in garland, changing the curtains to the red and green ones, hanging mistletoe, replacing the regular throw pillows for the holidays ones and things like that. Eventually Erling came back in, helping you with the rest of the tasks, a few miscellaneous things to do here and there around the house.

There was one box left, the big label on the top read ornaments.

"We need a tree," you looked over at him, your hands on your hips.

Erling smiles, "you look.. very wife like."

"Thank you, I guess," you laughed, "but we still need a tree. Do you guys have one somewhere? Did we forget it in the room?"

"You mean like.. a fake one?"

"Yeah, duh." You looked at your boyfriend, the look of confusion on his face. "We don't have one in the house but there's one outside."

"Okay where is it? In the barn or?" You trailed off, waiting for an answer.

"No, we can just cut one down." He says, tossing your hoodie to you. The sweater lands on your face and you move it, looking at the man like he was insane. "I'm sorry, we can.. what?"

"Cut the tree down. There's a few at the back of the property. It stopped snowing so we can make it and be back before it gets really dark."

You put your sweater on, looking for your coat. "Have you ever cut a tree down before?"

Erling shakes his head, putting his own coat on. "No, but it can't be that hard."

He was out the door before you could protest. You really had no choice now, did you? You followed the man to the barn, he pulled an axe out of some trunk and handed you a giant torch light. It was the blind leading the blind, the two of you trudging through the snow to find a Christmas tree.

Sometimes you really wondered what went through this man's head. Then you wondered if you were right in the head, following him through the snow in the dark to find a tree.

You find a few, settling on the biggest one you could get without it being too heavy to carry or too big for the house, and Erling started swinging the axe.

You took a step back; you trusted him but not when it came to chopping a tree down in the dark.

It reminded you of when you were a child, your father yelling at you to hold the light one way while he's doing something and you held it a different way.

So there you were, dragging a Christmas tree through the snow with your boyfriend. "Move faster," Erling says and you grumble.

"We don't all have superhuman strength, you know."

"Just hurry up, babe," he told you.

You grumble again, trying to move a little faster but between the thick snow, the heavy tree and holding the light, it was a little hard to do.

"What's the rush anyways ?"

"Well," he starts and you know that tone; something was wrong. "It's actually the neighbour's tree."

"WHAT?" you stopped, turning to face him. "WE STOLE A TREE?!"

He laughs, nodding for you to keep walking. "It's not that serious babe, just keep walking."

Sometimes you really wondered how you ended up with him as a boyfriend, but the fact that he made you an accomplice to Christmas tree theft is outweighed by how good of a boyfriend he is.

Despite all your huffing, you help him get the tree into the house in the snow off of it. It took about an hour of sorting for you two to settle on a theme for the tree; the classic red, green and gold. The ornaments hung off the branches, Erling strung the lights around the tree before finally plugging it in.

The two of you admired your work, his arms wrapped around you as he hugged you from behind, his chin resting on your head.

Your own hand rests on his, "I cannot believe you made me steal a Christmas tree."

Erling laughs, "is it really stealing though ? The tree is out in the open sooo.." He trails off, making you laugh. You turned to face him, your hands holding his jaw, "you're ridiculous."

He leans into you, kissing you softly. "'Tis the season for giving, baby."

"Yeah, sure."

"Speaking of gifts," he starts, his hands moving to rest on your lower back, pulling you flush against him. "I have one for you."

You brows furrowed, "it's the 18th, babe. You're a whole week early." Your head tilts to the side as you look at your boyfriend. The man smiles, shaking his head as he leans down to kiss you.

It clicks, you realize what his gift is.

"Oh," you giggled, the two of you shifting to the floor. "I like this kinda gift," you whisper, his lips moving to your neck.

"I knew you would," he mumbles into your skin, his cold hand slipping under your shirt. "Erling!" You shrieked, wiggling away from him.

The man smiles, "sorry."

He sits against the couch, watching as you undress in front of him. The leggings sliding down your smooth legs, pooling by your ankles before you step out of them, you pull off the sweater and that leaves you in the same blue set Erling loves so much.

You reach behind to unhook your bra but he stops you, “leave it on.” 

He pulls you by your waist back to him, his hand slipping down to rest on your ass before giving it a smack. You’re quiet, looking down at your boyfriend on the floor. 

“I like this,” he tells you, fingers rubbing over the blue lace. 

You smile, “I know.” 

He pulls you to lay on the floor, he’s sat between your legs with one on either side of him. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. Erling pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy and he gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him. 

His fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling. 

“Baby, please.” your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach. 

You try to wiggle your hands away from him, trying to grab on something. “Behave.” He tells you, adding another finger.

You subconsciously spread your legs, giving him more room. Erling's cheek presses to your inner thigh, watching as your face twists, pleasure all across it and your hands stop wiggling, he smiles, satisfied. 

Erling can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the blue lace you’re wrapped up in and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes.

He shifts to lay on his stomach between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt. 

Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking. He wants you to look at him. Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. 

He knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more and Erling gives in - he always gives into you. Two fingers in you and he glances up to see your head tossed back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and your free hand groping your tit. 

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. 

He pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness. 

“What- why’d you stop?” You asked, pouting at your boyfriend in disapproval.

Erling sits up, patting his lap. “C’mere.” 

You manage to pull yourself up, your legs feeling like jelly as you move yourself onto your boyfriend’s lap. Erling's hands resting on your lower back, fingers dancing up and down the curve of your spine. They run up once more before they stop on the clasp of your bra. 

He unhooks it, letting the straps slide down your arms and land on your lap. He brings his hands around to your stomach, once again his fingers slide up your soft skin before resting on your tits. 

“Erling,” you call, eyes fixed on him.

He hums, his focus on your tits rather than anything you had to say. Gripping his chin between your fingers, he finally looks at you. 

“Please,” you mumble, the desperation all over your face. Erling smiles, there's a look you've seen a million times over on his face.

You’re up on your knees, hovering over his lap, your hands under you as you undo his pants. Erling helps you, pulling them down enough for you to sink down onto him. Your hand rests on his shoulder, giving you a moment to gather yourself before starting to bounce on his lap.

You look at your boyfriend, watching as he kisses down your chest, over your tits before his lips wrap around your nipple, tongue lapping over it. Your hand tangles in his hair, his name falling from your lips.

Your back arches a bit, pushing into Erling. His hand moves from your hip to your other tit, fingers pinching your nipple, twisting and rolling it softly between his thumb and index finger. 

“God,” you breathe, a hand raking through Erling's blonde hair. 

You rock your hips forward and Erling's head drops back into the couch, his eyes fluttered closed.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” His hand pats your hip, “made just for me.” He tells you, your lips on his neck -- a trail of marks and sloppy kisses being left along his neck.

Erling can feel the way you were clenching around him and he knew you were close; you knew he was close, his eyes closed and head back.

His hand reaches between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit once again. “Oh my god,” your hips bucked, his fingers matching the pace of his hips, your body rocking back and forth to get the most out of your boyfriend. 

“C’mon sweetheart, want you to cum for me.” He says, knowing it won't be long more. 

He knew you like the back of his hand, every look, every touch, every movement, he knew you.

Between the two, he pushes you over the edge. The knot in your stomach comes loose and your boyfriend watches as you cum. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, Erling follows behind you. 

The two of you are holding onto each other like the other is going to disappear, giggly and love drunk. Your boyfriend peppers kisses all over your face, your arms wrapped over his shoulders.

It wasn't until there was a knock on the door that you two froze, looking at each other. "Erling?!" The voice calls from outside.

His hand covers your mouth, your brows furrowed and eyes widen as you look at him. His lips are by your ear, "it's the neighbour."

You move his hand, whispering back to him. "The lights are on."

"Shhh, they'll go away if we're quiet."

You look at your boyfriend, lips pressed together in an attempt to muffle your laughter. He really did make you wonder sometimes.

--

taglist: @nosugarallspice  @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16  @books-and-netflix-pls  @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade  @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

[thefanbasewhore]

Halloween Special - Bitten. 👻🕸️

pairing: Hyunjin x female reader

summary: your boyfriend bites you for the first time which causes him to go into a biting frenzy.

content: s!mut, biting, blood play, p in v, vampire Hyunjin

a/n: next up werewolf chan

Hyunjin is much like the moon. He comes and goes, sometimes it may be just a quick moment, much like a crescent or in your face and bright just a full moon but he always finds himself seeking comfort in the warmth of skin against his own.

It's been a month since he revealed his identity to you. He was hesitant at first, but you are no fool. If it wasn't his smooth pale skin and amber eyes that gave him away; it was definitely when you found him fangs deep inside a women's neck.

Ever since that day all he's thought about is you. The only person he could be his true self but truth be told he was smitten the moment he met you.

As he climbs through the window, a chilly breeze follows. Your body reacts almost instantly, small bumps forming against your skin as he closes it tightly.

Sound asleep you don't notice the new presence. It's usually like this, he sneaks in and curls into you. Morning comes before you realize he's there, the curtains pulled tightly to block the sunlight confirm his presence before your fingers find his hair.

But it's early - too early for him to be here. The sun just took its rest nearly minutes ago.

You look so cute. Silently sleeping, curled into the satin pillow. A pajama shirt with cherries, button down to reveal just enough of your round breast and matching shorts, your cute little pink panties pepping through. He sighs softly, just the sight makes Hyunjin hard.

Without a second thought he is spooning you from behind, rutting his semi hard cock against your ass.

"Petal, wake up beautiful." His voice is so soft as it whispers against your skin. "Missed you so much."

His hips grind against your clothed core as he lets out a pathetic whine. Needy and wanting attention as he kisses your lazy lips. "Babyyyy."

His lips against your neck are nothing new, pressing and sucking softly. Finally your eyes flutter, soft lashes tickling his skin. "Hi, Darlin'."

"Hi, you're here early. I was trying to stay up."

"Looked so cute sleeping." He grinds his hips once again before rolling to change the position. Hovering over you, eyes on yours with his sweet smirk. "Got me so hard."

The soft moan of his name is what makes him snap, pressing his mouth against your neck. He swore he wouldn't feed from you for the pure fact that he was afraid he would go too far but it's been days since he's last fed.

Hyunjin's fingers press into the fat of your hip, no doubt blanching the skin underneath as he moves his hard cock over your clothed clit once again. He closes his eyes, trying to concentrate on how good he's feeling but the pesky sound of blood running through your jugular makes his teeth retraction, popping out from his gums. He groans, your blood smells so good.

He can't think - you take over all his senses. Arousal seeps from you, the smell high in the air making him moan against your skin. "Darling, petal, god." He groans.

When his teeth puncture your skin it makes you yelp in surprise. He's never drank from you before, always going on about the consequences, etc. He always jokes about it when it comes up, claiming he's already too obsessed with you if he drinks your blood you'll have to marry and stay his forever.

But with his teeth buried in you, sucking softly as you fight against him, pushing against his chest to create some distance but you have nothing on his supernatural strength.

"Hyunjin!" You hiss, feeling the warmth of the blood trail that follows down your neck and into the valley of your breast, which your shirt was already split open from his wondering hands.

What you least expected was the warm coil that formed inside your stomach. Suddenly you feel hot, forehead burning and dizziness taking over at the loss of blood. The dark haired man never stopped moving his hips against your own - clit throbbing against the material of your pajama pants before the stimulation became too much. Finally the squirming of your orgaism breaks him from his trance.

"Fuck," forehead resting against your own as he breaths heavily, "Did you just come from that? You dirty, dirty girl."

Blushing under his stare but it's cut short as his tongue follows the trail of blood, licking the thick liquid, nimble fingers pushing your shirt sleeves over your shoulder and sliding it down the length of your arms before throwing it across the room.

He licks up the remaining, tongue finding the bud of your leg nipple and sucking softly. He pulls away and one hand cups the flesh gently, "Look at this, you're loving it baby girl, do you like me bittingyou? I'll bite you some more honey."

His teeth puncture the skin of your right tit, breaking the skin and suckling every ounce he can manage. There's something strange about it, it's painful but at the same time you have never felt such pleasure. The goosebumps are instant as you shiver underneath him.

"Are you okay baby?" His hand moving the hair from your forehead. To be honest, you're a little dizzy from the loss of blood but you nod in agreement. "I didn't take to much, right?"

"M okay." You mumble against the shell of his ear.

"Okay, honey. Can I put it in? I'm so hard." You nod in consent as his long fingers pull at your shorts.

He doesn't even need to warm you up. Between the stickiness of your last two orgasms and his own leaking wetness.

Hyunjin doesn't offer a warning, the sudden feeling of his heavy cock is a burning but pleasure able stretch that causes a shriek to rip through your swollen lips.

His eyes roll back into his head as your pussy pretty much sucks his cock up inch by inch. Two cold fingers tease the bundle of nerves and rub circular motions as he sinks every inch of his cock until he’s nestled so deep you feel him in your stomach. The delicious burn makes you lightheaded, so full of him it’s hard to form words.

You curses under your breath but he barely notices, eyes fixated on the filthy sight of him stuffed so deep inside you. Hips against hips as he tries to press the rest but the intrusion sends sparks up your spine. He stills, eyes finding yours for one last time before testing the waters with a deep, sensational thrust.

The squeal that falls from your lips is one of pleasure and pain but straight up sinful and he groans on his own accord as your cunt cleches around his throbbing cock.

"Such a tight pussy, honey. Did she miss me?"

It's more retoric as his hips snap faster and faster. Watching his fat cock disappearing and reappearing from your silky cunt over and over again. The sounds that fill the room are mixes of Hyunjins and yours followed by the slapping skin and squelches of your leaking juices. Pleasure tingles up his spine every time he hits that spot that makes your vision blur and drool gather at the corner of your lips.

"Pretty girl," he presses a gentle kiss against the corner of your lips. "So pretty."

Just like that, his legs begin to shake. Covered in your slick as your own body erupts with heat. Stomach aching with the familar feeling of incoming relief. With every push of his hips come deep, rough strokes that hit that spot that makes your stomach ache.

He loves the sounds you make, the quiet but beautiful moans. The way his name is whined and permanently on your tongue. His hips continue rolling as he watches your pussy drip into the sheets. It smears his abdomen, leaks down his thighs following the dripping blood from your neck.

Back arching off the mat, pushing him deeper inside of you, if that’s even possible. A hand rest against the small of your back giving him a better angle to continue to fuck you senseless. “Hyun! oh, so fucking good!“

Half crescent form from the pressure of his nails digging into the flesh of your hip as you whine. “I’m so close!”

The whine has him groaning with relief feeling his own balls tighten at the words. “Baby, I have to cum. Can I bite you, will you be okay?"

The smell of your blood is intoxicating as his teeth rub against the other side of your neck.

“Can I, baby?" He visibly chokes as another wave of heat warms his belly.

The moment his teeth break through your skin, your orgasm hits like a truck - clenching around him so hard that his hips sputter but he continues to drive his dock so deep inside of you that your legs begin to shake.

He hits a spot so deep and explodes, lining his thick ropes of cum into your pussy and stuffs you to the brink. There’s so much as it drips from where the two are still connected but he doesn’t dare move. He pulls away, blood smeared across his lips as he presses his wet lips to your cheek.

"You taste so good baby." But the moment he looks up, his eyes widen. Both his hands hold your cheeks to keep your head from falling back. Eyes hooded as the dizziness takes over you.

"Shit, Can you hear me? I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to take too much, you should have said something." He's frantically taking his wrist and breaking the skin with his teeth, "Drink, baby. I took too much."

"'m okay." You try with all your strength to push his arm away but he's not having it.

"Drink." Your lips wrap around his skin and suck softly to taste the metallic liquid. "Don't ever do that again, tell me if it's too much."

"Sorry, H." You snuggle yourself into his chest as he brings you closer.

He presses a gentle kiss against your forehead as he cleans the mix of blood and spit from your skin. "Go to sleep, angel. I will make you breakfast when you wake up. My blood will help but you need to rest."

"I'm okay."

"Stop being so stubborn and let me take care of you." He burries his head into your hair before pressing a kiss against the shell of your ear. "Goodnight, my love. Sweet dreams."

"Night, baby."

[phoward89]

Masterlist

Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Delulu!Coryo, obsession, manipulation, toxic relationship, cussing, slight smut (clit rubbing), etc

Chapter 6:

Coryo blinked his eyes open as the harsh morning sunlight streamed thru your bedroom window. Unlike his windows back in his family's Capitol penthouse, yours didn't have curtains. He groaned, not wanting to wake up just yet.

Looking down, he smiles as he takes in the sight of you curled into him. Your head’s still resting on his chest, using it as a pillow, while your arms are slung around him; your legs are entwined with his too. To him you look so ethereal, like a beautiful angel, as you slept clinging to him.

The platinum blonde peacekeeper felt like the luckiest man alive with you snug in his arms. Despite the turn that last night took between you (him pushing you a little too hard for your first time) he felt like this was the perfect morning after. Just watching you peacefully sleep in his arms, the early morning sun radiating brightness on your skin, was enough to bring a lopsided smile to his face.

Lazily, he ghosted his long, calloused fingers over your bare back. He traced his fingertips with a barely there touch up and down your spine, just watching you and waiting for you to stir. And eventually, you did stir.

Feeling a featherlight touch on your spine, you shiver and open your eyes. Looking up at Coryo, you groggily smile, “G’morning.”

“Good morning, beautiful.” Coryo smiled, pressing a kiss against your lips.

You've never been given a good morning wakeup kiss before, so naturally you blushed and smiled sillily into the kiss. A kiss which deepened fairly quickly due to Coryo's hunger for you.

And the boy was hungry for you all the time. He had a desire for you, like a starving man has for a meal. You're the water to the platinum peacekeeper's unquenchable thirst. You're the only thing to satisfy the longing in Coryo's dark soul because you're the sunshine to his dark days.

“Coryo, we need to get up.” You sighed, trying to push your boyfriend away from you as he planted kisses up and down your jawline while rubbing your ass with one of his large hands.

Pulling his lips from your jaw and looking at you, he seriously asked, “Can you be quiet?”

“Why?” You counter, hoping he wasn't alluding to sleeping together, again, this morning.

“I'll let you be on top, go your own pace.” Coryo tells you as his hand, that was on your ass, stopped rubbing it and slid between your legs to tease your folds.

“Coryo, it's morning. We should get up.” You protested, breath hitching as his middle finger slid up and down your folds, only to stop and teasingly rub your clit.

“As long as we're quiet we shouldn't get caught. Plus, your brother was drinking an awful lot last night; bet he's still asleep.”

“Rein always drinks, that's nothing new.” You told your boyfriend, causing him to frown.

“So your brother's a drunk?” Coriolanus rhetorically asked. Shaking his head, heavily sighed, “I don't like that, baby. Dunks don't have a good hold on their senses; what if he hurts you when he's 3 sheets to the wind?”

“He won't-” you began, only for him to interrupt you with a firm, “But what if he does, Y/N? There's always a first time when it comes to being drunk.”

Coryo knows first hand how getting drunk can impair and impact your judgment and senses. Hell, he lost his virginity to some random girl in an alleyway behind a club because of a drunken bet with Festus Creed. He was drunk off his ass on posca that night. But it did earn him a bit of a reputation; began his secret life of being a fuckboy too…

But anyways…

“Why don't you let me inquire about a place for us. One in the nice part of the district, close to the barracks?” Coryo suggests with a smile. His hand, that's not between your legs teasing you, gently cups your cheek as he hums out an assuring, “Hmm?”

“I dunno, Coryo.” You shakily said, feeling yourself grow wetter from his fingers teasing your folds.

“How bout if I find a nice place we'll check it out? Hmm, my darling rose?” Coryo suggested, softly stroking your cheekbone with the rough pad of his thumb.

You curiously raised a brow, “But I thought that Peacekeepers can't marry or live with a woman?”

“Privates can't, but I won't be one for long because I'm going to pass my Officer's Exam; I'm going to be able to give you the life that you deserve.” Coriolanus replied with such conviction, that his word had to be solid and true. With a charming smile, he adds, “Plus, for time being, I can head out of our place early and get to base before wakeup call.”

“This is all so sudden, Coryo.” You honestly told him, since you did feel like everything was happening out of the blue. As if you blinked and your entire life just changed.

The platinum blonde in your bed didn't like hearing that. In fact, it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. It concerned him; made him afraid that you'd push him away. What if last night had anything to do with your thinking? Oh, Coriolanus knew that he had a lot of damage control to do when it came to you.

He couldn't lose you. Not now. So, he had to lay the charm on thick.

Removing his hand from between your thighs and using it to run soothing circles on your lower back, Coryo told you with an unnatural gentleness in his rough baritone, “Baby, are you leery of being serious with me because I got a bit carried away last night? And be honest with me, okay?”

“No.” You shook your head, causing Coriolanus let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

His eyes bore into yours, looking for an explanation to why you're hesitant on him finding the two of you a place. You knew you needed to give him an answer to why you're hesitant about it, but you're not sure if your explanation would make sense to him. So, you worry your lip and try to find the right words to say.

Using his thumb to pull your bottom lip free from your teeth, he lightly scolded, “Don't bite your lip, baby.” Soothingly rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, Coryo implored, “Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it.”

He was secretly hoping that you're being honest about not being freaked out bout last night's rough fucking. He still thinks he has a lot of charm and damage control to lay on you for that.

“It's just…” You sigh, only to carry on with your explanation of, “One day we’re friends, the next I'm your girl, and now you're talking ‘bout getting our own place.” Shaking your head, you admit the truth of your situation. “It just seems fast, you know, since it's all happening within like a week of meeting.”

And there it is. You're afraid of how this looks. Probably because you're a poor district girl and he's a peacekeeper. Coriolanus isn't dumb, he knows that district citizens hate peacekeepers; look down on relationships between district girls and peacekeepers.

“But we've got love at first sight on our side, darling.” Coryo tells you in the most loving tone he can muster. Bringing his forehead to rest against yours, he swears, “What we have other people would kill for. Love at first sight’s very special and I'll be damned if I let district social rules keep us apart.” His hands lovingly caresses your cheeks as he declares with a twinkle in his baby blues, “I love you and I'm going to take good care of you, Y/N, no matter what.”

That love declaration took you aback. You honestly weren't expecting it, but it did touch your heart. Even if he loves you more than you love him right now (you really like him a lot, but you're still on the fence post about whether or not you love him), you're willing to give him a chance. Coryo loves you so much, after just a few meetings, that he swears to take care of you.

That's not something to take lightly, especially in the hard scrapple district of 12.

A man willing to take care of his girl, no matter who he is or what he does, is a huge declaration of love and devotion. Or at least it is in the poverty outlying districts. And it's a sure sign that the man's a keeper.

So, despite Coryo being a peacekeeper from the Capitol, in your books he's a keeper.

“I love you too, Coryo. And I'll let you take care of me.” You replied with a smile, because you couldn't afford to lose him. Not when everything you've been raised to believe is screaming at you that your boyfriend's a good man; a man that you need in your life.

“So, you agree to me finding us a place then?” Coryo asked, testing you to see if you'd truly let him take care of you or not.

What did you have to lose? You live in a glorified wooden shack with your miner brother that drinks too much and his barmaid girlfriend. You got fired from your job and so far no other shopkeepers are willing to hire you either. Coryo's certain that he'll pass his Officer's Exam, will be sent to a nicer district to train and serve. And since he promised to take care of you always, he'd surely bring you to a nicer district.

Right?

So, although his love seems all consuming and a bit suffocating, it's also redemptive in a way- in a way that'll give you a better life then the hum drum and depressing one you currently have.

So, you nod and tell Coryo, “Yes, you can find us a place.”

“Good to hear, baby.” Coryo grins triumphantly before kissing you.

But before the kiss has a chance to turn heated, Ashlie's voice calls out from the kitchen with, “Y/N, wake up! I need help with breakfast!”

“Damnit, she would be up.” Coriolanus grumbled under his breath. He knew that he couldn't fuck you this morning, not with your sister-in-law up and wanting your help with breakfast. It'd be too risky; you'd be caught for sure.

“I’ll be right there!” You called back before flinging the blanket off and untangling yourself from Coryo.

When you looked down and saw the blood on the sheet paired with the dried crimson on both your thighs and Coryo's cock you froze. Your eyes blinked and you just stared at it. The reality of what happened last night hits you full force like a freight train from 6.

Coryo quickly realizes what's got you zoning out, so he sits up and cups your cheeks- making you look into his crystal clear blue eyes. “Y/N, it's okay. The blood’s normal for a virgin’s first time.” He assured you in a gentle tone. “Don't be scared, everything's fine, darling.”

“Everything's not fine, Coryo. I'm going to get in so much trouble come laundry day…”

“Okay, how bout we hide the sheet in your closet and clean it ourselves? Hmm?”

“We don't have a bath or a shower, Coryo. There's going to be a bloody washcloth as evidence too.”

“Jesus…you don't have a fucking shower?” Coriolanus couldn't believe this. It's worse than he thought. You live in fucking squalor. Oh, he definitely needs to get you out of this shithole.

No future First Lady of his is living like a fucking peasent. Not when he can help it.

Damn, even he had a shower back in the Capitol and his family didn't have a pot to piss in.

“No.” You shook your head.

“Listen to me, darling.” Coryo orders before telling you the details of his sudden plan, “You stay right here and I'll grab a wet cloth from the bathroom, then I'll clean us both up. After we get dressed, you'll go help Ashlie with breakfast and I'll strip the bed- hide the sheets and the washcloth in your closet and put clean sheets on before joining you in the kitchen.”

“Okay.” You nod, causing Coryo to get out of bed and put on his boxers before going to the bathroom to grab a washcloth in order to set your plan in motion.

“Morning, Y/N, did you sleep well?” Ashlie asked as you stepped into the kitchen. Your hair, much to Coryo's urging, was placed over your shoulders to hide the love bite he left on your neck last night. You hope that it's not noticeable to Ashlie, because that'd just be embarrassing to have to explain.

But unknown to you, Ashlie heard everything-

EVERYTHING-

last night because, despite telling you to shut up, Coriolanus wasn't quiet at all. In fact he was loud and the bed banging against the thin wall was loud too.

So Ashlie knows what happened last night, or at least she has a good idea of what happened.

“I'm making oatmeal.” Ashlie told you, stirring a gloopy mixture of bland oats and a few days old goats milk in the cookpot. Gesturing to a steaming tin mug, she said, “I made you some morning tea.”

“But I usually have chicory coffee.” You replied, eying the tea warily since you never had tea in the house. In fact, the only one that drank tea was Ashlie, but it wasn't tea per say but a bunch of bitter dry herbs that she'd have the neighbor girl, Lucy Gray of the Covey, pick for her in the forest.

And, frankly, after what Coryo told you about Lucy Gray you doubt that he'd be pleased about you drinking anything that she picked. He doesn't want you around her, so…

“But with the shape your brother's in, and how he has a shift later tonight at the mines, he needs all the coffee he can get to sober up.” Ashlie said as a way to get you to accept that bitter herb tea she made for you. Oh and how she desperately wanted (no needed) you to drink that tea.

Turning your head, you saw your brother slouched in his sitting chair. He's still wearing his clothes from last night and he's got dried drool on one side of his face. His Seam grey eyes are glassy and bloodshot- a sure sign of a hangover. A tin mug full of chicory coffee is in one of his hands while his other is pressed against his temple in a vain attempt to alleviate his hangover headache.

Turning back to Ashlie, you say, “Yes, I suppose he does need the coffee.”, while reaching for your mug of tea.

Ashlie decides that now's the time to confront you about last night, while Coriolanus is still in your room. So, she grabs your wrist and pulls you close to her, all the while stirring the cookpot, and whispers into your ear, “You know what that peacekeeper did to you last night wasn't right.”

Before you could even bring the mug up to your lips, you go into shock at the brunette's words. Why would she say that to you? Oh my goodness, did she hear something last night?

Confirming your inner thoughts, Ashlie softly said, “The walls are thin; I heard everything he said and did to you, sweetheart.” Giving you a pitiful look, she added in, “You don't have to put up with that. You're a sweet girl and you deserve better than some peacekeeper that views you as an easy piece of ass he can do anything with.”

Her words hurt you, but they also made you mad. How dare she assume that Coryo was taking advantage of you last night. You agreed to fuck him. Yes, he pushed a bit hard towards the end, but you agreed to be with him.

Slamming down the tea mug, causing some of the hot liquid to slosh over the rim, you snapped, “What happened last night between me and Coryo is none of your business. I agreed to fuck him; he didn't make me do anything.” Snatching your wrist out of her grip, you turned on the kitchen sink and ran your hand under the tap, to cool the sting of the hot tea that split onto the hand holding the mug. “He pushed me a bit hard for my first time, but we talked about it, like a couple does, and everything's fine.”

“Y/N, he's not a good man. The things I heard him say last night…good men don't say those things to their girlfriends.” Ashlie told you, quiet enough so that your brother couldn't hear her, in a vain attempt to get you to see how much of a selfish lover Coryo was. Or at least that's how she viewed him.

You on the other hand viewed Coryo as a good boyfriend, as somebody that loved you a lot and quickly. To you he was very devoted.

You didn't know that his love and devotion was actually a sick obsession that was also possessive, but you don't need to worry about that small, minor detail.

To-may-to, to-mah-to, right?

“Why don't you worry about my drunk brother and keep your nose out of my relationship.” You harshly hissed at Ashlie, sounding so unlike yourself, right as Coryo entered the kitchen.

Looking between your hand under the running tap and Ashlie, who he didn't like solely because she was giving him a dirty look, he asked, “Is everything alright in here, babygirl?”

“I accidentally spilled some hot tea on my hand when I set my mug down.” You told Coryo while turning off the tap and patting your hand dry with a hand towel.

Coryo knew that wasn't the only thing that occured in the kitchen, but he needed to get you out of the house to ask what you and that ratty whore from the Hobb talked about while he was cleaning up your bed.

Walking up to you, he placed a gentle hand on your back and ordered in a suggestive tone, “Darling, let's go to the Mellark Bakery.”

“The bakery? But I'm making breakfast!” Ashlie exclaimed in an exasperated protest.

A cruel smirk appeared on the platinum peacekeeper’s angular face as he told her, “I promised my baby that I'd take her to the bakery today and I'm a man of my word.” Turning to you with a look of love and adoration, Coryo simply said, “Come along, Y/N.”, while leading you out of the kitchen.

Ashlie was appalled with the way Coryo was treating you. She was also appalled that you're just letting him do it too.

“Where ya goin’?” Rein asked, his voice scratchy and heavy with last night's booze, as you and Coryo walked by his sitting chair.

“Coryo's taking me to the Mellark Bakery for breakfast.” You answered your brother while Ashlie stared at the scene.

Oh how Ashlie was so pissed at Rein. If only your brother wasn't hungover right now. If he was sober he'd stop Private Snow from taking you out of the house.

“Just don't break any bread over the hearth; I ain't having that in my family.” Your brother seriously told you, pointing his coffee cup at your boyfriend. Truthfully, the thought of you marrying a peacekeeper terrified your brother whether he was sober, drunk, or hungover.

You're too much like your mother for your own good. Rein can't handle it. It's deja vu. Like history repeating itself all over again and he'll be damned if he sits back and watches you pick a peacekeeper over your own kind, the citizens of District 12.

“We won't.” You promised before walking out the door with Coryo.

As soon as you're on the front porch, Coryo asks, “What'd he mean by breaking bread over the hearth?”

“It's how people in 12 get married. It's called a toasting; you share a loaf of bread over a fire you stoke.”

“That's an odd way of getting married.” Coryo remarked as you walked down the porch steps.

Honestly, he viewed it to be a bit primal and uncivilized. In the Capitol couples have large ceremonies (modest if they're middle class or low class), exchange vows, and have a lovely reception only to follow it up with a honeymoon. The thought of being declared married due to breaking bread in front of a hearth was baffling. It proves to Coriolanus that the Districts are below the Capitol.

Well, thankfully he'll be dragging you back to the Capitol for a proper wedding ceremony. It'd be a cold day in hell before he had a toasting.

“Yea, but it's how things are done around here.” You tell him, linking arms with him and starting down the street.

Coryo just nods, accepting your remark. He has other matters to get to the bottom of this morning; debating the classless way 12 holds a marriage ceremony isn't that important. Not compared to what he needs to get aired out.

“What did I really walk into when I entered the kitchen? And don't tell me it was just you running tap water over your hand.”

Great, he would pick up that something was wrong. You didn't want to tell him, since you found it to be embarrassing, but you also had a feeling that he wouldn't like it very much if you lied to him.

So, despite being embarrassed, you told him the truth. “Ashlie overheard us last night; she decided to talk to me about it.”

“Jesus…” Coryo trails off in disbelief. You're 18, the time for that talk has come and gone in his opinion. Hell, he knows for a fact that girls in the districts are marrying and popping out babies pretty young in the Districts- like 15, 16 young. “She was giving you a sex talk? Damn, that's embarrassing.” Your boyfriend chuckles, hoping to lighten up the awkward subject.

“No,” You shook your head, “she was giving me a he’s not good enough for you and you shouldn't have fucked him talk.”

“Fucking ratty whore…” Coriolanus lowly muttered under his breath, jaw clenched tightly in anger.

How dare that dumb district whore say such things to you? Trying to turn you against him when he's the best goddamn thing to happen to you.

Coryo took his free hand and patted your arm the was linked with his, all the while assuring you, “Don't pay Ashlie any mind, she doesn't understand what we have and what we feel for each other.” Leaning his head down to press a comforting kiss to your temple, he told you, “I love you, baby, and I'm always going to love you. Don't let some bitter barmaid whose biological clock's ticking tell you otherwise.”

Before you could say anything to Coryo, you heard a commotion and turned your head in the direction the ruckus was coming from only to see a pair of on duty Peacekeepers dragging Arlo Chance out of the house he shared with Lil and Spruce. And talk about Lil, she was screaming hysterically while chasing after them, screaming and crying: “He didn't do nothing! Let him go, he didn't do nothing!”

Coryo looks between you and the scene unfolding at your neighbor's shack. “Do you know them?” He asks, hoping that you didn't. You knowing criminals is worse than you knowing the Covey in his books. Uh, maybe they're neck and neck. Who knows…

“The man being dragged away’s Arlo Chance, he works in the mines with my brother; he's around his age too, and the girl's Lil. She's Arlo's girlfriend; they live with her brother.”

“Are you friends with Lil?” Your platinum peacekeeper, casually dressed in an oversized white tee and his issued denim pants, asked. He put a light, curious tone in his question, even tho he was hoping that you're not friends with a girl who's man is a criminal.

And in Coriolanus' eyes Arlo Chance is a criminal because his fellow peacekeepers wouldn't just cart him away if he didn't do anything. He knew that the seasoned squads were on a manhunt for whoever blew up a mine earlier in the week. Now he has a hunch about who the culprit was in that.

“I'm friends with Lil, but she's a bit closer to Ashlie since their men are miners.” You admit to Coryo.

“Oh, I see.” Coryo nods studiously while dragging you swiftly down the street. “Well, I advise you not to be so friendly with her anymore since that man of hers is under arrest for the mine bombing that happened the other day.”

“What?! Arlo blew up the mine!?” You shrieked, eyes wide with shock.

Coriolanus internally groaned at your reaction. He wanted to tell you to shut up, but he didn't want to risk you getting upset. Not after last night. He needs to give you some time to get comfortable with him and his overbearing affections before he can scold you.

“Yes, darling, that's my understanding, so I advise you to stay away from Lil unless you want to be labeled a rebel.” Was the order, disguised as a suggestion, that your boyfriend gave you: his baritone curt and cold as ice.

“But Lil lives a few houses away; she comes over to visit often.”

“Then I suppose this is the reason you need to let me find us a place.” Coryo firmly said, a dead serious look shining in his crystal blue eyes.

Coriolanus kept a keen eye open for any for rent signs in apartment windows while walking to the Mellark Bakery with you. The sooner he got you out of that hellhole you called home the better. Honestly, he needed you alone in your own apartment so that he could condition you; turn you into the perfect Capitolite wife. Despite you being District, you're the kindest, warmest, purest soul he's ever met and he's sure that with the right etiquette training and rhetoric lessons that he'll be able to make you acceptable to proper society- because he can't have people turning their nose up at your District origins.

And if they do, well, he'd probably kill them for daring to speak a word against you.

Yea…

He's got it bad for you.

And of course, the townsfolk stared at you while you walked with your boyfriend. Tongues waggled too. All kinds of things were whispered about you and the platinum peacekeeper, but one thing kept coming up between a few folks of a certain age.

Your mother and your father; how the apple don't fall far from the tree.

“Here we are, darling.” Coryo announced with a smile, his pearly whites shining brighter than his T-shirt, as you approached the bakery. “Now, remember, you can order anything you want, baby.” Your boyfriend smiled while opening up the door to the shop and subtly pushing you inside of the brick building

You could see racks of bread cooling as soon as you entered the bakery. And when your eyes landed on the displays of various pastries, your mouth began to water. The delicious smell wafting throughout the bakery also had your senses on overdrive. You've never been in the Mellark Bakery before, never having enough money to do so, so you're in awe of all the baked goods in the store.

Coryo has his hand on the small of your back while guiding you over to the display case full of various baked goods. “Let's see what they got, shall we, baby?” He suggested with his large, Cheshire cat like grin.

“Okay.” You nod, smiling excitedly. You still can't believe that you're in the bakery; can order anything you want too.

The baker's wife is behind the counter, eying you and Coryo up uneasily. She's used to peacekeepers coming in, but she doesn't like those from the Seam. And, well, to have a handsome peacekeeper with a Seam girl- nothing but a poor wretch of a girl- eying up her display case and sweetly discussing the various pastires disgusted her.

Mrs. Mellark didn't want to service you, because of your Seam residency, but she has no choice but to smile and politely ask how she could help because you're with Coryo, an off duty peacekeeper. It killed the merchant deep inside her soul to do that too.

Coryo ordered you both a chocolate croissant and black coffee with sugar. Mrs. Mellark quickly made up your order and gave it to him. She gave Coryo a discount, like she did all peacekeepers (as a sort of bribe to keep them coming back for more baked goods on their days off) and thanked him with a big, but fake smile as he dismissively told her to keep the change (it was only a few measley pennies anyways).

Coryo and you ended up sitting on a bench in the town square, eating your pastries and drinking your coffee while talking about the tiniest things.

“Are you enjoying your pain au chocolat, baby?” Coryo asked with a genuine smile from ear to ear while watching you scarl down your pastry.

“Yes.” You reply before taking another bite. “Is that what chocolate filled croissants are called in the. Capitol? Pain au chocolate?” You ask, wondering about the term he used to inquire about your like of the sweet pastry.

“Yes.” Coryo nodded, sipping on his coffee. “And in the Capitol our coffee would be called sweetened black instead of black with sugar.”

“The Capitol has pleasant sounding names for things, doesn't it.” You stated although it sounds more like a question.

“It does.” Coryo agreed with manic smile. “Perhaps we'll be able to go back there on day.” He proposed before taking a precise and gentlemanly bite out of his croissant.

You knew his remark was just wishful thinking since Coryo was from the Capitol. You knew, as much as he did, that he'd never return to the Capitol; that he'll never take you there either. But it's nice to have hopes and dreams; you can't fault him for that.

So, being too kind for your own good, you give your boyfriend a smile and say, “Perhaps we will, Coryo.”

But only if you knew that Coriolanus Snow took your words very seriously and to heart. That by telling him that you just signed up for a one way ticket to the Capitol whether you liked it or not. Coryo’s taking you back with him when he's able to return; he's also making you Mrs. Snow and his First Lady. He's going to be making you the mother of his children (who, of course, will be heirs to one of the mightiest families in all of Capitol society) and he knows deep in his bones that you'll be a picture perfect mom- nurturing, gentle, soft. And since you'll be a picture perfect mom you'll also be a picture perfect wife.

If only you knew that Coriolanus Snow's a cunning, devious snake of a man that'll do anything to get what he wants. And what he wants is a life in the Capitol as filthy rich politician- no as President of Panem- with you by his side til you're old and grey; parted by nothing but death.

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

[solarpunkani]

what are some things we can do to make the world better?

Gosh, this is a big question. It's also definitely something that's been on my mind for a long, long time. I mean, honestly, how could it not be?

I'm not gonna be able to provide any revolutionary, mind bending answers on this. I'm honestly something more akin to a coward, if anything--I'm not gonna be able to recommend going to protests or rebel action without being a huge hypocrite.

I guess what I did is pick a couple of topics to try my best to learn as much about as possible, so I can know what I can do to help, and then try to do as much of that stuff as possible. So in my case right now its gardening. I basically went 'oh? Butterflies and bees and pollinators are at risk due to habitat loss? Is there anything I can do about it?' Learned about what I could do about it (start a garden, grow certain plants, avoid certain practices like using pesticides and herbicides in said garden, etc.), and then did as much of that stuff as is reasonable for me. And then I also shared what I was doing with other people, and encouraged and helped them do it too if they're interested.

Is my rinky dink mismatched chaotic pollinator garden changing the world? Making the whole entire place better? Not necessarily. Maybe it's making the world a bit better for the pollinators that stop by though, and if I can convince more and more people to start pollinator gardens then it can help more pollinators. I bounced off from pollinator gardening to grow vegetables too, which I can then share with my community (donating to food banks/community fridges, or just offering some to the neighbors) which can definitely help as well.

You can use this process in other aspects too. Monarchs and milkweeds is what caught my eye and drew me to pollinator gardening, but maybe it just doesn't hit for you. Maybe you're more interested in fish, or ecosystems in rivers and streams. You can look into ways to help, and maybe then you'll get into cleaning riverbanks and such. Or maybe you're moreso interested in something like food scarcity and food deserts, and you can then launch into making community gardens or a system of community fridges and harrassing legislators calling your local representatives to back initiatives that will help. I think asking yourself 'what can I do about abcxyz', learning about it, and then doing what you can is definitely a good place to start. And maybe what you learn will lead you to going to things like protests and doing rebellious actions--in which case that's fantastic! The world needs a lot more people who are a lot braver than the woman behind this Tumblr curtain. Or maybe it won't--and that's okay too. We can do what we can together.

Will you change the entire world? Make the whole world better? Probably not, and I probably won't either. I don't think one person alone can change the world. But we can improve the worlds of a few creatures in a local area, or make the world better for people in our communities. And I think that's at least worth an effort.

If anyone else wants to chime in, by all means feel free! And if my advice sucks I'm sorry.

[t1oui]

thinking about how living w regulus would affect harry like

he's such a fucking snob about everything. food, decor, fashion, you name it, he's got opinions on it.

he does ballet despite being the least graceful person on the planet. he's somehow pretty good at it, likely out of spite

speaks french

very much a cat person, has a cat named leo who is his baby

like yk how james and sirius are extremely codependent? that's how harry is w leo. both of them can not handle being apart from each other too long

reads a lot of stories

thinks seeker is the best quidditch position

on that note, lots of slytherin house pride. james hates it. harry refuses to put any gryffindor decorations up in his room

harry loves taking pictures just like reg so the house is filled with photographs

and ofc harry is snobby about what types of cameras he uses thanks to reg. james now just lets them deal with the cameras & photography stuff bc he's scared to get the wrong thing lol

harry is taller than reg but bc dysphoria all of reg's old clothes (like quidditch jerseys + hoodies and stuff) are his size so half his wardrobe is from reg's hogwarts days

definitely the type of guy to change his bedding & curtains & everything in his room based on the season. will anybody actually be in there other than him and his parents? not really, but he MUST redecorate

idk what this even means but snobby about candles. this is another thing james is scared to buy him

harry and reg speak french w each other more than english

since james doesn't speak french w harry (i hc he's only comfortable speaking it w reg) harry is used to having a conversation in two different languages so sometimes he'll be speaking french w his friends without noticing

he'll be in the middle of a rant and realize they don't understand a thing he's saying lol

reg and harry control the decorating for every holiday, every birthday, etc.

the one thing harry knows how to do that reg doesn't/reg didn't teach him is cooking. reg never cooked for himself as a child so james was the one who taught him

doesn't look like it most of the time but all of harry's clothes are very expensive... did i mention he's a snob

harry is such a dry texter/writer... he's such a dick about grammar when it comes to writing even tho he can barely string a sentence together when speaking

deeply sarcastic (look! a canon detail! we never thought we'd see that on this account, did we?)

will take his partners on the most expensive dates & whatnot like it's nothing... cedric the farmboy™️ is not prepared

writes sad boy poetry when he gets annoyed w someone... like harry will storm off all pissed and then he comes back 20 mins later with a beautifully written, very angry poem for whoever made him mad

has so many clothes & different curtains and bedding sets for different seasons that he also uses the closet in the guest room (reg takes up 99% of his and james's closet for the same reason)

has an inherent hatred of fake plants

bedroom is simultaneously tidy and so messy a hurricane might as well have come through

leaves a book behind everywhere he goes

secretly the worst sense of humor lmao

he may not have gotten his love of drawing/painting from regulus, but you def see reg in the way he is, you guessed it, a massive snob about art supplies

soooo indecisive. redoes his room at least twice a year

an asshole when he gets less than 10 hours of sleep... he's mildly tolerable after 3 cups of coffee (black, of course) but you might as well just ignore him until he gets a nap in

on that note is very good at making coffee and is, drum roll please, a massive snob about it. who would've guessed (somebody count how many times i've said snob in this post and comment it please and thank you)

if he doesn't like a gift he's horrible at pretending he's happy w it so people usually go through reg whenever they buy him something... this goes both ways too, people go through harry when buying something for reg

is visually james and lily's but in personality is really just reg's (and also lily's... he definitely inherited his spite from her lol)

is a crazy cat lady by age 20

at least 10 pictures of leo in his room... he has whole photoshoots for her and she poses for them

might as well not hang out w harry at his house bc he'll make out with his cat the whole time

loves going to art museums w regulus

he's a, surprise surprise, snob about art. james just doesn't comment on art altogether atp

his vocabulary is a weird mashup of french, english, and hindi that makes it very hard for anybody who doesn't know him well to understand what he's saying lol

looks angry until he smiles (he got this from lily but a life with reg has perfected it)

needs a golden retriever to his black cat in any given relationship (enter cedric and cho) (yes i'm going to push my rarepair on everyone reading this)

tl;dr being raised by/living w regulus has turned harry into a massive snob about literally everything and regulus is proud of it (blink twice if you need help, james)

[glassladyoftheopera]

In Stars and Time But It's a Musical (Part 1)

Okay hi I need to tell you all about this concept.

First off all I just need to say credit to @openphrase123 for the amazing 'ISAT but as a ballet' posts (here and also here and there definitely more but those are some of the big ones) which definitely inspired some choices here and in general inspired me to do this.

So basically I'm a big old musical theater person (and specifically musician / singer) so I've been fleshing out concepts for a what a musical re-telling of In Stars and Time might look like. I'm honestly not going to get into like... the logistics of how you could actually do it, because even with condensing a lot of things Musicals aren't typically long enough to tell this kind of story, so we're just... ignoring that when I don't have ideas to get around it.

We will start with all of the main characters, their voice types, and their characteristic musical styles!

Mirabelle Mira is our soprano, but mostly her singing and music is very much in the style of Disney Renaissance musicals. Think Belle, Ariel, Hercules, etc. I think it fits her up beat but still sometimes anxious personality. Near the end of each King Fight she gets a cool high notes as she finally has some true confidence in herself!

Bonnie Bonnie would be played by a younger performer with an unchanged voice. This wouldn't really be a dance heavy show, but when there is dancing they would take the lead b/c that's cute. In terms of their singing though it's mostly inspired by classic kid characters from Broadway, namely Annie, The Artful Dodger, and Matilda (especially for their more emotionally intense moments). Their music isn't as difficult, and in group numbers they typically sing the melody with at least one other person.

Odile Odile is the alto of the quintet. It helps her sound more mature than Mirabelle and fits her vibe of not taking on the flashy role. Her music leans a bit more classical, almost Gilbert and Sullivan-esque in her more playful moments. Overall though it tends to be a bit more melodically challenging, but not super fast or syncopated. There would be melodic and instrumental flourishes in her music unique to her that are basically 'Ka Buan' musical elements.

Isabeau Leading man baritone! His style also fairly standard musical theater, but leans a touch more modern in it's styling to accommodate his more emotionally open vibe. He'll have the pop-inspired rhythms and chord progressions, but in group numbers he's the rock solid bass part holding everything together.

Siffrin Siffrin... does not sing almost ever for the first chunk of the show outside of group numbers. He's a tenor, and helps fill out the harmonies, but the impression the audience should get at the start is that they aren't really a soloist. As the loops go on, they gain a bit more confidence, taking bits and pieces of all of the other character's musical / singing styles as they go on. They don't get a full length solo to themselves until Mal du Pays. But the character that most influences their style is...

Loop Loop is full on Broadway Jazz, baby! Syncopated rhythms, brassy sound, fast patter lyrics, the whole shebang. Don't look behind the curtain at what all that glitter might be hiding, stardust~

The King Super bass, in the tradition of opera villains usually being basses. At first the only super stand out thing about his singing is that his range is so distinct, but in later encounters he gets both more delicate moments and moments where the true power of his voice to intimidate comes through.

(Also yes all of the Forgotten Island peeps will have a few musical elements in common to set them apart don't you even worry we'll get to it :3)

Euphrasie The Head Housemaiden has a short little mini song she does for the first bit of her speech. It's simple and catchy. Every time it transitions into her final speech as the musical motifs are distorted.

Dormont The people of Dormont sing mostly in a grand opening number ala the opening numbers for Beauty and the Beast, Fiddler on the Roof, The Music Man, etc. Little bits and pieces of the song come back in various combos and Sif loops and jumps around asking people new things. They would also double as disembodied voices for certain musical numbers that could use extra voices for full out harmony, dramatic effect, etc.

More will be coming soon, so I hope you enjoyed my ramblings.

[noneorother]

There's a *puppet* show going on in the magic shop, and it looks awfully familiar...

(Insert unhealthy number of rewatches here) The magic shop in S2 is a real jewel box. There's so much symbolism and so many easter eggs, it starts to make your head spin. But I found something really weird going on with the puppets (or should I say angels) in the background...

Here's 1941 : you can see on the left what looks like closed red curtains, and a coatrack with puppets behind Crowley here.

Where am I going with this? Well, don't those puppets look familiar?

For my money, they really look like silly versions of Crowley and Aziraphale, with a few other familiar puppets hiding on the other side of the rack.

Now here's that exact same shot in the present. The red curtain falls away to reveal: An extremely symmetrical arrangement of truly weird puppets. The puppet in the glass case near the back is the same.*

It probably just looks like a creepy display, with our familiar Aziraphale and Crowley puppets, until I do this:

To me at least, this arrangement really looks like a depiction of a synaxis of the hosts of bodiless powers (i.e. angels) before Jesus. If you study European art history, you can't escape medieval religious iconography. It's kind of a big deal. I've put this example of Mary flanked by the nine ranks of Angels from a Cathedral in Exeter above, but you can find 100 examples of this kind of eerily symmetrical and hierarchical ranking of angels with god, Jesus, Mary etc... Before I break it down, you have to know that in the medieval period, and especially in religious art and iconography, the relative size and position of figures is WAY more important than realism or accuracy.

Obviously the costumes don't match one to one, but you get enough of a vibe that once you start seeing it you can't UNSEE it. The relationships of position and size here are fascinating to me. For one, what the hell are two Crowleys doing in a host arrangement in present day? He's not even an angel. In the second row we have archangels Gabriel, the flopsy twins Uriel and Michael, and a slightly larger Saraqael head in the center. Is Saraqael actually more important here? Technically Jim is still an archangel, so he gets the mirror of the Gabriel position, but as a sad clown wearing a tartan blanket. We also have two tiny dolls (not puppets) with star name tags, one keeled over wearing brown, and one sitting up and smiling, wearing blue. I've named them tentatively Adam & Jesus for now, because that's the vibe I'm getting, but who knows. Here's the usual position of the Jesus in a synaxis for comparison.

In the lowest row, we bizarrely have arguably the most powerful angel, The Metatron (shown here with a dark floppy overcoat hiding the fact the doll has no body) and what I can only imagine is Maggie with blonde hair and blue eyes? What? Now, the doll I'm calling God in the middle for the large size, and the fact their head is always cut off above the framing in the shot. God is clearly looming large over the rest of the host, but is in a lower hierarchy (with Muriel, Crowley & Aziraphale being fairly low ranking at this point in the show) and also has NO HANDS, a clown face and BLOOD SMEARS on their overalls. Yikes. If you take a look at the top-down shot of the dolls, you can see how they had to completely redo the god-doll's hair. This is a specific vintage English doll called "Bimbo the clown". You can see the original hair always has a fringe, and the yarn locks are usually much bigger. Compare with the new hair in the top view of the present-day shop.

Hey. Does that hair style look familiar to anyone?

Look. I don't want to go claiming something THIS insane from one doll's hairstyle in a background shot. I'm not trying to convince you this is irrefutable proof that there's some sort of storyline where Nina is actually God. But it's interesting they took the trouble to re-make the doll's hair (and costume) to look like Nina's, even when it is almost never seen, much less noticed. The fact that the god-doll is also a clown got me thinking of the Gabriel and Jim dolls, and that maybe there's another doll in the shop that should double with Bimbo? *Here's the only other doll with a name card in the magic shop in either time, the one in the glass case :

Even though we barely see it, we can tell it's wearing the same outfit as the 1941 magician. Why? If this one is the equivalent of the real god, and not the sad clown version, and if it's locked up in a box somewhere, unable to free themselves, is that why we haven't heard from them in season 2....? So many questions. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Thanks to @kimberleyjean and @embracing-the-ineffable for additional pictures.

[littlxpxtal]

Sex, Drugs, Etc.

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence WORD COUNT: 2.1K

Everywhere I go, I know that I don't wanna be

Part of something I won't ever need

Your socialized, romanticized life

November Cont.

“Rafe ‘m really not in the mood to play your games. I just had to break up a fight and my house is a fuckin’ mess.” I mumble before opening the downstairs door. I hear him following behind me down the stairs as I make my way to my room. I walk over to the patio doors, pulling the curtains closed.

“I didn’t say you could stay,” I say as I sit on my chair in front of my vanity starting to take my jewelry off. He makes himself at home on the edge of my bed picking up one of the stuffed animals nearest to him. 

“You need to lighten up,” he says, inspecting the stuffed cat with big blue eyes. 

I finish taking off my earrings and placing them onto the ceramic plate in front of me. I stand up and make my way over to him, ripping the stuffed animal out of his hands and tossing it to the other side of the bed.

He reaches out to grab my waist, pulling me in between his legs. I stumble forward, placing my hands on his chest, feeling his firm muscles under my hands. Warmth rushes through my legs and up my thighs at the sensation of his hands squeezing my sides and our close proximity. 

He plays with the crystal tassels on my dress, his hand creeping slowly underneath them.

“Rafe” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut as his fingers graze the inside of my thigh.

“Tell me to stop,” he says, his other hand moving to grab my ass. I bite my bottom lip unsure of what my next response should be. I know sleeping with Rafe would be so wrong, but I would be lying to myself if I didn’t think he was the hottest guy in Kildare. 

I wouldn’t be the only girl to think so, and I wouldn’t be the only girl to fall for his tricks. 

“You’re just messin’ with me” I finally say through an exhale. My hands are still placed on his chest but I feel the urge to run them through his hair as he’s sitting before me. His bangs have fallen in front of his face and he looks up at me through his dark lashes. 

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and traces his fingers over my panty line, his other hand still firmly grasping my ass.

“I told you, you looked good didn’t I?” he asks. I try to read his face, to see if this is some kind of sick joke he’s trying to pull. I quickly glance behind me as if there’s someone with a camera hiding in my closet, ready to expose me.

“No one’s here,” he murmurs, pulling me closer so my stomach is pressed against his chest, My hands raise to his shoulders and I feel my breathing become heavy and rapid. 

“‘M so confused I thought you hated me?” I ask, trailing my fingers along his neck, still fighting the urge to touch his hair. He’s looking up at me intently, chin gently resting on my chest.

“I could never hate you,” he responds plainly. The silence between us lingers for a few seconds as I contemplate what my next move is.

“You act like it. You were just berating me like ten minutes ago” I decide to respond, curious as to what he could say next.

“Why don’t you let me show you how much I don’t hate you.” 

I decided I wasn’t going to let Rafe feel like he was in control of the situation. I swing my right leg around him, pushing him down onto my bed, my face hovering over his. His hands readjust on my hips pushing my crotch down against his, and I feel his hard bludge throbbing through his pants against the thin fabric of my dress.

“Holy shit,” I mumble, holding eye contact as his face remains unreadable. 

“Told you,” he whispers before reaching his face up to lock his lips with mine. His mouth is slightly parted and I glide my tongue over his. He groans in the kiss and bucks his hips against mine. My hand tangles into his hair, the other is pushing me up in support. His right hand releases from my hip and he reaches to pull my hair out of my face, clutching it into a fist behind my neck. 

Our lips move painfully slow against each other, and he pushes me by the neck deeper into the kiss.

My hands release from his hair and trail down to unbutton his shirt. When I get down to the last button he sits us up to pull it off his shoulders, flinging the shirt across the room. Our mouths still attached, he finds the zipper to my dress on the side and begins to unzip the fabric. 

“Every guy in Kildare was eye fucking you tonight.” he finally says, breaking our kiss.

“‘N I know all of them are having wet dreams tonight just hoping to get the chance to take this dress off of you.” I roll my eyes and pull myself off of him to let the rest of the dress slip down my body, leaving me in only white lace panties. 

“Lucky you,” I state, leaning over to unbutton his pants. He stands to let them fall to the ground, and grabs my body, pushing it down to the bed, and climbing on top of me. His hands are on the side of my head and he's hovering over my body, scanning me with his eyes up and down. He runs one hand down the side of my body and I feel myself tremble under his touch.

“Yea, lucky me,” he whispers before leaning down to attach his mouth to my right nipple.

“Fuck” I breathe out heavily, grasping his hair with both hands, letting a soft whimper fall from my lips in response to his mouth attacking my sensitive bud. 

My eyes roll to the back of my head as he attaches his mouth to my left nipple, using his free hand to fondle my right boob. His tongue laps over my nipple repeatedly and I squirm beneath him, reaching my hand down to feel his dick over his Polo boxers.

I gulp hard when I finally grasp his length, eyes squeezing shut just imagining what it would feel like inside. He had a thick girth, and I felt a slight curve towards the tip. My mouth began to water, and I heard myself panting beneath him. 

“Sure you don’t want me to stop?” he finally asks, his mouth skimming over my chest, up my neck and finally laying a wet kiss on my cheek. My eyes flutter open and I see him staring directly down at me. I shake my head and he tsks his tongue.

“Use your words,” he commands.

“No I don’t want you to stop.” I surprise myself at the authoritative tone. I see a flash of excitement in his eyes, the first emotion he's shown since he entered my room.

“Lets see whats under these pretty little panties.” he coos, pulling himself off of me, onto his knees at the edge of the bed. He pulls me down by my legs so they’re dangling over the edge. His hands creep up my legs and I try my best to hold still as he drags my underwear down my legs, flicking them to the side. He pushes open my legs with both hands, peppering kisses on the inside of my right thigh. His hair tickles me and I slightly fidget beneath him. His hands hold down my legs, forcing me to become still again.

He takes a hand to spread me open, the other still firmly gripped on my thigh.

“So fuckin’ pretty” he whispers, before dipping his tongue in between my folds. I let out a long sigh at the feeling of his tongue against such a sensitive part of my body. My back arches up from the bed and I reach down to place a hand in his hair. His tongue traces circles all around my pussy, licking up all of the juices from the stimulation he’s given me.

“Taste like heaven,” he mumbles against my skin, slowing his pace, dragging his tongue up and down, devouring me. Rafe flicks his tongue at my clit finally and I let out a deep moan, earning a chuckle from him. 

He runs a finger between my folds, teasing my entrance. His eyes finally flicker up to mine and I prop myself up on my elbows. He raises an eyebrow and I shake my head, yes, permitting him to do whatever he wants. He slides the finger in with ease and my head rolls back.

His mouth attaches to my clit and he forcefully sucks at it while pumping his index finger in and at at a constant pace. 

“Fuck Rafe” I gasp out. He slides a second finger inside, stretching me out. He curls the fingers up, hitting a spot that makes me embarrassingly whimper beneath him. His tongue flattens against my bud and he makes strokes up and down, fastening the pace of his fingers. 

He moans against my pussy, and I release a full-body tremble, his eyes flash up to me and I bite down on my bottom lip, holding in the moan I so desperately want to let out. 

“Let me hear you,” he says, breaking contact from my throbbing clit for a second, before dipping back in, keeping his eyes on me. I stare directly into his eyes and let out the most pathetic moan I’ve ever heard escape my lips. 

His eyes roll and for a second he loses pace with his fingers. After collecting himself again and getting back to work, I let whimpers fall from my mouth uncontrollably as I felt myself reaching my climax. 

My legs shake uncontrollably under his hold and I finally cry out

“Fuck I’m gonna cum.” Panting heavily I pull desperately at his hair with one hand, the other clawing at his shoulder, digging my nails into his skin as I come undone on his face. He keeps the pace exactly where I need him as I ride out my high, moaning profanities out loud that in the morning I knew I would be embarrassed of him hearing. 

After a few moments of him cleaning me up with his tongue, his head pops up between my thighs, with a big smirk spread across his face.

“That was hot,” he says, using my thighs to help him push himself up. I lay there, deflated as a balloon, blissed out of my mind as he waltzed over to my bathroom to rinse off his hands and face. I watch him from the corner of my eye check himself out in the mirror and he finally strolls back over, leaning down to pick his pants up off the ground.

I stare at him, analyzing his next moves. He pulls his pants up over his boxers and scans the room for his shirt. I point in the direction of where he threw it, and finally sit up, pulling a throw blanket over my naked body.

“Are we not gonna…” I say, puzzled at him getting fully clothed again.

“Nah Top’s having an after and I said I would bring some of my stash” 

I try to not let disappointment fall on my face at the fact that he wasn’t actually going to fuck me. 

“Don’t worry Y/N, we’ll fuck somday.” he says smugly, buttoning up his shirt. I scoff and roll my eyes, walking over to my drawer with the blanket wrapped around me. I pull a large T-shirt out of the middle drawer and slide it over me.

“Says who?” I finally snap back, turning to look at him. He walks over, pressing me against my dresser. My body still shaking from the orgasm I just had. 

He stared deep into my eyes, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face.

“Something tells me you’ll be begging for it soon.” I roll my eyes again and push him away from me.

“Whatever” I finally say, sitting on my bed. “You’re not gonna tell anyone right?” I ask as he slips on his shoes.

“No, I’m not gonna tell anyone you just came all over my face.” he says, grinning from ear to ear. 

“You’re so fucking annoying.” I say, throwing the same stuffed animal he was examining earlier at him. Unfortunately he catches it with ease and he chuckles, tossing it back onto the bed. 

“Happy Birthday Y/N. See ya in 3rd period!” he says chipperly, before exiting my patio doors.

I stare at the doors in disbelief. This was the most Rafe Cameron thing he’s ever done to me.

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[nightlyrequiem]

Hello there requiemmm 💫💫💫

Ive got a new request for u bbg 😈 /p

okay, so, this ones short, but, i hope its descriptive enough?? Idk 😭

(excuse my grammar, english is not my first language)

Valeria X unfairly devoted Reader.

hear me out, -- Reader is a member of Valerias cartel, -- they're in the higher ranks (im talking, one of the very few people that actually know who El Sin Nombre is, type of 'higher rank')

Reader is an absolute devotee. They (platonically, mostly) worship Valeria, cater to her every need, do whatever she'd like, whenever she'd like, no questions asked. Reader doesnt do it out of fear, that much is obvious. They just do it out of both respect and the far lack of both disobedience and a backbone.

Valeria, naturally, appreciates them, -- keeps them close, enjoys their company (mostly, because it feeds her ego, and makes her feel superior, -- in control, and whatnot) so much so, that reader is nearly permanently stuck being, somewhat of a 'personal assistant'.

Reader, being forced to spend all day (and, sometimes night, if Valeria needs some help with something) decides 'eh, why the fuck not' and asks Valeria out on a little hangout, disguised as a small 'meeting' in a coffee shop, that, ultimately, actually goes well, and spirals into a date.

(Date, naturally, ends with beating someone senseless in a dark alley, after they listened in on Readers and Vals conversation, or, .. something. Reader is, most definitely, doing all the damage, being a guard dog of sorts, not wanting Valeria to 'get her hands dirty, from such a small, unimportant man'. Not manner, man.)

Etc etc, girlfriends, lesbianism, boom. Work your magic, im bad at describing genuinly falling inlove.

hope yar doing well!

--Jester

🃏🌀⭐️

Took me eight days but I finally got around to this. Sorry for the wait, Jester 😔 I am doing quite well as of wiritng this, thank you. I hope all is well with you!

This is very loosely connected to the headcanons I did for this idea. I said it once, and I'll say it again; I love the unfairly devoted trope. I’m not sure I captured it too well but 🙌

Tags/Warnings: Violence, WLW, Boss/Employee Relationship

Swans

Many species of birds mate for life. Penguins, corvids, vultures, and most famously: swans. Symbols of love, loyalty, and grace. They are creatures full of love. They're so sensitive that they can die from heartbreak. You stare at Valeria and understand how the swan feels. How it could hopelessly devote itself to another, even at the cost of it's life.

The quiet scratching of a pen fills in the silence. Valeria's brows are furrowed in concentration as she haunches over her desk. You want to remind her to straighten her back, so it doesn't hurt later. Your eyes greedily drink in her profile. The slope of her nose, the curve of her lips, her curtain of black hair slightly obscuring her cheek and eye.

She sighs.

"Get me a drink." She murmurs. You're to your feet immediately. Heading towards the small cabinet containing her alcohol. You've fixed her enough drinks to know what she wants. Your fingers wrap around the neck of a bottle with golden liquid. Pouring it into a small glass, then putting in exactly two small ice cubes.

You carry it over to her desk and set it down in the corner. You slink around behind her. Watching her take a sip. You can't see her face, but you know she's letting the liquid sit in her mouth to savour the taste. She does that with all of her drinks; savours the first sip.

You have no problem getting her drinks. Or doing her paperwork. Or taking a bullet for her. Valeria has been the one constant in your life. She's the only one who has ever noticed you, and you latched onto her like a leech. She fed you crumbs of kindness and that's all it took. It's obsessive and unhealthy but you're long past the stage of caring.

Valeria takes a second sip then goes back to working. Her shoulders look so tense. You want to rub that tension away, but you don't. It's late and you're feeling a little tired, but you'd never say so. You doubt Valeria cares and you don't want to distract her. Besides, she must be tired too. You'll go home when she does. For now, though, you wander back around the desk and sit down in one of the chairs off to the side.

You gaze at Valeria as she works. At some point without even realising it you fall asleep. Your body startles itself awake as that fact worms it's way into your subconscious. You aren't sure how long you've been dozing off for, but Valeria isn't in the room anymore. You sit up with urgency and look around, a small fleece blanket falls from your shoulders.

You furrow your brows, trying to remember if you put it on yourself. You know you didn't. You feel slightly giddy at the thought of Valeria doing it. As if just thinking her name summoned her, Valeria walks into the small office. Despite how tired she is her stride is still intense and confident.

She sits down with a grunt and glances at you.

"Good sleep?" She asks sarcastically.

"How long was I out for?" You murmur. Tugging the blanket into your lap. Valeria's hair is a little messy and you wish you could run your fingers through it. Or a brush. You just want to touch her hair.

"Fifteen minutes." Valeria replies. "You should go home and get some rest."

Fifteen minutes isn't that bad. You don't want to leave just yet though.

"No, I'm okay to stay for longer." You insist. "I could help you finish up the last of those reports."

Valeria shakes her head and when she speaks her voice sounds softer than usual. "You've been staying late for the past few weeks; I know you aren't getting the sleep you need. Go home."

You frown but concede. "Alright." As you're getting up an idea pops into your head. "Hey, could we meet at Ila's tomorrow? I just think I need some extra reminders about where all the trade routes are." You know every route and the exact location of them.

"Okay." Valeria agrees. "5PM."

The next day arrives and you're very impatient for 5PM. You finished all your tasks and went home early. It's not a date. Not to Valeria, but that doesn't mean you aren't going to treat it like one. You've picked out a nice, attractive outfit and touched up your makeup.

You arrived five minutes early and secured a table. Watching as patrons pass by. The smell of baked goods almost tempts you into buying something, but you don't want to eat before Valeria. Ever the punctual person, Valeria walks in through the glass doors at exactly 5PM. She looks very put together, hair brushed and glossy. She's even wearing different clothes.

Valeria sits down across from you and gives you a small smile that sends fireworks throughout your body. You want to trap that smile in a jar like a firefly. Valeria reaches into her bag and pulls out a folded, yellowed map and sets it up on a table. She begins to quietly and intently explain where each route is and where the shipments go.

You nod and hum, pretending to listen. You're much more focused on Valeria's hands as she points at places on the map. Her neatly trimmed pink nails and fingers. Ine of them is slightly crooked from having been broken one too many times. Her skin looks soft and if you try hard enough you can smell her lotion.

"-and this is when we split it into smaller batches to move it across the border."

You point to Mackey Hill.

"Here?" You ask. Already knowing the answer.

"Yes." She nods. You glance up behind her for a split second and watch some scruffy looking man quickly turn away. Immediately you straighten and stare at him. You don't like the vibes he's giving off.

Valeria furrows her brows at you.

"What's wrong?" She asks quietly. You lean closer and whisper back.

"I think that man is eavesdropping."

Valeria turns her head to look at the man, narrowing her eyes. You feel pleased that she trusts your word so strongly.

"Get rid of him." She commands.

You slip out of your spot and approach him. He startles as you lean down and murmur in his ear.

"Follow me. My boss has a proposition for you." You walk towards the doors and cast a look behind you. He's staring at you nervously but eventually rises.

You wait behind the brick wall and wait. Sure enough the man rounds the corner. Looking at you with a mixture of caution and curiosity.

"What was the-" He's cut off by Valeria hitting him in the back of the head. He grunts and falls to his knees. You strike him this time. Kneeing him in the face. He opens his mouth to scream but you cover it before he can.

You drag him deeper into the alley and fish out the small blade hidden in your boot. You make quick work of slitting his throat. He makes an awful gurgling sound before going still. Valeria helps you lift him into the nearby dumpster. Your fingers brush and you look at each other.

You've been loyal to her for years. Since before she even came into power. Through thick and thin you've stuck by her side. You've thrown yourself in harm's way to protect her without thought. You've spent countless hours staring at her intently but now your gaze is being returned tenfold. There's a new fire in those dark inky eyes. One you've only caught glimpses of. But here it is, in all it's blazing glory and it's directed at you. Scorching and all consuming.

His body thumps dully as he falls among the full trash bags but neither of you are paying attention to him anymore.

"Why don't we go get something to eat?" Valeria murmurs softly. "I'm sure you'll have an easier time getting the routes with a full stomach." Her hand creeps towards yours and your fingers tangle with hers. You've done more than feed her ego, you've carved out a place in her heart for yourself.