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#I never did figure out if they were the same person but oh well
adora-but-ginger · 2 days
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Femininomenon
pairing: emily prentiss x gender neutral reader
synopsis: two undercover agents with old flames still burning, reunited once again
warnings: undercover talk, swearing, references to sex so mdni, french words, alcoholic settings (though none is consumed)
main masterlist
the rise and fall of a midwestern princess masterlist
word count: ~2.3k
a/n: OH MAN am i excited for this series!! this is my first time writing for emily, and i am really proud of this one! the order of this series won't necessairly follow the album order, but the beginning to both will be femininomenon. i would love to hear your thoughts, and let me know if you'd like to be tagged! also side note i saw chappell live and it changed something in me.
do not steal or repost my work. reblogs, however, are greatly appreciated!
not proofread whoopsie daises
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credit to gif owner!
"Dude, can you play a song with a fucking beat?"
The music was loud, obnoxious, and not even good. Your mind was still racked with the events of the past 72 hours, and you never went to places like this before. A "welcome back/so long" party they said. You did not agree to this, but out of leaving on civil terms, you begrudgingly said you'd attend. It was for you after all.
That being said, the DJ they hired was not that good. You were irritated, it was hot and stuffy here, and you just wanted some sleep. If they were going to play music here, at least make it good.
"Uh, yeah, sorry. What do you want on the queue?"
You couldn't even think of a song name. You had been so out of touch with the present world these past years that you were completely out of the loop on the world's current music taste. Someone next to you recommended one before patting you on the shoulder, and that movement almost made you snap.
This was stupid. Stupid, useless, and a waste of time and money.
The "you're alive and back!" banner was starting to fall, and your irritation was becoming overwhelming. Since when did they even do this sort of thing? You took a deep breath. You were gone for eight years, longer than most stings. Plus, you were switching departments soon anyway, and you supposed that this was the first celebration the team had had in a while. Let them have it, part of you conceded. Fifteen more minutes, then you could leave, you convinced yourself. Fifteen minutes and then--
"Well if it isn't the guest of honor."
You knew that voice. How did you know that voice?
You were still trying to remember how your friends and colleagues looked and talked--a feat harder than you'd like to admit. Whatever song the person had requested was thrumming through the air now, the beat running through you.
You could hear your name being hummed, and you did a 180 to face them.
Emily Prentiss.
How could you have forgotten that voice? You eyed your drink, suddenly wishing it was much stronger than the sprite you currently carried.
"You look a whole lot different since I saw you last." She glanced over you, noticing the weathered changes that came with eight years undercover.
"I guess I'm still trying to figure out who I am again." An ironic chuckle accompanied your words. "Hey, Emily." You slightly raised your cup of soda in greeting, and she returned the same action. "A little birdie told me you switched from undercover?"
Oh man, this was not good. Thank god you knew how to regulate your expressions because your heart was practically escaping your chest. The last time you two had seen each other, you did much more than talk. It was truly a shame that you were called in immediately that next morning, that you knew she'd wake up to the sheets still warm (she was always a light sleeper), that you had a new case being brought to the table and you wouldn't know how long you'd be gone for. A week? A month? Half a year? A whole one?
You definitely did not expect it to be eight years.
What was she doing now? Was she with someone? Was she married? Did she have kids? Did she--"You're doing that thing again, you know."
Your eyes snapped to hers. "What thing?"
The song changed, and you really did not want to be attending this party right now. Even if Emily was here. "The thing where you ruminate into your own world?" She clocked the look in your eyes and nodded to the front doors.
Maybe it was a little rude to leave the main event without saying goodbye, but you did not want to be there any longer, and you getting really overwhelmed. You nodded in agreement and she started to walk toward the refreshing outside air.
The chill greeted you as you approached the nearby picnic table, Emily sitting down across from you.
An awkward silence infiltrated the air.
"So, uh, long time no see?"
She shot you a look, eyebrows raised in a don't give me that manner.
"How are you doing with the assimilation? Any hiccups?"
Eight years--two-thousand nine hundred and twenty-six days. You'd been back for only three, and you couldn't remember how to live a normal life. You weren't assimilating at all.
"Yeah, it's been pretty good."
You could see pity in her eyes. "I don't know how you got this job. You can't lie for shit."
Speaking to her was making old, long-buried feelings crawl their way through the dirt and past the grave. A tension was forming, though not one of bad, more so the type comparable to that of smelling the rain before a storm.
"I just can't lie to you." You crossed your hands on the picnic table. "Never really could, I guess." You mumbled the second part, taking note of the party's noises and the crickets chirping behind you.
She let you talk, patiently drinking up the mere presence of you. She had practically sprinted from the jet upon hearing of your return, memories of you two flooding the gates she had long since locked away.
You were gone for nearly a decade and your social skills were currently in the toilet. It had to mean something that Emily came tonight, right? Not a lot of people knew of you, much less the importance of your return, and as far as you knew word didn't leave the office of this party.
Yet here she was, dressed in her day clothes, nursing a water as she stared at you as if you were not real.
You wanted to tell her everything, what you did, where you went, who you had dealt with the past almost decade, the way her lips still caressed your mind, how the ghost of a possible future kept you was the lamp that led you through the darkness.
You had so much to say, yet you could only get two words out.
"I'm sorry."
That caught her a little off guard. "What are you sorry for?"
You let the evening breeze wrap around you for a moment before speaking. "For leaving without saying goodbye. For finally making a move just to go off the grid. It was long ago, I know, but I felt--feel so horrible that I left you there that morning without even a quick see you tonight letter by your coffee."
She didn't respond, which made that feeling in your gut go even deeper. The evening breeze ran in between you, speaking words you could only wish to say.
It wasn't until her cup was almost empty that she responded.
"Don't sweat it too much. I got called into a case not too long after, was stuck in that for a while too. Seriously, it happened, and there's no bad blood between the two of us."
People were starting to leave the party in the distance, and a wave of relief washed over you. Now you could leave, go back to the sanctioned hotel room you were assigned to until your belongings were recovered and you could find a place to live. It was a shitty situation, sure, but it was a place to lay your head for right now.
"Well, it's getting late, and I'm really tired," a yawn overcame you, "I better get going. I start the new job in a few days, so I need to catch up on as much sleep as I can after the past week." You reached over the table and lightly squeezed her hand. "It was really nice to see you, Emily. Seriously."
She returned the gesture, her hand fitting as nicely in your own now as it did back then. "Of course. You didn't think I'd miss welcoming you back, did you?"
Your hands didn't separate, instead, she smiled as you shot a glance towards them. "Keep in touch, will you? It'd be really nice to reconnect."
A small smile grew on your face and you swiped your thumb over her knuckles. "I will, don't you worry. I don't have my own phone yet, but if you want to give me your number I'll put it in the moment I get one."
You knew she would tease you the second the offer left your lips. "You want my number, huh? Think I'm cute or something?"
A laugh emitted from you, god you forgot how much you missed her. The anxious side of you made you question whether you should be flirty at all with her-- she probably already had a significant other, and there was a slim shot that even if she didn't, you could relight the kindling that was your--whatever it was you two had going on.
Couldn't hurt to test the waters though.
"I think you're alluring, gorgeous, and undeniably charming." You lowered your tone to a whisper as you spoke, leaning over the table. "Not just cute."
She shot a glance at your lips that did not go unnoticed, and you licked them in response.
"Oh, dearest, you're going to make me blush if you keep on talking like that."
"You? blush? These years really have changed you Em." You had to make sure she was single before you continued any further. "Are you seeing anyone these days?"
Hands still interlocked, she gave another squeeze. "You've had my heart since we walked in together as fresh meat ten years ago. You've plagued my every dream for thousands of days--you are the only one my eyes have landed on and will ever."
Slightly shocked at her confession, your mouth dropped partially agape. "Still as bold as ever-which is a good thing-I see. Since when did you become a romantic?" You nodded toward the car you took to get here, and she nodded in understanding.
"Since I found out you were one: still alive, and two: not undercover anymore." You took a minute to observe her as you stood. Black shirt with a flat neckline, dress pants, and hair slightly curled outwards at the end. Still breathtaking as ever. Age had found her face, as it did you, and it made her even more stunning.
"Want to come to my place? I have an extra room if you want." She thought for a second. "Oh, I do have one man in my life." Shock rushed through you, mixed with a tinge of jealousy, and she laughed at your expression. Laughed. A sound that reminded you of a perfect melody. "His name is Sergio, and he's the sneakiest cat you'll ever meet. I love him to dear pieces."
You were speechless, resulting in even more laughter from the raven-haired woman at your side. "You're something else, you know that?"
"I'm sure he'll love you."
She gave you her address ad you got into your vehicle. With a wink and a slap on the door, she was off to her own.
--
You were going to fucking lose it.
It was five years into this mission, and at this point, you didn't know if it would ever end. The layer of domesticity that formed between you and him was so enforced that you had to remind yourself every night that this was your job, and that once you were able to get his company destroyed, things would smooth out.
And you would be able to quit this line of work.
You loved it, you truly did, at first. You were good at what you did, and it made you the best candidate for this operation. That being said, you did not expect to still be living this case. For one, you didn't date men (or have ever been attracted to them.) Yet here you were, legally married to the guy running the upper half of France. It irked you because he had a really sweet sister who under different circumstances you would've loved to be friends with.
There wasn't much left to do today, and the sun was starting to set. You had sent the cleaning person home early; you always did. They liked you because you actually got to know each them, and you still had them paid for the hour or two they missed. This was one of the only chances you had to take a deep breath and do a little reset, remembering why you were here and what you were doing.
You were an outstanding undercover agent. You were coming back to for Emily.
You had repeated that mantra for the past five years, the sentence serving as a tether when things got rough.
Stupid fresh linens that were never used twice. Stupid giant house with its giant gate and giant halls. Stupid--
"Où es-tu, mon amour?" Where are you, my love?
There he was, and there duty called.
"Je serai là!" I'll be right there!
Once her name had infiltrated your mind, she enveloped it. Does Emily still even remember you? Is she still alive? Does she still care?
You were doing this for her. And if that meant you had to wait a few more years, then so be it. She was your solace, your grounding rock.
"Mon amour?" my love?
"En chemin!" on my way!
Until you were able to hold her in your arms again, you could only hope that things worked out.
Emily rubbed a soothing hand over your back as you softly fell asleep, body entangled with hers. She knew within a second that there was no chance you'd be sleeping in separate beds. Plus, you needed a sense of comfort, a familiar face, and that's what she was. She never had anyone to pick her back up after Doyle, so she would be that person for you.
It was odd, having you back. It was going to take a while to get everything situated and in a groove, but she was willing to walk that path with you.
She always thought it was the same old story with her previous relationships, but then you came along.
And god damn, did she love you.
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pushing500 · 1 month
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The solar flare meant Mechi was doing boring stuff like mining, so every time the cooldown for The Monolith or Ms Clarabelle (our sightstealer) was up, he sprinted to do that instead. I don't think he likes manual labour lmao
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Some wild people came onto the map, which Mechi was not thrilled about because one of them was a taukai xenotype (cancer people, I think), and he thought they were hella ugly. A bit rude, but Mechi hates everybody anyway, so it's understandable.
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The grass is quite literally greener on this side of the fence, boomalope (the boomalope is now named Butter, and he is a very good boomalope)
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More silver is always nice, and foggy rain isn't so bad.
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We did not offer help to either of The Accurates.
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mntcoronet · 2 years
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*pause moment* hey why the fuck did I just realise that during high school, I felt like a fair number of my peers (from outside my friends group) treated me somewhat more "softly" or like a child than they would've done with other people. and why was that
#maggles ramblings#like idk if they were actually doing that or if that's just what i Felt was happening#but. when they'd have to talk to me for things; like short 'do this in pairs' stuff; i def felt like they treated me differently#like I'd point out something in the thing we were looking at and they'd go 'oh wow good observation!!' as if we weren't the same age#maybe they just acted differently cos they didn't wanna be doing it. which like sure. but man u could at least try to discuss the topic#or did i seem like too much of a shy little creature that only just learned human speech that they forgot i was competent enough to get A's#but hhh man idk. i never know how people perceive me that's the real issue here#i can sorta make estimations based on how they talk to me; i can tell well enough if someone just doesn't wanna keep talking to me#but that doesn't mean i can figure out WHY. but i do know that sometimes it feels like.. they pick up on something about me#like i can roughly tell whether the person talking to me still considers me Just A Normal Guy or if they've realised like 'hey...#this person doesn't quite Get It with regards to social/conversation stuff'. bc of the way they talk. but i still never know why!!#like sure every time i go have conversations with new people i feel like I'm just pretending to be A Normal Person yknow#and when other people who seem very socially competent Keep talking to me i just think oh wow you haven't figured it out yet that's wild#figured what out? idk that I'm just pretending i guess. about what? uh good question just pretending in general#pretending like i know what to say; that it feels completely Natural to talk like that; like I'm not mentally rating each of my actions#but then sometimes there's people i just feel like i don't have to do that around nearly as much. i swear i gravitate towards those ppl#but yeah it's just. it def feels like they know I'm Not Getting something when i talk to a lot of people. like they Know i missed a memo#and i don't even know what the memo is about; or whether I've gotten any of the previous memos or just absorbed the knowledge#by observing things. ya#ok im done with that train of thought i need to go and work on that au i accidentally stayed up till 2am last night thinking of ideas for
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darknight3904 · 6 months
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All Yours, Coryo
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𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪:ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅꜱ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅᴛʜɪʀꜱᴛʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛᴜʀɴ.
ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ.
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx. ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɴᴀɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɪꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʙʟɪɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʜɪꜱ ʀᴇᴅ ꜰʟᴀɢꜱ. ꜱᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ.
ɪ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛʟʏ ʜɪᴛ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʏᴇꜱᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ ɪɴꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴇᴀʀʟɪᴇʀ, ɴᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ.
ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.
Coriolanus has never been the easiest person to understand. His mind was always racing and it kept you on your toes. Even now as he fretted over his appearance in the mirror you could tell his mind was thinking of a million things beyond whether or not his tie fit him correctly.
"For what it's worth, I think you look perfect." You say, sipping at your drink, you had been ready for nearly twenty minutes while Coriolanus was still figuring out what tie matched his pants best.
"I'm sure you do but this isn't just any party, I'm campaigning tonight and everything must be perfect." He says adjusting his hair even though it already sat perfectly styled atop his head.
It was Coriolanus' 23rd birthday and instead of celebrating like you usually did, you were both spending it at a party full of people who might help him reach the presidency by the beginning of next year. You approach him and wrap your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.
"It will be." You assure, pressing a kiss to his exposed neck where his makeup artist did a wonderful job at covering the marks you had left behind last night.
"If all goes well tonight, you might just become the first lady of Panem one day." He smiles at you through the mirror
"Does that mean we're getting married?" You laugh, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the idea of being with him forever
"Maybe..." Coriolanus says suddenly avoiding your eyes as his face reddens under your gaze.
You giggle at your boyfriend's flustered face, despite how grown up he had become in the past few years he was still the same boy you met at the academy all those years ago who just wanted his own bowl of fruit to gobble down.
"You definitely wanna marry me, Coryo!" You say almost as if you had discovered a secret of his.
"Well if you're not interested I can always find another." He jests, finally tying his tie.
"Oh please, I'm the only one who could ever tolerate you." You smile as he spins around to face you and rests his hands on your hips
"That you are, darling, that you are." He smiles and presses a chaste kiss to your lips
Coriolanus is sure you are his favorite person in the entire world. From the way you'd laugh at his jokes to the way your nose whistled when you slept, he loved it all. Even now as the two of you had long abandoned your teenage years and stepped into adulthood, he knew he didn't want to lose you. His interactions with Lucy Gray and his time in District 12 had only solidified how he wanted you to stay close to him. He watches as you cross the room to slip into a pair of pretty high heels, he loved the way your dress sat on your body, it was perfectly fitted and he wondered what designer had been able to craft it so perfectly.
He looked back at the mirror and pretended to fiddle with his outfit again even though he knew he looked perfect. Instead, his eyes cast to the small table next to the mirror where a collection of photos sat you and him over the past five years. His favorite though was the one that was taken at your 17th birthday party. He remembered how warm it had been, and at one point someone had filled a bucket of water and tossed at you. He had expected you to cry out and push everyone out of your home but instead, he was met with your laughter and thus a water fight had begun. The picture of the two of you had been taken not even twenty minutes later, both of you were drenched but happy and you had linked your arms together right before the picture was taken. Sometimes he wished to go back to those moments, to relieve the last bits of his boyhood even though it meant going back to that decrepit building he once lived in and the taste of cabbage a constant on his tongue.
"Thinking about the past?" You ask from across the room.
"Thinking about how ugly we look here." He says picking up the photo
"Nonsense, we're adorable in that. If I remember correctly that was taken a few weeks before you tripped me in my room trying to slow dance and then you gave me the kiss of a lifetime." You smile
"I didn't trip you, you tripped me with your bad dancing." He laughed, returning the photo to its proper place among the others.
"Whatever you say, Coryo." You smiled, he could tell you didn't believe one word that came from his mouth about the tripping incident.
These parties were always a bit tedious for you. You enjoyed seeing Coriolanus happy among Capitol elites and you loved the lavish dresses you got to wear but sometimes it became overwhelming. The sheer amount of reporters that were always at these things is what drove you crazy. Coriolanus ate the attention up and answered all their questions about how he'd change Panem for the better but you were usually left answering questions about what your dress was made of or what your relationship was with Coriolanus. He often assured you that once he won the presidency he'd have more control over what was asked and that you'd never have to answer another dress question again. You hoped he won as soon as possible, it was tiring pretending this line of questioning was interesting.
"Is that real gold on your sleeves?"
"Is that ring on your finger an engagement ring?"
"Who did your hair for the evening?"
"Are you going to have the future president's children?"
"Did you seduce Coriolanus Snow for power in the Capitol?"
"How many toes do you have?"
God you wished they'd all shut up, or at least get better questions. Even just something as small as your involvement with your father's company would've been better than this. You ignored whatever trash was coming from their mouths and held on to Coriolanus' arm like he was going to disappear and end up back in District 12 again.
You remembered that day very well, after Coriolanus' tribute had won he had just disappeared despite promising to walk you home after the games had ended. When he didn't show up for graduation either, you found yourself outside Tigris and Grandma'am's new residence looking for answers. Tigris had told you what happened with him and that girl, Lucy Gray, how he cheated with rat poison and a handkerchief of his father's. At first, you had been distraught that he was sent off to District 12, stuck there for twenty years as some peacekeeping grunt, you'd be an ugly middle-aged woman by the time he got back! You had been in the pits of despair about your relationship with him but all it took was one terrifying meeting with Dr. Gaul to change your attitude. Once she revealed that Coriolanus would be back in the Capitol soon, and she was simply testing his dedication to the games, you relaxed. While Dr. Gaul might not have all her marbles you knew she wasn't lying, and sure enough, your Coriolanus returned to you in a matter of weeks.
However, he returned to you differently though. Sure, his head was shaved like all Peacekeepers and the curls you loved to play with were gone, but his attitude had also changed. Perhaps it was that Songbird he never wanted to speak of even now. You could never quite place what happened between Coriolanus and her, all that mattered to you was that he had assured you it wasn't romantic. Just shared ambitions to both win something. In her case her life and in his the Plinth Prize, not that that went well for her since she had disappeared shortly after she went home. You weren't quite sure what to make of Lucy Gray, the mysterious Songbird who had enchanted all of Panem just five years ago. You had only spoken to her once and it was just to compliment her singing during her interview. She hadn't exactly impressed you with her in that moment but she must have impressed Coriolanus at some point if he was willing to break rules for her.
Or perhaps his change was due to whatever training Peacekeepers went through and the death of Sejanus that had rocked the entire Capitol when he was revealed as a traitor, you knew Coriolanus had been close to him. Of course, despite all his changes and attitude adjustments, he never applied them to you. So, here you stayed by his side, happy that he still loved you the same. Soft touches and sweet words remained constant as the two of you aged and explored the advantages of adulthood. One of your favorite things about being 23 was moving out of your family's home and into the penthouse Coriolanus had chosen for the two of you. Waking up next to Coriolanus each day and seeing how he looked before his eyes fluttered open had to be your favorite part of the days you spent together. Brushing his hair from his eyes and counting the freckles that just barely brushed his pale skin was something you did daily until his pretty blue eyes met yours again. Once he did wake though, it was hard to get him to stay in bed with you. His peaceful state was always replaced with a man who was always working towards something, ambition was always fueling him.
You didn't mind his rough exterior that emerged each morning though, Coriolanus was cold and hard on everyone but you. Perhaps it was your shared childhood memories and teenage romance that prevented him from treating you coldly like he did poor Tigris but you weren't sure. One thing you did know was that the boy you grew up with was gone and a man stood in his place, brooding and cold to everyone but you.
"I'm going to get us a drink and then if you want we can dance." He whispered in your ear
"Can you get me that fizzy lemon drink they usually serve?" You ask
"Of course, I'll bring you some of those hors d'oeuvres you like with the cheese as well."
And then, he was gone from your side moving expertly through the crowd. That dazzling blonde hair accompanied by the broadest shoulders you've ever seen on a man disappeared among the throngs of people craning their necks to get a better look at the future president and his pretty face.
"A true marvel isn't he?" a voice to your right said
You turned to be met by none other than Lucky Flickerman, a drink in one hand and a young child's hand grasped in the other.
"I'm not interested in doing an interview, Lucky. If you want information on Coryo you can ask him yourself." You say, ready to walk away from the Capitol's favorite news anchor turned Hunger Games host.
"Coryo...what an interesting nickname, a bit childish for a man who might watch over us all soon. No matter, I would however absolutely love to report on you one day and maybe even that big business you're the heiress of, but I'm actually talking to you for this little one tonight." Lucky smiles motioning to the boy who you guessed was his son. "He was admiring that stunning dress of yours and I thought he might want to see it up close and personal."
For once you didn't mind being asked about your clothes as you crouched down to the little boy's height, he couldn't be more than 5 or 6.
"You have a good eye, would you like to feel the fabric? The designer I met with made it wonderfully soft." You smile, thinking of how Tigris had gushed over the blood-red fabric that would perfectly match Coriolanus' suit with you just weeks ago.
The boy reaches his hand out and brushes it along expensive fabric and a smile grows on his face.
"What's your name?" You ask
"Caesar." He says "I just turned 6 last week."
"Well, Caesar, six is a marvelous age to be, you can do all sorts of things at six. In fact, when I turned six I learned to ride a bicycle for the first time, I did however scrape my knees half a million times. I even still have a few scars on my knees would you like to see them?." You smile at him and he nods.
"Lucky Flickerman, I thought I told your producers that you weren't allowed to bother her with your idiotic questions the way the other reporters do. You clearly don't value your job, if you did you would have listened to my words." Coriolanus' voice suddenly fills your ears as you quickly right yourself, remembering how he once told you you'd have to start holding yourself with more decorum at these events. 'No more acting like a stupid teenager' had been his exact words one night when you were eating dinner together in your shared room.
"It's fine, his son wanted to say hello." You smile down at Caesar, take your lemon drink, and pop some of the food Coriolanus brought with him into your mouth. You sincerely hoped that you weren't about to witness Lucky being fired by the newest mastermind behind The Hunger Games and future the president.
From the corner of your eye, you see Coriolanus cast an intimidating look down at the boy and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs and force him to apologize to the poor child who was now cowering behind his father's stylish pant leg.
"I'll see you later, Lucky. We are going to go dancing now." Coriolanus says setting your barely sipped drink and food on a tray of a passing server before whisking you away.
"You're bad with children, Coryo." You say as he leads you towards the dance floor.
"And you're bad at reading people, darling." He says, ignoring the way you pouted at your loss of lemon drink and cheese-sprinkled food.
"What do you mean?" You ask, confused
"Lucky just wanted to get you to answer questions about me," Coriolanus says as he leads you in a dance, the both of you had gotten exceptionally better since your failure at 17 in your childhood bedroom.
"Oh." You say, a bit sad that he wasn't genuinely interested in you, just another dumb reporter who wanted news on Coriolanus' next move. It was amazing how Coriolanus always knew what others were thinking and how to approach a situation best.
"It's alright, just ignore him next time," Coriolanus says, gently squeezing your waist as a form of reassurance.
You nod and rest your head on his shoulder as you spin around the dance floor, suddenly wishing you were tangled up in bed with him rather than dancing in heels that were pinching your toes.
"Can I confess something to you?" Coriolanus whispers, his lips tickling your ear.
"Of course, always " You reply honestly
"I hate seeing you interacting with them." He says in a low voice.
"Them?" You ask
"These people. Seeing them ask you questions about your dress or hair, makes me want to toss them into the arena and watch one of Gaul's mutts rip them apart. I hate the way they look at you like you're a piece of meat attached to my side." He says, possessiveness lacing his tone.
"Oh...well I'm sure they don't all think that way." You try to reason, hoping that he wasn't right about this read on others.
"I doubt it. Look at that one by the fountain in the blue jacket." He says nodding to his right.
You glance over to the fountain and see an old man with a fluffy white beard and white hair to match. He seemed to be carefully watching you and Coriolanus spinning on the dancefloor but you weren't quite sure.
"I'm positive he's standing there imagining what it'd look like if this pretty dress was on the floor and you were on top of him," Coriolanus whispers, knowing it'll have you blushing in his arms.
"Coryo..." You say, trying to keep your composure as he presses his body to yours while you wonder if he's truly right and the old man across the pretty courtyard is truly ogling you.
"Too bad I'm the only one who will ever know what that looks like." He says a certain arrogance in his voice you can't quite place.
"Stop it." You scold, trying to hide the fact that your face is as red as your dress.
"Why? I can't wait to get back to our bedroom tonight and bring what's in my head to life." Coriolanus laughs, his voice was husky in your ears and making you weak in the knees.
"You're so embarrassing, Coryo." You say into his chest, avoiding that sharp gaze he had. How could someone act so well-composed but also have the dirty mind of a perverted teenage boy?
Coriolanus stops leading your dance and hooks a finger under your chin so you're looking up at him again. Sharp blue eyes that felt like they were staring into your soul looked at you, full of passion and want.
"My heart burns for you, darling, as it always has. You're mine, my perfect girl, all mine." He promises before swooping in to deliver what might qualify as the most monumental kiss in all of history.
A certain warmness spreads across your body as he kisses you in public for the first time. It's moments like this with your Coriolanus make your heart swell, these moments remind you that the little boy with the golden curls you met when you were just twelve lives on, just in a different way. You know the teenager you once ate cabbage soup and bread with sweet jam watches over you as you kiss his 23-year-old self, you know he's smiling at where the two of you are now. You're sure that the same boy who once spun you around your childhood bedroom to your favorite slow song is still here with you now, even if he rarely shows his face. Coriolanus Snow is always watching over you, every version of him envelopes you tonight as he shows the world who you are to him.
Your head spins and your lungs burn as you hear a few whoops and cheers from onlookers while others whisper about how Coriolanus' hands are wandering all over your body. You're sure the way he's kissing you is going to end up on some Capitol news reel tomorrow morning but you can't find the heart to care. Somewhere in his chest, you feel Coriolanus let out a deep groan when you run your hands through his hair ruining the way it was perfectly styled for the evening. You gasp when his teeth nip at your bottom lip and pull away, a gasp for air leaving your now surely swollen lips.
"All yours, Coryo." You assure him and lean in for another kiss.
You smile as he kisses back and couldn't care less about what the world around you thinks, you had your Coryo, the boy who you grew up with and ate cabbage together in his decrepit home, the same boy who danced with you despite his own lack of skill. You were with your Coriolanus, the man who was going to carry Panem into a new age of glory.
Part Three
Series Masterlist
Read the Teaser here
So I uh sorta ended up abandoning fluffy Coryo thoughts from part one and went with the reader's pov of him at 23, I hope that's okay with all of you. He still loves you though don't worry, it's just in his own Coryo way. His own magically manipulative Coryo way. I was initially going to make this part during the 10th Hunger Games but then I thought, wouldn't it be interesting to see how he interacts with reader post Lucy Gray considering how much she changes his ideals. To make things clear, every moment with Lucy Gray and Coryo has occurred and the reader is unaware of pretty much all of it here, obviously since she's so goo goo gah gah over him.
If you'd like more of my writings about Coryo and you, my fic Blank Space might be the read for you, it also has a part two that is available now You can read them both here. (Yes it's based on the Taylor Swift song)
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rockingbytheseaside · 24 days
Text
✦ How you have contrasting personalities but they drop everything for you anyway
Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche (separate) 
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They say love can change anyone, but you have yet to agree with this statement. You never wanted anyone to alter themselves for you, especially if that someone is your beloved. Instead, you always believed that people should stay true to themselves while maintaining mutual love and adoration for each other. And that's how you and your beloved were - contrasting in looks, attitudes, and habits. Yet it made your beloved cherish you all the more, even if it caused unsuspecting passers to raise eyebrows in shock… Maybe it's because your beloved is actually a dreaded Fatui Harbinger, and people didn't expect him to be head over heels whenever you’re in the same room. But what can you say? He always was a softie for you. 
✧ Pierro doesn’t attend public gatherings. Period. Ask any of the high-rank Harbingers and they would tell you how lucky it would be if he were even present for a Harbinger’s inauguration, like when Arlecchino was declared 4th or when Tartaglia received his Delusion. Nevertheless, it is clear that The Jester does not squander his time with social events or benign pleasantries; he’s present only on important occasions.
If you can define what’s important in his book, that is.
An example being was a certain Fatui party. It is not uncommon for the Regrator to organize lavish evenings, especially in recognition if a Harbinger obtained a gnosis, or if another significant mission was masterfully accomplished. The grander was the task, the bigger the event would be. Of course, Pierro never attends those either. 
During one of those organized events - you, of all people, decided to come. Dressed in your finest, glittering lotus flower silk and white silver adorned your figure while you timidly stood amongst the high nobles of Snezhnaya. Your presence was not an unwelcome sight, but you did not strive to bring attention to you either. Expensive parties with Fatui diplomats and Snezhnayan aristocrats were not your usual cup of tea.
Your presence did not bring awning gasps, but Pierro’s did. 
Unannounced, the Director arrived at this sudden party, bringing hushed murmurs amongst the crowds of subordinates and colleagues. Likewise, he wore his most exquisite suit, a mantle-like cape flowing elegantly over his broad shoulders. Before guests and attendees could greet his arrival, The Jester marched straight ahead, not bothering to gaze at whoever tried to initiate conversation. 
No, the man’s attention was focused straight at you, as he passed through everyone and swiftly approached you. With an outstretched hand, a knowing gaze was cast upon you, as he spoke:
“If I may,” - he brought the back of your hand closer to his lips “Would you honor me with a dance?” 
You obliged. Now everyone in the gala was gaping at you two with grandiloquent murmurs. 
“My most cherished, why did you not warn me you’d attend the ball?” - The Jester whispered to your ear, his gloved hand intertwined with yours as the two of you waltzed elegantly. 
“Well, I just thought it would be futile to bother you. You usually hate such occasions.” - you muttered back, overwhelmed at the prospect of meeting his icy gaze; a gaze that only looked at you in tender love and yearning.   
“Then may I inquire on why you decided to attend this one? You avoid them as well.” 
“Okay, just please don’t laugh,” - you whispered. As Pierro kept a hand on your waist, he danced with you across the ballroom, using his broad form to shield you from the unwelcoming gazes of the guests. “You gifted me this fancy attire that I kept hiding in my closet for many months… I simply didn’t have a reason to wear it. So I forced myself to go out just so I could have the excuse of wearing something nice. U-um, that’s it.”  
“And that’s it, love?” 
“...Yeah,” - you nodded defeatedly “Also because I didn’t want to busy you from work.” 
“Oh, my most beloved.” - The Director emitted a hushed chuckle as you two conversed and danced, making sure his words were heard only by you. “I can make all your attires gala-worthy if you so desire. You do not need to be coy, ask and I shall accompany you on any grand occasion." 
Thus, the jester may not attend social events, as he only frequents important ones - the ones you're in, that is. As he whisked you away with a dance and a dip, he kept his hand delicate around you to escape the company of noisy guests who wished to bother you two. But what would be a ball with his lips gently grazing your cheeks at the end of each dance, telling you: 
“Besides, I cannot allow other attendees to assume you are available, now can I? Not while you look so stunning tonight.” 
✧ When Il Capitano was first spotted with you during workout practice, people didn’t even fathom you were his beloved, the only person equal to the Captain. The two of you were simply so…  opposite. The Harbinger was big and imposing, while you were smaller and approachable; which isn’t even a fair comparison, because Capitano just towers over anyone. Everyone looks small next to him! 
Nevertheless, when Capitano had his usual daily practicum along with his rumored significant other, some Fatui soldiers tried to sneak glimpses. Yet what a jarring spectacle it was to see the immovable, assertive Harbinger dismiss his commanding tone in favor of being patient and attentive. 
“My dear, you’ve already run a set of laps and tried to outbeat me during pushup exercises. You are putting too much strain on your ankles after your previous training. We should-” 
“No, we can still go for another round! Fight me!” 
“But, my love-” 
“Fight me!!!”    
Anyway, the fight abruptly subsided. Not because you lost, but because Capitano swiftly lifted you into his arms the instant you launched yourself onto him, consequently refusing to put you down. Therefore, you find yourself being carried by your partner's muscled arms while your feet dangle.
“Aw man, not fair…” - you mumbled, settling to rest on Capitano's forearms. “It's not even a duel if you're just lifting me like a toddler. Set me down, Cappy!” 
“It’s an effective tactic, one that easily neutralizes a hotheaded opponent like yourself.” - Capitano explained calmly. In reality, his body moved with pride as he held onto you securely, as if you were his prized reward for today's training. 
The captain set you down, his armored hands trailing down to your leg, sending a tingling graze onto your skin. And indeed, his punctilious gaze spotted how you tried to hide a limp when exercising. 
“You sprained your ankle,” - Capitano stated.
“Listen, it's not a big deal. Just a strain, I had worse happen.” 
You tried to defend yourself, but The Harbinger already expected your excuses. The man knew better than to argue with you, and instead settled on removing your footwear and gently checking on your injury.
“This is no condition to continue training, my dear. If I let you continue, you'd stubbornly reach Celestia with bloodied knuckles and broken limbs.”
“Yeah! And you bet I'd win!’” - you retorted brightly. At the sight of your confident smile, Capitano chuckled deeply, his pitch-black helmet pressing into your forehead with tender motion.
“I am certain you will, my love. You'll drag The Heavenly Principles by the ear, and have them weeping by your gaze alone. But now, we should get you to rest and apply some ice to your ankle. Shall I carry you?”
You sighed deeply, having no option but to let your beloved's experienced hands help you with your soreness. “Oh well… fine.”
Capitano's training could wait. There was a more crucial matter at hand, literally. With his massive yet calm form carrying you away, your gaze remained fierce but forbearing. 
If some Fatui soldiers witnessed today's event, they'd have to conceal their inconspicuous glances and smiles. After all, the sight of Il Capitano being the big, loving teddy-bear, while you being a menacing gremlin was undoubtedly shock-inducing.  
Nonetheless, who else is worthy of being carried by the 1st Fatui Harbinger and pampered by him? Only you, of course.
✧ Il Dottore is a destructive, stern man. Hunched over the examination table, his gloved hands were tainted in blood while his jaw clenched in aggravation. His hours of working in the lab easily make him irritated, and this irritation further increases whenever certain scientific experiments do not bear fruit. A tense air of suspension was now lingering in his lab; a sign of an upcoming violent outburst.
“Lord Harbinger…” - one of Dottore's lab assistants began, trying to muster the courage to speak without shaking. “This experiment requires another round of testing, w-we might need to start over,”
The Doctor remained still, but the dangerous clutch of the scalpel in his hand didn't go unnoticed. “Perhaps I did not make myself clear?” 
He straightened his shoulders, his masked expression gleaming with malice and murderous intent with each syllable hissed.
“I have given you one simple task. Bring me the results. If this experiment is not completed by tomorrow at the earliest, I will have to remind you how brittle, and puny your useless bones can be-”
Suddenly, the lab door slams open. From the heavy metal doorway, a hasty but familiar person quietly saunters in, unknowingly saving the poor soul that was about to be Dottore's next target. Of course, the person in question is - you. 
“Dottore?” A small murmur escaped you. You stepped closer to Dottore and tugged at his sleeve. “I’m sorry, I can't sleep…” 
An abrupt silence settled in the lab. 
The unnerving tension of the lab was diverted as if a switch was flipped in Dottore's brain. The man swiftly set his scalpel aside, discarded his bloody gloves, and turned into a softer tone when talking to you. 
“Hm, is it so late already? I apologize dear, time must've slipped past me. Do you want me to brew us some tea and join you in bed?”
“Yes, please… Chamomile. if you're not busy, of course.” - you nodded, a tender smile settling on your face.
The sight was fascinating. The eccentric, mad scientist was instantly replaced by a doting partner, who would lower himself to kneel before you and put his hands on your shoulders as if all his lab work and blood-stained messes were already forgotten. Dottore's assistants were indeed quite baffled when you entered the lab. But what was more confusing is that the sudden change of attitude was so drastic, that they all froze in silence and subordination. The poor, unfortunate underlings; one minute dealing with their Lord Harbinger's harsh demeanor, and the other witnessing him hugging you and gazing at you like a lovesick puppy. 
“Perhaps it’s time to wind down for today. I was about to finish for today, anyway. I'll make your tea as you like it and accompany you in bed, dearest.” - Dottore's hand gently rested on your back, as he leisurely ushered you to leave with him. 
“And as for the experiments,” - just before the Harbinger could leave with you in his arms, he sent an ominous glance towards his assistants, one that even through a mask portrayed lethal resolve - “deal with it.”  
Oh well. Someone is staying overtime in the lab. That's how The Doctor was with his work - cruel and unattached. However, unbeknownst to people, when he's back with you in bed, that man is clinging to you throughout the night, groaning about his research while burying his head against your chest. His face takes refuge against the warmth of your body, arms encircling you in a needy embrace around your torso. 
Sometimes, he just needs a good squeeze from you when you cuddle him, that's all.  
✧ A day cannot be concluded if there wasn’t a single instance where Scaramouche’s grumbles weren’t accompanied by your bright grins. Scaramouche has a reputation for his sour disposition whenever he is discontented, that much is known. What isn't known is that the only person who tolerates his cynicism is someone as bright and cheerful as you. Like two sides of the same coin.  
“Hmph, Pathetic. Just because some flowers are blooming doesn’t mean it requires a whole festival to be commemorated for.”  
“Oh, come on, Scara. You accompany me to every Hanami event.” - you smiled back in response to the Harbinger’s scoffs, but the 6th crossed his arms. 
“They are no different each year. Same cherry blossoms, same food stalls you drool over.” 
“But Scara…! The Dango!” 
That’s how the two of you wind up in a narrow cobble street, protected under the soft shadows of cherry blossom, while cascading pink petals gently fall around you. Well, that is how you wind up here, while Scaramouche was naturally dragged by you. Arms linked with one another, the Puppeteer kept his iconic look of displeasure, a huge contrast to your joyous one. One would assume The Harbinger could easily flee your torment and make you scram, but on the contrary: 
He is the one who makes sure your hand is intertwined with his, says “To keep you from running away like a child in a crowd”. 
He is the one running his thumb over your skin, his hand squeezes yours, and says “Don’t get too excited over the food stalls.”      
He is the one rushing with you to find a good secluded spot, away from the crowd, while his hand pulls you closer by the waist, and says “It’s too loud. Here, stay closer.” 
And of course, he is the one buying your favorite Hanami Dango and says “You asked for it so you better enjoy it. And make sure to chew it properly - dango is sticky.” 
For someone who underlines his disapproval vocally, he sure pampers you with no objection about your interests. You’d muse and tease, saying that it was his way of enjoying flower viewing without saying it. However, before you could utter the words, a strong gust of spring wind blew past the street, sending a plethora of flower petals blowing into everyone’s faces. You shielded your eyes, whereas Scaramouche gently tugged at his ichimegasa hat, pulling you closer to further shield you. 
“See? I told you this yearly custom is a nuance.” - he lamented, but his words came out more as a murmur than a groan, perhaps because he held you directly in his proximity. Your faces were closer, and the veil of his hat served as concealment from any public eyes. 
You’d smile. He sure complained a lot, and Scaramouche didn’t like sweet deserts like you did. But whenever the opportunity arose, he’d make sure he had you under the veil of his hat, pressed flush by the hip to him. And if he was lucky, he might taste the sweetness of Dango through your lips instead.  
Listen, I'm a sucker for fluff, okay?
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certifiedyapperx · 2 months
Text
Captain John Price • broken.
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PAIRING: John Price x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: the result of my poll. in short, you tell your captain that the reason you’ve only dated one man is because your ex said you were broken due to your inability to orgasm; and price offers to show you that the only thing broken was your confidence.
WORD COUNT: 5.3k (got carried away.)
TAGS: 18+, PURE FILTHY SMUT MDNI, Slight Degradation, Praise, Multiple Orgasm, PIV, Semi-Public Sex, Dirty Talk, Absurd amount of swearing, Fingering, Price being daddy as fuck.
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"What about that ex girlfriend of yours, Gaz?"
As soon as those words left the Scottish lads lips, everyone in the room was giggling like a lot of fucking schoolgirls. You'd be lying if you said that didn't include yourself.
"You want to talk about ex girlfriends now, Soap?" Gaz sat forward in his chair, eyeing his grinning teammate from across the room, the grip on his glass so tight you were worried it'd shatter between his fingers. "What about that woman you boned in Prague? The one that wanted, oh--how do I say it...a little ride on train 141."
"Nuthin' little about that train." Ghost added through a choked chuckle, barely able to get the words out.
Your fucking abdomen was starting to get sore from the amount of laughing you'd done tonight. These men were absolutely ridiculous. You'd never heard more obscene sex stories in your damn life, and they've got a bloody abundance of them--the back and fourth taunting over who fucked who and who did what never seemed to end. It was almost three in the morning and they were still going strong.
"Aye," Soap leaned back in his chair, bringing his glass up to his lips and taking a slow sip, wide eyes gleaming as he reminisced. "Fuckn' wild one, that one. Had her nice and tamed for me by the end of that deployment.”
"Aye, the fucking woman whisperer, this one," Ghost chimed in again, his balaclava half pulled up, exposing his stubble-donned chin and grinning lips as he took a hefty swig of bourbon. Not even fazed. "Almost as smooth as Price."
Everyone in the room chuckled, nodding and muttering words of agreement, but you were stuck in place--still absentmindedly staring at Ghost while turning the words over in your mind, curiosity piqued.
"Price?" His name left your lips before you could even attempt to prevent it.
All eyes in the room shifted toward you, and Gaz cocked an eyebrow. "You've never heard any of his stories?"
Ghost shot him a look. "Clearly not."
"I mean, I've heard some..." you mumbled, awkwardly trying to fix the mess you've just made. Your gaze darted between the three men staring at you, each set of eyes glazed with confusion, clearly trying to figure out why you were so taken aback. "Captain is far more secretive than the rest of you."
You'd been on the team for a solid eight months. Since recruitment, you'd worked alongside Price every single fucking day, yet the man hardly ever spoke about his personal life.
Unlike the others, who seemed to never stop.
"Around you, yeah." Soap mumbled with a smirk, shooting a knowing glance toward Gaz who instantly returned it.
Your brows knit in confusion. "Around me?"
"Aye." Ghost replied for Soap, and you were practically sitting on the edge of your goddamn seat as you knew he wasn't finished. He shifted lower in his chair as his eyes traced up and down your form. "You're new. You're hot. You've never spoken a word about your own personal life. The man's a bloody nutcase, but he hides it well when he needs to--he probably doesn't want to scare you off."
"Scare me off?" You had to fight to keep your jaw off the floor. Trying to mask your confusion, you cleared your throat. "What's that supposed to mean?"
At your reaction, everyone chuckled again, and your face immediately flushed with blood--shading you the same crimson colour found on a ripe fucking tomato. If there was some joke happening here, it'd clearly flown way above your radar.
And yet, before you or anyone else could even consider speaking again, the man of the hour appeared in the doorway, and you nearly fell out of your chair.
"Valid question." He didn't even acknowledge you as he spoke, eyes fixed on Ghost as he took a step into the room.
Gods, he was fucking attractive—every molecule in your being screamed at the sight of him. You'd done everything you could to ignore that fact for the entirety of your time here, ensuring your focus was trained on keeping things professional--but after two glasses of whiskey and the current topic of conversation, the flood gates were wide fucking open.
"Go on, Ghost," his voice was low, deep as the depths of your desire as his ocean eyes slowly danced around the room. "...I'd like to know the answer as well."
Price took a seat across from you, slouching slightly and nodding toward Soap who promptly poured him a glass of burning brown liquid and slid it across the table. Ghost pulled down his balaclava in attempt to hide his cheeky fucking grin, shrugging as though he had no idea what his Captain was on about. 
"Not sure what you mean, Cap." Ghost quipped, and you could practically hear the beaming delight in his words. "We're just talking."
"Hm," Price side-eyed him, humoured. "You always talk about me?"
"Only when you're not around." Soap chimed in, snuffing a groan in his throat as he'd downed the rest of his drink and stood up, shooting an inebriated nod to each of you. "Well, would you look at the time--I'm gonna' hit the sack. Duty calls, y'know."
Your stomach churned with confusion, your eyes glued to the Scottish bloke who decided it was convenient to make his exit the exact moment Price entered the room. You almost wanted to reach over and yank him back into his seat.
"Keep it classy ya filthy bastards."
He shot you a cheeky wink from beyond the door frame before disappearing into the abyss, only for Gaz and Ghost to rise from their seats as well, seemingly following Soap's lead, muttering excuses about how late it was and how exhausted they were.
Your mind raced at lightning speed, trying to make sense of the sudden exodus. You were going to kill those fuckers in the morning.
Price broke the silence before it had the chance to linger for too long. "It's not personal, you know."
Your heart slammed your sternum. You sucked in a breath and trapped it there. You needed to calm the fuck down--though that seemed like a goddamn impossible task at the moment. Prices' voice was the hypnotizing depth of a black hole. It stirred every last atom within you.
Avoiding his eyes, you straightened in your seat, clearing your throat. "I know."
"Do you?" He cocked an eyebrow, two fingertips tracing the rim of his glass. "I'm not so sure."
You looked up now--almost immediately regretting it as your eyes caught his. You forced words out of your mouth before you could acknowledge how the way he was looking at you made you feel.
"It's because I haven’t opened up to you..." you murmured. "Yeah?"
Price nodded, choosing to remain silent, his gaze anchoring you to the floor—every muscle stiff as stone.
You cleared your throat again. "Well. What do you want to know? My family? Where I grew up-"
"No." He cut you off, leaning forward, elbows resting on the table as his stare intensified. "...I already know all that. You're my recruit, I know everything about your past..." his head tilted, his eyes narrowed, and he pushed his glass to the side, clasping his hands together infront of him. "What I don't know, is why a woman as skilled, as smart, and as undeniably attractive as you, has only ever been with one man."
Blood crystallized in your veins, every ounce of your skin vibrating with an emotion you couldn't identify. He was so close—closer than you'd initially gauged—and that closeness ignited dormant desperation, one you'd nearly forgotten existed.
Your throat was thick. Saliva lodged inside it. "I..."
There was a reason. There was a very good reason as to why you've only been with one man, why you promised to never put yourself through that shit again. But you couldn't bring yourself to say it, you couldn't bring yourself to speak the words aloud. That would mean being vulnerable, humiliatingly vulnerable--one of the many things soldiers were trained not to be.
Captain Price hummed, leaning back slightly, and a swarm of unpreventable desire roared alive in your chest. His attention flicked over you. Like he'd felt it.
He remained silent. He was waiting for an answer.
"It's...um..."
Your brain filtered through pages of plausible excuses until it landed on one. Inhaling a breath, you forced the fibbing syllables past your teeth, shrugging in an attempt to make it believable.
"I just...never found anyone I jived with.”
Price paused, his scrutiny skinning you raw. It was like he knew what was waiting on the edge of your tongue, like he could smell the smoke swirling off the fire below your waist. He wasn't buying it.
"You can't lie to me." His words only confirmed your thoughts. "I mean, theoretically you could, though I'd advise against it."
You swallowed, forcing your eyes to your hands. "I'm not lying."
"Perhaps not," he replied, voice cool as ice. "But you're certainly omitting."
Fuck, he was good. And of course he was--there was a reason he was Captain. He was fucking bred for this. You were certain he could detect a lie from light years away.
"It's embarrassing," you replied, ignoring the thrilled leap your heart made that he'd read you so well. "You'll think less of me."
John Price leaned further across the small table, nibbling the distance between you. The intensity of his focus made your insides tangle, something was undoubtedly churning within his mind. A breath caught in your throat as his eyes held yours.
"I don't care," he stole another inch, and you could now comfortably say that he was well within your personal space. "If this is going to work, there has to be trust. Because you should trust me—as your Captain, and as your friend..." in a single abrupt movement, he stood up, towering over you, eyes boring into the top of your head until he shifted toward the door. "...when you're ready to open up to me, I’ll open up to you."
Ice braced your veins. This was the most conversation you'd had with your Captain since you joined the team, and you were about to blow it with your inability to talk to him. To just telling him the fucking truth. He took a step back from the table, began moving toward the door, and you panicked.
You let him get two steps from reaching it before you jumped up, out of your seat. "Wait!"
Time was a relative concept. But as your Captain spun, and as you linked eyes with him, it slowed. Stopped.
You cleared your throat for the millionth time. "It's because...it's because I'm broken."
Price's eyes widened, only momentarily, before they narrowed--out of curiosity or skepticism, you couldn't tell.
"You’re broken." He said, drawing the words out on his tongue while taking a slow, lengthy step toward you. "Elaborate."
You dropped your eyes to the floor again, catching sight of his brown, rugged combat boots as they stepped into your line of sight. Heat flashed your face, and you shifted on your feet.
"My...my ex...um," your voice was barely above a whisper. Something felt gut-wrenchingly humiliating about having this conversation with your fucking Captain. "He, he kinda fucked with my head, I guess. Made me never want to date again."
You heard an exhale, a huff of enticed breath leaving lungs.
"I think," Price eased closer, and you caught whiff of his cologne--the scent engulfing your senses, sending hunger snarling and snapping for relief. "...you're omitting again."
"Why?..." you blurted, trailing your gaze past the vast expanse of his strong chest and up to his gleaming eyes peering down at you. You blinked. "...do you think that?"
Price raised a brow. "Am I wrong?"
"No, it’s just…” you closed your eyes, took a breath. Let it out. No point in lying. Just rip off the fucking bandaid. "He broke up with me because I couldn't orgasm. He said I was broken because of it. It’s dumb, but it hurt.”
Gods, it felt so fucking stupid that you had to smile, had to damn near laugh at yourself. As much as it sounded so foolish, you'd always just considered that maybe something was actually wrong with you. After all, he was your first, and your only—and the fact that you could never orgasm bothered you, too.
However, when you finally reopened your eyes, swallowing whatever ounces of pride you had left, you found a depth to your Captain's ocean irises that was not there before.
There was something floating inside them, now--something primal, something depraved.
"Interesting." His hand raised from his side, grazing over your cheek and coming to a slow on your neck, the tips of his fingers skimming over your racing pulse. "Broken."
Any blood that had been left in your head was now plummeting to your core.
"Broken." You whispered.
Price exhaled, his breath caressing your face, and you bit your lip to stifle the whimper that wanted to thrust itself past your teeth. Never once would you have considered the thought of actually fucking your Captain--but right here, right now, with the way he was touching you, analyzing you, palpably tempting you--it was becoming more difficult to deny the physical need steaming from your pores.
"This,” his voice was so deep it made your blood sweat, his thumb stroking your pulse. "Doesn't feel broken at all."
Adrenaline surged you, ambushing your lungs with rapid breath, flares of lust sparking over your skin. You leaned into his touch, and he let out a sound that was somewhere between a hum and a straight up growl.
Your pulse soared, your hand finding his wrist. “Captain…”
It would be lying to say you thought this was a good decision. But you couldn't find a fuck within you. After years of denying yourself any sort of physical touch due to the shame that consumed you, Price had perceived it without effort and ordered you strip yourself of pretense in his presence.
"Let me show you...." Price wedged a boot between your feet, his hips brushing yours, other hand finding your hip. "...that the only thing broken is your confidence."
You nearly whimpered. "Please."
Without further contemplation, your eyes darted to his lips the same millisecond his darted to yours, and you both moved at once. Price groaned, one hand shooting into your hair, the other supporting the small of your back, tugging you close. His hungry mouth captured yours, teeth nipping your lower lip as he spun you around and pushed you back against the table.
You groaned into his mouth, your ass hitting the cool metal with abrupt force. His lips attacked your jawline, moved down to your neck, and another groan escaped you, this time in bliss.
"Fuck," you cursed under your breath, throwing your hips into his, allowing desperation to guide you. "Captain..."
A low, menacing noise reverberated in his throat and he seized your neck again, bringing his mouth to your ear.
"My name," he took the lobe between his teeth, earning a squeak. "Say it."
"John—" You gasped, clawing at his back. "Shit."
"Mm. Good girl. So obedient..." he purred, tracing his mouth along the curve of your ear. "So responsive."
"Fuck." Every new beat of your heart brought a desperate pulse to your cunt. His fingers found your hair again, curling into a fist. "John...please..."
Your Captain hummed, just as his lips moved back to your pulse and attacked it, sucking rough rabid marks to the surface, his hips grinding against yours. Your eyelids fluttered shut, and he moved lower, releasing your head to work on removing your clothes.
Before your belt even hit the floor, he was tearing off your shirt and tugging off your bra--exposing your breasts to the cool air of the dimly lit room, surging goosebumps to life that he was quick to cover with his hands, taking the fresh tissue between them and kneading it.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, to himself you presumed. "You're fucking perfect."
There was one brief second of thought surrounding the notion that any one of your teammates could walk in and find the two of you here—but that thought was quickly lost as Price leant down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. You squealed, squeaking in pleasure, and his grip possessed your hips.
"So sensitive..." he said with a grunt. Your Captain wasn't just hungry—he was starved, more voracious by the second, spurred on by your reactions. "Fucking hell."
He leaned back, hooked his fingers under the waist of your pants and pulled, unconcerned for the ripping seams as he forced them down the curve of your thighs. Your head rung, entire body tingling. Paralyzed, you watched your Captain tear off your boots and rip your pants free, tossing them all to the side.
"Fuck me." He muttered again, returning his sights to your figure. "Look at you."
Price examined you like a meal, gaze traveling from your collarbone to your breasts, down past the curve of your belly to the swell of your hips, coming to a slow between your quivering thighs.
Adrenaline had got you this far. Reality was setting in. "Captain..."
"Shh," calloused hands found your hips, urging you back against the desk, spreading your legs further apart as he inserted himself between them. "I already told you what to call me."
You shuddered, twitching from his touch, and the corner of his lip quirked. Smouldering blue eyes searing into your skin. "John, I—"
His thumbs slid close to your heat, dipping into the crease and teasing close to the edge of your thong. Reality was a plummeting star, crashing down into your mind without regard. Nerves were consuming you, fingers digging into his biceps in attempt to stop them from shaking.
"You...what?" His voice was practically a lullaby. How something so deep could be so soothing was beyond your comprehension. "Go on, pretty thing..."
"I just..." you shifted your hips, trying to balance fear with desire. "I'm just...I don't want to disappoint you..."
Price assessed you, only for a moment, gracing your thigh with a stern yet gentle smack before trailing upward.
"Enough." It was an order. "I want you out of that beautiful mind."
He brushed his finger across your cunt, grazing over your swollen clit, and you choked, hips snapping toward him.
"Don't think..." the power in his words was intoxicating, a command given with the confidence of knowing you'd obey. He teased your clit again and you whinged, gripping him harder. "...just feel."
Before a coherent thought could enter your head, he pulled your panties to the side with two thick fingers, not giving you a second to brace for it before he used those same fingers and sank them into your tight, aching cunt.
"Oh—fuck-"
You groaned, head tossed back, walls tightening around the delicious stretch as he pried you open with slippery ease. The intensity, the fullness from just his fingers stole your breath, dizzied your mind, and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the growling breath escaping his lungs, trying to ground yourself as much as you could.
"Christ...tight little cunts just soaked..." he was right, you were dripping. You couldn't ever remember being this wet. In truth, you couldn't ever remember being this turned on, this desperate for touch. "Tell me how that feels."
"G-oh, fuck—" any additional words you had planned on using instantly died on your tongue as Price curled inside of you, pushing deep, every coherent thought fleeing your mind with a moan. Your entire body pulsed for him, like he'd shaken every cell awake and enthralled it under his possession. "John—oh, Gods!"
It wasn't like you'd never been fingered. It'd just never felt like this.
Something about the trained motion of his hand, the skilled curl of his wrist, the attunement to your body was consuming you--the need for more only increasing as he found a perfect rhythm, fucking slow, reaching to your belly while his thumb circled your sensitive clit. Your cunt throbbed, squeezed around him, as if to coax him deeper inside of you.
"Needy little thing," an amused huff at the corner of your consciousness. You forced yourself to look at him—he was smirking. "Tell me how it feels."
Desperation was throbbing at your temples, growling and coiling in your belly—unfathomable, incredible desperation stalling your lungs. Unfamiliar, but entirely absentmindedly as Price stroked your walls, stroked your clit, and you were gasping, you were—
"So fucking good—" you were practically screaming, brain a mangled mess of aimless words. "Cap—John, I—I'm-"
His free hand seized your jaw, forcing you to look up into his eyes, his fingers still keeping their pace, your vision blurring to bliss. "You're?"
You gasped. "I’m-"
"You’re close." Fire flooded your flesh, and you mewled like a nervous, helpless animal. His grip tightened. Intensity and power radiating off him in waves. "S’ that what you want, little slut? Hm? You wanna’ fuckin’ cum for your Captain, don’t you?”
“Yes!” No thought required. “Pleasepleaseplease-“
“Mhm. That’s right, that’s right—“ he was just as gone as you were. Air rattled in your lungs like rocks. Your vision blurring as you held onto him like your life depended on it. “Cum on my fingers, darling, let me feel you.”
A scream shredded your throat, submerged in a storm of euphoria, sight whiter than the gates of heaven themselves. Convulsions wracked you, quaked to your bones, and you heaved, hunting for air while he worked you through the receding tide of your release.
“Good fuckin’ girl.” He growled, the arrogance in his tone palpable. “Look how easy that was, hm?”
Your Captian pulled his fingers from cunt and yanked you off the table by the hold on your jaw—you stumbled into him, wetness seeping down your thighs, brain given less than two seconds to process the slew of events before his slick covered fingers were at your lips and pushing past your teeth.
"The way I see it, soldier—there are two possible explanations here." He shoved his fingers deeper, reaching for the back of your throat. "Either you somehow managed to lie to me..." he pressed against you, his desire evident in the way it was jabbing against your stomach. "Or this tight little cunt has never been properly sated."
Your heart was in your feet, your lips sealed around his fingers as you held his eyes, a shade of blue so deep you'd almost thought you were staring into the depths of the ocean. His pupils were blown wide with lust, it was clear what he was getting at—and judging by the way your cunt clenched in response to his words, it was clear that you felt the same.
He pulled his fingers from your mouth, looking for a response. You gave the only words you could think of. "I didn’t lie…I’ve had sex, Captain...I’ve just never done—that.”
"Well I think I've just proven that it wasn’t due to any fault of your own." His words were backing you into a corner, an explanation that was challenging to draw yet completely impossible to now ignore. "I got you there in seconds."
Your face grew hot. “So..what are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” he assessed you, eyes looking past you, through you. “Your ex didn’t know what he was doing.” he leaned in closer, plush lips curling into a mischievous grin. “All you needed was someone who knew how to handle you.”
"Hm." The arrogance was stifling, setting you ablaze. It only made you want him more. "Cocky bastard."
"Cocky," he repeated with a raised brow. "You have no idea, princess.”
"You know what, Captain," you teased with a smirk of your own, unable to tear your sights off him. His eyes. His lips. "I think you just got lucky."
“Luck.” He chuckled—a deep, growling thing. "I don’t do luck, soldier. I do facts.” Price shifted a hand to his crotch, palming his erection through his pants as he pressed against you. “Fact one, I just gave you your first orgasm.” He was possessed, hungry, borderline rabid. “Fact two, I could do it again on my cock. If you’d like.”
And you, you were his eager, willing prey.
"Shit," you muttered, the words shooting straight to your cunt. You didn’t need any further discussion. You wanted him, and nothing could stop the next words from leaving your lips. "Please...please fuck me..."
Your Captain growled. The sweet desperation of your pleas sending him past the point of salvation. He sucked in a breath. Trapped it there—internally clutching whatever ounces of restraint he had left.
"You sure you want this?" His voice was so fucking low you almost missed it. His fingers moved to his belt, and his lips moved to your ear. "I'm not so sure you can take it."
"I'm built for combat, Captain..." you murmured with a grin, spurred on by the evidence of his throbbing desire, fingers trailing toward his belt to help him along. "I'm sure I'll be fine."
Price huffed against your jawline. Amused.
"You’re built for combat, undoubtedly..." you watched as he pulled free his thick, heavy cock. Your jaw slackened, your mouth watered. "But by the time I'm done with you, darling..." he seethed in relief as he guided his hand back and forth along his length, other one directing you back against the table. "You'll be built for me."
A sharp intake of breath found your lungs and then you were lying flat against the table, cool metal biting your backside and ripping goosebumps to the surface of your skin. You shuddered, seething in discomfort, but two strong hands made quick work to soothe them, coasting up your thighs until they found your hips, and then he stepped forward.
"Christ..." you whimpered as he loomed over you, the warm head of his cock rolling over your clit, teasing you with false thrusts, making sure you were well aware of just how long and fucking thick he was. "John..."
"Quiet." He purred, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. "Just let me break you open."
His heavy, smooth tip pressed against your entrance and then pushed in, head just barely spearing you yet somehow still splitting your cunt with a girth that stole your breath and forced a cry from your throat. With a breathless groan he pulled out, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing.
He smacked your thigh again. “Look at me.” He hissed, teeth sinking into the plush of his bottom lip as you instantly obeyed. “That’s it. Eyes on me.”
There was a mere second of silence before he sank in again, entirely this time—and though you were fucking sopped and pliant and voracious, he tore you wide with a sting.
"Oh—fuck-"
You fought for air, your body trembling, fingers clawing at anything that might steady you. He’d stuffed you full with ease, lungs heaving upon impact. Both big hands tightened around you, and he slid out, driving into you again with a hidden hiss of air, earning a loud, shameless groan from your lips.
"Fucking hell.” A dark, low voice rumbled from his throat. "Tight little whore. So fucking tight—"
"You're—oh, fuck—" words died on your tongue as he pulled out, pushed in again, sucking in air through his teeth, working you wider with each plunge into your pussy. You clenched around him, and he snuffed a moan, snapping his hips. "You're fucking huge."
"Mhm, yeah," it was a shameless admission. He placed a palm on your pelvis, pressing down, feeling himself fucking into you. He leaned back slightly, drawing long, slow strokes, forcing you to quake around every inch of his length. "That's how fucking deep I'm in you."
And deep he fucking was. Every centimeter banishing the ability to do anything other than exist as a stammering sheath for his cock. It wasn't penetration—it was pervasion, it was domination. Sex had never felt this intense. Sex had never felt this fucking tranquilizing.
"Christ—Cap-John—fuck—"
Price slid out and rocked in, driving to your stomach with a stab of blissful pain. Eyes snapping shut, you gripped his arms, seething when he thrusted again, and again. Each stroke shoved a cry from your chest, tightened your walls, and this only seemed to entice him, his cock splitting you apart. You scratched at his shoulders, fighting to find yourself in the bewildering delirium.
"There we go." His voice was distant in the sea of pleasure. "Look at you. Brainless on my fucking cock."
Your response was a moan, loud and shameless, gripping onto his arms and matching his rhythm, forcing your hips to his, a plea—faster, harder, more, more. Your Captain hissed in satisfaction, and his hand snaked between you, rolling and teasing your clit.
Your vision blurred for the hundredth time. "Oh, fuck—"
Delirium ascended into ecstasy, pleasure amplified by the stretch of his dick. He fucked into you, his skin smacking yours, his breath heaving in feral huffs.
"Fucking perfect pussy," he growled through his teeth, shifting your legs together and directing both ankles over his left shoulder, his thrusts slowly slightly as you gasped and whimpered, clawing at his hips, the new position causing the head of his cock to kiss your cervix with each thrust. "Mm, fuck...this is what you needed, darling. You needed a proper fucking."
"Fuck," you replied, brain numbed by bliss. Words didn't even make sense. "Deep. So fuck—deep—"
"Fuck—take it, take it little slut." His thumb was back on your clit, swirling it in tight, fast circles, his cock fucking deep into you. "I warned you."
"John—" You needed to scream, fingers clawing at anything they could find. If you weren't broken before, you’d certainly be broken when he was done with you. "Fuck—"
Bliss burned to burst, stars swarmed your sight entirely, and you knew it, knew it was happening, knew that you were about to break. The feeling was so intense you didn't know what to do with yourself, you weren't sure if you could even get the words out to warn him.
Your eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck—I'm—I-I'm..."
"Yeah, that's right." He hissed, teeth barred, hips snapping. He already knew. "Cum for me. Cum on my fucking cock."
Lightning euphoria ripped up your spine with a shameless shriek, your climax shattering you. Your cunt milked his dick, your thighs spasming, your back reached for the ceiling, pleasure possessing your nerves.
"There we go—good little fucking slut—squeezing me so good," it seemed an eternity--he was still fucking you through it, breaking you deep, until he edged his climax. "Fucking hell."
He sputtered, pummelling your cunt with sloppy final thrusts, pouring his cum inside you, grip gouging your flesh until he descended, meeting you in the receding tides of your peaks. Both of you twitched with aftershocks, both of you seeking air.
Once he stalled, you sucked in a long inhale and peeled your eyes open, taking in your surroundings for the first time in however many minutes it had been. The room was still as dim and dreary as it was prior to your mind shattering, the only thing now different was your Captain—who remained looming over the table, cock still buried inside you, precipitation lining his forehead and chest still heaving for breath, piercing gaze perceiving you like a sated predator.
With a glance at your lips, he finally moved, pulling back and out of you, tucking himself away. It was then that reality struck you hard—you'd just fucked your Captain. And he'd just shattered the preconceived notions of everything you thought you knew.
You were not broken. You were perfectly fucking fine.
Price cleared his throat as you pulled yourself off of the table and stood. "Y'alright?"
You nodded, grabbing your pants off the floor. "Yes, Sir."
Shame engulfed you, for reasons you couldn't explain. Embarrassment threatened to swallow you whole.
"Hey." Sensing this, Price stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "Don't do that."
Your eyes fixed on his. Outlining his perfectly tamed facial hair, his striking blue eyes. "Do what?"
"Avoid me." He simply stated, his voice hardly above a whisper. "All this was, was me proving to you that you're not broken. You're the furthest from. It doesn't have to be any more than that."
"I know…just feel stupid, I guess.” Your face was in flames. You swallowed your pride until it was digested. There was no room for that here, not after what’d just happened. “I, uh, I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry.”
Price regarded you with eyes warm as the summer sun, shaking his head ever-so-slightly. “I wanted you to open up to me. Willingly. I never pry.”
You cracked a smile, slipping on your shoes. “You got your wish, then. Emotionally and physically.”
“Aye.” Your captain chuckled, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and plopping himself into a seat, sliding a glass across the table toward you. “My turn, yeah?”
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ambrosiagoldfish · 3 months
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I loved your Adam x 3rd spouse piece! I think you really captured his personality! I also just really like you're writing style! You did an qmzyjob and I think you'll continue make amazing pieces like this? Have a wonderful day or night and continue to rest if you can! 🥰🥰🥰
Benefit of the doubt Pt.3
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Viewer discretion is advised
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angsty, General Adam TW’s, Reader HIGHKEY has a complex about being loved, Reader finally talks about their issues, Lucifer and Lilith scout for new kissing partner but fails miserably/hj, Lilith will probably be OOC in the future (once Season 2 comes), Adam has abandonment issues, Adam is a puppy in private but a bitch in public, And the couch returns once again (why do all the sad things happen on this couch), This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader! (Annnnnd We popped the Y/n cherry! It’s used only once tho)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
Request box: Open
Word count: 3664
A/N: Hi!!! Thanks so much! I’m using your request as the ask for part 3 so I hope that’s ok! You all were so nice with all the love for part 1 and 2 😭😭🫶🫶 this part is also pretty long but I just couldn’t stop writing it. I wanted to do 1 more part set in the past before we jump to the angst that is the show. So I guess you could call this the penultimate part! A lot of people wanted to see Lucifer hit on Reader and try to do what he did with Lilith and Eve but with Reader. And I had quite a hard time coming up with a reason that could occur in the past but I think I figured it out.
Since Luci and Lilith would still be together at this time I’ve decided to add Lilith in as well for POLY GOALS. Also they may seem malicious but I genuinely don’t think they are (they just find Reader hot LBH) 😭😭 Also I added a few more people to the tag list!
Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily
It’s been a while since Adam first moved into your newly shared home. You weren’t sure exactly how long, it was hard to keep track of time in heaven. Days seemed to blur together. It made sense to you at least, it is heaven after.
After Adam moved in, your life was filled with so many new things to experience with him, and the same was true for him. While he may seem a bit brutish, (and at times he can be) he loved the new things you showed him, the new feelings you showed him.
You were so kind, so thoughtful and so, so patient with him. You never forced him to do something he didn’t want to do but you would still push him to explore new things, even managing to convince him to be a part of heaven's official duties. That’s why, at times like these, you knew exactly what to do.
The sound of Adam slamming the front door as he entered the house made you jump. Even from a few feet away, you could hear him mumbling curses about something as he plopped himself down on the couch. You followed quickly behind, gently laying next to him
“Hey, what’s wrong?” You try to keep your voice light and soothing. Looking at him it was obvious that something was bothering him. The gold feathers of his wings were unkempt from them flaring up, his halo was slightly crooked and his LED mask showed an almost snarled expression.
Your hand slowly caressed his wings, moving the out of place feathers back to normal. But no matter how hard you tried they would stick back out.
“It’s nothing, just some lame shitty meeting I have to go to tomorrow” he crosses his arms and looks away from you.
“Hmm? Something tells me there’s more to it than that, right?” You snuggle into his belly, rubbing it softly .
His mask pouts “Dammit’ bitch, how do you always see through me, huh?” He sighs defeatedly before continuing “You know how more people are starting to kick the bucket or whatever? Well, heaven’s worried about the surplus of sinners so they're having the aforementioned shitty meeting to come to a solution and…”
He pauses
“And?” You look at him anticipatingly
“And… He’ll be there.” Oh… So that's why he’s upset. “They’re having the meeting in their brand new “heaven embassy” down in hell.” His voice mocks
“Oh, I’m so sorry Adam, Have you tried asking Sera if you can sit this one out?”
Adam groans, putting his face in his hands “Yeah like forty fucking times but she keeps saying that it’s my “heavenly duty” and she won’t let me.”
You bring your arms around Adam’s neck pulling him in towards you. You weren’t sure what to do if you were being honest. There’s nothing you can do really, if even Sera won’t let him miss it. Hmm…
“Adam, I know it’s gonna suck but if you can’t get out of it, then that’s that.” Adam looks at you a little confused “but I can go with you, I’m sure Sera wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands in the discussion.”
“What! Hell no!” He shouted as he sat up from the couch, shaking his head defiantly.
You look at him confused, “Why?”
“That’ll only make the whole thing fucking worse! If it’s just me, I don’t have to worry that he’ll get anywhere near you!” Adam’s mask turns into a slight grimace as he attempts to keep his eyes off you.
You make your way to him, the sound of your footsteps falling off as you stop in front of him. You grab his hand as the other one moves up to his face, cupping it.
“Adam…” you rubbed circles on his hand as you continued “We’re partners. You haven’t forgotten my promise right?” You play with the golden ring on his finger.
Adam groans “No, I haven’t… sigh Shit- Fine! But… just stay by me, alright?” Your face lights up before your arms wrap around his shoulders joining you both in an embrace
“Of course,” you rub his wings gently before you grasp his hands in yours, leading him by them. “Come on, you must be tired right? It’s getting late. Couch or bed?”
“Couch. I’m way not in the mood to make a bed right now.” You laugh at his comment as you pull him to lay on the couch with you. His soft, warm body pushes up against you as you both slowly drift off to sleep for the day ahead.
-
A not-too familiar sight laid before you, the pearly gates of heaven, guarded by the one and only Saint Peter. There was no real reason for you to ever come here. You never had the chance to die, which is when most, if not all Winners see it for the first time. No one’s allowed to leave heaven unless given permission by a higher up and on top of all that, you weren’t really that enticed to leave the oh-so perfect afterlife, so there had never been a reason to see these golden gates.
But now, here you were standing behind them with some other angels. You didn’t know most of them, the only ones you recognized were Sera and Adam. As expected, it was pretty easy to convince Sera to let Adam take you along. They even prepared an extra wide seat for both of you to share. How generous!
Ever since you woke up this morning, Adam had been… Nervous? Scared? The right word doesn’t really matter but he’s been sweating buckets and was clearly more agitated than normal. His feathers were once again unkempt and you tried your best to keep them in order but he always seemed to get them messy.
Eventually, right on schedule, a flaming portal opened in front of the group. Sera was the first to enter, then followed by the others. Finally it was just you and Adam but as you take a step towards the portal, Adam stops you
“What is it?” You look up at him.
“Just… stay by me, ok?” Adam’s voiced was softer than normal, a way he only did when you two were alone
Nodding your head with a smile, your hand comes down and interlocks his. One of his bright golden wings veils itself around you, bringing you closer to him. You snuggle into him slightly before you both step into the portal.
You didn’t know what to expect when you stepped through the portal but a sight that was almost like home awaited you. The familiar gold that heaven was so fond of was everywhere in the building, accents of white and orange were also present. All and all, it was a familiar sight in a not-so familiar place.
But there was definitely something that wasn’t familiar in that place. Sitting in a chair at the end of the room was him, Lucifer Morningstar. The aura he had definitely made him seem angelic but there was clearly something about him that separated himself from divinity. Though you do have to admit that he was much shorter than you anticipated.
There was something that surprised you however, to his left sat a tall woman with long blond hair and horns. It took you a second to put 2&2 together but when you heard Adam mutter “Shit…” you knew immediately it was Lilith. And from Adam’s reaction even he wasn’t expecting her to be there.
You squeeze his hand gently as comfort, giving him a smile before you both walk to your seat. Your body is pushed closer to him as his wing wraps tighter around you. Looks like there’s no calming him down.
Finally the meeting starts, Sera begins by explaining the issue of the fast growing population in hell, leading to groups trying to form uprisings against heaven. To be honest you didn’t really understand it too well, just a lot of business-y sounding words that weren't really your forte. So you just stayed quiet.
From what you could tell, the meeting was going… well? They haven’t been able to agree on a proper decision even with Sera leading the conversation. Adam though, was being eerily quiet. You don't even think he’s said a word since you both got there. Sera seemed to notice this.
“Adam, want to share any ideas?” Sera spoke in an encouraging tone slightly gesturing to him. This seemed to catch Lucifer and Lilith’s attention. Maybe they didn’t recognize Adam because of the mask?
Adam was caught off guard but still talked “Oh uh… Man, I don’t know, can’t we just fucking kill them?” Both you and Sera looked over in surprise, “What? That would solve the problem wouldn't it? “ He shrugged
Sera sighed “Ok, how about we take a short recess to clear our minds to let in new ideas. We’ll resume the meeting in 30 minutes”
With that, everyone went their separate ways for the time being, you and Adam were the first to leave the board room, he practically was pulling you along and you could tell he wanted out of there. You both ended up in the lobby, neither of you saying a word.
The silence was so very loud. The only sound was yours and Adam’s breathing. Adam’s hand was still firmly tied to yours, not even the slightest hint of letting go. You rubbed your thumb in circles over his hand when a voice echoed through the air
“Adam, may I have a word?” Sera’s voice echoed lightly through the lobby. She gestured to a door next to her. You both made your way over to her and was about to go in when Sera put her hand in front of Adam stopping him
“What the hell Sera?!”
“Alone, please.”
Adam’s LED eyes widened his mouth slightly agape. He looked down with a scowl before turning his face to you. Your free hand going up to his mask, caressing it.
“Go talk with Sera,”
“But-“
“Shh, I’ll be fine,” You give him a kiss on the cheek, the cold of the metallic mask reaching your lips, “I’ll just be in the lobby, I won’t go anywhere till you get back. Ok?” Adam didn’t look at you, clearly avoiding eye contact, you grab his chin lightly and gently turn him to look at you,
“Ok?”
Adam’s mouth formed a frown and he groaned “Fuck- fine, ok…” You gave him a smile as Sera walked into the room, you felt his grip loosen and loosen, until finally his soft hand left yours as he walked into the room. He gave one final look back before closing the room's door.
Silence filled the air once again. It wasn’t like it was with Adam, that comfortable silence that you shared ever so often. This one laid in the air, thick and heavy, threatening to suffocate you at any given moment. You sat on one of the many yellow and white sofas in the lobby.
You tried your best to ignore it. Paying attention to less important details about the scenery around you. The weird zigzagging pattern of the carpet of the floor, the intricate designs on the doors, the huge windows. Heaven sure had a unique taste in interior design.
You tried so hard to ignore the silence that you eventually ignored the sound that broke said silence. Footsteps began echoing through the lobby approaching you. You didn’t realize someone was next to you until you heard a voice say.
“Ahem Hello!” A male voice startled you as it chimed in with a sickening sweet tone. You look towards the direction of the voice only to be greeted by the king of hell himself, Lucifer. You jumped back to the other side of the sofa in shock.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya.” He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Lucifer, But judging on your reaction, I guess you already knew that. I’ve never seen you before so you must be relatively new, right?”
You nodded your head sheepishly to answer his question. You honestly didn’t know what else to do, what could you do? You slowly picked yourself up from the sofa.
“I’m sorry but I have to go-“ you turn to leave only to bump into a tall woman. You must have been so surprised by Lucifer that you completely missed Lilith coming up behind you.
“But we haven’t even learned your name yet, Dear.” The woman’s voice sounded both somber but also welcoming, it was quite frightening how much it could calm your nerves if you kept listening to it. “How about we talk? No harm in it, right?”
“That’s a wonderful idea, Darling!” Lucifer came up from behind you, a sharp smile on his face. “Come on, sit and chat!”
Crap… they had you cornered. You had no telling what they’d do if you set them off, you wanted the meeting to go as smoothly as possible, for Adam. A few minutes to indulge them. that’s it.
You bit your lip but sighed “Ok… but just a few minutes”
“Great!” Lilith took your shoulders moving you to sit down beside her as Lucifer sat on the other side, sandwiching you between them. “So, I’ll ask again, what’s your name?”
You hesitated for a moment but decided it was better to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.
“Y/n”
“That’s a very beautiful name,” Lucifer spoke, his tone trying to make him sound almost charming, almost. “So, if you don’t mind us asking, who are you to… Adam?” He gestured over to the door Sera and Adam went through earlier.
“I’m his spouse.” This time you answered with complete confidence, not even a shred of hesitation in your voice.
“Ah!” Lucifer nodded his head in understanding. “How’s that going?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I for one know how much of a hassle that man-child is,” Lilith laughs, covering her mouth slightly “I asked around, is it true he hasn’t taken that ridiculous mask off since he got it, hmm? Has he even shown you his real face yet?”
“No but-“
“He can be so… tiresome at times, don’t you agree?”
“No. I don’t. Adam is the best thing to ever happen to me-“
“Exactly.” Lucifer interrupted you as your eyes furrowed “You don’t have anything else to compare it to. Of course you’d see trash like the “first man” as the best thing ever.”
Trash. That word really set you off, at least it would have, if it wasn’t for the next sentence .
“But hey! It’s fine! Eve was the same way! You too are honestly very alike, let me tell you-“
Thousands upon thousands of thin threads binding you up. That’s what this conversation felt like. Each annoyance was just a new thread getting tighter and tighter as they were pulled taut, threatening to simply slice through your body, your soul. But they didn’t, instead they kept stretching past their limits until finally those words came.
Like… Eve. It felt like each of those tightly pulled threads were all cut at once with those words. Any and all tension suddenly seemed to disappear. A strange sensation of losing any care about your situation.
You know what? To hell with the meeting! You quickly stood up from the sofa causing them both to jump slightly. You turned toward them, your voice was louder than you thought was possible for you. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you but you felt so… Angry.
“I am nothing like Eve. And I’m especially nothing like either of you.” You had enough, it was untelling what would happen if you stayed. You started walking toward the room Adam was in when Lucifer grabbed your arm
“Wait! That’s not what I meant-“
“Don’t touch me, snake” you stared daggers at him before quickly grabbing his hand and shoving it off.
“We’re sorry if we upset you Dear, but that’s no way to talk to someone” Lilith walks up to you, putting an arm in front of Lucifer in a protective stance.
You walk up to the tall woman, she was at least two heads taller than you but still, you barred your teeth before speaking “Oh! You really think I care about what the first whore thinks of me, Huh?” Your voice dripped with poison from every word.
Even Lilith seemed caught off guard by your sudden change in demeanor as her face turned into a scowl. Red horns protruded through Lucifer’s head, his eyes turning red with anger. You turn your attention back to him.
“What are you gonna do?” Lucifer’s gaze slightly softened with hesitation “Exactly, nothing. Less’ you want to dig yourself deeper into this cyst pool you’ve created for yourself and end up on even worse terms with heaven.”
Without even sparing them a glance, you try to make it to the room, only to be greeted by Adam and Sera standing by the door. How long were they standing there? You must have not heard them over your screaming..
“What the fuck are you assholes doing to them? ” You rush over and grab him by the hand, the action startling him “Babe, what happened-“
“Nothing. Sera. Open a portal back home.”
“But-“
“Sera!” Your voice was gritty and rough “open a portal. Now... Please…” your voice cracked at the end
Sera had never seen you show so much anger before, but here you were, your entire gaze filled with nothing but pure unadulterated wrath.Threatening to burn anyone who got in your way. Whatever happened clearly set you off like nothing else before.
Sera nods her head “Understood”
“Thank you…”
A familiar flaming portal opened up, you quickly made your way through it with Adam following suit. The portal ended up right inside your home, closing as you both were fully through. You honestly didn’t know where you were going but eventually your body couldn’t go any further than the couch
Feeling the soft couch beneath you made your aching muscles feel like they were melting away, and only then did you realize that you were crying.
Adam crawled next to you, hugging close to you. “What the happened out there, Babe?”
You felt your body slowly break down, as more tears left you then you had cried your entire existence. Adam hugged you tighter, his wings coming over you like a blanket.
“H-How much did you see?” Your voice was shaky as you sniffed slightly.
“Not a lot, just some shit towards the end,what did those bastards say to you?”
You cleared your throat slightly. “I only talked to them because I didn’t want them to get upset and ruin the meeting and make your day even worse than it already was”
Adam’s LED mask shifted into a small sad frown “Sweetheart, you never have to talk to any motherfuckers you don’t want to, let alone for me. “
You smile but look away “it wasn’t… it wasn’t…” you tried to get the words out but couldn’t. You took a deep breath before trying one more time,”It wasn’t the only thing that set me off.” Adam looks at you curious
“They said that I reminded them of… Eve, and it just made me so… angry. I was created for you, to love you-“ your tears start swelling back up as you spoke “I want to be so much better than Eve, than Lilith for you. And then she pointed out how I’ve never seen Your face, which I’ve always been fine with, but at that moment, I started to think ‘what if they’re right?’ What if the reason you don’t want me to see you is because I also remind you of Eve”
You choked back tears “So to be compared to her when I’ve tried so hard… if I’m not better than her for you, then what is even the point of me! I was created to make you happy, if I can’t do that better than someone who hurt you so bad then I’m just useless-“
Soft lips met yours, cutting you off. This felt different than what you normally got on the cheek. It was warm compared to the cold metallic feel you’ve felt previously. Your eyes opened slightly looking at Adam’s LED mask… or what you thought was going to be a mask. He had pulled his mask off while you were crying.
You pulled back from the kiss “Adam your mask!” Adam just kisses back again
“That fucking thing doesn’t matter right now.” He paused “You're not useless and will never be useless to me. Fuck- I love you because I love you! Not because you were created for me or some stupid shit like that! You make me so fucking happy. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were just some object that was made to make me feel better, because you aren’t.”
“Adam…” to think tears could roll down your face this harder than before “I love you so much Adam” you cry into his soft chest.
Adam kisses you again “I love you too Sweetcheeks.” Adam paused before clearing his throat “So umm… how do I look? I hope I didn't disappoint you…”
You look up at his newly unveiled face, just as you had been told, short brown hair, golden eyes, and a little bit of stubble on his chin. By all accounts, he was completely ordinary. So ordinarily perfect.
“Perfect. So so perfect. What’d I do to end up with such a handsome husband, hmm?”
“Oh stop, now you’re just being fucking cheesy” he laughs, he would never admit it but his eyes were a little watery just from hearing you say that.
“It’s true though” you lean in and wrap your arms around him, killing you both with a deep kiss.
Truly ordinary. You couldn’t be happier
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rockettothestars222 · 3 months
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Mama’s Boy
Summary : During a bonding activity at the hotel, parents get brought up. Everyone seemed okay with talking a little about their parentage, but Alastor was off put by the topic. He didn’t think anyone would notice the way his smile strained, or that anyone would care when he slipped away, but you did. You cared. And you wanted to help him, even if he didn’t want to accept it.
Tags : GenderNeutral!reader, reader is shorter than Al, soft!Alastor, sorta, fluff, hurt/comfort, Alastor misses his mom, Alastor needs a hug, Alastor is losing it
Notes : Lots of people seemed to enjoy my interpretation of soft Alastor in my last oneshot, so here’s another one! I heart Alastor sm. Enjoy!
Word Count : 2.3k
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“Well you know! When your dad is the king of Hell, it complicates things sometimes, and with as long as my mom has been gone—” Charlie’s voice grows distant as you lose focus. It’s not that you don’t care, you’ve all just been talking about your parents for a good hour and a half. It started with a bonding exercise Charlie had decided would be fun. It started with talking about who people who meant a lot to you, and when Husk mentioned his father, everyone began to add on.
You looked around at everyone’s faces, and everyone seemed content with the conversation. Charlie was droning on about her familial issues, Angel had talked about his mother beforehand, and even Pentious mentioned some fond memories of his parents. But Alastor had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole experience.
Your gaze finally falls on The Radio Demon himself, an uncomfortable and awkward posture taking its hold on him. He was standing straighter than usual, his grin that was as consistent as he was creepy was now fairly strained, as his eyes darted, trying to look at anything but the company he surrounded himself with. Your brows furrowed as you stared, though you tried to make it not so obvious. His shoulders sunk for a moment as you watched him suck in a breath, readjusting to his normal position and finally breaking his silence.
“You’ll all have to excuse me for a moment, I have some business to attend to!” His preppy voice cut through Charlie’s dialogue as the focus in the room catches on him. His eyes finally find someone to land on. You! Oh, he’s looking at you. You blink as his gaze narrows, turning on his heels as the rest of the room murmurs goodbyes. Your eyes followed his path, watching him disappear further into the hotel.
“I didn’t think we had anything else on the agenda today,” Vaggie glances to her girlfriend, looking for some sort of explanation for the overlord’s odd behavior. You cast a glance Charlie’s way as well, curious, but you were met with a shrug and an absentminded smile.
“Must be personal errands or something! We can keep going with the activity,” she motions to you with her hand, encouraging you to speak about your own experiences. Your lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes drifted back to the spot where Alastor had once stood. You had an itching sensation in your brain that you had a hunch wouldn’t fade unless you figured out what was going on.
You and Alastor were close, to some extent. He spoke to you more openly than any of the others at the hotel. And you were the same with him. But one thing he would never talk about was his life before Hell. It was a mystery. Like a locked vault that’s code was long gone. But you longed to grow closer to him. You’d be lying if you said your feelings toward the demon hadn’t begun to bubble into something more, but now wasn’t the time to process that. You had more interesting things to think about.
After a long beat of silence, you stood up.
“Sorry Charlie, but I gotta use the bathroom, I’ll be back in a bit!” You assure with a toothy grin and a thumbs up. The princess could only giggle, nodding at you and ushering to go take care of your ‘business.’
You hurried off in the direction Alastor had gone, going through a list of places he’d likely be in your head. Kitchen? No, he’d gone the opposite direction. Radio tower? He only went up there to broadcast. Library? Hotel doesn’t have one of those. You frowned. He’d like one though, you were sure of it.
His room.
It was the only other logical place to check in the hotel. You picked up your pace, his room was on one of the higher floors of the hotel. Finally reaching the elevator, you hesitate. Alastor wasn’t a vulnerable person. If something was wrong, would he tell you? You pressed the button for the elevator, despite doubt eating at the inside of your stomach. Stepping onto the dinky machine, you pressed the button for the floor you needed, taking a breath in and out. You needed to know what was going on with him.
The elevator hummed to life as it hoisted you upwards, an awkward silence falling over you, despite there being no one else in the machine. It dinged as you hit your desired floor, and you sighed, happy to be off of the unreliable thing. You continued your journey to The Radio Demon’s room, you face beginning to sour as you realized how unrealistic you were being. Al would never admit to you what was wrong. You knew that. Why were you trying?
As you reached his door, you stared up at it. A deer skull was etched into the red wood, a golden knob flourishing in the flickering lights of the hotel. You couldn’t give up on him. You’d gone through a lot to try and get close with Alastor. You couldn’t throw that effort away because of doubt. How idiotic would that be?
Without much thought, you placed your hand on that beautiful golden knob, slowly turning it, trying to be as quiet as possible. The door slowly swung open, not so much as a creak coming from its hinges. You made a mental note to ask him how he got his door to be so quiet when all this was over, gently closing the door behind you. Sat on his bed, hunched over and face in his hands was The Radio Demon himself. Your eyes scanned the room as you tried your absolute best to not loudly question how he had a SWAMP in his room. Now wasn’t the time.
You walked into his room, approaching the deer-like demon in silence. You could hear muffled sniffles from under his hands, and he seemed far too lost in his own thoughts to pay your presence any mind. You, with slight hesitation, placed your hand on his shoulder. His body stiffened as his fingers parted slightly, his red eyes peering up at you through his lashes.
“Alastor, are you—”
A black tendril wrapping around your arm and pushing you back put a hold on your sentence. You stumbled backwards, barely catching yourself as you looked Alastor. He stood up, fast, tear stains brandishing his cheeks as his smile, that was somehow still there, strained into what was the closest thing to frowning he may be capable of. His neck bent wildly, his body growing larger in size as his eyes turned a shadowy black.
“GET OUT.” His voice was crackled with radio static, his teeth glued shut as his spoke through them like he was, well, a radio.
You’d never wanted to run away more than in that moment. This had gotten intense VERY quickly, and it was a bit frightening. But as your neck craned up and your eyes met his, and you’d never been met with such sadness.
“I can’t. Not until you talk to me, Alastor,” your words were firm, but your eyes were soft. Full of compassion. He shook his head, eyes squinting shut.
“You want me to talk to YOU? Why are you even trying to pretend to care?!” Alastor’s voice cracked as he slammed his fists onto the ground, the floor shuddering beneath him. You stepped closer, your eyes pleading silently that he’d hear you. Not just listen to your words, but comprehend them.
“I’m not trying to pretend anything. But I could tell you were upset earlier, and it’s obvious that you are now! I just want to be here for you! I want to understand!” Your voice rose in volume as you stood your ground, not faltering even this slightest bit. An almost animalistic growl left The Radio Demon’s throat as he moved closer to you.
“You truly want me to believe you’d ‘understand?!’ My mother was the ONLY person I had when I was alive, she was the only one that was there for me! The only one I’d ever DARE let myself be vulnerable around because she would NEVER hurt me,” Alastor’s hands clutched his head, his fingers tangling in his hair as his eye twitched. You listened with a solace look upon your face, narrowing your eyes at him with pity creasing your brow. “And NOW look at me. A demon. A MONSTER. I’ve ended countless lives, she was a saint among the living, and I am a HELLSPAWN. What would,” he collapsed to his knees, arms falling limp to his sides as he returned to his natural form, his voice falling quiet. “What would she think of me now? Her precious pride and joy. A murderer. She would be disgusted by me. Does it even matter? I’ll never see her again. She died long before I did. And now I’m here. Alone.”
Silence fell over the room as Alastor’s chest heaved, tears streaking his face once again. You waiting a moment before approaching him, kneeling down in front of the taller man. You gently, somewhat hesitantly, took his cheek in your hand, tilting his head to make him look at you. Your eyes scanned his face, eyeing that never ending smile. Your lips tugged upward as your thumb caressed his cheek, making a moment of contact with the corner of his lips.
“I bet your mom misses that smile,” his ears pinned down to the sides of his head, Alastor’s trembling hand covered your own, his smile tugging tighter as he leaned into your touch. “You’re not alone, Alastor.”
He fell into you, and your eyes widened in surprise. His head buried in the crook of your neck, you could feel his tears coating your skin and shirt. His arms wrapped around your torso, his claws were surprisingly gentle. Almost like he was being cautious. You moved from your knees to your butt with a quiet thump, pulling his body closer to yours. One of your arms wrapped tightly around the lower half of his torso, the other around his shoulders, your hand combing through his soft hair.
Alastor’s face was warm against your skin, you could hear every sniffle, feel every shudder as soft sobs wracked his body. Sometimes, being in Hell made you forget, every person you met down here was once innocent. They were once alive, vulnerable, and just someone trying to find their place in the world. Big bad overlords like the on you were cradling in your arms were once human. They all were someone’s pride and joy, someone’s baby, someone’s entire reason to keep living. Despite what they’d become, they once were soft and pure, nothing is born evil. And times like this made you remember that.
After a good few minutes of The Radio Demon crying into your shoulder, he’d finally calmed, now just sitting in that same position, holding you close, a small sniffle every once in a while. You’d been lulling soft words into his ear, your best attempt to relax him. Slowly, Alastor picked his head up, straightening himself to sit sort-of-in-front-of-you, your legs were a little tangled due to the way you’d both been sitting for the past while. He looked into your eyes, his hands were gently fiddling with the fabric of your shirt as he averted his gaze.
“This was. A relieving experience,” he admits, his smile small but seemingly genuine. His face was tear stained, there were light bags under his eyes, but all and all, he seemed a lot lighter.
“Good. That’s,, that’s good. I’m glad,” you gave a lopsided grin, moving your hands to caress his arms. “Seemed like you might’ve needed that.”
“I suppose I did,” he returned the motion, his hands falling to your hips, though loosely.
This was the most physically affectionate you’d ever seen Alastor. He, generally speaking, didn’t like much contact. The most people would get from him is a simple handshake or pinch of the cheek, maybe an arm around the shoulder, but it was almost always in a condescending way. But this was very different. It was softer, more intimate. You felt almost privileged to see this side of him.
“I meant what I said,” you break the string of comfortable silence. Alastor tilted his head, expecting some elaboration. “About wanting to be here for you. Whenever you need it, I’m always there.”
“I know you did, my dear. I would like to. Hm,” a pause. “I’m sorry. For snapping at you. It’s hard to be open when we are quite literally in Hell. I should’ve known better than to think you’d ever try to use this against me. You’d never do that, would you?” His grip on your hips tightened slightly. A warning. But also, a plead.
“Of course not, I’d never even think of it,” you gave his arms a reassuring squeeze, and his grip on you loosened. You could only smile, pulling yourself closer to him and placing your forehead against his. Alastor rolled his eyes though when they fell back to you, his whole expression softened. This was a tender moment, and wasn’t one that you’d likely ever get again.
You admired him for a short moment, allowing silly thoughts of romance and companionship dance in your head. Alastor, The Radio Demon, with a lowlife sinner like you? It would be unprecedented. And yet, you couldn’t help but let the softness of this moment cloud your judgement. You leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth Alastor tensed. As you pulled away, you could see a very obvious blush across his face.
“Sorry,” you murmur with a smile, pulling away completely, withdrawing all contact. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”
Before he could reply, you gave a gentle pat on his head, and then walked out of his room. The overlord could only blink, watching you disappear. His heart fluttered with excited jitters as he stood, dusting himself off. He may just have to come to you with his issues more often.
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kissohee · 6 months
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virgin!anton x virgin!fem!reader ☆ nsfw ; wc : 2k+ ☆ one-shot mdni! synopsis; after being together for so long, you would think you've already done everything in the books, but there's only one you haven't done yet. and that's sex. warnings; anton is bigger than reader, extremely lighthearted, mentions of masturbation, anton is big, dry humping, protected sex, they cum quickly
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"You've got to see this video," Anton barges into your room, throwing his bag on your floor, "It's seriously the cutest thing ever." You look up at him from where you were sitting on your bed, moving your laptop off your lap and onto your desk next to you. "What is it?" "Cats. Two of them." He hands you his phone, kicking off his shoes to get comfortable, "I won't spoil it."
When you started dating Anton around a year ago, you knew his love and affection also came with cute animal videos. He sees a cute animal, he sends it right to you. Might even add a text saying "Us" or "You" but he's never saved them to show you in person. You watch the video nonetheless, it being a video about a cat who fell in love with another cat, even having kittens, and the rest of the video is just cute clips of them two. "It's us." Anton looks at you with a cheesy smile when you hand him his phone back. "It's very cute but, 'Ton..." You tilt your head, "You came here to show me a video of cats?" Anton didn't exactly live close by to where you did, so it was very rare when he came over. "Well," His head sinks into his shoulders, "I wanted an excuse to see you." You pull the blanket off of you and open your arms for him to accept your hug. Despite his big figure, he wraps his arms around your waist and lays on top of you. "You never need an excuse to see me, you know that.." He digs his head into your chest, and you bring a hand up to run fingers through his hair. "You missed me?" "Mmhmm.." He nods gently to not disturb your hand and he looks up at you. "I missed you too." Is all you're able to say before Anton lifts himself up to kiss you. You instantly reciprocate the kiss and hold his face in your hands.
Despite being together for so long, all you and Anton have ever done was make out. And even though each make out gets progressively more and more desperate and needy, you guys never put too much thought into having sex. It came up only a few times, and one was because because you guys were watching a movie that had a sex scene. You were holding Anton in your arms and he quietly mentioned it. "Do you think we'll ever have sex?" Anton was never the type to openly talk about things he wanted, so the fact that he said even something as simple as that shocked you. "Do you want to?" You always believed that it would happen when it happens, and you knew he felt the same way. "Not right now.." His eyes glued on the movie, "But eventually." The second time it came up was when he got his first boner with you. It happened during your first heated make out session. It was the first time he ever made you moan, and that was when he was leaving hickeys all around your neck and chest. You had felt him grow under you, nervous that if you brought it up you'd scare him. "Anton..?" He paused his actions and when he finally caught up with his dick he lightly pushed you off of him, covering it with his hands. "Oh my god," You heard panic in his voice, "I'm so sorry." His reaction made you hold back a laugh, "Why are you sorry?" His cheeks flushed "I don't know... It's.." He found himself having trouble forming sentences, "That's so gross of me, I don't know why it.." "You're a male human," You rest your head on his shoulder, "I don't think it's gross... It happens." You both sat there in silence, and when Anton realized it wasn't going down any time soon, he excused himself to go to your bathroom and jack off. He felt so embarrassed by it that he refused to see you for an entire week. And it wasn't until you promised him that you weren't repulsed by him, that he started to see you again. That day never came up again, and Anton was very cautious about making out ever since.
But right now he was too busy focusing on the way your mouth feels on his, his mind full of just you. He sits up to be more comfortable and stops kissing you when he can't, "Can we switch places.? I don't want to sit on you and crush you." He lightly jokes, making you giggle. "I don't mind if you crush me, goliath." He rolls his eyes at the teasing nickname and moves hair on your face behind your ear. "I like it better when you're sitting on me though," He says through a pout, and you find it too cute to say no to. It's your turn to roll your eyes and he wipes a little bit of saliva off your bottom lip before getting off of you. He hooks your legs around his waist, allowing your chest to press against his as you kiss him again. "Better?" You run your fingers through his hair while going back to kissing him. "Mmm.. Much better." He replies, softly moaning when you bite his lip, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth. When you tug on the bottom of his shirt, he immedeatly takes it off. Sure, you've seen Anton without his shirt before, he is a swimmer after all. But it has never been in the contents of the bedroom, which made even something as small as that make your stomach turn. You decide to lift your shirt off of you, making Anton stare at the way your breasts sit in your bra. He grabs the back of them, about to unclasp them before looking at you, "Can I take this off?" You nod and watch as your bra falls on the bed, finally feeling the cold air. Anton's eyes study every part of your breasts, "Can I touch them?" "Please.." This was your first time ever being exposed like this in front of someone, but you trusted Anton a lot so slowly the nervousness left your body. His fingers make contact with your skin, softly squeezing them, looking up at you with a small smile. When he drags his fingers along your sensitive nipple, you let out a soft moan, making him do it again. The sounds you were making going straight to his cock, causing him to rub upwards. The feeling of his clothed cock against your clothed pussy making you both moan. You continue to grind down on him, matching the speed of his hands working your breasts until he stops, "I-.. I'm gon' cum in my pants if we continue.." Neither of you want to stop, and the air in the room is noticeably different. "What do you want to do?" "I want," He pauses, thinking about what to say, "I need to be inside of you."
You know you're ready, you know you both are. You just wished you guys talked it out beforehand, cause you sadly don't have condoms just laying around. " 'Ton.. I don't have any.. you know." "Hold on," He softly lifted you off of him and grabbed his bag on the floor. After rummaging around it for a minute, he pulled out a box of condoms. He took one out and when went back to you, he realized you were looking at him suspiciously. "What?" "You just... carry condoms around?" You try to hold back a laugh at the thought of Anton casually walking around like that. "Just in case," He says shyly, "For moments like these." He takes the condom out and when he hooks his finger under the waiste band of his pants, he hesitates, "Look away." "Look away?" You raise an eyebrow at him, "No, I am absolutely looking." "Fine." He sighs defeatedly, "But don't say anything." When he removes his pants, his bulge looks bigger under his boxers. You watch as he removes the last piece of clothing, his cock hitting his stomach and your heart sinks. He's big. Like really big. Bigger than you thought, and this was a problem considering you're a virgin too. There was no way he was fitting. There's pre cum leaking from his tip, and your first instinct is to use your finger to wipe it off. He reacts almost immedeatly, squeezing his eyes at the feeling. You remove your pajama pants, showing the cute lace panties you had on. It just so happened to be a coincidence that you were wearing one of your nice panties, taking that as the final sign that this was supposed to happen. "Can I-?" Is all he says before you grab his hands and lead them to you. He hooks a finger around your panties before slowly pulling them down, revealing your dripping pussy. Anton moves his finger through your folds, playing with your arousal on his fingers, "You're so wet.." "Anton.... please." Beg filling your eyes and he softly kisses you before he moves his attention back on the condom he didn't put on, taking it and placing it on his cock. He lifts himself over you, one hand on your waist, the other busy aligning himself with your cunt. You feel his tip enter you slowly, "Is that okay?" You nod, grabbing his hand when you feel him push in just a little more. His fingers interlock with yours, squeezing them when he enters you fully. A whimper escaping his lips from how tight you feel around him. "Fuck..'Ton... You're huge.." You moan from the feeling of you being full, you were surprised he fit, though you give all props to your wetness. Your comment making his face flush full red, he honestly never put much thought into his size. He rests his head on your shoulder, afraid to move in case it hurts you. When you've gotten used to the feeling of him inside you, you caress his hand with your thumb, "You can move." "Fuck," Is all he can muster out when he thrusts into you. The way you feel around him makes him feel like he's on cloud 9. His cock reaching places inside of you that you didn't even know could be reached. Biting your lip, you squeeze his hand the same way he did earlier when he thrusts in a slightly faster pace. Anton's eyes were glued to the way your breasts bounced with each time he entered inside of you, "Y-you're so beautiful.. all of you.."
You wrap your arms around him so he's close enough for you to be able to kiss him. His soft voice louder now that he was closer, making you able to hear him clearly. From the way Anton's moans were coming out, you could tell he was getting closer and closer to release. So you let go of his hand to bring it between you guys, rubbing your clit to the pace of Anton's thrusts. When sees, he replaces your hand with his. His thumb moving in circles with applied pressure. You felt a knot grow in your stomach, moving your hips up to match his causing him to even deeper. "I-I'm gon- cum.." "We'll cu-cum together, o-okay?" He suggests and you nod. You feel Anton's thrusts become sporadic, and you can tell he's struggling to keep up with the pace. "Cum." You feel intense pleasure grow before you reach your orgasm, moaning out his name as loud as you can. He cums too, and you can tell by the way his hips twitch against you, small "I love you, I love you so much," coming from his lips. You both lay there, catching your breaths as you give him a hug with as much energy that is left in your body. He finally pulls out, removing the condom and he looks it before looking at you and softly laughs. "Can't believe we just did that." "It hurt like a bitch at first," You reciprocate the laugh and you see concern enter his face. "Oh it does, right.." He kisses your forehead, "I'm sorry princess. We will have to work on the size difference, huh?" "I think we already did," You caress his cheek softly before patting him on the back, "Buckle up baby, we are doing that again."
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antons been on my mind recently.. did NOT mean to make this as long as it ended up being.. - 🐠
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rukunas · 1 year
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angsty?? deku sucks here (sorry don’t kill me)
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“So?” His hands clasp together, steepled in anticipation. “What did that extra get you? Flowers? Chocolates?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on.” Dynamight smirks. “I need to know so I can get my girl something better.”
You scoff as you place the bouquet of fresh red roses in a vase on his desk, courtesy of his new model girlfriend. The note, marked with a perfect lipstick stain, taunts you. “Is it a competition?”
“When it’s with Deku?” Dynamight flashes his canines. “Yes.”
“You’ll win either way. I wasn’t lying. He didn’t get me anything.” You do your best to keep the vitriol out of your voice, but there’s still a sharpness hidden in your tone.
Bakugo catches it, smile disappearing and his brows pinching together in an uncharacteristic concerned frown. “Oh… That case from the Commission is probably kicking his ass right now.”
“Yeah.” You shrug stiffly. “Enjoy the flowers.”
You feel like a bitch. Dynamight is right— you’ve seen how much Izuku has been working, spending late nights at his office, traveling abroad, meeting with some big officials in the government. You even told him to not worry for Valentine’s Day.
So, why were you mad? You had no right. And yet, you thought…
Buzz.
Your phone: Sorry baby, will make it back late 2nite :(( Don’t wait up on me
Well. It didn’t matter what you thought.
The day seems everlasting, annoyingly so. You would know— having to watch each of your coworkers get their own little presents and cards throughout the day. It would be just as bad if you went home and swiped through your phone all day, watching couple after couple post about their date plans. Fuck it, you’ll just stay back in the office and work ahead, it’s not like you have anything else to do.
“The fuck are you still doing here?” A gruff voice echoes from the hall.
“Why are you here?” You shot back, eyeing the hero who leans against your door frame. You recall when you first started working for Bakugo as his assistant, nervous to even look at him in the eye. Now, you openly glare at him. “Your date is at 8. It was hard as hell to get that reservation, you better not waste it.”
“She’s busy, said it in the note. Where’s your date?”
“He’s busy.”
He hums lowly before looking away, staring at the clutter on your desk. Precious hero figurines that you’ve been collecting for years are propped up in poses, along with a picture of you and Izuku. It was from so long ago, you barely remember the memory.
“Would you—” He starts.
“Can I—”
Silence takes over as the two of you interrupt one another.
“Sorry. You go.” You gesture at him to continue.
“Come with me. For dinner.”
“Me?”
Maybe it’s an illusion, but you swear the tips of his ear go pink. “You said it yourself. I can’t miss that reservation. And you said you don’t have plans…”
“Okay.”
“Seriously?” He sounds surprised. It makes your lips curl upward, followed by a breathless laugh.
“Why would I say no to free dinner?”
“I never said I was paying.”
“Oh, shut up, Katsuki.” It was not an illusion, you conclude, watching as his cheeks turn the same color pink as his ears. It takes you a moment to realize you said his given name.
“Alright. I’ll start the car.” He turns to walk out. “Check your desk before you go.”
“Huh?” Too late— he’s disappeared around the corridor.
Suspiciously, you scan your desk. Maybe he left some form that needed your signature? A PR proposal? But nothing seems to be out of order…
Wait. You pause, breath catching as you find the one thing that definitely was not there before. The Limited Edition All-Might Golden Figurine—the figure that was one of the ten ever made, and one that you’ve always dreamt of getting your hands on— stands boldly at your desk. You don’t know how you missed it, not knowing when it was placed there. You feel warmth bloom at your chest, knowing the one person who’d given it to you.
With hands still shaking in excitement and awe, you send out a text: I love you and I love the gift! Thanks baby!!
You find yourself grinning from ear to ear as you pack your things into your bag and put on your jacket. As you do so, your phone buzzes. A happy sigh flutters from your lips as you rummage through your purse to grab it. You knew he’d get you something! He wouldn’t have forgotten Valentine’s Day! And he’s gotten you the best gift you have ever gotten—
?? What gift?
You roll your eyes at his faux cluelessness, moving to take a picture of the figurine. But, as you do, you catch the note stuck to the bottom of it.
The handwriting isn’t Izuku’s. Though, you recognize it immediately.
Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope I won.
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clockwayswrites · 7 months
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Danny & Constantine, Orange, Butterscotch Ripple
@imbreonix Prompt fill set #4
It started out as a joke that turned into an actual event: Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It sounded absurd, of course it did. The Justice League was hardly work and certainly not a social club, but once it had been said people started to actually think about it. More and more of the heroes were taking on mentorship rolls for the next generation. While the heroes, of course, tried their best to provide what their mentees needed, they were still grown, experienced heroes and their sidekicks were kids.
Kids who lived a life that most could never understand.
Eventually it have been talked about enough in passing and over rushed meals and before meetings that it ended up on the agenda.
“Robin believes it would be beneficial for the younger heroes to know others in the same positions as themselves,” Batman had explained, as if that answered anything. The Big Bat wouldn’t even clarify who Robin was.
But there they were, Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It actually was a pretty nice event with snacks, drinks, and several enthusiastic sidekicks. It turned out Robin was Batman’s sidekick.
“Partner,” Robin insisted boldly, whenever the term sidekick was used within his hear range (which was disturbingly good).
The kid was the very opposite of Batman: bright, personable, and always in motion. Flash was more than a little concerned how quickly Robin and Kid Flash seemed hit it off. “They’re plotting something.”
“Hn,” was Batman’s reply, though he was watching the two whispering sidekicks too.
All in all it was a cheerful success.
It made John’s skin crawl. He jiggled the unlit cigarette in his fingers. He didn’t do social events, not outside of bars, and he really, really didn’t want to be here.
“We can just go back to the House,” a small, nervous voice suggested hopefully from behind John.
That was the thing, though, he wasn’t here for his own sake.
“No, we can’t,” John said with a sigh.
“We really can, though. We haven’t even talked to anyone. I bet they haven’t even noticed we’re here—”
“John! I did not think you would be attending,” Wonder Woman said as she approached, a smile in place. A good chunk of the founding members trailed after her.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, well,” John said with a little shrug. He didn’t admonish the kid for cussing, he didn’t have a leg to stand on there, but by Superman’s puzzled face the Big Blue had clearly heard it. “Figured I had better bring the kid.”
“The kid?” Hal repeated incredulously.
John reminded himself he really shouldn’t punch his teammates.
“Yeah, the kid,” John said. He stepped aside to reveal Danny who had been hiding behind him. “Geist, Justice League, Justice League, Poltergeist.”
“Um, who, Constantine?” Flash asked, sounding nervous.
John looked to his right, which for all appearances, was an empty spot of air. “Seriously, kid?”
“Sorry,” Danny whispered.
“It’s okay, kid,” John said, holding back a sigh. The kid was sensitive to that sort of thing, so John had been trying. (He still messed up plenty, but he was trying.) John looked back the Justice Leaguers and shrugged. “Ghost. Visibility is like that sometimes.”
“Ah,” Diana said with a sage nod. John admired the woman for how nothing seemed to phase her. She simply looked to where John had been looking and smiled. “Hello, Poltergeist. Welcome to Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day.”
“Partner!” a kid dressed like a damn traffic light called from across the room where he was talking to who was clearly a mini Flash.
“Oh,” Danny said. (It was clearly weirding out some of the heroes to hear Danny but not see him.) “I’m not… John doesn’t let me help that much? I don’t know if I count as a sidekick.”
“That’s because last time you tagged along you went intangible and fell through a bridge, kid,” John grumbled and then immediately felt bad. “You know we’re working on it.”
“Yeah,” Danny mumbled.
John couldn’t see Danny, not any more than the others, but he could picture the way the kid would be scuffing his toe on the floor, head down as he rubbed at the back of his neck.
John sighed. “Ain’t your fault kid, powers take time to master.”
“Robin,” Batman called.
Immediately the tiny traffic light was literately bounding across the space to stand next to Batman. The kid smiled up at the Big Bat like the man had hung the moon.
“Yes, B?”
“This,” Batman said, nodding to the empty space, “is Poltergeist. He came with Constantine.”
“Oh,” Robin said. He spun to face the spot of air and held out his hand without hesitation. “Come, Kid Flash and I are— um,” Robin shot Batman a look, “talking. You can join us! I bet you will be really useful!”
Flash mouthed the word ‘useful’ with a terrified look on his face, but no one actually said anything while Robin just stood there, smiling, with his hand out. And then Robin’s grin impossibly widened, his hand closed around nothing, and he took off across the room.
“…anyone else worried about that?” John asked after a moment.
“So worried,” Flash said.
“Hn,” Batman added.
“Right then. I need a glass of shitty punch to spike,” John said and abandoned his teammates to find the refreshments. Thank the gods, the fuckers, for hip flasks.
-
“I live with a ghost now, Bats, you’ve got to up your skills if you want to sneak up on me anymore,” John said before taking another sip of his much improved punch.
Batman stepped up into the corner of John’s vision, which felt like such a Bat thing to do, so John felt the placement was very purposeful. John wouldn’t complain, it let him watch Batman without taking his his eyes off where Danny was sitting with Robin, Kid Flash, and Wonder Girl. Danny was pretty see through, but he was slowly becoming more visible the longer he spent in the company of the other teen heroes.
“How long have you had him?” Batman asked.
John snorted. “That’s what you go with? Not how it works to fuck a ghost?”
Hal and Aquaman weren’t as quiet as they thought they were, but maybe that was on purpose. Maybe they had wanted John to hear. He just hoped the kids hadn’t. He might not have a clean mouth, but even he had limits.
“He doesn’t have to be your blood to be your son,” Batman said in that certain way of his.
It had John finally glancing over at Batman. It was a lot to admit and John hated to be on uneven grounds. “How long have you had yours?”
No one would ever believe him, but John could swear that Batman almost smiled.
“Nearly five years.”
John hummed and took another sip of the punch. “Only six months, not even. And he’s not my son. Kid deserves better than me as a da.”
“They always deserve better,” Batman said, his voice a low rumble that John swore he could feel in his battered bones. “We just have to try to be better.”
“Yeah, well,” John said with a bitter chuckle. “I’m not you, Bats, I don’t think I have better in me.”
“Yes you do, you’re here, after all,” Batman pointed out.
John swallowed and looked back the kid, his kid. Danny was almost solid now. His white hair floated as he threw back his head in laughter at something Robin had said.
“Yeah… yeah I am.”
---
AN: So. So. This has gotten away from me. I blame Moku. So much blame. I can't promise I'll continue it but there is... there is a good bit of plotting TO continue it. It would be after I get done with City Pigeons Bleed Green though, as that's my current family feels fic.
If it gets continued we have a John/Bruce tired dads with issues slow burn fuck buddies to lovers, Danny and Dick being friends (and family), canon divergence, Tim joins the Bat family early, Bats with magic (and the world should fear them), and Alfred's judgemental eyebrow.
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dcxdpdabbles · 24 days
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Am going feral for Danny's grill, I'm salivating for another part, perhaps the batfams reactions to Tim's theory of Danny being fae and just "ohh oh that tracks, that tracks a little too well, but atleast he's a nice fae? Also I vainly remember Constantine drunkenly complaining about a pariah being a bitch king so maybe Danny is actually fae royalty which is why he can afford to be nice??"
Sry for rambling ♡
Tim's investigation updates are alarming, to put it nicely. Bruce can't say he's thrilled by how his son discovered a new Fae court or that his son is now untraceable within the said court.
He would think Tim was missing if it weren't for the reports he finds at family information locations. Thankfully, the fae seemed benevolent—at least for now.
Bruce would be the first to admit that he did not like how, out of all his kids, Tim always seemed to get involved with the oddest of missions.
Reading the Young Justice reports always gave him a headache- baseball game for the plant? Accidentally killed Santa Claus?!? - So, he not only figured out a Fae had appeared in Gotham but also ate the food the Fae offered him? Yeah, that was his Tim.
Bruce had picked up Tim's progress reports before anyone else. His other children were focused on a missing person case and their own cases.
Bruce figured that as long as Tim was treated right, he could spend time searching for a way to get his son home safely without worrying about the others. He has spoken with every member of the Justice League Dark, interviewed any god or goodness in the Justice League, and done extensive research on Faes themselves.
Almost everything had given him the same result: A human could be returned from the Other World only if the Fae allowed it.
It's not impossible to trick a Fae into releasing Tim, but it must be delicately done. Those types of beings rarely forgive and never forget.
He had planned for this to happen to him long before he became Batman—after all, he knew those creatures were real after learning of Aliens—but each of his plans to escape the Fae had an "It's alright if I die" in progress.
He could not apply those plans to Tim, as he did not care if his son lived.
He was replaying his interview with John Consitiante- seeing as that man had a lot of practice swinging his soul as a bargaining chip- when Jason came stomping down the stairs.
"I can't find him!" He swears, throwing himself in a computer chair with a huff. Bruce lowers the volume on his computer, making a sound in the back of his throat. It's the usual noise he makes to convey to his children he is listening and is curious about what is upsetting them
Jason, easily able to understand his sounds now, ranks a hand through his hair with a scoff. "The favor one of my contacts called in. Alvin Draper. I can't find anything on him before my contact took him in"
"Could be a fake name," Bruce offers, typing into his search engine some keywords John spilled in his drunken state. He reads over the runes that pulled up while considering Jason's words. "He gave your contact his name in the same breath as his work. He would unlikely have trusted him that much, so he creates a false name to cover up his street name, which he only gives to customers. His birth name is even less spoken."
"Yeah, I thought the same, so I took the initiative to look at anyone working in his usual areas. Some working girls who answer to me have also asked around. Anyone even remotely matching the description has been tracked down and kept safe, but none were the target. I've even had the others look into it just in case the few corner boys didn't trust Red Hood would be more forthcoming with information. Nothing. Zip. Nada! I'm not an amateur, Bruce. " Jason snarks and Bruce fights off the wave of pride. Of course, his children were able to do all that without him. His kids were incredible at their work.
"No one has seen or heard of Alvin within the industry. If he's a corner boy, he's a private one. Those are the worst because it usually means the clients are crazy powerful and extra careful to not be seen."
Bruce pauses, mind rushing at lightning speed. "Power, not seen and....does this Alvin Draper happen to work on these streets?"
He pulls up a map with various colored dots on it. Bruce had been carefully tracking down where Tim and his Fae had been going through. Tim mainly stayed at the Fae's manor but was allowed to go out to work. One of the reasons Bruce truly believed it was benevolent.
If he ignored the information in the packages, it seemed like Tim was taking some personal time off. His other children surely thought so. They all just laughed at the fact Tim was not about but was still solving the most cases out of all of them.
It was primarily remote work, which Bruce didn't mind. Tim needed a vacation from Red Robin and Wayne Enterprises' CEO.
"Yes!" Jason gasps, leaning towards the map. "How did you find all the targeted areas? My contact said Alvin moved almost every night."
Bruce weighs his options before carefully admitting. "It wasn't my intention to get Alvin's area. I have been tracking a new Fae court that followed these paths."
There was a significant pause before Jason asked with great patience. "There is a what in Gotham?"
"A Fae."
"...Okay, and how long has this been in our city?"
"About two months now."
Jason takes a deep breath. He reaches around Bruce to press the communications line, which he presses four times. At once, the cave is filled with the noise of his children going about their night- either in or out of costume.
All but Tim, since he is still within the Fae's castle. It's a setback that Bruce can't find the castle, even after Tim tells him exactly where it is with coordinates.
He assumes that he, as a human, has no access to the building. Nothing on his computers or tests proves that there is a building there, but Tim swears that's where he's been.
"We have Faes in Gotham. B. has known about them for two months," Jason announces, cutting everyone off. The lines go very silent, and Bruce blinks, confused when he can pick up some anger in his children's silence.
"B?" Dick says in that You better tell me everything right now, old man voice. It's the strangely sickly sweet tone he uses that disguises danger.
Bruce is mystified. Why is he angry? "Two months ago, Tim informed me that a stranger had caught his attention and that he was going undercover. He mostly noticed inconsistencies with his target, but it was only after following the suspect home that he realized the man was not human-"
"Father, are you saying a Fae has Red Robin?" Damian interrupted which is unusual. His youngest almost never does that; he's far too polite and disciplined.
"Yes. He's been in his castle the whole time he's been away."
"Did he eat anything the Fae gave him!?" Duke's cries sounded almost hysterical.
"Yes, he has been there for two months. Tim needed to eat."
"RR has been gone for almost three months, B.!" Harper snaps. She was out as Bluebird for the first time in a while. Her college assignments were really cutting into her hero time.
"Is he okay?" Cullen asks quietly. Bruce had always suspected the lad had a crush on his son, flushing deep red whenever Harper brought him over.
"He is fine. Tim has kept contact with me and seems to be thriving with the Fae. I have been working to get the being to give him back without causing him harm."
"That's what all the research you've been doing lately was about?" Barbara demands.
Bruce squints at the screens where voice lines are beside the images of his children. He doesn't know why but understands that even she is cross with him. "Yes."
"Master Bruce, we will be having a conversation later," Alfred hisses- actually hisses, and Bruce feels cold, hard dread slip down his spine. Oh no. Had he done something wrong again?
Should he not mention his theory that Tim and Alvin are one in the same? Would that make things worse or better?
Jason lets loose a series of swears in Spanish. He leans against the table, pitching his voice loud enough that the rest of the Bats can hear him. "Crude, I think the Fae collects people with the same physical characteristics. Tim and Alvin are known as people of the same height, eye color, age, hair color, and even skin color."
Dick, Damian, Duke, and Harper all swear in their own native tounges, which makes Bruce fight the urge to sink down. Yes, it is better not to mention his other theory of Jason's contact being said, Fae.
Not until he has proof, at least.
"Let me guess." Steph chimes in with a sigh. "Tim followed the Fae because he's pretty."
Bruce remains stubbornly silent, but he thinks that Tim finds the Fae or "Danny" quite handsome. Why else would he spend three paragraphs of his report describing Danny's hair?
"I think we all need to come together to work on this," Dick says next, voice taking charge. Bruce's pride and adoration for the children grow a few notches higher when they all agree without thought.
"Who knows what Tim or Alvin are going through."
Meanwhile, Tim sighed as one of Danny's "hired" help carefully worked out some knots in his back. How long has it been since he had a spa day? Too long. "Was that too rough?"
"No, it's the perfect pressure."
"Wonderful. After we are done here, would you prefer a mud bath or a soothing seaweed wrap?"
"Oh, a mud bath for sure."
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luvvixu · 7 days
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mind over matter pt. 1
synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.
tags: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, miscarriage, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk
a/n: y'all, im back after ghosting this page for way too lonh cuz im on my process of taking psychology. yep! this random bitch is up for being a psychologist despite her mental health place amidst the fluctuating status. and you know what's crazy? my sanity is slowly decomposing! all thanks to that one mf and one chapter in which im not going to name about (gege and jjk chapter 261)
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previous / masterlist / next
it all started when he started caring for you.
after being inside an arranged marriage for like five years, satoru was confident with himself that he doesn't need a wife to console his woes as he is perfectly capable all by himself.
to say the least, the start of your marriage was a definition of an absolute disaster. clearly, you and satoru were like a magnet in the same pole, it can never collide despite how many efforts you push on both magnets.
from fights, misunderstanding, up to almost divorce after you caught him kissing another girl when you decided to give him a visit during his mission.
you were hurt, yes. but you would always tell yourself that neither of you want this marriage, so being hurt when there's no even love is called invalid. yet, you can't still help it but to feel somewhat jealous because he was supposed to be your husband—but oh well.
your family begged you to stay as it was for the peace of mind and safety of your clan. you snorted sarcastically as you wondered if they ever cared for your personal peace of mind and safety also.
nevertheless, you still stay inside this loveless marriage and maintain the gojo surname. you forgive him even though he's not explaining himself nor asking for your forgiveness.
as for satoru, he's aware that he's being a dick to you. his reason is that this marriage was his least priority as it was a hindrance for him. so basically and truth may hurt, he thinks you're only a hindrance and a distraction from the higher ups.
there were times where he would bury himself with work so he doesn't have to go to his original home and breathe the same air as you.
there were also times where he spent almost two months without seeing you or even communicating with you. it was like you didn't exist in his life nor he doesn't have a wife!
although, he is not that cruel to the point that he would slam the fact in your face. no, he's just leaving his presence until you feel it yourself that he doesn't want you.
his shenanigans would continue for almost a year until that night occurred.
that night when it was your wedding anniversary and he came home very late after fighting some annoying curse. he took a swearing underneath his breath when the stinky smell of curse blood hit his nose.
scrunching up as he was about to proceed to his own room (despite being married, you two sleep in a separate room) to clean up when he saw you up by the garden. you are currently watching how your little seedlings grow into beautiful flowers swaying along the air with a calm look on your face.
your husband broke the silence by asking you what are you doing this late. in which you replied that you couldn't sleep as you slowly looked at him.
satoru watched your face, it did not even flinch with any kind of emotion—nothing, just nothing. you're basically acting like a robot to him, and he hates it.
"i'll prepare a warm bath for you." you mumbled, standing on your feet and was about to leave when he grabbed your arm.
"i heard what happened earlier." satoru said slowly, as if he's being careful on his words which was very out of character for him.
"really? great." detaching from his hold, you left him no chance and instantly left.
"y/n." the man followed you until both of you reached the bathroom. you paid him no attention and just did the usual things you do, prepare him a bath.
"talk to me, please." his tone becomes soft, pleading. turning the water on, you refused to turn around, you refused to make physical contact with him, you refused to let him see the tears brimming in your eyes.
"go on. say what you want to say. i'm listening." you mentally curse yourself for almost stuttering. satoru looked at you, eyes finally unveiling an emotion. he aches to hold you for some reason but to think that he doesn't want to upset you even further, he stops. all he can do is watch you serve him.
"do you want to keep it?" he asked quietly, his ocean blue eyes dropping on your stomach. getting uncomfortable, you tried to hide it.
splash, splash, splash, you did not answer him.
"i said, do you want to keep it?" satoru asked once again. this time, his voice was a bit louder than before.
"i don't know. do you want to?" you asked him back the question, quietly.
your husband went quiet. having a child is not part of your plan but you have to because that's your purpose of marrying him, to bear an heir. now, satoru was asking you nicely if you want to keep it when in the first place, it should happen this way.
"how many months?"
"two."
"and you didn't tell me?"
"do you want to know?"
"of course i want to know. that's literally my child in there." he pointed to your belly with a slight frustration on his face.
you did not say anything back, just continuing your duties as his wife—wife on papers. satoru was growing upset, tired, even angry at you. where was the talkative and fierce look that you have? where's the harshness in your voice? why do you look so vulnerable now?
"you can take a bath now. i'll be downstairs to prepare you dinner."
"y/n, wait—"
*slam*
before satoru could even stop you, you already left, leaving him in all silence. the husband heaves a deep sigh within him as he recollects the events prior to this day. he remembers how he acted when he discovered to ijichi that you went to the hospital and went back home with a pregnancy result in your pocket.
satoru remembers almost getting killed by the special curse when the news caught him totally off guard. you two only have intercourse when both are drunk after coming home from shoko's birthday and that's it. you also told him that you were on pills so he's relieved. but how?
what if—
no, no, no. you wouldn't. you wouldn't do that to him. you are his little loyal wife and even though both of you aren't on good terms, he trusted your loyalty…or was he? were you?
everything was so messed up that he couldn't think of anything even after taking a shower and now he's on his way downstairs to eat dinner. once he was in the kitchen, he saw you almost absentmindedly cutting the vegetables.
satoru took a seat, quietly. he was watching you as your back was facing him. his six eyes weren't dumb to notice how much weight you are slowly losing. unconsciously, satoru was clutching his fists tightly.
"i bought you your favorite milk tea. it's in the fridge, you can drink it later." your voice seemingly dropped him from his daze. satoru looked at you once more, only to find out that you're still not facing him back.
"o…okay, thanks."
minutes later, you place a plate of curry in front of him. satoru noticed that there's only one plate on the table, which was his.
"where's your meal?"
"i already ate." oh right, it was literally midnight now. you should be asleep by now, yet here you are, serving your husband. also, why does it seem like satoru was hoping to eat dinner with you? it is unusual, to be honest.
for your five years of marriage, you two would only eat together for formal matters. but with a simple domestic setting like this, there's no way a peace would occur if the two of you shared a table and a meal.
while he is eating, satoru watches you grab the said milk tea from the fridge and place it in front of him. "just leave the dishes on the sink. i'll wash them later." and with that, you left the dining room.
the food was great, it was very delicious. satoru can't deny that you're great at cooking, and you really have a specialty when it comes to curry like this. but why does this meal taste bitter? perhaps, was it because of the taste of his conscience? he doesn't know.
the six eyes ate in silence. he was planning to talk to you later about everything. but anyway, satoru has been eyeing the milk tea you bought for him. now this wasn't unusual. everytime you would go out, you would always buy him some of his favorites, mostly food.
like there's a time where you bought him his favorite mochi, crepe cakes, churros, ice creams—basically every dessert or food stalls you happened to pass by. it warms his heart, though. there's also a time where he anticipated what kind of sweet delicacy you would give him next.
anyway, satoru finished eating his meal. he was drinking the milk tea you gave to him while searching for you. he saw you sitting on the same spot when he first saw you this evening, by the patio of your garden. silently, satoru took a seat beside you with a mindful distance between you two.
"can we talk?" he started. in which you reply with a soft hum. satoru finds himself gulping, he sets aside his drink first before mimicking your posture—wrapping his arms on his folded legs.
"so um, since there's a baby now…i'd like to discuss this matter with you, properly. i was thinking about…moving you in one of the jujustu high's dorms." satoru nibbles the straw of the sugary drink, absentmindedly.
"it's for safety measures, since i'm not always at home and the risk will be doubled by now. but if you're inside the campus, a lot of sorcerers would be able to protect you." he added.
"okay." you did not even question him or even argue with him, you just simply agree without a second thought.
the man could feel himself gulping, the bitterness increasing despite the sweet liquid he was drinking. he's starting to get uncomfortable the way you are currently acting.
also, come to think of it, you agreed to temporarily live in jujustu high—does that mean you are keeping the baby? satoru couldn't help but to finally ask you.
"d…does that mean—"
"the baby has nothing to do with us. i'm not that cruel to take its life." before satoru could beat you, you already beat him.
"when will i be moving out?"
satoru gulped the growing rare anxiousness down to his throat. "probably next week. give me some time to deliver this news to the higher ups." you just mumbled an okay as your response.
"y/n, are you really sure about this?" the man couldn't really pinpoint your decision. although you made it explicit, he still couldn't comprehend you.
"i'm okay with anything. it's just you who didn't. also, if you are planning to ask me about keeping the child once again, go ask yourself instead. your decision is my decision." you replied.
satoru made a mental note that your voice sounds more tired than before. it kinda ignited something that he was not used to feeling before as literally a man-god himself who's full of pride.
"i'll be resting now. have a good night." he did not stop you, in fact, he thinks it's for the better. satoru could only follow you by his gaze as you enter your own room.
yes, your own room. the two of you did not share the same room. you two couldn't even bear to eat together, what more on sleeping together. this is not what satoru meant when he asked you to talk. but oh well, guess he should also call this a night. with that, satoru retreated to his own room and slept.
fast forward, you moved to jujutsu high and started teaching as a history teacher in a world full of related curses(suggested by satoru) since you're an alumni at this school like your husband. you like that idea too since it's a great way to distract yourself from everything.
currently, you are watching your third year students train themselves along with the second years and the first years. it was quite a good sight since all of them have a nice and strong potential as a sorcerer.
suddenly, one of your husband's students came to you with a big smile on his face. that must be yuuji, the vessel for the infamous king of curses. you always adored him, he's a good kid. but you couldn't help but to be saddened by the fact that he was literally carrying a big burden over his life.
"y/n sensei, good afternoon!" he waved at you before taking a seat nearby you. behind him, you saw his two other friends—your husband's students too.
"oi, you're being too loud." megumi scolded his friend. he was worried that yuuji's loudness was too much for your situation, your pregnancy.
"it's fine, megumi." you just chuckled. "i have some extra chocolate bars here, you three can have it." the trio thanked you happily, while you just smiled in return.
"by the way, we have a question for you, y/n sensei." yuuji said, munching on the chocolate. you asked him to shoot the question but he suddenly hesitated, looking at his two friends for support.
when he received the support he needed, he took a deep breath. "y/n sensei, we were wondering about your husband a-and…" yuuji trailed off. you already know what he meant, so you didn't wait for him any further.
"oh, i suppose you are curious because you haven't seen my husband even though i technically lived here?" the smile still lingers on your face as you watch them nod their heads.
there's something that you forgot to mention to them, they don't know that their teacher is your husband and the father of your child. you were prepared for a situation like this, though.
megumi on the other hand, could've known this beforehand since satoru took care of him during his childhood. then your marriage came through and your husband was already taking care of megumi, but it was kept a secret to everyone—including him.
stroking your six months belly, a recent hobby of yours when you want to seek some comfort. "he was a busy man. most of his job requires being out of town. but he never fails to shower me with love by making sure that we still communicate despite his busy schedule."
"lately, we've barely talked. yet, he promised me that he will finish all of his jobs and tasks before going home to me. probably that's when our child is about to be born." you sigh just to justify this facade.
the students seem to believe your story. although you're quite worried that they might tell this to gojo and your cover will be blown. you planned to talk about this to him, anyway.
"that must've been hard, y/n sensei." nobara mumbles out of sympathy. she was worried for you and your child due to the absence of your husband.
if only they knew that your experience was much harder.
"you could always come to us, y/n sensei. we will not hesitate to help you and your child." beaming brightly as the other two agreed, you really adore yuuji. the amount of softness he gave to you is something that your future child would like to possess.
"thank you, you three. now, you all better go back to training. i will be heading to shoko since i promised to visit her." watching as the three wave their good-byes to you, you couldn't help but to feel an urge to protect them at all cost. probably due to your maternal instinct but whatever, you just hoped they would stay safe.
another fast forward, you are on your way towards shoko's office to spend your free time. knocking softly on her wooden door, shoko opens the door with a smile on her face.
"how's my little mama doing?" she engulfed you with a hug, which you returned warmly.
"good. the morning sickness did not attack me today, thank goodness." you said as you took a seat on her sofa.
shoko also commented that she was happy too. as mentioned before, stroking your six month old baby bump is a must on a daily basis. you are now used with a thought and feeling of a growing child inside you.
"and how're you and dickhead gojo?" shoko changes the topic.
"we were just fine like i have said before."
your friend heave the deepest sigh you've ever known. "just fine? y/n, do you want me to say the like i have said before too?"
"sho, ever since we knew that we're having a baby, we really tried our best to be compatible with each other. but we just couldn't." it's true, on the exact tomorrow of that eventful night wherein gojo discovers your pregnancy, he tried to make it up to you by lessening the sparkling arguments, making sure you are well feeded, and even showering you with things your eyes would have landed on.
you are delighted, of course. even though he absolutely fails his duty as your husband, at least he's trying his best to be a good father for your child. you appreciate him for that and also start to open your heart and pour a little more trust to him.
however, you are not dumb to notice the faint smell of a female's perfume and lipstick stain on his neck whenever he's with you. your heart slowly closes once again and your little more trust shatters.
once you saw yourself crying silently—feeling betrayed and angry for yourself on trusting him shortly after that. guess old habits never die, you are crying about something you've already expected. self-blaming is an understatement for letting your guard absolutely down.
gojo's still a jerk even though you had his baby. i should've expected this. having a baby doesn't mean he's going to change for me.
"we both tried, sho—we both tried. but we just couldn't." your voice dropped its tone once more. you still felt bitter even if it happened way back like two months ago.
"or he just couldn't." she snorted sarcastically.
you both knew she's right, gojo just couldn't. for years of being married, you unfortunately learned how to love a man like him who doesn't even give a one shit about you. tragic. very fucking tragic. if only you could see yourself directly, you would laugh at her nonstop.
"maybe this marriage is meant to be loveless—"
*slam!*
"yo shoko, i need—oh…" the door suddenly bursts open as it reveals your hot issue for today and probably for the rest, your husband gojo. you could tell that he was also surprised (but he shouldn't be) to see you here in shoko's infirmary.
"learn to fucking knock, gojo." shoko hissed at the white haired male.
"oh sorry. am i interrupting something?" he asked, looking at everything but you. he refused to spare you even a small glance, which you kinda do the same.
"you're not. now what do you need?" shoko was the one who answered him.
before gojo could even open his mouth , you already excused yourself. "i'll be taking my leave now. thanks for the check up, shoko." and then you left, leaving shoko and gojo with an awkward silence.
"aren't you going to talk about your business or maybe you want me to kick you out?" shoko sarcastically made a comment.
"right…" satoru cleared up his throat. for some reason, he doesn't know why he's suddenly getting iffy.
"ho…how's the child doing?"
"you have to be fucking kidding me." shoko groaned loudly. somehow, she expected this, but she couldn't believe that she would actually encounter this.
"y/n was just right there moments ago and you didn't even bother to ask her that yourself?!" the doctor could feel herself getting really annoyed. the truth may hurt but she's getting annoyed by the two of you.
fight here, ignore there—ignore there, fight here.
"bet she told you that we're not on good terms even though we really tried to work it out. yet, you're seemingly acting clueless." satoru snorted sarcastically. he's not dumb that you're telling stories to your friend, shoko.
the doctor rolled her eyes. she was this close from smashing his old friend's face to the wall to wake him up and stop being an idiot. "every fucking time, gojo. but that should not be an excuse to not talk to her. you two are still married for god's sake, and now, there's even a child along the way. i can see how much effort y/n has put in your marriage, you must do the same."
"don't you dare to compare her efforts to mine, you know nothing." he growls.
"but i sure know how shitty you are."
something inside satoru snaps. "why are you being angry at me?! you've been like this since we got married. always defending y/n, but what about me?! i have been your friend since highschool and you just met that girl! wouldn't it be unfair to side with someone whom you just met?!"
"you're asking me that when you have six eyes and yet, you can't see how much she suffers from you?!”
“but what about me? am i not suffering too?!”
how did we get here? things are getting pretty out of hand. two friends getting fired up because of a marriage that was about to fall apart. one being inside the marriage while the other one has the eye inside the marriage.
both shoko and gojo have their own sides but it all leads back to one thing, you are involved.
“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage. everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”
“just want, what? end your marriage by divorcing her?”
the moment the last syllables escaped her lips, she already knew the answer.
“fucking gojo.” shoko mumbles under her breath. “if you want to fix your life, you better not act dumb.”
satoru was still caught silent. his wide eyes trailed on the floor and unable to move. shoko saw how she hit the point. sighing over herself, she motioned the door. “get out, gojo. if you're gonna rethink your life choices, do it in your home with your wife.”
and with that, without a word, satoru left her clinic feeling heavy and defeated.
along the hallway, he saw you. satoru saw you looking at him with horror in your eyes—for the first time in one month, you finally looked him in the eyes, but it's filled with fear and tears.
“y/n, i—” just like what he had done before he left shoko's clinic, you left without saying a word.
satoru felt everything become hazy, his knees were trembling, his six eyes were stinging, his lips were turning white on how hard he bites them. the man shuddered in disappointment, you must have heard everything.
his feet act on their own and chases you, holding you by the wrist. but it was torn away immediately after you forcefully snatched it back. while doing so, satoru didn't fail to notice the hot tears streaming on your pale face, in which you immediately wiped it out.
“y/n, i-it’s not what you think. i…” as much as satoru would like you to hear himself, he hasn't gotten the words. he was left stuck by his own thoughts and self-doubt that he puts himself into shame.
meanwhile, you thought you could've just walked away from the scene. but from the moment you hear shoko and satoru exchange heated words, it gets you glued to the floor and unable to move. despite her clinic being semi-soundproof, you hear everything. even if you're not there in the room physically, you seemingly know everything.
“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage.”
“everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”
“y/n,” satoru called your name. his tone was very far from you used to. you grow accustomed to him saying your name venomously, but now it seems like he's saying your name delicately and vulnerable…and satoru hates being vulnerable.
“i know what you're thinking. i accidentally eavesdropped but i didn't t hear everything.” you internally praise yourself for being a great actress. you thank yourself for not stuttering and not sounding so dejected.
but you lied. you're a terrible liar. you heard everything. you heard every single thing that escaped his lips during his argument inside your friend's office. and you feel like dying, his words hurt you so much more than any deadly curses.
“have you eaten already? do you want me to prepare you for a bath?” satoru couldn't understand why the heck you still care for your wife duties when your husband, him, just broke your heart not so long ago?
you're acting absolutely strange in his eyes and he hates it. he hates how you would just bury or bottle your emotions. you're creating a facade and a labyrinth where you keep it by yourself.
“y/n, it's not time for anything. let's just talk please.” you hate it how he sounds like he's begging, but satoru never begs.
“let’s go to my room. let's talk this out—”
“gojo sensei! yaga sensei was looking for y—oh…” yuuji trailed his tracks when he saw you and satoru together.
“dummy! why do you just yell like that?!” megumi bonked his friend's head for interrupting your talk.
wearing your mask again, you smiled at the duo then brushed yourself away from the scene. satoru couldn't stop you any further, you're already away from him.
either way, satoru does the same, he wore his mask just like you. smiling at his students, he let them navigate the way towards yaga and deal with all of his shits so he would have time and talk to you properly this time.
meanwhile, yuuji and megumi were dismissed after they had done their task. nudging his black haired friend, yuuji pointed out things earlier.
“hey, fushiguro. is it just me or did i just see y/n sensei…crying?” he questioned. megumi remained silent because even saw that you were crying—they’re also not dumb to notice the burst energy somewhere inside your body.
“whether she is or not, it's none of our business.” megumi replied.
“i know. but i couldn't help but to feel really worried about her. you know crying can be bad, especially when you're pregnant, that could stress her out.” yuuji surprisingly knows how pregnancy somehow works. but they both know he's right again. they're worried about you and your baby, so they both take a mental note to visit you later.
as you slam the door behind you, a silent sob escapes your lips as you slide your back behind the wooden frame. along with the sound of your cries, was also the sound of your heart breaking.
for some reason, the facade you just put up there early makes you suffocate. it burns your eyes and it makes you shudder in pain. the hyperventilating noise escapes from your lips while you clutch the handful of fabrics of your blouse.
“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage.”
“everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”
god, that feeling burns! his words keep on burning in your head, engraving the letters piece by piece. those words are not too cruel, it's a little far from what you had heard before. but it came out directly from your husband's mouth, the father of your baby.
maybe, you think you acted this way because of your hormones. but nonetheless, he's like blaming you for all of his misfortunes and that made you recall your past arguments with him before.
it was like a collection of puzzles coming up together, picturing a clear image; you were just a distraction, he wanted nothing to do with you, you were just a burden, he wanted to dissolve this marriage, you would never be his, he wanted to be free from you.
you put your hand on your baby bump, stroking it ever so gently. you swore to yourself that you would never let anyone harm your baby, you would never let this marriage harm your baby, you would never let satoru harm your baby, you never let yourself harm your baby. that's for sure.
because as the clock ticks, time passes. and as the time passes, more tears flow to your cheeks along with blood on your legs.
[part 2 is out now — ©luvvixu2024]
580 notes · View notes
81folklore · 1 month
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i can do it with a broken heart - f1 grid
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parings: gn!driver!reader x platonic!f1!grid x ex!jacob elordi
summary: after yn and their ex break up, they carry on as best they can and no one had any idea how bad they were struggling
type: social media au (smau)
notes: george is in this but he does not drive for mercedes, yn does. i also used a mixture of fem and masc pictures because i couldnt decide and thought you could just imagine whatever you wish!!
notes 2: probably the longest fic ive done so far but im pretty proud of it. the time stamps above each section are semi important so i would keep an eye on them!! also i know ive been gone for so long but i do not promise ill be back. alsoooo i know i only included a bit of the grid but i kept getting distracted and then couldn’t figure out how to include everyone!!
masterlist
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march 2024
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charles oh my god i cant believe my cat is finally the pfp
i have been waiting for YEARS
max yes well you better enjoy it because it’ll change soon and you’ll be back to waiting again.
lando jesus max do you have to use punctuation???
alex be glad he doesnt use captials
oscar one thing at a time lando, we dont want to scare him
max ???
lando anyway
yn mate you ok?
yourname im fine? ur scaring me you never ask how i am
lando yeah but usually your not single
lewis oh no! you and jacob split?
yourname yeah, wasnt working anymore
charles ah im sorry, that must suck😣
yourname i mean it does but its been coming for a long time so its not surprising
fernando hello! yn what is wrong? you always use emotes!
yourname theyre emojis nando, and im fine just a bit lost
fernando do not worry, i will come and find you!
yourname no, i dont mean literally just..we were together for so long i dont really know what to do now you know?
lando i get it, you wanna play tarkov with me???
yourname cheers ill get on now
george let us know if you need anything!
may 2024
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liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and 814,583 others
p✌️ was just what we needed this weekend!
thank you to everyone who came out and supported myself and the team and huge thank you to the team for working so hard all weekend⭐️
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mercedesamgf1 mega job this weekend yn👊 *liked by author*
landonorris nice to share the podium with you mate
yourusername same time next race?
user33 loved seeing you back on the podium
user2 absolutely smashing it this season
user21 more podiums please🤲 *liked by author*
user3 fourth podium of the year first p✌️*liked by author*
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*pretend it says after march i changed dates around last min*
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august 2024
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liked by lukehemmings, charles_leclerc and 1,124,642 others
did some reading, painting and writing
baked some good food and spent time with some good people, also got a cat…not bad for summer break☀️
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user66 AHHHHHH
yourusername ahhhhhhh
user26 cats name plsplspls
yourusername norman🐱
lukehemmings nice music👍
yourusername woah arent you the guy who wrote mum?!
mercedesamgf1 ready to see you back on the podium
yourusername always!!!!
user74 have you had funnnn??
yourusername yesss!! ive been doing lots of things i enjoy, basically treating every day as my birthday😋
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*was supposed to write them instead of her sorry!! was doing two stories at once and kept getting mixed up😅*
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october 2024
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liked by mercedesamgf1, gracieabrams and 1,291,638 others
p☝️ for the 3rd time this season, very very pleased
huuuuuge thank you to the team, every single one of you who worked tirelessly over the summer break and every moment since then, these have been for you⭐️
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user55 what a good season to be a yn fan *liked by author*
user6 these races have been incredible to watch, so proud
yourusername ⭐️⭐️
gracieabrams woop woop!!!!
yourusername ���😝
user2 gracie??
user41 why have we not had any personal photo dumps yet😕😕
user88 right we miss seeing you yn!!
yourusername sorry guys😣ive been suuuper busy working on something i just honestly forgot
user41 NEW PROJECT?? WHEN?? (also pls dont feel bad we love u)
yourusername soon!! (and i love u guys too)
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november 2024
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liked by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 3,689,921 others
tagged: taylorswift
i cannot believe i get to say this, but my new friend taylor just released a new album and i was able to write a song on the album
im honestly not sure how this came about but i had so much fun writing this and expressing all my thoughts and feelings in a way ive never done before
i poured my life and soul into this song and im so glad taylor is the one who is singing it and really bought it to life
send some love to my friend and go and stream THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT (most importantly i can do it with a broken heart😉)
comments have been limited
taylorswift thank you for trusting me with this song, so much love🤍
yourusername NO THANK YOU!!! i will be forever grateful⭐️⭐️
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yourusername added to their story
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seen by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 729,282 others
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charles i feel completely betrayed yn
fernando oh no😟! what did yn do?
charles THEY DIDNT TELL ME THEY WERE WRITING A SONG??
AND WITH TAYLOR SWIFT HOW COULD YOU☹️☹️
yourname sorry charles, surprise?!
charles ill forgive you because its a good song
yourname thank you my life just got infinitely better!
yuki very good song yn! has been on repeat☺️
yourname thanks yuki, glad you like it!!
lando I LOVE IT TOO
but seriously are you ok?!
yourname yeahhh im better now
was just a lot to navigate
lewis glad you found an outlet! but remember you can always talk to any of us
yourname i know and i appreciate it, i really do
alex yn was that twitter thread right?
yourname mate youre going to have to elaborate
alex user56tweetlink
yourname oh pretty much yeah
some things were changed with taylor but not much
fernando just listened to the song yn! very nice👍well done!
yourname thank uu
max good song yn!
now
lando can you please tell me what you meant on your twitch stream!
oscar max is kind of scary
max dont make me talk about that interview next oscar!
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crispy-armpit · 2 months
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✧ 𝒊 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕 ✧
yandere secret agent x reader
‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧ 🍸₊˚ ⋆。 𖦹 °
⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: after taking on your friend's offer to head downtown to a hidden bar, you find yourself in the middle of a covert operation. thankfully Messiah is there to hide you from danger. or did he just push you right into it?
⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: gn reader, yandere, suggestive position & situation, slight violence, reader held at gunpoint, mentions of a firearm and getting shot, reader pressed against male crotch, sadism(?), auditory hallucination (you hear voices), hair pulling, swearing
⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,153 words
⭒ a/n: it was my birthday last month and i had planned to post this by then but ofc i never learn my lesson and kept my drafts in tumblr (leading to it getting deleted) 😭!! so sorry for the wait everyone and happy late new years! :D hope u like the batman wannabe.. it goes from 0 to 100 rq because it's hilarious to me and i'm sleep deprived.. i can smell the hate comments already
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will you venture down this path?
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it was supposed to be another weekend night spent alone in your home; you, comfortably snuggling against your pillows while playing your favourite brain-rot game from night to morning.
but here you were— unfortunately not in your bed, and devastatingly not romancing your fictional game characters. your friend, Vern, had dragged convinced you to join him and try out some random jazz bar which recently opened.
he mentioned his band would be playing there... he's probably just trying to get more people to hype up his band.
the warm ambience of the bistro & bar, alongside the joyous laughter ringing all over the room, people bantering and simply enjoying each other's presence was enough to erase the thoughts of your usual weekend plans. it was the type of place where you couldn't bring up any negative emotions just because of how chill everyone and everything was. so that's one forgiveness point to your friend.
at some point, Vern had split off from you to meet up with the other Ares band members to go perform— leaving you to drink away your life at the bar.
you channeled your best resting bitch face to avoid any strangers trying to hit on you, which worked. you sat alone listening to the blue voice of the current performer, making small talk here and there with the bartender.
oh, the bartender—
you'd been eyeing him up all night.
he was the only other person at the bar. like all other bartenders, he was charismatic and attractive despite the two deep scars running down his left cheek.
maybe he noticed you looking at it, because he suddenly rasped out, "...animal attack" with a nonchalant smile. which is quite impressive, since your gaze never once lingered on the scars for too long. he must be observing me.
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Logan (you read his name tag) was an exceptional conversationist. and he played the bartender role extremely well. he brought up topics like your ambitions, your dreams, and even your darkest passions effortlessly.
but his eyes never seemed to really focus on your figure when you talked.
it was always off to a specific direction in the distance. and when you turned to look at what he was looking at, there would only be the same wrinkly old man sitting on the sofa chair.
"can you see it?"
confused, you reply, "see what?"
do you see it? the eyes? his lack of mouth? with hair as white as his, and skin as dark as void, how can you not see me?
"what the hell are you sayi—" you grow pale when you turn back and see Logan had his back turned away from you the whole time, far from the counter.
who was talking to me?
and for the first time in 3 hours since you've arrived, the old man from the chair moves. he wanders aimlessly for a moment until setting his sights on the bar. multiple random people who were loitering in the room take notice of his sudden movement, and all briskly walk towards him.
you're petrified.
the world is spinning, people are blocking the old man's path from you. and you're so thankful for that because it gives you the time to be pulled on top of the bar counter and then underneath it by a pair of strong hands.
your consciousness recovers and you're met with Logan, body crouched down to your level. his shadowed face shows no semblance of the bright man you were talking to a while ago. now his own icy blue eyes pierced through yours, and the once attractive rasp of his voice is now chilling to the bone.
"Logan—"
"you better fucking shut up unless you want to die."
he pulls out a revolver and points it to your forehead.
profusely nodding your head in understanding, tears begin to prick your eyes; this is so fucking messed up, what is happening??
your brain tells you that this was just the alcohol getting to you, and maybe Logan has some kind of split personality and a murderer... that it's some kind of sick prank Vern is probably pulling on you. maybe my drink got spiked...
but your gut tells you that you are in great danger. alcohol has never made you experience that level of auditory hallucination... hell, you were probably being delusional right now— of course Logan's trying to kill you!!
you could hear the faint sounds of bodies thudding against other people as if they were thrown or pushed. but no screams, just grunts. the loudness of the approaching footsteps came to a halt in front of the counter.
you cover your cries as best as you can with your palms and with Logan's hidden weapon still pointed at you. you could so easily whack it away or dodge it. but you stop once you hear the most grotesque voice ever, the result of what sounded like flesh tearing apart and bones reconstructing.
"where... are... they.....?"
you are faced with two decisions:
scream for help and get shot in the head by Logan
scream for help and face whatever the fuck is out there
either way, you don't get to choose. because the stress of the situation is beginning to overwhelm you and soon your whimpers slip out a little. small enough to not be heard from in front of the counter, but big enough for whoever is on top of you— and that someone happened to be the psychopathic bartender.
you freeze.
but your strength alone is not enough to hold back against the veiny hands that grab the back of your hair and push you against the bulge of the man standing in front of you.
you push and thrash over his grasp, but your actions only lead to him digging the lower parts of your face further into his crotch. WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING??? IS HE TRYING TO SILENCE ME WITH HIS DICK?!
and it works...
you stay silent and limp, not because of fear. but because of the absurdity of this situation and the slow growth of whatever beast is hiding under those black waiter pants.
the heat of your muffled breath against his privates collects in your face, it's getting too much but you hold yourself together. your hands that were once pushing him off now lay on the top of his hardened thighs.
Logan shares a couple words with the old man before pointing him elsewhere. you catch a strange name falling off the old man's lips, Messiah. fuck, is this a cult? shortly afterwards, you hear the light sounds of evacuating feet. he's finally gone.
and with the speed of a middle-aged lady during black friday sales, you manage to push him off to the side and stand up across him, ready to give him a piece of your mind.
you were humiliated, violated, mentally tired and— and—
why the fuck is he blushing.
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happy74827 · 2 months
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Butterflies
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[Harvey Specter x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: You know you’re screwed when you feel them fluttering in your chest {GIF Creds: jeysuso}.
WC: 717
Category: Fluff
For all my Harvey lovers out there, I made a cute fluffy quickie (I’m seeing a lot of my fics being swarmed with love so why not add to it 🤗)
『••✎••』
It happened over a bottle of bourbon. A spilled bottle, actually. But a bottle of bourbon nonetheless, and that is important to note.
You didn’t mean to spill the alcohol all over your date, but he had made some comment about how you shouldn't be wearing a dress with a plunging neckline, so you just… happened to tip the entire thing over him.
The man was furious, of course, but he left pretty quickly after that. And you were left with a mess on the floor and a waiter hovering at the side, asking if you wanted another bottle.
You told him no. You just wanted to go home.
You didn't want a new date; you didn't want to sit at this stupid table with the stupid white tablecloth, the stupid, gaudy candlesticks, or the stupid waiter with the stupid, expectant look on his face.
"Miss?"
"No, thank you," you say, a little more firmly, gathering up your things and leaving as much cash as you can on the table. If you were smart, you'd have brought an umbrella, but you're not smart, so you'll just get drenched like an idiot.
But, fortunately for you, the person calling your name knew you well enough to know you weren’t that smart.
Before a drop of water could even hit your hair, a tall, dark figure steps out in front of you and blocks the downpour. Some might consider this a gentlemanly action, but you knew the man, and he was hardly ever a gentleman.
"You're welcome," Harvey says, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"You're a pain," you reply, but you're grateful for the cover.
"And you're dateless. So, I see two options: we can have dinner and a drink back at my place, or we can do dinner and a drink back at mine."
You can't help but laugh. "Did you use this on Scottie? I see why she left. That line was bad."
"You're not going to ask how I knew you were here?"
"Nope. You probably had Louis stalk me."
"Don't talk about the puppy like that."
"So you did have him stalk me!"
"I prefer the term 'make sure you were alright,'" Harvey replies, and he holds out his arm to you. "Guy was a douche. Let me buy you dessert to make up for it. And I don’t mean in the biblical sense, although that can be arranged, too, if you'd like."
"Harvey, you’re such—"
You turned to him, ready to tell him exactly what you thought of him, but the words died when you met his eyes. Those same eyes that allured you into taking his offer at Pearson Hardman. The same eyes that made you agree to work with him on the case despite your better judgment.
In a flash, you saw the whole thing: your first meeting, the cases, the laughs, the looks, the touches. And now, the moment.
When you were younger, the term butterflies had never really made sense to you. The idea of feeling them in your stomach seemed ridiculous, and yet, there you were, feeling them for the very first time.
They were all fluttering around inside of you, and all you could think was, "Oh, no."
And as if the universe had heard you, it suddenly stopped raining, and you both stood there in the middle of the street, the moon casting a warm light on your faces.
Harvey noticed it, too, and his expression softened. His usual cockiness was replaced with a gentle concern. "You okay?"
You nodded, biting your lip. "Yeah."
Harvey reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his hand lingering a moment longer than it needed to. He gave you that signature grin and asked, "You look like a velvet cake kind of girl. Am I right?"
He was right.
Goddamnit, he was right.
And as he swaddled you in his coat to keep you warm as you both went back inside, the anger and confusion you felt earlier melted into a quiet, warm glow.
Date night had not gone according to plan, but when his lips met yours and your hands slid through his soft, brown hair, you realized that, perhaps, sometimes, it was good to deviate from the plan.
The butterflies seemed to agree.
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