#now 11th in the table

[pernillecfcw]

We are now 11th in the table just end the season now💀

[chirpsythismorning]

WGA Strike update as of Friday Evening

[ahsokaismyqueen]

Stay Stay Stay Pairing - Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary - Until you met Tyler, you'd only had shitty boyfriends who would leave at the first sign of trouble or when you started to get too attached. Tyler Owens however is there to show you that he's in it for the long run, even when he finds out you're pregnant with his child. Word Count - 4.5k Warnings - Pregnant Reader, but this is just 4k words of pure fluff based on Taylor Swift's Stay Stay Stay ngl.

You woke up feeling miserable. You had barely gotten any sleep, staying up most of the night crying, and all you could think about was how stupid the fight you and Tyler had seemed now. You glanced over at the clock on your bedside table, and shot up when you realized how late it was. Tyler might have already gone, and now you wouldn’t get the chance to say how sorry you were. The fear of that gripping your chest had you rolling out of bed and out the door. What you saw in the hallway however, had you stopping in your tracks. 

 As soon as you shut the door behind you, Tyler jolted awake from his spot on the floor, rubbing his eyes. He was still in his clothes from last night, the button up and jeans, complete with cowboy boots. “You stayed out here all night?” You asked, emotion tight in your throat. 

Tyler looked up at you, brushing his hair back from his face. “Of course I did. Didn’t know if you might need me or not after those nightmares you’ve been having.” 

“But - but I threw something-”

“Your phone.” He informed you. 

Heat rushed to your face in embarrassment. “-My phone at you.” 

“I don’t know if I’d really say ‘at me’. If so, your aim was pretty off for someone who used to play baseball.” He said, and he started to move so he could stand up. 

Before he could though, you bent down and scrambled into his lap, wrapping your arms and legs around him as the tears fell down your cheeks. 

He let out a surprised grunt, but put his arms around you as well. “To be honest, not the greeting I was expecting this morning.” He said in a strained voice, probably because you were squeezing him so tight. 

“I thought you left already, and I didn’t want you to leave mad at me, because if something happened to you out there. . .” You wondered if he could even understand you with the way your tears messed with your breathing, but you had to tell him. The thought of him leaving while the two of you were mad at each other made you feel sick. 

“Hey,” Tyler started running a hand through your hair, the comfort of the motion easing into you. “I wasn’t about to leave without talking to you. I told them I’d catch up.” You closed your eyes as you felt his lips against the side of your head. “And you know I can’t leave without my good luck kiss.” 

You pulled back so you could look at him when you said this. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I got so mad. I’ve just been all over the place lately, and I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’m mad one second, the next I’m sobbing, then I can’t keep my eyes open, and the next second I feel like I’m going to die if I’m not jumping your bones-”

Tyler reached up and brushed your tears away with his thumb. “That one’s my favorite.” He said with a smirk. 

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “I think I’m going crazy.” 

“Baby, you chase tornados in your spare time. Pretty sure by most people’s standards you are crazy,” he said, putting some hair behind your ear. 

You shook your head, and playfully smacked him in the chest. “I’m serious. I mean I know I get a little crazy around-” the thought hit you like a freight train. “Tyler, what’s today?” 

His brow furrowed, his smirk turning into a frown. “Sunday . . .”

“No! I mean what day of the month?” Were the calculations you were doing in your head right? Had the time passed that quickly? 

“It’s the 11th. Why?” 

Oh god. You gripped his face in your hands. “Ty, I’m late.” 

Tyler squinted at you. “Did you have somewhere to go . . . ?” 

You shook your head, your eyes wide with panic. “No, Tyler. I’m late.” You grabbed one of his arms and put his hand on your stomach, giving him a significant look. 

It was funny, how you could almost see the gears moving in his mind. It was like when he was trying to decide what storm to chase. You could tell the exact moments your words and actions landed. His eyes widened, and he glanced down at your stomach, then you. “You’re late . . . For that?” 

You nodded, watching his face for his reaction. It was an accident of course. The two of you tried to be careful, but one night a couple of months ago after an insane chase . . . The adrenaline got the better of both of you. While you had known you could get pregnant, you thought the chances of it happening the one time you didn’t use protection couldn’t be that high. Well, the universe might be proving you wrong. You weren’t sure how you felt about the possibility, but you were damn sure terrified of what Tyler might be thinking. 

You didn’t need to be. 

A slow grin started to spread on his face, and within seconds you found yourself hoisted over his shoulder and into the air. 

Letting out a little shriek, you grabbed a hold of his shirt. “Tyler! Put me down!” 

“Can’t! Got to go buy a pregnancy test.” He said, giving you a smack on the ass that made you squeal again. 

“We can’t! I’m not wearing pants!” 

“You don’t need pants to take a pregnancy test!” He said. 

A laugh left your lips at that, but then you smacked his back to get his attention. “Ty, what about the crew? They’re waiting on you. I can take the test, and call you-”

He put you down then, his hands holding your face and making you look at him. “If you think there is anything more important to me right now than this, you’re wrong.”  

It almost embarrassed you that you had thought for even a second any different. “I might not be, you know? I could actually be losing my mind.” 

Tyler shrugged. “Either way, there’s no place I’d rather be right now than here with you.” He said, sliding his hands down to grab your own, then leaned forward to give you one of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever had in your life, all gentle and tender, enough to almost bring tears back to your eyes. “Now, there’s my good luck kiss.” He said once he pulled away. 

“And what do you need good luck for, huh Owens?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. 

He smirked at you. “I’ll tell you later.” 

And he did. In about five months after he shot fireworks up in a tornado to reveal you were having a boy, just like he wanted. 

————————

“Ty! I can pick up potatoes. I’m barely showing.” You said, shaking your head at him as he dived in front of you to get the sack of potatoes before you could. 

He put them in the grocery cart, leaning over it and crossing his arms. “See, I know that, but the gentleman in me won’t let the woman carrying my son do something as lowly as pick up potatoes.” 

You rolled your eyes. It was sweet, but you knew it was also going to drive you crazy. “If you don’t let me do some things I might murder you in your sleep. I hope you know that.” 

Tyler raised his eyebrows at you, pretending to look confused. “Then who would reach all the stuff on the top shelf?” He asked, his expression morphing into a smirk as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“I guess I’ll have to find another tall, handsome cowboy. Shouldn’t be too hard.” You teased, and then grabbed the cart, pushing it past him. 

He stopped you, grabbing you around the waist, holding you back against his chest and pressing a kiss against your neck. “Unfortunately, you’ll find I’m very hard to replace.” He murmured against your skin. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, elbowing him in the side. “All right cowboy, if you’re going to not let me pick anything up heavier than three pounds, go do me a favor and get the water. Lily said you guys are running low, and the weather conditions for the weekend look rough.” 

Tyler pressed another kiss against your neck, and then let you go. “Whatever you say ma’am.” 

You watched him walk away, a sight you always enjoyed in those jeans, then hurried up to get as many of your groceries as you could before Tyler came back to not let you do anything again. 

“Well, look who it is.” 

Oh god, you knew that voice. It was one you hadn’t heard in years now, and one you hoped never to hear again. You almost didn’t want to turn around so you could pretend it wasn’t there, but you knew this person wasn’t going to allow that to happen. It would hurt his ego too much. Turning around, you let out a sigh at the familiar face. “Hey, Charles.” 

Your ex was a dick. In fact almost all of your exes were dicks. Until you started dating Tyler, you hadn’t known what it was like to date someone that put you above themselves. Charles was no different. In fact, he was one of the worst, and the way he was looking at you right now made you want to throw up. Or maybe that was the morning sickness . . . 

“I’ve got to say,” he looked you up and down. “You’re looking good.” 

Nope, it wasn't morning sickness. “Thanks.” You replied, moving your cart so you could go around him. Hopefully you could make a quick escape and pretend this whole interaction had never happened. “It was good seeing you.” Lies. 

He grabbed the cart, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait a second. Don’t you think we should catch up some? I mean it’s been-”

“Five years.” You answered, your hands squeezing the handle of the cart. 

He smirked. “You kept track?” 

You wanted to smack that expression off his face, “to celebrate.” 

The nice facade faded upon your words. “You know, I thought maybe you’d changed over the years, but it seems like you’re still a-”

“Got the waters!” You breathed a quick little sigh of relief as Tyler came to a stop beside you, carrying not one, but two packs of water. He placed them in the cart, flipped his baseball cap around backwards, and put his hand on the small of your back. “Who’s this?” Tyler asked with his charming grin. 

You took a step closer to Tyler, not because you were scared of Charles, but because you liked the comfort of his presence. Something you never felt with the douche in front of you now. “You remember me telling you about Charles? This is him.” 

To Charles, Tyler showed no response to the name, but you felt the hand on your back press a little harder against your skin. Tyler turned to look at you, and there was a little glimmer in his eyes when he spoke. “I don’t actually. Are you sure you’ve mentioned someone named Charles before?” 

You had to bite back a smirk once you realized what he was up to. “Yeah, I think so.” You played along. 

“Hmmm, I must not have thought it was that important. Anyway, Tyler Owens.” He held out his hand to Charles, and you watched Charles’s face with delight. Not only had Tyler made him feel unimportant, something you knew from experience he couldn’t stand, but Tyler was . . . a big man. At least a foot taller than Charles, and more muscles on him than this guy could ever hope to have. You didn’t however expect the look of disbelief that crossed his face. 

“Tyler Owens? The tornado wrangler?” He asked, almost too shocked to shake his hand, but then he collected himself and reached for Tyler’s. 

“The very same.” He said. “Though I’ve got to say, I think my favorite title is her future husband.” He said, nodding his head back to you. 

Heat flushed straight to your face at the bold statement. Tyler and you hadn’t talked much about marriage. You had thought that might be the logical next step, but you also didn’t want to bring it up if it scared him away. With past boyfriends, including the one in front of you, it always had. You should’ve known by now though that Tyler was nothing like that. You leaned into him more now, smiling as his arm went around you and his hand rested on your stomach. 

“Her future-” Charles looked dumbfounded, and you also didn’t miss the wince when Tyler shook his hand probably more roughly than necessary. 

“Got to lock her down, you know? Plenty of other idiots have already let her go. I’m not going to make the same mistake.” Tyler replied, giving you a smile full of mischief. 

You placed your hand on top of the one he had on your stomach. “Ty, I’m having your baby. I don’t think you have to worry about that.” You assured him, your smile widening as he kissed your cheek. 

“You’re - you’re pregnant?” 

You’d almost forgotten Charles was there with Tyler’s sudden proclamation, but his words pulled your attention back to him. Turning to the side, you let him see the slight curve to your stomach. “Yep. Four months to go before we meet our baby boy.” 

As soon as you said the words, Tyler’s face lit up with genuine excitement like it always did. “I can’t wait.” He turned back to Charles, putting both of his arms around you protectively now. “How do you two know each other again?” Tyler asked, and once again you had to fight back a laugh. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You said, looking back up at Tyler with a soft smile. “We need to be getting out of here anyway right babe?” 

“Yes ma’am. Well, it was nice to meet you, Chuck.” Tyler said, stepping back from you so he could grab a hold of the cart with one hand, taking your hand in the other. 

You couldn’t hold your laughter back anymore at that point, entwining your fingers together as you followed him to the register, leaving Charles standing dumbfounded in your wake. 

________________

It was the thing you had been the most scared of happening. You had no one else to blame other than yourself though. You were the one who had insisted that Tyler go on the chase. It was supposed to be a large storm, and you reminded him that it was the last one he’d probably go on for a while since the season was ending, as was your pregnancy. You had faith that he would be careful, knowing that he wouldn’t risk anything that would endanger him from meeting his son. 

What you hadn’t expected however, was your water to break three weeks early. 

It was safe to say you were panicking when you called your sister to come get you, and by the time they wheeled you back to your room, you were close to a full blown meltdown. “I can’t do this without him.” You told her, holding your stomach as if that could keep him in, tears streaming down your face. “And he’s at least five hours away! What if I don’t have that long?!”

Your sister, who was more calm than you, grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. “He will make it, I’m sure. You’ve texted him right?” 

You bit your lip, and when your sister gave you a look, you blurted. “I didn’t want to ruin his chase! I thought I’d wait to see if the doctor was even going to take me!” 

“Oh my god.” She reached into your bag and grabbed your phone. You held out your hand for it, but she was already texting away. “There, done.” 

“What did you say?” 

But she didn’t answer, instead she waited about ten seconds and said, “he said he’s on his way.” 

You nodded, watching as she put your phone back in your purse. God you hoped he was going to make it. The thought of doing this without him was terrifying. You were already scared enough that something was wrong because of how early he was. Having to have this baby without Tyler by your side, reassuring you the whole way, seemed impossible. 

A few minutes later, while you were lost in your thoughts, the door to your room opened and a nurse walked in. “Hey, honey, how’re we doing?” 

“She’s panicking.” Your sister replied for you. 

You glared at her. “My boyfriend, he’s - he’s not going to be able to get here for a few hours, do you think I have that long?” 

She gave you a sympathetic smile. “Well that’s according to him I’d say, because I speak from experience when I say babies don’t wait for no one.” She said. 

Oh god, he wasn’t going to make it. You just knew it. He wasn’t going to make it in time, and you would have to try and do this without him, and you didn’t think that you could. You needed him. You needed him so badly it added to the pain you were already in, and the worst part was that it was your fault. If you hadn’t forced him to go on that chase - 

“I’m here, I’m here!” 

To your complete and utter shock, Tyler came sliding into your room, taking his cowboy hat off and hurrying to your side. 

“Ty?” Was all you could think to say.

“Did I miss anything?” Tyler asked, taking your hand in his own and looking at your nurse. 

“Dad, I assume?” The nurse said with a smile. 

Tyler beamed at the use of the word. “About to be.” 

“In that case, you haven’t missed a thing yet. We’re about to take some vitals and get this show on the road.” She informed him. “Glad you could make it.” She said, and left your room. Your sister, sensing the two of you needed some alone time, followed close behind. 

Once they had both left, your thoughts caught up to your brain, and you squeezed Tyler’s hand. “Tyler Owens, I’ve never been more happy to see you in my entire life, but how the hell did you get here so fast?” 

He gave you an affectionate smile, and reached up to wipe away the tears you didn’t even know you’d still been crying. “Yeah, so about that chase . . . I never went.” 

“You - you what?” 

He started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “You were less than a month away from having our son. I knew you’d blame yourself if I didn’t go, but I also knew if something happened while I was away . . . You’d blame yourself too. So I just . . . stayed at a hotel the past couple of nights.” 

You couldn’t even be mad. He knew you too well, and the relief you felt that he was here to help you was too much to be upset. “I was so scared you were going to miss it.” 

“Not for the largest tornado in the world baby.” Tyler said, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss it. “You ready to do this?” He asked as they started wheeling in the equipment. 

Not five minutes ago you were horrified. The effect of Tyler’s presence on your emotions was remarkable. With him by your side, you had no doubts that you could do this. You could have this baby. “Now that you’re here? Definitely.” 

Tyler leaned forward to give you the last kiss the two of you would have before you were parents, the smile on his lips unmistakable. 

————————

“He looks so much like you it’s like you birthed him.” You said with a tired laugh. It was god knows how many hours later, you had never been more tired in your life, and somehow you and Tyler had squeezed into your tiny hospital bed. You were leaning against his shoulder, eyes glued to the baby he held in his arms that was looking up at you both curiously. 

“Not completely. I know that nose anywhere.” He said, gently tapping your son in the nose. Then, for the first time since his son had been placed in his arms, he looked at you, the unmistakable glint of tears in his eyes. “He’s perfect.” 

You knew that you were already emotional. You were exhausted, overwhelmed and a million other things at once, but the way Tyler was looking at your son, then at you? Your whole body seemed to light up with warmth. It was love all over his face, pure, intense love, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forget what it looked like again. You felt too choked up to speak, so you slipped your arm through his to curl your hand around his bicep, and turned your head to kiss his shoulder. 

A smile formed on your face as Tyler looked back at your son, that adoring expression not fading for a second. “This is the best day of my life so far.” 

“So far?” You said curiously. 

“Well, you haven’t agreed to marry me yet.” He replied, grinning over at you. 

Your smile widened, giving his arm a little squeeze. “Ty, you haven’t asked.” 

“I haven’t?” Tyler said, pretending to look confused. “It’s a great proposal. You’ll just have to wait and see.” 

You rolled your eyes, but the thought of Tyler proposing to you made you feel giddy. “Does it involve fireworks in a tornado?” You teased. 

He shook his head. “Nah, been there, done that. Boone would love it though.” Tyler shifted your son, who cuddled right against his chest. “By the way, the crew’s waiting outside with your sister.” 

You sat further up, wincing when you moved too quickly. “Jeez Tyler, how long have they been out there?” 

“Since they dropped me off.” He admitted. 

“You mean none of them went on the chase either?” You said in shock. 

Tyler shook his head again, “They said this was going to be better than any tornado.” 

Your throat clogged with emotion again, and you really hoped this crying at the drop of a hat wasn’t going to last long. “Go get them! They deserve to see him!” 

He reached up, brushing a tear away from your face. “Are you sure? I know how tired you are, and I can tell them to come back tomorrow.” 

“I can sleep when they’re gone. Right now I want them to see what they gave up a chase for.” You said, holding out your arms for the baby. 

Tyler leaned forward, giving you a kiss on your forehead and handing your son over as gently as if he was made of glass. You smiled as he snuggled right up to your chest, and knew that there was no better feeling in the world than this right here. When you looked up, Tyler was staring at the two of you as if he was trying to memorize this moment. “I love you.” He said finally. 

You felt like you could float at that moment, so light and loved. “We love you too.” You told him, and the softest smile formed on his face. “Go,” you told him before you started crying again. “We’re not going anywhere.” You joked. 

“You better not.” He played along, giving you a mock stern look, and then he went outside the door. 

Not ten seconds later you heard a cheer from outside your door, and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at their enthusiasm. Of course, they were shushed by nurses, and then Tyler brought them all in. 

You smiled at them as your sister, Lily, Boone, Dex and Dani’s eyes all went straight to the baby in your arms. Lily, Dani, your sister and Dex rushed forward to get a better look and started cooing over him, the biggest smiles on their faces while Boone hung back, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe the baby was a real thing.

“We got you guys something.” Dex said, holding up some familiar looking material as Tyler got back into the bed with you. He handed him the shirts, and Tyler unfolded them, letting out a laugh before showing them to you. It was similar to the normal shirts, but instead of Tyler’s face, it was a baby with a cowboy hat. That would have been hilarious enough, but instead of saying, “not my first tornadeo” it said, “this is my first babeo.” 

“Oh my god, it’s so cheesy. I love it.” You said with a laugh yourself. 

“We also got little man . . .” Dani held up a little onesie that said, “mini wrangler” on it with their tornado logo. 

You grinned, looking down at the bundle of cuteness in your arms. “It’s perfect.” You said, turning your smile to them. “Thank you guys for bringing Ty by the way, and staying. I would have understood if you all went on the chase.” 

“Are you crazy? We weren’t going to miss this.” Lily said, giving your son a little wave. 

Your eyes went over to Boone though, still standing back a little ways. The man who had gone into tornados and helped shoot fireworks and rockets up into them was looking at the baby in your arms like it was a bomb. “Hey Boone, you want to hold him?” You asked. 

“Oh, I don’t - I wouldn’t even know how-”

But Dani was already pushing him towards you. “It’s all right Boone, you got this.” You reassured him, sitting up a little more to hand him your son. 

“Make sure you get the back of his head.” Tyler said, watching with the eyes of a hawk as you gently placed him in Boone’s arms. 

“Woah.” Boone said, as he looked down at him. 

Tyler wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and now that your arms were free, you curled into his side, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your arm around his stomach. 

“T, man! He looks just like you!” Boone said, and you smiled at the excitement in his voice. 

“Except for the nose.” Tyler said, and you found your eyes closing as Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

He was so comfortable, and you were so tired. You felt yourself starting to drift off as his thumb brushed up and down your shoulder. It was hard not to when you felt so safe and loved, surrounded by your family, your new baby and the love of your life. 

Tyler could sense it, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You want me to kick them out?” 

You shook your head, tightening your grip on him. “They can stay.” You murmured, nuzzling into him. “Make sure Boone doesn’t get too excited and drop our baby.” You joked. 

“Yes ma’am.” Tyler responded with a chuckle, pulling you closer. “You go ahead and rest. I'll be here when you wake up.” 

“I know.” You mumbled sleepily with a soft smile. “You always stay.”

[blckbrrybasket]

𓆩 𓉸 𓆪 Kinktober 2024

• MDNI! porn with little plot

• all of these are x reader with no use of y/n

• both female and gender neutral readers featured

꒰33k+ words total꒱

1st. — “Hotter than a Burning Fire”

        -> Face sitting + Inexperience, Robin Buckley

2nd. — “Give and Take”

        -> Squirting + Edging, Steve Harrington 

3rd. — “Bite her Hip”

        -> Caught + Hate Sex, Nancy Wheeler

4th. — “Yer Killin’ Me”

        -> Boot Worship, Arthur Morgan

5th. — “Girls on Film”

        -> Being Filmed, Mickey Altieri

6th. — “Heaven in Your Mouth”

        -> Throat Fucking + Breath Play, Rafe Cameron

7th. — “Closer”

        -> Mutual Masturbation + Forbidden, Robin Buckley 

8th. — “Oh Honey”

        -> First Time + Domination, Kurt Kunkle

9th. — “Hearts a Mess”

        -> Public Sex + Gag, Art Donaldson

10th. — “Ghosting”

        -> Under the table, Javier Peña

11th. — “Burning For You”

        -> Sleepy Sex + Cockwarming, Sejanus Plinth

12th. — “She’s in Parties”

        -> High sex, Rafe Cameron

13th. — “Melting With You”

        -> Double Penetration, Stu and Mickey

14th. — “As You Are”

        -> 69, Ellie Williams

15th. — “Of Love For Love”

        -> Cream Pie + Cum Play, John ‘Soap’ MacTavish

16th. — “Maneater”

        -> Dacryphilia + Masochism, Kurt Kunkle

17th. — “What I Need”

        -> Degradation + Cum Eating, Ethan Landry

18th. — “I was made for loving you”

        -> Praise Kink + Body Worship, Steve Harrington 

19th. — “Takin’ Time”

        -> Spanking + Orgasm Denial, Joel Miller

20th. — “Sweet As Whiskey”

        -> Blood Kink + Period, Vampire!Eddie Munson

21st. — “Wind You Up”

        -> Hair Pulling + Rough Sex, Trevor (Hellraiser)

22nd. — “Eyes On Me”

        -> Bondage + Femdom, Agent Whiskey

23th. — “Show and I’ll Learn”

        -> Sex Toys, Robin Buckley

24th. — “If You Knew”

        -> Overstimulation + Wet Dream, Joel Miller

25th. — “Hell And You”

        -> Mask Kink + Knife Kink, Stu Macher

26th. — “You’ve Got Me Now”

        -> Dry Humping + Tipsy Sex, Eddie Munson

27th. — “Happy Birthday, Baby”

        -> Lingerie + On The Counter, Walter ‘Keys’ McKey

28th. — “Quit While Ahead”

        -> Pussy slapping, Rafe Cameron

29th. — “Love My Way”

        -> Scissoring, Tara Carpenter

30th. — “Suck It Up”

        -> Marking + Possessiveness, Love Quinn

31st. — “Body Electric”

        -> Cucking + Breeding Kink, Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington

taglist closed!

[yandere-romanticaa]

⚘ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

m. - "forevermore" typically refers to something that lasts for an indefinite amount of time or for eternity. it implies a sense of permanence or lastingness.

You've ran away from your husband, the 11th Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia himself. However, have you truly escaped his grasp?

yandere! tartaglia x fem! reader.

The shimmering rays of bright morning sunlight made the living room come to life as you sat in a classic wooden chair, a steaming cup of tea in your hand. It burned your fingers ever so slightly but you could not be bothered to remove them from the cup.

The pain made you not focus on the massive bouquet of flowers which were placed on your pretty white table.

From the corner of your vision, you could see the card which clung onto the fresh bunch of blooms, the handwriting on it disgustingly elaborate but oh so familiar.

"Blood red roses." The card said.

"I always knew that you fancied roses, and I couldn't resist to get you these specific ones when I saw you looking at them."

Bastard. How he had managed to track you all the way to Mondstatd was beyond your comprehension, but in hindsight, you really should have known better. The Fatui could sneak in anywhere they damn well pleased, be it the hustle and bustle of the city of Mondstatd, to the dirty cracks of the Chasm.

It was only natural that the many agents which were stationed in the city would start to talk upon seeing the wife of a Lord Harbinger so far from home.

You concealed yourself at first, obviously. Most unfortunately, word started to spread like wildfire that you had fled in the dead of night, never to be seen by anyone. And, due to the fact that your husband did not possess a single shred of decency in his body, he proudly showed you off wherever he could.

Just the mere thought of the memory made you shudder.

Your good husband was - is - a wealthy man. He made sure to spoil you in the finest of silks known to man and the endless sea of jewelry which was sent your way, if it were to be sold, could feed an entire army.

Although, he was always particular about your arms. He didn't like seeing anything on them except for the, surprisingly, simple wedding ring he got you.

It was a promise, he had told you.

His eternal promise to you, until the end of time. He would love you, in sickness and in health, there was no force in the universe that could separate him from you.

In a way, he was keeping his promise. He made the trip from the homeland straight to the City of Freedom all on his own.

... He probably didn't even need to hear the reports from anyone of your whereabouts. Knowing him, he tracked you down all on his own, using nothing but his wit and sharp senses.

He was a terrifying man. A man you ought to stay away from, a man who had the blood of countless innocent people on his hand. And yet, those same hands would keep you warm during the cold winter, his soft and pale lips would pepper your body with gentle kisses, making you feel as if you were the most beautiful woman in the universe.

Archons, he'd whisper to himself, his breath hot on your neck, making you blush. He would just say whatever came to mind, completely lost in his blind passion.

I want no one else but you - You are my everything - I will make you mine -

Frankly, you did not know how to feel. In those private moments he was less a man and more a lovesick little fool. He could not keep his paws off you, even if he wanted to. As the evening would go on the kisses would evolve into something more, something primal, carnal even. Tongue and teeth would mesh together, leaving a thick string of saliva between him and you, to which he would always let out that darling boyish laugh of his.

You loathed the fact that in those moments, he truly was ethereal, no different than a star.

What made your skin crawl was the effect his touch had on your mind and body. He became something akin to a drug, even now as you felt the sweetness of freedom with your own two hands you still felt the urge to hold something tight at night because your husband had spoiled you rotten with his presence.

Finally, you turned to look at the flowers as the horrible realization dawned on you - you loved him. You loved that man and it was putrid.

You cannot go back. You would not go back to him.

Jumping off a building would be a smarter thing to do.

As you pondered on and on about your predicament, you failed to notice the lingering shadow in your hallway. Deep blue eyes monitored you like a hawk as he toyed with a switchblade he had in his pocket. What should he do with you? He was furious, naturally. You were the last person in the world he wanted discord with. You broke his heart a little when you left and the fact that you didn't even care about his feelings only added insult to injury.

Even so, he could not help but to feel overjoyed by the fact that you hadn't thrown out his gift. He was half expecting you to burn whatever he sent you to the ground, not to mournfully contemplate in deep thought like this.

That was how he knew you loved him. It was crooked and wrong, but he had you. He had you and you didn't even know it. He'd bring down the heavens themselves if it meant that you could feel a fraction of the love he held for you. His lips curled into a sly grin but his heart pounded like clockwork in his chest. This waiting game was so horrible.

But the hunter in him couldn't resist, cornering you like this was just in his nature.

Victory was so close, he could practically taste it. Soon enough, his wife would be in his arms, weeping and apologizing and he would soothe her, like a good husband ought to. Yes, that was how this scenario would play out.

He was too clever to let it happen any other way.

It would be just him and you, perhaps even with a bundle of joy if the Tsaritsa blessed him. Even so, with you here, he had everything he could ever dream of.

Him and you, against the world, standing by each other's side, forevermore.

💋 TAGLIST: @genshinarchives, @saturnalya @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @alatusprinz @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @lakxcpsta @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @cc-6789, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149

This fic was born out of my own pure passion and love for Tartaglia, apologies for the Cringe™ I put you all through.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

use me (mv33)

max x reader

summary: max needs a way to take his frustrations out, you offer yourself to him

notes: !! contains smut minors dni !! i have other stories in the works but as a max girlie this took precedent, it had to be done after watching the singapore quali

You were on the edge of your seat watching the remaining 15 cars zoom around the track. Both the Red Bulls had been having issues during the weekend, not driving as fast as they had been in previous races.

You watched as your boyfriend, the reining world champion, made his final lap in Q2, scoring fairly low, and just falling further down the list as other drivers crossed the line. Liam Lawson of all people was the one to push Max down to 11th. You had to admit the kid was talented, but you knew Max was going to be very unhappy with the results.

You knew you were right when you saw Max get out of his car before they had even pulled it into his garage. He stormed away, pulling his helmet off his head as someone practically had to chase after him.

“He’s going to be pleasant.” A voice pulled your attention away from the scene in front of you.

Christian stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his headset now resting around his neck.

“He’ll be fine.” You tell him, however you know just how explosive Max can get when he doesn’t do well.

“You should go see him, calm him down. He won’t kill you.”

You snort. “Right.”

“Think you can calm him down in the next 30 minutes?” He asks.

“I can try.” You stand up to start heading in the direction Max walked off in.

You find him sitting in a corner, drinking from his water bottle, his eyes trained on the ground ahead of him.

You stand next to him and run a hand through his hair. While he would usually lean into you, craving more of your touch, he doesn’t react now, unmoving from his current position.

“How are you?” You ask, in an attempt to tread safely.

He scoffs, shaking his head. “I’m great, how are you?” He doesn’t hide the sarcasm in his tone.

You tilt his chin up so that he’s looking you in the eyes. You can practically see the anger swimming around in the blue eyes you fell in love with.

“You know the press are going to eat you alive if you walk in with that attitude.” You tell him.

He rolls his eyes, and looks back down ahead of him. “They’ll be cheering, dancing on my grave.”

You glance down at your watch. 25 minutes until Max will be needed for press. 25 minutes to bring back your happy Max.

“C’mon.” You take his hand, and slowly pull him up.

“Where are we going?” He asks, following you.

You lead him back to Red Bull hospitality, taking him up to his driver’s room. It’s small, a massage table sits in the corner, a shelf against the wall with more race suits and fireproofs.

“You need to get your anger out before you go do press.” You tell him as you lock the door.

“What, do you want me to throw things around the room?” He asks with his hands on his hips.

“I want you to fuck me.” You tell him, your voice completely serious.

He looks shocked for a moment. The two of you were always pretty private in your relationship, never showing too much PDA, and never having sex anywhere outside of your home. His shock soon dissipates, and turns into thoughtfulness, as if he’s thinking about the risk versus the reward.

You walk towards him in the center of the room. Your hands lift to his shoulders, softly massaging them before your arms wrap around his neck. You lean your head towards his, softly nudging your nose against his. He already looks like he’s losing his self control, his eyes watch your lips as you whisper to him.

“Use me, Max.”

He dives down to kiss you, his lips firm against yours. There’s no asking for permission for his tongue to enter your mouth, it pushes past your lips and tangles with yours.

You grip onto his hair as he hoists you up on the massage table. He stands between your legs, trailing his lips down your neck, leaving a trail of teeth marks on any skin he can find.

He tugs your shirt and bra off, flinging them to some corner of the room, desperate to have access to more of you. He travels down your chest, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples, teeth softly biting at it while his fingers find the other, pinching at it. After he’s satisfied he switches to the other, continuing his work.

Your pants and underwear are the next to come off as Max trails his fingers along your center. He smirks when he feels your hips move to meet his hand.

He pulls a whimper from you when his thumb brushes against your clit. He kneels down, pulling you to the edge of the table and lifting your legs over his shoulders. His hands press down on your abdomen to keep you still as his tongue laps over you.

His nose brushes against your clit, send a jolt to your hips. His hands press down harder on you as his eyes look up to meet yours. They’re a stormy blue now, his pupils enlarged and eyelids hooded.

“Stay still.” He says, his voice low and rough.

His tongue is quick to continue prodding against you, slowly pushing inside you as you let you a long moan. One of your hands flies to his hair, tangling itself in his light brown locks, as your other keeps yourself propped up.

Your taste is sweet, one of his favorite flavors really.

“You taste so good mijn liefje.” He softly moans against you as he eats you out, his nose now bumping your clit over and over until you cry out his name, cumming on his tongue.

This only encourages him, as he takes everything you give him. Your body is tired, exhausted from keeping yourself upright, ready to collapse on the table.

Max stands up and it’s only then you realize that he’s still in his clothes, his race suit still hanging off his hips, while you’re completely bare in front of him.

“I’m not finished with you yet schat.” He shakes his head as he pulls you upright to kiss you.

You can taste yourself on him, but it doesn’t matter to you, not when he’s kissing you the way he is. It’s all tongue and teeth and it’s messy, but still so good.

He pulls you off the table, your legs slightly wobbling beneath you. You’re surprised when he turns you around, keeping your body trapped between his and the table. You hear his clothes move around some more, the thick fabric of his race suit rustling around, then you feel him softly kick your ankle with his leg.

You spread your legs for him, wide enough to allow him room, but still close enough that you can stand comfortably.

He reaches a hand around you to feel between your legs.

“Think you’re wet enough to take me?” He asks. Max has always been a caring lover, even in his dominant moods he still checks in with you.

“Yes Max, please fuck me.” You lean forward against the table and push your ass back against him. You can feel his cock press against you as he grabs onto your hips.

He fists himself a few times before lining himself up with you then pushing in.

The stretch is a lot but feels so good. Max stills for a moment, leaning down to press a kiss against the flushed skin on your back.

His sweet demeanor quickly turns back to his dominant one though, slowly pulling out, then giving a harsh thrust back into you. You try to grip onto the table for dear life as Max pounds into you from behind.

Your moans aren’t quiet, yet neither are his grunts. The door being the only thing blocking you from the rest of the Red Bull team is the farthest thing in your minds at the moment.

He wraps an arm around your middle pulling you up so that your back is pressed against his chest. He’s still wearing his fireproofs, only having pulled the pants down far enough so that he’d be able to bury himself inside you.

The new angle causes him to sink even deeper in you. You feel so full, so consumed by Max.

He grins when he feels you clench around him. His right hand travels over your body, squeezing your breasts before stopping over your neck. He wraps his hand around it, putting a slight pressure on it as his other drops back down to where the two of you meet. He finds your clit, and rubs quick harsh circles into it.

He lets out a low laugh as you clamp down even tighter around him. He leans his head down, his lips brushing against your ear as he teases you. “You like that? Does that feel good?”

Your mind is so clouded over that you can only moan in response.

“Oh, you can’t use your words? You’re just dumb for my cock huh? It’s a good thing you’re so pretty.” He bites down on your neck, sucking a dark hickey onto it. “Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me again?”

You nod your head, feeling something tighten in your core for the second time tonight.

It only takes a few more rough thrusts before he’s got you cumming again, his name falling out of your mouth like a prayer.

The hand on your clit moves to your hip so that he can control his movements. His release follows as his thrusts become sloppy and erratic. You feel his warm cum fill you up as he holds himself inside you. He keeps himself there as you both come down from your highs. He softly presses kisses to your back as you catch your breath.

You hiss when he slowly pulls himself out. His hand falls away from your neck as he uses both to make sure you don’t collapse to the floor. He turns you back around and lifts you back up onto the table.

He finds a towel and spreads your legs to help clean you up. The sight in front of him causes his cock to stir with interest again, his cum is seeping out of you, trailing down your thighs. Your skin shines with the layer of sweat that’s coated your body. Your chest rises and falls with every deep breath you take. Your neck has several marks along it, fresh hickeys to show what you’ve been up to.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He asks, throwing the towel away to a corner of the room.

You give him a lazy smile. “Not at all. I really enjoyed that.”

“I love you.” He says, helping you back down from the table.

“I love you too.”

You’re both quiet at you get dressed again. You still feel a little wobbly on your feet, but are beginning to regain your balance.

“So do you think you can handle the press without chewing anyone’s head off?” You ask him as you both head to the door.

“Oh definitely.” He grins.

He wraps an arm around your waist as you leave his driver’s room and head back to the main area of the paddock.

Max gives you a quick kiss before he separates from you to do his post qualifying interviews, leaving you with the rest of the team.

When Christian spots you he sighs. “Y/n… no…” he says as he looks at the marks along your neck and the way your legs shake if you stand in one spot for too long.

You shrug. “What? You told me to calm him down.”

Needless to say everyone was surprised when Max was calm cool and collected during his interviews.

[mononijikayu]

bed chem — nanami kento.

“Are you free next week?” Your breath hitched, caught off guard by how effortlessly he turned the tables on you. It was exactly what you had been thinking, the question that had echoed in your head. He had beaten you to it, but his tone told you this was no ordinary invitation. There was more behind that simple question—an invitation to something deeper, something physical. You raised an eyebrow, smiling to yourself, already knowing your answer. “I think I could be.”

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au;

WARNING/S: romance, love at first sight, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, nanami kento is that MAN, reader really wants to have bed chem with nanami <3;

WORD COUNT: 4.8k words.

NOTE: i keep thinking about how much i wrote and how it could be a treat for the entire october in terms of kinktober but i think i realize i'll be too busy starting the 11th, so i won't be showing up to anything, so i'll just be doing all this stuff i can now and posting some in between so i can at least have something for yall, you know? also im realizing my actor sukuna series and this is a minor part of it. its such a good story!!! if you wanna read it the latest chapter is here chapter four; anyway, i hope you can feel my love through out. i'll be seeing you soon enough, though. wish me luck on my upcoming exams <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

kayu's playlist — side 1500;

YOU’RE NEVER GOING TO FORGET THIS NIGHT. And you were happy about that thought. You remember the day you met him vividly, as if it happened just yesterday. You were dressed in a sheer, ethereal gown, moving gracefully through the grand corridors of a buzzing fashion venue.

Models, designers, and staff rushed around in a whirlwind of fabric and creativity, preparing for the show. You were part of that beautiful chaos, your mind focused on the evening ahead. But then you saw him.

Nanami Kento, the famous actor.

He stood out, calm amidst the frenzy, wearing a sharp white jacket that contrasted with the hectic energy around you. His sandy-blonde hair fell neatly into place, and his tall, sturdy frame exuded a sense of quiet confidence.

You exchanged brief pleasantries—just a moment's conversation—but the connection felt palpable. His presence lingered in your thoughts long after. You can’t help it. He was just that enigmatic. He was just that awe-strikingly beautiful.

Later that evening, a friend of his reached out, suggesting the two of you connect. You think that maybe they think you guys are going to be good for each other. Or maybe you could just be friends.

Who knows? You hadn’t expected it, but before you knew it, there was a message on your phone from Nanami Kento himself. And just like that, you found yourself scrolling through his texts, your pulse quickening with every new notification.

Who's the cute guy with the white jacket and the thick accent? The thought danced in your mind, replaying your brief interaction. You wondered if you were imagining it, but something told you this connection was real.

He wasn’t just like any other guy you’ve dated. A lot about him was already an improvement, but you were sure, one hundred percent — he would be everything. Everything that you could ever want in a man. 

Maybe it was all in your head, just a fleeting crush, but you couldn't shake the feeling. You have never felt like this before.  You began to picture more than just idle conversation. You bet the two of you would have incredible chemistry—on all levels.

Your thoughts spiraled into fantasies, growing more vivid with every passing moment. You imagined him picking you up with ease, spinning you around like you were weightless, his strong hands firm but gentle. It just made sense, didn’t it? The way he looked at you, the way his words were always so calm and collected, but with an underlying intensity that pulled you in.

There was chemistry—bed chem, as you started to call it in your mind.

You saw it all clearly: the way he’d pull you close, lower you down, his voice teasing but sweet. And his hands—how they might trail over your skin with a deliberate touch, a mix of sweet and sinful. You were obsessed with the idea. He didn’t even need to say anything when you saw him, the look in his eyes was enough to spark that connection.

You imagined asking him, casually, Are you free next week? You were certain that if you met again, everything would fall into place. You’d fit together seamlessly, like two puzzle pieces made for each other. Your fantasies painted the perfect picture: soft sheets, the thermostat set just right—maybe at 69—and the two of you in sync, moving as if you’d done this a thousand times before.

You saw him later that night at the after-party, his blue eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. Your heart skipped a beat. Nanami wasn’t just an actor anymore, not just a face from the big screen or a billboard. He was real, standing right there, closing the distance between you.

As he approached, you couldn’t help but think, I bet we’d have really good bed chem.

The thought made you smile to yourself, a secret desire that hung in the air, just waiting to be fulfilled.

He moved closer, his stride confident but unhurried. The noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, the music and chatter dissolving as your attention zeroed in on him. You could feel the air between you thicken, an unspoken pull drawing you together. Nanami’s eyes never left yours, his intense gaze making it clear he hadn’t forgotten your brief encounter earlier in the day.

He stopped just a few steps away, close enough that you could see the faintest hints of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. You exchanged a polite smile, but beneath the surface, the tension was palpable. It was as if every look, every subtle movement, was laden with meaning. Your heart raced, but you kept your composure.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” he said, his voice smooth, with that same deep cadence you had replayed in your mind over and over again.

You offered a light laugh, something casual, but even the smallest exchange felt charged. “Fashion world is small, I guess.”

The conversation was polite, yet every word held weight. You both knew there was something more bubbling beneath the surface. And that’s when it happened—he leaned in, just a fraction, and his voice lowered, the faintest hint of something playful lacing his words.

“Are you free next week?”

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by how effortlessly he turned the tables on you. It was exactly what you had been thinking, the question that had echoed in your head. He had beaten you to it, but his tone told you this was no ordinary invitation. There was more behind that simple question—an invitation to something deeper, something physical.

You raised an eyebrow, smiling to yourself, already knowing your answer. “I think I could be.”

Nanami Kento chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming. It was a small moment, but it felt like a confirmation—like a prophecy about to be fulfilled. You both lingered in the silence for a beat longer than necessary, the electric tension between you undeniable.

As the night went on, the party flowed around you, but your attention never strayed far from him. Each glance, each word exchanged, only built on the anticipation. By the time you said your goodbyes, you were already planning out the next week in your head.

When you finally parted ways, your phone buzzed almost immediately. A message from him.

Next week, then.

You smiled, already thinking about how things would unfold. In your mind, you could see it—how he’d pick you up like it was nothing, his strength and control so effortless. You pictured the way he’d pull you close, then spin you around, always so deliberate but never rushed. The chemistry was undeniable, it was practically written in the stars. Bed chem, the kind that left no room for hesitation.

And when that moment finally came, you knew everything would fall into place, just like you imagined. The perfect rhythm, the thermostat set just right, every movement in sync.

It was only a matter of time.

The days that followed felt like a slow burn, each one stretching out as you found yourself replaying that moment over and over. The anticipation built, winding tighter with every passing thought of him. Every time your phone buzzed, your pulse quickened, hoping it was another message from Nanami, and more often than not, it was.

His texts were short, simple—never too much, but just enough to keep the flame alive. He didn’t need to say much for you to read between the lines. Each message held a certain calm confidence, like he knew exactly what he was doing, just like when you saw him at the party.

Each message was a spark, feeding the fire of your fantasies. Your mind wandered constantly, imagining every possible way the encounter could unfold. You knew it wouldn’t be rushed—it was never rushed with someone like Nanami. Everything about him was measured, thoughtful, intentional.

How’s your week?

Thinking about that conversation.

Looking forward to next week.

By the time the day finally arrived, you could feel your nerves dancing in your chest, excitement pulsing beneath your skin. You chose your outfit carefully, something that balanced elegance with subtle suggestion. You wanted to look as effortlessly composed as you imagined he would be.

When you arrived at the restaurant where he had suggested you meet, the atmosphere was warm, dimly lit, and intimate. Nanami was already there, sitting at a table near the window. He looked up as soon as you walked in, his eyes locking onto yours immediately, that same intensity you remembered from the party.

As you approached, he stood to greet you, his hand resting lightly on your back as he leaned in for a polite kiss on the cheek. His touch was brief but electric, and you felt the heat rise in your chest.

“You look stunning, darling.” he said, his voice deep and smooth, just as you remembered.

You smiled, brushing off the compliment with a modest shrug, but the way his eyes lingered told you he wasn’t just being polite. The dinner itself was a dance, every word exchanged adding to the tension that simmered between you. You talked about the show, your careers, little moments from your lives—but beneath it all, there was the unspoken promise of what was to come.

It wasn’t long before the two of you found yourselves alone, walking down the quiet city streets. The cool night air did little to cool the heat that was growing between you. His hand brushed yours as you walked, a casual but deliberate touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

Then, as if on cue, he stopped, turning to face you. His eyes held yours for a long moment, the city lights casting shadows over his sharp features.

“Should we continue this somewhere more private?” His voice was calm, but there was a subtle edge to it, the tension in his question making your breath catch.

You nodded, your heart racing as he reached for your hand, his grip firm but gentle as he led you toward his place. The walk was quiet, the air thick with anticipation. When you finally arrived, it felt like the world had slowed down, the moment you had been waiting for was finally here.

YOU WERE ASTOUNDED HOW SUAVE HIS EXISTENCE IS. The sight of his apartment took you by surprise, sleek and minimal yet warm, much like him. Everything was perfectly arranged, clean lines and subtle comfort that mirrored his understated charm. You couldn’t help but admire him, drawn in by everything he was. The more you were around him, the more you wanted—his presence, his touch, his everything.

He glanced at you, his gaze never wavering as he slipped off his jacket, hanging it neatly over the back of a chair. In an instant, he was standing before you, hands on your waist, drawing you close with a quiet, commanding energy. The world outside faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in the dimly lit room.

His lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm as he whispered, "I’ve been thinking about this all week." 

The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could respond, his lips found yours. The kiss was slow at first, deliberate, as if savoring the moment. You could feel the excitement become even more palpable in you.

Each movement of his mouth felt carefully measured, like he had been imagining this for far longer than you realized. His hands moved with an easy confidence, sliding across your body, each touch making you feel as though he had memorized every inch of you.

When he lifted you, it felt seamless, effortless, as though you weighed nothing at all in his arms. He carried you to the bedroom, his strong grip both protective and possessive.

There was an undeniable chemistry between you—every brush of his skin against yours, every touch electric and charged with desire. His movements were slow, savoring the build-up, as if he had waited too long for this moment to rush through it.

Your breaths came out shallow and uneven as his lips moved from yours, down the length of your neck, leaving a burning trail in their wake. Each press of his mouth against your skin felt deliberate, purposeful, sending sparks of heat coursing through you. 

His scent filled the space between you, rich and heady, mixing with the warmth of his body as he pressed closer. Every inch of you was aware of him—the solid strength of his frame, the way his breath hitched slightly as his hands roamed over you.

Kento’s fingers grazed the curve of your waist before tightening on your hips, pulling you against him with a quiet but undeniable hunger. The sensation of his body molded so tightly to yours made your heart race, your skin tingling with anticipation. 

You bit your lip, trying to steady your breath, but it was impossible under the weight of his touch, his presence. His knee nudged between your thighs, parting them with a gentle yet insistent pressure, the friction sending a fresh wave of desire flooding through you.

"You feel so good, sweetie." he whispered, his voice low and rough, filled with want.

A soft moan slipped from your lips as his hands roamed lower, teasing the edge of your clothes before slipping beneath the fabric. His fingers dug in, just enough to make you gasp, his touch hot against your skin. The sensation of him—his rough palms gliding over your bare skin, the tension coiling between you—was intoxicating, leaving you breathless.

You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your neck, clearly pleased with the effect he was having on you. "I love hearing you like that, sweetie." he murmured, his breath warm and teasing as his mouth hovered near your ear. "Don’t hold back."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching toward him as his fingers dipped lower, exploring you with an eagerness that made you ache. You gasped, unable to stop the sound that escaped your throat as his fingers slipped inside you, moving with a skill that left you trembling.

"Oh—Kento. Oh, baby….." you whimpered, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as your body pressed closer to his, desperate for more of his touch. He groaned softly in response, the sound vibrating through you.

His fingers moved inside you with purpose, every stroke calculated, every flick of his wrist sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His thumb found the sensitive bundle of nerves that made you cry out, your hips bucking instinctively against him.

"God, you’re so responsive. I like that." he growled, his voice rough with desire. His free hand gripped your waist, holding you steady as his fingers moved faster, building a rhythm that had you teetering on the edge of control.

"I want you to come for me, sweetheart." he breathed against your ear, his voice low and commanding.

You couldn’t help it. The way he touched you, the way he knew exactly what you needed—it was too much. Your body responded without hesitation, muscles tightening as pleasure coiled deep inside you, ready to snap. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, broken and breathless, as you reached that sweet crescendo, your body trembling in his arms.

Kento didn’t want to stop, didn’t slow, as you rode the wave of pleasure. His fingers stayed inside you, coaxing every last bit of sensation from you, until you were left breathless, trembling, and utterly undone in his arms.

Kento’s fingers slowly withdrew, leaving you sensitive and aching, but he wasn’t done. His sharp gaze darkened as he looked down at you, his breath hot against your skin. He shifted, positioning himself between your thighs, and you felt a fresh rush of heat flood through you as his hands gently spread your legs wider, exposing your most sensitive, intimate places to him.

"You look incredible, slick like this." he murmured, his voice husky with desire. His eyes roamed over your body, lingering on every curve and soft line before settling on the glistening heat between your legs. The way he looked at you, so intent, so focused, made your heart race even faster.

Without a word, he lowered his head, his lips brushing the inside of your thigh with soft, teasing kisses. You shuddered beneath him, anticipation buzzing through your veins as his mouth inched closer to where you needed him most.

When his tongue finally flicked against your sensitive folds, you gasped, your back arching off the bed as pleasure shot through you. His touch was gentle at first, soft and exploratory, as if he was savoring the moment. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he took his time, each lick and kiss slow and deliberate.

"Kento—" you moaned, your voice breathless and needy. His hands slid up your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin as he held you steady, his mouth working against you with a precision that drove you wild.

"Mm, s’ good." he hummed against you, the vibration of his voice sending a fresh wave of sensation through your core. His tongue swirled over your clit, slow and deliberate, before he sucked gently, and the world around you seemed to blur as pleasure bloomed deep in your belly.

"You taste so sweet. So so sweet." he growled at you, his voice low and full of hunger. He didn’t give you a moment to recover, his mouth returning to its work, tongue stroking over you in long, languid movements that left you trembling beneath him.

Your hands gripped the sheets, your body writhing against his mouth as he worked you closer to the edge. Every flick of his tongue, every soft press of his lips had you teetering on the brink, the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you.

"Please, please." you whimpered, your hips bucking against his face. "Don’t stop, Kento—"

He growled softly in response, his hands tightening on your thighs to hold you still as he intensified his pace. His tongue moved faster, more insistently, flicking and stroking your clit with a pressure that made you cry out. You could feel yourself unraveling, your body trembling uncontrollably as he pushed you closer and closer to release.

The heat inside you built with every stroke of his tongue, every soft moan he let out against you, until you couldn’t hold back any longer. Your body tensed, your muscles tightening as the pleasure overwhelmed you, and with a final, desperate cry, you came undone, your release crashing over you in waves.

Kento could only find himself addicted in your taste, his mouth continuing to work against you, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm until you were trembling, breathless, and utterly spent beneath him. Finally, he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal, and he looked up at you with a satisfied, almost possessive smile.

"You’re incredible, sweetie." he whispered, his voice rough and low as he moved back up your body, his lips finding yours again in a slow, heated kiss. You could taste yourself on him, and it only made you want him more.

"Kento..." you breathed, your voice barely audible but full of want. The way you said his name made him pause, his eyes darkening with desire as they met yours.

He leaned in again, his lips hovering near your ear, his voice deep and rough. “Gonna keep making you feel good, sweetie.” 

His thumb brushed against your lower lip before claiming your mouth again in a kiss that was no longer soft or patient but filled with raw, undeniable hunger. His need for you was palpable now, every kiss, every touch pushing you both closer to the edge.

The night unraveled slowly, deliberately, as if time itself bowed to the intensity of the moment. His movements, once restrained and careful, had given way to a raw passion that filled the air with a palpable heat. The soft glow of moonlight slipping through the curtains cast fleeting shadows on his face, highlighting the quiet hunger in his eyes as he gazed down at you.

His lips, warm and persistent, traced a slow, deliberate path over the curve of your neck, sending shivers cascading down your spine. Your breath hitched as his mouth moved lower, each kiss searing your skin with a promise of what was to come. 

His fingers followed, brushing against your skin with the lightest of touches, drawing a soft gasp from you. Every time he whispered your name, his voice low and filled with desire, it felt like the room itself pulsed in response, his words sinking into your very core.

“God, you’re so beautiful, sweetie.” he murmured, his breath hot against your collarbone, his eyes dark with an intensity that made your heart race.

Your body arched beneath him, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation building with every gentle caress. He paused for a moment, hovering above you, his gaze locked with yours, the weight of his control making your pulse quicken. It was as if he could sense every thought, every want, every need—knowing exactly how to unravel you. And you, caught in the tide of his desire, could do nothing but surrender.

“Please...” you breathed, the word slipping from your lips before you could even stop yourself. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes remained focused, intent.

His hands moved lower, his touch no longer teasing but commanding, each movement calculated to drive you closer to the edge. Your fingers tangled in the sheets, the anticipation almost unbearable as his lips brushed against your ear, sending another wave of heat through your body.

“I’ve got you, sweetie.” he whispered, his voice a dark promise that sent a jolt of desire straight through you. And then, finally, after what felt like an eternity of delicious torment, he positioned himself above you, his body pressing against yours in a way that made you ache with need. “Doin’ so good for me already, aren’t you?”

When he entered you, it felt like the culmination of everything—the tension, the desire, the quiet longing that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. A soft moan escaped your lips as he filled you completely, his movements slow and deliberate, each thrust deep and steady, leaving you breathless.

Your hands found his back, your nails digging in as you clung to him, the intensity of it all building between you like a storm ready to break. His breath was ragged now, mingling with yours in the heated air, every thrust a silent declaration of the connection that bound you together.

“Don’t stop, Kento…. Don’t…Oh—” you whispered, your voice breaking as he moved faster, his control unraveling just enough for you to feel the full force of his desire. His lips found yours again, his kiss rough and hungry, matching the rhythm of his body as you moved together, lost in the heat and the need for more.

Each movement, each breath, felt like an unspoken promise, his body telling you everything he couldn’t say aloud. In that moment, there was no space for hesitation, no room for anything but the overwhelming intensity of him, of you, of the way you fit together so perfectly.

When you finally came, it was everything you hadn’t known you needed. Kento’s name fell from your lips over and over, a soft chant as waves of pleasure washed over you, your body tightening around his. The intensity of it left you breathless, your fingers clutching him as if afraid to let go. Moments later, he followed you, his body tensing as he found his own release, his low groan sending shivers through you all over again.

For a long time, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the quiet, shared breaths of two people completely undone by the moment. He pulled you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively, his warmth enveloping you as you lay tangled together, the weight of what had just passed between you still lingering in the air.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft but filled with satisfaction. “Well, I think you got your answer.” 

“Oh? About what?”

“We have bed chem.” He grins at you, kissing your shoulder. 

You blinked and then laughed.

You could feel your heart still racing, and looked up at him, knowing that this moment was just the beginning.

epilogue 

The sunlight filtered through the bedroom window, casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets that barely covered your body. You stretched lazily, feeling the soft, comforting weight of the blankets and the familiar presence of Nanami beside you.

His arm was draped over your waist, his chest rising and falling steadily as he slept. The peaceful moment was too perfect to pass up, so you quietly reached for your phone, snapping a quick picture of the two of you in the soft morning light.

The sheets barely covered your bodies, your bare skin visible beneath the white fabric. The scene was intimate, cozy, and full of the quiet warmth of a morning spent wrapped in each other’s arms. You couldn’t resist adding a cheeky caption before posting it online:

“Come right on me, I mean camaraderie.”

The double entendre made you giggle quietly as you hit "post" knowing it was bound to get some playful reactions. You leaned back into the pillows, snuggling against Kento, who stirred slightly at your movement, his hand tightening around your waist.

“What are you up to?” he mumbled sleepily, his voice rough from sleep. His eyes opened just enough to catch your mischievous grin.

“Nothing… Just posting a little morning memory, darling.” you teased, unable to contain the laughter bubbling up inside you. Kento’s brow furrowed, clearly suspicious but too tired to press further.

It didn’t take long for the comments to start rolling in. Within minutes, his phone buzzed repeatedly on the nightstand. Kento could only feel himself groaning, reaching for it, and as soon as he saw the notifications lighting up the screen, his eyes widened in realization.

“You didn’t…?” His voice trailed off as he stared at the picture you had posted, the cheeky caption front and center.

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, watching as Nanami’s expression shifted from confusion to mild horror, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. He scrolled through the comments, and you could see the flood of teasing messages from his castmates already coming in.

@/GojoSatoru: Nanami, my man! Didn’t know you had this side to you! 😂

@/Geto Suguru: Yo, Kento…….You really kinky IRL, huh?

@/HaibaraYu: Is that what we call ‘teamwork’ now? Guess I’ve been doing it all wrong… 😏

@/IeiriShoko: Honestly? Kinda iconic. But also, never gonna let you live this down.

Kento could feel his blush deepened as he kept scrolling, his lips pressed into a thin line, clearly flustered. His hand ran through his hair in frustration, and he glanced at you with an exasperated but fond look.

“I can’t believe you posted that, sweetie.” he muttered, shaking his head as more notifications flooded in. “They’re never going to stop teasing me about this.”

You couldn’t stop giggling, leaning over to kiss his cheek, which was now bright red. “Come on, it’s cute. They’ll forget about it soon enough… maybe.”

Kento groaned again, but there was a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulled you closer. “You’re impossible, hm.” he said, though the warmth in his voice made it clear he wasn’t actually upset. He kissed your forehead softly, the tension in his body relaxing as he resigned himself to the teasing. “Too impossible.”

“I don’t mind being impossible if it makes you blush like this.” you teased, running your fingers through his hair, enjoying the rare sight of Kento looking flustered.

“Don’t push your luck, sweetie.” he replied, though the way his arms wrapped around you betrayed the affection behind his words. He sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I guess I’ll have to get used to being the subject of their jokes for a while.”

You grinned, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

Nanami chuckled softly, the sound low and comforting. “You already have, sweetheart.” he murmured, his hand brushing a lock of hair away from your face. His eyes softened as he looked at you, the teasing forgotten as the moment between you became tender again.

“I don’t care what they say, though.” he added quietly. “All that matters is this. Us.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, the teasing moment giving way to a warmth that spread through your chest. You snuggled closer into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours, and smiled.

“Good. So do I.” you whispered, kissing him again, the teasing fading into the background as the two of you enjoyed the quiet intimacy of the morning.

Nanami Kento could feel his phone buzzing again, but this time, neither of you bothered to check it. Let them tease—it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding comfort in the simple joy of being together.

[vxntagedior]

protector

summary | the moment bucky fell in love with you

pairing | mob!bucky barnes x fem!reader

warning | angst, arranged marriage, age gap, insecurity, violence, fluff ending

word count | 1.5k

You didn’t know anyone in that room. Staying flanked to Bucky’s side, letting him parade you around the room as he talked with the other men he did business with. It wasn’t no secret about what Bucky did, it was how you married him. 

Being the only child, and along with being a girl, your father wanted someone to pass down his business to, though offering it to you first, declining immediately because you couldn’t be a part of the mob, Bucky was next pick. 

Bucky came from his own lineage, his own family wealth, already the boss of his family business and now the head of yours. After getting married, you moved into his family estate, far from your father and mother, but having the little words of encouragement from your mother made it a little better. 

“If he ever hurts you physically or mentally, his reputation be damned, I’ll get you out of there.”

Bucky was the opposite of what you expected, he was respectful towards you since the wedding, making sure to put your comfort first even though your marriage was purely transactional. 

Your parents' relationship was the same, but your mother grew to love your father, and the way he worshiped her made her safe. You wanted that one day with Bucky. 

Giving a small smile to all the people you passed, there were a few men murmuring to each other about your relationship, some of the women glaring at you, all the same looks you received once you were married. 

It wasn’t no secret Bucky was handsome, powerful and wealthy, the whole package to women in the room, and they were envious, a little jealous. 

Bucky’s arm was around your waist, squeezing you occasionally, reminding you that he was still looking out for you. Coming up to a group of men, Bucky slid his hand away from you, shaking the hand of everyone. 

“And you all know my wife.” He smiled, reattaching his arm. Smiling behind your champagne glass, you just nodded, glancing over each other before your eyes widened. 

Brock Rumlow. 

Brock was originally supposed to marry you, but once your father heard about what he had done to a business partner's daughter, he cut ties with him. You remembered Brock in your father’s office, the two of them yelling back and forth, hiding behind a pillar, seeing him storm out the estate. 

Looking out of the corner of his eye, Bucky noticed how you tensed you quickly, looking down at the ground, keeping that in his head, he whisked the two of you away. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice was rough, turning so he could fully look at you. 

“It’s nothing.” You shook your head, not wanting to ruin his night. Bucky just looked at you, but you kept up your wall, “It’s fine, I just thought I saw something.”

Bucky knew you were lying but he wasn’t going to demand you to tell him, just nodding, “You tell me anything if somethings wrong, I don’t care.”

You just nodded, agreeing with him. 

Sitting down for dinner, happy that the two of you had a table to yourselves, but seeing as everyone was looking at the two of you, mostly you, waiting for your next move, like they were waiting for you to do something wrong. 

“Don’t worry about them.” Bucky whispered, “They’re just envious of you.”

That made you calm down a little bit, finishing up your dinner, making your way towards the stage. 

Watching Bucky walk up, you smiled, clapping loudly for him. Standing on the edge of the room, you stayed out of eyesight from everyone, well almost everyone. 

Brock had been watching you since the moment you walked in with Bucky. He knew it was you that messed up the arrangement, watching as Bucky came in at the 11th hour, taking all of it from him. 

“Well, well, finally alone Mrs. Barnes.” Tensing up at his voice, you tried to get away from Brock, not being past enough, him grabbing onto your upper arm dragging you away. 

“Let me go!, stop!” You tried to yell but it seemed like Bucky’s speech was ending, and as everyone started to clap, it canceled out your plea for help.

“Shut up, you bitch!” He shoved you against the wall, cornering you. Turning your face away from him, your arm starting to bruise, tears starting to cascade down your cheeks. “You ruined my life!”

“What?” You didn’t understand what he had been saying. Scoffing, Brock brought his hand to your face, smacking you across the face. Letting out a gasp, your hand instantly came up to your cheek, cradling. 

“BUCKY!” You tried to yell, some sound coming out before Brock covered your mouth. You knew what he was capable of, your eyes wide, pleading for him to let you go. 

“You know,” He smirked, his other hand slowly creeping up your leg, “I always wanted something from Barnes, his fortune, but I think I got a better prize tonight.”

Before anything could go further, Bucky had been looking for you since he was on stage, remembering where you were standing, seeing how you were gone. Scanning the room again, he saw how Brock was also gone, assuming the worst. 

Ending his speech early, he darted off the stage, making his way towards the back of the gala, hearing you call for him.

“BUCKY!” 

Eyes wide, Bucky followed the sound of your voice, running down one of the empty hallways, seeing you at the end of it. Seeing red, Bucky stormed towards Brock, shoving him off you, slamming him into the wall. 

“You piece of shit.” He spit at him, his forearm pressing against neck, Brock gasping for air, “You think you come here and mess with my wife.”

“C’mon Barnes, she was asking for it.” He smirked. Bucky’s eyes hardened, stepping away from Brock, before swinging a punch to his face. 

You gasped, your hands covering your mouth, not knowing what to do, if you should pull Bucky off him or go call for help, both a bad idea.

Standing there helpless, you watched as Bucky punched Brock til the point he was unconscious. 

Standing up, wiping the blood from his nose, Bucky turned back to you, seeing the two bruises on you. 

“Are you bleeding?” His hands were soft on your cheek, caressing the bruise carefully, not wanting to hurt you anymore. 

“No.” You whispered, “But it hurts a lot.”

Saying nothing more, Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing you to the car, forgetting about the gala all together. 

“We can’t leave.” You protested. 

“Your hurt, nothing is more important.” He stated, leaving no room for you to argue. Letting you hold his hand the entire way home, your thumb slightly moved over his bruised knuckles, touching it softly like he did when he held your cheek. 

Driving in the estate, barely bringing the car into park, Bucky was already out the door, coming to your side, bringing you into the bathroom. 

Pulling out the first aid and medical equipment he had, setting you up on the bathroom counter, Bucky rummaged through it all. 

“Nothing’s gonna make it go away.” You whispered, not wanting to get him mad, “It’ll go away on its own eventually.”

You didn’t know what caused it, but watching him freeze, his head still looking down, you heard him let out a sob. 

“Bucky.” You said cautiously. Looking up at you, tears now in his eyes, Bucky couldn’t help but apologize. 

“I’m sorry.” He choked, “I’m so sorry.”

Wrapping his arms around you, Bucky cried onto your dress, his head pressed against your chest. Not really knowing what to do, you slowly cradled his head in your arms, running your hair through his hair. 

“It’s okay.” You whispered, pulling him away from you, wiping away his tears. “I never told you about it and you were protecting me, that’s all I could ever do for you.”

It was like a lightbulb in both of your heads had clicked, looking into his eyes, before looking down at his lips before looking up at him again. Bucky seemed to have the same idea, slowly leaning in. 

The kiss was soft, your hands still on his face, slowly moving your lips in sync with his. Pulling away, you rested your forehead onto his, smiling softly. That kiss was the first one since you were married and had been better than you imagined. 

Letting out a watery laugh, Bucky stood between your legs, his hands on your waist. “I wanted to do that for so long.”

“Really.” You whispered, you always thought Bucky never really thought about a romantic relationship with you. 

“And I know that we haven’t really been a married couple, and I didn’t want to pressure you into anything, letting you take the first steps. I know that I wasn’t your first choice, but I promise you, I will always make sure you’re okay, you are my number 1 priority, I didn’t marry you for your father’s chair, I married you because I knew that I could see a family with you.”

Smiling, you caressed his cheek, sighing softly. “I love you.”

Bucky always believed that he didn’t have a heart, he didn’t have any love in his body, never imagining he’d be married let alone being married to one of the most wonderful women he had ever met. 

“I love you too, my love, with my whole being.”

fin.

[after-witch]

The Driven Snow [Yandere Coriolanus Snow x Reader]

Title: The Driven Snow [Yandere Coriolanus Snow x Reader]

Synopsis: You're a District 2 school graduate who comes to the Capitol with her father before the 11th Hunger Games. You don't expect to meet anyone kind, especially not someone named Coriolanus Snow who offers you his arm, his smile, and treats in secret. 

Word Count: 5270

notes: yandere, abusive relationship, non-graphic descriptions of torture and death (not against reader); uses a mixture of book and movie canon

The Capitol was not as dazzling as your father described it but then, he had seen it before the war. Though perhaps it was your own bitterness that made you ignore the signs of returning prosperity that sets it above everywhere else.

The repaired elaborate buildings, the fresh pungent smell of plaster and paint. The cars pumping exhaust fumes into the air. The low rumble of garbage trucks that pick up bright green garbage cans, some of which are actually teeming with plastic trash bags. Such waste was unheard of, even in the oh-so-loyal District 2, where only the lowest of the low find themselves starving.

Although not-starving didn’t mean that everything was plentiful. 

You, though, were lucky enough to avoid the lima bean heavy diet that some of your classmates (now former--graduation was months ago) lived on. Or were you? The meat that graced your family’s dinner table, the pats of butter on toast, were all courtesy of your father’s  immense talent in building creative weapons that allowed the Capitol to stamp out every last bit of rebellion in the Districts. That allowed them to regain control. That allowed them to create the Hunger Games.

Which is why you were in the Capitol now. Oh, not to participate in them. Your father’s status in District 2 had seen to that; it would be a scandal if the name of his beloved daughter were to ever be pulled. 

You were there because your father had been given a lucrative contract, one that was sure to cement your family’s wealth for generations: a contract to build high-tech weapons for the Hunger Games themselves. 

They would still be killing. But on a much smaller scale, you supposed, than the weapons your father designed during the war. 

Still. Blood was blood. And if it had to be spilled, well, there was nothing you could do about it except hope they died quickly. Especially the ones from District 2.

Last year’s Games’ had been awful enough. Your family had watched the Games on a modest television set in the privacy of your living room, sent courtesy of the Capitol. 

You wondered if you would ever get the sight of Marcus’ battered, bloated face from your mind; if you would ever unhear the way his body thumped to the ground when that girl had killed him, out of mercy. If you would ever stop imagining what it must have felt like in those last moments.

But it wasn’t all horror. You’d liked Lucy Gray well enough, even though she was from 12. She had a wild way of dressing and the singing--it was practically theatrical, compared to what you’d heard about the previous games. 

Maybe that was why your father got this contract: theatrics. Maybe the games would be more dramatic from now on. Maybe they wanted tributes like Lucy Gray, who sang and spit and poisoned her way to Victory. It was strange, really, that there’d been hardly any talk of her since her win. 

“Father?” You asked, quietly as you could. 

Both of you were standing in the foyer of the grand university in the Capitol. The outside was still a little ravaged, but inside, it was perfectly lovely. Walls lined with books--perhaps some of them were fake--and marble floors and marble busts dotting the sight lines.

“Mm?” He replied, eyes scanning over his clipboard. He flips it, here and there.

“I was just thinking. About last year’s games. About Lucy Gray, and how the Games--”

Your father rounded on you, eyes suddenly serious and blazing.

“Quiet. Weren’t you paying attention on the way here?” Admittedly, you were not. You’d been daydreaming about what you might do now that you were done with school. There was no university in District 2, and your father hadn’t even mentioned a job. “You’re not supposed to mention--”

“Not supposed to mention whom? Ah, ah, ah. Lucy Gray Baird?” called a voice, almost in sing-song.

Your father stood up stiff, and the life seemed to drain from his face.

Both of you look towards the sound of the voice, and now it’s your turn to stiffen. The voice came from a woman standing in the doorway of the very office that your father was waiting to enter. She was wearing an elaborate jacket made of what looked like rainbow snake scales. Her hair was gray and curly. She had, you realized, two different colored eyes. 

Your father swallowed, and you could see the apple of it bob up and down. It made you think, abruptly, of suckling pigs. 

“Dr. Gaul,” he said, in a voice far too tight to be relaxed. “I apologize for my daughter’s insubordination, I assure you, she meant no--”

Dr. Gaul waved her hands at him and approached you. 

“Did you like last year’s games?” She didn’t look angry. No, she looked delighted.

“I…” It was your turn to swallow, your turn to feel that tightness. “It-it was the first time I’ve watched them, ma’am.” You want to ask this woman: do you think I liked watching someone from my District 2 so horribly? Or any District, really? Did I like it? 

Her smile grew wider. 

“I’m glad. You’ll be watching them every year from now on, I hope. We have big plans.” Her eyebrows raised high. “Big changes. Thanks to men like your father.” She glanced at him and you saw disdain flicker across her gaze. 

And then another door opened, and you heard the sound of polished shoes on the marble floor. Dr. Gaul’s attention dropped away from you like you were nothing at all. She turned to meet the sound of these footsteps, and you did too.

It was a young man. Probably your age, you thought, with light blonde hair and eyes that your mother would have described as “baby blue.” He didn’t look at you, or your father. But that was nothing new. You’d only been in the Capitol for 2 days, and you’d already gotten used to being treated as lesser than. Though, at least, you were not so far down on the food chain that you lost your tongue. 

“Ah, my protege,” said Dr. Gaul, giving the young man a grin. The smile on her face almost looked warm, which was somehow far more terrifying than her manic smile from earlier. “Ever the earnest student. Aren’t you supposed to be enjoying the day off, Mr. Snow?”

The young man, this “Snow,” chuckled and lowered his gaze. “I couldn’t stay away once I heard you were discussing some of the new prototypes for this year’s games.” 

He finally looked at your father, and then at you. But only briefly.

“Can I assume that this is…?”

Dr. Gaul nodded.

“Yes. My little designer from District 2. And his daughter.” Her voice dropped a few octaves when she referred to you. She probably didn’t want you here, you thought. You weren’t supposed to come, but your father had begged the Capitol for a pass; it would probably be your only chance to see it, he said, so you may as well take advantage of the chance.

Snow nodded to your father. It was a surprising gesture, almost respectful. But cold, too, like it was done from necessity rather than anything else. 

Your father stammered a bit and nodded back, and you felt shame begin to creep into your bones. It wasn’t fair, to be lesser-than. But weren’t others lesser-than you in your own District, where you ate better food and never worried that your name would get picked, that your blood would be spilled?

Everyone 

But when Snow turned to you, he smiled. It gave him dimples. 

It was the first kind smile anyone in the Capitol gave you. 

“My name is Coriolanus Snow. I doubt you’ve heard of me, but if Dr. Gaul’s teachings have anything to say about it, perhaps one day you’ll know me as a Gamemaker.” 

You didn’t know what to say. Congratulations, one day you’ll be coordinating Games that kill people? Instead,  you gave your name, voice squeakier than you meant it. But it was fitting, you supposed. Here, you were a mouse, hoping you would get a bite of cheese and make it home unpoisoned. 

Dr. Gaul’s face seemed to react slowly, as if she couldn’t decide what she thought about his words or your interaction, but a small smile grew on it, eventually. “I do have high hopes for you, Mr. Snow. Now, shall we?”

She gestured for your father to follow, face once again impassive with a sprinkle of disdain, as she led the two of them into her office.

Snow gave you a smile and a nod before he left.

You waved, stupidly.

Your father didn’t even look back.

--

I’m dead. I’m dead. I might as well be dead.

Your heartbeat kept time with your racing thoughts as you went up and down corridors, begging your shoes to be silent, wishing your breath would catch and stop coming out in terrible pants.

You were lost. You weren’t where you were supposed to be. If someone found you, if the wrong person found you, they would think you were running, trying to get lost in the Capitol; they’d think  you were a rebel. They’d shoot you.

Just when you thought you might collapse and die from your own nervous exhaustion, you heard the most wonderful sound in the world.

Your name.

It was only the moment after that you realized it didn’t come from your father’s mouth, but the lips of--what his name--Coriolanus Snow. The young man who was a Gamemaker-in-training, or so your father said. But that’s all he would say. He kept tight about anything that went on behind closed doors. 

But this Coriolanus Snow smiled at you, and didn’t look at you like you were some kind of insect he might want to pin on a board, and so when you whirled around to look at him you were smiling.

Ah--for a moment. For just a moment, you saw his muscles tense. You saw the expression on his face falter in worry. Like he thought he was about to miss a step on a staircase, and corrected himself; like he thought you were a wolf and you were only somebody’s dog, off their leash. 

But it wasn’t too surprising. You knew most people in the Capitol thought anyone from the Districts wanted to rip out their throats. 

Well, the worry was mutual. Except in your case, you were forced to walk around with the living proof of that worry--all those “Avoxes,” they called them. Without tongues, without freedom. 

But you swallow all that. Because he smiled at you. Because maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend. Especially right now.

“I’m--I’m lost,” you tell him, giving a shaky smile. “I was waiting for my father, but you see, I got to thinking, and I started to wander around and now I’m… well. I don’t know where I am, actually.”

His smile wasn’t very deep, was it? It was like the gloss of paint on the outside of the Capitol buildings. Pretty to look at, but there must be more underneath.

You expected him to lead you right back to where you’re supposed to be.

Instead, he asked you something.

“What were you thinking about?

You couldn’t tell him. Could you? But something about 

“About… the Games.”

You don’t tell him that you were thinking about Lucy Gray and all those snakes, and the way that Dr. Gaul’s outfit that first day made you think of them. Because your father had slapped you across the face when you got back to your lodgings that night, and told you to never, ever bring up Lucy Gray Baird or the 10th Games unless you were directly asked. And you would probably never be asked. 

Coriolanus gave a little snort through his nose. You liked it. It was nice to know that even Capitol people could seem a little dorky.

“They aren’t for another 3 months. Are you that eager to see them?”

You didn’t know what expression you made, exactly. It was so instinctive and fast that you didn’t have time to control it. 

You only knew that it made him shake his head and offer you a sympathetic look.  

“I apologize. That was rude, wasn’t it?” 

And then he did a strange thing.

He offered you his arm. 

Like you were Capitol, like you were a real person, and not some visiting District wench walking on the coattails of her arms-dealing father. 

“Let me walk you back to the waiting area.”

And the stranger thing?

You took it.

--

You and your father were quickly moved into a small apartment within the university, once it became clear that he would be staying in the Capitol through the duration of the Games. It was best, he said, because ordinary people in the Capitol didn’t really want to see new faces from the Districts mingling around unless their tongue had been cut out first. It made them nervous. The rebel bombings, and all that.

You didn’t mind, because it meant you didn’t have to be flanked by Peacekeepers on the streets. 

And, well.

You got to see Coriolanus more often. Sometimes he greeted you, sometimes he didn’t. He did it less often when Dr. Gaul was there,  unless she was talking to your father and it gave him an opportunity.

He asked you things, too, when he caught you walking back to your father’s little apartment. Like what you did back home. What you liked to do. Whether you went to school, and what you planned to do now that you have graduated. 

This morning, he caught you drawing while you waited in a chair outside Dr. Gaul’s office. Sometimes you waited there--you would admit to no one that it was to catch a glimpse of the kindest person you’d met in the Capitol--and other times you stayed in your temporary home.

“What are you drawing?” He asked. But he had a way of speaking that you’d quickly clocked into. He can make a demand sound like a polite little question. Oh, he wasn’t mean about it, but it reminded you of the way your father talked to his underlings back in District 2. On his home turf, he was far smoother than he was here, where his voice stammered and sweat beaded on his neck.

So you handed it over, even though, to your greatest embarrassment, you’d drawn… him.

“Why me?” He had a smile on his lips. His smiles were nice. Kind. The kindest you’d seen since you came here. But they always felt like that fresh coat of paint; like you didn’t know what he really meant by them, and that was how he liked it. 

“You’re… important,” is all you could come up with. You felt small, then. He would dismiss and probably never want to talk to you again. What a stupid answer from a stupid girl. 

But he just smiled. It was like paint peeling a little.  You could see underneath that he liked what you said, although you weren’t exactly sure why. And his expression tightened up so quickly, protecting what you’d seen, that you weren’t entirely sure if it was real or not. 

“I’m just a humble student at this university. Not so important. Not yet.”

--

You were really going to die, now. This wasn’t some panicked imagination gone wrong, some flight of fancy that took a wrong turn.

A pair of stony-faced Peacekeepers had walked up to where you sat in the waiting area near Dr. Gaul’s office and ordered you to come with them.

You asked to talk to your father. They said no. You asked where you were going. They yanked you up. 

And now they were leading you down hallways that you’d never seen before, where there weren’t even Avoxes roaming the halls with brooms and dustpans. 

They didn’t even answer, just spun around and walked back the way they came. You pushed the door open reluctantly--what the hell was going to be on the other side?--and it was--it was--

It was Coriolanus. Standing there in a nice suit, eyes downcast on a book. Until the door creaked and he looked up.

“What--why did you bring me here? Did I do something wrong?” The thought went through you, that perhaps this had all been a test, to see if you were loyal to the Capitol and he’d found you wanting.

“No,” he said, simply enough. He set the book down and gestured for you to step inside. You did, because what else were you going to do, in some strange room in a Capitol University where you’d been forcibly brought by Peacekeepers.

Snow studied your face. Your eyes darted around, from him, to the room, to the door. 

“I wanted to see you,” he said, a little softer. “In private.” 

“Me?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “But… why?”

He smiled. “Come now, you’re a smart girl, even if you aren’t in university.” 

You really didn’t know. Not at first. But then you watched the way his expression softened, and you remembered it, or glimpses of it, that he’d given you before. When he complimented your drawing. When he said your name. When he escorted you back from the maze of hallways. And his smiles, all his smiles, although you were never sure how much they meant coming from home. 

He took a step closer. You didn’t dare step back. You weren’t sure if you wanted to step back, but it didn’t matter, either way.

He pressed his lips to yours and took your first kiss, in a secluded little study in the heart of the Capitol University. 

--

Your days became routine, although the routine was strictly forbidden and could have probably gotten you executed or at best, gotten you a one-way ticket to a tasteless existence.

You wake up. You stay in your apartment.  You wait for the Peacekeepers. You get summoned here and there, always private rooms, secret rooms, rooms out of the way. You meet Snow--Coriolanus, he said, call him that--and you talk (well, mostly him) and kiss and sometimes a little bit more. He gives you gifts. Trinkets, necklaces that you can only wear under your shirt. Food, flaky pastries made with mountains of sugar, sandwiches made with cream and cucumber. 

But how much longer could it go on? The Games were going to start soon. As soon as they were over, you were going back to your District. There would be no more meetings, no more kisses. No more wondering how far he wanted to go or why he liked you or even if he even liked you as anything more than someone to keep him busy. 

You didn’t dare talk about the Games, but you did talk about this. In the kindest way you knew how for such a sensitive subject. 

“I’ll miss you,” you told Coriolanus after one meeting, when you’re both sitting on a sofa and he’s got your fingers tightly wound in his. He squeezed them tight.

“Miss me?” 

“After the Games,” you clarified. “We’re being sent home right after.”

He squeezed your fingers until it hurt a little. Then he looked up at you. To see if you would say something? Or did he not know how strong he was?

“Oh, that. I can arrange for you to stay.”

Your chest began to feel sick.

“Stay? In the Capitol?” You were torn about Coriolanus, but you didn’t want to stay here. You couldn’t. 

“Yes,” he said, as if it was the simplest answer in the world. “You wouldn’t be the first person from the District granted such an extreme privilege. I’m sure I could--”

“But I don’t know if I want to stay.” 

His gaze narrowed and you felt your stomach clench. He looked at the necklace you’d pulled out as soon as the door was shut, at your lips where a dollop of strawberry cream still rested. 

“I treat you so well, and you don’t know if you want to stay with me?”

His voice was calm, and that scared you. It would have been better if he flew off the handle.

Instead, he simply stood up and gently sent you out the door, and called the Peacekeepers to bring you back to your apartment.

--

Every night for the last week, you have cried yourself to sleep. Because every day for the last week, Coriolanus Snow has not sent for you. Not even once.

What if he told someone? What if you got sent back early, and your father was shamed? What if they broke his contract? Or--worse, worse, worse. There were so many worse things than merely being sent back to District 2.

And then he sent for you, and it was the longest walk of your life, though it was no farther than any of the times you’ve been escorted to your secret meetings.

This time, when you pushed open the door, Coriolanus was not alone. 

There was an Avox in the room. 

It was someone from District 2.

You didn’t know her. Not personally. But you saw her, before. She worked in one of the munitions factories and you watched her walk to work from your classroom window sometimes. Then she stopped showing up, and you thought perhaps she got married. 

That delusion was shattered the moment you saw her, eyes downcast to the floor, wearing a simple gray tunic. 

It’s not until Coriolanus tells you to hurry up and come in that you’re able to move. Even then, you weren’t sure how your body did it; how your arms managed to gain the mobility to shut the door, to twist the lock; how your legs moved, one foot in front of the other, until you were standing stiffly in front of him.

The Avox--you wish you knew her name, but she couldn’t give it to you now, even if you asked--moved seamlessly to a table set up nearby. There was tea and sweets. The sort of thing that you and Coriolanus had been enjoying together for the past few weeks. The sort of thing that you were sure would sit sour in your stomach, now. 

The cup shook in your hands when she handed it to you, and your tears dripped right into the tea.

Coriolanus glanced at the Avox and waved his hand. She left obediently. She would never tell the secret she witnessed in his room, that much was certain.

And then he looked back at you.

“Don’t cry,” he said. Soft but firm. A command, not a coo. “You shouldn’t cry here, in the Capitol. You should be grateful to be here. You should be grateful that I’ve arranged all this for you.”

“I am,” you whispered. 

“Then show me that you are.”

And you did. 

You said what he wanted and looked to him to show you how he wanted you to act, and did just that. You didn’t argue, even to lightly banter. You kissed him and nodded along when he told you about how things would be after the Games, when he had arranged for you to stay.

All you had to do was keep him happy until the Games were over, and then you could go home. 

Bitterly, all of this made you realize just how much of your father is in you; he knew how to appease the Capitol. You could do the same with Coriolanus Snow. At least until the Games were over. Just keep him happy until the Games were done and the blood was spilled, and you would go home. 

They wouldn’t let him keep you here after the games. You were sure of that. You’d overheard some of Dr. Gaul’s assistants murmuring how glad they would be to send the District profiteers like your father home once the Games were over. And you? You’re just his useless daughter, an appendage he brought like an unwelcome suitcase. Why would you be allowed to stay?

--

The Games were over. The winner was from District 1. 

You were going home any day now. Just as soon as your father finished tinkering with the designs, gave his notes on improvements that might be made for next year.

The thought gave you a delightful bounce in your step. It was like having a pat of sweet butter in your shoe on a day when you needed good luck-- District 2 superstition, although the strict rationing meant most people didn’t have even a pat to slip into their shoes anymore.

The sweetness didn’t even disappear when the Peacekeepers showed up to bring you to Snow. It was going to be a bittersweet farewell, you were sure. He might be angry. But you would kiss him and tell him that there was nothing he could do, and how sorry you were not to be able to stay, but that was how things had to be.

Except they didn’t bring you down a maze of corridors that led to a secluded room.

They brought you right into Dr. Gaul’s office.

Breakfast threatened to evacuate your stomach with every step. Not just because of nerves, but because of what you saw. Rows of experiments in glass tubes; some of them move. You walk by a room with a half-open door that showed someone strapped to a gurney, face contorted in a silent scream as they fought against restraints. You almost did lose breakfast, then.

But somehow you made it to the desk of Dr. Gaul without a dribble of vomit to show for it.

The Peacekeepers left with no fanfare and you stood there, ramrod straight. Did she know? Was she going to tell you that you were going to be strapped to one of those gurneys, now?

“I’m keenly aware,” she said, keeping her hands primly folded, “on how much you’ve enthralled my star pupil.”

Toast. That’s what will come up first, you thought . The toast.

“I don’t know what you mean, ma’am.” Your voice was so thin and tinny that you didn’t even believe yourself.

And then the prim facade cracked, and Dr. Gaul threw her head back and grinned.

“You really think I don’t know everything that goes on within these walls?  I know every time one of my lab assistants runs into the bathroom to throw up after a particularly nasty experiment. I know every time one of our university professors sneaks into a closet to down a vial of morphling with a student. And I certainly know when my newest protege is having an adorable little District girl brought to him for… canoodling.”

You weren’t even embarrassed. No.  You just felt terrified to the bone. You only hoped that you’d be killed, shot against a wall, instead of made into an Avox. Let there be some mercy in this world. 

”He’s asked to keep you, you know.” Her voice was low, almost a drawl. She tapped her fingers on her desk rhythmically.

“My Coriolanus Snow wants a bird of his own.” Her smile turned darker. “Not a songbird, though. Oh, no. I think he’s had enough of those.”

Her gaze bored into yours, each color magnified by her intense expression. “I think if I let him have his pretty caged bird, he’ll be happy. He’s more productive if he’s happy.” She smiled. “I like productivity. It keeps the Games more interesting.”

She looked you over one more time, and then waved you away.

“I’ve granted his request. You’ll be staying here indefinitely, courtesy of one Mr. Snow. Your father has already been told.” 

You were wrong.

It was not the toast that came up first, but the sweet butter you’d patted on top.

--

You still had your tongue, but you felt as though it was useless, stuck to the roof of your mouth, as Coriolanus fussed over your outfit. Or rather, as he directed an Avox to fuss over it for you. He could afford his own personal servant, now, he told you. He’d almost flinched after he said now, and you didn’t dare press him on it. Had he not been able to afford one before?

“We can’t walk arm-in-arm in public,” he said, walking around you, making sure the outfit was just-right. “But you can stand by me if I stop and direct you forward.” He reached over and fixed one of your buttons. “Don’t speak to anyone unless I’ve told you to, or they speak to you first. Always address someone older as ‘sir,’ or ‘ma’am.” He pointed at your hair, and the Avox began to fuss with it, eventually covering it in a colorful wrap that Coriolanus said was popular right now. “Address someone our age by the last name and Mr. or Ms.”

When he was satisfied with your appearance, he sent the Avox away. You liked it better that way, it was one last reminder of the horrors in the Capitol, even for someone “privileged” like you.  You’d only been without your father for 3 days, but you felt like your nerves were continually on fire. You wanted to go home. You wanted your family. You wanted out of this place.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

For now, you were still living in the small university apartment the Capitol had given your father. Coriolanus insisted on it, until he could figure out how to move you into his own sprawling apartment that he shared with his cousin, Tigris (who, at least, genuinely sounded lovely) and his grandmother, Grandma’am. She was the sticking point, or so you were told, with a thin smile. She hated Districts, and she ought to, he said. They killed her son. His father. 

She would hate you, too. Even if Coriolanus wanted you enough to make you stay with him; wanted you enough to keep you. But for how long? And would he change his mind, if you couldn’t fit in? 

He said your name, and you snapped yourself out of your thoughts. He held you by your shoulders. Gently. Like one would an unruly child that hadn’t yet learned that there were such things as salad forks and dinner forks, as polite conversation and etiquette. 

You got the feeling you wouldn’t have long to learn all of those things and more, to make him happy.

“Remember,” he said. “You’re District. You’re here because the Capitol has recognized that your loyalty can benefit us in some way. Be grateful.”

“I am,” you said, reflectively.

“Be happy..”

“I am,” you said again, your chest hitching.

He smiled at you. Was it real or not real? 

You smiled back, regardless. And he liked that, evidently, because he leaned forward and kissed you. Then he scrutinized your face and wiped at your lips with his thumb--the kiss had smeared your lipstick. 

“Good.” 

He gestured towards the open doorway. This time, he didn’t take your arm. There would be too many people lingering in the university hallways, all making their way to the soiree held to celebrate the end of this year’s Games and discuss what improvements might be made for the next year. 

You dutifully walked behind him, just like he said. And you would do exactly what he said in all respects. You would stay quiet unless you were spoken to, you would certainly never bring up anything confrontational or controversial, and you would make a good impression. You would be a loyal, grateful District citizen who was given the opportunity of a lifetime thanks to the graciousness of Coriolanus Snow. 

Of course you would. 

Your life depended on it. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

🎊 twst 4th year anni ABEMA stream 🎉

***TWST JP news + anniversary spoilers below the cut!***

The stream starts with Ace, Deuce, Jack, Ruggie, and Sebek's VAs replying to a bunch of quiz questions. I think Ace or Deuce responds with "810" when asked how many items there are on the Heartslabyul lounge's coffee table. Sebek's VA also has a hilarious answer when asked how many Draconians (wakasama fans) there are, he pulls out some super absurdly high number with tons of zeros in it.

There is then a Master Chef/Culinary Crucibles-type section where the VAs decorate their own cake for TWST's anniversary. It’s a team effort! Ace and Deuce put on the cream, Sebek added cookies on top, and Jack and Ruggie did the final decorations. It ended up looking pretty cute ^^ (Ace's VA is the one that added all the whipped cream peaks; it was mostly thanks to Ruggie's VA that the cake still looked aesthetically pleasing at the end.)

Actual game-related news time!!! The SR Grim card for the 4th anniversary is... drumroll please...!! 🥁Apprentice Chef Grim!!! ABGKSKVUkvuDSQEVUOFDFIHAFVA HE'S SO CUTE, HE EVEN HAS A LIL TUNA CAN CAKE 😭

For anniversary, there will be a series of free items given out if you log in during the event period (11th to 25th), which includes THREE 10-pull keys (released on the 11th, 15th, and 18th, respectively). You can receive up to 12 days' worth of freebies. There will be an anniversary banner as per usual; you can earn tokens by pulling on this and then trade them in for a SR magical key (50 tokens) and/or past event-limited SSRs (150 tokens), including past years' birthday cards (100 tokens). There will be a new "Event Recollection" feature which allows you to experience events that you may have missed getting the initial chance to play through yourself.

Mr. S's Mystery Shop will sell items from past events such as limited Groovy materials and spell upgrade materials. This is called the "Memory Shop".

You will be able to mark (multiple) parts of the story as your "favorite". This will be indicated with a pink heart icon.

Battles will have a new feature which allows you to save team compositions for them. Up to 25 compositions may be saved at a time. You can also pin your supports, so you no longer have to scroll to find a specific friend's character to borrow.

There will be 3 new item gachas added to the "Item Lotto" of the shop (for Crewel, Vargas, and Trein). Previously, there was only Sam's. You use a new type of medal (obtained by taking classes) to roll on the teachers' lottos, and can pull items related to what you'd typically earn in each of their classes.

Crewel's gacha may provide an herbal tea which can be used to boost Buddy Levels, including those for characters that are otherwise unable to take Alchemy classes. That means Crowley, Rollo, etc. are fair game. (Yes, you can force feed them tea to obtain FRIENDSHIP✨) The tea may also drop during Special Lessons or Alchemy class.

We finally get magical key conversion! On the summoning screen, you can turn 10 single pull keys into one 10-pull key (which guarantees at least 1 SR; single keys do not have this benefit).

The Guest Room will receive a second floor to decorate. This will be unlocked once you reach a Guest Room rank of 31.

The Guest Room rank cap will be increased from 30 to 40. Additionally, all properties of floor 1 appears to carry over to floor 2. This means the same comfort level and attributes will be present across both.

New BGMs will be added to Mr. S's Mystery Shop. There will also be new voice lines added to Alchemy, Flying, and the outfit selection screen. The official TWST soundtrack will be released on the 29th of May, though preorders are tentatively open now. It is 140+ tracks (149, to be exact!) across 4 discs and goes for 4620 yen (inclusive of tax; without tax the soundtrack is 4200 yen). Japanese retailers are offering different dorms' A5 sized holographic sticker sheets as bonuses for preordering.

That's it for now, mostly quality of life changes! There will most likely be a 4th year anniversary PV/animated short on the actual anniversary day (the 18th)!

[spideyhexx]

oct. 11th - mrs. plinth

Husband!Sejanus Plinth x Wife!Female!Reader x Coriolanus Snow

mdni!!! wc; 3.3k cw; cuckholding, p in v, some degradation, cheating, toxic reader really, lil bit of a breeding kink

kinktober 2024 masterlist

a/n; ah, the return of coryo and sejanus together in a fic. we talked about this idea/plot a while ago and it needed an appearance, so here you go lovelies!!! Enjoy!!!

Every brush of Coriolanus’ fingers was another bought of sin dumping itself all over your body. And you let yourself marinate in it each time. How could you not? Coriolanus and his perfect hair and clothes of refinery and voice as smooth as butter, it would be a complete loss if you gave up on the agreement you had with him, even after he married Livia Cardew. Even after you married Sejanus Plinth. 

You would lose the feel of his strong hips and all encompassing hands, his lips that get redder the more you kissed him and the sight of his gelled hair messy and unkempt. Not to mention the rare tender moments post-sex where Coriolanus would complain about almost everything in his life except you. 

Except you. You were excluded from Coriolanus’ complaint list which was a compliment without being a compliment. He’d be laid out, naked and panting, allowing you to share his proximity and exchange soft words until he inevitably had to leave. He was always coming to your penthouse. Livia was around too much. Sejanus too naive. But he worked. So the better option was always your apartment. 

Coriolanus came barreling into the penthouse this late morning, the keys you gave him clanging against the dish on the small foyer table. You’re in the kitchen sipping coffee. At first you think Sejanus forgot something, but you see that glimpse of Coriolanus’ hair before you see his face. 

He looks angry. His eyes icier than ever, his brow knit and his hair isn’t gelled to perfection. Disregarding the fact you weren’t expecting him right now, you don’t give him a look of shock. All you do is tilt your head at him as he nears closer, “Coriolanus, what’re you-”

His hands cup the mug in your hand and gingerly set it down on the counter behind you, then they cup your face, forcing your head up. Coriolanus slots his lips to yours in a heated passion. There’s little hesitation on your end. A surprise visit is welcomed in your eyes. You loved Sejanus. You really did love the man. He was sweet, he took care of you, he paid attention to you, he cooked, he did everything someone would want in a husband. 

But nothing lit a fire in your stomach the way his ‘best friend’ did. Nothing would ever compare to the way Coriolanus kissed you hungrily every single fucking time his lips met yours. He holds your face with a firm grip, keeping you from backing out of it, though you were not planning to. Your hands found his sides, rubbing them in what you consider a soothing manner. The nosiness in your nature wanted to know what he was so angry about. Livia? Sejanus? Work? It couldn’t be you. Couldn’t be. 

Coriolanus sinks his teeth to your bottom lip in a quick bite, then he sucks on it, smirking at your little moan. His thumbs span across your cheekbones in slow rubs, nipping your lips before giving you a break. 

You breathe out your words the moment he breaks it, “What’s wrong?” 

“Quick,” he mumbles, squeezing your face gently. Also quick. 

“What. Is. Wrong,” you repeat, enunicating each word, leaning up to caress his jaw with your mouth, coaxing an answer out of him. What you’ve learned from these years of rendezvousing with Coryo is that you might be the only woman, only person who could coax deep, dark things out of him. Not that this would be that, but it did not mean you wouldn’t use those skills. 

His jaw tightens and he keeps rubbing his thumbs on your cheeks like it’ll magically calm him down but his eyes glare still. “Livia. Just Livia…stuff.”

You raise your brow at his vagueness but the little hint that it was marital problems making him this agitated. You kiss right under his jaw, then let your teeth graze his skin. Coriolanus’ breath is heavy and he pushes his hips up to yours, crowding you against the kitchen counter. 

“She was just pissy that I’m busy all the time, that’s all,” Coriolanus concedes, but there must be more to it than that. They fight all the time about how he’s busy. And he is. Between working in his position as the Head Gamemaker and fucking you, he had little time for Miss Cardew, ahem Mrs. Snow. 

“Are you sure it’s not cause you’re barely fucking her?” 

Coriolanus scowls at you, his left hand dropping to your hip while his right grabs around your jaw, “Don’t be so crude about it,” he tells you. If you didn’t know better, you’d scoff in his face, but you had no reason to anger him more right now. Coriolanus would never truly admit that he’s just as crude as you can be. 

“So it is that?” You question, but your tone is airy. Your lips sliding into their dignified place. A smirk, to which he can’t keep his scowl too long. He rolls his eyes though. 

“Partially, yes,” Coriolanus tells you, squeezing at your hip and dipping his head back down to chase your lips. A spark runs through you and you glide your hands up his chest to his shoulders, before you lock your hands behind his neck, pulling him close. He lets you, let you steal him into the kiss, his hips jutting a bit to yours in a silent plea to take things further, but all you can focus on are his lips. 

You fucking loved that Livia was pissed about that. Coriolanus knew that. Jealousy was never in your blood, but you did feel a spark of confidence whenever Coriolanus admits he hasn’t been sleeping with his own wife when he’s supposed to be making the heir to his fortune. No, instead he’s been balls deep in you, emptying himself into you every two days until he was spent. You can’t say you’re not in a similar position with your own husband. Sejanus was a sweet lover. There was nothing inherently bad about the way he took you, but that’s almost the problem. It wasn’t sex and it wasn’t fucking, something you craved, something animalistic and primal was what you wanted. You might have mentioned it subtly to him once or twice, but Sejanus was merely not as confident in himself as he should be. 

Coriolanus presses his hips to you again, now sporting a hard-on from the way your tongue trails his lips and slides into his mouth with no purpose but to lure him in. Your skin feels hotter, his fingers digging into your jaw, while the other tries to bunch up the nightgown you’re wearing. You would have let the man fuck you against the counter Sejanus was making his lunch on this morning, but the front door opens. 

Coriolanus pulls away from you in an instant, face flushed and lips swollen, “Maid?”

You’re about to speak when Sejanus’ honeyed-voice calls out, “Sweetheart?”

Coriolanus’ nose wrinkles and he’s most likely going to slam his hand on the counter but you catch it, and push him back, taking a couple steps forward, and straightening your nightgown as best you can just as Sejanus rounds the corner into the kitchen. 

Sejanus looks to you, then to Coriolanus, who leans back against the counter behind you. “Coriolanus,” he says, giving the other man a nod, to which Coryo only gives a nod back. You’re sure your husband is assessing. He would see Coriolanus’ lips are redder. That you’re both slightly disheveled. You haven’t looked but you’re sure Coriolanus’ bulge is hard to hide. 

Now, Livia may not know of the affair. But Sejanus, he knew. 

He caught the two of you around three months ago. It took a lot of softly spoken words and convincing but you got Sejanus to believe this was okay. It did not mean he liked it. But he allowed it. Coriolanus gave you a kiss on the mouth for it when you told him. 

“I just…forgot my notebook,” Sejanus says, his eyes still darting between you two. You catch his gaze go down to Coriolanus’ crotch and it almost makes you feel that stupid pit of jealously you never feel. 

You shake those thoughts away. Sejanus looked at Coriolanus’ crotch. Oh you’re spinning. You always thought there was something between those two men, though you never pushed it. Sejanus would get too blushy and Coriolanus would probably explode. Maybe that’s why Sejanus was able to brush past the fact you’re fucking Coriolanus, but you couldn’t be completely sure. 

Everyone always called you impulsive for a reason. 

“Oh, I’m not sure where it is. Have you seen it Coryo?” You look back at him and he raises a confused brow at you. He knows you better than your husband does. He knows you’re playing at something, but what, he doesn’t know. 

“No?” 

“It’s probably just in the bedroom,” Sejanus says, having made no move to walk to the master suite of your penthouse. He shifts on his feet and you glance back over to him for a few seconds, before you land your gaze to Coriolanus again. 

You take the three steps over to him, grab his face and pull him into a hard kiss, a bruising one that has his breath shortening upon impact and his hands wrapping around you. You hear some sort of gasp leave your husband, but you don’t pull away. Neither does Coriolanus. Whether he’s figured out your game or not, you can’t stop kissing him, knowing Sejanus is staring. You don’t hear footsteps, you don’t hear him say anything, all you can hear is the wet smacking of your lips to Coriolanus’ and the man’s heavy breaths breathing a new sort of life into you. 

You don’t stop Coryo when he ruts his hips into yours, making you feel how hard he is, that he’s not planning on backing down for whatever you’ve got brewing in your head. It spurs you on, leaning your head back and breaking the kiss, letting Coriolanus taint your neck in sin as your eyes lock to Sejanus’. 

He’s flushed, mouth slightly parted. A hand to the counter near the doorway and his pants tight. 

You moan. 

Coriolanus lifts his head, having not expecting the sound yet, but he glances to Sejanus, notices the same thing you did, then shares a look to your husband. 

…

It was a blur. Coriolanus tugging you to your bedroom, to yours and Sejanus’ bedroom. Telling Sejanus to come with, Sejanus actually following. 

In your fantasy, Sejanus would cut the shit and kiss the life out of you, fuck you like he should and show he’s your husband, but the perfect fantasy comes instead when Coriolanus nudges on Sejanus shoulder towards an armchair, then he grabs your waist, picking you up and practically throwing you on the bed.

It makes you stare at him a little wide-eyed, his finger working the buttons of his shirt, “I’ll show you what we do,” he says to Sejanus, who’s sitting back in the chair just as wide-eyed as you are. But god, the fucking noticeable tent in his pants makes you squirm, moving to push your nightgown up over you, but Coriolanus swats your hands away, “No keep it on.”

Coriolanus kicks his shoes off and lets his shirt fall to the ground, standing at the foot of the bed and holding his hand out for you. You turn over and crawl to him. You wonder if he thinks you’ll hesitate now that you’re in front of Sejanus, but you want to prove otherwise. Have to. 

Have to see the look on your husband’s face. So without a thought of anything, once you’re close, you let Coriolanus’ hand rest to your head and you nuzzle your face into his groin, nose sliding along the length of his cock that’s visible through the fabric. 

“She’s a whore for it,” Coriolanus mumbles, to himself, to you, to Sejanus, who knows. You almost comment, ‘crude,’ but you’re too busy finding his tip and latching your lips over the fabric so you can hear his breach hitch and his hand press down on your head. 

“You don’t have to call her that,” Sejanus speaks for the first time. His hand is over his lap and his eyes are glued to the scene. 

Coriolanus chuckles, “I don’t. But she likes it. Did you know that?” He pushes his hips up to your face more, then shoves your head away, undoing his belt as he looks over at Sejanus. 

“Well? Did you know that?”

Sejanus swallows, watching you wait patiently for Coriolanus as he drops his belt and pushes his pants down, followed by his boxers. 

“N-No,” Sejanus says, eyes stuck on Coriolanus’ hard, dripping cock in the same way you would look at it, which you are, reaching under your nightgown to take your panties off. Once they’re at your ankle, Coriolanus grabs them and tosses them to Sejanus, “There fuck those.”

You want to laugh so bad. Coriolanus is a fucking lunatic and you love him. God, you love him You love that fucking man, what the fuck.

Coriolanus kneels onto the bed with you, leaning in to kiss you. It’s softer than you would expect it to be, then he trails kisses from your lips to your cheek to your ear, whispering, “don’t speak too much. I can do it. Just enjoy yourself.” You give a slight nod and he nips your ear, turning your body over. 

You take his lead and lean your head down to your plush pillows, your backside raised and ready for him. 

Coriolanus pushes your nightgown up around your hips and rubs his fingers on your ass, massaging the skin as he spares Sejanus a look. “I haven’t touched her,” he starts, glancing between your legs, “but I can see it. She’s soaking. Already a wet fucking mess for…,” Coriolanus purposely trails off, teasing his knuckles against your cunt, and pressing one of them to your hole, kneading his knuckle against it. 

“For me, mostly…but she fucking loves you’re watching, Sej.”

Sejanus swallows, but his mouth is dry. His hand instinctively rubs to his bulge and Coriolanus sees it. Smirks at it. 

He rubs his knuckle against your cunt in slow dragging movements that have your head spinning. Coryo drops his other hand to his cock, giving it a slight tug before lining it up more to you. “Bet she’s been so happy she doesn’t have to hide this,” Coriolanus all but murmurs, taking his knuckle away, but quickly replacing it with the tip of his cock, rubbing it through your lips, getting himself wet with you. 

“Oh, I wish you could feel this right now, Sejanus,” Coriolanus groans, watching you nuzzle your cheek to the pillow in annoyance over how much he’s teasing you. And his words. Of course. 

“Yeah,” Sejanus replies, but then he gets a burst of something because you hear him say, “I know what that feels like. To do that to her.” 

Coriolanus hums in thought to that as he starts to sink himself into you. It’s torture, only feeling the head of his dick inside you, somewhat easing a slight tension, but nearly not enough. You’re almost more surprised he’s holding back so much when he normally can’t, but maybe it has to do with your husband sitting in the armchair nearby. Maybe. 

 “You know some if it,” Coriolanus says, voice huskier as he pushes more of himself into you, “but she’s not getting fucked by you, Plinth.” 

He thrusts the rest of himself into you, your cunt taking him like it’s meant to be there, his hands grasping your waist as you moan out. 

“I don’t know how you can’t fuck her,” he grunts, drawing his hips back and slamming then back into you, a half-smile gracing his lips when you grip to the sheets tighter. 

“I-I do,” Sejanus says, his hand still palming himself. 

“No. You don’t. You make love to your beautiful fucking wife but you don’t do this.” There’s venom to his words, like he’s upset on your behalf, like he wishes your husband fucked you hard and rough, snapped his hips you like Coriolanus is doing now, the sound of his skin hitting yours getting more apparent. 

You moan for Coriolanus, asking for it harder and he really does try not to laugh. But he does. This is so perfect. “Are you hearing her? Poor Mrs. Plinth needs a good fucking and you’ve been keeping her from it?”

You can’t see Sejanus. And Coriolanus knows this too. He knows especially when you try to turn your head to catch a glimpse, but he distracts you with a particularly sharp thrust of his hips, leaning his body down over you. You can feel the sweat of his chest and his ragged breath to your ear as he murmurs, “Baby, he’s touching himself. He’s getting off on it, so don’t worry your pretty little head.”

His words only make you whimper, and Coriolanus’ hand collides to your ass in only one slap before leans back up. “At this point, I’m her sex life. Not even her husband. That’s sick.”

Coriolanus fucks into you like he’s hungry. Like he needs to wreck you as much as he can since it’s front of Sejanus, a Sejanus who has slipping his hand down his pants, a Sejanus who can’t argue against Coriolanus’ words. 

“Sejanus watch, don’t fucking look away,” Coriolanus spits out in a rushed tone, so you can only assume Sejanus did look away. Your moans are tumbling out of you, your body on fire as his cock pounds into you. You can feel him twitch and you know he’s close. 

“Don’t look away,” he pants, “I’m gonna fill your wife’s cunt with my cum, gonna fill it all up, gonna give her my fucking baby,” Coriolanus grunts with each push of his hips. His words must surprise even him because his hips stutter before they regain their purpose and you whine. You whine for his seed, for him to breed you like he should have been meant to. You knew he would never speak those words about Livia and it turned you on to an unimaginable level. 

With the first spurt of his load, you spasm against him, cumming with Coriolanus. A louder whimper leaves you while he grunts, his voice cracking with his last few words, “that’s it, that’s fucking it, you see this, Sejanus? You see this? She comes like this for me. All for me.” 

You grin tiredly at his words, letting your body rest as Coriolanus pulls out of you. When you can look over at Sejanus, his hand shaky and his pants have a wet spot. It almost makes you want ot crawl over to your husband and take care of him again. Maybe this will change him. 

But Coriolanus cups your face in his rough, warm hand and kisses your nose as his other hand cleans between your leg with your blanket. He whispers so only you can hear, “I’ll see you tonight,” then he’s finishing getting changed, saying absolutely nothing to Sejanus, and walking out. 

Sejanus is glued to his seat still, staring over at you. With lust, with disgust, with awe, all of the above. It almost makes you nervous. Almost. 

“You should-”

“I should-”

You both stop when you speak at the same time, then Sejanus stands up, “I should go back into work,” he says and you nod. Your husband tentatively takes a few steps over to you, then leans down and kisses the top of your head, before walking to his dresser to grab new pants and boxers, then he’s gone. 

There’s disappointment welling in your stomach. He could’ve fucked you nonsensically after what Coriolanus did, but Sejanus just kissed your head. 

At least Coriolanus would be here tonight.

[littledeadling]

You probably know by now that I’m quite taken with my DND character, Horatio. In this post I’m going to explain him (with pictures!!) so you can enjoy him too, and follow along with his story if you want!

~~~~

Let’s start with the man himself:

~Horatio Ignatius Heronwillow III~

Horatio is a human paladin knight following the Oath of Glory. Also, he’s a pompous bitch with an ego the size of a small country.

Horatio’s character arc is all about getting humbled over and over again. Maybe he’s not the best. He’s not even second best. Maybe he’s even…pathetic. Despite all his training? His many successful battles? His prestige? What does any of that matter if his Queen doesn’t trust him to be her champion? If the Queen doesn’t even like him?

Horatio is from the nation of Thrane. He introduces himself as “the gilded knight of Fort Light, first at her majesty’s royal table.” He’s an ardent follower of the Queen, even though she’s merely a figurehead—the Church of the Silver Flame holds all the power. He is considered weird for this. His family are all noble elitists, and their support for him is conditional. Even though he’s become such a high-ranking knight, he’s never good enough.

But we can’t truly discuss Horatio until we meet his nemesis/rival/best friend/worst enemy (who he’s totally obsessed with, and who happens to be a centaur). His name is Elethar Sigrún.

Elethar came to the castle when they were both young (for ~unknown reasons~), and they trained to be knights alongside each other. Despite being the only centaur in the kingdom and not of royal birth, Elethar immediately usurped Horatio as the Queen’s most promising young knight, thus beginning a lifelong rivalry.

Does Horatio have feelings for Elethar? Not that he’s aware of. This is because he is stupid. Does Elethar feel anything for Horatio (besides pity and disdain)? Unclear!

~The Dragonshard Derby~

Now that we’ve met our hero, lets turn to the story!

The players are all entrants in The Dragonshard Derby: a mounted cross-continent race hosted by a rich and famous duke. To the winner goes the spoils: a great dragon’s hoard, and glory for their chosen nation. Obviously, Horatio is racing for Thrane. One hundred contestants are participating, riding everything from regular horses to owlbears to dinosaurs (dinosaurs are normal in Eberron 😳).

Horatio’s mount is a golden Akhal-Teke horse named Marvellous Moondance. She’s the light of his life. Despite his competitive nature, he would never push her past her limits. He puts her safety above all else.

Much to his chagrin, Elethar is also running in the race. Apparently the Queen had a special, secret mission for him, which she didn’t tell Horatio about. He persuades Elethar to confide: there’s an artefact rumoured to be among the dragon’s hoard that the Queen desires. Neither of them are sure what it is. Horatio promises that if he encounters it, he will give it to Elethar.

~The World of Eberron~

The campaign is set in a world called Eberron. The road is dangerous! We’ll be journeying though many different terrains, including the Mournland, a desolate wasteland which was once a great nation. Less than five years ago, during the war, a white fog filled the nation of Cyre from border to border and killed everyone inside. The cause of this was unknown, but it led to a tenuous end to the fighting. Horatio and Elethar were both on the front lines when it happened. They witnessed people across the border dying in agony. Horatio still has nightmares.

The Dragonshard Derby is the first time since then that the other nations have come together to put the past behind them in friendly sport. Evaluators will be watching from airships to make sure there's no foul play, though their vision is limited whenever racers are passing through the woods. Any teleportation is strictly prohibited.

~The Race So Far~

Each leg of the race begins with a sprint. In the first sprint, Horatio finished first in his section, but 11th overall. Elethar placed actually first, and gave Horatio polite congratulations once the scores had been posted. Horatio was pissed. This was supposed to be his chance to prove himself to the Queen! Why did Elethar have to be here and show him up? He ruins everything! And he’s so effortless about it, too. He never loses his composure, ever. Horatio wishes he could be like that.

During the first leg (a multi-day ride through the forest and plains), two riders were murdered under mysterious circumstances. Both had placed within the top ten. Their belongings had been trashed, searched through. As frustrated as Horatio was with Elethar’s presence, he’s now more just worried for his well-being. After all, Elethar is racing alone.

Then, when Horatio’s party was still a day’s ride away from the second sprint, something strange happened.

While fighting off a band of raiders, the world suddenly froze for Horatio. A strange light appeared in the sky, drawing him towards it. The moment he touched it, he felt something write itself into the skin of his arm. A mysterious lantern appeared in his bag, glowing with ethereal purple light. It would later become clear that the lantern will always appear back in Horatio’s bag, no matter where he leaves it. And, he discovered, he now has access to new magics that he was previously incapable of. This was all VERY ALARMING.

Anyway, back to Horatio’s arm. Something important in Eberron is the concept of dragonmarks. There are twelve great Dragonmarked Houses (basically powerful mob families) which each share a unique dragonmark- a sigil that appears somewhere on the body at puberty and grants powerful magic. There are also aberrant dragonmarks, which is when a combination of two other sigils appears on someone not from a Dragonmarked House (usually when there have been mixed relations between Houses). There’s a lot of political baggage attached. And Horatio suddenly has one, at the ripe age of 35. To make matters worse, it’s not a normal dragonmark OR a known aberrant, but something entirely new.

He chose not to tell his party anything about this.

Then, it was time for the sprint to the next checkpoint. Horatio started strong, but again, Elethar swept in and beat him right at the finish line. He congratulated Horatio on the race. Embarrassing him further, Elethar presented Horatio with this letter he had just received from the queen:

Sir Elethar Sigrún, First Knight to Queen Diani ir’Wynarn My earnest congratulations on placing first on the primary leg of this great race. I would expect nothing less of my finest knight. Of course, you are missed at the castle, but I am honoured by the diligence with which you have chosen to pursue the purpose I have set out for you. I am sure that you will earn the respect of the kingdom, should you succeed, and I am pleased to hear of your success so far. It will be essential that you continue to maintain this position, else my favour lies elsewhere. Loyal Elethar, I wish you great fortune, and may the blessing of the Silver Flame be upon you. Her Majesty, Queen Diani ir’Wynarn PS. Please tell Sir Heronwillow I am being informed of his standing in the race as well.

…Crushing.

He’d been considering telling Elethar of his troubles, but after that he was too upset to broach the subject.

Now that they’ve made it to the checkpoint, there are official tents with beds for everyone (with sleeping arrangements decided by race standing), a small market, and a mess hall with dinner provided.

During the meal, a friendly fellow racer named Ash attempted to flirt with one of Horatio’s party members, offering him a strange glowing flower he’d found nearby. Horatio immediately recognized it as being similar to his lantern. When his teammate turned down the flower, Horatio asked if he could have it. Ash took this the wrong way. He let Horatio know he was really, super not his type, and would not be giving him the flower. Double ouch.

That night (in the dead of it), a pack of wild raptors invaded the tents where the racers were sleeping. The party managed to kill them before they hurt anyone, but Horatio detected that the animals were all under an enchantment. Their real purpose had been to attempt to steal the flower and take it... somewhere. To someone. Was this what the killers from the first leg had been seeking? None of it bodes very well for Horatio!

The next evening, Horatio dragged Elethar to the edge of the camp where they could not be overheard, and nervously confided in him. The dragonmark, the lantern—everything. He was a bundle of nerves, but… It went well! Elethar was very alarmed, and told Horatio not to let ANYONE else find out. Not even the Queen. Especially not the Queen. Horatio was equal parts thrilled by Elethar’s willingness to share a secret with him, and terrified to keep anything hidden from the woman who basically controls his life. I drew a comic about this conversation. It was too good of a scene not to draw. 🫣)

Well, that’s where we left off last session! Thanks so much for reading, and meeting my guy! I love him and I hope you like him too! 💖

Stay tuned for a little intro post about the rest of the party! :•) I’ll link that here as well!

To be continued! (Probably in a month or so)

⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

[fernsnailz]

hello gamers! my shop will briefly reopen on FEBRUARY 11th @1:00pm EST for the SNAILZ SHOP LIGHTNING ROUND‼️ pre-orders for the Sonic + Shadow Photo Standee will be open and i’ll have a few other items back in stock! more info + other updates:

📅 SCHEDULE: shop will open Feb 11th @1:00pm EST and close Feb 18th @11:59pm EST. 🦔 STANDEE PRE-ORDERS: Sonic + Shadow Photo Standee will be open for pre-orders! these will likely ship in March. 📚 OTHER ITEMS BACK IN STOCK: the Dance in Fire Zine and Sonic Charms are back in stock - but in VERY LIMITED numbers! there will also be some B-Grade zines available at a steep discount. these items will return again later this year! 💸 PRICE INCREASES: US/Puerto Rico and Canadian shipping has been raised by a dollar, and most sticker prices have been increased to $4. sorry folks, shipping is expensive :( 💀 SORRY GANG I'M STILL ONLY SHIPPING TO THE US + PUERTO RICO + CANADA: yeah. sorry again, expanding international shipping options just isn't something i can do right now.

lastly, i will be tabling at Triad Anime Winston-Salem (NC) in late March! i’ll have most of my stuff + standees available there (and probably some new things 👀), and i plan to re-open my online shop in April to sell con leftovers :] as always, thank you all for your support‼️

[snailzshop.bigcartel.com]

[theresascove]

feeling left out ₊ ⊹

lynn loud x fem!reader

after introducing Lynn to your friends to help her out after she disclosed her rough time making friends, you start to feel left out when most all of her time is spent with them now

tw: I put Lynn in what grade she would be irl (Annaka is 16, so 11th grade), established relationship, hurt/comfort, light angst with happy ending, slight argument

wc ✎ 1.2k

You’ve known Lynn for as long as you really can remember. Living just down the road, it really was hard to ignore the Loud family. It’s in the name, they were loud. Also not to mention you went to the same school as them, settling beside them on the bus. You shared the same high school with the older siblings—Lynn, Luan, Luna, Leni, and Lori. Specially you shared the same grade as Lynn and Leni, 11th grade.

So by all means, you would consider yourself a friend to Lynn and to the Loud family. You visited often, trailing about with Lynn until the Loud family got to know you better—until they were better familiar either you. It got to the point they were asking question as to why you weren’t at their house, seeing as since you’ve started dating Lynn you’re around often. Maybe a little too often.

You and Lynn hung out a lot, a bit too much. I mean it made sense to, but you never had a minute away from her almost—your friends texts notifications have been appearing on your phone, asking when you’ll be free. And truth be told you miss them.

So that sparked a conversation, one where Lynn’s hands stopped tossing around her soccer ball and her vision casted off a little. She told you about how she struggles to find friends, meaning ultimately you , her teammates, and her family is all she really has.

And that’s where it started. You invited her to come hangout with your friends. The plans were—going to stop by a food place and eat outside to catch up. The invitation sparked a sense and look of joy on Lynn and it too sparked one in you to see her look excited again.

“Are you sure they don’t mind?”

“No,” you reach over to her, past the car center council, “you know these people, this will just give you the chance to know them more. They already love you, I talk about you all the time.”

She mumbles an okay, parking the car and following you towards the outside park table where the others resided. You introduced her and almost instantly it hit off. You smile from where you sit, watching as she talks about her passions with the others. Lynn hugged you tight that night, spilling strong thank yous for letting her join. She had even texted you again, a small thank you at the bottom of her text.

When you clicked your phone light off just before you fell asleep, you had no worries of the effects this new friendship would have.

Overtime, the moments you two spent together and got so used to was cut short. Instead Lynn’s time was spent with your three friends.

“Want to go play tennis?”

“I wish, we’re going to the pool today—“

You would try again.

“There’s this diner down the street if you want to try it—“

“I’m going there tonight already.”

Truth be told you felt left out, ignored, and honestly—discarded. She was rushing around, a smile on her face as she ran to meet the friends you introduced to her. She was having fun it seemed, didn’t seem to care or notice that her time with you was minimal.

It hurt. You spent nights in your room, lights turned off leaving the area dark save for the glow on your phone. Doom scrolling and listening to music was now your new past time. There wasn’t much else to do in your room, the place you kept yourself to since you had nobody else to hangout with.

Sure, one could say you’re dramatic. You could go with your girlfriend and your friends, but you’re excluded the entire time. So now you settle to hangout alone during the hours you used to spend with Lynn.

Almost came to the point you started ignoring her, the initial hurt turning into anger. How could she have not noticed your absence?

A call rings out in your room, interrupting the music that was once playing out of your phone. You sigh, reaching behind you and onto your bed to look at the Lock Screen. Lynn’s contact showed, first time in a few weeks. You were so used to it before and now it makes your heart race.

“Lynn?”

“Hey, was just wondering if you’d like to come with us to this movie tonight, it’s that one I remember you’ve been talking about and—“

You take a look to your desk, heart tightening when you notice the homework you have left before tomorrow.

“I’m going to pass, I have a lot of homework,” you fiddle with your nail for a second, “I haven’t seen you in a minute. You could come over? Do homework as well?”

“Well babe, issue is we got the tickets already… but Sean pulled out so we were trying to find someone to fill the space.”

Oh.

That last phrase had you biting your cheek, “nevermind, have fun with your friends.”

You hang up after and the silence in your room is defeating. You’ve never talked to her that way, and you’ve certainly never hung up on her like that before. You’re not alone, her new behavior is unsettling too. Oh the other end of the phone, Lynn’s pulling her phone down from her ear—eyebrows furrowed at the middle at the sight of her Lock Screen.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna go see her, here—“ she says, passing the tickets off to them, “enjoy the movie.”

She almost runs back, making her way quickly over to your house—phone held tight in her hand. Your mother opens the door, smiling at her.

“Oh Lynn, what a surprise. She’s upstairs if you—“

She’s already taking the stars, saying her pleasantries as she does so. The door to the left of the staircase was yours, little pictures hung on the wall beside it almost hinting at it too. She knocks, waiting quite impatiently as she rocks her foot.

“Hey,” she’s talking like she’s lost all breath when you open the door, voice airy and quiet, “can we talk?”

It’s strange. The way you shrug and open the door, not saying a word or moving to hug her. You move right back to your desk, a shaky hand trying to write out the math equations as if she wasn’t currently staring holes into the side of your face. She too looks awkward, mind whirring on what to say while she stands there.

“I’m sorry,” she sighs and you turn to look at her, “I got excited to have friends and I kept choosing to spend time with them instead of you. I’m also sorry for not noticing until now, I thought I was better than this.”

You reach your arms out silently and she’s quick to cross your room and melt into the embrace. You press a kiss to her shoulder, “I missed you.”

“You have me now. What’re you working on?”

“Math, wanna help? I can’t get these even thought you’ve told me how to solve them”

“Course.”

[st4rfckerz]

October 11th - Intercrural Sex

His Favorite Thing (Sam Monroe)

word count: 0.4k

warning: mdni 18+, thigh fucking, dubcon

The room was filled with the soft hum of the AC, the cool air spreading around you. Your back was pressed firmly against Sam's front, your soft body nestled perfectly against his hard chest. His arm remained wrapped around your waist, as if to hold you close, to keep you from slipping away. Despite the comfortable position, sleep eluded Sam. His heart raced, his mind filled with thoughts of you, specifically his most favorite part of you. Your thighs.

Sam couldn't help but remember the new shorts you wore all day. They clung to your body in all the right places. The sight of you in them had driven him crazy, his cock throbbing in his pants with each step you took.

His fingers trailed up your side, stopping just above your waistband, his thumb teasing the edge of your shorts.

Sam's uncontrollable need grew more by the minute. He couldn't take it anymore. His hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, freeing his throbbing cock. It sprang to life, eager for the warmth it craved.

Carefully, he lifted your leg, your shorts sliding up your thigh just enough to reveal your smooth skin. He positioned himself between your thighs, his cock nestled against the soft skin.

You stirred slightly, your eyes fluttering open as you murmured quietly. “Too tired, Sam,” your words were slurred, your body heavy with sleep.

Sam shushed you softly, his lips brushing against your ear. “It's okay, baby, jus’ need to feel you,” He began to slide his cock between your thighs, the heat and friction driving him wild. He closed his eyes, his hips moving in a steady rhythm, his breath hitching with each thrust.

Lost in the moment, Sam began to ramble to himself, his voice low and strained. “Knew you’d let me do this, fuck, lettin’ me use you.” His thrusts grew more desperate, his grip on your leg tightening. The pleasure built, spiraling out of control, and then, with a final, shuddering thrust, Sam came, his hot cum spilling onto your leg.

He collapsed against your back, panting, his cock still pressed against your thigh. “Shit.” he whispered, the aftershocks of his orgasm rippling through his body.

Your voice, still heavy with sleep, pulled Sam back to reality. “You okay now?” you mumbled with a small smile, your body shifting slightly beside him. Sam nodded, his heart still racing, his body tingling with the aftermath of his release.

“Yeah, I'm good,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Thank you baby.” He carefully extracted himself from between your thighs, pulling up his boxers and adjusting his clothes. He reaches for the small box of tissues onto of the bedside table to wipe away the remaining cum on your leg. With a contented sigh, Sam snuggled back into bed beside you, his arm draping over your waist once more as if nothing happened.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Poly!plastics x Drummer!Reader

So Readers is a drummer part of a small band who all go to different schools than the rest of her band, Reader usually keeps to herself but somehow got involved with the plastics, and now she's dating them!? (W rizz fr….😭) she low-key acts/looks like Trent from Daria, piercings, tats, mostly likely smokes, chills 24/7, scary ass looking mf (according to the student body) but the plastics just find her adorable in all honesty

Save the Moment

|| poly!plastics x drummer!fem!reader

|| Warnings; people dont interact with reader (besides the plastics of course), reader & Regina share a cigarette, underage smoking

|| Summary; when reader joins plastics for lunch, Regina discovers her secret tiktok account.

Requests closed!

Started; November 11th

Finished; November 11th

~~~

How it happened, you weren't sure. The plastics just kind of approached you one day and went "you're ours now" and you've been theirs since. Not that you had any problem with that. Three hot girlfriends? You'd be crazy to be upset about it. Considering most people find you intimidating, it honestly surprised you when it first happened. But then again, the plastics hardly feared anyone. They're the plastics, after all.

So now you found yourself sitting with them during lunch. As opposed to on your own. It wasn't like you didn't have any friends before them. You actually had an entire band. But all your band mates went to different schools. It's actually impressive you all managed to find each other to begin with.

You were the drummer and you often did little things that made it pretty obvious. Like at the moment, you were tapping your fork and knife against the table to a beat of a song in your head. Eyes closed and just enjoying the vibe; completely tuned out to everything else around you. Only stopping when you felt a hand on your shoulder, opening your eyes to see Gretchen looking at you.

"That's actually like so impressive. Can you make a beat with anything?" Gretchen asked, eyeing you with curiosity and love in her eyes. Her hand resting under her chin, elbow against the table.

"Uh... yeah. Just need something that I can hit with." You shrugged, it seemed pretty normal to you. Nothing overly impressive. Unlike what Gretchen seemed to think. Even Karen had gotten distracted by your little beat, her full attention on you and your hands. As for Regina, she was on her phone. Not really interested.

Though the blonde's eyes widened when she came across a video of you on tiktok. With your band and over a million views. You didn't say anything about being tiktok viral. "Are you kidding?" Regina suddenly looked up at you, eyes fixed on yours. You turned from Gretchen to look at her, confusion quickly taking over your expression.

"Huh?"

"Were you ever gonna mention being tiktok famous?" Regina showed her phone to you, raising an eyebrow in a kind of 'well?' gesture. You shrugged again.

"Didn't really think about it much." It's true, you kind of just post occasional videos and then close the app. You knew of your success on there, but didn't interact much with it. With school, it could only ever be a hobby right now anyways. You weren't about to give yourself false hope on a career. Regina scoffed at your response and checked out your profile. Finding more than just the one viral video there.

She's surprised more people didn't talk to you with the influencer status you had. Then again, your piercings, tattoos and unapproachable vibe made it pretty hard for people to talk to you. Not that you were scary by any means, you were actually pretty damn chill. But the student body liked to paint their own images of people and judge books by their covers.

You didn't really mind, being pretty used to the lone wolf lifestyle. Until your girlfriends came along and changed up that plan.

The rest of the day was pretty boring, classes being their usual snooze fest. You waited outside in a mostly secluded spot, cigarette in hand between your fingers. Taking your light to it before putting it to your lips. One puff. Two. Just what you needed after a school day. The plastics knew your spot, so it didn't take them long to find you up against the wall. Smoking your cigarette with half lidded eyes. You grinned when you saw them.

"Give." Regina held a hand out to you, raising an eyebrow expectantly. Vapes were more her style, but she didn't mind the occasional smoke sesh with you. You smirked and handed it to her, placing it between her fingers for her before blowing the smoke in her face. She huffed and rolled her eyes, but took a puff and sighed. Smoke falling from her lips. Regina couldn't agree more with you, a smoke is perfect after a long school day.

Gretchen and Karen shared a nervous look, clearly both being worried about being caught. The longer you and Regina took, the higher the chances of it were. Gretchen spoke up," c'mon, let's go to the jeep before someone sees."

"Ugh, fine." Regina grumbled, handing the smoke back to you. You put it out against the school wall. Then held onto it as you all walked away to Regina's jeep. When you passed a public trash can, you tossed it in there.

You were a lot of things, but a litterer wasn't one. Karen couldn't help but smile when she noticed. She thought it was kind of cute, how you took the time to take care of things that most people wouldn't even think twice about. She liked that about you. And it earned you a kiss on the cheek from her.

Your arm wrapped around Karen's waist, pulling her in close to your side almost protectively. She giggled at the gesture and smiled more. Yeah, she loved you. Gretchen looked back at the two of you and smiled softly at the sight. The way your head rested against Karen's as you guys walked together.. it was adorable. Gretchen just had to take a picture to save the moment.