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#wanted to try something slightly more ambitious
timesnewfishcat · 1 year
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sometimes it's just you and the person you took one look at and swore to protect and the weird dog they picked up against the horrors
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ominouspuff · 8 months
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Kote’s House
Kote’s first house is a pathetic thing, and he is incurably proud of it. The twi’lek he purchased it from very evidently could not make up his mind what to do with a man that grinned while he haggled, but it was the first time Kote had haggled over a purchase of his very own. He had thoroughly enjoyed it.
The house is built for one being, and a compact being at that, but Kote doesn’t have much. Moving in is quick, and most of his efforts during the next few days after go into attempting ambitious repairs for things he doesn’t know the first thing about. 
His plumbing is an issue, he knows. Something is getting blocked up. Somehow while trying to fix the kitchen tumbler, his fresher spout explodes.
He hadn’t kept his new house a secret from anyone by any means, but it is still surprising when Fox barges in through his jamming front door. He finds Kote on the floor in his cramped kitchen while the fresher rains water in the adjacent room, laughing so hard and so crippled with delight that he can’t get up.
He tries to explain how wonderful it is —
“I-I have to fix my plumbing on my own, vod—”
—but judging by Fox’s single raised eyebrow he knows it doesn’t translate.
Fox, it turns out, is moving into the neighborhood. Kote doesn’t ask about the house Fox already has — the house he has visited, which is very nice and fancy — or point out that Fox’s contract there cannot possibly be up, which begs the question of why he’s here in Kote’s neighborhood — except that Kote already knows the answer to that question. So he doesn’t ask.
Fox doesn’t show him any grace or forbearance, though.
“Don’t even know how to fix a damn pipe, front lining show-off—” His brother snarls, but it is muffled; his top half had to go down beneath the floor they’d pried up to get at the plumbing issue.
“So that’s what they had you doing all these years.” Kote says, because he really is in a criminally good mood. He barely ducks the foot-long pipe Fox throws at his head, feeling giddy.
He makes dinner that night in thanks. Fox stays, ostensibly because now that he’s fixed the fresher he intends to use it, because his new house isn’t hooked up properly yet to all the supply lines and power grids. 
They choke on homemade tiingilar (vode-style; Kote can’t pretend at the real thing yet) so heavily spiced it’s got grit to it that sticks between the teeth. It’s disgusting, but Cody had bought fifteen different spices and while usually he likes to keep his approach to the unknown more cautious, more methodical, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more than use them all at once for the first time. 
Wolffe joins them not long after; brings a few others along by recommending the apartment he picks out, so that soon most of the complex is taken up by vode, Kote hears, but he doesn’t visit yet. Everyone’s too busy coming over to his house, it seems; filling up his kitchen and asking why he hasn’t fixed the trash disposal yet, why he doesn’t have a couch, doesn’t he know they’re all the rage among civilized folk?
Kote fixes the trash disposal with Rex, who is better at it than he is but says it’s only due to Skywalker’s influence on managing all things mechanical. 
“How is Skywalker?” Kote asks, and gets more than he bargained for over the next hour. At first he’s a bit off-put, because he’s trying to get dinner sorted again and he’s not been very fond of Skywalker at the best of times, but Rex is snorting out a story and laughing and it’s contagious, so Kote just resigns himself and settles in to enjoy.
Skywalker has little ones, now. Obi-Wan is the only one that can get them to sleep. Ahsoka is distressed; she knows better, but every instinct in her is apparently in agony over the little ones’ inability to eat meat yet. She obsesses over nutrients in their diet — which, given what tiny natborn humans primarily ingest in the early stages, makes for some slightly awkward conversations.
Rex helps with dinner afterward, and they take turns being incredulous over natborn baby facts, shoving around one another in the tiny, uncomfortable kitchen.
“What’s your next project?” Rex asks at one point, glancing sidelong with a cheeky look, and Kote levels his vegetable knife at him (he’s got a vegetable knife. Specifically for vegetables. It’s a very new concept). 
“I make everyone’s dinner on Tuangsdays.” He says. “I’m productive.”
Rex’s sharp-toothed grin turns thoughtful. “Yeah” He says. “Everyone loves coming here, you know. You could be the new 79’s.”
Kote knows. He plans and plots, and puts more work into researching recipes than he’s put into any research whatsoever in months. It feels a bit like coming out of a shore leave; his thoughts quicken and his excitement grows. He hunts down a market. He brings a bag. He shops, bargains, and returns victorious.
He sends out a few comms., and can’t help but shake his head and grin at how different the responses are. 
What a marvelous idea, Cody. His general — ex-general — says.
Yus pls, Ahsoka sends back, with some sort of strange tooka vidclip that dances with wiggly gyrations Kote can only assume indicate excitement.
Where is your house, Anakin says, blunt and to the point, and Kote can appreciate that. 
He sends the address. He cooks all day. The sun sets, and Fox and Wolffe arrive, already bickering, Rex trailing behind with a long-suffering look sent to Kote, begging commiseration.
“Ugh, don’t you ever stop smiling, now?” He gripes when Kote just grins at him. 
“Nope,” Kote says, unrepentantly.
He leaves the soup on the stove, simmering, and takes his cup of caf to the window. He leans on it, breathing in cool air, and just listens — listens to the squabbling as Wolffe gets on Fox’s case for not washing Kote’s dishes correctly the last time they visited. Hears the soft thumps of Rex sneaking into the cramped room Kote has set aside for plants and the sole pet he has; a pastel goullian, fins swaying ever so gently, permanent scowl in place. Thinks he catches, distantly, the sound of his remaining three guests (Padme couldn’t attend, and had made him feel very awkward by how thoughtfully she apologized for it) plodding up the hill. 
“Cody!” Ahsoka cries, coming into view and waving. 
Kote’s cheeks have stopped aching from all the smiling he’s gotten used to, so it’s easy to let another through.
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saetoshi · 27 days
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i know who my first call will be to — sae misses home more than he thought he would
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Itoshi Sae’s heart stays behind in Spain whenever he leaves for overseas matches.
An absurd notion, most certainly. Ridiculous, in every sense that exists to the word. So unbelievable, in fact, that he still has a hard time believing it himself.
Nevertheless, it remains the only explanation behind the ache in his chest whenever he goes to sleep in an empty hotel bed. It’s why his meal times are dull and monotonous; why he finds himself pushing past his bedtime to remain glued to his phone, listening to you recounting your day.
Sae isn’t sure if you know it — how he desperately yearns to remain by your side. And if you do, you’re good at hiding it (he likes to think it’s for his sake).
His grip on his phone tightens just enough, a soft hum rumbling in his throat as he absentmindedly agrees with something you said.
When you lean closer to the screen, Sae nuzzles into his pillow, holding it tight as he pretends it’s you instead. You cup your chin with your hand, looking away as you trail off mid-sentence.
“I miss you,” he says, quiet and soft and so, so unlike himself, filling the faintest gap of silence.
Your eyes flit back, meeting his own through the screen. Sae has to strain to catch the soft exhale that leaves your lips. Then, you smile — gentle and (somehow) pitying at the same time.
“You’ll be home soon enough,” you say, your tone full of warmth.
“I want to be home now,” he replies, almost petulant as the pillowcase slightly muffles his words. His gaze softens when you do. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” you whisper, lightly poking the camera in a manner that has him instinctively scrunching up his nose. You tilt your head to the side, studying half of his face as best you can through a phone.
“My flight back is on Saturday,” Sae says, studying your face in return.
“I know. Want me to pick you up?”
“I land around midnight,” he mumbles. “I don’t want to keep you up—”
“Sae.”
The tips of his ears burn, embarrassment painting his cheeks red when your eyes meet. After a beat, he huffs in complaint, his brows furrowing. Still, your gaze softens; and he melts almost instantly.
He sniffles, lightly shifting onto his side. “I want you to pick me up from the airport,” he clarifies, trying to will a little firmness into his voice.
“Hm,” there’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest, fluttering and clinging to every corner at your soft hum. It further roots itself into him when you grin. “I’ll think about it.”
“What’ll it take for you to say yes?” he asks, trying to bite back a smile. He nuzzles into his pillow when you lean back, pretending to be deep in thought.
God, he misses you so bad. He misses being near you with every bone in his body.
“A kiss, maybe. If you want.”
Sae rolls his eyes, fondness buzzing in his chest. “I thought you were going to be more ambitious than that.”
You shrug, nonchalant, “I’ll max out your card when you get home.”
“Mm.” Sae rolls onto his other side, switching his phone to his free hand. “That sounds more like you,” he mumbles, soft.
The corners of his eyes crinkle when you guffaw, quickly defending yourself against his claim. His expression softens impossibly so — he’s sure the press would have a field day if they saw him like this. (Part of him thinks he wouldn’t care if they did; you’re the reason behind it, anyway).
“I wanna go home.”
“You’re staying in France for, like, two more days. You’ll be fine, Sae.”
He rolls his eyes, picking at the edges of his phone case. “Have you washed the bedsheets yet?”
“Yesterday,” you reply, absentminded. “Why?”
“Just wondering,” Sae murmurs, hushed. “Did you use the detergent I like?”
“Yeah?”
He makes a soft noise, “I hope you know I’m collapsing on our bed when I get home.”
“I don’t—”
“And I’m bringing you down with me.”
A soft, amused huff leaves his lips at your expression. His eyes narrow just a little, the action fond and affectionate in nature. When you sputter, Sae scrunches up his nose. He wishes he could kiss the frown off your lips.
“Whatever,” you grumble, softly clicking your tongue. “You’re lucky I miss you.”
“I miss you more,” Sae whispers, soft and gentle and so, so unlike himself. He supposes his demeanor is your fault — his heart turned to mush the moment he gave it to you. The thought is stupid and utterly asinine, truly.
Still, Sae doesn’t mind. He believes it more and more, letting it take root in his soul every time you brighten up at his tender, ‘I love you’s.
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I shifted and manifested with your Morphics challenge !!!!!
I am sharing this on an alternate account because I don’t feel comfortable posting on my main account. I want to continue using my main account so, I hope that’s okay.
I’ve been in the LOA community for a while and have consumed every piece of information. You know how it is.. I had a Reddit and TikTok shifting account and was literally helping people shift with my advice. But aside from maybe slightly hearing or seeing my DR, I had never succeeded, and even that was years ago.
I’ve gotten lazier yet more somehow ambitious since 2020 when I first started this journey, which is insane because you know how when you first find out about shifting, you have a lot of symptoms and almost do it, but then months and years pass, and you’re more desperate yet doing the same useless things. It was like that. I was enlightened; I could spew every method to you backwards, studied many years from teachers like Neville Goddard, Joseph Murphy, Florence Scovel Shinn, Wayne Dyer, Earl Nightingale, Louise Hay, Esther Hicks (Abraham-Hicks), Albert Einstein, Thomas Edison, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Wallace D. Wattles, Rhonda Byrne—okay, everyone and their teachers. I also spent so much money on paid subliminals, meditations, teacher personal subscriptions, witch spells, lucid dreaming supplements, etc., but there are some things money can’t buy, so really, don’t waste your money lol.
I’m not here to be wise and do nothing with that wisdom, so I realized maybe instead of trying to do everything so mighty and intricate and be pretentious in my intelligence, let me try something so simple I would be shocked if it worked. Then I came across a post that was like, "Everyone is going to shift in September," and I almost cried because I have been trying for almost 5 years. I’ve given everything, and I was starting to think LOA is a cult because, let’s be real, it checks off all the things of a cult:
1. Charismatic Leaders: Many LOA teachings are popularized by charismatic figures who attract devoted followings, similar to leaders in cults.
2. Promised Benefits: LOA often promises significant personal benefits, like wealth and happiness, which can be enticing and lead to strong adherence.
3. Community and Belonging: Followers of LOA often form tight-knit communities, sharing experiences and supporting each other, which can resemble the communal aspect of cults.
4. Us vs. Them Mentality: Some LOA teachings might create a divide between "believers" and "non-believers," fostering an exclusive mindset.
5. Simplistic Solutions: The idea that simply thinking positively can solve complex life issues might be seen as an oversimplification, similar to some cult ideologies.
It’s almost religious, but most people are religious, and you know what? Without faith in something, people might have probably just (TW) killed themselves. Everyone has some kind of cult behavior—religious, politics, loyalty to family who don’t love or respect them. At this point, if it was a cult, I guess I was okay with that. Hopefully, the belief would at least give some sort of false comfort. Because having awareness and enlightenment and still suffering is even worse. Ignorance is bliss, as they say.
Then I came across your challenge, and tbh I had tried every subliminal, meditation, binaural beat, etc., so at first, I thought, how will this be any different? But then I saw the LOA Bella success story, and I just felt this was my calling because I had never related to a success story so much. I wanted to cry because it felt like a sign.
This isn’t a very exciting or good story, but all I did was:
Morning
https://youtu.be/gOpZAPo8VvU?si=FA2oxWQkR6l2KU_M
During the day (together)
https://youtu.be/67T-wX2iqfM?si=-f-TvsYyQ_D-od1L
https://youtu.be/xwaSBZFucGg?si=8-XLLROuoIypBSu0
Overnight
https://youtu.be/uBHMmHbQwa0?si=h01rp0Ngdl7Xhv9C
Basically I had a lucid dream and woke up in my waiting room because I had used lucid dreams to get into the void state, but they were also fake voids, and it was annoying to think, "Wow, I’m going to wake up with my dream life," and then fail. So I was taking no chances. I had a dream I was at work, and this lazy girl was being lazy as usual but an actual nuisance. We were outside, and I was like, "Wait, I don’t work outside," and then I got too excited, so I started jumping around and did a backflip because I heard that helps stabilize the dream. Then I commanded my annoying coworker to take me to a portal, and she did. I envisioned my waiting room and set the intention that when I close my eyes and enter the portal, I would wake up in my WR. I walked through, and then I fell. I was scared to open my eyes, so I affirmed just in case as I fell, and I heard the beach waves, and I knew it was there.
I only did this for manifesting purposes because then I intended to shift back to the same reality but where I had my dream life and master shifting abilities and void ability.
Honestly, I was so depressed at that point I didn’t particularly have any dreams or aspirations, so I didn’t know what would make me happy, as sad as it sounds. But I just slid into my WR bed and set the intention because I knew anything is possible in my WR and fell asleep. When I woke up, I woke up in a brand new house with a brand new family in a beautiful room.
Now, like I said, I didn’t have any intentions, so for the last few days, I’ve been having so many surprises and things happening that I now realize, of course, I would want this. I am just very happy, and I can’t believe it was so easy after almost 4 years.
I don’t have any stupid enlightenment advice that I would have thought I would have when I finally succeeded. As stupid and cult-like as it sounds, don’t give up—something will click.
That's amazing! I'm so happy for you and your success :)) and I am even more happy that you’ve found happiness when you don’t even know what you wantedand that it worked out.
I had a very similar experience and what I took from this is to be open to experimenting with different methods because what might not work today could be the key tomorrow and it can seem random.
I wish you the best with your dream life and I hope you continue to find happiness in different ways
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violet-eng · 11 months
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Neuvillette and his arranged marriage with fem!reader - NSFW
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Summary: so... Furina is such a gossipy and she's kinda boring so she wants Neuvillette to marry to some random girl that can be a challenge for him... would he like this traveler?
TW: smut. Has a plot. Kinda angst? p i v. Breeding kink, praising. Unprotected sex with this daddy judge. I think that's all... MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE JUST KEEP SCROLLING.
🎨: @zlidbhypy/@zljdbhypy
💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦
The judge had lived long enough to be carried away by appearances, his image in society was expected of a man with his profession, with his knowledge and his stature. However, in the eyes of Lady Furina, as much a lover of spectacle and scandal as possible, the great judge needed a slightly more modern image to present to the citizens of Fontaine-and perhaps to bring a little gossip as well.
The idea had consumed her so much that at the moment she met you she could think of nothing else but arranging an engagement with Monsieur Neuvillette. You were the living image of what she was looking for: a young woman of society, a foreigner with a wide knowledge of the vast continent and above all, ambitious. 
There was a flash that Lady Furina highlighted in you, a furious soul difficult to tame, a challenge for the great judge. How fun it would be to see that: the distinguished gentleman try to control the disdain of his future wife, lover of saucers with spicy mixes, so friendly to those with vision Pyro... almost as contrary to him.
You met Neuvillette a day before the wedding, when Lady Furina had given him the wonderful news that he would marry you. He could not refuse, not the Archon, and she was aware of that-that made the matter more fun.
Neuvillette looked serene during the announcement, did not give the Archon the joy of a grimace of disgust... of course not, he was not like that...
On the wedding day rain fell so much as to drown the neighboring nations, tormenting those present of the ceremony. Monsieur Neuvillette was outside the compound, admiring the horizon, yearning for the freedom he possessed years before. To this had its existence been reduced? To be a puppet for the entertainment of the Archon? To tie himself for life to a woman he didn’t even know? If only he could return to his old form... spread his wings and get out of that place...
"The rain is wonderful," you exclaimed beside him, tearing from his chest an impression he managed to hide. "I hope the tears of the Hydro dragon are of happiness for the wedding and not of misery".
"They’re just legends, stories for children," he said, though an inch of him, deep down, was delighted by the idea that unlike the rest of Fontaine’s inhabitants, you didn’t dislike the rain... the one he was provoking...
"All legends have some truth in them," you whispered, giving him a sincere smile.
The ceremony had been short because of the rain, yet your happiness was overflowing. Your dress was drenched, your hair was alike... Everything was ruined, Lady Furina kept saying it, and yet you seemed to be living the best day of your life. Neuvillette could not look away from you at any moment, you had bewitched him, a single phrase had sufficed to achieve that...
The room was spacious, exquisitely decorated, illuminated to depth, the details and finishes seemed measured with hard effort... very much like the great judge. You had been unwise to ask if you had separate rooms, that had upset him for a moment... You certainly didn’t seem to have the same scruples as him.
You opened the window of the room, resting your elbows on the frame and sucking the dew that the rain brought with it. Neuvillette stood still in his place, looking at your figure, analyzing every detail of your silhouette, trying to perceive your essence, your energy... There was definitely something special about you.
"Can I come out?" you asked, were you asking permission?
"You must not ask for my consent to be free in the place" actually, he did not think it proper from you to ask permission for something… he perceived you from the first instant as a free being in tune with nature.
"It’s my way of asking you to go out with me to enjoy the rain," you said, approaching him and extending your hand. 
The thick drops of water hit the roofs, the fountain of the courtyard was about to overflow with water, the surface covered of the leaves that the wind had brought with it. You got rid of your coat and your shoes, went into the fountain and sat in the middle, above the water level, your legs dipping, you picked up the dress on your knees. The fabric was thin, almost transparent now that you were soaked and uncovered. Neuvillette scanned the surroundings, hoping no one would look at you, you were his wife... was he jealous? No, it was a simple sense of duty now that he was a married man...
"Come closer" you said from your position, pointing your finger at the place in front of you. Neuvillette, almost hypnotized by your loud attitude, dragged his feet towards your spot, sitting across from you, likewise, his legs underwater. The familiarity of the rain on the current that had formed under his feet was pleasant, almost satisfactory, so much so that it incited him to move his hands on the surface of the water, forming figures that allowed his hydro vision. You smiled at the small spectacle he displayed for you, admiring the sublime movement of his hands, the way his fingers flexed on the leaves and the drops of water ran down his hands.
You leaned toward him, taking him by surprise, joining your lips with his. He did not turn away, but, on the contrary, he dropped his hand against your neck, drawing you closer to him, tasting the nectar of your lips and your tongue.
"I want something to be clear" you dictated separating yourself from him, "we’ll have children... not because the charlatan Archon wants it for her entertainment, no... we will have children because we both want it, it was clear?".
For all the Archons... those words coming out of your mouth, pure poison, so hostile to the Archon, calling her in a way that he could never, with your face framed by your soaked locks and your lips swollen by the kiss... There was nothing he could want but a woman like you. 
The matter of your affinity for the falling flood, added to your folly of calling the archon such a derogatory name... you were an interesting, exceptional creature whose behavior went beyond his control and knowledge. You were a challenge... his challenge... and his enthusiasm grew in his chest as well as in his pants.
You had both returned to the room in sultry form, between kisses and gasps, getting rid of your clothes on the way. He cornered you on the wall of the entrance, his hand in fist resting above your head, his forehead against yours, the other hand holding your chin, joining his eyes. Neuvillette’s chest rose strongly, seeking air, bewildered by the growing ecstasy, the desire among you that was born. 
Taking you by the waist, he turned you against the wall, your face crashing against the cold marble and your palms resting at your sides. You felt his breathing on your neck, his chest against your back, his hands sliding over your curves, right to your hips, over your panties. You let out a soft moan as you felt the fabric slip under your legs and fall to your ankles.
"Monsieur..." you whispered trembling as the cold pouring through the room brushed your thighs and bare ass. 
"You don’t look as bold as you did a few minutes ago," he whispered... low, almost growling, you swore he was smiling, you sensed it in his voice.
"It’s... just... ah~" you cut the phrase in half when you felt him slip into you, separating your folds, forcing you to suck it. Your hands in fist, your hips rising, trying to avoid its passage inside you, your shoulders gathering at the sensation that flooded your center, your sex. 
"Monsieur~" you moaned, your forehead wet against the marble, your hands scratching the wall looking for something to soothe the burning between your legs, the feeling of its length between your damp walls.
You didn’t think the judge would be so vocal. When he slipped into you, he grunted, so pleasantly your legs seemed to melt. You felt the breath of his groan in your ear, your name coming from his lips.
"So soft" he whispered, resting his hands on yours, his forehead on your shoulder, "so tight..." continued advancing, rising to the bottom, "so mine"...
Neuvillette fucked you against that wall as if he was in heat-and perhaps he was-as if you were going to escape at any time from his grip, though you couldn’t. 
The moans and gasps were embarrassing, thanks to the rain they did not cross the walls, the sound of wet skin crashing during each penetration was burning, lustful. The words that came out of the judge’s mouth every time you girded your limb were a sea of incongruities, just as the phrases that your mouth dropped when he caressed your clitoris, that little lump had become his favorite toy.
The onslaught was strong, your breasts pounding against the wall every time he burst into you, rubbing against your delicate interior, which seemed made for him.
"You take me so well," he groaned, as he continued his beat against you, your breasts rising and falling down the wall. You were trapped between the wall and the monster of pleasure the judge had become.
"I will fill you with my seed, I swear..." he gasped again, his voice raspy, with flashes of hunger and lust.
"Neuvillette~" you let out a high-pitched moan, had touched your point, that felt so fucking good, the way he arched to hit that gummy dot on your cervix. He kept going, and kept going, you didn’t want him to stop. Fuck, he was so good at it, who’d say a gentleman of his countenance could be taking you like an animal in heat.
He kept hitting that delicious spot inside you, stroking your sensitive organ, one, two... three times, you suddenly felt a knot forming in your belly.
"Oh my~... don’t stop Neuvillette~..." you begged, eyes closed, lips separated by groans. The sound of his gasps flooding your eardrum... you both were close…
His onslaught lost rhythm, the intensity was almost unbearable, he came out one last time to get into you, fucking you so hard that you felt your orgasm burst and you let out a scream. He would not take long to reach his climax similarly, unloading all his seed inside you
The bed was warm, you needed it after what happened... Neuvillette lay beside you, caressing your cheek, watching the way you fell asleep. 
He looked out the window, the rain had stopped. He was completely happy... so long ago that he did not feel the fullness he had at the time... 
He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, curling your head in his chest, feeling the warmth of your gentle breathing. He closed his eyes, falling asleep beside you, yearning to tell you one day about his identity... someday…
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fatkish · 5 months
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Aizawa and Class 1A x Student Alchemist Reader
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In this, the reader has the same tattoos as scar. The reader’s left arm deconstructs molecules and their right arm reconstructs molecules.
The reader is quirkless so they use Alchemy to even the odds and are good at combat.
The reader took the entrance exam and has similar grade to Momo. Momo and the Reader share the 1/20 place amongst their peers
The reader aced the written test and destroyed the robots by using their alchemy to disassemble them. They got 45 villain points and 45 rescue points
When the teachers were looking over the students papers, Aizawa and Nedzu were amazed and skeptical of the reader being quirkless
Aizawa didn’t believe that you were quirkless so he used his quirk on you during his quirk apprehension test. Obviously it failed and he realized your were being honest on your paperwork. Still grilled you about it
Aizawa is ever so slightly more protective and stricter on you than other students. He worries all the time so he is a little harsher on you but you know that he just wants to push you a little more
You’re currently studying both flame and medical alchemy. You tend to study with recovery girl and help her out whenever you get the chance
During All Might’s hero vs villain training you were paired with Momo (Mineta didn’t get into the hero course) against Jirou and Kaminari. You won by creating a sleeping gas and put them to sleep whilst you and Momo wore gas masks she made
Bakugou refuses to admit your strength but has a secret respect for you since you beat him by altering his sweat’s molecules so it wasn’t explosive
Izuku has so many notes on you and has asked to draw your tattoos and you even began to teach him basic alchemy, although he sucks at it
When questioning you, you told Izuku that you were quirkless which he accidentally let it slip to his friends who then let the class know
After that you explained to the class that alchemy can be performed by anyone, it just take years of study and practice to perform and understand the basic rules and applications
Some didn’t believe you so you removed your shoe to show them all your second joint in your pinky toe as proof
Some still have a hard time believing it but most of the class accepted it
Kirishima, Sero, Iida, Jirou and Uraraka think you’re (manly) incredible and ambitious for dedicating yourself to something and making yourself strong despite the odds
Ashido, Kaminari and Hagakure still don’t believe that you’re quirkless
Tokoyami and Shoji both admire your strength and perseverance in trying to become a hero despite lacking a power and having been ridiculed and criticized for your dreams
Ojiro and you train in martial arts often as a means to strengthen one another
Tsuyu and you get along just fine as you both are some of the more mature students in classs
You tend to hang out with the quiet kids like Shoji, Tokoyami and Koda
You and Momo both bond over and help each other study the molecular make up of certain items
During the USJ attack, you used your flame alchemy on the Nomu. You used your conductive gloves to create the flames and tried to roast the Nomu
You took Hatsume’s place on Midoriya’s team in the Calvary battle
You fought Iida in the first rounds and won by creating a rugged and difficult terrain to run in as a means to slow him down, then you used your alchemy to seal his engines and managed to hit him in a pressure point that immobilized him
Todoroki was amazed when you were able to beat him in the sports festival. You turned his ice into water and then changed the arrangement of the stage’s molecular structure to that of quicksand and used the ground to swallow him up, winning your match.
Bakugou was pissed off when you altered your body’s carbon to be on the outside creating a skin of diamond like armor that his explosions couldn’t beat
You got 1st place in the festival but All Might accidentally let it slip during the award ceremony that you were quirkless
You got the third most offers from pros for internships out of the class
You ended up going with Best Jeanist and had a rather good time compared to Bakugou
After the Internships were over, you had mastered your flame alchemy and used it against All Might in your practical exam
Bonus: Todoroki learned that you can’t use flame alchemy when it’s raining or if your wet and accidentally started the ‘useless when wet’ shtick.
Now Bakugou makes fun of you whenever you get your gloves wet and acts like you need protection and enjoys babying you.
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vscabarca · 5 months
Note
can u do where the reader is a nursing student and has to do a test and makes gavi their “patient” since he’s injured. I can see it being so funny and gavi throwing a small tantrum. Etc Ty 🤗
nursing student - pablo gavi
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summary: you’re a nursing student and gavi is your "patient" to practice on.
genre: fluff
a/n: i absolutely have no idea about anything medically related, so everything here is made up🤣 and thank you for the request! i‘ve actually got two requests like that in my inbox so i combined them:)
———
„Do I really have to do this?“ Gavi whined, already being splattered across your bed, accepting his fate as your test subject.
You were an ambitious nursing student, currently studying for your final exams of this semester. You were specialized in sports medicine because of the internship you were doing at FC Barcelona. That‘s also how you met your boyfriend Gavi. You were the one taping up his ear as he injured himself against Osasuna.
„I just need someone to practice on, but I can also practice on Fermín if you want.“ You teased, knowing Gavi would become jealous quite quickly. As you predicted, he swiftly turned his head, giving you an annoyed glare.
„That was not funny.“ Gavi said, placing his hands behind his head, watching you as you prepared everything for your examination.
„Baby I was joking. I wish you were the test person during the exam.“ You chuckled and walked over to him, giving him a kiss for reassurance. He shyly smiled when you broke apart, feeling better after you gave him a small ego boost.
You put on your gloves and walked over to the side Gavi was laying at.
„Okay just tell me if I hurt your knee during the examination.“ You said. Gavi was still recovering from his ACL injury, so you were more careful than usual.
He nodded, then sat up to remove his shirt for your general body check-up.
Your eyes swiftly glanced over his toned body and you felt your temperature rise. After all it was difficult to concentrate when your handsome boyfriend laid there only with shorts on. To that, you knew he was going to tease you for becoming shy.
„Are you nervous?“ Gavi’s voice lingered in suspicion, his eyebrows were crooked. You rolled your eyes but he was right, you were a bit nervous.
You first checked his heart and lungs with the stethoscope and as soon you pressed it onto his chest, Gavi whined again.
„Amor it’s cold!“ He twisted around the bed, making you let out a chuckle.
„C‘mon it’s not that bad. You’ve done this a thousand times during medicals, do you complain there too?“ You scolded with a laugh and continued to listen to his heartbeat.
He gave you a side eye, pouting slightly at your words. You kissed his pout away a second time and looked for a flashlight to check his eyes. (a/n: i hope you know what I mean lol)
„Do you kiss all your patients?“
„Only the hot ones.“ You returned with a grin, to which Gavi let out a smile.
„Alright let’s check your flexibility.“ You said, trying to distract yourself from the teasing. After all you had to practice, there was no time to swoon over your man.
After checking his knees, being extra careful with his right one, you moved over to looking at the anatomy of the human body. This was also a big part of your exam, so it was the perfect time to look at an athlete‘s body.
„Okay so this here is the biceps brachii muscle.“ Your hand softly traced over his arm until you reached his shoulder. „…and this here is the trapezius muscle…“ you were in your own world, your gaze shifting from the textbook over to Gavi‘s body several times to see if you were right. Gavi smiled softly. He first wanted to tease you again about something, but as he saw you so concentrated, so focused on studying the right thing, he let it be and just admired you.
Gavi was proud to see you studying medicine. You were so smart, always giving him a massage or taping him up if something was nagging him after practice.
„Although I don’t like being your test subject and would rather cuddle with you, I can’t stop being so proud of you.“ You looked up, your cheeks red once again after hearing his words. A shy smile spread across your face as his compliments still made you nervous.
You stood on your tiptoes, textbook and anatomy long forgotten and grabbed his neck to bring him closer. His lips soon found yours and you both got lost in the sweet feeling of each other. Gavi brought you in a hug, quietly whispering into your ear.
„Can we cuddle now?“
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kasagia · 1 month
Text
I love you... I am sorry
Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!witch! reader Summary: According to Baghra, there is only one person who can save her son. You—his first love and a witch who can control the powers of the Darkling. Aleksander becomes a prisoner of the Sun Summoner and King Nikolai, and you are to control and watch over him as he works for his redemption... but does he have the strength and will to continue fighting? And while everyone is busy saving Ravka from Fjerda and Shu Han, you're busy saving Aleksander from himself. Even though he doesn't want you around anymore... Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 2 ~•♤♤♤•~
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"I don't like this," Nikolai grumbles as he, Baghra, and Alina walk deeper into the forest near Ulensk. "Wouldn't it be easier for us to just kill him?"
Alina tenses as she hears the howling of wolves nearby. She weakens her ball of light slightly and instinctively approaches Baghr. Ever since they destroyed the fold, Fjerda and Shu Han have become... more daring in their travels near the border. Something Aleksander had warned her about. She didn't want to risk running into one of the Fjerdan's stray troops.
"We are not like him. He deserves one last chance before we get rid of him." Nikolai sighs and nods. They walk in silence for a few more minutes until they finally reach a small clearing. Baghra stands, staring at one spot.
"Shine more brightly." She orders Alina and kneels down.
Baghra takes out a dagger and cuts her hand. She smears her blood across the leaves, mumbling words under her breath in old Ravkan. Alina and Nikolai look at each other uncertainly when suddenly the branches of the surrounding trees grow. They connect with each other, creating an impenetrable wall around the three of them. Nikolai reaches for his sword, and Alina instinctively reaches into her pocket for her amplifier. The fog thickens around them and the ground shakes slightly as a small wooden hut rises from beneath it.
"I'll go first." Baghra announces and stands up.
"No. We're all going together."
"She's probably not a big fan of yours, Sankta Alina." Baghra sneers, sending the girl a mocking look. "I better get her ready for you."
Alina stubbornly follows Baghra, ignoring her words and disapproving look. Nikolai reluctantly joins the two women, and so the three of them cross the threshold of the small hut.
They enter a living room full of bookshelves and various crystals. A fire burns in the fireplace, and the air smells of lavender from the incense burning on a table covered with various pots, magnifying glasses, and metal tools. The candles burn a little brighter when the door behind them suddenly closes with a loud bang.
"Millennium, and you haven't learnt to knock? Besides, I thought you hated draught." Baghra rolls her eyes at your mocking voice.
You push past the uninvited guests and sit down at the table. You sip your tea and throw the crystal into the cauldron, then set it over the fire burning in your fireplace.
"You probably know what my son has been up to lately?"
"Aleksander has always been an ambitious man. I thought we were all aware of that fact." Alina feels an unpleasant pang in her chest when you use the Darkling's true name when you refer to him. She shakes her head, trying to dispel the unwanted feelings.
"You call the creation and expansion of the fold ambitious?" Alina asks you, irritated. Baghra elbows her in the ribs, but she ignores it completely, giving you a stern, appraising look.
"And you probably think that destroying it was ambitious, right, little sunbeam?" You mock her without even looking at her. Alina doesn't like it at all.
"That was the right thing to do. That was needed to be done."
"Anything that helps you sleep better at night, sunshine. But you realise that now the Fjerdans and the rest will be entering Ravka as if it were their own land, right? If you think the fold was a problem for Grisha, just wait until all the kidnapping, rape, and experimentation on your people begins. I'd love to see what desperate move you will make next when you realise that your problems are only beginning, oh holy Sankta Alina of the Fold."
"I'm not here to discuss Ravka's future with you."
"You shouldn't be here at all." You state, and yawn boredly. You go to the fireplace and take your pot. You put it on the table and stir the dissolved crystal. You prepare a form to pour the mass, but first you add a few leaves and flowers to the substance.
"We need your help. With maintaining control over Aleksander."
"Oh really? Do you remember that time you told me to fuck off because I was of no use to you or your son?" You remind her, smirking as she clenches her teeth and fists, barely controlling her anger. "Besides, Aleksander has never been the submissive type... did it stay that way, Sankta Alina?" You almost laugh as you see the girl blush madly as she can't find her tongue at your comment.
"I… we never…"
"Oh really? Well, my mistake. And your loss." You say, winking at her and giving her a wolfish grin. Baghra clears her throat, drawing your attention for a moment.
"If you don't help us, they will kill him." You frown, setting down all your tools and turning to face the trio. A cold shiver runs down your spine as you carefully choose your next words.
“And remind me, why should I care?”
"I thought you liked your immortality." Baghra nods at your necklace. You wrap your hand around the small heart and swallow, examining her carefully.
"He told you?" You ask in shock, looking at the old woman.
"Of course not. It's Aleksander. I found out on my own." You roll your eyes and fold your arms at her accusatory tone of voice.
"Don't blame him for something you taught him yourself." You respond calmly, giving her a pointed, hard look. Baghra tenses and looks away from you to the crystals hanging above your table. The tension in the room is palpable as you both reminisce about old times.
Maybe centuries ago you managed to break through the wall Aleksander had placed around his heart and see the real him, but just as long ago as you gained access to the deepest and darkest part of him, you lost it long ago and quickly.
"Will you go with us?" Baghra growls, not meeting your eyes. You swallow hardly, thinking about it. You knew that there would come a time to right the wrongs of your past; you just didn't think it would happen so soon. Although, was 500 years a short time?
"And do I have another choice in this situation?" You sigh, knowing full well that it was time for you to join this great war the Summoners were leading.
Ravka needed you.
Aleksander needed you.
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“What are you thinking about?” You whisper, placing small kisses on his neck—everywhere you can reach without taking your head off his shoulder.
You and Aleksander lie in the tent, listening to the crickets play their nightly tunes around you. You curl up against him, taking in his warmth as you both catch your breath after completing some... quite enjoyable and pleasant activities.
“How soft your skin is... just as if I were wearing the finest silk.” You snort at his words and prop yourself up on your elbow so you can look at him. You stroke his cheek with your hand, ignoring the prickly two-day stubble on his face, and lean down to whisper in his ear.
"Not that I don't appreciate your ability to fire off compliments so quickly, but I really want to know what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours."
Aleksander sighs heavily and pulls you to him. He kisses you full of passion and ardour, as if you hadn't just given yourself over to each other's desires a few minutes ago. You sigh quietly, allowing him to distract you for a moment with a heated kiss as he climbs on top of you again, trapping you in the cage of his arms.
You place your hands on his chest and reluctantly pull away from his kiss. You pull him closer to you so he rests his forehead against yours, and you inhale his scent, enjoying his closeness.
"I still remember my question, how about you?"
He sighs, playing with your hair. He closes his eyes and gives you one last, short kiss before he rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You sigh, lying pressed against his chest as you listen to the steady beat of his heart. Aleksander plays with your hair, drawing patterns on your scalp with his fingers. He gathers his thoughts, pulling you closer to him and swallows hard before finally speaking again.
"I saw Ulla." You frown, feeling his muscles tense beneath you. You gently trace patterns on his arm with your fingertips, watching him closely as he mentions his sister.
"How is she?"
"Besides the fact that that idiot broke her heart? Very… lonely from what she told me." You sigh and press a kiss on his shoulder. He gives you a small half-smile and runs a hand through your hair.
"She needs time to heal. You'll see, you'll complain again that she and I spend too much time at the fairs and by the lakes and that she's stealing me from you." You joke, hoping to hear him chuckle, but he just sighs deeply, still haunted by thoughts of his sister.
"I asked her to return. To me. To us." He says thoughtfully and unconsciously tightens his grip on you, as if he were afraid that you might slip out of his arms at any moment.
"She didn't agree, I assume?" You ask quietly, cupping his cheek in your hand and stroking it tenderly with your thumb.
You want to give him all the physical closeness he needs. Give him every little reassurance that for now you're staying and you're not going anywhere. Or at least you hope to stay with him a little longer...
"Every person close to me, whether from my family or not, eventually leaves me. And never comes back. I'm afraid it'll be the same with her. I've buried a lot of brothers and sisters... but Ulla... it's different with her. I've taken care of her since she was a child. From the very beginning. I know she won't live as long as I, but... I'm sick of everyone leaving me."
"Ulla loves you. She won't leave you for long… I hope so."
"And would you come back to me? If we somehow got separated... would you return if I asked you to?" He asks, looking at you carefully.
In a heartbeat. You think about it, but you don't tell him. You don't want to give him false hope. Instead, you press lazy kisses along the column of his neck and jaw.
"Depends on how passionately you would ask me to…" You whisper seductively against his ear. A smirk appears on his face, and he raises an eyebrow, giving you a wicked, suggestive look.
“Greedy little thing.” He mumbles, nuzzling your cheek. His lips descend to your neck, where he sucks a hickey. You moan, exposing more of your neck to him and grinding against him.
“That’s why you love me.” You whine as he pushes you onto your back and presses his chest against yours. He cups your cheek in his hand, staring at you as if he’s trying to memorise and engrave every little detail of your face into his memory.
"I love you for more than that, little witch…" He mumbles into your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
A shiver of desire courses through you again. You pull him to you and kiss him passionately, digging your fingers into his shoulder as his hand wanders below your collarbone and cups your breast. He massages and kneads your body, plays with your nipple, and all you can think about is how good you feel under him, how he makes you experience pleasure so intense that you doubt you'll find it with anyone else.
You don't want to look for anything else. You want to be under him forever, intoxicated by the touch of his soft lips and rough hands as he takes you apart into tiny pieces, showing you the secrets of unimaginable and immense pleasure that makes you feel like you can't breathe anymore.
And you find yourself wanting to stop breathing if it meant that you would stay with him forever.
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"From where exactly did you get your powers? Grisha are born that way, what about you? Has your family been witches for generations?" The young king of Ravka's question tears you from your thoughts.
"Why this curiosity, Your Highness?" You reply teasingly, watching him closely as you all rode horses to the capital.
You had been on the road for a few days now, and you were now leading them to one special place. Alina and Baghra, when they weren't giving you suspicious glances, were whispering to each other. Meanwhile Nikolai was trying to keep you occupied with conversation. He turned out to be a pleasant traveling companion. Not like certain women.
"A good king should take an interest in his subjects and know what kind of people live within the walls of his kingdom." His simple answer surprises you a little. The kings of his dynasty had a... completely different approach to this. Your years had taught you to distrust all monarchs, but this young king really did seem different from them all. You wondered how quickly he would fall.
"I am not your subject. I may live in Ravka, but neither I nor my family have ever sworn allegiance to the kings frim your dynasty. And we don't intend to."
"I see… so a free spirit? A woman of the world, as they call it?" You chuckle at this, shaking your head gently.
"You could say that. We sleep where we have comfortable moss under our heads, under the open sky with the stars as our guardians. I and the witches of my tribe are one with nature, with the earth, with what grows and dies on it. We are the guardians of the circle of life."
"However, not all of them decide to be in this cycle of life and follow it." Baghra points this out scathingly. You turn in your saddle to look at her for a moment.
"My immortality is no problem for Mother Nature, Baghra. Neither is yours. Nor is Aleksander's, or your little saint's. But it is in my care that the whole world does not suddenly become immortal. There is a worse evil in your shadows than you, volcra or nichevo'ya. And if I could go back in time, I would do the exact same thing… maybe just in a different way."
You shift your gaze from the old woman to the lakes before you, leading your horse onto a side path. You were not far from your destination place. You close your eyes and sigh, trying not to bring up any more memories of your past... any memories of HIM.
Yet, no matter how many years you have lived, you have never been able to contain your burning feeling of regret whenever you remembered what happened between you and Shadow Summoner.
"So? From where did you get your powers?" Nikolai pursues the topic, wanting to know the answer to his question. You run a hand through your hair and pull the hood over your head, realizing you won't get far without an answer. Autumn was coming. Cold autumn.
"The witches' coven I belong to accepts a new member every 100 years. In exchange for the powers the new witch receives from Mother Nature, she must sacrifice something."
"So what did you sacrifice? Your mortality?"
"No. She has sacrificed her ability to lie. She can only tell the truth. But do not be deceived. Even without that, she can conceal part of the truth and mislead you." Baghra answers for you. You roll your eyes at her, scanning the area. You smile when you see a familiar pine tree.
"I had a reason to do that. It was not an act of cunning on my part. I had to unless... that's not important now. Besides, I am far from a master like you, Baghra." You hear Nikolai chucklea softly as you speed up your horse. You reach the tree and dismount, sighing in relief as your feet touch the ground.
You walk to the tree and lean your hand against it. You grab one of the crystals you keep in your pocket and the dagger. You make a hole in the tree's bark and insert the crystal. You whisper a few words under your breath and sigh, feeling the wind on your skin. The water in the lake splits in half. You turn around with a small smile on your lips.
"Hello Ulla." You greet Aleksander's sister with a smile, watching Baghra turning pale from the corner of your eye as she faces the daughter she abandoned ages ago.
Best day of your life.
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"How is he?" You ask Aleksander's sister when she returns from the cell they're keeping him in. The brown-haired one snorts, jumping onto your bed and taking your glass of whisky from you.
Today, your little group finally made it to the capital. The first thing Ulla did was visit her brother. She looked older than the last time you saw her. Streaks of grey hair were starting to appear on her head, and you swear you saw a few wrinkles on her face. Time had done its thing to her. Your heart ached at the thought that in 300 years, she might not be here anymore...
"Angry, frustrated, resigned. At first, I didn't recognise him at all. Those scars... and he... he doesn't have that twinkle in his eyes like he used to. Like... like he doesn't care anymore. He was excited to see me, but this... this isn't the same Aleksander he was before. I felt like a stranger was standing before me, not Sasha. Baghra was right. Something's wrong with him."
"I'll kill their little saint. And your mother." You growl completely mad at them both because of the state they brought Aleksander to and get out of your bed. You go to the closet and put on one of your grey coats, ignoring the mischievous look Ulla gives you.
"You still love him, don't you?" You roll your eyes at her and shove your hands into your pockets, making sure you have a few crystals there in case you need to use your magic.
"I forgot how much you love coming up with your conspiracy theories. Which by the way are very annoying."
"You're not answering my question." She replies with a smirk. She walks over to you and gently smooths your hair. You snort, pushing her hands away, knowing full well that she's getting you ready to meet her brother.
"It's no secret that I care about him. We spent a good few years together, almost a century if I remember correctly. Is it possible to just forget about someone like that?"
"I don't think so. You should have seen his reaction when I told him you came here with me. I thought he had a heart attack." You groan at her words, disbelieving that she was actually playing matchmaker between you and her brother right now.
"You told him?!"
"You go to him anyway. What's the problem?" She replies indignantly, walking back to your bed and laying down on it. You roll your eyes at her, and with a wave of your hand, the pillow she had under her head disappears. Ulla shouts at you angrily, and you quickly materialise the pillow in your hands and throw it at the woman.
"Because of you, I lost all the element of surprise that I could have used on him to get some information!" You growl at her angrily, grabbing and throwing away the pillow she threw at you. You jump on the bed and pin her to the mattress, laughing at her as she growls, trying to get out from under you.
"Wait! Wait! I'll tell you how he reacted to that!!" She screams from under the pillow you've started to smother her with. You lift the pillow enough to look at her face.
"How? He made those big, puppy eyes of his and asked you to free him from his cell so he could run to me and give in to his long-held passion and feelings?" You mock her as you climb off of her. You lean against the wooden bedpost, watching her try to catch her breath.
"More or less… he asked what you looked like, how you were, if we had met before… if you were with someone." She says maliciously, giving you a big, sly, wolfish smile.
"You're joking, right?" You ask her, trying to hide your surprise under a neutral, bored tone.
"No. Our Sasha wanted to know if you had someone for his place."
"Is that exactly how he put it in words?"
"Well… maybe not." She replies after a moment, running a hand through her hair. You sigh, shaking your head at her in disbelief. So many years, and sometimes she still behaved like a child.
"Ulla." You growl at her and reach for the pillow again.
"Okay, okay. No need to be violent. He asked if Baghra had also sent for you, so that you could fly in on your magic broom and stab him in the heart once and for all, or if you had found yourself a new more intersting toy, but hey, at least he was interested and asked!"
"Poor consolation."
"You know how Sasha is." You sigh in resignation at this. You bite your lip so hard that you taste your own blood on your tongue. You promised yourself that you wouldn't get your hopes up… Aleksander and you were a long-finished affair. No matter what his sister thought.
"I know him too good to have any illusion that he sees me as anything more than an enemy and a traitor." You answer and get out of bed, mentally preparing yourself to meet him.
"Where are you going?!"
"To him! A day without tormenting him is a wasted day!" You shout over your shoulder and close the door behind you.
You walk lazily through the corridors of the Grand Palace, as if deliberately prolonging the moment of seeing Aleksander, and head towards the second building in the royal courtyard. You sigh again as the majestic panorama of the Little Palace unfolds before you.
Looking at the beautiful, imposing building, you reluctantly recall the plans your Shadow Summoner made centuries ago.
“What are you doing?” You ask, coming up behind him as he sits at one of the tables in the library of the town you’re staying in for a few nights.
Aleksander bounces slightly in his chair and quickly shoves his sketchbook and art supplies into his bag. You frown, wondering what he's hiding from you, when he turns to you with that damn distracting smirk on his face.
"Nothing important, milaya. Were you looking for me? Do you need anything?" He asks and walks over to you, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses your forehead tenderly before he wraps his arm around your waist and starts leading you out of the library.
"Your mother was looking for you. She needs babysitters for Ulla again." You say, nuzzling his neck and inhaling his scent. You wrinkle your nose at the familiar scent of burning metal and sweat from his work at the forge. He laughs at your reaction and pulls you closer to him, making sure you don't pull away from him despite everything.
"I know, I need to take a bath. But I hope you will help me?"
"Taking a bath?" You ask suggestively, laughing as he blushes all shyly and looks at you nervously.
"No!" He almost screams and buryes his face in your hair with a groan as you continue to laugh at him. "Taking care of Ulla."
"Always. But first…" you start and reach into his bag. You pick out his sketchbook and run forward, looking for the page he was working on so furiously in the library before you spoke.
“Y/N, no!” Aleksander shouts and runs after you. A few long strides of his, and you’re pinned to the ground by him. You laugh and struggle under him, but your struggle is futile. He quickly rips the sketchbook out of your hands and puts it somewhere safe before he pins your wrists to the ground. "You can't look into it without my permission. It is... personal."
"Sorry, handsome." You say and kiss his blushing cheek. You giggle as he lets go and climbs off of you. Before he can stand up, you snuggle into his back and wrap your arms around him. Your nose brushes his ear as you whisper quietly. "But you're so secretive lately… you know I don't like to not know what's in that pretty little head of yours. If you don't want to talk, then don't, but I just want to know if everything's okay and if there's nothing steaming up under your skull."
"I'm fine… I just... I will tell you in our room in tavern." You nod at his words and grab his hand. He gives you a small smile as you both walk through town, ignoring the looks you get from passersby who witness your little skirmish.
Once you're there, Ulla runs straight to Aleksander, wrapping her little arms tightly around his legs. The little one cries into his pants, sobbing that she thought you had abandoned her. The sight breaks your heart and makes you want to cut Baghra up and roast him into little pieces.
Aleksander abandons his bag and embraces the girl in a tight embrace. He goes to one of the single beds and tries to calm her down, whispering soft words of reassurance into her ear that he will never leave her. You sigh and pick up Aleksander's bag. You put it back on the hanger and briefly consider peeking in.
You abandon the idea and head back to the two of them to join in the group hug. You silently worry about what your "boyfriend" might have come up with. You're afraid it'll be something for your ring finger.
A moment later, as Ulla falls asleep with her head on your lap, Aleksander returns with dinner for the three of you. His sketchbook is tucked under his arm.
"I want to show you something." He whispers and sets the food on the nightstand next to your double bed. He crouches down next to the sinle bed where the two of you are and opens the book. Your heart is beating like crazy, your hands shaking as you take the leather-bound book from him.
"What is this?" You ask, looking closely at the outline of a grand building. It looked almost like a palace.
"I... I know this life isn't one of the best we could have... but it's still one of the best I've ever had. Of course it's all thanks to you and Ulla. I... I have a proposition before me. A very serious one. If I play my cards right, I'd like to build a place for the three of us. And for the other Grisha who are in need of their own safe place. Can you imagine? No more working in some shitty places, no more hiding our identity... it could be really nice, right?"
You sigh, gently placing Ulla's head on the pillow. You take Aleksander's hand and lead him to your bed. You both sit up slowly as you think about everything he's just told you.
"That... would be nice. But... Aleksander, this is a palace. The king would never agree; you know how he feels about us. Tell me you're not getting involved in anything dangerous." You sigh and place your hand on his cheek. He buries his face in your palm and closes his eyes. He wraps his arms around you tightly and presses a kiss to your temple before burying his nose in your hair.
"I'll be fine… but I'm tired of hiding. It's time to come out of the shadows… start using my powers and do something good not only for us, but for the other Grisha. Too many of us have died because of their stupidity."
"And I don't want your name added to that long list. Ulla needs you, and I'd rather have you alive with me, too." You mumble into his neck, holding on to him tighter.
"Is this your way of saying that you love me?" He asks teasingly, drawing patterns on your back with his fingers.
"That's my way of telling you that if you die, I'll find some damn spell or some other way to bring you back to life just so I can skin you for being such an idiot to get yourself killed."You growl quietly so as not to wake up Ulla and pull away from him to look into his eyes. Aleksander swallows, realising how true your words are.
"I'm not leaving you… not on purpose. I will always do everything in my power to come back to you. I promise." He whispers and kisses you sweetly, softly, thus sealing his promise.
You wrap your arms around him and pull him closer to you. You fall onto the mattress on your back with him above you and surrender to the blissful feeling of his arms around you.
You try to enjoy this as long as you can.
Before you know it, you're standing in front of the door to his cell. Sankta Alina and her king Nikolai have taken pity on him enough to set up cells for him in his former general's quarters. Of course, only after they've thoroughly searched the room. Such a petty act of malice.
You take one deep breath and enter the chamber.
It's dark there. Terribly dark. You can barely see your fingers as you close the door behind you. You reach for the crystal in your pocket and pull it out, holding it like a torch. You mutter the appropriate spell under your breath, and suddenly light emanates from the gem. You sigh as you see Aleksander standing just outside the bars, already staring at you intently.
"Aleksander." You whisper, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling you get from looking at the scars on his face and the fact that he hasn't spoken or made a fucking move yet. Not even for an inch. You doubt if he even blinks once since you entered. The son of a bitch was trying to intimidate you and scare you away. "Did they cut out your tongue?" You scoff, walking up to him and giving him an equally crazy, psychopathic look.
"Will you ever learn how to knock?"
"You seem to be very aware of my presence even before I open this door. Unless you have so many guests here that you simply cannot tear yourself away from these bars?"
"Too much lately." He hisses in irritation through clenched teeth, at which you roll your eyes.
"Hmm… good thing I'm not your guest." You say sarcastically and wave your hand, teleporting one of the chairs from his cell/chamber to the other side of the bars. You sit comfortably in front of him with the light-emitting crystals in your lap and just look at him, waiting for him to speak.
"I guess if I don't do this, you'll never get out of here, so there you go. Why are you here?" He asks after a long moment of silence, sighing as he finally gives up.
"I have been given a task by Their Royal Highnesses." You scoff, watching as the frown on his forehead deepens as he ponders the hidden meaning behind your words. "Aren't you curious what it might be?"
"With their brains? No big deal, I suppose." He mocks them and steps away from the bars. He pours himself a glass of whisky and sits down at a table with maps spread out on it. You raise an eyebrow at how... convenient he is. You don't remember the guest room they assigned you having such comforts.
"Yet they have locked you up here… without powers I suppose? I cannot feel your shadows." You see his fingers tighten angrily around the glass. You make a mental note that this is clearly not a pleasant topic for him.
"Still have that pendant?" He asks, nodding at you when he spots your heart-shaped pendant. You tense up and pull your knees to your chest, blocking his view of the necklace.
"Apparently. Would I be here if I didn't have it?" You answer carefully, fully aware of the game you're playing with Aleksander now. Everything you said was meant to hurt the other, to prove that you weren't impressed at all by being in the other's presence again. Even if you both had some... strong feelings at the sight of the other, you wouldn't admit it.
All that mattered now was who would win and hit the hardest, breaking the mask of indifference that you both tried so hard to keep on your faces... although his eyes tell you a little that your presence here isn't so irritating and indifferent to him at all.
"Of course not. After all you don't have a heart of your own."
You smile, trying not to show how his words really affected you. You internally regret that he went from being the person you trusted with all your worries to someone you wouldn't let see even a glimmer of pain in your eyes.
"Ouch. That hurt. And here I tried to be nice and inform you that for now on I am your guard and I oversee your resocialization process."
"I beg you pardon?" He asks in shock as you casually play with the gem in your hands. Aleksander watches closely as the light from it reflects off your fingers, face, chin, cheeks, lips…
"Just like you heard, honey. We'll be spending more time together again, aren't you happy?" You reply with a mocking smile and watch him carefully, gauging how he reacts to this new message.
"Resocialization? Does the fact that I wanted to help Grisha make me some kind of criminal from Ketterdam?"
"Words of Sankta Alina, not mine. Your ex probably doesn't like you very much. And from what I heard, you started destroying villages. You know who used such practices, right?" At the reference to his mother, he becomes even more gloomy. You get the feeling that if he could still control his shadows, he would at that very moment engulf the room in total darkness.
"Alina is not my ex." He merely comments as he adjusts the fastenings of his all-black kefta.
"My bad."
He stares at you for a long moment. You feel your skin burn where his eyes linger a little longer. You take advantage of that time to watch him too, searching for any slight changes in him since you last saw him.
"You, of all people, are supposed to lead me to the good, righteous path? This is ridiculous." You snort, also amused by the absurdity of this situation. Out of the two of you, N had always been the more... righteous one. Ironically, you were the one who was supposed to dig up the last remnants of his morality.
"Well, for some reason they want you alive. And they want you to cooperate. I'm supposed to be… a go-between in all of this mess."
"More like an infernal messenger of the devil." You smile, shaking your head. Aleksander tries to ignore the slight flutter in his heart and the pleasant warmth spreading through him as he witnesses your smile again.
"You always knew how to give me such beautiful compliments."
"They are desperate, aren't they? Destroying the fold didn't help and now they don't know what to do and want my advice? Tell your masters it's too late now." He says, returning to the main topic. He stands up from the war table, and you see him heading deeper into his chambers, probably his bedroom. With a wave of your hand, you close the door in his face before he has a chance to leave the room.
"You know very well that I have no master over me." You tell him, standing up from the chair as he slowly turns to face you.
"You haven't changed a bit, have you Y/N?" He asks, slowly approaching you. You shiver when you hear your name on his tongue. You clench your hands behind you as he slowly approaches you. The tension in the room is immense as you both stand as close to the bars as you can.
"Well, apparently neither do you." You whisper, trying to ignore the way he smelled so wonderful, how in an instant his closeness and the warmth he radiated made you feel at home again. How much you wanted to sink back into his arms and his sheets…
"Why are you here?" He asks, but is met only by your silence and a cold gaze that almost makes him tremble. "Don't you have other things on your mind? You're not going to tell me that this is only for my sake? I know perfectly well that you wouldn't return if I asked you. So why did you listen to my mother and also bring Ulla?"
"You don't know if I would come back. You never asked." You respond, your voice barely above a quiet purr. There’s a long silence after your words. He lifts his hand and wraps his fingers around the bars—dangerously close to your cheek.
"And are you surprised?"
"No. Actually, I am not."
You examine the scars on his face and barely manage to stop yourself from slipping your fingers between the bars and tracing them with your fingertips. Aleksander holds his breath, his lips twitching as he resists any movement under your watchful gaze.
He fights with himself not to reach for you and brush his fingers against your soft, velvety skin, or check that you're actually here in the flesh and not a figment of his imagination. Your sweet scent intoxicates him, reminding him how dangerous you are and that he can't trust you like he did. Which doesn't change the fact that he wants it so much.
"Gently, Ivan." You frown, not understanding what he means.
"What..." You're not allowed to finish. You feel your heartbeat slow down, and you slip into unconsciousness, only noticing the red and black kefta of one of his heartrenders out of the corner of your eye.
Your vision blurs, you slowly fall asleep, and all you can see before you collapse into the heartrender's arms are Aleksander's black eyes.
The son of a bitch ordered one of his men to put you to sleep and carry you out of his cell. Bastard.
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yzzart · 10 months
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okok but what about a fic with coriolanus based off of the unreleased version of national anthem, i want it all by lana del rey??? like she has the same ambitions and drive as him (a little coocoo) and they kind of just manipulate each other, but like they do really love each other yk?? food for thought 😙
"𝐁𝐲𝐞, 𝐛𝐲𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲!"
pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x f!reader.
word count: 674!
summary: if you wanted one thing, Coriolanus would give it to you.
warnings: mention of manipulation, excerpts from "I want it all" by Lana Del Rey, Coriolanus needy and wrapped around reader's finger, reader sitting on Coriolanus' lap.
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The word "frustration" was so mediocre in your tongue that, at times, it burned your with pure bitterness. — With such an immoral meaning, there is no meaning in your life.
And you didn't even have a drop of pleasure in mentioning it in secret, in front of and outside the harsh and venomous gazes of your classmates. — After all, you didn't want them to be able to associate your fascinating image with that word.
Even if, at times, that feeling of relief, tranquility in your life and especially in the financial sense, turned into a knot of frustration, disappointment with factors that didn't go your way. — Taken for days, completely, fragile and indiscreet. — You would never admit or mention it, not even with your dying breath.
However, there was one person among those neat and arrogant vipers who recognized your despair, observed your fragility with his deep and beautiful blue eyes; who paid attention to you, getting to know you. — Silently admiring your steps on clumsy days. — Watching how you manipulated those who had something that marked your interest.
You loved to seduce any look to achieve your greatest desires. — Mainly, the look so full of feelings, displeasures and sensitivities
Coriolanus understood your body language, and was surprised by it; in most times and situations, you didn't even need to say a word, not even release a sigh, because he already had in mind what could have happened. — And that he could use that to his advantage.
But the prodigal boy, so admired and recognized by the university and envied by the majority, had no capacity to involve and blackmail you; no, he couldn't. — And it was an ironic play, because Coriolanus would commit such an action with anyone. — Even if your situation, his life is at a moment of failure and, intensely, unpleasant.
Coriolanus, in his reason for wanting, wanting everything he wanted most in his life, or that could help him or even favor him, he would do anything. — To enjoy his power, to lift his mediocre life from misery and poverty, Coriolanus would do absolutely anything. — Just like you, even in different circumstances.
Like, maybe, he would do anything for you. — And maybe, you would do anything for him and for him. — However, the factors that could benefit you always come first.
"Do you think you'll kill for me one day?" — Your voice, lost, in pure sympathy and your hands passing through some white and curly locks that were stuck on his forehead; a sweet gesture for a slightly inappropriate moment.
Sitting between Coriolanus's thighs, you settled, beautifully, on his lap; as if it were his favorite seat. — The distress, which didn't bother your so much, from his rich-looking fabric pants touched your skin. — You were so relaxed, carefree.
And also wrapping the young boy Snow around your finger, with an invisible string before his eyes.
Coriolanus was stunned, his cheeks red and hot, swallowing hard and trying his best to remain conscious; he was funny so ridiculous. — The one worthy of the surname Snow, the one who had a promising future and drew confident and ambitious comedians, was nothing more than a trembling and needy soul.
He had the answer on the tip of his tongue, between his bright, reddish lips, but he hadn't committed to saying it. — Coriolanus felt his heart beating faster and faster, feeling like it would leave his chest at any moment and he wouldn't even have the ability to control it.
"Yes." — Coriolanus sighed, so breathless and marking his bluish irises and poisoned by attention on your lips and, soon, your eyes. — "Of course i will, my darling."
God, he wasn't lying; Coriolanus would never do such a merciless and deplorable thing against you. — Even in his last circumstances, in his worst second of life. — He felt so pathetic, sensitive but only you could make him feel that way.
Your lips curved into a gratifying smile, feeling satisfied and fortunate, and almost brushed against Coriolanus's. — You always got what you wanted and wanted most.
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phoward89 · 3 months
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Masterlist
Stepcest, Stepson!Coryo x Stepmother!Reader, Sub!Coriolanus, Switch!Reader, Crassus Snow x Younger!Reader
WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Crassus Snow is a cold hearted asshole, but he's a hot asshole... Stepcest, older man/younger woman, arranged marriage, cheating, affairs, secrets, cussing, secret love child, Coryo is a bit selfish and too ambitious, Crassus decides to try and be a better husband/father
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Part 5:
Crassus' secretary was nervous as he wracked his brain for what to tell his boss. Where should he start when it comes to giving the cold, stern, and very imposing man advice about the little things he should do for his wife. Leo doesn't want to overstep. He doesn't know anything about Crassus' marriage to you, so he's afraid to give any advice.
But as Leo felt his boss’ stare pinning him into his desk chair he decides to give the imposing platinum blonde some simple, but vital advice of, “If you really want to make your wife smile then just ask her about her day.”
Crassus nods, only to say, “But I already know how her day is, she takes care of the baby all day.”
“I didn't know that you have a baby, General Snow.”
“Yes.” The stern man with slicked back platinum hair proudly grins. “He's a week old.”
Leo nods, feeling a bit awkward with the conversation he's having with his boss. How is it that Crassus has a week old baby with his wife, but is seeking advice on how to make his wife happy? He made the miracle of life with her, shouldn't he know how to interact with her? Or is it an arranged marriage full of surface level interaction?
Yea, it must be an arrangement lacking social interactions past the expected ones in the marriage bed.
“Well, Sir, I don't want to overstep, but I think that your wife would appreciate you asking about her day with the baby even if you assume you know how it went.” Leo told Crassus, hoping that he wouldn't offend his boss since he really needed his job. He has bills to pay, you know.
“Hmm…” Crassus nods.
“Oh, and don't interrupt her even if what she's talking about sounds mundane and boring. Just nod and wait for an opening to compliment her story with a ‘that’s nice’, or an ‘oh, really’.” Leo adds in, figuring that Crassus seems like the type that needs the reminder.
“And this’ll work, make my wife happy?” Crassus asks, his voice as hard as stone.
“Most women like feeling important and letting them talk about their day uninterrupted does that.” Leo Davis explained what all husbands should know. But, as it turns out, Crassus is the exception to the rule.
“Ah.” The imposing war hero half-nods. “My first wife and I didn't live together for more than a few weeks at a time; I was deployed in 12 as the Commander during that marriage, so I'll take your word for it when it comes to communicating with my current wife.” Crassus remarks before turning his back to his secretary and returning to his office to work on something vital to Panem's national security’s budget proposal that's due to be sent to President Ravenstill for review soon.
Meanwhile, deep in the bowels of Dr. Gaul’s lab that's housed in the Citadel…
Coriolanus followed Dr. Gaul inside of the sterilized white room, bright fluorescent lights revealing that the test subject wasn't a rat or even a new mutt, but a human. A girl to be exact.
The blonde boy's baby blue eyes widened slightly at the girl, who was all skin and bones, that was tied to a metal lab table with 4-point restraints. Looking between the girl and his mentor, Coriolanus curiously asks, “What're we going to do to her?”
“Bibity, bobity, Snow’s first lobotomy.” The mad scientist sing-songed, gesturing towards an instructional guide, a drill, and a tool that looked like an ice pick that was on the surgical tray table by the subject’s mental bed.
Coriolanus was a bit confused. He learned in psychology class that the lobotomy procedure is controversial and banned. “But I thought that medical practice was banned by Panem's founding fathers?” He asks his mentor, wondering why she was going to have him perform it
“Yes, the procedure has been banned on civilized humans, such as the people residing in this very city, but your test subject today is nothing more than a lab rab- a rebellious little girl that was caught rummaging in the woods outside of District 12 like an animal.” Dr. Gaul told Coriolanus while going over to a cabinet on the other side of the room and grabbing a pair of blood red latex gloves for her protege to perform the operation on.
“The sooner you realize that the people of the districts are no better than animals the better equipped at ruling and controlling them you'll be.” The salt and pepper frizzy haired woman told her pupil while walking over to him, red gloves in hand. “I see a greatness in you, Young Snow. A greatness to be even more successful in ruling over others then your father, Crassus.” Dr. Gaul tells Coriolanus while stopping in front of him and handing him over the gloves.
“You think I could be greater than my father?” Coriolanus asks, taking the gloves from his mentor.
“Oh, I know so, Coriolanus Snow. In fact, I believe that you'll make Panem proud with all the wonderful things you're capable of.” Dr. Gaul told Coriolanus, inflating his ego. “I'll be leaving you alone with the test subject to perform the procedure. I’ve left instructions; I'm sure you can handle this on your own.”
“Of course I can, Dr. Gaul.” The ambitious young blonde assured the mad scientist. Even if the thought of performing a lobotomy on a little girl turned his stomach, he'd do it to prove himself to his mentor.
His mentor who thought he'd be a greater man than his father, the war hero General Crassus Snow.
“Make sure to keep your rest subject talking during the procedure; if she stops talking then you either drilled in too far or cut out too much brain matter. But either way, if she's damaged I'll have you dispose of her.” Dr. Gaul told Coriolanus, acting as if she was giving him instructions on how to remove an ingrown toenail, before walking out of the room and leaving her protege alone with the little girl from 12- the poor test subject doomed to be a lab rat because she wasn't viewed as a human in the mad scientist eyes.
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“Please, stop, it hurts! It hurts!” The girl, whose golden pigtails were tangled and matted against the metal examining table, screamed at the top of her lungs as Coriolanus was drilling a hole into her skull.
“Shut up or else I could kill you, fucking animal.” Coriolanus snapped at his test subject while continuing to drill thru her skull.
“The things by my eye and it hurts.” The little girl cried as the drill moved right next to her eyeball, breaking thru the skull bone in her eye socket.
“Damnit, you cry more than my son does and he's a baby.” Coriolanus grumbled as the bit of the drill hit a small piece of the test subject’s brain while breaking all the way thru her skull.
Meanwhile on the Corso in the Snow family 12th floor penthouse…
You're sitting in the main room of your penthouse, watching Grandma'am rocking Cassian in her arms while cooing at the baby. The sight of your mother-in-law holding your son puts a smile on your melancholy face. It made you feel like you weren't alone in taking care of your baby; made you realize that you had support during your motherhood journey.
“I’m glad that you're a hands-on grandmother, Grandma'am.” You honestly tell the old woman as your son's icy blue eyes start to flutter heavily from being rocked.
“Oh, my sweet dear, I must admit that I'm happy to have a new baby in the house to breathe fresh life into it.” Grandma'am told you while gesturing that she wanted to pass the baby back to you. Since you're sitting next to each other on the sofa, it'll be easy to take the baby back from her. As you extend your arms for your mother-in-law to place the baby into, she tells you, “Cassian Xandros is just what you and Crassus’ marriage needs to grow and evolve into something more than a surface level bond.”
Cassian blinks his icy eyes at you and smiles before closing them. Your son reminds you so much of his father; your lover- Coriolanus. You can't help, but feel a hollow feeling inside of your soul as you think about how Coriolanus seems too worried about himself then you and the baby. That his studies and internship seem to mean more to him than the family he created with you.
A family he begged you to have.
Honestly, you and Crassus never discussed the possibility of having children. You got married shortly after graduating the Academy and he usually pulled out whenever he did fuck you. And since the subject of children never came up, you just assumed that your marriage would be childless. You even told Coryo that once or twice, which is why he was so desperate to give you a baby. Coriolanus wanted to give you something he knew that only he could give; something to tie you and him together forever.
But now that you're home with Grandma'am and the baby all day with a lack of support from both your husband and your lover, well…
Let's just say that you'll be talking to your doctor about birth control options during your 6-weeks postpartum check up.
“I don't think Cassian's going to fix my loveless marriage with your son." You bluntly tell your mother-in-law while gently rocking your son in your arms. “I doubt he truly even wanted to become a father again either.”
“Oh, Y/N, don't say that.” Grandma'am firmly tells you. “Crassus comes across as if he doesn't care, but he does. He's just a stern man, my dear.” She assures you while patting your shoulder in a motherly fashion.
“He threatened to get rid of Cassian if he was born a girl instead of a boy, Grandma'am.” You remind the old woman, who's bejeweled turbin shines like a disco ball in the bright light of the sun. “Cassian’s just a spare male heir for Crassus, nothing more and nothing less.”
And now you wonder if Coriolanus even loves your son. He rarely spends time with your baby, always using his studies as an excuse not to help with diaper changes or settling the baby down. Hell, it seems like Coryo spends more time at the University’s library than he does in Cassian's nursery.
“Y/N, dear, you have to understand that Crassus' first wife, Demeter, died in premature labor brought on by the first rebel bombings. That along with Demeter, their daughter Calla was too tiny to survive and died less than an hour after being born.”
“I'm not Demeter and my baby's not hers either, Grandma'am. I think Crassus is smart enough to know that considering he works for the Ministry of War as the Minister of National Security.” You state with a slight edge to your voice. Rising from the sofa, you announce, “I'm going to put him down; then I'll make some cucumber sandwiches for our tea time.”
“Despite looking like your mother you act awfully a lot like your father, so I hope you won't write off my son because he thinks he doesn't deserve an ounce of happiness in his life due to his previous failures.” Grandma'am tells you as you begin to walk away from the sofa and towards the hallway.
You don't respond to her, just keep walking away. Honestly, you don't want to think about let alone talk about her last words to you. You can't because they give a plausible reason for your husband's cold and indifferent attitude.
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Crassus walks inside of his penthouse determined to put the advice Leo gave him to good use. He even came home at a decent hour instead of right when dinner’s being served. The sound of your husband's loafers echoing on the marble floor makes you furrow your brow. Crassus never comes home before 7 and it's nearly 6:30, so you're a bit startled.
You're watching your son as he sits in his swing when your husband comes in, briefcase clutched in his hand. But, instead of taking his briefcase to his office he places it on the glass coffee table and takes a seat on his sitting chair, which is caddy cornered to the sofa you're on. The stoic platinum blonde looks around, only to ask, “Where's mother and Coriolanus?”
“Grandma'am's visiting Pluribus; I'm sure she'll be home within the next 15 minutes.” You tell Crassus, earning a nod from him. “And Coriolanus never came home, so I assume he's in the University library burning the midnight oil in preparation for his upcoming finals.” You add in, since he did inquire about his firstborn son after all.
“I imagine once he graduates and officially becomes an Assistant Gamemaker under Dr. Gaul that he'll be keeping odd hours since the scientist practically lives in her lab.” Crassus knowingly remarks. But before you could make a reply, he gives you a thin smile and asks, “So, Petal, how was your day?”
What? Did he just ask you how your day was? What's wrong with him? He never asks you that? In fact he rarely talks to you at all if it isn't about something mundane, something that needs discussing.
“Um, I talked to Grandma’am and tended to the baby.” You tentatively answer your husband. In a way, you think it's a trick and Crassus is just going to chuckle and leave the room. It's not like he sits around chatting with you, far from it.
‘What did you and Grandma'am talk about?” Crassus pries, hoping that you'll smile or something if you relay to him what you and his mother spoke about.
But you just wave him off with a simple, “Ladies things, nothing you need to worry about.”
And then Crassus remembers that a mother's joy is her child, so he asks, “Well, how was our son today?”
“Oh, Cassian’s been good today.” You answer with a smile. A smile that your cold, unfeeling husband can't help, but wants to see permanently painted on your face. “But he's always a good baby.”
The fact that your husband was now showing an interest in your week old son had your head spinning. You're taken aback that he seems concerned about Cassian. You thought that the baby was just a spare heir to Crassus, so him asking about the baby made you wonder what was up with him. Did he suddenly decide to step up as a father or did he get abducted by aliens?
You hope it's the former. You really do. “Do you want to hold him?” You ask Crassus before you can think better of it.
“I'll get him from the swing, just sit down and tell me about what you and our boy got up to today.” Crassus told you, rising to his feet.
Watching him walk the few yards to collect your son from his baby swing, you begin to tell your husband about your day with the baby. Albeit, you think you'll probably bore him out of his mind, but you tell him anyway.
And a few minutes later when Grandma'am comes home from visiting Pluribus, she sees Crassus sitting on his sitting chair, cradling Cassian while you're telling your husband about being peed on while changing a shitty diaper. Crassus was laughing, causing you to tell him that it wasn't funny before bursting into a giggle fit of your own.
And the sight made Grandma'am hopeful that you and her son would work things out. She doesn't interrupt the family moment, instead she goes to the kitchen to inquire about dinner from the cook.
But your family moment with Crassus and Cassian does get interrupted by Coriolanus when he storms into the main room. He's got a hauntes look in his icy eyes as he scoffs, “Oh, father, I see you're acting like you suddenly care about mommy and the baby. How nice of you to act like a family man for once.”
“Coriolanus, unless you want me to cut off your allowance I advise you to watch your tongue.” Crassus scolds his firstborn, his icy eyes narrowed in warning.
“Dinner should be ready soon, I better put Cassian down.” You announce, cutting the tension in the air like a knife, as you bolt up from the sofa and rush over to Crassus.
“Mommy, can I see him before you put him down?” Coriolanus asks, watching as his father hands his son over to you.
“If you wanted to see him then you shouldn't have spent the entire afternoon in the library. It's dinner time; he needs a nap.” You tell Coryo before walking by him and going to the nursery.
“That’s not fair, Y/N-” Coriolanus begins to shout while starting to follow you, only to be cut off by Crassus jumping up to his feet and stopping him with a firm hand around his arm and the order of, “Leave my wife alone, Coriolanus. If you want to see your brother so badly then see him after dinner.”
Coriolanus yanks his arm out of his father's hold, only to give him a pissy look and storm off towards the dining room. The younger Snow thinks it's ridiculous how he has to bow down to his father when it comes to you and the baby. He hates how he has to watch his family be claimed by his father, who in his opinion doesn't deserve you or the baby.
Coriolanus swears that once he becomes successful he's going to take you and the baby away from his father. In fact, the young man with the light blonde curls is certain that he'll be successful sooner rather than later given how well his first lab experiment went. He successfully did the procedure without any harm to the lab rat and since he did so well, Dr. Gaul has agreed to let him monitor the vitals on it; to conduct more experiments as well.
As long as he keeps impressing the mad scientist and soaking in her beliefs like a sponge he's certain that he'll become a bigger success than his father. That he'll have the power to make you his and to claim your son as his.
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Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @princess-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress @nayveetbhh
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skywalker1dream · 4 months
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Obsession in Overdrive
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Jenson Button x journalist!reader
note: so I was writing part 2 of web of obsession and I accidentally deleted it, I really don't know how I did it (I want to bang my head to something like dobby banged his head with lamp)
Summary:You are a dedicated and ambitious journalist covering the world of Formula 1. Your latest assignment brings you face-to-face with Jenson Button, a charismatic and skilled driver. However, beneath his charming exterior lies a dark and obsessive personality. As Jenson becomes fixated on you, what starts as innocent professional admiration quickly spirals into a dangerous obsession, leading you into a web of passion, control, and peril. (you will find out that in part two)
Warnings: Im not good with warnings T_T sorry....
--
The roar of engines and the scent of burning rubber filled the air, the unmistakable ambiance of a Grand Prix weekend. You adjusted your press pass, the laminated card dangling from a lanyard around your neck. This assignment was a dream come true covering the world of Formula 1, where speed and glamour intertwined.
The paddock was alive with activity. Engineers tweaked car settings, team members rushed about with tools and equipment, and the drivers, the stars of this high-octane circus, moved with an air of focused determination. You had been following the sport for years, but being here, amidst the chaos and excitement, was a different experience altogether.
You were here for one reason: an exclusive interview with Jenson Button, the seasoned driver known not just for his skill on the track, but for his charm and charisma off it. He was a favorite among fans and media alike, and getting time with him was a coup for any journalist.
You arrived at the McLaren team’s hospitality suite, a sleek and modern area buzzing with activity. The room was filled with a mix of team personnel, sponsors, and a few journalists, all engaged in animated conversation. The decor was elegant but functional, with the team’s colors prominently displayed.
You spotted Jenson almost immediately. He was deep in conversation with a team engineer, but as soon as he saw you, his face lit up with a smile. He excused himself and walked over, his stride confident and relaxed.
“Ah, you must be [your name]” he greeted, extending a hand. His grip was firm yet gentle, his touch lingering a fraction longer than necessary.
“Yes, thank you for taking the time to speak with me,” you replied, trying to maintain your professional demeanor despite the fluttering in your stomach. He was even more handsome in person, his blue eyes sparkling with a mix of intelligence and mischief.
“Anything for a lovely journalist,” he said, his tone smooth as silk. “Shall we?”
He led you to a quieter corner of the suite, where a small table and two chairs had been set up for the interview. As you settled into your seat, you couldn’t help but notice how his presence seemed to command the space around him. He was effortlessly charming, his smile warm and inviting.
The interview began with the usual pleasantries. Jenson answered your questions with ease, his responses peppered with humor and insight. He spoke about his passion for racing, the challenges of the season, and his hopes for the future. His answers were thoughtful and articulate, revealing a depth of character that went beyond his public persona.
Yet, as the conversation progressed, you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze lingered on you, as if he were trying to memorize every detail of your face. His eyes would occasionally flicker down to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
You shifted in your seat, trying to maintain your composure. This was just another interview, you told yourself, albeit with one of the most charming men you’d ever met. But there was something about the way he looked at you that made your pulse quicken.
“So, [your name],” Jenson said, leaning forward slightly, “what got you into journalism? And more specifically, why Formula 1?”
You smiled, appreciating his genuine interest. “I’ve always loved writing, and I’ve been a fan of motorsports since I was a kid. There’s something about the combination of speed, skill, and strategy that fascinates me. Plus, the stories behind the drivers and teams are incredibly compelling.”
Jenson nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “It’s true, there’s a lot more to this sport than just racing. The dedication, the sacrifices... it’s a whole world unto itself.”
You continued talking, sharing stories and laughing together. Despite the professional nature of the interview, it felt more like a conversation between friends. Jenson had a way of making you feel at ease, his genuine interest and warm demeanor drawing you in.
As the interview came to an end, you thanked Jenson and began to gather your things. “This was great, Jenson. Thank you so much for your time.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” he replied, standing up and extending his hand once more. “I hope we get to do this again soon.”
His hand was warm around yours, and as he held your gaze, you couldn’t help but feel a spark of something more than professional admiration. You quickly pushed the thought aside, reminding yourself of your role and responsibilities.
“Take care, love,” Jenson said, his smile lingering as he watched you leave.
As you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that your encounter with Jenson Button was just the beginning of something much more complex and intense than a simple interview.
------------------
Later that evening, you returned to your hotel room, still buzzing from the excitement of the day. You had a lot of work to do transcribing the interview, writing up your notes, and preparing your article. But before you could get started, a knock at the door interrupted your thoughts.
You opened it to find a hotel staff member holding a small, beautifully wrapped box. “Miss [your name] this was left for you at the front desk.”
Surprised, you took the box and thanked him. As you closed the door, curiosity got the better of you. You carefully unwrapped the package, revealing a delicate silver bracelet with a charm in the shape of a racing car. It was exquisite, and clearly expensive.
There was a card inside, written in elegant script: “A token of appreciation. – Jenson.”
Your heart skipped a beat. It was a thoughtful gift, but also oddly personal for someone you’d just met. You slipped the bracelet onto your wrist, admiring how it caught the light. It was beautiful, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it meant something more.
Pushing aside your unease, you sat down at your laptop and began to write. Yet, as you worked, your thoughts kept drifting back toJenson his smile, his charm, and the intensity in his eyes. This was supposed to be just another assignment, but you had a feeling that it was going to be anything but ordinary.
----------------
Over the next few weeks, you found yourself running into Jenson more frequently. At first, it seemed like coincidence, he’d be at the coffee shop you frequented, or passing by the media center just as you were leaving. Each time, he’d greet you warmly, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.
“You again,” you joked one afternoon, unable to hide your smile. “Are you following me, Mr. Button?”
He chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Just lucky, I guess. Besides, I enjoy our little chats.”
His attention was flattering, and you couldn’t deny the growing attraction. Yet, beneath the surface, there was something unsettling about his constant presence. It was as if he always knew where you’d be.
One evening, as you left the paddock, you found Jenson waiting by your car. “Let me take you to dinner,” he offered, his tone more commanding than requesting.
“I appreciate the offer, but I have a lot of work to do,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.
His smile faltered, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. “Another time then,” he said, but his tone suggested it wasn’t really a question.
_______
The next morning, you received a text from an unknown number: Good morning, [your name]. Hope you have a great day. – Jenson. (-sent from my iphoen) (iykyk)
You stared at the message, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. You hadn’t given him your number, which meant he must have gone out of his way to get it. Part of you was flattered by his persistence, but another part couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort.
As the days passed, Jenson’s presence in your life grew. He sent you flowers, left small gifts at your hotel, and always seemed to be around. It was becoming harder to focus on your work with him constantly on your mind.
During a press conference, you caught Jenson’s eye from across the room. He was surrounded by reporters, but his gaze was fixed on you. He smiled, a knowing look in his eyes that made your heart race. After the conference, he made his way over to you.
“Can I steal you away for a bit?” he asked, his voice low and intimate.
You hesitated, glancing around at your colleagues who were busy typing up their notes. “I really should finish my article.”
“It’ll only take a minute,” he promised, his hand gently guiding you towards a more secluded area. “I wanted to give you something.”
From his pocket, he pulled out a small, wrapped box. “Another gift?” you asked, your voice tinged with both curiosity and caution.
“Just a little something to remind you of me,” he said with a smile.
You unwrapped the box to find a delicate necklace with a pendant shaped like a steering wheel. It was beautiful, but the personal nature of the gift sent a shiver down your spine.
“Jenson, this is lovely, but you really don’t have to keep giving me things,” you said, trying to sound gracious.
“I want to,” he insisted, his eyes intense. “You’re special, love. I feel a connection with you.”
His words made your heart flutter, but also triggered a warning bell in your mind. “Thank you, Jenson. I appreciate it, really. But I.....I have to get back to work now.”
He nodded, but the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t giving up. As you walked away, you felt his gaze lingering on you, a constant, almost tangible presence.
---------------
Later that week, you were sitting in your hotel room, working on your latest article, when your phone buzzed. It was a call from Jenson. You hesitated for a moment before answering.
“Hello?”
“[your name], I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, his voice smooth and reassuring.
“Not at all. What’s up?”
“I was thinking we could have dinner tonight. There’s a great restaurant not far from your hotel.”
You bit your lip, considering his offer. Part of you wanted to say yes, to enjoy an evening with this captivating man. But another part of you was wary of how quickly things were progressing.
“I don’t know, Jenson. I have a lot of work to do.”
“Come on, just one dinner,” he coaxed. “You have to eat, right? Consider it a break.”
His persistence was hard to resist, and before you knew it, you found yourself agreeing. “Okay, fine. One dinner.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, a note of triumph in his voice.
That evening, Jenson arrived at your hotel right on time. He looked impeccable, dressed in a tailored suit that accentuated his athletic build. As you walked to the restaurant, he kept the conversation light and engaging, his charm easing some of your apprehension.
The restaurant was elegant and intimate, with soft lighting and a view of the city skyline. Jenson had reserved a private table, away from prying eyes. As you sat down, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness.
Throughout dinner, Jenson was the perfect gentleman. He listened attentively as you talked about your career and passions, sharing stories from his own life that made you laugh and feel at ease. Yet, beneath his charm, there was an intensity in his gaze that made your heart race.
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iouinotes · 9 months
Text
Good gone bad | Coriolanus Snow (part one)
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pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x female!reader
movie: Hunger Games: The ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
warnings: dark!character, smut
word count: 3,8k
summary: You are childhood friends and very close with him. When his behaviour starts to change for the worse, you try your best to hold on to his real-self.
a/n: I adored Snow the first half an hour, because he was a gentleman and cared so much! Then his character became dark, obsessive and murderous and it really was a game changer...but I definitely want to read the book, so I can describe his character in my following stories better!
part 2 here , part three
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"I will call my new discovery just like you, Mr. Snow. The best student and the future of this world. No one will stand in your way, when the blizzard blows over the people. And because it will work so well for your little infatuation, it will function for every other naive creature too."
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
"Coryo!" I shot his name across the hallway, when I see his blonde locks, ignoring the looks from my classmates around me. At the sound of my voice, his head turns in my direction and I run faster towards his figure. As soon as I catch up with him, I meet his curious eyes and look further down to his smiling lips.
"Good morning to you too. Let me guess, you have something really important to announce or are just very happy to see me." Holding the door open for me, I try to catch my breath, wanting to ignore the lovely tone of his voice and the way he looks so outstanding beautiful.
"Well, both, but I heard some gossip about the upcoming ceremony tomorrow. Details who is gonna get the scholarship." Now, while entering the room, I have his full attention.
When I heard about the changes, that were made I immediately searched for him, clearly knowing how much he was ready to sacrifice for this academic possibility.
As he stops walking and places his hands on my shoulders, stopping me in my foodsteps and searching my gaze, I feel my pounding heart.
God forbid this man to look at me this way.
As I try to avoid his intense glare, his hands gently move to my cheeks to focus my eyes on him. I feel myself blushing, fiddling with the rings, that are attached to my fingers.
"No time for jokes, please. What do you know?" I clear my voice, trying to ignore our close gap or the way his curls lay on his forehead and how his skin shines beautifully in the light- No, wait. Not good. We're just friends. I don´t like him that way. Nope.
"I- uh, so please don´t freak out on me, but rumor says it's not up to the student with the best grades to get the scholarship..." I watch his posture straighten, see the how his facial expression turns blank and the irritated change in his mood. And I promise you, it´s not good.
When he lets go of me to strike forward, I try to hold him back. "Wait- you are angry and disappointed, so talk to me first before you let your emotions out on the others, okay?" I catch his left hand and hear his upset breathing.
"It's just- you know, more than anyone, that I deserve this scholarship the most! And now the only possibility to help my family and to become successful are at risks, because someone decided to change the rules? God, I worked my ass off to be the one they choose and now I'll probably get laughed at, cause I didnt get it!" I nod, trying to calm him down by listening to his outburst.
"You do deserve it, I know that. But you still have the chance to stand out more than the others. You are intelligent and brave, very ambitious and you care a lot. Not only for your family and friends, but for everyone. You are the best candidate and if they don´t choose you, then it is the wrong decision. Because they need someone like you. Just like I need you, believe me." I hold his hand close to my heart, trying to convince him of his abilities and his good heart, to show him that he deserves every recognition he gets.
And it works, because he relaxes slightly and after another second passes, I feel myself being embraced in a tight hug. His hand holds the back of my head and I hear his quiet "thank you".
"Always, blue. I am here for you." His lips linger for a second on my forehead, the kiss leaves me feeling warm and in love.
Even if I try to deny it.
"It's been a while, since you called me that nickname." I look in his eyes, when he pulls back. Admiring the shining blue that follows my dreams.
I only smile at him, shrugging when we have a normal distance between us, that helps me to concentrate again.
"It slipped out, I guess. But you are right, the last time I called you that, we were in primary school. How fast the time goes." Nodding we gently smile at each other and I clear my throat, when I get more and more enchanted to him.
We have known each other for so long, but nothing has changed about us.
Expect my feelings for him. They seem to never go away.
So, when I step forward and his eyes follow me, I start to walk to class again.
"Come on, we're being late. The greatest student of all time does not come late." He shakes his head, smiling at me and when I feel for a moment that something is different between us, I brush it off.
When he's finally catching up with me, I order my thoughts.
Don't fall in love with him.
Pretend, you didnt fall in love with him.
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
I am good at pretending, really. It normally helps me to focus on the important things in my life, for example school, my grades, studying and getting accepted by a college. Did I mention, my academic success needs to be excellent?
But now, the only thing I can concentrate on is him. And I can hardly pretend, not for much longer, that I am not in love with him.
Because his life is in danger, now that the Hunger Games have started and he is the mentor of the tribute of district 12, a girl named Lucy Gray, everything is different.
He is different.
I know him long enough, that I see how much he cares for her. And because I'm good at pretending, I can see right through his actions.
He maybe likes the girl, but even though he tries to hide it, he cares more that he is the victor in the end.
And that is something that I find quite odd. I mean, he always wants to win, wants to be the best and on top or ahead of everyone. But he was always fair, human and supportive.
But his behavior changed as the days passed. Of course, it's obvious that the violence and torment that the game brings with changes you. More for the worse, than the better.
But it's not only the pressure he is under or the tension that he feels, because he needs the girl to win. It's something different and I notice that none of this is doing him any good. Especially for his heart.
Because he is being distant, he talks less, smiles less, is acting like a person I don´t even know anymore.
And it scares me, it hurts to see him losing himself in the process of being successful.
The last time we talked, he said something to me that left me awake all night, thinking about the decisions and sacrifices he has to make to achieve his goal.
He said: "I will become president and when I am on top, the world will be as cold as the snow in the winter. Nobody will oppose me."
It scared me. He scared me.
And maybe it was the change of his behavior or the cold look in his eyes, with which he looked at everyone or maybe it was because I started to fear him, that I distanced myself from him.
And even though I thought, he wouldnt notice, he did.
And it made everything complicated.
He tried to approach me, talking and joking like we always did, but it wasnt the same. Because he wasnt the same. Even though the color of his eyes was still as bright as the sun, the way he looked at me hid something that was as dark as the night.
I didnt know how I felt anymore.
Because when fear is equal to love, do I fear him then?
I guess I did and it made me sick in the stomach. He lied, he betrayed, he murdered, he did things, I would hate anyone for.
He did things for that I started to hate myself, because I couldnt hate him. Not when he really was the victim in this cruel world, even when he presented himself as the victor.
But for me, he didnt win. Because he rather lost something.
My trust for him.
And that made him angry, so much that he started to manipulate his way into my life again, when I decided that I didn't want anything to do with him anymore.
At first it would be small things. He continued opening the door for me, even though I didnt walk to class with him anymore.
He always saved me a seat next to him, although I decided to sit somewhere else. Then he started bribing the teachers, so that I had to do my assignments with him, he started showing up by almost every place I would go to.
He would give me roses that I wouldn't accept or visited me at work, always with a smile on his face. But I could tell it wasn't real.
He wasn't his real-self after all. He pretended to be someone else and I couldnt trust this new version of him.
He cut his hair short, nowadays wears expensive and neat clothes, always speaks in a formal voice and does polite gestures.
Small smiles, fake laughs, adoring looks which he uses to hide his real intentions behind a facade.
He enchanted the whole world.
But his magic didn't work on me and he became more and more aware of it as the days went by and I continued to ignore him.
And then, on one evening he visited my dorm and before I could close the door, he stood in my apartment and said something, I will forever keep in mind. His presence began to feel like a short movie, captivating me with each encounter.
"I know that you don't like the way things are now. But I am doing this to maintain peace, to keep the people in the place they belong. And I want you to know, that you just need to understand my actions and start to trust me again."
As he spoke, he started to walk towards me, looking me in the eyes, trying to convince me. I had no way out, all I could do was to back up until I hit the wall and he was standing right in front of me. Starring at me, like I needed to be on his side.
I tried to avoid his gaze and the deep blue that somehow always successfully convinced me. Until now.
"Please look at me, I´m telling you the truth. You know me, I´m still the same guy. Why don´t you believe me?" His hands brush my cheeks, roughly holding my face in his hands to keep my eyes on him.
It wasnt new to me that he loved to manipulate. I overheard some of his lies, the hidden betrayal of his own best friend and I couldnt be sure, that he wouldnt do the same to me too.
The only thing I knew was that his striving for power was taking over his being and I seemed powerless to do anything against it.
"I can´t trust you anymore, Coryo. You are acting different and all the things you did-" his face gets closer to me and my heartbeat becomes faster the less distance there is between our faces.
I can´t deny it.
He looks so beautiful.
Even though I want to talk, he leaves me speechless. As if the cold blue of his eyes froze me into a stature, that can only listen to him.
"Everything I did was for you. I know you love me, always have and always will. But you don't admit it to yourself, you don't want to admit it. I know how you feel for me, sweetheart and you have no reason to stop loving me now."
His words are like magic, his eyes like a hallucination, that everything is fine. His hands so warm and familiar that it's hard for me to remember the bad things he did.
That he's trying so hard to make me forget about.
His fingers move around my neck, his body comes closer to me until we touch, until I can only see him and only he matters.
His face is so close to mine and my eyes flutter - out of fear or anticipation, I don´t really know - until I feel his breathing on my ear.
"If you just let me make you remember the old time. Everything we did, the fun we had, how much we trusted each other. How much I still care and appreciate you. Stop thinking and let yourself feel."
His lips touch my skin and I have to suppress a whimper. I can breathe in his scent, his hands around me confuse my thoughts. My dreams from back then, imagining being able to have him, love him and touch him - they make me insecure about my decisions.
I wanted him for such a long time, that it now seems impossible for me to actually call him mine.
But coming to my senses, realising he is no longer the sweet gentleman I fell in love with, I want to stop him, by holding my hands out to push him back. However his hands react quickly and enclose mine with a firm grip to press them against the wall.
"No, listen to me. I never told you, but I heard you dreaming about me once. You whispered my name, like your heart longed for me, in a way you would never be able to truly understand your feelings for me. Like I am the god you pray for and I promise you, if you would just let me, I would fulfill your every wish. Because, together, you and me, we can become holy in our own, untouchable way. "
When I try to shake my head, his hands change so that one of them is holding both of my hands and the other one is grabbing my face.
"Don´t fight against me, darling. It wont work. You know it, I always win."
And as his hands hold my chin and I can hear my loud heartbeat, his lips meet mine in a wild kiss, clearly showing me the control he has over me.
And it's addicting, but so so dangerous.
His lips are soft against my own and he roughly kisses me, like he's the devil trying to steal my soul.
His body feels warm against my own and I'm weak for a moment, gently kissing him back, enjoying the way he smiles at my reaction.
His kisses becomes more heated, his hands are roaming over my nightgown and his fingers caress the exposed skin. Everything feels too good to be true.
But I can´t let myself enjoy this, I need to focus.
"No- Coryo. We cant-" I try to studder, breaking the kiss and hating the way he makes me feel. Because I feel so good, like only he can make me feel this way.
When I interrupt our kiss and while I try to assert myself against him, I notice his anger becoming more and more obvious.
"What I do is only to make you happy, why dont you understand? I want to see you happy and because of that, I have to do certain things. Just like now." His intense gaze is focused on me.
Without being able to do anything, I suddenly feel a liquid on my skin, that first makes me shiver because of the cold, but in the next second, I feel as hot as if I was standing in the desert and would be dying of thirst.
His touch begins to feel like the only solution and I want more. So, I lean into his touch and literally melt against his body as his lips brush mine.
"Fascinating, as Dr. Gaul said. It becomes one with the skin and intoxicates the senses." He whispers, but I can't figure out what he means by that. The only thing I can concentrate on is him. Why was I here again?
"You need me. You said it yourself, I'm here to remind you." His voice is quiet and I feel my thoughts dissolving. Only the sight of him remains in my head.
His look, those beautiful blue eyes, they distract me and I can´t ignore the desire that his lips are about to meet mine again. We're just centimeters apart and even if I try to stop it, my emotions change. I stop thinking about all the things he did.
Instead, all I can think about is his touch, his lips. And now that I know the ghost of his touch, I wouldn't want anything else.
So, I lean myself forward and kiss him.
It feels like my insides burns with desire, something that is so indescribable, that I don't even know, if I'm capable of feeling this love for too long.
My hands move to his shoulders and to his head, but my control is quickly suppressed as he pushes me back against the wall. So that I almost can't move.
His fingers lift my chin up, I see him grinning smugly at me in triumph.
"Good girl, you only need to listen to me. No one else." And I want to believe him so much, that I suddenly want to forget my doubts.
So, I let him make me forget. His hands roam my body, freeing me from my clothes and holding me where he wants me.
And I let him because I remember that I always wanted him to have his way with me. And when I look at his face, I no longer differentiate. For me, only my Coryo exists.
I close my eyes and lose myself in these sensations, the heat of his words and his actions.
His lips are soft, his kisses leave me with an unknown want and I can't do anything other than just take everything he gives me.
When he strips me out of my pants and unbottons my blouse, he lifts me up against the wall. His hips are pressed against my waist and his kisses travel from my lips down to my chest.
"Everything I do is for you." His words sound familiar.
"You will never doubt me again, I promise you. I'll make sure of that. From now on, you will feel this good forever. Because of me, you hear me? Only because of me, always me." His words cover me like a veil, but I'm unable to process them. My head is so empty and just like he said, I only feel.
I've never not thought about nothing and even if it should unnerve me, I can't even remember to be bothered about it.
As my hands try to move further down to his back and my nails leave marks on his back, his hand squeezes my neck like a warning.
"I am in control, you do as I say. Now take off my pants, so I can fuck you until you believe in me again." I can't think straight, when his hands are undressing me, cupping my breasts and turning me on in a way, I only want to be here with him.
As soon as my hands undress him and his pants are pulled down, he tears my panties apart, meeting my lips in a wanting kiss.
I feel one of his fingers slipping through my wet folds, pumping roughly two fingers inside me. My mouth opens and moans escape me, while I hold myself onto his shoulders.
"You needed to play hard to get, huh? Look who is at my mercy now." My body is still pressed against the wall and as my eyes close on their own, I suddenly feel his tip at my entrance.
And when I want to protest, he places his hand on my mouth to keep me quiet.
"No talking back to me. If you don't listen, I will make you." He pushes himself into me and I feel every vein as his hands direct mine against the wall behind me.
When he starts fucking me, I'm sure I'll pass out.
"C-cant take- too big, please" I dont even know how to speak properly anymore. His hands hold me tight and his thrusts are so brutal, that I barely have enough concentration to breathe.
"What did you say? You want to please me? Then shut your mouth and let me use you." With every harsh thrust, I feel my muscles become more and more relaxed and only he is holding me up now. I can't concentrate on anything else other than him inside me.
My thoughts begin to only focus on being good for him.
I feel like my soul is leaving my body. All I can hear is the dull clapping of our bodies, my loud moans and his heavy breathing.
As he buries his head in the crook of my neck, I softly whimper his name.
I feel how he tenses, when he react to me calling his nickname. His eyes shift to me and suddenly he lets go of my arms and I put them around his shoulders without hesitation. The position now is much more intimate and I scratch his back as his thrusts become even deeper and harder.
I hear his heavy breathing and feel his arms wrap around mine too.
"Tell me you want me." His voice is menacingly quiet. When I don't answer, too focused on his hips thrusting into me, he lets go of the wall and lays me on my bed.
"Fine, I will make you say it then." He sits down and pulls me onto his lap with my back to him, sliding his cock into me again. I moan so loudly, that I notice him grinning contentedly against my shoulder.
"You like that? Good, everyone will know how me you like me, when I'm done with you." His hand directs me so his chest touches my back and one of his hands moves to wrap around my neck.
"You will get used to doing what I want and you will do it, because you want to. You hear me? You won't stay away from me anymore, you belong to me. Everything you do is for me and only me." My thoughts are so confused, I can't think straight anymore. All I know is that I have never felt so good and that he is the reason for my pleasure.
"But I fucked you dumb so it seems. Pretty, little thing. You are like my personal doll, that I can use as I please. This turns me on even more than I would have thought." He pushes me further down on him, making me bounce until that one special spot in me is abused over and over again. And all I can utter are useless words and loud moans.
"B-blue" I hear him chuckle darkly in response.
I'm no longer certain, that I'm even laying in the arms of the person I once loved so much.
"You should have let me fucked you much sooner. It would have destroyed any resistance you had towards me. Just like now and just like I wanted." His voice whispers in my ear and my head leans against his shoulders, my mouth opens and I feel every inch of him inside me.
His hand strokes the skin, where my heart lays and I feel his lips brush against my ear.
"If this heart ever beats for anyone else other than me, everyone in this world will die and I won't be afraid to tell you that it is entirely your fault."
I collapse in his arms, when I come, going completely limp and vulnerable, unable to move. This time I only seem to be physically present.
His arms wrap around me and he let me sink onto him again, then I hear his voice whispering promises into the dark room.
"You cant ever escape me. I will always find you and I will always get you."
252 notes · View notes
callmegkiddo · 10 months
Note
Can you do a Bayverse of the Transformers reacting to their S/O being flexible and able to pop their bones and bend their back to an unhuman position while standing? I’m like this and I want to see their reaction
Optimus Prime: The noble Autobot leader would look at you with concern first and then with curiosity. "Are you certain that's comfortable? I was not aware that human anatomy could achieve such positions." He'd be careful, though; he's aware humans are still resilient, but around bots like him, please be careful. You want to avoid giving the Prime a spark attack.
Bumblebee: The young bot would probably be fascinated and impressed. He might try to imitate some of your movements, though his frame doesn't allow the same flexibility. "Whoa-- Incredible--! Can you-- teach me-- how to do that?" He'll be super excited to learn but will grow concerned if he hears any of your joints pop. Little bee boy loves his human, okay?
Ironhide: The tough weapons specialist might raise an optic ridge and give a gruff chuckle, amused and impressed with your talent. "Well, I'll be. You, humans, are real helm-turners... Just be careful not to break anything, alright?" He'll drag you Ratchet if he hears a single POP from your bones or joints. No exceptions. He's a rugged bot who still views humans as fragile unless they're soldiers like Lennox.
Ratchet: The Autobot medic would be unamused at first, intrigued sure, humans and their biology and abilities never cease to surprise him. But he'll also get pretty concerned for your well-being. "That can't be good for your joints. Be careful, if you feel any discomfort, let me know. I can't fix a broken human, you know." He's dragging you to Sims for 'repairs' if you sprain something. You are scaring this old bot.
Megatron: The dark leader would likely be more intrigued than concerned. "Fascinating. Your species is more adaptable than I thought. Perhaps there are some useful applications for such flexibility." With your smaller size and flexibility, he'll use you as his little scout. To him, the possibilities are endless when spying on the Autobots. But unfortunately, your safety is also a concern to him. So he has Soundwave send Ravage from time to time to accompany you.
Starscream: The ambitious Seeker might smirk and make a sarcastic comment. "Well, well, aren't you a contortionist? Just be grateful you don't have to transform into a jet-like me. That'd be a real pain." He'd joke you can fold in his cockpit like a piece of paper. He's pretty amused with your talent, and despite his cold and aggressive nature, he's careful to make sure you don't pull a muscle. He knows what it's like.
Soundwave: The silent and analytical Decepticon would observe your movements, stoic and quiet as ever. His visor might flicker slightly, indicating a level of interest. He might even record your unique abilities for future reference. It intrigues him how easily you can bend around like that. It reminds him of Ravage in a way. He will pick you up and place you on his shoulder if you tire yourself out because of it.
(Note: Sorry these requests took so fucking long. I wanted to clear out my inbox)
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shitsndgiggs · 2 months
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Hey, my request if u could write where kenan went on a few dates with a girl, but stopped cuz he wanted to focus on his football career, but he changes his mind when he and YN meet, and wants to be with her😗
A/N: It’s a bit different than what I usually post. It’s weird not writing in first pov.
HIS HEART - KENAN YILDIZ
When Kenan finds the person he didn’t know he needed
Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader
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︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿
Kenan had always been focused on his football career, and for a while, that focus meant leaving little room for anything—or anyone—else.
He had gone on a few dates with a girl, a casual thing, but nothing ever came of it.
Football was his priority, and he made the difficult decision to put his personal life on hold. Until he met you.
It was at a mutual friend's gathering when your paths first crossed. You weren't seeking anything serious, but there was an undeniable spark between the two of you.
Kenan, who had always been so determined to keep his head in the game, found himself thinking about you constantly.
Every time he saw you smile, every time your laugh echoed in the room, something shifted in him.
You had no idea of the effect you were having on him, but he was completely taken by you.
It was almost humorous, this tough, ambitious footballer, reduced to a lovesick puppy. And he didn’t mind it one bit.
One evening, after a particularly grueling day of training, Kenan decided he couldn’t keep his feelings to himself any longer.
He invited you over to his apartment, the same place where he had spent countless nights alone, prioritizing football over everything else.
When you arrived, he was nervous—something that rarely happened to him. You noticed how fidgety he seemed, how his usual confidence was replaced with something more vulnerable.
“Kenan, is everything okay?” you asked, your eyes searching his face.
He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair before looking into your eyes. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just… I need to tell you something.”
You waited, feeling your heart rate pick up slightly. The atmosphere felt charged, and you weren’t sure what to expect.
“I know we’ve only just met, but… you’ve changed something in me,” he confessed, his voice soft yet earnest. “I used to think that football was the only thing that mattered. I even stopped seeing someone because I didn’t think I had time for anything else. But then I met you, and I can’t stop thinking about you.”
You blinked, trying to process what he was saying. “Kenan…”
“I know this might seem sudden,” he continued, stepping closer to you. “But I want to be with you. I don’t care about what I thought before, about putting everything else aside. I want you in my life. You’re more important than anything else right now.”
His words hung in the air, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. Kenan wasn’t someone who said things he didn’t mean. You could tell this was a big deal for him, and it made your heart swell.
“I like you too, Kenan,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
A wide grin broke out on his face, the kind of smile that lit up his entire being.
He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, and you could feel the relief and happiness radiating from him.
“Does this mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” he asked, pulling back just enough to look at you.
You laughed softly, nodding as you leaned in to kiss him. “I guess it does.”
And in that moment, Kenan knew that he had made the right choice. Football was still his passion, but you… you were his heart.
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candycandy00 · 5 months
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Character:dabi AU Setting: gothic mansion Level: NSFW Mood: Dark Kinks: Bondage
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Count Touya - A Dabi x Reader Fanfic
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Dabi is a vampire. Bondage. Vampire-related biting and blood. 
Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers event! Any feedback would be adored! Dividers by @benkeibear.
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You know you’re playing a dangerous game, sneaking into Count Touya’s manor like this, but you’ve taken every possible precaution.  It’s daytime, so he should be sound asleep in his coffin right now, and you’re armed with silver crosses, wooden stakes, and even a clove of garlic for good measure. 
You might be a freshly awakened Slayer, but you’re ambitious. Why not go straight for the strongest vampire around and nip this whole problem in the bud? 
Count Touya has a handful of human servants who keep watch during the day. You’ve already incapacitated all of them, leaving them unconscious in the various rooms where you found them. Now all that remains is the master of the manor himself: Touya Todoroki.
From what you’ve been able to learn about him, he comes from a long line of powerful vampires. He has siblings who live in other lands, and apparently he’s the only one who terrorizes the local villages and feeds on unwilling humans. You even heard reports that his youngest brother actually protects the villages near his manor! 
Regardless, you’re walking down the stone steps to the dungeon, where his coffin supposedly rests. The sun doesn’t reach down here, but vampires are weak during the day even if they don’t burn. The trick is to stake him the moment you open the coffin. Take him by surprise!
You find his “bed” at the bottom of the stairs. On all sides, there are chains and bars and strange devices, probably for torturing the poor humans he feeds on. You creep over to the coffin, a stake in a leather holster at your hip, easy to grab. You use both hands to open the heavy lid, your heart thundering with anticipation. 
But as you lift the lid up, you realize something is terribly wrong. The coffin is empty! 
“You seriously thought I was in there?” 
The voice startles you, and you drop the lid back down as you turn to face whoever is in the dungeon with you. All you can see is a dark outline, a shape. 
“Who’s there?!” you ask, already gripping the stake in one shaking hand. You know the answer, it’s obvious. But you don’t want to accept it. 
“You know who I am, sweetheart. You came here to see me after all,” the voice replies. 
You back away from the shadow, holding the stake out like a dagger. “Impossible! Vampires are weak during the day!”
He laughs, the shape quivering slightly with his movement. “Not if they’re used to the sun.”
You frown, confused. “You couldn’t be used to the sun! It would burn you! It would-“
Whatever you were going to say dies in your throat as the shape steps forward and snaps his fingers, causing dozens of torches to light up at the same time. The light illuminates his face, and you can now see the prominent burn scars. 
It can’t be! Vampires can heal all wounds, except those caused by the sun. That means he let himself burn just to become more accustomed to the sun and avoid the weakness! He’s deranged! 
But there’s something far worse that occurs to you as you back away from him. So much worse that you’re trying your best to not think about it. 
“You must be new to all this,” he says, dodging when you lunge at him with the stake. He grabs the weapon and wrenches it free of your grasp, then snaps it in half and tosses it aside. 
You tear the silver cross necklace from your neck and hold it up in front of yourself like a shield. He looks at it with flat eyes. “Seriously? Jewelry?” He knocks the necklace out of your hand, seeming totally unbothered by it. 
As a last ditch effort, you dig the clove of garlic from your pocket and fling it at him. He glances down where the clover fell to the floor and then back to your face. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” he says. 
All out of options, you back away again, trying to avoid thinking about your one, strange weakness - one he could so easily exploit. 
Your back collides with the wall, and you can feel the chains there, poking into your body. You’re trapped! Count Touya moves closer to you, until he’s just a few inches away. 
“Now, what am I gonna do with the cute little Slayer who wandered into my house?” he says, looming over you with an unhinged grin on his scarred face. His inky black hair frames a pair of striking blue eyes, and a pattern of tiny metal hooks mark the edges between scarred and healthy flesh. Those burns must have been outrageously painful… the deep purple coloring… the texture…
You blink, realizing your hand is halfway to touching his face. He looks surprised too, his lovely eyes shifting to your outstretched hand. 
Oh no. It’s happening. Your weakness is already taking effect! How long before he realizes? Minutes? Seconds? 
How long before he realizes you’re deeply, pathetically, weak for men with scars? 
You can’t resist scars. Just looking at them turns you on, let alone touching them, feeling them beneath your soft fingertips, tracing their edges. And Count Touya seems to be covered in them. You can see some on his hands, peeking out from his long sleeves, and on his neck, disappearing under his black shirt. Just how far do they go? Imagining his body is making you soaking wet, and your skin is flushed with heat. 
“What are you doing?” he asks you as you lower your hand and look up at him, your breaths coming a little faster. 
“N-nothing,” you say, trying to avoid his probing gaze. 
He only looks more curious. He reaches out and grips your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes glow brightly, and you know what that means. He’s going to glamour you! He can make you do anything! 
“Why were you trying to touch me?” he asks. “Do you have some kinda spell or weapon?”
“No,” you say, slightly dazed, compelled to answer him truthfully. “I just wanted to touch your scars.”
He looks confused. “Why?”
“Because scars turn me on,” you say. 
His eyes widen. “Seriously?” Then he smirks. “Well there’s plenty more, sweetheart. You wanna touch ‘em?”
You nod your head. “Yes, please!”
He looks you up and down, apparently noticing your deeply aroused demeanor for the first time. You’re clenching your thighs together, breathing hard, blushing. He laughs. “Are you really that riled up by my scars?”
“Yes!” you answer, his glamour forcing you to be honest. “I’m so wet right now, I can’t stand it!”
He releases the glamour, his eyes going back to their normal bright blue. “Sorry, doll, but you broke into my house and meant to kill me. I have to punish you for that.”
You feel so embarrassed you might just die. You admitted all that right to his face! But you don’t have long to dwell on it before his eyes flash and you suddenly lose consciousness. 
When you awaken, you feel sore. Why are you sore? Your arms and legs won’t move the way you want them to. It takes several seconds for your mind to snap to awareness, for you to make sense of anything. 
You’re chained up against the cold stone wall of the dungeon, your arms chained above your head, your legs chained to short metal posts, far apart. You realize with a start that you’re completely naked, not a stitch of cloth on you anywhere. You jerk against the chains, wanting to cover yourself, but they’re strong and secure. 
“You weren’t kidding, huh?” 
Your head turns sharply up to find Touya standing in the room, watching you. His eyes trail down your body, lingering on your thighs. 
“You’re dripping,” he says, a smug grin on his lips. 
You blush furiously, trying and failing to close your legs. You’re chained up in a very lewd pose. 
Touya steps closer, unbuttoning his shirt, letting it fall open and reveal his heavily scarred torso. 
Oh wow. 
“You’ve put me in a difficult position,” he tells you. “On one hand, there’s a wet, needy little cunt right in front of me that’s desperate to be fucked. And I’d enjoy that. But on the other hand, there’s a Slayer here who tried to kill me. I can’t just let that shit fly, you know? Why should I reward you with a good time?”
One hand reaches out, touches your face, and slides down to your throat. It feels like he’s checking your pulse, feeling the blood pumping through your neck. “So what do I do with you?”
You want him. You want him inside you way more than you ever wanted him dead. You squirm in the chains. “Please… I can’t bear it…”
His eyes widen slightly again, and he turns away from you. “The way I see it, I have two options,” he goes on, now pacing leisurely in the room. “I can fuck your pretty little brains out, or I can rip your neck open and use your arteries like straws, completely drain you. Both sound pretty fun to me.”
You’re breathing hard, your chest heaving, a thin sheen of sweat on your soft skin. His eyes roam over you once more, and you get the impression that he’s struggling to contain something. But is it desire, or bloodlust? Is there even a difference with vampires? 
Suddenly he lunges at you, so fast you had no time to react. One of his hands is in your hair, using it to pull your head over and allow him easy access to your neck. Then you feel two razor sharp teeth sink into your flesh. You cry out, struggling futilely against him, but there’s nothing you can do with your arms and legs bound. You’re completely helpless as he drinks from you, his tongue lapping up the blood as it spills from the wounds. 
It hurts. He’s not making two small puncture wounds, like you see on most victims of a vampire attack. No, this is more visceral, more messy, like he’s devouring you. 
You finally stop your useless struggling and go limp, and that’s when he stops and pulls away. 
“Hey, you’re not dead yet, are you?” he asks, the tiniest hint of worry in his voice. 
“No,” you say, lifting your head to look at him. You’re not dead, just feeling weak from the blood loss and especially needy. 
He wipes his mouth and says. “You’re fucking delicious.”
The comment fires up your arousal again. God, you want him so bad. “Please take me,” you say, arching your back in the chains. “Please ruin me!”
He stares at you a moment, as if he’s not sure what to say. Then he grins. “Well since you’re askin’ so nicely…”
You watch as he opens his pants, revealing more of that gorgeous scarred skin. Then, he pulls out what you’ve been waiting for since the moment you laid eyes on him: a beautiful, thick cock. There’s light scarring along one side, making you salivate, and more of those shiny metal hooks dotting the edges. You can’t help licking your lips. 
He moves closer again, this time his hand slipping between your thighs, his fingers probing your slick folds. You moan, wishing you were free to wrap your arms around his neck, but you’re still chained up, at his mercy. One finger grazes over your clit, and your body jolts, rattling the chains. He watches your reactions, seeming amused. 
When he pulls his hand away, you whine in frustration, but he soon replaces it with something much better. You feel his tip prodding at your entrance, and then all at once his entire length is inside you, buried to the hilt. You gasp as you feel the scar tissue scraping your walls, and his body presses against yours. The contrasting textures of his skin feel amazing as they rub across yours.  
He thrusts into you, making the chains rattle wildly, making you cry out in ecstasy. He leans his face forward, and you think he might kiss you, but instead he digs into your neck again, his teeth plunging into your warm skin. You can feel you blood spilling out, can feel his lips on the wound, sucking out your life force. There’s something so intimate about it, about the way he’s feeding on you. 
His teeth bear down harder as he thrusts deeper, animalistic grunts escaping his bloodied mouth as you scream. 
It’s all too much, overwhelming your senses. You cry out as you cum, clenching him tightly, gasping for breath. 
He eventually releases his hold on your neck, looking you in the eyes. Then he kisses you as he cums inside you, letting you taste your own blood on his tongue. 
When it’s over, you’re left weak and dizzy, barely clinging to consciousness as you slump in the chains. 
You’re certain he’ll kill you now, finish draining you while you’re vulnerable. You’re his natural enemy after all, a Slayer who broke into his home. But somehow you can’t be upset about it. You’re too satisfied to be upset about anything. 
He buttons his shirt as he says, “A servant will be down later to feed you.”
You look up. “Feed me?”
“Sure. You need to keep your strength up.”
You’re confused, dazed. “Why?” you ask. 
He grins at you. “I got to thinking, it’d be pretty fun to have a Slayer as a pet. So prepare yourself. You’re gonna be down here for a long time.”
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a/n: a little summery skjei family fic 🥰 nothing too crazy to talk about, but i’ve been having fun fleshing out all the little families and you’ll see the twins’ births at some point bc i had a fun idea for that! enjoy!
word count: 2k
tw: none
summary: it’s the first summer weekend in lakeville and brady just wants to grill, of course something always goes wrong
“Brady, I’m going to give the twins a bath,” you shout out, the wiggling almost one year olds trying their best to escape your grip. “Daph’s in the playroom.”
Your husband pokes his head back inside, grill tongs in one hand and a meat thermometer in the other. “Bath before dinner?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at the deviation from the usual schedule. You’ve been insistent on keeping the twins on a schedule, arguing it’s the only way to keep a little order in their first year of life. So the deviation is unusual.
Instead of answering, you turn so he can see the twins, completely covered in cocoa powder. They look like little Cockney chimney sweeps and Brady’s jaw drops slightly before he lets out a loud, unrestrained laugh.
“Bath before dinner,” you confirm wryly. You shift Millie up on your hip, heart lurching when she lunges for Brady with a cry of “Dada!” as if he’ll save her from her bath time fate. Easton’s more accepting of his fate, but he’s rubbing at the cocoa powder on his face and arms, getting you all dusty too. He grumbles when he licks at his fingers and realizes that the cocoa powder isn’t as tasty as actual chocolate.
“Definitely a good reason for the schedule change, sweetheart,” Brady grins, saluting you with the tongs. “I’ll keep an ear out for Daph.”
“I’ve got Bluey on in there,” you comment, tightening your hold on Millie as she fights you, legs kicking. “She should be good, but just so you’re aware.”
He nods and you traipse up the stairs, ready to do bath time battle with the twins.
Brady returns to the grill, the back door open so he can hear the faint sounds of Bluey and Daphne if she calls for him. It’s a gorgeous July night in Lakeville and you’re finally settled into summer mode after making the trek up from Raleigh. Brady’s been dying to get the new grill fired up, ready to start a summer of steaks and backyard get togethers with his family and your rotating crowd of guests. Unfortunately, it’s rained every day for the past week, making the entire Skjei household restless.
You’d given up yesterday, letting the three kids run wild around the backyard in the rain with the dogs. The mug and grass that had been tracked into the house was disgusting, but the big smiles on all the kids’ faces had been worth it.
Brady’s the last Skjei standing who hasn’t gotten to start his Minnesota summer checklist. You’d told him that he could grill in the rain if he really wanted to, but he’d complained that the first grill of the summer needs to be in sunny conditions.
Finally, thankfully, and just in time to save your marriage, the sun emerged on your fourth day in Lakeville and Brady had immediately packed up the kids to take them to the grocery store. They’d returned with steaks, a ton of veggies to grill, and of course, the makings of ice cream sundaes.
Seeing him so excited about the first summer grill had you excited too and you’d gotten ambitious, planning on making brownies from scratch for the sundaes. Of course, that’s when the Hurricane Twins got into everything and made a mess.
Brady’s happily humming to himself, settled on an Adirondack chair while he waits for the asparagus, onions, zucchini, and eggplant to grill. It’s the Fourth tomorrow, so he’s glad he got a chance to break in the grill before the big test, when you’re having the entire Skjei family over for a barbecue before heading down to the lake to watch the fireworks. The backyard is tidied up with all the kids’ toys organized and the tennis balls kicked into the designated dog toy bucket.
Speaking of the dogs, they’re both rolling around in the grass and are definitely going to need to be hosed down before being let back inside. Brady makes a mental note to handle that after dinner.
He gets the vegetables off the grill and into a disposable aluminum tray, covering them with tin foil to keep them warm while the steaks get carefully arranged on the grill with a satisfying sizzle. Brady grins at the immediate smell of cooking meat, flipping the lid of the grill down and tossing a stray tennis ball for Reese and Sully to chase.
It’s suburban quiet, the soft sounds of the neighbors in their own yards and the few cars going up and down the street providing a soundtrack to the July night.
Brady gets up and heads to the back door again, calling for Daphne. “Daph, baby, why don’t you come join me and the puppies?” He calls, making his way through the kitchen and into the playroom. It’s a mess, predictably, and Daphne is starfished on a fuzzy floor cushion, watching Bluey with slightly glazed over eyes. Her little bike shorts and Disney Princess shirt combo is covered in grass stains and a ketchup splotch from lunch. Brady grins at the sight of her, looking exactly like you when you’re exhausted and zoning out to a show.
He laughs and draws her attention. “Oh! Hi, Daddy,” she chirps. “Wanna watch Bluey me?”
Squatting down to ruffle her dark hair, Brady shakes his head. “I wish I could watch Bluey with you, but I have to finish making dinner. Do you want to come outside with me?” He asks, even as her attention is drawn back to the cartoon.
“No fank you, Daddy,” she replies absently, one bare foot kicking out in a stretch and clipping Brady’s knee. She lets her heel rest on his leg, wiggling her toes to the Bluey theme song. Brady laughs and pinches at her toes briefly before setting her foot back on the floor and standing up.
“You know where to find me if you need something, okay, Duck?”
“Mhm,” she hums in response, essentially dismissing Brady back to the yard.
“At least she’s polite,” he mutters to himself, heading back outside to the grill. He can hear the sounds of bath time upstairs, splashing punctuated by your shout of “Oh my god, Eastie! Don’t eat soap!”
With a wince and a silent thank you that he’s not in charge of bath time tonight, Brady slips back outside to man the grill. The back door shuts just slightly behind him.
The steaks are perfect, just a few minutes later and Brady loads them into the other disposable tray, ready to let them sit inside before cutting them up. He thinks about whistling for the dogs, to warn them not to follow him inside, but since they’re peacefully splayed out on the lawn, Brady figures it’s okay to try and sneak inside.
The door is fully shut when he reaches it, both disposable trays held on one arm. Brow furrowed, Brady tries the handle and mutters a curse under his breath when it doesn’t give.
Locked.
He leans his forehead against the glass pane, spotting Daphne right next to the door, one foot perched on the inside of her other knee, little fingers playing with PlayDoh on the countertop. Where the hell did she find PlayDoh?
It doesn’t matter, Brady shakes his head and knocks on the door. The sudden sound startles Daphne and she looks up, wide-eyed.
Brady smiles, just a little nervously, “hey, Daph. Baby, can you open the door for Daddy?”
She looks from his face to the door’s hardware as if it’s the first time she’s seeing it. Which is impossible, since she’s definitely the one who had to have flipped the lock to lock him out.
“How?” She asks, scrunching her fingers around the hot pink dough. Little pieces of it fall to the floor and Brady knows you’re going to flip when you see the mess. Especially when Daphne puts her foot down and steps right into it. He winces.
“See the lock, the gold piece,” he tries to point as best as he can with the glass in the way. “Flip that back the opposite way you did before.”
Daphne’s eyebrows scrunch together and her nose wrinkles. “I don’t know how!” She cries, starting to look nervous. “I didn’t do it!”
Brady sucks in a calming breath. The trays are hot against his forearm. “Okay, it’s okay. Can you go get Mommy and tell her I’m locked out?”
“Mommy’s with the babies,” Daphne shakes her head.
“I know,” Brady replies, shifting the pans on his arm. “It’s okay, go get Mommy. Or unlock the door, Daph.”
“I don’t know how!” She cries again and runs off, leaving Brady to thunk his head against the glass with a groan.
He puts the trays down on the table so his arm doesn’t burn and remembers that his phone is in the pocket of his shorts. He jabs at your contact information in the recent calls section and presses speakerphone, waiting for you to pick up.
Until he sees your phone on the kitchen island, vibrating across the counter.
“Fuuuuck,” Brady groans, ending the call and dialing the landline. He can hear it ring through the back door and when the line picks up, the squeaky little voice is too familiar.
“It’s Daphne, who calling?”
Brady barely manages to contain his groan. “Daph, honey, please put Mommy on the phone,” he says, making another mental note to have another conversation with Daphne about not answering the phone.
“Daddy!” She yelps delightedly. “How come on the phone?”
“Daddy’s stuck outside, remember?” He can’t help but laugh at the insanity of the situation. Through the glass, he can see Daphne skipping through the kitchen and disappear up the stairs while she chatters in his ear about nothing.
Brady leans against the side of the house, embracing the fact that he’s stuck outside and enjoying listening to Daphne chatter away. The next voice he hears is beyond welcome.
“Hello?”
“Sweetheart, oh thank god,” Brady breathes a laugh.
“Brady? Why are you on the phone?” Splashing and giggling echo down the line. “Mills, honey, please don’t splash Mommy.”
“Daph locked me out,” he replies, nearly drowned out by Millie’s shriek in the background.
You sound distracted when you ask, “she what?”
“Locked me out,” he confirms. “And couldn’t figure out how to unlock the door.”
“Oh my god,” you laugh, voice getting distant when you say, “Daffy duck, did you lock Daddy outside?”
Brady can hear Daphne’s high pitched giggle and a smile subconsciously turns his lips upward. “Can you come down and let me in? Dinner’s going to get cold.”
“I have two soaped up toddlers,” you scoff. “Settle that cute butt of yours in a chair and get comfy, Mr. Skjei. I need at least fifteen minutes to finish up here and get them dressed.”
“Mommy, Eastie’s throwin’ toys,” Daphne pipes up in the background and Brady hears you sigh before you end the call.
Brady tucks the phone back in his pocket and takes your advice, getting settled in the Adirondack chair again, whistling for the dogs to play fetch. Twenty minutes later, he hears the back door open and he turns his head to see your smiling face, Easton clinging to your neck, his hair damp and curling slightly around his ears.
“We’re teaching her how to unlock doors asap,” you giggle, stepping to the side so Brady can come inside with the disposable trays. He ruffles Easton’s hair and kisses the toddler’s forehead as he passes.
“I still can’t believe she did that,” Brady shakes his head, getting the steaks on a cutting board so he can start slicing. You move around the kitchen to set the table, Easton still clinging to your side. His little face is buried in your neck, one hand curled into the neck of your shirt.
“I guess she sees us do it?” You shrug and sneak behind Brady to snag a fatty piece of steak off the cutting board. You hum happily. “Grilled to perfection, as usual.”
Brady laughs and turns his head to kiss your cheek. “Let the Lakeville summer officially begin,” he proclaims dramatically, getting a laugh out of Easton.
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