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peachesofteal · 3 months

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Simple Math / Part Seven

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.8k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Brief suggestive content, sex dream. Mentions of domestic violence, stalking. Hospital setting, nurse!reader. Feelings of fear, anxiety. Mentions of stress and weight loss. Soft dads. Little bit of flirting. Simon is... Simon. You get caught in a spell.

Johnny knows this is a dream.

It’s an odd thing, to be conscious of it, to know you’re dreaming but still unable to control your actions. It’s like watching a movie of yourself, but also being yourself, directing your body without having a say in what it’s doing.

He knows this is a dream, because you’re in it. You’re in their home, in one of Simon’s oversized sweatshirts, boy shorts rucked up over the little lightning bolts that arc across your hips, the underside of your cheeks. You’re smiling at him too, like you belong in there, like it’s yours too, and his heart swells, growing to a preposterous size.

“There’s my bunny.” He pulls you into his chest, mouthing up your neck and over your jaw. Your skin tastes like sugar, and when he gets to your lips, his hands shift, sliding down your back to grab two fistfuls of your ass with a groan. “Missed ye.”

“We missed you too.” His fingers trace the edge of your panty line, barely dipping into where you drip for him. “Come to bed, Si’s waiting.” You whisper, stifling a moan.

“Johnny.” Simon calls him, too loudly. He wants to hiss, snap at him about not waking the baby. “Johnny!”

His eyes blink open. White ceiling stares back at him, and he turns his head, finding Simon with a bemused look on his face.

“I was havin’ a great dream.” Johnny grumbles, latching onto him. Simon scoots closer, lifting the back of his hand to his lips with a secretive smile, dotting kisses down to his wrist.

“I know.”

“- and he has access privileges, as long he’s not interfering with care, he’s allowed to be in the room whenever he deems fit. Obviously, in cases where he shouldn’t be, like burn debridement, he’s fine with stepping out, but you should expect him to sleep here.” The nurse nods, nervously peeking over your shoulder at Simon, who’s lurking in the hallway, staring through the glass at the transport techs getting Johnny settled in his room. You catch her eyes, motioning to redirect her attention, and she mumbles a meek apology. “They have a daughter, who Johnny has been mostly separated from since he got here, and he’s hoping to see her often, since she’ll be allowed to visit more freely now. I told him it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay.” Her toes tap against linoleum, weight shifting from foot to foot, and you resist the urge to sprint back to her boss and demand someone else. Fuck. Why does Nora have to be on maternity leave?

“This is my favorite patient.” You warn her instead, dropping your voice low, pitching it brazenly serious. “I don’t ever want to see him back upstairs again, and that’s going to depend a lot on you.”

“Okay, okay.” Her work phone rings, and you jerk your head in dismissal, not quite finished, but not seeing a need to continue to harangue her, either.

Simon glances at you from down the hall, head turning once you’re alone. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t call to you, or say your name, but you’re helpless to the magnetic yank of his presence, a beam of gravity dragging you closer until you’re shoulder to shoulder, looking into Johnny’s room. He’s asleep, dark lashes feathered against his cheeks, blissed out and nearly snoring. “This will be great.” You say quietly. “He can see Penny almost as much as he wants down here. There are far less restrictions, and he’s doing so well, there’s nothing to worry about it.” He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with the x-ray vision that peels you open. Like he’s digging around in your head again.

“D’you have a minute?” You blink at him, graceful words dried out and missing.

“Uh, I… yeah, I’m technically off now so. Sure?”

“Have a tea with me? I’ll meet you outside the café, on the patio. Ten minutes alright?” Have a… have a tea with him?

His eyes are heavy. They’re lasered, locked onto yours, brows knitted together in something soft, some form of emotion that you don’t understand, framing his face above the mask. How can you say no?

“Okay, sure. Ten minutes.” You try to hide how your hands shake, tucking fingernail to palm, squeezing tight.

It doesn’t escape him.

You grow more afraid with each day, that nothing does.

The paper cup cradled in Simon’s outstretched grip is like every other paper cup you’ve seen before, drank from a thousand times, with steam wafting from its rim and aromatics spilling out into the air. “Sorry.” You blurt, reaching. His fingers brush against yours, warm contact momentarily stunning you. ‘Thanks.” You lift the tea to your nose, inhaling deeply.

Irish breakfast. With milk. Your favorite.

“How do you know what tea I drink?” You don’t mean for it to sound so suspicious, or aggressive, but it does. It’s nearly accusatory, but doesn’t affect him. He merely shrugs in response.

“I pay attention.” An engine turns over in the carpark, a small car sweeping across the lot as it turns out onto the street. You watch, feigning mild interest, trying to get a closer look at the driver without appearing too fixated. “So.” He sips, and then removes the lid, vapor rising from the top in a delicate little dance. “How long have you been at Addenbrooke’s?”

“A few years.” The answer is effortlessly supplied, like you’re under a spell. Your eyes go round. What are you doing? Crow’s feet crinkle at the corners of his own, and you manage a shaky smile.

“What brought you across the pond?” He jokes, velvet, soothing lilt in his voice.

“Work.” It’s easy to lie about this, the fabrication usually used in casual conversation almost every day with patients and new coworkers, people who are interested in you being from somewhere else, having a different accent, different education, customs, the whole lot. His jaw moves behind the mask, and before he can push the question further, you rush out your own interruption. “Simon, I want… I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.” He nods. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s… the other night Johnny said something about,” Your face is nearly scalding, embarrassment laden lump stuck in the back of your throat. “about you and him, and… me, I guess…” you trail off, eyes darting down into the tea.

“Go on?”

“He said that you guys think I’m special, and you- you said-“

“That we’re here for you.” He finishes, nonchalant.

“Right.” You breathe a little easier, knowing he knows what you’re talking about, words picking up steam. “I want you to know that it’s totally normal to feel this way. It happens a lot, you know. Patients and, or their family members, loved ones, they get attached. This affection starts to happen towards a member of the care team because we become that person who… provides care, twenty-four seven. So, you and… and Johnny, feeling like you have this attachment towards me, it’s very normal. Not a big deal.” You finish in one big breath, cutting your ramble short. His cheeks swell behind the fabric, like he’s smiling, eyes squinting again.

“That’s not what this is.” That’s not… what this is? What does that mean?

“What?”

“Transference. That’s not what is happening here.”

“How do you…”

“I’ve had years of therapy.” He sighs. “Are you uncomfortable?” Say yes, the girl in your head screams. Tell him you need it all to stop. That you don’t like them, that it’s inappropriate. You know how this will end.

“No.” You don’t know why you don’t acquiesce to your own good sense, why you ignore the very clear boundaries and rules that have kept you alive this long.

“Bunny, I need you tell me, honestly, if you are uncomfortable.” He levels you with an intense look, seriousness bleeding from his irises to yours. You press your palms flat on the table, quelling their trembling.

“It’s not… it’s not you. Or Johnny.” You whisper, eyes slipping shut. It’s easier that way, to just close them, to hide. To pretend you’re somewhere else, to block everything out.

What the fuck are you doing right now? Your brain screams, but your heart wails.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To be known like that? To be held in someone's heart, cherished and protected?

“Sweetheart,” Simon’s voice is low, calming, and when you don’t answer, one of his hands folds over yours. “are you with me?”

“Yes.” You peek at him, and then fully let yourself look around, steadying the rancid fear that permeates through your body. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He hums, hand still over yours. It’s warm, and broad, big thumb stroking a slow circle into your skin. “Is today your Friday?” You nod.

“It is, yeah. I’m… I’m looking forward to catching up on some sleep.” He straightens in the chair, shoulders and torso so unbelievably wide, like a long forgotten mythological god. Or the trunk of a massive tree.

“Will you have dinner with us, tonight?” The last of the orange red dawn spills over the crest of the buildings, and the world spins, cold sweat breaking out down your back.

“What?”

“Dinner, with us. I’m picking up takeaway for Johnny from his favorite place as a celebration, for graduating the ICU. We’d love to spend some time with you. Get to know you, if that’s alright.”

“Oh, I…” Say no, you have to say no, shut this down. It’s too much risk.

“No pressure. Just, hanging out, talking. As friends, if you like.” Butterflies thrash in your stomach so violently your knees bounce, and your heart leaps, pitching itself off a cliff like it wants to die.

“Okay.”

“Great. I can pick you u-“

“No! No, I’m fine. I have some errands to run after I get up for the day so, I’ll just meet you here.” It will be just like going to work. No harm, no foul. You can hang out with them, and go home, just like you’re at work. It doesn’t mean anything. It won’t.

You barely sleep. You pace, you nap, you thumb through endless craigslist listings in faraway cities for apartments, you read. You take the long way through the city back to your flat and slowly sift through pieces of your life that you want to keep. Your quilt from home, that’s been tucked away on a shelf. A sentimental trinket that belonged to your mom, also hidden in a drawer. These things that can be removed, without being noticed.

Not that it matters.

He hasn’t been here. Not since the sick shit he pulled with your underwear. It makes you curious when you inspect the undisturbed tape on the back side of the door, the light dusting of baking powder on the bedroom carpet, but not surprised.

It’s not unlike him, to make himself known and then suddenly disappear, the endless mind games partially intentional, and partially something not even he can control.

After all, duty calls.

He could still be in the city. He could still be watching. You don’t know anything for sure.

“Three things you cannot outrun in this world, babe. Death, taxes, and… me.” You mumble it to yourself, the same words that live in your head, in his voice, repeated, pulling a pair of scrubs from your dresser.

But you had been running, and still had your life to show for it.

It doesn’t matter, you know how this will end.

You’ve changed your clothes five times. You hem and haw in front of the mirror, trying not to look too closely at any one piece of yourself, switching shirt and pant combos until you finally settle on your usual, a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt. They’re high waisted, because low rise is not even within the realm of possibility for your hips, and you appreciate how they fit, even if they may sit a little loose right now, given your recent stress levels.

You look fine, you decide. You look professional. You don’t really look attractive, in any way, but the scars on your torso are hidden, and with a little bit of make-up, you think you look presentable. At the very least, you don’t look like you’re half asleep, which is exactly how you feel.

Not like it matters, you chide. This isn’t a thing; it’s just hanging out. You’re going to put an end to this entire charade, tonight.

The train is quiet, and you’re extra watchful. Every face, every movement is logged, every jacket or hat or hood is inspected. Posture, skin tone, height, of every person you pass or see is tabulated and run through your mind. Your brain, a supercomputer in its own right, does it all, seamlessly. It wants to protect you, it keeps you on guard, it can look at a crowd of twenty people all facing the opposite direction and locate a potential threat, just by the shape of the shoulders.

You don’t see him, you don’t feel him, your skin doesn’t prickle, and you let the lack thereof bring you peace, if only for a few moments.

Johnny’s floor is bustling. You wave hi to those you know, checking in with his nurse for a moment, letting her know you’ll be hanging out for a bit. She doesn’t even bat an eye, thankfully, and you try to settle yourself as you turn down the hall.

You’re not prepared for what you find when you knock on his door and slide it open, breath catching for a moment, and you scramble to cover your initial balk.

Their daughter is here. She’s cuddled up on Johnny’s good side, the one without the burnt tissue or recovering surgical wound. She’s asleep, wearing a black onesie covered in skulls, her head tipped back and mouth open, chubby cheeks and sweet little face perfectly content. She’s got her entire fist wrapped around one of Johnny’s fingers, holding it right under her chin like she’s afraid he might vanish while her eyes are closed. “Hey, bun.” Johnny whispers, smiling so wide, two fingers stroking through the wispy curls on top of her head. “We snuck in a visitor tonight.”

“I see.” Your heart trembles.

“Fell asleep right away, next to her Da. Been missin’ him these past few nights.” Simon chuckles, patting Johnny’s leg gently, affectionately. There’s a bag of take out on the table behind him, as well as what looks like an overnight bag, a purple duffel stuffed full. “Price is on his way to pick her up.” Penny gurgles, eyes blinking open in a sleepy daze like she knew they were talking about her.

“Ye’re alright, sh-shh, wee lamb.” Johnny coos. She’s half soothed by his words, but the lights in the room are far too bright, and her small noises waver into a cry, frustrated and tired. He tries move her, cradler her higher up his chest, but his face falls with pain, and Simon swoops in, pulling her into his arms. “Bunny, could ye-“

“Would you-“ They both try to ask at once, and you flounder once you realize the intention, a cranky, sleepy Penelope being pushed into your arms.

“I-“ she wails, interrupting you, bending you to her will without fuss, and you hold her closer, rocking side to side, humming above her ear. Just like the NICU, like a patient, like your stint in L&D, it’s fine, it’s-

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Not fine. It’s not fine. Heat burns in your belly. He can’t call you that, not when you’re holding their baby. “Thank you.” Simon says over his shoulder. He’s moving Johnny, lowering the bed slightly to help reposition him, and they speak quietly to one another, voices low enough you can’t make out any of the words.

“I can help you with him, if you want.” He waves you off.

“I need the practice, won’t have you around all the time anymore, yeah? And once he gets home…”

“Ach. ‘m not paralyzed. Jus’ uncomfortable.” Johnny glowers, pouting, and you roll your eyes, rhythm steady, gently bouncing, letting Penny cuddle into your chest, snuggling her face against your arm and side. She’s beautiful, precious and sweet, cooing herself back into a light slumber, and you smile despite yourself, still rocking after her eyes start to shut. “Knew she’d like ye.” He says softly, and you glance up, surprised by the intensity of their focus, heavy gazes fixed on you.

“She’s very sweet.” Your lips twist.

“She is.” Simon agrees. “We were happy to get her some time with her Da. Good for both of ‘em.” His fingers find Johnny’s cheek, and then their hands meet, a palm pressed to lips, a whispered a I love you.

An intimate moment, as you stand there with their baby in your arms.

“Alright, now that ye’ve done the hard work by gettin’ her back down,” Johnny gestures, urging you to step forward, and you carefully place her back in his arms. For a moment, your faces are level, and you get caught in his eyes, nerves strung so tight they could be a tightrope. “I’ve got her.” Weeks in the hospital, and he still smells like cedar and oranges, woodsy citrus that envelopes you, your lashes fluttering on the inhale. “She likes ye.” He murmurs, breath warm and tickling over your cheek.

“Well, she’s...” you straighten, hands smoothing down the front of your top. They’re moist, somehow, and you tuck them behind your back. “She’s a good judge of character, I guess.” Simon’s phone vibrates, Johnny’s plush smile turning dour, and he sighs.

“Okay baby girl. It’s time.” She cries a little, readjusting to Simon’s hold, and he slings the purple duffel over his shoulder, promising to be right back. Johnny nods, eyes downcast, and his face twists once the door shuts, cheeks turning red, staccato, hiccupped breaths coming fast.

“Hey.” You whisper. “Hey, Johnny.” The chair at his bedside creaks under you, and you lean forward, fingertips lightly caressing the tape residue that still sticks to his skin. You should clean that off.

“’m alright.” His shoulders roll, chin jutting out, brilliant blue gleam in his eyes returning, like storm clouds rolling off after rain. He’s silent for a beat, pinky finger folding over yours. “How was yer day?”

“Oh, it was… fine.”

“Simon said ye were goin’ to catch up on some sleep?”

“Yeah, I didn’t.” You laugh, and he smiles. “I feel okay though. Still awake at least.”

“I’m glad… ye came. I’m sorry if the other night, I was too… forward.”

“That’s okay. You’re just… so flirty, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” You tease, expecting to get a lighthearted quip in response, or a laugh, but he gives you neither, only a serious, sympathetic expression.

“I didnae mean to make ye uncomfortable. Felt terrible, when ye ran off, I-“

“I’m fine, Johnny. You… you didn’t. I mean, it was just… confusing, this is… this is a lot.” He nods.

“I know it is.”

“And you don’t even know me.” His brow creases, focus narrowed in so tightly on you, white walls, white hospital blanket, white everything falling away in a spiral of color.

“I know ye better than ye might think." He cracks a smile. "We want to, if ye’d let us.” No, you don’t. You almost say it. Almost promise him that knowing you would be the stuff of their nightmares, that they have no idea what they’re trying to bite into, or bite off, a near guarantee that it would be than they could chew.

“Well, no harm in making new friends, right?” You entreat weakly, and his eyes flash, ethos of an entire life that you have no knowledge of slipping through, and the dark severity rumbling in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine.

“Aye, bun. Especially when they look like ye in a pair of jeans.”

Dinner is an idyllic affair. Johnny’s favorite takeaway turns out, is Indian, like yours, and the three of you talk for hours, trading bites back and forth, laughing and listening to stories, discovering little bits and pieces about their lives while running interference on personal questions about yourself, allowing them to dip in skin deep, skimming off the top but never getting further. They tell you about themselves, Penelope, their jobs, how they met, and Johnny confides in you about his sketchbook collection, pages upon pages of charcoal and pencil line work, portraits of Simon and Pen covering each page, landscapes, and the occasional cartoon. Your spine eventually starts to wilt, muscles liquifying into goo that can barely hold you upright, and you curl up in the armchair, chin on your palm, listening to the ebb and flow of their voices as they tell you a particular story about how they came to find their current home, a near slapstick comedy about an interaction with the previous owner. Their voices soothe your restless mind, wrap you in a cozy embrace that feels so safe, so comfortable that you can’t fight the languid, siren call of sleep, eyes drooping into darkness, drifting away on their melodies, content and too tired to rationally put together what’s happening. At some point, something covers you up, knit warmth that is tucked in around your shoulders, your feet, a tender touch on your neck and cheek. A whisper of affection soothes the unease that lurks in the background of it all, and you fall into it lazily, farther into the hold of sleep, something your brain and body are desperate for.

When the lights go dim, you don’t even realize, already lost to the sand of slumber.

Around midnight, you wake with a start. Your heart is racing, triple timing in your chest, and you squint in the dark, trying to parse together where you are, what happened.

Oh no. Oh god, did you fall asleep on them? Did you fall asleep in Johnny’s room?

Simon calls your name. He’s settled in a recliner, head turned your direction, mellow light from the little lamp spilling across his features. “Are you alright?” Your mouth is dry, the web of sleep that holds you in suspension finally starting to wane, fuzzy clouds in your head trying to clear without much luck.

“How long was I out?”

“Four hours.”

“I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head.

“Wanted to let you sleep. I know you were tired, and Johnny was out almost immediately after you.”

“Th-thanks.” Your back groans, muscle and bone grinding together, stiff from sleeping in a cramped position for hours, and you’re surprisingly unsteady on your feet. Simon’s out of his chair in a second, turning around the end of Johnny’s bed to offer you a hand, his other lightly resting between your shoulder blades.

“Easy.”

“Sorry… just… think ‘m more tired than I realized.” It’s dark, and you’re disorientated, woozy, tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, limbs and lids still heavy and desperate to fall back asleep.

“I’ll drive you home.” His keys jingle, and you know you should reject him, refute this presumption, push him off, but you can’t string the right words together in your mind, can’t bring yourself to truculently pull away.

So, you don’t. And to your surprise, your shock, it feels… nice. You let him open the door for you, get you settled, you listen to his music on the way, city flying past outside the window, quiet hour of the night crawling by. You let him help you out of the car when you pull up to the curb, and when he asks if he can walk you up, your rational pugnacity is nowhere to be found.

“This is me.” You gesture to the door, fumbling in your wallet for your keycard.

“How long have you been in the hotel?”

“Oh, not long. Reno just started so…” His head turns, surveilling the hallway. You’re in an end room, far from the elevator but close to the stairs, as requested, and there’s a camera that sits on the ceiling, green dot consistently blinking. He glances at it, then back to you, head tilted.

“Are you safe here?” The world goes cold. Your stomach roils, blood draining from your face, and you try to hold yourself steady, mind turning over a million times. You’re overreacting. He’s just asking in a general sense. He doesn’t know. He couldn’t. Breathe. Deep breath.

“I uh, yeah. It’s got a deadbolt.” Along with a door stop alarm, and a security bar. He steps closer, so close that you can smell him, fresh laundry and musk, something spicy lingering there, something dark and enchanting.

“Are you in trouble, little bunny?” You’re in his shadow, beneath the stretch of a mountain, shielded by it, by a monolith so large it could blot out the sun. It overwhelms you, slows the racing pace of your mind, and you try to sort through the merry go round of feelings that are all trying to push their way out of your mouth.

You’ve never felt this. Never felt this… desire, to entrust someone with your life. Never felt this… attraction, this hold that the two of them have on you.

It makes you want to trust them. Makes you want to lay it all out and beg them to help you. Makes you want to close your eyes and leap, praying they’ll catch you.

It’s wicked. It’s dangerous. It’s a fool’s errand.

It’s unfair.

“No.” You whisper. You can’t look at him, and time slows in the silence, your anxiety piquing. Of course, he would assume something is wrong, after witnessing the panic attack. Don’t read too far into it.

“But you wouldn’t tell me if you were, would you?” He’s pragmatic, yet still kind, watching you with intent. It doesn’t allay any of the stress that’s building up the back of your throat and closing it, cutting you off from the oxygen you desperately need.

After an eon, he sighs.

“Okay, sweetheart. You can keep your secrets. For now.” You choke.

“I… I should probably-“ you jerk your head towards the door, half turning away to swipe your keycard.

“Alright.” He moves carefully, dipping low, and you stand immobilized, confused and quivering as his cloth covered mouth presses a slow kiss to the top of your head. It’s like he’s bewitched you, cursed you, and you can’t do anything but stand there, stunned. “Thanks for coming tonight.” You’re a deer in headlights, a rabbit in a scope.

“Simon.” His name is the only thing you know right now, and it comes out reedy, almost a squeak.

“Get some rest. We’ll text you tomorrow.” He pushes the door wide, arm snaked behind your shoulders, and when you don’t move, he urges you forward, an encouraging hand on the small of your back. Your feet blindly stumble through the motions, searching for the light switch, for your sanity. “Goodnight, bun.” He hums, and the door clicks shut, leaving you alone, staring at the beige-yellow paint on the wall.

The afternoon trains are packed. It makes your skin crawl, not because you dislike busy or hectic places, but because there are too many eyes. You force your head to stay up, casually scrolling past the faces that are turned every which way, keeping your back to a corner or window as often as possible. You’re not sure you even needed to take this route, the one where you loop around and change trains twice, but… old habits die hard.

You’re lighter today, mentally. It’s in your steps on the stairs, the way you tilt your face up to the sun, how you bounce and bob a little along to the rhythm in your headphones.

You try not to read into it, too much. You tell yourself it has nothing to do with the good morning text messages from Johnny and Simon, or the hilarious back and forth between them after Simon sent a god-awful joke to the group chat. It has nothing to do with the heat that spreads through your fingers to toes when you think about Simon last night, kissing your forehead.

You slip inside your apartment, popping your headphones free, glancing at the tape and the door jam, before setting your bag on the counter. You idly sort through some mail you left out the other day. Junk, junk, junk, nothing taxing or important, nothing work related or-

A shadow moves. It flickers against the wall by your bedroom, growing larger, stalking closer to the kitchen, to where you stand, frozen, heart pounding in your ears.

This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.

“Hey there, sugar.” He croons, the thick, Texas accent unmistakable, and you breathe his name in horror.

“Phillip.”

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livinghostly · 2 months

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a family forged in curses – satoru gojo x reader

a/n: sorry i haven't been writing work has been burning me out and i've been playing the sims in my free time to cope wc: 3.2k you and satoru get called to the office after an incident with megumi at school. fluff, mama bear reader, talks of child neglect ((no one is neglected)), tsumikiii and megumiii best siblings. think i went off too hard with the principal idk why i was pressed

satoru gojo sat in one of the stiff chairs of the principal’s office. heavy glands of sweat formed on his temple and slipped down to the hem of his uniform shirt. he braced the clamminess of his hands against the curve of the leather armrest. the air was thick, and as his chest heaved he inhaled the tension that constricted his throat with a tight burn. the fear was unfamiliar, spurring on the unsettling agitation of his stomach.

megumi was seated behind him, seemingly just as terrified– his eyes blown wide in horror as he stared at the black and blue knuckles laid in his lap. there was a dried bloodstain on his thumb, taunting him. he covered it with his opposite hand.

it was a nice day outside, the sun was shining and it wasn’t too hot or too cold. sunlight filled the room and reflected off of the finish of the principal’s wooden desk.

“these recent developments in megumi’s behavior, truly, are just detestable. i truly can’t say i’ve seen anything like it in the years i’ve worked at this school.”

satoru’s eyes flickered to you, seated closest to the door. your hands were neatly clasped together over your crossed legs, posture straight as if it’d be graded. there was an attempt to portray yourself with amiableness, but he caught the disgust in your eyes. he’d seen it before, when making contact with the blood of a curse, the times utahime tried to cook for faculty parties, when satoru himself shoved his overseas souvenirs in your face that were way too sweet to be considered edible. though, they paled in comparison to the rage you seeped now. your smile was relaxed, polite, but the rest of your face was pinched with frustration. the temptation of smoothing over the space between your eyebrows tugged at his fingertips, but was pushed to the side as he watched the air around you turn to steam.

on the way in you passed the nurse’s office. with a glance you caught on to the fact that there were a handful of middle schoolers sporting the spoils of megumi’s martial arts training. they were older, bigger, with teary eyes and blubbering incoherently about the recent string events to the staff. among them, tucked in the corner, was a kid much smaller and seemed to meet a different fate. he hugged his knees to his chest and stared longingly at the wall. there were a few scratches on his forehead and a crack in the lens of his glasses.

“it’s my understanding that megumi doesn’t have many friends here, and i’m afraid further acts of delinquency will only disconnect him from his peers.” the principal inhaled deeply. “it’s safe to say he already is considered a disgrace of some sort. his own sister seems to avoid him in the halls.”

your chest bobbed with slow, calming breaths. despite that, your tone was harsh, “i don’t mean to interrupt, but from my understanding, megumi stepped in on another student who was forced to eat pavement in the courtyard.”

megumi visibly winced at your inflection, curling himself into his seat a bit more and tucking his hands under his thighs. in the back of his mind, he knew he’d do it again. but he would do anything to prevent you from showing up to his school like this. the first few times an incident like this happened, it had been gojo alone who was called (he was much closer, with you being sent off on missions. and the staff preferred to speak with another teacher– it would be sound logic if it wasn’t gojo).

gojo, who nodded absentmindedly to the concerns of the staff and took megumi out for ice cream after. ice cream for himself, really– megumi’s appetite was usually flushed out by his embarrassment as soon as they left the office. he would probe gently at megumi’s antics, and conclude their outing by promising to downplay when speaking to you later.

the principal was a stout man, before you sat down you caught the slight wind of his feet swinging back and forth behind his desk. there was a disconnect between where the part in his hair once was and where the shiny toupee settled on his head. every so often, he scratched it with uncertainty and tousled his ‘hair’ into sticking in different directions.

“that is… handled–”

“because he handled it.” you said sharply, dragging your smile to your features again. the principal was seeing through it much more now.

he sighed. “i called you here more to discuss the state of megumi’s relationships.”

“and how is this relevant to the incident at hand?” you spoke slowly, nodding your head forward as if to say: choose your next words wisely.

“well, it’s hardly isolated. in most situations like these, the root cause stems from home life.” he rushes out his words, his accusatory stare turning to one of caution as he meets your eyes again. not so much for your sake, but for his. “to be frank, i don’t believe he’s receiving the right attention at home.”

there was a quiet shuffle outside, against the office door. out of your peripheral, you watched as a shadow was cast over the sliver of light peeking through the bottom by the squeaky rubber of what you knew were two pink tennis shoes.

your jaw, if possible, tensed even more. megumi’s head snapped to you, catching the slightest tick as you jutted your chin in the direction of the principal. once he wasn’t so taken by fear, he could appreciate your ability to contain the cursed energy that flowed through you. he was unable to detect even a rouse of energy, whereas his nerves manifested in the palms of his fists with an unruly flame licking his forearms. beside him, he sensed the presence of gojo’s infinity, activated on pure reflex as his body recognized the looming hostility in the atmosphere.

“i have to say i disagree–” your head tilted to the side, and you ignored the loud gulp of your counterpart.

“i expected as much. it’s my understanding that neither of you are all that present at home, it’s been said you both take long trips out of town for your work? is that true? have you considered the effects this has on megumi and tsumiki? i’ve heard she often–”

in an instant, your pupils shrank themselves into the size of needles, the color of your eyes remaining concentrated with anger. the muscles around your eyes twitched as you fought off the indignant expression that threatened to reveal itself.

“and i find this an inappropriate conversation to broach with megumi in the room,” your voice raised slightly as you cut him off. “there is a time, a place, and a counselor more suited for this discussion– and you’ve overlooked every measure and jumped to the conclusion he’s neglected? and from what, exactly? things that have ‘been said’ on campus grounds, by other children? rumors? i’m ashamed to see the lack of forethought prior and instead you jump to scrutinize blindly.”

every word was charged with venom, further filling the office space with an uncomfortable strain at their muscles. satoru winced, sliding his palms over the armrest to relieve himself of the sticky sweat he’d accumulated– and he had unconsciously squeezed the metal into a new shape. his chest was tight as you sucked the air from his lungs and used it to break down the principal with the eloquence of your words.

“it speaks to the reputation you’ve accrued, though. i expected as much.”

“excuse me–!”

you raised your palm. “i’m not sure i can. you summon us to an office to insult us and insunitate we aren’t parenting our son, not even present in his life, and on top of it have the gall to call him a delinquent?”

you rose to your feet, narrowed eyes still settled on the man in front of you. megumi and satoru were quick to rise with you, unsteady hands settling on their chairs to prevent them from hitting the floor. the principal went ignored as he urged satoru with his eyes to speak up, to put a stop to the scene before him. unfortunately for him, satoru’s eyes were trained on you with unwavering loyalty, waiting with baited breath for your next move.

the principal faced his palm to you, gesturing for you to sit. “miss y/l/n–”

“it’s gojo.” you snagged your jacket from the armrest, glowering eyes promptly cutting him off. he gawked like a fish out of water, a thin layer of sweat beginning to sheen over his forehead. “you better update your damn records before the next time i’m back here.”

you opened the door swiftly, catching tsumiki side-stepping at the last second to feign innocence. a futile attempt, you both know, as she reddens with embarrassment and turns her head with a lingering pout.

following you into the empty halls of the middle school was like a breath of fresh air for satoru and megumi, the cool atmosphere consoling them from the warping heat of your vexation. the raven-haired boy gravitated to his sister as they shared a concerned expression, your unaccustomed anger driving knots into their stomachs. your silence was deafening, the only sound being the rapid thumps of your footsteps overshadowing the entourage of much quieter ones behind you.

satoru fell into step with you, slipping his glasses down to the tip of his nose as he observed. it was in his nature to poke the bear, to push and push and push until it broke, and he would relish in the chaos that followed. however, since you were thrust upon his life his mind was overridden with an instinct to preserve your open heart laid bare before him, to ease your tensions and give until there was nothing left of him. to pull you closer and closer until you were one.

at your wish, he’d part the seas and move mountains and throw himself across every puddle in between for you to walk on.

“tsumiki, megumi, can you go get your stuff from your lockers?” your tone softened, despite the crinkle you still held between your eyebrows. even as your anger dissipated, your frustrations lingered like the kindling of a fire ready to light itself again.

they nodded fervently, disappearing down one of the hallways with quick footsteps. satoru kept himself in line with you as you approached the vestibule of the school entrance, a delicate hand finding your wrist and fingers pressing gently into your palm.

he closed the distance, leaning into you. his voice ghosted the shell of your ear as he teased, “you know, seeing you get all riled up was kind of hot.”

you scrunched your nose, biting back a smile. you didn’t have to look at him to know he was wiggling his eyebrows. unfortunately, even the days you tried to wallow in your anger he was there to sweep it away. “yeah, right. that’s why you were shaking in your boots.”

“shaking? me?” his free hand splayed against his chest and he looked to the ceiling with a roll of his eyes. “only out of concern for that poor principal.”

“you don’t think he deserved it?”

“i think you went too easy on him.” satoru smirked. it was your turn to roll your eyes.

the two of you fell quiet again, satoru with an unrelenting stare. you finally met his eyes as he silently wished for, he poured admiration into his gaze and hopes you would let it cling to you in the way he was desperate to with his own arms.

your eyebrows narrowed again as a heavy could hung over your heade. as you began to reflect, your shoulders sagged under the weight of your thoughts. “he’s wrong though, right?”

satoru forced you to take a proper hold of his hand, squeezing as you averted your gaze.

“of course he’s wrong, we’re great to that little brat.” he threw his arm up in exaggeration, his body closely following as it wrapped itself around your shoulders like it had a mind of its own. there’s a comment lingering on the tip of his tongue, he doesn’t utter it, knowing it’s stinging the back of your mind as well– it was either us or the zenin clan. “both of them. if they had any issues i’m sure they would’ve ran away already.”

you frowned at him. long ago, when satoru had first dragged them into your life, the fear loomed over you daily. the possibility of them running away, deciding the streets would be better than two crazed strangers that spoke of monsters and cursed energy, had constricted your muscles with fear to the point of physical exhaustion.

you always tormented yourself with the question if they really liked living with you, being raised by you despite the chaos of jujutsu (and the excruciating taunts of satoru gojo).

come to think of it, you don’t know the last time something like that crossed your mind.

“really. you’re doing a great job, you always have. especially considering our…” he lowered his voice to a playful whisper, “unconventional circumstances.”

“do you think they want to leave?”

“not a chance. i’m sure they’re siphoning money out of my bank accounts as we speak, and they’ll use me ‘til i die.”

you smiled, shaking your head. the fear in your composure was beginning to resolve, as you melted into the warmth of his hand. he took that as his invitation to reel you in closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. he reached forward and gently pressed his thumb into the space between your eyebrows, satisfying the urge that had been buzzing his fingertips for what felt like forever. pride swelled in his chest when he pulled his hand away and you relaxed, your expression no longer holding on to your sorrows.

for good measure, he placed a sloppy, wet kiss in your cheek that you squealed at. he grinned as you tried pushing him away through your laughter, slapping against his chest– a futile attempt as he only tightened his grip on you and pulled you impossibly closer to land another one on your opposite cheek.

“you– are so– annoying–!” you claimed through giggles, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. his slobber came with it, all that remained being the hot flush of embarrassment.

“how could you wipe away my love so easily?” he pouted. he began to dip you– or rather, you began to dip yourself as he leaned closer and closer.

“we’re at a school, there could be children around.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, dangerously close to being horizontal.

“so? at some point they take a sex ed class, right?”

“satoru!”

after scurrying through the halls, tsumiki watched with a bored stare as megumi stretched for the top shelf of his locker for his textbooks, her arms crossed as she leaned against the cream locker next to his. he still had to rise to his tippy toes, being a little less than a head shorter than her. she heard that boys hit their growth spurts later and it was a lot more sudden, she wondered if he’d end up taller.

he slipped each book into the backpack hanging half-zipped on his shoulder at a leisure pace. his pinched expression had a striking similarity to the one you held barreling out of the office, though he held less anger, and he seemed disconnected from his surroundings. there was a fog over his eyes while he mulled over his thoughts.

she rolled her eyes at the mysterious demeanor he fought so hard to maintain. she believed he probably thought he seemed cool that way– too cool to express his vulnerability.

“so, she called you her son.”

megumi glanced at her with a quick side-eye, pausing the rough shove of his textbook into his bag. as much as he wished to stay reserved and withdrawn from the rest of the world, she always seemed to know what he was thinking. annoyance weighed in his chest.

“okay, so?”

she looked at him expectantly. “so, how do you feel about it?”

“i feel fine.”

“are you going to say anything to her?”

he rolled his eyes. “it was a slip of the tongue, tsumiki. there’s nothing to say.”

she glared for a brief moment, before reaching for the last book at the top of his locker. it was tucked in the corner too far for him to grab himself, she wondered how he got it up there in the first place.

tsumiki handed it to him, and he begrudgingly accepted it. as much as he hated asking for help, he hated her offering without asking much more.

“you know that’s not true. i heard her talking in there, she didn’t stutter once. she knew what she was saying, even if she was pissed off.”

he was quiet, shutting the metal door with a soft click that contrasted his hardened expression. or, the attempt he could muster with reddened cheeks and a gentle understanding in his gaze. guilt filled his stomach, you were really pissed. “so, what, you want me to start calling her mom?” he continued with a mumble, “i’m not calling gojo dad, ever.”

tsumiki didn’t point out that he implied he was open to calling you mom, instead turning her head with a proud smirk. ”pfft, he’d never let you live it down.”

the pair fell into stride in the hallway, soft footsteps echoing in the halls. megumi caught the glances of his peers in their classrooms, peaking into the hall window with curiosity wondering why they’d be roaming.

“maybe we get her a mother’s day card this year,” tsumiki pondered out loud, reflecting on the day in years past. thank you cards had sufficed thus far, despite the lingering tension around the holiday and the bouquets thrown on your dining room table, none of you ever broached the topic of motherhood.

megumi stayed quiet, looking out the window and ignored the growing grin of his sister. she knew well the lack of his pushback might as well have been him jumping up and down with glee. the picture drew out a muffled giggle that made his cheeks burn.

“do you think she’s mad?” he asked out loud. he knew you were. as long as you’d been in their lives there was an everlasting sweetness of your composure, and he wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

tsumiki laughed loudly now, though short-lived as they turned the corner and spotted you at the end of the hall. your hair was a bit tousled and your husband had his arms wrapped around you pathetically, whining about something she was sure you could all agree was insignificant. you stood tall to the best of your ability, being weighed down by the stature of a 6’3” man.

your eyes snapped to them with a natural instinct, spotting the slightest figure of your dependents, your kids, and keeping a watchful eye. your gaze softened as tsumiki grinned, grabbing her brother's arm and pulling him to match her quickening pace.

she was always quite perceptive. from afar, she detected the warmth of your admiration reaching out with tentative fingers carefully beckoning them into your embrace.

“i think she’s over it.”

(p.s. you weren’t– megumi was on dish duty and had to help tsumiki with her english homework that week.)

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goldfish-afterhours · 4 months

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Genshin Characters Apologizing After a Bad Fight

Characters: Diluc, Childe, Kaeya, Zhongli x Gn!reader

Type/genre: Bulleted headcanons, angst/hurt comfort?

Warnings: Curse words, probably not the healthiest coping mechanisms/apologies

Diluc

His apology comes out strained, as if the words are clinging to the back of his throat

His fists are clenched tight by his side. He prepares himself for you to yell, to scream at him

But you don’t even turn around to look at him

Diluc always saw you as his rock, his lighthouse in the stormy night, the one who keeps him steady as his duties of both vineyard owner and vigilante shake him back and forth like a ragdoll

But right now, it hits him for the first time how small your back is, how human you look

Has he been taking you for granted all this time?

When you don’t respond to his apology, he calls your name, and you finally turn around

His eyes widen when he sees the tears streaming down your face

His heart absolutely breaks. How could he have made you, his love, his everything, hurt this much?

Before either of you says anything, Diluc flies towards you, cradling your head gently in his arms, as if any slight pressure would cause you to break and shatter like glass

“How pathetic of me to make you cry. I’m so sorry.”

Childe

His heart could rival the weight of the world right now

Childe isn’t used to disappointing others. No, he’s always been the golden boy, the prodigy, the one who sets the bar and breaks it at the same time

So how come you are sitting with your back to him, refusing to say a word?

And why can’t he find it in himself to say something, anything, to make this better?

He is petty person, someone willing to drown an entire city rather than admit defeat. Any word of apology is almost impossible to force out of him.

Instead, he drops a book in front of you. It flips to a random page, and you can see the photos and names of people listed on it

Not unlike a cat bringing their owner a mouse, this was Childe’s form of an apology, even without the actual words being uttered.

“Choose any person from this book. I’ll bring you their head.”

Kaeya

His fingers are restless, constantly scratching the back of his hand or twisting each other

His jaw is clenched, shoulders slumped forwards as he refuses to look you in the eye

“I…I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

You knew that Kaeya had a hard time with apologizing—not because he was arrogant and thought he could do no wrong, but the emotional and physical toll it took on him was great

He often finds himself caught in a dilemma

On one hand, he has a difficult time admitting he is wrong as it forces him into a vulnerable position. To be wrong is shameful, an embarrassment.

On the other hand, he knows he fucked up. And he knows there are only a very few amount of fuck ups people let slide before they get fed up and leave.

And having you leave is not something he can afford

Kaeya’s seen this before. Faced again and again with abandonment, he knows a simple “I’m sorry” is not enough to make most people stay

But it is all he can offer

He prepares himself for the worst, but he was not prepared for the way you gently lifted his chin with your hands, a soft kiss melting away his fears

Zhongli

When you slam the door to your room, Zhongli doesn’t try to stop you

He doesn’t knock on your door, nor does he try to coax you out

He knows your type of anger—it’s like fire, and feeding premature apologies or sweet nothings would only fan the flames

So he sits outside your door until you’re ready to come out

Slips you snacks and books from under your door, in case you get hungry or bored in your anger

When you see the treats and novels slowly appear from under the door, you’re still fuming, but it’s difficult to be furious knowing your thoughtful lover is on the other side, not pushing you to calm down but trying to make you comfortable as you sit with your anger.

When you finally calm down enough to unlock the door and step outside, Zhongli is waiting

There is not a trace of annoyance on his face, but you can tell he relaxes a little from relief that you are willing to come speak with him again

Takes your hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze as he apologizes for his behaviour earlier.

“Please accept my apology, my love. I never meant to hurt you.”

#my writing #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin angst #genshin hurt/comfort #Diluc #Childe #Kaeya #Zhongli #diluc x reader #childe x reader #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader

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themoonitselff · 5 months

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Senseless Secret.

Summary : After a long day, Mizu finally gets home to discharge her anger with you, the thing is that this is the first time you ever have an intimate moment, due to her issue with being touched ( You think she's a man, still don't know she's a woman.)

Warnings: Not proofread, nsfw, rough sex, risky sex, mentions of word “cunt”, clothed sex (js mizu), dirty talk, pet nickname. Be nice, it's my first time publishing nsfw.

“Mizu-- wait-” You mumbled between those wetty kisses, slowly falling backwards into the mattress.

“Unless you want everyone to hear you, be quiet.” demanded the black-haired, blue-eyed girl, who has been hunting you like an animal since you put a step inside the room.

Mizu got on top of your jelly body again, and continued pushing her lips onto yours like you were the fire of her loins, your tongues fighting with each other inside your mouth, wild and rough, while she undressed your body completely, which was helpless due to the strength of her grip. You slipped your hand through Mizu's clothes, but she quickly grabbed it, preventing you from discovering her little secret between her thighs.

“Nu-uh, not yet” Mizu cooed.

“That's not fair! Let me feel you too” You shrieked, pouting.

“I've been patient all my life to have you like this, you should do the same.” Then she took off her orange-tinted glasses and tossed them to the side of the room, those blue orbs could see through your soul, sneaking in your darker desires and lustful thoughts.

She left wet kisses on your lips, which descended to your neck, your breast, your abdomen and finally your venus mount, she looked at you once again, searching for approval, you could feel your inner walls pumping inside of you, desperately wishing for being penetrated, touched, satisfied, of course you nodded for her to continue, Mizu put her face between your thighs and plunged her lips over your clitoris, sucking it lasciviously, you immediately began to make noise, moaning and exhaling in pleasure, two fingers slipped into your wet, sloppy cunt, moving inside you in a back and forth motion, female juices trickled down her chin and hands, leaving her lips wet as she kept teasing and making you see the heavens, she pulled away from your clit to see your sweaty and red face, almost killing you in an instant because of how gorgeous she looked.

“Are you enjoying it?” She asked, slipping her fingers faster, her whole wrist was full of your fluids and cum.

“Fuck, yes-” You closed your eyes, embarrassed, you were so vulnerable at this point that if she tells you to fucking bark, you do it.

“Look at me when I fuck you with my fingers.” Even more brazen, she left a nibble on your inner thighs, making you shudder and whine.

Familiar steps came closer outside of the room, suddenly you remembered Ringo was making tea and he said he'll get you some, making you alarm and open your gaze widely, you tried to get up but a hand covered your mouth full of moans, you look at Mizu who's still fingering you like you were such a brat who needed a lesson.

“Mizu, stop, please-” You begged, feeling some kind of fear of Ringo finding you like this, being fucked by his master.

“Shhh.. We don't want him to know this, do we?” The samurai teased you.

Your body writhed like a worm because of the pleasure, Mizu removed her hand to exchange it with the other (hand cramps ofc), three long slender fingers entering you easily, expanding your cavity like a chewing gum. She moved to your clit to continue to lick the tip and fill it with saliva, her fingers getting tighter and tighter as they were caught in your cunt contractions, closer and closer to climax.

“ Y/N! I already made the tea, do you want sugar in it or you prefer it simple?” Ringo yelled from the outside of the room, he didn't know you were already having the sugar at this point.

You cursed in silence, and looked at Mizu with a sad puppy face, like telling her to stop, but she didn't, she liked to embarass you. It seemed like you had to answer.

“I-I... ! I like it simple, thank you.” The adrenaline was rushing through your spine, it was closer, and closer, and closer.

“Okay, bye!” You heard him getting away from your bedroom door. You finally let a loud moan, releasing your orgasm.

The fun part was that she was still pushing harder inside you, making you sensitive and sobbed.

“You did so well down here and containing your voice with Ringo.” Mizu cherished you, deepening the thrusts with her fingers. “That's my good pet.”

“I already cummed, please let me take a break..” You whimpered, full of tears and sobbings.

Your pelvis was contracting more and more, Mizu's tongue all over your entrance was driving you crazy, like you were about to have a second orgasm, a painful one.

“Is my poor little thing cumming again? Can you do that for me? ” Finally, she stopped licking your clit to get closer to your face, your thighs were around her waist as her fingers thrusted hard in your sweet point, your bodies were so close you could feel her heartbeat.

“Fuck-Yeah! Fuck me stupid-!” Your voice was cracking and getting higher of pleasure, your eyes connected with her as a lust emotion, her clothes were getting soggy of your fluids and sweat, it was so hot, she was so hot at this moment, then...

#mizu blue eye samurai #bes mizu #mizu #mizu bes #mizu x reader #mizu x you #blue eye samurai x reader #bes #gender neutral reader #mizu smut

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jeonjcngkook · 1 year

Text

clandestine | myg (m) teaser

pairing: gangleader!yoongi x f!reader

genre(s)&au(s): gang au, bitch better have my money or i'll fuck ur girl au, angst, pwp, smut

rating: 18+

word count: teaser - 405

warning(s)&smut warning(s): strong language, mentions of weapons, threats of murder

summary: bloodthirsty and dangerous, yoongi wont stop until he gets what he is rightful owed. and if you're on offer, then he just cant say no to that.

banner: @kth1 | @kth1fics

note: hehehe...

“Sir, over here,” you overhear someone whisper — probably having heard the snoring from above you.

The sound of heavy duty combat boots picking up pace and heading straight in your direction makes you still. You don’t move an inch in fear of getting caught, placing a hand over your mouth to keep your breathing at bay.

From underneath the bed, you count five pairs of boots. They move slowly around the bed surrounding you in a circle. Two of them make their way to the side of the bed where Hee-won lies and another two direct themselves to your side of the bed, vanishing behind the comforter that you had pulled down earlier.

The remaining body doesn’t move from the bottom of the bed. Instead, you watch on as he pulls out the chair from underneath the vanity; the scraping of the chair legs against the floor is like nails on a chalkboard causing you to hiss at the sound.

He sits down in the chair and spreads his legs too casually for someone who is breaking into an apartment which can only mean he has done this many times in the past. He’s calculated and smart — knows how to play the game.

The room is silent.

Nobody talks and nobody moves.

Your eyes frantically dart back and forth between their legs, watching for any movement…but nothing. The sound of a large heavy bag being dropped to the floor makes you jump in terror, your body hitting the framing of the bed.

Someone had to have heard that…

Your body chills at the thought of being caught; who knows what awaits you outside of your hiding spot. Who knows what these men are capable of.

You’re able to make out someone shushing those around him and you watch as the man who is sitting in the chair eventually gets up and walks over to the side of the bed to join the other two where Hee-won lays.

One of the men bends down in your peripheral vision as his leather gloves starts to unzip the bag, emptying the contents all over the floor. The sound of metal on metal hitting against each other is deafening in the small bedroom. You watch as guns, knives and an array of other weaponry is scattered in a small pile on the floor.

“Where is she?” You hear who you presume to be the leader of the home invasion ask. “She’s supposed to be here. I swear if this fucker has touched her, I’ll bury him myself.”

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mockingjaysinging · 5 months

Text

Is It Over Now?

Coriolanus Snow x Reader

Summary: Snow and you spend some alone time after he helps you win the 10th Hunger Games.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Some plot, smut (badly written smut), OOC Snow, no use of y/n, penis in vagina sex, handjobs, vaginal fingering, not proof read.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51707884

A/N: Some more smut. Enjoy.

Victory in the 10th Hunger Games was yours, but as your body weakened, a loud bang echoed across the arena. Collapsing beside a mesmerizing assembly of rainbow-hued serpents, you found yourself amidst a scene where these serpents, previously eliminating fellow Tributes, now encircled you. Anticipating a lethal squeeze akin to their treatment of the others, you braced yourself to be suffocated to death, yet these serpents, instead of harming, gracefully slithered across your exposed skin, oddly radiating warmth.

Their sinuous movements became an unexpected comfort, their smooth scales offering a curious sensation as you surrendered to the overwhelming exhaustion and gnawing hunger, with the dancing serpents, you felt as the darkness enveloped you completely.

As consciousness returned, the overwhelming brightness disoriented you, making it challenging for your eyes to acclimate, especially after the arena's limited illumination. The only familiar light had been the occasional sunbeams penetrating the arena's collapsed ceiling.

Amidst this disorientation, a woman's voice echoed in the room, her tone carrying a clinical detachment. "She's awake," she declared, devoid of any emotional inflection, her words registering faintly as you struggled to regain full awareness.

You winced at the sudden sharp sting shooting through your ankle, a painful reminder of the bad fall you had endured while attempting to escape from Reaper in the arena.

"Stay still," commanded the voice, and obediently, you complied, fearing the consequences of defiance. The prospect of being thrust back into the arena loomed as a potent threat, compelling your compliance.

A sudden icy grip seized your arm, prompting your gaze to dart downward, revealing a firm grasp from someone, and a strange contraption in view. Panic surged within you at the sight, nearly compelling you to wrench your arm free. Sensing your escalating panic, the woman swiftly barked an order, "Hold her down," perhaps aware of the impending struggle.

Another figure emerged, seizing and restraining you while the initial woman persisted in her actions. A sudden jab of pain coursed through your arm, prompting an instinctive struggle against it. However, the room's light started to fade, and the encroaching unconsciousness began to overwhelm you. Unlike in the arena, where you succumbed easily, this time you resisted, fighting against the impending darkness. Despite your efforts, the battle against unconsciousness proved futile, and moments later, your eyes closed entirely, surrendering to the inevitable loss of consciousness.

The next time you wake up, the room appears slightly dimmer, allowing your eyes to more easily discern the surroundings.

Summoning inner strength, you exerted effort to raise yourself, relying on your hands to assist in propelling your body into a sitting position.

As you surveyed your environment, the absence of windows caught your immediate attention. The room appeared devoid of any signs to the outside world. Moreover, the ceiling lights appeared dimmer than during your previous awakening, casting a subdued glow that suggested a deliberate reduction in brightness.

Your focus then shifted to a nearby machine, to which you seemed somehow tethered by what looked like strings or wires. The contraption emitted a continuous, grating beeping noise, provoking an instinct to hurl it across the room, yet you exercised restraint, refraining from acting on that impulse.

The room was devoid of any color, in a strange way it reminded you of back home. District 12 was all gray and colorless, and this room felt much the same.

Startled, you reacted with a jump at the sound of the door opening, admitting two unfamiliar figures into the room.

You had never seen either of them before, and for the first time since waking up you were reminded of your mentor and how much you longed to see Coriolanus Snow.

The man stood at a shorter stature, clad in attire far simpler than the ostentatious fashion you had expected of Capitol residents. His clothing unexpectedly evoked a resemblance to Coriolanus,

The man presented a stark juxtaposition to the woman who accompanied him. She wore a long red shirt that gradually transitioned to white at the hem, complemented by white pants and blood red gloves. Her striking feature, however, was her mismatched eyes, which fixed upon you with an intensity that surpassed any expectation or prior experience.

A tense silence enveloped the room as all present exchanged stares. Despite your desire to speak, fear gripped you tightly, rendering you incapable of uttering a single word in their presence.

"Our Victor is awake," the woman announced with a broad smile, eliciting a wave of unease within you.

Her words struck through you. You had actually won! The notion seems completely untrue but somehow it is true. You survived the Games, but what happens now.

You adjusted your body on the bed, feeling slightly unsettled as the woman approached. "Congratulations on winning the 10th annual Hunger Games," she exclaimed with fervor.

Noticing the anticipation in her expression, you understood the need to respond. "Thank you," you managed to say, though your voice emerged strained. Your throat felt dry and it hurt to speak.

Largely absorbed by the woman before you, you barely registered the man's approach, bearing an offering in his hand.

He presented it to you—a cup of water.

Your hand instinctively reached out to grasp it, yet something held you back from taking the cup.

Observing your hesitation, the man sighed, bringing the cup to his own lips for a sip before offering it to you once more. This time, you accepted.

With thirst overpowering your restraint, you swiftly consumed the contents of the cup.

"Oh, she's rather thirsty," the woman chuckled.

You deliberately averted your eyes, setting the cup aside.

The man coughed lightly. "I am Casca Highbottom," he introduced himself.

Nodding in acknowledgment, you listened attentively.

He gestured towards the woman. "And that is Dr. Gaul, the head Game Maker," he explained.

Suddenly, the woman's peculiar and somewhat cruel demeanor started to piece together in your mind.

"Do you know why we are here?" Dr. Gaul asked abruptly.

Shaking your head, confusion swept over you, unsure of the unfolding situation.

"You emerged victorious," the woman stated. "Tell me, how did you manage to survive against my snakes?" Her tone remained casual, yet her scrutinizing gaze carried an intense focus as she studied you.

Uncertain of how to respond, you hesitated. "I don't know," you eventually replied after a brief pause.

"You don't know," Dr. Gaul echoed, her feigned empathy evident in her tone.

"I—" you started, but your words were swiftly cut off.

"That mentor of yours was quite determined to make you into a victor," remarked the unsettling woman.

At the mention of his name, Coriolanus, you instinctively locked eyes with her. "Where is he?" The strength in your voice caught you by surprise.

"Oh, he’s fine," Dr. Gaul responded casually, yet you couldn't overlook the burgeoning excitement shimmering in her eyes as she observed your reaction.

"I want to see him," you asserted, taken aback by the commanding tone in your voice.

"And why would we allow that?" This time, the man spoke up, his demeanor noticeably angrier than his initial neutral expression upon entering.

Facing him, you noticed the marked shift in his expression. "Because," you struggled to find words, "He's my mentor, he helped me," you offered weakly, unable to formulate a stronger argument.

Dr. Gaul chuckled at your feeble response.

"Would you like to know how you won?" Dr. Gaul inquired, though you sensed she intended to divulge the information regardless of your response.

As expected, without pausing for an answer, she continued, "He slipped your scent into the tank housing my snakes."

Her revelation left you staring at the woman, a mix of confusion and uncertainty swirling in your mind at what she had just disclosed.

"My snakes target those with unfamiliar scents," she elaborated.

Realization dawned upon you; the snakes should have killed you, but Snow managed to obtain your scent and introduced it into the tank before its arrival in the arena. Recollecting the moment when he wiped your tears with a handkerchief the night before your entry into the arena, it all clicked into place.

Oh Snow, you felt immediate gratitude towards him, tears unwillingly began to fill your eyes but you quickly forced them away.

"I understand," was your simple response.

"Hmm," Dr. Gaul replied in acknowledgment.

Feeling a surge of anxiety, you queried, "What happens now?" Fear tinged your words, uncertain of their impending decision.

"You should be sent back to your District and Snow should be serving in District 2 as a peacekeeper," Casca Highbottom said. You detected the hints of bitterness in his voice as he uttered Snow's name.

"I'll return to District 12?" you queried.

"No," Dr. Gaul responded swiftly, exchanging a glance with Casca before turning her attention back to you. "We've decided to let you stay."

"Stay?" Confusion laced your question.

"Yes, you'll remain here in the Capitol," Dr. Gaul confirmed.

"Why?" Doubt tinged your inquiry, mistrusting the words of the head Game Maker.

"You're the victor, sweetheart," she stated as if it were self-evident. "Things are changing; we've discovered that allowing our victors to return to their Districts after winning is rather uninspiring to the people of the Capitol."

You nodded in acknowledgment, though the full meaning behind their words remained elusive.

"And what about Coriolanus?" you inquired.

"He's your mentor," Dr. Gaul began, "it would be strange if we allowed a Hunger Games victor to stay in the Capitol while dispatching one of our own to serve as a Peacekeeper."

You absorbed the information, feeling relieved that Coriolanus wouldn't have to leave his home after all.

"May I see him?" you asked once more, and this time it was the Game Maker responded.

"I'll send him in," she declared with a sinister smile, then began to make her way to the door. You watched as she departed, slipping out of the room.

"You should be careful," the man's voice diverted your attention from the doorway.

"What?" You questioned, puzzled. You survived the Hunger Games, you couldn't fathom facing more danger in the Capital.

"Coriolanus Snow isn't who you believe him to be," he stated solemnly, casting a sympathetic glance your way. "I do hope your survive him,”

With those cryptic words, he departed, leaving you with a sense of bewilderment.

You were left pondering what Casca Highbottom had meant when the door to the room suddenly opened again.

He strode in, his demeanor displaying a touch of weariness that you hadn't witnessed before, yet he maintained his familiar presence despite his apparent fatigue. His hair retained its icy golden hue, and his striking blue eyes fixated on you with an unwavering intensity.

For what felt like an eternity, both of you held each other's gaze, silently absorbing the moment. Finally, Coriolanus broke the silence, approaching the soft bed where you lay.

"Are you alright?" Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with concern as he reached the bedside, examining you closely.

"I am now," you replied softly, feeling a mixture of emotions in his presence. "I didn’t think I would ever see you again,"

"Neither did I," Coriolanus admitted, his gaze holding a hint of regret.

"I couldn't just stay away, not after everything." He said after a moment of lingering silence.

"I'm glad you're here," you confessed, a sense of relief washing over you at his presence.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he admitted, his tone softer.

He drew nearer, settling himself onto your bed, hesitantly taking hold of your hand.

You offered a gentle smile at his nervous demeanor.

"You'll be staying here in the Capitol," he said. You noticed the slight excitement in his voice.

Nodding in acknowledgment, you replied, "Yes, they told me that already,"

"Tomorrow, they'll release you," Coriolanus relayed. "Dr. Gaul mentioned they'll arrange a room for you at a hotel for the time being."

You stayed silent for a moment before finally speaking up, "Will you come with me?" Coriolanus was the only person you trusted in the Capitol; he was your friend and you wanted to be with him during your time here.

Offering a small smile, he responded, "I can visit you if you want."

"Yes, I'd like that," you affirmed, grateful for his willingness to support you during your stay in the Capitol.

You reunited with Coriolanus in the seclusion of the room allocated to you following your discharge from the facility you had been held in.

He appeared poised, clad in attire far more exquisite than anything you'd seen him wear before, his hair slicked back. He looked refined, yet a part of you yearned for the familiarity of his former fluffy curls.

True to his word, Coriolanus had arrived shortly after your arrival to visit you.

He began by sharing news about being honored with the Plinth Prize, attributing it to your triumph in the Games. He spoke enthusiastically about his forthcoming work under Dr. Gaul for his studies.

Despite your reservations about Dr. Gaul due to her pivotal and harsh role in your suffering during the Games as the head Game Maker, you opted to keep your thoughts to yourself. Coriolanus radiated enthusiasm, making it challenging for you to voice your dislike for her in his presence.

"That's wonderful news, Snow," you remarked.

Offering a sheepish smile, he hesitated before speaking up, "You can call me Coryo if you'd like. That's what my family and friends call me," he added, noticing your lack of response.

"And are we friends?" you inquired, curious about his perception. While you considered him a friend, and perhaps even more, you were uncertain if he felt the same. Despite his actions to ensure your victory, you wondered if it was solely for his Plinth Prize or if there was something deeper.

He regarded you with an incredulous expression, moving closer and clasping your hands in his. "Of course," he affirmed.

Looking up at him, you noticed his height, often towering over you. Staring into his icy blue eyes, you found nothing but sincerity reflected in them.

Coriolanus starts to lean in, his face drawing nearer to yours, and you find yourself motionless, his face now mere inches from yours. He gives you one final glance before his lips gently touch yours. The kiss is gentle and chaste. You feel warmth radiating from both of you, his lips still touching yours. Your breath quickens and your heart races. His arms come around to your waist, your fingers intertwined with his, as the two of you stand together.

You pull away from him slowly, a soft sigh escaping your lips. A look of confusion crosses his handsome features, but he soon recovers and offers you another smile. "Is this okay?" He questions.

You return his smile and nod. "Yes." You reach up, brushing your fingertips lightly against his cheekbone. He closes his eyes as he leans into the caress. You continue to brush your fingers through his skin, your thumb gently rubbing against his bottom lip.

You can't help but notice how warm his skin feels against yours. You wonder what sort of things would happen if you could run your fingers along his neck, if you could feel how strong and well defined his muscles are. Would his hair be soft to the touch or stiff and dry like straw? Would he taste as good as you imagine and—

Your gaze falls back to his mouth, wanting to press kisses across his pale pink lips again. How long will it take for the both of you to get used to each other, you ponder, as his hand reaches out to cup the nape of your neck. As his fingers entwine behind your head, he pulls you closer towards him. Without warning, he kisses you again, pressing himself closer to you. You can hear your own heartbeat quicken, almost sounding thunderous.

His hand moves down your back. You shiver at his touch, the heat of his body warming you up. The sound of your heart pounding is nearly deafening in its volume as his hand caresses your clothed body. When he slides his hand beneath your shirt, you moan softly against his warm hand. He seemed slightly alarmed by your reaction, but soon he continues, letting his hand roam underneath your shirt as he continues to kiss you.

When he finally pulls away again, you open your eyes. His cheeks are flushed pink as well, and you find yourself staring into his azure eyes. He looks so beautiful that you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and never let go. But then reality sets in as the reality of just what happened dawns on you.

With a deep blush coloring your cheeks, you look away from him and attempt to recover some composure, though you fail miserably. You begin stammering apologies, not daring to look at him as a whole. It was a momentary lapse of judgment and you shouldn’t have indulged your desires like that—not with someone like him—but you couldn’t stop yourself.

"Hey, hey," he murmurs, gently cupping your face in his hands. "Everything's okay,"

You peered into his eyes, searching for any trace of insincerity or pity, but all you found in his expression was genuine sincerity. It took him only moments until he pressed his forehead against yours, a small smile lingering across his face. "I wanted to kiss you,"

You stare into his eyes again, trying to gauge his sincerity, your heart beginning to slow. You find comfort in his sincerity, something that you had not felt since the Games.

Slowly, you lean forward and place a tentative kiss onto his lips, the kiss is sweet and passionate and you're filled with happiness. For a while, you remain there, kissing each other, your mind's blank, but eventually you break apart, breathing raggedly. Your hearts pounded against your chests. A grin spread across your face. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

He smiled back at you, reaching out and caressing your arm. “Nor did I,” he admitted softly.

Suddenly, his hand moved up your arm to rest against the top of your shoulder. A thrill raced through your nerves. “Do you trust me?”

“Always,” you answered without thinking.

Coriolanus gazed deeply into your eyes, as if he knew exactly where you were vulnerable. With a smirk playing on his lips, he leaned in to capture your lips once more. This kiss wasn’t the sweet, innocent exchange from earlier. It was hot and demanding, as if you were going to devour each other at any moment. You found yourself gasping for air, a pleasured sensation flowing through your chest as you felt his tongue brush against your lips.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you reciprocated his embrace, allowing yourself to melt into his warmth. His arm was wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your entire body ached from the prolonged contact. The only thing keeping you from melting into the ground was Coriolanus’s strong arms.

After several moments, Coriolanus broke away. He tugged at your shirt, his eyes briefly met yours in a question, you nodded and Coryo lifted the plain shirt over your head, leaving you in just your undergarment. You heard him inhale sharply and you turned away slightly, a blush covering your cheeks.

As you turned to look at him again, you saw him gazing at you intently, his expression unreadable.

His fingers deftly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a torso that made your heart race. With a swift tug, his pants followed suit, leaving him standing before you in nothing but his boxers. Without a word, you mirrored his actions, shedding the plain pants that had been provided upon your arrival.

The two of you stood there, gazing at each other, a mutual sense of desire radiating between you as you stared into each other's eyes. He pulled you into his arms again, gently guiding you onto the bed.

With one fluid movement, his body fell on top of yours. You lay there, holding each other as the two of you kissed. His warm body enveloped yours as he continued to kiss you tenderly, savoring every detail as much as you were savoring each new experience.

You felt his tongue sweep gently against the inside of your bottom lip and you parted your lips, giving him access.

When he tasted your tongue against his, it sent chills down your spine. You felt his warm fingers brush against the clasp of your bra, you arched your back up, signaling him permission to unclasp your bra.

He pulled away from you briefly, allowing your bra to fall off your shoulders. He gently placed his lips back against yours, deepening the kiss. In spite of the cold weather outside, his body was burning against yours, and all of a sudden, it was like fire was consuming both of you.

In response to his touch, a shudder ran through you, goosebumps prickling along your exposed flesh. Your naked breasts were now firmly pressed against his, you moaned as you felt his hand cup your breast, caressing your sensitive nipples.

You could feel your body reacting to his touch, your legs involuntarily parting to give him access to your body.

His touch became increasingly more urgent, his tongue swiping roughly across the seam of your lips. He began trailing kisses down your jawline to your neck, biting and sucking gently on your skin as he went. Your hips bucked upwards, begging for more attention, more love.

Coriolanus’s hands glided down your sides, stopping at your hip bones, grasping a hold of your thighs tightly. His thumbs traced delicate patterns on your inner thighs, creating tiny friction.

He then slid his hands lower, his fingers slipping under the edge of the waistband of your panties. You gasp as you feel his fingers slide beneath your underwear. He pauses for just a moment, taking in your reaction.

You bite your lip as you try to regain control over your body, but he quickly moves his fingers, slipping them past the barrier of your panties, he begins to slowly massage your clit, your body trembling beneath him.

“Coryo,” you groan quietly, “Please…more…”

You feel his grip on your thigh tighten, his fingers moving faster against your clit. His lips continue their ministrations, nibbling and kissing his way down your neck, sucking on your skin with a feverish passion as he continues to tease you with his fingers. After a few more seconds of this, he slips in a finger, it was uncomfortable at first and painful, but quickly the discomfort eased as you grew used to the feeling. He began to pump his finger into you, slowly increasing the pressure, increasing his tempo.

Your body trembled, your breath came out in short sharp breaths as you were overwhelmed by his movements.

“More…,” you cried, unable to contain yourself anymore. You gripped onto the sheets beneath you tightly as he pushed two fingers into your wetness, his thumb circling your clit as his fingers pumped rapidly, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your eyes shot wide as an orgasm washed over you, the tight grip on the sheet lessening as the intensity of your climax faded away. Coriolanus stopped pumping his fingers and brought his mouth back to yours, capturing you in another fierce kiss. You felt his hardness through his boxers, pressing against your belly, and you couldn’t help but moan. You wanted him, you wanted him inside of you, you needed him.

His lips left yours and trailed down your neck, nipping at your collar bone, causing shivers to run throughout your body.

“I need you,” you whimpered, wanting desperately to be closer to him, needing to feel him within you. You were surprised at your sudden bravery as you let your fingers glide down his body, touching his chest, his stomach until your hand linger around his hardness. You could feel the heat radiate from him through his thin material.

A soft laugh escaped his lips and he grasped your hand in his. He intertwined his fingers with yours, lifting himself slightly so that you could slip your hand underneath his boxers, you gripped him lightly, massaging his erection as gently as you could.

Suddenly, he began thrusting harder into your hand, causing you to squirm beneath him. A strangled noise escaped his lips as he began thrusting harder into you, moaning loudly as he held you closer, wrapping your legs around his waist, you could feel your body tightening around him once again.

His thrusts gradually increased, becoming more rapid as he began to grow more aroused and impatient.

Suddenly he grabbed your arm, stopping what you were doing, "I won't last if you keep doing that," he said.

You nodded.

You watch as he reaches into his boxers and pulls out his cock, his cock is completely hard and throbbing in his fingers. You feel heat rising between your legs as you stare up at him hungrily, wondering if he was about to enter you.

"Are you ready?" he asks you, still gazing down at you.

You nodded once again, hoping he didn’t find your answer unsatisfactory.

He lowered himself. Taking in a shaky breath, he positioned himself, leaning over you, his chest brushing up against your breasts. You inhaled sharply as he entered you.

He moved slowly, it stung as he moved deeper into you.

"Oh," you cried out softly.He stopped, looking at you with worry. You offer him a smile, "I'm fine, keep going," you urged him on, clasping your arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer to you.

Coriolanus moved slowly, he filled you out completely and stayed inside of you for a few seconds, letting you adjust to his size. When you felt ready, you have him a nod.

He resumed thrusting. Your eyes closed and you took everything he gave you, feeling his hardness pounding into you steadily. He paused again, catching your eye, his eyes looked deep and filled with lust.

"Fuck…" he breathed heavily. It's the first time you've ever seen him lose control. His voice sounded strained, it made you want to hear him say those words.

"I know," you replied in a low husky tone.

He grunted in satisfaction.

He began stroking himself against your body, continuing to thrust his hips forward while making small gasping sounds as your nails dug into his back. You felt him beginning to grow more intense, his thrusts getting quicker , deeper. He gritted his teeth against your neck and you

tighten your grip on him as you feel him grow even harder.

"Oh God...," you whispered. You felt your orgasm approaching and reached down to pull yourself closer to him, desperate for him.

"Faster..." you moaned.

He started fucking you harder than before. The sensation was unbearable. You could feel how hot his cock was growing. Your entire body felt like it was on fire.

You could feel his thrusts getting even harder. You moaned out loudly as your whole body was being penetrated deeply by him, your nails leaving marks on his back and your thighs clenching around his waist. You had never felt anything like it before. This was different; you didn’t think it would happen again. This was heaven; your mind was blissfully blank as you lost yourself to the sensations. Everything seemed to fade away as all that mattered were the sensations running through your body.

Suddenly, his shaft shot out cum into your pussy, causing you to gasp in shock and pleasure as you felt yourself come to. His face was contorted with pleasure as he stared down into your eyes, breathing heavily. Your cheeks flushed red, you could feel his arousal pulsing against your core, filling your entire body with ecstasy.

He leaned down and kissed you passionately. He then pulled out of you slowly. Coriolanus collapsed beside you, he wrapped his arms around you tightly, his hands gripping your waist. You felt safe, comfortable, loved.

After a few minutes, Coriolanus lifted his head off the pillow and rested his forehead on yours,

"That was amazing," he murmured.

You smiled up at him, admiring his handsome face, “It was definitely surviving the Hunger Games for,” you giggled quietly.

He chuckled as well.

He planted a kiss on your forehead as exhaustion took a hold of you and you drifted off into sleep into the arms of your mentor.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #ao3 link

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milkteahood · 1 month

Text

unmasked

Thomas Hewitt x fem!reader

Warning: smut! minors dni!!!

Summary: more smut. But with a plot. This wasn't supposed to be a smut, but of course it is. Because that's just how I am as a person.

Living with the Hewitt family wasn’t always easy, but it sure had its nice parts, and the nicest part was Thomas. Oh yes, the reason you were still alive today was simply being a decent person to Thomas. Which slowly progressed to more, finding yourself in this limbo of having a huge crush on him, while he was still keeping you at arm’s length.

It was very strange to fall in love with a man whose face you never saw. Yet here you were, catching yourself staring at him again. Even though he warmed up to you, Thomas was still caught off guard whenever he saw you staring, so you tried to do your best to avoid him seeing you. That of course didn’t always work and today was one of those days.

A couple of seconds passed before you realized he was looking back at you.

“O-oh! Sorry” you said, smiling at him.

He’s been around you long enough to know you weren’t being malicious, but he still didn’t know what to make of it, so he just nodded and turned back to what he was doing.

You mentally cursed yourself for making him feel awkward, not that you could’ve helped it. Your heart ached whenever he walked into the room, yet the fear of being rejected was enough to put you back in place.

I can’t just keep living like this you thought to yourself once you resumed to cleaning the potatoes Luda Mae told you to.

Be thankful you’re even alive.

***

At supper you tried your best to keep your eyes off of Thomas, only making small conversation here and there. He would listen, and nod, occasionally tilting his head to the side. Each time, making your heart skip a beat and your cheeks turn red. You blamed it on the weather and the soup.

After supper, you helped Luda Mae with cleaning the table.

“You know sweetheart, my Tommy might be naive, but I am not” she said.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to play dumb.

“Oh hush girl. I can see how red you get when you look at my Tommy. And I can tell he feels a certain way about you too”

You were so thankful she was old, because otherwise it would’ve been impossible not to hear your heart beat out of your chest.

“Just don’t break his heart”

“No. Never!” you protested before you realized what you just admitted to.

Luda Mae just smiled at you “you’re a very sweet girl. Go on now. I will finish here”.

And with that, you were rushing out to see what Thomas was up to.

You found him sitting on the staircase in front of the house.

“Hey Thomas!” you said, sitting down next to him.

He nodded to you, eyes softening at your sight.

“Did you have a good day?” you asked, earning yourself another nod. Thomas didn’t talk, but you did not mind. You’ve been around long enough to understand him.

“I can tell he feels a certain way about you too”. Luda Mae’s words echoed in your head, making you blush. Thomas tilted his head and pointed at your now very flushed cheek.

“I’m ok!” you tried to keep your cool “it’s just really hot still outside” you continued smiling. He seemed to take that.

“And since it’s so hot… say Thomas. Would you want to go hang out by the pond? I’m done with my chores”.

He just smiled at you from behind his mask and nodded his head.

***

“Oh come on Tommy! The water is amazing” you said, dress all wet because you didn’t care to take anything off.

Thomas tried to avoid your gaze, simply because his mama raised him better, and your dress became pretty see-through.

“Tommy? Are you alright?” you started to approach him.

Thomas lifted his hand, pointing at your dress. It took you a little to realize what he was trying to say, but once you looked down, a blush crept on your face. “Oh goodness”.

After he sighed, he took off his apron and handed it to you. You were swimming in it, and it was enough to cover yourself.

You knew Thomas wasn’t going to swim, he always preferred to hang out at the shore.

“It’s fine now Thomas” you chucked when he finally turned to face you. Both of you lay down on the grass, with you turning towards him. He was looking up at the sky, not seeming to notice you were looking at him.

“This is nice”

He glanced at you and grunted. This one meant yes.

“Isn’t it hard to always wear that mask Tommy? It’s so hot today”

He didn’t answer. But you could see him clenching his fists.

“I-I mean”

He turned his head to you, frowning.

“Sorry” you said and turned on your back. He turned away from you too.

“I just” just shut up. Don’t say it. Just don’t.

You looked at him. He was looking away.

With a sigh you decided that now was the moment.

“Whatever’s underneath that mask… it won’t change how I feel about you” you almost whispered the last part, but it was enough for him to hear.

Thomas turned his head towards you, eyes widen, looking confused and a little scared.

You just smiled and placed your hand over his. He tensed, but not for long.

“Even mama noticed” you said with a chuckle.

He looked at you for a while, and you were staring to get worried that you said something wrong, until he stood up, just enough to undo his leather mask. Yet he didn’t take it off, and he was no longer looking at you.

“Tommy?”

He didn’t respond, and while he was holding his mask up with one hand and his other was clenched in a fist, you were worried you might’ve upset him by pushing him into this.

“Thomas. It’s alright” you said, taking his hand in both yours “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to”.

When his eyes finally met yours, you could clearly see the pain in them, and something else. You could see a little bit of hope.

He sighed and finally let go of his mask. He was looking down, completely avoiding your gaze. You could swear his eyes almost popped out of his head when you cupped his face, got on his lap, smiled and called him handsome. His whole body tensed up at your words, almost not wanting to believe you.

“You’re so beautiful Thomas Hewitt” you repeated yourself, this time with an even bigger smile.

Meanwhile, Thomas was completely frozen. Were you making fun of him? But you looked so genuine. How could you be? Did it really matter? No. Not when your touch was so soft and you were smiling at him like that.

He finally snapped out of his trance when you kissed him.

He didn’t know what to do, but it didn’t take long for him to start kissing you back. It was inexperienced and needy and full of buildup emotions on both sides. His hands shyly rested on your waist, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, hands tugging at his hair as the kiss got more and more intense.

He started feeling your back up and down, while you pressed against him harder, earning yourself a moan when you brushed yourself against the bulge in his pants.

Both of you pulled away and just looked at the other for a while. Then, with a confidence you didn’t think you’d see with him, he pulled you into another kiss, holding the back of your head.

He worked on your clothes while you worked on his, neither wanting to break the kiss more than you needed to.

He then flipped you over and once he was on top, he stopped again, just looking and admiring you. Your hands exploded his chest while you kissed his neck, turning him into a moaning mess. He was intoxicated by your every touch.

Feeling his erection against your inner thigh made you moan.

“You can do whatever you want to me Tommy” you said while wrapping your arms around his neck.

He just whimpered, nuzzling your neck.

“It’s alright Thomas, I want you” you said gently stroking his hair.

He nodded against your neck before kissing you again.

You helped him adjust himself and before you knew it, he was sliding inside, both of you moaning into the other’s mouth.

The pace started slow, Thomas was holding your waist with one hand and using the other to support himself.

“Oh fuck… just like that” you moaned, nails digging into his back now.

The more you moaned, the more he slammed harder and faster into you. His face was buried in your hair, taking in your scent which was slowly driving him off the edge.

He was hitting all the right places, slamming into you so hard you knew you would have trouble walking afterward.

You knew he was getting closer because his pace became more and more erratic.

“Oh fuck Tommy, cum with me, please please cum with me”.

That was enough to drive him over the edge and with a few more deep thrusts he came, making your eyes roll back while you chased your own high.

Both of you stayed like that for a while, neither wanting to move. Thomas made sure not to let his entire weight over you, while you ran your fingers through his hair and planted kisses on his forehead.

“I love you Tommy”.

His eyes widened, and he looked like he just saw a ghost. The sight was endearing and it caused you to chuckle.

“I really do” you continued.

His lower lip twitched, and he immediately squeezed you close to him, making you smile even more. You knew he felt the same. There was no need for him to say anything.

***

The sky was full of stars as you made your way back to the house. Slowly, making sure not to disturb anyone, you made your way towards Tommy’s room. You gave him another kiss in the doorway before waking in, and finally getting to sleep in the arms of your now lover.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt image #thomas hewitt x reader smut #thomas hewitt smut #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt fanfic #slashers x y/n #slashers x you #slasher x you #slashers smut #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher smut #slashers fanfiction

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xxblairexxss · 8 months

Text

Swimming lesson

Pairing : dad!Charles Leclerc x mom!reader

Theme : Fluff

Words count : 1.7k

Requested!

It was your daughter’s first time in the water and she needed Charles’ help to overcome her fear.

Short one that is full of fluff since my next one is gonna an angst

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"Blue!" She squealed and pointed her little finger at the blue whale on her swimsuit while you tied up her hair into braids. When she went to her dad, you had no idea what Charles did, but she came back with a very funny-looking hairstyle that made your little one look as if she just got into a fight. Despite that, she was very satisfied because Charles kept on saying she looked cute with it.

"It’s a blue whale! Can you turn around?” She turned, facing you, and you smiled when you saw her little dimple, the same one as her dad, right on her cheeks. "You are all done! Go and get daddy!"

"Dada!" She skipped in joy and ran to get your husband, who had gone into the pool first to ‘check the water’, he said.

"Mommy! Swim?" She ran back to pull on your hand as you approached the swimming pool right outside of the hotel room. You caught Charles’ gaze, smirking as he saw you in the one-piece swimsuit, as if he had never seen you before.

"Stop staring at me. I have a husband.” You commented and dipped your legs in the water as your little girl followed your act. Charles cackled as he moved and got in between while being in the pool.

"Mommy’s not giving me a chance at all, right, princess?" He felt the little hand on his cheeks as she giggled, with no urge to understand what it was all about. "Right! It’s your first day of swim class. Stand up!"

She stopped tittering right away as Charles switched his mood; her little hands stopped clapping as she hugged your arm, eyes looking away from her dad’s.

"Daddy’s joking around, sweetheart. It’s alright." You sent an angry stare towards the guy as he chuckled before taking the little hands from grasping your arm.

"I’m kidding, love! Come here." He extended his arms as she cautiously jumped into the water, straight into his embrace. Charles had put on her pink, flamingo-printed arm and chest life vest beforehand to help her float in case she got in the water without anyone’s supervision.

She looked back at you and smiled, only when you grinned at her. She was scared; you knew it, but Charles had been wanting to send her to swimming class, but she needed to get used to the water first.

"Can Daddy let you go?” He kissed the flushed, chubby cheek before his grasp went a little loose around the little one, which caused her to freak out.

"N—no. Dada, no! No!" Her bottom lips were pushed forward while she tried to grab Charles when she felt like floating away.

"Okay, okay! You are okay, princess. See?" He tried to let go of her once again but gave in as she started to weep, his hands flapping to get back in his arms. "It’s okay! It’s okay, I got you."

"I want mommy..." She turned towards you, her little arm still wrapped tightly around his neck, as she started to sob even more.

"Aw, what’s wrong, love?" You picked her up when Charles brought her back to you as she clambered to sit on your laps. Her head moved a little when you wiped away her tears.

"Here comes a shark!” Charles came in front of you with his hands clapped together on his head which acted like a fin, causing your little girl to cry even more.

"Really, honey?" You laughed along with Charles and cradled your little girl’s head as she weeped in your arms. "It’s okay, sweetheart. Look! It’s just daddy."

"It’s just me, baby. Look. Daddy is the shark. There’s no actual shark in here!” He got closer and tugged on the chubby hands to get her attention. "Come here, sweetheart. I’m not going to let you go this time. Promise.” He clapped on his hands, inviting her to get in the water again, but she shook her head furiously and tried to cling on to you even more.

"I don’t want...” She mumbled against your chest.

"But Daddy’s waiting for you? I thought you wanted to swim with Daddy. It’s okay." You cupped on the cheeks and kissed on her head as she started bitting on her nails, still slightly agitated. Her eyes went on her dad, who was waiting for her to calm down.

"Are you scared?” Charles asked, though he knew what the answer was. He rested his chin on her fluffy little legs as she quivered in her arms.

"This much.." She pulled her hand away and pinched her chubby fingers to show how scared she was as Charles cackled and made her giggle in tears by acting like he was trying to eat the cute hands.

"But dada is here with you. See? Or do you want mommy to get in the water too?” Charles closed his eyes as you moved your hand closer to his face to brush his hair away. "Honey, do you want to get in?” Your hand that was stroking his hair was pulled into his as he moved a little further away to give you some space.

"No! No!" Seeing the way you scooted closer to the edge, the little one on your lap started becoming more agitated as she tried to get away. She even stepped on your lap a little rough just to get away, which made you halt and wince a little. "Mommy no!"

Charles wasn’t expecting her to go frantic. She didn’t even touch the water yet; it didn’t even reach your full knee when she went all anxious. She even accidentally pulled on your hair just to try and get away. Your neck was a little red from his daughter's belligerent attempt to get away. "Okay, baby—" He made a little jump to push himself out of the pool, seeing he wouldn’t be able to take the matter into hand if he chose to stay in the water and sat by your side as he picked her up, stopping her from tossing and turning in your arms. "Hey, princess. It’s okay, love. I got you. It’s okay." He mumbled the words over and over as she hugged him, one hand on his daughter’s back, stroking on it to sooth down her cries while his other hand was on yours. "No more swimming? Should we stop? Do you want to stop?” He asked once she stopped crying, guessing she didn’t want to go back into the water, but she shook her head, telling the dad that she still wanted to, though her expression was telling otherwise.

“But dada don’t let go.." She replied, hiccuping between her words.

"Okay, dada’s not letting go this time. Pinky promise?" Charles and you chuckled, seeing the way she struggled to bring out her little finger to lock with her dad’s. "There you go! Good girl." He brushed his lips on the forehead hidden under the bangs after the successful pinky promise before picking her up to let her stand by the side. "Daddy will go in first, alright?"

She gave a slight nod, her hand rubbing on her red, rudolph-like nose, which was put to an end as you softly held the little hand.

"Okay, sweetheart. Ready? We’ll take it slow, okay?” Charles extended his arms, waiting for his little one to brace herself. Instead of jumping her way in like before, she sat back down and plopped into the water, with your hand hovering on her back in case she freaked out again. "Good job, baby! You are such a brave girl. Can you swim to Daddy?" Charles was just a hand away from her, but he stopped drawing her straight to his arms after seeing her try to kick her feet with a smile this time.

"Dada, I can't.." The dimples on the little girl’s face faded away when she realised she was going nowhere; she didn’t even budge from where she was a second ago.

"I’m right here, princess. Daddy’s right here. You can come to me.” He said, taking a step closer as she kicked her feet even more and grabbed on Charles’ hand. "You did it, baby! Good job! See? It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You smiled, silently watching those two in their own world as your legs flapped in the water. He always knew how to calm her down; it was as if he was born to be a dad that you often joked around by saying he used to have a secret kid with someone else because he just knew how to respond and act whenever she threw a tantrum or losing control of her emotions.

"Honey, are you okay?” Charles’ hand on your kneecap pulled you away from your daydream.

"Yeah? Yeah, I’m fine! Why are you asking that?” You looked to the side, checking on your daughter, who was busy playing with her ducklings by the side, her back leaning against you as her little chubby feet kicked the water at times.

"Sorry for freaking our little girl out. I didn't expect she would act like that.” He rested his arms on your lap while you played with his hair. The hair that looked like a shade of light brown when it got under the rays of sunlight, just like the hair of your little girl by your side.

"It’s alright, honey. She didn’t mean it.” You laughed, seeing his worried expression. He always got too worried about everything.

"Let me see?” You bended down, allowing Charles to see the side of your neck, thinking he was being extra apprehensive when he had a different intention.

"Charles!" You yelled out when the next thing you felt was his arm on your waist, pulling you straight to the water and completely drenched every strand of your hair. Right after you took a breath of relief, he earned a slap right on his bare chest. "You are so mean!"

Charles and you looked towards the little one as she giggled, both hands filled with her small ducks. "Daddy mean!"

"Right, baby?! I thought Dada actually cared about me.” You rolled your eyes, feet moved further from trying to get away from him, but he moved his arms on your waist, legs got in between yours.

"I’m sorry, baby! Are you sulking? He laughed, lips went to trail kisses on your jaw with your face tilted away. "I’m sorry, baby. Can’t leave you to be the only one dry amongst us." He smiled, seeing the way the ends of your lips tilted up despite the little frown you had. "Am I forgiven?"

"A little." You laughed and pulled away when he caught your lips with his.

“Take your shower with me. I’ll help you wash your hair—“ Charles looked to the side as he heard the sweet, adorable voice cried out.

"Ducky!" Your little girl pouted, leaning a little to catch her duck toy that started floating away while you went in front of her, afraid she would accidentally fall in the water despite the safety vest.

"Dada got it!” Charles grabbed it from floating further to the centre of the pool, and before he could make his way back to his wife, he saw the rest of the ducklings started floating away as well, making your little one whimpered.

"No, my ducky!" She stomped her feet, hands went into a clench fist, looking adorably distressed that she couldn’t catch any of it, but ended up laughing with you after seeing the way her dad struggled to catch all of them at once.

"Daddy looks funny, right?” You whispered.

"Yes! Dada cute!" She covered her mouth and giggled, her small palm wasn’t big enough to cover her dimples.

“Honey, I could use some help?” Charles looked at his wife and remarked.

#charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff

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diejager · 8 months

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psst! hi! are you willing to do a scenario where (civilian or soldier (your pick)) reader tries to run away and hide from yan!Ghost/konig

Failed Escape

Pairing: Yan!König x reader & Yan!Ghost x reader

Cw: smut, DUB-CON/NON-CON, spanking, fingering, kidnapping, training/mind break??, isolation, tell me if I missed any. Cw: 0.9k

König

Yan!König was meticulous in the location of your home, it was well-thought out and planned months prior to your taking. It’s a secluded cottage in the Austrian alps, between two imposingly beautiful mountains covered in green flora and cute wildflowers. A few fawns and deers would skip around your grounds, grazing on the fires and hydrated grass of your garden. It’s miles away from civilization, unpaved roads marking the way to the closest highway and other cottages within a mile or two.

Yan!König who doesn’t bother to install extreme measures to your home because you’re housebroken, trained into loving you house and fearing to run. It doesn’t matter if you’re a normal civilian or a trained specialist, his sheer size made it impossible to run or defend against. But if you did try to run, ignoring all the blaring, red flags that bellowed in your mind about stepping outside the white-fenced walls, you’d wish you could outrun him.

Yan!König’s ruthless in his punishment. If he caught you before you crossed the fence, he’d be more lenient with you. He would strip you down to your panties and lay you on his lap, hand striking your ass. He’d coo when you cried, his warm thumb rubbing soothing circles over your red cheeks, fingers dipping into your leaky cunt, his large digits hitting your spongy wall while you squirmed, his elbow digging into your back to hold you down.

“Look at how wet you are, Maus, you like this don’t you? You like being spanked, ja?”

If he caught you outside, your short legs failing to outrun him, König would be meaner, cruel even with his punishment. He has you tied and blindfolded in the cold and humid basement, bringing his gloved hand down on your naked slit. His slaps left your cunt slick and swollen, and you a crying and overwhelmed while he bullied his hard cock into you, fucking the anger and frustrations away.

“It hurts, Maus? This is your punishment, take it!”

Yan!König will have to spend additional time training you, utilising the wide arrange of tools in his well-equipped basement to help him train you. From different types of whips to metal and padded hand-cuffs, and from various sizes of dildos that fit the pre-programmed machine to a manual of torturous knots and binds to hold a person. König has all and everything to ensure that you’d be reeducated in ways of living and manners.

Yan!König doesn’t do this because he enjoyed it - perhaps a lie with the sadistic glint in his eyes - he does it because he needed you to understand how much he cared about you, how much your life with him was a blessing and how much you could be happy with him. If only your training stuck.

Ghost

Yan!Ghost wouldn’t let you catch a glance of the world outside the four walls of your prison. He has locks drilled into the front and back door, some could be unlocked by a key and others by numbered and lettered combinations. He had every wind bolted shut with the occasional sliding windows for fresh air if you needed it, but they were all too small to squeeze through and too high for you to reach with anything but on the tips of your toes.

Yan!Ghost didn’t buy a house in some remote area of the British Isle, he found a rustic house in a calm and safe neighbourhood in Manchester, a pretty two-story home with a basement and newly-painted white fences around the house. Most neighbours were quiet and kept to themselves, it was another thing he made sure of before turning this place into a safehouse for both of you. He kept the house’s layout, but reworked the basement, building a third bedroom with a small kitchenette, a hotel-like living room and an even smaller bathroom fitting a single person at a time.

Yan!Ghost who stopped you before you can reach the door, his bone-breaking hold on your wrist, wrenching you away from the hallway before throwing you onto the couch. He was fuming, face red with rage and narrowed eyes, his tall, imposing figure seemingly bigger and damning as he loomed over you with clenched fists. He might’ve been cruel and demeaning, possessive in an erratic and sporadic way, but he’d never lift a hand against you. Simon wouldn’t stoop as low as his father did to control his life. Granted, he used degradation and intimidation, but never physical violence.

“What ‘ave I told you, love?”

Yan!Ghost would force you back into the basement, imposing all the rules and regulations he had when he first took you, his words became the law and his hands the chains. He might let you have a few freedoms in your prison, but he would always be watching, either from the numerous cameras he installed in in the basement and around the house to keep and eye on you at all times, or from his seat beside you, an arm around your waist and his face buried under your head.

Yan!Ghost suffered just as much as you were in these moments, having to subjugate both of you to this torture he played in the early days. Listening to you cry and bemoan your life before meeting him made his heart chip away while he shushed your pains, cradling you as he carded his fingers through your locks. Watching you flinch and stuttered when he approached you, his trembling hands inches from your shaking figure, red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks staring back at him while he tried coaxing you back into his hands to sooth your cries. It hurts how much you tried to escape his love and care, he was the perfect lover: gentle and patient.

“Why can’t you love me? Aren’t I enough?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs

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ghoul-bonez · 11 months

Text

~I Love You, I Trust You, I See You~

(Ao’nung x Fem! Deaf! Sully! Reader)

Summary: When the Sullys moved to Awa’atlu Ao’nung thought they were weird, knew they were weird. He took a particular hatred towards the older Sully kids, Neteyam was the perfect little follower, Lo’ak was constantly in trouble, Kiri was always off in her own world, and you. Just you. You seemed to always ignore him and never talk, but what he didn’t know was it’s because you couldn’t hear him.

Word count: 4.4k

Author’s note: This is the longest oneshot I’ve written at 4.4k words and 9 1/2 google docs pages… Sign language will be normal font, and bold & italics will be spoken, although I try my best to show which is going on.

~Masterlist~

I Love You, I Trust You, I See You

When people thought of the Sully family many thought of your siblings. They thought of Lo’ak who was always a troublemaker, causing chaos everywhere he went. They thought of Kiri who seemed so in tune with her surroundings that she might as well be Eywa herself. They thought of Tuk who was the youngest, still enamored by everyday life. They thought of Neteyam, a strong leader who would someday take on the role of Olo’eyktan after your father.

They never thought of you.

You who always seemed to be in your own little world. You who never had any friends. You who never talked. You who always seemed so attentive to the world around you, yet had no desire to join it.

When you were born after your twin Neteyam, a spike of fear had run through everyone in the room when you began to cry, but no sound came out. They feared you may not be breathing right, you may need your airways cleared. They feared something was wrong, and that was true.

When your parents or siblings thought about your family, they thought about you. They thought about how funny you were, always cracking jokes when there was a chance. They thought about how kind you were, taking a moment to check on everyone daily. They thought about how different you were than most.

They thought about you. You who couldn’t hear.

You always seemed to be in your own world, and that drew many away from you, they didn’t want to be friends with someone who they didn’t think was paying attention to them, and to be fair you weren’t paying attention to people most of the time. You preferred to direct your attention to the world around you, always keeping an eye out as you couldn’t hear danger coming.

When you had been caught by Quaritch and his men you had panicked, more than everyone else at least. You didn’t know what was going on, you didn’t know what they were saying, your lip reading was not dependable, and definitely not in english.

When your siblings arms were bound you couldn’t keep yourself calm, now you had no way of communicating, they couldn’t translate for you. Tears streamed down your face, eyes closed as tight as possible to try to calm yourself by blocking out the outside world.

When you felt your captor’s grip on your release your eyes shot open, looking around at the damage around you, multiple avatars dead on the ground. Then you ran, you ran faster than ever before in the first direction you saw.

You ran and ran, eyes trained on everything around you, and when you ran into someone and they grabbed you again it was like a shock. You let out a scream, the first noise anyone had ever heard you make. A noise nobody was aware you could make.

You turned to dead weight in an attempt to get out of their grasp, panic coursing through you again as your eyes couldn’t come into focus. However, the person dropped to the ground with you, pulling your face towards them and holding it still as you tried to thrash. Then they blew air into your face, and you realized you were safe.

When you were younger you would throw temper tantrums, as children do, where you would close your eyes to refuse to listen to your parents. Not being able to see them meant no sign language, which meant no having to listen to them. However your father found one thing always worked, blowing air on your face. Your eyes would shoot open, highly offended with your mouth dropped open, before you would sign at him, “Your breath is gross.” in retaliation.

You had never been more relieved for your dad’s stupid way of getting you to listen. Your eyes finally came into focus and you calmed down seeing his face, but that calm quickly turned into crying, sobbing. You couldn’t help but let out all of the pent up emotion inside of you, but eventually you calmed down and were able to stand back up, staggering your way home with the rest of your family.

Some time later when your parents had been arguing in your family kelku you hadn’t been paying attention as your siblings were, all huddled against the wall. You had been lost in your own world once again, not wanting to know what was being said as you were still processing what had happened earlier. You didn’t need anything on top of that as you feared it would make your careful stack of emotions you had constructed come tumbling down.

They had come tumbling down though as your parents announced you were moving, leaving. Leaving everything you had ever known, your home, your grandmother, the forest you loved so much. You couldn’t help it as you cried again, being held by your mother this time.

However as you thought about it you weren’t that sad. You had always liked the water, everyone not having to hear underwater made you feel more included, more like you belonged, and you had heard the Metkayina used sign language. Maybe this would be a chance to make friends for the first time in your life. Maybe you would be able to talk to people for once, nobody at home taking the time to learn American Sign Language, as your father had called it, like your family had.

One thing you hadn't taken into account was that they used a different version of sign language, but that had become very apparent when you first jumped into the water with Tsireya, Ao’nung, and Rotxo. They used signs you had never seen before, ones you didn’t recognize. You couldn’t help but feel a little beaten down at dinner, staying quieter than usual, not signing as much.

Afterwards your dad had asked you to step outside, waving a hand towards you as he exited the marui.

He sat down on the pathway, and you knew he expected you to join him, so you did. You sat next to him with your feet dangling in the water, looking out towards the horizon, refusing to look at him so you didn't have to have a conversation.

That didn’t last long though as he poked you in the arm, causing you to look at him offended, mouth open and eyebrows raised. He took this as his chance to speak, “You okay, kid?” He signed.

You sighed deeply, fidgeting with your hands before signing, “I’m okay, dad.”

You could tell he didn’t believe you, lips pressed together in a thin line and eyebrows furrowed, “You’re less talkative. What’s wrong?” He signed, proving he didn’t think you were telling the truth.

A frown came to your face, feeling like it was permanently there after the past few days or so, but you continued, “I’m disappointed.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprise and confusion on his face, “About what?”

You looked away from his face, instead choosing to watch his hands, you didn’t want to see the pity on his face, “We don’t speak the same language. I can’t communicate. Everyone else can at least talk to each other.”

His face softened, but you didn’t see it, “It’ll be okay. You’re a fast learner, so you will learn their language quickly, then you can make friends. If anyone actually wants to be your friend.” He meant it playfully, and you saw him laugh, so jammed your elbow in his ribs.

Then the conversation was over, your mom poking her head out of the doorway and saying something to your dad. He just stood up and gave you a look like he was asking, “You good?” and you nodded, “Yes.” back in return.

After your father’s words of encouragement you decided to work harder, learn faster, determined to be able to communicate with the people around you, and a few weeks later you were excelling whereas your siblings were still struggling. They were caught up on the differences of Metkayina sign language versus ASL but you had grasped that there weren’t differences, or similarities, and you would just be learning from scratch.

Even though you were doing well at it, working your way towards being fluent, you were worried about talking to the people, mostly because of one person in particular, Ao’nung. It was as if Ao'nung was determined to ruin your siblings' lives, and yours, but you didn’t know that.

You had seen Ao’nung’s attempts to cause hell for your siblings, nagging at them, laughing at them, and even trying to start fights, with Lo’ak in particular. Him messing with your siblings made you frustrated, but you weren’t aware of the taunts meant to make you upset, and laughing that was meant to make you feel like a target coming towards you from a distance.

The bullying towards your siblings had become more and more frustrating and you had begun showing your anger at home, being rougher with things than usual, and not wanting to go outside of the shared family marui.

It had been peaceful while you and your mom had been working on dinner, but she noticed you seemed to be far off, handling the food with rougher hands, “Are you okay, (Y/n).” Neytiri signed as you placed another fish over the fire.

You rolled your eyes at her, upset she was even insinuating something was wrong. In reality there was, but you didn’t want to admit that, “Yes mama, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” She had asked back, concern on her face as she looked at you closely.

You signed, “Yes.” Trying to end the conversation, but you knew she would just keep pushing.

You saw your mom think for a moment, her face scrunching up in concentration, “Well I am not.”

You frowned more, once again feeling like it had always been there since you left the forest, “Not what?”

She was frowning too now, “I’m not sure you’re fine. I see you isolating yourself. Even from me and your father.” She grabbed your hands, squeezing them gently to show her love in a little way.

Tears welled in your eyes, frustrated tears, tears that came because with all the stress recently they were the only way your brain knew how to process, to cope.

You pulled your hands from hers to wipe at them, “I’m sorry.” was all you could say.

She wiped the tears falling down your face before saying, “Why?”

You sniffled, running your hands down your face before signing, “I see Lo’ak, Kiri, and Neteyam being picked on, and there is nothing I can do. I can’t stand up to the bullies. I can’t say anything.”

“Okay, well soon you will be able to say something. You are learning their sign language, yes? I’ve heard from your siblings you are out working them.” She smiled at you and you could really see how proud of you she was.

You couldn’t help but crack a little smile although tears still threatened to fall, “Yes, mama. I’m getting better, but I’m worried it will be too late though.”

“I’m sure you will do your best, my ‘ite.” She thought for a second, “Why don’t you go try to talk to these kids tomorrow?”

You sighed, you didn’t want to, but you knew your mom would nag you until you agreed, “Okay. Love you.”

She smiled lovingly at you, “Love you too.” before pulling you into a hug.

When tomorrow came you didn’t even want to leave your marui, but you found the strength to do so. You did some of the breathing exercises Tsireya had taught you to try to calm your nerves, and they worked for the most part, steadying you and clearing your head.

However as soon as you stepped outside your marui you regretted it, not wanting to do what you had promised to your mother, but you knew you had to eventually. Eventually, which meant you could fool around as long as you wanted beforehand, and so you decided to settle down for a quick nap on the beach.

When you laid down and closed your eyes you quickly and easily fell asleep. You were still tired from last night when you struggled to sleep from your anxious thoughts.

When the Sullys moved to Awa’atlu Ao’nung thought they were weird, knew they were weird. He took a particular hatred towards the older Sully kids, Neteyam was the perfect little follower, Lo’ak was constantly in trouble, Kiri was always off in her own world, and you. Just you. You seemed to always ignore him and never talk, but what he didn’t know was that it's because you couldn’t hear him.

Ao’nung tried to not let anything get to him, especially when it came to people he didn’t like, like the Sullys, but for some reason you, (Y/n) Sully, had peeved him more than anyone or anything else. He had grown tired of you ignoring him when he shouted or laughed at you, like you didn’t even notice he was there, tired of you flat out avoiding him sometimes as you scurried away when he tried to approach you.

Of course he knew why, he had the same intentions to bully you and make you feel unwanted in Awa’atlu as your siblings. Of course you didn’t want this so you spent most of your time avoiding him, but for some reason instead of him not caring about it, it made him want to get under your skin even more.

When the sun rose today he decided today was the day to act. Today he would confront you head on, face to face. He would make you notice him, and he would make you feel awful in the process. So he gathered his friends, his goons, and they set off to find you.

They first checked with Tsireya who was with the rest of your siblings, but you were nowhere to be found, they all insisted they hadn’t seen you. Then they combed the beach, going from one end to the other, and on the far end they found you peacefully asleep on the soft sand.

He couldn’t help but notice how cute you looked asleep and peaceful, but he quickly shook it off, shouting at you, “Wake up, freak!”

He was targeting your extra finger and the hair above your eyebrows, like he had your siblings because he knew that got to them, and hoped it would do the same to you.

When you didn’t stir he tried shouting again, assuming you were awake, but trying to act asleep to avoid him, “What is wrong with you? Do you not care or are you stupid avoiding me?”

His friends laughed at you when you still didn’t move, eyes not cracking open and your breathing staying the same, so he took the next step, trying something physical. He kicked sand up and over you and finally you stirred, sitting straight up and looking around for the source of the sand, and when you saw him your heart dropped, a lump forming in your throat.

“There we go, now you are paying attention.” He snickered.

You tried to read his lips, but he spoke too fast, and you just stayed silent. You cocked your head to the side, eyebrows drawn together in a look of confusion.

You hesitated for a second, but were about to sign something when he spoke again. “Do you not speak? A silent freak, interesting.” You still didn’t understand exactly what he was saying, but his friends all laughed at you, and although you couldn’t hear it it made you feel small.

“I’m sorry. I can not hear you.” You signed, using Metkayina sign language this time.

He scoffed, “I do not believe that. I think you just don’t want us to bother you, but here we are.” He laughed in your face.

“Please use your hands.” You tried to communicate, but they just wouldn’t listen to you.

“No.” He sneered, this you understood, one single word.

Your mouth dropped open, offense written all over it. You knew he was disrespectful, didn’t care about others feelings, but you would make him care, “I can not hear. I am deaf.”

He was about to retort against you again, but when he had been searching for you earlier that day Neteyam knew he meant trouble, so when he found you he stayed in the shadows, watching, but now Ao’nung had taken it too far.

He surged forwards, anger consuming him, “Step off bro. She can’t hear you.”

“Yeah that is what she just said.” He rolled his eyes, “I do not care though, it is better if she can not hear me. Means I can make fun of her without her knowing.” He signed the last part so you could understand.

You shrunk back, standing to hide behind Neteyam. You tugged on his arm, “It’s okay.” You signed.

“It’s not okay, (Y/n).” He rubbed a hand down his face, turning to Ao’nung, “You need to leave her alone.”

“Whatever.” Ao’nung scoffed before turning and walking away.

Now he knew why you seemed to ignore him, you just didn’t know he was talking to you. You were probably avoiding him because you didn’t know their sign language yet. He felt bad for some reason. He usually wouldn’t feel bad about his bullying but with you it felt different now knowing this.

He couldn’t show his feelings though, worried about his little group making fun of him, but he slowly started to back off of you, and your siblings some as well. Whenever one of his “friends” would ask why, he would reply something like “We can not make fun of a cripple.” and roll his eyes, still a jab at you, but less so.

At some point you became all that consumed his thoughts, on his mind at all times, and whenever he would see you with his sister, or your siblings, he would feel the need to insert himself into the conversation, but he always refrained. He wanted to talk to you, to apologize, but he feared judgment from his “friends” who are just as nasty as he was.

Eventually he couldn’t hold it in anymore, heading to your marui to ask to talk with you, in the way you would understand. When he knocked on the doorway of the family home Lo’ak was the first to notice him, glaring at him and nudging Neteyam in the side, directing his attention towards Ao’nung.

Neteyam stood before either of his parents even noticed the boy in the doorway, stalking over to him and dragging him down the pathway so they could talk, “What do you want?” He hissed out.

Ao’nung cleared his throat, but the words still came out small, nervous, “I came to apologize to (Y/n)...”

“No.” Was all Neteyam said before turning away and starting to walk back into the Sully family’s home.

Ao’nung grabbed his arm before he got too far away, “Please. Please let me talk to her.” He begged, something he didn’t like to do, but it was necessary.

Neteyam sighed, “Fine, but if you do anything I will chop your head off myself.” He threatened the boy, “I’ll go get her.”

It wasn’t long before you stepped out of the marui, a frown on your face and hands he could see shaking, “What do you want?” You signed, hands shaking with nerves.

“I came to say sorry.” He started off, “I’m sorry for bullying you, and your siblings. I promise I won’t do it any more.”

“And?” You asked, knowing there was more.

He looked nervous now, hands shaking as he signed, “I wanted to extend the offer of friendship.”

You looked shocked now, “You want to be friends with me?”

He nodded his head, smiling shyly, “Yes. Absolutely.”

You smiled this time, relieved he would be leaving your siblings alone, and excited to learn more about him, about what he was really like under the bad boy shell, “Okay, friend.”

He just nodded at you, “I have to go now. See you at lessons with Tsireya tomorrow?”

“Of course.” You responded.

When you entered the marui again everyone's eyes were on you, a light blush on your face, “I made a friend.” You smiled.

You could see your parents cheering and clapping for you, but your siblings' faces were unsure, you would have to reassure them later but for now you were all having a family night, playing games and handing out things you had made for each other with the new resources you were getting used to using. They were clunky and awkward, but you would get better, it reminded you of something, of someone.

As days passed into weeks you and Ao’nung had grown closer, him pretty much taking over your lessons, stealing you away from Tsireya who was sad to see you go, but happy for her brother for making a friend, a real friend, not one of his goons that tended to hover around him at all times. You had seemingly broken down his bad boy aesthetic and his goons had since left him, moving onto another leader to follow, still as nasty as ever.

You were grateful for him letting his walls down around you, allowing you to see him, and soon you did. You saw him as more than you ever had before. You couldn’t help but think about courting him, of trading little handmade gifts, and sharing little intimate moments of happiness throughout the day.

It seemed as if he wanted the same as he began bringing you gifts, starting as a little armband he made from you out of hard to find shells he had spent many hours trying to find, then it moved onto necklaces and bracelets. Each was more intricate than the last.

When this started you began to bring him things too, poorly made things because using dried seaweed and palm leaves were different from the materials of the jungle, but you managed. Even though they weren’t the best quality he proudly wore them, gladly accepting every gift you would give.

Everyone had noticed by now, the traded jewelry, the touches that lingered a little too long, and the longing looks when you weren’t together. What baffled people most however was not Ao’nung’s seemingly peaceful side coming out, but the fact that neither of you had officially come out and asked if you were courting.

You were courting, you both knew that, but Ao’nung wanted to put it into words, he wanted to make it official, but he felt the need to fix a couple things first, to get a couple blessings.

So he went to the person he thought would be easiest first, your mom. She had seen you two from afar and already had talked to you about it, encouraging you to pursue him and get what you wanted. She had said she was not Tsahík, but Eywa had shown her signs. So when Ao’nung asked she immediately gave him her blessing, knowing this was something not just he wanted, but something you wanted too.

Then he went to your dad. He was a fierce warrior who commanded respect, and Ao’nung tried his best to be respectful, carefully wording his proposal of courting his daughter. Of course Jake had been hesitant at first, but eventually he caved after Ao’nung had mentioned he already had Neytiri’s blessing.

Finally he went to Neteyam, your twin brother, your best friend since birth. Neteyam was adamantly against it, wanting nothing to do with Ao’nung, and wanting his sister to have nothing to do with him either. He was still on the edge of forgiving Ao’nung, swaying over a cliff where falling meant forgiving Ao’nung for his wrong doings, and when Ao’nung explained his love for you, his intentions to never hurt you and treat you with the respect you deserve Neteyam fell over the cliff, giving the Metkayina boy his blessing.

Once he had gotten their blessings he had invited you to the beach where he had first intentionally seeked you out. You were hesitant to go back there with him, but you gave in, trusting him wholeheartedly.

You love him. You trust him. You see him.

When you got there he pulled you to sit down with him, you both facing each other, and he signed, letting his heart out, letting his feelings show, “I am sorry for any times I have hurt you. I was an ass and a fool, and I wish I had never caused you upset or harm. I am sorry for bullying your siblings too, they did not deserve it, but I was scared by the new people and what they would bring. I now see I should have helped like my sister. I should have been making you feel at home here, not doing the opposite.”

“It’s okay. We’re past that.” You reassured him.

He nodded, continuing, “Now I see how special you are. I see how much you’ve changed me and my views on life. I am grateful for the person you have shaped me into. I am grateful I got the chance to make it up to you. I want to court you. Officially.”

You felt your heart swell, butterflies in your stomach, and you were sure it was showing on your face, “I would love that.”

You moved your hands carefully to cup his face, holding it there as you looked into his eyes, hoping he understood how grateful you were for him too, then you pulled him in, lips brushing against each other before they fully made contact. It was magical, unlike anything you had felt before, and you were happy it was him making you feel this way. So happy, so loved.

When you pulled apart he smiled widely at you, grabbing your hands and giving them a gentle but tight squeeze before using them to say, “I see you. I see you.”

You sign your thoughts from earlier, “I love you, I trust you, I see you.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just smiles, and pulls you back in for another kiss, and you feel at peace. You know he is yours, and you are his. You know he will never leave you, and you will never leave him. You know he loves you, and you love him. You know he sees you, and you see him.

Word Bank:

Olo’eyktan (Clan leader)

Kelku (Omatikaya homes)

Metkayina (Ocean Na’vi)

Marui (Metkayina homes)

‘Ite (Daughter)

Awa’atlu (Metkayina village)

Tsahík (Spiritual leader)

Eywa (Na’vi Goddess)

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skyahri · 1 month

Text

Arranged Marriage |Zuko X Reader| HC

Summary: Caught up in his personal conflict, Zuko completely neglects his marriage.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, forced marriage, whatever. Mentions of violence. Angsty Zuko and reader. Fem pronouns.

- - - - -

You'd married Zuko a little over a year into his reign as Fire Lord. You're the oldest daughter from a noble family, and the council decided it was best if Zuko married someone well liked by the community.

He didn't take it well. He was still hoping Mai would come back to him, and you being there completely obliterated those chances.

Not that there was a shot to begin with. Mai had made it abundantly clear that she wanted nothing to do with Zuko, even if she admitted to still having feelings for him.

Your relationship was staged to be perfect in the eyes of the people. Young love against all odds sort of thing.

The marriage ceremony was beautiful. Your robes were elegant, the flowers were perfect, and even your soon-to-be husband was handsome.

Zuko was charming towards the guests, really selling the story and gaining a lot of trust with his people. He was awkward but personable, something everyone ate up.

But he wasn't like that with you.

As soon as the two of you were away from public eyes, he didn't so much as look your way.

You slept in different rooms and ate at opposite ends of the table. He excluded you from as many duties as he could, stating something about him not wanting to concern you.

Life in a palace was pretty isolating. The only people you could talk to were servants, and even then, your topics were extremely limited.

You'd taken to the gardens as much as possible. It felt nice to be outside and even better to see the plants and animals.

Tending to the flowers was one of the few things you were allowed to do without constant eyes on you. The lonely atmosphere felt intentional instead of forced.

But after a year of this, not even the newly budding flowers could heal your disdain. Your once bubbly exterior had been chipped away by the dread and disappointment that lingered in your heart.

You were truly just a shell of your former self by this point.

There was no change with Zuko. He'd made no effort to get to know you or even just not hate you. Any attempt you'd made in the beginning to soften the relationship had been put out the moment it left your lips. It seemed like public pleasantries would be the extent of your marriage.

You'd long given up on trying to befriend the older women who waited on you. They had no desire to be anything more than the people who got you through the day.

You'd given up on trying to sneak away with the kitchen staff to the market. They feared being held responsible for you, even if you claimed to be plenty capable of taking care of yourself.

All that was really left to do was to just stay quiet and look pretty. The sad fate of the Fire Lord's wife.

You'd been laying in bed all morning. It was one of the few days where nothing was planned. No meetings, no guests, no events- nothing.

Well, at least you thought.

"Miss Y/N, Lord Zuko has requested your presence. We must get you ready immediately."

They'd dragged you out of bed and stuffed you into a pair of your nicest robes. They're doing your hair up and rushing to cover your face in makeup.

"Why am I being summoned?"

"The Avatar and his friends have arrived. They were the ones to request you."

"I see."

It made sense. You had met the Gaang at your wedding, and they were everything you'd expected; kind, loud, and passionate. Just like Zuko was said to be.

At the time, they'd promised to come by often, but you hadn't seen them since. You'd heard something about the rebuilding of the air temple and having some unexpected issues arise, so they just hadn't had time until now.

You met Zuko at the front gates. His friends arrived just after, allowing the servants to take their things to their rooms. Without a word, Katara grabbed your arm and dragged you away with the other girls. You turned back to see the same happening with Zuko and the boys.

They pulled you all around the surrounding area. For the first time in a long time, the dread started to fade away.

You'd bought some new incense, hair pins, and seeds for the flower beds. They were small purchases in comparison to the others, who had gone all out with new clothes, trinkets, and a heap of spicy snacks for Sokka.

You'd suggested several times over the last few hours that it was time to head back to the palace, but only now that it was growing dark did the trio actually listen.

Just as you had begun packing up, a string of explosions started on the next block and made its way towards the plaza you were in.

Toph was quick to make a stone barrier, but that didn't stop the cloud of soot from staining your skin and clothes.

A group of men had emerged from the smoke and revealed themselves to be Ozai supporters. Not everyone was pleased with the fundamentals Zuko was running the country on, so rebels had started causing a bit of an uproar.

Katara, Toph, and Suki did their best to take the men down swiftly, but that didn't stop you from getting injured in the process.

Your forearms had been severely burned when you'd covered your face from an attack. Katara offered to heal you, but it'd have to wait until you got back to the palace where her spirit water was.

The trip back was uneventful. Some of the local guards stationed in the city had insisted on escorting you guys back, which at this point you couldn't deny.

Apparently, word had already gotten back to Fire Lord Zuko, who was waiting at the front doors of the palace for your arrival.

He immediately stepped forward and picked up your hand, letting the scorched fabric fall and reveal your burn. He did the same with the other and sighed.

"Please give us the room."

You watched as everyone filed out of the room, the guards towards the exit and your friends towards the south wing.

"These are severe,"

He cupped your face in his hands and tilted your head so he could get a good look. His thumb swiped over some of the soot on your face.

You were confused by his actions, but the pain from your burns created a bit of a blur in your mind, keeping you from thinking too hard about it.

"The others couldn't protect you?"

"They did what they could. I apologize for the hassle-"

"Why are you apologizing? None of this is your fault."

You opted to stay silent. You weren't sure what to say. This is the longest conversation you'd had in private since you'd met, and you were finding it hard to navigate.

It was silent for a minute. The vibe was awkward, and you desperately wanted to hide away from all of it.

His face contorted slightly, like he wanted to say something but couldn't. You didn't pry. It didn't feel like your place to ask.

"Why don't you head to your room for a bath, and I'll have Katara meet you in there once you're done."

You nodded and made your way down the corridor. You stripped down and opted to just toss your clothes in the trash. Between the ash and scorch marks, there was no saving anything.

The second the water touched your wounds, you winced. Tears pricked your eyes as you watched small bits of charred skin go down the drain. The pain quickly went from a sharp sting to almost mind-numbing. You sat down and let the water just run down your body while you waited for the brunt of the discomfort to pass.

In your hazy state of mind, you hadn't heard the knock on the door, so you were surprised when Zuko entered in much more casual clothing.

When he saw you hunched over on the shower floor, he didn't say anything. He moved to the side of the tub and went to touch you, but you weakly swatted his hands away.

"I'm not comfortable with you being in here whole I'm naked."

"I'm your husband-"

"You're a stranger."

Ouch. Harsh but fair, and he knew it.

"Look, I know I haven't been good to you over the past year, and I'm sorry. We can talk about it more when you're feeling better, but for now just let me take care of you."

Satisfied with his response, you stopped resisting his help. You let him wash your hair and scrub your skin. His touch was gentle despite how rough his hands were.

He never once made you feel uncomfortable. He was thourough but never lingered. It was almost as if this was a normal occurrence.

When he was done, he offered you a towel and left you alone in the bathroom to get dressed. When you entered your bedroom, Katara was on your bed, but Zuko was nowhere in sight.

"Just me. Sorry to disappoint."

"No, no. I'm glad you're here."

You sat in front of her on the bed and let her examine your burns. She positioned your arms for easy access and opened her canister. You watched the water glow and the skin slowly heal itself. It was amazing, nothing like anything youd seem before.

"So," she broke the silence, "Has he warmed up to you at all?"

You were surprised by her words. You weren't sure how much they knew or what all you should say. Last thing you wanted to do was incriminate him.

Sensing your hesitation to respond, Katara clarified her question.

"I know everything, at least, from his side. You can be honest with me."

"Honest?"

"Honest."

A small smile crept onto your face.

"I think you're friend is an ass."

"I couldn't agree more."

You told her everything; the loneliness, the isolation, the lack of, well, everything in your relationship and life. She listened, something you're eternally grateful for. It felt nice just to get it off your chest instead of suffering silently.

"Today was the greatest day I've had in a long time. I got to leave the palace and talk to people and for once it felt like my husband didn't hate me."

"Zuko doesn't hate you."

"Could've fooled me."

"He doesn't hate you. Just talk to him. I know he has a lot to say, and it seems you do as well."

Once your arms were healed good as new, Katara left your quarters and returned to her own. You'd crawled under the covers and passed out, completely exhausted from the day.

The next day, you took Katara's advice and decided to speak with Zuko. You woke up early, before the sun had risen and made your way to his room.

He was surprised to see you, much less in your nightwear at such an hour. He invited you in nonetheless, where you then entered and decided to sit on his bed. You patted the spot in front of you, and he hesitantly sat.

"Katara said we should talk."

"Okay."

Sensing that he wasn't going to be the one to initiate anything, you decided to get the ball rolling.

It was a long conversation. Zuko confessed a lot of things, mostly about bitter feelings towards life and guilt over his actions. He apologized for everything and listened to everything you had to say. He made a lot of promises to be better.

He stuck to his word. He began including you in anything you were welcome to. Dinners became more personal, and eventually, you started sleeping in his room like a proper married couple.

By the time team Avatar had visited again, things had visibly changed. You were both happier, and your once fake marriage had become real. You meshed into the group just fine, making the pseudo family that much bigger.

All thanks to a simple conversation.

#avatar the last airbender #avatar #atla #zuko #prince zuko #atla zuko #fire lord zuko #zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko angst #zuko fluff #zuko hc #zuko headcanon

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rynwritesreid · 2 months

Note

this is my first time doing a request and your work is probably the best i’ve read since i downloaded tumblr

could you maybe do an angst where spencer and reader are fighting over something she did in the field and he yells at her and raises his hand to run it through his hair but she got scared and flinched, maybe if you want to, have her run out and be gone for the rest of the day

i completely understand if this is way to intense or weird but anywyas tysm, happy women’s day🤍!!

A/N: I am so beyond excited to be your first request. Also I am glad you’re enjoying my writing:) don’t worry it’s not too intense or weird for me, I enjoy (idk if that’s weird or not) writing things like this. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you make more requests in the future my love💕

Summary: after making a mistake, or really a lapse in judgment, you and Spencer get into an argument. During the argument, Spencer’s moves some hair out his face, but this action causes you to flinch.

Content: mentions of DV, please do not read if that could trigger you in anyway. Fem!reader. Angst. Arguments. Fluff. Spencer seems like a bit of an dick, but he is very caring towards the end.

Masterlist|requests are open|navigation

You and Spencer didn’t normally fight, you had disagreements sure, but you both would resolve them pretty quickly. But this time, it was different. You had been, as Spencer had so gracefully put it, reckless.

Hotch had asked you to go check out this person’s apartment, there was no reason for anyone to believe that he was actually dangerous, but Hotch just needed to make sure. You had knocked on the door, told him you were FBI, and there was no reply. You tried the doorknob and found it unlocked.

Pushing the door open cautiously, you stepped inside the dimly lit apartment. The air was thick with the smell of musty furniture and old books. As you scanned the living room, something caught your eye - a glint of metal on the coffee table. You approached slowly, heart racing, and discovered a small handgun lying next to a half-empty glass of whiskey.

You were sure no one was around, maybe he had just left it there. But before you could properly react to the situation, a noise from the hallway made you freeze in place. The sound of footsteps was approaching, growing louder with every passing second. Panic surged through you as you realized there was no way out of the apartment without being seen. You quickly scanned the room for a place to hide, your heart pounding in your chest.

But you couldn’t find anywhere, and you didn’t have time to call for backup, or to warn the rest of your team, so you did what you believed anyone would have done in this situation and reach for your gun.

You gripped the handle of your gun tightly, your palm slick with sweat. The footsteps were just outside the room now, getting closer and closer. You held your breath, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come through that doorway.

As the man entered the room, you found yourself shouting out that you were armed and part of the FBI, and if he was carrying any weapons, he should place them on the ground. He didn’t respond, instead he seemed to laugh.

“They are putting little girls in the FBI now, huh?” The man's voice dripped with sarcasm as he looked you up and down, a sneer forming on his face. You tightened your grip on the gun, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto yours with a chilling intensity. "What's a young thing like you doing here all alone?" he taunted, his voice laced with malice.

You stood your ground, trying to keep your composure despite the fear coursing through your veins. "I'm here on official business," you replied, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands.

His laughter echoed through the room, sending shivers down your spine. "Official business, huh?" he mocked. "Well, sweetheart, you don’t look very official.”

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to let his words intimidate you. You stood tall, meeting his gaze head-on. "I suggest you cooperate and do as I say," you said firmly, your voice unwavering.

The man's smile faded, replaced by a cold stare. "Oh, I'll cooperate alright," he sneered as he suddenly lunged towards you. Instinct kicked in as you raised your gun, a warning shot fired into the ceiling.

The loud bang echoed through the apartment, a split second before the man froze in his tracks. He stared at you wide-eyed, realizing you meant business. Without missing a beat, you took advantage of his momentary shock and swiftly moved to restrain him.

With practiced ease, you cuffed, read him his rights and waited for the rest of your team to arrive.

You knew as soon as you saw Spencer’s face that he was angry with you, and you also knew that you were about to get into argument with him.

As the team arrived and the situation was under control, Spencer's eyes bore into yours with a mixture of concern and frustration. You could see the storm brewing behind his usually calm exterior. He didn't say a word as he observed the scene, taking in the sight of you standing there, gun still in hand, your expression a mask of determination.

Finally, when the suspect was escorted out of the apartment by law enforcement, Spencer turned to you, his voice low but filled with intensity. "What were you thinking?" he demanded, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the chaos of the moment. "I had to act fast," you began, but Spencer cut you off with a shake of his head.

"That doesn't excuse recklessness," he stated firmly. "You could have put yourself in danger. What if he had been armed?"

“What is he had been? Well, he wasn’t, and I am alive, I am not injured, so why are you bring what if’s up.”

Spencer's jaw clenched; his frustration palpable as he struggled to find the words to convey the gravity of the situation. "Because you put yourself at risk unnecessarily," he replied, his voice tinged with worry. "We're a team, and we rely on each other to make smart decisions in the field. What you did today was impulsive and dangerous."

“Really? We are a team, and yet no one else is shouting at me. And if anyone should be, it should be Hotch.” you shot back, your tone matching his intensity. "I did what I had to do to ensure the safety of everyone involved. If you can't understand that, then maybe you're the one being reckless by not seeing the bigger picture."

Spencer's gaze hardened at your words; his frustration evident as he struggled to contain his emotions. "This isn't about me not seeing the bigger picture," he retorted, his voice edged with disappointment. "It's about you jeopardizing not only your own safety but the safety of the team as well. We rely on each other to make split-second decisions that won't put us in unnecessary danger."

Your jaw clenched at his words, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within you. "I did what I had to do in the moment," you insisted, your eyes locking with his in a battle of wills. "I stand by my actions, Spencer. Sometimes we have to trust our instincts in the field, even if it means taking risks."

Before Spencer could speak again, he raised his hand to move some hair out his face, however, you flinched and moved back. “I’m, uh, sorry Dr Reid. I won’t do that again.”

Spencer’s expression softened at your reaction, but he also seemed confused. See Spencer Knew about your previous relationship and about almost everything you had endured, but he didn’t know everything. But your sheepish expression, and the tears welling up in your eyes were a good indication that he had done something to spark old memories up.

Spencer's features softened further as he registered the look in your eyes, his concern deepening. He took a step closer, his voice gentle as he spoke. "I'm sorry if I crossed a boundary, I didn’t mean to startle you," he said softly, his gaze filled with understanding. "You don't have to explain anything if you're not comfortable."

But before you could answer, your fight or flight response took over, and you just ran away. You knew it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but you couldn’t do anything else. Spencer just stood there, unsure of what to do, unsure of why you acted that way. You knew he wasn’t actually going to hit you, and he didn’t realise that him raising his hand like that would cause that type of reaction, but it had happened now.

As you ran through the corridors of the apartment building, your heart pounded in your chest, the echoes of your footsteps mingling with the rush of blood in your ears. Tears blurred your vision as you pushed past doors and down stairwells in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming flood of memories that threatened to consume you.

Spencer's voice called out behind you, filled with concern and confusion. "Wait, please," he pleaded, his footsteps quickening as he tried to catch up to you. But you couldn't stop, couldn't face him in that moment.

You kept running, your breaths coming in sharp gasps as you pushed yourself to go faster, to put more distance between you and Spencer. This seemed to make him give up on chasing you. He knew you needed some space, but he hated the idea of you been by yourself when you were feeling like that.

When Spencer had returned to the rest of the team, JJ asked where you had gone, and he just responded he didn’t know.

Spencer and the rest of the team had returned to the precinct because they did have a job to do after all, they kept texting you to make sure you were okay. Spencer, however, hadn’t stopped calling you, leaving voicemails saying he was sorry.

You kept your phone on silent, not wanting to be disturbed by the continuous notifications and calls. Each voicemail from Spencer tugged at your heart, his concern evident in every word he spoke. As you sat alone in the quiet of your apartment, the weight of the memories that had resurfaced bore down on you with relentless force.

Spencer had stopped calling you, you were unsure as to why, but you just thought he was giving you some more space. But as night fell and the world outside your window turned dark, a sense of loneliness crept in, wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional buzz of your phone as messages from Spencer and the team continued to pile up, unanswered.

But that had just become white noise at some point you heard a knock at your door, and you froze. The knock came again, more insistent this time, and a familiar voice called out softly, "It's me, Spencer. Can we talk?"

Your heart leaped into your throat at the sound of his voice, conflicting emotions swirling inside you. Part of you wanted to open the door and let him in, to seek the comfort and understanding he offered. But another part hesitated, wary of the vulnerability that came with facing the demons of your past.

After a moment of indecision, you made your way to the door and slowly turned the handle, revealing Spencer standing on the other side. His eyes searched yours with a mixture of concern and compassion, his expression open and vulnerable.

"Hey," he began softly, his voice gentle. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier. I didn't mean to trigger any bad memories."

"It's okay, Spencer," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "You didn't know. I overreacted, and I'm sorry for running off like that."

Spencer's eyes softened with understanding. "You have nothing to apologize for. Your reaction was completely valid given your past experiences. I should have been more mindful."

A heavy silence settled between you, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air. Finally, Spencer broke the quietude, his voice tender. "Do you want to talk about it? You don't have to face it alone."

As you looked into Spencer's eyes, seeing genuine care and concern reflected back at you, a wave of gratitude washed over you. Despite the pain and fear that still lingered within you, there was also a glimmer of hope kindled by his presence.

"I... I think I'm ready to talk about it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt heavy but freeing as they left your lips, carried by a sense of trust in Spencer's sincerity.

Spencer nodded, his expression encouraging as he stepped further into your apartment. "Take your time. I'm here to listen whenever you're ready," he reassured you, his gaze unwavering in its support.

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#spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction

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lustfulslxt · 2 months

Text

It’s You - Matt Sturniolo

summary : matt’s secretly in love w y/n, she bails on him and later realizes it was a terrible decision because it's him

warnings : very slight angst, fluff, smut

a/n : based on these texts (1, 2)

It didn’t take long for you to get ready and head over to Matt’s. If you were being honest, your nerves were wrecked. You felt so guilty for ditching him over a boy. Matt didn’t deserve that. He’s only ever been the best to you, and you were nothing less than selfish.

Sitting in your car outside of his house, you take a deep breath. He’s your best friend, you guys will figure it out. You shut the car off and make your way to his front door, deciding to knock rather than walk in as per usual. You’re not waiting very long when the door is unlocked and opened.

Seeing Matt feels like a breath of fresh air. However, at the same time, your guilt increases.

“Matt, I’m so sorry. I swear I wish I could take it back.” You immediately rush out your words.

“Why’d you knock?” He questions with a quizzical expression.

You falter a bit, “I-uh, I didn’t want to overstep in case you’re mad at me.”

"Come on." He says, nodding his head back for you to come inside.

He steps aside, holding the door open for you. You quickly walk inside, your hand finding his almost instantly. You can't help it, the fear of losing him urging you to bring him in closer. He looks down at your connected hands, his heart racing at the simple touch. He squeezes your hand tighter, pulling you up the stairs with him.

Your stomach flutters at the gesture, your mind racing with so many thoughts, yet nothing at the same time. You follow him back into his room, shutting the door behind you. He kicks his shoes off and lies back on his bed, beckoning you over. You copy his action before sitting beside him.

"So." Matt mutters, shooting a quick glance at you.

"About before." You start, a frown immediately pulling to your lips at the thought. "I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I was just so caught up in the fact that he was into me, I tried to do whatever he wanted to make it work. So, when he wanted to get together that weekend, I did. I never should've cancelled on you; I regret it so much. I'm really sorry, Matt."

He looks down at the floor, biting his inner cheek. "You really upset me."

Your frown deepens from his words, "I know, and you have every right to feel that way. I wish I could go back and undo it. You didn't deserve that. There's not much I can say, because I don't want to just give you excuses. It was wrong of me. I know you worked hard to get those tickets, and I truly am sorry."

"So, you're not seeing him anymore?"

You shake your head with wide eyes, "No, definitely not."

He gives you a small smile, "Good."

You squint your eyes at his response, before he's spreading his arms for you. You grin, crawling over and lying in his arms, squeezing for dear life.

"Any tighter and I'll explode." He chuckles in a low whisper.

You softly loosen your grip with a sheepish smile, "Sorry, I just don't want to lose you."

He sighs, "You're not gonna lose me, kid. Not now, not ever."

“I’m sorry, Matt.” You whisper, glancing up at him. “Honest.”

He brushes the hair from your face, staring down at you with a gentle look on his face. “I know.”

The two of you are met with a silence, but a comfortable one. Being with Matt always washes your worries away. He makes everything better without even having to put much effort, yet he always does. He gives you his all every single second of every day. You don’t know what you’d do without him.

“Do you wanna talk about what happened with your date?” He questions, running a hand through your hair as your head lies on his chest.

“I guess I just realized he’s not the man I want.” You admit after a moment of pondering.

“What does that mean?”

You turn your head, meeting his gaze. He has a curious expression and you can’t help but stare, lovingly. You’ve always found him so beautiful.

“I don’t know.” You lie, laying your head back down.

His hand moves around your face, grasping your chin to turn you back towards him. “Tell me.”

You’re so close that you can feel his breath fan against your face as he speaks. His bright blue eyes bore into yours with such intensity you find it hard to catch your breath. It’s like he’s put a spell on you. You’re suddenly in this trance and you feel the need to spill everything.

Your hand meets his cheek, softly caressing it as you contemplate admitting your truths. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for possible rejection. “It’s you.”

His heart starts beating faster from those two little words, but he needs confirmation. “Me?”

“You, Matt. You’re the man I want.” You finally say out loud, almost feeling a literal weight taken off of your shoulders for finally letting it out.

Matt feels like he's dreaming. He never would've guessed you'd ever say that, but he can't help the cheesy smile that plasters itself on his face. Your worried eyes glimmer at his reaction, hoping it's something good.

"Why do you think I tried so hard to get you those tickets?" He whispers, his lips almost grazing yours with every word.

"Say it." You whisper back.

"You know, Y/N." He breathes.

"I need you to say it."

"It's you." He repeats your previous words, making your stomach flutter with butterflies. "It's always been you."

Your lips turn upwards, flashing your pearly whites as you smile at him. Without another thought, Matt's hand tightens around your jaw, pulling you into him. His lips meet yours in a hard kiss, like any second you'll disappear. Your lips tingle from the feeling of his on yours, metaphorical sparks flying.

Your hand meets the side of his face, your fingertips brushing through his hair as your palm caresses his cheek. The kiss deepens as he slips his tongue into your mouth, exploring it like it's all he's ever known.

His hands trail down your body, squeezing every curve, making you softly moan into the kiss. He breaks away, his eyes wide and suddenly a lot darker than before. He swiftly flips the two of you over, hovering over you with one leg in between yours and holding himself up on his hands. He drops to one of his elbows, using the opposite hand to trace your bottom lip. His hand travels lower, closing around your neck in a soft grip as his lips meet yours again.

His tongue glides over yours so deliciously, humming into your mouth at the taste of you. You can feel his erection growing against your thigh, igniting a fire in your stomach. The desire that was put off for so long burns brighter, heat forming between your legs.

His lips part from yours, instantly trailing down your jaw and to your neck. He licks and sucks, nibbling the sensitive skin, eliciting soft whines from you that go straight to his dick. His hands slide under your shirt, gripping your warm skin, slowly moving upwards towards your breasts.

He pulls away with red, swollen lips, "Do you want this?"

"So bad." You beg, frantically nodding your head.

A smirk pulls to his lips as he continues working on your neck, letting his hands roam your body. They slide over your plush skin, gripping your boobs through your bra. You arch your back into his touch, heavy pants falling from your mouth. He pulls away and tugs at your shirt. You slightly lift yourself, allowing him to remove it, before he's pushing you back into the bed.

His bruised lips meet your skin in open mouthed kisses, leaving specks of saliva in his wake. Your skin burns beneath his touch, and you can't help but whine at the sensation, desperate for more. His teeth bite down on the skin of your collarbones, leaving marks behind. He continues doing this all over your torso, licking over said marks.

"Matt, please." You whine, bucking your hips up into his.

"Shh, I got you, baby." He hums into your skin as he pulls your bra straps down.

He nips at your shoulders, littering your skin with little bites and kisses. It's safe to say, you're drenched from his touch alone. You feel hot and bothered, needy for more stimulation at your core. His fingers grasp the little clip at the front of your bra, sliding it apart, freeing your breasts.

"Mmm." He groans, engulfing the soft mounds in his hands. "Always knew you had perfect tits."

His lips wrap around one nipple, tweaking the other with his finger. His tongue swirls over the sensitive bud, letting his teeth graze it, sensually. Your mind is hazy, and you're stuck in a daze as he repeats that action on your opposite nipple.

He grabs your waist, guiding you up to fully remove your bra, discarding it with your shirt. Before you lay back down, your hands are pulling at his shirt. He quickly lifts it over his head, tossing it aside, bringing you back into him, eager to feel your bare skin on his.

You bring his mouth to yours, feverishly kissing him as his hands continue feeling out your body. They travel lower and lower, grazing over the waistband of your pants. He glides over the fabric, moving to your thighs, squeezing the plush skin. You clench around nothing, craving to be filled.

He pulls away, eyes boring into your face as he gauges your reaction. His hand slowly trails up your leg, pressing into your covered heat. You close your eyes, taking your bottom lip in your teeth, holding back the sound that threatened to slip. A cocky smirk plasters on his lips as he works your bottoms down, leaving you bare as he pulls them off your feet.

He spreads your legs, admiring your glistening pussy on display just for him. The thought of you being just for him makes his cock throb with need. His fingers prod at your folds, your juices instantly drenching him with how aroused you are. Soft moans emit from your mouth as he slides his hand up and down your center.

"Need you inside me, please." You breathe, your hand latching onto his wrist.

"Are you sure?" He asks, eyeing you up and down.

"Please." You beg once more.

He nods, his hands immediately working his belt off. He unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down, along with his boxers. His hard cock bounces back up, throbbing for attention. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, your pussy clenching once again.

Matt scoots forward just a bit, getting between your legs with ease. He places his hand by your head as he hovers over you, holding his member in his opposite hand. He drags it through your folds, coating it in your arousal. He aligns himself with your sopping entrance, easily slipping in due to how wet you are.

"Oh fuck." You whine from the sensation, your eyes squeezing shut.

His breathing gets heavier as he slowly sinks deeper into you, filling you up so perfectly. Your hands grip his biceps as he bottoms out, feeling as if he sucked the air out of your lungs. Your pussy hugs around him so tightly, he's struggling to keep it together.

As soon as you adjust, he's slowly pumping in and out of you, pulling numerous moans from your lips. His strokes are deep and hard, yet slow and sensual.

"Been wanting to make this pussy mine for so long, fuck." He moans in a raspy voice as he continues thrusting into you.

He turns his head, kissing your wrist as your nails dig into his shoulder. He takes your opposite hand and intertwines it with his, squeezing hard. Euphoria overtakes your body with every thrust, eyes rolling into the back of your head from the feeling.

Your mouth falls open, lewd moans slipping from it as the pleasure builds. The knot in your stomach forms quickly with the way he's fucking into you so deliciously, leaving you clenching around him.

"Feels s-so good." You cry out, your face scrunching up in pleasure.

Your skin feels hot beneath his, it's almost hard to catch your breath. You feel a way you've never felt before.

"Tell me I make you feel better than anyone else, baby." He groans, snapping his hips into yours. "Say it."

You whine out from his words and his hard strokes, unable to form coherent sentences. "Feel better, oh my god. You, it's you. Fuck, I'm so close."

He moans at your words and continuous clenching around his cock, his hips sputtering from the feeling. He's been yearning for this exact moment for as long as he can remember, and it's better than he could've ever imagined.

"You're mine. All mine." He grunts with every thrust, driving you over the edge.

"Yes, yes, yes." You cry, as you come undone. "All yours, baby."

His mouth falls slack as he feels your juices pour out of you, producing a squelching sound with every pump. Your grip on his hand tightens as he continues fucking into you. He stares at your face, the way you furrow your eyebrows and bite your lip in overwhelming pleasure bringing him to the edge.

He lets out a guttural moan, shuddering as he empties his load into you, filling you up with his seed. He continues pumping, pulling out when it becomes too much for you both.

His hair slicks to his forehead as he leans back on his knees, watching his cum ooze out of you. The sight alone makes his dick twitch. Both of you are panting heavily, trying to compose yourselves from the exertion. You both lock eyes with goofy grins, instantly giggling with one another as if he wasn't just buried inside of you.

"I'm yours, huh?" You mumble with a dopey smile.

"And don't you fucking forget it."

—

a/n : shucksss, lazy ending i'm tired. not proofread, what's new? sorry for the wait, i lack motivation sooo much. anyways, hope it didn't disappoint. if it did, ig go cry ab it idk. smut one the poll bc we're all sluts, so that's what you got!

taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @mattsfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn @knowingnothingnoel @luverboychris @remussbitch @stunza @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @strnlsblog @ilovethesturniolotriplets @sturnolio-luvs @chrissgirlsstuff

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #the sturniolos #matt sturniolo #imagine #fake texts #matt sturniolo x me #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo

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lvrdrafts · 10 months

Text

Unspoken Apologies

Summary: You are in the hospital and you confess to Bucky the pain you felt during the relationship, but Bucky doesn't deny his true feelings toward you

A/N: I GOT 100 FOLLOWERS OMG TY GUYS SO MUCH!!

Part 1 Part 2

Y/N lay in a sterile hospital room, her body weakened by the torture she had gone through. The doctors had delivered the devastating news that the torture you went through had caused severe damage internally. They had said she wouldn't make it. It was a bleak reality that Y/N was struggling to accept, but there was one person who refused to give up hope - Bucky Barnes.

Bucky paced back and forth outside the room, his heart heavy with worry. He had never seen Y/N so fragile, so vulnerable. The thought of losing her was unbearable. He blamed himself for not being there sooner, for not being there when she needed him the most.

A soft knock on the door interrupted Bucky's restless pacing. Y/N's weak voice called out, "Come in, Bucky."

He entered cautiously, his eyes brimming with concern. Seeing her lying in the hospital bed, her breathing slower and her body more pale, tore at his soul. Bucky had always admired Y/N's strength and resilience, and now it seemed to be slipping away.

Y/N managed a weak smile. "It's so funny, isn't it?" she said softly, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and amusement. "All of this started because I overheard you in the bar, calling me clingy. I tried avoiding you and I wanted you to say 'Hey I miss your clinginess' " you pause holding back tears "but you never did".

Bucky's heart sank as he remembered that conversation. It had been a misunderstanding. He was just stressed and found you as an excuse for his problems. He wanted to apologize, to tell Y/N how wrong he had been, but his words caught in his throat.

"Y/N," he began, his voice choked with emotion. But before he could say anything else, she continued.

"I've always felt like I burdened you, like I was too much for you to handle, and this situation proved my point" Y/N confessed, tears welling up in her eyes. "I guess I just wanted to hear it from you. Am I really a burden to you, Bucky?"

Bucky's silence spoke volumes, and Y/N's heart shattered into a million pieces. The truth was revealed without words, and it was more painful than she could have ever imagined.

Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she clutched her chest, struggling to breathe. Bucky rushed to her side, taking her hand in his, but it was too late. The doctors rushed in, their urgent voices fading into the background as Y/N slipped away.

Bucky knelt beside the lifeless body of the person he loved, overwhelmed with grief and regret. He had allowed his fear and pride to cloud his judgment, to push Y/N away when all she needed was his reassurance.

In that heartbreaking moment, Bucky made a promise to himself. He would carry the weight of his mistakes and regrets for the rest of his life. He would never forget the sound of Y/N's voice, filled with hurt and longing, nor the look of desperation in her eyes as she questioned her own worth.

As Bucky emerged from Y/N's hospital room, his face etched with anguish, he found himself face-to-face with Sam Wilson, who had been anxiously waiting outside.

Sam's eyes widened at the sight of Bucky's devastated expression. "Bucky, what happened?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Bucky's voice trembled as he tried to find the right words. "It's... it's my fault, Sam," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with regret. "Y/N... she overheard a conversation we had, and I never got the chance to make things right, to tell her how sorry I was. And now... now she's gone."

Sam's expression softened as he realized the weight of Bucky's remorse. "What did she hear, Bucky?" he pressed gently, knowing that the answer would reveal the depth of the pain caused.

Bucky's voice cracked as he spoke. "She heard me call her clingy, Sam," he admitted, his voice filled with self-condemnation. "I was stressed, and I took it out on her. I pushed her away when all she needed was my support. I didn't realize how much those words would haunt her, how they would make her doubt her worth. And now... she's paid the price."

Sam's gaze turned cold, his disappointment evident. "She died thinking I hated her," he said, his voice filled with frustration. "She was the only person with me after-"Bucky pauses realizing he's all alone again, as if fate wanted him to be alone. "after Steve left me. She was like an angel who was there and and now she is gone because I was a fucking idiot" Bucky says kicking a trash can to the other side of the hallway.

Bucky's shoulders slumped, his eyes welling up with tears. "I failed her, and now she's gone. I've lost her..."

@marygoddessofmischief @specialsnowflake-gabbi @openup-yourmind @madi-is-kinda-lame @maddieislost @666yourmomdotcom @kentokaze @floralwslokicjand10 @vicmc624 @theroyalmanatee @kandis-mom @elite4cekalyma @sargentbarxes @milanaasblog

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader angst #james barnes x reader #james barnes x reader angst

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eymie · 3 months

Text

THE LYING KIND !

pairings: peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: manipulation, possessiveness, fluff (at the beginning), angst, smut, kissing, oral (m. receiving)

summary: coriolanus is starting to grow suspicious that you’ve caught onto his lies. now you have to get his trust back.

a/n: title inspired by duvet by boa.

You had found Coriolanus in District 12, in The Hob. His blond curls shaved, and his sweet expression replaced with a cold one. Until he had seen you. Singing on that stage, voice so sweet his breath caught at the sight. Your little twirls as you sung. His girl.

His victor, his girl, his bird. You caught his eyes as you melted on that stage. A smile engulfing your face, twirling again. When the lights dimmed and you ran to him. Your Coriolanus.

A night you snuck out, meeting him at the hanging tree. Your hands rubbing over his shaved head, missing the way his curls threaded in your fingers.

You'd take him down to the lake, your wet bodies rubbing against each other in the cold water. Enjoying the way his skin rubbed against yours. His cold dog tag tingling against your chest as you pressed together.

His soft touches in the field just outside the forest where it was forbidden to go. When his hand would travel up your skirt, teasing the skin of your inner thighs. His lips brushing against your own. When Coriolanus kissed, he kissed like he was a starving man and you were his last meal. Like he would die if he let go, like he'd stop breathing.

"You can trust me, Coriolanus." You'd whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours. He's hum, nodding.

"I know." He trusted you, and you trusted him.

Coriolanus was a possessive man, you knew this well. When you'd sing and men would compliment your voice he couldn't help but be angry, jealous, hateful. You were his, not theirs.

He hated Sejanus, he couldn't help it. When you'd laugh with him in the crowded rooms. Innocent conversations had Coriolanus biting back his insults. You were his. You were his. You were his. Those men couldn't have you, Sejanus couldn't have you. If you thought to touch another man your body would be the result.

He was a liar, you felt it. You could tell by the way he'd stumble over his words, make excuses. You knew he was possessive, that he was overprotective too. If someone was to threaten you there would be a bounty on their head.

He started noticing your reactions. The way you looked at him in confusion, or hurt. Then again, you were always a better actor than him. He wasn't the same sweet mentor back in the games.

He knew it was over for him when you ran into that room with guns. He blocked you off from the others, the yelling being muffled by the band and loud crowd outside. He knew there was no going back when he grabbed that gun and shot Mayfair. The way you stared back at him in horror, it was over. Trust me, trust me, trust me.

The Coriolanus you had met those two months ago wasn't the cold man standing in front of you. He didn't seem the lying kind back then. Now, you felt his paranoia, his anger, his crave.

Sejanus sobbed in the back of the room but all he could hear was your hyperventilating. His hand going to caress your face but you pulled from his touch.

You ran home that night, Billy and Mayfair bleeding out in that room. Fearing you were next. You clutched your blankets, sobbing into your pillow. You weren't surprised when the town was called to the hanging tree the next morning.

You stood in the crowd, waiting for your own name. Coriolanus stood up front with the rest of the peacekeepers, except Sejanus. You looked around for him until you saw other peacekeepers drag him up to the platform. Jabberjays repeating his screams for him and the recording that got him hung. The sound of Coriolanus' voice on the other end. Bobbin, Mayfair, Sejanus. You knew you were next, whether it be at his hands or the tree.

You ran from the hanging tree that morning, into a dark alley to catch your breath. You didn't know he had followed you until you turned around and saw him.

"You alright?" He asked, trying not to raise your suspicions or scare you. His hand reaches for yours but you pull it away quickly. "You don't trust me."

"I do."

"You don't" He growled, cornering you against the wall. You watched as his adams apple bobbed. His fingers wrapping around your wrist. "Don't lie."

"I wouldn't lie to you Coriolanus--" He cut you off with a hard kiss. It was different than before. It was aggressive, dominating. He was swallowing you words, trying to deter you from your suspicions.

"Are you going to leave me?" He pulls away, looking into your eyes that were holding back tears. He furrowed his eyebrows waiting for you to catch your breath and answer him.

"Why would I?"

"You were. I know you were." He held your chin up, angling your face to look back up at him. "After everything I've done for you. I'm the reason you're alive right now."

"You can trust me, please." You begged, trying to get him to below you. His voice was loud, you wanted to beg him to quiet down. He knew better than that.

"What did I do?" He yelled and you looked around hoping no one heard. The dark alley was empty besides the two of you.

You hated the way his voice still made you clench your thighs. The way that if he begged you’d still let him take you against these brick walls.

"Nothing." You whined, trying to convince him. His girl bruising against your wrist. His face was inches from yours.

"You were going to turn me in." He spat, accusing you. If he wanted to, you could be dead just like Mayfair, Bobbin or Sejanus.

"I wasn't!" You tugged your wrist out of his grip. Your words come out in a whine. You weren’t leaving this alley alive. You caressed his cheek with your hand, knowing he would fall for your lies. He has been the whole time. "I love you."

He was taken aback, backing up a bit from you. You walked forward after him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Let me show you that." You mumbled before softly kissing him, staring into his eyes innocently. You kissed his jaw, fingers hooking around his pant loops praying his didn't notice your shaking hands.

He groaned, his hand threading in your hair. He pulled you into another deep kiss. A kiss of relief, that he believed you. He felt hot against your touch.

You two had touched before, in the cabin by the lake when he'd dry you off. When they'd lay in the field or when he'd pull you back stage. He's explored your body with his hands, partially. Never being the one to purge your true innocence.

He didn't expect her to fall to your knees in front him. The dirty bricks probably leaving marks and bruises.

He almost went to stop her when you unbuttoned his pants. The sound of his pants unzipping as you looked back up at him.

“Can I?” She whispered, even though you knew nobody came near this part of town. You felt him rub the back of your head, your hair getting tangled in his fingers.

“Yes, yes.” He nodded, pulling your hair back a bit to look him in the eyes. Your hands pulled down his pants and boxers just enough for his hard length to fall out. You looked up at him and he nodded. He was longer than you had expected, his pre-cum pooling at his pink tip.

Your tongue kitten licked his tip, the warmth of it making him groan. The tip of your tongue running along the underside of his cock.

“Don’t tease.” He groaned, pulling your head back to look at him. He pushed you back down, forcing his cock past your lips.

You took him as far into your mouth as you could, grabbing at his pants to stabilize herself. His hips thrusted, his tip hitting the back of your throat making you gag around him.

“So warm— fuck, and wet.” He pushed your head down in his cock. You sputtered around his length, saliva spilling down his cock. “Fuck, take it.”

Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes. You scratching at his hip bone as he fucked your throat. You breathed out your nose, fighting back your gags. He let go of his head, you pulled off his cock gasping for air. You wrapped her hand around his cock, sucking his tip back into your mouth.

“M’gonna cum.” He whimpered, you heard it even if he tried to hide it with a groan. The way you hollowed your cheeks as you bobbed your head allowing him to cum down your throat.

You closed your eyes, tears now straining your cheeks. You heard him mutter at you to swallow so you did. Swallow his hot cum down your bruised throat.

“Good girl.” He stroked your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “I trust you.”

masterlist

#coryo #coryo x reader #coryolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #the hunger games #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus smut #coryo smut #coryo x you

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