#i don't think they will ever stop arguing about this lol
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smog & spirits: spirit-raiser
Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU
gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader
Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and you are the witch he has chosen to help him break it.
Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, begging, orgasm denial, fingering, p in v, no aftercare, sex magic, blood magic, potion for arousal, curses and hexes, witchcraft, possession, mediums, if you squint theres some plot, smoking, mention of death/violence/torture, mention of police brutality, vaguely british setting??, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything
Word Count: 8k
A/N: hey. don't ask. this idea came to me a few days ago and i wrote it all out in like two sessions at 2am. i want to write more for this, i have so many ideas for some more one-shot style interactions. this just got so long so quickly so i had to cut some stuff. sorry for any typos - not proof read and edited while half asleep lol.
main masterlist
You did not remember leaving your door unlocked.
The fog that settled over the smokey, portside district of Sootstone was suffocating. Despite it being only midday, the entire neighbourhood was cast into a muggy gloom. The sun could not break through the thick smog that comfortably nestled itself along the windy streets of The Warrens. The stench of smoke and fish hung heavy in the air, with sweaty dockworkers and dirty children darting between alleys. In your short journey to and from the small Sunday market, you had nearly been bowled over thrice by oblivious residents.
The Warrens, or Sootstone Port, as it was formally known, was not a pleasant place. Home to the working class and the rotted underbelly of the city of Blackstone. The high society chatters liked to forget such a place existed, as it was simply not a charming place to think about. Most worked the ports, ferrying in the sea trade. Others worked in the Smokestack district, manufacturing metal in factories that pumped ash and soot into the air. There were also the select few who turned to other trades, such as pubs, hotels, brothels, or even those who were forced into a life of joblessness on the streets.
The Warrens weren’t so imaginatively named. It was a clever joke among high-society gossipers that the poor fucked like rabbits and lived in their elaborate winding burrows, from which they rarely emerged for air. The people of Sootstone had accepted the insult, finding the whole metaphor rather hilarious. That was because the Warreners could take a joke, unlike the condescending crowd of high society. It could also be argued that the residents of The Warrens could not come up with a better metaphor, as most were not educated in any sense.
Perhaps the mixture of smog and that lack of an education had finally made it to your head. You were left standing, perplexed, as your front door swung open without so much of a nudge. The lock was normally a sticky one, leaving you to jiggle the knob and slam your shoulder against the frame until it came unstuck. Never in your two years of living in the tiny flat had you ever witnessed such a sight.
You would’ve thought it a miracle if it weren’t for the implications.
It was true that The Warrens were notorious for crimes. Theft, assault, and murder. Even if coppers paraded the streets, they weren’t truly there to stop criminals. No, they were more interested in beating any poor innocents that got in their way. It was better to find protection from vigilante gangs who roamed Sootstone’s streets, scrapping like stray dogs over territories. As much as those uninvolved in such business were afraid of them, they also respected them. Their deeds weren’t always motivated by blood and destruction; the gangs stood to protect their communities as no one else would.
Even if you and your surrounding neighbours were under the protection of Barnes’ Smog Boys, it was definitely still alarming to see a group of them gathered in your small kitchen.
“Lookie who's home.” One of the men cooed at the sight of you. He stood closest to the door, one hand tucked in his jacket pocket while the other fiddled with a toothpick that hung from his lips. His blond hair was slicked back, tucked under a flatcap. Steve Rogers. The Smog Boys right hand man. Next to him was Sam Wilson, his stocky form leaning against your rickety cupboards. His gaze was fixed on a silver pocket watch he had tightly secured in his left palm, a short chain draping across his vest. He glanced up at Steve’s words, a wicked smirk crossing his lips at the sight of you.
“Sunday market?” Sam queried, and you drew your woven basket closer. There was an unsettling sneer in his voice.
The Smog Boys were one of seven gangs that roamed the underbelly of Blackstone. Their territories lay in the fog of Sootstone Port and the smokey streets of the Smokestack district and The Warrens. You could commonly see them stalking the streets, dressed in all black with their flatcaps and slicked back hair. They moved through the smog like ghosts, navigating the twisting streets with an unnatural ease. Some called them ghouls; others called them saviours from the fog.
The final man, the worst of them all, was Bucky Barnes. He sat across from you, half obscured by your small dining table. He had laid a box of cigarettes and matches on the marked wood. One was smoking between his lips, his head angled down and cocked to one side, as he assessed you with a look of boredom. There was a terrifying edge of calculation in his gaze as he evaluated you. He was just as large as the other two men, with muscles poorly hidden beneath his black, tailored suit. His hair, similarly to Steve's, was slicked back, and the sides buzzed. A 5’oclock shadow ghosted his jawline, but overall, his appearance was unsettlingly neat.
Not a speck of ash or soot. As if he had just appeared within your flat, blinking into existence rather than having walked The Warrens like any other mere mortal.
You had never seen the man in person. No. If the Smog Boys were ghosts, Bucky certainly lived up to the name. He was an enigma, a haunting story whispered between children. He had clawed his way up to a position of power from the gutters of The Warrens, bloodshed and all. He was a notorious skirt-chaser, his handsome appearance and strong build drawing in women from all classes. Looking at him now, despite the terror congealing in your blood, you could understand the appeal.
“Why’re you here?” You ask hesitantly. Unlike the gangsters before you, you were not pristine by any means. Falling ash had coated your shoulders, staining the tartan fabric of the mantle draped over your shoulders. Your hair was swept up under a head scarf, which was also covered in a layer of soot and dust from the smokestacks. Even your worn leather boots were not safe; mud and filth caked onto the heels and sides. The streets of The Warren had never known any type of cleanliness.
“Come to introduce ourselves. Don’t think we’ve ever met before, ‘least I think I would’ave remembered a pretty face like yours.” Steve speaks up, a gleam in his eye. His tone is playful yet somehow cruel. The chuckle he and Sam share rattles you. The two of them were also said to try their luck with the women who crowded around, searching for the thrill of a gangster lover.
“You might’ave mistaken me for someone else… I’ve lived here two years now.” You speak with a continued caution. With precise movements, as to not brush either of the hulking men crowding the kitchen entrance, you place your basket on a nearby surface. Even the cloth that you have thrown over the items is coated in a layer of ash.
“We know.” Sam says, twisting his body. He lifts up the cloth, inspecting the food beneath. You know it is nothing exciting—some bread, fish, and vegetables. As well as a handful of sweets you gave to the children of your neighbour. You keep your mouth shut as Sam dips into the white and red striped paper bag and pops one of the sweets into his mouth with a satisfied hum.
Steve pushes himself off the wall, his jacket brushing against you. He was far taller than you, tall enough that he had to crane his neck down in order to whisper in your ear. “A lil’ birdy told us you’re a spirit-raiser.”
“I—No.” You stumble over your words, eyes darting between the three men. Bucky is still silent, still like a cat hunting a mouse. The gaze he assessed you with was one of a predator, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. He doesn’t crack a smile as the two men beside you laugh between themselves.
To fend off some anxious energy, you make quick work of unknotting your headscarf. Ash and dust flutter to the ground as you shake out the fabric, a frown etched across your features. You could not help but let your mind wonder to the stories you had heard growing up. You were a lifelong resident of The Warrens, only moving to live on your own after sickness claimed your mother. You father had passed long before that, lost to drink.
“What do you call yourself then? Hm?” Steve asks, breath hot against your cheek. You flinch as he pulls a fleck of ash from your hair. In the stories, they would speak of men with their tongues cut out. Bodies that were filled with bricks, then stitched back up and sunk to the bottom of the Sootstone Port. Men were found hanged from street lights, severely beaten, with sections of skin along their thighs and chest peeled off with a blade. And those were only the bodies coppers found.
“I prefer witch.” You correct, brows furrowing. Your head turns to look at the gangster, wary of how close his fingers lingered. Teeth bared in a grin, he blows a soft breath across your hair, the last of the ash unsettled as it floats away. You can smell tobacco on his breath—a familiar scent to you.
“I need a favour.” Bucky finally speaks up, his voice low. Your gaze snaps to meet his.
You blink. “A favour?”
You jump as Bucky finally moves, his foot jerking as he kicks the seat opposite him. The chair scrapes across the hardwood floors, stopping centimetres before your boots.
“Sit.” He commands.
Sam’s hand finds the back of your neck, a soft push guiding you in the direction of the free space. You obey, your knee bouncing as you take a seat. You sit near the edge of the chair, leaving some distance between yourself and the table. As if sensing your desire to bolt, Steve sweeps up behind you, pushing the chair in until you are fully tucked in. Then, with mocking laughter, Sam and Steve take a seat on either side of you.
“No one told me there was any issue about magic—” You begin. Steve snickers beside you, returning to fiddling with the toothpick still poking from his mouth.
“A favour.” Bucky repeats, exhaling smoke from his nose. Sam leans back in his seat, legs spread so widely that his knee touches yours. You shrink back as far as possible. “I’m no copper. I don’t care what you practitioners get up to.”
You find yourself blinking in surprise once more. Magic was a subject that divided many, mostly due to it’s misunderstood nature. High society treated magic as another lavish hobby or skill, with some even going to private schools to turn their gifts into professions with the right licences. Of course, the people of the lower-class were banned from performing such tricks unless they were in possession of the right permits. Due to the nature of the slums being, well, impoverished, unlicensed magic ran rampant through the streets. It wasn’t uncommon knowledge that an entire blackmarket of forbidden arts ran in the backalleys and warehouses of The Warren. Places where those needing particular services could find them for a much more convenient price than in the higherclass areas of Blackstone.
You had kept your services rather secretive, never using your real identity with clients. It was a precaution to not have coppers knocking down your door in the middle of the night. It seemed, despite your best efforts, that nothing flew past Bucky Barnes. But then again, nothing seemed to fly past the gangster. He knew of every black market and every whisper of illegal activity in the slums. It would be foolish to believe he was unaware of you; however, why did he specifically sort you out? Now that was a mystery.
“I don’t understand—” You choke out, head whipping back and forth as you look between the men.
Bucky sighs loudly in annoyance, loud enough that you flinch back. He puts out the remains of his cigarette on your dining table, the smouldering dip leaving a black, circular mark on the wood. He digs into one of the pockets of his vest, revealing a large pendant necklace. The chain is silver, with an oval shaped jewel hanging from the centre. The silver that encrusts it in place is swirled, ensuring there are no gaps for it to escape. Sam and Steve fall quiet, any feeling of twisted amusement dropping from the room. Bucky slides the necklace across the table.
You recoil. This time not out of fear, but rather from the aura the necklace exudes.
Goosebumps rise across your skin, and bile rises in your throat. There was a wickedness in the air, as if all the light and sweetness in the world were sucked into an empty, yawning void. The world feels still, as if even the ash outside has failed to fall. The room is cast into a sickening silence, a silence so strong that even the surrounding world refuses to push through. You can no longer hear the people walking through the winding streets of The Warren, not the clang of metal from the smokestacks or the cry of the dockworkers.
Rot.
It is the only word that comes to your mind. It is as if the jewel itself is rotten, potent, and putrid. An invisible smell so strong you nearly gag. Your skin crawls the longer you stare, as if you rot along with it—bugs squirming beneath your flesh, the taste of dirt in your mouth.
“What’s this?” You asked, your voice strained. You know the blood has drained from your face. Bucky looks at you with curiosity.
“You tell me.”
You look down at the necklace. Dread rises once more, and the chill of soil settles across your shoulders. You twist your head and your neck, feeling uncomfortable and strained the longer you gaze upon the necklace.
There was something terribly, terribly wrong about it.
“There’s a… a sickness… a rot—a curse.” You stumble over your words, your entire body squirming against your will. The feeling of dread swims through you; the sensation that you need to get as far away as possible reverberates down your spine.
“Becca was right.” Steve sings somewhere besides you, but you barely register his words.
“Where’d you find this?” You ask. The room is tighter than usual, with the rickety, peeling cabinets closing in around you. The oven screeches on its iron legs, the yellowed wallpaper crushing closer and closer. Your head falls into your hands, elbows propped onto the table. You let out a shuddering breath, trying to rid yourself of the sickly feeling. You rub your fingers up your face, pinching the bridge of your nose, then massaging your forehead
“It was given to me. As a gift.” As he speaks, you reluctantly open your eyes once more. The room has returned to as you remember, your vision less dizzying as you take in a deep gulp of air, your heart thundering in your ears. You must make a face, because it prompts him to speak once more.
“My sister has a sensitivity. She is convinced—”
“There’s a spirit attached to that jewel.” You interrupt before thinking. Your knees bounce beneath the table, your feet shaking. Your entire being screams that you need to get away from the object. You do not care for politeness or fear of these men, as the horror in your heart you felt gazing upon the necklace greatly outweighed any potential anxieties of the future.
“Yes.” His voice matches his composure—cool and collected. Wholly unaffected by the horrific aura cast by the necklace. Bucky and his men were not magically inclined. They were completely oblivious to the calamity that sat before them.
“The spirits're attached to you, too.” You pause, the feeling of bile rising in your throat once more. “You need to get it lifted.”
“That’s where the favour comes in, doll.”
“I don’t…?” You nearly doubled over. “Please get rid of it. I can’t—”
Barnes leans forward, slowly dragging the necklace over the wood. He slowly deposits it into his breast pocket, watching with curiosity as you sag in relief. You would need to burn this table after they left. You could still sense the rot engrained in the pores of the wood.
“I need to speak with the spirit attached.”
Your forearms lay flat on the table, and you rest your head against them as you try to remember how to breathe. A wave of exhaustion rolls over you. Was this how they tortured their victims? Wore them down into pathetic, panting messes? Were you about to become another body at the bottom of the Sootstone port? You mumble into the fabric. “I can’t raise a spirit without a name.”
“I know her name.”
You pause, lifting your head slowly. “You want to ask her how to break it? You may know her, but spirits’re tricksters they won’t always give ya the correct information—”
“I know how to deal with her.”
You arch a brow, unsure.
“She’s a scorned lover.” Sam whispers beside you. You jump, having forgotten the two other men sitting besides you. Bucky scowls at his words—the most emotion he has shown in the entire time.
“Everyone knows you don’t ‘ave a witch for a moll unless you’re gonna marry her.” Steve butts in, and the two men share a chuckle.
“Shut your mugs. The both of ya.” Bucky snarls, and they both fall silent, although you can’t help but notice their bemused smiles. After a brief, tense silence, the gangster settles back into his seat, tipping his chin upward in a nod. “Morwenna Blackthorn.”
You hesitate, glancing between the three men. They watch you expectantly, relaxing back into their respective seats. Given their status and reputation, you had to presume they were familiar with the workings of underground magic. Licenced practitioners would have clients sign lengthy documents for protection in the event of a spell or session backfiring. The Warrens did not have such luxuries—if you made a mistake, no one could protect you or them from the consequences.
You inhale sharply, placing your hands palms down on the table. The wood hums beneath your touch, the invisible vapours of the curse tickling your flesh. With a roll of your shoulders, you exhale slowly, allowing your body to relax.
Ink drips across your vision, swirling darkness millimetres before your eyes. You stare hard into the invisible void, searching blindly through the tendrils of smoke. Morwenna Blackthorn. Morwenna Blackthorn. Morwenna Blackthorn. Your mind hums. Through the dark fog, you can make out figures—flickers of candle flames casting large, distorted shadows. Morwenna Blackthorn. Bones crunch beneath your feet, yet at the same time, you float. Morwenna Blackthorn. Your hands burn into the table, the rotting sensation tangling through your digits, pulling you deeper.
Morwenna Blackthorn
You can see a thin line of thread hanging through the void.
Morwenna Blackthorn.
It is red; a series of knots tugged tightly intermittently.
Morwenna Blackthorn.
Your fingers grasp the fibres gently, your nail hooking around one of the tiny knots.
You tug.
Morwenna Blackthorn.
A violent, ragged gasp leaves you. It claws up your throat, ripping at the flesh. Your entire body tenses, your spine straightening as your head snaps back. For a moment, you are suspended. You can feel her with you, her ghostly fingers stroking tenderly across your skin. She smooths over the back of your hands, slowly and gradually winding her way up your arms. She clutches your shoulders, her bones digging into your flesh.
Then, with violence strong enough that you fear she has folded your spine in half, she pushes down.
Your body instantly relaxes, head lulling downward. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and despite the appearance being a milky white, you can see perfectly clearly. Morwenna has settled herself deep within your bones, controlling your movements like a puppeteer. You are conscious enough to understand what is happening, but you are not in control of your actions or speech.
Your mouth spread into a wide, sly smile. “Bucky, my love.”
“Mor.” The gangster greets, although he does not seem entirely pleased. You pout, leaning your elbows onto the table.
“Not happy to see me?” You coo. Somewhere beside you, Steve shifts in his seat uncomfortably. It is the most off put you’ve ever seen the man so far. He winces as your head swings around, a wicked grin gracing your lips. “Oh, Stevie and Sam. Didn’t see you two here.”
“Mor.” The two men grumble in unison, scowling.
“Awh. Why so glum, boys?” You whine, your chair scraping against the floor as you stand. Your movements are fluid and graceful, entirely not your own. Your hands stroke across the back of the chair, then swooshes up to meet your chest.
You lean forward, tutting as you inspect your reflection in the glass of a nearby cupboard. “Trust you to find a pretty one in The Warrens.”
Your hands move to unpin your mantle, a cloud of ash lingering in the air as you drop it to the floor. You sigh in relief, your fingers unbuttoning the top of your shirt, revealing the curve of your breasts. Your hands smooth down your waist to your hips; your full figure is now displayed.
“You missed me that much, my love? That you had to find a pretty vessel for me so you could get your cock wet, hm?” You hum, sashying towards the table once more.
“That’s not why you’re here.” Bucky replies. He seems frozen in place. The horror of familiarity. Recognising the mannerisms of someone he once knew in a complete stranger.
You ignore his words, unpinning your hair. Thick locks unroll, cascading down your shoulders and back. You let out an exaggerated, satisfied sigh, rolling your neck. The strands frame your face, and the rich colour brings colour to your cheeks.
“Morwenna.” Bucky snaps. Your brows furrow as you look over to him, pouting once more. “You put a curse. On the necklace.”
Your mind momentarily blanks, as if Morwenna were trying to recall what he said. Spirits often grew confused trying to recall memories, especially ones that brought them anguish. A cog seems to turn as you flash the gangster another beaming smile.
“The necklace… oh. Did you like it? My parting gift to you? Before you fucked me over you piece of—” Your voice, once sweet and soft, deepens to a guttural growl. Your body shakes, and words cut off as you cough and hack. Your hand raises to your mouth, warm fluid leaking from your lips. You let in a shuddering breath, rubbing your fingers and palms down your chin. Blood smears across your skin.
“You shot me, my love.” You gasp, your brows furrowing as your head tilts. “You shot me.”
“You betrayed us, remember? You were a rat—” Steve jumps in, but is quickly cut off.
“Steve.” Bucky warns.
Your hands find your stomach, doubling over as you sob. There is no wound, no blood. Still, your hands dig at the fabric while ragged, pathetic cries leave your blood stained lips.
“How do I break the curse?”
You shuddering sobs stop, a dreadful silence falling over the tiny kitchen. A guttural laugh erupts from you, saliva mixed with blood dripping from your lips to the floor. “The curse. The curse? I should have known… I should have known…”
Your body jerks upward, movements stiff, and jerks like a marionette doll. Sam’s face contorts into one of fear, while Steve looks horrified. You jerk forward, nearly tripping over the chair as you plunge towards the table. Your stomach smacks hard against the wood, a winded wheeze escaping your lungs as you drag yourself forward by your nails.
“Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me?” You cry, your head beginning to twist, the angle so unnatural that it strains your neck.
“How do I break it?” Bucky repeats, voice firm. He hasn’t so much as flinched, a wall of steel as you crawl towards him.
“It was born in chaos, so it must be undone in chaos. I will find you. I will tear you limb from limb. I will make you rot from the inside out; maggots will grow within you; and mould will bloom in your soul. Everything will crumble to dust beneath your touch. I will ruin you until you b–b—be—”
Your body slides back, and for the first time in the entire session, you grab the reins. You search blindly for the knotted thread, tugging hard. Your body steps back from the table, muscles spasming and tense as your body locks in place.
You tug harder, and darkness swims across your vision. Candles flicker and dance in the distance, the sun rising and falling as your body twists up and down. The smell of rot slowly subsides, threads slipping from your fingers. The scent of copper and ash is on your tongue, and your head is pounding.
A dramatic sigh leaves you as your body slumps. You find yourself standing before the table, three sets of eyes burning into you as your own eyes roll back into place. Sam and Steve look equally disturbed as they are horrified, the blond’s mouth agape in shock.
“The fuck was that?” Sam barks.
“I ain’t never seen a spirit session like that before, Buck—” Steve begins.
“Shut it.” Bucky barks, rising to his feet.
There is a sickly feeling in your chest, a radiating pain across your ribcage. You barely register the gangster walking up to you, gripping your chin between his index and thumb.
“You pulled yourself out early.” Bucky sneers. “Why?”
“Buck—” Steve calls again. With a growl, Bucky releases you, twisting around to snarl at Steve.
“I thought you told me she was the best in the Warrens?”
“She is. Did’ya not see that shit?”
“She didn’t get me an answer—”
“Chaos magic.” You finally speak up, your voice raspy. The gangsters pause, slowly turning to face you. “She told you. It’s chaos magic. What’s born in chaos must be undone in chaos.”
Your hand raises to your face, your fingertips touching your upperlip as warm blood flows from your nose. You raise your hand into the light, inspecting the crimson liquid. Your eyes cut over to Bucky's, and he frowns.
“Chaos magic?” He questions.
“Sex magic.” You state, fighting the heat growing across your cheeks. Without much of a care or a flinch, you navigate your way past the group. Your shirt brushes against Bucky’s jacket, the rotting feeling momentarily settling in your stomach as the fabric brushes his breastpocket. You pause in front of your sink, knuckles white as you grip the lip. Blood continues to stream steadily from your nose, dripping into the basin.
“You focus your thoughts on one thing; you get pulled into a trance. Take the energy, the chaos, and you focus it. At the peak, picture what you’re manifestin’. The chaos that you’ve built through the act is released at the moment of orgasm.” You explain, your gaze solidly locked onto the blood that swirls down your drain.
“Sex magic.” Bucky hums in thought.
Steve spoke up from beside him with a snicker. “How poetic.”
—
You hated how your hands shook. If Bucky had noticed, he hadn’t brought it up. He was coolly inspecting your tiny bedroom, hands tucked into his pockets. The room had an eclectic taste, with walls covered in shelving. You collected books, objects, trinkets, or other things that helped your work. Drying herbs hung from your curtain railings, your desk cluttered with papers you had hastily scribbled notes upon.
You ground your palm harder into the pestle, gritting your teeth as you worked the herbs inside into a fine paste. Your bed, stripped bare, had been pushed to the side of the room. It usually sat near the centre, atop a fraying rug. The rug had also been removed, rolled up, and placed somewhere in your stairway. The old wood beneath had been painted by your hand, with intricate runes, symbols, and swirls making up the general shape of a circle. You had already lined it with black salt, candles burning at each cardinal direction. At the centre of the circle, you had laid your bedding and pillows for comfort.
Bucky had sent Steve and Sam away, the two men snickering like a pair of school boys. You all knew what was about to unfold; it was just a question of why you had allowed yourself to become tangled up in such a situation. You had done similar rituals for clients before, yes, but none of those clients had been the boss of the Smog Boys. None of them had been Bucky Barnes.
You eyed him as he paused in front of the carved circle, mindlessly playing with the jewelled necklace that hung from his grip. The awful, dreadful, rotting sensation was dulled; you’d nearly begged the gangster to let you cleanse the object. It was a temporary relief that would wear down in a few hours, but at least you could complete your work without gagging at the feeling of it. You hurriedly poured the thick paste from the herbs into a pot, which boiled in your fireplace. It only took a couple of stirs for the potion to settle. You could feel Bucky’s eyes assessing your every movement as you poured the steaming liquid into two cups, briefly swirling each to ensure the consistency was correct.
“Remind me what this is.” The gangster asked, closing the distance between you. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the scent.
“A potion to help with the ritual. Some find it…hard to perform.” You say, wincing as you realise what you implied. Bucky raises a brow as you fumble over your words. “It heightens arousal and pleasure.”
“I won’t find it hard to perform.” He replies curtly.
“I know. I wasn’t saying that—I just… from experience…” You stumble again. If only you could punch yourself in the face for this idiocy.
“Relax, doll.” He hums, his hand finding your shoulder. You exhale sharply, lips pressed together, as your shoulders drop in response. “I can find someone else if you don’t want this.”
As much as you hated yourself for admitting it, you did want this. Maybe it was a sick curiosity, wondering if this dangerous yet handsome man could perform as well as you imagined, as well as it was rumoured. You swallow, your mouth feeling dry. “No. I want this.”
“Good.” His hand brushes a loose strand of hair from your face, and his head dips to look at you better. “Honestly, I could fuck you with or without the potion, doll.”
There is a knowing smirk spreading across his face as your mind blanks. Fucking rake. You consider if the fumes from the potion have already leaked their effects onto you both. You can feel a warmth growing between your legs.
“It’s my job.” You mutter, stepping away. Although you’re unsure if the reassurance is for yourself or for him. His chuckle follows you as you sweep across the room, returning to your small desk. “Do you want me to explain the ritual in detail or just give you the gist of it?”
“Spare the details; just run me through what I need to do.” He responds. He has closed the distance between the both of you again, peering over your shoulder as you fumble through your things.
“Well, it’s pretty simple.” You sigh, turning around. Your chests are nearly pressed together as you spin. You back up as far as possible, your hands moving behind your back as you grip the edge of the desk to steady yourself. "We’ll have to draw some blood with a blade and put it on the necklace to link it to our energies. It’s sigil magic, nothing you’ll have to worry about. We take the potions…”
You fade off with a shrug. Bucky smirks once more, his chin lifting in amusement, but his gaze remains solidly locked onto you. His hands go to his pockets, and his wide chest blocks your movements. You clear your throat. “The ending is more what you’ll need to focus on. When you reach… climax… you must focus all your energy on the necklace and nothing else. I will be there to guide and remind you, but you can’t let your thoughts stray.”
“What about you? What will you have to think of?” He questions, his voice low. His adams apple bobs as he swallows slowly, his tongue running across his bottom lip in thought. Intriguing question. No one had asked you that before.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re the only one who needs to orgasm.”
“Why?”
“The curse is linked to you. Only you can break it, with my assistance, of course. I am just here to help guide you and lend you my energy. I am just a conduit for the magic, to focus it.” You explain. Thinking it was best to get it over and done with, you finally pluck up the courage to push past him.
Your athame was already in place; the candles were lit, salt laid, and sigil memorised. There was only one thing left to do—the act. You crouch down by the fireplace, retrieving the two cups. Bucky gives you an incredulous look.
“It tastes better than it smells.” You reassure him, handing him the saucer. He inspects the liquid once more, wincing, then shrugging in surprise as he finally downs the lot. You watch with a scrutinising gaze as he places the cup down, rolling his shoulders.
The potion would take all of five seconds to take affect. It didn’t alter the brain or take away authority; rather, it heightened already present feelings of arousal or pleasure. The user would experience a rather euphoric sensation. Dodgy brothels often microdosed their clients with such herbs to heighten the experience. Also to hook in a new, loyal customer. Used sparingly, the herbs were fine, but they were highly addictive.
And illegal. Most of your work fell into that category.
Within moments, you could see Bucky’s pupils dilate, his jaw and shoulders relaxing, and his nostrils flaring as he exhaled slowly. His voice was strained as he spoke up, his tone gravelly and low as he cleared his throat in surprise. “Fuck. That does feel good, doesn’t it?”
You smile shyly into your own cup and swallow down the liquid. You were familiar with the taste and it’s effects. It was surprisingly sweet, with a vanilla, nutty aftertaste. As soon as it hit your stomach, you could already feel the warmth growing in your core—a delightful tingling sensation spreading up your spine and skull.
You were quick to place your cup down and cross the room to retrieve the athame. You had to pin point your actions very directly so as not to get distracted by the hulking man looming in your room. The potion was definitely potent, because any fear or anxiety had left you. Your body begged for him to come closer, to touch you, to kiss you. Not yet. Soon.
“Come here.” You murmur, drawing the blade from it’s sheath. Bucky obeys, wordlessly stalking towards you and presenting you with his palm. You look up at him through your lashes, gently taking his hand into yours. Your skin sings at the content, a rush of goosebumps raising across your skin. “We don’t need much blood.”
The gangster is still as you drag the blade in a short cut along the heel of his palm. You push into the mound, coaxing out droplets of blood to blister to the surface. “The necklace.”
He lets out a low, agreeable grunt as he hands it to you. The potion has helped you ignore any bad energy attached to the object. Your skin simmers as you brush your finger tips along the cut, gathering Bucky’s blood. You take the jewel, smearing the blood across the slippery surface into one half of a symbol. Bucky watches expectantly as you hastily repeat the process with your own hand, smearing your blood to complete the symbol.
“You need to wear it.” You hum and guide the chain over his head. You know you should find a bandage or some kind of healing salve for your hands, but your attention is pulled away as Bucky grasps your hand. An involuntary whimper leaves your throat as he raises your palm to his lips, his tongue peaking out as he runs it across the open wound. The potion had definitely taken effect. Holy fuck, your back arches as pleasure shoots down your arm, blooming at the base of your skull.
His lips kiss along the cut, sucking and licking. Your mind swims from the sensation—ideas of where else he could be putting his mouth to use. You pull your palm away, dragging it across his cheek as you cup his face. A crimson streak is smeared along his skin, and his lips are glossy from saliva and stained with your blood. The two of you clash in desperation, a rumbling groan being pulled from the gangster as his lips engulf yours.
You can taste copper on his tongue, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you flush against his body. The two of you move in a frantic rhythm, scarcely making room to breathe. You guide him clumsily to the painted circle, the two of you falling to your knees in unison. Blindly, you find his clothing, helping him tug off the jacket and then unbutton his vest.
His hands slip under your blouse, caressing the skin beneath. His fingers roam to your brassiere, your nipples hardening as he brushes them through the sleek fabric. You mewl into his mouth, squirming under his touch as the pulse between your legs quickens. His large palm comes to rest below your breasts, his thumb sitting on your sternum as he yanks you backwards onto his lap.
Your lips break, and you gasp for air as the gangster continues his assault down your neck to the exposed skin of your collarbone. His stubble tickles across your neck, and he gathers your skirts, fingers gliding past your stockings to your exposed inner thigh.
Your head tips backwards to rest on his shoulder, and loud, satisfied sighs leave you. The sensation is near blinding, your body alight with pleasure. Had you accidentally made a stronger dose in your nervousness? You had never yearned in such a way before—
“What’re you doing?” You query with a gasp as his fingers slip beneath your loose tap pants.
Your question is answered as he strokes a fingertip through your wet folds.
“You’re so wet.” He hums against your skin, voice strained. You can already feel his erection pressing into you. His grip on you remains firm, your back flush against his chest as he dips two of his fingers into you. Ecstasy fizzles across your skin, nails digging into his skin where you grip his arm.
“What’re you— I’m supposed to make you—ah!” You whine, your breath coming fast as you lean harder into him. Your hips rock greedily, pushing your pelvis in time with his pumping fingers so the heel of his palm grinds against your clit.
“Shh, doll. Relax.” He whispers, his tongue licking up the shell of your ear. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your body is locked in place by his grip. His pace increases, and the panting in your ear grows as his two digits glide in and out of your tight cunt.
“Do you like that?” He groans in your ear. Your grinding hips are now giving friction to his cock, which twitches against your backside through his pants. You whimper in response, a short sob bubbling from your mouth as you clench around him.
Your head lifts, eyes widening as you look down. You can’t see much due to your skirts, but you can feel the knot tightening within your belly. Your hips move more desperately, needy, pathetic moans escaping you as his pace remains steady.
“Please—” You beg, squirming as the gangster chuckles.
“You do like this, huh? Even if you acted like a little innocent virgin earlier.” He growls. The vibration is enough to set you over the edge, a loud cry leaving you as you clench hard around his fingers, body spasming. Bucky continues to steadily pump you through your orgasm. “Good girl.”
A continued arousal stirs in your belly at his praise. Your body slumps against him, panting and exhausted.
“Such a good girl.” He hums again, his digits slipping out of you. You can feel the sloppy mess between your thighs, and as Bucky pulls his hand into the light, you can see the wet drenching his fingers. “I think I like this version of you. The one who makes pretty little noises while I fuck her brains out, hm?”
You’re left speechless as the gangster lifts his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a devilish smirk.
“Well, time to get this ritual over with then, don’t you think?” He says. You’re too exhausted and drunk on desire to bother replying. You allow him to guide you down, so your head is placed side-ways on one of the pillows. He guides your hips up, your legs slightly spread, and pushes your skirts to your hips.
“You’ll have to tell me when you’re close, so I can guide you.” You finally muster up the strength to say. The gangster pulls your tap pants down, exposing your cunt fully.
“Sure thing, doll.” He says in response. You hear the sound of fabric rustling as he pulls out his cock.
Without much warning, he pushes into you, your arousal making it easy for his member to slide in and out of you. A growl burns in the back of his throat while you wordlessly make a fist around the sheets and blankets beneath you.
“Fuck. You’re so tight.” Bucky groans, his voice strained. “And to think you’ve been hidin’ out in The Warrens all this time.”
He sinks deeper into you, pulling small whimpers and moans from you as he finds a steady, pleasurable rhythm. His hand slides up your clothed back, pushing you harder into the pillow with a grunt. His other hand finds your hips, his grip bruising as he guides you.
You bite down into the pillow, your pleasured sobs muffled by the feathers.
“You squeezed so tightly around my fingers; I can’t wait to see how you’ll feel when you come around my cock.” Bucky grunted as he ploughed into you. His hand fists around your loose hair, fingers tangling through the locks as he tugs. Tears are beginning to prickle in your eyes, and your legs are wobbling from the sensation.
“Please—” you gasp out.
“Please, what?” The gangster asks, tugging harder. The hand on your hip is squeezing tighter as he holds you in place.
“Please—I need to—”
“No.” He growls, tugging you upward. You fall backwards into his lap once more, his cock still inside you but somehow deeper from the angle he holds you. “You need to finish the ritual, remember? I can’t have you guide me if you’re too fucked out to talk.”
Another sob leaves you, but you wordlessly nod. You hold onto the burning sensation in your gut, the waves of satisfaction so immense that your limbs tremble. Bucky continues to fuck up into you, his cock steadily driving into you as his free hand comes to lazily swirl your swollen clit.
You try to remember words, instructions, anything. You feel too high to even breathe. All you can do is focus on the sensation of the necklace rubbing against your back and the friction burning against your skin.
“Focus on the necklace. How it feels around your neck.” You squeak out, your eyes squeezed shut, as you try to ground yourself. “Focus on the feeling of the chain, the weight of the jewel. Think of your blood, how a piece of you is painted onto it.”
There is a moment of silence between the two of you, only the slapping of skin and the rasping of breath.
“Are you focused on it?” You ask.
“Yes.” The gangster cuts back. His strokes were beginning to grow sloppy.
“Focus.” You whisper, though a breathy moan leaves you. “Feel your energy flow; feel your blood seep into the stone. Picture how it will shatter beneath your power.”
His hips jerk beneath you, his finger on your clit swirling faster. Your breath comes in sharp stutters, your back arching as you find no way to escape the rising sensation. His back is rock solid behind you, his hands keeping you in place as you begin to spiral. Your pussy tightens around him as you begin to scream—
“Please, Bucky. Please!”
Something snaps between the both of you, his hips jerking wildly as he spills into you. He moans into your ear at a deafening level, his fingers digging into your thighs. You double over in pleasure, your vision briefly going black as you cry out. Sparks dance across your skin, your body momentarily alight as the power of magic flows through you. You can feel the rush as your energy meets Bucky’s entangling with one another in a fierce battle. For a second, you feel intoxicated, colours bursting across your sight as the rush of magic rests in your chest, and then, just as quickly as it arrived, it cascades out of you.
Behind you, the sound of shattering can be heard above the moans.
Panting, Bucky releases you. You slump to the floor, off his lap. His cum drips from your pussy, thighs wet as sticky as you close your eyes, desperately trying to catch your breath. You roll onto your back, pressing your thighs together. Through heavy-lidded eyes, you look down at Bucky. He sits kneeling, dishevelled. His hair is ruffled, blood is still smeared along his cheek, and his shirt is untucked and creased.
At some point, he has tucked his cock away, suspenders hanging loosely by his hips. His gaze is not on you; rather, it is solely focused on the necklace in his palm. You go to lift your head, but you find yourself too weak and exhausted to bother. A mixture of being too fucked out to care and the lack of energy from acting as a conduit for the ritual.
“Did it work?” You ask the gangster, and his eyes finally pull up to look at you. His gaze wanders over your face, examining your swollen lips, the blush across your cheeks, and the areas where exposed skin remains. He cracks a grin, lifting his hand. The necklace dangles from his fingers, the large, blue jewel now gifted with a large crack down the centre.
You let out a sigh of relief, letting your head fall back as you stared up at the ceiling. Your eyes flicker closed, a sleepy warmth prickling across your scalp.
“Doll?”
Your eyes snap open with a jolt.
“It’s all done? The curse is gone?” The gangster questions. You weakly nod in reply.
“Her spirit and whatever curse she held have been released.” You affirm, voice sleepy, relaxing back into the pillows and blankets. “Apologies. This type of spell drains me.”
Bucky chuckles. You were just glad you had enough sense near the end to actually guide him. The gangster appeared to be attempting to prove something with the orgasms he extracted from you. In the state you were in, you had little reason to complain.
When you opened your eyes again, he was across the room, vest on and jacket slung over his arm.
“I’ll leave your payment downstairs.” He says, only pausing to look down at you, still curled up on the floor. You blink up at him sleepily. “Thanks for your help, spirit-raiser.”
You can’t find the energy to correct him.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky x female reader#mob boss bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky x y/n#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#marvel au#marvel#marvel fic#peaky blinders au#mobster au#gangster au#fantasy au
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toaster: *pops*
Gabe: *checking the toast-doneness level (with his hand still on the toaster lever)*
Cas, whispering: no
Gabe: *staring him dead in the eye*
Cas: you wouldn't
Gabe: *slowly pushing the lever down a second time*
Cas, screaming: nooooo!!
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:[
#ELIZA STOP LYING TO AND MANIPULATING PEOPLE PLZZZZZZ#EVEN WHEN THEY'RE BAD PEOPLE#EVEN WHEN YOU REALLY REALLY NEED TO FIND OUT IMPORTANT INFO TO STOP BAD THINGS TM FROM HAPPENING#JUST. FIND BETTER WAYS TO DO YOUR DETECTIVE-ING.#listen I //understand// why she does it#and I know it's supposed to make her a ~sharp and sly investigator~#but it *bothers* me how much she uses people and their ambitions against them with apparently no remorse#if she has judged you a Bad Person than she has absolutely no qualms with lying to manipulating and possibly doing very real damage to#your social standing and reputation#and I UNDERSTAND that She doesn't think reputation and social standing mean much. and she doesn't care two figs about anyone's#attempts to get in good with those of higher social rank.#and yet....... she is constantly trying to improve the reputation of her detective agency and achieve more equal social standing with#male detectives#so WHY is THAT different??? and why doesn't the story ever really allow her to suffer the consequences of using people like this???#ramblings#not putting this one in the tag bc I don't wanna attract people coming to argue with me lol#and I'm not trying to be a hater :')#I just wish this show had better writing. bc it could be so much more interesting and compelling if it did.#tag ramble
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man, imagine just... letting people have their own opinions of gw and not making fun of people who did or didn’t enjoy it.
people in this fandom are so aggressive.
you can talk about your opinions and even hate or love as strongly as the human heart allows! just... don’t say things like “people are stupid for thinking xyz”. you do realize you may have mutuals or even friends following you that see that and are now apprehensive to talk to you, especially about this game, right? that you might be offending your own friends and acquaintances with insulting terminology and you don’t know a friend feels that way because they’re too anxious to even tell you now because you’ve made it clear that you think everyone with xyz opinion is some insulting and hurting term?
it’s one thing to say things like “this is the best/worst route between both games and I love/hate it more than anything”. it’s another to say something like “everyone who loves/hates gw is an absolute retard who didn’t understand claude’s character in houses in the first place if they loved/hated gw”.
no, I’m not quoting anyone specifically, but I’m trying to iterate to you an example of the sorts of things I’m seeing people saying as if under the assumption that every single person in their space agrees with them and that they’re not risking hurting someone with their words.
yeah, you can hate the route or love the route with every fiber of your being. I’m just personally not sure that’s worth being hateful toward every single other human being who has the opposite opinion as you, or worth making people apprehensive about checking their social media every day because they follow people who are very likely to insult entire groups of people based on their likes/dislike in a fictional universe.
like, yeah, I didn’t enjoy the second half of gw... but you know what’s cool? I’m still close friends with someone who liked it and feels the opposite way that I do about the writing and about claude.
#it sucks too bc I have mutuals on Twitter who will NOT stop talking about it#and going out of their way to point out every instance of their opinion while like#degrading the people who don't agree#at that point like mind your own business and talk about things that are fun??? stop getting mad at people for their opinions???#it's really easy to go find something you enjoy on the damn internet it's like the easiest way ever lol#even when I just check regular tags for characters nowadays it's the same arguments#half or more of the content isn't the characters or fanart or anything like that anymore#it's just people arguing about stupid shit like okay we get it you do or don't like the writing in it#it doesn't mean you have to go out of your way to make other people feel bad about their opinion#it's one thing to discuss with people in your space (depending on which social media you use etc)#but to go out of your way or to outright insult people with the opposite opinion just makes you look like you're trying to start fights#when this game came out I wanted to remember it by being Billy's final work for his job and he did so so so good#and now it's hard to look at this game and think of it that way because I keep thinking of all the drama#it's still hard to listen to Ferdinand's lines and some more than others bc I was in Billy's streams a lot#so when I hear those things I tend to picture his face and it's still difficult for me. I still can't wrap my head around him being gone#and for two months at that now. I want to look at this game and think of the work he did and you know? if you don't that's fine#but it's hard for me to see it that way now when I just can't log on to ANYTHING on ANY day and see ANYTHING but arguing or like#people straight up insulting others and using offensive terms about people who didn't like something#like cool you loved/hated gw. wanna explain why you're tagging your hate for other people to see? would love to hear THAT explanation#it's kinda like how on Twitter I've had to block an obscene amount of people in the dmcl tags#bc they post the ship name i.e. a keyword in searches that will come up when fans look for content#and it's a bunch of offensive shit about the entire fanbase and how we're all disgusting people with shit opinions#and who don't enjoy the ship for actual context but apparently bc we just want to see two guys bang#imagine lumping an entire fandom of anything (ship character series etc) into an insulting and offensive box just bc YOU don't like it#or you had ONE bad experience with a fan of it so now you post hate in their search keywords instead of censoring it#so that it doesn't come up in someone's searches#literally how are you going to be prejudice about an entire group of shippers or character fans full of ppl you don't even KNOW?#and instead of talking to some of them to understand their reasoning you just post offensive shit in their searches/tags#this is the kind of shit I'm seeing with Hopes too which is why I'm mentioning it here
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i actually think there's some significance in the fact that mithrun wears oversized shirt with open collar (it most likely belongs to laios) in the final arc of the manga. i mean, not just that kui simply wanted to draw him in oversized clothes, lol.
in all instances we see young (pre-dungeon) mithrun he's wearing clothes that hide his body as much as possible. which seems normal, until you see what other elves prefer to wear: most of them wear light short tunics with no sleeves and they don't usually even wear pants. here's a comparison to his brother's outfit, for example, as they stand next to each other.
it's not like his fashion choices are unique, but it certainly feels deliberate. he doesn't add any variation to his canary's uniform either, but that's not especially notable, i guess, because a lot of canaries don't do that (i mean, it's still their armor).
but in his perfect world he's also one of the few who always wears this type of clothes. never revealing himself. sitting a little further from everyone else.
he even lies in his bed fully clothed, like he can't ever bring himself to let his guard down, never showing his "true" skin to anyone.
btw notice that his bed is a single bed, even though he's been living with his partner for 5 years at that point.
and that's the idea, isn't it? he never lets himself be truly vulnerable with anyone, even in his dungeon, where people are supposed to like him unconditionally. i think it adds something to the horrible scene with the demon: it's especially disturbing that the demon literally doesn't care how much of yourself you wanna hide, it sees (and eats) right through every protective layer. and we all know what the allegory of this scene is.
when mithrun loses all his desires, he no longer cares what clothes he wears. and in some twisted metaphorical sense it's heartbreaking to see him in a simple elven tunic when he's recovering, the one that doesn't hide any of his injuries or scars or terrible physique.
he doesn't care to hide himself anymore, but it isn't on his own volition. it's something that was ripped away from him, as well as his privacy (a lot of people have to go through this when they're in medical care actually).
when he recovers and enlists to canaries again, he starts to wear full uniform again, but i don't think it holds much significance to him anymore. or at least he thinks it doesn't. we can see that cithis forces him to wear frilly dress at some point and it's implied that he goes along with it (cithis is still an asshole for that btw).
at this point he's fully focused on finding the demon, but i think the sad reality is that he's always been capable of developing new desires. i'd argue that there are already some things he cares about without realizing it, in the main story. but what's stopping him from actually realizing it at that point is that he's clinically depressed. his disability makes his life difficult; he lives with the idea that he's completely "broken", he accepted the reality of living like that and always goes along with what others make him do. so, he doesn't believe in his own privacy anymore. it’s actually something kabru talks about in the adventurer’s bible comic, when he tries to help mithrun to figure it out again, to help him see the value of privacy, of choosing what he wanna reveal of himself. mithrun needed a reminder that he still has this choice like anybody else.
i think the scene where kabru asks him about his past for the first time is interesting in that sense. first of all, i like the symbolism of kabru unbuttoning mithrun’s collar and cuffs, revealing the scars underneath (a good amount of them is self-inflicted). he does so unthinkingly, but in his defence he doesn't know anything about mithrun yet. another interesting thing is that the first reaction mithrun has is covering his eyes with his hands. he's trying to hide. he supposedly has no desire to hide, but this reaction is almost instinctual to him. i think kabru notices this as well (of course he does) and i think it's one of the things that prompts him to voice his concerns about mithrun's privacy later.
so, what about that laios' shirt he wears in the final arc of the comic? he has to change his uniform's shirt for something else because it's covered in spider's guts. it's unclear if someone puts laios' shirt on him or if it's something he chooses to wear himself. regardless, it's still symbolic for his change. it's not particularly revealing or anything, but it's different from the type of clothes he usually wears, and it's tallman clothes. and in this final arc we can see a lot of his true feelings as well. he's visibly mad at kabru, he shows concern and tries to help marcille, he helps kabru to break out of his spiral. and obviously, in chapter 94 he reveals a lot of what he actually feels and think and shows genuine emotions other than anger. and I think it’s the first time he decided to be open and vulnerable on his own volition, probably in his entire life.
we can see him wearing variety of clothes post-canon and it’s ambiguous how much of it he picked for himself. pattadol probably helps him a lot with choosing outfits and she also prefers high collars. but mithrun knows he can choose now; even if he doesn’t want anything in particular, he always can express his opinion or feeling, like he did with kabru’s food. he always can choose how much he wants to be seen. i’m just glad to see him wearing similar shirt with open collar and rolled-up sleeves on the cover of daydream hour book.
#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi spoilers#dungeon meshi manga spoilers#mithrun#sorry for my english#text post
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🪰 housefly734 Follow
just a reminder that flies rubbing their hands together =/= plotting a nasty scheme
🪰 r0tt1ngm3at Follow
FINALLY SOMEONE SAID IT!! I HATE THE STEREOTYPE THAT US RUBBING OUR HANDS TOGETHER MEANS WE ARE PLANNING SOMETHING DUBIOUS!!
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
^^ Boosting! I constantly get non-flies giving me death glares whenever I wash my hands in the restroom. Like, that's what you're supposed to do after going to the bathroom! Sorry for being hygienic I guess 🙄
🪰 diptera-doll Follow
Reasons why flies might be rubbing their hands together:
It's chilly out and they're trying to warm up
They just put hand sanitizer/lotion/hand cream on
They're rolling a ball of clay together
What you should do if you see a fly rubbing their hands together:
Leave them alone! It's none of your business
Hope this helped! :)
🪰 flyhlghh Follow
people also forget that hand-rubbing is a very common stim!! neurodivergent flies constantly get stigmatized for showing any traits of their neurodivergencies in public!! please don't forget that!!
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
I dont know about you losers but i like to rub my hands together because i am planning the most heinous and villanous crimes in my head
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Wow, most obvious troll I have ever seen in my life. Get a life, dude 🙄
🪰 compoundeyehaver Follow
> claims to be a real fly
> has bee as their profile pic
dude couldn even get the right insect for their shitty troll account LMFAOOOOO
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
No i am real fly and i am plotting to land on someones pie rn and ruin it with all my real fly germs. rubbing my hands together as i do it too
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Anyone wanna bet this guy is some amphibian from 4frog typing this nonsense from their lilypad right now? Just me? Okay-
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
I am buzzing around people's ears now
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Yep, that pretty much confirms my theory. The nerve of some non-flies, I swear 🙄
🪰 batsianmimc Follow
@venus-fly-trap-hater
🪰 venus-fly-trap-hater Follow
this post is so real!! tysm babe for sending it to me 💞 ilyy
🪰 batsianmimc Follow
ILY too sugar cube 😘
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
Can you guys stop kissing on this post its ruining my evil scheme planning
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Can't believe this guy is still at it, honestly. @staff @tumblr Please take action against fake fly troll accounts such as these ones!
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
Staff cant kill me i rubbed my hands on them too hard and they dieded sorry
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
🤣🤣🤣 Oh the excuses this fake is making, LOL! I haven't been this entertained since the Bombylius major discourse last year!
🪰 compoundeyehaver Follow
why are you still arguing with the troll instead of just blocking
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Just think it's entertaining to see the lack of logic that bounces around in the brains of these non-flies sometimes 🤷♀️ Every response this so called "I am a real fly, trust me" user has given me has just made me crack up and flap my wings together.
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
I am gonna rub my hands and plan more evil schemes involving you next
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Heh, just try it, kid. Go on, I'll wait. 🥱
🦗 chirpingboy Follow
things are getting heated in the fly community
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
Of course a Grasshopper has the nerve to comment something insensitive on this post. Honestly, just mind your business 🙄
🦗 chirpingboy Follow
okayy
🦗 hopping-along-the-bank Follow
Hey, you can't really preach for not discriminating against flies and then discriminate against a grasshopper, dude. Not cool.
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
I think I certainty can, with my past experiences of Grasshoppers always finding the ways to say the most uneducated and baseless takes on my previous posts and discussions. Plus, after the Fly-Grasshopper War of 247 BC (in which my ancestors fought in, mind you) and the consequences that followed it, I think I am well within my rights. But go ahead, frame me as the bad guy here. 🤣
🦗 hopping-along-the-bank Follow
Yeah, you say this and conveniently ignore the socio-economic struggles that grasshoppers have been facing for the past century, many of these issues which were spearheaded by fly conservative politicians in office at the time.
So, yeah, it is rather hypocritical for you to pull out these cards when grasshoppers have also been punished and gotten the short end of the stick throughout bug history.
🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow
The implication that all flies are responsible for a few greedy politicians is quite comical, really. 🥱 Not to mention that many Grasshopper politicians in Bugland and Bugtopia have also had histories of introducing laws that have severely affected communities majorly made up of Flies. But sure, keep arguing with me about this, buddy. I got all day 🤣
🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow
I am still rubbing my hands and planing schemes btw
🪰 flythatlovestogethigh Follow
anyone smoke bug weed in this thread
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Lando Norris and [Y/n] [Y/l/n]'s rivalry takes a different turn in Miami
yourusername THANK YOU TO MY TEAM, ALL THE REDBULL FANS AND MY TEAMMATE MAX (sorry to beat ur ass lol) MY FIRST VICTORY IN FORMULA 1 I LOVE YOU GUYS
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username1 Chill girlie, it's just a sprint race win
username2 And people were shitting on Redbull for dropping Checo for a rookie 😭 you showed them, been on the podium almost every weekend and got the first win so quick
carlossainz55 Congrats 👏 🥇
↳yourusername THANK YOU 💪
↳username3 Carlos and Y/n are literally the only drivers who managed to beat Max this season and may I add she's a rookie
username4 Redbull knew what they were doing
redbullracing Our golden girl🏆
↳yourusername 💙💙
maxverstappen1 It was my pleasure to see you win💪
↳yourusername Get ready to see it more often
username5 I wonder how Lando feels knowing that a girl rookie got a win before him
↳username6 same thing happened last year when Oscar won sprint 😭 guess he won't do anything about it
↳username4 He's crying probably lmao
username7 📞God's calling he says we should have more girls in Formula 1
charles_leclerc A victory in your rookie year is always special🥳🥳
↳yourusername I love it 😭
oscarpiastri Party when?
↳yourusername After I win the race tomorrow 😇 unless you can tell Lando to get his shit together and try to beat me
username5 I love the fact that Y/n and Oscar are friends, Oscar is friends with Lando, and for some reason Y/n and Lando seem to hate each other
username8 I've heard there's some story behind the whole Y/n Lando thing 😭
username6 WHAAAAAT?
username8 So apparently when they were kids, like 15 or smth, one of them had a crush on the other one, but it didn't work out hence enemies now
username6 I'll assume Lando had a crush on Y/n cuz there's no way one could have a crush on a 15yo Lando Norris lmao
username9 And here I was thinking Y/n was just angry about how Lando almost crashed into her a few races ago
username10 sameeee lmao it was so funny to see them argue in the paddock
username9 Yeah and seeing them the weekends after this incident I was like miss girl just likes to hold grudges over things that happen in F1 from time to time lmao
landonorris WWE FUCKIJG DID IT. PT 1🏆
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oscarpiastri Well done man 👏👏👏
alex_albon Congrats!!! 💪👏
georgerussell63 Congrats mate!!!
username1 All I know is he read the comments under Y/n's post 😭
username2 Y/n's victory pissed him too much lmao
yourusername I guess it's not too much for the little Lando Norris anymore
↳landonorris he's not so little anymore
yourusername Shame I wasn't on the podium with you tho
landonorris do better next time then lol
username3 LANDO HAHAHAAH
username4 His villain era starts
yourusername Anyway I'm glad to be your motivation
username5 No cuz I'd also love to see Y/n and Lando on the podium together
↳username6 Y'all talk about the podium together but I'd love to see them in the cool down room together lmao
username5 That'd be gold man, I'd pay millions to be a fly in the room if it ever happened
username7 @/yourusername stop pretending you're not in love with Lando
username7 Actually guys stop pretending you're not in love with each other @/yourusername @/landonorris
↳username8 THIS FEELS SO PERSONAL LMAO
username1 I love a good enemies to lovers story
username2 ARE THEY OKAY?
username3 I saw a video of Max being at the party so I assumed Y/n was there also BUT THIS IS NOT WHAT I EXPECTED
username4 Nah cuz why's the kiss so passionate 😭
username5 girl is living the Wattpad life
username6 now she isn't rejecting him 👀
↳username7 you mean HE isn't rejecting HER now
username8 Do you know something we don't? 🤨
username7 actually yes, Max as in Lando's Max (not Y/n's Max) went live on Twitch yesterday and he said something along the lines of young Lando rejecting young Y/n
username8 Nahhhh this is even better now
username9 I just know that other drivers will make fun of them after this
username10 I wonder how will they act now? Will they pretend the video doesn't exist?
↳username11 I feel like nothing will change, same hatred, same rivalry (even more now after both of their wins)
username12 I assume it was just a moment of weakness induced by the emotions
username11 And alcohol
username13 there's no way it didn't end in the hotel bed lol
username14 I'm tired of pretending I wasn't waiting for this to happen
username15 it feels like a fever dream lmao
yourusername We deserved a New York trip after the victories
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oscarpiastri This doesn't feel real
↳username1 exactly my thoughts 😭
landonorris well deserved, well enjoyed
↳yourusername You're not that terrible to be around, did you know that?
landonorris i'm still adjusting to your presence, can't say the same
yourusername Mean :(
landonorris i love you :)
yourusername Nice :)
username2 HE SAID THE BIG WORDS
username3 Ladies and gentlemen, Lando 'I don't wanna mature' Norris has matured
username4 God my brain can't comprehend what the hell happened
carlossainz55 The IT couple 👏🏆
↳landonorris of course
↳username5 Seems like they've been teaching Carlos the gen z expressions 😭
username6 I will miss the rivalry between them
↳username2 you really think it'll end?
username6 Yeah they'll go soft on each other
username2 Y/n is the second most competitive on the grid after Max, I don't think the rivalry between her and Lando will end 😂
maxfewtrell Finally
↳yourusername My 15yo self would say the same if she ever knew
maxverstappen1 @/landonorris pls don't affect her performance
↳landonorris pls let me be the cause of redbull's downfall, I've been plotting for years
yourusername It's not like I'll go easy on you now that you're my boyfriend
landonorris mean :(
yourusername I love you :)
landonorris nice :)
georgerussell63 Congrats on finally admitting your feelings guys
↳charles_leclerc We all knew it'll happen, we just didn't know when 😂
pierregasly @/charles_leclerc you owe me McDonald's
↳charles_leclerc We'll go after the season ends
landonorris you guys had a bet?
yourusername Of course they did, I'm so not surprised
charles_leclerc Max also participated.
yourusername @/maxverstappen1⁉️
maxverstappen1 I did participate in the bet...
yourusername How could you betray me like this!!
maxverstappen1 I like maccas, it convinced me
maxverstappen1 But we're all very happy for you if that makes it any better
yourusername Let's say it does...
landonorris i say we should beat his ass on the next race
yourusername I agree, it's settled 🏁 Max Emilian Verstappen, get ready to from now on forever be behind a mclaren and your fellow redbull
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#f1 smau#Lando Norris x reader#Lando Norris smau#Lando Norris social media au#formula 1 social media au#f1 social media au
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for the books | jeon wonwoo
summary | wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with.
genre | fluff, teacher!au
warnings | none, i think let me know!
word count | 2.2k words
pairing | jeon wonwoo x fem!reader
min | lowercase intended i literally put off my other works to write this! delulu era to the max! i advocate for women in stem!!! also! this is like an american high school-level setting. lily is so out of pocket LOL (believe it or not there is a girl just like her at my school). this was 100% self-indulgent
"mr. jeon!" his student lily called. "so you're telling me that after all that, she still hasn't kissed him?" he looked up from his desk and looked over to his obviously distraught student. "lily! i didn't even finish it yet!" her friend mina yelled at her.
"i'm sorry! it's just so crazy how they didn't even kiss! even after they made up and he said all of that to her!" lily huffed.
"what did he say to her? i haven't gotten there yet either," daniel piped in.
"just read it! i'm sorry i brought it up in the first place," lily sighed and pulled out the worksheets she was supposed to complete after reading the book. he shook his head and went back to inputting grades into his computer. it was silly to think lily was just going to do her work. "mr. jeon, do you have a girlfriend?" she asked putting her pencil down. he paused momentarily, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "dude, that's so not cool for you to ask mr. jeon," daniel complained.
"what? we're reading this romantic novel, is it not fair to ask our english teacher if he's in a relationship?" lily replied, crossing her arms. "i mean we have to be reading this book for some reason."
"maybe it's just a part of the curriculum," mina rolled her eyes.
"do you seriously think mr. jeon is sending us subminimal signals about his love life through the books we're reading?" daniel asked.
"i don't know! maybe!" lily said. the three of them continued to argue back and forth at their table. wonwoo should probably stop this before the other students get irritated with the trio. "guys, i can assure you, i am not sending any messages about my love life. please get back to your work," wonwoo cleared his throat. he heard a disappointed noise, but pencils went back to scratching and pages started flipping again. soon it was the end of the class period and everyone was packing up. it was just lily. "next time, please refrain from asking personal questions in class," he asked.
"yes, of course. i'm sorry mr. jeon," lily bowed her head.
"it's alright. it can just be a bit distracting for your classmates. let's try to be more considerate."
"will do," she said, turning on her heel.
"oh and lily, just between me and you," wonwoo paused. "i don't have a girlfriend."
"he said he wasn't in a relationship!" lily cheered. daniel stared at her baffled, "didn't he say not to tell anyone?"
"yeah, but i mean, he must know that i'm going to tell you guys. you guys don't seem as nearly as excited about this as i do."
"why would we be? he's single, it's not like you have a chance with him or something," mina commented.
"no! ew! i would never try to go after a teacher, are you crazy? i'm saying that this is a perfect opportunity for us to get mr. jeon a date!" lily practically squealed.
"a date? with who?"
"with miss ___, of course! who else? haven't you guys ever noticed that they spend almost every lunch period with each other? they're so cute together!"
"maybe they're just planning classes or something," daniel shrugged.
"um, hello? mr. jeon teachers english literature and miss ___ teaches physics b. what would they planning together?"
"touché."
"i think it's time to enact a master plan."
"so everyone understands this equation, right?" you said, turning back to face the class. "tell me now, so i can help. this equation is the very foundation to magnetism, if you don't get it now i can't promise you'll do well in this unit."
no one put their hand up. you smiled, "oh well, i guess we just have a bunch of physic masters in this class. but seriously, let me know if you need help. you can start working on your homework packet now, this way if you have questions you can ask them now. i don't need your frantic emails at midnight."
you returned to your desk and flipped through some lesson plans. you didn't get to finish eating lunch today, so you took out your lunch bag. a small slip of paper fell out of it and onto the ground. you smiled to yourself and reached down to pick it up. "miss ___!" your student lily said, she was standing at the foot of your desk.
"yes, lily?" you answered.
"i have a question about something."
"have at it."
"it isn't physics related though." you looked up, slipping the slip into your pocket. "then, what's it about? do you need to go to the nurse?" you frowned.
"no it's nothing like that, but i was told by another teacher not to ask questions like this in front of the whole class. he said it was inconsiderate," she shrugged.
"oh, um, well i guess you can go ahead."
"are you friends with mr. jeon?"
you froze. mr. jeon? as in english literature teacher mr. jeon? mr. jeon you eat lunch with him every day mr. jeon? maybe they started picking up on something. "well, yeah, i guess you could say that," you coughed. "why are you asking this all a sudden?"
"well, i came by mr. jeon's class before lunch to ask him about an assignment and i saw you there. i didn't want to interrupt, but i didn't know you guys were friends," she shrugged, averting her eyes.
"oh well, yes. mr. jeon started at his position around the same time i did a few years ago. so we got close because of that."
"that's so- i mean, i'm sorry to pry. i was just curious. i mean usually i don't see english teachers and physics teachers talk that much. thanks!"
the whole exchange left you a little baffled.
lily seemed determined to get you and wonwoo together. she began to pry more often and she was getting bolder one question at a time. she even asked if you were in a relationship and if you got you cute gifts for birthdays and holidays from your boyfriend. sometimes she got very bold and mentioned mr. jeon by name. "miss ___, don't you think mr. jeon is cute? you two would be so cute together." you had replied, "i don't think this is time or the place to talk about this, lily. please do your practice problems." you rolled your eyes, "i don't feel like i'm at liberty to answer that."
you couldn't bring yourself to actually discipline her or her friends (who had seemingly joined in on the deep dive about your love life). they were curious teenagers looking for gossip. hell, you were like that too. you felt it would be unfair to punish them for that, as long as it didn't get too inappropriate, you didn't mind. it was a bit endearing too.
you just had to push the thought out of your mind. it was time to go to lunch anyway. it was the perfect time to clear your head.
"has lily been asking you some personal questions lately?" wonwoo asked, leaning back in his chair. god, he looked so handsome today. his glasses, pressed shirt, and ironed pants. "yes, has she been causing a raucous here too?" you asked, taking a seat at one of the desks.
"well, she asked me if i think you're beautiful," he chuckled.
you paused. you would be lying if you said you didn't feel anything for the man sitting in front of you. he was smart and kind.
"of course, i told her you are a lovely human being inside and out, and to get back to doing her project."
"funny, she was telling me that she and her friends thought we'd make a cute couple." he laughed at that, and it made your chest flutter. you loved his laugh. "cute couple, that's so cute," he gasped.
"yeah i know right. who knew our students would start trying to set us up," you joked. he nodded in agreement getting up after his microwave went off from the other side of the room. "it would be so funny if they actually succeeded, but it does seem a bit pointless at this point, right?" he noted.
"yeah, totally pointless," you agreed.
you and wonwoo, being set up, by your students of all people. it sure would be for the books if it happened like that.
what an absurd idea.
the rest of the week went as usual, uneventful, but you did get to see wonwoo on the way out of the building and into the parking lot. he held his leather bag in his right hand. "on the way out today?" he asked. "don't you usually do tutoring sessions after school on fridays?"
"we just started a unit, and no one showed up after the fifteen-minute window. i'm out of here," you laughed. he smiled. you loved it when he smiled. "want to walk out together then?" he offered and pushed the door open for you. something about him was so calming and comforting. you smiled and averted your gaze to the floor. even after all these years, he made you a little nervous. you did miss the way he grinned when he caught your shy smile. he loved the way you smiled too. he couldn't wait to see it again, he needed to see it again as soon as possible. he was too lost in thought about the way you smile and the way your voice sounds, that he fell far behind you. "___, wait up," he called as you made your way through the faculty parking lot. he jogged to catch up to you and reached out to grab your hand.
"i swear i saw him kiss her out in the parking lot," daniel insisted. "they were holding hands too!" at this point, lily was totally unmotivated to get her two favorite teachers together. not after miss ___ shut her down on numerous occasions and mr. jeon was just as friendly but unbothered as ever giving his most PG answers. "whatever, daniel," lily huffed. "they would be so perfect together."
"he's literally telling you that they're together, he saw them kissing!" mina exclaimed. lily rolled her eyes. they were all hallucinating just to make themselves feel better that it was wishful thinking. "true love isn't real!" she cried.
"it's time to wake up, sweetheart," he mumbled. "you said you had lots of work to do today."
"yeah, well it's my day off too. i'll get to work later," his fiancé groaned.
"oh come on, i know you're desperate to do all that paperwork," he teased. he tugged on the warm body text to him to pull it closer to him. he loved waking up with his wonderful, beautiful, smart fiancé next to him.
he loved waking up next to you.
he knew the kids were asking about him and his love life. kids would be kids of course. "lily won't stop asking about my love life. it's funny since we both teach her," he said.
"i guess, she's never noticed the necklace with the ring hanging around my neck," you chuckled, nuzzling your face into wonwoo's neck. his arms easily wrapped around your body. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "you know, lily asked me if i had a girlfriend the other week," wonwoo murmured.
"she asked me if i had a boyfriend too," you hummed. "i just told her that it wasn't appropriate to ask that in class."
"i said something similar, but i did tell her i didn't have a girlfriend."
you paused. why would he say that? he was very obviously in a relationship, well obvious to the two of you. he even gave you a ring and a nice dinner to cement your relationship. "i obviously couldn't tell that i didn't have a girlfriend because i have a wonderful, smart fiancé," he laughed. you breathed an internal sigh of relief, but you still hit him in the chest. "that's so stupid," you groaned. "you're catching everyone on a technicality." he thought he was so clever and funny, ever the wordsmith.
"it's so hard not telling the students," wonwoo whispered, and you nodded your head in agreement. he didn't know why the two of you didn't tell the students yet, but the relationship started a bit secretively, almost right after the both of you were onboarded. he guessed the two of you never got out of the whole secret relationship. it was a bit exhilarating keeping the secret between you and him, and the admin. he felt like a teenager again. "maybe we should ease them into it, but let's not let them think it was all them," you said.
"maybe it's time for you to start wearing the ring on your finger then," he commented pulling away to get a better look at you. "i can't wait for you to become mrs. jeon," he smiled.
"yuck, so corny," you rolled your eyes with a smile. "you need to stop with these cheesy sayings early in the morning." nevertheless, you leaned forward and kissed him. he kissed back easily, "come on, i know you like the little notes i leave in your lunch."
"i do, now be quiet and just kiss me."
"gladly."
he did have the whole weekend until he had to go back to school. at least you made the day a little better.
min | im just in a silly goofy mood LOL. my poor attempt at humor and portraying what high schoolers are like. wonwoo being an english teacher just makes sense!!! reblogs and comments are always appreciated! not proofread at the moment (it's 1 in the morning)
tagging: @a-wandering-stay
#seventeen#wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#svt#seventeen fluff#wonwoo fluff#jeon wonwoo fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo x reader#seventeen scenarios#svt x reader#wonwoo fic#jeon wonwoo smut#wonwoo scenario#wonwoo imagines#seventeen wonwoo#seventeen reactions
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candid // colby brock
A/N: i know yall…. it’s been so long since i last posted anything. my apologies on that one. i just haven’t been in the mood to write anything. but shoutout to these pics of colby bc the moment i saw them, i knew i had to write a fic about them. this one is sweet and basically just a blurb, but i promise i’m coming out with a longer fic soon. i got a lot i gotta make up for, and this is just the beginning lol lmk what you think and hope you enjoy !
prompt: your boyfriend looks good one day and you decide you need to take a picture of him. || colby brock x reader
trigger warning: none, super sweet and fluffy 🙂
word count: 853
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You look so handsome today.” I smiled sweetly, staring up at Colby.
He glanced away from his phone to me, his brow furrowing sassily. “What?”
“I said you look handsome.” I repeated.
He looked down at what he was wearing: a big t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. His feet were bare, and his hair was not completely done the way he usually did it: straightened and with a bit of gel to keep it so. He had woken up from a nap an hour ago, his hair losing its flat texture for a more wavy, messy type.
He looked so beautiful, truly. But when didn't I think of him that way? I always found him beautiful, even well before we started dating.
He hid a smile at the corner of his mouth, “Really? I look a mess.”
“Not at all.” I shook my head, stepping closer to him.
He slid his phone into his pocket, locking eyes with me. His voice was low, bashful. “But you always say that about me. That I look nice…”
“Have I ever lied?” I questioned.
He twisted his face jokingly. “I feel like you probably have at least once.”
I gasped, swatting at him. “Absolutely not! You take that back.”
He grabbed my wrist, sliding his hand into mine. A playful smile rested on his lips. “You're too kind to me.”
“Maybe you need to see what you look like…” I pulled my hand from his grasp, taking my phone and pulling up the camera.
“Aww, c’mon babe. No.” He walked around the island in the kitchen, laughing halfheartedly.
I followed after him, “What? You don't want me to take a pic of you?”
“Not really, no.” He shook his head.
“Oh, coming from the guy that takes pics of me when I sleep?” I argued.
He turned to me, still backing away from me. “I only did that twice, and both times you looked so cute.”
I scoffed, “My hair was going in six different directions, and I was basically drooling!”
He grinned, his dimples appearing. “And you still looked beautiful to me.”
I held my breath; damn he was attractive… “Exactly how I feel about you.”
He groaned, covering his face. He stopped moving away from me however, leaning his one hip against the counter.
“Move your hands.” I grabbed his one arm, pulling it down. Both of his hands followed and I snapped a quick pic. His face was still partially covered, his eyes being the only part really showing.
“Maybe next time warn me about the flash. I'm blind now.” Colby blinked harshly, his eyes unfocused.
“Oh relax, you big baby.” I murmured, pulling up the pic. “See! Look how good you look.”
He gazed down at my screen, giving me a quizzical look. “You think I look good?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. He was so stubborn sometimes. “Yes.”
“My hair is so messy. I think I need a haircut.” He remarked.
I bit my lip, staring up at his hair. “I like when your hair is a bit messy.”
“I know you do. I don't, though.” He replied.
“What? I never knew that.” I deadpanned.
He glared down at me, rolling his eyes and walking to the living room.
“Let me take another one!” I called after him.
He huffed, walking through the living room. “No. No. I think we're good with the candids today.”
“C'mon Colby, I whined, catching up to him. “You really do look so nice. Just let me take one more.”
He reached the stairs, ready to go up. “I think one is enough.”
I cut him off, jumping in front of him on the stairs. “Please.... just one more.”
“Why are you so adamant about taking a picture of me?” He snorted.
“I don't know, babe. Maybe because you're my boyfriend, and I love you, and I want as many pics of you as I can get in this lifetime?” I admitted, placing my hands on my hips.
He turned his head to the side. “Really?”
“Yeah. Plus you look really hot.” I added, winking.
He stared at me, his piercing blue eyes playful. He sucked his teeth dramatically. “Fine. But just one more.”
“Okay. Just one more.” I lined my phone up, "Pose for me, baby."
He rolled his eyes, placing one hand on his face, the other on the banister. I took the picture quickly, whispering a perfect under my breath.
Colby leaned over me, looking down at the picture. I smiled brightly. “Aww, this one is so good. What do you think?”
“It's not too bad.” He mumbled, shrugging.
“You'll grow to like it, I bet. Especially since I'm making it my background.” I smiled, already changing it to my background.
He took his phone out, following my lead. “I'm gonna make the one of you sleeping my background then.”
“As if you haven't done that before.” I raised an eyebrow at him, our eyes meeting.
Colby smirked at me. His eyes softened and he leaned in, kissing my lips. “Love you.”
My face warmed at his touch. “Love you too.”
#colby brock#colby brock fic#colby brock fanfic#colby brock fanfiction#colby brock fluff#colby brock x reader#colby brock one shot#colby brock oneshot#colby brock blurb
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Promises (Rhysand x Reader)
Summary: You don't argue with your husband often, and never anything as serious as this. However, some things may be too hard to come back from.
Warnings: ANGST, mentions of Rhys' trauma from under the mountain
Word Count: 1.7k
Part 2
A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing for Rhys, but I apologize; this isn't the happiest thing! This takes place during ACOMAF, and I tried to keep it canon accurate. I may have diverged a little though! I really just needed to get some angst out from first week of school stress lol. If you ever want to interact with me my requests are open! As always constructive criticism is very welcome! I tried to makes this a realistic portrayl of real feelings and emotions. I hope you all enjoy even if it stamps on your heart a bit <3
You’re sitting at the dinner table in the Townhouse, nursing a glass of wine, when you feel your Husband’s power rumble into your bones. It normally feels comforting to you, but now all it does is further the knot of anxiety growing in your stomach.
It’s been a long week.
It was the first time that Rhys had called in his bargain with Feyre. You’ll always be eternally grateful for what Feyre did for your family, for your court, and the entirety of Prythian. It still didn’t stop the ugly jealousy that clawed at your insides at Rhys spending the week away from you with her. Especially after you learned about the dancing. You knew why it had to happen, you really did. He had explained everything to you in the tearful reunion after he returned from under the mountain.
You hope Amarantha burned in whatever hell she crawled out from.
“How was your first week,” you take another gulp of wine, trying to drown the spiders crawling up your throat.
“I think she’s making some progress. Tamlin isn’t even teaching her how to read! Can you believe that? Even after he saw it almost kill her and his supposedly beloved emissary.” He rubbed out the crease forming between his eyebrows, maneuvering around the kitchen as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. “She was paper thin and so so pale.” he shook his head as he knocked back the liquor.
“You didn’t come home the whole time.” You tried your best to keep the venom tamped down in your voice, you weren’t even really angry just confused. Judging by the way the muscles in his back tensed your endeavor had not been successful.
You knew he would have to call in this bargain eventually you just didn’t expect him to ignore you the entire time she was here. He could’ve taken you with him, you had even expressed interest in meeting Feyre. You had wanted to thank her personally for everything she did to you and extend an olive branch for her time in your court. Rhys had shut down the idea immediately because he thought she might have been overwhelmed.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he turned around and looked at you from his spot leaning against the counter. You didn’t look at him, staring straight at the grooves on the table. You sensed the defensive tone immediately. Rhys almost looks like a cat with all the hair raised on its back. Feline eyes sizing you up like he’s about to pounce on you.
“I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have come home to even sleep. When I tried to reach you mind to mind your shields were up.” Your nails dig into the wood, leaving crescent marks in the pine. Rhys doesn’t have an answer for that when you meet his eyes. It almost looks like he’s looking through you instead of at you.
“I didn’t want to leave her alone in case she tried to jump out a window.” He says the answer matter-of-factly. It’s the same tone you heard him use during the conferences he held with the citizens. He wasn’t exactly brushing you off, but it didn’t feel like he was listening to you either.
“Why couldn’t you have just told me that?” Your voice cracked. You have been married to Rhys for almost one hundred years. You could tell when he was being shifty, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from you. Judging from that regretful look in his eye you were correct.
“I thought you would react poorly. Clearly, I was correct.” The clipped tone is enough to send a white-hot bolt of anger through your body.
“Do not blame your poor communication skills on me Rhysand.” The glare you fixed him with could have brought the monster that lurks in the bottom of the library to its knees, but Rhys just met your eyes with a steeled look of his own.
“She needed help. She was begging somebody to come rescue her. She was withering away in the Spring Court! You know how many times I’ve been pulled from bed because she’s vomiting during the night-” Rhys sounded exasperated. But you were tired, so tired.
“You’ve barely come to bed since you’ve been back.” Your voice was hardly more than a whisper, but the deafening silence that followed your words made it sound like an explosion. You knew it was a low blow. Rhys sometimes couldn’t stomach sleeping in your bed after what Amarantha did to him. After he was startled awake one night a bolt of his power shot your sleeping form out of the bed because, in his nightmare-filled haze, he had mistaken you for her. He had felt awful, and now mostly slept in one of the guest rooms in fear that he would cause serious damage to you. You had tried to convince him, but he knew how powerful he could be, so you relented.
“You don’t get to throw that in my face right now.” The growl that came from your husband sounded like cold black death. “She needs to be trained. She needs help-” all the pent-up emotion started to boil over inside you. Your airway got smaller, white noise was sounding through your head, and your eyes couldn’t focus on a spot infront of you.
“I DO NOT CARE WHAT FEYRE NEEDS!” the boom in your voice surprised even you. Rhys took a step back, you rarely even raised your voice, let alone yelled at him. His eyes widened, but his flood of emotions quickly matched yours.
“SHE SAVED ME! I PROMISED TO KEEP HER SAFE!” The way Rhy’s voice ricocheted off the walls made you flinch. The pure night-kissed power had stolen the warmth from the room and all the air from your lungs.
“You made promises to me too. Do you remember that?” your voice echoed out with calm fury as you slipped your ring off your finger and held it up to the light. “Do you remember the promises you made to me when you put this ring on my finger?” You didn’t even know where the rage was coming from, You weren’t angry, but it grabbed ahold like cold unforgiving ocean waves and kept pulling you farther into the eye of the hurricane. “You pledged to me your undying loyalty, your faithfulness, your honesty.” That last word coated your tongue in acid.
It burned you and Rhys as it left your mouth.
“Do you truly believe I have been unfaithful to you?” his voice grated out like shards of glass. However, in your current state, it seemed more condescending than questioning.
“I believe you are not being honest with me. I have been married to you for practically 100 years, and have known you even longer. Do you think I don’t know when you’re not telling me something?” You shot up from your seat and slammed your wedding ring on the table. His violet shield slipped for just a moment to see the hurt flash in his eyes. You haven’t taken that ring off since he gave it to you.
“You are being irrational.” Rhys tried to step towards you, but you only backed away from him, shaking your head as tears welled up in your eyes.
“Why are you being so secretive about Feyre? She is engaged Rhys-you took her from her wedding. If she truly needed help why not bring her to Velaris? Why not let her meet me? Why not let her be happy with Tamlin?” The questions kept pouring out but the protective growl Rhysand made at your last statement had you recoiling. He had given himself away. He obviously knew it too, as he tried to step towards you. The tears kept pouring out as you shook your head. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Right now.” Rhys finally hung his head in defeat as he slumped into one of the chairs. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as he stared at your trembling figure from the other side of the table.
“She is my mate.” Your eyes widened in horror. It felt like the dinner you made earlier tonight was going to make another appearance on your kitchen floor. “She is my mate and I don’t know what to do.”
“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?” Your voice was shaking with scarcely contained fury as you stormed up to the table. “I am your wife. I am your people’s queen. What more is there to think about? I thought you loved me.” A new wave of tears washed over you, and you swear you could hear your heart breaking. It was so loud. You wonder if Rhys could hear it too.
“Of course I love you!” he looked at you with desperation and pleading in his eyes. “It’s just more complicated.” You shook your head at him as your sobs finally flowed out of your body.
“It shouldn’t be complicated,” you heaved out through the tears “You promised to choose me every day. If you can’t do that I can’t be here.” You turn from the table and march up the stairs. You distantly hear Rhys get up and follow you to your room as you shove clothes inside a bag.
“What are you doing? You’re not leaving, are you?” His eyes widened in horror as he tried to grab the items out of your hands. “Darling-”
“Do not call me that right now.” You manage to sniff out the words behind the tears. “I just can’t be here if you cannot choose me. There shouldn’t even be a question.”
“Where will you go?” He at least had it in him to sound concerned about your well-being.
“I don’t know, anywhere but here.” You shoved the last thing in your suitcase and winnowed away without another word. You left Rhysand in your house, with your ring sitting on the table. He found himself sitting at the kitchen table for the rest of the night, nursing a bottle of whisky and running over the cool sapphire with the pad of his thumb. He didn’t know if you were ever coming back. He didn’t know where you went.
What the fuck had he done?
#acomaf#acotar#acowar#acotar imagine#acosf fanfiction#rhysand#rhys acotar#rhysand x reader#rhys x reader#rhysand imagine
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mean
REMUS LUPIN x FEM READER
summary full moon turns your remus into someone unrecognisable
warnings angst probably, probably inaccurate hp facts, bad writing, not proofread, probably a piece of trash i just needed it out of my drafts lol
a/n it has been SO long since i've written for hp so it's probably full of inaccuracies 😭 take everything with a grain of salt and PLEASE send in more requests ily
masterlist
james has a shit-eating grin on his face when you walk in.
“oh, bloody hell. what is it now?” you groan as you flop onto your boyfriend's, remus's, bed.
"wait till you see what pads did to snape's robes." james reveals, unable to contain his grin.
"oh c'mon, jamie. when are you guys gonna get tired of picking on him? you guys are gonna get in serious trouble one day, i'm tellin ya." you sigh as you try to find a comfortable position to sit in.
just then, the door swings open to reveal sirius and your beloved boyfriend, remus. sirius has his usual smirk, while remus looks a little more down than usual. you check the date on the calendar next to his bed and realises it's almost full moon.
he takes off his shoes and slides into his bed next to you. you snuggle up next to him, and he rests an arm around your shoulder.
"should we go to hogsmeade this weekend?" james suggests, and you nod, saying animatedly, "yes please. i need new quills, and i'd like to pop by honeydukes."
usually, remus chides you for the sheer amount of sugar you consume. this time, he remains silent. this is your first clue that something's wrong.
while james and sirius argue over nothing, you turn to face remus, eye full of concern. you ask, "remmy, are you okay? you've barely said a word all day."
"i'm fine," he replies. you're left puzzled, by the lack of endearment. but you decide not to push any further, turning your attention back to the book you had just picked off his nightstand.
"is that my book? why are you always touching my things?" remus snatches the book out of your hands, only to receive perplexed glances from james and sirius.
"oi, loosen up, moony. it's just a book, don't be mean." james stands up for you. so does sirius, saying, "yeah moony, don't be an arse."
remus just ignores them.
an hour passes, and so does about four different conversation between james, sirius and you. remus has barely spoken a word, and you're getting more and more concerned by the second.
"remmy, are you sure you're okay? are you feeling unwell?" you ask, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead.
"i'm fine, stop worrying," he says, curt. you're a bit shocked, by the tone he's taken with you and the way he barely looks at you.
"oh, merlin. do you ever shut up? all you do is talk and talk and talk. will you leave me alone for one bloody second?" remus snaps at you.
james and sirius immediately stop talking, and stare at remus in shock. remus worships the ground you walk on, never in a million years would they imagine him talking to you like this.
you're equally shocked yourself. you knew remus had a short temper around full moon, but his anger was never, never, directed towards you.
you get up from the bed and it takes everything for you to not cry in front of your friends. you say softly, "i think i'm going to go back to my room. goodnight, guys."
"dove, wait," remus calls out, his voice apologetic.
you pretend you don't hear him and walk out of the door, not looking back once.
—
when you push open the door to your dorm room, with tears streaming down your face, lily immediately beckons you over to her bed.
"oh, dear. what happened now?" she asks gently, holding you in her arms as she strokes your hair.
"boys are assholes." you grumble.
"tell me something i don't know." lily chuckles.
she holds you as you cry. she silently vows to not let remus near you any time in the next few weeks.
—
and just as she promised herself she would, lily had you surrounded with friends for the next few weeks, making it impossible for remus to reach you, or for you to reach him.
full moon had come and gone, and it killed you to know that you weren't there for remus while he went through it.
you weren't left to dwell on it for long, with all your friends always surrounding you, keeping you occupied.
remus, however, was left to stress over the fact that he hadn't been able to make it up to you, and not for a lack of trying. with lily and your friends around you round the clock, he never had an opportunity to approach you without death glares from four different girls.
his opportunity arises when you fall off your broom while playing quidditch.
—
"madam pomfrey, i'm fine, please, let me go back o—" you plead, only to be cut off.
"nonsense, dear. you need to be kept for observation. i won't have you go back out to play." she shakes her head, and disappears to tend to another student.
the door creaks open, and you see a familiar face poke in.
your boyfriend, whom you haven't spoken to in three weeks.
he has a sheepish look on his face as he sits down on the chair next to the bed you're lying on.
"dove, i'm so sorry. i shouldn't have snapped at you like that, especially not in front of our friends. i was stressed, but it's still no excuse for the way i treated you. i hope you can forgive me." he says, gently taking your hand in his.
you let out a sigh, saying, "it was really mean, remmy."
"i know, i know, dove. and i'm so, so sorry. i should have never spoken to you that way. I'll never speak to you like that ever again, swear. else you can chop my balls off, i swear." he replies, giving you a small smile.
"fine, remmy. but you're an absolute arse, i hope you know that."
"i promise you i do." he replies as he presses a kiss into your hair.
#📓—juniwrites#marauders#marauders era#remus lupin#remus lupin angst#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin imagine#harry potter
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I’m half asleep while writing this and laughing my ass off while imagining this lol.
Imagine you’re arguing with Rhys over something stupid and you start to realize you’re wrong but won’t admit it so you just flash him your breasts and his mind just short circuits and completely forgets about the argument.
He wouldn’t know what to do with himself lol
It took me way too long to type this out. I just needed to get this out of my head before I fell asleep and forgot it.
OMG! I actually love this idea and have been thinking about it since you sent it. Like I cannot stop thinking about Rhys and all you all are fueling my LOVE for this male!!!! Send help!!!!
Arguing with Rhysand
to be honest, do I think you and Rhys have arguments over serious stuff frequently? No, absolutely not. For the most part, if you guys have an argument, it tends to be something that is resolved with a short, heated conversation and then hours of you both making it up to each other, especially with him on his knees with your legs thrown over his shoulders.
And you guys tend to agree with each other on the more serious stuff. You work together as a couple and as high lord and lady of the night court to solve some of the most complicated matters regarding the state of your court and inter-court relations.
But!!! I do think you tend to start silly arguments with him to mess with him. Rhys needs to be taken off his high horse, the arrogant male he can be, and who better perfect to do that than his mate, the love of his life, the brightest star in his night sky??
It would kinda go something like this:
"C'mon Rhysie, you can't be serious," with your arms folded over your chest, annoyed at your mate who is settled on the bed, long strong legs crossed with his arms behind his head, a smug glint in his pretty violet eyes.
"Oh Darling, you know I am right." his eyebrows are lifted, urging you to argue back with him, his fucking smirk sending tingles down your spine.
"No Rhysand. Honestly, you aren't," you tilt your chin up, hurrumphing at your mate. You honestly are shocked your mate is arguing with you about this.
The high lord of night court, death incarnate, the darkness of the night, is truly, actually, arguing with you that he cooks better than you.
That fucking feline, arrogant bastard.
"You couldn't even cook until I came into your life," you hiss at him, rolling your eyes at him when he snorts, his face bright as he throws his tattooed forearm over his eyes in obvious amusement.
"And?" he says, peaking out from under his arm with another smile tugging at his lips.
"And???" you gasp. That fucking...
"I cannot believe you right now, my lord," the last bit is muttered mockingly.
His nose scrunches, "Not the 'my lord' darling, it really is not that serious. It's okay my love. I cook better than you and that is okay. You don't even need to cook darling, you only ever have to sit with me while I cook and look pretty, as you always do."
"I just... you are so mean to me. I cannot believe you are even telling me this, like... I obviously cook so much better than you," your foot is tapping on the floor, and you're shifting from side to side, arms still crossed over your chest as you glare over at your mate who is clearly finding this entire encounter far too entertaining.
Rhys huffs out another laugh, sitting up and beckoning you to come to him by tapping at the empty space next to him in your bed, "C'mere darling, it's alright, I just have more of a refined palate than you, and that means that I cook better."
You gasp at the audacity. "Rhysand!" You cannot believe this male.
His eyes twinkle with the stars of his court, "Sweetheart?"
"Take it back. Right now. I can cook better. I have cooked far longer, and I can cook a variety of things. Like roast chicken, and braised beef, and rice, and bread, and- "
"Are you telling me that I do not come home to windows that are open from you airing out the smoke of the bread you quite often burn to a crisp?" He stands from the bed, slowly approaching you like you are a frightened deer about to run off, hands raised like he is all innocent and is not being a complete baffoon right now.
Your mouth falls open, "You did not just go there," -- "Oh I did just go there beautiful" -- "You did not just go there! You asshole!" -- "Am I wrong gorgeous?" -- "I cannot even look at you right now." -- "C'mere pretty girl, I miss you"
"Oh no, you did this to yourself, don't even think about it, Mister." you sneer, backing away until you hit the wall, desperately thinking of a way to get him to take back his words.
"S'alright angel, c'mere. Come to your most handsome, darling high lord and tell him he cooks better than you, it's okay, you can admit it."
THE FUCKING NERVE OF THIS MALE. YOU CANT BREATHE.
And then it hits you.
As he continues to goad you, "C'mon baby, say it, Rhysand is the better cook, your mate is the better cook, your love is the better cook," finally reaching you, placing his hands on either side of you on the wall as he leans down, staring down at your with his heated breathe and pretty smile brushing over your lips.
"that's it love, c'mon, just a simple five words, 'you are the better co-"
His voice trails off into the ether, his pupils blowing, his hands splayed out next to you clenching into fists as he tightens his jaw, eyes utterly entranced by your tits that you decided to flash at him.
You lift up your brow, smirking at him while leaning back to give him a better view of your tits, "you were saying dear?"
He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, eyes not wavering from your pert breasts, the cool breeze sneaking in from the balcony tightening your nipples, "What?"
Your hand comes to rest on his chest, pushing at him with no success, the male stuck in place, the air surrounding you suddenly charged, "What is it you were saying Rhysie?"
"I uhh, I dunno love, I... you... you are..."
"Yes?" you peak up at him through your eyelashes, his chest heaving as he gazes down at you, hooded eyes finally meeting yours.
He hums, "You are exquisite darling," his arm sneaking around your waist to pull you flush against him, your tits rubbing at his bare chest when he presses his lips to your ear, "You are enchanting, and bewitching my mate."
anyway, uhhhh, by the time you are through with him, he does not remember ever saying he was the better cook. But he swears to you and the mother that if it gets you to ride him like that again, he will say it until the day you both become stardust.
Sorry this wasn't that good, but you get the drift I hope
#rhysand x reader#rhysand acotar#rhysand fanfic#rhysand headcanons#rhys x reader#rhysand#pro rhys#rose rambles#rose writes#rose answers#acotar#acotar fluff#acotar fanfic#rhys fanfic
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Hello plz feel free to replace my Eunbi ask with a Rose daddy kink feet smut. She has maybe my fave feet for K idol and I dream of the day I can see this smut published. White polish Rose feet stuff, licking, sucking, tasting, feet fucking ofc, and also getting her pussy pounded cumming inside, but also cumming all over her feet. Plot line you can decide. Thanks QT.
The Interview
Male Reader x Roseanne Park
Length: 2188 words
Tags: feet kink, cheating, daddy kink, an interview gone wild, infidelity, fucking feet, feet licking, footjob, masturbation, creampie, hair pulling, cum drinking, rough sex, folding in half
TW: no editing lol
(A/N: the final request of my first request phase back in early 2022. This one is so old, sorry that you had to wait for so long buddy @sooyadelicacies. I hope you enjoy it lol)
"Are you not going to start the interview? Or are you just going to stare at my feet all day?"
"W-well, it's hard to focus, like, your legs are literally pointing down at them. Your sandals barely hide the rosie!"
Rose rolls her eyes. Slender arms folded like a pretzel, she leans back into the beige cushion of her chair, fifteen-hundred, made for her ass and her ass alone. In annoyance she watches her useless boyfriend put the back of his pen on her calves but even a heavy sigh does not stop his advance. In one continuous trail, he drags the pen to her knee before she stops him with a snarky remark.
"Will you stop it? This is important to me. I need your focus on this." She taps the clipboard in his hand, knowing all too well that his horny ass has not written down a single practice question. "Please practice this with me."
"Nah, I'd much rather practice with my cock in your pussie, Rosie~" he responds, face in a smirk so disgustingly self-satisfied at his pathetic attempt at a joke that no one would argue with him looking downright ugly. Rose turns to the side, arms entangled rightly.
"You don't give a fuck about this, hm?" Rose fires back and grips her boyfriend's wrist. "We can fuck afterwards, but not now. I need your help, so please, at least try to act like a journalist."
There he goes again, blank stare focussed on her feet, her face, turning to a smirk as he finds another horny rebuttal:
"I'm no journalist, I'd much rather be an explorer. I could write books about how smooth your legs feel and how tight your pussy is."
"He is a journalist, he can surely write better than you can ever dream off!"
Rose's shout makes the room go quiet. Not that there were more people anywhere near them—but it feels like every atom has stopped moving and only motionless, perfect silence remains. Her boyfriend sinks backwards into the couch, arms folded the same way she has, an eyebrow raised in more than light concern.
"Oh. It's a guy doing the interview?"
#
"Are you not going to start the interview? Or are you just going to stare at my feet all day?"
You straighten your neck, terrified at Rose’s carelessly spoken words. It was only for a fleeting moment that your eyes caught her bare feet, the way her slender legs seem to point down at them, it was impossible not to look. You could promise her that this was only because she decided not to wear any shoes, which would have explained it, but nonetheless, you are in deep shit.
“Excuse my behavior, please,” you quickly respond, beads of sweat forming at the side of your temple. “I was just spacing out. I know I shouldn’t, but please, forgive me.”
“You’re taking this too seriously,” Rose laughs and leans back into her chair. “Is this your first interview with…”
“With someone of your caliber—yes, though I have never felt nervousness rise in me to the point such a mistake happens. I really am sorry.” You bow your head to the idol, hoping to overplay any and every thought of her thinking that you’re thinking about her feet in all kinds of ways. “Shall we begin?”
You pull out your recording device, ready to hit play and make this the professional question and answer session it was supposed to be, but Rose interjects. God knows what she is thinking when she leans forward, slender fingers right above your thigh, voice husky and deep.
“You want them on your cock, right?”
“What?!”
“You want my feet around your cock, right
“Daddy?”
“E-excuse me?!”
“I can see you drooling.” Rose captures a string of saliva with her thumb, blowing away your coverage behind decency, and spreading it over your dry lips. “I can see the want in your eyes when you look at my feet. Aren’t they pretty?”
“R-Rose, this is highly—”
"Inappropriate?" she asks, a look of brattiness and disappointment on her stunning features as her pointy, purple painted nail pokes your cheek. “Inappropriate, like staring at a lady’s feet while fantasizing about them?”
“I-I told you I’m sorry. A-and I was not fantasizing in the slightest.”
Your explanation ends with a wince. The pointy ends of Rose’s delicate fingers sink into the skin of your neck. You throw your head back. The pain is sharp, severe enough that you want it to end, but your hands still tightly hold onto the clipboard and recording device.
“Now you’re lying, Daddy.” Rose repeats that damn word without care. “Why can’t you admit that you like my feet?”
“Because…” you stammer, trying to escape the idol by sinking deeper into the couch, but Rose gets closer to you. Her face right above yours, her thighs trapping yours, her other hand is right on your—
“Because then I wouldn’t be able to hold back!”
Rose is gone, the small of her back back in her seat, her entire body far away from yours. Her entire body? No. You could never forget about her bare feet, which she raises from the carpet and places them on your piping hot bulge. In an attempt at torture, she giggles while rubbing you in between her tiny toes, curling them, pressing them against the head of your hidden cock.
“What if I don’t want you to hold back?” she whispers and fiddles with the top of her dress.
“Rose, I—”
"Don’t talk, Daddy, just
“Take me.”
Drop these useless devices, there will be no record of what is about to happen. Rose’s last sentence has ended the interview before it even started. If you can’t talk with your mouth, your hands will have to do the talking. Nothing stops you from popping open your dress pants, yanking them down your legs, your bulge the only real(ly massive) obstacle, and getting a hold of Rose’s feet.
She smiles, pale cheeks blushing at your sight and the feeling of your cock on her soles. You adjust them, making a perfect pocket to thrust into, but before you can jerk your hips upwards, Rose has taken the lead with this absolutely dreamy look in her eyes.
“Oh Daddy~” Rose moans and moves her feet up and down your length. “You are so big and girthy. Let me worship you with my feet, pretty please.”
“I-I… you’re already doing it, Rosie,” you hiss, her soft soles feeling incredible, yet you wish for some kind of lubrication for things to go smoothly.
Rose nods, her breathing getting more rapid by the second: “It’s just that I—I can’t hold back anymore. Daddy, I need to make you cover my feet, Daddy!”
Not holding back, not holding back, not—you grab Rose’s left calf and as she still yelps in shock, you put her toes in your mouth. With all manners thrown out of the window, you slobber all over her pretty little foot, spit covering every inch of her spotless skin. Rose starts to moan, her other foot teasing the sensitive underside of your shaft, forcing droplets of clean precum out of the tip.
Done with one foot, you take the other and everything leads up to this vicious cycle of covering one foot in drool while the other massages your member, smearing it with your saliva. You take a second to open your eyes and look at the idol before you. She has melted into the chair, biting the fingers of one hand while the other is rubbing her clothed crotch.
"Take them off," you mindlessly groan, before your tongue twirls around her toes. "Take off your clothes for Daddy."
Rose is eager to nod at you using the uncalled for, yet not unwanted nickname. Her eagerness does not stop there however, as she is quick to get rid of her tight white outfit, the thin strings fly over her head, her skirt travels down her legs. Before they reach her feet, she starts to jerk you off, keeping you hard and horny the few short seconds without stimulation.
"Daddy, please plaster your thick cum on my feet!" Rose moans as she inserts two fingers into her cunt.
"I won't hold back."
Pull her ankles close to you. Rose almost falls off her chair, eyes in surprise, then bliss. She is piercing herself open, her fragile legs weak, fully under her control. She loses her mind, you help her lose it and you lose your mind, she helps you lose it and you lose your train of thought—fuck it, fuck her feet.
"Daddy, y-you really seem to like me feet~"
"Fuck, they are the softest."
Move your hips back and forth, her ankles forth and back, squeeze them tighter around your cock. Watch your tip poke through it, watch Rose's finger move in and out, watch her tongue fall out of her mouth. It's all getting you closer, your breathing is rapid, Rose's too. Is she also—
"Daddy, I'm so~close~" the idol mewls and you thrust faster.
"Finger yourself stupid!" you command. "Watch me paint your feet, fuck!"
Rose's eyes tremble. She can barely focus on your erupting cock as her own sex explodes in a violent, squirting orgasm that leaves her thighs and chair in a messy, wet puddle. A deep, echoing, dumb sounding scream comes from her wide open mouth. She is the opposite of you, quietly relishing in the bliss of a climax that sends strings of cum all over soles, feet, even up to her legs.
Before the tremble of Rose's legs makes your semen fall off of them onto the carpet, you quickly fold her in half. The surprisingly flexible woman now has her cum-covered feet dangling above her delirious, glowing face.
"Open your mouth, baby girl," you whisper and watch Rose instinctively stick out her tongue. Your cum drips from her thin legs and feet straight on her face. Rose licks off whatever she can get in desperate desire, while you poke her exposed labia with your stiff cock.
"How does it taste?" you jokingly ask, ready to penetrate her pristine pussy.
"Is this really the first question to your interview?"
"There was an interview?"
Oh fuck.
"Oh fuck!" Rose vocalizes your inner thought as her pussy engulfs your entire length. You can feel her sensitive walls wrap around you, cling onto you, like she wants to squeeze more of your initial load out of you. No, you first have to get there, but with this incredible tightness and her insanely lewd expression as she swallows your dripping cum, she will have you cumming in no time.
"F-forget the interview," Rose whines. "I'll send you the answers per, per mail."
"No, we'll do the interview. Now," you growl at her, fingers tightly grabbing her small thighs. "You'll answer truthfully, baby girl."
"Hng, I-I can't think!"
"No need to. Just tell me: who fucks you better?"
"Wha—ah!"
Rose screams, laughs when you tickle her feet by spreading the remnants of your first load over her soles. Through all of it you start to thrust slower but harder, the depths of her cunt spread widely by your tip. You watch Rose throw her head back and decide to ask again.
"Who fucks you better, Rose? Your boyfriend or me?"
"You, oh God, you!"
"And who did you wear this white polish for?"
"Y-you, I'm only fucking you."
You ponder for a second, resting a hand on her throat. Rose suddenly has these puppy eyes that lack lewdness but increase your desire to dump a ridiculously large second load in her tight cunt.
"God, you look so breedable," you groan and lean down to her face, strands of rose-gold hair not hiding but increasing her stunningness. "But remember: I'm the one fucking you."
"Yes, Daddy." Rose seems to brace for a hard final fucking, but you don't want to give it to her. You feel great, fully inside her small pussy, her juices around you, keeping you wet and warm.
"Final question, Mrs. sluttiest idol:
"Where do you want my seed?"
"I need it in my pussy, Daddy~"
"You need it?"
"Of course, Daddy~ Fill me up!"
A loving thumb crazing her cheek, that's your final showing of mercy. Her ponytail in one hand, clit pinch with the other, you start to jackhammer into Rose's pussy with all the power the word 'Daddy' has given you. You won't be able to keep this up for long, but Rose is already a mess, nothing compared to the powerful idol from before.
She wants to be the little messy nothing on the chair, drilled by a big cock, her painted feet high in the air, her pussy convulsing. That's the way she wants to milk you, get your seed, and with a final thrust (and final, very harsh pull on her hair) you start to cum inside her.
"So warm, Daddy, ah!"
Fuck the interview or Fuck: The Interview? you think as you see you either losing your job or having the most incredible career of anyone in this industry.
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prompt idea! dramatic confession of love in the rain with friends to lovers reader & eddie. maybe like arguing outside about the fact that somethings been off with one of them & demanding an answer, love confessing ensues then BAM! rain kiss 🫢
i love this request so much, i adore writing love confessions! ♥ | 1.7k words (got a little carried away lol)
It started with a simple question.
"Do you mind getting another ride home today?" Eddie had said.
You didn't mind, not really. Of course, you used to take every opportunity to spend time with him, but you could understand that he had his own life and sometimes his plans didn't line up with yours. It was okay.
When he explained the reason behind the question, however, you felt yourself wither and dwindle like a dying flower.
"I'm going to take Aubrey home, so...you know."
You did know. Aubrey lived on the other side of town, completely off the route you and Eddie took to get home every day. He wasn't just giving her a ride; it was something. Something else. Maybe some kind of date, even.
Date.
You felt your heart three times heavier as you forced a smile and said, almost capable of hearing the tiny pieces of it tinkling inside your own chest, "Oh, sure. It's okay."
And then, before you could stop yourself, you did the stupidest thing one could possibly do; you had asked.
"So…did she ask you out on a date or something?"
You'd poked him in the ribs playfully then, trying to look more relaxed than you really felt as the words left your mouth.
If Eddie noticed it, he didn't let it show. He actually laughed, looking a little embarrassed, and replied, "Actually, I kind of asked her."
Wonderful.
You couldn't stop your eyebrows from rising then, whatever's left of your heart from breaking. You tried to avoid looking like the kicked puppy you felt. Probably didn't succeed as much as you'd like to say.
In general, you were good at doing this — you'd been doing it ever since you realized your feelings for Eddie Munson went far beyond a mere affection between two good friends. It was almost second nature — both being in love with him and hiding it.
Eddie hadn't noticed anything wrong when you smiled that day, just as he doesn't notice anything wrong with the smile you're giving him now, in the school hallway, a week later.
He's so blind when it comes to you.
"I'm not going home with you today," you tell him, closing your locker and packing your backpack carefully.
It's been no less than torture letting Eddie drive you around in his van for the past few days; his van, where everything smells like him, where he strikes up conversations and tells jokes and makes you laugh like everything is fine.
Because everything is fine to him. You're the one who couldn't help but fall in love. Like an idiot.
You didn't want to risk him finding out that whatever he had going on with Aubrey made you jealous, though, so you'd forced yourself to let him pick you up and drive you home from school every day while he remained blissfully unaware.
He seems surprised when your words sink in.
"No?"
"I have to go somewhere else first," you lie. It comes off easily when you're not looking at him.
"It's all right, I'll go with you."
"No, it's fine. I think it'll take a little while."
"I don't mind."
Smile, just smile. "Eddie, really, it's okay."
"It's raining a lot," he argues, looking awfully worried. "You can't just walk home. Do you even have an umbrella with you?"
"Yes," another lie. It's downhill from here, you can tell. "Don't worry."
You feel like you're going to get burned any moment now if you don't get away from Eddie.
Most people have already gone home — you've been studying in the library and Eddie's been at Hellfire with the boys, so you two had stuck behind. The empty hallway makes everything seem worse somehow, his worried gaze on you heavier.
He lets you take three steps before grabbing your arm.
"Wait," he says, brows furrowed, eyes searching for something in your expression. Whatever it is, he finds it. "Something's wrong. What's wrong, Y/N?"
Eddie never had much of a sense of personal space — he's invading yours now, very much, and everything just got a lot more complicated; his fingers around your elbow are warm, the eyes that stare back at you are kind. He smells the same as always: leather, spearmint, cigarette smoke masked by cheap cologne.
You look at your arm and wonder what are the odds you'll be able to break free and walk out the front door without him following you. Not good.
"Nothing," you manage to say. "Nothing is wrong. What are you talking about?"
Perhaps the fake smile is losing its power, you think, because Eddie doesn't look like he'd be giving up anytime soon.
"Something is off with you these days," he insists.
"Eddie, look, I need to go-"
"Have I done something wrong?"
"What?" you sound horrified, because you are horrified; as if Eddie would ever be able to intentionally hurt you. It would have been funny if you weren't so sad. "No, of course not!"
"Then why are you avoiding me?"
"I'm not, I-" It's hard to get the words out with him so close, with his hand on your arm, with his eyes on yours-
Oh, how you'd like to disappear right now.
“Did I forget something?” Eddie looks terribly guilty, even though there's nothing to blame himself for. "Your birthday is still pretty far, so-"
You hate this.
"Eddie-" you try, but he's too far inside his own head to hear. He's probably going over a list of things he could have done to make you mad right now.
“-did we make any plans that I forgot?”
"No, I-"
“Did I say something wrong? Shit, I did, didn’t I?”
“Eddie-”
"-I'm sorry if I said- I don't know what I said, but I am sorry, I-"
“I love you.”
It's a mistake. You instantly know that, you know that the very moment the words leave your mouth without permission, a confession you never meant to make. One look at the way Eddie's entire body seems to tense up, at how his lips freeze mid-sentence, parted but not uttering any words, any sound... it's more than enough to tell you it was a fucking mistake.
Time seems to slow down, each second stretching impossibly beyond normal. The only sound that can be heard is the rain. Heavy, rhythmic, coming down without pause.
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
You pull your arm back and pretty much run towards the door as if you might distance yourself from the stupid words you just blurted out by doing so.
You think you hear a mumble of "shit" behind you, but you don't stop to look, don't turn around to be sure. Your eyes are prickling and you can taste the tears that ain't coming.
Rain. You're still running anyways. You're soaked and still running, stumbling because it's hard to see through the storm now, hair sticking to your neck, heavy breathing pushing your chest up and down, your face wet from both the rain and your tears.
The rain...almost as cruel as whoever was responsible for making you fall in love with a friend like Eddie.
A friend who's now calling your name — a yell in the distance muffled by the sound of the rain and of your breaking heart. You ignore it. You can't look at him. Not now.
He insists.
“Shit! You- you can't just tell me you love me and walk away! HEY!”
You avoid the hand that tries to grab your arm this time and keep walking across the parking lot as fast as you can.
But did luck ever stay on your side?
No.
Your head bumps right into Eddie's chest.
He holds you by the shoulders, palms gentle on your now cold skin, eyes gentler when you lift your chin up to look at him. You try to back away, attempting to squirm out of his grasp.
Not this time, though. Eddie holds you tight this time.
"Are you out of your mind?" he says, shouting to be heard over the storm...or maybe just because he's angry. "You can't just storm off like that with weather like this!"
Eddie's hands slide along your arms and then drop from your fingers.
He's taking his leather jacket off.
You take a step to the right to try and go around him, seizing the opportunity; he, however, steps to the left and holds the jacket over your head — as if you weren't already soaked from head to toe. As if he wasn't soaked from head to toe, too.
Eddie looks angry.
And too close.
Of course he looks angry, you think, I blew it.
“Eddie-”
“You're an idiot,” he says. “How could you just take off running like that? You could get fucking pneumonia out here!”
“I didn't mean to-” he's close, very close, and you feel silly, high, dizzy. Everything and nothing at the same time. The words you want to say are lost inside your mind like a paper boat drifting at the sea.
Eddie is still holding his damn jacket over your head like the goddamned gentleman he is.
Despite the closeness, you feel like you need to yell in order to be heard, your voice high and hoarse. “Just let me go!”
You try again and again, but he skillfully foils every one of your plans to walk away from him.
"No!"
"I am sorry! I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have said that, I just…I just need some time! Just give me time and I'll get over you, Eddie, I swear, and everything will get back to normal and you and I can just pretend it never happened-"
In a heartbeat, he's tossing the jacket to the floor and his lips are on yours.
You gasp, too surprised, too tense, and Edde slides a hand to the small of your back, pressing you against his body with something akin to desperation — both of you so entirely soaked from the rain, so entirely frightened, so entirely in love.
When the kiss ends, it's because both of you are out of breath; Eddie doesn't let the space between the two of you grow any further, though.
“Don't get over me,” he pleads, pretty much breathing into your mouth, forehead against yours, eyes fluttering closed. “Don’t ever get over me.”
It seems like your heart is about to jump out of your mouth. He leans in again and you don't have it in you to do anything other than the same.
Letting yourself be kissed is easy. Too easy. It also makes it easier to forget everything that brought the two of you here — the confession, the feelings you believed were unrequited until now… Aubrey.
Aubrey.
You realize you broke the kiss and whispered her name when Eddie opens his eyes to look at you.
“I mean, you and Aubrey…the date…”
He squeezes your waist and laughs, "The date lasted 10 minutes before she told me the obvious."
“Obvious?”
His smile grows.
“That I love you.”
#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fluff#eddie x reader#eddie x you#edward munson#eddie x y/n#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n
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cold nights // twenty-one
summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 4.2k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: oh- you guys wanted them to be happy and in love in peace?? my bad. anyway, good a time as any to wish you guys a happy valentines day! lol
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist
"Where are ya takin' those?" Lennox asks you as you're quickly scanning through your piles of books, pulling out one or two at a time and holding onto them.
"I will bring them to Coryo and Sejanus." You smile to yourself, standing up straight as you finish picking out most of your favourites.
"Coryo." Lennox scrunches his nose up. "Why bother? They can't read that many books in a week. Especially when he'll hardly get his hands off you long enough to do literally anything else."
"Oh, Lennox hush. That is not true." You shake your head pointedly, cheeks burning red.
"It is true."
You had kind of explained to Lennox what happened, that Coryo explained, apologized, and that you were wrong about him. Your mother was right, of course, but Lennox still wasn't buying any of it. Although, he wouldn't deny that you seemed happier.
"Ma!" You call out, coming out of your bedroom with the stack of books in your arms. Trying to talk to Lennox about this would never end in him actually listening to you.
"Just out back, honey!"
You follow her voice out onto the back porch. "Ma, do you know if there's a limit of things you can take on the train?"
She looks up at the question, laughing at the stack of books you have steadied under your chin.
"It's not a passenger train, honey. I don't know." She chuckles. "You want to give him all of those? Won't you miss them?"
"Well..." You think about it, placing them down on the ground to rest your arms for a moment. "I don't know when I'll see him again, and books are expensive to post. Besides, I know they'll be in safe hands, and if I want to read them again I can take them from the library."
Your mom smiles sadly at you. "I suppose that's true."
"Yes." You grin, crouching down to pick the books up again carefully. "I shall go drop these off."
"When will you be back?" She asks, just as you're about to walk back inside.
"Uh, I'm uncertain, but I shouldn't be long! We don't have any plans."
"Maybe you should take your brother with you, he can carry those." She suggests and you sigh.
"No, Ma. He's mean." You pout.
"He only wants to keep you safe. Take him with you, please. He'll be driven mad here waiting for you to get back." She insists and you groan, dropping your head back. "I won't ask again, I promise."
"Okay, Ma." You relent, stepping back into the house and letting the door swing shut behind you. "Len! Ma says you're coming with me!"
"So... how do you know where they are staying?" Lennox asks you, half the books in his arms as you practically skip ahead of him.
"Coryo showed me the other day."
"Oh, he did. Of course he did." You can practically see him rolling his eyes behind your back. "Have you ever considered that he could just be using you? I mean-"
"Lennox, that's not a rational thought process. I have nothing that he would want, he already won his prize." You interrupt. "He just came here to spend time with me, we talked about that when I was in the Capitol."
"I can think of something he wants..."
"Lennox!" You turn on your heel, pointing a finger in his face so fast he almost stumbles as he stops. "That is enough. You have so little trust in me!"
"It's not like we haven't been down this road before!" He argues, and you quickly look around as he raises his voice. The path is deserted this time of day.
"And you don't think me capable of learning?"
"Clearly not! Him and Cole are practically the same person!"
"Don't you say that- I didn't like Cole and you know it." You narrow your eyes at him. "Coryo is different. He wouldn't hurt me."
"You do realize that those are like, the famous last words that every teenage girl ever has said and regretted it, right?"
"Do you just not want me to be happy?" You ask bitterly. That wasn't true and you knew it, but you were upset and you knew it would get your point across. He was being cruel.
"The opposite, actually! I just want you to think realistically about fallin' into the open arms of your 'knight in shining armour' who you've literally had nightmares about for weeks on end."
"I am not a child! I am an adult, and I am capable of making my own decisions." You spit. "He's not using me. He loves me, and I love him."
"Yeah, I'm sure he'll say that until-"
"Lennox you are such a.. boy!" You groan. "If you must know, if you must insist that I am so stupid, no, I have not slept with him. Is that what you needed so desperately to hear?"
"Gross." He mumbles, shaking his head with disgust. "I don't care what you do with your alone time, actually I'd really rather not know! All I'm saying is you need to be more careful."
"I'm not going to fight with you. You can trust my decisions or not." You grumble, turning back around to keep walking. He follows behind you silently, neither of you saying another word the whole walk there.
You knock on the door, taking a step back while you wait for it to open. You can hear your brother breathing behind you and it's driving you up the wall. You would drop off the books and send him home- maybe you would stay for a while, go for a walk, something.
The door creaks open and you smile when you see Sejanus. "Y/N!" He grins, opening the door wider for you to come in. "Coryo! Your girlfriend is here!" You blush at the term as you walk in past him.
You hadn't discussed any kind of title to what you had, the looming ache of him leaving again so soon holding you back from wanting to mention it. You assumed he didn't want to discuss it either, both of you silently agreeing just to enjoy the time you still had together.
"Y/N/N." Coryo grins, eyes lighting up as he enters the room.
"Hi." You smile, ignoring your brother pretending to gag behind you.
"What brings you?" Coryo asks. "I didn't expect to see you today, I was thinking of coming to see you myself."
"Yes, well, I went through my books and brought some over that I would like you to take." You look back over your shoulder as Lennox is placing the large pile of books on the dining table.
Coryo hums as he wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your head. "That's a lot of books." He chuckles.
"You don't have to rush through them, keep them as long as you'd like." You assure him. "I just thought they were some you may enjoy."
"I'm sure I'll love them." He kisses the top of your head. "Thank you."
You turn in his arms to look up at him, ticking your head slightly when you hear Sejanus speak quietly. Clearly, not to either of you. "Hey, I just want to show you something. Come outside with me?" And then the door is shut, and you and Coryo are left alone.
"What's he showing him?" You ask, and Coryo watches through the window as his friend and your brother circle around to the side of the house.
"I am not sure." He answers. Immediately, he's thinking of the note Sejanus had scribbled out for himself. It included your brother's name alongside the dates and times, and those dates were creeping up quickly, the seventeenth being in three days- if he had today's date correct.
"Coryo?"
"Hm?" He looks down at you again. "You were thinkin' for a minute there. What's wrong?"
You were always so concerned. All he had done was take a moment to think, and you seemed genuinely worried. Maybe there was something in his face that showcased his confusion. "Nothing, love." He assures you, but you don't seem inclined to believe it. "Okay, uh, just... Come with me." He grabs your hand, watching out the window to make sure they aren't coming back yet as he leads you to his room.
You step into the small space and smile. He wasn't here for long, but the room already had little touches of him. The bed was made, and there was nothing on the walls but the bedside table had the copy of Romeo and Juliet he had got for you, a folded-up note, and a comb for his hair he had yet to put back in his bag despite him not needing it anymore.
You turn to face him after he shuts the door, smiling. He almost looked normal here, now. Like he was getting used to being here with you, living your life. It certainly wasn't like what he left behind in the Capitol, but to you it was special.
"Y/N, I have something to tell you." Coryo says, serious with a lowered voice. He didn't want anyone to hear it, even though you were still likely alone in the home.
"Okay." You reply, feeling your brow crease as you nod at him. His tone makes you nervous- your heart skips a beat in your chest. For a moment, you feel trapped. Tell him what you need. He won't mind.
"Can you... can you move away from the door, please?" You ask quietly before he has the chance to speak again.
He nods, not wasting a second before passing you and you turn with him, now with the door to your own back. "Is that better? You okay?" He asks and you nod.
"Fine just fine." You smile, trying to be reassuring. "What were you going to tell me?"
"Right, so..." You watch as he runs a hand over his head, still in the habit of pushing back his hair. "I was in Sejanus's room the other day, and I found this note. It had two dates and places on it, and then your brother's name and that was it."
"Oh." That's the only thing you can think of to say. "Well... do you remember the places? Maybe he was just trying to remember Len's name?"
"I don't know, I was hoping you'd know more." Coryo sighs, reaching for the bedside drawer. He had written down what he remembered from the dates and times, because he did want to ask you about it. "But he's been leaving and coming back at odd hours, he won't tell me what he's doing. Is he with Lucy Gray?"
"I don't think so." You frown, shaking your head. "But they have been getting close."
"But that doesn't really feel relevant to the note, or your brother."
"No... It certainly doesn't seem that way."
"Here, so... I wrote it down. Uh... The Hob, August seventeenth at ten pm, and broken fence August eighteenth at four am." He reads off what he remembered enough from the note to write down.
You tilt your head.
"Does that mean anything to you?"
"Well, on the seventeenth The Covey is performing at the Hob, so maybe he planned on going to that." You explain. "But broken fence... there's so many of those around here I couldn't tell you. Although, four am is an incredibly odd time to be meeting anyone."
"That's three hours before our train leaves."
"Oh." You shake your head slightly. "That's very weird."
"I know." Coryo sighs. "He won't tell me either, I've asked if he has any plans that night and he said no."
"Well... We should go." You offer. "Tell him that we're going to the meadow that night, and we'll just go after him. See who he's with."
Coryo raises his eyebrows at you. "I didn't take you for the nosy type."
"Well, I'm a big sister at heart and if it possibly involves Lennox I have to know." You argue. "It could be dangerous. He's always had a few friends I didn't love."
"Are you okay to go back there? I can go without you." He offers.
"I'll be fine." You insist. It's more so out of necessity, you have no choice but to be fine. You have to know- you have to make sure your brother and friend are safe.
"Are you sure about this?" Coryo asks, stopping you outside the entrance to the Hob. "If you want to go home I can take you, I just want you to feel safe."
"I know." You give him a small, reassuring smile as you squeeze his hand. "If I need to leave I'll tell you. I promise."
He nods, taking one last look at you to make sure you still seem okay before he pushes the door open and you both head in.
The building is buzzing- as it usually is when The Covey performs. You smile at the music, letting Coryo pull you close to the side wall as he scans the crowded room for his friend.
"Do you see him?" You ask, and he somehow hears you over the music and shakes his head.
You frown, looking around as well. No sign of Sejanus, no sign of Lennox. Lennox isn't even old enough to be here, but he wasn't at home when you left- and it's not exactly hard to sneak in.
"There," Coryo says, nodding in the direction of the opposite side of the room. You follow his eyes, and spot Sejanus talking to someone you recognize. "Who's he with?"
"Spruce." You explain. "His sister is scheduled to be executed tomorrow afternoon." You add, leaning closer so no one else will hear.
You watch as they head toward the back hall, the same one you ran down just a couple of weeks ago. "Should we go after them?" You ask when Coryo doesn't reply and he nods, watching them as he pulls you down the outside wall toward them.
You make it back to the hall without Lucy Gray spotting you, as far as you can tell. Standing outside the door, you hear shouting. You watch Coryo as he clenches his jaw, shaking his head.
"Wait out here." He tells you, dropping your hand.
"No- I, I should come." You shake your head and he grabs your cheeks, lifting your head to look into your eyes.
"I don't know what they're fighting about but it doesn't sound good. Wait out here." He's stern as he gently brushes his thumbs over your cheeks. "Listen to Lucy Gray, just watch the door. Okay, love?"
"Okay." You agree quietly, slightly nodding.
He kisses your forehead before letting you go, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open and disappearing behind it.
You chew your nails as you wait with your ear to the door, trying to decipher who is inside with them. It's hard to tell with all the shouting going on, but you hadn't heard Lennox.
"Y/N." You hear your name, quickly jumping back from the door and turning to face the voice. "What are you doin' here?"
You chew your cheek, trying to avoid Cole's gaze. "Just waitin' for Lucy Gray." You lie, looking down.
"Ah." He hums, nodding slightly as he steps closer to you. "Where's your purebred Capitol attack dog?"
"What are you doing here, Cole?" You ask, ignoring his question.
"We got leave passes for the weekend." He answers. "Hoff said something about 'boosting morale'."
"That's nice." You smile nervously. "Well, I don't want to keep you, so..."
"You aren't." He smirks, tilting his head as he looks down at you. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, you know that, right?"
"I know." You say softly.
"We're friends, aren't we?"
"Cole..." You sigh, looking down again. "We talked about this I just... We're too different. I'm sorry."
"Oh, because you have so much more in common with that prick- right?" He laughs sarcastically. "He's Capitol! He'll never know you like I do. Honestly, I'm offended that you'd choose him over me."
"I'm not choosing him over you." You frown. "I already knew we wouldn't work before I ever met him. This is very, very different. I'm sorry."
"You are? Oh, I'm glad to hear that." He nods and you eye him suspiciously. "Maybe then after he leaves, you'll give me another chance. He's taking the next train, tomorrow morning, right?"
"I can't do that, Cole." You shake your head.
"That's an awful shame." The evil smile on his face doesn't fade. "I'll have no choice but to report your father."
Your heart drops. "My Pa hasn't done anything."
He sucks in through his teeth. "Well, suspicion is enough to charge, and I don't know... I get a bit of an off feeling from him. It's actually my duty to report any suspicions we have, so honestly I've been protecting you, and I'd like to keep doing that, you know?"
You finally picked up on what he was saying, and immediately could taste the bitterness of fear on your tongue, a metallic tang that seemed to linger in the air.
"So? Do we have a date?"
"Sure." You mutter through gritted teeth.
"Sweet, thanks for finally coming to your senses, bug." Cole smiles, patting your shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon!" He calls back as he walks away.
You don't even care what's going on inside, you can't be alone in this dark hallway anymore.
You pull the door open and rush in, but you're quickly stopped by Coryo's arm as he takes a few steps back, pushing you behind him. "What- what's-"
"She can't be in here!" Spruce spits at Coryo as you look past him, gasping at the sight of several guns on the table and the one in his arms.
"Listen, she's not involved." Sejanus promises.
"Her brother is gonna help us, it's cool. She won't tell." You look at Billy Taupe when he speaks, eyes wide.
"No- this is crazy." Mayfair shakes her head. "She's not coming with us. We're not bringing her or Lucy Gray. I'm leaving."
"No, they aren't coming. I just said I'd ask. Now she knows, so she probably should." Billy Taupe replies and your eyes flick between the couple. You had no idea what was going on, where he wanted you to go, and what this had to do with Sejanus or your brother.
"No! My daddy will have you all strung up for this." She throws her hands up and starts to walk toward the back door. Your heart is pounding in your chest as Coryo reaches for one of the guns.
"Don't!" You cry out, forcing yourself in front of him just as he aims the gun at her. At you.
"Y/N, you gotta move right now." He says quickly, and you hear her footsteps stop behind you.
You can only look at his eyes as they flit between anger, instinct, and fear.
"Coryo." You say, voice cracking and it's only then that you feel the tears dampening your cheeks.
The barrel of the gun is under an inch from your chest, and you can see his hands shaking as he holds the heavy weapon in his hands. He won't shoot you- he won't.
The world around you seems to blur as your focus narrows on the overwhelming sense of fear gripping you tightly. Right now, if someone asked where you were, you wouldn't know. You just as easily could have been standing in the arena.
He doesn't dare move as he stares at you, eyes wide. He doesn't want to hurt you, but that's why he has to do this. He can't let whoever that girl was have you killed. Still, you stand in front of him. Shaking, but not moving. This was the girl he knew from the games who offered a rose to Coral who in the moments before was threatening her. The girl who so thoroughly hated the idea of bringing harm to others that her own mind blocked it out completely and replaced the story with something else. This was the girl who was willing to give up her life just to be able to give the other tributes an honourable burial that she knew they wouldn't otherwise receive.
The girl who saw him kill another boy and despite all of that, still had it in her heart to forgive him.
You don't even hear Mayfair laugh and begin to walk away again, you only hear the gunshot that follows. You jump, immediately looking down to assess the damage. Coryo wasn't pointing the gun at you anymore, he had dropped his arms in defeat- and you had mistaken the loud noise for an impact you were expecting.
He didn't shoot you.
"What did you do?" You turn as Billy Taupe screams, eyes widening as you see Mayfair bleeding out on the floor.
"Oh god- oh god..." You mumble, stepping back until you bump into Coryo. He drops the gun back onto the table, pulling you into his arms.
"Don't look, don't look..." He tells you, turning you and pressing your head to his chest so you can't see anymore even if you wanted to.
You can't even make out what Spruce and Billy Taupe are yelling at each other over the sound of your blood pumping through your veins. Until the second gunshot.
You must be sobbing now, clinging onto the front of Coryo's shirt so tight your knuckles are burning. "You're okay, it's okay." He tells you. You don't know what's going on- you don't want to.
Coryo stares between Spruce and the body of Billy Taupe now slumped down next to Mayfair. He needs to get you out of here, now, but he doesn't know how. This has to be handled first.
He's letting you go only to grab your cheeks and get you to look at him. "Go back outside, you have to go back outside, I will handle this."
You can't even speak- can't even move. You try and shake your head. You couldn't leave him, not right now. You feel like you'd die the moment he ceased touching you.
The door slides open again, followed by an angry voice you know too well. "What the fuck?" Cole must have been watching you. He must have heard.
"No..." You cry, shaking your head. If Cole saw this you were absolutely all screwed.
"What the fuck did you do?" Cole shouts again. "Nobody fucking move! You're all-"
Another gunshot. Silence.
"Oh no, no, no..." You try and look behind Coryo but he doesn't let you, holding your head firmly into his chest again.
"It's okay. Don't look." He says again, staring at Sejanus who looks like he's panicking just as much as you are now.
"Why'd you tell them where we were? Now you've gone and screwed us all over! I just shot a peacekeeper!"
"He didn't tell anyone." Coryo defends him. "We followed him, Cole followed us."
"Fuck." Spruce sighs, throwing the gun onto the pile of others still laid across the table. "We gotta bump this up. We have to get Lil now, go tell Lennox to get the stuff and hide it for us like we said."
"Get rid of the guns and pretend this never happened."Coryo hisses. "And leave the kid out of this. It's too late for whatever plan you had now- we don't know where he is."
You can't even hear a single thing going on anymore. You're actually sure you might faint.
When you go from shaking to completely still in Coryo's arms, he knows you have. "Shit..." He mumbles, trying to steady you as your knees give out. He quickly readjusts so he can lift you with an arm under your knees and the other under your back.
"I gotta get her out of here and you have to move quick. Get rid of the guns. Now." He instructs, and surprisingly, Spruce listens. He throws the weapons into a bag and steps over the two bodies by the door before leaving.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this." Sejanus cries, gripping onto his hair and breathing heavily. "No one was supposed to get hurt!"
"Sejanus, for once just shut up!" He grabs his attention from where his friend is staring at the dead couple, clearly losing his mind. Coryo doesn't have time for this- an unconscious girl in his arms and his friend looking like he's about to be in the same state in a matter of moments.
"It's all my fault..."
"All of this is your fault!" Coryo agrees, looking around at the mess of the room. "It's only gonna get worse if you don't pull yourself together."
"Oh, god..."
"If you breathe a word now, all three of us are finished. Just like in the arena. We came here to see her. If we go down, she goes with us." He holds you tighter to his chest as your hair falls over the curve of his arm, your head limp against his skin. "So now we have to go back to the house, gather all our shit, and act like nothing is wrong. We have to board the train tomorrow like nothing is wrong. Do you understand?"
"I- I don't know." Sejanus sniffs.
"Hey." Coryo says, taking a few steps closer. "Look at me. You have to pull it together. I know you wanted to go with them but now they aren't going. We've got to stick together. You won't get in trouble. I won't let anything happen to you, but you have to listen to me." It was obvious that it didn't matter that none of you pulled the trigger- being in the room was enough; especially when a peacekeeper had been murdered. If you were caught, you'd all be executed. "We're brothers, yeah? Brothers. Whatever you've done, I swear I will keep you safe."
"Brothers. Yeah." Sejanus mutters, still obviously in shock.
"Those guns were the only loose ends besides the four of us, so we're gonna be okay as long as we leave tomorrow." He breathes. "Okay? Not a word."
"O-Okay." Sejanus nods slightly, trying to keep his focus on the boy in front of him rather than their unconscious friend in his arms.
Coryo tried to give him a reassuring smile, but inside he was panicking too. They could escape it all on the train tomorrow, but now came the problem of what to do with you.
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Text
I’m working late, cause I’m a singer
F!reader x Minatozaki Sana
Genre: fluff?? , angst
Warnings: Sana is a workaholic!! It probably has a lot of grammar errors but im too lazy to check LOL (tbh idk what else so tell mee!)
A/N’s note: tbh my first work and prolly wont post in like a month LOL and @kirxyz better stop calling me lesbian ik i wrote this but shhhh
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Sana Never Had Time For You. She was an idol a popular one and you were a Normal Citizen. Your relationship with her was always a Secret since you both knew the Consequences if the world finds out.
"Love. Can we spend the whole day tomorrow?" you patiently asked Sana as she was chatting with her Manager
"you know i can't.. I'll get catch and plus im Busy Y/N." she coldly replied as she focus on her phone. It was holiday tomorrow but she chose to go to interviews even tho she can easily decline
You always felt like your feelings were always declined by Sana but you always tried to emphasise with her as she was one of the biggest idols in the K-pop industry. It was getting hard to make sense with her since she could slightly adjust her schedule to suit her and your relationship together. It has been 3 years together and it wasn’t always like this.
You two were always inseparable and Sana would always do her very best to make time for you and spend it together at home since going put was too risky. She was a very popular idol anyways paparazzi would always watch her every step.
“This is unfair Sana and you know it! Why cant you even try to make time for me like you used to?” you cried out hoping she would try to understand. It has been months since you went out with her despite her tour already being finished.
"i've had this interview planned for weeks. I can't just go and cancel it. Its my job. I know i haven't been spending enough time with you, Y/N but you have to understand i have responsibilities." She looks at you as she was trying to avoid a fight.
She was always like this trying to avoid arguing and putting the matter away like it never happened 2 times in one week already.
“Do you even care about me Sana? It seems like you never even thought about this matter since last winter..” your voice softens in disappointment. You had expected this reply from her anyways, its like its her only sentences in the dictionary when she talked to you.
Sana looked at you in silence."of course i do. I do. If i didn't i would have never agreed to be in a relationship with you. I love you. I just. Can't spend most of my time with you cause im busy. Plus if my manager catches us hanging out or knows were in a relationship. We know the consequences, Y/N."
You were starting to think she was losing feelings for you, her voice didn’t sound sincere at all. You were worried but you couldn’t tell her your worries as it may break your relationship. What if she cared about her job more than you? What if she was cheating on you? Anything could happen, she is a pro idol anyways shes good at hiding secrets from the world, possibly you too.
“I love that you love your job dearly but what about me? My feelings? Im starting to think you don’t even love me like you used to Sana.”
"i know you don't want me to be busy all the time and i know it upsets you but i have responsibility to take care of. Im your Girlfriend, there is too much pressure on me. It’s my job and i have to deal with it." she sounded stressed and frustrated.
"but i will make it up to you, love." she said as she placed a hand on your head affectionately
That was a sentence she repeated 10 times probably just this month and she never made it up to you. You felt like losing hope and when you tried sharing your problems with Momo, your best friend ever since you started dating Sana, she kept encouraging you to tell her all your feelings and problems about this messy relationship. You just couldn’t bring yourself to it because she was your love the one you could never hurt and would stick to her forever and ever.
“When? When do you even have the time..?”
Before she could answer, her phone started ringing which was probably her manager."i need to take this call, love." she kissed you before she answered the call and walked away. You were in absolute disbelief, you can’t believe that she would abruptly leave and end the argument just like that.
You could hear her muffled talking and even though you heard your name you couldn't understand the words.Your silently sniffled and shed a tear wishing that it could be easier and she didn’t have to be so busy all the time
—————————
2 weeks and double the ‘arguments’ later you started trying to ignore Sana and it felt like she didn’t even care nor realise that you were ignoring her. It felt like a part of you heart was missing, the fact that she didn’t care hammered another piece of your heart off. Momo was the only one who knew about your feelings and ignoring of Sana. She knew about how you cried to sleep every night and she wanted to confront Sana about hurting her best friend because of her mistreatment.
Momo didn’t want to hurt you either so she couldn’t say anything about it. You loved how caring Momo was about you but you couldn’t love her the same way you love Sana even if you wanted to. Momo wanted to have a relationship with you if yours and Sana’s don’t work out. However you kept insisting that it would one day work out and everything thing would be fine but Momo doubted it, you were starting to,too.
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Time flew by and it was the next week. You ignored her for almost a month straight. It still hurt to know she wasn’t there for you like she used to. There was a knock at your door and it was Sana. She was wearing casual clothes like sweats, a baggy hoodie and a beanie. She was carrying a bag and it was a.. gift? That seems odd, it has been months since you have gotten a gift from her maybe the last was winter? 6 months ago since you were still happy and clingy with her, now you’re all weepy and she never really gave a shit.
"Hey Y/N. Is it okay if i come in?" she looked at you with sad eyes. You got worried seeing her in a different state than when you last saw her. On camera she was always so cheerful pretending like she was single (maybe she was it was??) flirting with all the other idols and interviewers. You have seen her weeping about concerts ending yet it feels weird and awkward having her stand outside your apartment door waiting to be let in. (it was normally the opposite since she was a rich girly and the doorman always bullied you for being able to pull a girl like the Minatozaki Sana)
You felt awkward since it has almost been a month since you started ignoring her and when you checked your phone it was filled with texts from this morning asking why you haven’t texted her daily like you normally do but you couldnt find the courage to respond so you never checked them. You wanted to let her in no doubt but at the same time you wanted to keep her waiting until she was at your feet begging for forgiveness.
Although you couldn’t bring yourself to do that so you had to just awkwardly let her in your house. It was this tension that kept you from speaking to her. You waited until she said something.
Sana walked in and sat next to you on the sofa in your medium sized living room. She then placed the bag on the table next to you and she turned to you. You could see her face was a little teary.
"im really sorry... i know I've been busy and haven't been able to spend time with you. I know you've been patient and i really appreciate that love. I just want to say im sorry and i love you. So i want to make it up with..." she took the bag and handed it to you
You were shocked, you had never expected her to act this way especially the reason being about you. Sure, you expected her to apologise, maybe sincerely but not this bad. Never would you have thought she would start sobbing for forgiveness, is this even Sana?
“I-i appreciate your effort, honey. It’s been quite some time since we spoke though. This..this doesn’t feel quite right” you look at her face frowning.
"open it open the bag." Sana looked away as she hid her tears.
Since she insisted and pushed the bag to you, you felt weirded out and was confused why she would suddenly come to your house and ask for forgiveness and give you a gift? You didn’t want to be rude so you ended up having to open the gift she gave to you.
You wiped her tears rolling down her tinted rose cheeks, before you opened up her gift.
Inside the bag are tickets for two to Paris. Your face contorted with surprise definitely. You wanted to be happy but you couldn’t find it in you. Sana realised it but tried not to mention it.
"I know you always wanted to visit Paris, so i booked us a trip. It was expensive, Y/N but you always make me smile. So i want to see you smile. Please don't be mad at me for not spending time with you. I'll make it up to you love. We leave the week after next. It was short notice but i had to book it before the price increased."
“Sana, I don’t know what to say hon’.” You looked up at her trying not to make her disappointed. “Does your manager know about this? Would you get in trouble?”
"No. Love, my manager only tells me not to spend time with you cause she knows about the consequences if the world finds out. But im risking it to make it up to you, Y/N. Besides, im taking a vacation. I have a few days off so she shouldn't be too mad."
“We shouldn’t be doing this if it means having a possibility of losing your job Sana.” You get worried for her. “You’re risking it and your job costs a lot to lose.”
"I don't care if i lose my job, Y/N. As long as you’re by my side, i'll be fine." Sana's voice got soft and gentle. It was different to her cold and harsh voice when she was talking to you about work. She then placed a hand on your cheek as she smiled warmly.
You reciprocated her warm smile as you felt it was genuine this time. Sana then leans in for a kiss and kisses you on the lips. She was sweet and loving like she used to be.
"ill never let anyone or anything come between us me you, Y/N. I love you, so much." she said as she was looking at you in the eyes.
“I love you too Sana, more than you could ever think.”
“To the moon and back?”
“to the moon and back.”
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