#this turned out like shit but it's okay it was a learning experience (I have learned that animation is very hard and I am bad at it)
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I started this in January and I'm literally never going to finish it lmao
#portal#portal 2#portal revolution#portal: revolution#stirling#stirling portal#stirling portal revolution#my art#my animations#<- new tag maybe?????#this turned out like shit but it's okay it was a learning experience (I have learned that animation is very hard and I am bad at it)#these lip sync animations are so much fun tho. expect more#(just not any time in the near future)
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
I GOT TO THE FUCKING SCENE. WITH DAVID. I'M RUINED.
#i can't do this i can't do this i can't do this i can't do this i can't do this i can't do this i can't do this i can't do this i can't do#fuck. i. fuck. make me cry why don't you. holy shit#something about gustavo being genuinely happy and content with someone. genuinely smiling. speaking so softly.#being attracted to this person. liking this person. but never truly loving him. he could never truly love him.#(his heart belongs to someone else)#FUCK man i'm breaking down. i am breaking down. this is not okay#peter gould...................... i have words to share with you#i am. in pain. destroyed. utterly ruined.#he bought that wine that probably expensive ass wine i bet because david went on and on about it#and he says he's saving it for a truly special occasion. an invitation. AN INVITATION. and david says he'd love to hear about it.#he'd love to. he'd love to hear about it. when it happens. he wants to hear.#(he doesn't want to be there)#bro :(((( gustavo asked him out!!!!! GUSTAVO ASKED HIM OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and he turned him down.#AND GUSTAVO FINISHED HIS WINE AND FUCKING LEFT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE PRETENDED TO BE CALLED AWAY HE WAS SO UPSET ABOUT THAT REJECTION#gustavo could've found love HE COULD'VE FOUND LOVE he didn't love him yet but he could learn he could move on from max#but david REJECTED him and then walter KILLS him and he will never move on from max's death#and he'll never experience love stronger than what he had with max because the one man he cared for rejected him#and the one man he ever truly loved is dead and gustavo will never get revenge and gustavo will never move on. he can't move on#god this scene fucking devastated me holy shit i am going to CRY#AND IT'S RIGHT AFTER HE STARED INTO THE POOL MAX BLED INTO. RIGHT AFTER HE STARES AT THE SCENE OF HIS LOVER'S DEATH THIS HAPPENS.#HE KILLS LALO AND HE MAKES THE DONS MOCK HECTOR AND HE STARES AT THE SCENE AND MAKES A CHOICE AND DAVID REJECTS HIM DO YOU UNDERSTAND#fuck i'm gonna cry. ugh#the coca cola company's cock and ball stories#the coca cola company buys brba
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Streamer Danny
Everyone has a hobby or something they like to do. For Cass, that is watching Danny's stream. She doesn't know why but Danny's voices are very soothing and pleasant to hear. And it's not even just her that thought that. Every single one of Danny's fans say the same thing.
It is also a plus that Danny always talks using simple English. It makes it easier for her to learn how to speak and even read. Her favorite streams are the streams where Danny just sits and chats with the viewers. Not to say she doesn't like the other contents but there is just something nice to hear him answer her questions about himself.
No. She totally doesn't have a crush on that guy Steph. He doesn't even know her. How can she have a crush on someone that she never met before.
One thing she takes notes is the concerning things Danny sometimes says online. Like how he is half dead. Or something about a creepy godfather or something. Cass tries to look into him more with Tim's help (No Tim. She doesn't have a crush on this guy. And it's not creepy at all to stalk his personal information like this.) but finds practically nothing online about him except for his streaming channel and his hometown being somewhere in Illinois.
Danny also sometimes brings in guests to either interview or play video games with. There is Tucker, tech geek. He apparently is the one that sets up Danny's devices so that he can stream easily. Then there is Sam. His ex-girlfriend best friend. They talk about a lot of things mostly plants and ecosystems. There are also his sisters. Ellie is also a recurring guest. She often comes on stream and shares her travel experience and tips when traveling. Then there is Jazz who works as a psychiatrist at Arkham. And also is apparently working part-time for Red Hood.
Cass almost goes crazy when she hears that. She contemplates going to Jason to blackmail ask Jason to introduce Danny to her. Cass barely hesitates and the next thing anyone knows, Cass is inside Jason's apartment sitting on his couch nibbling on the freshly baked cookies Jason has on his counter.
Jason: *Walks out from his bedroom* Wtf! Where the hell did you come from?
Cass: *Stares*
Jason: Uggh. What the hell do you want?
Cass: Do you know Jazz?
Jason: *Tense* Why do you want to know?
Cass: Introduce me to her brother.
Jason: Danny? Why the hell do you wanna meet her?
Cass: A fan.
Jason: A fan? A fan of what? Wait. Danny did do the live streaming shit. Are you talking about that?
Cass: *Nods*
Jason: Whatever. Just don't fucking enter my house like that next time. I will call you to tell you when he is free.
Cass: *Smiles* Thank you.
Jason: Yeah yeah.
-Other place-
Danny: And that's it for today's stream people. I think I can stream again tomorrow but let's see if plans can keep up with change.
Chat: We want you to sing!
Danny: I will think about it in the next stream. Anyway see you later guys.
Chat: Bye!
Turning off the stream, Danny tiredly releases a sigh. Danny doesn't know why everyone wants him to sing. As far as Danny remembers, his voice has always been okay at best. He remembers getting mocked by Dash and his group when they participated in a choir when they were 10. Since then, Danny swears that he will never sing again.
What Danny likes though is dancing. Especially, ballet. He always likes the way the dancer expresses their emotions through body movements. The way they express anger, sadness, happiness and even love. When he becomes a ghost, he gets even better at reading those using ghost speak. Danny dreams of one day being able to dance in front of an audience of hundreds.
Opening a video platform website, Danny searches for a specific ballet group that he encounters. The group has a specific dancer that is amazing at expressing her emotions through dance.
Danny watches longingly hoping he could one day dance like that, or even dance with her. Suddenly a knock comes from his door.
Jazz: Hey, Danny. Can we talk?
#dp x dc crossover#danny phantom#dpxdc#batfam#danny x cass#dc x dp#dead silent#cassandra cain#cass x danny
999 notes
·
View notes
Note
spencer one shot where he’s angry at somebody else [bc he so does look so kissable when he’s angry >:(] maybe someone at one of the precincts they’re working at said something rude about r and he defends u and maybe he gets a lil kiss <3
im thinking “this is calm and it’s doctor” vibes bc that scene does things to me 😭
ty for requesting ♡ fem, 1.1k
cw for sexual harassment
"Jesus," Spencer says, rushing to stand behind you as you bend over.
"Mm?" you hum. You're fishing for your dropped change unsuccessfully by the precinct vending machines. "They have your chips, did you see?"
"Your pants are ripped," Spencer says, hand ghosting your thigh.
"What?" you ask, shooting up. You turn on the spot to hide, hand leaping back. You feel at the seam. "Where?"
"Top of your thigh."
"Shit, really? Can you see my–"
"Yeah," he says, meeting your wide eyes while you locate the rip. "How did you do that?" He laughs.
"Don't laugh!" you demand, though you're giggling as you do, hand covering your thigh and the bottom of your butt inefficiently.
"Do you want my jacket?"
"Don't cover it up, toots."
You and Spencer both blink. There's a crowd of grinning beat cops by the door of the cafeteria who've obviously witnessed your misdemeanour. "Toots?" Spencer asks.
"Sorry, boys, that's the end of the show," you say with a grin. Not because you particularly enjoy having been oggled, but it's always been like this. Men will always make weird comments to you, and you've learned to play nice until they're out of your jurisdiction.
"Turn back around," one says bravely, though you aren't sure which one.
Spencer stands in front of you subtly. "Do you know that thirty eight percent of women experience sexual harassment in the workplace?" he asks, quick but measured. "Thirty eight percent, but I'm sure a much smaller number of those women are federal agents, and a smaller number again have the capacity to break your arm. I've seen her give serial killers radial fractures. I've seen her do worse."
"We were just messing around," one says.
"No need to get defensive," says another. "Don't get mad, boy."
"I am defensive, but I'm not mad."
His tone attracts the attention of a precinct sergeant who barks at them to stop messing around and get back to work. "Were they bothering you?" he asks after they've filtered out with their heads down.
"No," you say swiftly. "Everything's fine."
Spencer frowns, worse when the sergeant leaves, turning to you to take your hand. A few weeks ago at a company picnic, when the sun was high and your spirits comparatively lower, you'd apologised to him for flirting. You love to flirt and especially with him, puppy eyed Spencer with his head of brown hair and his big brain, but some of the team suggested you were taking it too far. You apologised, but Spencer didn't really get what you were saying sorry for and took your hand to lead you out of the sun. He protects you.
"You okay?" he asks.
"I'm fine."
"You sure?" His voice fries.
"I'm sure," you say. His hand is an interesting thing on yours. He has long, long fingers that seem to possess their own willpower, moving even as they're sewn through yours. "I don't know what to do about my pants."
Spencer's eyebrows pinch together. "Well, I'll take care of that. I'll find you something. I can't believe those as–"
"Oh," you interrupt, taking your hand back in want of a better thing to hold, his cheek a mix of soft and scratchy against your palm. "You're still mad."
"I'm not mad," he insists, though eventually he relents, "Alright, I'm angry that they'd think it was okay to objectify you."
"What else?" you ask, letting your voice drop in pitch, the sound smooth as angora silk.
"I'm thinking about if I hadn't been here."
"I can protect myself," you murmur, endeared by the heat in his gaze. "You said it yourself, handsome. Radial fractures."
"You shouldn't have to."
"We both already know that," you say, the side of your hand slipping down his cheek reverently. He squints gently, his lashes dark triangles, his irises a browned sugar. His jaw clenches under your touch. "You're handsome."
"Right now?" he asks dryly.
"Are you handsome right now?"
"Are you really flirting with me right now?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" You draw a line under his ear whisper soft to curl a longer strand of his hair around the tip. "You look hot when you're winning."
"What did I win?" he asks, like he doesn't want to know.
You grin at him, stickying. "Would you like an itemised list?" you ask, rising on tiptoes to speak into the shell of his ear. "What do you think you deserve, handsome? For such a fearless defence?"
He's not immune to your whims, but he is used to them, planting his hands on your shoulders to ease you back on sure footing. "I don't want anything. I'll always defend you."
"Can I give you a small token of my gratitude, at least?"
His pinking cheeks practically emanate heat. "We don't have time for this," he says regretfully, "I still have to find you a coverup."
"Just a small token," you say.
He hums and haws. "Alright. Okay, whatever you want."
"You sure?"
He nods once, his jaw working with something unsaid. You touch his neck, fingertips trailing along the underside of his jaw until you're sure it's what he wants before you brace your hands behind his head and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, close enough that the corner of his lips align with yours but don't overlap. His neck is hot in your hands, his hair soft, his breath hooking as you lift your lips just a touch and your nose digs into his cheek. "Thank you, Spencer," you whisper.
He pulls you closer.
You shudder as his hand presses into the small of your back, wondering what it is he wants to do. His fingers spread. Your thoughts turn to white noise. Like he can sense it, he breathes out and steps away, but any sense of urgency is gone.
"As much as I might tease, I really do need some pants," you say. "I'm not very interested in anyone else seeing my panties today."
He rushes off to find you something and you press the backs of your fingers to your cheeks, feeling the heat there with a resigned embarrassment. He has no idea how much power he has over you, in his stony anger and his eager reception. The phantom of his hand warms your back until he returns, his sweater in hand. "Sorry, this is it."
"If you want me to wear your clothes, just say so."
"Hotch is pretty pissed at us."
"Ah," you sigh, tying his sweater around your waist, "another day in paradise, baby."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
5K notes
·
View notes
Note
hey how are youu? I’m new here and I’m completely in love with your work especially with the Barty’s ones! I wanted to request the prompt c 11 (you are okay) with the 4 (near death experience) and if you could make it like part of the series of where they bicker all the time it would be perfect! Anyways I really enjoy your writing and I love how you portray my man Barty🤍🫶🏼
hi there lovey! thank you so much for being here and for your sweet words<33 i combined this request with another i received, i hope that is okay
other request: i headcanon barty as a person who has attachment issues (on the ambivalent side), in the way he loves too much his friends and lovers but at the same time is afraid of intimacy bc he also struggles with showing affection in a non sexual way. so my idea is that (gn)reader and barty have an argument because of their insecurities about trust and commitment, but AFTER they've been avoiding the conversation for too long. it could end very much extremely bad or very good.
you can find the other fics for this specific au here and here
Prompts: C.11 "You're okay, you're okay" & 4. Near Death Experience
Words: 6k
Warnings: not proofread, gn!reader (no pronouns used), use of y/n, reader and barty both have mental breakdowns/spirals, attachment issues, miscommunication, "oh shit! love is scary but i do love you so what now" moments, near-fall on the ice, potions accident, choking in a non-sexual way, infirmary, language, talk of death, injured!reader, heavy hurt but heavy comfort, happy ending
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/07c4d2777d59266fdf9b001f00688920/bf48716d8526a08e-d6/s500x750/136a86594d0c38693ebf016ebd4ed4cf39c19b40.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/402ef0b398e40909cfe8ceb046c460cd/bf48716d8526a08e-ba/s540x810/890f4c8488687a375c6fd90f144aeb80bc55dca1.jpg)
this isn't fun anymore
Your relationship with Barty thus far had been interesting to say the least.
After endless bickering led to an impromptu kiss to shut him up in the library, which in turn led to a heavy make-out session in a nearby cot, which led to a “how does it feel to be my girlfriend?” “I wouldn’t know” “do you want to?” “sure” conversation in the Slytherin common room, you somehow wound up being in an established, committed relationship with one Barty Crouch Junior.
To your friends’ flabbergasted shock, and, quite frankly, your own surprise.
Even more surprisingly so, you loved it – which scared you to no end.
As the weeks began to stretch into months, you felt as if you were losing your footing more and more in your dynamic. What was once flirtatious and intense has now become almost intimate and close. It stills you in your movements as you try and find your bearing.
Who are you to Barty when you are not in the mood to quip? Or even talk at all? Who is Barty to you when you allow him to just be Barty and not sparring-partner Junior?
All good questions to ask oneself, but not as productive to spiral over as you walk with him from Hogsmeade, a little stretch behind your boisterous friends.
There are two reasons for this. One is that Barty has somehow learned to read your emotions fairly well despite your inability to communicate them effectively, and he is now scrutinising your distracted facial expressions. Second, and perhaps most importantly, is that it is winter in Scotland.
In your distracting spiral, you step on a snow that covered a perfectly polished sliver of ice, and your foot slips out from underneath you.
You barely managed to squeak out a shriek, scrambling to retract your hand from Barty’s to catch you as you fall, before one of his hands is around your waist and the other on the back of your neck, stabilising your neck. His wild eyes stare into yours, mild panic seeping away to make place for a wicked grin.
“Careful, sweetheart. Falling for me already?”
You roll your eyes before you let out a breath of relief, hands clutching onto his form as he is still holding you up in his grasp.
“You wish, Junior,” you scoff at him, albeit with a smile.
“Every night, on every star.”
You let him place you onto your legs, arm circling around your waist as a remaining layer of protection. You shiver, brushing off imaginary pieces of snow from the fall that did not occur. In front of you, your shared friends had stopped upon hearing you yell.
“Y/N, you good?” Lily called, concern etched onto her face.
At the same time, Sirius, ever the supportive friend, yelled, “Did Barty finally kill you?”
“Oh yes, Big Black, I am incredibly dead,” you yell back as Barty roll his eyes at you both and mutters something about on the contrary.
Regulus, in turn, says something you can’t quite catch over the distance, but you suppose it has something to do with your nickname for Sirius and its insinuations. Little Black did not enjoy being referred to as such.
The group waits up for the two of you to catch up, Barty enjoying taking his time with a lazy stroll.
“You mind picking up the pace, Junior?” Sirius grumbles.
Unfortunately, that only further encourages Barty. “Why would I? Got a pretty damsel in distress on my arm and all the time in the world.”
You try and rip out of his arms at that, feigning offence at him, but he only holds you tighter. “How dare you. I am neither a damsel nor in distress–”
He cuts you off with a quick peck on your lips. “You are pretty though. Sorry, baby, had to shut the sod up somehow.”
You turn your head away from him with a shake, trying your hardest not to blush at his words or his actions. You bully Regulus too much for his blushing to commit such atrocities yourself. “Whatever you say, Junior, but you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
“You don’t even live together,” Remus comments amusedly.
“Doesn’t matter; the sentiment still stands.”
James and Remus shake their heads at the two of you, while Sirius and Lily nod solemnly in support of you. The whole lot begins walking back the short distance to the castle.
Barty makes a comment of some sort to Regulus that both Black brothers and James quip back at, which starts another tireless spat. You are too zoned out to care what they are bickering about today, disappearing back into your thoughts recklessly, despite the dire consequences from last time.
Attachment issues was such a loaded term, you thought, and you didn’t like to think of yourself like that. Yet the fact remained that the longer you and Barty spent together, the more a part of your brain begins dry heaving and screaming. What began as pure fun, tingles along your spine at every back-and-forth, is becoming realer by the minute, and it terrifies you. Not because you cannot stand a relationship or fear being bound down – because you are starting to care for him. Genuinely, wholly, in a way that aches. You have always been one to shy away from emotional aches, and the fact that you now have to decide whether to withstand it or throw it away for another type of pain makes you lightheaded.
With his arm so securely around yours, with his laughter in your ear, you feel right. You feel content and whole. Why should that make sirens go off in your head?
Most of the time you spend with Barty is with others around, where you can’t fully access your emotions. In the Great Hall, if you eat by yourselves, everyone else is still there, when you walk the hallways or the grounds, there are always students and professors around. Even when you visit his dorm, which is becoming more frequent by the second, Evan and Regulus usually aren’t far. You almost wanted to keep it this way, ensure that Barty only sees the fun and open side of you, keeping everything else under lock and key. You almost avoid him when you are able to be alone just the two of you, because the implications are too vast for you to face them.
He has to know. He has to have seen. Have noticed that you keep pushing one front of you towards him and shielding the rest – and it seems like he enjoys that one, but at some point he must want more. Could you give it to him?
“Okay, what’s going on in that head of yours?” Barty’s whisper cuts through your thoughts as you step through the entrances to the castle, once more slightly secluded at the back of the group.
You merely hum in response, trying to pull yourself out of your spiral to look at him.
“C’mon, baby.” His drawl is teasing, but his eyes seem darker than usual. “You have never gone this long without insulting me somehow. What's up?”
“Maybe you’ve just been on your best behaviour today,” you say conspiratorially, putting on your mask expertly. “Haven’t needed to.”
“Now see, that is simply empirically wrong,” Barty guffaws at you. “Did you hear what I said to Reg earlier?” His raised eyebrow is giving you a silent cut the crap that you aren’t ready to face.
“I’ll be honest with you; I did not.” You look away, pulling your jacket further around you. “I’m just mentally preparing for Potions and Slughorn tomorrow, he said we should expect something big.”
“Should I be concerned that lying comes that easily to my girlfriend?” Barty asks, making you whip your head back to him. He is still teasing, but you really, really don’t like the look in his eyes.
“Should I be concerned that my boyfriend can’t take the hint to let something be?” You didn’t think about the words before you let them tumble, instantly getting defensive.
“No,” Barty says, stopping you with the hand on your waist, looking directly at you. “‘Cause I’m just checking on you when something is clearly wrong.”
“Since when do you check on me?” you say, realising your voice is uncomfortably close to a snarl. Barty does, too.
“Since you decided to take me up on my relentless flirting and enter into a relationship with me. You know, the kind where people care for and look after each other? Or is that not us?”
You stare at him for a second, as it uncomfortably settles into your bones that the odd look in his eyes is hurt. Confusion, concern and hurt. You’re at a loss for words.
“I don’t know what to say to that,” you settle on, feeling dumb but stubborn.
Barty nods, looking away at last, small frown over his lips. “Well. Let me know when you do. Or don’t, you know, it’s whatever.”
He walks away from you, leaving you to stand alone, looking after him. If your friends realised you’re gone, they have likely assumed that the two of you are in some hallway together making-out. No one would come check up on you.
You trek back and sit down, just outside the entrance to the castle, trying to understand what just happened. Sliding down the wall, you watch as new snow begins to fall, large wet chunks flying through the air. You let them symbolically represent your tears as you keep bottling it all up.
That night, you go to your dorm in silence, telling yourself you’re thankful not to see Barty on the way there. You fall asleep watching the door.
Truth is, you had also been stressed out regarding Slughorn’s Potions class for the day after. As you wake and get ready, anxiety rages through your body for more reasons than one. He had been teasing the class for weeks, saying that you would be brewing some dangerous, difficult potion, allowed into the curriculum as a one-time exception for him.
Technically, this would have been no problem, however you are currently paired with McLaggen in Potions. The biggest twat I have ever seen, as Barty described him. While you didn’t have as intense feelings about him, you knew one thing for certain: the boy was absolute shit at potions.
The kind of awful that you really don’t want to be paired with for some exotic and dangerous potion.
Potions was one of the few classes you and Barty had together as your subject selections were relatively different. He would always walk you from your dorm, first class in the morning, soaking up every minute with you. Some of your best banter came from Potions class, often at McLaggen’s expense, for better or worse.
When you opened your door, you were not entirely sure what to expect.
What you found, certainly was not it, though.
“Regulus, what– what are you doing here?”
Regulus looked incredibly sheepish where he stood, weight leaned on one of his hips as one hand scratched the back of his neck. The other held something in it that you couldn’t quite detect as you took the awkward scene of him in.
“I, uh,” he starts, uncharacteristically inarticulate. “Barty said he couldn’t walk you today, but wanted to give you something for, um, your anxiety? About the class? Or something like that. Anyway, here.”
The tips of his ears were burning red at the humiliation of being caught in the middle of whatever this was. He reached out his hand and opened it to reveal a small potions bottle – ironic – with some purple liquid inside.
“What is it?” you asked, taking it tentatively and turning it over in your hands.
“It’s meant to make you calm down and relax– not that I think you need to do that, just, Barty wanted to give it to you.” Regulus winces at his own inelegance. “I got some from James the other week, he apparently has a bunch stacked up in his dorm with the boys, for God knows what reason. Barty asked for one for you. So, here we are.”
“I don’t really know what to say,” you trail off, looking between the potion and Regulus. “Thanks?”
“I, uh, will tell him that then–”
“Gods, no,” you cut him off. “Don’t tell him that, he wouldn’t appreciate it.”
As you seem to be thinking over a response, Regulus adds: “If it makes a difference, he said something to me about giving it to you on the off-chance that he was wrong and a massive wanker.”
You chuckle at that. “Well, he’s always a massive wanker,” you joke on reflex. “But you don’t need to act as an owl, Reg, I’ll thank him myself. And thank you for the potion.”
Regulus seems to let out a breath of relief at that, smiling a bit more comfortably at last. “Great, well, I’ll see you around I guess.”
You smile curtly and give him a quick nod before seeing him all but run off.
Once he’s gone, you drink the potion and the effects are instantaneous. Your shoulders seem to loosen in places you didn’t know they were wound up, your breathing regulates and your heartbeat slows. A little too late, you mull over that this was James’s potion, and you probably should have been careful, given his track record in class. Nevertheless, the potion seems legitimate.
With a bit more breath in your lungs, you walk off to class, alone.
Barty could not make up his mind on whether to drag his gaze away from you when it instantly gravitated towards you, or if he could let it linger.
The feelings warring in his chest felt impossible to map out. On the one hand, you had snapped at him when he tried to help, which was shitty – on the other, he still didn’t know what he was trying to help with or what compelled you to snap at him. What you were going through. Which honestly is on you, he thought, wincing at his own frustrations.
He was not one to dwell on small spats, but this was entirely unfamiliar territory to him. Barty didn’t do relationships, at least he didn’t think so before you came in like a freight train consuming his being. It was fun to finally have someone properly challenge him and do so with a beautiful smile on their face – the perfect situation for him. It was fun, until his heart began to hurt when you weren’t near, until it was your laugh that ran through his head, guiding him away from a spiral. Until he realised he was not just down bad for you as Dorcas teased, he was something much, much worse.
And he had no idea how to handle it.
His infatuation with you was all-encompassing, a burning passion and loyalty that characterised having Barty’s affection. He knew it, as did all his friends, but when it is with you, he doesn’t know how to handle it. With a friend, he could snog, even shag, them at a random party and it wouldn’t matter for either of them. With you, that first kiss, first anything, was so much more important. With a friend, if he pissed them off enough, they would just cool off without him for a while and then the slate was clear. With you – he had no idea what he would do if you disappeared. Would you come back? He was acutely aware that this was a dynamic he didn’t know how to explore.
Now, it seemed like you needed his support, but wouldn’t accept it. Didn’t want him near it.
He had to respect that, he thought to himself. So, he did his best to tear his gaze away and leave you be.
With the amount of times your eyes met, he knew he wasn’t being successful. He paid no mind to the fact that you did not avert your eyes, either.
His feet were tapping relentlessly on the ground, his eyes flicking all over the Potions classroom to keep them from you. Barty was losing his fucking mind and he had no idea what to do about it.
“Mate,” Evan cuts off his distracted mental monologue that Barty himself couldn’t really make sense of. “Would you bloody cut it off? I’m trying to not kill us here.”
Barty does not dignify him with a response, but tries to calm his skittishness, albeit not overly successfully. He zeroes in on Slughorn and his peculiar facial expressions as he, a bit too excitedly for 8 in the morning, continues his explanation.
Something about a healing potion that is so particular that if brewed even slightly wrong, it becomes one of the most effective poisons in the world. Something about corrosive to the touch. Something about bezoars healing.
Barty settles his gaze on the bowl of bezoars Slughorn had on his desk, just in case, with a bad feeling in his stomach. He wondered if you felt the same.
As the pairs set to attempt the feat of making the potion correctly, Barty’s eyes drifted back to you, happy to leave the work to Evan – who in turn was happy to work in the silence without his constant chatter.
Your shoulders were relaxed, though your brows were furrowed together as you reread the instructions for the thousandth time. He wondered if you had taken the potion he sent to you with Regulus, he wondered if it helped you. While he knew in his bones you were lying about it being what bothered you, he still could never be too sure. He wanted you to feel safe, whichever way he could ensure it.
He knows what that’s called, which is why he is freaking out so to speak.
You kept shooting dirty looks at McLaggen whenever he tried to help, keeping him at arm’s length from the potion, fueling the boy’s frustrations. Barty was quite certain he had seen you threaten him with your wand at one point when he tried to stir the potion. He couldn’t blame you.
McLaggen, as incompetent as ever, was trying to make himself useful by reading the instructions aloud to you, though his exaggerated enunciation was more distracting than helpful. Barty withholds a snicker as he can tell you are silently begging him to shut up. The frustration on your face was palpable, the tension between you and your partner practically humming in the air. McLaggen, ever oblivious, didn’t take the hint.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to–?”
“I’m sure,” you snapped, not looking up from the cauldron.
From across the room, you felt Barty’s eyes on you again. His gaze had become a constant presence, burning into your skin. Even when you weren't looking at him, you could feel him there, lingering, watching, waiting. It was maddening, but also strangely comforting. You knew you had to talk together soon, but you still had no idea how to communicate your feelings, if you even dared to.
You had to snap yourself back into it to remain in control of your little situation at hand.
McLaggen, frustrated by being sidelined, huffed and crossed his arms. “It’s just stirring! How hard could it be?”
“Apparently, harder than you think,” you muttered, casting him a side-eye. The potion was already starting to smell off, and you knew he had messed it up.
McLaggen’s face flushed in embarrassment, and before you could stop him, he reached for the ladle, his ego clearly bruised.
"I'll show you–"
“Wait–”
It happened in a blur. His hand snuck past yours, clumsy and wild. It knocked against the cauldron’s edge, sending it tipping over. The thick, boiling liquid surged out, splashing across the table – and onto your leg.
The pain was instant, white-hot and searing, like your skin was being eaten alive. You screamed, recoiling as the potion sizzled straight through your pant leg, immediately finding flesh.
The room seemed to freeze for a moment, everyone turning to see what had happened. The smell of burning skin filled the air as you stumbled back, falling over your increasingly immobile leg, eyes wide with shock and pain.
The world around disappeared from you as you were consumed by the burning, not even able to hear your gasps of pain.
For that moment, no one did anything.
No one but Barty – Barty moved.
Without hesitation, without thought, he lunged across the room. He grabbed the entire bowl of bezoars, eyes never leaving you. His body collided with McLaggen, shoving him aside with a force that sent the boy slamming into the wall behind, just barely avoiding the poison himself. Barty didn’t even glance at him; his focus was solely on you.
Somewhere in the back Slughorn made a sound of shock and disappointment that Barty blocked out.
He dropped down beside you, taking your shaking upper body in his arms. "You're okay, you're okay," he muttered in your ear, as he cradled your jaw with one hand and opened your mouth with another. With two quick, precise fingers he shoved the bezoar as far down your throat as he could, arm circled securely around your waist for when your body convulsed in response to the intrusion. "You're okay, I've got you," he continued to mumble, as if to himself this time, as he looked at you frantically.
Your body's trembling and your small gasps of pain faded, but your leg was still searing painfully and you still looked completely out of it.
Barty’s heart lurched – he had never seen you like this. Never seen you so vulnerable, so hurt.
“Barty–” you gasped, your voice breaking in panic.
The classroom had erupted into chaos around you – students scrambling away from the spill, Slughorn’s booming voice calling for calm. In it all, Barty's eyes kept looking you over, almost like he was itching to give you another bezoar just in case.
“You’re okay,” he repeated, quieter this time, his voice cracking ever so slightly.
Your breath came out in ragged gasps, the pain subsiding slowly. Barty's hands remained around you, grounding you essentially in his lap, keeping you tethered to the moment.
“Someone fetch Madam Pomfrey!” Slughorn’s booming voice cut through the heavy air as he rushed over, his face pale with panic. “Quickly now! That potion– oh dear–"
McLaggen stood behind him, mouth agape in shock and horror as almost all other students had lined up by the walls, putting distance between themselves and the potion. Everyone except Evan, who remained by his desk, grip tight on the wood as he looked in horror and concern.
Barty ignored him. He ignored everyone. His only focus was you – your shallow breathing, your wide, panicked eyes. He didn’t even realise that his hands were shaking until you whimpered softly, and he felt his control slipping further.
“I’m taking her to the infirmary,” Barty said through gritted teeth, not waiting for permission.
Barty scooped you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he stood. The weight of you felt so fragile, so wrong. You were supposed to be strong, biting back with sharp quips and rolling your eyes at his antics. Not this. Not in pain and trembling in his arms.
“Now, now, I’m sure Madam Pomfrey can come here–”
“No,” Barty said, his voice dark and dangerous, leaving no room for argument. “I’m taking her.”
“Mr. Crouch– wait! We should–” Slughorn tried again, but Barty was already moving, carrying you through the rows of desks and out the door.
His steps were quick but measured, and you were too disoriented by the pain and the shock to protest. Your head rested against his chest, the steady beat of his heart the only thing anchoring you to reality.
“Hang on, my love,” he murmured, his voice rough and shaky. “I’ve got you. You’re gonna be alright.”
You weren’t sure when you closed your eyes, but by the time you tried to open them again, you were in the infirmary.
Your mind was swimming through a haze of pain and exhaustion. The world felt heavy around you, like you were dragging yourself up through thick water. At first, you weren’t sure where you were – the sterile smell of potions and the soft rustling of sheets felt foreign, disconnected.
Then you shifted ever so slightly and the sharp sting in your leg brought it all crashing back.
The classroom. The potion. McLaggen’s bloody idiocy. The burning, searing pain as the liquid had spilled across your skin.
Barty.
Barty was sitting at your bedside, his usual composed demeanour shattered. His shoulders were hunched, his face tight with worry, and there was a wildness in his eyes that you had never seen before. The sight of him like that sent a pang of emotion through you, more potent than the lingering sting of the potion burn.
You swallowed thickly, your throat dry. “Barty…” Your voice came out in a cracked whisper.
His head jerked up, his eyes locking onto yours in an instant. For a second, the relief that washed over his face was so overwhelming that it almost broke you. He moved closer, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached out for your hand, stopping just before touching you, as if he wasn’t sure if he should. If he could.
“You’re awake,” he breathed, his voice rough with emotion. His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign of how you were feeling. “Are you… does it hurt? Are you in pain?”
You blinked up at him, your mind still foggy as the events of the day came rushing back in fragments. You remembered the burning pain, the panic that had clawed at your chest, and – Barty. Barty holding you, his voice in your ear, telling you that you’d be okay.
And now here he was, sitting beside you, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch you but holding back as if afraid he might break you further.
"I–" you tried, but your voice cut off, throat hoarse from the bezoar you were increasingly remembering. "I think I'm fine."
Barty just looked at you, still searching, clearly unsatisfied with your answer. What an unfortunate theme for the week.
“It’s… it’s not as bad now,” you managed, your voice hoarse. The burning in your arm was still there, a dull throb beneath the bandages, but it was nothing compared to the ache in your chest. “What happened? After… I don’t know if I really remember…”
Barty swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he fought to maintain his composure. “Pomfrey patched you up. You passed out from the pain.” He paused, his voice thickening. “It was bad. You could’ve–”
He cut himself off, his fingers curling into fists as he looked away, his throat working visibly. “It was a close call.”
At his words, you realise how hard you were fighting the tears, the bottle you keep your emotions in clearly shattered by your impact with the floor.
"I'm alright," you whispered, to which he just nodded, beautiful face stained by a frown. Yeah, yeah, you thought you could hear him mutter.
"Barty?" you called softly, hoping for his attentive eyes to be back on you – they were in an instant. "Thank you."
"I would do anything for you," he whispered. "I just need you to be alright. I'm so sorry."
"For what?" Your eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. "You did nothing wrong Barty. You– you did so good."
Barty leans his head on his fists curled up on your bedside. He was still slightly trembling. "I thought I lost you."
His words hit you like a physical blow. You could hear the desperation in his voice, the crack in his usually cool exterior, and it made your chest tighten with emotion. He wasn’t just worried – he had been terrified. You could see it in the way he refused to meet your eyes now, as if he was still trying to gather himself, still fighting the lingering fear.
Your heart twisted painfully at the sight of him like this, so undone, so vulnerable. It was strange when he was always the one so sure of himself, always the one in control. His usual composed mask had crumbled, leaving raw emotion exposed underneath. You wanted to kiss it better. You wanted to see more.
It was strange, you thought, lying there in the infirmary with a dull ache all throughout your body. Strange how, in moments like these, everything else – the fear, the confusion, the uncertainty – seemed to fall away. All that was left was Barty, his presence consuming every inch of your awareness.
"Barty..." you whispered again. When he looked up at you, his eyes were red-rimmed.
You simply turned your hand laying near his over. An open invitation.
He accepted it immediately, intertwining his fingers with yours and kissing the back of your hand so sweetly it hurt you.
"I thought–" you start, voice breaking from emotion this time. "When it happened, all I could think about was you. How sweet you are with me even when I'm terrible, how stupid it is to let my emotions get in the way of that. I didn't even get to say sorry to you and–" You take a deep breath. "I wanted to. I'm sorry, Barty."
He was shaking his head, cheek against your hand he was holding as it looked at you intensely. "Absolutely not. Apology accepted and then rejected. I don't want you to be sorry."
You try to interject, but he sits up, leaning on his elbow onto your bedside so you are at eye-level. "Nuh-uh. I won't allow it. Thank you, and I'm sorry too, but no."
"Will you at least accept the sentiment that I never meant to hurt you?" you whisper through a tired smile.
"Of course. I hurt myself. I was confused and scared and– shit, this feeling thing is so bloody hard for no reason." You laugh slightly at that, wincing when it pains you. "I hated feeling like we weren't a team."
"Me too," you whispered, not trusting your voice. "I didn't want to fight, I just find it so difficult to trust. That I can, I don't know, show you everything and not run. Because I don't know what to do with myself if you do."
Barty's grip on your hand tightened. "I won't. I swear to you, I won't. That's what scares the shit out of me. How ridiculously much I care about you. What am I to do with that?"
A few tears spilled down your cheeks before you could stop it. His hand instinctively shot forward to wipe them away, frown deepening.
"Can we be scared and confused together?" you asked weakly.
For the first time since you woke up, you saw a smile grace Barty's face, clouded only slightly by his teary eyes. "I reckon we can, love. I– I just need you."
You closed your eyes, triggering the release of a few more tears.
"You'll never lose me," Barty continued, pressing his forehead back against your intertwined hands. "I swear. I don't care what fight we have or how unsure we are. You're the only person who–" He stopped, his breathing hitching as if the words were too heavy on his vocal chords. "I need you."
Your heart clenched painfully at the raw emotion in his voice. The cool, confident Barty you were used to wasn’t here right now. This was a Barty who was terrified and loving, who was stripped bare of all the usual bravado and snark. It made your chest ache in a way that was so full of feeling that it was almost overwhelming.
“I need you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
He lifted his head slowly, his eyes locking onto yours again. There was something so vulnerable, so intense in his gaze that it nearly stole your breath away. He leaned forward then, hesitating only for a moment before his lips brushed gently against your forehead, lingering there as if he was grounding himself in the feel of you, the reality that you were still here.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured against your skin. “I promise.”
For a moment, the weight of those words hung in the air, settling into the space between you. And despite the pain, despite everything that had happened, you felt a small flicker of warmth spark in your chest.
You brought your free hand up to the nape of his neck, guiding his lips from your forehead to your own, kissing him as softly as you could muster. His kiss was careful as he tried to pour as much emotion as possible. All the things you could not say yet, but cared for each other in spite of.
When you parted, you rested your foreheads together and you let out a shaky breath, your heart slowing as the adrenaline finally began to fade.
You opened your eyes to find Barty already looking at you with a slight smile – the look in his eyes was positively lovesick.
With the ease Barty's touch awarded you, you let out a half-choked laugh, relief expanding in your chest, which in turn widened his smile.
"What's so funny?" he asked, a teasing tone finally making it back into his voice.
"I'm just thinking about how ridiculous we are," you laughed, squeezing his hand. "And dramatic, Merlin's beard."
Barty huffed a laugh in return, shaking his head at you. "You knew what you were signing up for when you got with me. Theatrical is my middle name."
"Oh, so you admit it now, do you?"
"Only for you."
You gaze into his eyes and you realise – Barty is not the only one who is lovesick.
"Tell me now," you said, teasing tone finally back in your voice. It made Barty's heart soar, but not as much as your next sentence. "How did you trick me into falling in love with you, Junior?"
"I trick you? Love, I've been heads over heels for you since the first time you insulted me. You're the one who should fess up."
Barty's grin threatened to tear his skin apart as he shook his head.
“Is that so?”
“Absolutely.” He shifted closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that made your heart stutter. “You’re impossible not to fall for.”
“Good,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Because I think you're stuck with me now.”
Barty leaned down, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead, and when he pulled back, his eyes were alight with something that looked an awful lot like hope.
“Stuck, huh?”
You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t get cocky, Junior.”
“Too late, sweetheart.”
“In that case," you started, trailing off as if you grew uncertain of yourself once more. Barty's hold on you remained steadfast. "Can you stay? Just stay here with me, until I'm dispatched?”
“I’m not leaving,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles in a steady, grounding rhythm. “I’ll stay as long as you want. You've got me.”
You felt yourself relax into the bed, your eyes growing heavy with exhaustion, but for the first time in a long while, the tightness in your chest had eased. As your eyes fluttered closed, you heard Barty’s voice again, soft and filled with so much emotion that it made your heart ache all over again.
“Sleep well, my love."
#barty crouch junior#barty crouch junior x reader#barty crouch junior x you#barty crouch junior x y/n#barty crouch jr x reader#barty crouch jr x you#barty crouch jr x y/n#barty crouch jr#barty crouch x reader#barty crouch#barty crouch x you#barty crouch x y/n#barty#barty x reader#barty x you#barty x y/n#barty crouch jr fluff#barty crouch jr angst#barty crouch jr self insert#barty crouch jr reader insert#marauders#marauders era#marauders era reader insert#marauders era fanfic#marauders x you#marauders x reader#marauders x y/n#the slytherin skittles#slytherin skittles#slytherin skittles x reader
623 notes
·
View notes
Note
hii, could you write a fluffy smut where Reader is a virgin (no experience)? Basically Agatha takes Reader’s virginity, but in slow steps to make her comfortable and showing Reader everything. Reader being untouched since forever -Reader is really HORNY-
Step by Step !NSFW!
Agatha Harkness x fem!reader
Warnings: porn with the tiniest bit of plot??, loss of virginity (R), oral (R receiving), fingering (R and A receiving), soft agatha, explicit consent, hand holding kink if you squint, not beta read we die like the coven
A/N: Hi! I'm so sorry I've been gone, my canon event decided to happen in November instead of October, but I'm getting back into the groove! I was so excited to write this because I've been needing soft smut lately so I hope you enjoy!!
It was agony. No relationship of yours had ever progressed slower–not that you minded. But it was a bit painful.
With Agatha being over 300 years old, she had learned a thing or two about patience. Going through the Road had brought you closer together, and you were now in your sixth month of this relationship. You had held hands, kissed frequently, even moved in with each other, but you hadn’t had sex.
No other relationship you were in had lasted this long. Agatha was so much more different than your last partners: she had more wit than what was good for her, she made you laugh every day, and more importantly, she put your needs before anyone else’s. She consulted you in important decisions and let you be a part of her life. She cared about you deeply–more than anyone had before, and the thought of that made you tear up.
How thankful you were that nothing else had worked out.
After receiving a peck on the lips while making dinner for the both of you, you smiled, “Do you wanna watch a movie tonight?”
“Okay,” Agatha responded, turning her head quickly and raising her eyebrows, “but no more Fifty Shades. I don’t care if it was just so we could make fun of it, that shit was weird.”
You giggled, “I wasn’t gonna suggest Fifty Shades. I’ll let you pick.”
The domesticity after moving in with Agatha was palpable–and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You developed a nightly routine with her: you would make dinner while she cleaned out Señor Scratchy’s cage. The both of you would sit down for dinner while Señor Scratchy ate on the floor beside the table, you’d talk about your days and the new shows you two were watching together, Agatha would usually tell a story or two from her “glory days” as she’d call it, and then the two of you would clean up the kitchen together and retire to the living room with a glass of wine each, finally going to bed around eleven.
But tonight, every minute of your routine pained you. All throughout dinner you wanted to shout at Agatha to take you right there. You were so painfully turned on, you were sure she could tell.
Doing the dishes, you had to hold yourself back from pulling her into a passionate kiss and having her fuck you right there on the counter.
But now, it was nearly nine, and the movie Agatha had picked out wasn’t even halfway over. You were so close to taking matters into your own hands–that was, until Agatha’s touch on your thigh felt anything but innocent.
As her fingers trace a line up and down your thigh, you find it hard to control your breathing. Her fingers continue, getting closer and closer to the apex of your thighs.
“Do you like that?” she asks, muttering in your ear.
You take a deep breath, “Yes.”
She hums, chuckling softly and looking back at the television, “Keep watching the movie…”
You obey, despite how hard it is, and continue watching the movie as her fingers don’t leave their position and you become more and more needy.
The movie is over by eleven, and soon, you’re saying goodnight to Señor Scratchy and turning off the lights.
As soon as you get in the bedroom, Agatha’s shirt is off and she’s left in her bra. The sight almost makes you drool and she smirks, “You like what you see?”
“I–ye–Uhh–”
“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” she drawls, and steps closer to you.
Her hand is on your chest and she walks you backwards until your knees hit the bed and you collapse onto your back. As she crawls toward you, you sit up and scoot yourself back until you’re in the center of the bed and Agatha is in front of you..
Your hands go around Agatha immediately when she kisses you, pulling her closer. A chill runs through you at the feeling of her chest against you and it amplifies when her hands run under your shirt.
She pulls away from your lips just enough to mutter, “Is it okay if I take this off?”
“Yes,” you whisper, and your shirt is discarded in an instant with your lips back on hers.
Her hands move to your back and her fingers lightly touch the band of your bra. “What about this?”
You nod, “Yes.”
After removing her own bra, the two of you in nothing but your underwear, and the heat between you increases immensely. Your hands run over every inch of each other’s bodies as you kiss passionately.
Agatha pulls away from your lips and looks you deeply in the eyes, holding your face with her hands. You had never seen such an expression on her. Even when sad, she’d keep a hard exterior. But this is new. This is soft and loving. It’s filled with warmth but tinged with concern.
“Are you absolutely sure you want to continue?” she asks softly.
You nod your head, “Yes, Agatha.” She leans in to kiss you again, but you stop her. “Wait. I’ve…never done this. Is it alright–can we go slowly?”
Anxiety courses through you. You’re waiting to hear the familiar words that your past relationships would throw at you.
“Oh…Well, I only wanna be with someone who’s experienced…Sorry.”
“I don’t date virgins, sorry.”
Instead, these words never come.
Agatha smiles softly, “Of course. We can go at whatever pace you want. We’ll go one step at a time.”
“I’d like that,” you mutter, almost having to hold back tears. “Thank you.”
Smiling again, Agatha kisses you and pushes you slowly down onto your back. “I’m going to touch you now,” she says. “Is that okay?”
You look into her eyes and nod.
“I need to hear you say it.” Your cheeks grow warm at the sound of the sternness in her voice. “Yes,” you respond. “That’s okay.”
“Good girl,” she smiles, and kisses you once again.
You can feel your pulse quicken and breathing pick up as her fingers skim over skin–down your chest, brushing over your nipples and over your abdomen, down to your hips.
She sits back and takes a good look at you as she continues to hold your thighs. “You look so good like this…”
You become flustered, hiding your face in your forearms before Agatha leans down and pulls them away. “Oh, don’t hide yourself from me, darling,” she smiles. “You have nothing to be worried about.” She sets your arms down gently, “Take a few breaths for me…that’s it. Do you want me to stop?”
You shake your head no quickly, “No! Please, don’t stop.”
“Okay,” she whispers, kissing you deeply and then making her way down your body. “It’s okay if you don’t finish quickly–or at all. It’s just about feeling good. Okay?”
You nod and she kisses your hips and licks up your thighs, and delights in the way goosebumps form over your skin. Her fingers pull aside the gusset of your underwear and run up your slit, circling your clit.
When you moan, Agatha hums, placing a kiss on your thigh. “That’s it,” she coos. “Let it out. Tell me how good it feels.”
When her sentence ends, it’s only seconds before you feel her tongue on you now. You let out a long moan as she continues, drawing short, languid lines with tongue.
“More,” you pant. “More, please, Agatha.”
She looks up at you, “I’m going to use my fingers next, okay?”
“Okay,” you nod, and gasp at the feeling of her fingers tracing your entrance as her tongue continues. “Oh, my god, Agatha…”
When her two fingers slide in and curl, your back arches and you grab her free hand. You relish in the way her fingers interlock with yours and it makes the pleasure all the more enjoyable as you start grinding your hips into her tongue.
Your hand clasps over your mouth as a whimper turns into a particularly loud moan, “God, Agatha–oh, fuck!’
“Do you want me to go faster?” she asks, not removing her fingers. You don’t respond until she curls her fingers again, “Answer me.”
“Yes!” you moan. “Yes! Please, go faster!” As she quickens her pace, your body feels like it’s on fire. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Yes! Don’t stop!” Your back arches and you gasp when Agatha sucks hard, moaning loudly. “I’m–oh, god–please, Agatha! I’m gonna cum! Don’t stop!”
Agatha hums against you and tightens her hold on your hand, “Keep going, baby. You can do it…cum for me.”
She seems to enjoy the view a whole lot more as you shake and moan beneath her. “Good girl,” she says as she crawls back up to hover over you. With her fingers still slowly working inside you, her hand lets go of yours and takes your chin. “That was a lot for your first time,” she says quietly, and kisses you. “But you did so well for me.”
You smile into the second kiss and hum as you taste yourself, taking pleasure in how Agatha’s fingers still haven’t moved from their original position inside you. “I love you,” you whisper against her lips before taking your own hand and sliding it down Agatha’s body. You find the edge of her underwear and move your hand beneath them. “Is this okay?”
Her lips brush yours and she huffs as your fingers gather her arousal and circle her clit, “Yes, just like that. Keep going, baby.”
When her lips clash with yours again, her own fingers inside you start again. You’re both breathing heavily into each other's mouths and your foreheads press into each other as Agatha begins to rock her hips on your fingers. Your second orgasm didn’t take long to hit and Agatha’s first didn’t take long either–neither did your third or her second.
The entire situation was so erotic, you could barely handle it. You had read books, watched movies and TV, even watched porn a few times. But nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to Agatha’s delicate touch and passionate kisses–the sounds she makes when she finishes and the praise she gives you as come undone beneath her. You had only ever dreamed of someone like her.
Agatha lays on her back with her arm around your shoulders, the comforter and bedsheets askew in a wild mess around you. You’re both breathing heavily and you place little pecks on her hand and wrist.
“Are you–are you sure that was your first time?” Agatha huffs tiredly.
You giggle and bury your face in her neck. As you kiss the exposed skin softly, you say, “That impressed, huh?”
“Quite,” she answers.
Moments of silence and kissing go by before you lift your head and look Agatha in the eyes. “So, do you wanna go again?”
Agatha laughs and kisses you, “You are completely insatiable!”
387 notes
·
View notes
Note
Are there any tropes or lessons you like to see used on the five man band.
I.E.: the lancer needs to learn the power of friendship or the heart needing to learn self care
Oh man. So many. Just off the top of my head-
The Leader is out of commission and The Lancer gets their wish of being in charge! Oh god why is everything so difficult this is like herding cats how does The Leader stand it
The Smart Guy has friends now, so it's easy to forget that before The Band they were isolated and awkward and overall very alone. Let's unpack that!
Oh nooooo The Lancer was overconfident and got their ass beat by bad guys and now they need to get rescuuuuuued nooooooo what if they learn a lesson about truuuuuust
The Heart supports the team without complaint… but what happens when they need support? (hugs. hugs happen)
Has The Lancer… betrayed us?? (maybe a little, as a treat, but not for long so relax)
Everyone else is out of commission! It's up to The Smart Guy to sneakily save the day!
The villain of the week made someone in the group experience Deep Emotional Issues and now The Heart is going to straight-up murder them if nobody stops them
hey bad news they brainwashed the chillest friendliest member of the gang and now we have to do an absolutely terrifying fight scene about it
Everyone on the team is relying on one member's unique skill to save them all while the rest of them buy time, and the only person who isn't sure they can do it is the person doing it
One of them is cornered, but wins using a skill they picked up from a teammate (and possibly complains about it nonstop)
Everyone is being independently interrogated about something they all did and every single one of them is either stonewalling or lying outrageously
Okay one of the team is out of commission let's try REALLY HARD to take care of them and handle any problems WITHOUT BOTHERING THEM I'm sure this won't result in a comedy of errors
Everyone gets knocked flat in a one-shot move but how cool is it when the powerhouse is the only one who manages to get back up
Okay you guys go handle the main villain I'll stay here by myself and hold off the entire army of minions no sweat
Oh hey, turns out this Heart character we've been underestimating isn't weak or underpowered, they're just usually much too nice to kick anyone's ass half as hard as they deserve. congrats on finally finding their breaking point tho
One of the characters is feeling useless, sure hope they don't push themself to deeply self-destructive extremes to compensate
Somehow The Leader has been temporarily compromised to the side of Evil I sure hope The Lancer doesn't take it upon themself to solve this the only way they know how (running off on their own and getting their shit rocked)
Local Lancer Unfortunately Concludes They Are Undyingly Loyal To These Idiots
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
ೀ⋆。"Sweet taste" ۶ৎ˚⋆
Overview » Soobin is your friendly neighbour, wants to start a pastry business! You're there to support him in his dream but feelings get involved once he catches you doing something not quite appropriate.
↳ warnings: NSFW, masturbation, titfucking, dirty talk, dacryphilia, porn, fluff but mostly smut.
↳ pairings: femdom!reader x sub!soobin, meandom!reader, perv!Soobin, you two are both MASTER BAKERS!! (๑>•̀๑)
Author's note: posting this for sbn's bday! Omg I barely even got it done in time anyways hope you eat this up cuz I probably won't be posting in a while UAHA
It had been three whole months since your cute neighbor, Soobin, moved in! He always came knocking at your door on a weekday— Tuesday 4:30 to be exact, and held a box full of home baked sweets! At first you were suspicious, a guy? giving out sweets? For free? It's too good to be true. Then again you were a broke unemployed college student, so you were in no position to decline.
They were desserts you'd usually see at the bakery, tarts, cake slices, pies— and they look appetizing! The smell was kind of throwing you off though. So you tried them! And god, they tasted awful. "Did he replace the sugar with salt??" You almost choked, spitting it out, I mean atleast there was effort..
The next time you were given sweets, you try to politely decline, learning from last times experience. But the light in his glossy eyes, it's the look of feigning innocence, and it makes you give in. "Can't believe I'm afraid of hurting a boys feelings.." You were about to head back to your apartment, most likely gonna throw the box of sweets when you get into your room, but soobin stopped you. "Wait!- I needed to ask you- no! I need you to do something actually.." you turn around and face him, awaiting his request. "Can you try them right now? I want some feedback.." "oh.. shit." "What was that?" You play dumb. "Uhh nothing, sorry." You start opening the box, staring at the desserts, you pick out the cookie. Macadamia, and white chocolate, a classic!
Nothing could go wrong..
You pick up the piece and place it in your mouth, chewing it to bits, it's sweet! Your face lights up and that gives soobin the impression that you liked it!— Then you chew down on something hard, it breaks down in your mouth and the intense sweetness gets you coughing. Soobins enthusiastic smile immediately fades, turning into concern. "Are you okay?" You try to digest the cookie properly, that was a bit too sweet. "-EHEM! w-was that a whole block of sugar in there?"
So by your guidance, and the internet. Soobin began to develop his baking skills in the kitchen! It nearly cost you your lives this one time he set the wrong temperature, but mistakes are just a step to success! Now, soobins pastries have gotten much better than they were in the past, and you promise to work as his assistant if he does open a physical store one day.
"Ahhh.." The slick sound of his hand stroking his cock up and down was echoing in the entire room, staring at the video where these two lovers were doing obscene things to eachother, his eyes half-lidded. "..m' so closee.." He's whining under his breath, pushing himself to the brink of tears. Even though he kept convincing himself "never again." after every climax, he ends up doing it again. As he's busyung himself with jerking off, a thought slips into his mind. "Soobin.." He's hovering over you, just like the video, and burying himself deep inside you, the idea of it sparks something inside him and that thrilling sensation takes over the moment he goes over the edge, shaking and moaning loudly as he split his load all over himself. It was a lewd sight. He heaves, all sweating and panting, feeling so ashamed to the fact he came to his dirty imagination of you. But it felt so good..
Soobin sighs, taking out more tissues and replaying the video. "One more can't be just bad.."
Okay, maybe one more was that bad. He spent his entire night blowing his load all over the place to the thought of you, and worse, he had to face you the next day! This was a punishment from the heavens for his indecency and he knows it. The doorbell rings, he already has an idea who it may be, he peeps through the hole and to no surprise you're standing outside with the ingredients he requested you to buy for him. Hesitant, he reaches out for the handle but pulls away, but then a key unlocks the door. Shit, he forgot he gave you the spare. Standing there awkwardly as you open the door on your own. "Ohh.. hello there.." He waves, you eye him a suspicious look, "Already standing here but not opening the door? What a gentleman." You sarcastically comment, entering to his apartment. He fumbles his words trying to explain himself, but you've already walked past him. "No I— it wasn't- hey! wait for me!"
The two of you are busying yourselves around the kitchen, this time you were preparing a batch of cookies and cream filled donuts! Plain simple sugar cookies paired with the sweet delectable donuts filled with any flavour you could make with what you have. Despite there being an important task at hand, he couldn't stop staring at you, his mind wandering off to other things, just wanting to coat his frosting all over your face and stuff you with his cream— "Soobin, why don't you add decorations?" He almost dropped whatever he was holding as you called him. "Huh?? Deco.. rations..?" He repeats, "Yup, they taste good but the appeal is found in it's looks! That's the rage nowadays."
You take a pipe bag and cuts a small piece off it's tip, piping the black frost onto the freshly baked cookie, drawing a cute face into the cookie, taking closer inspection of it, Soobin is intrigued. "Oh, it's cute." "See? Told ya!" "But I can't really draw things like that.." Rolling your eyes, you forces him to take hold of the pipe bag and places another cookie Infront of him, "Try it!" Reluctant, but it wasnt like he had a choice. He attempts to copy the same thing you drew on your cookie, "O-Oh- whoops- ah! I-Its kinda going the other way— okay I'll continue!!" With your guidance and his clumsy hands, he created a messy monstrosity.
You both stare blankly at it. "Okay sorry, I believe you now. You really suck!" Soobin hums, a little hurt and discouraged. "Is there no room for improvement?" You shook your head, taking his hand in yours and slipping between his arms to aide him properly. "Well I don't how to teach someone the basic but just try to smoothly trace out the image you have in mind and.." He would've been listening well, taking note of every single piece of advice you had to give him, but after last night? No way.
Looking down at you like this gives him the clearest view of your cleavage from above, the small gap between your breasts is so alluring he just wants to bury his face in it and live there forever..
"Hahh.. Soobin..! Tone it down.." Having you on your knees before him, top pushed down your chest to have your tits bouncing out in the open, his cock slides between him with ease as he increases the speed, the soft skin rubs him off so good he's letting out estranged moans. "Oh- fuck.. please.. m' gonna cum.." he mutters so pathetically it sounds like he's crying, he's so close. The next thrust is getting ropes of cum to escape his poor pent up cock, coating your face and chest in sticky semen. "Soob.. I'm all dirty now.." you pout at him.
"Hmpfhh.." He whines at the thought, looking down at you again to stare at your chest, but something else catches his eye. A tent is bulging out of his pants, nearly grazing against your ass,"I'm hard?? Since when?- holy shit!-" Soobin pulls away nervously, you look at him confused with that same pout he imagined in his fantasy. "Sorry!- I just remember I had to do something I'm so sorry I'll be right back promise! O-Or you could even go back to your room- okay bye!" He had no time to further elaborate and rushed to his room, clearly flustered.
Well it had been over a week since that incident had took place, Soobin didn't even know if you realized it yourself or not, but either way he just couldn't look at you the same anymore. He's a total pervert, and he still hasn't come to terms with that fact. And what was even worse was that he couldn't stop, still his imagination ran wild for you, every single dirty thought crossed his mind and he could only think about doing those things to you.
He had been working alone in the kitchen due to your absence (just because he doesn't invite you over anymore) which makes him feel a bit lonely from the lack of company. But as he was preparing ingredients for the new batch of pastries, he remembers he ran out of milk and eggs. Last time he restocked was when you bought the ingredients for him. Could this be an opening for a conversation after days of silence? Maybe he didn't have the confidence to approach you , but of they were talking about something as simple as this then maybe— just maybe. It'll take your mind off things.
Soobin musters up the courage to knock at your door, "Hello? You home..?" But it's quite, he takes out the keys of your apartment (you also gave him a spare!) and contemplates if he should enter or not. He feels like an asshole for this but he's also desperate. And so he twists the key and unlocks the door slowly, the lights are dimmed, only the light from the hallway opened. "She must be resting.." he thought to himself, but the light emitting from your room didn't convince him otherwise. Rehearsing what he had to say to you until he got closer to your room. "Hey- Hi!- sorry it's been a while but I just wanted to ask you something- no no, that's pathetic.."
Soobin pats his cheeks as he's finally near your door, taking a deep breath before opening the door. His gaze focused on the ground before turning up to look at you. "Hey, do you think you could help me buy ingredients?—"
The next moment is spent in silence, his jaw dropped, eyes popping out of their sockets, he caught you in a very vulnerable state. And by vulnerable- it's the sight of two of your fingers inside you with a vibrator pressed to your clit kind of vulnerable. He stands there in disbelief, registering the sight Infront of him. His heart thumps dangerously fast, he could feel his pulse beating in all areas, his throat went dry.
"Soobin..?" You notice him standing there and purposely push your fingers deeper, moaning at the feeling of being stuffed, but it doesn't stop you, locking eyes with Soobin as you turn the setting of your toy a little higher to push you closer to your edge. Looking so fucked out and exhausted, your eyes laid on his dick, seeing it bulge through the thin fabric of his sweats.
And those dirty thoughts he had of you, none of them could beat this, after months of suppressing his desires for you he can't just contain them this time, he needed to see more, he needed to touch you more, finally doing things that he was so scared of. But instead he turns around, this wasn't good— you were just friends! Until he had been eyeing you.. but still, it's wrong to take advantage of a people just because of the state their in.
"I am so sorry! I didn't knock first! I entered without permission! I'll never do it again so I'll be seeing my way out! Thank you for having me.." Once he announces that he's leaving, you whine, using your strength to get up and pull your fingers out. "Just wait a moment!" But soobins already sprinting down your hall, not wanting to communicate any longer. "Soobin!" You call out his name and chase after him with weak legs. Just before he can make it out the door, you reach out to grab his wrist but fail, changing the target to the hem of his shirt and you catch him, pulling him back to you as the two of you stumble and fall into the couch.
"And where do you think you're going? Hm?" He's laying between your legs, if he was wearing clothes then he'd feel how wet you were, Soobin turns around in shame. "Well-" "Were you gonna go back to your room to masturbate? Jerk off to that image of me?- I've had enough! If you're gonna do something don't tease me and do it on your own.. I'm right here!" Soobin shook his head. "Wait slow down, what are you even talking about.."
You were guiding him on how to draw, giving basic tips and simple instructions, yet he wasn't listening to any of it, suddenly you got pinned closer to the counter, soobin starts to "subtly" ruts his erection against you, earning a soft whine that escaped your lips. "Just what are you doing??" You question, but he's deep too into his fantasy to even respond, and damn he's really stiff, and just by the outline of his bulge you could tell he's really big. Soobin had deceived you into thinking he was pure and innocent. He pulls away stuttering just when you decided you want more. A complaint tried to rise out of you but it's too late, he's off to his room, leaving you there unfulfilled and needing more.
"What?! So you felt it..?" Soobin's cheeks are on fire, staring at you wide-eyed like a giant puppy. "Was I not suppose to? Wow, you really are a genius, fantasizing about a girl then thinking you could get away with it." You scoff, it fuels his embarrassment further and that's the reaction you were hoping for. "S-Sorry.. something came over me, I'm so sorry for being indecent, I'll try and earn back your trust if you'd let me, I still wanna continue working as partners!"
He looked genuinely sorry, and apologetic. But that wasn't what you were searching for. Okay, maybe to others this might've been a dick move, but you couldn't care less, you've been fantasizing about your cute neighbor aswell since he came. "What's there to apologize for? I didn't ask for your sorry." You grab his shirt and pull him closer, eye to eye with him as your foreheads touched, wrapping your legs around his waist to lock the two of you together tight.
"Actually I take it back, you do need to say sorry.." your hand trails down to his sweats, palming the obvious tent straining his pants, soobin swore under his breath, watching intently as you touched him however you pleased. His dick is painfully hard, waiting to be freed from his pants already, but you weren't that easy. Your palm pushes down on the bulge and rubs in a circular motion with just enough pressure to drive him crazy.
"cockblocking me for weeks without making a move, then getting off to the thought of me whenever you want.. I do deserve an apology." Soobin bites down on his lip, it's hard to concentrate on your words when your teasing his stiff cock. "But.. there is something else you could do for me that's better." You lock eyes with him again, his adams apple bobs, gulping before he spoke. "And what may that be..?" Soobin questions, "Easy, sex."
"Fuck, I'm not sure of it will even fit—" you shush him, placing your finger over his lips, the tip of his cock is parting your soaked cunt, but as soon as you make the effort to push it in, it kept slipping. The size difference between you two was obvious, so to take Soobins length for the first time was a challenge. "Maybe we should change the position??-" he suggests, but you turn it down.
"Oh could you shut up for once? If it wasn't for your massive cock, we wouldn't be in this situation." Your comment makes him flustered, but also sulky. He ran his hand through his hair, "Hmph, I wouldn't say "massive" was the word." Although this was frustrating, this predicament was such a turn on, the tip nudges against your clit everytime you fail, always daring to enter just for it0 to tease you and slip off.
You finally had enough and pinned Soobin down, he looks at you a little stunned since it was unexpected, but he steadies you, holding your hips as you straddled his lap to get into a good position, "This stupid fucking!—" After numerous failed attempts, you position the tip in your entrance and slam yourself down on him impatiently, although you weren't expecting it to go in this time, taking in half his length inside you. "Fuckk.." Your eyes roll to the back of your head, for a second you let yourself go, Soobin lets out the loudest whine, wow, he's a sucker for pussy. "Ahn.. be gentle.. I almost came.." he requests, his hand caresses your waist, it's hard to move when your pussy is sucking him in so tight, but you still make an effort to do so.
"Ugh, of course I'd have to be the one doing the work, poor binnie, got blessed with such a huge cock but doesn't know how to even use it." You taunt and sink yourself further into him, the more you take, the more he falls apart, he's completely helpless underneath you, but he wouldn't have it any other way. "Princess.. faster please.." and you heed to his request, bouncing on his dick a little faster, helping the slick spread around and making it easier to move. "Hm? Like that binnie?" He nods, his eyes shut tight as he lets himself and relaxes under your control. You tug at his hair and his eyes open again, looking back at yours glossy and helpless. "Words, love." He's quick to respond. "Y-Yes.. it.. feels good!"
Pathetic, was the best word to describe him at the moment, he looked like he wanted to make an effort to takes things another step but was too shy, that's how he always was. But you don't mind taking initiative, it's fun to control him. Without any warning beforehand, you lift yourself off his length entirely just as he was enjoying himself. His whines at the loss of warmth. "Hm, maybe you don't deserve my pussy after all. Right?" He shook his head vigorously while frowning. "No! Please no! I've been good.. haven't I?" Your small hand wraps around his shaft, not even fully covering it, you stroke him fast, nearing him to the edge, pre-cum oozing out his pretty slit. "Not really, my hand seems to be doing just fine for you.." he whines, bucking his hips up to meet your hand, so you slow it down. "W-Why??" "You deserve to be punished, it's only fair right? You're lucky I'm even touching you right now, show some gratitude." And too your surprise, he takes your joke as an order. "m' sorry.. thank you for touching me princess.. your pussy and hand feels so good! You're the best!" You start to stroke him a little more faster and he's murmuring under his breath. "Thank you.. aughh.. thankyouthankyouthankyou—" his climax is getting closer, you could tell by the way his face scrunches up, he's saving himself for your pussy. "Picky slut.."
You let go of his cock, but he has no time to mourn the loss of it as you dealt a large strike to his poor strained dick, making his body jolt in return and spurt out a little bit of his load. "Ahhn!" He cried out, you move back and bend down to his cock, adjusting the length to your mouth and circling your tongue on the underside of his tip, he's crying, tears streaming down his eyes as you bully his strained, hard, edged cock. Licking the slit and tasting it's saltiness, he wants to come so bad. "Gonna give in? Or are you still wanting for my pussy again?" "Ahnn.. I-I.. m' waiting for you.." he whines. "Good boy, then hold it in." You take only the tip in your mouth, stroking the rest of his length using your hand. He's trying so hard not to squirm but it felt so good, he was so close.. "ugh! I can't hold it anymore! please princess gon' come!!-" you pull his dick out of your mouth with a small pop and quickly slid it back inside you, returning him the warmth he desperately needed.
"Needy whore.. I barely even started and you're already gonna come? So pathetic, go ahead, fill me then." Soobin cries and nods, thrusting up inside you till, battering your pussy with his huge cock, your insides felt so good, warm and tight more than he imagined, his tip brushes against your g-spot but not exactly hitting it either, panting like a dog and using you like some fucktoy till he was falling over the edge, body sparking up in that familiar burning sensation as the knot in his stomach comes undone, snapping what's left of his sanity, you can feel him spurting ropes of cum inside you, painting your tight gummy walls white with his seed.
He's spent, lying against you as he pulled his cock out, semi-hard and covered in his own filth. Your pussy gushes out the rest of his cum, dripping down your soaked cunt that had yet to finish, he's staring at it so embarrassed yet proud he was able to have your cunt twitching around him. "Is that the most you can do?" You say, still exhausted but you knew it wasn't over yet. Soobin pouts and shakes his head. "No- more, I can take more..!" You caresses his cheek and smirk, "Of course you can love, you'll make sure to satisfy me too this time right?" He weakly nods and you press a kiss to his cheek. "Good boy.."
This was gonna be a long night.
A few months had passed by and you finally opened a small pastry shop with Soobin! Your estimated growth had been past your expectations and everyone loved the desserts you sold at your shop! Soobin was proud of was you've accomplished, now that he's achieved his dream and grown closer to you than ever before. There was nothing else he could've asked for!
Actually there was one thing, maybe you could stop getting him hard during work hours, makes it a hassle to jerk off on shift all the time.. but it doesn't sound all too bad either.
#txt#txt x reader#soobin smut#sub!txt#soobin hard thoughts#soobin x reader#txt soobin#txt imagines#txt hard thoughts#txt hard hours#soobin hard hours#txt smut
371 notes
·
View notes
Text
Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 6
(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])
(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])
billy drives to westview again, I guess flying right now feels weird while he's so conflicted about his own witchy nature. and who boarded up agatha's door? were the neighbors afraid some other unspeakable horror was going to jump out of the house?
we get another good view of agatha's grave, with all the purple flowers and mushrooms rio grew for her
agnes' bike and señor scratchy's cage (I hope that fluffer bunny's okay somewhere)
NOT HELPING, AGATHA. did she just run down to the basement so she could do her 'it's britney bitch' face? (she does look like britney here)
sure, sure, you'll get your brooch back and then you'll be on your merry way doing ghostly shit with no regrets whatsoever. it's not like you've been following billy around like a lost puppy or anything
agatha sees billy drawing the circle and is all posture again, a big slice of "I'm cooler than you and you don't scare me little kid" with a side of "ooooh are we doing magic?? I love magic lemme see lemme see!"
she's truly embarrassing
you're the one with a buttload of black candles in your basement agatha who do you think you're mocking
a pentacle, the symbol of our coven surrounding him. wherever you are, a coven there shall be.
oooh book through the heart! we get it, symbolism.
agatha sees the brooch and gives a deep relieved sigh, immediately followed by more bullshit. JUST TELL HIM THAT'S YOUR SON'S BROOCH AND IT'S IMPORTANT, YOU USELESS DISASTER. JUST OPEN UP FOR ONCE.
the spell is vade (not valia) a lucem, relinque terram, noli esse phantasma. go to the light, leave the earth, don't be a ghost (bit on the nose.)
what's wrong agatha, not feeling so confident all of a sudden?
you know the drill by now, she won't go quietly. so she sneers.
ooh we're appealing to his better nature now? after your many 'never apologize for murder' lessons?
idk man, it's almost as if the people you keep pushing away will eventually get tired of your bullshit. it's almost as if billy here, the kid you supposedly care a lot about, just went through a terrible experience and could really need a wise mentor right now - instead of whatever you're doing.
and now we're begging. better make a decision there agatha, you're starting to fade away!
sure, that will help. great plan agatha, masterful gambit, turning into a ghost and losing even more of your agency
there you go. it only took this poor wretch nine episodes, killing three people, scaring away forever the love of her life, thoroughly traumatizing a kid and somehow losing her entire body to express ONE honest, uncensored feeling.
it's the little steps.
heartwarming: local 350 year old experiences for the first time the mortifying ordeal of being known.
another thing billy and agatha have in common is how good they are at reading people. with billy it's a natural talent (comes with being a mind reader) that he's still learning how to use, he can read people but doesn't know how to interpret what he finds yet, hence the whole trials fiasco.
with agatha, he's been trying to reconcile his instincts with facts and logic. on a surface level he shouldn't trust agatha at all, indeed she's the last person anyone should trust. but since he was that kid who liked hanging out at agnes' house, billy guessed something else in agatha, a vulnerability behind all the darkness that he's been (awkwardly) trying to bring to the surface.
why? I think it's for the same reason agatha has been reaching out to him: because they're so similar. billy wants to reconcile agatha's two natures because he wants to do the same for himself. he is the son of the witch who tortured westview, he has all this scary power. there is a darkness in him that he doesn't know how to deal with, but maybe, if agatha is redeemed, there is hope for himself too.
in other words, these two are kindred spirits (spiritual mother/son, mentor/mentee, whatever you want to call it) who recognize each other and instinctively want to stick to together, even though it's a bad, bad idea.
(I cannot believe it took agatha turning into a ghost to finally get a manicure for her nasty witchy nails)
and this is all it took to win billy over, that's how ready and eager he was to believe agatha has a heart! the moment he realizes that of course agatha loved nicholas! of course she's devastated after losing him! he steps back and dries a tear, moved. for the first time he sees agatha's pain and, the good kid he is, he's earnest to give her sympathy and comfort. he's still too young to fully understand what agatha has been trough, but he doesn't need to. he just needs to care and be there for her, and that's enough, that makes all the difference.
the salemites taught agatha that she cannot trust others, that if she shows who she really is people will hate her and hurt her. when nicky died she tried all she could to exorcise that devastating pain, except asking for help. she never allowed someone to give her even the most basic forms of comfort, no hugs, no crying on someone's shoulder, no 'I'm sorry this happened to you'. no 'I'm here for you, if you need anything'. no 'I know it feels like that, but I promise it wasn't your fault.'
agatha set out to mold and raise billy as another version of herself, but what she got instead is a kid who, just like nicky, is simply glad to love her back. yes, people will leave you if you keep pushing them away, but the opposite is also true: if you stick by and make an effort, no matter how many mistakes you make, most people will recognize what you're doing and respond in kind. it sucks that agatha can do that so rarely and with so much difficulty. but it happens sometimes, even to her.
I've talked about how a "coven two" is never sustainable on the long run, how you cannot just have one person be your whole world. humans, social animals we are, simply need a community. but for now it's a start, it's agatha cautiously letting herself be around another person again. and oh god she's going to be such a bad influence on this poor kid. I'm glad *he* has other people in his life, at least.
she's like, faIR WArNiNG
ookay drama llama. these two gays, I swear. already trying to outdrama each other.
she's all proud!! look at her boy paying homage to the dead and expressing his grief like a champ! meanwhile I'm sitting here like guys, guys, you cannot just write their names on the floor and call it a day, have you CHECKED if you have to break the news to their loved ones?! did sharon have children? did alice have friends or a partner that are looking for her right now?!?!!?!?! please make ONE phone call I beg you! is there an ADULTIER ADULT in the room, you CANNOT LEAVE THESE TWO IN CHARGE
and off they go, merrily causing chaos and mayhem. if I had to guess what happens next, agatha is going to love and help and teach that kid while making soooo many mistakes and causing soooo much emotional damage, and also very much try to manipulate him into giving her a new body, because lbr, this asshole didn't get herself close to the one person on earth who can do that by pure accident. all immaturity and ulterior motives aside, agatha is taking baby steps in the right direction and I'm SEATED for it.
AND WE'RE DONE. I cannot believe I got to the end of this?!!?! thank you from the bottom of my black heart to all the peeps who reached out and encouraged me, thank you for all your likes and reblogs and engagement, and special thanks to @idkbroletssee, @yodladi-yodlada, @aquaaquila, @onceuponalegendbg, @vinspiration-book, @sallysetonagathario, @2-the-moon-and-2-saturn, @yourlocalegotisticalqueerishere, @isagrimorie, @jojobobapalooza, @netellie, @nutella-icecream, @talysalankil, @ragnarockz, @misschanandlerbong25, @westviews-nosiest, @liminal-smith, @kendrysaneela, @whogirl42, @witchtwig, @nerdybeachbum299, @bogcrowe, @the-silence-in-between, @farminglesbian, @lazyreinelle @fantasticvoidnerdshoe, @ofutopia, I'm sure I'm forgetting many but I promise I see you all!
Last but not least, big, grateful thanks to @crybabyheathen for always messaging me and forcing me out of my shell and encouraging much needed human interaction 😉. And lots of love to @april-december, don't tell anyone but I look forward to your comments the most, it truly means the world that you appreciate and engage with my posts like you've been doing.
Happy new year, everybody!
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬 || 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/08e478d5c81a8a8570aed82d11f8117e/d5544f9f44250c10-d1/s540x810/58ba596f12bee793887da11a80daba4d6dac3471.jpg)
part one: here || part two: money power glory
Summary_when Coriolanus promised to split the plinth prize with his best friend, he didn’t knew that would be enough reason for Dr. Gaul to transform you into an experiment.
Warnings_bff to enemies, asshole Coryo, violence, mutations, angst, fluff.
Note_ im back to my coriolanus shit, and nothing just listen to valley of the dolls and girl
♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)
_________________________________________
It was a dry fall day when Coriolanus and his family ran out of cabbage and potatoes. He was to go to Pluribus Bell and trade some belongings for food. He was a kid, and he had been struggling for a very long time now. The Capitol was slowly making its way back to what it was before the war, but it was taking longer than expected.
Tigris was out, trying to trade some of the gold earrings from Grandma’am for wood, for the upcoming winter.
At the rough age of twelve, Coriolanus Snow had been growing impatient to get older, get into University, and give his family a better life. He already knew how to disguise his lack of wealth and how to fit in with his classmates. Coriolanus had no friends, just people to blend in.
He carefully closed the door from Pluribus’ place when someone opened the door from inside, pulling him backward, and making him trip.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry- Coriolanus Snow?” He heard a soft female voice and when he stood up, he finally saw you.
“Y/n?…” He grew worried, wondering if any other classmates were around, hoping to be wrong, as he didn’t want to be seen.
“Hi…” you awkwardly said.
Coriolanus was indifferent to you. He disliked how he often heard you gossiping with your friends. He disliked how you always participated in debates and readings, finding it annoying. And most important, he knew you were born capitol but your family was once District 1 generations ago. You were no daughter of elite members.
“What are you doing here?” The boy asked.
You weren’t expecting to see him there. Pluribus’ customers were always… poor people, hungry. So when you saw the brown bag with two cabbages and some potatoes in Coriolanus’ bag, you didn’t even need to question.
“I come here to trade my mother’s designs for food.” Coriolanus never thought you were in a situation similar to him.
“My father served in the war, he got injured and couldn’t keep working, and my mother quit her job to take care of him. We don’t have much but we are surviving…” you added shamelessly, Coriolanus was jealous that you weren’t afraid of revealing the truth, something he couldn’t.
“I won’t tell anyone I saw you here, Coriolanus. If that’s what you want” you added after seeing him judging you quietly, giving a cold look. You had the idea of him being serious and a young man of few words, no doubt he was.
“Can I trust you?” He asked, thinking he sounded so dumb.
“I have no reason to spread details of your life. So yes, you can trust me…”
“Okay…”
“I live on the Corso…” you said and without thinking, Coriolanus smiled more than he should have.
“Me too!” His excited tone made you feel relieved.
“Can you imagine both of us living in the same place?” You asked cheerfully. Coriolanus doubted it.
“I don’t think so…”
Oh but how mistaken was he? Not only do you two live on the Corso, but you also live in the same building. He had the penthouse and your parents owned the floor below.
Coriolanus was taken aback by how calm and excited you were as you showed him your house.
The boy learned quickly that your family was doing better than his. You had a lot of things, your room had exotic wallpapers, and a lamp made of feathers was even affordable.
For the first time, Coriolanus felt like he could actually enjoy meeting someone new. Even better if it was in his safe space, his home, and the source of his identity.
And that’s how you turned out to be the only person Coriolanus allowed to know about his situation.
…
Exactly five years later, Coriolanus was coming back from the market where he had traded a watch for some black dressing pants. Even though the Plinth Prize had been only announced two days ago, Coriolanus was already thinking about clothing for the occasion. He was out of breath by the time he hit your floor. And he was not going to stop by your place but he grew curious when he saw you tending a big piece of dark grey crinkled fabric. You had your long hair curled up, wearing slippers, a nightgown, and a robe.
He smiled, wondering how important could that fabric be to not acknowledge him.
“What you got there?” You quickly looked up, slightly embarrassed that Coriolanus caught you in your pajamas.
“I know it’s early, but my mom and I had an idea for a set. In case you know-“ you feel like you sound very narcissistic, hinting that you could possibly win the Plinth prize. Coriolanus and you were exceptional in school. And the only “friends” you could count were Clemensia, Festus, and Sejanus, although they were slightly behind you and the blonde.
“I had the same idea,” Coriolanus said, walking closer, showing you the black pants in his arm.
You smile at him, feeling reassured that you both thought the same. You knew the young man judged you once. But now, he had no reason to. Or so you believed.
He was very close to turning eighteen in the first months of the approaching year, you had also thought about buying him a present.
“Come inside. I need to tell you something…” he nodded, but gulped, thinking the worst.
You shut the door and Coriolanus noticed it smelled sweet.
“Oh, I’m baking something… I would like to share it with you and your family” The boy blushed at you noticing how hungry he was and also because it was very kind of you to share given the circumstances.
“You don’t have to, y/n”
“But I want to.…” he rolled his eyes, chuckling, tenderly accepting your good intentions.
“I don’t have anything to give you back. But we made a promise. Remember?” You nod, smiling softly at him.
Coriolanus is your best friend. Although Clemensia, Festus, and even Arachne were close friends, no one compared to Coryo.
“I do, but…”
“No, y/n. No matter what, we are splitting the prize. Both of us are going to university together.” He seriously said.
In the most inconvenient way, Coriolanus had found an ally. He knew most of his classmates since he was a little child, but after getting to know you, he understood it wasn’t the same. He was grateful for having you.
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Sit…” Coriolanus walked towards your kitchen table. He realized your parents were gone. Which made him wonder where were they.
The place smelled like corn syrup and roses. Deep down, probably those two were his favorite things. He craved sweet things and the roses reminded him of his mother and her powder.
“So?…” he inquired, you were a little busy placing some towels on the table.
“My mother found a job in a fabric store, in a couple of weeks she’ll be able to refer Tigris. She’ll be able to leave the work with Fabricia” his eyes went wide, a smile immediately growing on his face.
“And not only that. My father accepted to work as a secretary in the offices of the Capitol’s congress” he couldn’t be jealous of the success of your parents when they were offering to help Tigris. He went up to give you a hug.
“That’s great news, dear” you hugged him back. He smelled like cedar and roses. You remembered the flowers his grandmother sent the day before.
“If things go right. My father could get us a job there after the Academy. And we’d have more money to pay the university’s tuition” he nodded, unconsciously hiding his face in your neck. The closure made you blush, it wasn’t like you and the boy hugged very often. But you appreciated it.
“I have faith we’ll have a bright future, Coryo. I really do”
“Thank you, for everything you and your family have done,” the blonde said.
“You are like family too. It’s nothing…” you reply, breaking the hug to check at the oven.
Coriolanus eyes you. He catches the smell of your hair, patchouli, and herbs. He smiles, looking at your clean face and old nightgown. He can’t deny you’ve grown into a gorgeous woman. But he blocks the thoughts from flowing further.
“I made bread pudding.” You knew it was his favorite.
And his smile only grew. When Tigris had the chance to steal from Fabricia and his waste, she made a classical bread pudding. But you were able to do a more sophisticated one. With cherry blossom powder that your mother had. The bread was more wet and less like fudge. Coriolanus loved it ever since he tried back two years during the holidays.
“I’m really liking this day” he admits, making you chuckle as you place the dessert literally in his face.
…
Reaping day wasn’t your favorite. You didn’t hate the districts but you didn’t like how they tried to destroy the Capitol. Nonetheless, the Hunger Games weren’t part of your fond morals. Having the privilege of being a mentor for the first time ever in the history of the games, wasn’t as exciting as it sounded. The only good thing is that it would lead to being closer to knowing who won the Plinth prize.
Months had passed and the day had finally arrived. You slipped into the two-piece set your mother made for you. A blazer and a long circle skirt in dark grey. An old pair of black boots that belonged to your grandmother and were in excellent condition, the leather felt nice and the heels added elegance to your outfit.
You never felt intimidated by not being part of the elite and being considered “poor” and it tore you to see Coriolanus feel like he wasn’t enough. Like the grate was of his last name had to loosen power.
So when you called him through the phone to see if he was ready, he said you should go first, showing a display of a little panic attack because Tigris hadn’t returned with the shirt he was to wear.
As much as you protested and said you would wait for him, he made you leave saying you couldn’t be late.
So you did.
When you stepped out of the building, you encountered Persephone, Coriolanus’ neighbor. The blonde had said once that Persephone and Clemensia were probably the prettiest girls from class. Which made you feel terrible but you ignored it from the moment it happened.
“Hey… Are you ready for today?” She asked.
“Yes… totally” You weren’t happy, to be honest, but you showed her your best smile.
“Why is Coriolanus not with you? He’s always attached to you…” the comment makes you smile nervously. Although you knew most of your classmates and had literally grown up along them, you never knew what kind of assimilation they had about you and Coriolanus.
“Oh, he woke up late. I wanted to wait for him, but he literally obliged me to go on” Persephone giggled, urging you to cross the street.
“That boy is head over heels for you…”
“Oh my goodness, Persephone. That’s not true…” she laughs, her lilac makeup and crimson lips making her look even more pretty.
“Trust me, y/n… There are even bets on the year you two will tie the knot!” Her comment makes you so embarrassed.
“We’re here!” You say changing the subject.
Heavensbee Hall is full of students and faculty. A lot of them say to you because it wasn’t a secret that your friendly demeanor and good grades made you more popular than Persephone.
When make it to the talk with Felix, Festus, and Arachne, you spot Clemensia entering the event along with Coriolanus.
At first glance, you tried to ignore the mixed feelings you caught after Persephone’s comments and seeing the man you quietly doted on the girl he considered the most beautiful.
“That can’t be y/n y/l/n! That’s a model!” you finally turn when you hear Clemmie, which makes you smile shyly.
Coriolanus finally spots you and he gulps. Every day, he saw you wearing opaque tones. He knew you craved vivid colors and exotic makeup, your mother was an unemployed fashion designer after all. Having the chance to wear elegant clothes and highlighting your skin with splotches of berry colors was a sight for Coriolanus. His hands felt sweaty and numb, a familiar feeling he started developing whenever you were close.
He walked straight towards you, taking a last sip of the posca he disliked. You smile at him, accommodating the rosebud attached to his heart. The action caught the attention of all your classmates and friends, who quietly gossiped or exchanged looks.
“That’s a gorgeous shirt, Coryo” he smiled.
“Tigris and your mother are my saviors” he whispered in your ear, which sent shivers to you.
You and your friends are called out to take a seat as the reaping is about to start. You end up seated between Coriolanus and Sejanus. And suddenly you find yourself lost in your thoughts, wondering who you would be mentoring. It’s all you could truly think about since you woke up. But suddenly, Coriolanus makes you come back to life.
“It’s going to be okay…” he said to which you replied with a little smile.
“By the way, you look very pretty…” your heart pounds as he whispers in your ear for the second time. Your smile grows along the blush creeping on your face.
“Really?” You feel so stupid after asking that. You didn’t want him to think you needed validation.
“Every day you look pretty, but I rarely see you with color in your face” he admits and it sends you to death the fact that he proceeded to grab your hand and give it a squeeze.
He didn’t know why he did that, but it felt right.
Something weird happened, you both felt a spark.
…
Watching kids fighting for their lives in the most gruesome way wasn’t appealing. Your eyes are on the little girl from District 8, your tribute; Wovey. The last time you saw her in the zoo before the games started, she made you cry so badly. She was just a little girl and the fact that she had smiled at you, saying how beautiful your dress was, made you understand every word Sejanus said.
The districts deserved to pay? Yes. But why not make them pay extra taxes, or limit their supplies? Why do you have to scavenge food for a little girl who is likely to die?
Sejanus had walked out after seeing what happened to his tribute. The bloodbath had been disgusting to watch. And as the hours pass as you sit along Coriolanus and other classmates watching your tributes, the weight of the events that happened on the previous days hit you. The moment you saw the rainbow-ruffled skirt from Lucy Gray Baird, you knew it would mark a before and after.
It was like her appearance in Coriolanus’ life had worsened everything for everyone surrounding him. First was Arachne, then Clemensia, whose image still haunted you with the scales and yellow eyes. Then the rebel bombing. It had been a long time since felt fear. You felt alone because you protected Wovey. But nobody protected you. The blurred sight of Coriolanus clinging to the ruffles of Lucy Gray’s skirt and calling for her as the medics took him away was very present.
You look down at your lap, the skirt of the uniform was on, but not the pants, since your leg was still bandaged from the burns you suffered the day of the bombing.
There’s a drift between you and Coriolanus since the day of the reaping. He appeared at the zoo and at night told you it wasn’t planned, he practically ignored you whenever he visited Lucy Gray but squeezed your hand the day of Arachne’s funeral. He confided to you what happened with Clemensia but refused to console you when she appeared in the hospital while you took care of Coriolanus.
The only good thing is that your parents were making a name. They were getting popular and you loved seeing them happy. Unfortunately, just as they were finding happiness, you were losing it.
You kept losing friend after friend. Clemensia ignored you moments before the games started. Arachne was gone, and Sejanus looked beyond depressed. And Coriolanus was falling for District scum.
How could he even inquire if the songbird was almost Capitol during the interviews?
Maybe you were a hypocrite for claiming Sejanus as a friend, who once was District and called it his home. But you despised Lucy Gray for wearing the clothes and makeup you craved, for being naturally charming and unconsciously revolving around most of your problems.
You have been quiet for hours, only having eyes for little Wovey.
Coriolanus glances at you frequently. And he can see the sad look on your face. He couldn’t ignore you had been changed since the reaping. The happy and positive girl he knew was slowly morphing into some lost panicked mentor.
The moment the games started, Coriolanus realized how hard it was for you to look after Wovey, one of the youngest tributes he had seen. The guilt of being such a bad friend started rubbing him in the wrong way.
Which is why he found himself constantly looking at you to see how you were doing.
But when he looks back, you’re gone. Most of the people watching the first day are gone.
It’s just Dr. Gaul telling him Sejanus entering the arena.
…
The tension was escalating. Coriolanus couldn’t sleep, not even with the cold shower that resulted nice for the heat. All he could think was about Sejanus and him running for their lives. He killed a boy. There was blood on his hands. He desperately called you but you didn’t answer. He went to bed thinking of Lucy Gray hiding in the arena and you practically ignoring him. And just when he was about to doze off with the memory of the kiss Lucy Gray gave him, his eyes opened abruptly.
He remembered the promise you two made.
When he walked back to Heavensbee Hall for the second day of the games, he could hear Lucky Flickerman giving the broadcast. He went straight to you, firstly noticing how you caressed your knuckles, showing that you were anxious.
“Could you sleep?” He asked, taking a seat beside you. You glanced at him, only to bow your head, back to your knuckles.
“I took some pills…” he frowned, confused.
“Pills?…”
“It’s nothing, Coryo. Just melatonin pills, to help me sleep well.” He nodded, not fully convinced.
“I’m sorry for being… distant,” he said, to which you shrugged, crossing your arms.
“It’s okay. We all have acquired different problems since the reaping. You have just been busy with your rainbow girl” Your tone distilled bitterness when you mentioned Lucy Gray, which didn’t go unnoticed by Coriolanus.
“When one of the two of us wins, it’ll be like before, but better.” he knew it wouldn’t.
“It’ll never be the same. Arachne is gone, Clemesia out of herself, Sejanus defying Gaul, the Ring twins' death… You’re already changing” he quickly took your hand, ignoring the way some people could be looking at him.
“I’m not. We’re family… you’re special. And I will always fight for you, y/n” his comment lit a fire inside you. You give him a little smile. But he knows you’re still blue.
Right when he was closer to admitting he had feelings for you, Lucy Gray appeared, withdrawing any plan he could have. And now he was confused about you.
Perhaps you only saw him as your best friend. Which is why he didn’t suppress the emotions Lucy Gray made him feel.
…
No-no, no, no, no, no… NO!
Every mentor and attendant in Heavensbee Hall heard you whisper until you literally screamed. The little Wovey had drank the water with poison. Tears immediately swelled in your eyes and you stood up, splashing the room with sorrow.
Even Capitol people felt emotional about the little girl slowly dying unbeknownst to her. Even Livia Cardew looked at you with empathy when you walked past her.
Even Clemensia, briefly looked at Coriolanus silently asking if she should go to follow you, but he told her he was going.
And he did. He followed you outside the room, finding you on one of the stairs leading to another hallway. Your hands covered your face, but he could hear you sobbing.
You felt terrible. You knew Wovey was likely to die, but that didn’t stop the pain. Adding all the strong emotions you’ve dealt with in the past days made you explode.
You just wanted your best friend. Regardless of his unrequited feelings, you needed him.
And he magically appeared.
When you wiped your eyes, he approached you. He took a seat beside you and caressed your shoulder.
“You’re not okay.” He said, to which you shook your head.
“I’m feeling the same as you. Only that I’m a crier and you’re not…” Coriolanus briefly smiled, appreciating your profile.
He faced the woman who knew all of him. The only woman that could ever understand him. And the only one who would care for him enough aside from his family.
“You were closer to Arachne than me. With Clemensia too. And your tribute was closer to being a baby again than she was to become a teenager…” new tears poured down and Coriolanus cursed himself for making you cry again.
“Is she finally gone?…” he nodded at you.
“You have to win, Coryo. You must win… This suffering must be worth it for one of us at least”
“If I win, you’re also in. We said it the day the prize was announced. We’re in this together…” Once again, he grabbed your hand again. And just when he was about to move away because you weren’t reciprocating the touch, you caressed his fingers, interlocking your hand with his.
“Lately I’ve been missing you a lot…” you confessed and it nearly made him blush.
“Why?…” it was dumb but he needed to hear something, he needed to comprehend.
“Well…. Because I need you, Coriolanus” his heart thumping and shaky hands prevented him from doing something stupid, but he offered you a lovely smile that you reciprocated.
He was about to say… “I need you too, y/n. Let me kiss you so I can accept whatever I feel for Lucy Gray is a whim”.
But he couldn’t. Because Festus appeared, looking for you two.
“Dr. Gaul wants you two back…” he said.
“Thanks, Festus” you thanked him.
And all the way to the room of commands, Coriolanus held your hand.
When the snakes landed on the arena of the games, Coriolanus stood up. When Lucy Gray was officially the winner, he went running to Tigris. But when he spun to hug you, he didn’t contain.
He grabbed your face and leaned to kiss you. The crowd cheered even harder, believing you two would officially begin a romance after years of uncertainty. You kissed him back, savoring the moment and feeling glad you didn’t give up on him.
“We won, y/n.” He whispered in your lips.
“We won, Coryo” You smiled, out of breath, and kissed him again.
…
His brain wasn’t thinking clearly. Coriolanus had messed up everything. He was being punished for his lies. Serving as a peacekeeper and leaving the Capitol was one thing. But for 20 years?
Perhaps he could follow Lucy Gray to District 12, just to see how was she. But 20 years was too long… especially when you were the woman he intended to marry one day.
He could say goodbye to his place in the University, he could say goodbye to paying the tax of his home. And he certainly could say goodbye to you.
But his biggest fear was that he slipped out you had the idea of the rat poison. Coriolanus was aware you said it vaguely, and he never told you he actually cheated.
As he walked out of Highbottom’s office, completely downcast, wondering how he would break down the news.
“Hey… Are you okay?” His nervousness grew as he watched you walk escorted by two peacekeepers.
“What are you doing?” You shrugged.
“Dr. Gaul wants to see me…” Coriolanus frowned. Was the lunatic going to punish you?
“And you? What are you doing here?” he bit his tongue. He couldn’t tell you yet. But probably it would be worse to wait and tell you in the morning, just when he was supposed to leave for the districts.
“The dean… he wanted to talk to me about the disbursement of the prize”
The guilt started killing him the moment you smiled at him. You leaned, stepped on your tiptoes, and gave him a gentle peck.
It took him by surprise, but caressed your cheeks and kissed you back.
“I’ll see you at home?….” He nodded, pressing his forehead with yours, knowing he probably wouldn’t see you again. His eyes watered and he tried to stop time.
But it was inevitable because you gave him one last smile and you passed by him, followed by the peacekeepers.
Chills assaulted him, but he thought everything was going to be okay. At least for you.
…
For a couple of days, he was able to forget about you. But soon when Sejanus asked how were, the guilt felt like a bucket of ice blocks falling all over him.
He lied, saying you were okay. But Lucy Gray knew he wasn’t being truthful. Coriolanus confessed to her. The songbird found it very hard to admit that Coriolanus’ true love was you. Perhaps he followed her to her home, he was making her happy. But the blonde was Capitol, he would always prefer his people and his girl.
“You have waited too long, darling. Please call her and at least apologize” she said throwing some rocks at the lake in front of them.
“She’s probably mad at me…”
“More the reason to fight for her” Coriolanus glanced at her confused. But Lucy Gray rolled her eyes playfully.
“Look…” she reached for a purple flower. She cut it and showed it to Coriolanus.
“From what I’ve heard of y/n… is that she is important. You said once she’s your best friend. Think of her like this flower, which is a hydrangea. They have medicinal properties and they are very pretty… but they’re delicate. So I think you would prefer to keep her nurtured. Because she’s special…” Coriolanus sighed.
He couldn’t say to Lucy Gray he was scared of losing you because it would mean that all he did the moment he bribed the secretary of the military deferment wasn’t worth it. He came to the twelve because he wanted to be with Lucy Gray, but he had some unresolved feelings for you.
It was so confusing.
“I’ll call her tomorrow during my break…” Lucy Gray nodded, knowing that after that call many things could change. But it was the right thing to do. Because you were innocent.
…
The jabberjays awakened something inside him. The possibility of finding a reason to be sent back to the Capitol sounded very attractive. But all was forgotten when he requested to call your apartment. In the same building, he called home.
He gulped nervously before a female voice picked up the call. Your mother.
“Hello?” She asked.
“Mrs. Y/l/n… It’s Coriolanus” she sighed, the blonde could almost see her nodding.
“Oh, Coriolanus. What a surprise to hear from you…”
“I guess y/n told you I was sent to serve as a peacekeeper” he admitted, surprised to hear your mother didn’t want to kill him for hurting you.
”Coriolanus… y/n has been sick since the day the hunger games closed” he frowned, holding the phone closer to his ear.
“What?…”
“Apparently she was working in the laboratories in the Citadel with Dr. Gaul. She caught a virus and has been quarantined. I’m so desperate to see her again. Her father has been asking but Dr. Gaul says she’ll be fine in a couple of weeks.”
Coriolanus immediately thought back on Clemensia and the “flu” she caught. But now, it was ten times worse.
Did Gaul punish you for helping him to cheat in the games? Were you dead?
His hands started shaking.
“As soon as I’m back in the Capitol. I’ll try to ask for more information. She’ll be okay…” he tried to soothe your mother, but he was already freaking out.
So he didn’t have situate to send jabberjays with the recording of Sejanus revealing his rebel plans. All so he could go back to you.
…
He didn’t regret it. Because as soon as he stepped into the Citadel, back at home, it felt right.
“Welcome back to the Capitol, Mr. Snow,” said Dr. Gaul, tending her water mutts and giving him a sadic smile.
He stood silent for a couple of seconds. Debating whether to ask you or not.
“I know what you’re thinking about, boy,” she said, walking down the stairs of the mutt's cage.
Coriolanus remained silent, carefully eyeing her.
“She couldn’t get away if she was also guilty for putting in your head that silly idea for you to cheat during the games” he gulped, nervous.
“Have you talked with her parents?”
“Just with her mother once. They think she’s sick and will be fine in a couple of weeks. But they’re worried…” he admitted, trying to act relaxed.
“Oh sure they are worried. I heard the man is going straight to the president’s cabinet. And the mother, already spreading her wings in the fashion tendencies…” Coriolanus wasn’t aware that during his time away your parents had spent all of their time working to try to not worry too much about you. To gain power and find a quicker way to be with you.
“I didn’t know…”
“She was very angry when she learned you had lied to her…”
How was he supposed to keep his composure with that talk?
“I never intended to hurt her” he hated to admit that. He couldn’t be vulnerable. But it crumbled just because it was about you.
“Ah, young love. It’s so dangerous because it makes us weak…”
“Is she alive?…” he tried to change the subject.
“You just have to say you want her back and she’ll be in the Capitol’s hospital in a couple of days” he grew more worried.
“She can’t die… or stop being her”
“The snakes in your other friend really triggered you…” Gaul mocked, laughing.
With that lunatic mentoring him, he had to pull out a stronger card. Something that would compromise him as well so she had no choice but to let you go at once.
“I intend to marry her.” The woman stopped laughing, only to look at him, trying to find the lie in his words, but there wasn’t.
“Brave girl to conquer the heart of a Snow…” and with that, she started walking towards another room in the big laboratory.
The room of voxels and human mutations. He grew anxious until Dr. Gaul pointed out a big water tank.
Coriolanus holds a big breath of terror. He tries his best to remain still. But he felt fear. Just when he thought nothing could ever hurt him again, he had to encounter you in the worst possible way.
“What a shame, she was responding very well. Even looks like a mythological monster”
“Is she going to be… human again?”
“With patience, yes. I’ll let you know when we move her to the hospital. It would be nice if you gave the news to her parents. You know, given you’re the reason she almost ended up with a mermaid tail.”
There rested your naked unconscious body, almost completely covered in salmon scales. Your legs seemed to be slowly disappearing, as the scales were tangling them from your hips to your knees. Your hair was matted and your lashes seemed oddly long.
Coriolanus walked home. He couldn’t take the trolley. The walk seemed short, even with the approaching winter. Your image was haunting him. He couldn’t keep the secret to Tigris when he came back home. He pretended to have a giant smile on his face when he blurted that the Plinths made him heir of their fortune. And he tried to ignore the memory of the elevator indicating the name of your floor.
“But she’s going to be okay?” Tigris asked worried.
“Dr. Gaul said so…”
“I thought she was busy trying to get into the university… her parents rarely appeared to be around too”
Coriolanus remembered what he said back in the laboratory.
“I told Dr. Gaul I’m marrying her” Her cousin opened her eyes in disbelief.
“So she could release her?”
“Yes. But also because… I always thought of it.”
“Are you conscious she’s likely to be mad at you for leaving without answers?” Coriolanus nodded, knowing very well you had plenty of reasons to hate him. But there was no going back.
”Very aware…”
“Then you’ll show her again the fine man you are. You remind her why you were best friends.” He was no good man. He killed people to get to the top. But he wouldn’t be that man to you. You were the only one who could possibly understand him and keep his filthy secrets.
“Snow lands on top” Tigris whispered.
Coriolanus turned to look at a picture of you. He and his family love you so much, you had your own portrait in the Snow Penthouse. The first your mother designed was pink and you wore it. You were always very pretty to the eyes of everyone. But only at that moment Coriolanus appreciated your beauty. The he looked at another picture, the one of you two during the reaping ceremony. His tailored shirt and your handmade clothes. That girl and boy were long gone.
But Coriolanus had done so much damage to step back. With Sejanus and Highbottom gone, he had secured a place in the Capitol. Lucy Gray couldn’t hurt him anymore. All he had to do was to win the girl that once belonged to him.
Giving one last look at the picture of you two, he smiled.
“Snow lands on top…” he answered back to Tigris.
_________
#coriolanus snow x reader#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus x lucy gray#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#tbosas#coriolanus snow#tom blyth x reader
206 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ice, Ice, Baby | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Day Nine: Ice Skating
“I dun’ like this.”
“You haven’t even tried it before, Dar. How could you know if you don’t like it?”
“Dun’ like not bein’ stable on my feet. This shit’s gon’ be a guarantee that I fall on my ass, then m’gon’ be wet and cold, and then you’re gon’ have a grumpy asshole for a partner on the way home.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Well, first of all, thank you for being so honest about what’s gonna happen if you fall. Second of all, just try it, okay? If you stay on the ice for five minutes and then decide that you still don’t like it, we can go home.”
Daryl grumbled and finished tying the laces of the ice-skates you had given to him. “You’re lucky m’so damn fond’a ya, woman.”
The smile that spread over your face made butterflies erupt in the archer’s stomach. At that moment, Daryl knew that he was done for. If you asked him to steal the moon for you, he would do it. Anything to keep that radiant smile on your face.
“Thank you!” you said enthusiastically, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and laughing lightly at the red that coloured the skin on his face. You extended a hand towards him and helped him up from the log, taking a few steps back and situating yourself on the ice. “Come on, you can do it. Just take it nice and slow.”
The moment Daryl’s feet hit the ice, he grabbed your arms instead of your hands, his eyes widening slightly as he wobbled on the ice. “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” he muttered to himself, trying to follow your lead as you led him further onto the ice.
“You’re doing great, Dar,” you reassured him, trying your hardest not to laugh at the look of nervousness mixed with concentration on his features. “You’re a natural at this.”
The moment your words met his ears, he wobbled again and nearly fell down, but thankfully steadied himself. “Yeah, right. ‘Natural’. Ain’t nothin’ natural ‘bout walkin’ on frozen water.”
“It’s fun!” you laughed, slowly leading him over the ice, making sure to keep him as steady as you could. “Come on, you gotta admit that this isn’t that bad.”
It really wasn’t, Daryl thought to himself. The actual ice skating bit wasn’t the part that made that fun for him. He felt like a baby giraffe trying to learn how to walk for the first time. It was the look of pure happiness on your face that made that all worthwhile. You had mentioned that you missed skating on the ice since the world ended, and he was thrilled that he was able to give you the experience you so deeply missed.
It certainly didn’t mean that he had to like the feeling of nearly falling flat on his behind every time the two of you turned, though.
The two of you skated around together on the ice for another few minutes, and Daryl felt the unstableness melt away. Slowly, but surely, he managed to copy your movements, and he felt rather proud of himself.
“See? I told you that you’re a natural at this,” you complimented him, slipping one of your arms from his grip and instead opting to hold his hand instead.
“I guess s’cause I had a good teacher,” he replied, a faint smile on his face as he gazed down at the ice, feeling a rush of excitement at his new ability.
“So, what’s the verdict? We going home?” you inquired, although you had a feeling about what the answer was going to be.
“Nah,” Daryl said with a shake of his head. “You’ve been wantin’ to do this for a while now. Guess I can tough it out for a while longer.”
“And this is totally not because you’re actually enjoying ice-skating?”
“Nah.”
“Okay,” you replied with a disbelieving laugh, rubbing your thumb over Daryl’s knuckles as the two of you continued to glide over the frozen water. “Just wanted to make sure.”
#krys writes .ೃ࿐#winter holiday prompts#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead#twd daryl#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl x reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl#the walking dead daryl#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon the walking dead#daryl dixon fan fiction#daryl drabbles#daryl dixon x fem!reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n
197 notes
·
View notes
Text
Beef
Daryl Dixon x Reader
Requested : "Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?" EDIT: I saw this same request being written by another writer and I want to say, don't send multiple writers the same exact request. I find this super disrespectful.
This one took some turns of its own while writing, I hope it's to your liking!!
When his group first came to the community you were excited. Finally you'd have a real huntsman around to share experiences with, you had missed it so bad.
Before the fall your family owned a shop, your father a butcher and your mother a taxidermist. You and your siblings learned every skill from hunting to skinning, prepping and using each part of the animal so none would go to waste. You hadn't hunted in so long, you weren't sure if you still could hunt succesfully. Even now you'd donate large, strong antlers and bones to the blacksmith in Hilltop to use in weaponmaking. You donated the furs you didn't fashion into items yourself to the seamstresses and prepped each type of meat for meals.
But somehow the new hunter didn't take the shared interests as something positive.
He brought you animals, yes. But never without throwing a judgy look around your workplace. Even when he came in with someone else who'd compliment your clean work he'd only scoff, dump his kills and head back out.
"Sheesh, what crawled up his ass?" The large moustached man laughed. You only shrugged as you lugged the deer behind your counter. "Hell if I know. Ain't digging it out tho. He seems to be doing okay with everyone except for me.." You returned the laugh while the man who's name slipped your mind helped you put the deer on your workbench, only to quickly drop the fake smile and leaning against your workbench.
You thanked him with a sigh and he gave you that look that told you to spill your thoughts.
"Fine. It sucks he's so weird. It'd be awesome to have a partner to do all of this with and to go hunt with." You busied yourself sharpening yuour knives, clearly still annoyed by the whole ordeal. "And..?" The long winded drawl made you roll your eyes at the man's persistance.
"And he's drop dead gorgeous, okay? There. I said it. I have a crush on the man. Happy no-- Ah fuck!" Your knife hit the floor with a clatter as you grabbed at your bleeding hand.
"Alright, up and out withya. To the doc we go." You were led to the infirmary and passed the source of your annoyance on the way.
Not that you were listening, but you still caught his voice in passing. "Damn folk 'ere don't know how ta do shit." You caught his glance in your direction and if you weren't busy keeping yourself from bleeding out you'd confront him.
It was a clear message that you weren't allowed to use the injured hand for your work and risk pulling the stitches, and honestly it just hurt too much to do anything with it. It sucked even more than having to leave your old home behind. There were people counting on your work so they'd have food.
It didn't stop you from going to work and doing as much as you could one-handed. You got there extra early to make up for the extra rime everything would take now, and by the time you'd normally open you found Deanna on your steps, greeting you with her usual smile. "I knew you'd be here stil working, but I brought someone to help until your hand is better. You shouldn't be overworking yourself."
As quick as she had entered she had left again as well, leaving you with your new work companion.
The hunter.
"Good morning." You gave him the kindest smile you could, but were only given a grunt in return as he tossed a bundle of tied up small game on your desk, rounded the corner and fished for a knife to start taking them apart.
Besides you explaining where to put all the different parts of the animal you two barely spoke, until the snap of bone pulled you away from your focused work of skinning yesterday's deer. "The hell?" You turned around to go see what he was up to.
"What are you breaking bones for?" His station was a mess, he pointed at the difficult point he was cuting along. "Easier ta reach without the bone in the way." Without even looking he continued. "Ya should know tha'. Damn city girl doin' mah work."
Again with his snarky comments. You shrugged it off and went back to your own station. Yiur bkood bloiled but you weren't gonna let him get to you, you had work to get done. "Try not to do that, we can still use the bones if you keep them whole."
You tried so hard to focus on your work, skinning the deer with only one functional hand was so difficult and even though you were having extremely conflicted feelings about it you still had to ask him for help.
"Can I borrow your hands for a minute? Can't do this on my own."
You held the large deer up and moved it as Daryl cut away the skin in the most choppy manner, creating a clear line where you stopped and he started. "Can you please work a bit mote delicate? That's gonna take me ages to clean up." You huffed from keeping the deer in place, but also annoyance. Why didn't he work like a hunter? He must know the code, right?
"Why're ya so on mah ass 'bout how I work? Gon' toss it out anyways. Just need the meat, tha's it." He got snappy at the end and you just stared at him, anger clear in your eyes. "Seriously?"
You let go of the deer and stepped away from the counter. "You're sent to MY shop. To help me because I happen to fuck up my hand for the first time ever since I got here years ago and all you can do is talk shit about me?" The knife that laid on the desk before now in your good hand and pointed at his chest. "God I can't believe I even fell for your hunting woodsman charms. You're just an asshole who doesn't give a shit about these animals or the hunter's code." With a clatter the knife hit the floor as you tossed it to the side with shaking hands.
"Get the fuck out of my shop and go find me someone who cares." With angry steps you turned around and headed out of the room, needing a break to gather yourself first if you wanted to get anything else done.
Now alone in the workstation, Daryl snatched up his catch from this morning and headed out.
~~
"You did what? Pookie you gotta listen to the girl." Carol sat down next to him and snatched the cigarette from his fingers. "You know you disrespected her life's work by now following her rules in her own shop, right?"
"I'on get why tha's even important anymore. We gotta eat, tha's all." Daryl's annoyed grumbles did nothing good it seemed as Carol continued to scold him like he was a child. "Did you for one second maybe think this work is all she has left to hold onto her old world self?"
"Cept this ain't the old world no more. She's waistin' time doin' all tha extra shit."
Carol was up and at the front door by now, putting out the cigarette in one of many ashtrays there. "Alright, up with you. You're apologizing with me right now."
The two took off to your shop but found no one there. Daryl's half finished rabbit still out in the open on the table while the deer was gone. "Ain't here. I'll head back tomorro--"
"No we're not. I know where she lives, come on." Carol practically pulled him along on the way to your place despite Daryl's protests.
You were working in your basement area when you heard a knock on the front door. "Come in!" Everyone who came to your place knew the door was unlocked and was free to come and find you, seeing you were either cooking, working on lounging when you kept the front door open.
"Hey, it's Carol! Heard about your hand, need some help around the house?" She needed an excuse to get an answer and find out where you were, so when you called back she knew to head downstairs.
Meanwhile Daryl just stared around to keep his mind busy. He found rabbit skins from prey he brought in wrapped around a pair of boots. He recognized the fur seeing it was a rare color. Further into your livingroom there was a deer pelt draped over the back of your couch. Also caught by him. The white spots over the back had one small flaw from where his bolt had struck right on a white dot. He remembered being proud of his aim for a minute that day.
"Daryl, come on." Carol's whisper-yell had him roll his eyes and as he passed your coatrack he noticed the hooks were all antler parts and the knives laying in the basket on the hallway table had bone handles.
So that's why you were so angry when he snapped the rabbit's leg and skinned the deer so carelessly. You did really use everything.
The two walked down the stairs to your workshop, Carol up front with Daryl following.
"Oh wow," Carol's exclaimation had you laugh. "Yeah, I get that a lot." You stood with your back turned, struggling to hang a piece of skin.
"Here, lemme help ya." Daryl's gruff voice was suddenly right behind you and you spooked, letting go of the pelt but Daryl caught it just in time, draping it over the wire. "Like tha?" His hands stayed up there and adjusted it to your liking, having stepped back to watch him and give Carol a questioning look. She just shrugged and gestured at the man who was again staring around the room. "What brings you here?"
Daryl looked at everything except you, he knew he'd lose all ability to speak if he did. Hell, he already had a difficulty getting his words out now seeing how wrong he was for not listening to you. "Came ta say sorry." He stared at the basket of furs labeled 'Donate'. "Shoulda known better than ta get angry. 'N I get why ya work thr way ya do now." Next to the basket sat a crate filled with thick, sturdy bones labeled 'blacksmith'.
You nodded and gave him an option. "Come back to the shop tomorrow. I'll have tou clean up that deer skin you almost ruined and you're following my teachings. I'll forgive you for wasting the rabbit."
Daryl chewed at his thumb, the other hand stuffed in his pocket and fidgeting with the fabric inside. "Yeah, alright." He nodded and looked over at Carol who had the brightest smile on her face. One that screamed victory.
"We'll get out of your hair, I'll bring by some lunch tomorrow at your shop." Carol waved on her way up, and just as Daryl was about to follow her you quickly spun around to grab something. "Oh, here." You held out a thin knife wrapped in leather, a small engraving of Hilltop's blacksmith on the handle. "I saw you took the rabbits, so if you haven't prepped them yet you can try this one. They're great for smaller animals."
He stumbled over his thanks as he accepted the knife and quickly headed out after Carol.
~~
You were back at work early the next morning, painkillers and a small breakfast in your system already and hoping to finish that damn deer. It still proved a challenge to get it from the cooler onto the workbench but you managed eventually, just before Daryl came in.
"Mornin'." Hid gruff voice sounded through the workplace as he rounded the corner and placed the knife from yesterday on the table. "Thanks fer lettin' me borrow it. Worked like a charm."
You picked up the knife and held it out to him again, only to recieve a questioning grunt in return. "It was a gift. To keep."
Daryl never got gifts. Everything he had was scavenged and well taken care of for longer use these days. It felt weird to keep it but he thanked you again and pocketed it.
Meanwhile you had grabbed the deer skin and laid it out where he'd be working. "Look here, I'll show you how to clean this up and you'll go fix the rest, okay? It'll take a while but it'll be worth it." Daryl stepped up to you and observed the way you took the knife to the uneven spots of skin and carefully smoothed it all out. The precision in your work was impressive to say the least. "How long've ya been doin' this?"
You dropped a cut off piece of meat into a plastic container and thought back to the old world. "I guess ever since my parents thought I was old enough to handle knives." You held the tool out to the hunter and watched him take it from you. "Your turn. I'll be hopefully finishing that deer so just ask whatever, whenever."
You were lucky a lot of the cutting could be done onehanded, and holding back pieces was okay enough to do with your wrist or hold something down with your elbow. But now that you had all the easy access meats off and seperated you ran into a problem.
"Fuck.." You needed help. The same kind of help that had you kick him out yesterday.
"Sup? Need hands?" He was at your side in a second, waiting for your instructions.
"I need to take off the ribs but I can't." You leaned aside to point around the carcass. "If you can press down here, and there." Daryl followed your instructions and put pressure on the spots you pointed out. "Then I can take this here apart." Your movements were followed and suddenly it was way too hot in your always cold workplace. Yesterday you'd be happy if he decided thr Kingdom was a better home for him but now that he apologized and proved to better himself after your misunderstanding you were back to being the lovesick puppy Abraham had made you out to be when he brought you home after the infirmary visit.
With how Daryl held the spot clear and open you had to get close to chop through the bone and separate it all in workable bits.
"Can I take one a'those later? Michonne asked ta cook fer her kids cuz she's out 'n Carol's off ta Kingdom--" "Throw the kids an old world barbeque! I'll come help. I'm sure you're skilled in roasting over an open fire with how much you traveled." The excitement was clear in your voice, and the sudden compliments and offers of gifts and assistance had him nervously fidgeting. But thinking about having a fun experience with the kids instead of just cooking and having dinner sounded way better than his original plan, so he agreed.
"Ya got supplies ta fix tha' in half a day?"
~~
The two of you cleaned up after finishing thr needed work and while you carried the prepped meats, Daryl had the bowl firepit on a kart together with the metal rack to hang over it. Yeah, he lived in a community now but he never guessed he'd be carrying around a whole barbeque setup like he was getting ready to throw a party in the old world. "Gotta drop by tha' house fer a sec, get Jude 'n RJ."
After he got the kids and you had everything set up Daryl got the fire started while you made a quick pantry run and dug through Daryl's kitchen for anything to add to the meals.
You brought whatever you found and set it on the side of the porch steps, keeping a path to the house cleared and sat yourself down in the front lawn as you watched uncle Daryl in action, letting the kids toss wood onto the fire and poke at it with a stick but making sure they kept their distance and wouldn't touch the hot metal.
It was heartwarming to see him laugh and have fun with them and watched him speak quetly to the kids with a finger pointed your way before the two came running towards you.
"Daryl says the fire's good for food! Can we put some on the thing?" Two pairs of big, begging eyes stared at you and saying no would be the worst so of course you allowed them, under surveillance and with an assisting hand. "Alright, pick something you wanna eat first and put it on a plate, Daryl will take it to the fire and I'l helf you put it on the rack, okay?"
A chime of "Okay!" baely left them before they were at the collection of prepared meats where you and Daryl joined them in picking.
While Daryl roasted the food over the fire you were tasked go keep the kids busy, but wirh hoe much they loved chatting about everything and anything it was an easy task.
The whole evening was fun and food and family and it reminded you of everything you missed in this new world.
Everything was good in this moment, especially when you heard a little exchange between uncle and niece.
"Uncle Daryl? Can we have more dinners with her? But also mom and aunt Carol next time." You watched Daryl look towards you for a moment before turning back to Judith. "'Course, she's teachin' me ta prepare food so we can do this with e'ryone if ya want. But!" He raised his hand and pointed at RJ, who came over to him too now. "Yer gonna be the ones askin' folk ta bring food too, so e'ryone has somethin' ta eat, 'kay?"
The two happily nodding kids proved that your time in the community just got a lot more fun.
Now, after the kids were long brought to bed you and Daryl stayed around the fire. Having taken the meat rack off and set asidr you were just relaxing and picking away at the leftovers.
"So," you started, watching the flames in front of you. "That community barbeque plan of yours, it sounded amazing especially how you brought it over to the kids. But, aren't you afraid it'll drain recources too quick?"
Daryl shrugged it off. "Maybe. But those kids'll make folks keep stuff aside fer it." The idea of those two running around the place collecting people brought a smile to his face. "'Sides, I ain't wastin' meat no more with yer lessons tha' I hope ya will keep givin' me."
Oh. He wanted to stay? At the shop? With you? You were pleasantly shocked with that news. "What? Ofcourse I'll teach you. But only of you promise to take me out hunting when my hand's okay again."
He let out a breathy laugh and nodded. "Yeah, I'd love ta have ya around."
You stretched and laid down in the grass, looking up at the night sky.
"S'gonna be fun."
#sometimes i write#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fanfiction#twd daryl#twd#the walking dead#twd x reader#daryl x reader
509 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dom Steve Fic Recs
Strange as Angels (soft dom steve) by @munsonkitten
Eddie hasn't been able to get himself off in months, and now he's high, sweaty, and horny, thinking about the very man sitting in his room in nothing but a wife beater and a pair of tiny athletic shorts, and he thinks he might die. Steve notices. Of course, Steve fucking notices, what, with all the squirming Eddie's doing. Steve offers to help get Eddie off. As friends do. (As long as those friends are completely in love with each other.)
Like The Hero Who Never Ran (dom awakening series) by callmejude
While Steve and Dustin are searching for survivors, they're surprised to find Eddie alive, hiding out in Rick's cabin. Steve takes up the task of caring for him while staying in his trailer.
Genius Loci (dom bottom, magic steve) by @sayesayes
It’s 1986, and Steve falls in love with a boy who is leaving. It’s 1990, and Eddie comes back home. The fic where Steve is a selectively mute, homesteading, truck-driving witch with head injuries and also somehow it's canonverse.
(Don't) cream your pants (soft dom steve awakening series) by @corrodedbisexual
“Don’t know how to cream your pants, huh?” Steve asks, unable to conceal a smirk. He hears a quiet whine as Eddie seems to try and make himself disappear inside the couch. “Want me to show you how?”
Gilded (dom steve, blindfolds, ice play) by @cheshiredogao3
Steve and Eddie are looking forward to a weekend all to themselves, but it doesn’t go as planned.
Trouble Looks Good On You (wip, spanking, kink discovery) by me indelicate
It happens like a fever dream. The first time Steve gives Eddie a swift smack on the ass, it’s obviously just an old jock habit that’s stuck with him. It wasn’t meant to have Eddie’s knees going weak, or turn his blood hot under his skin, or give him a brand in the shape of Steve Harrington’s hand, or— Nope, because Eddie’s not even into that. But then, it happens again. Or, Steve keeps accidentally awakening Eddie’s new kinks.
You Make Me Feel Like I Am Whole Again (wip, dom top and dom bottom steve) by @munsonkitten
Eddie has never felt like his body belongs to him. It gets worse after he's nearly mauled to death, left with scars and healing wounds, a lopsided chest, and more trauma stacked on top of everything already wrong with him. Steve Harrington finds out Eddie's trans by accident after the bats, and Eddie finds out Steve's surprisingly okay with it. More than okay with it.
Bite Through These Wires (soft dom steve's strap game series 🤭) by @steves-strapcollection
“Wouldn’t you be Ken, though?” Steve had hoped Eddie would ask a question like that and he had to refrain from punching the air and ruining his punchline. “I come with all the coolest accessories, so clearly I’m still Barbie,” Steve retorted, his voice going just a bit deeper as he leaned closer to Eddie.
Relax (Lay it Back) (soft dom yoga instructor steve) by @wynnyfryd
Five times yoga instructor Steve teaches Eddie how to chill the fuck out, and the one time he learns his lesson.
Melt Me On Your Tongue (soft dom, bathing) by me indelicate
“This okay?” “Yeah it’s— shit, it’s more than okay, Steve.” “… you’re crying, Eds.” Eddie can’t hold back a choked off noise then, somewhere between an overwhelmed laugh and a sob. “No one’s ever done this to me before.” He doesn’t know if he means no one’s ever given him a bath, or braided his hair, or just any of the things Steve does for him, really. Eddie's never had a Steve before.
Kiss Me (Beneath the Milky Twilight) (pleasure dom steve, virgin eddie) by @gorgeousgreymatter-x
Eddie has never been kissed. Steve apparently would very much like to volunteer to fix this.
Getting Lost in the Dark is My Favorite Part (wip, masochist virgin eddie, kink discovery) by queerontilmorning
After his near-death experience, Eddie decides it's time to get rid of his pesky virginity and heads to a gay bar. It leads to some... realizations... for both him and Steve.
You're a Sweet Shot of Kerosene (When I Threw it Back, it Poisoned Me) (wip, mob boss steve) by @gorgeousgreymatter-x
Whatever fucked up shit Eddie’s father had inadvertently roped him into simply by being what he was — a shit-stain excuse for a sperm donor who preferred sticking a needle in his arm to taking care of his family — well, Eddie’s pretty sure it’s about to be him that pays that price. And maybe Eddie’s delirious, because by the time it’s apparently his turn and they’re dragging him down some hallway (and yeah, it’s not like Eddie’s not trying to put up a fight, but it feels almost performative at this point considering he’s pretty much hogtied here), the only real thought he has when they deposit him on yet another cold, wet tile floor is this: Uncle Wayne is gonna be so pissed at me if I get shot in the head tonight.
closer to you (soft dom steve) by @natesfwl
“C’mon baby, where's my little rockstar?” Steve spanks him, groans when he feels Eddie tense up around him from the impact, “Perform for me.” “You let me penetrate you” Eddie stutters out the line as he lifts himself up with his knees. “There you go,” Steve whispers, watching as Eddie fights to keep his eyes locked onto Steve’s when he sinks back down. or the really self-indulgent fic of steddie fucking to the song closer by NIN.
Destroy The Silence (drummer steve) by @artaxlivs
Steve becomes the drummer for Corroded Coffin and Eddie can't handle his thirst
Trouble and Temptation (series wip, businessman dilf steve) by @heartharps
“Come on, Harrington. I’d lay you badly but I’d lay you gladly.” When Steve looked up, he was glaring, as stern and serious as ever. “Eddie, let me remind you that as far as I'm concerned, nothing has ever happened between us other than of a professional nature.”
Sting, and Other Brainworms (series with switching) by @riality-check
“Do you need to go down, baby?” Eddie gets like this, sometimes. Stuck between overwhelmed and incredibly bored. Steve watches until he remembers that they have a way to fix this. Eddie calls it a hard reset. Steve calls it fucking him until he can’t see straight.
Edification (sadist steve) by aristal
“Alright Munson.” She bares her teeth and grins like a wolf. “Tell the class: what’s your biggest sexual fantasy?” A slow smile creeps into his features, and his dark eyes flash. “Oh, you’re asking the good questions, Wheeler.” He takes another long pull of his joint, dragging the moment out for dramatic effect. Steve doesn’t care. He wants to know the answer. He needs to know. Eventually, Eddie blows out the smoke, eyes a little hazy as he grins at the ceiling. “I’ve always liked the idea of being slapped around and choked in someone’s car.”
In My Boxers, Half Stoned (dom bottom Steve) by eddywow
"You can," Eddie said, almost sounding like he was nodding along to his words. The image was too pure for Steve. "You could say anything you want to me and I'd- I think I'd be into it. Because I saw your pics and like, I know your face isn't in them but- but I really like them. Is it okay that I liked them?"
Insatiable (public, skirts, cages) by @cheshiredogao3
When their club ritual is rudely interrupted, Steve and Eddie make a point of proving their bond—rather publicly.
Done Deal (series with switching) by @morningberriesao3
Steve Harrington doesn't have any money with him, so he offers to pay Eddie Munson some other way.
Lovebite (sub vampire eddie) by hellcore
It shouldn’t feel so good, being tasted.
* The next few don't have the tag but in my opinion they have dom Steve vibes and I want to include them here (:
Cyclical (wip, time loop fic, rimming, switching, lots of smut with plot) by @cuips-not-cute
steve keeps finding himself back in the boathouse where everything started, wrapped up in the arms of a boy who can’t stop dying. he's desperate to rewrite the timeline, trying everything he can think of to fix it. including falling in love.
Dirty Words by @morningberriesao3
Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.
Memorize My Number, That's Why I Got A Phone (phone sex) by queerontilmorning
while on tour with Corroded Coffin, Eddie makes an important phone call to Steve.
My Right Hand Man (spanking, kink discovery) by @entanglednow
In which movie night takes an unexpected turn, and it's surprisingly easy to just let it happen.
Shot Right Through (pierced eddie) by @entanglednow
Steve overhears a conversation between Eddie and Robin, and then spends a few weeks trying to think of anything else.
Pleased To Meet You (demon steve) by midnightdrive
Eddie accidentally summons a demon who is bound to fulfill his every wish. He, somehow, gets more than he had bargained for.
#for the baddies that get it#i'm sure i missed some great ones please feel free to add on <3#steddie#steddie fic rec#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#dom steve harrington#sub eddie munson
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
For the trope mash-up: didnt mean to turn you on + innocent physical touch for franco 'milf-hunter' colapinto and checo/lewis
okay hear me out. what if checo was a woman instead 🤭🫣
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ebad86808715e30d6f0fbf50dd80d478/773b17eaaec2d53f-94/s540x810/7fe6d89671f53b10fadb32ad713bb3399d27b6dc.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/60caa0dad30407a7727813cc6bd968a7/773b17eaaec2d53f-e3/s540x810/c8b8843e57bc05d7c9729ace3e6f9646601d462b.jpg)
Checo's had a fucking year.
The car is shit. She's been saying for so long but now they finally believe it as even Redbull’s wunderkind Max struggles in it. Every other interview, news cycle is about her retiring, her being unceremoniously kicked out as drivers salivate for her seat, her middling performance due to early pre-menopausal hormones? Just 2 years ago, she was the Mexican Queen of Defense, and now it's 'is she Redbull’s DEI hire?' The stories have become outlandish, announcing her second pregnancy and retirement at Mexican Grand Prix. That's why after Daniel, who had very clearly been brought in to replace her, was switched mid season she posted the Wolf of Wall Street clip on her instagram to make it clear: I’m not fucking leaving.
So forgive her if she's been seeking a little respite elsewhere.
There's a hot, young Argentine at Williams that's been eyeing her. Checo’s a woman on the F1 grid, she's been eyed like that thousands of times, most of it unwanted. Although, it fell off after she birthed the twins and her tits never returned to their glory days. So it's a little flattering reminder she's still got it. Being able to speak in the same language also helps, not having to translate everything for doublespeak. They have rapport.
“How old are you?” Checo asks at the club. She's not there to celebrate, she just needs a drink. Franco’s at the stage where finishing a race is cause for celebration.
“Twenty five.” Franco replies in her ear entirely too quickly, with a grin.
Checo raised an eyebrow. She didn't keep track of the rookies but she sure as hell knew they weren't doing twenty five year old rookies anymore.
A group of tourists seem to recognize her, probably fans and she's in no autographing mood so she pulls Franco in closer in front of her, to block her five foot four self from the world. He misreads the signal, but is all too happy to step in closer; personal space be damned.
“Okay. I lied. I didn't want to freak you out.” Franco confesses sheepishly.
Checo drinks her whiskey, assessing it. “I was winning karting races while you were in diapers, yes?”
It makes her feel old just saying it. She doesn't know how Fernando does it.
Franco nods, pupils going dark.
“And…” she raises her left hand, eyes pointing to her wedding ring.
Franco smirks. “I don't mind if you don't.” He leans in for the kiss, and Checo leans back denying him. Too public. She's learned from that mistake. She does put her left hand on his nape, stroking it and praising the boldness. It's dangerous, sleeping with another driver. When you're a woman, it gives them too much power. That's why Checo never acted on Max's obvious interest. But Franco doesn't have a seat next year yet... as temporary and harmless to her prospects as it gets.
“Come on,” Franco’s voice betrays the frustration underneath the trying hard to be suave, “I know you're thinking it too. You'd rather be on a boat with me than this totally lame club. And what I might lack in experience, I can make up for in stamina.” He practically purrs in her ear.
“A boat? Williams is not paying you that much.” Checo laughs, even as she entertains the line about stamina. James is a penny pincher to a fault. And Franco might get F1 groupies impressed with that line, but as the primary breadwinner she knows a little better.
Franco’s undeterred. “Your boat then. I can be your yacht boy.”
Now wouldn't Checo love to be sunning on a boat, no kids running around, being waited on hand and foot by an eager, younger man who can go for round two in ten minutes. God, she hasn't been filled up in a satisfying way in so long, her cunt throbs at the fantasy, aided by the tall, warm body in front of her.
Checo bites her lower lip, and looks around. Nobody around them in paying attention to the dark corner they're in anymore. She takes Franco’s hand and places it over her breast, holding his gaze. For all his smooth-talking, Franco seems momentarily stunned, mouth parting in surprise. He has naturally red lips, Checo wants to bite on it. He tentatively squeezes her breast, and after seeing her nod, starts kneading it, thumb trying to find her nipple through the layers of her polo shirt and sports bra.
“Can I please eat you?” Franco’s voice is husky as he begs.
#Franco/checo#ok but what if she's a woman and lowkey a deadbeat mom. hashtag representation#f1 rpf#my fics#blorbocedes ask
174 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jersey Gotham
Okay as someone born and raised in Jersey, I feel like we as a fandom are missing out on truly Jersey-ified Gotham. Like, c’mon, Jersey Girl Brucie Wayne??? So here I am to present a list of things I need more of because god damn it make Batfam— mostly Bruce, Jason, Tim, Steph, and Duke— Jersey (all based on my own personal experiences/real things that have happened to me):
Bruce cannot pump his own gas. He just. Doesn’t know how to. It’s not like a rich person thing, he just never learned cause he’s from fucking Jersey and never leaves Gotham. Jason didn’t know how and Talía lost her shit “How??? You are child superhero??? Who died and spontaneously came back??? But you can’t pump gas??” Tim kinda knows cause of Titans but again, he never really had to. (There’s a Twitter threaded dedicated to the Wayne family titled “is this rich or Jersey”). Steph and Duke can but they both pretend not too.
There have been fist fights over whether it’s pork roll or taylor ham. Jason and Bruce are very adamantly pork roll like the good Southern Jersey boys they are— it’s the one thing they can agree in most days— but Tim is taylor ham. Steph and Duke, despite being South Jersey, like to cause chaos and flip sides constantly. Dick, Damian, and Cass couldn’t care less.
The Absolute Hatred of New York/NYC. Doesn’t matter which kid it is, Bruce (and Alfred) got them all on board with this. Don’t even get them started on the Statue of Liberty; it’s a Wayne family tradition to try and buy it from NY because technically it’s more in NJ than NY and it’s closer too. They’ve yet to be successful but Bruce has hope for when it’s Damian’s turn.
And bc of this hatred of NYC comes the support of Philly!! None of them are super big sport fans, but they do cheer for Eagles, 76ers, and Union. Bruce, thanks to Alfred, is a big fan of soccer (“it’s football, master Bruce, I didn’t raise you in a barn”), and is a member of the Sons of Ben. He can be found in the River End of the stadium with Jason cheering for Union at pretty much every home game. There are multiple videos of Brucie Wayne and Jason Wayne screaming at refs, launching fireworks off the roof, and cursing out opposing teams’ players. Duke and Tim can be found 76ers games, while Steph frequents Eagles games.
Accents. Pls for the love of god give those boys (and Steph) accents. They are from New Fucking Jersey. They say “cawfee” and “tawlk.” They pronounce 0% of their t’s in the middle of words— kitten is ki’en, Trenton is tren’in. Jason and Steph drop letters when they gets pissed, Bruce slurs words, Duke and Tim drop passive-aggressive “y’all’s” to piss people off.
Driving. Now it’s not that they’re shit drivers, it’s that everyone else is a shit driver, and it’s not helped that majority of them learned to drive in the Batmobile. Steph has a loudspeaker on her car and frequently yells “fucking Pennsylvania turn your goddamn blinker on!” while driving. Bruce has a room in the manor dedicated to his speeding tickets. Tim as gotten into multiple fists fights at lights because people were driving slow in the fast lane. Jason is infamous for doing the Jersey Slide.
Jason, Tim, and Steph have gotten mugged before. They talked their way out of it and gave tips to the mugger. Bruce has kicked a rabid raccoon while walking home before because what else was he supposed to do? Duke has ordered a “pork roll egg and cheese on an everything” before in Not-Jersey and cried because they don’t have it. Several foreign benefactors of WE have asked for translators at meetings with Brucie cause Brucie’s accent is so thick and exaggerated. IN CONCLUSION: making Batfam (and gotham) Jersey is funny as hell and presents so many good opportunities. Make Batfam Jersey! (again these are all just my personal experiences, big state yada yada, different experiences, blah blah idgaf I jsut need batfam fist fighting over pork roll)
#batfam#richard grayson#bruce wayne#brucie wayne#jason todd#tim drake#stephanie brown#duke thomas#cassandra cain#alfred pennyworth#gotham#Please make them Jersey#Gotham is literally in Jersey#Make batfam jersey#Yes I did kick a raccoon once worth it
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
I promise this is just coming from someone who wants to learn, and I apologize if it sounds hateful or rude for what I'm about to ask that is not what I want at all,
but when it comes to systems, DID, plurality, from what I have heard, it is something extremely extremely rare, and something that most people under the age of 25 the body isn't even supposed to like "reveal" until older. I'm just confused and I would really like to hear from someone who actually is plural and not just from like Google
is being a system, DID, and plurality even the same? And the only plural people I have met irl have like 25,000+ alters of dsmp characters (I ofc know not everyone who is plural isnt just fictive and it's all different)
just a very confused person who isn't plural and I would really like to learn and be educated !! I would really like to understand more and hate unreasonably for something I don't understand
hello there!
you can be plural without having DID. there's not really much else to it. DID is one form of plurality. it's not the end all be all of plurality. there are even other dissociative disorders like OSDD that get cast by the wayside when people adopt this kind of mentality. there's so much more to plurality than DID. also, there is no set age at which the symptoms at DID become apparent on the outside. i've been having dissociative symptoms since i was a kid. my alters were active and present even as a teenager!
relying on medical statistics alone for DID is a bad idea because most professionals who are capable of diagnosing someone with a mental health condition don't even know what dissociative disorders are or what they entail. my own therapist has known that I have DID the entire time i've known her, but she has told me that currently, she can't help me with it, because she has not received training for it. dissociative disorders are nowhere near as rare as we think they are, one has to consider that a number even as low as 1% - 2% of the global population is an absolutely massive number of people!
saying that DID is "extremely rare" in this case in order to discredit non dissociative plurals is an appeal to authority. it's appealing to the medical industry who refuses to take it seriously in the first place. the amount of professionals i've had who pointed out that i have dissociative disorders vs. the ones who never commented on it at all is pretty staggering. this is due to a lack of proper research due to lack of funding, not because DID is genuinely that rare. the reason there isn't more research into plurality in general is because of a lack of funding. medical studies and organizations require funding. if they don't see money in it, they won't do it.
DID is still a heavily stigmatized condition. things haven't gotten much better since it was renamed from Multiple Personality Disorder. people with dissociative disorders are still treated like shit in medical settings, so to me, it makes no sense at all whatsoever to pit dissociatives against other plurals because no one takes ANY of us seriously, it's not non-dissociative plurals' faults that we're not taken seriously. it's the medical industry. there are no medications to push for DID. DID does not respond to medication. this already makes a lot of doctors not want to interact with it at all, because there's no commissions for medications prescribed.
"And the only plural people I have met irl have like 25,000+ alters of dsmp characters."
i'm pointing this out gently, i don't think you're a bad person, but this is sooooo mean, please don't be that mean and judgmental about other people, plural or not. please consider how those people would feel if they heard you talking about them like that. even if you don't view them as plural, you shouldn't think it's okay to discredit their lived experience. what are you getting out of phrasing it like that? even if that person turns out to not be plural, please do not judge other people based off of things like this. you don't live inside of their head. you don't know what's going on in there.
i'm not entirely sure why people think this way about introjects and fictives, but they're an extremely normal part of the plural experience! one of the most well known DID systems of all time, Truddi Chase and The Troops, had not only fictional alters (Elvira) but also factual ones as well (Mean Joe Green). this is not new, nor is it isolated to non dissociative plurals. introjects and fictives are extremely normal. it doesn't mean someone is faking just because they've introjected someone, or someones.
hope that helps, in general, please understand that the only lived experience that you are the arbiter of is your own and you cannot tell someone else what they're experiencing, no matter what. plurality will look different for every person, system and so on that experiences it! the sooner you accept that the easier your own life will become. it's not hurting you for someone to have headmates that you don't like. that's their business, not yours, and that's actually a very freeing thing!
great addition from the tags:
116 notes
·
View notes