#the only way is you want to invest every hour of your life into being a parent

[rip-a-bear-without-gender]

And mentally and emotionally stable

[lxnarphase]

BITCH, YOU KNOW I'M SEXY ᯓ★

━━ ❝ I'M NOT YOUR MOMMY, N★GGA! FIND A NEW HOBBY, N★GGA! ❞ wc. 5.4k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : being toji's roommate, you finally snap after another night of not being able to sleep because of his damn late-night hookups. your house, your rules.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x f. toji, frenemies to lovers, smut, face-sitting + pussy eating, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, playful arguing, hair pulling, size kink, begging, riding, unprotected sex (do not do this in real life omfg), dom-ish reader, sub-ish toji, lots of pet names, toji being an asshole, toji gets called a 'good boy' a few times

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's notes : toji toji toji, what am i going to do with you...anyways, this was super fun and i love these two so much and i need them to go out on a date properly at some point ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎

you love sleep. absolutely love and cherish it, even.

every night, you follow the routine you set for yourself without fail: hot shower, slipping into some comfy PJs, in-depth skincare, brushing your teeth, and then pulling your bonnet on.

nothing is better than slipping into bed, soft sheets feeling sooo good on your skin. yes, you absolutely love sleep.

except it seems that your roommate has no respect for your need for rest, considering how many times you've had to hear the high-pitched whining of women paired with the annoying thud of the headboard against the wall.

he better not damage the wall either, because he will be the one paying for it.

you both were...sort of friends, sure, but ever since you both graduated college, toji has been doing his best to get on your nerves. constantly picking on you, teasing you, or doing stupid shit that annoys the fuck out of you. especially whenever he leaves the fucking toilet seat up in the middle of the night.

and every time he hears you squeal late at night in the bathroom before shouting his name, he can't help but laugh.

eventually, it went from him just doing things to inconvenience or mess with you to this. and you were tired.

these nightly...activities of his need to be addressed because you are not letting a man of all things be the reason you can't sleep soundly at night. this is your apartment, after all!

it's a friday night and you just know you need to talk to him before you have to hear some woman fighting for her life of toji does...whatever he does that has all these women coming in and out of your apartment like it's a damn brothel...okay, well, it was the same two women, but still!

so that's how you find yourself, pounding on his door, sleepy, tired, and irritated in your hello kitty pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, ready to get in bed and actually sleep.

"fushiguro, open this damn door," you command, fluffy slipper tapping on the floor as you wait for him to open his door. after a minute, you hear a groan and the shuffling of sheets before the door swings open.

toji stands in the doorway, only in a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips with an eyebrow raised as he looks down at you. you don't care how hot he looks, you want nothing more than to wipe that look off his face, hating how smug he looks.

"whaddya want? 's she here already? told 'er not to come for another 2 hours," he mumbles, scratching at the scar on his lip. you're silent for a moment, processing what he just said. "who......no. nononono. absolutely not, tell whoever you are expecting she is not coming into my apartment."

crossing your arms, you fix him with a tough look. sure, you know you aren't the scariest thing, especially in hello kitty pants and puffy slippers, but it doesn't matter! he is going to respect your wishes or...or else!

"aww, what's wrong, doll? can't sleep," he teases, voice low and sinfully smooth as smirk finds its way onto his face. "guess ya should've invested in those headphone y'keep talkin' about so much. can't help that 'm just that good that the girlies can't keep their mouths shut."

having you in front of his bedroom door like this...it's so fucking adorable to him, you were just so cute and didn't have a single clue, did you? complaining that he and his little playthings were too loud and keeping you up was not what he expected. but, toji won't lie, he's genuinely surprised it took you so long to finally say something.

it seems his little comment struck a cord, his smirk getting bigger when your eyes get just a bit wider in disbelief. man, you were so fucking cute like this, all angry and huffy.

"okay, first of all, those headphones are NOT comfy to sleep with at night. and i'm not dropping almost $400 dollars on something so that i can accommodate for you," you argue, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his stupidly big chest.

no, seriously, why were his pecs almost bigger than your tits?

"can you please just let me sleep for one night, or are you that sex deprived you can't go a single night without getting your dick wet?"

whatever this new side of you was, he liked it.

"aww, sounds like little princess s' mad no one's fuckin' her right. ya not gettin' fucked good, pipsqueak? haven't seen yer boy-toy around lately anyways.

"god, that's—that's none of your fucking business, fushiguro, shut up!"

"make me."

you blink.

a moment passes...and suddenly, your eyes are sharp.

ah...he might've fucked up with those two simple words.

"...you know what? i will, you annoying fuck."

catching toji off guard, you shove him back, taking advantage of him stumbling to walk inside his room as you slam the door shut behind you. a light chuckle escapes him, eyebrows raises. "so, the little kitten does have claws," he says with a grin.

his little roommate seems to have grown a pair of balls. what is she gonna do? hit him with pillows, curse him out, kick him out? pffft, if you kicked him out he would know you needed sleep, you both have been friends for too long...right?

as toji gets slightly worried he might've genuinely crossed a line (a bit too late to realize that, he realizes), you push him onto his bed, standing between his legs.

oh.

oh, he...he likes you from his angle, looking down at him with a little bit of a pout on those pretty full lips of yours as you try soooo hard to look angry and scary. but how can he be scared when his roommate, the one he's been fucking his hand for, looks so fucking cute?

curly hair a bit frizzy and messy (he's surprised you don't have your bonnet on yet), smelling like cocoa butter and that strawberry shortcake body spray that haunts him at night. and now you're in his fucking room. he'd never be able to escape it now.

fuck, every time you came close to him, he just suddenly couldn't process anything except you...he needed to get a grip.

propping himself up on his elbows, toji locks eyes with you, playing off his surprise. "what's gotten into ya, roomie? so aggressive, might have t' call shiu to come get you," he attempts to playfully poke. the tension in the room grows when you start to massage your temples, trying to calm down.

in.

out.

in.

out.

in-

"well, if lack of sleep is gettin' you all huffed up like this, i gotta couple o' ways t' tire ya out if y'need."

"oh my god, y'talk too fucking much," you grumble.

toji opens his mouth, ready to make another smart comment but he's shocked into silence when you tug your pajama pants off. there's no fucking way this is real. toji knows he has to be dreaming and knowing he'd be waking up with a wet spot in his pants if he didn't wake up soon.

and...are you wearing hello kitty boxer briefs too? god, you're such a fucking dork, it's cute and it's only making him harder in his pants.

but all of that is forgotten when you hook your fingers in the waistband of those stupid looking boxers and drag them down those pretty legs and toji gets a glimpse of your cute, pudgy tummy and...and....

fuck.

he doesn't even get a chance to think, he's so fucking hard. you're fucking half naked in his room right now and he can't tear his eyes away from how soft you look, that little patch of hair (is it shaped like a fucking heart? jesus fucking christ, you were serious about making yourself feel pretty everywhere), god, he's so fucked.

"shit. someone's eager. just couldn' wait to-"

"i'm so sick of you," you cut off, pushing him down onto the bed, crawling up his chest. you give him a look, one that he instantly understands and he smirks, giving you a nod before you continue moving until your hips hover over his face.

the smirk melts off his face when he realizes how real this is. your bare pussy is literally mere inches away from his mouth, so close he can practically taste you.

he's not gonna make it out of this alive, is he?

when you see him about to open his mouth to make another stupid comment, you move, pressing your hips down onto his face, shutting him up. "you wanna use your mouth so much, toj? i'll give you somethin' to use it on."

toji's response is just a muffled groan, his eyes fluttering a little. his hands move up to grip your thighs to steady you and also keep you on his face. he hasn't even tasted you, but shit, you smell so good.

wasting no more time, his tongue hungrily darts out, desperate to taste you. the moment he licks over your folds, he's sighing, melting into the bed. you're so soft, so sweet and he hasn't even gotten a taste from the main source. pulling you down onto his face a bit harder, toji finally swipes through your cunt and he's addicted.

"mmh, fuck," he grunts, burying his face as deep as possible. what the actual fuck are you made of, he thinks to himself. you taste so sweet, he's getting so dizzy as he starts to messily lap up all the slick dripping from your pussy. he barely pulls away from you to breathe, taking just a second to part, his hot breath fanning against the wet mess between your legs before he dives right back in, his low groans resonating against your core so nicely.

toji slurps loudly at your cunt, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips up, the friction of his sweats on his cock a sweet relief. he's so sure this is heaven, thanking whatever god there is for making you snap to this point but then you start talking.

you sigh, hips gently rocking against toji's face as your eyes open to look down your body at him. "mmn, 's better," you purr to yourself, little sweet noises of pleasure escaping you as one of your hands runs through his hair, giving him an encouraging little tug.

"should i just give you my pussy every night so you let me sleep, toj," you coo at him, a smug smile on your face. he didn't even notice his eyes slipped shut, but he opens them, flickering up to meet your lidded gaze and see the pride swirling around your eyes.

has his roommate always been like this? toji doesn't remember you being so fucking sexy like this. sure, you've always been attractive, and he's definitely had a thing for you for a while. but never in his life did he think his sweetheart of a friend would be smushing his face into her soft cunt.

his response is a little nod and an increase in his tongue's movements against your sloppy pussy. his lips move to suck right at your puffy clit, and he swears nearly cums when you gasp his name and whine, pulling him even deeper by his hair.

his train of thought is completely destroyed, he can't think of anything but you, can't feel anything but you, can't see, can't smell, can't taste anything but you.

he'd kill a man if it meant being able to taste you like this every fucking day.

"ohh, tojibaby, y'look s' pretty eating my pussy...poor thing, jus' needed something to shut you up for a bit."

scratch that, he'd kill SEVERAL men if it meant hearing you sing praises like that while you grind against his mouth, practically suffocating him with your thighs.

it's addicting, the way slick is gushing out of you each time he kisses your clit before sucking on it, coating his mouth. toji knows he looks a wreck, but he doesn't care, not when he's got you on him like this.

"d'you wanna make me cum, toj?" you ask it so teasingly, tugging his hair again and making him moan. "you're makin' out with my pussy...such a good boy for me."

those two words are his undoing, a visible shift in his energy. his eyes are sharp, and he almost looks angry as he grips your thighs even harder. "yes, fuck, yeah, mama, i wanna make you cum all over my face," he growls, tongue unrelenting when it slips back inside of your cunt, a nasty wet noise filling the air as you keen. he's fucking you with his tongue so messily, like he'll die if he stops tasting you.

good boy. you called him a good boy.

the compliment made something snap in him, the need to devour you whole the only thing on his mind. he's not just a good boy, no, he's your good boy, and the thought of being yours makes a thick bead of precum to drip out of his cock and stain his sweatpants.

he's brought back when you tug his head back to look at you, that thick tongue of his slipping out of you.

"i don't want you bringing anymore fucking women in my house, fushiguro," you warn, glaring down at him. you're serious. if you see another girl come in here at 11pm, you might actually kill this man in his sleep and not in a way he'd like

"i'm so tired of hearing their annoying moans. if you need a pussy to put your stupid dick in, just ask me, you fuckin' idiot." shit, you usually never talk like this, but toji likes this side of you. the usually sweet and kind roommate he was so used to was no where to be seen, replaced with this commanding and no-nonsense woman who knew what she wanted.

he can't even deny, this side of you is such a massive turn on.

"promise you're gonna let me fuckin' sleep n' i'll cum on your pretty mouth, fushiguro. otherwise, i'm getting up and i'll call shiu and see if he wants a taste."

oh, fuck no. no way in hell is toji letting that smug bastard see you like this, best friend or not.

he desperately nods, just wanting you to let go of his hair so he can dive back into your sweet pussy, licking his lips to taste you again.

"promise, mama, no more bringing other women, jus' you, don't need nobody else but you, y'got my word."

"that's my good boy."

once you let go of his hair, toji dives right back to the task at hand like man possessed. his lips press against your clit, kissing it with little wet smacks before sucking it into his mouth. his tongue doesn't give you a break, flicking over it rapidly. your moans, god, your moans are getting so loud and so pretty, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you get closer and closer.

"c'mon, doll, please," he begs, a whininess in his voice as he massages your thick thighs, encouraging you to ride his face until you cream all over it. "give it t' me, give me what i wan', cum all over my face, baby girl."

feeling how you start to move your hips, a sweet little 't-toji, 'm gonna cum' falling from your lips, his hands grasp your ass as he seals his mouth over your cunt, sucking and licking desperately.

he needs it.

he needs you.

needs you so fucking bad.

feeling him mutter those words against your cunt makes you gasp and choke out his name, thighs squeezing around his head. "oh, fuck, toji, 'm cummin, baby!" your hands are both in his hair as you desperately hump against his mouth, body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

he doesn't stop, he keeps his mouth on you to make sure not a drop of your sweet cum goes to waste. he can feel it spilling out of his mouth, down his chin and neck. it's so messy, just how he likes it.

he watches you, how could he even think to take his eyes off you? you're so pretty, do you even realize how your hair got puffier and messier from your sweating, how a few of those tiny curls got stuck to your skin?

"g-god, fuck, toj, hoohmygod, your mouth 's so good, nngh!"

shit, you're pretty, so fucking pretty, what the fuck? god, you even cum pretty, toji's so fucked. why didn't he get you on his face like this sooner?

feeling your tremors start to subside, toji slows his tongue, switching to little licks and then to soft kisses against your clit, keeping you grounded as you come down from your high. the fact he didn't paint the inside of his sweatpants white is a miracle, but he knows the front is wet and stained.

when he feels you relax, toji guides you off his face and down to sit on his chest. he can't help the twinkle in his eye, grinning at you proudly. the bottom half of his face is a mess, covered in his spit and your slick. you like this look on him.

"has anyone ever told you that you've got t'most addicting pussy ever?"

you huff a laugh, urging him to move up further on the bed until his back rests against the pillows. he was so annoying, and you hated how attractive it made him. “you’re too awake for my liking," you sarcastically huff, giving him a sweet little pout that makes him feel a bit more things than he probably should.

tugging his sweatpants down, you let out a little noise of surprise.

ah.

it all makes sense now. no wonder those girls sounded like they were dying.

"toji, what the actual hell is wrong with you?!"

"don't get mad at me, ma, i didn't magically make my dick this size! i just got lucky!"

"lucky?! girl, this is a curse, how the fuck did those girls fit this thing in them?!"

"they didn't."

that makes you pause. they couldn't get him all the way inside? glancing down at his cock, heavy in your hand, as he helps to get his pants completely off, you're not surprised. but you could take it, right?

...guess you need to find out.

shifting your hips, you move to swipe his cock through your slick pussy, a smug look on your face when he sharply inhales. "i'm gettin' my revenge, pretty boy, for all the sleep you made me lose. 's late, anyways, yeah? don't we need to sleep soon?"

the head of his cock catches onto your entrance, causing you both to sigh in pleasure. this would be a stretch, but you're determined by pure spite from toji and those women keeping you up at night.

while you're teasing him, toji is a breath away from losing his mind. the sight of you taking charge, hair completely fluffy now from the humidity in the room, has his cock pulsing in your soft hand. he's so sure that you're not gonna be able to take it all in. shit, he's wondering if he should stop you, tell you he's gotta prep you first or else it's gonna hurt, but you use your free hand to grab his face, making him look at you as an evil grin breaks out on your face.

"i'm gonna put you t' sleep with my pussy. uhm, something something, call that pussy nyquil," you giggle, slipping the tip of his cock inside of your wet, tight little cunt.

melting, that's the best way toji can describe the feeling of behind inside you, even if it's just the tip. "jesus," he hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips. you're so hot inside, your tight walls are so snug around him. there's no way this tight cunt of yours is gonna be able to fit him in, there's not fucking way.

despite that, he finds himself guiding you down onto him, trying his hardest not to buck up into you. but the sensation of your soft, gummy walls squeezing him so perfectly is making it so challenging to stay still.

"fuck, mama...shit," he groans, watching as he is sucked into your warm pussy. once you get halfway, he expects you to stop, and that's usually where they all do. he was fine with that, more than fine, because he's never been inside someone so fucking tight.

but then, you raise your hips until just the tip is inside, and with a devious little giggle, you slam your hips down, gasping when you get him in all the way. damn, you realize it was a stupid idea, the stretch making you feel almost sick, but the reaction you get out of toji is worth it.

his head falls back against the headboard, and he whimpers, eyes rolling back into his skull, his lip pulled between his teeth as he tries to relearn how to think.

“i'm gonna make you cum and ‘m gonna fuck you stupid for not letting me sleep, fushiguro.” giving yourself a bit to get used to his size, you slowly started moving, seeing what angle worked best for you.

meg the stallion, i'm gonna make you proud of me, you think with a little smirk before you steady yourself with your hands on his chest and start to bounce your hips, your cute little threat only making his cock throb inside you.

"'m gonna make you regret bein' an asshole to your pretty roommate, pretty boy."

it doesn't take long for it to get messy, for it to get so fucking sloppy and noisy. each time you bring your hips down, the room is filled with a wet smack. you've really made a mess out of him, your sticky wet coating his fat cock and his lap, thick strands of it connecting you to him with each raise of your hips before you bring them right back down.

toji can't breathe, finally tilting his head back up as his eyes are glued to where his cock slips in and out of you. you're taking him, taking all of him into your sticky cunt and, shit, he thinks he might die like this.

"fuck, fuck, mama, c'mon, don' do this t' me, relax, please, fuckin' strangling my cock, oh my god—"

he's whining, it's so cute. who knew you could get toji fushiguro, mr. tough guy, to crumble under you like this so easily? it's so wet and gushy, the sound of your thick body smacking back down on his only making his insides twist in pleasure. he can feel how fucking wet you are, dripping down his cock, down his balls, it's so unfair.

"tojiii, talk t' me," you coo at him, your sweet voice bringing him back. "don't tell me my pussy's making you dumb already, jus' started."

you did, you're literally fucking him dumb, and he doesn't know what to do or what to say, but hearing you say his name like that in-between moans as you bounce your hips up and down his throbbing shaft has his babbling in an instant.

"god, this cunt 's perfect, baby, s' fucking perfect."

“yeah? y’like my pussy, toj? like my pretty cunt creaming on you?” you roll your hips, a pretty moan leaving you when his tip nudges against that soft spot perfectly. “f-fuck, you really are big...poor thing, no one could get it in all the way? am, mh, am i the first t’ take this fat cock t’ the hilt, tojibaby?”

you lean forward, hands moving from his chest to around his neck as you roll your hips, swiveling them in ways that have him gushing precum all over the insides of your cunt. the squelches your cunt makes with each roll is so fucking sinful and so nasty.

"y-yeah, mama, she feels s' good around me, all tight and warm, milking my cock like it's made just for you."

god, you smell so good...he can still smell your perfume and the sweet blueberry scent of your leave-in. you smell so sweet and taste so sweet too, he's so fucking lucky to have you fucking him like this. toji's hands move from your hips to your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his dick, groaning your name.

"god, you're the first to take it all, y'got me so fucking deep in that sloppy lil' cunt that y'can feel me in your stomach."

you giggle between moans, pressing your forehead against his. "y'so cute, toji, such a good boy f' me, yeah? feels so much better knowin' you can just tell me if you need me to put you to sleep, right?"

he groans, nodding as his eyes flutter closed again. "y-yeah, yes, baby, feels s' much better," he admits, breathless as he starts to get close. he can feel you getting tighter, getting wetter, and he'll be damned if he cums before you do.

"aww, listen t' you," you say with a little whine, your dominant mask starting to ebb away as you start to grow weaker and weaker. it's starting to feel good, really good, to the point where you can't think either, and you don't know how much more of this you can do. "m-my pretty boy, my good boy, f-fuckin' me s...s-so good..."

the moment he picks up the whininess in your voice, toji is alert, looking into your eyes to find that the pleasure is finally catching up to you, too. "yeah? yeah, mama? she's feelin' good? fuck, 'm gonna fuckin' fill you up, baby, gotta cream this pretty pussy so deep that she feels it f' days," he grunts, mouth open as he pants against your lips.

they look so pretty, he wonders if you taste like that lip balm you always carry, if your tongue is as sweet as you are, if your plump lips are as soft as they look. the thought of them pressing against his is what breaks him, and he's so embarrassed at the noise he makes before leaning back against the pillows and planting his feet into the mattress.

"i gotta fuck you, gotta fuck you good, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, baby, promise i'll let you sleep, promise i'll be good for ya, okay? mm, fuck, c'mon, let toji make it better, gonna kiss your cunt with my cock and make it up t' ya."

toji fucks into your hole desperately, groaning at the loud wet plaps of his hips smacking against yours. your moans, god, your moans, they're so pretty, you're so pretty. he can see your tits bouncing against the fabric of the shirt you have on, and he curses, so fucking mad he didn't have you take it off. but he doesn't care, not right now, not when he sees how gorgeous you look.

he's so fucking prideful when he sees how poofed out your hair is, bouncing with each thrust up into you. "y're so fucking pretty, c'mere."

one of his hands grabs you by the back of the head and smushes his lips against yours, hungry as he licks over them before shoving his stupidly thick tongue inside your mouth. the kiss is just as messy as the rest of you, and the pitiful little moan you give has him reeling.

"i-i'm, 'm gonna cum, toj," you whisper against his mouth, nails biting into his shoulders as you do your best to match his pace. you're gonna cum, he's gonna make you cum, you're about to cum all over his fucking dick, jesus christ.

"fuck, you're so hot, so cute, mama, my pretty girl. need ya t' cum, dolly, can y'do that for me? please, baby, cum on me, make a mess s' i can fill you up an' apologize like i promised," he rambles before kissing you again, biting your lip before running his tongue over it.

it's so close, you can taste it. it's so unfair how big his cock is, how you can feel every vein and throb of it inside of you, how you can feel his hot precum smudging all over your velvety walls.

the realization that he's inside you raw has you moaning so sweetly, and your pussy is gripping him for dear life as you dig your nails into his shoulders even more, head falling forward. "t-toji, 'm, 'm gonna—f-fuck!"

you're cumming, you're cumming on him, and it feels so fucking good. you're creaming all over his lap, and your crying and moaning his name so sweetly he feels like he's gonna pass out. "baby, babyyy, no, lemme see, lemme see you cum," he begs, the hand in your hair tilting your head back up and the view he gets has his hips stuttering inside you.

your eyes are unfocused, long lashes wet from tears as you pant and whimper for him, all for him. and when you make eye contact with him, he feels your gummy walls squeeze him so tight.

"oh, fuck, yes, mama, jus' like that. keep cummin' on me, keep goin', 'm so close, gonna cum, gonna cum in this pretty pussy s' fuckin' deep you feel it in your tummy," toji babbles before he's losing himself too, pressing your head against his chest as he fucks into you, savoring your overstimulated cries for him. "'s gonna go deep, so fuckin' deep an' i'm gonna fuckin' eat it outta you, just like y-you fuckin' deserve—!"

with a pathetic sounding groan of your name, he's giving one, two, three, four hard, deep thrusts, moaning as he pumps his thick load into you, feeling your oversensitive pussy milking him dry. "g-good boy, g'fucking boy, tojiii," you whimper, moving from his chest to pepper kisses all over his face, moaning softly as you feel his hot cum coating your walls.

his mind is so blissfully blank that he doesn't even realize he's shaking a little bit from how hard he just came. cooing happily at him, you cup his cheeks, trying to bring him back down to you. "come back t' me tojiiii, don't die on me, roomie!"

still reeling from his insanely intense orgasm, manages a little chuckle, his hand moving from your ass to under your shirt, stroking your back. "'m here, 'm here, promise...i just...shit. ya fuckin' drained me, girly. what the hell are you?"

you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth before nestling under his chin to catch your breath. "I'm your damn friend who happens to be the roommate you have been tormenting by not letting me sleep, dumbass."

"heh. fair point."

you both stay like this for a bit, just resting a little and trying to catch your breath. except...toji's eyes feel a little heavy, and he feels himself drifting away. "there you goooo," you coo, hand running through his hair. "told ya i'd put you to sleep."

"yeah, yeah, you were right," he grumbles and opens an eye, hand coming up to pinch your cheek. "jus' a lil' nap, okay? we still gotta get you cleaned up. after all, i promised i'd clean my cum outta ya, right?"

"my god, toji, you are nasty."

"but you like ittttt."

you couldn't stop yourself from laughing because, yes, you did. you liked it a lot.

soon, the room falls quiet as toji's breathing falls into rhythm with yours, the rise and fall of his chest steady and slow. his mind is still a bit dazed, and he can't help but get a little flustered as he realizes how badly he's wrapped around your little finger. the thought is only further confirmed when he feels his heart squeeze just a bit when he notices you fell asleep on his chest.

he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, huffing to himself. yeah, so what he was whipped, he finally got you in his arms, so he sees it as a win.

as sleep finally starts to creep up on him, he presses a little kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the pillows and shutting his eyes. just a little nap, and then he'll get you cleaned up and make sure you accept his apology for everything he's put you through.

...he just hopes you won't be too grumpy when you realize you fell asleep without your bonnet on.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff

[irndad]

don't date coworkers- s.r.

a/n: i literally wrote this very fast and also i hope you like it pls go easy on me!!! reader has a policy they don't date coworkers. spencer is so angsty abt that !! also sorry for dropping a new fic at 2am LOL wc: 1.7k

She’s really, really good at talking to people. 

It’s one of the many traits Spencer adores about her. She moves through crowds with ease, and she can charm her way into any piece of information from whatever city cop they need a favor from. She integrated into the team faster than anyone could’ve expected. This is a strength not all profilers have- they know what it takes to know what makes someone appealing, but rare is the ability to be as charismatic and charming as she is. 

She’s good at talking to him.

She’s worked at the BAU for about a year now. 13 months, 7 days and 8 hours since she walked through the doors of the bullpen for the first time, beaming at him for the very first time. Give or take. 

Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew that he was in love with her. He’s halfway certain she does, and is being too polite to mention it. Normally, Spencer is incredibly regimented about boundaries. While the BAU is his family, and there’s no real way to deny that, he knows that he’s less than ideal to go out with. He’s stocky and he never cuts his hair (even though she swears it’s cute longer) and he’s an awkward guy- gangly and tall and just ill-fitting to be part of the scenery of her life. 

It’s a Friday, and a rainy one at that. It’s one of the blessed ones where they don’t really have a case, just paperwork to catch up on, reports and her desk faces a window. 

Normally, when Spencer gets his work done (a good four hours before everyone else on a paperwork-only day), he’d head out. Catch up on whatever Russian novel he’s been chipping away at- but she’s here, and he’s made her favorite tea. 

“I thought you could use a treat,” he says, walking over to her desk. She looks up at him, brushing overgrown bangs, “It’s not really a great one, but I’ll get you some scones on the way to mine, yeah?”

She looks up at him, dropping her pen and focusing entire energy on him. He feels a bit overwhelmed, like an ant under a magnifying glass. 

“Did you know that I adore you, Spence?” 

He is very much not aware. No amount of her saying it will ever make him know. She takes a long sip from the mug. He knows how much honey she likes in it. He studies how she looks, eyes closed serenely, completely invested in what he’s given her. 

“You’ll be taking her home, pretty boy?” Morgan snickers, in a not altogether unkind manner. 

“Fuck off,” she says kindly, not taking her eyes off of Spencer as she rebuffed Morgan’s teasing. 

“Easy, easy,” Morgan laughs, “I’ll leave your boyfriend alone.”

If she has anything to say to that, it doesn’t come out then. 

He’s still bright red, though. Morgan is amused, and Spencer knows that she really, truly adores Morgan. Spencer loves him too, but it would be nice if he laid off the jokes. 

She doesn’t date coworkers. 

He knows this because of the first time they’d met, when he’d been walking in carrying a croissant for Garcia and a coffee for JJ, and saw what can only be described as a truly ridiculously beautiful woman in the bullpen. 

She’d been leaned back, smiling openly as Morgan tossed some random pick-up line towards her. He remembers it now like he can still hear it, her lilting lovely voice carrying just the right amount of warmth to make this not sting, or at least sting as little as possible. 

“I’m sorry, Derek,” she had said, “I make it a point not to date coworkers.” 

Which of course is fine. She can date whoever she wants, and it’s a good policy to have personally. And Spencer’s never really be the kind of guy who excelled at getting dates. He knew from the first minute that he saw her that even if she didn’t think that way… well, it wouldn’t be him, who she picked. 

Now, they are very close. So close that she drives him home from work every Friday. Which usually includes staying at his shitty apartment and watching VHS tapes of documentaries and Doctor Who. 

He wants to kiss her every Friday. All, the time, really. It’s kind of plaguing him. Clearly, she likes hanging out with him. Something about him is appealing. It’s foolish to assume that it’s more than friends, especially for someone like him to be with someone like her. 

She doesn’t date coworkers. 

“I made sure the film tonight has subtitles!”

“Are you saying film because this film is foreign, Spence?”

“I promise it’s worth it!” He says excitedly, “And they’re really done well. You won’t have to have me whisper the translations to you in real time!”

“I didn’t mind that,” She laughs then, a real laugh, “but I’m glad we’re getting to hang out tonight.”

It’s funny- they’ve done this so, so many times, but he never stops being thrilled. 

___________________________________

Sometimes, when the summer air is forgiving enough, they walk home from the office. She takes the train in, and they walk back to his place. Tonight is one of these nights, and god- she looks lovely. She’s tied her blazer around her waist, and the sunset hits her face in that gorgeous baroque painting kind of way. 

“You’re very pretty,” he hears himself say before he can stop it. He’s endlessly pleased when she preens at the praise. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor,” she says, shoving her hands into her pockets, a nervous gesture. He wants to hold those hand, intertwine her lovely delicate fingers with his bony wispy fingers. 

“You’re being nice to me,” he says, looking down at his shoes. They’re stupid. He should wear loafers, or some other shoe that doesn’t make him like half-child half-geek. 

“I’m being accurate, actually,” she says she bumps his shoulder. 

She’d be a wonderful girlfriend. He lives in the world this can happen quite often, in his fantasy. She laughs at his jokes and tells him he’s kind, and good, and she means it. He’s lucky to have this much of her- more than anyone else on the team! Spencer knows he’s her favorite. The way she’s looking at him now, how she give-up her Fridays to spend with him, on his ratty couch, how she always listens. Whenever they're both on the jet and he falls asleep, he always wakes up with a blanket on him. She's so good at loving people.

Being her favorite on the team does not mean he’s in the running to be a boyfriend. But he’d fucking want to be. He’d be a good boyfriend. Spencer, he’s gone so far for her. He fantasizes about getting her flowers that have symbolic meaning.

“Are you okay, boy-genius?”

“I’m better than okay. Do you want popcorn?”

She wants popcorn. He sets the movie up, and she gets comfortable on his couch, curling up with his purple felt blanket, and his mind betrays him with unhelpful images of what it might look like if she was his, if this is what he came home to. 

Don't picture welcome home kisses, or movie nights or being wanted. Don't.

It’s very, very hard to focus on the movie.  

She’s touchy, with him. He’s not sure if it’s because she could never see him as her boyfriend, but he’s grateful as she leans her head on his. She smells like peonies. When the credits roll, they stay like that for minute- her head on his shoulder and one of her legs thrown over his. 

He wonders, not for the first time, if she feels the same way about him. If things were just..different, then they’d be kissing under the haze of his TV right now, if he’d know what that chapstick she carries with her every day tastes like. 

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we met under different circumstances?” he says, once time passes and he speaks instead of thinking.

“Hmm?” She hummed, relaxed eyes flitting their gaze over to him.

“Like, at a bar or something.”

“But you hate bars.”

“That’s why I said or something!”

Her lip juts out adorably, “But then I wouldn’t get to see you in your element.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, resting his neck on the top of the cushion. The AC is a little too much in the room. He wonders if she’s cold. “But who knows. Maybe we’d date, or something.”

It’s the dumbest thing he’s ever fucking said. Both because it was a dumb way to say it, but because it was an advance. He feels white hot shame lick at his spine when he looks at her, and hears her laugh. 

“I don’t think so, Spence.” 

“No,” shitshitshit, “I didn’t mean-“

“I mean, if you don’t want to date me now, I don’t think meeting at like, Whole Foods would’ve been the difference maker.”

It’s then he hears it- the piece he couldn’t place in her voice, when she gets like this. It’s being resigned. 

“What are you talking about?”

“C’mon, Spence,” she says, another bitter chuckle coming through, “You know how I feel. I haven’t exactly beens subtle.”

“But you don’t date coworkers. You have a rule.”

She looks at him with no recognition of what he’s saying. 

“No, because you told Morgan that, it’s the first thing I ever heard you say.”

“Yeah, but-“

“And yes, okay, you’ve been my favorite person almost as long as I’ve known you and yes, I would fucking love for you to be my girlfriend, but that was your rule!”

“You want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Obviously!”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything else before, well- before she’s kissing him. More aggressive than that, really. Crawled onto his lap, arms around his neck, and where she leads Spencer is all too happy to follow. His body is not great at moving on instinct, but his whole nervous system feels alive- the weight of her in his lap, the feel of her waist under his fingers, the way he’s allowed this. It feels like such a pleasure, hedonistic in a way he’s never, ever been allowed to experience.

“You had a rule,” he says dumbly when she pulls away. His lips are wet. He’d like to go back to kissing, thank you very much. 

“You’re the exception, to every rule, Spencer.”

When he kisses her again (which he’s allowed to do now, holy fuck) Spencer decides he’s going to spend the rest of all time earning that status. 

[cannibalizedlove]

Watching you.

Information and warnings — Creepy Donnie, stalker, talks of masturbation, virginity, sex, I don’t know if this is intense enough to warrant a “Dead Dove Do Not Eat” but it’s in that realm so be advised, match his freak? (his freak is criminal behavior).

Donnie Darko was a boy you didn’t really know, you were aware of his existence, yes, but you didn’t really know anything about him except he had terrible handwriting. The two of you sat shoulder partner style in English class. You never really interacted other than the few times you would be missing notes from the day you were absent prior and you had asked permission to copy off of him.

This exchange meant nothing to you, it was to you a simple transaction, nothing more than an easy opportunity to cheat on the next quiz. Yet to Donnie, this was the start of a new life for him.

Donnie had a tendency to get obsessed with things, ever since he was little. When he was younger, he was obsessed with war movies, he would rewind the tape just to watch the bomb scene again and again. Destruction was only the start of his concerning interests. As he grew up, so did the obsessions, a few years prior he was stuck on guns. He passed it off as an interest in fighting for his country, drawing back to the war films, but in reality it was the power of destruction held just by his finger on a trigger.

Now a new one had formed. You see, what you had believed was simply copying notes, was to Donnie; an invitation to a new obsession. He began watching your every move, he knew every tic you had, every nervous habit, every scab that you didn’t know how to leave alone.

Donnie watched you like it was his job, and you didn’t notice it at all.

Donnie was great at that, really. If he was ever called out on his creepy behavior, he easily passed the blame on to his hallucinations, he would pretend to break down and explain that he didn’t want to be a bad guy! It was the people in his head! You have to believe him, sir!

Be it the hallucinations didn’t help his creepy behavior, but they definitely weren’t the only cause of it. Donnie knew he was concerning, and it was a thrill to him.

Yet, you knew nothing about it, you didn’t even notice him.

A part of him resented you for it, he hated you for it. Why won’t you look at him? Why won’t you give him what he desperately craves?

The other part of him, though, loved it. Donnie could stare at you for hours, and you didn’t even notice. You were so oblivious, it was so cute. Donnie thought about the danger you could get yourself into being this unaware, how some terrible person could hurt you, and you wouldn’t even know why!

You should thank him really, if it weren’t for Donnie following you, you could’ve ended up with a real nutcase as a stalker!

The thought of someone else watching you the way Donnie did made him violent, he wondered if any other guys or girls at Middlesex thought about you the way he did. He knew he would take care of them if they even thought about making a move on you, you were his! You just didn’t know it yet, but you didn’t know a lot of things really.

The stalking started out tame, he’d follow you around school, memorize your schedule, take notice of all your stupid friends who weren’t half as interesting as you were. It made him angry, you hung around such stupid people. Why did you spend so much time with these idiots when you could be with him, loving him, taking care of him.

You would soon, he just had to teach you!

The stalking evolved over the next few weeks. He just wanted to make sure you got home safe! Oh, and of course he wanted to know your favorite drink from the gas station! It’s his job to know this, silly!

You know, it’s really dangerous to keep your blinds open, you should invest in curtains! What if a sicko wanted to watch you get changed.

Donnie wasn’t a sicko though, so it was okay for him. It was just to learn about you more, he loved learning about you! He loved learning that you still wore superhero underwear, and how you had all your favorite bands on your wall. On his walk home, he bought a tape from one of your favorites, and hoped you didn’t miss the pair of underwear he took.

Donnie used the pair he took to masturbate frequently. He thought about you when you would listen to your walkman and dance around your room in nothing but a tank top and boxers, or how when you would masturbate yourself you would get really embarrassed after you finished.

He wondered about your virginity, had you slutted yourself out to one of the Middlesex losers, or if you were waiting for the perfect guy such as himself to take it from you.

Sex with you is what he thought about oh so frequently. Sometimes he thought about taking you out to a really nice restaurant, and bringing you home to meet his family, and then make love to you. Other times he would think about opening your window and going from there.

Donnie didn’t want to hurt you, well he did, but only if you would let him! He would never do something you didn’t want, that you knew of.

He just wanted you to notice him, for you to be as in love with him as he is with you! You were Donnie’s whole world, he told his therapist about you every session. Under hypnosis, he told Dr. Thurman he wanted to have sex with you, and she had to wake him up before he could continue his thoughts.

The lack of attention was starting to annoy him more than ever. You didn’t understand. He was perfect for you. Did he have to spell everything out for you? He knew he wasn’t in love with someone dumb. So he began to talk to you more and more to show you how much you really did need him.

You thought he was sweet, he was attentive when you spoke like every word that came out of your mouth was the most interesting thing he had ever heard, and he would leave you little notes in your bag when you were leaving class.

It was only a week of talking before the boy asked you to go with him, and you thought it was the cutest thing. You told him about your favorite bands, and movies, and he smiled and said the two of you should watch them together sometime.

Silly you, he already knew all this. You didn’t have to find that out though! You were his now! It didn’t matter how you got to this point..

[solarsturniolo]

𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 // 𝔖𝔎𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯!ℭ𝔥𝔯𝔦𝔰

©Solarsturniolo 2024

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who only bought kneepads and a helmet after you showed concern for him after a bad tumble. Because, even though he doesn’t care much about his safety, he knows that you do. He’d rather get hit by a car than putting you through the stress again; seeing the way your hands shook as you cleaned up his cuts and the way your eyes watered as you refused to look at him. He decided some safety gear was a good investment.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who holds your hands to keep you steady while you practice on his board. “Easy, you’re thinkin’ too much about it, just imagine your feet are goin’ right through the board into the ground…there ya go-“

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who doesn’t like to sleep alone, so he’ll facetime you or invite you to come ‘hang out’ which will inevitably end in a sleep over. “No I know you slept over last night, and the night before that, and the night before that, but just hear me out-“

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who shares his food with you no matter where you go. He’ll give you shit for it, but you both know he doesn’t care. It almost feels intimate to him, sharing something of his with you and only with you. His brothers will tease him for it later, but all that matters to him is seeing the way your face lights up as he pushes his plate towards you.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who claims your music taste is lame, but will make a playlist of his favorites that you’ll play and listen to it on his late night rides.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who has carved your initials into the underside of his board. He covers it with a sticker, knowing if his brothers found it he’d be cooked. But he hopes that one day he won’t have to hide it anymore.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who is consistently trying to impress you. Whether it’s with a new trick he learned, a photo his brothers took of him, or whatever it ended up being. He feels like he doesn’t have much to offer, so he tries to impress you by being cool.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who can’t sleep on the nights when you’re not available, his thoughts eating away at him as he lies awake in bed. Tossing and turning, groaning as he looks at the alarm clock to see that only ten minutes have passed since the last time he checked. He hates it, he wants you there with him. He felt so empty and alone without you there.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who never forgets a special occasion, no matter how small and insignificant it may seem to others. From birthdays, to holidays, to National Chocolate Chip Cookie Day, Chris remembers every day that is important to you.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who can tease you and mess with you, but would knock anyone else out if they tried doing the same.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who talks about you to his mother so much, she is convinced you’re both married with three children. A boy doesn’t just randomly swoon over a girl for hours to his mother on the phone. “She told me the funniest story the other night when she stayed over-“ “She stayed over again? What is that, four times this week?” “…..anyways, she-“

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who has a raccoon brain and will see something shiny or cute and just has to bring it to you. “A…spoon?” “A tiny spoon! And it has a little pink bow on the end, see!”

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who loves coming over to your house. He swears on his life it’s just because of the atmosphere, but you know it’s because of your pets. He never forgets to greet them upon arrival, and always says (a very lengthy) farewell before he leaves.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who spends six long torturous hours trying to write you a cute note or a poem. His trashcan piled high with drafts that he crumpled and tossed away, because he wanted it to be perfect. You deserved perfect.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who complains when you beg him to let you do his makeup, but secretly loves having you so close to him. The comfortable silence, the brief eye contact, the way you gently dab and brush the different products onto his face. The tightening feeling in his stomach as you lean closer, making sure to be extra gentle around his eyes. He would never admit it in a million years, but part of him wants to ask you to do his makeup every time you come over.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who sends you a fit check every. single. day.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who sends you pictures of the animal friends he makes on the nights he goes out skating with his friends.

‧₊˚✧ Skater!Chris… who cusses often, except when you invite him over to your place. He tends to watch his language when he’s over, not wanting to ‘influence the children’, in reference to your pets.

Reblog divider by @adornedwithlight

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖘: @flowerxbunnie @megamett44-lover @xtravrgnoliveoil @mattsturnswife @sturniolofan4lifee @oversturn @soursturniolo @sturnioz @luverboychris @meerkatzthings @soupuurr @gemofthenight @sturns-4-life @hi-7-hi @blahbel668 @mattspleasure @sturnybabes @jjmaybankswifes-blog @sturniolosreads @bernardsleftbootycheek @egirlshit @matthemunch44-deactivated202408 @nonamegirlxsturniolo @chrizz333 @sturniolopowers @mattsleftnipple03 @worldlxvlys @hearts4chriss @janiellasblog @creamoncreamoncream2 @meg-sturniolo @ellie-luvsfics @lustfulslxt @braindead4l @ghostlythinggoingaround @taekwite @querenciasturniolo @whicked-hazlatwhore @m4ttslvr @mqttittude @bewtyschooldropout @lovelybrokenheal @h3arts4harry @riowritesitall @freshloveforthefit @esioleren @colorthecosmos444 @mbbsgf @kitkatbar1275

[unreliablesnake]

You're reading what? (Ghost x reader x 141)

Summary: Soap finds out you're reading porn in your free time. Ghost decides to ask you about it.

Note: Barracks bunny, barracks bunny, barracks bunny! Sorry, reader's a slut. (affectionate) / I'll probably write more parts, maybe smut, maybe suggestive stuff, maybe fluff... I don't know yet. Check the #barracks bunny fics tag for more. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

It was Soap who found out what you were reading in your limited free time during missions. You left your Kindle on the table while you went to the bathroom, and he wanted to see what book you were so invested in lately. When he read the first two paragraphs, his jaw dropped and a wide grin crept on his face.

"Hey, LT, you won't believe what she's reading," he said while he checked the title of the book just to know what to check later.

Ghost rolled his eyes, completely uninterested at the moment. He was busy writing a report that was due by the end of the day, and he had promised Price that he would do it on time. So he didn't have time to think about what stupid novel you were currently reading.

But Soap didn't give up. He put the device back where it was before, then took the chair next to the lieutenant. "It's porn. I'm not joking, she's reading porn," he said excitedly, keeping his voice down as he spoke.

With mixture of disapproval and interest in his eyes, he turned to the sergeant and asked, "And?"

"What do you mean? She's reading porn. No wonder she dodges every question regarding the books she's reading all the time," he replied before he typed something into his phone. "Here, this is the one she's currently reading."

Ghost took the device from him and tapped on the first search result. He read the summary, then moved on to some quotes the users highlighted. It was interesting to say the least. Were you really into this type of stuff?

When they heard your voice from the hallway, Soap took back his phone and closed the browser before you entered the room again. To you it probably seemed like they were talking about the mission and the report Ghost was writing, and this is why the lieutenant felt a little bad for this invasion of your privacy.

After being on this mission for so long, he was obviously frustrated. He couldn't just go to a bar to pick up someone, and his hand was less and less satisfying these days. His mind recently began to travel back to you and your book, and one afternoon, when he had some unexpected free time, he found himself buying and downloading that novel on his phone.

He got quite far in a matter of hours, and he couldn't help himself when he found you alone in a room after dinner. Ghost sat down across from you and took the Kindle from your hands to take a look at it. "Still reading porn?" he asked teasingly.

You gulped, your cheeks probably burning from the embarrassment you clearly felt. "H–How do you know about that?" you asked him after a few seconds of awkward silence.

"Soap stole this the other day," he replied as he gave back the device. "Don't worry, I think I'm the only one he told about this. Your secret's safe with me."

"I don't even want to know what you think about me now," you said with your head buried in your hands.

Ghost let out a dry laugh as he peeled your hands off your face. "Hey, it's okay. We spend way too much time here, I think it's safe to say we all need our fix one way or another," he assured you while holding your hand, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles into your skin.

Maybe he was flirting with you. The more he thought about you and what he had read in that novel, the more he wished he could do that in real life with you. He had always liked you; the disciplined, tough, but also kind soldier that got along with everyone on the team.

And the one Price played favorites with, he reminded himself. They all had their suspicions about the captain's motivation, believing he himself had a crush on you from the start. After all, why else would he bring you small gifts every time you met again? Why would he spend hours talking to you alone?

Sometimes Ghost wondered if there was anything between the two of you. Were you off-limits? Or was it a one-sided thing?

"And what do you do to get your fix?"

Your question brought him back to reality and he instinctively let go of your hand. He couldn't say that he jerked off to the thought of you. No, that would be way too creepy. So he shrugged, hoping this was enough to answer your question.

After a short pause, Ghost folded his hands on the table and leaned a little closer to you. "Have you ever tried anything that you read in your little books?" he asked you with a grin under the mask.

With your head tilted to the side, you watched him in silence for a while as you thought about your answer. "Do you even know what's in them exactly?"

"I began to read one of them. The one that reminded me of the Fifty Shades of Grey stories, only in a hardcore version," he replied casually.

An amused hum left your lips. "How do you even know what those stories are about? You don't seem to be the type who's into them."

Of course, Ghost had an answer to that. "I had an ex who made me watch the whole series. I didn't like it. Back to my question, have you tried anything from that book for example?"

"I have," you replied immediately, shamelessly grinning as you watched him.

It was hard to surprise Ghost these days, but hearing you answering so honestly definitely took him off guard. "The whole power play thing?" You nodded without hesitation as you took a sip of your soda. "With who?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, it doesn't," he admitted, knowing full well he probably wouldn't know that person anyway.

The pair of you sat there in silence for a while, your eyes locking every now and then before you flashed a smile at him then dived back into your book. He didn't mind, instead of complaining he just leaned back in the chair and watched you.

Ghost hated feeling this way, he hated that he could do nothing but wish for a cold shower in your presence. If he stood up now, you would surely notice how excited he was to be near you. He wanted to play with you too, he wanted to find out what you had learned from those books of yours.

Gaz walked into the room with a stupid smile on his face then put his hands on your shoulders as he leaned closer. "Price wants to see you," he announced before suddenly taking the ebook reader from you and taking a look at the page you were at. "Ooooh, another one? Do you even read anything else?"

Biting on your lower lip, you exhaled through your nose angrily. "I'm gonna kill Soap. I swear to God I'm gonna shoot him before we go home," you told them before snatching your Kindle from Gaz's hands and heading towards the door.

But on the way there you stopped behind Ghost and leaned down to his ear. He could feel your hot breath on his skin which made his cock twitch in his pants. Fuck, what were you doing to him?

"By the way, if you want to know more about what I want to try from those books, just say it. I'm sure we could arrange that," you added as your hand squeezed his shoulder.

Before he could say anything, you left the room, leaving him alone with Gaz. "Oh, you haven't figured it out yet," the sergeant said with a laugh.

"Figured out what?" Ghost asked, completely dumbfounded.

But Gaz only shrugged. "She's fun to be around. That's all I'm saying."

And with that, he left too. The lieutenant had absolutely no idea what to think. There were you, probably suggesting sleeping with him one day, and there was Gaz with his mysterious comment about you. As he let out a groan, he let his forehead hit the table with a loud thud. Why couldn't things be simple?

[yanderes-galore]

I gots more, can you do Yuji (and/or Gojo) with a darling from the real world? Or like he’s self aware?

My favorite way to write self-aware show characters is to write an entity that acts just like them. Similar to an Analog Horror I've seen (Forgot the name but if you want it, I can hunt it down) So for this, that's kinda the plot I'm working with if that's okay. So like... a Creepypasta-like thing if that's fine.

So, the plot is similar to something I've done in the past for both: You buy a DVD of JJK... but something isn't quite right as you soon learn. No plot spoilers here for JJK. Purely an AU.

Feedback is appreciated as long as it's constructive! I could probably do this with other characters if I was given ideas. Both ideas start the same but begin to differ later.

Yandere Self-Aware! Yuji Itadori + Satoru Gojo

(Analog AU - An Experimental Name?)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, "Self-Aware" yandere, Analog AU (?), Stalking, Overprotective behavior, Unrequited feelings, Delusional behavior, Kidnapping, Possessive behavior, Forced relationship.

Yuji Itadori

Yuji Itadori is your favorite character from Jujutsu Kaisen.

There's just something about his resolve and ability to find happiness despite his situation that makes you fond of him.

It's all harmless fun for you, everyone has a favorite character after all.

Although... unlike most... it appears you've been caught in something you weren't expecting.

The DVD you bought off online didn't have the best packaging... but DVDs that aren't official tend to have bootleg packaging.

You just couldn't afford a streaming service and wanted to binge the two seasons of JJK they have out.

It seemed harmless enough, who hasn't pirated or purchased a pirated DVD at some point without knowing.

Even when you watched the DVD, everything seemed the same.

You were completely unaware of something lurking deep within.

This entity, now given the name Yuji Itadori, was awoken and given life when you used the DVD.

It could sense your fondness for the character and took the likeness of him.

Everything from appearance, personality, and mannerisms was copied as the entity took a new life.

Eventually they felt they were the character and felt every bit of fondness you had for them.

That's how "Yuji Itadori" came into being.

It's when this transfer is complete that things start to alter.

It's like the DVD opens an alternate universe, one where the events of JJK are part of their very own world.

Yuji originally believed everything was real.

This was his life... until he felt your presence.

At first he's in denial, not liking the idea of being trapped somewhere.

But then he sees you.

You are someone he can't reach, someone beyond a screen he can only look at.

While you watch the events of JJK play out on your little DVD, Yuji watches you.

It's a bit ironic, until he grows strong enough and more aware, the show character watches you just as invested as you are.

Yuji can't help but fall into a delusional sense of love and care for you.

He can't help but be excited whenever he catches glimpses of you.

His obsession is vague, as he is just now learning about his love for you.

He feels he wants to protect you, yet expresses frustration when he can only watch you from a clear barrier.

You can pick up on his self-aware behavior, things like glances, waves, and times where he says your name when other characters aren't looking.

The change is slow for him, but quick for you.

His feelings and growth continues through the episodes, the time feeling like months or years for him but hours for you.

Half way through the show you notice Yuji's behavior.

You're frightened at first, but maybe a morbid curiosity fills you?

This begins with you two properly communicating.

Certain plot points are paused or lengthened all so Yuji can speak with you.

It's so strange... like you're actually speaking to a human being.

Yuji is always very affectionate when speaking with you.

Often calling you nicknames, asking questions, and providing comfort after long days.

You see him as your little digital companion, while Yuji sees you as a lot more than that.

He's the only one aware of you, the other characters seem more like puppets to Yuji so he can play a story for you.

He likes seeing you happy and does whatever he can to make you smile.

Darker behavior manifests later as Yuji begins to realize he... isn't a big part of your life.

Through the screen he can see you have friends, family, everything.

You're the biggest part of his world, but he's the smallest part of yours.

As this DVD has supernatural capabilities (clearly), perhaps Yuji would pull you into his world once he fears he can lose you.

The next time you get to watch JJK, Yuji greets you.

"Hey! I've been preparing a surprise for you..."

Curious, you go to ask what it is...

Only to pass out.

By the time you wake up, you're not in your world anymore.

You wake up in a dorm, clearly not your room.

As you wake up, you jump back when you see Yuji kneeling beside you.

"Great! It did work!" He chirps happily, eyes closed with a smile on his face.

You go to ask what happened, only for Yuji to hold your hands.

"I brought you to my world! You mean a lot to me... plus, here I can shape this world to anything you want."

Yuji pulls you closer, closer to the point you can see a red glint in his eyes.

"I love you... and I just want to make you happy." Yuji vows, the confession innocent despite the situation.

"We'll make this our own little world."

"I want to go home!" You cry, confusing Yuji.

"Why would you ever want to leave...?"

Yuji asks, pulling you close.

"You'll be so happy here..." Yuji murmurs, eyes giving off a dull red glow.

"You won't ever want to leave... you won't ever leave me again."

From that point on, you live in an artificial world.

You and Yuji are the only ones "real" here.

Now he's the most important thing in your life, just like you are to him.

Satoru Gojo

Satoru Gojo is your favorite character from Jujutsu Kaisen.

There's just something about his playful/cocky attitude and perhaps even his looks that makes you fond of him.

It's all harmless fun for you, everyone has a favorite character after all.

Although... unlike most... it appears you've been caught in something you weren't expecting.

The DVD you bought online didn't have the best packaging... but DVDs that aren't official tend to have bootleg packaging.

You just couldn't afford a streaming service and wanted to binge the two seasons of JJK they have out.

It seemed harmless enough, who hasn't pirated or purchased a pirated DVD at some point without knowing.

Even when you watched the DVD, everything seemed the same.

You were completely unaware of something lurking deep within.

This entity, now given the name Satoru Gojo, was awoken and given life when you used the DVD.

It could sense your fondness for the character and took the likeness of him.

Everything from appearance, personality, and mannerisms was copied as the entity took a new life.

Eventually they felt they were the character and felt every bit of fondness you had for them.

That's how "Satoru Gojo" came into being.

It's when this transfer is complete that things start to alter.

It's like the DVD opens an alternate universe, one where the events of JJK are part of their very own world.

Due to how Gojo is, he'll probably learn that his world isn't real faster than Yuji.

He'll learn that things aren't as they seem, that those around him are merely puppets for him to use.

At first he's a bit hurt... yet now he's curious.

He only gets more intrigued when he learns of your presence.

While you watch him through the screen, he watches you.

You always look so happy when he plays his part on screen, playing his role through the events of his world.

Gojo still plays along, even as he grows increasingly obsessive about you.

He just knows you two are different.

It only annoys him when he's kept from you by a clear barrier, looking at you through your TV or monitor as you watch him.

He's strong... but not strong enough to have you, it seems.

To him, it feels like his obsession has gone on for years.

For you? It feels like hours.

You're just happy to watch one of your favorite shows...

Completely unaware of your favorite character fantasizing about finally meeting you.

That is until Gojo decides enough is enough... and makes his presence known.

"Oi! Can you hear me?"

He makes contact with you by pausing events in the story and waving to the screen.

Maybe similar to the Yuji portion you're overcome with morbid curiosity more than fear.

Which leads to you feeding into Gojo's obsession by speaking with him.

Due to having his world under his control, Gojo's capable of pausing or slowing down events in the story to speak with you.

He alters things to entertain you and often speaks to you.

You end up spending more time speaking to him than watching the show normally.

You learn that Gojo is very playful with you.

He often waves, makes heart shapes with his hands, and winks at you.

He likes to say your name to mess with you and does his best to press himself closer to the screen so you can touch it.

It disturbs you that the screen is often... warm when he touches it.

Gojo's usually always playful with you until he begins to realize the truth.

He loves you, more than anything he loves you.

His little world would feel lonely without you.

His whole purpose is to entertain you, to make a good story for you and keep you company.

He lives for you.

Yet he notices you have others around you...

You have friends, family, perhaps even a lover.

He's only a little part of your life... and it upsets him greatly.

Gojo tries to hide his hurt from you as he watches you chat with others.

He wants nothing more than to have you all to himself in this little world of his...

When he grows stronger... he can.

It's ironic for Gojo to need to be "stronger".

In his world, he's the strongest.

Yet he takes time to grow more in order to have you.

He won't have to worry about your lover or anyone afterwards.

"I have something to show you~!"

His voice is in a purr when you go to speak with him again.

"Here's my gift... you know I just want to make you happy..."

You begin to feel woozy, slumping over.

"You know I just want to make you mine."

By the time you wake up, you're in a room you don't recognize.

Only for Gojo to show up with a grin.

"Yo!" He chirps, ignoring the fear in your eyes. "I did pretty good, right? You're in my world now... but I can change anything I want to make it the best for you."

He's so giddy about having you beside him.

In here, he doesn't have to worry about those close to you.

He has everything under control... and you in his arms.

"What's with the look? Come on, where's my hug?" He pouts, pulling you against him even if you struggle.

"You'll get used to it..." Gojo whispers, a kiss placed on your forehead.

"I exist to please you..." Gojo whispers, kissing your cheek.

"This is our world now... I'll never let you leave me now that I've got you."

[just4koo]

perfect for you - jjk.

summary: it’s so rare that your boyfriend makes a mistake. so when he does, it’s a hard reminder for both of you that he’s not perfect, he’s human. but if anything, he’s perfect for you.

word count: 3.1k

genre/warnings: established relationship, angst, comfort, both jk and reader are whipped for each other!!, a lot of self-deprecating thoughts, it has a cute ending but hurts my heart (most of it is just jk feeling shitty for his mistake) :(

——————————————————————————

There was one thing your boyfriend hated most in the world, and it was seeing you upset. Whether it was for something simple like the gas station being out of your go-to drink or something much worse - if he was the reason. You were the light of his life, and just seeing a frown on your pretty face was enough to make his heart shatter into millions of pieces.

That's why he always did everything in his power to keep you happy. Surprise you every week with one of your favorite snacks, leave a bouquet of flowers at your work desk, cook you your favorite dinner. He did it all just so he could keep you happy. Because when you were happy, everything was right in his world.

Tonight had been one of the nights he was planning on having a small date with you. The new horror movie that you had been raving about was finally out on streaming services and you had been looking forward to this movie night for the whole week. You even decided to take off work a couple hours early because this time you wanted to be the one to treat your boyfriend.

He was always the giver of the relationship. Even though you felt bad many times because you felt like you didn't give nearly as much as he did, he was always there to console you. Reassure you that receiving your love was the only gift he could ever want.

Even though you hated to admit it, sometimes it was hard to remember that your boyfriend of 2 years isn't perfect. He makes mistakes too, and that's completely fine. It's just hard to face.

You were excited for the evening when you got the text from Jungkook that he was on the way to his boxing lesson and would be back home in an hour and a half. Your boyfriend was definitely a busy man, but that never once bothered you. He put so much passion and work into his profession, he deserved everything he'd earned up to his day. So besides the fact that you were a little dejected when he added boxing lessons onto his long list of things to do, you supported him just like you always did. After all, no matter how many things he’d taken onto his plate, he always found a spot to fit you in. Made one if he had to.

When you received the text you were in the middle of setting up the house. You may have taken the idea of treating him a bit overboard, but you didn't care. This was only a portion of what he did for you, and you could spontaneously treat him just like he did with you. You weren't doing anything too extravagant, but you wanted to have a nice night in with him.

You took the liberty of cooking your own food instead of ordering out, which had been a bit of a challenge. After almost burning yourself with the oil more than just a few times, the fried chicken had turned out a beautiful golden brown. You spent the time searching through the internet to find the perfect sauce recipe that replicated one from his favorite fried chicken restaurant.

You had even decided to set up a cozy setup on the couch. Laying out fuzzy blankets along with snacks you had gotten from the convenience store down the street, you were pretty much ready for a long night in with your boyfriend. Due to your flexible workdays, you went in fairly late the next day so you could stay up late to watch the movie and maybe even a couple episodes of the true crime series you had both got invested in. You knew that he would want to take a shower when he got back from his boxing practice so you even laid out a fresh towel and pair of pajamas for him in the bathroom so he wouldn't have to do any unnecessary work.

You finished the food right on the dot, at the exact time that he always came back from his practices. You sat down on the couch with a content smile. The air smelled of the delicious fried chicken that you had set out on two different plates and the movie was pulled up on the TV.

All you had to do at this point was wait for your handsome boyfriend to come through the door so you could finally give him some of the treatment that he always graced you with. You glanced down at your phone to slightly frown at the time. It was 10 minutes past when he usually came home, but you decided to just shrug it off. It was a Friday and traffic got bad sometimes.

That was the excuse that you tried to use until the time had soon hit 9:30. You were borderline worried at this point, because there were no texts from him or updates on anything that was happening. You were wondering if he was even safe at this point, but the worry had faded away when you checked and confirmed that he was still at the gym. Sometimes you felt a bit bad for invading his privacy and checking his phone location, but in situations like this you couldn't help yourself. You never doubted him or his loyalty, but this was just a matter of concern.

When the clock hit 9:55, you were instead becoming upset. He was almost an hour late on coming home and there had been no texts or calls from him telling you why he was at the gym this late. His phone was obviously on, you had even sent a couple of texts asking if he was alright. All to receive no reply from him.

Did he really not remember? Not even after you had spent the whole week only talking about this one night and how much you were looking forward to this? You would be a bit less upset if he even bothered to text you and tell you why he was running so late, but you had received no communication.

It was when 10:15 hit that you were done waiting. You had grown too upset over this, and sitting on the couch while blinking away your tears wasn't going to fix anything. After eating your plate of the now slightly soggy fried chicken you had made over an hour ago, you were retiring to the bedroom.

If he wanted to be over an hour late home and not text you once, he could come home to a quiet house. With a shaky sigh you slipped off the matching pajamas you had been waiting to wear and instead changed into one of your oversized sleep shirts before crawling into the cold bed and curling up with a pillow, shutting your eyes.

--

Jungkook knew he fucked up. It was something that he usually never did when it came to you because being the cause of your distress was the last thing he would ever want. He had been so stressed with his upcoming photoshoots for his solo dropping in a month that he had been spending extra time at the gym. He wanted to be in shape for the photoshoots, especially since it had been long since he had any major media uploads.

After spending around 6 months being inactive while his older bandmates had gone to the military, he had fallen out of his normal habits. Not that he gained a huge amount of weight, he just wasn't satisfied with how the break changed him. Which was the reason he had spent so much time at the gym.

Not that he was ever expecting to spend an extra hour at the gym. He hadn't meant to, getting distracted in all the drills that his instructor was teaching him. He should've trusted the off feeling in his gut when it came, telling him that he had forgotten something.

There was one major problem with this gym he went to - the service absolutely sucked. After hitting send on a text at 9:00 that he would be spending extra time at the gym, he hadn't spent the few seconds to make sure the text went through and therefore missed the error on the screen. Even though the bad reception wasn't his fault, his heart still dropped when he left the gym and saw his notifications.

At first he wasn't that worried because he remembered the terrible reception, but then it dawned on him. One of the texts you sent him had something about you waiting with the movie ready. His eyes widened as he looked at the screen and he could physically feel his heart dropping to his stomach.

How could he forget? You had been talking about this date night all week, saying it was the one thing you were looking forward to it. And he forgot all about it and instead to take extra time at the gym. Without even letting you know, because the stupid message didn't even send through.

After he read your messages he was instantly sending replies, hurried apologies and telling you that he would be home soon. He practically sprinted to his car and threw his gym bag into the passenger seat, barely taking the time to buckle up before he sped off.

His mind was racing at the moment, beating himself down for forgetting. Since messing up was something that Jungkook practically never did, whenever he made a mistake he was always beating himself up for it. Repeatedly calling himself a dumbass as he sped through the streets at 10:40.

He had rushed so much that he left his bag in the car, only grabbing his keys and phone before jamming on the elevator button and impatiently waiting for it to arrive. His foot was repeatedly tapping on the floor, one of his most common displays of distress and anxiety. After what seemed like a 5 minute elevator ride, he was hurriedly running down the hallway and apologizing for almost full on bulldozing a lady who was going the opposite way. He jammed the keys into the door and opened it, his eyes immediately searching for you.

If possible, his heart dropped even more when he saw the scene in front of him. The dim lights were still on as he took in everything you spent time to set up. The blankets on the couch, the movie still pulled up on the TV, the food. His heart was slowly but shattering as he realized that you did this all for him. He even noticed the oil fryer sitting on the kitchen counter with the two plates of next to it, only one plate full. You had even cooked for him? He knew how terrified you were of using the oil frier due to your many attempts at making fries that just ended up in him being forced to handle it.

The most important thing to him at the moment however was the absence of you. You weren't sitting on the couch, standing in the kitchen, or even glaring at him when he came into the house. That was what scared him shitless. After carelessly dropping his keys and phone onto the kitchen counter and slipping off his shoes he was walking straight to the bedroom. Every time he looked at a new spot, he was feeling more and more shitty. You had prepared all of this for him and he basically stood you up.

His frown deepened when he walked into the dark bedroom and made out your figure laying down in the bed cuddling a pillow. You had to go to sleep while hugging something, and that something was usually Jungkook. But tonight you had to use the pillow instead of him because he wasn't there. It should be him holding you right now, but he had missed all of this just because he was worrying about his appearance rather than being with the one person who had full access to his heart and soul.

The only thing on his mind right now was apologizing to you. Telling you that he was an idiot and neglected the most important person in his life. But when he saw your even breathing he paused a bit, heaving a quiet sigh. He was conflicted right now. He didn't want to disturb you, but at the same time he didn't want you waking up the next morning and realizing that he came home and didn't try to apologize to you.

So instead he decided to do something that he knew might wake you up. Whenever he came home late at night from his schedules, you'd always get woken up by him running the shower. Most nights you'd join him, massaging any of the tension he'd collected that day.

He walked into the bathroom and once again winced when he saw the towel and pair of pajamas that you'd laid out for him. It was one of the matching pairs you got for them. Something cheesy you did that he pretended to hate but secretly loved. His bottom lip was slightly quivering when he turned the shower water on and proceeded to get in to wash himself.

A huge part of him was hoping that he would hear the shower door open or feel your gentle hands on his shoulders. But after 10 minutes, nothing happened. So he just decided to get out of the shower and dry himself on, only putting on his boxers since it was usually what he wore to sleep.

Even though you hadn't come to join him in the shower, he could tell that his plan partially worked. Your breathing was no longer leveled out and your position had slightly changed, meaning that you woke up. He could also see a glimpse of your face and your eyes were halfway opened.

He knew that now was his chance to apologize to you for being a shitty boyfriend and forgetting the date that you had planned. He was fully prepared to beg for your forgiveness if he had to, get on his knees, anything. He just didn't want you to be upset or angry.

He slowly sat down on the bed, moving closer towards you as he got under the covers. He cautiously laid a hand on your shoulder and almost let out a sigh of relief when you didn't move or hit his hand away. At least you weren't angry with him.

But he thought that this was worse. You were upset with him, and that meant that you had probably cried. He took your lack of a reaction as an okay to move a bit closer - and so he did. He moved to where he was right behind you, his hand beginning to softly caress the skin of your shoulder.

"Hey Princess, you awake? I'm sorry that I woke you up, but I just wanted to apologize. I know that you don't deserve excuses, and I don't want to give you any. It was completely my fault for forgetting about this date night and I'm so sorry. I know that you've been so excited about this all week and it slipped my mind. I'm so sorry." Jungkook said in one of the most gentlest, softest voices. He was waiting in anticipation for your answer, but felt any hope dissipate from your lack of answer. He fucked up big time, and he felt like he deserved a worst boyfriend ever award.

Knowing better than to push you when you were upset with him, he just settled for placing a small kiss on your shoulder before he moved back to his side of the bed. He stared at the ceiling for a while, wondering if you even wanted him to be in there. He thought that if you didn't want to communicate with him, then you probably wanted your alone time and him to not be in the same room as you.

He was about to get out of the bed to go walk to the living room when he was surprised by a movement from your side of the bed. He was frozen in place when he felt the warmth of your body on his side, one of your arms wrapping around him and your head moving to rest on his chest.

"It's fine." You mumbled simply, which was enough to lift all of the weight off of Jungkook's shoulders and make him feel like he was floating. You weren't ignoring him, and you were the one to reach for him. Even if the tear stains on your cheeks did nothing but make his heart constrict, he pushed any of those feelings away.

He decided against his better judgement to not say anything in response and just hold you. He had already apologized, and you accepted it. He didn't need to say anything else, and so he just wrapped his arms around you. Pulling you closer to him and closing his eyes to fall asleep once he felt your breathing even out once again.

--

It had been hard the night before to stop Jungkook from leaving the bed. You could tell what had been going through his head at the moment and you hated it. The only thing that you didn't like about Jungkook was how hard he was on himself. Not only when it came to work, but also when it came to personal matters.

He was a perfectionist to the core. There had been so many times you had been called by his managers because you were the only one who could drag him out of the practice room. Too many times you had caught him in the bathroom frowning at himself or crying because of a mistake he made on stage.

Your boyfriend only wanted what was best for his fans, to prove to himself and others that he was skilled. So you could tell just from Jungkook's tone and words that he was beating himself up for what he did. He barely ever made mistakes.

There was only one other occasion you could think of a mistake he made before in the three years you had been dating him and 5 years you had known him before that. The only reason that you had been initially so upset was because of this. He never made mistakes, so it was sort of a shock to your system when he did this.

But you had to remind yourself that no matter how perfect he presented himself, your boyfriend was a human. Humans have flaws and make mistakes. Nobody is perfect no matter how hard you try. You had made way more mistakes than he had and each time he was the one comforting you instead of the other way around. Your boyfriend wasn't perfect, but he was perfect for you. You loved him with all of your heart just as he loved you.

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎThe Heir౨ৎ꣑ৎ

(requested)(@kayleigh--23 <3) [fem reader] contains: pregnancy angst, arranged marriage, pressure to become pregnant. pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: You thought being married to Coriolanus Snow would be enough, but when there is pressure on the two of you to have a child, the events that follow are life changing. author’s note: Oh I do adore pregnancy angst. Another take on the arranged marriage trope, please enjoy! Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

"...an heir."

You could barely hear the words through the door. Your husband of one and a half years and an old Snow family friend, a man called Mr. Vesta, had disappeared into his study an hour ago and they hadn't allowed you in. It had sounded important, and you couldn't help it, you needed to know what it was. Especially after you'd heard your name mentioned more than once.

With one ear to the door, you'd caught bits and pieces of the conversation. None of it made sense in your mind, this new bit of information least of all.

Coriolanus Snow was the least objectionable option when it came to marriage. Not that you'd had a choice at all in the matter, but for your own peace of mind you pretended. You pretended it hadn't been a strategic political move on his part to marry someone from your family. You pretended Mr. Vesta wasn't overbearingly and old fashioned-ly invested in the image the two of you presented as a married couple.

The goal was to make him president. You knew that much. And Mr. Vesta, as well as having known Coriolanus his entire life, had experience in running for office. But you knew very little else. Politics in Panem were a mystery to you, and at times they could be archaic. At least, the things everyone wanted you to do were.

The dresses you had to wear, the people you were seen with, how you acted. Hell, the arranged marriage itself seemed that way to you. But this was how it was done. Your own mother had married your father for similar reasons, though her situation had nothing to do with politics, only social gain. Yours was both.

You went into the marriage with a positive attitude. This will be what you make of it, you'd been told. You figured if you walked in with a positive attitude and determination it would work out the best it could.

But then you met your husband to be.

He was handsome but cold. Charming but manipulative. Attentive at times but distant at most. Every good thing about him was punctuated by a flaw. He'd make a good politician, you'd noted.

The wedding was a blur of photographers and fed lines. He'd barely acknowledged you, and you knew every look, every touch was false. It cheapened the whole experience for you, and a resentment built up inside you.

At least after the wedding night he'd allowed separate bedrooms.

Maybe you'd have felt guilty about your feelings toward him if he'd shown any sign of fondness toward you. But he didn't. He ignored you most days, except when he needed your influence or your image or your body.

Which is why now, in the present, you hardly worried about the consequences of eavesdropping. If they were talking about you in there, you deserved to know.

"...bring her in..."

Forgetting your confidence, you scurried away as quietly as you could, returning to the sitting room, where you'd last been spotted by them. Picking up a book, you pretended to read until Mr. Vesta, an older man with a beard, came in and said that your presence was required in the study.

Ignoring the way he'd spoken to you in your own home, you followed him back through the study doors, nodding at everyone in the room before your eyes moved to your husband.

Coriolanus was sitting behind his desk, a look of discontentment on his face. What had they been talking about in here? You moved to his side automatically. He may have not been your number one pick, but he was the safest person in the room for you to stand by.

Putting your hand on the back of his chair, you looked between them. "What did you need from me?"

"We're here to discuss a proposition," Mr. Vesta said, looking entirely too comfortable. He nodded at your husband. "Snow?"

Coriolanus took in an almost frustrated breath and turned up to you. He held eye contact with you for a moment before speaking. "It has been suggested that we..." he inhaled through his nose. "...produce an heir."

You blinked in surprise, doing a double take. When you looked at the other man, you could see that this wasn't a joke. They were serious.

"...No," you said in disbelief, looking back at your husband. "This was never part of the arrangement."

"Things change," Mr. Vesta said, giving you a pointed look. "It is imperative that you produce an heir by the end of the year. A male heir."

That sentence was so offensive to you that you had to look away for a moment. When you gathered your manners back, you said, "Why is this suddenly so important? Isn't us being married enough?"

"Coriolanus is the last of the Snow name," Mr. Vesta said, seeming to think he was providing an explanation. "It would have to happen eventually. In the best interest of keeping the old family names around."

"I don't see how that serves your interests," you said stiffly, and Coriolanus grabbed your hand, squeezing it as a warning, the cool of his ring pressing into your skin.

"It was of the utmost importance to Crassus that I, specifically, see this through," the bearded man said in stern tones. "He hoped his son would be able to carry it out on his own-" he gave Coriolanus his own pointed look- "but since he has not, it was time for me to step in. Not to mention that having a son would increase political gains greatly. Seeing that an old family is still strong."

You were dazed. It all felt so ridiculous to you. Of all the things they'd made you do for this role, this had to be the worst. They were asking you to not just sleep with a man you hated, but to bear his child. And Coriolanus himself looked less than happy about it.

"Within the year," Mr. Vesta repeated, and he stood up. "Both your image and your obligations to your family depend on it." He nodded stiffly at you, then left. You never got the impression that Mr. Vesta was all that fond of you. He didn't see you as a person, more as a machine that broke now and then but was ultimately served its' purpose.

Once he was gone, you turned to Coriolanus, your expression horrified. "You're not seriously thinking about this are you?"

"We don't have a choice," he said, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Yes we do," you protested, kneeling by his chair, grasping the arm. You were trying to look him in the eye, but he was avoiding you. "We're already married. Your image is intact-"

"But my family isn't," he said sharply, turning suddenly to look at you. "You don't understand. I have a responsibility to continue the line and Vesta reminded me of that." He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly. "I apologize that I didn't disclose this before but it's not optional."

"Coriolanus-"

"You think I want to do this?" His voice was irritated, and he stood up suddenly. You did too, surprised.

"No, but-"

"We have to," he said angrily, pacing. "I don't want to do it either but there are no other options. I need Vesta's support, and unfortunately that comes with the wishes of my late father."

You were silent, tears pricking your eyes as you realized this was really going to have to happen. Scoffing in disbelief and trying to hide your emotion, you buried your face in your hands.

He sighed, and you heard him move closer to you, his polished shoes making a distinct sound on the hardwood floor. "Sweetheart...I'm sorry. I am. But you're my wife. You know that means fulfilling certain...obligations."

Coriolanus took your hands in his, removing them from your face. "We'll make the process as quick as possible, okay?"

When you nodded, there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "That's a good girl. The sooner you're pregnant the sooner it'll be over with."

It was terrifying how well Coriolanus knew himself.

The domineering persona he'd built up when entering the political game may as well have become him. It was a skill he'd honed- the art of pretend.

But every thorn had its flower.

You.

Before meeting you he had high hopes for marriage. He'd hoped you'd be tolerable to look at, decent in conversation, with half a brain. Someone who'd please him, but nothing more.

But you were far beyond that.

Upon your first meeting he knew he was doomed. You were extraordinarily beautiful, with a pretty laugh. And so clever. You'd discussed literature and art so naturally, easy as breathing. Within the first hour of knowing you he knew he could fall deeply, madly in love with you.

And therein laid the problem.

Love was not the goal. In fact, love strayed so far from the goal that it was almost the opposite. If Coriolanus fell in love with you, it would ruin him. His mind, his soul, his pursuits. He'd gone to Vesta afterward and asked if there was anyone else, anyone at all. Surely there was some other girl who was less...enticing, but still had good connections.

Vesta hadn't seen a problem with the arrangement. He'd chided Coriolanus for it. He had the most sought-after woman in the Capitol. Your social status would make him more favorable in the eyes of voters, as would seeing him in love. Seeing no other options, Coriolanus had agreed.

To marrying you, not being in love.

He'd endured the game, accompanying you to dinners and galas, and going through with the wedding, all the while keeping you at arm's length. Coriolanus resolved that the only way to keep himself from falling in love was distance. And distance he maintained.

Except for at public events, he avoided you. Occasionally, he'd beckon you to his bed, whenever he needed to relieve some stress or tension, but that was the extent of it. He couldn't help himself- you were just so perfect. And you were his wife after all.

No matter how he justified his actions, it still felt wrong.

With Vesta's newest demand Coriolanus felt his control over the situation slipping. The old man didn't know what he was asking of him. Honestly how could he have, but it was still frustrating. He was asking them to produce a child as casually as one would ask a favor.

The worst part was seeing how distraught you were over it. A bit of his heart had warmed at seeing how you'd come to stand by his side but it was squashed quickly by what he had to tell you.

An heir. And not just an heir, a son.

Coriolanus could have strangled Vesta. It was ridiculous how invested he was in such private affairs. But his father's old friend was experienced in an area he desperately needed help in: politics. So, he had no choice but to accept.

Seeing you on the verge of tears had nearly broken him. He allowed himself to comfort you, just a little, convincing himself that that was what any husband would do, even if he didn't love his wife, which Coriolanus certainly didn't.

You fell pregnant quickly, which he was thankful for. For his sake but surprisingly, more for yours.

Naturally, he kept close tabs on you while still trying to maintain the distance he'd determined was the best solution for the situation. Reports were delivered to him daily.

You were quiet most days, hardly speaking to anyone. He felt guilt over that. Vesta and their public relations team had determined that for the first bit of pregnancy it was best for the two of you to stay out of the spotlight. That meant you were hardly able to leave. And with his insistence on distance, well...it was inevitable that you'd be lonely.

As the months progressed, his reports contained more concerning information. You were losing weight at an alarming rate, becoming more drawn. The baby was doing exceptionally well thanks to the doctors he'd brought in. But you...you were suffering for it.

He saw evidence of this when he was standing at the window of his study one day, taking a pause from his work, when he saw you in the rose garden wandering amongst the blooms.

The reports had not done your condition justice. Even from the window on the third floor he could see how thin you were, even with your belly swelling.

Beautiful, he couldn't help thinking as he watched you. Even in your current state, you were glowing. He tossed a look over his shoulder at his papers, a mountain of work he suddenly did not feel like doing. then in a split-second decision, he abandoned his study and headed down the stairs, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt.

Heading into the rose garden, he hesitated at the sight of you. You were bent slightly over a flower, lifting the rose to your nose. The corners of your lips turned up slightly as the fragrance hit you. Turning slightly, you caught sight of him, and straightened, your hand sliding over your belly immediately. "Coriolanus."

"Sweetheart," he greeted, stepping closer.

You looked a little puzzled. "Did you need something?"

He felt a little dazed, unsure really why he came out here. "No...I just..." Coriolanus was now less than a foot away from you. "I wanted to see how you were."

Your expression grew slightly more surprised, but you stayed graceful. "I see."

"Yes," he said, unable to stop looking at you.

Biting your lip, you looked to the side, fingers splayed out over your belly. "I'd have thought you'd gotten enough from your reports."

He blanked. "You know about those?"

"You aren't very discreet," you said, giving a tight smile. "Besides, I know you. You're nosy."

He sniffed a laugh at that. "It's hardly being nosy when it's concern for my wife."

Silence.

Your hand fell off your belly and you moved to examine another rose, a white one. "I didn't know you cared for my wellbeing."

He followed you, tracing your steps. "You're carrying my child, sweetheart."

"Not by either of our choice," you said softly. You reached over your belly to touch one of the rose petals on the outside of the flower. "It is an obligation."

"And yet here we are," he said, picking the rose. He snapped the stem, tucking it behind your ear, his hand sliding under your chin, lifting your eyes to his. "Making the best of our situation."

Your doe eyes as you looked up at him nearly melted his heart. Coriolanus wished he could paint a portrait of you as you were right now: belly round and full of his child, one of his family roses in your hair. You looked so utterly his.

"You haven't been well sweetheart," he murmured, thumb stroking your cheek. "Even if I wasn't getting reports-"

"I'm fine. As fine as I can be," you said quietly, trying to avoid his eyes. "Growing a child is taxing, believe it or not."

"This is different." Coriolanus took your hand, which hung limply in his. "I worry about you."

"There is no need for it." You walked over to a stone bench, sitting with both your hands beside you. Your dress fell over your belly in such a way that your knees were not visible. The little detail made you all the more endearing to him.

"Darling." Coriolanus sat beside you, taking your hand once again. "I know this is hardly ideal, but I need you to try."

"What on earth do you think I have been doing?" you asked, looking up at him.

"You're fading," he said simply.

Taking in a breath, you turned slightly to face him. "I'm doing the best I can. I'm pregnant, you'll have your boy. There is nothing more to ask of me."

"Part of that obligation is taking care of yourself," he said, looking you straight in the eye.

"Am I not doing enough?" you exhaled softly. "I don't know why you're so concerned. You've ignored me for the brunt of our marriage. You do not seem to feel any affection for me. I don't see why you should care."

"You know exactly why I care," he insisted, his tone growing frustrated. "I cannot watch you wither away into nothing."

He stood up, holding out his hand. "When is the last time you ate?"

You bit your lip, casting your eyes to the side as you thought. "This morning."

It was nearly the evening. "Come. Let's find something."

"Coriolanus," you said exasperatedly.

"Sweetheart," he said earnestly back, extending his hand further. Even though he wanted to stay distant, there was a protective urge festering inside him, one he couldn't ignore like he'd done in the past.

You pursed your lips for a moment, then seemed to decide something. Taking his hand, you carefully stood up and let him lead you back up to the house.

As he found you something to eat, he thought of his earlier promise to himself not to let himself fall for you. He knew deep down that you had the potential to entrance him, make him adore you. Despite his aversion to this trait of yours, he knew he couldn't keep you at arm's length any longer. Not when your health was on the line.

Perhaps he could resist but stay close.

Your pregnancy progressed with a few things to note.

The first being that your health improved greatly. You were kept under watch, and your weight became less concerning. You found yourself feeling better, a little less tired all the time.

The second notable thing was the sudden closeness of your husband.

Since the day in the rose garden, he had become warmer towards you, more open. He took meals with you every day, diligently making sure you'd eaten enough.

One evening he summoned you to his study, surprising you.

"Is something the matter?" You stood in front of his desk, slightly worried. You'd rushed up so quickly that you hadn't put your book down, your finger still marking your place.

"Will you sit with me?" he requested, gesturing to the seat in front of him.

You tilted your head, sitting down carefully, hand over your belly. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," he said, nodding. "I just...wanted you to be close to me. Read your book."

Slowly, you nodded, leaning back in your chair. You opened your book and began to read, peering up to see that he'd begun writing again. Slightly confused but surprisingly pleased that he wanted you near, your eyes found the page again.

Shifting in your chair, you did your best to get comfortable, but it proved to be a difficult task. Your belly didn't exactly make things accommodating for you. Doing simple tasks with ease was becoming increasingly harder.

Apparently, this fact was noticeable to your husband as well. He set his pen down. "Darling?"

You looked up. "Hmm?"

Coriolanus patted his lap. "Come sit."

Tilting your head, your brow furrowed confusedly. "You want me to-?"

"You're uncomfortable," he said, leaning back in his chair, his arms open and ready for you. "Come."

Hesitantly you stood up, book in hand, and went around the desk to sit across his thighs. He secured an arm around you, a little over your belly and you leaned back against him comfortably. "Is this okay?"

"More than," he said, smiling just a little. "Stay here."

And with that, he went back to his papers, working with one hand and keeping you against him with the other. You returned to your reading, perfectly content against him.

This became a routine of sorts. You'd come shyly into his study; he'd hold out an arm for you and you'd sit on his thigh and read. You began to look forward to it, to this time you spent together. His touch was somehow comforting to you.

That was the third thing to note. How much you liked his closeness. The way he went out of his way to make sure you were comfortable, to make sure you weren't lonely.

That wasn't to say there weren't challenges.

At the first gala you attended with him since becoming pregnant, you knew it was going to be a trying affair. Coriolanus was attentive, whispering to you that he'd get you out as soon as possible.

Dressed in a white gown that accentuated your pregnancy, you knew pictures of you and Coriolanus would be splashed across every headline. Keeping that in mind, you did your best to be gracious, to smile and say the right things.

But, three hours into an event that would surely last all night, you found yourself becoming weary. You tugged at Coriolanus' arm, which you'd been glued to all night, but he didn't notice. He was speaking with a senator, engrossed in conversation.

His wife turned to you, starting to speak. "How have things been so far? With the baby?"

You smiled tightly, not upset with her, but tired. "Very well. It's been a wonderful experience."

"How lovely," she smiled, eyeing your figure. "It is a wonder to be sure. A great deal of people have thought you'd never give him a child."

You didn't quite know how to respond to that, so you merely smiled shyly.

"And you're certain it's a boy? We certainly don't need any more young girls around here," the woman laughed, oblivious to your discomfort.

"I suppose we'll see," you nodded, stifling a yawn with your hand and tugging at Coriolanus' arm again. He didn't respond.

"I suppose you aren't eating enough then," the woman noted, raising an eyebrow as she caught your yawn. "If you were you wouldn't be so tired. Or thin for that matter. I know when I was-"

"Darling," Coriolanus cut in, turning to you. "I believe it is time for us to leave." He nodded politely at the woman in front of you and escorted you out, one hand holding one of yours and the other on your back.

Once you were alone at home, you started to cry, a hand over your mouth as you let yourself break down. Your fatigue, the unsolicited advice, the comments on your appearance...it was all too much. You couldn't stand any of it.

It was just another reminder to you of how alone you were. You had no friends- the women of the Capitol were less than inviting, only speaking to you out of obligation and jealousy. And your husband...well, you weren't sure what to think of him at the moment.

Knowing you needed to move around to calm yourself down, you left your room, wandering down the hallway. You tried to keep your breathing even, a hand on your heart as you walked.

You stumbled upon the ballroom, opening the door and wandering inside. The vast emptiness of the large room made you feel small, and you marveled at the feeling. Sometimes being married to Coriolanus made everything feel more heightened. But being alone in this large room made everything feel smaller...less important. It was wonderful.

There was a piano in the corner of the room, and you meandered over to it, running your fingers along the keys. In your training as a socialite, you'd had several lessons in the instrument, but it had been a long time since you'd played.

You sat on the bench carefully, positioning your hands on the keys and beginning to play an old favorite. Muscle memory was your companion, and your fingers moved nimbly and easily. It was comforting to know that you still knew how to do it, that not everything in your past was easily forgotten.

When you looked up after you finished playing, Coriolanus was standing in the doorway. The corners of his mouth were turned up slightly, and he walked over to you. You turned slightly on the bench as he did.

Your husband knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his and bringing them to his lips. He lifted his eyes to meet yours, seeming to take you in. You were still in the same white dress you'd worn to the event. He squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry. I know tonight was hard."

Closing your eyes, you nodded, trying not to cry again. "I'm okay." Coriolanus was still looking up at you when you opened your eyes, and you gave him a small smile when you saw how sincere he was in his apology.

"Are you tired?" he asked softly, searching your eyes.

You shook your head. Somehow your fatigue had vanished somewhere in your walk through the halls.

"Okay." He nodded and stood up, helping you stand as well. "Will you come with me?"

It was a genuine question, and you nodded at it, somehow trusting him more in that moment than you ever had before.

He led you upstairs and up to a door you recognized as his room. You hesitated before going inside but ultimately decided to follow him. Coriolanus kicked off his shoes and sat you down on his bed, hands in yours. "Are you well?"

"Yes, I'm fine," you managed, looking down at your joined hands.

"Darling," he murmured.

"I just...it gets so lonely sometimes," you said softly, looking up at him.

"Oh, sweetheart," Coriolanus breathed, lifting your chin and searching your eyes. "I had no idea."

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. "It just gets to be too much sometimes."

His hand came to your face, thumb stroking your cheek. "Sweetheart." You opened your eyes. He brought his forehead to yours, the gesture surprisingly comforting. "I'm sorry. I never meant for you to feel this way."

"I feel like I'm all alone in this," you said quietly, rubbing a hand over your belly.

Coriolanus pulled you closer to him, his expression softer than you'd ever seen it. He kissed your temple. "I'm sorry darling. I know that's my fault."

"It's not. Not really," you murmured, leaning into him. "I know you didn't want this."

"That doesn't mean you should suffer for it," he kissed your forehead. Then Coriolanus took your face into his hands, and you leaned into his touch. "I want you to know how grateful I am for you."

You softened between his hands, looking up at him with doe eyes. "Grateful?"

"Grateful," he clarified, looking over you, your body and your belly. "Grateful because you have given yourself wholly to me. And you might say you didn't have a choice. But you did. And you chose to do this for me. Whatever the reason is, I am grateful for you."

You were stunned at this, your lips parting slightly. He saw you. He had seen you and he cared. A tiny smile made its way onto your face as you looked up at him. "That means a great deal."

"You deserve more than a great deal," he breathed, his hands sliding from your cheeks to your shoulders. "After everything...what you've given me..."

His voice was husky. "Nobody's ever done anything close to this much for me. You..."

"Coriolanus," you whispered, your lips ever so close to his. Months ago, you never would have allowed it, never would have gotten so close. But things were different now. The child growing inside you had changed everything.

"I'll never let you feel alone again," he breathed. "Never let you feel undervalued, unappreciated...nothing less than what you are."

"And what's that?" you asked.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "The beautiful mother of my child. A woman who is more than I deserve."

"Hardly," you looked up at him, feeling like you were seeing him for the first time. His expression was caring, his touch gentle. He seemed so different now than he was at the start of your marriage.

"Let me show you." Coriolanus muttered, hands coming back to yours, lifting them and kissing your fingers once more.

Your heart pounded, breath quickening, and you nodded. He set your hands down, moving his hand to the zip of your dress and pulling back slightly to look at you. You nodded and turned so he'd have easier access. He slid the zip down carefully and you helped him move the dress over your shoulders and down your body. It ended up as a pile of fabric beside his bed.

Gently, Coriolanus laid you back onto the bed, eyes roaming over you. He appeared entranced by you. Your skin was glowing, your body curvier, belly swollen. His lips parted. "Beautiful," he breathed, leaning down. Your lips were terribly close to his...

You took the final step and pressed your lips to his, capturing them in a kiss that started innocent but quickly became searing.

He pulled you in by the waist, pressing you against him. You knew from experience that Coriolanus' kisses were hungry, but tonight he must have been starving. The way his lips moved against yours was sinful, but you wanted it, wanted it bad.

Your hands moved of their own accord, tugging at his shirt buttons and discarding the garment once it was unbuttoned. His pants were the next to go, joining your dress and his shirt on the floor. When he kissed you, his hands wandered over your body, reaching for the clasp of your undergarment. His touch set you on fire.

When he'd gotten you completely bare and he was in the same state, he pulled back, not kissing you for a moment, just looking. You squirmed a little under his gaze, which was intense although caring. "What is it?" you questioned softly.

"Breathtaking." He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "You...carrying my child...you're very nearly a goddess."

That made the corners of your lips turn up sweetly, and you pulled him down for another kiss, his body hovering over you, careful not to put too much weight on your belly.

As you laid tangled in his sheets in the aftermath of it, your body was more wholly satisfied than it had been in a long time. You looked over at him, smiling softly and resting on your side. He reached out and rested his hand back on your cheek, stroking your soft skin. You felt a connection with him then, for the first time since your pregnancy began.

Coriolanus leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and feather light. He moved on the bed, so he was facing you. The soft light combined with what you'd just done made him look a way that pulled at your heart.

His eyes never left yours. You recognized that look. He was making sure you were comfortable, that you felt safe. Usually, you only saw that look at public events but seeing it right now after something so intimate sent a flutter through you.

"Will you stay tonight?" he murmured, one hand in your hair.

"Yes," you breathed. He opened his arms and let you snuggle close. As you drifted off, you felt one of his hands wander to your belly, caressing it gently. It was the first time he'd really touched it your entire pregnancy.

For the first time, you began to think of the baby in your belly as yours too. A baby. Your hand ran over your bump, and you smiled softly. It was both of your child. As much yours as it was his.

And you didn't mind it one bit.

He had vowed not to fall for you.

He had spent countless hours convincing himself he hadn't.

But after the night of the gala, he couldn't deny it anymore.

Every time Coriolanus looked at you, whether it be at the breakfast table when the sunlight filtered through the windows and hit your face just right, or when he looked up from his work every night when you were on his lap to see your concentrated face as you read, he felt the tendrils of feeling close around his heart.

He found himself becoming more affectionate with you. He used your pet names in an abundance, and he always felt like he needed to be touching you. You were the bright point in his life.

The last months of your pregnancy were bliss. Vesta rarely called on him, so he was free to spend all he free time with you.

Walking in the gardens, reading side by side. He'd press a kiss to your temple now and then, keeping you close, making sure you were well.

He feared childbirth for you the closer you got to it. Thoughts of his own mother, and the stories he'd heard of swam through his head and he held you a little tighter because of it.

Now he insisted you sleep in the same room as him, wanting to keep an eye on you. Sometimes he'd wake in the middle of the night and just watch you sleep, making sure your breathing was steady, wanting to be around in case you needed anything. He was paranoid you'd go into labor while he was asleep.

And of course, when you finally did, he was.

You woke him in a panic, the bedsheets soaked, telling him in hurried tones that it was time, that the baby was coming. He leapt into action immediately, sending for the doctor. The two of you had fallen asleep in your bedroom tonight, and when he tried to move you, you whimpered and shook your head, a cramp rippling through your body.

The doctor arrived, and everything was a blur after that. He never left your side, even though the sight of you in pain made him feel faint.

Before the both of you knew it, the baby was out, and you were collapsing back into the pillows, your body exhausted. Coriolanus looked over to the doctor, who was holding his new baby...

Girl.

Coriolanus stood up, his heart racing. A girl. Vesta would be furious. He was just outside the door after all, expecting the news any moment now.

He went to stand by the window as the doctor handed you the baby, gathering his thoughts. What would he tell Vesta? More importantly, what was the man going to do? His blood started to boil as he thought of Vesta hurting you in any way for this.

Looking over at you with the baby girl in your arms, close to your chest, he was filled with a sense of wonder. You'd grown his child, pushed it out of your body, and he was supposed to be upset that it wasn't a boy?

The door burst open, and Vesta revealed himself, looking over the scene. You rushed to cover yourself, and Coriolanus moved to your side, making sure you had some privacy.

"For heaven's sake Vesta," he said protectively. "You couldn't have allowed us ten minutes?"

"Not when the bloodline is at stake, my boy," Vesta said, grinning. "So, your son?"

"Not a son," you spoke up, cradling the baby close to you. You smiled down at your daughter, who was fast asleep.

The man's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what she said, Vesta," Coriolanus said in quiet tones. "Not a son. A daughter."

Vesta's face grew cold. "This is unacceptable. A daughter isn't good for the family."

"And yet," Coriolanus folded his arms, still standing in front of you.

"She will have to be hidden away. We'll tell the public the baby was stillborn," Vesta moved forward, as if to take the child from you.

You shook your head, holding the baby tight to your chest. "No, no don't."

"To have a firstborn daughter isn't good for your image," Vesta reached out for the baby. "Your wife is clearly defective in some way. We'll have the child taken away. Given to another Capitol family."

"No," you cried out, looking fearfully up at Coriolanus. You looked so scared, and the surge of protectiveness that shot through him was amplified with what you said next. "Coriolanus, don't let him take her."

As Vesta moved toward you, Coriolanus stood in his path. "You won't be taking our daughter."

Vesta's face grew sterner still. "I beg your pardon?"

Coriolanus was unmoving. "A son will come eventually. But in the meantime, our daughter will be claimed as ours."

"Your image-" Vesta started.

"Will not be ruined by a child," he cut him off. Coriolanus took a step toward Vesta, his frame tall and intimidating. "Since I enlisted your help in my career, you have been rude, demanding, and disrespectful, especially toward my wife." He glanced back at you. Your eyes were wide as you held the baby.

"If I ever see you insult my wife again," Coriolanus started, his voice quiet but deadly. "Even if I hear of it, I will not hesitate to make you disappear. You see, since last year, my resources have grown exceptionally. I suppose I have you to thank for that."

Vesta was silent, looking shocked at his words.

"Now get out before I have you escorted," Coriolanus pointed at the door. "Out."

Vesta huffed, straightening his suit. "If your career collapses, you'll only have yourself to blame." He cast a dirty look at you. "Well, I suppose not only you."

And with that, the older man left.

Coriolanus stood there seething for a moment. He had half a mind to run to his study and call the right people to have Vesta taken out right now. But he controlled himself. Later, he thought.

For now, he turned to you, kneeling beside the bed and pushing sweaty strands out of your face. "I'm sorry sweetheart."

"You stood up for me," you said, smiling softly as you looked up at him. You looked down at the baby. "You didn't let him take her."

"How could I?" Coriolanus murmured, leaning in and nudging his nose with yours, which made you smile again. "How could I when I..." he swallowed. "When I love you too much to let that happen."

Your eyes widened a bit, your smile sweeter. "You love me?"

"I think I've loved you ever since I've known you," he said, the adrenaline from the interaction with Vesta seeming to give him courage. "And after this..." he reached down to the baby, stroking her soft little cheek with his finger. "I can't keep it in anymore."

You watched as he sat on the bed next to you, encircling you and the baby in his arms, pushing a kiss to your hair. He smiled, a real smile he always found himself wearing around you.

"I didn't think I'd be able to love you when I married you," you said quietly, looking up at him. "But somehow I do."

He lifted your chin, kissing you briefly. "You love me?" He'd repeated your words, which made you smile.

"I love you," you confirmed, looking into his eyes. You looked so tired, but happy. He'd never understood before how one could feel happy because of someone else's joy, but now he did.

He kissed you again, wrapping his arms tightly around you and the baby, around his little family.

The sun rose that morning, the dawn of a new day, but also a new life for him. He now truly had his wife and his daughter, both so loved.

And he was loved too.

come talk about coryo here!

[scuderiasundays]

better together

summary: airline lounges, box box widgets, and a cheesy greeting card 💌

words: 1,045

a/n: the romcom girlie in me has always wanted to write a meet-cute and i've been listening to too much lizzy mcalpine! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @ssainzz, @diorleclerc, and @userlando just because. let me know if you'd want a part two! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

Love comes when you least expect it. Those same old words had fallen from the lips of every person you knew, so much so that they now felt weightless. On this particular evening, you found yourself at your best friend’s wedding reception, zoning out at the open bar. You nodded along as some man who’d had one too many G&T’s rambled on about his meet-cute on the Paris metro. Seeing two people you adored make a lifelong commitment only reaffirmed the fact that you craved the same.

It was no secret you weren’t exactly the MVP of the single scene. On any given night out, you’d leave the club before midnight to get a full eight-hour snooze. Dating apps were a no-no, as reruns of Catfish had made you skeptical about “finding the one” online. At work, you kept a low profile, socializing just enough to have a tight circle of work friends. It was as if you were coasting on autopilot, wanting love but hesitant to steer towards it.

Not to say that being single was all bad. Every hard-earned dollar was invested right back into the things you loved: trips, clothes, and your dog Cannoli. You silently weighed the pros and cons of your lifestyle as you stepped into the airline lounge.

Setting down your latest read to save your seat, you made your way to the breakfast buffet and grabbed a plate of avocado toast, poached eggs, and a glass of orange juice. On your way back, you spotted someone in a hoodie and cap making themselves at home in the armchair opposite yours.

The whole lounge was virtually empty, and this just had to be his seat of choice? You slowly approached from behind and let out a quiet gasp as you noticed them flipping through your book. “Love languages, huh?” The man pointed at the cover and smiled.

Your pupils dilated twice their size as you registered just who it was. The fan-made bracelets, the Leica, and, most of all, the signature McLaren cap—it all fell into place. “My manager and I just got into a huge argument, and honestly, I’d rather be anywhere but with him right now. Do you mind if I-" He gestured towards the seat beside you, his eyes radiating a silent plea.

“No problem. Let me give you your space,” you responded, hastily gathering your things. Just as you were about to step away, his hand gently clasped your wrist. “I could use the company. I’m Bob, by the way,” he mumbled, oblivious to the fact that his cover was blown.

As in, you knew he was currently seventh place in the driver’s championship and slowly but surely climbing up the standings. The last thing he needed was for you to bring any of that up, so you did as he said, trying to give him a sense of normalcy he so deserved.

He headed to the breakfast buffet and returned with the very items you had selected. "Copying me?" you teased. “First step in getting to know you,” he grinned. Curious about your life, he asked about your job in the emergency room. You told him the hours were grueling but watching extremely sick patients leave healthy made it all worthwhile. "Hope I never end up being your patient," he joked.

His interest didn't stop there; he inquired about siblings (only child), your dream vacation destination (Antibes), and whether you were a dog or cat person (not even a question). You, being a proud dog mom, wanted to show your furry guy off and handed Lando your phone.

As he squinted at your phone, you heard him say, "7 days to go. United States Grand Prix." A wave of panic washed over you as you remembered the Box Box widget that also occupied your screen. The silence was deafening as you wished the ground would swallow you up. 

“Let me see the app,” He said. You normally wouldn’t have acquiesced so quickly, but you crumbled and unlocked your phone. He appeared to scroll and click a few things before he handed it back. “Widget Preferences. Constructor: McLaren? Driver: Lando Norris?” You asked as you noticed he’d made some selections.

“You hadn’t bothered with the preferences, so I took the liberty of choosing.” He blushed as the awkwardness of it all hung in the air. “That doesn’t feel fair. I’ve had all this time to get to know you, and I can’t say the same for the other drivers.” You teasingly retorted.

“I'll let the guys know they're in a tight race for your heart." He snickered. The man was on the verge of tears when his manager came by to remind him of his impending flight. “Flight’s in an hour, Lando,” snapped him right back to reality.

He entrusted you with his bags as he ran out to run a quick pre-flight errand. You couldn’t help but squeal the second Lando had vanished from view. What kind of magic was in the air at this airport and could it be bottled?

You tapped through your best friend’s Instagram stories as you awaited his return. The nearly empty lounge echoed as Lando asked a nearby gentleman for a pen and jotted something down. Breathless, he handed you a card, urging you to read it later.

"Your shoelace is untied," he mentioned, and as he bent down to tie it, his blue-green eyes met yours. 

The British racing driver left your life in the abrupt way he had entered it. You took in the card, decked out with drawings of mac and cheese, milk and cereal, and avocado and toast, captioned "Better Together" at the bottom.

It was the only card in the store, but it felt just right. You highlighted “words of affirmation” as your love language, so I thought I’d give this a go. Thanks for keeping me company. Talk soon? - LN 

His number was scribbled at the end. You quickly changed your lock screen widget to showcase his stats and took a screenshot to send his way.

New look. I might be biased, but I think you just became my favorite driver. Let's see if you can keep it up.

He replied right away.

I like the sound of that. When can I see you again?

[mint-8]

Platonic Yandere Doctor

Content/Trigger warning: Mentions of suicide, death and drug abuse.

You have a weak immune system, or perhaps you are simply very clumsy, either way you and your family are very accustomed to going to the hospital and having to pay a lot of bills. Thankfully your parents can afford it, but it used to be necessary for your small family to move around a lot due to your guardian’s professions, however as of lately your family has finally found their ideal home and settled down in a nice suburban area with great clinics all around. It’s now time to find you a new permanent doctor!

- Yandere Doctor who has studied in the best schools in the country and has worked in huge hospitals in all the major cities but who, after so many years of never ending grind, decided to open their very own clinic in one of the wealthiest areas of the state. Some might say to give back to society in a smaller manner, others would argue is a retirement of sorts after so much time spent stressing in high end medical cases. But nobody knows they have grown tired of it all.

- Yandere Doctor was born in poverty and desperately wished for the wealth and respect they lacked in their formative years. They saw how the elite would rule the world and the way they lived, so they made it their life goal to become part of them, to become someone worthy of everyone’s admiration and adoration. They studied hard for many years, investing grueling hours during their intern years and spent every waking moment they ever had to develop themselves as the best doctor that they could ever be. And yet, it left them with nothing. They memorized every book, every illness and know to heart their exact requirements to be cured, and it still left them empty.

- Yandere Doctor who thought that perhaps it was the stress of the hospital. Yes, it must be that! It isn’t allowing them to reach their full potential! And how could a small clinical in a suburban area help with that? They don’t know for sure. Maybe they are lying to themselves, to have some sort of hope that this will be different, so they won’t have to jump off the highest floor of their hospital. A small clinic wouldn’t be as tall, so they would only break their legs at most.

- Yandere Doctor who opened their small clinic to great fanfare. Newspaper and media outlets gave them a lot of free publicity and many famous personalities started to moved to the neighborhood so they could be treat by the smartest doctor of their era! (The words of the newspapers, not theirs).

- Yandere Doctor who couldn’t describe the feeling that swept through them like a tsunami to a small beach when they met their very first patient, you. Little, innocent and sickly you who came to their clinic in hopes that they could cure the cold that has been bugging you for weeks already.

- Yandere Doctor who prescribes the best medicines and even offers that you stay in the clinic for a couple nights in order to monitor your progress. Who cares about the other patients? They don’t want your symptoms to get worse sweetheart, your doctor will personally make sure your stay it’s as pleasant as possible. Only the best bedding, and the best food. Oh, and your parents can only visit for 20 minutes. For their health, of course. Nothing else.

- Yandere Doctor who looks forward to your weekly visits and checkups! They know they shouldn’t wish for their gavorite patient to get sick so often that they have to come by every day, but they can’t help themselves! Oh, and you definitely get special treatment as well. Being placed first in any waiting list, given priority at all times, and your doctor will gladly make your visits as accommodating as they possibly can!

- Yandere Doctor who has never felt like this before! They suddenly have a desperate need to protect and care for the weak you. They have finally realized what their colleagues meant when they would talk about that… gratifying feeling whenever they would save a patient’s life or cure their illness! They just weren’t supposed to be this obsessed, though…

- Yandere Doctor who becomes your permanent doctor for… everything! Whether it’s surgery or a broken bone, they will make sure to erase your pain as swiftly as possible! Your parents might whine about the costs or whatever, but your doctor knows exactly how to deal with them! They have worked for some dangerous people, so it’s simply a matter of cashing in some favors, making a few phone calls, and boom! Your parents are off the picture! Now, now, there’s no need to cry. Your doctor can become your legal guardian for the time being until they are found! (If they can even find them)

- Yandere Doctor who thrives as your main caretaker! They have finally found their purpose in life! No more will they stay awake in the night for hours questioning their existence. No longer will they have mental breakdowns in their house or in a utility closet after a shift. And no longer will they be tempted to mix those pills with their vast collection of alcohol. They don’t have time for that, they must take care of you now!

- Yandere Doctor who keeps you locked up in their abode and who will only let you leave for the necessary amount of sunlight and exercise required so your health won’t plummet. They will get the best nutritionists and medicines so your state will continue to be stable. And, they will let you attend school as well. But the moment they see that your mental health is getting worse (I mean, of course, it would be bad, your parents are dead) they are taking you off there and straight up to online schooling!

“Don’t you worry darling. I’ll take of everything. Just eat your greens and drink your water, ok? I only want you to be happy :)”

[eamour]

the void craze

as many of you already might now, the "void" state, also called the "i am" state, is a method coined by neville goddard which became popular and famous for its rather unique way of manifesting your desires. just like with every method being put on a pedestal, there are a hand full of problems that come along with it. with this post, i want to help you gain clarity but also consciousness (no pun intended) about your outlook on this method.

problems of obsessing over a state

disregarding your outer reality. you have responsibilities and things to look after in the physical world that — even if you can change and get rid of them — need your attention. you exist in both, 4D and 3D. as long as you are aware of yourself physically, you need to care for yourself.

disregarding your inner reality. by constantly being in a state of waiting and wanting, you keep desiring. you keep occupying a state of mind and refuse to change it — in other words, change your "i am" — and will remain in that state assuming you don't "enter" the void state.

dismissing your feelings and emotions. this point is less about you desiring something but more about your emotional well being. by not fulfilling yourself from within, you are enslaved to your senses and will continue to upset yourself with the 3D, starting to bottle up your emotions.

becoming indifferent to your surroundings. you might start to disregard everything around you and force yourself not to negatively react or acknowledge the outer world.

developing unhealthy habits. some people are likely to isolate themselves, some begin to spend an unhealthy amount of time on the internet (specifically apps like tumblr or youtube), some ruin their sleep schedules to attempt once they are truly sleepy, and so on.

overconsuming information. with people spending a significant amount of time online, it enables the possibility of people taking in more information than they actually need (also causing people to doubt or double-check their knowledge).

overcomplicating the method. now, entering the void is easy. all you do is "enter" a specific state of mind, something you do all the time with many many different states all day long. but people love to think that it's different with the void as it's such an "important" state to occupy (which it is not).

refusing to change from within. as you rely on one method to change your life entirely, you are not willing to take the lead and to "manifest the usual way". you don't want to try any other method, nor make an effort to try something else.

focusing solely on the void. you are convinced that the void will be your saviour and fix all of your problems immediately which is why you see no point in manifesting another way. you are certain that the void is the only way to shift your reality easily, quickly and effortlessly.

trusting only the void. it's easy to give up all efforts to manifest your desires with other methods when you feel that manifesting without the void seems too difficult, hard or too exhausting.

mistrusting other methods. you might also feel like other methods don't work as "good" or "efficiently" as the void method.

putting your life on hold. while many people try to attempt to "enter the void" aka "become pure consciousness" at night or once they get into a sleepy, drowsy state, they tend to fail to care about their lives for several hours throughout the day. they dismiss improving their lives, start losing hope and stop to invest in themselves, as they see no point in "trying" to change anything. they believe that achieving change will only be worth it or purposeful once they do it via the void state.

conditioning your desires. waiting for the best moment to attempt, meaning once you are tired, doesn't mean to condition your desires. it's thinking that you can only attempt around that time that makes you condition your desires.

discrediting your power. since the void is known to change lives drastically, some lean towards ascribing more power to this method compared to themselves.

believing in an external power. some even believe the void is a place that exists outside of them rather than viewing the void as a state of reaching pure consciousness.

doubting your abilities. you can draw this conclusion once you begin to think that a state of mind has more power over you than the person that has the ability to choose and to occupy any state of mind they wish to.

burning out. if you have "failed" to identify with that state of mind, you are very likely to develop beliefs implying things such as being unable to manifest, being out of control and overall giving up on yourself.

advice

i didn't make this post for the solely purpose to scare you off and to persuade you not to try the void method at all. i made this post for you to understand the many many unnecessary thoughts all around this method. these are things that people do or think once they start to make their happiness depend on a method, a state that they are infinitely greater than.

i want to encourage you to try out any method that you are interested in and determined to master. do as you please, regardless of the opinions of other people. but always keep in mind: it's nothing you can't achieve. and remember, just like neville said, the conceiver is ever greater than his conception — meaning, you will always and forever be more powerful than any state of mind you could possibly think of.

with love, ella.

[thehighpriestexx420]

Their True Self's Feelings VS. Their Ego's Feelings About You

General Collective Pick-A-Gif Tarot Reading

Our True Self is the version of us WITHOUT the programming society has instilled in us and/or the programming our physical body came with. It's your soul, your spirit, your higher self. My experience with my true self can only be described as what feels right.

The Ego can be used as a tool for your true self to use or you can fall under the automatic habits it provides. It's our mind. The brain filter that allows us to perceive reality - more commonly the reality that's physical.

My intention was to pull cards into 2 columns. One to represent their true feelings and the other to represent their ego's. I've found that the message worked when I looked at all of the cards together. If you can discern the cards can be read the way I intended with your specific situation, feel free to let me know!

Take a moment to yourself. Step back from any distractions on the outside & within your mind. Take a clearing breath. Focus your attention within yourself & what you sense. Which gif calls out to you? If it's more than one, than there are multiple messages for you.

Take what resonates and leave the rest. Be aware that the future is malleable - you can choose to follow your true self or any toxic programming you've picked up. The results will follow.

💖 New followers & those who reblog the linked post below 👇 get a FREE one question tarot reading & reiki healing session. Paid services are same hour, first come first serve, & guaranteed between 8 am - 9pm 💖

✌️ Tips are also always appreciated! Help me continue helping you by providing me with funds to purchase new decks & stuff that keeps me alive 😊 Cashapp: $coltonicholas ✌️

Pile One :

Their soul is calling them to approach you & express their romantic interest. However, there's something that happened between you that's caused them to stop & truly think about this decision.

They're trying to discern how they can balance their self-love & their love for others. They don't want to get hurt again but they also don't want to miss out on their desired connection with you.

The Universe is telling them the time to approach you is now & that they're extremely supported in this. In fact, this is a part of both of your life's purpose. It's destiny. Every aspect of existence is weaving the path to make this happen.

But they're currently being held back and stalling due to doubt & the fear of hoping just to be hurt & disappointed again. As in, they feel this desire of theirs is too good to be true. Their non-action is out of fear & self-preservation.

Pile Two :

They're not seeing the results they're looking for in this connection. There's impatience. They're looking for answers outside themself rather than within.

You may be dating & haven't made things official yet. They're questioning if you're as invested in this connection as they are because of this. They could be feeling the strong desire to marry you, and yet, aren't seeing these results.

They may be overly focused on the material/physical & not enough on what their soul is saying. They want a successful home life with you while not feeling at home within themself. They cope with this feeling by indulging in distractions. Propping their ego up, shopping, bragging, etc.

They need to be more calm, nurturing, & patient. They feel the need to rush ahead while not considering others enough.

They're overly concerned with others' opinions. They want to be able to say that you're theirs & not fear people questioning the validity of your connection. It's the vibe where people have been in years long engagements. There's often doubt from others and within the connection. "Are they not sure if they want to get married, is it going to happen, etc."

Pile Three :

They're being held back by confusion, the pressure to conform, & structure. It's like they're lost in a land of illusion. They're unable to move on due to this belief they must uphold these rigid rules.

"If it's not broke, don't fix it" is a saying that comes to mind when describing this person's mindset.

They don't want to adventure outside of these old habitual ways of thinking. The unknown is unstable & unpredictable.

Despite this, their soul is desiring a union with you & they feel it - the urge to reach out. Their ego is blocking them from seeing a way forward with you.

For some of you, they want to propose but something is leading them to believe it's not possible. There's a clashing - 2 opposing forces that "shouldn't" go together. So this can look like having a religion where you're "supposed" to be with a member of the same religion, a family disapproving of same sex marriage, or some other value/belief that doesn't approve of your marriage/union.

They've had unhealthy examples of relationships growing up so this also distorts how relationships are "supposed" to look like to them. There's some kind of codependency between you two. Like you're both chained to these toxic belief systems. Change your mentor/who you look up to & set yourself free.

Pile Four :

There's this idea - this hidden gem in their heart. I'm seeing that they need some time away from the distractions of the world so that they can look inside themselves to see what this bright, burning, blossoming passion really is before they offer it to you.

They're scared of things not working out because they haven't seen any indicators it would. Their heart is closed off & as a consequence it blocks them from receiving what they desire. That includes the positive interactions from you that they're looking for.

But I'm seeing that this beginning between you is bright, beautiful, & promising. You both can try to hide what you're feeling, but it's too powerful to be ignored anyway.

I'm seeing that you both share a heart/the same feelings. This connection is within your core. It's designed to free you, reveal your true self, heal you, & to assist you with growth. For some of you, this is your divine counterpart/twin flame. For others, it's a strong soulmate connection.

[waynewifey]

dear mr. wayne — b.w

part one: dear mr. wayne

part two: aftermath

part three: aporia

epilogue

summary: it’s not easy being a politician’s wife. it’s even harder to love a vigilante. months of negligence make you an easy target to his enemies.

pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader

genre: angst romance & dark action

warnings: swearing; smoking; kidnapping; violence; a bit of gore; “you” is she/her; bruce is the worst husband ever btw

word count: 2.8k

A/N: i wrote this back in january 2022 when the batman movie had just premiered, so kinda off the hype here. i hope you enjoy it anyway. already working on part 2, let me know if you guys would like it! also, this has taken a path way darker than i had in mind so i’m sorry if it’s too much. comments are appreciated!

gotham city, USA.

it's late.

you have no clock nearby, but you feel it in your bones. in your muscles too. it's too late and bruce should be home already. laying in the sofa, only half conscious, you regret telling alfred to go to bed. at least you wouldn't be alone. of course, being married to the batman you knew he would patrol at night often. you were okay with it. but lately bruce had been too focused on his other, and recent, goal: running for mayor. at first it seemed out of character, he was never good with the public or the press. but he stared at thomas wayne's painting in the hall in such painful façade, it made sense all off sudden. you were supportive of it. you showed up to every event just to stay by his side, to show the people the lovable man he was. the man you loved. the man who couldn't even be home for dinner.

the penthouse's elevator dings, opening its doors at the end of the hallway you see perfectly from your seat. your head doesn't lift instantly, like in the first week. instead, a long sigh escapes from your lips as bruce reaches the living room.

"hello, darling." he says, still in motion as he walks the stairway up to the room you shared. not a single kiss, or a hug. you follow him, because what else is there to do? you need to go to bed anyway. by the time you get there, slowly, his suit is already on the floor and he's taking a shower.

"how was the meeting?" you ask, knowing he usually did his Wayne Enterprising meetings — which consisted of hanging out long hours in bars with business men — at night. recently, he started a complicated relationship with a real estate company he wanted to invest in.

"the usual." he stopped fully answering these questions three weeks ago, making the only time you ever talked even shorter. the city has gotten more violent than ever since his batman duties were put on standby.

"any closer to sealing the deal?" you sit on the bed, watching the open bathroom door.

"probably." it's not like he's being rude. well, maybe a little bit. he just doesn't want to talk any more, it's clear on his tone. but it's 2am and you brain isn't working too well.

"when is this gonna end, bruce?" you finally say, as he puts his boxers on. "when are we ever having dinner again? or going on a date? when are you gonna stop treating me like i'm some sort of home decor?" you almost vomit out the words that have been stuck on your throat for days. surprisingly, the heartache doesn't softens. instead, it gets worse. it's like admitting your abandonment.

six months ago, you started trying to get pregnant. it hadn't always been a dream of yours, but the idea of having an heir to all you've spent your life building is charming. you realised you were in the right time to do so, you had just turned 28, bruce was 32, and both had stable careers. a month later, bruce announced his candidacy. and so soon you gave up. you told yourself once he won the election everything would be fine. you would try again. but, realistically, being a mayor was already a lot of work on itself. he wouldn't want a pregnant wife or a child to take care of. after the four years, who knows? he might as well have a new life project. and your family would always stand on the side.

"i don't know what you're talking about..." he doesn't look into your eyes. hell, he barely looks at you. that feeling, the negligence, is enough to trigger the tears. you take a deep breath, making an effort to look composed.

"don't you, though?" your voice is shaken. look at me. look at me. look at me. look at me. he doesn't. "bruce." you call, finally getting his attention. however, the boredom on his face knocks you off your feet, legs trembling in pain and anger. "i just want you to make an effort on us..."

"really? cause that's all i ever done." he's leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed in a way you would find attractive in other circumstances. but now he's yelling and you fight back the urge to shrink into the mattress. "do you think i wanna have a kid on this fucked up town? i'm tryna fix this. fix everything!" his faces turns red-ish. something inside of you makes you want to leave the room. you've always been an avoider, that is one of the reasons you hadn't really had couple fights. so, basically, this is very new. "i've got the weight of the fucking world on my back."

"let's leave then" you manage to say, replacing the you chose this. it was true, however, that he was the one to put himself in this position. bruce wayne could've gotten his entire life without working if he wanted to. but he always needed to save everyone, to suffer for other's happiness. he was a giver. sometimes you wondered if he needed to be saved instead.

"you know i can't do that." he mumbles, in a defeated tone. a sigh escapes from his lips, suddenly the tiredness takes over his face. it's almost enough to make you let it go, to internalise your distress again. he really can't, you know that. he feels that the city is his liability, because it was the only thing he had since he became an orphan. but he had you, too. he just didn't acknowledge that.

"and i can't stay like this." it sounds like an whisper, but it's a plead. choose me. please. he seems to read it in your eyes, face contorting in agony when he realises what you're asking for. me or gotham? it's stupid to think he would ever choose you. but you hoped, so desperately, because you would choose him. always.

"let's not do this tonight, okay? i have to be in the office by the morning." tears instantly fall as he turns off the lights and lays on the bed, turning his back to where you slept. for a moment, you're static. his words were final. were you ever in control of something in your life? why were all of these decisions being made for you? mechanically, you stand on both feet and walk to the door. you don't even notice your movement until you're on the elevator. your husband didn't intervene either. this neighbourhood is one of the safest in town, which honestly isn't much but you had to get out. anyway, nowhere is totally safe at 3am.

you walk two blocks, clinging to the fluffy sweater you wore. the depressing air of gotham slows your pace, to a point you start wondering if it was really necessary to be aware. you could feel the city devouring you, starting with your hope. the blue 24h sign lights up the street, in a way that isn't welcoming, but you know the place well enough to not be scared to get in. a bell sounds over the door and wakes up the male behind the counter. he's got long black hair and seems to haven't seen a good night of sleep in weeks. same,you think.

"hi. can i get the blue one?" you point at the camel's behind the man. he nods, quickly putting a pack on the wooden board. the prices pops up on the cashier's display. you pay and go outside. smoking was an bad habit from your college days, when pressure got too excruciating. every now and then you would treat yourself to some cigarettes, for the confidence it gave you. the sense of control to be the one, for once, ruining yourself. the smoke burns your throat on the first inhale and you hold back a cough. you're too entertained by the cigar to notice the black van approaching. it stops right in front of you, and everything happens too quickly for your brain to process. it's all dark.

he's in a meeting, the boring kind.

the kind that has him seated in silence while a representative talks to his employees, who never get to listen to their actual boss. there's a chart being shown on a large tv on the other side of the room. he's not listening, though. he's writing down ideas for a thanksgiving speech. a head pops into the conference room.

"mr. wayne." it's one of the new assistants, hired especially for the election season. he didn't care to memorise her name, because temps usually don't last long. if she hadn't called him, he might've not even looked up. but the room is silent, expecting eyes on him. the girl at the door looks terrified. "you're urgently required outside, please."

he sighs as he gets up from his leather chair. the second the door closed behind him, chatter is heard again. in the corridor, the woman conducts him to his office and they get in. there's a bit of a commotion, four men lounge around his table, all their faces tense.

"mr. wayne, i'm afraid we don't have good news." the head of the marketing team speaks, a man called robert vance. he's probably said the same phrase to bruce about seven times this month, so that doesn't do much. the assistant approaches with an ipad, unpausing a video. "we received this from an anonymous email about forty minutes ago. we weren't able to get the ip address just yet."

the video starts with a black screen, zooming out to show a woman with a bag over her head. she has her hands on her back and is kneeling on the ground. bruce's heart skips a beat noticing the hair falling down her shoulders.

"bruce wayne..." an eerie voice whispers from behind the camera, breathing heavily. "i've robbed an egg from your basket, and you haven't even noticed!" there's a disturbing chuckle and the video shakes a bit. bruce doesn't move, eyes stuck on the screen. no one in the room has done anything other than breathing. someone gulps. "it's been long hours, but we're having fun, aren't we, darling?" a gloved hand reaches for the bag, pulling it out. her face - your face - is dripping blood. you're biting on a fabric, still in your home clothes. bruce's jaw clenches. you're crying, face beaten, in this degrading situation. your eyes pierce the screen right into his. suddenly, a gun is tapped on your forehead and you close your eyes into a sob. your lips mouth please. "i'm running out of patience here, you're running out of time. let's do business, shall we?" he laughs, knocking the pistol on the side of your head, making you fall laying on the floor, unconscious. the spot bleeds. "here's my proposal: you come clean about your father's deal with carmine falcone and maybe i don't shoot little mrs. wayne... or i do both. it's your choice, really. the clock is ticking. tick tock, wayne."

the video stops, the sight of a gun pointed at your unresponsive body burns into his mind. bruce is panting, the adrenaline rushes into his brain. there's a million of plans being built, but none of them seem viable.

"don't let media get this." he managed to say. one of the men in suits says it's too late. the tv flicks on showing a news report on the video. he kicks the side of his table, the contents being thrown across the room. "FUCK! you bastards wait forty fucking minutes to show me this?" he screams, no one can look him in the eyes. a hand runs through his black hair. "meanwhile my wife is out there with a gun on her head! and what have you done? i swear to god, if i don't find her alive and well i'm killing everyone in this goddamned room with my bare hands."

he storms out of there, reaching to his phone to call alfred and noticing the multiple missed calls. fucking silent mode. the sun is setting.

"i got the address." the butler says, instead of hello. a 'ding' sounds in his ear.

there has been pain for so long. you try to remember before the pain. but all is pain. he has to make it stop.

the floor is cold cement and you feel so small in this huge warehouse. the man in the mask knows you can't run. not only you're tied up, but the will had left you long before getting dragged into that van. he sees it in your eyes. so he strolls around, always in that ridiculous dark green overall. then he beats you up for fun. no cameras. just you and the devil himself. you find yourself praying, after all these years. you don't pray to get out, no. you pray so that it ends soon. you pray that the stab wound in your abdomen will get you an infection. you pray that when you close your eyes, you never have to open them again. but the divine has left you in the cold cement.

there's an explosion. your eyes open. there's smoke and dust taking over one of the walls. you're seeing everything horizontally, cheek on the floor. the man in green is just as scared as you were.

bruce wayne busted that fucking wall down. he expected a full team of psychopaths and maybe some more security. there was just one coward in the warehouse. the thing stares at him coming out of the smoke, fingers fidgeting. the batman steps forward. the freak steps back. then turns around, runs to a half broken wardrobe and grabs a gun from it. bruce walks slowly. there's a struggle loading the gun. he takes the opportunity to run and throw the thing on the floor. he bangs his head on it. the vermin screams. he takes one punch. two. tries to reach for the fallen gun. bruce steps on his hand and the loud crack echoes in the room. he screams again. three punches. the mask is taken off. his nose is bleeding. more punches. he holds the neck. the head is turning purple. oh how he wants to kill this little shit. bruce wayne will kill him. it will just take a few more seconds...

"baby, no" at first he thinks he's imagining it. it's so soft, so weak. but he looks up and there she is. his hands loose. right on the corner, chains on her legs. her face is ruined from blood and dirt. her wrists bleed too. the motherfucker chained her. hell is too good for this thing.

bang. on his shoulder. he looks down and the blood is dripping on the freak's face. he’s pushed to the side, holding the wound. tiny white dots obstruct his vision. he grunts through the pain. the man gets up and runs towards you. bruce can’t move. he arches his back, trying to roll and lay on his chest. it feels like he can’t move his arm anymore, like his bones had detached. when he finally does so, the man is escaping through a window. his hand searches for the adrenaline-boost in his belt, grabs it and quickly injects on his leg. it takes a second to get his blood rushing again. he crawls up and jumps through the window, which leads him to a metal balcony.

you’re almost standing, but he holds your chains and a gun to your face. the shooting sound had scared you awake. you can’t believe how close to bruce you finally are, but the conditions couldn’t be worse. you can hear water running below your feet, you don’t need daylight to show you the violent river you’re standing above. this is not good.

bruce has his hands up in the air and is holding himself back to not do anything stupid. the man’s face is contorting into the creepiest smile. no.

everything happens so slowly, yet he’s not quick enough to grab you in time. you’re falling in the air and he jumped after you. for a moment, the world is air. you can’t hold out your hand. your hair is flying in your face, he does not want to die without seeing you one last time. his cape holds him back and the distance between you only increases. you’re gone. the impact comes.

part two

[floralpascal]

Something To Live For

Summary: A quiet morning with you shows Ghost the possibility of the life he could have with you - a life he never thought would be his.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 649

Rating: Mature (Series is 18+ only though, mdni!)

Warnings: talk of death, secret relationship, Ghost finally experiencing happiness

A/N: This man deserves some happiness, so here it is. While I love to write Ghost agonizing over his feelings, exploring how he is when he fully embraces them is my absolute favorite

Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist

There were a lot of things Ghost thought he would never have. 

And you? You were every single one of them. 

For so long, all that existed in Ghost’s life was the brutal reality of war. He gave almost every second of his time to his job. There wasn’t room for someone else in the picture. He barely had the time or the trust to invest in someone unknown. Even if someone gained his trust and was willing to put up with him being gone most of the time, it was too dangerous for them. The people in Ghost’s life always seemed to be put in the line of fire because of him. It was easier to avoid it altogether. 

Besides, he wasn’t delusional. He knew that his chances of surviving to old age in this line of business were slim-to-none. Hell, he was lucky to have even made it this far. His life was on borrowed time. For as grim as it was, he had made peace with that. 

Examining the way the pale golden light of the morning spilled across your features, Simon ran a finger down your spine. You slept like this often now, your body laying on top of his with your warm cheek pressed to his broad shoulder, your arms wrapped around his middle as if you were afraid he would slip away from you. In this position, he could feel the rhythm of your breath carrying his anxieties away with the rise and fall of your chest. Your face was always so soft as you slept against him, the weight of the life you both lived lifted in this state. 

Like this, with your warm bare skin pressed to his and your legs woven together, Simon could hardly tell where he ended and you began. To be honest, he loved the feeling. The world was no longer simply filled with threats and danger, it was filled with the warm and soft embrace of safety.

In a couple hours, he would get up and make you breakfast. He would sit with you at your table as you ate, admiring the rare carefree slump of your shoulders as you leaned your arms against the wooden surface. He would hide a smile behind his morning tea as you contemplated your schedule for the day. He would wrap his arms around you on the couch, listening to the light ring of your laugh at some dumb joke he made about the show you were watching.

Every moment was a glimpse of the life he could have one day. They were glimpses of a life with you, away from all the violence and death. A carefree life. A loving life. 

In the past, he never let himself even consider having something like this. It was unthinkable - something meant for a man who led a much different life than Ghost did. 

Yet, here he laid in your bedroom in your house for the millionth time, his mask long forgotten on your bedroom floor. He didn’t need it here. Not with you. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t even want it. For the first time in a long time, he was just Simon. Your Simon. 

That was something to live for. This - a lazy morning in your bed with you, without a care for the chaos of the outside world - was something to live for. 

Ghosting the tip of his thumb along the soft skin of your back, he made a silent promise to you: he would live. The life he thought he would never have? He would live to have it with you. He would fight for it, claw his way back from the grave if he had to. Whatever he had to do to keep you safe in his arms, he would do it.

Because you were the best thing to live for.

[marveloustimestwo]

Hi cutie pie! Congratulations on your 700 followers! 🥳

Can I request Strength and The Magician with Steve Rogers and Peter Parker, separately?

Strength - How outwardly passionate is this yandere around their darling?

Steve keeps a lot of his worse qualities pretty contained. He really only ever wants you to see him as someone you're safe with, someone who's good and kind and worthy of falling in love with. While he is undoubtedly obsessed with you, you'll rarely see the bad parts it brings out of him.

For the most part, to you, he'll be a normal, loving partner. The only thing that could've been an indicator was that he moved a bit fast. He would've known you a few months before asking you out, and then within the span of a few more months, he was telling you he loved you and asking you to move in with him. You might just write it off as him being from a different time, and while that might be partially true, Steve knew that he loved you before he even asked you out.

The Magician - How would this yandere use their abilities/status on their darling?

Steve has no issue using his powers and status as Captain America to his advantage, at least when it comes to his darling. For the most part, it is a last resort. He wants to make you fall in love with him the old-fashioned way; he wants you to be willing in this relationship. In a way, he views you as his retirement, as someone to spend the rest of his already long life with. When you are willing, he'll only use his status as a way to get a nice house in the country where you two won't be bothered ever again.

If you're ever a bit hesitant, he might use a bit of guilt-tripping. He'll slip his past into conversation, talking about his time in the war, what he's lost and given, and how jarring it's been in an entirely new time. Even further, if you're really not cooperating, he'll still get that house in the country, but you'll end up as a prisoner there instead. Who will question the virtuous Captain America for having been apart of your kidnapping?

Strength - How outwardly passionate is this yandere around their darling?

Peter is absolutely not the type to hide how he feels for his darling. He can certainly try, but he will not fool anyone. Peter already wears his heart on his sleeve, so when he becomes as obsessed as he is with you, you'll know it. Trying to hide it is not in the cards for him. Even if you hated him, he'd still believe showing how much he loves you will make you love him back eventually.

So in the early stages, it'll be easy to notice how he stares at you with hearts in his eyes, how he hangs on every word you say, and how invested he seems to be in your life and interests. If you're in a relationship with him, you won't go an hour without Peter telling you he loves you. You may have called him clingy as a friend but as a partner, he has a hard time not being around you. At the very least, he's happy just being in the same room as you doing separate things.

The Magician - How would this yandere use their abilities/status on their darling?

For the most part, Peter doesn't ever use his powers or influence in any truly devious way, at least not intentionally. There will be times when he tries to impress you with his smarts. In an attempt to spend time with you, he'll offer to study with you in any classes you struggle with. He'll also show off his enhanced agility and strength when he knows you're looking.

Later on, however, there could be times when Peter will take advantage of certain things. If you're in danger or your relationship with him is crumbling, he'll use his relationship with Tony to find a place for you. A place that has Karen to watch over you when he's not there, good locks, and enough entertainment to keep you from getting bored. If you're fighting against him, Peter will also use his webs to keep you still for a while. They don't hurt, and by the time they dissolve, you'll have had plenty of time to think or talk things out. There are even a few smaller things that he might do unintentionally, such as coming home with bruises and other wounds or having nightmares that can easily have a person with high empathy weaken over.