#you can’t do that for asks FOR SOME REASON | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

misctf · 1 day ago

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Me and my buddy get along well but I don’t have a father and for some reason I feel like I look up to him. He’s a brunette hockey player who really cares about his body and tracks all of his cals. Any way you could spike one of his beers and give me the best exjock dad ever?

“Let’s go!” Your bro throws down his game controller and looks over at you. His confident smile adorning his handsome, angular face, “I used that same move on the ice the other day.” His clear excitement is infectious and you can’t help but smile.

It was another one of your usual game nights with your bro. The two of you sitting on the couch, controllers in hand, playing some hockey videogame. And even though he always seemed to win, you just enjoy the moment. Your friendship started out when you were younger- the two of you meeting in grade school. And as the years went on, you grew closer. You’d go to his hockey games and cheer him on. He’d fill in as that male role model you needed. When you went to college, he’d continue playing hockey, while you focused on your studies. But you continued to enjoy each other’s company. But this was your last year, and he planned to move across the country. The very thought was painful. Losing him would be tough.

“Hey, you good?” He asks, “I told you I wasn’t going easy.”

You smile, “I was wondering,” You begin, “I know you don’t like beer...”

“Gotta keep these toned.” He says, running a hand down his exposed abs.

“But it’s bro night.” You continue, “I got some special beers for us.”

He seems to consider the offer. Part of him looking a bit apprehensive. After all, he spent much of his time focusing on maintaining his body. His lean muscles and thicc hockey butt were all products of his careful diet and dedicated workouts. But he could tell it would mean a lot to you. He nods slowly.

“One won’t hurt.” He says with a grin, “Cheers to another game night.”

Part of you feels relieved. Another part of you feels somewhat apprehensive. If the man you bought this beer from was telling you the truth... well, you didn’t know what to think. It was probably some prank anyway, and you probably wasted the money. You hand him a solo cup with the beer in it.

“To bro night.” He smiles and takes a sip of the beer, “You know, I’m gonna miss this.” You feel a pang of sadness in your chest, “But we’ll always be bros.”

You nod, taking in his words. Feeling a sense of impending loss. Wishing you could just enjoy these moments forever.

“I’m gonna miss this too... dad.”

He looks over at you and raises an eyebrow, “What did you just call me?” He chuckles.

And you can see it. A few hairs starting to emerge from his once clean-shaven face. A few greys appearing in his brunette locks. Was it true? Was this stuff really going to do what the man said it would?

“Nothing, dad.”

And as the words leave your lips, your buddy groans. His youthful skin starts to lose its glow. A few wrinkles appear on his forehead. And the hair on his face sprouts into a full beard. His hands rush to scratch his new facial hair and his eyes widen.

“Bro, what the hell...” He whispers, “Something’s wrong...”

“What do you mean, dad?”

You watch as his brunette locks begin to recede and his tan vanishes. All the while, small, itchy hairs start to sprout from your buddy’s chest and abs. At this point, he stands up and runs his hands down his new body hair. There’s a look of disgust and confusion on his face, and you can’t help but feel bad for him. After all, he did pride his clean-shaven look.

“You keep calling me dad.” He says, staring at you, “And now...” He catches a glimpse of his receding hairline and aged skin in the mirror, “Bro, please. Whatever you’re doing, you gotta fuckin’ stop.”

You could tell he was getting angry. But you were still marveling over the effects of this drink. You couldn’t believe it was actually working.

“Bro, are you even listening to me?” He says, “Please! You can’t...”

“Sorry dad.” You reply, putting even more emphasis on “dad.”

The effects are more dramatic. Your buddy lets out a pained moan and falls to his knees, gripping his abs. You can see tears fall from his eyes as he realizes his firm abs are feeling softer. And in only a few moments, his abs are covered by a thick layer of fat. And another. And another. And although your buddy is too busy squeezing his new flabby stomach, you can see his pecs fill with fat and sag, resting atop his new gut.

“This can’t be...” He winces at his new, gravelly voice, “Oh god, I sound so old.” He looks up at you, tears still staining his eyes, “Dude, come on... please... I can’t be this.”

A part of you feels bad, even guilty. Your friend’s anger replaced by fear. His confidence shattered. His toned physique truly replaced by that of a middle-aged dad. Part of you wants to reverse this. But you don’t even know how.

“I...” You bite your lip, “Look, I don’t even know if I can undo this, dad.”

Your buddy shuts his eyes and shakes as the short hairs erupt into longer follicles. You watch as a forest of hairs emerge from under his shorts and travel down his legs. His new gut and soft chest are covered in a forest of gray and dark hairs. And you realize now there’s nothing left of your old buddy, at least physically. His receding hairline, gray hairs, gut, and hirsute form all scream middle-aged dad. He slowly stands up, wincing at a pain in his lower back and knees, as he becomes more familiar with his new age.

“Dude...” He whispers, “What did you do?” You can hear the anger return to his voice.

“I didn’t want to lose you, bro.” You say, “And I’ve always looked up to you. And truthfully, I’ve always wanted a dad and the beer promised it could do that. Just as long as I called whoever drank it dad.” Your friend looks shocked and picks up the solo cup.

“Good one dude.” He laughs, “Okay, okay you got me. Maybe if I drink the beer and you call me bro or something, I can return to normal.” He says hopefully, “I promise we can forget all about this.” The desperation starts to creep back into his voice, “Just... please I don’t want this.” He begs.

You’re not a bad person. You even feel a bit guilty. And part of you even wants to do as he suggests. But another thought enters your head. Would he be able to forget all about this? Would he forgive you? You bite your lip and sigh.

“I’m sorry,” You can see his eyes widen in terror, “Dad.”

He drops the beer in his hand, causing the beer inside to spray everywhere. His eyes glaze over and his jaw goes slack. A part of you worries for a moment, but slowly he smiles. There’s no evidence of concern on his face.

“Ah sorry, I spaced out there for a second.” He chuckles, “Looks like I made a mess.” He goes to bend over to pick up the cup, but winces, “Damn back’s been acting up.”

“Don’t worry dad.” You say as he sits back down on the couch, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m good, I’m good.” He reassures, “Come on, we have to finish our game.” He says with a grin, grabbing the game controller, “You know, I was quite the hockey player back in my day. Well before this.” He chuckles, patting his beer gut.

“I know.” You reply, sitting next to him, “You tell me all the time.” The two of you start to play, and you immediately notice his videogame skills are not where they used to be. But you’re enjoying this moment- going on as if nothing changed.

“Look at that!” He cheers when he scores a goal, “I told you not to take it easy on me, son.”

You go to reply but you feel a warmth coarse through your body. You quickly shake your head and return to the game. And only a few minutes later, he scores another goal.

“You doing okay there, son?” He asks.

And again, you feel a warmth coarse through your body. You look down at the controller and can’t help but notice that your forearms look a bit thicker- your hands meatier. You shake your head and look up at your dad.

“Uh, I’m good dad.” Your voice even sounds deeper- somewhat dumb too, “I-I gotta go to my room.”

You stumble towards your room, feeling somewhat off balance. Entering your room, you’re immediately hit by the smell of intense BO. The same way your bro would smell after a hockey game. There’s gear on your bed and random posters of hockey players on your walls. You barely have time to comprehend what’s going on, when you hear your dad’s voice.

“Hey son, are you okay?”

You groan as your muscles begin to contract violently and your shirt tears from your growing musculature. You can see yourself in the mirror- abs, thicc ass, and lean muscles- the body of a hockey player. And you realize that you’re becoming your dad’s ideal son. Somehow, the beer that splashed on you had the same effects as drinking it.

“Wait dad!” You call out, wincing at the oafish jock-like tone that saturates your words, “Please...!”

“Son?” He asks opening the door.

And your eyes glaze over. Your jaw goes slack. And you feel your mind warping and changing. Any memories you had of your old life or self are being forced into the very back of your mind- all to make room for your new existence as a smelly, ripped, hockey jock. Your dad’s perfect son.

“God it reeks in here.” Your dad laughs, patting you on the back, “Must be workin’ hard out there.”

“You fuckin’ know it.” You reply, eyes dull, “It’s gonna be a good game tomorrow, pops.”

“You learned from the best, champ.” He smiles, “Now come on, we got a game to finish.” You smile, “I want to show you one of my favorite moves. Worked every time. Maybe you can try it out on the ice tomorrow.”

“For sure, pops.”

You follow your dad back to the couch. The two of you playing videogames late into the night, filling the air with boisterous cheers as you played. You couldn’t have asked for a better dad. And he couldn’t have asked for a better son.

#male tf #age progression #mental change #personality tf #jock tf #dumber tf #male transformation

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sleepyparalysisdmon · 2 days ago

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SVT when you can't sleep

Requested? No! (But they are still open!)

Genre: Comfort

A/N: This is entirely self-indulgent because I woke up at 3:45am and couldn’t go back to sleep. For this reason, please forgive any typos or mistakes.

Seungcheol

Deeply disturbed when he finds that you are not next to him in bed. Gives it a few minutes, thinking you might have just gotten up to go to the bathroom or get some water, but when the time ticks by, he gets up to find you on the couch, watching TV. “Baby, what are you doing up?” He’ll ask concerned, glancing at the clock. When you say you woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, he’s plopping onto the couch with you, making you curl into him. You feel bad because he needs his sleep, but he’ll brush you off, saying he’ll stay up with you any night. You do eventually doze off in his warmth while reruns of some sitcom play on the TV and he’ll carefully carry you back to bed.

Jeonghan

He feels you tossing and turning for what feels like hours. He’s tired and maybe even a little bit irritable when he touches your back, asking why you’re still up. He immediately feels bad for his irritability when you say you’re sorry, but that you had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep. He’s tugging you into his side, patting your head in a ‘there, there’ sort of motion, asking you to tell him all about it. It becomes clear that you’re not going back to sleep anytime soon, but that’s okay, because he’ll just lie there next to you and talk, no matter how drowsy he is.

Joshua

Seems to have a sixth sense about when you get out of bed. You’ve barely got your slippers on before he’s asking where you’re going. When you say you just can’t sleep, he looks at the time, which is somewhere around 4am. He shrugs, getting out of bed as well, despite your insistence that he needs his sleep. He starts the coffee pot and gets a skillet out to make breakfast and you’re resigned to the fact that you both are now up for the day. He doesn’t have any complaints, not even when you both are dozing on the couch by 2pm.

Jun

When he realizes that you never actually got to sleep and are just laying in bed scrolling at nearly 1am, Jun simply takes the phone out of your hands and puts it back on the charger. “Play a game with me. Eye spy with my little eye…” You have to laugh because, well, it’s totally dark in the room now. But you play along because everything in your bedroom is familiar to you, even in the dark. You’re kind of touched at how aware of the little things in your room he is, even if he doesn’t live here (yet). Like he knows that you left a blue sweatshirt on the back of your vanity chair, or that there is little green detailing on your jewelry box. You doze off by about the tenth round and Jun keeps quiet after that.

Hoshi

He comes home late from practice and finds that you’re still awake, tossing and turning, and he’s concerned. When you say you just haven’t been able to settle down, he thinks for a split second and says, “Well, I was about to shower. Come with me, maybe the warmth will help.” There’s absolutely nothing suggestive about the idea. He even washes your hair for you, letting you relax as he scratches your scalp for way longer than was probably necessary. You’re out like a light as soon as your head hits the pillow. Now showering before bed, especially with him, is a regular occurrence to wind down.

Wonwoo

When he rolls over in the middle of the night to find that your beside lamp is still on and you’re still reading, he glances at the clock and then raises an eyebrow. “Must be a good book,” he mumbles. When you hum and tell him that it’s actually not, but you just can’t sleep, he’s sitting up next to you, leaning against the headboard. “Just how bad could it be?” He doesn’t acknowledge the ‘can’t sleep’ comment out loud, plucking the book from you and reading to you. He has to admit, the book does kind of suck, but he’s relieved to see that you’ve dozed off to the sound of his voice within a couple chapters.

Woozi

He knows your sleeping habits and also notices some of the things that don’t help it. But he’s hesitant to correct you, so he tries correcting these bad habits by correcting them in himself. Say you’re hanging out late with him while he works. The first thing he’ll do is turn down the caffeine at a certain point, saying he wants to actually get some sleep tonight. The second thing is that he’ll subtly rush to wrap things up quickly for the night so both of you can get home at a decent time. This technique won’t work every night because sometimes you don’t follow his lead or it’ll just be an exceptionally late night for him, but both of you tend to get better sleep when you keep a routine and cut the caffeine.

Didn’t you see this coming? The moment you say you can’t sleep, he’s serenading you. Sometimes it’s sweet and soft with the intent of soothing you, and sometimes it’s goofy and animated with the intent on making you lighten up when you’re particularly frustrated by your bad sleeping habits. Sometimes you scold him to rest his voice, but he Will. Not. Be. Stopped. He’ll sing entire albums for you until you’re sleepy again, so don’t test him.

Mingyu

Prepare to be cocooned the moment you say you can’t sleep. He’s so sweet and he also doesn’t work out for no reason. He’ll literally wrap you in the blanket and hold you tight against his chest, talking sweetly about what might be bothering you. Even if nothing in particular is bothering you and you just can’t sleep, that’s fine too. He’ll stroke your hair and keep you warm until you’re ready to sleep.

Minghao

He absolutely thinks it’s stress. He notices the pattern - when you have a lot going on a work or in your family life, you’re extremely restless. Like Woozi, he might make it seem like it’s for him when he says he wants to try out a new bedtime routine. He likes meditating and decides to do it before bed, asking you to join. Then, when you both are done, he pushes you towards the bedroom, following you with two cups of tea. It doesn’t work right away, but the longer he keeps up this little routine with you, the more he notices that your shoulders are more relaxed and you fall asleep faster.

Seungkwan

One night, you’re exceptionally restless and he asks what’s wrong. You complain that the street lights coming through the windows and all the city noise have been bothering you lately. He lets you be for the night - if you want to toss and turn for a while, if you want to get up, if you want to cuddle, whatever is fine with him. But the next night before bed, he hands you two small boxes, one with a brand new sleep mask and one with small noise cancelling earbuds, encouraging you to try them out. These two things will constantly be replaced and upgraded as needed as long as they seem to help.

Vernon

Might be a little dead to the world when he sleeps, but if you happen to nudge him in the middle of the night saying that you can’t sleep and you seem upset by it, he’s automatically offering to take a walk, no matter how groggy he is. Throws on some clothes and splashes his face with cold water in the bathroom so he can get with the program for you. Walks for hours if you need it - talking or in total silence, headphones or no headphones, holding hands or no physical contact at all. Absolutely does not matter to him. He’ll get back to sleep when you do.

Chan

Another one that makes it seem like it’s for him. He’s noticed your sleeping habits and how run down you seem by it, but doesn’t address it directly. Instead, he says he read an article that described how bad blue light was for sleep and he thinks he wants to try an electronic cleanse a couple hours before bed to see if it helps him. “Are you okay with that?” He’ll ask hopefully. Of course you agree, because it’s for him! He’ll resist the urge to giggle to himself when you pass out almost immediately when your head hits the pillow on the first night of this so-called electronic cleanse. He did not expect it his little plan to be successful so quickly.

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oimitocat · 2 days ago

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LUST OVERFLOW | OS

han jisung x m!reader

cnc (dubious consent) + unintentional piss kink + slight crying + unprotected sex + semi public sex + praise kink + restroom sex + dry penetration (use lube guys)

a/n; imma try to slowly change my layout jjsj

you always bullied the others when they’d go to the bathroom in pairs. obviously it’s sometimes a security thing, but really, you found it silly how they always made someone go with them.

you were humming to yourself your verses, staring at yourself in the mirror while your stylist added some final touches to your hair. you lost track of how many times you’ve had your hair done today. this is the second show of the day and-

“you look nice,” you comment when your eyes drift towards jisung.

the rapper blinked, straightening up. his stylist finished long ago, he just walked near your station to grab your water bottle. he stares at you, unsure how to answer. you’re used to it, so you smile. the thing about your boyfriend is that when it comes to you- he doesn’t know how to take a compliment. anyone else can say something and he’ll be playfully narcissistic for a second.

not with you. he genuinely has his brain short circuit when his charming boyfriend compliments him. especially when you eye him with those eyes, which always trail towards his waist. he fidgets, taking a seat next to you. the members are off goofing around, the camera is running and recording felix with chan.

your stylist finishes and walks off to work on jeongin. no one is looking at you two.

jisung’s leg is bouncing, he realizes he maybe shouldn’t have drank so much water. he normally doesn’t but being around you makes him so parched for some reason. you still make him nervous, sometimes he can’t believe you actually want him. yet, he feels at ease when you place a hand on his knee. he swallows.

“wanna come with me to the restroom?” he asks, realizing he should probably empty his bladder before performing.

you smile, he misses the glint in your eyes as he stands. he gives a small announcement to chan before exiting with you. idols are buzzing about as he guides you to the restroom. he’s decently surprised when it’s empty, heading straight to the farthest stall.

he doesn’t think much of you coming in with him. he does the same to you sometimes. it’s his anxiety that makes him do that though, yet he still doesn’t question you.

before he even faces the toilet, you grab him and press your lips against his. he makes a small noise, closing his eyes and accepting the tender kiss. except the tenderness disappears once he melts into your arms. you have a hand behind his head, pushing him close and pulling him flush against you with an arm around his waist. his hands grab your sides, clinging to the outfit.

your kiss turns aggressive, eating away at his lips ferociously that he finds himself backing away. still, you finish eating his lip tint before finally letting go.

“w-what are you doing?” he asks breathlessly, eyeing you with hazy eyes. his heart is racing and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other when he remembers what he came here for.

“what do you mean?” you ask, not so innocently and slightly serious.

jisung blinks, pursing his lips. “i- no, nothing.” he says softly, pecking your lips again.

he tries to pull away again, he needs to pee. he feels his bladder crying out from how long he’s holding it in for. yet, the peck you mistake it for consent. you grip him again, making him whimper.

you spin him around, pulling down on the collar of his shirt. he shudders when you kiss and lick his nape. he’s sensitive there, trembling and hiccuping his moans. your hand snakes down and rubs him through his pants. that’s when he completely slaps your hand away.

“y/n- no-“ he tries to get away but you grab his waist and grind him. “i need to pee- that’s what i came here for!”

he slaps his hands over his mouth when the door opens and footsteps present themselves. just as two voices exchange conversation between themselves, you buckle his belt and pull his pants down. he tries to stop you, panicking because he’s never been good at being quiet.

“y/n,” he begs as quietly as possible, not only does he know what you want but there’s two things happening.

1) there’s people down the restroom stalls.

2) he needs to pee.

he’s getting overwhelmed. it doesn’t get better when you push him forward, making him brace himself against the wall with his hands out. his heart is about to jump up and crawl up his throat and out his mouth when he feels you hands spread his cheeks apart. the toilets flush farther down and he closes his eyes when he feels the tip of your dick against his hole.

“y/n-“ he whimpers out, bringing a hand back to push you away.

the two people are chattering as they walk out and jisung takes the opportunity to look back at you. his eyes are glistening with tears.

“i need to pee.” he says, “stop.”

“then pee baby,” you say with a serious expression, shoving yourself in with a single movement.

jisung turns back to face forward, trembling and gasping. he screws his eyes shut as you grab his hips and pull him flush against your pelvis. he feels you pulse inside him, he opens his eyes and looks down at the toilet bowl. his own dick semi-hard but close to bursting with piss.

“y/n- wait- pull out- we-we can’t,” he feels his tears drip from his eyes when he screws his eyes shut again at the movement of your hips.

“shh,” you usher as you lean forward, flush against his back.

“i need to pee-“

“then pee.” he shakes his head and you have the audacity to bring a hand over and grab his dick to aim down at the toilet-

“y/n stop-“ he shakes his head but the more you thrust into him, the more he feels his will weakening.

“come on baby,” you whisper huskily into his ear, “be my good boy. you’re doing good so far, so well, my pretty baby is obedient, no?”

jisung swallows, hiccuping when he feels a trickle of pee leave him. “ngh-“

“don’t you want to be good? my good little slut?”

that did it. he slaps a hand over his mouth, his other hand bracing him against the wall as he lets out the stream of piss into the bowl. you pound into him, as he pees, finding ecstasy in it. you do feel a little bad, but you two have talked about things like this and you know he’ll be fine.

even after he’s done, he trembles as you keep your relentless pace from behind. at some point he’s unsure if he came alongside his piss, the sensations new and overwhelming.

“that’s my pretty baby,” you grunt from behind, reaching your high soon after.

“you’re a piece of shit,” he gasps when he feels you cum deep inside, his hips aching from your grip on them.

“my feisty baby,” you smile, placing a kiss on his nape. “you can hate me later.”

“sure will.”

you smile at him as you pull out with a shuddered sigh. and maybe he definitely shows you his hatred later that night, cockblocking you with an evil, innocent smile.

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seoulmatez · 2 days ago

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— 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓂𝑒? ౨ৎ

suna rintaro x reader. 609 wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ timeskip suna ﾉ suna is out of the country ﾉ honestly just lovesick ramblings :3

“do you miss me?” suna asks, only his eyes and the fluffy dark hair peeking out from his hood visible on the screen of your phone. if you had to guess, he must be lying on his stomach, phone lazily tilting back in his loose hold.

“hm, i don’t know.” a crease forms between his eyebrows at your unfavorable answer. you try to stop yourself from smiling as you continue. “having the bed to myself has been nice. i haven’t had to worry about your ice cold feet waking me up in the middle of the night.”

“they’re not that cold…” you can’t see it but you can hear the pout in his voice.

“liar—they might as well be actual blocks of ice.”

with a defeated sigh, suna’s phone tips back even more, obscuring the entirety of his face, leaving you with nothing but a view of the ceiling. even his voice feels a little farther away. “maybe i’ll just stay here forever then.”

“so dramatic,” you declare with a laugh. a smile lingers on your lips even after you put the joke to rest. “i’m just kidding. of course i miss you.”

he adjusts his phone once more, finally fitting the entirety of his face in the screen. he doesn’t look convinced of your words, eyes squinted in skepticism, lips still tugged down in a small frown. “what exactly do you miss about me?”

“everything,” you tell him.

“that’s not specific enough.”

you almost call him out for being so needy but you suppose listing off a reason or two is the least you can do, considering you were the one to start all of this. “okay, i miss the smell of your cologne in the apartment.”

it’s nothing specially, really—the same fresh scent he’s been wearing for as long as you’ve known him, but the lack of it seems to make you hyper aware of his absence. like a candle you light for comfort, his signature scent has become a homey one to you, not so easily replaced by others.

your answer seems to bring suna some type of consolation, his eyes softening. the frown he wore has all but disappeared but he doesn’t let himself smile quite yet. “anything else?”

you hum thoughtfully for just a moment before something comes to you. “i miss your late night snacking and how you always share with me.”

as much as you scold him about eating so late, you’re just as guilty whenever you find yourself sitting down to enjoy ramen with him far past midnight. though, there’s something strangely peaceful about the two of you passing a warm bowl between each other in the silence of the night—when the rest of the city has gone to sleep. little moments like those make it feel like the world belongs to the two of you alone.

suna nods in acceptance of your answer, although he still isn’t willing to let you off the hook. he meets your gaze through the camera, wishing that he was able to do so in person. “one more.”

“fine…” you don’t have to think for long to come up with one final answer for him. “i actually do miss sharing the bed with you. it feels empty when you’re not here.”

that’s probably your least favorite thing about him being away—how you have no choice but to go to sleep without him beside you, how you’re forced to wake up without him near.

“i knew it.” a grin takes over his face but it isn’t victorious nor cocky—he’s genuinely happy that you’ve admitted it.

because sleeping without you is like not sleeping at all to suna.

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎

#˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #suna x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna x you #haikyuu x you #suna fluff #haikyuu fluff #suna drabble #haikyuu drabbles

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sugurugetofavoritemonkey · 3 days ago

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if requests are open… i beg of you, the ethan writer…. to please write something about ethan being a certified munch… like you can’t tell me he doesn’t eat pussy for a SPORT. sure he’d love you to sit on his face but… i can just imagine him folding your knees up into your chest so he can have full access to you

A/N : Hii ! <3 I loooove your request so much, it just SCREAMS Ethan Landry to me, this man would happily die between your legs if it means he can eat your pussy for hours and make you cum multiple times !! ��🖤 Please tell me if I did justice to your request and you know where to find me if you want other Ethan’s fics 😘✨

Ethan Landry lives for eating you out as he loves giving the sweetest pleasure to your pussy…or is it his ?

❦ Even though Ethan Landry is inexperienced when he first starts eating you out, your boyfriend would improve so quickly because of two simple reasons. First, because Ethan wants to do things right and would absolutely listen to your advice when he asks you what feels good or not, taking mental notes of which spot makes you moan the loudest and which pace makes you cum the fastest. Secondly, because Ethan wants - need - to eat you out so frequently that he, anyway, grew to be very good at it.

❦ Ethan would definitely leave hickeys on your inner thighs before he even touches you pussy, his head nicely snuggled between your thighs as he nips, bites, licks and kisses your skin that will show his marks, only for him to know who you really belong to.

❦ He would then press his fingers on your pussy, his thumb rubbing on your clit through the pretty lace material of your panties that he offered you a few days ago, teasing you as Ethan feels the wetness dampen the fabric underneath his fingertips and proudly smiles when he realizes that he can work you up this nicely by barely touching you.

❦ Ethan would also always, and I say always, kiss your pussy through your panties before starting to eat you out, almost like he’s greeting your little cunny like the sweet boyfriend he is.

❦ This man could die between your thighs and he would be the happiest man ever. He would literally overstimulate your pussy for hours because Ethan cannot even realize how long he’s been giving you pleasure and he doesn’t care, he just wants you to feel good and…Ethan also gets excited just by eating you out.

❦ In fact, Ethan would get so painfully hard from pleasing you only with his mouth that he would start humping the bed to get some relief, cumming in his pants a few times seeing how much he’s desperate for you, and only you, making his head spin with pleasure.

❦ I also believe that Ethan’s hair is quite sensitive and with how much you would be pulling on his curly strands when he gives you orgasm one after the other, Ethan would whine, moan and grunt so much against your pussy, creating the most delicious vibrations against your sensitive clit.

❦ If you try to remove his head from your pussy (and if it’s still consensual of course), you won’t have any chance against his strength, his head won’t budge away from you. Nothing will stop Ethan if he isn’t finished with you yet and he will pin you down with his free hand by pressing against your tummy if he has to.

❦ Ethan will also bite your thighs if you contain your sounds of pleasure, he doesn’t want that and absolutely won’t let you do it. Ethan relishes in the way you so beautifully moan his name, whine in a pitched tone when you’re close to your climax and when you softly tell Ethan that you love him between soft whimpers after he overstimulated you.

❦ If he eats you out from behind or when you sit on his face, Ethan makes sure to grab handfuls of your ass while your thighs tremble and shake under his sweet indecent ministrations.

❦ Hell, this man would even eat you out at school between classes when Ethan really can’t wait to have you alone for himself. Ethan would take you to the restroom and press you against the wall as he kneels before going down on you. His head would be snuggled between your thighs as you look down to find his filthy gaze not leaving yours until he can hear you moan his name while you cream on his tongue. It simply feels like heaven to Ethan.

❦ Your boyfriend will even eat you out just to get rid of his stress, as Ethan paws at your skirt and then sliding his hand underneath it to caress the lace of your panties, after you both came back home from a long tiring day. « Please baby… I’m stressed, just need to eat you out real quick… I’ll be good… Can I ? », Ethan pleads you as he nuzzles your pulsating neck with his cold nose, pressing encouraging kisses there.

❦ Ethan feels immensely proud about giving you such pleasure only with his mouth and to hear those sweet sounds of yours mixed with little cries of his name, it all sounds like the most perfect music to his ears. After a session where your boyfriend knows that he did a particularly good job at making you feel good just by seeing the blush on your face, Ethan would silently look at you with a smug smile like the nerd he is.

❦ Ethan would make eye contact with you when he knows you’re close to reaching your climax. His eyes being half lidded white how pussy drunk he is.

❦ If you squirt while he eats you out, Ethan will feel so proud that he won’t ever shut up about it as he gently encourages you to do it again for him.

❦ After giving you so many orgasms with his mouth, a long session that leaves your pussy sensitive and puffy because of his lips, Ethan would so gently and softly kitten licks your pretty cunt and press little kisses on your clit, like the sweet boyfriend he is.

❦ While going down on you and after taking care of you, Ethan would praise you so much as he leaves kisses all over your face and pampers you with lovely words that he reserves only for you, his perfect girlfriend, « You did so well for me, angel. »

❦ Well, Ethan worships your pussy if that wasn’t clear enough.

❦ But what Ethan favors to do the most is folding your knees up into your chest so he can have full access to you and literally do whatever he wants to your pussy. Ethan would sometimes add two of his fingers when he wants to give you even more pleasure while sucking on your clit, twirling his tongue around it and lapping at your folds like the sweet puppy he is as he tries his best to tongue fuck you.

❦ When Ethan’s finished with you, as you’re so overstimulated that your legs go limp when he releases them, barely able to feel your legs anymore seeing how much strength your boyfriend applied on them. Some marks already start forming as Ethan apologetically presses kisses on your bruised skin, his face now covered in your juices as his mouth glistens. Ethan would give you the sloppiest kiss ever to make you taste yourself on his tongue, as he whines in your mouth at the feeling of having done a good job at making you feel good. During this kind of kiss, Ethan feels restless as he uncontrollably paws at your chest and holds your face to deepen the kiss, as he rubs his still hard-on against your pussy. His pants dampened with his cum after cumming in his pants so many times, feels sticky on your skin while he humps himself on your poor overstimulated and swollen clit. Yet, Ethan will never forget aftercare as he cleans you up like his dear little princess before cuddling you. Ethan is the loveliest puppy as he holds you tight in his arms, moving you closer to his body before he gets sleepy and rests his head on your shoulder, snoring lightly in your ear while he nuzzles against your face.

💗 Ethan Landry Masterlist 💗

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ohbueckers · 1 day ago

Text

HEART OF A WOMAN. you should call into work if that ain’t too much to ask, i could pour you up a drink and we could burn somethin’.

03, CHAPTER THREE. COME THROUGH.

ju speaks. late chapter again lol and this election fucked me uuup but thank God for writing as a distraction. you can expect another part between now and monday mayyybe… i have some free time. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x fem!oc. warnings. same old + sexual innuendos (we’re very familiar with my edging game).

present day, may 2025.

paige: yo 6:23pm

wyd?

nailea text me back bro 6:29pm

nailea: hmmm

busy

paige: busy my ass

nailea disliked a message

nailea: i’ve been at work all day. some of us don’t get to just play basketball, madison 😓

paige: ohhh is that right?

i’ll have you know i work hard af ma

nailea: hard enough for a reward?

paige loved a message

paige: bring that ass over here nai

nailea: i’ve got emails to finish

paige: they’ll be there tomorrow

i’m here right now. waitin on you actually

nailea: maybe i have been thinking ab it 6:32pm

paige: mhm?

well you ain’t gotta think no more let’s just do

nailea laughed at a message

nailea: you’re really ridiculous

paige: come over and tell me that to my face

nailea: depends on what you got there

a girl needs incentives

read 6:35pm

paige: i got plenty

few drinks, maybe roll up too. thought that might get you

nailea: it’s a start

send the address, i’ll come through when i’m done

paige loved a message

i sink back into the couch, letting my head rest against the arm, my feet comfortably draped across paige’s lap. the last few days, i tried to keep myself busy, focus on work, ignore the way my phone would vibrate and my thoughts would jump straight to her. the same old game. she’d sent a few texts, nothing too serious, just little things to test the waters i guess, and when she called yesterday, talking about how much she missed me, i could already tell she was pulling me back in, trying to see if that thread between us would hold.

paige kept her word, though—i can give her that. i said i’d answer, and she made sure i’d have a reason to. she knew exactly what to say, and it’s a shame that she always does, really. it’s messed up, but it works. i can’t say i haven’t missed this, either. the way she can look at me and make me forget everything i swore i’d remember, every reason i should’ve walked away.

and now, here we are, the sun setting behind her window and casting everything, even her, in some warm, orange glow that only makes her look all the more attractive. it’s like the universe is playing along, trying to romanticize something i know i should be more careful with. there’s an old celtics game playing on the tv, but neither of us is really paying attention to it. i watch her more than the screen, notice the way her fingers brush absentmindedly over my leg, the way she insists that she should be the one to hold the joint to my lips.

paige leans back, and her hand has inched from my ankle to a casual spot on my bare thigh. we’re both too deep in drinks and hits to make sense of it, but i’m not sure i would’ve said anything even if i was sober. she’s wearing one of her uconn tees, which i guess you could call old now, the shirt hugging her arms a little tight. her hair’s falling over her shoulders, looking a little shriveled but still perfect, and every time she glances at me, she wears this smug little smirk.

“…feels like everything i knew it’d be. more work and pressure than it seems, but you know me,” paige says, her grin turning a little self-satisfied, like she’s relishing every second of her own success. we’ve been catching up—if that’s what you’d call it—for awhile now. i should probably leave soon, sober up and drive home. i’m not that far. but i don’t want to.

she drags her tongue slowly over her bottom lip, eyes hazily drifting back over to me. “what about you, huh?” she asks. “you got that insane move up. what’s that been like?”

i roll my eyes, tilting my head against the couch arm to look at her. “it’s not that insane.”

paige grins, shrugging and taking a sip of her lazy attempt at a cocktail. i’d offered to make them myself, honestly not trusting the blonde to not fuck it up, but she’d insisted, hostess duties or something.

“still sounds like a pretty big deal. you’re all professional and shit now,” she rambles, and i can’t help but chuckle at her choice of words.

i shake my head, hiking one of my legs up. “it’s not like i’m paige bueckers or anything,” i tease, a stupid, huge smile on my face. how is she able to bring out the worst and the best in me? “no one’s asking me to sign their shoes after a meeting.”

she laughs, eyes half-lidded and glassy, gaze intimidatingly lingering on me just a little too long. “bet you got your own version of that, though. people hangin’ on your every word, just tryna get a second of your time. don’t lie.”

i shrug, eyes shooting away from her. i don’t get how she does it. “i mean, it’s been good,” i admit. “long hours, but it’s nice to finally get involved the way i always wanted to, y’know?”

her hand shifts a little on my thigh, just enough to remind me it’s there, and i glance down. “coulda called that years ago,” she murmurs, barely louder than a whisper. then, it’s silent for a moment. just long enough for me to think of something else to ask her before she beats me to it. “you happy?”

i swallow, suddenly feeling a little hot in the face. “i am,” i reply after a pause, furrowing my eyebrows with a nod, almost like i’m trying to convince myself of it. “the dream, right?” i let out a breathy laugh, and paige smiles.

it’s silly to think that the both of us could recall that conversation like it was yesterday. but this wasn’t the dream. not the one we had when we were kids. just our own fucked up, adult version of it. and somehow, someway, we’re still here. somehow, someway, we still can’t let it go.

“and the people? they treat you right?” she sounds like she really cares, but is still trying not to press too hard.

“everyone’s good. most of them, anyway.” she can probably see through every word i say. pick up on the way i describe everything as good. i hesitate, looking back up at her. “never thought i’d be this close with a pro team after graduating, that’s for sure.”

“bro, ‘kea really don’t play ‘bout you,” paige laughs, but she’s serious. rickea’s one of the first people i got close with during my internship, contrary to belief. i was barely around the team then, too. “and maya’s been talking all kinds of good about you since cam’s party.”

i can feel my face flush, and i shift to sit up next to her, suddenly acutely aware of how close i am to paige, how tangled up i’ve let myself become. the mention of her name has clearly been a sore subject. i’m not sure why i feel so guilty, paige was mine first, but my mind flashes to her anyway, and then to paige, who’s probably hearing everything maya’s been saying about me, while i’m here, in the middle of all of it.

i don’t wanna ask what she’s been saying, and i surely don’t wanna press further into how deep paige and maya might be. ignorance is bliss, right? but shouldn’t it be my business? is paige still my business?

instead, i force a shrug. “i mean, it’s not like we’re on the same level,” i say, clearly selling myself a little short. maya’s been here longer, knows what she’s doing better than i do. credit never hurt.

paige doesn’t say anything. she inches just a little bit closer, and the sound of a sold out stadium of cheers from tatum’s three pointer is suddenly going in one ear and out the other. a small smirk tugs at her lips, and she tilts her head, eyes not sure what to focus on as she rubs up and down on my thigh, hand inching a little higher everytime. “i agree.”

i squint at her. “you do?” but it’s less of a question. my eyes flick to her lips, and i know she catches it because her smile widens, just a little.

“mhm,” she murmurs, her fingers twisting in, gripping my thigh until i’m squeezing my legs together. there’s a moment of silence, like she’s giving me a moment to breathe, to prepare, and she’s not done. “nobody’s fuckin’ with you, baby. believe that.”

i can feel my defenses slipping—not that they were ever really there anyway—as she presses closer, and i feel a warmth spreading through me, one that has nothing to do with the la heat. “what are we even doing, p?” i ask, and i don’t know where it came from. no part of me wanted to start an argument, or worse, hear the truth. i can’t look away.

she shifts, her expression softening as she glances down, then up again. she doesn’t know the answer either. “i dunno. what we always do.” she leans back a little, resting her head on the couch right near my chest, so close that her breath brushes against me with each exhale.

i tilt my head down, just enough to meet her blue hues, and the words come out before i even realize i’m saying them. “i’m supposed to be over this. over you.”

the second they’re out, i wish i could take them back. i didn’t wanna ruin the moment. the way her face changes, her jaw tightening and a flicker of something unreadable flashing in her eyes, tells me i’ve hit a nerve. a silence falls between us, an uncomfortable one if i’m honest, stretching longer than i mentally prepared myself for.

paige screws her eyes shut, letting out a low, frustrated breath as she sits up, running a hand over her face like she’s trying to gather herself. the loss of her touch makes me feel cold. “fuck, nai.”

i push myself up too, eyebrows are furrowed as i try to make sense of it. “what? i just asked a question.”

“you always gotta make shit so fuckin’ difficult,” she mutters, shaking her head like this whole thing is somehow my fault. like i’m the one complicating it.

i frown, glancing down, and she continues. “you’re just—God, nai, it’s like you can’t just let things be. you always gotta question it, question me.” she bites down on her lip. she’s actually upset, and the horrible part about it is that it’s so like her—so unmistakably paige—that somehow, i can’t even bring myself to be mad.

i want to laugh. “why does that piss you off?” i don’t want to say it, but the words slip out anyway. “you think you’ve given me any reason not to? especially now that you’re seeing maya?”

her head crooks to look at me, and her eyes narrow with it. “what the fuck does maya have to do with this?”

i can feel the heat in my face, the way everything inside me tightens, like i’ve been holding my breath for way too long. “what do you mean, what’s she got to do with it? you’re seeing her, paige. i’m not blind.”

her jaw clenches tighter than before, and she stands up, pacing a few steps before turning back to me. “we’re not—” she pauses, clearly trying to find her words, but i’m not giving her the time.

“that’s all i need to know,” i finish, forcing a tight-lipped grin. “you don’t have to lie. i’m quite sick of those from you, actually.” i chuckle, but it’s a hollow sound, one that doesn’t even make it past my throat. i reach for my shoes that i tossed to the side when i got here, pulling them onto my feet.

paige watches, hands on her hips, and i’m fine with her quiet. “i don’t want you to leave upset with me over somethin’ we coulda talked about,” she softens, but it doesn’t change the fact that i’m already over it.

“i’m not upset with you,” i bluff, and i tie the laces of my sneakers a little tighter than necessary.

she glances down, tongue swarming her mouth, and i don’t even have to look at her to know that she’s thinking of some way to stop me. “nai—“ she starts.

“i’m not upset,” i repeat, and i hope it was more firm this time. i force myself to look her in the eyes, not a single thought behind them. neither of us is willing to be the first to back down, but i’m too exhausted to care anymore. “i just need to go,” i finish, standing up and rounding the couch.

paige’s face drops, hesitation etched across her entire face. “you can’t leave. you had too much. just… stay, aight? we’ll figure it ou—”

i grab my jacket, ignoring her weak attempts. somehow, this all feels like that night again, and i feel that familiar nausea creep up. “i’ll call a fucking uber,” i snap, throwing the door open. and before she can stop me, i’m gone, my pulse racing as i step out into the hall, leaving behind the sound of her voice.

i don’t think i’m very good at pretending i’m not upset.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers uconn #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x fem #paige bueckers blog #ju’s anons 🪅#wlw fanfic #wlw fiction #wlw yearning #wlw smut #wlw post #wlw blog #lgbtq fanfiction #lgbtqia

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revelboo · 2 days ago

Note

reader: *engaging in asshole cat behavior to piss of prowl*

prowl:

Pretty much 🤣

Stand Too Close Pt 7

IDW Prowl x Reader

• Why are you like this? For some reason he can’t understand, you’ve taken it into your little mind to deliberately try to antagonize him or provoke him. It makes him almost miss the days when you just ignored him or sulked in a corner. Freezing when you decide that you absolutely need to sprawl across the back of his hand on your belly so you can draw crude, inappropriate little pictures on his report to Optimus. “Find somewhere else to be,” he growls, tipping his hand to dump you off. Aware of the slide of your little, warm body against him as you straighten and glare up at him.

• Whatever that was between you had been electric, scandalous and exciting. And your personal enemy is now going out of his way to not touch you ever since. Actually trying to avoid you like he hadn’t been the one to get handsy and pin you down. Like your current frustration isn’t entirely his fault. Blowing out a breath from your spot where he’d dumped you, there’s no figuring him out. What you do know? Something has to give. Ever since realizing big and unpleasant can get closer to your size and that he might just have a freaky side? That’s the only place your brain wants to go. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I kidnap you and ruin your life?”

• Door wings lifting stiffly, he glares as you stand up and lean a hip against his knuckles, insisting on touching him again. Arms crossed while you raise your eyebrows at him in challenge. He knows you’re baiting him, but he still grits his denta. “You ran out in front of me, remember?” He growls, struggling with that smug look on your face that makes him itch to do something about it. Remembering shocking you speechless when he pinned you for all of a handful of seconds before you got even angrier. Remembers exactly what that had done to him.

• “You’re a cop car. How was I supposed to know you’re too stupid to understand how crosswalks work?” The data pad in his big servos cracks. And then he’s shoving up from his desk so fast his chair turns over. Glaring down at you like he’s considering squishing you like a bug. Fingers digging into your upper arms to hide the faint, nervous tremble, you smile sweetly. “Oh, did I find a nerve?”

• You’re trying to provoke him. Even knowing that, he’s still lunging. Mass shifting again even though he feels the drain to his reserves from the massive expenditure of energy too soon after the last and knows he’s going to pay for it later. For now there’s your satisfying little yelp as he catches you by the arm and yanks you into him, his other arm cupping the back of your head when you try to rear back. There’s that anger that twists in his spark. “Not nearly so bold now,” he growls, lip curling as you actually bare your little teeth at him and he remembers that startling lick of pain when you’d bit him.

• Big hands on you, pinning you to him as the jerk smirks. But he’s your size again or closer to it anyway. Tugging against his grip just to feel his servos tighten against you, because you like it even if you’ll never be able to admit it out loud. “You think?” You ask him and he leans closer like he’s daring you to try and bite him again. And it’s tempting, but using the brush guard on his chassis to boost yourself, you lunge, mouth crashing against his in anger and frustration and need all twisted together.

I think Soundwave may be winning for most shelf space taken

#transformers x reader #prowl x reader #idw prowl

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dilf-rot · 16 hours ago

Text

Hot Summer - MDNI 18+

TAGS: Wolverine x Reader, Logan Howlett x Reader, Logan has a knot, idc if wolverines are not a canid species I’m doing my best ok, Femme Reader, Friends to lovers sort of deal, Mentions of rut / heat, maybe a little feral?, also im giving this bitch fangs because he should have them, smut with very little plot, creampie, helping a horny mutant in need, PinV, oral (fem receiving) ((for like 1 moment)), marking / hickeys / scratching, this is literally just smut with minimal plot

WORD COUNT: 2560

A/N: Hey, remember when I asked if you would still love me if I wrote Logan with a knot? Yeah well here it is, may it comfort you in this terrible world <3

If you enjoy my work consider sending me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/rotwrites (Not required by any means, writing requests are still free!)

—------------

The summer at the institute was always a little boring, or even very boring. You were one of the few students who hadn’t made plans and ended up stuck in the mansion, doing mindless tasks and trying to not be bored out of your mind. It was mostly empty, and as you walked the halls, you hardly even noticed the change in atmosphere. It had just been you, Charles, and a few other kids that would pop up every now and then. So, you were rather surprised when you rounded the corner and saw him standing there.

“Logan,” You call, and he turns to look at you. Your breath catching in your throat as you take in the sight of him, sweaty and a little dirty from whatever he had been doing. “I thought you were out for the summer?”

“Yeah, was. Chuck called me back, gotta fix up some things.” He looks you over, and smiles, the flash of his sharp canines sending flutters right through your stomach.

“Oh, well it’s good to see you.” You try not to stare, wondering if he has somehow gotten even more alluring in his brief absence. The length of your shorts, and thin fabric of your tank making you feel much more bare now than before. “I’ll let you get back to it,”

“Thanks, doll. We’ll catch up when I’m done.” Something in his voice feels different, but you try not to focus on it as you head over towards the kitchen. He did look rather good, maybe even more than he usually did. Though you had been trying desperately not to think of him in that way, to preserve one of the few friendships you had built here. But the image of him dripping in sweat, in a dirt stained beater and jeans that were tight in all the right spots. That image would make things harder for sure. The thoughts of his teeth sliding along your neck, his rough hands clinging to your hips.

You pushed those thoughts down as best as you could and decided you would attempt to read, lounging in the corner of the kitchen, book in hand. Your eyes flicking across the pages, barely absorbing the words, just trying to give yourself a reasonable distraction. You weren’t sure how long you had been doing this before Logan had made his way into the kitchen.

“Reading?”

“Barely-” you laugh, but are briefly silenced when you look up to see Logan, shirtless. He has his dirty tank in his hand, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow. It wasn’t even that hot out for the season, and yet he was somehow soaked in sweat. You couldn’t imagine the work Charles had him doing to be that strenuous.

“Oh yeah? Something on your mind?” He loops the fabric of the tank through one of his belt loops and walks over to the fridge.

“Uh-” You can’t help the way your mind practically goes blank as you watch him. He’s taken a beer from the very back of the fridge and popped the cap off on the edge of the counter, hopefully he hadn’t chipped it or that would be another thing to add to his list of repairs.

“You want one?” He references the drink in his hand, you nod and stand up from your chair. Whatever book you were reading was quickly forgotten and left on the floor. You stand next to him leaning against the counter as he opens the beer for you and hands it to you. He must’ve bought them and hid them in the back of the fridge whenever he had gotten back to the mansion, cause you couldn’t recall seeing any in there for the past few months.

As you take the beer from him your fingers brush against his, and as if he had been shocked he flinches. His eyes are dark as he looks down at you. He grits his teeth and tries to regain his composure, but you can tell something is going on. You step closer to him, your hip almost touching him. He leans down towards you, as if he was going to tell you a secret.

You want to turn your face towards his, to swallow him up in a kiss, to beg him to tell you what he was thinking. But as he moves closer to you, you find yourself paralyzed.

“You smell good,” he breathes in, his face inches away from your neck.

“So do you…” You turn your head to avoid his gaze. He smells better than usual. Something about the smell of sunshine, dirt, and whatever sawdust or debris had been falling onto him made you want to reach out and grab him, but before you could, he corners you. Your back against the counter, his hands finding your hips and effortlessly lifting you on top of the counter. He presses himself against you. You're caged in by his large arms, the muscles taut and glistening.

His face against your neck, his teeth almost brushing against your skin. His rough fingers digging into your hips. The fabric of his jeans rubbing up against your thighs, now wet from his sweat and your sudden excitement.

“Logan-” you whine, practically trembling, and he seems to remember himself.

“Sorry, doll.” He steps back and looks you over, a devious glint in his eye. Without another word he is gone from the kitchen. You are unsure of what to do, or what even was happening but eventually follow him.

He has resigned himself to his room, and you can hear him pacing back and forth behind the door. You knock gently and the sounds stop. He opens the door just a crack, he seems even sweatier and disheveled from when he had found you in the kitchen. His eyes piercing and intense, his pupils blown wide, his breath slow and shaky.

“Logan, are you alright?”

He grunts in response, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong?”

He looks you over, and opens the door wider. You step inside and he quickly shuts the door. He looks even wilder than he had in the kitchen, still shirtless, only in his jeans. Which you try not to make note of the very large and obvious bulge in the crotch. His hair is messy and disheveled, you imagine he had been running his hands through it as he was pacing around.

“Logan?” You walk towards him and he makes a strangled sound. “Are you feeling ok?”

When he turns towards you, your heart races and your breath catches in your throat. He looks so pathetic. Rendered down to some poor animalistic creature. He walks slowly towards you, and when he is a mere step away he grabs your hands and pins them up above you, your back pressed against the door.

“You should go,” He growls into your ear as he brushes his nose against your jaw. “Too dangerous for you to be in here.”

“Why? You’re not gonna hurt me,” You lean into his touch, resting your head against his.

“Might,” He drops your wrists and tries to step away, but you follow. Keeping the gap between you as small as possible. He groans as you run your hands along his arms, trying to be gentle and encouraging so that he may tell you what’s going on. Before you can ask, he takes one of your hands and slides it underneath the waistband of his pants.

Your eyes widened as you feel the weight and heat of his cock in your hand. You curiously push your hand down more and feel a swollen bulb at the base of it. Oh.

Oh.

Now you understood. You had at some points wondered just how animalistic his mutation was, but now you got it. Late summer was a rather common breeding season for a variety of mammals and it seems as if Logan was one of them.

“Let me help you,” You slide your fingers up the length of him, tracing the prominent vein on the underneath of the shaft.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” He shudders as you wrap your fingers around his cock.

“Why not?” You smile up at him, and you feel him straining to not thrust up into your hand.

“You might regret it.”

“I don’t think so,” you lean up so that your lips are nearly brushing his, and his restrain snaps.

He closes the distance and practically devours you, kissing you rough and desperately.

It was as if a fire had been reignited within him and he could do nothing to put it out. His hands grasping and clawing at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight against him. His lips leaving frenzied kisses against your jaw and neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin and his tongue soothing the small marks left in their wake.

He lifted you easily, dragging the both of you towards the bed where he tossed you down against the mess of sheets and pillows. His hands running along the curvature of your body, as if removing himself from you would cause him great pain. His face was wild, that of a crazed man who finally had found whatever he had been searching for.

You were utterly breathless and your heart beat rang in your ears loud as could be. He makes quick work of your clothes, tossing them off somewhere, his hands hardly leaving your body for more than a few seconds. He drags himself away from you for just long enough to find himself kneeling in front of you, pulling you down to the edge of the bed, your legs resting on his shoulders, his head between them, looking up towards you with the most pathetically hungry expression you could have ever imagined.

“You’re sure doll?” His voice is strained and rough.

You nod, your hands finding their way to tangle in his hair to softly encourage him to continue. He growls and presses his lips to your inner thigh, kissing the soft skin and taking the flesh into his mouth to nibble and bite at. Trailing up and down the length of each thigh, relishing in the small whines and moans leaving your mouth as he decorates your delicate skin with marks. Feeling satisfied that you were now his in this moment, he brings his attention to the aching spot between your thighs, dragging his tongue up through your folds to lap and suck upon your clit. The feeling electric and mind numbing. He slides his tongue along your clit in sloppy circular motions, sucking it in gently, generating small whimpers from you. He growls as he hungrily slurps you up, his patience growing thin as he becomes entirely enveloped in your scent.

He pulls away from you, a small whine leaving your lips as you sit up and rest on your elbows to watch him. He quickly kicks off his pants, and you gasp when you see him. The tip of his cock is red with need and practically dripping. You feel a bit more intimidated now as you stare wide-eyed at the bulb throbbing at the base of his cock. You could only pray that it would fit.

Logan smirks and hovers over you, caging you in with his large arms. “Having some regrets, princess?”

“No,” you lift your hips up to shamelessly rub yourself against his erection and he groans. One hand moving down your body to roughly grab your hip pushing you down into the mattress. He slides his cock between your wetness, your breath hitching when the head of his cock bumps against your clit. Your arousal coating him, the slick wet noises make your head spin.

“Please,” You whine. He presses the tip against your entrance and you try to lift your hips closer to him, begging for it to slide inside. Your breath hitching when it finally does. He moves painfully slow, the drag of his cock slowly stretching you out. A sort of burning rising in your stomach as you strain to be closer to him.

“So desperate,” He huffs, wrapping an arm around you and holding you close against him as he bottoms out. Your whines make his heart ache. “I’ve got you princess, I’m right here.”

You claw at his shoulders, his arms, his back, anything you can reach. The knot at the base of his cock pressing into you, you feel like you could break. Heat spreading over your entire body. You can’t get close enough. You want him to devour you. To take what he needs and worry about you later, but he’s being so gentle that it makes your eyes water.

His pace stays slow, once he feels you relax, he pulls himself back before pressing in again. Slow, deliberate, patient. He watches your face as you try to play tough, acting like you can handle it despite your trembling. When you flutter around him and a broken moan falls from your mouth he falters.

“I don’t think I can be gentle for much longer,” He whispers against your neck, kissing right below your ear.

“So don’t be,” your whimper flips a switch in him. He would have preferred your first time together to be different than this, to be softer and sweeter. To be kinder to you. But when you beg to help him, and try to take him so good, he can’t help himself.

He barely hesitates before his pace quickens, and the sheer force of his movements is enough to make your brain fuzzy and dumb. The headboard smacking into the wall with every rough movement, the bed frame creaking beneath you. You’d feel bad about all the noise if you were in any position to feel anything other than Logan ruthlessly fucking you.

His cock stretches you in such a way that each thrust presses against that sweet spot inside you. The knot at the base pressing against your clit. The slap of it sends little waves of pleasure throughout your body. His pace hardly falters, as you grip onto his arms, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist, desperately trying to take it. To help him through it. Wanting him to use you and be satiated.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he groans as he feels you tighten around him. You tremble and whine, shaking as your orgasm takes over and you can hardly think of anything as his motions begin to falter too.

He shudders as he pumps into you, his ruthless pace being diminished into small quick thrusts. You groan as you feel the knot slip in, and he cums. You feel so utterly full as more and more cum is spilled into you. So much so that it’s dripping down onto the mattress beneath you. Your eyes rolling back in your head, and you can feel drool leaking from your open mouth. Your body feeling limp, you can hardly manage to keep your eyes open and steady enough to look at Logan. He seems hardly affected.

“We’re gonna be here a while, Doll. Don’t get tired on me already,” Logan grins, pressing his lips against your neck and you shudder as you feel his sharp canines graze the sensitive skin.

At least the rest of your summer would be far from boring.

#logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #wolverine smut

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hidden-poet · 2 days ago

Text

S. lands on top; 6

summary: Coriolanus returns home to the Capital with two women from district 12 plaguing his mind. One a (presumed) dead mystery but another well within his reach.

warnings: unco, dark!Coriolanus, possessive!Corirlanus, Dark themes, mentions of death, she/her pronouns, kidnapping, violence, All of the warnings, dead dove do not eat.

Word count: 7,835

chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Coriolanus left Mabel without breakfast the next morning.

He was so angry, he could kill her. But what good would his anger do?

It would break his favorite toy and leave him nothing for it.

Instead he needed to show Mable that her actions amounted to nothing. Best she think she has no effect whatsoever. That all her kicking and screaming did nothing but wear her out.

He tried his best to show this to Dr Gaul too. When he arrived for work, he came with his normal causal presence.

While Coriolanus wanted to forget the night, Dr Gaul wanted to rub his nose in it.

She doesn’t look at him as she passes him in the boardroom. Her failed student wasn’t worth looking at. Wasn’t even worth talking to.

The beautiful bird perched on her shoulder did her talking for her.

It had beautiful blue feathers that looked soft to pet. It’s tail stuck out in show, and it’s beautiful green eyes darted around the room.

The bird looked panicked but sat obediently on her shoulder, despite having the ability to fly away.

“I hope you are all happy with the Reaping ceremony yesterday for it may be your last”, she taunted, sitting down in her chair.

The bird is taken from her shoulder and kept in her hand to stroke. Ths bird gained no joy from the motion, still sitting there with a panicked expression and shaking feathers.

“Who can tell me what was wrong with it?”, she questions. Her eyes fall on Coriolanus who looks down at his blank paper, defeated.

He hoped someone would speak up. Say something that she was sure to disagree with, but at least he would be able to hide under it.

No one spoke. Forcing Coriolanus to engage in the conversation he didn’t want to have. Of course Dr Gaul would make it a public whipping.

“We lost control”, he muttered.

“Hm, how?”, Dr Gaul asks as her finger runs down her bird's beak to show off it’s docility.

“We allowed them to speak freely”, he pushed out in a big breath.

Images of Reaping interview that consisted of crying children and awkward presenters, collided in his head with Mabel's own mistakes.

“Sparks are a dangerous thing, Mr Snow”, Dr Gaul provokes, “We like to think we can contain them but find too late that they have burnt our house down”.

“None of those children have enough spark to incite a rebellion” one of his co-workers interrupts.

Dr Gaul turns to him with a sly smile.

‘Of course not, you idiot’, Coriolanus thought, ‘but his Mable did.’

“We only need one of the children to be well liked enough that someone with enough spark does incite a rebellion”, Dr Gaul dismisses with a hard tone.

“Control is what we need” Coriolanus says louder for the group to hear, “Dr Gaul if you give us another chance, we-I can get them to perform how we want them to”.

Dr Gaul eyes her bird. It struggled in her tight grip but never pecked at her for release.

“You can’t bargain with a person who doesn’t know they are beat yet. Instead of interviewing them at the Reaping, we allow them a couple of days for their reality to settle in. Then we give them some media training, and we host a round of interviews for the Capitol to get to know them. Or at least the version we want them to be known as”.

Dr Gaul's condescending smile returns, letting him know he was wrong.

“You think they need time?”, she mocks in a low voice.

“I think they need a reason to perform. The motivation of death can also be a reason for non-conformance. We’ve been asking what have they got to lose, when we should have been asking what have they got to gain?”.

“And what do they have to gain?”

“Maybe we could offer-” a colleague tried to contribute but was cut off my Dr Gaul.

“Those who don’t know of what they speak, shouldn’t speak”, she snaped.

He quieted immediately and fell back into his chair. Once more the attention was back on Coriolanus.

‘’Mercy’’, he breaths. It takes him a second but he musters the courage to look Dr Gaul in the eye.

Her stare unnerves him, but he forces himself to look anyway.

The room is quiet while it waits for Dr Gaul’s reaction.

“Hm, interesting concept, Mr Snow.” she finally says, “Did someone write that down?’’.

“Mercy” she repeats more to herself. The bird is let go but remains on top of the table.

Her eyes roll around the room, looking at all the Gamemakers who shudder in their seats.

Coriolanus couldn’t help to think of Lucy-Grey despite how much he tried to fight against it.

She was a performer. Right to the end.

“I don’t understand how training them like a dog is going to make the games more entertaining”.

The voice was soft and gentle, coming from a female colleague who often came up with the most grotesque ideas.

Coriolanus scoffs at her. He hated people who couldn’t see the bigger picture.

The Games only played a small part in keeping the districts under the Capitol boot. Yet she wanted to focus all of their energy on it.

“It’s not about the Games. It’s about engagement” Coriolanus responded, “Who cares about a District as they come?”.

He felt a sharp twist in his stomach as he said it. Beautiful, strong Mabel caught his eye, and had never left his mind since.

“They are animals,” he states. Mabel’s actions don’t speak against it. Like a wounded animal in a cage, she lashes and bites.

“We need to turn them into something more marketable. Who cares when a roach is squashed? We need people to care. To want to look after them and ensure their survival”.

Coriolanus looks around the room to see his Colleagues all awaiting Dr Gauls input. He makes a point not to look at her like the rest do.

“By doing this, won’t it cause a up-rising within the Capitol?”, another Gamemaker who could not see beyond the Games speaks up.

Coriolanys groans, frustrated that he is lumped together with the same Gamemakers. If he had full control of the Games, he could make them the biggest event of the year. Not some side show holiday that people can take or leave.

But Dr Gaul won’t give it to him, unless he can show he is in control of Mabel.

“It’s not a beauty pageant, it's a dog fight”, Dr Gaul reasons.

The man who asked the question slumped in his chair, muttering agreements that he did not believe.

It was obvious he was trying to stump Coriolanus. But the man had no idea the conversation was just between Dr Gaul and Coriolanus. The group was merely a sounding board between the two.

“The only way we are going to get those children to perform the way we want is through mercy. Act like we tell you and we’ll relent”. Coriolanus finishes.

Dr Gaul suddenly stands up, gaining the attention from the room once more. She moves to the boardroom computer and pulls up a list of the tributes.

Small photos of the twelve that preceded their name and district were casted up on the wall behind Dr Gaul.

Coriolanus eyes the boy from 12. He still had a baby face. Full, round cheeks, and soft brown hair that fell over his forehead. His eyes were big and brown, and thin lips pressed together as if he was about to cry.

Coriolanus imagined the interactions that Mabel had with the boy. Did she ever kiss him? Ever hug him? Did she treat the boy like her own, or keep a friendly distance?

How will she react when he most certainly dies?

“Theory will only get you so far” Dr Gaul contends, “we must put it in practice. Each of you will be assigned a tribute to play up”.

Coriolanus' eyes shut, and an annoyed smile tenses at his lips. He could see where this was going.

“We have mentors. Let them do it”, he speaks out. Trying to claw his way out of the hole Dr Gaul is digging.

“Why, Mr Snow. Every great scientist conducts their own experiments. What would the mentors know of a great show?”, her voice carried a condescending tone.

There was nothing Coriolanus could stop her from giving him the 12 boy, and nothing he could do to stop her taking his 12 girl.

It was only her sick idea of training Coriolanus for presidency that allowed him to keep Mabel after last night.

He had failed Dr Gaul last night, and now she was throwing an extra obstacle in his way of training Mabel.

Dr Gaul would find some way of ensuring that Mabel knew of Coriolanus media training the boy. Poke the fire before Coriolanus could get it to a non-threatening level.

Coriolanus' lips tug into a smug smile. One day he would kill Dr Gaul.

“Shall we dish out tributes randomly?” he bites.

Dr Gaul waves her finger at Coriolanus. It was the only time that anyone had seen her display any other sort of emotion despite boredom.

Her amusement was a stark contrast no matter how small it played across her features.

Her lips sealed together to hold in her smile, her body slightly curled in as if she was about to erupt in whole body laughter.

With a bite of her tongue, she straightens and the lips that held in laughter, now parted to release her normal board tone.

“I have an idea of who I would like with whom”, she snarky replies.

There were 23 gamemakers, and only 12 tributes, so Dr Gaul picked a mixture of people she liked and people she despised.

They were paired to tributes according to their social status to Dr Gaul. The most unmarketable tribute was paired with the Gamemaker who tried to show up Coriolanus just moments before.

The tribute, a girl just shy of eighteen from district 5, had tried to volunteer her young sister. Stating that she had promised to take her place just moments before.

‘Make her a martyr for rebellion’, Coriolanus thought.

Dr Gaul finally gets to district 12 and to no one's surprise, pairs the boy with Coriolanus.

Coriolanus brings his fist up to his lips, trying different angles in his head that he could pawn to Mabel to make her believe he was trying to help the boy.

She was too smart, and too distrustful. She wouldn’t believe anything he would say. She would just have to swallow the news without any sugar coating.

“We’ll hold a national interview next week”, Dr Gaul announces, “You have until then to try this mercy tactic to get them to perform”.

With her dismissal, the Gamemakers move to leave the room in one big herd.

Coriolanus tries eagerly to follow them. The last thing he wanted was to talk openly about Mabel's failure with Dr Gaul.

“Not you, Mr Snow”, he felt his heart sink as she called out for him in front of the others.

A few turn to stare at him as he remains frozen in his spot. He shakes off his nerves as the last person closes the door behind them.

Returning to his seat, he sits with confidence he did not have and looks boldly at Dr Gaul.

She sits down at the head of the table, next to him and picks up her bird once more, stroking the back of its neck.

“You want to talk about a performance?” she remarks, clearly talking about Mabel.

“Last night-” he begins but is cut off by Dr Gaul who hadn’t finished talking.

“She’s everything I hoped she was going to be”, her eyes remain on her bird as she talks and Coriolanus is grateful she can’t see him squirm in his seat.

“Beautiful thing. Smart, stubborn, stupidly unafraid. A great feat for you indeed. I have never seen anything quite like her before”.

Her eyes flick to Coriolanus who stills in his seat.

“She’s an up-rising in herself. Are you sure you can handle that?”.

“Mabel is a spoiled child who got away with acting how she likes because of her beauty. She is only a up-rising because no one has ever told her no. Last night, I assure you, she was told no”.

Dr Gaul once more smiles. But her eyes remain on her bird.

“Do you practice what you preach? Have you shown her mercy?”

Coriolanus thinks back to the train. He had put his own coat over her to keep her warm while she slept on his knee. She didn’t know it of course, so he supposed it didn’t count.

He gives her chocolate as rewards. Although, since the book incident there has been no sweets in the penthouse.

He would hardly say he has been unkind to her. Strict maybe.

Mercy, however, was a high bar to reach.

“She’s clothed, fed, housed”, Coriolanus lists.

“Clothed sometimes”, she quips, “Fed and housed? Lab rats are fed and housed. That’s not mercy, that’s upkeep”.

The bird squawks and Dr Gauls flick its head to shut it up.

“Pretty isn’t she?” Dr Gaul asks, placing the bird into Coirolanus' hold.

He holds it gently, cupping the small clump of soft feathers between his hands.

Dr Gaul continues to stroke its head with her long, pointed finger.

“Mercy keeps her from flying. It knows I can, and have done, unmerciful things to it. It knows that if it tries to fly I will do unmerciful things again, but it trusts that if it does what I want, me, in my mercy, won’t harm it just because I can”.

Dr Gaul pulls her finger away, giving her full attention to Coriolanus.

“If I hurt it no matter what it did, why would it do what I want at all?”.

Her voice suddenly turns hard and low. Her eyes train on the blue bird as she speaks.

“You know it took me months to catch this bird. Stubborn, fast little thing. For the longest time it was my favorite pet I had ever owned”.

Her hands reach out and Coriolanus shuffles his hands lower so Dr Gaul could rest her fingers on its back while her thumbs scratches the bird's neck.

“Then I met Mabel”, with the pressure of her thumbs on the birds neck, she snaps the bone.

Coriolanus should have released the dead bird but felt too shocked to let go of its limp body.

“It pales in comparison”, Dr Gaul rises from her seat and Coriolanus throws the dead bird on the table.

“I do hope our little one on one enlightened you, Mr Snow. Mabel is too rare for you to fail”.

Coriolanus remains sat at the table, staring at the once beautiful bird as Dr Gaul moves on with her day.

Once the initial shock wears off, he rises from his seat and makes his way to his office with an unbothered demeanor.

His head reeled, however. It was clear Dr Gaul wanted to get her hands on Mabel.

She wanted Coriolanus to fail so she could swoop in. But Coriolanus never failed at anything.

Dr Gaul couldn’t have Mabel. She belongs firmly, and utterly to Coriolanus Snow.

He would get Mabel to realise that sooner, or later.

He headed over to the training center after work.

He wanted to get a start with the young boy so he would be ready for the interview.

Coriolanus would play on the heartstrings of the Capitol people. Get them to pour money on the soon to be dead child to make his existence less miserable until he was killed off.

His product came in a cute package, all Coriolanus had to do was feed the young boy a script and the Capitol people would eat out the palm of his hand.

He requested a room alone with the child. They were given the tv room which was large and filled with furniture.

The young boy was kept in chains despite his small frame.

He looked afraid as he entered the room to see the tall and well dressed man that Coriolanus was.

The Peacekeeper pushed him through the door. Coriolanus asks the peacekeeper to leave him and his tribute in peace.

“Hello, James” Coriolanus greets the child as the door is shut.

It didn’t work to ease the boy who kept a long distance and a frightened look.

“I am Coriolanus Snow, and I will be helping you prepare for your interview next week”.

“Interview?’ the young boy asks, “I don’t want to”.

He looked like he was going to cry. His voice broke, and he held his head up to keep back the tears.

“It’ll help you in the Games. People will send you gifts. If you do well enough, I might even be able to get you sweets and chocolate to enjoy”.

A little mercy while he waits to be slaughtered.

The little boy shakes his head. The tears now spill from his eyes fast and fat down his face.

Coriolanus reaches for a handkerchief he always keeps and takes a step forward to give it to the boy.

James jumps back as Coriolanus approaches.

“We are not strangers, you and I”, Coriolanus said.

The boy looks at him in wonder. Not knowing what to expect next.

“I’ve heard all about you from Mabel. Do you remember Mabel, your neighbor?” he asks softly.

The young boy nods his head, bringing his chained hands to rub the tears from his eyes.

“She’s asked me to help you”, it wasn’t entirely a lie, “and you trust Mabel don’t you?”.

The little boy nods again. Coriolanus moves forward to take the young boys chin and wipe his face with the handkerchief.

“Her and I are friends. Which makes me and you friends”, he places the handkerchief back in his breast pocket as he talks in a soft and slow voice, “She’s asked me to help you get as much chocolate as i can. And for me to do that, you need to listen to every word I say, and do exactly as I command, Okay?”.

“Will Mabel-” Coriolanus knew the boy’s question would end asking to see Mabel which he wouldn’t allow happen, so he spoke quickly over him.

‘Mabel will be watching the interview. So we must make her proud”.

The boy settles under the name of a friend, and Coriolanus sits him on the couch to go over the interview.

Coriolanus critiqued everything. From the boy's tone of voice, to how he sat. The boy was receptive. Quickly adjusting to how Coriolanus wanted him to be. That being as small and cute as possible.

Coriolanus soon had enough and with a promise that he would bring chocolate when he visited again, so the boy would know what he was performing for, he left to return to Mabel.

When he returned home the sound of music irritated him.

He followed it to a spare room down the hall. It was mostly a junk room. He remembered he had stored an old music player there just in case he ever needed it for company.

Careful to make no noise, he pushes the door slightly ajar so he could peek through.

Mabel was dancing like she did back in 12. Spinning round and round. Swaying her dress around her as her bare feet thud against the floorboards beneath her.

Despite her circumstances, she moved her body to music she did not like.

She was trying to fit one of lucy-greys old songs to the tune but was making a mess of it with her timing and out of breath voice.

‘Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling, clementine. You are lost and gone forever. Dreadful sorry, clementine” she sings out of tune.

Coriolanus remembered the song. Remembered watching Lucy-Grey dressed up in the nicest rags she had, and too much make-up to sing it up on stage. The song sounded much nicer coming from her lips, but Mabel looked much better signing it.

She spins away, planting her back to the door as she dances with someone not there. Coriolanus takes the distraction to push through the door and make his way to the music player.

He picks the box up and smashes it against the floor. The music makes an awful static noise as it is killed.

Mabel spins back to him. She doesn’t look shocked or startled. Instead a playful and amused expression still dances across her face.

“You could have changed the song” she remarks.

From the top of her gown he could see the harsh, red lines from the cane. She must have been in pain but yet insisted on dancing.

“Dr Gaul asked about you today” he says in a calm manner.

“Good for her”. Mabel keeps her distance across the room like the small boy did.

“Not good for you. You realize I can’t protect you from her”, he admits, “You think I am bad, you have no idea what Dr Gaul is”.

“Scared of her Coryo?” Mabel taunts, “I am not. I’ll protect you”.

“You should be”, Coriolanus argues.

‘‘She can’t do nothing to me that hasn’t already been done”, Mabel spat.

“She can do things to you that you couldn’t even imagine”.

“Let her. What have I got to lose?”. Mabel storms past him out the door, heading back down the hall.

There it is.

She had nothing to lose, everything was already taken from her. Her family, friends, passions, bodily autonomy.

Coriolanus follows her to the living room.

“You should know I’ve ordered Peacekeepers to retrieve your sister from district 12”.

Mabel spins so fast her hair sweeps across her face.

Finally her annoying smug look is replaced with pure dread.

Coriolanus sighs deeply, and shrugs his shoulders.

“What have you got to lose Mabel? Nothing. What do you have to gain? Your sister's life”.

“You’re lying” she states in a tone almost wishing.

Coriolanus shakes his head. “I’ve figured you out Mabel. You’re a glutton for punishment. Dare I say you enjoy it. The more I push you, the harder you push back. But that boy at the reaping…You wouldn’t have begged for your own life but you begged for his”.

Mabel for the first time is silent as the information rushes over her. Coriolanus feels a stinging sensation of power run through him.

“When she arrives, she’ll be placed in an apartment in the building complex for easy access, and every time you step out of line, she’ll suffer. Every time you’re good, she’ll eat”.

He steps closer to her so that they were almost touching. He towers over her, his neck craning so he can look her in the eyes as he speaks.

“I am doing this to protect you. Dr Gaul would ruin you” he promises.

Mabel spits in his face. He feels the warm, wet saliva trickle down.

His eyes close in anger but he begins to laugh.

She was beat. She knew it too.

Instead of a slap, her hand reaches up to wipe the spit away.

“I am sorry” she said, ‘I didn’t mean that”.

Coriolanus opens his eyes to find Mabel looking rightfully worried.

“Please just let her go. I’ll be good”, she promises, “You’ve made your point”.

Coriolanus reaches up to take her face in his hands, yanking her up on her tippy toes so he didn’t have to look so far down.

“You’re so beautiful Mabel”, his thumbs brush against her cheekbones, before moving up to her eyes.

She closes them so he can brush his thumbs against her long eyelashes. She doesn’t open them as he runs them over her eyebrows and down across her lips.

“What a prize you’ll be once your fire is stowed. She called you a rebellion in itself today, and she was right. Who wouldn’t fight for you?”.

“My sister-” she begins but stops herself knowing nothing she could say would sway his mind.

Her eyes remain closed. Not daring to look. It was the first time Coriolanus felt like he had control over Mabel.

How he wished Dr Gaul could see him. He wouldn’t fail. She couldn’t have his Mabel.

“Your sister” Coriolanus repeats, “Do you think you could be good for her?”.

Mabel nods in his hands, eyes still closed.

With his hold on her, he brings her head forward to whisper in her ear.

“Why don’t you put that saliva to good use?”.

He feels the weight of her drop in his hands as she lowers herself to her knees in front of him.

Coriolanus Snow, future president of Panam, and king of mercy.

It was Saturday. A supposed day off for Coriolanus but his mind raced with potential questions that may be asked of James.

He could go later to advise the boy and ensure he had a suitable answer for each question, but for now he forced himself to enjoy laying in bed.

It was late, Coriolanus had never remained in bed, unless he was sick, past seven.

Now the clock almost hits ten and he makes no move to rise.

Mabel lay’s on his chest, covered in nothing but a thin sheet.

Coriolanus had awoken well before seven at which point he had woken Mabel with the weight of his body curled around her, and kisses that spoke of his need.

Her mind too, seemed to race as she lay there.

“What color hair does my sister have?”, she asks.

“What?” Coriolanus asks as Mabel rises from his hold, bringing the thin sheet with her.

“It’s occurred to me that I have taken you at nothing but your word. You are a liar and a thief. How do I know you really have my sister?”.

Coriolanus’s wonderful morning was now ruined. Mabel had been so perfect the past few days and now the spell had been broken.

He rises from the bed, going over to his wardrobe to get dressed as he speaks.

“Do you want to see her?” He offers.

“Yes”, Mabel commands.

Dropping the sheet, she hurriedly dresses in the same green dress she always wears.

Coriolanus takes his time, flipping through his large wardrobe to find a shirt.

Mabel pushes past him, grabbing the first shirt she sees and shoving it at Coriolanus.

He backhands her for it and she tumbles to the ground in a heap.

“I was going to say we could bring her breakfast but it seems neither of you will be eating this morning”, he taunts.

This time she waits on the floor for him to choose a shirt. He lays it on the bed before going back to pick pants and shoes.

When he begins to dress into his pants, Mabel rises from the floor and takes the hem of his pants into her hands.

He lets her do so, dropping his hands to his side and watching her under a curious gaze.

She helps him dress into his shirt and shoes. She never once looks at him and he never once looks away.

He knew that she was trying to dress him as fast as she could so she could see her sister. But there's a domestication to it that Coriolanus loved.

He leaves the room wordlessly and she follows him out of the apartment and into the elevator. He only stops to grab his coat and keys. Mabel knew it would only be a quick visit before he left for the day.

Level 3, she commits to memory.

Coriolanus seemed too relaxed to be showing her. He seemed almost bored to be showing her.

Mabel knew that Coriolanus had her sister. She didn’t know that he would be so quick to show it. She had prepared herself for a series of nagging before he relented and either showed her where her sister was kept or brought her sister up to her.

Knowing where her sister was kept was the first step in forming a plan to get her out. Coriolanus gave it up too easy.

He was a smart man but too egotistical.

A week of playing docile and he had forgotten the threat Mabel posed.

The third level opened to a long hall but only one door. She followed Coriolanus to it where he dug through his pocket for his keys.

Finding the right one he held it out for Mabel to take. She takes careful note of which key it was and inserts it in the lock.

“After you” he states.

Mabel felt as if she could throw up as she twisted the key in the lock.

The apartment is empty and for a second she thinks Coriolanus had played a terrible joke on her.

He pushes her into the apartment and the door locks behind them.

“Livy!” Mabel called for her sister, “Livy!”.

A shuffling noise is held and a small body dashes out from a cupboard.

Mabel drops to her knees to retrieve her sister who shoots into her arms.

Her name could be heard from her sister's small voice between large sobs.

“It’s okay” Mabel promises, “Oh god’.

Livy was barely 6 and could easily be picked up by Mabel who distanced her and her sister from Coriolanus.

“I’ve never lied to you, Mabel,” Coriolanus stated.

Mabel nods, “No, you haven’t”.

“So let’s go”, he nods back to the door.

Mabel walks to the door with her sister in her arms but is stopped by Coriolanus.

“I can’t leave her”, Mabel begs.

“Find a way”, he retorts.

Mabel knew it was for the best. She could figure a way to get her sister out. The Penthouse was too secure.

Coriolanus was too preoccupied with keeping Mabel there.

Escape was impossible there but a level unguarded and only one lock to get through? Mabel could get through that.

She places her sister down despite her screaming. A plan was already forming in her head.

“I’ll be back” she promises. She wipes the tears away from her sisters eyes and places a kiss on her head.

“You’re safe and I’ll be back”, she reiterated.

Livly grabs hold of Mabel's leg, begging her to stay and take her home.

Mabel tries words, bending down and rubbing her sisters back as she spoke.

Coriolanus, tired of the scene, used force to separate the two.

Mabel tries to fight off his hold from her sister, to pull her close once more but Coriolanus tore her from Mabel’s grip and took the squirming girl over to the couch where she was thrown on the soft cushions.

Mabel followed close behind so as soon as his hands were free of Livy, he took hold of Mabel’s arm and pushed her back out the door.

The little girls cries could be heard from behind the door. It was an unbearable minute that it took for Coriolanus to remove the key from the lock and retreat back to the elevator.

The big metal door shut out the sound completely, but brought Mabel back to the front entrance of her prison.

The security measures were more complex and Mabel stood stunned while Coriolanus went through them all.

The door finally opened and Mabel was flung inside.

Despite her sadness and anger, Mabel did not cry as she was tossed to the hard floor.

She rolls on her back and looks up to the high ceiling forming a plan in her head.

—-------------------

Coriolanus spends the rest of the day with the boy.

He had forgotten the chocolate promised.

The boy took the news hard, but sensing that Coriolanus was already irritated he kept his disappointment to himself.

They went over questions that Coriolanus formed. Even spent an hour just practicing the walk from the curtain to the stage.

Everything was crucial to the performance. One mistake could cost Coriolanus having the most popular tribute.

Coriolanus was nothing if not a perfectionist.

The other Game makers visited their tributes at the training house. A Saturday couldn’t be wasted with friends and family. Not if Dr Gaul was involved.

Still they broke for lunch at an expensive restaurant in the city. Coriolanus was glad for the distraction.

They spoke of the impossible task of making the tributes ready for the interview.A few even spoke of their persona they were going to push.

No one but Coriolanus wanted their tribute to seem weak. James would have no problem standing out.

The news lightened Coriolanus who stopped by the shops on the way back to the training house to pick up the chocolate promised to the boy.

When he did return home, the smell of burning filled his nose.

He rushed to the kitchen where pots could be heard clanging together.

Mabel was there, covered in flour and bending to take a burnt cake from the oven.

“What are you doing?” he asks angrily.

“Oh you’re home” Mabel says in a soft voice, “I am sorry. I didn’t hear the door open”.

She places the cake next to several others. All of them were no good. Burnt, sagged, or an off color.

With her hands free she walks over to Coriolanus wiping her hands on her dress and taking his coat from his shoulders.

“I wanted to have something nice for you to eat when you got home, but I have never been a good cook. And that was with ingredients and kitchen stuff I knew”.

“Don’t over-exert yourself. I have no need for you to cook” he says cautiously, watching her hang up his coat.

“I know”, she states turning to look at him, “I just wanted to show you that I have changed. I’ve been thinking all day how foolish I’ve been”.

She walks slowly over to him, ringing her hands together.

“If I wasn’t so foolish, Livy wouldn’t be here”, she continued, stopping in front of Coriolanus.

“I mean really I didn’t even mind that”, she doesn’t finish her sentence but looks up at Coriolanus.

“I didn’t really mind you. But I fought against you anyway and it cost my parents both of their daughters”.

“And you thought cake would solve that?” he mocks.

“From where I am from, cake is how we show remorse” she wraps her arms around his stiff frame.

He didn’t let her remain, pulling her hands away just after they landed.

“I have work to do. Clean up your mess”, he demand.

Coriolanus locks himself in his study. He could feel his resolve slipping as she buttered him up. It was important now, more than ever, that he remained in charge. But she had a funny way of turning his knees weak.

He avoided her until dinner where they ate in silence.

She tried to make conversation with him. Batting her eyelashes like he used to watch her do to other men.

He slightly enjoyed watching her try to gain his attention. As a peacekeeper he used to beg for it to happen every night at the Hobb.

His ignorance of her, only grew her attempts. She sat next to him and not across from him. Asked him question after question until she realized she wouldn’t get an answer.

“Coriolanus, I am trying” she finally said.

He ignored her still, taking a piece of bread from the table.

“Hey” she complained. Her hand reached out to touch his chest and he dropped the piece of bread to grab her wrist.

Not touch. One thing he couldn’t ignore was her touching him.

It felt like fire every time. He longed for it, he couldn’t ignore it.

He shoves her hand away, quickly rising from the chair and storming off.

He took a shower alone. Something he hadn’t done for a while now.

Of course, he was going to give in to Mabel and her new way. He would be crazy not to.

But watching her pine for him as he had pined for her was satisfying.

Once again the order of things was returning.

When he returned to the bedroom he saw her laying on the bed in his nightwear. The oversized bed shirt and old boxes that slipped down her frame.

She was doing her homework. She doesn’t look up at him or speak as he enters the room.

He scoffs quietly, now she is sulking.

He picks up the book he is currently reading and enters the bed without a word.

They remain like that with Mabel doing her work and Coriolanus reading his book.

He gets four chapters in before Mabel disturbs him by thrusting her paper over his book.

“Do you want to check it?” she asks. Normally he would and her nightmare lesson would begin again until she got it.

He knocks the paper out off the road with his book so he could return to his reading.

“No,” he states.

“Good. I am pretty sure it’s wrong” she jests.

She throws the paper to the ground which was something Coriolanus would normally scold her for but he can’t ignore her if he is scolding her.

He also can’t ignore her when she places her body across his legs.

She lays on top of him. Her head reaches his stomach where she pushes up the fabric of his pajama shirt and places three small kisses on his stomach.

His eyes shut briefly from the thrill of it. His stomach tied in knots under her.

The book is moved to the left, it hangs loosely in his hand over the bed.

Without the book blocking her, she grins at Coriolanus. Knowing how irresistible she was.

His spare hand reaches down to cup the back of her head, looking down at her in disbelief.

Her fingers loop around the waistband of his pants, wordlessly asking for permission. It’s given when he raises his hips to accommodate her and the book drops from his hand.

Coriolanus sleeps soundly that night.

Mable had given him a massage after riding him long and hard.

She was surprised by how quickly he had fallen asleep. His hair splayed out across the pillow as he lay on his stomach, his hands under his pillow as Mabel digs her hands into the mussels of his shoulders.

She snaps her fingers a few times in his ear to ensure he was asleep before sliding off him and dressing in his dressing gown.

As slightly as she can she sneaks down the hallway to where he kept his keys by the front door. The door in front of her required more than a key to get in so he felt no threat leaving them there.

She slides out the draw of the hallway cupboard to retrieve the key she hid earlier. It was the closest match she could find.

It wouldn’t fool him if he looked but she would just have to make sure he never looked.

The key to her sisters door is taken off and the decoy is returned in its place.

She moves to the kitchen next, taking out the wet cake mixture from the fridge and sinking the key to the bottom. The cake was small; it would only take a few cuts to find it.

Slowly and carefully to avoid making noise she places the cake in the oven and sits in front of it watching it bake.

Coriolanus woke with the feeling of his hair being pushed back.

His eyes flick open to see Mabel laying on her side next to him. A heavenly sight to see first thing.

He had almost convinced himself it was all a dream last night.

“Morning. The kitchen staff need to be let into the knife draw. He keeps pointing at it”, she says.

He rolls over to check the clock. Quarter to 8.

He shouldn’t have slept in. No matter how peaceful his sleep was.

With a groan he rolls out of bed and Mabel jumps down next to him.

“I told them to prepare the food downstairs,” He said, annoyed.

He notices she was wearing his dressing gown. It incites a need to have it for himself. To feel her warmth against his body.

He spins her by her shoulders so he could slide the dressing gown off and put it around himself.

She makes no complaints as he does so. Running back to the wardrobe to get another to protect herself from the cold.

“Put your slippers on. It's cold this morning” he demands but does not follow the same advice.

Coriolanus had so many clothes and shoes it made it hard to find anything among it, but eventually she finds her slippers wedged between the cupboard wall and a shoe rack.

She turns to find Coriolanus had left the room. She follows him to the kitchen where a frightened chef watches as Coriolanus unlocked the knife drawer.

“Don’t let it happen again” he warns the Chef who nods his head in agreement.

His eyes shoot out at Mabel as if she was a traitor but surely he must realize who the knife drawer was locked from.

Coriolanus stayed in the kitchen until the Chef was done, and another servant washed, dried and returned the knife so the drawer could be locked once more.

Mabel waves at her friend as the girl rushes past to plate up the food.

No wave is returned, but Mabel smiles anyway. From the corner of her eye she could see Coriolanus glance at his keys with a curious expression.

She dashes over taking hold of his arm and tugging him forward.

It worked to distract him. The keys were placed down and he willingly followed Mabel to the table.

“You’re in a good mood this morning” he comments.

She pushes him into the chair by his shoulders and climbs on top of him.

“You’re in a bad mood this morning” she replied, “can’t say that’s ever happened to me before”.

Her fingers card through his hair and he leans back into his chair.

“I bet it hasn’t” he remarks.

The servants come to display the food on the table. Coriolanus takes his hands from her waist expecting her to get up but she remains.

She does swing her legs out from either side of him so she was sat on one side.

Thanking them as they place the food, Mabel reaches out for a bacon strip and eats half of it before offering it to Coriolanus.

He denies being fed. Leaning forward himself to plate his own food.

Did she think he was a fool? He thought to himself. Was she deluded enough to think Coriolanus would buy this change of heart act?

She played the part for the benefit of her sister, he understood that.

Still felt somewhat rewarding to reap the benefit of his hard work, so he was hesitant to call her on it.

She yawns as he reaches for his cup of coffee.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” he asks her before taking a sip.

Mabel thinks back to the cake with a sly smile.

“Best night sleep I’ve had in a while actually”, she answers honestly.

Mabel looked best when she had just woken. Coriolanus had always thought so.

Her hair was wild and messy, her eyes were heavy still carrying sleep, and her lips were always so plump and red. She must bite them either as soon as she wakes up or during the night.

She takes his cup from his hand, bringing it to her lips to have a taste.

“Uh, I don’t know how you drink that”, she complains putting it back on the table.

“You’ll get used to it”, he says, “You seem to get used to things quite fast with proper motivation”.

A tense smile pulls on Mabel's lips, and she averts her eyes to the table.

“Has she eaten today?” Mabel asks.

“She eats at seven every morning. Good food. Proper food. Not district slop”.

Mabel turns her head back to him, bringing her lips to the point they were hovering over his.

“Well, how can I thank you?”. Her words carried ill-intent. He would hear the disdain in her voice as she spat them from her mouth.

“You can get off me so I can get ready for the day”. An almost perfect morning, ruined by acknowledgement of the large elephant in the room.

As he walks back to the bedroom he wishes that he refrained from taking the jab at her. Who cared if she was acting the fool? At least she was acting like his fool.

When he enters the room dressed for the day it seemed Mabel was back to her new self.

She stood as he enters the room.

“You’re leaving already?” she asks.

“Yes” was his short reply.

“Wait” she calls as he heads towards the door.

He halts in his spot, watching her run into the crowded kitchen.

It startles the servants as she shoots pass them

She takes the cake from the fridge, the parchment under it reading “level 3. Find her”.

There was only hope that it would get to Mrs plinth and even more hope that she would go against her husband to follow through.

Still she was Mabel’s only chance. Ma plinth was a good person. Still district- still human.

She was sure to listen to a desperate plea.

She takes the two plates and pass the servants who squashed themselves to stay out of her way.

Coriolanus watches her bring the cakes out from the kitchen.

“One for Ma” she raises the smallest cake tin, “and one for Dr Gaul”.

“Cakes?” Coriolanus questions fixing his tie.

“Apologies” Mabel reminds him, “just make sure you don’t mix the two. Ma has a district recipe that won’t be appreciated by Dr Gaul”.

Coriolanus sighs he wanted to say no but the last 24 hours had been so nice.

Ma was just below him and he would see Dr Gaul at work. Maybe the cake would serve as a pointer to his good work.

So he takes the cakes from her hands.

She points once more to the cakes, “Ma. Dr Gaul” she reiterates.

Coriolanus nods, going to leave her.

She catches his face between her hands to stop him, reaching up on her tippy toes to kiss him.

He freezes. He wanted to kiss back but by the time he could gain control of himself again she was pulling back.

She tabs his hands as she spoke to indicate as she was talking, “Ma. Dr Gaul”.

“I understand” he assures.

“Good”, she grins, “I’ll see you when you get home”.

The thought made Coriolanus feel giddy.

He leans down to kiss her once more. Half of him didn’t want to go to work but he was determined that Mabel would not stray him from his path.

Mabel sees him to the door and waves him off

“Please, please, please” she mutters under her breath.

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#coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #dead dove do not eat #snow lands on top #tom blyth #commander snow

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candyswirls · 3 days ago

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Space Marine Cuddle Pile PT 2

Continuation of this.

@wolf-feathers12 you owe me fifty cookies and I’m gluten free

Imagine:

Titus is not quite new anymore to the watch. He’s slowly opening up to his squad mates but still is apprehensive. The mission has been a success and his squad wants to celebrate. They worked well together. But Titus does not wish to participate. He is bitter and mournful. News that the Primarch, Roboute Guilliman, had returned came through a few days ago. He was overjoyed at hearing that. But he doesn’t get to celebrate. Not when he’s dishonored his chapter. Not when he’s a black shield. Not when he can’t celebrate with his brothers. Before he can go to the training cages, a squad mate pulls him back, not taking no for an answer. He may have not told them his chapter and was using another name but they can tell how hard the last few days have been. Rather than celebrating they all huddle together, one with another. They miss each of their chapters and brothers. But they can find comfort in one another. It’s a moment of reprieve for the ex-captain’s broken heart.

As an Emperors’ children you are far more prone to cuddling than one might think. You were always underestimated. Many scoffed at your legion and chalked you up to pompous and egotistical men. Some of that was true but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Even more hurtful was the rejection of your Primarch. He didn’t want you or your brothers. He would not lead. You all were so desperate that some followed his clone when he showed up. You’re all scattered and trying what you can to make Fulgrim proud and have him return. Sometimes the rejection hurts so much you’ll curl up together in a pile. Pretending the weight is your Primarch, welcoming you back and saying that you’ve done well. That you’re worthy of his love. Those who are a part of war bands tend to be flock to bigger Astartes. Craving large and warm arms to wrap around you and say it’s okay. You’re not useless or worthless. You’re not an object or disposable.

Little known fact about Iron Warriors. You will cuddle anyone but your own legion. You’re so touch starved and refuse to ask for it due to how the chapter is. Cuddling your brothers? Revolting. Your Primarch won’t do it. Cold and refusing to show any weakness. But the minute any other traitor Astartes wants to start a pile or even a daemon or cultist request a hug, you’re there. You will not say anything and you’re definitely not saying no. You will just join in. If you see a cuddle pile you won’t ask, you’re suddenly in the middle. Emperor’s Children tend to like Iron Warrior’s for this reason. Might as well write “Free Hugs” on the back of their armor.

Newly joined Blood Angels feeling the psychic wound of their genefathers death. The looming of the red thirst and the chance of falling to the black rage. Their new brothers hold them in a large mass. Safe and warm to let them know that they’re not alone. They all feel the pain. They all mourn their father and fallen brethren. They all share it. So they share their hugs and affection.

Black Templars having massive sermons where the chaplain gets emotional and they all hold one another as they recite prayers. Hold each other up. Being strong like Dorn. Their Primarch isn’t here but they are here for each other.

Night Lords will cram themselves into dark and tight places to hide, entangled in each other’s arms. Their Primarch was mad and didn’t care for them. They have to care for each other. Everything they do is vile and violent. Except for this. Ever so gentle touches, protective embraces, the most tender of running hands through hair, gentle head butting. They are one of the most affectionate legions but only with each other. Silent as they relish in each other’s deep rooted sadness and hatred for themselves and solace of being with one another.

Lorgar finally has a moment of silence as the word bearers are escorted away from Monarchia by the Ultramarines. The emperor’s wrath had been fierce. He ends up dropping to his knees and pulling his closest son into an embrace. The others around him move forward without thinking. He pulls so many into his arms, has them laying their heads on his shoulders and back. Pressing their cheeks and foreheads to his own as he cries prayers he wrote. They were innocent! Loyal to him! He had done this for him! All that work! It was a gift! A tribute! He just burned it away! Killed them all. Rejected it. He’s in so much pain and anger but having his sons close eases it a bit.

Magnus clings to his sons. They don’t react as dust swirls within the armor. Foolish stupid Ahriman. He had managed to save the remaining few and bring them into the warp. Relieved that they all weren’t dead. This seemed worse though. He presses a kiss to the top of one’s helmet, praying that there’s some bit of conscious in there. Those that were unaffected are huddled behind him as his new wings caress them.

He wasn’t very affectionate. Mortarion had grown up shying away from it and he rarely indulged in cuddle piles. But after so many had died from horrid plagues and sicknesses, he had to pledge himself to Nurgle. It didn’t matter though. His sons were saved and himself. He had sat himself on the ground and big then to come forth. Some were nuzzled into his side, a few rested their heads on his torso. He was surrounded by his sons. Safe. He didn’t care what it had taken or what would happen next.

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synthetickitsune · 22 hours ago

Text

Full Stomach, Full Heart ✧ w.jh

Pairing: Wen Junhui x reader (gn) Genre: angst, hints of comfort Summary: What was the last thing you ate, actually? Yet better question would be when was the last time you ate a full, nutritious meal. You don’t think you can remember though. And you know Jun will hate to hear it. Word count: 2.2k Warnings: food struggles, mentions of reader not eating properly

You feel something’s wrong within the first hour after waking up. Deeply wrong, but you’re equally deep in denial, so you write it off as a side effect of getting up too early and immediately scrolling on your phone, so you go back to sleep. When you wake up again, you’re not really sure you slept at all. Somehow, though, the time has passed too quickly for you to just be spacing out in bed. You need to get up.

The feeling is still there, a weight on your chest and your mind feels like it’s clouded by a thick fog. Your bones feel heavy. Just standing feels uncomfortable and draining. You get some water and crawl back into bed. A text from your boyfriend is waiting for you, wishing you a good morning and asking if you’ve eaten yet. Your stomach churns at the idea of eating, so you ignore the text in favor of more sleep.

Only sleep just won’t come. Not for long anyway. It’s all brief flashes of unconsciousness that leave you disoriented and tired once you wake up. Switching between unsuccessful attempts of napping and mindless scrolling on your phone, with some spacing out on the side, time passes. You try to make yourself get up again and do something, try to guilt yourself into being productive, all without result. Nothing works, nothing feels right.

You can’t tell what’s wrong exactly, but somehow it feels like everything is. It makes you upset, most of all with yourself. There is nothing that needs to get done, however you can come up with a list of a hundred things that you could get done if only you dragged yourself out of bed. There’s no reason you should be like this, you tell yourself. It is what it is, you tell yourself next and close your eyes again.

Without your permission, time passes. It slips away from you, then forcefully reminds you of its existence when your phone starts to ring.

It’s Jun.

“Hey,” you whisper. You hope he heard over the commotion around him. Suddenly you realize you really hate people today. Staying in bed seems even more appealing. Nobody is going to bother you here.

“Are you alright?” Jun cuts straight to chase. His voice is kind but laced with worry. “You never responded to my text.”

Oh. Shit.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess I am,” you hesitate a little, “Just don’t feel too good.”

You can see the frown on his face when you close your eyes and focus on the brief pause. The background noise, the voices, get distant and quiet. Somewhere on the other end of the line, a door clicks shut.

“‘Not good’ as in…?” he asks and you sigh. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you regret being honest in the first place. Just a little. But then again if you haven’t told him, he’d drive himself crazy with worry and that’s the last thing he needs during practice.

“I just don’t feel much of anything,” you admit, “I’m just really tired. I don’t want to do anything, don’t wanna talk to anyone.”

He hums in sympathy. It makes something warm flicker in your chest. You can imagine the hug he’d give you if he was here - enveloping, like the world doesn’t exist, his hand cradling your head, the other on the small of your back pulling you close with just the perfect amount of force. He’d hold you until something made him let go, and then still kiss you and promise to be right back.

“I’m sorry I called,” he whispers, “I just got worried.”

“No, I don’t mind you,” you reassure him even as every word drains more energy out of your already exhausted body, “You don’t count.”

“Why thank you,” you hear the smile in his voice. It’s natural for you to smile as well without thinking, if only you had the energy too. Regret wells up in your chest, even though Jun won’t know about this little turmoil. “Have you eaten?”

Your heart pauses for a beat. The answer is clear, but what was the last thing you ate, actually? Probably just instant noodles or something like that. Better question would be when was the last time you ate a full, nutritious meal. You don’t think you can remember though. And you know Jun will hate to hear it.

“...no,” you admit quietly. You curl under the blanket. He might get disappointed and worried but he won’t yell at you, you know that, yet it still feels uncomfortable. The silence drags on and leaves you suspended in anxiety. You beg him to talk inside your head, to say anything - to snap at you, anything will do. Just not the silence.

“y/n, it’s so late…” he says and you know he’s not scolding you, that he’s as gentle as he can be, but it still sounds like you’re getting scolded.

“I know,” you murmur, “I’m not hungry though.”

It’s an understatement. The idea of eating itself makes your stomach churn. And maybe it’s hunger in disguise, maybe. Most likely. You know you should eat. Food feels repulsive, though.

“You need to eat,” he insists, quietly, still gentle. You can hear the change in his voice when he adds: “I’ve been busy a lot, huh?”

“Jun…” you shake your head, “It’s not your fault. I need to take care of myself.”

“I want to be there for you when you’re not feeling well,” there’s a moment where his voice gets higher. You can imagine the lightbulb appearing above his head and it makes you slightly concerned. “I’m gonna help.”

“Wait, no-”

“Shh, no arguing,” he shushes you. You can hear his voice get more distant. “I’ll order you some food. A lot of it. So you can choose.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna see anyone. Please. I promise I’ll eat later, just not now,” you try to change his mind. It’s pointless, you’re well aware that Jun is the most stubborn when your wellbeing is concerned. The silence on the other end of the line, occasionally broken by tapping noises as your boyfriend’s fingers dance across the screen, tells you resistance is hopeless. Still you try.

“I don’t want to go anywhere to pick up the food. I won’t even go downstairs,” you warn him,

“I won’t pick up the phone if anyone calls. I won’t talk to anyone,” you sulk.

“Jun, please forget about it-”

“Will you cook?” he interrupts you, a slight edge to his voice. You shrivel under the blanket.

“No but-”

“Are there any leftovers you can heat up?”

“No, Jun-”

“Don’t ‘no Jun’ me,” he sighs, “I’m gonna figure this out, okay? Don’t worry.”

Before you can ask for an explanation, beg him to let it go, anything, he hangs up. You groan and pull at your hair. It’s pointless to argue with Jun, however, and although you’re frustrated you know you can trust him. So you return to numbly lying on bed.

It’s some time later that you’re woken up - from sleep or daydreaming, you have no idea - by a text. You frown and pick up the phone, already annoyed. Who dares to bother you now?

Joshua: hey i’m downstairs so don’t get creeped out when i come in with the food

Joshua: if you're awake

Joshua: if not - sorry! ><

…what?

You don’t have much time to process what’s happening before you hear the code being put in and the doors opening. You’re tempted to pretend you’re not home but also what the fuck is he doing here? Taking a quick look at Jun’s messy hoodie and sweats you’re wearing, you ultimately decide that it’s not your fault Joshua’s going to see you like this. He came in uninvited. So much for not talking to anyone. You get up and groggily walk out of the room and look for the intruder.

You find him in the kitchen… putting food containers on the table?

“Hey,” he greets you softly with a friendly smile without pausing his actions.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, confusion written all over your face. Your arms are wrapped around your body protectively. Joshua doesn’t even look at you as he meticulously takes everything out of the bag.

“That’s my line. You should be in bed” he chuckles. Finally he looks up and upon seeing you don’t get the situation at all, he shakes his head with a small laugh.

“Jun said you’re not feeling well,” he explains, “So he asked if anyone could bring you food while you rest. Are you okay to eat now or should I put it in the fridge?”

You stop yourself from screaming aloud. And sighing. And hitting your head against the wall.

“Thank you,” you say instead, “It really wasn’t necessary.”

“No problem,” Joshua smiles at you again, “So?”

“I’ll eat in a bit,” you decide, relaxing slightly. You don’t feel like eating if you’re being honest but you also think the nausea starting to kick in is caused by hunger at this point. You should make yourself eat. Somehow.

“Okay. Do you need anything else? Medicine, dessert?” he jokes and you roll your eyes at him even though the target should really be Junhui.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you try to smile at him despite your irritated mood. You make a mental note to thank Joshua again and apologize later because he leaves as quickly as he came. You should also talk to your boyfriend about using his friends as couriers.

Speaking of which…

Your phone rings again the moment you sit down and angrily stab the utensil into the closest container. You really can’t be bothered to use dishes that you’d have to wash later.

You accept the call and put your boyfriend on speaker.

“Hi… Joshua texted me he dropped off the food?” Jun sounds timid, careful almost.

“Yeah, he did,” you play with the food without raising any to your lips, “I hope you paid him.”

“No, but I owe him one,” he chuckles, still tense, “You know how he is.”

You hum. You do. But that still doesn’t mean your boyfriend should take advantage of his friend’s kindness to bring you food when he’s too busy. It’s not like any of them ever have too much time on their hands to be doing this.

“I… I just thought it would be okay this way,” his voice softens, “That you could avoid social interaction but still get the food delivered. I told Shua to leave you alone.”

You hum again. Not that you mind talking to Jun, he’s always the only exception, but you’re tired. And hungry, yet the idea of picking up the food, chewing, swallowing just seems so exhausting.

“I’m sorry,” Jun’s voice drops into a whisper, “But you need to eat.”

“I know,” you murmur, “And thank you. It’s just I really don’t feel like it even though I’m so hungry right now.”

It’s quiet on the other side for a moment, and then you hear him talking away from the phone - asking Soonyoung for a short break. You can’t hear what the response is but the next thing you hear is the door closing and Jun’s fast steps.

“What happened?” you ask, smiling a little as you imagine your boyfriend speeding through the corridors.

“I’ll facetime you in a bit, yeah? We can eat together,” his voice is full of determination and confidence that you don’t share.

“You’re going to eat in the middle of practice?” your eyebrow raises on its own.

“...Yes.”

There’s another slight pause.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Sure,” you chuckle. You still haven’t found the will to take a bite. Sharing a meal with Jun sounds nice, though. It’s highly unlikely it’s actually going to help with the predicament you’re in but the idea really is nice.

“You don’t have to eat much, I won’t either,” he coaxes you softly. You hear more doors opening and closing. Then something that sounds like a fridge and him rummaging around. “Just eat something, yeah?”

“I’ll try,” you promise.

“I’ll turn on the camera now,” Jun warns while he, at least judging by the sound, puts the food in the microwave.

You just admire his pretty face while he waits for the food to warm up and try to push down the nausea. It’s hunger, it must be. But it does nothing to help you feel like eating. Your boyfriend yaps on about his day so far, about the practice, whines a little about how hard the new choreo is. It’s soothing, comforting. Ultimately, though, it doesn’t help much.

New wave of guilt washes over you when he sits down with his food and looks at you hopefully. You need to eat. You really need to. If for no other reason, then at least so that he doesn’t worry and can fully focus on the practice.

Finally you force your hands to move, your lips to open and your jaws to chew the first bite. Jun’s bright smile feels much better than the food you swallow.

“There we go,” he whispers to himself, trying to bite back the smile as he digs into his own lunch. You hear it anyway.

You smile a little too as you fight against your head to share a meal with him.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader #jun x reader #svthub #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #svt angst #svt reactions #svt scenarios #jun angst #junhui angst #junhui x reader #junhui scenatios

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