#this was floating around in my drafts for a while

[so-bitya]

Whitewashing in Anime - Agni ft. Cithis

Browns of the Same Shade

Hello again! I decided to revisit this topic again now that we have Agni's official appearance in the anime. I also wanted to go over some aspects that I did not get to include in my first post.

In the end, Agni also got lightened! His skin tone was always somewhat darker than Soma's in both the anime and manga appearances. Yana does describe his appearance as a "dark-skinned woman" in her genderbend sketches. So, for the anime to lighten him this much to such an degree is disappointing.

The skin diversity in the anime has been pretty lacking so far. Once again, A1 studios was not perfect, but they did manage to give all three Indian characters different dark skin tones, while this anime has every Indian generally the same lightened shade.

(every indian character in the anime are the same skin tone... cloverworks stand up, you can't let a-1 studios beat you like this)

Personal opinion of mine, I feel like animation studios aren't willing to play with skin color values as much anymore. I remember even seeing white characters being various shades of brown, especially under certain lighting and environments. Unlike now, when every character looks bleached the second they hit the sun.

I also wanted to review what I think of Soma's appearance. Soma's skin tone isn't any darker than it was in the teaser shot sadly, so we can't blame the lighting. I already was expecting it, but it's still a shame.

One positive feature I'll give to the anime is that Soma's nose isn't pronounced all the time. In certain scenes, his nose isn't as sharp as it would be for other characters. I believe that's just the style for the anime and its dependent on the shot.

Anyway, I felt this image was pretty on topic with Soma and Agni's situation and just anime remakes/reboots in general lately:

Brown ≠ Grey

Something I'm embarrassed I forgot in my last post is saturation! I mentioned often how darker skin tones tend to be neglected, but not only that, but the color! The vibrancy in the skin, the life!

A common feature I noticed, especially in East Asian media, is how they avoid the "brown" in dark-skinned characters, by constantly making their skin tone duller, ending up with more grey-toned skin.

I often see art advice for digital artists that they should pick desaturated colors or colors in the "grey zone" as to not overwhelm the art piece. Which is fine most of the time! But when you apply that advice for brown skin, what you get are mostly grey tones, and end up having your character look like a zombie.

Here are some colors I randomly picked. The colors on the left are those sandy, dull grey tones I was talking about. If you want to get those richer, deeper-toned browns, you need to pick colors with more saturation like the ones on the right.

Now of course, color is relative and you can't just color pick your way around without considering how it fits in with the rest of the piece. You can even end up washing out your brown character despite choosing a strong brown color. You have to consider the background, lighting, undertones, the environment, and how they'll affect your character. There may even be times desaturated colors work better, but you have to at least consider why it works "better".

Let's take a look at everyone's favorite manga artist right now, Ryoko Rui! Ryoko Rui is praised often for her diverse character roster and creature design, however I always found her darker skin tones rather... lacking, as such for the elf Cithis.

(I color picked her skin tone and it matched my light grey shades above lol)

Her skin tone is very washed out and grey. She not nearly as dark as she appears in the manga. Once again, there's that dissonance between skin tones. Now take a look at the manga's grey tones.

When you see this, what skin tone do you imagine for her? Do you imagine the greyish, washed out tones from above or do you imagine something more akin to these black fae models I found?

(credit: @jaharajayde on twitter and @glassmarigolds on pinterest)

I'll give Rui credit that her color illustrations of Cithis improved and she's gotten better giving Cithis stronger undertones. I really like how the fandom has been illustrating her too, there's been some amazing fanart of Cithis such as these (the lighting in the last one is lovely).

Just adding saturation helps so much with skin tone. I even found an fan edit of Soma that added more color back into his skin, and he looks so much better for it.

One might say, "Oh what's wrong with having grey skin tones in a fantasy story!" Well... nothing really! You can have green or purple or blue characters if you like. But when there's already a startlingly lack of brown characters in a fantasy story, it can get awfully uncomfortable seeing the story portray different fantasy "races" with obviously non white racial features... but don't want to include any black/brown skin tones.

(fantasy artists would sooner give an orc dreads than a human, forget a "noble" creature like an elf... such decisions only reveals the artists' viewpoints)

It all just comes back down to avoiding that dreaded "brown". When it comes to these "reasons", we have to question whether they aren't just more excuses to not include black and brown people in stories, which makes me come to my next point:

Essence of Brown

There's some severe misinformation I want to address about Soma. I saw a fan a while ago say that Soma has a white mother which explains why he has light skin.

Firstly, that information is false. It was a concept Yana had for Soma, but quickly decided to drop it. Soma is not half white.

In the early drafts of the series, Soma had a white mother and, thus, white skin. However, this was later omitted in final revisions.

(quoted from the official kuroshitsuji wiki as an excerpt from the character guide)

Yes, you can have mixed parents and any kind of skin tone really! But it feels... dishonest to create "reasons" why the manga's first major Indian character, joining a cast of white people in a European country, should have white skin as well. Especially considering Yana's artstyle, without Soma's skin tone and Indian wardrobe, is his physical characteristics like his face even distinguishable enough for him not to be mistaken as white?

Imagine I wrote a story set in France, and teased an appearance of an African character in story that only had white characters until now, only for him to be completely white in appearance, and identical to every other white man, except for the occasionally exotic dress and other drab stereotypes.

What would you think? That his race is only a dressing to fulfill an exotic need at times? That he's a supposed homage to another culture, but it's wrong to have him actually look like the majority of people who made said culture? Why is he even this way?

Did he have a white parent? A white upbringing? Lived in a white culture, lived a white life? Maybe he was separated from birth! From his hometown, his country, his people, anything to justify why my "brown" character is so divorced from that part of his identity, from that side of the family whose skin tone runs a little too dark.

And I think that's why Yana decided to drop the concept of giving him a white mother. Why go through all those loopholes and explanations? Why all that justification for him to have white skin?

It's just another way to avoid the "browness" again for a character, what makes them brown in the first place and related to black/brown cultures. It's what we should consider in the future when we find ourselves coming up with "reasons" why black/brown characters should be anything but themselves.

Whitewashing in Anime - Soma ft. Usopp

[phonification]

ive been thinking about taco and balloon forming a little alliance post s1/ pre s2 where they'd (begrudgingly) work together planning on how to break into hotel OJ to steal stuff to take back to their makeshift camp like food, blankets, pillows, etc,,, anything that could be useful to them

[fairyroses]

— SMALLVILLE, “Wither” (6.03)

[pikslasrce]

[writing-good-vibes]

mother is the name for god

here we are, my first fic for halloween ends. honestly i've wanted to write something since the movie came out and i'm pretty happy with this !! WARNING for corey having major mommy issues, general themes of depression and anxiety, implied emotional and mildly implied psychical abuse

No matter how badly Corey tried to stay out of his momma's clutches, it was no use. It never worked. And he had been trying, in one way or another, for as long as he could remember. He could never get away. This is how it was meant to be.

By the time they get home from the courthouse, it's way past dinner. Corey was still in his suit, an off-the-rack two piece he'd had since high school and had been forgotten at the back of his closet, until now. It still felt itchy on his back, enough to make his skin crawl, even after so many months of hearings.

Ronald was driving, his driving posture relaxed, though his tense fingers on the steering wheel gave him away. Momma was talking in the passenger seating, damning the judge and the jury and the Allens -- anyone else she could think of really -- for their incompetence. For putting her boy through what they did. Corey sat silently in the back, low in his seat as they re-entered Haddonfield.

When they stop to pick up dinner from the Chinese restaurant in town, Corey should be pleased. He doesn't think he could stomach his momma's cooking, especially not after the day he'd had. But he doesn't feel much like celebrating either, even when momma let's them eat their take out off of tv trays in the lounge.

Corey goes to bed as soon as he can. He watches the soft blink of the radio tower in the distance, but it doesn't lull him to sleep like it sometimes managed too. He rolls onto his side instead, squinting without his glasses to watch the clock on his bedside tick over, one minute after the next. He can feel it, the churning wave inside him that is building, pulling back from the shore like a tsunami before impact. It starts to overwhelm him. the weight of the world that had been forced into his shoulders was finally going to crush him, Corey thinks, a weight so heavy he was scared he'd never be able to get up again.

He needs to escape before the wave breaks and there's only one place to go. Only one place left.

He gets out of bed, feet landing lightly on the floorboards. A habit. Corey drags the blanket from the end of his bed, a greying baby blue thing he's had since he was small, and sets off down the hall.

Ronald comes out of his parents bedroom, and Corey flinches as though he's been caught doing something he shouldn't be. A moment passes between them that feels longer than it probably is. Ronald smiles, something close to sympathetic but not quite. He must see something though, in the way Corey's eyes are wet or in the twitch of his lip. He's seen Corey cry before.

The moment passes and he claps Corey on the shoulder, "It's okay, kid. It'll be okay." Ronald continues down the hall and down the stairs.

Momma's bedroom door creaks, it has for as long as Corey can remember. He cracks the door to his momma's room and peers inside. She's sat up in bed, glasses slipping down her nose and smoothing lotion into her hands.

"Ronald," she starts before looking up at the door. When she sees instead that it is Corey, she frowns. Her voice grates in the quiet night, "Corey? What are you doing out of bed?"

But Corey is already inside, shutting the door behind him and he can't stop his lip from quivering, can't stop the tears blurring his vision even further as he drags the blanket along behind him.

"Oh," Joan throws her arms open and beckons her baby forward. "Corey, come here."

Corey crawls under the comforter, in besides his mother. He cries; endless tears trailing down his cheeks and his nose streaming. His momma pulls him into her arms, against her chest. All he can smell is the old fashioned perfume she wears and the cigarettes they both pretend she doesn't smoke. All he can feel is the softness of her nightgown and her cruel, fierce embrace. He's tried running away from it before, but for once in his whole life, this is all he wants.

"Momma," he cries, letting himself hold onto her for dear life. "Momma, m'sorry, m'sorry, m'sorry..."

She shushes him gently, not in that whip sharp way she would when he got too rowdy as a child, a sound that served as a warning for something sharper to come. No, this time is was gentle, so genuinely gentle, that it made him cry even harder.

"It's okay, baby," and Corey doesn't see the ghost of a smile on her lips, "your mother will always, always love you."

When Corey first started preschool, he cried every single day. The other parents at the school yard, the ones Joan spoke to before alienating them entirely, told her it that yes, it was difficult, but now was the right time to cut the apron strings. That Corey needed to learn how to socialise. Joan smiled tightly and pushed down the anger that surged through her. How could these people tell her it was the right thing to do, to let her baby hurt so much? Every day Corey cried, and every day he would come home, climb into his momma's lap and let her rock him. The years would pass by and he'd learn better.

His breath rattles softly in his chest as the tears dry up and he finally catches his breath and Corey falls into an empty, dreamless sleep.

In the morning he will wake up and know that he let himself fall back into her clutches. Know that she has him. But tonight he stays where he is, clinging to his mother.

[tacticaldiary]

It All Comes Crashing Down

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

She presses the metal radio against her lips and mumbles her final words, hoping that although he has not spoken, he would hear.

"I love you, Simon.

A/N: The classic 'bomb my location' fic you've all been waiting for! This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks, so I'm glad I finally got it out- I'm thinking about a part 2 where she wakes up and it's some extra fluff, maybe?

Masterlist

She takes a shaky breath in as her hands grip her rifle tighter, but when she speaks her voice is as steady and firm as ever.

"Bomb my location."

The words are acrid on her tongue, but they feel right to her heart. Her mind is in disarray, trying to piece together any other solution that won't have her ending up under dead under pounds of rubble, but she knows deep down that there's no other way out of this.

An entire enemy organisation eliminated at the expense of one soldier.

It was a win-win for everyone but her.

And that was alright. She's made her peace with it, made it the moment she signed her name on those documents giving her life away to the tang of blood and the scent of gunsmoke.

"Level the building." She continues, wincing at another hail of fire that rains upon her. Heavy footsteps and orders barked in Russian move around her location. Steadily being surrounded, there was little hope for a smooth extraction or escape anyway. "Have Soap blow the charges, Captain. Then send in the airship and raze this hellhole to the ground."

"Like hell we're doing that." Gaz's voice comes through her comms, frustrated. "We're not leaving her, Price." They must have rendezvoused successfully, because Gaz doesn't speak through the comms, rather it sounds as if he's turning away his head to speak to the man directly.

It brings a small smile to her face despite the circumstances. Her boys would get out of this, at least.

Simon. Her mind flashes to her Simon and she thanks whoever's above that they had split up before everything went to shit.

It had been fine at first. She was setting the charges they needed to bring the building down while he fetched the intel from somewhere else, and really, she should have been suspicious when it all went smoothly.

She'd planted the last charge before the enemy started closing in.

Like rats, they seemed to emerge out of nowhere shooting her down and pinning her until she had no choice but to slip away and barricade herself in one of the nearby rooms. The entrance and exits were likely swarmed with people and here she sat, in the heart of it all.

Unreachable, untouchable.

She sort of tunes out the muted conversation on the other end, lets the ringing on her head take over. Loud angry cursing, yelling in distinctive Scottish, the harsh rasp of her Captain telling everyone to calm down...it all floats through her mind.

Everyone but Ghost.

She doesn't hear his voice...but he was alive, wasn't he? She'd seen him slip out of the building through the window in front of her, so she knows he must have gotten out. The thought makes her gut curl up, brings her back to the present.

"Negative, Sergeant." Price's voice cuts through her thoughts, much louder than the others. "We're mapping out a route to come get you-"

"Price, it'll be suicide." Perhaps it's the way her voice softens and quiets, the gentle way she talks so different from the harsh way she's spoken earlier. It's as if she's accepted it, is content to lay down and allow herself to be swallowed by the dirt she came from. "I'm one soldier. Don't make yourself visit more than one coffin."

"I'm going to-"

"Set off the charges."

There's a beat of silence, painstaking silence where nobody speaks. Even the gunfire outside the room she's barricaded in seems to fade out for a moment.

"Copy."

A death sentence coming from the man she considered family.

It cracks a smile out of her. She squeezes her eyes shut, lets her head fall against the blood spattered wall behind her.

"Make sure my replacement's just as much a pain in the ass to you, alright?" If the way her voice breaks at the end of her last sentence is noticed, it's not brought up. "Simon's gotta have someone to push around, yeah?"

"There's no replacing you."

There's arguing. Soap and Gaz are yelling, and it's startling because she's never heard either of them shout the way they are, at their Captain nonetheless.

It's comforting to know she was cared for, even if she's about to die.

A sudden bang on her door makes her jump. Muffled Russian filters through the old wood. Someone ramming at it with something, trying to break it down.

But it doesn't really matter, does it? She'll be going out on her own terms even if they find her now.

Ghost...Simon. Where was he? If there was one thing that'd settle her mind right now it'd be hearing that gravelly voice, even if it was merely yelling at her, telling her how stupid it was to suggest what she has.

A desperation claws at her chest, deep down. She wants Simon, wants to spend the night in his bed again, wants to hug him, feel his skin, wants to see those rare smiles of his one more time.

Just once.

Just one more time before she-

"Charges setting off in 5-"

How cruel was the world?

She hopes Simon knows that she didn't mean to leave him. That she wanted him to go on without her, to not fall into the void of 'what-if's.' It wasn't his fault.

Her eyes burn but she refuses to let out the helpless sob clawing its way up her throat. She wants...she wants so much. Wants to do so much more, wants to live, and breathe and smile and laugh and experience and live. Simon. She wants to tell him so much more.

If she could go back in time and fill their silences with all the words she wants him to know right now, she'd do it in a heartbeat.

It's an impulsive decision, how her hand shoots up to grab at her radio frantically. Switching it to the private line between just the two of them, she presses the metal against her lips and mumbles her final words, hoping that although he has not spoken, he would hear.

"I love you, Simon."

The ground crumbles beneath her, the world turns to black.

                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Slipping out of the small shed, he tucks the papers into his vest. For a multi-national organisation, they sure were stupid as hell when hiding their intel.

Scanning the grounds for any movement, Ghost moves out, keeping to the shadows until he reaches the edge of the field that morphed into the woods farther down.

"Intel secured, moving to rendezvous point now." He says into his comms. He frowns when he doesn't get an answer back, grabbing his radio and speaking again, casting a glance back into the foliage in the distance where he knows the others have staked their place to operate from.

Price, Gaz, and Soap were operating remotely, dealing with drones and distant detonation devices, whereas the other two had infiltrated the building separately.

Plant the charges and secure the intel. Simple tasks made difficult when they both realised that the intel wasn't in the building, but instead in the shed attached to the side of the complex instead. Splitting up had been the most logical thing to do, even when Ghost had refused at first.

"It'll be fine. Quick and easy, right?" She'd told him with a grin. "Get that intel before I'm out of the building and maybe I'll give you an extra treat when we get back." Ghost had rolled his eyes at her suggestive wink.

"Does anyone copy?" He says into the object. He's met with nothing but muffled crackling and garbled speech, tinny and indecipherable. Ghost scowls at the machine, ripping it off of his vest and turning it over. It crackles and pops with bursts of sound but nothing cohesive enough to interpret

"I-...ou...Simon"

"Fucking thing's busted." He mumbles to himself, shoving the item back into his vest, his hand brushing against the folder of intel he's successfully recovered from the shed attached to the main building.

He can spot one of the convoy vehicles near the edge of the woods, but he doesn't let his guard down even as he crosses the field towards it.

Ghost barely takes a step through the dead grass before the building behind him goes up in an explosion that makes even him unsteady with the force of it. Flames lick up the east side of the massive structure and Ghost takes a second to watch as it crumbles in on itself sending up clouds of dust and debris.

Good fucking riddance.

He's looking forward to getting the hell out of this place once he rendezvous with everyone else. This mission had stretched on for far longer than it should have, the elusive bastards slipping away through their fingers time and time again with dirty, underhanded tactics.

The foliage grows thicker as he steps into the woods, rifle at the ready. A click of a safety had him raising his weapon and spinning around immediately.

When he sees a very familiar mohawk, however, he lowers his weapon instantly. "Blue!" He says loudly, bringing up a hand to half Soap. "Just me, Johnny."

Soap follows suit and lowers his weapon, his shoulders visibly relaxing the tiniest bit. "Welcome back." He says, but something about his voice makes Ghost uneasy. "Price and...and the others are prepping exfil." He gestures towards the clearing.

"Everyone else made it back?" He asks as they push through the meager trees and into the open space where soldiers are rushing around tying up loose ends.

"Aye." Soap chokes out.

Ghost would question it, but he's too busy doing a sweep of the clearing, putting names to faces. Price and Gaz were there, going back and forth over something. It strikes him a little odd how furious Gaz looks, Price looking so resigned but he pushes it away in favour of catching a glimpse of the person he's more inclined to spot.

"We tried what we could, but she was pinned down." Soap breaks the silence, misinterpreting the reason behind his silent staring at Gaz and Price. "We didn't...Laswell's insisting immediate evac, but Gaz wants to at least find a body to bury." A bitter laugh that makes Ghost's stomach drop like a stone.

"What?"

Soap rakes a bloody hand through his hair, shakes his head, and continues on like he's in some sort of shock. "I don't want to. I think she'd rather us leave her buried there than dig out bits and pieces and bury her again." His voice cracks.

Bury...?

There's only one woman in their team.

There's only one person he hasn't accounted for in the clearing.

There's only one person he hasn't reached on his comms before they broke.

The world spins, his mind screams and falls silent, a crescendo of noise and denial. The ground shifts beneath his feet, rocking him into a state that makes him feel like he's walking on string.

"MacTavish." His words are so calm and even, it's eerie. "Is my girl still in the building?" He feels detached from himself, perhaps a way to distance himself from the pain of the implied.

Soap looks at him for a long moment, then croaks out one, broken word.

"Was."

And it all comes crashing down.

He's been through torture before. Had his skin marred, his fingernails torn off, been hung from his ribs but nothing, nothing has ever come close to the way his heart twists.

Nothing had ever made him panic in a way that has his throat closing up.

"Christ." Johnny breathes, and it's a sound that drags him back from the brink of something horrible. Soap's eyes are fixed on the empty spot on his vest that holds his radio on normal days, horrified. "You didn't bloody know." He states.

Wasting time answering is useless. Talking, speaking breathing is useless because not a moment later Ghost is sprinting towards the rubble.

The rubble that he had just watched fallen. The building he'd stood there and watched fall down, had felt pride and relief in seeing.

His gear digs into him, the air thickens with smoke and dust but he doesn't stop. Vaguely he hears people yelling after him, hears Price and Gaz and Soap and every other motherfucker who stood by and detonated the charges. Friend or foe it didn't matter to him right now. If someone dared to get in his way he'd mow them all down, grind them into nothing and keep going.

They blew the charges.

The airship would be here any minute to finish the job.

No, he'd get to her by then. Ghost slams down into the ground somewhere near where they split off. He'd find her by then, and he'd bring her back, bring her to medical and she'd be fine in a week or two.

There was no other fucking option.

The debris rakes off the fabric of his gloves, splits the skin on his fingertips as he hauls and pushes and pulls and digs through stone and metal and wood, leaving evidence of his efforts in the form of his own blood behind.

She had to be okay.

Not her. Not like his mother, not like his brother, not like his nephew.

Not her.

He digs, calls out her name until his voice is hoarse, pulls away piece after piece of rubble until his fingers are torn to shreds.

Just as he hears the sounds of incoming aircraft, he spots something that makes the knot in his chest slam against his ribcage in pure and utter terror.

It's been a while since Simon has felt fear this pure.

Hair that he's familiar with, strands that he's gripped and gently soothes his fingers through peek out from under the piece of metal he's just lifted.

Unable to breathe, his attempts at moving the earth increase tenfold. He picks off stone after stone, brick after brick until more of her body is uncovered. Still, unmoving, bleeding. Once he's gotten her top half free, he hesitates for one horrible moment because what if he looks down to see a still chest?

Steeling himself, he bites the bullet and curls an arm around her waist, pulling her out of the debris.

The relief that slams into him when he feels her shallow, breaths against his palm is almost enough to send him to his knees.

"I've got you, love." He mumbles, half to himself as he adjusts her in his arms. She's dead weight, pulse barely there but present.

Cuts and bruises, Ghost can name at least five lacerations and countless other places she's bleeding from, a broken arm, leg, and who knows what kind of internal bleeding.

Alive.

But still alive.

And that was enough because like hell Ghost was going to let the one good thing in his life slip through his fingers ever again. He'd drag whoever he needed to her aid, he'd go to hell and back just to make sure she got to open her eyes again.

With limps that ache and a heart that's heavy, he quickly moves them out of the rubble, just in time to see two aircraft circling their location. They hadn't dropped any explosives yet, which a far part of Simon's brain thinks might be Price's doing.

Uncaring of whoever was watching, because frankly everyone could fuck off right now and it would be preferable, Ghost presses his lips to her hair as he moves into the clearing with her.

"Medic!" He barks out. "Right fucking now!"

He ignores Gaz's strangled gasp, ignores the way the entire team approaches them and tries to help. Ghost is a little concerned that if he let the adrenaline that's pumping through his veins go, he might just collapse as well, and that was unacceptable at the moment.

A weak hand grasps at the front of his vest, his eyes snapping immediately to her at the movement.

"S...'mon?" She says, words so faint he barely hears them?

"I'm here." He confirms, pressing his face to her hair harder. "I've got you, darling." He whispers. "I've got you."

It soothes her, because she nods against him and lets herself relax. It's only then that Simon notices she's holding something in her good hand in a deathly tight grip.

Upon closer inspection, it's a radio.

"I-...ou...Simon"

Fucking hell. His grip on her tightens.

She'd been trying to contact him in what she thought were her last moments, and he'd never have known because his fucking radio was broken.

It doesn't matter, he tells himself, chants it over and over again in his mind. He's got her again, and like hell is he ever letting go now.

When the medics bring out a stretcher, Price has to talk him into letting her go down into him, practically ordering him to let the bloody medics do their jobs. He doesn't stray far, however, keeping a hand on her at all times. Sat next to where they were working on her in the helicopter back, never once do his eyes stray from her unconscious form.

She wakes up once or twice, whines, and fights against the medic's hands with a panic-induced haze. Every time Simon is there, holding her hand, muttering rough, soothing praise and assurances.

It calms her down immediately, the trust in those far away pain-addled eyes when they meet his is enough to make his heart twist.

Simon stays with her the entire time, and then takes residence in a seat next to her hospital bed on base, ready for when she wakes up.

Hell would freeze over before Simon would ever let them be apart again.

If that makes him selfish, then so be it.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(12/08/2023)

[idkwhatever580]

Embarrassed

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x enhanced!reader (Reader has powers like Wanda's but pink because I'm the author and I can do what I want, and my fav color is pink)

Prompt: Reader's best friend Wanda informs reader about this new thing she learned with Agatha that amped up their sex life. Reader decides to try it out with Nat, and the outcome is better than expected.

Warnings: SMUT, enchanted strap, bondage, slapping, daddy kink (daddy is not a reflection of your gender just a term I used i swear!) cumming without permission?/warning?, swearing, tmi? (Is there such thing as tmi between best friends?), teasing. Top!Reader (semi soft)

A/N: I already had this in my drafts partially finished but then I got a rq and I thought I could incorporate it into this so yeah :) thanks for the request @keirannoa420 <3 (I made reader afab but I think I made them gn for everything else I hope that isn't a problem!)

Today is a simple day for the Avengers. Almost nobody is on a mission today, so everyone is doing their own thing to decompress and rest. Especially since last week was horrible. It was just mission after mission for you and the others.

From what you know, Tony and Bruce are in their lab, Steve and Buck went on a date after visiting Peggy's grave to give her the monthly flowers, Clint went back with his family, Thor and Loki are back at Asgard until needed, Nat is reading in her library, Agatha is in a therapy session (she is still healing from her witchy trauma, good on her!), Vision is probably floating around somewhere, Peter is with Aunt May, the rest of the younger ones are out and about, while you and Wanda are catching up on a much-needed yapping session.

"Omg did you hear what happened on Sam and Tony's mission yesterday?"

You sit up being intrigued, "No, what happened?"

She giggles at the thought of what happened, and says, "He- he"

She can't even tell you what happened without bursting into laughter. "He what! Oh my gosh stop laughing and tell me what happened!"

Your need to hear what happened overpowering your patience, but Wanda eventually can control her laughs into a soft snicker every now and then, "He had to run into the building instead of his usual flying, and he ended up slipping and falling on his back and rolling around because it was raining! Sam got the whole thing recorded thanks to redwing!"

You burst into laughter at the thought of Tony slipping, this surely hurt his ego more than anything. You gasp and say, "Wait... can I see the video? Do you have it?"

She laughs and grabs her phone, "Of course I have the video! I would say I'm surprised you don't have it, but I forgot your phone broke."

You roll your eyes at the reminder of not having a phone to do your daily social media things, but Nat says you need a break from your phone. Joke's on her, you're just bothering her more. (She secretly likes it)

You're drawn away from your thoughts when Wanda holds her phone to your face, the video of Tony slipping funnier than you pictured.

(volume is not necessary for this one)

You both started laughing so hard that tears fell from your eyes, but you both eventually calmed down and were able to change the subject. "So, how's Aggie? I feel like I haven't seen her in months even though I've only been on a mission for a week."

She smiles softly and says, "She's good. Her twice-a-week therapy sessions are really impacting her in a good way. I think she might be having a bit of a hard time adjusting to the Avengers though. She still gets overwhelmed sometimes. Which is what I was scared about. I didn't want to bring her into this space after nine whole months of secretly dating just for her to regress on her progress, but I think she is getting there. Her communication skills are definitely getting better which is helping me accommodate to her needs you know?"

You smile and nod knowingly, "Yeah, I remember coming here for the first time from being a S.H.E.I.L.D. agent, it was terrifying, but my relationship with Nat only grew from where we were. Something is bound to blossom from her too. Anything else interesting with you two?"

Wanda sends me a small smirk and says, "I've been trying out new spells and tricks to cast and I happened to fall upon an interesting spell."

You raise an eyebrow with a tentative voice, "Interesting how?"

She giggles and says, "Okay, so obviously we talk about our sex lives a lot together, but this spell just made bedroom time way better. It's a spell to make an inanimate object basically a part of you. You can feel it and everything that happens to it. So, I tested this spell out on a certain strap-on that we use and let me just say I've never felt so good before. I think you should really try it on Nat, the first time I did it to Aggie, she literally cried because she felt so good."

You raise your eyebrows suggestively and say, "That is quite the interesting find Wands. I'm impressed. You'll have to show me the spell. I think I might try it out on Natty tonight if I can do it right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few tries of this new spell with Wanda, you're able to feel everything that happens to the tv remote in your leg. You smirk at Wanda and go to exit the room just as Agatha comes back. You send your goodbyes and almost sprint to Natasha's library, making sure to stop by your room to get a certain backpack.

The joys of having your own floor with Natasha means that the things on that floor are only used by the both of you, unless otherwise provoked. So, you know nobody is going to be walking into this space. This also means that you guys can literally fuck anywhere on that floor, but you are so excited to try this spell on her.

You slow down right before you enter and you saunter in, even though Nat has her noise cancelling headphones on, so you know she won't hear you. You come up behind her and softly rest your arms on her shoulders slowly creeping down to kiss her cheek.

She pulls off her headphones and says, "Hello detka. Do you need anything?"

You simply nod your head and give her a soft kiss on the lips to distract her before carefully snatching the current book she is invested in. She lets go of it but not without a pout, "Baby, I was reading that."

You carefully set the book down after putting a bookmark in. Then you walk around and pull her headphones off her ears which makes her even more confused. Until you sit in her lap and snuggle up to her neck. She softly smiles and starts rubbing patterns on your back. "Aww baby, did you want cuddles?"

You nod your head innocently and she says, "Well I can do that while also reading my book so can I have it back?"

You shake your head, and she realizes there's something else you want. She raises an eyebrow, and skeptically says, "What else is it? Did you do something?"

You pull away from her neck and shake your head, "No, I didn't do nothin', but I'm 'bout to."

She furrows her beautiful brows in confusion but notices the glint in your eyes. She knows this look; she has seen it a million times before. How could she miss it? So, she pouts and says, "Aww is my detka a bit horny?"

You nod your head and whisper, "I want to try something new today."

She smirks and nods, always willing to try everything once, well, almost everything. "Of course, detka, what is it you were wanting to try?"

You smile and say, "You're gonna have to wait and find out."

She rolls her eyes at your antics, but you kiss her on the lips and the words that were on the tip of her tongue fade away quickly.

You both start making out softly, a tenderness infiltrates your hearts that only you two can replicate with each other. The kiss quickly turns aggressive though. Her hands falling to your hips to steady them when they start to move on their own, while yours go to her hair to softly tug on the luscious, fiery locks.

Moans start to spill out of you when your core starts to rub on her thigh, and she starts to unbutton your pants trying to get directly to the source, but you push her away. Before she can question your antics, you reach behind her lounge chair to grab the backpack and wave it in front of her face. She smiles and you both stand up to undress yourselves, not bothering to do it for the other, instead choosing efficiency.

Once she has the strap securely tightened around her hips, you push her back down and sit just before the silicon cock, butt resting on her thighs. "I need you to hold still and be quiet for a moment, okay?"

She furrows her brows and says, "Wait, what are you doing?"

You smile at her and say, "I just need you to trust me so I can work my magic." You kiss her doubts away and whisper, "I think you're going to quite like this."

You cast the spell silently and when it is done, you look in her eyes and there is nothing, but confusion written all over her face. "What did you do?"

You smirk and spit on your hand before softly rubbing the tip of the dildo making her hips jerk. "Woah."

You smirk and say, "Woah indeed. Did that feel good?"

She nods her head and says, "Seriously Y/n, what did you do to me?"

You giggle and say, "I made you be able to feel everything like it is your own."

You shimmy your body down to be eye level with the pink sparkly attachment, and you look up into her eyes with yours being doe like from this angle and you slowly take her length into your mouth.

This new sensation causing Nat to moan helplessly and thread her fingers through your hair. You softly start to play with yourself and stretch yourself out, while making sure to not give her too much stimulation. Once you deem yourself ready to take her, you pull away and Nat glares at you. "Why'd you pull away?"

You smile and kiss her worries away, "So I can do this..."

You grab the attachment and slowly slide yourself onto her. Moaning at the size. She always seems to be so big even when you take her all the time. She moans extra loud when you take her to the hilt, and suddenly her hips jerk and her eyes roll to the back of her head.

You force her to look into your eyes and then you start to bounce up and down while grinding onto her.

Although you are feeling very good, your sole intention is to make Nat feel good today. "How does it feel baby?"

She opens her mouth to say something, but only a measly gasp is heard. After a while, she finally is able to conjure a sentence, "Fuck... it feels- so good."

You smirk and say, "Yeah? You like feeling this pussy clench around you?"

She whimpers and nods her head biting her lip to stifle her sounds. Usually you wouldn't let that slide, but since it is her first time feeling this, you'll give her some grace.

You start to bounce up and down on her cock more aggressively and her hands tighten around your hips. She is completely still excepting the few involuntary thrusts her hips make, which make you moan at the spot she hits when she does this.

Nat's head is thrown back and she finally lets go of her lip, allowing all the beautiful sounds to tumble out of her throat. Her pathetic noises are so hot to you and even hotter when she tries to speak, "Y/n I- it feels, I-"

All of a sudden, her words are cut off with an almost pornographic moan, which makes you so wet because you never hear her be this vocal. Her hips start thrusting into you uncontrollably and her hands are scratching into your hips, not that you care.

You furrow your eyebrows as hers raise in surprise and embarrassment. You slow down and say, "Did you... did you just cum?"

Natasha lets out an exhausted breath and looks at anything but you, until you move her by her chin to look into your eyes. When she sees your eyes, she tears up a bit, "I'm sorry I don't know what's wrong with me! I usually last way longer than that! I wasn't even prepared for it; it just sprang up on me."

She starts to ramble, so you shut her up with a kiss and when you pull away you chuckle softly, "Natty baby, I don't know why you came so fast, but I'll bet you it has something to do with the fact that this spell makes you feel things you've never felt before huh?"

She nods her head, and you smile, "Do you want to keep going or do you want to stop?"

She frowns and says, "I want you to cum."

You smile and shake your head, "That's not what I asked darling, I asked about you."

She thinks about it, and then a nasty thought pops into her brain, and she says, "I wanna keep going."

So, you nod your head, and keep moving and grinding on her, this time she makes it about five minutes before the same thing happens.

You become beyond confused as it looks like she just came again. Once she calms down, you tentatively ask, "Did you just... again?"

Her eyes widen and her face turns redder than her hair. She tears up a bit and tries to shove you off of her to inevitably run off and hide from her embarrassment, but you push on her hips, and she moans again. She still tries to get away, so you cut her thoughts off with soft tone saying, "Darling, don't worry, it's okay if you did, you know? It is a new sensation, and it is normal to have a crazy reaction to it."

She previously covered her red face with her hands to hide, so you carefully pull her hands down and smile at her small frame. "Tasha, why are you hiding from me?"

She finally cracks and says, "Because! That was so embarrassing! I've never finished that fast! So, I am embarrassed because I didn't even get to last long enough to have fun, and don't even mention the fact that you didn't get anything out of it!"

You pout at her with fake pity, "Oh darling," You brush her already sweaty hair out of her face and clench your pussy on her strap making her moan at the feeling, "You don't have to worry about that, trust me, we are going to have fun all night. You'll be begging me to stop."

She timidly nods her head, and you say, "Is that okay?"

She nods and says, "I really want to keep going."

You smile and nod your head, but before you can start riding her again, she pulls you off of her swiftly and flips you over on your hands and knees, slipping right back into your wet cunt.

She leans over to whisper in your ear, "I'm gonna fuck this pussy so hard."

You can only moan in response because she's already thrusting deep and hard into your insides. You consider giving in to her and letting her take over, but you already made your mind up ahead of time and she is not getting in your way. So, with a flick of your wrist, she is flipped over, and ropes appear and tie themselves around her wrists.

You crawl up to her as the pink glimmers fade from your eyes, and shake your head, "Thought you could get away with it huh?"

She doesn't answer and you slap her breast making her jerk and yelp out, "I asked you a question, didn't I?"

She meekly nods her head, and you say, "Then I expect you to answer it."

She nods her head again and you say, "Don't make me ask again."

"Yes! I thought I could get away with it! Please daddy!"

You bite your lip at the power trip you're getting from this, but you make sure to soften up and check on Nat knowing she only uses 'daddy' when she's extra sensitive, "I want you to use the color system just like always, okay? Can you tell me a color?"

She doesn't even hesitate before saying, "Yes! Green, please daddy!"

A sigh falls from your lips at hearing that and you nod your head. "Okay baby, you know I'm not gonna be nice to you right?"

She whimpers and nods her head closing her eyes to center herself. You smirk and flip her over, making the dildo hit the bed when you push her hips down on the bed.

She moans out and you lean forward, your lips brushing softly over the shell of her ear, and you whisper, "Do not cum."

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head knowing she's already sensitive from previous orgasms, and she whines out, "No! Please daddy!"

You chuckle at her desperation and say, "If you're good tonight, I'll find a spell to make it so that you can cum in me too."

She shudders at the thought of being able to "breed" you and both of you feel it, so regardless of how much she already wants to cum, she nods her head and takes a breath to prepare herself.

Right before you are about to start, she yelps out, "Wait!"

You freeze in worry that she doesn't want this anymore, so you pause and look to her and let her speak. Her words come out the first time a quiet jumbled mess so you say, "What was that babe?"

She looks over her shoulder and says a little louder this time, "Can I hold a pillow?"

You think about it for a moment, and ultimately decide that if you're not going to comfort her until after, she might as well have something else to find comfort in, so you nod your head and she grabs a pillow. Once she is situated you wait for her queue and when she nods her head you begin to massage her ass a bit before pulling back and landing a harsh slap on her butt.

Natasha's hips jerk away from your hand, and in turn makes her strap rut against the bed stimulating her. She lets out a mix between a moan and a groan because she feels good, but she also knows you put limitations on her.

You continue your assault on her now red and pink ass, and the lewd sounds that are emitting from Nat's throat are making you more wet than you'd like to admit.

You slap her ass again, and she starts to uncontrollably hump the mattress, and you won't allow her to cum without asking so you grab her hips and lift them from the bed before she can stimulate herself any further. She groans and pleads, "Please. ugh please I need it!"

You simply chuckle and shake your head, "Need it so bad you're willing to give up cumming for a week?"

Her eyes widen at that threat and she whimpers knowing she might not be able to hold back since the last two came out of nowhere, but you lay her back down and say, "two more, then you can cum again."

She nods her head, crossing her fingers that she makes it, and out of nowhere the second to last slap is let out on her skin. It is way harder than all the others, so in turn, it makes Nat almost forget about what you said. Almost.

You hum and rub her ass tenderly, not letting her know when the last one is coming, and the second she whimpers again you pull back and hit her ass so hard it has her shoving her hips back into you.

She catches her breath and rolls around. You tell her to hold still as you are about to disenchant the strap, but Nat says, "Wait, baby, what are you doing?"

You furrow your brows and say, "I thought you said you were done after this orgasm?"

She nods and says, "I held it, I wanna cum with you on my cock."

Her eyes are so sweet and soft you simply can't refuse, so you let her win this time, riding her cock until the both of you come, and then you end up just laying together in a moment of tenderness.

"I love you detka."

"I love you too Natty, I'm glad you liked the surprise."

"Oh, I loved it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @symp4nat @ale-estrabao

Comment to be added to the taglist!!! I have a list of prompts coming out after this :)))

A/N: I hope y'all liked it!!! (Did you catch my Love and Death reference???) Also, I apologize for the rushed ending, I really needed to get this out.

[rumisgf]

KIRSHIMA BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS

summary: kiri boyfriend hcs because he needs more love. also this has been in my drafts for too long but i finished it y’all, round of applause!

includes: fluff, female pronouns, black!reader cs duh, crack

✧ and the best boyfriend award goes to

✧ before y’all even started dating he was always so sweet to you, opening doors for you whether it was at the food place or a car

✧ he has absolutely no shame making sure whenever he’s around, you never have to lift a finger

✧ he helps you up the stairs, buys you food whenever you’re hungry, even ties your shoes for you

✧ i mean he’s your boyfriend, it’s manly!!

✧ speaking of, one of the most attractive things about him is how good he is with kids

✧ if you have nieces/nephews or baby sibling/cousins they definitely adore him and it’s so sweet

✧ and when you get far enough into your relationship, he’s eager to express that he does wanna have kids one day

✧ if you let him pull out his list of baby names he will be so happy

✧ i think eijirou is one of the men very comfortable in his masculinity compared to all the other men he’s around

✧ not to say they aren’t, but he definitely has no issue doing things deemed as “feminine” in the slightest

✧ besides, manliness to him is about not always having to prove you’re manly. you’re simply just manly.

✧ kiri will let you do his makeup all the time and he’ll post pictures on his story after

✧ and he’ll love if you do things deemed as “masculine” with no shame

✧ no matter how it sounds out loud, he’ll be like “my gf is so manly i love her”

✧ yes, you wanted to pop him the first time you heard him saying but it’s truly just how he talks he can’t help it😭😭

✧ (one time he called mina manly as a compliment and she smacked him dead in his face, though, so he doesn’t say it often)

“wow babe, you’re so manly!”

“thank you eij— wait.”

✧ even though he’s willing to do it in a heartbeat for you, kirishima has a hard time letting you buy him things

✧ it’s one traditional standard he can’t seem to shake and even then he just feels bad for some reason

✧ but weirdly, he still likes when you ask even if he’s just gonna say no😭

✧ it makes him feel bubbly that you still wanna spoil him too and maybe he’ll let you a few times

✧ one thing kirishima loves is helping you do your hair

✧ he already dyes his hair himself so i feel like he’ll be very knowledgeable about hair care

✧ and he’d do his own research for you

✧ mans learned how to part hair, he oils your scalp for you, even washes your hair for you, and he learned how to braid

✧ in return he loves when you help him dye his hair whenever his roots grow in too dark

✧ this man can barely go to sleep without cuddling you it’s starting to concern his friends a lil

✧ it’s the one thing he looks forward to at night and he always hold you so tight

✧ which is completely fine because i feel like he’d also have warm skin

✧ he’s definitely the type of boyfriend to refer to you as his lady

✧ he definitely has clips floating the internet of him calling you that during interviews at hero galas

“oh, tonight i’m here with my lady!

“i’m sure she’s somewhere, she’s still a little camera shy.”

✧ if you’re the quiet type, he absolutely has no problem speaking up for you or just talking when you’re too nervous

✧ kirishima loves picking you up, you could be with friends and he’ll randomly just hoist you up into his arms

✧ when he works out, he begs you to do things like spot him or sit on his back while he does push ups

✧ or lay under him while he does them so he can give you kisses

✧ although one habit he does have is hugging up all on you while he’s still sweaty after he comes back from the gym

✧ i think he’d love a partner who does sports, so if the school has any college teams he’ll try to convince you to join even if you never did sports in high school

✧ he also thinks it would be fun for you and he always wants you to have fun

✧ in general, he loves being able to make you smile

✧ if you’re ever having a bad day, he’s the best at giving advice or just comforting you

✧ and not to mention, gives top tier hugs

✧ when you start crying about anything he literally drops everything and runs to you

✧ to the point where even your friends will text him whenever you do and he’ll be there in an instant

✧ eijirou absolutely loves giving you flowers

✧ he’ll seriously find any excuse to show up wherever you are with a bouquet in hand ready to give to you

✧ valentine’s days? flowers

✧ birthday? flowers.

✧ passed an exam? flowers.

✧ having a bad day? flowers.

✧ having a good day? flowers.

✧ just because he felt like it? flowers

“awww this is so sweet baby, but what’s the occasion?”

“don’t worry about it sweetheart, just pose with ‘em so i can take pictures of your pretty self.”

✧ in conclusion, he’s the man of your dreams

@ rumisgf

[mayordea]

Happy birthday to the number one princess in the world!! 💖

~from her biggest fans :)

ramble of my scattered thoughts on the piece under cut as usual cuz i love talking 😋

This has been an idea I've been cookin for a while, and it was so cluttered and unlike any other ensemble piece I've made... and I decided I oughta do it anyway. I love Miku, I love Vocaloid, and I wanted to do something really ambitious and crazy for her anniversary. Crazy that she's turning her "canon" age this year TwT

I had the idea floating around since like, May...? And then finally started acting on it around June 18. I'm terrible with deadlines, obvious with how I can never make a silly birthday post in time, so I started wayyyy ahead to make sure I have some room to be lazy lol, especially with an idea as ambitious as this.

This was finished on July 12! So I had to sit on this for an annoying amount of time. Very difficult for someone like me who just wants to talk about everything I'm working on to the masses. But at the very least, that gave me the time to work on the draft for this post.

~~~

Here's some ~behind the scenes~ scribbles leading up to the finished piece!

Left is the chicken scratch plan i made in my handy dandy notebook (whenever things are getting real and ambitious, i always made a rough ROUGH plan in there. Usually I'd do a rough pass of the full thing, but this was too complicated for me to do traditionally. I majorly benefited from digital tools to make this possible). CyberDiva and CyberSongman were considered, but I ended up cutting them cuz I just didn't feel like drawing them sorry-- (just pretend they're off to the side. They gave Ruby and Clara the pizza lol). Right is the "final" completed sketch (before I decided to include Chika mid-way through coloring and VY1 and VY2 near the finish line). I started by drawing the main "groups" separated on a different canvas so I can plop them into the main canvas for easy rearranging and transforming. However I got lazy and ended up drawing everyone in the bottom right corner directly on the canvas since I liked seeing the big picture of everyone's positions. Y'know.

Almost excluded Chika! But I like her design so much that I just felt like including her last-minute. You win this time, Chika fans. VY1 and VY2 were very close to being cut! I added them when I began doing the banner and thought "eh why not". I figured their non-human designs would be pretty easy to include pushed back in the bg. Ik VY1 is more commonly associated with the fan design, but I referenced the hairpin cuz it was simpler and the fan looked very annoying to draw 😭

Sorry to the fans of many Vocaloids I had to cut because this composition was insane enough as is. I promise I wanted to include fellas like CUL, LUMi and Sachiko 😭 I will admit I was a little biased on who I wanted to include over others. Like, I don't normally care for Bruno and Clara, but I wanted to get some more international 'loids in the mix. Also wanted to stick in the realm of official designs and not fan-designs since, as much as I can appreciate those, are just a whole "wait who is that guy supposed to be" situation I didn't wanna deal with. I also did wanna include even more character references through the balloons, but they ended up being kind of ugly and overcomplicated the BG :,) (Oh, and while this was originally planned to be a Vocaloid-only piece, I did end up including Teto, Neru, and Haku 'cuz those are Miku's besties dude!!! They may not be Officially in the club but they're her girls and it would be criminal to not invite them to her birthday).

Anyway, this project marks the first time I've drawn a lot of Vocaloids. Lily, Piko, Rana, Yuki, Yukari, Miki, Maika, and many more lol. All of 'em I've heard or seen in passing, but now I actually drew them, and some have really cool and fun designs!! I got into a habit of drawing Merli after this since I just love her design for example. And I'll probably be drawing more lol!!

Oh and the last thing I'll add for now!! The cake is indeed made up of various song references!! I wanted to reference the "big four" producers, just absolute icons in Vocaloid history. The pink/black checkerboard is "World is Mine" (Ryo), the crescents on the side is "Rolling Girl" (Wowaka), the smiley faces is "Matryoshka" (Hachi), and the three hearts on the side is "The Vampire" (DECO*27, which is sort of a symbol of his whole Mannequin album tbh). I know "The Vampire" is a bit modern but I couldn't think of anything else off the top of my head. I'm a fake DECO fan I know 😔 "Matryoshka" was originally going to be referenced in the colors of the candles but believe me it looked like shit so I just went for something else last minute 😭

That's all I have to say!!! Hope you didn't mind the text wall if you made it here. I hope you like it as much as I do!!!! Happy freakin' birthday Miku!!!!

I have to deal with tagging all these characters now for my page,,, in the drafts my tags got cut off after a certain point so I think I'm massively breaching the tag limit 😭 um... I'll figure that out later...

not losing sleep that i can't tag everyone, even for page organization purposes because some characters have pretty generic names and some are a little hard to see in full yknow. If you're one of those people who tag every character in the art piece you reblog... I am very sorry.

[chxrryhansen]

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐌𝐁 𝐀𝐔

Pairing; Dark!Club Owner Ari x Shy!Reader

Warnings; dark themes, unbalanced power dynamic, daddy kink, thumb sucking, no smut but the rules still apply, Minors please DNI!!

Summary; Ari visits your home, but how does he know the address?

authors note: this is literally like 1.4k words but i honestly did not want to finish this so i quickly scanned over what i had previously written in my drafts. Unfortunately i have no motivation to write anymore and this will likely be my last piece of work, but due to high demand i tried my best because i owe it to you all❤️ apologies if this does not reach the standards you had hoped for.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

Your head pounded as you rolled over in bed, your greasy hair sticking to the sides of your face, drool crusted around your dry lips, barely any memory of last nights activities. Reaching over to turn on the small clock on your bedside table, the time flashed 1pm. Shit.

Usually on Sundays you and Grandma would go to church, growing up in a Catholic household it was basically mandatory. She would wake you up bright and early before you both took a leisurely walk to the church garden, she had always said connecting with nature was one of the most beautiful gifts life granted us. Panic surged through you, the realisation that she had infact, not, woken you up.

You paused at the sound of voices in the kitchen below, Grandma didn't have many visitors since Pops died, she preferred it that way. For you? not so much. She was always trying to convince you to get out more, find yourself a nice husband, settle down and have kids. Surprisingly, she wasn't against you drinking alchohol, she wanted you to have fun with your friends, while you were still young, and while you still could.

Slowly you sat up in bed, a glass of water and advil rested on table which you hadn't noticed earlier, assuming Grandma had placed them there, you swallowed the pills down gently as you stood, getting changed into a nice sundress, the white and lightpink pattern fitting tight to your figure. Stumbling slightly to the bathroom you brushed your teeth and tied your hair in a ponytail, held together with a pink bow. Giving yourself one last look over, ensuring you looked presentable for your guests, you made your way downstairs.

Your body took a screenshot as you turned the corner, the sight of Ari and a man you hadn’t met before casually floating around in your kitchen caused you to let out a frightened yelp, alerting them of your presence. However, they didn’t seem shocked, almost as if they knew you weren’t in your room anymore…without even looking at you. The men were seated in the small room at the table, both of them turning to face you.

"A-Ari? What are you doing here? H-how do you know where i live? Wh-Where’s my Grandma?" you questioned continuously, your eyes wide in confusion and your body shaking in fear, how could he know where you lived? You must’ve accidentally let it slip last night, which was very unlike you, you didn’t usually share your address with strangers you just met…

The other man turned his waist to look at you, his long brown hair framing his sharp jawline, his physique nearly the same size as Ari's, of course nobody compared to him though. Ari's broad shoulders still towering the mystery mans.

He smirked "My, my, she's trembling already, she almost looks shell shocked."

Ari looked at him with a bored expression "Real funny, Buck." Before he turned to you, pulling out an extra seat at the kitchen table.

"Don’t worry about your Grandma, she’s perfectly safe, Bucky here payed for her to eat at one of his most expensive restaurants, a whole afternoon of nothing but the best services in the city, free of charge. And i thought i told you to call me daddy from now on princess. Take a seat." He smiled, patting Bucky on the shoulders, although it didn't quite meet his eyes, while offering you a seat at your own table…in your own home. His words didn’t bring much comfort yet you let out a sigh of relief knowing your sweet granny was safe and sound, probably having the time of her life.

"Yes d-daddy."

Your eyes flickered to his partners, "Buck's". He said nothing yet his smirk told it all. Before you sat down you tugged at your dress in discomfort, your thighs sticking together due to your tense figure.

"Don't mind him. It'll be as if he's not even here. Now, i got you a gift, baby. Drove all the way across the city to give it to ya' "

"Y-You got me? A gift? Why?" You stammered, hurling more questions at him in anticipation, or nervousness, or both. You couldn't really tell.

"Enough questions, open it." He said in avoidance while sliding a medium size box towards you with his ringed index finger, the wrapping paper a light shade of pink, just to your liking and scuffed around the edges, a clear sign that he had no help.

"You uhm, you really didn't have to do this." You murmered while tearing the paper gently, revealing the newest model of iphone. Your eyes widening in shock at the expense of the gift.

“You like it?” Ari smiled, waiting patiently for your response.

“I-I don’t even know what t-to say. Thank you so much.”

Your eyes began to water at the ‘kindness’ of his gift, nobody had ever bought you something so expensive before, and you never had the money to afford it yourself, your Sunday job at the library not exactly paving your way to wealth.

“You’re very welcome sweetheart. Hey Buck, Why don’t you go wait in the car for a sec.” Ari subtly commands.

“No prob, dog.” Bucky smirks from the doorway on his way out.

You lift your thumb to your mouth and begin biting and sucking. It was a habit of yours, an oral fixation. Sometimes you did it simply out of boredom, others out of nervousness. This was one of those times.

Ari groans under his breath at the sight, his cock straining against his slacks within seconds.

“Here, don’t wanna’ mess up your pretty hands, baby.” he mutters, removing your thumb and replacing it with his own.

Precum leaks from his tip at the sensation of your tongue around his digit, wishing it was his cock your lips were wrapped around instead. You closed your eyes as you suckled on his thumb, it felt much better than when you used your own, you didn’t know why. But you did know that fluttery feeling in your tummy was back. Your juices creating a damp patch in your panties, unbeknownst to you.

The sound of your little whimpers of pleasure caused Ari to let out an almost guttural growl as he watched you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve tension you didn’t even know was there.

"Fuck, baby. You don't wanna' know what that shit does to a man like me."

Your eyebrows creased together in a frown, not understanding what he meant by 'man like me'. But you'd learn... soon enough.

“Why don’t you come sit on my knee, baby.” He half asked, knowing it wasn’t really a question, more of a demand.

You scrambled, climbing into his lap, yet the moment your plush thighs met his own you felt something hard and thick underneath your ass, you squirmed trying to move away from the foreign object poking into you. Ari was quick to grip your hips with his free hand, stilling your movements and letting out a deep growl, sending shivers down your spine.

“Daddy i think your keys are poking me.” you whined with a frown on your face.

“That ain’t my keys, pretty girl.”

“What is it then?” You questioned as the uncomfortable object continued to poke the underneath of your thighs.

“Nothin’ for you to worry about, pumpkin.” Ari drawled, desperately trying to hold back from pulling up your cute little dress and fucking you dumb. Suddenly, the door slams open yet again causing you to jolt, Ari’s grip on your thighs tightens.

“Boss, we got a problem.” Bucky calls, peeking his head inside, a serious look on his face.

“Can it wait?” Ari sighs.

“Unfortunately not…it’s the Fowlers.”

Ari’s cool manor drops immediately, his strong arms lift you out of his lap and onto your own chair, you land with a squeak.

His hand reaches for your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“My number’s already in the phone, you will call me if you need anything. Gotta’ go now princess, i’ll see you soon, yeah?” He muttered, tracing his thumb around your plump lips.

You nod with shaky limbs, the determination on his features sending shocks through your system.

“Good girl.”

And with a kiss on your forehead he was gone.

You let out a breath of air you didn’t even realise you were holding. Oddly, you were sad Ari was gone. A tugging sensation filled your chest, almost as if your body was aching to run after him, to follow him as far as the wind would take you.

But you didn’t.

With a sigh your feet began to shuffle back to bed, knowing your grandma wouldn’t be happy when she got home when she realised you hadn’t done any of your chores. But at that moment you didn’t care.

As you hit the covers and drifted into sleep, you dreamed of him.

You dreamt of the Devil.

[nickfowlerrr]

can you feel it?

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader (soulmate au)

warnings: really nothing but fluff. mentions of light baking burns. lmk if something needs to be tagged.

words: 2.3k

notes: this is my entry for @lunarbuck’s soulmate challenge. i used the prompt: you cannot feel pain until you meet your soulmate.🩵 and thank you to @dreamlandcreations for beta reading/editing my first draft!

Mmm, you hummed mindlessly. 

The sweet, warm aroma of your latest batch of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies swirled through your small bakery, filling your nose and eliciting a smile from you as you walked to the back counter, setting down the hot tray you were holding.

You slid off the oven mit you wore and tossed it carelessly before you spun around to get the last tray of dough in the oven.

Your fingers brushed the hot grate of the oven as you slipped the tray in, and though you couldn’t feel the pain or burn of it, you still mentally chided yourself for not being more careful. 

It was mid-September, that time of year when summer was still the season, but fall was all around. 

You had been messing with some seasonal recipes for the past few days and had most of your impending fall lineup set. You were going to start slow with the roll out, and today was the first day you’d have these cookies out in the display. 

You were a bit overly excited, but you hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that today would be a great day since you’d gotten up. Even Nickie calling to let you know she’d be late for her shift hadn’t dampened your mood. 

You sipped from the straw of your cold brew, floating aimlessly around the quaint space while you were waiting for the cookies to cool, the oven to go off, or a customer to walk in. You’d swept the floor and cleaned the counters and tables a good three times now despite their already pristine state. It was a slow day, but you knew not to expect many people until after noon.

You eventually found yourself staring out the large glass window at the front of the shop, looking out onto the picturesque town street, watching the few passersby and the leaves that were blowing around; the branches of the trees that lined the streets swaying gently in the late summer breeze. 

You weren’t sure why, but as you stood there gazing out the window, you suddenly found yourself growing eager, a sense of excitement coming over you. You felt like you were waiting for something…someone.

Just as the feelings were put into words in your mind, the ringing of the entrance bell sounded and pulled you from your thoughts. You tutted quietly at yourself before you turned and went to greet whoever it was.

You stopped short on your hello when you saw Nickie pulling off her cardigan.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” you said with a teasing smirk and a raised brow.

Nicki smiled guiltily, “Sorry,” she offered through a nervous titter, “Eli’s alarm didn’t go off, so we were both scrambling this morning.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you brushed off her apology, “it’s been pretty quiet so far.”

“It smells amazing in here, did you make the pumpkin cookies?”

“Last batch is in the oven right now,” you nodded with a grin. “There’s some in the display case already, grab one, tell me what you think,” you said, walking over to meet her behind the counter.

You grasped your hands together while you leaned against the side of the register, anxious to get her thoughts.

Nickie grabbed a cookie and just as she was about to take a bite, the bell on the door rang again. You turned, smiling to offer your usual, “Hello, welcome in!”, but your voice caught in your throat when you did, only managing out a half hello.

Your eyes met steel blue as the man who had just entered stalled in his path for a brief second. He blinked then and seemed to correct his posture, clearing his throat, eyes never leaving yours, “Hi,” he offered.

“Welcome in,” you breathed, voice much quieter than you intended it to be.

You couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him as he approached the counter. He was tall, well built with dark hair, and god, those eyes. You could swim in them, they were so blue. He looked effortlessly cool, wearing a dark canvas jacket with the collar popped ever so slightly over a plain charcoal henley, his black jeans and boots completing the outfit as a chain of silver showed a bit from above his shirt collar. The dark color scheme worked well for the weather and for his features. The blue of his eyes even more emphasized by the color of his clothing. His jaw was square and sharp, and the structure of his cheekbones brought attention to the bags under his eyes. But they, along with his five o’clock shadow, only added to his aesthetic. You wondered if he knew that, if he was aware. You’d seen many a man who wore the same style, but it was so clearly put on. This seemed to be very him. Not that you knew him, of course, but still it was evident. 

It occurred to you though, as cool as he seemed, there was the tiniest bit of pink coloring his cheeks as he slyly rubbed his neck, before he finally stood before you, that betrayed his air of cool.

Nickie looked between the two of you with a quirked brow as you began taking the man’s order.

Your fingers twiddled over the screen in your nervousness while he looked over the menu, musing aloud before he moved to walk the display case. 

“What’s your favorite?” he asked, a wave of self assurance growing over him as he casually shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to watch you as you forced your own hands to still before standing up a bit straighter at the question. It was innocent enough, despite the smoothness of his words and the smile that played on the corner of his lips as he recognized your fidgeting for what it is - your own nerves bounding around you. 

“Oh, um,” you took a breath, thinking for a second, “I’m pretty partial to the classics, actually,” you said with a small smile, moving down a bit to be closer to where he stood, a bit of your own self assurance coming over you in turn. “The pink sugar cookie and the chocolate chip are probably the biggest sellers, too. But, in my humble opinion, you really can’t go wrong with whatever you choose.”

He smiled at you as you let your own gaze drift down to the case of treats before you.

“If you want to try anything, we do samples, so-” you were about to start rambling when the oven went off, both of you looking over at the sound.

“I’ll get it,” Nickie called from the small kitchen, just past the back counter, where she had gone to eat her cookie.

You turned back to the man and were met with his eyes already on you, both of your brows raising in quiet surprise. He was closer to you now than he was a moment again, and you tittered. You couldn’t fight the small smile that cracked on your face, and he returned a soft one of his own.

“Did you wanna-” you were cut off by Nickie as she looked around, growing a little frantic.

“Do you know where the oven mit is?”

“Oh, I had it..” you tried to think where it could have landed when you’d tossed it earlier, making a face as you came up empty, moving to search the area with her. “Ahhh. I don’t.. Damn,” you breathed.

You took another quick glance around before you moved to the oven. You really didn’t want them to burn.

“I’ll just grab it really fast,” you told Nickie as you pulled the oven door open.

She cringed at the thought, “I know you can’t feel it, but still, you shouldn’t do that,” she warned.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured her, “I’ll put them down super quick, can you just clear the counter and then we’ll move them to the rack in a minute.”

You could feel the man’s eyes on you still, and as you reached to grab the tray, you turned to speak to him, “Sorry. If you want to try anything, just let me know.”

As you were turning and talking, you blindly grabbed the tray. 

It took a second for it to hit you but then all at once you felt the burn. 

You quickly let go, pulling your hand back with a harsh gasp before you could get the cookies out. You grasped onto your wrist out of instinct as the pain burned through you.

“Fuck,” you cursed as you gripped your hand. 

“Are you okay?” both the man and Nickie asked in unison, watching you with concern. 

You flicked your eyes up to the man before looking over at Nickie. 

“It.. it hurts,” you said, confused by the fact that you felt it at all, and yet knowing full well what that had to mean.

“Oh,” she breathed in response, her gaze flicking over to the man still standing at the counter, but getting closer, all the while keeping his eyes on you. She blinked, eyes rounding slightly as she looked at you once more, “I’ll get a towel or something.”

She rushed away while you groaned softly. Both at the stinging burn and the fact that your cookies were definitely getting too baked.

“Just grab whatever will work,” you called to her, “they’re gonna burn if we leave them any longer.”

“I can grab them for you,” the man offered as he approached you, coming around the counter to where you were. “I uh, I haven’t met my soulmate, so…” he seemed a little embarrassed by the confession as you stared at him dumbly. 

Your mind was racing with all the things you wanted to say to him, but your tongue was refusing to move as you stood there holding your hand.

He stepped closer, and it seemed he was waiting for your permission as he nodded to the oven. You looked at him and then to the tray of cookies waiting to be taken out. You took a step back and gave him room to get to the tray. A part of you wanted to warn him that you’d thought the same thing when you’d grabbed it, only to be proven wrong, but another wanted to confirm that... that it was him.

You watched intently as he reached into the oven. It felt like he was moving in slow motion while you waited for his hand to make contact with the metal tray.

He grasped it and his forehead creased, brows furrowing as he quickly moved from the oven to drop it onto the back counter. You were holding your breath and almost deflated until you realized he was cursing under his when he was holding the tray.

“Shit,” he cursed once more, shaking out his hand, his brows still drawn together. You were staring at him with rounded eyes as you continued clutching your own burn.

You offered him your name and you stepped closer, your voice making him lift his gaze from examining the burn on his hand, up to you.

His brilliant eyes seemed to twinkle in understanding as he met your own. He breathed a smile, mirroring your movements and taking a step to you in turn.

“James. You can call me Bucky,” he simpered.

“Bucky,” you nodded as your lips curled into a soft smile of your own. “Thank you, for saving the cookies,” you offered.

“You’re welcome. Should maybe invest in some more oven mitts, though,” he joked with a mirthful smirk playing on his lips.

“I should,” you agreed with a nod and a light laugh. “Sorry about your hand.. I uhm, I have a first aid kit in the back,” you gestured with your head, “burn cream included.”

“That’d be good,” he said, “and you have nothing to be sorry about, I offered,” he continued, trailing you to the back. Nickie passed you sheepishly, though she gave you a small, knowing smile as she went to watch the front.

You swallowed hard and cleared your throat of your nerves as you worked to collect yourself, gathering your bearings with this turn of events.

“So... Bucky, huh?” you said as you grabbed the stuff you needed from the kit and watched him lean against the empty counter. You walked back over to him as he waited for you.

“Yeah. It’s uh,” he stifled a small hiss as you smeared some ointment onto his burn, gently holding his hand as you did. There was something about the soft touch that you couldn’t quite explain. The way it makes you feel, something you’ve never felt before. It wasn’t like the pain, it was more like a comfort, but still it was new. “It’s usually reserved for friends...family, but I think soulmate fits in there, too,” he smiled charmingly at you before taking the tube of cream from your hand. “Unless you like James more,” he offered, “honestly, I’d probably answer to whatever you wanted to call me,” he flirted easily.

You held your breath at the touch, and let out a soft titter at his words, a spark stemming from his hold as you let him put some ointment on your small burn. 

“I think I’ll go with Bucky for now,” you smiled, meeting his brilliant blue gaze.

“So I- I’m not too sure how this goes…” he started, a self-deprecating smile sitting crooked on his lips while he let go of your hand, somewhat reluctantly, once he was done with the cream, setting the tube on the counter before looking back at you, “but I was thinking we could start with dinner.”

There was a twinkle in his eye again, hope shining through, and you were sure your gaze held much the same as you waited for him to ask. “Are you free tonight?”

[crystallinestars]

Unrequited Love

When he develops feelings for you, but your heart belongs to another with no hope of ever loving him back.

I'm not 100% happy with this, but it has been sitting in my drafts for a long time, so I want to finally post it. Forgive me if these are all repetitive.

WARNING: This is pure angst. No happy endings here.

Characters: Kaeya, Xiao, Alhaitham, Thoma, Zhongli, and Kaveh

🦚 Kaeya:

Kaeya has liked you ever since you were both children. Back when he and Diluc pretended to be knights of Favonius that heroically saved you and Jean from Treasure Hoarders, Kaeya had always wanted to play your knight in shining armor. When you got injured while playing and started crying, Kaeya was always the first one to comfort you and help patch up your scrapes and bruises. His little crush on you prompted him to look out for you and protect you from harm to the best of his ability.

As the years passed, that crush developed into full-fledged love. After Kaeya’s falling out with Diluc, you were the only person remaining whom he considered a close friend and confidant. Despite how much he tried to distance himself from you, you wouldn’t have any of it, and persistently wormed your way into his life. You worked hard to keep your friendship alive by giving Kaeya the companionship he craved, and served as a shoulder for him to lean on during his lowest moments. When faced with your sincerity, acceptance, and kindness, how could Kaeya not fall even deeper in love with you?

He lived life by distancing himself from others. He didn’t want to be abandoned and hurt again the same way when his father left him all alone in Mondstadt as a child all those years ago. Kaeya didn’t want to grow attached to people and then suffer when those bonds inevitably broke, just like they did when Diluc shunned him once he revealed the truth about his origins. Kaeya knew better than that, yet your presence made him harbor hope that perhaps you were different.

You’ve known each other since childhood, so Kaeya naturally trusted you more than most. You had a deep bond of understanding and acceptance that made Kaeya hope that maybe he could find unconditional love with you. To have you by his side, being his sole light in this dark world, is all he ever wanted. To have just one person he can let down his walls around and bare his broken self to. These rosy fantasies floated in his mind whenever you were together, warming and soothing his scarred heart.

He should have known better, but he paid the price for his foolish hopes.

When you told Kaeya that you and Diluc got together, it felt as if a bucket of cold water was dumped on him. The sweet, golden fantasies were shattered, replaced with the harsh reality that you didn’t feel the same way about him.

Truly, he should have expected this outcome.

As children, Kaeya had wanted to be your knight in their games of pretend, but it was always Diluc who beat him to the punch. His brother was always the one to save you from the imaginary bad guys and be your hero, while Kaeya faded into the background and was forced to watch as you kissed Diluc’s cheek in thanks.

Kaeya was the first to comfort you when you got injured, but it was always Diluc who ultimately cheered you up and restored your smile. When his relationship with his brother became strained, most of your attention was focused on Diluc who was mourning the loss of his father, not on Kaeya who had also lost Krepus.

To you, Kaeya always came second, and this time was no exception.

Though the news shattered his heart, Kaeya expertly masked his pain with a smile. If you wanted to be just friends, then so be it. He would accept anything you gave him because he craved any scrap of your affection that badly. Your presence comforted him in a way nothing else did, not even his favorite Death After Noon which he resorted to when he wanted to numb the sorrow and forget the painful memories, if only for a few hours. He didn’t want to lose the care and gentleness you showed him, even if it meant suffering through the heartache of knowing that your acts of kindness towards him weren’t out of romantic love. Kaeya could tolerate it, he was sure. He would move on and learn to be happy for you and his brother.

Even if his conversations with Diluc became more awkward because as much as he tried to hide his heartbreak, Diluc knew Kaeya was suffering deep down, he would still smile and try to be happy.

Even if he felt bile rise in his throat when he watched you and Diluc share a kiss and profess your love, Kaeya would smile because you must never learn of his secret romantic feelings for you. His unwanted feelings.

Even if he silently cried alone at home after attending your wedding, grasping at his chest where his aching heart was and downing glass after glass of liquor, Kaeya will plaster on that same smile.

Even if his unrequited love for you never waned no matter how many years passed, Kaeya will continue to wear a smile and act happy for you despite his heart still longing for your love.

Maybe he can’t ever be genuinely happy for you and his brother, but he can at least pretend to be.

👹 Xiao:

Xiao knew that befriending a human like you would only lead to disaster. No matter how many times he warned you to stay away from him because his karma would hurt you, you didn’t listen and continued to visit the lonely adeptus.

Xiao should have put an end to your visits by disappearing and relocating somewhere you wouldn’t be able to find him, but he didn’t. Something in him wanted to stay with you despite his better judgment. The way you brought him new trinkets and foods to try was endearing, albeit a waste of your time since Xiao seldom liked anything you brought.

He wasn’t sure why you were so adamant about befriending him, and when asked, you simply said that he seemed lonely and in need of a friend. Xiao found your reasoning naïve and even foolish since you were putting yourself in danger over an altruistic impulse, but no matter how much he pushed you away, you didn’t give up on him. You were persistent in your attempts to befriend the lonely adeptus, easily seeing through him. He only pushed you away because he was scared, not because he hated you.

Xiao wasn’t sure when exactly it happened, but one day he caught himself looking forward to your visits. He anticipated your arrival, patiently waiting for the moment he when would hear the familiar sound of your footsteps that made his heart race. His breath hitched and cheeks flushed when you smiled at him or playfully teased him. Anything you did sent his heart aflutter. Xiao was utterly smitten with you, yet he didn’t know what to do about these feelings. For now, he was content to simply let them be and enjoy these peaceful and happy days with you. He would explore these warm and airy feelings at his own pace and see where they lead.

However, these delicate emotions quickly turned as heavy as a boulder when you announced that you found a lover.

Xiao was surprised by the news since he didn’t think you had someone else you were as close to as him, if not more so. In hindsight, he should have expected it. You were a warm and friendly person, so it was only natural that you had other people you were close to in your life. This was how things should be. An adeptus like him did not belong by your side.

Though he was aware that it was for the best for you to find love and settle down with a fellow human, something inside Xiao’s chest ached at the thought. He was disappointed that he was not as special to you as he perceived, but he tried his best to ignore the pain and disappointment by burying them deep inside his heart. He tried to maintain the same demeanor he always did around you, but even you could tell that he seemed bothered by something. The way he became more reserved and aloof around you tipped you off that something weighed on his mind.

When you pressed him about it, he reluctantly confessed that he thought you would stop seeing him as much due to your new love. Despite your reassurances that you still wanted him around, as time progressed, you visited Xiao less and less often. You still brought him gifts and foods to try, but this time supplemented by comments about how your boyfriend Gaming gave them to you to try and give to your friends. Most of your conversations were no longer about your life anymore, instead now revolving around Gaming.

Your less frequent visits worried Xiao, so he sometimes stopped by Liyue Harbor to check in on you to see if you were alright. That was how Xiao found himself observing the progression of your relationship with Gaming.

As he watched you stroll around the harbor with the cheerful boy, Xiao found himself yearning to be the one you looped your arms around.

To be the one to make you smile and laugh.

To be the one to hold your hand and kiss you sweetly on the lips.

He wanted to be in Gaming’s shoes and discover what it’s like to be loved by you. However, each and every time, he shoved those thoughts and desires into the farthest recess of his mind, locking them away. He will not interfere, it is not his place. It’s better for everyone if you don’t love him. You would only get hurt being around him if you do. As a human, you would inevitably get hurt by his karma, and Xiao would never forgive himself if that happened.

If one day you drifted apart because you no longer had time for him, Xiao would accept it. It will hurt, but he will accept it.

It’s better this way, he tells himself. It’s better for you to love a fellow human, especially one that treats you right and makes you happy the way Gaming does. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t the one to give you happiness—all that ultimately mattered was that you were happy, even if not with him. Not that he truly believed he could make you happy…

He’s too dangerous to be worthy of your love, so it’s better this way…

It’s better this way.

🎧 Alhaitham:

When Alhaitham invited you over to his house, he never imagined that he was setting himself up for utter heartache. The number of times he invited a person over can be counted on one hand, yet you were one of the chosen few who piqued his interest enough to invite you to his private space. You were not a genius like him, but that did not matter. You understood his worldview and didn’t criticize him for his introverted personality, which he appreciated. Plus, you weren’t afraid to stand up to him if you thought he was being too cold or antisocial, and actively challenged him to step out of his comfort zone every now and then.

Having invited you to his house, you inevitably met his mess of a roommate. When you and Kaveh instantly hit it off, Alhaitham thought nothing of it at the time. The two of you got along, and Kaveh nagged at him less which was good enough for him.

However, with Kaveh being introduced into your life, your unusual friendship with Alhaitham started to change. Whenever you expressed a desire to come over or hang out with Alhaitham, you would always ask if Kaveh could join. Every time you met up with Alhaitham to share literature or get a cup of coffee, your topic of conversation would deviate to Kaveh.

The Scribe was no fool, and he could instantly tell that you developed feelings for his roommate. Something weighed heavy in his chest at that realization, but he chose not to ponder on that feeling too much, and simply brushed it aside. Alhaitham believed in letting people have free will over the development of their lives, so he didn’t stop you from seeking out the company of the architect, even when it resulted in you canceling plans with him.

Kaveh expressed similar behavior to you, constantly asking and talking about you like a schoolboy with a crush. It didn’t take much for the Scribe to figure out that the architect returned your romantic feelings. At the back of his mind, Alhaitham knew what this could result in, but even if something in him disliked the idea, he let things play their natural course. He figured you would know better than to go for Kaveh, a person plagued with deep-rooted issues that not just anyone could deal with.

It was only when he came home one day to find you cuddling up to and kissing Kaveh did that heavy feeling return with a vengeance. The sight of your happy smiles, the sound of your laughter, and the knowledge that Kaveh made you happier than you could ever be with him, weighed heavy on his chest like a boulder. It was difficult to breathe.

However, Alhaitham remained the picture of indifference and carried on to his room. You and Kaveh only spared him with a brief greeting before returning to your little romantic bubble, none the wiser about how the Scribe felt. Alhaitham himself didn’t know what he was feeling, and it wasn’t until much later when he was struggling to focus on reading his book did it finally hit him that he was heartbroken. His chest felt heavy with sadness and disappointment because he loved you, yet you did not want his love.

The realization came far too late, and Alhaitham was left with no choice but to accept that you would not be his. Maybe if he realized his feelings sooner the outcome would have been different? Maybe if he never invited you over, you wouldn’t have fallen for Kaveh? These questions, among various others, plagued him like a bad aftertaste in his mouth.

It was too late to change anything. You made your choice, and Alhaitham will respect it.

He hid his heartache behind an aloof demeanor and curt responses, going about his days as usual. It would be best if both you and Kaveh never found out about his unrequited love to avoid unnecessary drama and complications. Even if some days it was difficult to push down the heavy feelings pressing on his chest, Alhaitham hid them well.

The only times his carefully crafted facade cracks is when you hang out with just him, lost in your own thoughts or distracted by an activity, unaware that Alhaitham is looking at you. If anyone took the time to study his gaze, they would see that despite his stoic expression, Alhaithm’s eyes reflected pure yearning and sadness. As soon as you looked at him, though, he would quickly look away to avoid you finding out the truth.

He will respect your decision, even if it hurts him.

He will hide his pain to protect your happiness and friendship.

🍡 Thoma:

Ever since he first met you, Thoma knew you were off-limits. You were Ayato’s fiancée, after all. As attractive as he found you, he couldn’t get too close to you since you were already taken. He should have been content with simply befriending and serving you the way he served Ayaka and Ayato.

At first, he was.

Ever since being introduced to him, you were placed in Thoma’s care to have the loyal retainer familiarize you with the Kamisato estate and the workings of the Clan when Ayato was too busy to do so. Thoma could tell you were out of your element being engaged to someone of high political and social standing like his Lord, so he did his best to ease your nerves and help you acclimate to your new home. He surmised that being isolated in such a large manor with none of your usual friends and family around must have been lonely, so he chose to become your first friend at the estate.

Thoma regularly snuck you out to play with stray cats and dogs, and watched your face light up in a joyous smile when the animals sought out your affection. Thoma also taught you the ropes about acting like a noble. Due to your nerves, you sometimes made mistakes, but Thoma always helped you feel better by laughing off your blunders. When you expressed a desire to see your family and friends, Thoma accompanied you to the city and served as your protector. He knew what it felt like to be stranded away from family since he was separated from his mother in Mondstadt long ago, and he didn’t want you to miss your family the way he did.

Somewhere along the way, Thoma caught feelings.

He didn’t realize it immediately. It just hit him one day when he watched you and Ayato share an intimate moment on the veranda. He felt jealous and protective of you as he watched Ayato tenderly stroke your cheek and lean in for a kiss.

Thoma didn’t hate Ayato for being the one to capture your heart. He owed a lot to both the Kamisato siblings for accepting an immigrant like him and giving him a place to belong when nobody else in Inazuma did. He is eternally grateful to them for that. For this reason, his jealousy was quickly replaced with shame and guilt because he shouldn’t have feelings for you. You were Ayato’s fiancée, he knew that. You already have someone else in your heart, someone whom Thoma serves out of a sense of respect and loyalty. He would never have it in him to ruin the idyllic happiness shared between you and his Lord.

With no other option, Thoma chooses to keep his feelings for you hidden. He plays the role of your best friend perfectly, being mindful of not touching you unnecessarily or for longer than is appropriate, no matter how much he wants to. He maintains a respectful distance between you, both physically and figuratively.

Though he brushes aside your occasional puzzled glance at his sudden change in behavior, Ayato knows. Thoma can fool you, but he can’t fool Ayato. His Lord knows what’s really brewing behind the surface of the blond’s cheerful smile.

But Thoma steps back and shows Ayato that he has no intentions of getting in the way of his relationship with you. You do not love him the way you love Ayato, and that is the reality of the situation. If you want Thoma to be your friend, then he will happily remain as one, no matter how much his heart bleeds to not mean something more to you.

Thoma will smile for you, so you won’t know that something is wrong. Because nothing is wrong, he thinks. His feelings are not necessary, and he will do his best to move on to not impede the happiness of his Lord and yourself.

The only time he slipped up was when he tucked away a stray strand of your hair on your wedding day. His fingers brushed against the soft skin of your cheek for a bit longer than appropriate, but quickly pulled away to not rouse your suspicion any further. Wishing you luck, Thoma saw you off with that same warm smile plastered on his face as you prepared to meet up with Ayato to begin the wedding ceremony.

He will smile for you. Even if his heart feels like it’s being torn apart, and there’s a thick lump in his throat that makes it hard for him to speak, the least Thoma could do is smile. He will support you on your road to happiness, even if it’s not with him.

🔶 Zhongli:

Zhongli had met many people during his very long life, but few left as deep of an impression on him as you did. You were an ordinary human, a friend of Hu Tao’s he occasionally saw when you stopped by to chat with the funeral director. At first glance, there wasn’t anything particularly outstanding about you, but Zhongli found himself drawn to your energy.

When Hu Tao introduced you to him, he took an immediate liking to you and your boundless curiosity for the knowledge and stories he had to share. It was no secret that Zhongli was wise and well-informed about many things, and you saw him as a source of trivia and riveting tales about events long past.

Your undivided attention and bright eyes endeared you to Zhongli, and the god grew fond of you. He invited you to more outings where he shared interesting stories and answered any questions you had about anything at all. He had fun in your presence and was delighted to be called your dear friend.

Zhongli was well aware that there were deeper feelings brewing in his heart for you, but he was in no rush to explore or act upon them. He was content to take his time and allow your relationship with him to develop at a natural pace. Perhaps one day the two of you would grow even closer, and he would divulge his greatest secret to you about his hidden identity. For now, he would accompany you around Liyue as your friend, and share his boundless knowledge with you.

When you suddenly started zoning out during one of his long-winded speeches, he wondered if something was weighing on your mind. At first, you sheepishly brushed his concern away, saying it was nothing. When you began canceling your dates with Zhongli and scheduling fewer of them than usual, his concern deepened. When he asked for the reason behind these changes, your answer left him conflicted.

It was a charming young man from Snezhnaya, you divulged to Zhongli. A young man going by the name Tartaglia, with eyes the deepest blue you’ve ever seen, sporting a striking red scarf and mask that made him easy to spot in a crowd. Zhongli instantly knew you were talking about Childe, the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger.

He warned you about the dangers of associating yourself with a man like Tartaglia, but that didn’t stop you from meeting the Harbinger on a regular basis. You were enamored with that Snezhnayan rascal, and Zhongli could do nothing but watch as you abandoned his company in favor of Childe’s. You still considered Zhongli as a friend and tried to make time for him, but spurred by your romantic feelings, you chose to prioritize Tartaglia over the former archon.

Watching you run off to be with another man left a bitter feeling in the back of Zhongli’s throat, akin to the bitterness of green tea. But perhaps, things were better off this way. You were a human, whereas Zhongli was a god. He was an ancient being that had lived thousands of years and would continue to live for hundreds if not thousands more, long after your death. He does not age the way you do, not to mention that him being not human might put you off.

Yes, it was better for you to be with someone of your own kind, even if Zhongli disapproved of the man you had chosen. However, seeing how happy you were with Tartaglia, perhaps he was wrong about the impulsive Harbinger. Childe spoiled you with gifts and meals, took you out to see new sights that Zhongli could not, and gave you a vast array of new experiences that the ancient god couldn’t hope to give you. Not to mention, Childe was a fierce and reliable protector, so despite his dangerous occupation, you were in safe hands.

You smiled more with Tartaglia than you ever did with Zhongli, and he knew that he had lost. There were very few battles Zhongli had faced defeat in throughout his long life of fighting wars, but battles of the heart were not his forte. In the battlefield of love, he was the obvious loser. At least, he could accept that fact.

Or so he thought.

The day you announced you were leaving Liyue to go live with Tartaglia in Snezhnaya, made Zhongli’s blood run cold.

Zhongli had lost many people he held dear to him, so he was used to the pain and heartache that came with loss. It still inevitably hurt, but he knew how to cope with that loss better. Losing you was a different sort of heartache, though. Knowing there was a possibility he could see you, yet being denied that privilege because your love for another man was far stronger than your attachment to anything in Liyue was a bitter pill to swallow.

Just like all the other friends and comrades he had to part with, you were also leaving his life, yet your departure was voluntary. You simply did not need him anymore. Not the way he needed you, at least. You made your decision, and Zhongli will respect it, even if something in him is screaming to convince you to stay, to not leave him for good.

He sees you off with a carefully crafted smile and all the best wishes for your future in another land. As a parting gift, he gives you a beautifully ornate hairpin. A token of your friendship, he called it, though in reality, it was his unspoken love confession. Even if you never pick up on the hidden meaning, that was alright. As long as you kept his gift, a piece of his heart would always be with you.

🍷 Kaveh:

To Kaveh, you were a warm ray of light. Whenever he felt down due to bad customers or haunting memories about his father’s untimely death, you would always be there to get him out of his depressive state and prevent him from overindulging in alcohol. You knew how to get through to him when Alhaitham couldn’t, simply by speaking with empathy and gentleness towards him, which is something Kaveh greatly appreciated. Having been faced with tragedy after tragedy, and Alhaitham’s constant harsh criticisms, your gentleness was like a soothing balm to his wounded heart.

Against his wishes, Kaveh fell in love with you. How could he not when you were so understanding and kind? He knew your relationship with him was strictly platonic, but a part of him hoped that maybe you loved him too. That maybe the two of you could be more than friends.

Being a romantic, Kaveh had daydreamed about you a lot, doodling pictures of you in his sketchbook while spinning fantasies about being in a romantic relationship with you. He pictured all the various dates he would take you on, how he would lean in to kiss you for the first time, how he would profess his undying love and hear you say those same three words back to him.

“I love you.”

The day he got to hear you say those words did come, but unlike in his fantasies, your words were not directed at Kaveh. No, instead, you said them to Alhaitham.

It felt like something out of a bad dream the way Kaveh had accidentally stumbled upon your intimate moment with Alhaitham while stepping out of his room to get a drink. He stood behind the corner, getting a glimpse of you straddling Alhaitham’s lap on the living room couch, yet going unnoticed by either of you.

Hearing your earnest confession of love directed at Alhaitham of all people, made his heart sink to the pit of his stomach. Bile rose to his throat when Alhaitham awkwardly reciprocated your feelings and cupped your face in a tender gesture that Kaveh didn’t know the Scribe was even capable of. Once you started to lean closer to Alhaitham’s face, Kaveh quickly made it back to his room, slamming the door shut in his haste to get away from that sight. The loud sound alerted the both of you to his presence, but Kaveh was too heartbroken to care.

What followed were weeks of agonizing turmoil. Kaveh knew he should be happy for Alhaitham. The antisocial Scribe deserved to be happy with someone he loved, but a part of him felt resentful that you chose Alhaitham over him. His fights with Alhaitham became more frequent. Kaveh nitpicked everything Alhaitham did out of jealousy, sparking conflicts that were not as easily waved away and forgotten as before. That resentment turned into guilt as Kaveh felt like a horrible person and friend for being jealous. He didn’t want to argue with Alhaitham, but he couldn’t help himself when his emotions were such a mess. He couldn’t control the impulses.

Alhaitham wasn’t stupid and quickly figured out that Kaveh was lashing out at him because of his broken heart. He had known about Kaveh’s feelings for you. The architect didn’t even try to hide his infatuation towards you, and talked about you at length to him. But you had made your choice: you gave your heart to Alhaitham, not Kaveh, and Kaveh needed to respect that. Alhaitham didn’t mince his words when he told Kaveh he needed to let go of his feelings for you because you weren’t romantically interested in him, but instead of helping, it only hurt Kaveh worse.

Of course you chose Alhaitham and not him. Compared to Alhaitham, he had no money to speak of, no house, and a mountain of debt. Moreover, he tended to overindulge in alcohol and get moody easily, plus you often told him that he hurt you with his self-destructive behaviors… It was only reasonable that Alhaitham would be a better choice in your eyes. After all, he will never be good enough for you. Not a failure like him.

You would always be an unattainable light he will admire from afar but never touch because someone like him is unworthy of you. He’s unworthy of your love—your kindness, even—and you deserve someone much, much better who can truly make you happy.

Kaveh knew all that, yet it didn’t stop his heart from shattering to pieces every time he saw you with his roommate. It felt like his heart was pierced with multiple shards of glass every time he saw you give affection to Alhaitham, those same hugs and kisses he daydreamed about having with you, but he didn’t let it show. Kaveh would pull on a strained smile and pretend that everything was okay, pretend that he was genuinely happy for you. He truly wanted to be. Dear god did he try to be, but he could not. It hurt too much to see you with another.

When the pain became too much, Kaveh started to visit Lambad’s Tavern on a frequent basis. He wasn’t proud of himself for reverting back to his bad habit of getting blackout drunk to drown out his pain and sorrow, but it was the only thing that helped him cope with the heartache.

Kaveh would drink heavily almost on a daily basis. Lambad became witness to the many times Kaveh broke down crying, and many other times when he would laugh in a self-deprecating manner and smile wryly while muttering something under his breath.

The architect had to be regularly escorted home by his friends, preferably someone other than Alhaitham because Kaveh became quite volatile when the Scribe came to take his drunk friend home. So one time, you came to take him home. Kaveh's recent avoidance of you had become worrisome, and Alhaitham wouldn’t tell you why.

While carrying the plastered blond back to your boyfriend’s house, in his drunken haze, Kaveh had confessed to you. He babbled about how much he loved you, that he was sorry he wasn’t worthy of you, and how much he wished to be loved by you the same way.

He’s sorry he can’t be a good friend to you because of his feelings.

He’s sorry he’s such a mess.

He’s sorry. So very sorry.

[littledollll]

Ok but manipulative obsessive ballet teacher larissa keeping her star student after hours so they can focus on her technique in more ways than one

AND YOU JUST KNOW SHE’LL HAVE HER HANDS ON HER STUDENT AT ALL TIMES

It’s to help your form she says, definitely not just to see how flustered you can get

Private lessons

Ballet teacher!Larissa x ballerina!reader

A/n: is this becoming a thing? I think it’s becoming a thing. I’m kinda obsessed, could be a little AU for us?👀 also I’d like to note that while I’m not gonna specify age in hopes of inclusivity, reader is around their mid 20’s.

HAH I wrote that back when I thought I was gonna have the ideas and motivation keep writing. Anyways, this is my last draft. Hope you enjoy!!

Warning: unhealthy teacher/student relationship, touching, sexual undertones, little bit of mean Larissa

_______________________________

“I will say this once and only once. At this level none of you should not need me walking you through every little step like the girls from baby ballet!” Larissa spoke loud enough to fill the room, before signaling the pianist to begin playing.

Everyone ran to form a line across the back of the room, you ending up fifth in line for the exercise. Perfect spot. Only four in front to watch, and be done quickly.

“However you’d like to start, give me four pique turns to the center, four changing fouettés, pas de bourree and close with a triple.”

One by one each student went. Some being sent back to start from the beginning if they messed up, some going without comment, very rarely did she praise anyone.

Your turn came, you started in a simple fifth position, spotting towards the diagonal which just so happened to be exactly where Larissa was standing. You had no trouble keeping your eyes on her.

“Thank you!” She said in a very clearly annoyed tone. “Finally someone who knows how to spot correctly. The rest of you should learn a little from this starting position. Go on, my dear. I apologize for interrupting your start.” You gave a short nod and began your sequence. Everything was going perfectly until the final part, where you failed to complete the third turn, but saved it by landing on fifth.

You quickly got up and were about to scurry back to the beginning but Larissa spoke up. “No need. You were perfect till the very end and at least saved it. Back of the line.”

You smiled, Larissa smiled back, giving you- a wink? Oh you must have been seeing things. She wouldn’t. What an odd thing it would be for her to do. Regardless, you nodded, looking down as you walked past her only for her to stop you in your tracks and tilt your chin up with her pointer finger. “A ballerina walks proudly. She floats with a straight back and gentle steps. Chin up, my dear.”

Surely she could see the dark red blush covering your cheeks, she nodded you off to continue walking, a smile still on her lips.

When she turned to continue the class, her smile fell, and the strict teacher was back.

When everyone was done with diagonal, she called back to center. “That will be all for today. Applaud yourself for the effort and I will see you all tomorrow.” She locked eyes with you as she spoke, before turning to talk to the pianist while everyone packed up and left.

“You. Stay back, my dear.” A few girls looked back, but she was very clearly talking to you. Her direct tone made it seem like you were in trouble, making your heart race.

“O-okay. Should I keep my pointes on?” You spoke as you stopped in the middle of untying the ribbon. “Yes, please do.”

“Is something wrong, ma’am?” You asked softly as you noticed her staring, watching you. She shook her head with a smile. “Nothing at all, darling. You’re a great student, I’d just like to give you a few pointers.”

By the time you finished tying your ribbons back on securely, and stood, walking over to her, everyone else was already gone, even the pianist. And Larissa had closed the door with the last one out.

“I’ll start with how you failed that triple turn. It shouldn’t be much of a difficult thing for someone of your level…” she mutters.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” You said, lowering your head.

Larissa stepped in front of you, so close you could practically feel her breathing as she once again tilted your chin up. “What did I say about ballerinas, sweetheart.”

You blushed at the closeness, this woman was beyond beautiful, and talented. Having her this up close felt like an honor. You felt so small next to her. “They walk proudly.” You answered.

“Good girl. So you do listen.” She stepped back and you immediately missed her presence so close to yours. “Fortunately for you, I do know what happened.”

She rounded you. “Get into fourth, give me a clean double.” You did as told, a clean double pirouette, finishing back in fourth position.

“Good. Now give me a triple, this time focus on what you’re feeling.” Again, you did as told and just like last time fell on the last turn.

“Do you see the problem?” “Yes- I think so.” She nods. “Tell me.”

“My heel is on the floor by the time I’m in the third turn.” She looked at you proudly for a moment. “Very good. You’re dropping your heel. When you do a double it’s no issue because you’re still high on pointe. But you’re turning in demi at the third. No dancer of mine turns in demi at this level. That’s for the little girls. Tell me miss, are you a little girl?”

“I- well- no of course not.” She hummed, bringing a chair in front of the mirror, centered in the room. She pointed at you to move to the center as well as she sat down, crossing her gorgeously long legs.

Any dancer would die for those. You’re sure she was the envy of the whole school back when she was just a student. “You’re acting like it. You turn like it.” Her voice brought you back in the moment.

“Anyone can do a simple turn. I’m sure the damn pianist could come do one for us. Anyone can do a double too. Any one of the juniors at this establishment could. You’re failing, at this age and this level. I mean you can do it, but you don’t do it well.”

“I can. I promise you I can. I’ve done it before!” You rushed to prove yourself to her. She was the last person on earth you wanted to disappoint.

“Well of course you have. You wouldn’t be in this level if you couldn’t pull off a simple triple turn. So what is it? Are you finding the easy way? Is this you being lazy, in my class, miss?”

You wanted to cry at just the idea of disappointing her.. and this was how she saw you? Some lazy brat in an advanced class while she was God herself to you? That wouldn’t do.

“I’ll help you, my girl. You dance beautifully, you move and project emotions the way no other can. But you’re falling at the basics. All the talent and emotion in the world won’t save you if you can’t pull off a good turn. Try to think of any important role to dance which doesn’t turn.”

“There’s not many..” you said quietly. You wanted to bring your head down again, truly, you felt shameful. You could do it, both of you knew that. But you weren’t, why is that? Larissa wondered.

“Not any, my dear.” She sighed, walking behind you. “I want you to try for four turns with me here. I will spin and support you. Just keep that heel up.” You nodded, getting into fourth, and doing a plié before starting your turns.

Larissa’s hands moved quickly around your waist, guiding you through every turn and stopping at the four count. “You’re very capable. You can spot well, you could turn ten times with me here, I bet. But I trust you know that there won’t always be a pas de deux in every show or every dance. There won’t always be somebody to help you turn.”

“Yes I know, ma’am.” She smiled. “Of course you do. You’re a smart girl, my dear.”

“You trust that I won’t let you fall, yet you’re not trusting yourself.” She said, squeezing your hips lightly as she kept her hands in place. “You have the strength to stay up, no doubt. Trusting yourself is just as important.”

“Let’s try to balance on pasé for a few, hm? Get your body comfortable with staying up for a longer time.” She stepped back.

Her eyes were racking over your body. You could feel it, it only made your blush grow deeper. “Slowly. Take your foot from the ground up to your ankle first.” You moved as she spoke, she seemed to approve of that.

“Up your calf… and above your knee. Do not rest it, now hold.” You were perfectly still once she told you to hold position, settling all the shaking in an instant.

“Your breathing cannot interrupt you. I want it to look like you’re not even breathing. Keep that rib cage closed tightly and focus. Imagine there is a string going straight through the center of your body, pulling you up toward the ceiling.”

You breathed slowly, barely. Not even thinking about uttering a word at this moment. “Turning is much easier than balancing. You have more momentum to stay up, and as long as you don’t move and exaggerated amount you can get away with not being perfectly in center with your body. Though you should be.”

You felt the warmth of her hands again. You could see her blurry in the mirror, trying to keep your face straight. You stared right into your own eyes.

Her hands were under your breasts for a moment, pressing down on your rib cage gently. “Tightly closed. Very good, my darling.. very good.” She whispered.

Larissa’s hands caressed your thighs before reaching your knee, spreading your leg a little more open. “I should be able to see you in one line if I were to look at you from the side. Keep your knee aligned with your shoulder.” She spoke softly, having no need for loud words as she was practically pressed up against you.

Your balance shook as she adjusted you, but she didn’t let you fall. Instead helping you find your balance once more before moving on. “You’re focusing too much on me. I’m not even here. Now rest.”

You sighed in relief as she gave that command, letting your pointe trail down your leg the same way it trailed up, until you reached fifth position and got off pointe, allowing yourself to rest.

“That was very good.. I would’ve been a little disappointed had you not done that. Half the girls would rush, out of sheer desperation but you.. you did that stunningly. A very good girl, you are.”

“Thank you, ma’am.. I’ll be honest, I do my best to impress you…” Larissa quirked her brow. “Is that right.. Well, lovely girl, you do a good job at it. Let’s get those turns right and I’ll be even more impressed, proud, even.” Larissa hummed as she traced down your spine with her long fingers, and then reached your skirt.

Shamelessly, she began untying it, removing the garment from your body and throwing it next to her chair. “That thing only makes seeing the things I need to see harder.” You nodded in agreement, feeling your skin heat up as she held your hips for a few moments much longer than necessary.

“We will work on your left side another time. For now I want to focus on getting that left heel to stay up.” She stepped back, moving around you to be in front now. “Give me a triple pirouette.”

You took a deep breath in, breathing out slowly. You moved into fourth position, doing a deep plié before you started.

This time, you stayed up longer, but let your heel fall by the end. Larissa sighed. “Again.”

It went on for some time. Each time you would get closer to doing it right, finally. “Again.”

“Let’s try something. Think about doing four. Set your mind, we’re doing four turns, but remember you’re closing, cleanly, on the third.” You nodded, feeling anxious about how many tries this has already taken. No doubt you felt Larissa was tired of this.

With the thought cemented on your mind, you went for four. Just keep the heel up for four.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three, close it!” You landed it right as she finished speaking, closing on a tight fifth position, your arms rounded and lowered around your bellybutton.

“Absolutely perfect. You did perfect, my dear. That was the cleanest I’ve ever seen you turn.”

“Why’d you count?” You said in a whiny tone and Larissa couldn’t help but chuckle. “You all hate it when I count. But it helped you, didn’t it? I’m just guiding you, my beautiful girl.”

You smiled, “yeah it did help..”

“Come, sweet girl.” With hurting legs you walked to her, standing in front of her with little idea of what exactly to do. But she grabbed your hand and pulled you towards herself, wrapping you in a soft hug.

It was certainly an odd thing to do, but her warmth was something you seeked.. and God, was being in her arms delightful.

She rubbed your sides gently, caressing over your soft leotard. “You did very well, my star. I want to see this progress shown in the next class, yes?” You nodded, nuzzling yourself against her neck without even thinking about it. And breathing in.. she smelled expensive, a little woody but also floral. You wanted to bathe in whatever perfume it was she wore.

“Very good, my girl. It’s time for you to get home.” You almost whined as you pulled away from her, and Larissa hushed you. “Change out of your pointes, and don’t forget your skirt. I have to close up here soon.”

You nodded, going over to your bag and quickly changing into your street shoes and some shorts. “Um, thank you, ma’am. For helping me and everything.”

“It’s a pleasure to help such a delightful student like you, always.” You blushed, waving a quick goodbye before practically skipping out of the room.

Larissa smiled as she saw it written clear across your face, she had you wrapped around her little finger. What a good girl you truly were.

[wishmemel]

cherry blossom springs, ft. fushiguro megumi

synopsis: megumi's oblivious to a lot of things. he's just never seen or lived. not really, not like you do. the sky is blue, the grass is green, and you’re sunshine. but what is he supposed to do with that and when did he get so lucky to be able to call you his? tags: megumi x f! reader, non-curse au, megumi’s pov, established relationship, fluff, characters are in uni (2nd year?) but have known each other since high school, sanrio lover! reader as always, reader is a spring baby cw: i don't think there's any! wc. almost 1.2k posted: 08/03/24 a/n: i've had this in my drafts forever, just felt iffy posting it since the word count is so low and it doesn't exactly come off as a story :(( but then i thought it was too poetic not to and it'd be a shame if no one else saw megumi the way i do so enjoy!!

Your pinky is interlaced with Megumi’s and even though you’re here—at your class, where you’re supposed to be—he’s reluctant to let go.

He’s only just found you, how is he supposed to let go so soon?

The two of you pause outside the door, locking eyes with each other shyly.

Megumi’s gaze softens, his tone hesitant and cautious, as if he’s still afraid that you’ll turn tail and reject him. “You’re… you’re my girlfriend, right?”

You blink at him, then giggle a little in response at his insecure question. “Duh, of course. What, you want a kiss to make sure?”

He’s already protesting, eyes wide, ears red, but you plant a quick kiss on his cheek before he can say anything, and he just watches, dumbstruck, as you wave goodbye at him, still giggling to yourself, before heading inside the classroom.

He blinks, dazed, and wipes his cheek, staring at the pink lipstick smeared on his fingers with a stupid smile.

You chatter off about your classes and he nods, pretending to listen while he’s captivated by the sight of your lit eyes and your bright smile. The high pitch of your excited voice is music to his ears and he's convinced he must’ve been unable to hear before he met you.

It’s like seeing love take form in a person. He can’t help but be drawn to you, and, more than that, he’s still dazed, head spinning from trying to wrap itself around the mere idea that you were his and he was yours.

He can call you his girlfriend now. He can talk about you all he wants without feeling guilty or self-conscious about the idea. He can hold your hand like this in public, your thumb softly stroking against the back of his hand in ways that make his heart race. He can stare at you like this for hours, enchanted by what you’re saying and not have you question him because you’re his girlfriend and he can look and no one’s going to stop him.

Is this what love is?

He can never tear his eyes off of you—things that should be embarrassing, he finds endearing. He has the urge to stare at you all the time and he’s always resisting the urge to reach out and touch you, even in small ways, even a little, like brushing the hair out of your eyes or making you pause so he can wipe away a stray eyelash. You have this way of keeping his face constantly hot and red—he’s always blushing and it’s so humiliating, but it feels like love.

He swears he can see little hearts floating next to your head when you speak to him, and it’s like all your words come out as music, lyrics that wrap around his head and go through his ears like some kind of alluring song he can never get enough of.

He sees Hello Kitty themed things and immediately thinks of you, wondering if you’d like a keychain that he spots on a student’s bag or some large sunglasses on another—all so ridiculous and shameless and so utterly you.

He finds it senseless how you don’t care about anyone else’s opinion, how you flaunt your style and your likes. He finds it ridiculous that he’s stopped caring the longer he’s with you too. But why look at anyone else, why think of anyone else, when you’re right there?

You’re his sun, the centre of his universe—life without you would go back to being dark and gloomy and unbearable.

You tap his shoulder. He flinches.

“Megumi,” you giggle enchantingly. “You’re not paying attention to me.”

Has he ever stopped?

“Come on, we’re going to miss our next class!”

Spring brings with it cherry blossoms and it seems like you can’t get enough of the beautiful pink flowers that decorate every corner of campus.

You love spring for more reasons than one—it’s your favourite season and you love to see the blossoming flowers, always stopping in awe to point out each new bud to him with buzzing excitement. He finds it contagious, he can’t help the smile that twitches at the corners of his mouth.

When the two of you are apart and he’s missing you, he sends you pictures of the pink petals fluttering to the ground to remind you that he’s always thinking of you. You send him selfies of half your face in class, barely concealing the wide smile that you bear.

Before your dates, he plucks flowers from the courtyard of your university, late at night so he won’t be caught, and brings them home to colour coordinate into blooming bouquets tied with white ribbons. But when he shows up he never tells you where he brings the bouquets from and you never ask, though you must have noticed the coincidences.

Instead, you have on your brightest smile, this tender look in your eyes that says, for me? you did this for me? every time and it makes it so worth it that he forgets the bleeding palms and the thorn scratches and the hours he spent coming up with arrangements until his eyes started mixing colours.

Spring brings with it your birthday and you haven’t said a word about it.

He’s sure you think nothing of the event—he wonders how you’ve spent it in earlier years—but he’s determined to make it everything you want, gaudy heart balloons, tacky surprise party, and all. Even if he hates such events. There’s nothing that isn’t worth sacrificing for you.

You're always giving—you insist on paying for his meals when the two of you go out together (though he never lets you), you're the first one to initiate any physical contact between you and him, and it's because of you that the two of you are able to talk through your problems (because lord knows Megumi is the type to remain silent and ruminate over such things.) For once, he wants to take the first step, he wants to give you something that'll light up your face. More than just "seeing him smile" like you claim. Something satisfying and worthy. He's sure he'll come up with something in time for your special day.

Spring brings with it rain and it means, more often than not, that you two forget your umbrellas at home and have to run to classes on the other side of campus.

Still, you’re always laughing beside him as he uses his jacket as a cover, and he finds his head whipping at the sight, trying to take you in as much as he can.

You see him staring. You laugh harder. You tell him to look ahead before he falls.

He thinks it’s too late, but he’s afraid to say that out loud.

Spring brings with it blossoming, blooming love like the flowers you adore and the growing smile he can’t wipe off his face.

Under the cherry blossoms, Megumi thinks he could love you like this forever. This is his third spring loving you, but it can’t be his last. He wants to make sure this love continues forevermore.

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[virtualvault]

The Royal Treatment

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x f!reader

Summary: Reluctant to join the festivities at May’s birthday party, things start looking up for Miguel when he’s able to get the Princess Peter hired alone in the bathroom.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, teasing, begging, oral (f receiving),fingering, unprotected p in v, pet names ( princess, your highness), fingering,  praise, dirty talk, choking, handjob, cum swallowing. Reader is referred to as small/ short in comparison to Miguel and he’s able to pick reader up, but in my head everyone is small in comparison to him so it isn’t necessarily a defining characteristic of reader.

W/C: 3.7k

A/N: First Miguel fic yayy. This has been in my drafts for forever and I finally got the motivation to flesh it out. I had a lot of fun with it.  Enjoy :)

Miguel was being his normal grumpy self, standing in the corner of the party while everyone socializes loudly around him. He quickly relocates to the backyard where he can at least get some fresh air and a little space. But all too soon everyone is making their way to the yard as well for the upcoming attraction that, unbeknownst to Miguel, would quickly pull him out of his funk.

It’s May's birthday and while Miguel adores her, the snotty kids and loud parents crowding around him make him wish he was anywhere else. Despite his natural instincts to flee, he decides to stay. He’d really love to see the look on May’s face when she opens his gift.

While he's silently cursing the obnoxious children running past, you float into the backyard, and he’s glad he held out. And you truly did float. The shiny tiara and beautiful gown almost made him believe you were actual royalty. He's so entranced he doesn't even notice the screeching children as they flock around you, oohing and aahing at your costume. May is the first to reach you and you curtsey to her, making her giggle.

The first time you speak, his breath catches in his throat. Your voice has this beautiful sing-songy tone. It's enchanting, capturing the attention of not only the kids but the adults as well. Your gentle manner and honeyed tone hypnotize Miguel and he can’t look away. You’re clearly dedicated to your craft, carrying yourself with a level of grace befitting a real princess. The kids love it, but Miguel is the most enthralled; his eyes never leave you. If you weren’t so preoccupied with the other guests, you surely would notice him staring you down.

He roams the perimeter of the group for the duration of your 'act', planning to just admire you from afar. But when his eyes finally meet yours when you head inside with Peter to grab a well-earned drink and your check, he hastily follows. He doesn’t really have a plan he just know he needs to at least speak with you.

You’re standing in the kitchen sipping your water as Peter is telling you how satisfied he is with your service. He says he needs to get back to his daughter and Miguel conveniently swoops in and offers to show you out. Peter thanks him and retreats back to the yard.

“That’s a beautiful costume” Miguel comments, hungrily eyeing your body under the guise of simply admiring your attire. You reply with a quick, 'thank you' and he expected you to drop the princess act but your voice still holds that dulcet tone that has his pants tightening. It’s not as exaggerated, seeing as you’re not trying to fool any children, but just as tantalizing.

Unbeknownst to Miguel, you had felt his eyes on you earlier but did everything you could to keep your focus on the other guests. You take your job very seriously, but his intense gaze made it difficult. So, when you were escorted inside you had to gulp down your water and try to regain your bearings.

When you first spotted him, his tall imposing frame had you a bit intimidated, yet had your mind reeling with thoughts of what he could do to you. He can make anyone feel small and you are no exception. Your mind quickly conjured up the thought of him having you caged in against your bed, pressing you firmly to the mattress as he thrusts deep inside you. You had to shake yourself out of the fantasy quickly to turn your focus back to the crowd.

When he steps into the kitchen, you're on edge again, trying to push away the intrusive thoughts. You try your best not to just stand there, mouth agape and drooling at him, making it obvious you want him to defile you. You don't know what's gotten into you. It’s not that you never get these kinds of thoughts, but this level of intensity and depravity feels new.

He’s very intriguing, but you can’t find the courage to look him in the eyes. While he's scanning your frame, you take a deep breath and try to steady the quiver in your voice. “Um, I need to change. I've got kind of a far drive. Can you show me where the bathroom is?” you ask, impressed you formed a coherent sentence, even going so far as to finally meet his gaze. 

“Oh, yeah. Right this way.” he guides you up the stairs to the guest bathroom at the end of the hall.

 “I'll just wait out here. This house is a maze, I doubt you’d be able to find your way out.” he offers, hoping to spend just a little more time with you. It may be a little inappropriate but he might just ask for your number. You nod and slip into the bathroom. 

As you go to pull your clothes out of your bag, you’re hit with a sudden realization that has you stopping in your tracks. You had your roommate help you zip up your dress. How are you supposed to get out of it on your own? You frantically reach behind you to try to get a grasp on the zipper. You don't even get close. Left with only one option, you shuffle to the door, and are welcomed with a slightly confused look from the man in front of you. You clearly hadn’t changed yet and he looks at you, brow raised.

 “Um…can you…uh… undress me?” you sputter, realizing how that sounded, and frantically try to correct yourself.

“I mean unzip! I…I can’t reach the zipper, can you help? Please?” a small smile appears on his face at your flustered state.

“Of course, your highness.” He playfully bows to you, making you giggle. Still standing in the doorway, you turn around and he reaches for the zipper. He unzips it slowly and can’t help but drag the back of his finger along your skin on the way down. You let out a small gasp as you feel a tingle spread across your skin. He finishes, but doesn’t step back.

“It’s a shame, you really do look pretty in this dress. I’m sure you look even better with it off, but the whole princess thing really suits you.” he says lowly, and you feel his breath fan against your neck. 

 "Do you have anyone taking care of you like one?” his question flusters you so you simply shake your head.   

“No? Tsk, Tsk, Tsk. Why don’t you let me show you how a princess deserves to be treated. Hm?” the rasp in his voice has your thighs clenching together and without even thinking you squeak out, “Yes, please.”

 You mentally scold yourself for giving in to a complete stranger so quickly, but no part of you wants to turn down the offer. He's obviously delighted and you feel him smile against your skin as he places his lips on your shoulder. He surprises you when he zips your dress back up, seeing as you’re ready for him to tear it off you.

 He guides you back into the bathroom and shuts the door, making sure to lock it. Then, he pushes you gently against the counter, having you face the mirror, and proceeds to pull the sleeves down over your shoulders, planting kisses from one side to the other. 

"Aren’t you going to take it off?" you ask sounding slightly confused and then clamp your mouth shut, not wanting to sound impatient.

Miguel chuckles softly, enjoying your eagerness. "Next time." he replies. "You just look so delicious in this pretty little dress of yours."

 He sucks in a deep breath as he peers at your body in the mirror, taking in your silk clad form. Then he flicks his gaze to your parted lips. You're watching him with baited breath, anxiously waiting for his hands to finally start roaming your body. They currently sit firmly planted on your waist and he can tell you're wanting more. He can’t help but toy with you, though. There’s part of him that’s desperate to give you what he knows you want but there’s another part of him that wants to hear you ask or, preferably, beg for it. The latter part wins and his hand moves to grab the length of your dress, rubbing the fabric in between his fingers. You immediately miss the warmth of his hands, something you could feel even through the fabric of the dress.

“The whole time you were putting on your little show all I could think about was lifting up the back of this gown and getting a taste of what’s underneath.” he remarks. You noticeably shiver at the feeling of his lips moving against your ear as he speaks with a low, gravelly voice. Every time he talks you can feel the rumble in his chest, which is pressed firmly against your back. You can also feel his impressive length against your backside that has been rock hard the moment he pressed it against you. All of these things in combination with one another are overwhelming your senses and anticipation pulses through you. You need him. Now.

With desperation clear in your voice, you blurt out, “Please, touch me.”

He gazes at you with a dark look in his eyes and an amused expression on his face.

“I need more.” you add. Your eyes leave his in the mirror to turn over your shoulder and look at him directly. Instead of pressing his lips to yours like he’s so tempted to do, he lets you continue.

“You said you wanted a taste, didn’t you?” you tug on his wrist, urging him to move it lower. He decides he’s teased you long enough. He presses you harder into the counter before moving away and throwing up your dress, handing the fabric to you.

“Hold this for me, princess.” you grab at the fabric although your reaction was a little delayed as the pet name has pleasure shooting straight to your core.

He caresses softly up and down your thighs, and starts kneading your cheeks. The gentleness lasts only a few seconds and you let out a gasp as he rips your pantyhose. As he kneels behind you, he lets out an audible groan. You assume it’s because he spotted the wet patch on your underwear. It must be pretty prominent considering you’ve been dripping wet the moment you saw him. Before you know it, he rips those as well.

With your arousal now fully exposed you can feel his breath wafting over your wet sex, and you shiver at the sensation. He starts teasingly sucking at your folds one at a time, placing one soft kiss to your clit before dipping his tongue into your entrance. He eats you out like he's starving and your legs shake as his tongue dances against your walls.

After exploring your heat thoroughly, he runs his tongue from your entrance to your clit, back and forth, sucking on it gently each time he reaches it. As the rhythm gets faster and faster, so does your breathing. Your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip to try to stifle your moans, not wanting anyone to overhear. What would the parents say if the party princess was upstairs getting eaten out in a frenzy by a man she just met. You push those worries aside as the pleasure builds. You bring the fabric in your left hand and join it with the right, then reach back and grab onto his hair and start gently pushing his face further into you, urging him on.

He easily brings you to the edge with his movements but before you can reach your release, he pulls his face from you. You whine, but the disappointment quickly fades as your excitement over the prospect of him being inside of you grows. Once he's upright, you attempt to face him, wanting to go down on him too. He senses your intentions but holds you in place against the counter.

 “I’m meant to kneel to the princess, not the other way around.” he playfully whispers in your ear. He appreciates your enthusiasm but he's fine saving that for another time. He's desperate to be inside you.

He bends you over and you place your hands against the counter to steady yourself. He pushes your knees apart and wedges himself between your thighs, pulling your hips back to meet his bulge and can’t help but rub himself against you. The fabric adds a wonderful friction and you mewl in response.

Reluctantly, he pulls away, then proceeds to run his fingers through your folds before dipping them into your entrance. You're soaking wet but he takes a few seconds to work you open. He knows how big he is and wants to make sure you're ready to take every inch of him.  When he knows you're ready, he pulls his fingers away and releases his aching erection from his pants. He immediately begins stroking up and don’t his shaft, coating himself in your arousal.

Blinded by your desperation for him, you hadn’t really thought about his size being a problem, until you feel him run his length through your folds. You can feel just how big he is and you take a deep breath to calm your nerves. He presses into you slowly, and the head of his dick already feels impossibly huge. But as he slides in, you stretch and melt around him. He lets out a throaty moan at the way your walls grip him.

You hiss at the intrusion, but the slight burn fades quickly as his shallow thrusts push deeper and deeper. As he gains more momentum, he's pushing your stomach against the counter and you feel yourself being pushed up onto your tippy toes. He notices and takes one of your legs and sets your knee up onto the counter and the other is left dangling as he supports your upper body. His strength to support all of you is impressive, but not surprising.

He sets one arm against your waist and tries grabbing at your chest with the other, but can’t get a good grip through your dress. So, he opts for your throat instead. His grip is loose, just to help stabilize you, but you hum in approval and you lean against him. You lift your head up to look at him through the mirror.

"Harder." you plead and grab his wrist, prompting him to tighten his grip. He growls at the pleading look in your eyes and desperate tone in your voice and squeezes firmly, adding a delicious pressure to the sides of your throat. You hear his deep breaths and grunts in your ear as he quickens his pace and the sounds stoke the warmth in your belly.

This new angle has him brushing up against that tender spot inside of you and you know if he keeps going like this you’re going to cum. He knows this too. He can tell just by the look on your face and feels you clench even harder around him when he brings his hand down to your slippery, throbbing nub and begins working it.

Your mouth falls open into a silent scream at the added stimulation and Miguel glances back up to take in the magnificent view in front of him. Your tiara is askew, slipping slightly off your head, and your lips are bitten from how you've been holding them between your teeth, trying to keep quiet.

“Look at you.” He says breathily, leaning down to kiss up the side of your neck.

“So pretty. Who’s my pretty princess?” he asks, his dark eyes meeting yours. You let out a pathetic whine and turn your head away. His words send a shiver up your spine, but are unable to hold his gaze, suddenly feeling bashful at the praise. He notices, but continues.

“Hm? Who’s my pretty princess?” his hand leaves your throat to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him in the mirror. He slows his thrusts now to a maddeningly slow pace, awaiting your answer.

“I am.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. He caresses your jaw with his thumb, but continues looking at you expectantly. It takes you a second to figure out what he wants, but eventually the realization hits you. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your voice.

Now matching the intensity of his gaze, you reply “I'm your pretty princess.” His eyes flutter closed at your response. His hips stutter, then stop completely and he breaths in deeply, obviously trying to regain some composure.

Your lips curl up into a small smile at his reaction. His words have been flustering you since the moment he spoke. They've had you falling apart on his dick as he whispers filth into your ear while he takes you from behind. But now you get to see your words have the same effect on him, and a wave of confidence surges through you.

When he finally opens his eyes, he has this look in his eyes, like he wants to devour you, and it spurs you on.  You begin grinding yourself down onto him, fucking yourself back and forth on his dick as he stands behind you and he sees there's a playful smirk plastered on your face. A growl rumbles form his chest and he returns his hand to your throat.

 Momentarily overcome with the way your hips meet his and the drag of your wet, warm heat, his eyes fall closed again. He's tempted to let you continue, but the desire to see you cum, feel your walls spasm around him, has eyes snapping open. Without warning, he starts fucking you at the unrelenting pace he set earlier.

He knocks the smirk right off your face and you cry out as he pounds into you, his hand returning to your clit. Before you know it, you feel that familiar pressure building in your core, your breaths come in jagged gasps now, and he knows you're close.

 “I wanna feel it. Come on, give it to me.” he demands. He swipes faster at your clit you let out a squeak before you’re tumbling over the edge. Your body goes rigid against him as the waves of pleasure crash through you. You try to cover your mouth in an attempt to dampen the embarrassingly loud moans he’s pulling from you, but he pushes your hand away, wanting to hear every sound that falls from your lips.

As the aftershocks rip through you, his fingers leave your clit to grip the counter. He feels you pulsating and squeezing around him and it’s drawing him closer to his own release. His brows furrow and he's panting in your ear. You're a bit dazed from your climax, but you see the look on his face and the boldness from earlier takes over.

Before you can stop yourself, you pull his face to yours and tease, “Is princess gonna make you come?”

The noise that pulls from him is one that Miguel's never heard himself make, a mixture between a whine and a groan. His hips stutter and you hear him babble, “pretty pretty pretty” as he kisses the side of your face, down your neck.

A few moments later he’s pulling out and preparing to cum over your ass; before he can you're spinning around and falling to your knees. You don't know what's gotten into you, but you’ll attribute your brazenness to the praise he was just singing to you in combination with your post orgasm haze. You're looking up at him through your lashes and you grab him at the base, giving his dick quick, wet strokes.

You look up at him and his eyes are on you, enjoying the view from above. His lips part and he sucks in shallow breaths at the way you're cradling his balls while your arousal allows your hand to glide up and down his shaft with ease.

You smile up at him and purr, “Make me prettier.” You lean your head back, closing your eyes and sticking out your tongue, ready to feel his warmth spread across your skin.

"Oh fuck." he moans, feeling his balls tighten in response.

His body tenses, blood pumping hot, and with a deep groan erupting from his chest, he spurts his seed over you. You hum as you swallow and the tangy taste goes down surprisingly smooth. He looks down at you, admiring the way your tongue swipes the corners of your mouth, not letting one drop go to waste.

When he recovers, he wets the hand towel and cleans off the rest from your face. His movements are gentle, contrasting his previous actions, and he smiles sweetly down at you.

"All clean, your highness." he says softly. He sticks out his hand and helps you to your feet.

“I guess I better actually help you out of this, now.” he chuckles and unzips the dress, resisting the urge to pull it off you and drag you to one of the bedrooms for round two. But he needs to get back to the party before someone comes looking.

"Thank you.” you say over your shoulder and subconsciously lean into him. He kisses you quickly, yet deeply, before excusing himself to the hall to let you get dressed.

As he walks you out, you exchange numbers. When you finally reach the door, he finds himself struggling to pull his hand from the small of your back, not wanting to see you go.

“Thanks for all your help.” you say with a wink. You stand up on your toes and pull down to you for one last kiss. Before you pull away, he feels you slip something into his pocket. As you make your way back to your car, he slips his hand into his pocket, chuckling and shaking his head as his fingers feel the familiar lace material of your underwear that he ripped off you earlier. As he thumbs the fabric, he's already thinking about getting to pull them off you again.

[phoward89]

Obsessed!Coriolanus Snow x Innocent!Reader, Obsessed!Crassus Snow x Innocent!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Cussing, obsession, smut, fingering, p in v, suspected cheating, older man/younger woman, father & son both want the same girl, reader is just too sweet for this world and has no idea that the men in the Snow family are toxic...

This is the Coriolanus x Reader ending AKA ending 1. The next ending I wrote AKA ending 2 will be for Crassus x Reader.

This is also a bit long.

Masterlist

Ending #1-Coriolanus:

“How're you feeling?” Coryo asks, resting his chin on your shoulder as you sit together on his bed. You're literally nestled into him; his arms are wrapped around you while yours are wrapped around him.

“I'm fine.” You lie.

“No, you're not.” The blonde with a halo of golden curls tells you. Of course, he knows you're not fine. He knows everything about you; knows you better than you even know yourself.

“I don't want you to leave.” You confess, struggling to hold back tears.

Coriolanus had received his conscription letter for the Peacekeepers that day. A letter that changed everything the two of you had planned for your lives. It definitely changed Coryo's plans, since he was going to make things official with you. Make you his girl.

But now he's been drafted into service in the Peacekeepers. Apparently there's a dire need for Peacekeepers in District 8. Coriolanus says apparently because he's abso-fucking-lutely positive that his father's behind him being drafted into the Peacekeepers. All because he wants you to himself.

Coriolanus isn't stupid, he did graduate the top of your class at the Academy. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. With how his father keeps looking at you lustfully paired with the sudden conscription notice, well the blonde boy just knew he was being shipped away from you so that his father, General Crassus Snow, could poach his girl.

You.

Coriolanus also knew that it was now or never to tell you about his deep running feelings for you; to warn you about his father's dark and lecherous intentions towards you.

“Y/N, baby, we need to have a serious talk.” The curly haired blonde tells you, his baby blues boring into you with such seriousness that it was somewhat unsettling.

“About you leaving in 2 days?” You ask, sniffling.

“Yes,” Coryo nodded, “that's part of it.”

“Then what's the other part of it?” You curiously ask.

Coriolanus hits you with the bomb of, “I’d like you to be my girl; wait for me.”

“Wait for you? But, Coryo, Peacekeepers serve for 20 years and-” You begin to voice your worries only to be cut off and silenced by Coryo's lips pressing onto yours in a desperate, needy kiss.

Any thoughts that were in your head float away as you feel the softness of your best friend's lips crash into yours. Your instincts take over and before you can blink, you're grabbing Coryo's shirt and returning his kiss. Your lips slot against his in inexperienced motions.

Neither one of you has much experience, so your kiss is full of bumping noses and lips that're smooshing together in excitement and neediness.

Pulling back for air, Coryo leans his forehead on yours and nearly pants, “Wait for me, Y/N.” His baby blues look so vulnerable as he pleads, “Please, wait for me.”

So, of course, you promise to wait for him.

And that promise is what's having Coryo kissing you and pawing at you, begging you to fuck him before he has to go away. To let him make you his girl in every sense of the word.

You're nervous, having never been with anyone before, but you agree to sleep with Coryo. You figure that he'll be sweet and gentle since he's never been with anyone either. You think that the two of you losing your virginity to each other will be romantic and like it's portrayed in novels and romcoms.

But it's anything, but that.

Coryo's got no idea what the hell he's doing once the two of you get naked. For all of his bravado and confidence around everyone in the public eye, he's just a touch starved boy that needs somebody to love him so much. So much that it's borderline pathetic.

But, he's obsessed with you. And that obsession gives way to him nervously slotted between your legs, kissing and sucking on your neck while fingering your tight virgin hole with his long, slender digits. He's a bit awkward with his movements at first, but after you tell him what feels good and what feels off he starts to get the hang of things.

Coryo's thumb experimentally presses into your clit, swiping it back and forth, as his fingertips press against that spongy spot hidden deep inside of your wet cunt. His fingers, long and slender, slip smoothly in and out of your pussy.

Your chest heaves up and down as you feel a tightness form in your lower belly. “Coryo, I think I'm close.” You tell the curly-haired blonde, voice a wavering gasp.

“Wait.” Coryo ordered, his baritone desperate as he ordered you not to cum. “I wanna be inside you when you cum.” He tells you, pulling his hand out from between your legs.

You've never had anyone, other than yourself, make you cum before- but you felt the need to cum right now, so despite the hesitation you felt about losing your virginity you agreed to let Coryo be your first. Be inside of you when you both cum.

As soon as you said okay Coryo placed a shaky hand on your thigh, holding your leg spread wide while using his other hand to help guide his fat cock inside of your tight, innocent hole. Your nails dig into his broad shoulders as you feel him push every large agonizing inch of his dick into your wet, but too tight pussy.

Coriolanus, being a greenboy in bed, had no idea what he was doing or how to make the first time not be so uncomfortable for you. All he had was his baser instincts to rely on.

You let out tiny whimpers as your best friend’s large cock tore you open; he let out a guttural moan at the tight feeling of you. And when he finally pushed past your barrier and fully sheathed himself inside of your snug, wet warmth the both of you let out high pitched moans and groans. Your sounds of first time pleasure and pain sounded like a beautiful duet in the still of the night.

Your cunt felt so good around his cock. So much better than his hand does when he jerks off. So much so, that Coryo couldn't control himself; he ruts into you at a fast and needy pace.

He can't help it. You just feel too damn good.

Since you're already at the tip of the edge, Coryo's frantic rutting doesn't bother you. In fact it makes your orgasm bubble up and over.

And he just continues fucking into you at a sloppy, desperate speed, as he ride out your high. Coryo buried his head of platinum curls into the crook of your neck as he groans and whimpers while chasing his release. He's desperate to cum, so his rutting gets quicker in a last-ditch effort to empty his aching balls; to relieve his throbbing 8 inches of hard cock.

Being inexperienced, it doesn't take Coryo too long to cum while whimpering your name desperately.

Coriolanus collapses on top of you, his body acting like a weighted blanket. He doesn't ask if you like it or if it was good. But he does kiss you and tell you that he's gonna miss your pussy when he's gone.

And that you better not let anyone else use your cunt while he's gone cause it's his to play with; nobody else's.

Without Coriolanus by your side you fell into a depression. Yes, you received letters from him and the occasional phone call, but it wasn't the same. He wasn't physically around, like he's always been, and it hurt.

It hurt so much.

So goddamn much.

You felt so alone…

You thought that you were doing good job of hiding your hurt, your depression and loneliness. But you weren't.

No.

Crassus noticed it right away.

And he tried to swoop in and put a smile on your face by asking about your day or by suggesting you read a certain book in the library, but it never worked. Nothing worked to put a smile on your face.

The only time a faint smile appeared on your face was whenever Crassus handed you a letter from his son while shifting thru the mail after coming home from work. You'd always snatch it from him with a smile on your face. One that never quite reached your eyes.

You cherished Coryo's letters. He always complained about District 8 in them, but he’d also write a few lines about his feelings towards you. Always told you to wait for him; that he'd figure out a way to return to you.

Crassus, as cold and unfeeling of a man as he was, never kept his son's letters from you despite the fact that the middle-aged man wanted you as his next wife. His future First Lady. And why didn't he keep them from you?

Because he wanted to woo you away from his son’s affections. Crassus wanted the knowledge that he pursued you, courted you, and gave you somebody to confide in all the while Coriolanus was sending you letters that were borderline love letters.

Crassus wants you to pick him over his son, not because he made you, but because you want to.

Because you want him.

And having Coriolanus thousands of miles away serving in 8 would definitely help out with you picking the older Snow…

Out of sight, out of mind as they say.

But you truly did hold onto hope that Coriolanus would make his way up the ranks and quickly. Your sanity depended on it.

Despite Crassus’ attempts in trying to console you, you missed Coryo and wanted him. At least Crassus’ suggestion of taking up a hobby to help clear your mind seemed to help a little.

And what hobby did you pick up?

Baking.

Baking helped you deal with the loneliness Coryo's absence brought you. It also helped you forge a friendship of sorts with Crassus since he became your official taste tester for your treats. Oh, and you just sprung that on him one day. You didn't ask him if he wanted to taste your homemade goodies, just shoved some cookies at him one day and told him to eat it and let you know if you needed to tweek anything.

Baking also helped you deal with Coriolanus' betrayal. A betrayal that, sadly, you heard about from his own father:

Crassus.

While baking some cookies for Yule, the phone rang. Since Grandma'am was old, hard of hearing, and taking a nap it was up to you to answer the phone. Especially since Crassus was at work. If he was home then he would've answered the phone.

But he wasn't home, so answering the phone fell on your shoulders.

You dusted your flour covered hands off on your apron while exiting the kitchen and making your way to the main sitting room of the house; where the phone was at. Sitting on the chair right next to the phone, you picked up the video phone and answered with a simply sweet hello.

Coryo's face appeared on the video screen. “Hi, my darling rose. I've missed you so much.” He greets you with a wide smile that shows off too many of his pearly whites. “I've got some great news, baby.”

But you didn't want to hear it.

No.

Not after what Crassus told you a couple of weeks back.

“I just took an Elite Officer's Placement Exam.” Coriolanus beamed, his cheeks hurting from smiling so manically.

But you weren't smiling. In fact, you didn't see how this news was great for you. Not with what you learned about him lately.

“I bet your district whore’s really happy about that.” You snidely remark, letting him know that you're aware of his cheating while stationed in 8.

The platinum blonde, who's sporting freshly buzzed hair, swallows a lump in his throat. He keeps a neutral face, but internally he's sweating bullets. He can't help, but wonder who told you that he had a district whore.

“I don't have anyone, but you, my darling.” Private Snow tells you in a voice that's as sweet as honey and as charming as ever. But the way he tilts his chin up ever so slightly and bats his long golden eyelashes portrays a fake innocence; manipulative nature about him.

One that you aren't sure you want to see thru.

But…

You decide that you need to confront Coryo with what Crassus told you.

Taking a deep breath, to calm your nerves and slow down your racing heart, you looked Coriolanus straight in his baby blues via the video screen and told him, “Crassus told me that a couple of his contacts in District 8 told him that you've been with a girl for a few weeks.”

Coryo's freshly shaven jaw ticks and his chest tightens slightly. His eyes widen for a split second, only to go back to their correct size. And then Coriolanus does what he's learned to do best while away in 8. He spins things to suit him; to favor his agenda- his wants, his endgame.

“Y/N, baby, listen to me, please-” Coriolanus gives you the believable explanation of, “I haven't been with anyone. All I did was turn in a thief, that was a girl, for punishment. She was whipped and I helped her out of the town square afterwards.”

A look of longing crosses over his face as he swears, “You’re my girl, darling. My one and only girl, who I'm doing everything I can to return to and be with.” He tickles your eyes with honied words of, “I impressed my superiors and they arranged for me to take the Elite Officer's Exam. After I receive my official passing results I'll be transfered to 2.” Coryo raises his hand and caresses the screen as if he was caressing your face. “Once I'm at the Nut I'll send for you.”

“What?” You asked, taken aback by the private's words.

“Officers, even ones in training, are allowed to have a girl if they want.” Coriolanus smiles brightly. “It's a reward for hard work and loyalty to the Capitol.”

“How long will it take you to send for me, Coryo?” You ask, sounding both curious and apprehensive.

“I surmise a month.” He told you, only to quickly follow it up with a desperate sounding, “But you can't tell my father about it. Promise me you won't tell him, Y/N.”

“Why can't I tell him? He's-” You began to ask, only for Coriolanus to cut you off with a loud snap of, “Because he'll try to stop you, Y/N!”

Coriolanus shook his head, only to explain in a whooshing baritone, “My father wants you all for himself; he'll never let you be with me. You can't trust him with our plans, Y/N.” Giving you a hard look, one he's learned as a peacekeeper, he orders in a way that seems like a well meaning suggestion, “If you're getting friendly or close to him, stop it. It'll only tear us apart.”

You worried your bottom lip as a sense of melancholy and, if you'll dare say, guilt, washed over you. You didn't want to lie to Crassus about the plans Coriolanus was striking up for you, especially since you've been growing close to his father.

You surely had a hard choice to make.

You had to decide whether or not to believe Coryo when he claims his faithfulness to you; to run away to be with him.

But could you truly believe that he didn't cheat on you, that he was just doing his job in turning in a thief; making sure she cleared the town square after her whipping.

“Time’s almost up, my darling rose, but I'll write.” Coryo told you, making you snap out of the mental blackhole you were falling into. “I love you.”

“Private Snow, time's up!” You heard a man from off screen loudly about at Coryo, causing him to hang up on you before you ever had a chance to say I love you back.

That night while Grandma’am's sleeping you're in the living room with Crassus, watching an old classic movie on CapitolTV. You're on the sofa, body softly nestled into his side while Crassus has an arm loosely slung around you.

To an outsider looking in you'd look like a couple. But you weren't a couple. Just friends.

Right?...

Just when the noir detective was about to press a bartender for information on the movie a breaking news alert broke out and interrupted the film.

“We're sorry to interrupt your current programming, but President Ravenstill is dead. He died this evening, in his bed. The president was sickly and his illness was progressing far worse over these last few days.”

Never had a president died in office in the history of Panem. Usually a president would step down if deathly ill or old and an election would be held to name a successor. But the incumbent president would not officially retire until a presidential replacement was elected.

President Ravenstill’s death turned the system upside down and on its head.

Crassus didn't even seem surprised about the president’s demise.

Well, he shouldn't be since he's been paying a contact of his in the Presidential Palace to slowly poison the president to make it look like the elderly man got sick and succumbed to his winter illness.

“What's going to happen to the country now that the President Ravenstill’s dead?” You ask, looking up at Crassus’ pale blue eyes with worry swimming in yours.

Eyes that're the same icy shade as his son's.

But his holds a coldness while Coriolanus seems to hold- well you can't quite put your finger on it, but the younger Snow's eyes don't light up the same as they used to.

That you're certain of.

“The Senate will rule over the country while the election process is out into motion.” Crassus simply explained. Smirking, he adds, “I’ll be tossing my name in the hat as a presidential candidate for the Old Guard.”

“You're going to run for President of Panem?” You ask the middle-aged man, who you’ve developed a tiny crush on over the last few months, as the breaking news story ended and the tv resumed playing the old classic movie.

“Yes.” Crassus nods. “I believe that I can successfully get this country into shape.” And you don't doubt it. He was a former general; a war hero too.

“Petal, you'll be baking all sorts of cookies and cakes in the Presidential Palace once I'm elected.” Crassus confidently told you. He was already making plans for the two of you to be in the Presidential Palace together. “Maybe you can even give the bakers some of your recipes to bake as well.”

“Maybe.” You reply while watching the movie on TV.

Everything feels so surreal right now. Your entire day feels like a dream.

A winter’s dream that can't be real, but in fact it's real. It's very real.

And to top off your day; mark the night as unbelievable, Crassus placed a hand on your chin only to tip your head to the side and capture your lips with a kiss.

A firm, but passionate kiss that caught you completely off guard.

A kiss that turned into other things…

Yule came and went and so did New Year's. Your relationship with Crassus had turned into something that maybe you shouldn't have let happen. Not when you're waiting for Coriolanus to send you word about his officer's promotion.

You knew that he passed his exams since Crassus told you. It was an offhand remark about how one of his sources in 8 told him that Coriolanus passed an Elite Officer's Exam and would be transferred to the Nut in 2. The older Snow also crudely remarked that he felt his son would be bringing his district whore with him to warm his bed.

And his words had an effect on you. A negative one that made you doubt Coryo's feelings for you; his promises and words as well.

Grandma'am was oblivious to your anxiety. The old woman was too busy being enamored by her son's presidential campaign. A campaign that was running smoothly despite it only being a month in. Grandma'am was positive that Crassus would win the nomination for the Old Guard party and would be one of the official candidates.

And Crassus…

Well…

He was so worried about his campaign and beating his opponents that he rarely noticed you, unless it was to blow your back out in bed. But you weren't complaining about that.

You're a human that craves closeness and touch, you'd be a fool to complain about Crassus fucking your brains out night after night.

But you often wonder if you're together only due to circumstances. Crassus has never told you ‘I love you’ like Coriolanus has. That small fact alone has you leaning towards Coryo's offer to run away and join him in 2 at the Nut.

Surely if Crassus cared about you, even held an ounce of love for you, he'd vocalize it. Right?

And one night when Crassus got home he shifted thru the mail and handed you a letter from Coriolanus. “He's at the Nut in 2 now.” Crassus announced- his line of sight on the return address on the envelope he was presenting you.

“You said he'd be transferred there.” You reply, taking the letter.

Crasuss nods before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I need to go over some papers for my campaign in my office, so you go ahead and read your letter.” Before walking off towards his office down the hall, he told you, “I’ll be a while, but I'll join you in my room later tonight, petal.”

Left alone, since Grandma'am was visiting the neighbor Pluribus, you took a seat on the sofa and opened the envelope, only to pull out the letter. When you unfolded it, a ticket fell out. 

Your chest started to race as you realized it was a train ticket. Quickly, you began to read the letter Coriolanus sent you.

My darling rose,

I'm sorry for not writing sooner, but I was preoccupied with moving to the base on District 2. Living in the Nut, a base carved into a large mountain, is quite the adjustment. Also, my training has taken up most of my time too.

But, I promised to send for you once I was settled in, which is why I'm writing you this letter. Enclosed is a ticket for your passage to District 2. I'll be at the station waiting for you.

And please, my darling, pack light. 

Love,

Your Coryo

Staring at the ticket in your hand, you realized that you had a choice to make. A hard choice.

Runaway to 2 and hope that Coriolanus truly does love you; that Crassus is wrong and that his son doesn't have a mistress.

Or…

Stay in the Capitol, where you feel safe, with Crassus who's on a quest to be elected president. But, you're so unsure of where things stand with him.  

Maybe if you'd ask you'd get an answer, but you won't ask him. And he won't tell you.

In fact, Crassus thinks that everything's fine between the two of you. 

But it's not fine.

Maybe he shouldn't have given you that letter, considering it contained a train ticket for the very next day.

But whatever path you choose, you'll be spurning a Snow.

You made your decision, so there's no turning back now. 

Or at least that's what you tell yourself as you look out the window of your seat, watching the scenery while clutching your travel case. The canyons and mountains you see on your way to your destination amazes you. You've never seen anything like it in your entire life. 

Yes, you've seen the Rockies from the Capitol, but they weren't like the jagged mountains that touched the clouds you're now seeing. No, the mountains you're seeing now look so majestic. Something that belongs to the world of the giants in the old myths from the Pre-Panem world.

You were on the train for nearly two days whenever you saw a sign reading 'District 2 Welcomes You' accompanied by the station’s large building in the distance.

This was it, you finally made it to 2.

You chose Coriolanus and you know that he'll be waiting for you on the platform.

And when you exit the train with your fellow passengers he's rushing towards you, wearing his officer's uniform complete with the gray cap, and you can't help but think that he looks so handsome. With a huge smile, you run up to Coryo.

And when you reach Coryo you drop your travel case and jump into his arms, that he's spread wide open as an invitation for you to hug him. You instantly wrap your arms around his neck while he holds you so tight. His head leans forward and he captures your mouth in a kiss that's passionate and desperate.

“I missed you so much, baby.” Coriolanus tells you between deep, heated kisses. Kisses that are more spit and teeth than soft pillowy lips pressing together.

Kisses that have nearby soldiers whistling and civilians shaking their heads in awe.

Coryo groans while pulling away from the kiss. Smiling, he caresses you cheek. “First things first, my darling. We need to get to the justice building and make you Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.”

“You want to marry me?” You ask in an awes whisper.

Of course Coriolanus wants to marry you. It's the only way to ensure that he wins. That he has you.

You being married to the young officer means that you'll never be free to be with his father, General Crassus Snow, ever again.

“Of course, I want to marry you, Y/N.” Coriolanus softly coos, unraveling your hands from his neck before bending down to pick up your discarded travel case. Pecking you on the cheek, much like Crassus had done the night before you left the Capitol, Coryo drapes an arm over your shoulder and urges, “Lets go get married, my darling.”

Once you left the Capitol and became the wife of Elite Officer Coriolanus Snow of Panem's Air Force you never saw Crassus again. Well, at least you never saw him in person. You did see him on campaign commercials and in campaign flyers. 

You also got a letter from him once.

And only once.

All it said was:

Petal,

I hope that you're happy with the path that you have chosen. I'm afraid that in time you'll discover that your husband is not the man he portrays himself to be, but in fact a snake. I myself have never claimed to be a saint and I never hide my true nature from you. I am, however, truly sorry that your childhood friendship with Coriolanus was used to manipulate you into eloping with him.

I'm sad that I'll have to occupy the Presidential Palace alone; without the sweet smell of your baking wafting around the large kitchen. I shall miss your baking.

Lovingly yours,

Crassus

Crassus was elected President of Panem and he used his new position to unite the 12 districts with the long since destroyed 13. Crassus also pressed 2 to use their military academies to train children to become ruthless killers; volunteers for the games.

The Hunger Games.

Games in which children of both the Capitol and 13 were excused from. Capitol because it's the jewel of Panem, the ruling city. And 13 because that's the apple of Crassus' eye; where all of his nukes and weapons factories are. Also, 13 is the reason for him being filthy rich considering he's an arms dealer.

And when Dr. Gaul addressed President Crassus Snow with a law change that would drastically affect both the games and Panem as a whole, well, the spurned, cold man signed off on it.

You had 4 children with Coryo. And, sadly, they're all marked as District 2 born and bred citizens because of Dr. Gaul's amendment that all children born on PK bases would be district citizens; would have their names registered for The Hunger Games.

And since Coriolanus was stuck in 2 (he tried to get a transfer to 1 or the Capitol, but it was always denied) your children were also made to join the training academy for tributes.

And when your youngest son turned 18 he was voted by his class to volunteer as the male tribute that year.

When you saw the cold glint in your father-in-law’s icy eyes on the TV, during the tribute parade when the chariot for 2 rode up the Corso and made a stop at the platform Crassus was at, you knew without a doubt that your son being a tribute was punishment. Your punishment for leaving him and picking his son. 

You and Coriolanus having to watch your youngest son, Javani, fight for his life in an arena that he should've never been in was unsettling, unfair, emotional, and nerve wracking.

All because you picked the son and not the father. If you picked Crassus your child wouldn't be running around in an arena, hand in hand with a girl from District 12 instead of staying with the career pack alliance. But you picked Coriolanus and now, 25 years later, that choice is biting you in the ass.

But at least you listened to your heart when you ran off to be with Coryo. 

And Major Coriolanus Snow was obsessively in love with you. So much so that his infatuation with you grew every second of the day. 

But that doesn't lessen the pain in knowing that your son's fighting for his life because of the father you chose for him.

All you can do is hope and pray to the gods that Javani uses both his brawn and his brain to find a way to survive the games. But his possessiveness over the tribute girl from 12, who's his age, concerns you. Because there can only be one winner.

It's like that in both the games and life.

And Coriolanus was the winner of your heart.

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