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#i hope i drew the snow well
doodleodds · 2 years
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royalty & fairy tale au’s are meant to be mixed and u can’t change my mind
Late shuake week 2022 day 3 - Royalty AU
#shuakeweek2022#akechi goro#kurusu akira#I JUST REALLY LOVE SLEEPING BEAUTY OK#or well. i love the idea of 'sleeping curses.' idk why! they've always fascinated me#i used to be obsessed with aurora and snow white for that reason#and so here i am! as always! projecting this interest of mine onto my favorite characters :)#also for reference because i just realized how weird it reads: goro's gonna be in the tallest tower when he's cursed#that's why akira's got a reason to climb it. so. yeah#also in case you were wondering why i said 'see you tomorrow with more art' and then proceeded not to post for.....four days:#1) work decided that i'm going to be doing more hours so i now have very little free time;#2) i decided to actually try my hand at coloring again like an IDIOT and now here we are. sigh. coloring is hard#i was trying to hard not to just overdose on comic dots again lol & it resulted in this nonsense. me and my one very textured stone wall#ANYWAY lmao even though i missed like. every single day of akeshu week so far i'm still gonna be doing the prompts#just at my own pace! so. hopefully expect more art. soon. ish. hopefully not with another uhhh 2 month gap like last year lol#also quick fun fact since you made it this far in my tags! that second page originally wasn't supposed to be there!#i drew sleeping goro just cause i could and i was just gonna stick him under a read more but then i got attached lmao#and now he's in the main post! :D yayyyyyy goro#ANYWAY that was super long. thanks for reading & i hope u have a lovely day!!!!
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puppyluver256 · 1 year
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[Image Description: A black woman with dark brown natural hair is skating along a frozen pond or lake. There are clumps of snow resting in her hair. She is wearing a turquoise winter coat, blue mittens, a lavender scarf with a turquoise snowflake pin, pale blue earmuffs, grey-blue leggings, and pale blue winter boots with ice skates attached. Her eyes are closed and she is smiling as she is clearly relaxed while skating. The ground around the ice is covered in snow, and two snow-dusted bushes and the trunks of two trees are also visible in the background. End ID.]
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Not much to say, just wanted to show Holly skating :3
💖🐶 Check out my pinned post for ways to support my artwork, among other things! 🐶💖
~Likes are appreciated, but reblogs are preferred as they let more people see my artwork! If you have something to say, feel free to give feedback in tags/comments/replies as well!~
Pokemon and related concepts © Nintendo/GameFreak Holly Caldwell, the Cantessy region, and artwork © PuppyLuver Studios
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I am very glad the new aa Fangamer merch exists but will not get because honestly I'm so f(squeak)ing tired of just Phoenix and Edgeworth merch in the west.
And im broke.
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Also bc the poster is pretty old art so does that mean more old art will be released through Fangamer as posters???
Because please do i beg of you.
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obsessivevoidkitten · 3 months
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How The Elf Saved Christmas
Yandere Rudolph The Red-Nosed Deertaur x Gender Neutral Elf Reader CW: Painful Noncon, nonhuman genitalia, size difference, possessive behavior, possessive sex, jealous behavior, general yandere behavior, rut cycle, reader fucked big stupid, overstimulation, cum as lube, mention of musk Word Count: 1.3k (This is your Christmas gift from me, I hope you enjoy it <3)
It was one of the earliest years since the start of the Christmas holiday. Rudolph had just recently joined the other deertaurs that drew Santa's sleigh. Not only did he have the magic ability to fly like the others, but he also could produce a fog and snow dispelling light from his nose. He was perfect to lead the sleigh.
Well... almost perfect.
A week into December, he started acting out. Behaving aggressively towards the other deertaurs, secluding himself, and acting unusually possessive over the elf who had been assigned as his servant.
That was you. You brought him his meals and made sure he was comfortable. Normally Rudolph was very low maintenance and your job was exceedingly easy. He was always considerate of you and treated you very kindly.
But lately, Rudolph wouldn't let you out of his sight. And snapped at anyone who got near you, especially if you happened to walk by another deertaur. One time, he even looked as if he was about to stab at Blitzen with his antlers.
The reindeer even looked different. His normally kind brown eyes were more frenzied and dilated. The normally straight, soft, brown hair of his human half was unkempt. And his muscular human body was always tense.
The other deer-men knew what was going on. But it wasn't like they could get near you to tell you.
Rudolph was in rut.
And he had determined, subconsciously, that you were going to be his mate.
The other deer hybrids had gone to Santa and apprised him of the situation, but he chose to do nothing about it. Forcefully taking away a rutting deer's love interest could get very dangerous.
Besides, Christmas was fast approaching, and the fastest way out of rut was for Rudolph to satisfy his urges. And really, what was the comfort of one elf compared to the enormity of the holiday? Christmas was at stake.
In your employee contract, you had agreed to uphold the sanctity of the holiday and do everything in your power to keep Christmas safe and running smoothly. If that meant you had to be a cocksleeve for a deertaur to keep his head clear so he could guide the sleigh, then so be it.
But even Rudolph didn't know why he was so irritable or why he was so odd in his behavior towards you. Why the thought of you being near someone else or out of his side filled him with rage and anxiety.
You were completely distressed. Your boss was acting so differently towards you. You couldn't even return to your little hut. Normally, you would be dismissed at nights but Rudolph wouldn't let you leave.
Instead, you were made to sleep in his house and on his soft, low to the ground bedding.
One morning, about a week away from Christmas, you both learned why he was behaving in such an egregious manner.
Rudolph woke up before you did and something about the way you lay sprawled out with your butt up in the air and your pants slightly falling off. You woke something up in him.
All his instincts shouted at him to breed this elf that was presenting themself to him. To claim you as his mate officially.
Careful not to wake you, because he didn't want you to struggle until it was too late, he pulled your red and green pants and candy cane striped underwear down to your knees. Then he proceeded to lower himself over you until he was in position.
You were ripped violently from your dreams as extreme pain rammed through you. Rudolph, now at the height of his rut, had jammed in all in one go and with no prep.
Your tiny elf body squirmed and writhed in confusion and pain, the frantic struggles sending waves of pleasure through his cock which was embedded so well within you.
"Wha-what are you d-doing?" You squeaked out through the pain.
He didn't bother replying.
Rudolph's body was all you could see above you as his strong thrusts moved you back and forth below him.
The act was raw, instinctive, and possessive. Like your personhood was being fucked away by this being much larger than you until you were reduced to his property.
Screams for help barely escaped your body. They went unanswered. Even if someone had heard you Santa would have told them to steer clear.
You cried and sobbed, powerless to remove the brute who was raping you. Though it seemed he finally had noticed the cries of his partner through his rut.
He slowed down his pace, just a bit.
Snow elves were small but extremely resilient and adaptable. That fact, combined with a slightly slower rhythm allowed you to feel a bit of pleasure as your body adjusted.
"Fuck! You feel so tight! You're just so small~ Gotta fill you with cum. Gotta breed. Gotta breed. Gotta breed..."
You whimpered as the deer man lost himself in his carnal desire to fuck you silly.
He slowed down as he came in you, and you thought you could relax. You went limp, but before you could catch your breath he started pounding into you with renewed vigor, roughly pounding you into the bedding.
Cum leaked down your thighs as his heavy balls smacked you. The smell of his musk filled the air and made you a slight bit dizzy.
The seed from the first round of breeding had lubricated you nicely, and he slid in and out of you in a much more pleasurable manner.
"You take me so fucking well!"
Your crying and sobbing gradually turned into gasps and shudders of pleasure as over the course of the next several hours you came over and over until you couldn't react anymore.
You just lay there and take, completely senseless and overstimulated. Weeping not from pain but from the sensations of seemingly endless mating.
Finally he came in you hard and left himself in a while before pulling out completely. His dick left you with a lewd squelch as at least a gallon of semen dripped from your well worn hole.
For the first time in weeks he finally felt somewhat clear headed.
"Gosh, I'm so sorry."
Rudolph picked you up, cleaned you, and fed you. You were too tired to protest.
The deertaur was remarkably tender for someone who had just taken you against your will, treating you like a snowflake that would vanish under the slightest mistreatment.
It was odd being served by him for a change. But you were too out of it to really give it much thought.
"I'm sorry I wasn't more gentle. But I'm not sorry that you're my mate now."
He was still in rut, and every single day leading up to Christmas Eve, he made you endure an hours long breeding session. You smelled just like him. As if his scent was ingrained in you at a cellular level.
Luckily, his rut ended just in time for him to be able to complete his job, guiding the sleigh without a hitch.
You tried to escape while he was out with Santa, but the higher up elves informed you that you had a new assignment.
You had to live with Rudolph permanently to make sure he never got wild again. His partner had to live with him. If they took you from him now, even outside of rut, he'd go insane. And he performed a very important task by leading the sleigh.
You should have felt honored. Not many elves got to personally save Christmas.
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littledovesnow · 2 months
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a growing family | part 4
a/n: the finale!!!! i had so much fun with this mini series, i hope you love it!
warnings: childbirth (but traumatic), idk... hospitals? inaccurate medical stuff (i worked in a hospital but i don't know shit about medicine!!!!)
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
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Following a few Peacekeepers back to the train, you and Coriolanus talked softly about the conclusion of the tour.
“How did you like to see my old stomping grounds?” He asked, referring to the quick stop you two had made in the Hob so you could use the restroom.
“It certainly looks like the place that could draw a crowd.” You smiled, thanking the Peacekeeper as he helped you into the train.
Coriolanus walked dutifully as you more-so waddled down the aisle to the private car. “Are you feeling okay?”
He had noticed you taking more breaks while walking, discomfort on your face.
Nodding, you toed off your shoes and lounged with your feet on the opposite bench, letting your husband rub them once more. “Just ready to get these babies out of me. I feel like a beached whale.”
Coriolanus laughed, looking out the window as the train began the two-day journey back to the Capitol. “I’m sure they’re excited to be out in the world, have more space to move.”
You snorted, letting your head roll back and lean against the plush booth. “How long do you think we have until they come?”
“A couple more weeks, I hope. It’s still a little early.” Coriolanus chuckled as you let out a moan when he got a particularly rough knot out of your foot. “What are you thinking for dinner tonight, my love?”
You two continued the conversation while you both watched the trees go by, content in your last days alone.
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The following morning, you woke before your husband, smile coming to your face when you saw the Capitol’s skyline in the distance.
Slowly rising from the bed, you paused for a moment when the world went off-kilter.
You stood and walked over to the exit of the private car, moving into the dining one for something to drink, never understanding why your mouth was so dry when traveling on the train.
 “Goodmorning, ma’am. How are you feeling?” A Peacekeeper asked, soft smile on his face as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Tired. How about yourself?” You replied, eying the mug of coffee with envy.
You two kept a quiet conversation until the door opened once more, Coriolanus entering the car.
“You could’ve woken me; I would’ve gotten you something to drink.” He chastised, pressing a soft kiss to your head.
Rolling your eyes, you smiled as the Peacekeeper left to give you and Coriolanus some privacy. “Coryo, I’m going to be holed up in a bed for weeks in a few days, let me get movement while I still can.”
Coriolanus tsked as he looked over what would be served for breakfast shortly, smile coming to his face when you pulled his free hand into your own, fiddling with his wedding band. “How are the babies doing?”
Shrugging, you looked out the window as the snow-capped mountains drew nearer. “They’re getting anxious, certainly hope they’re both in the correct position now.”
Coriolanus chewed on his lip as he hummed in agreement, not wanting you to experience surgery if it could be avoided. “We shall see, you’re meeting with the doctor the day after tomorrow, correct?”
Nodding, you sipped the tea that was placed in front of you. “Unless I go into labor beforehand.”
The elephant in the room was finally mentioned, and Coriolanus’ frown returned.
“Coryo, you know as well as I do that there’s a high possibility we’ll become parents before the end of the week. I want as much as you do to wait until it’s safer, closer to the due date, but twins come early a lot.”
Nodding, the blonde took a long sip of his coffee. “As long as you’re all okay, that’s all that matters.”
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You woke to a loud screech, groaning into Coriolanus’ chest as the train stopped moving, stationed back at the Capitol.
“Good morning, welcome home.” Coriolanus whispered, voice hoarse with sleep.
“Good morning, Coryo.”
Both of you getting up, albeit you at a slower pace than Coriolanus, there was a small crowd cheering when you two disembarked the train, publicity-trained smiles on both of your faces.
Several reporters for the Capitol News had come to the station, vying for questions about the tour and wondering it’s success.
You sucked in a breath while Coriolanus spoke with Lucky Flickerman, keeping your face neutral as you interrupted the conversation. “Excuse me, Lucky, but Coriolanus and I have prior engagements we need to get to.”
Coriolanus sent you a look as you dragged him away from the cameras. He leaned down to ask you a question, voice soft to keep it off of the microphones. “What are you talking about?”
Looking up at him, you sent him a tight-lipped smile. “I’ve been in labor since four this morning. We’re going to the hospital.”
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You groaned in pain as your OB/GYN walked into the room, smile on her face. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing each other so soon, my dear.”
“Well, we like to keep you on your toes.” You grumbled, letting out a sigh as the pain dissipated.
“Where’s Coriolanus? I expected him to be stationed next to you the entire time.”
Laughing, you watched as the doctor put some bands over the bump to monitor the twins. “He stepped out to call Tigris and my mother. He should be back shortly.”
Moving to examine you, you looked on the monitor to watch the babies’ heartbeats.
Coriolanus re-entered the room soon after the examination ended, smiling at the doctor when he noticed her, though when he saw the tears brimming on your lash line his smile dropped. “What happened?”
“Baby B is still in a breech position, we’re going to have to do a C-section.”
At the doctor’s repeated explanation, Coriolanus was next to you in an instant, clasping your hand in his own. “It’s going to be okay, dove. You’ve got wonderfully trained doctors, the best in all of Panem, you’ll be fine.”
It felt like a whirlwind while you were being prepped for surgery, contractions getting worse as time went on.
Coriolanus stood next to you, wanting nothing more than to help take the pain away, willing the pain away.
“Mr. Snow, we’ll be going to operating room shortly. We don’t normally allow this, but you are able to sit in the surgery with us. Meet your children.”
You frantically looked up at Coriolanus, nodding rapidly. “Please, please Coryo. I need you, I can’t- I don’t want to do this alone.”
Coriolanus nodded, allowing himself to be layered in the sterile gown and booties, nerves skyrocketing as if he was the one on the table. “You’ll be okay, my love. It’s going to be okay.”
There was an oxygen cannula pressed against your face, IV into your arm, short curtain set up on top of you, inhibiting your view of the doctors at your other end.
Coriolanus pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, salty with the sweat still beading along your skin.
You felt the pinprick of a local anesthetic, the sounds of medical instruments being picked up and jostled, and the low voices of the surgeons and doctors birthing your children.
“You doing good up there, Mrs. Snow?” One of the surgeons asked, glancing up at your stats.
You nodded, too afraid to speak.
“Alright, let’s meet Baby Number One.” Your OB/GYN smiled, and a piercing cry erupted into the room. “Welcome to the world, Little Girl Snow.”
“A girl, we have a girl, Coryo.” You looked over at Coriolanus, ignoring the pressure in your head.
“We have a girl, love.” Coriolanus smiled, tears threatening to spill over.
You heard one of the machines behind you beeping more incessantly, the voices of the doctors growing muffled and distant.
“Coryo, some-something’s wrong. I feel- something is wrong.” You mumbled, words slurring.
Coriolanus felt his heart drop onto the floor at your admission, head snapping to the doctors who had started to rapidly soaking blood up, and he could pick out a few phrases from their rapid chatter, the words “obstetric hemorrhage” sending chills down his body.
“What’s wrong, what’s going on with my wife?” Coriolanus yelled, terror on his face.
“Mr. Snow, you’re going to have to head to the waiting room.” A nurse spoke, ushering him out of the operating room.
He saw one of the doctors pressing his fingers onto the second baby’s chest, while a handful of other surgeons and doctors focused on you, and Coriolanus had never felt fear quite like this.
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Four hours had passed since you were ripped from Coriolanus’ sight, four hours since he last saw his children. “A boy and a girl, Mr. Snow. Congratulations.” The nurse had said, smile on her face.
How she could smile in the face of a man whose wife could be dead, he’ll never know.
Coriolanus’ knee was bouncing a mile a minute as he awaited any news on your state, on the babies, on anything.
“Mr. Snow?”
His head shot up when he heard a soft voice call his name, and he saw a nurse approaching, hesitant smile on his face.
“Is my wife okay?” He asked, eyes frantic.
Nodding, the nurse lead him to a private room, away from any prying eyes. “Mrs. Snow is stable. She experienced a large quantity of blood loss during the birth, but with some transfusions, she is stable and should wake up shortly.”
Nodding, Coriolanus let out a sigh. “The babies? Are they- can I see them?”
The nurse paused, and Coriolanus saw a tick in her jaw.
“What’s wrong with my children?”
“The boy, I’m not sure if you’ve decided on names yet, but the boy will need to be monitored for a few weeks here. His lungs weren’t as developed as his sister’s, but with some supplemental oxygen and time, he should be a fighter.”
“My daughter, is she okay?”
“Would you like to meet your daughter, Mr. Snow?”
The nurse lead him to the nursery, motioning for him to sit in one of the rocking chairs. “Newborns do best with skin-to-skin, if you unbutton your shirt, I can place her on your chest.”
Coriolanus quickly undid the buttons, ignoring the nurse’s gasp at the few bruises on his chest from back on the train, and gently placed the newborn in his arms.
The baby was smaller than he expected, having never held a newborn before, but he felt enamored by her, by his daughter. Already, he was wrapped around her little finger, wanting nothing more than to give her the world.
“She has her mother’s eyes.” Coriolanus whispered, soft smile on his face as he rocked slowly in the chair.
Looking up at the nurse, Coriolanus asked about you, when you would be awake and ready to meet the twins.
“It’s hard to say, some mothers wake up shortly after birthing. Others, ones who had complications not unlike your wife, it can be a few hours to days before they wake. Rest assured, your wife is being monitored closely, and you will be able to bring your daughter to meet her mother.”
Coriolanus nodded, blinking back the few tears that threatened to leak.
He was thankful you two had decided to have the hospital facility to sign NDA contracts, not wanting his soft side to be released to the public.
“I’ll let you two bond, just press that green button when you need anything.”
Coriolanus thanked her, looking down at the small baby in arms.
“Welcome to the world, little one. You and your brother aren’t going to have to worry about a thing, I’ll make sure of it.”
-----
Coriolanus looked at himself in the mirror of your hospital room’s bathroom. The man staring back at him did not look like the Coriolanus Snow who was on the presidential election posters that were recently debuted to the public.
No, the man staring back at Coriolanus had greasy, unkempt hair, stubble popping up along his face, and bags under his eyes. Tigris had stopped in with a change of clothing and something to eat, knowing her cousin wouldn’t eat if it meant leaving your side.
The twins were recovering well, the boy’s lungs growing stronger with each passing day.
You were now Coriolanus’ top priority, you still haven’t woken from the emergency surgery and complications from days prior.
The doctors were unsure of why you hadn’t woken yet, speculating your body needed more rest than you let on, the tour taking a toll on your body.
Coriolanus walked back to the chair on the side of your bed, cracking his neck as he sat down and took your hand in his.
“The babies are doing well, doctor’s speculate we’ll be able to take them home in a few days. We have to name them first, and I know we decided on what to call them, but it feels wrong to sign the certificates without you there.”
The blonde man had taken to talking about his day, explaining things the twins were doing, hoping you would wake up and respond to his ramblings.
The only response he got was the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, the only thing keeping Coriolanus sane.
A knock on the door drew Coriolanus out of his stupor, tight smile coming to his lips when he saw Tigris.
“How is she?” The older Snow asked, dropping a small box of baked goods on the table next to your bed.
“The same.” Coriolanus croaked, voice raw from the nights he spent crying, hoping you didn’t suffer the same end that his mother did.
It was as if Tigris could hear his inner monologue, as she hugged her cousin tightly. “She won’t be like your mom, she’s going to wake up, and she’s going to raise those babies down the hall, and she’s going to be your First Lady.”
Coriolanus nodded, dam breaking as tears escaped his eyes, racing down his chin to meet each other.
-----
Two weeks after you had become parents, Coriolanus had to make an appearance in public to show the Capitol he was still strong, and he would be Panem’s next president.
He was sitting next to Lucky Flickerman, answering lukewarm questions and entertaining the premise that he was running on a full night’s sleep, not the coffees he had been all-but bathing in.
While the show was at a break, one of the Capitol News associates came over to the two men, serious look on his face. “Excuse me, Mr. Snow.”
Coriolanus looked over to him, Lucky frowning that his story had been interrupted.
“Mr. Snow, I’ve just gotten a call from a Tigris Snow? She said that you’re needed at the Capitol Medical Center urgently.”
Coriolanus felt the blood rush to his ears as he left the station without a single look back, commanding his driver to what had become his second home at this point.
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Footfalls echoing off the walls, Coriolanus’ eyes were wide as he turned the corner and entered the room that had become familiar over the last weeks, the room seemingly brighter when he saw your smiling face back at him.
“Love.” Coriolanus sighed, rushing to your side, kissing you as if he was starved.
You kissed back just as eagerly, only breaking the kiss when you felt your stitches pull. “Hi, Coryo.”
“Hi, dove.”  
-----
a/n: the end <3 maybe you'll see this beautiful family in some future fics!
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bellaxgiornata · 3 months
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The Devil at Your Window |1: Snowed In|
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 8k
Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty
Series summary: In the middle of a New York City blizzard, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen accidentally lands himself on your fire escape–quite literally. When he accepts your invitation to warm up inside your apartment, you're surprised at how well the conversation flows all night with the curious and attractive masked vigilante. He's intriguing, though what you find even more intriguing is his unexpected returns to your window after that night–and his flirting. But when it seems like you're not the only one beginning to develop real feelings, he pulls back and you're left wondering two things: Why did he disappear and who really is the mysterious Devil that you've inevitably fallen for?
a/n: Just a short collection of one shots that I'll update whenever the ideas strike. It'll be told in a style like Falling for the Devil but it won't get nearly as long (unless y'all end up loving it, too). I just couldn't deny giving us all the fantasy of black suit Matt reappearing at your apartment window and all the flirting, sexual tension, feelings, and naughty things that might ensue... The installment list for this little series can be found here and feedback is always appreciated!
Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer
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Picking up the steaming mug of tea you’d just finished making from off the kitchen counter, you cradled your other hand around the warmth of the ceramic and drew it towards your chest as you turned and headed back towards your living room. The small spot of heat against the front of your sweatshirt caused a shiver to run down your spine as your sock-clad feet padded along the cold hardwood floor and back towards your couch. 
It was freezing inside your apartment tonight and the blustering snow storm raging outside in Hell’s Kitchen wasn't helping. Thankfully your office had already announced its closure for tomorrow before you'd finished work earlier this evening. The snow had already started to dump from the sky before you’d even left the office, falling heavy and wild as it accumulated in a cover of white that blanketed everything in the city. It would have been beautiful if you hadn’t needed to walk home afterwards in the frigid mess–especially with the way the large clumps of snowflakes pelted and battered you in the face over and over, the cold stinging at your skin. 
The city was expected to get a whopping eighteen inches of snowfall minimum over the next twenty-four hours, so you were grateful that your boss wanted as little to do with making it into work tomorrow as you did, especially because you couldn’t afford to do anything but walk to the office. The last thing you wanted to do was trudge through all of that mess and slip on a patch of ice, inevitably falling in a massive pile of snow and leaving you stuck in damp dress clothes all day. 
No, you'd rather stay dry and cozy at home enjoying a lazy day off of work.
You were just hoping the power in your apartment building remained intact throughout the fury of the winter storm. You didn’t want to think about losing the heat in your building in the middle of all of this. Another shiver ran through you as you pushed the thought away–hopefully not something you’d need to worry about tonight. 
But since you didn’t have work first thing in the morning, you had every intention of enjoying your night. You’d immediately come home and thrown off your dress clothes before settling on something comfortable–soft sweatpants and a cozy sweatshirt sans bra underneath. Then you’d made dinner and cleaned it up fast before claiming your ‘spot’ for the evening on your couch. Which consisted of both of your blankets and the television remote while you binged a guilty pleasure show that you hadn’t had time to catch up on for the past few weeks. Tonight you were intending to stay up a bit late, cozy up beneath your blankets, drink some hot tea, and lose yourself in the plot and romance of the show before eventually dragging your tired ass to bed in the hopes of sleeping in tomorrow to make up for staying up late. 
Eyes focused on the paused television screen as you moved, you rounded the side of your couch while drawing your steaming mug up to your lips. You sipped at the warm liquid, reveling in it for a moment before you swallowed it down. You could feel it heat you from the inside out as a pleasant sensation washed over you. Your eyes closed briefly for a moment–it was the first time you’d actually felt warm today. 
Opening your eyes, you continued towards the couch and began to lower yourself down onto the cushions while trying not to spill any of your tea from the mug. Just as you were about to sit back down on the couch and cocoon yourself in both of your blankets, ready to settle in for more of your show, something outside the window to your right caught your attention. Your head spun in the direction just as a flash of black dashed past the window and a loud bang reverberated through your apartment. 
A frightened yelp slipped out of you at the sound and you clutched your mug tight to your chest, your heart thudding heavily in terror. Whatever had just literally dropped onto your fire escape had been large, especially with the sound of that impact. Sucking in a breath, you held it as you stared transfixed at the window, almost ridiculously terrified it would be some sort of wild animal–like a bear or a wolf–on your fire escape. 
Though, more realistically considering you were in New York City, you knew it was probably a burglar. Who else would be traversing fire escapes late at night? Especially dressed in all dark clothes? Except…that also seemed a little ridiculous, too. There was a literal blizzard happening outside, meaning everyone would be home. In their apartments. Making it impossible for a burglar to break into anyone’s place unseen. Plus, it was insane outside, what criminal would risk dealing with that right now?
So what the hell had just fallen onto your fire escape?
Another thought struck you soon after and your lips parted in shock at the idea as you blew out the breath you’d been holding. With trembling hands, you very slowly reached out, carefully placing your mug of tea onto the coffee table before you without taking your eyes off of your window. Gradually, almost nervously, you rose to your feet before taking hesitant step after hesitant step forward. Another sharp, surprised gasp flew out of you when you saw the dark figure sit upright on your fire escape, bent in half as if they were in pain. Which made sense, considering the fall they’d just taken.
But your body froze up instantly at the sight of the man dressed in all black bent in half and dusted in white patches of snow. He wasn’t a burglar at all. With the black cloth tied over his head and the form fitting shirt he was wearing, there was absolutely no mistaking who he was. You'd certainly seen enough images of him plastered across the media. 
The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had just fallen onto your fire escape.
Eyes widening in shock at the infamous vigilante attempting to pull himself up to his feet, one of his gloved hands holding onto the metal railing of your fire escape, you were suddenly overcome with the urge to check on him. To make sure he wasn’t seriously injured from that fall. 
Without thinking your actions through, you crossed the last few steps to the window and unlatched the locks before pushing it up. The masked figure immediately spun towards you at the sound as a bitter gust of wind burst its way into your apartment, chilling you instantly while those thick snowflakes once again assailed your face. For a moment you locked eyes with him–or at least, it seemed like you did despite the fabric covering half of his face–as your mouth hung open. You suddenly found yourself at a loss of what to say in the moment. And considering the way his lips thinned out along his face and the way he remained silent, he clearly wasn’t going to strike up a conversation with you, either.
Eyes darting down, you saw he had one gloved hand clutching at his right side as if it hurt him. His shoulders were hunched in on himself as his back faced the violent winds blowing snow relentlessly. Seeing him in person for the first time ever–something you’d never expected in your life considering how elusive the media made him out to be–you realized just how thin and unprotective his clothes really were. Especially tonight considering the cold weather. He had to be freezing.
An icy wind whistled loudly, another flurry of heavy snowflakes pelting you right in the face and breaking you from your thoughts. Blinking the snow from your lashes, you finally found your voice. 
“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, unsure how one should approach the masked man. “I just–just saw you fall. It looked like it hurt.”
He gave a curt shake of his head, wincing before he turned more towards the railing. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he replied.
Something warm flooded your veins at the gravelly tone of his voice. It suited him somehow, even if it sounded fake. Like he was pitching his voice lower to sound like someone else in order to hide his identity. Not that you'd probably have recognized him anyway. 
With his back partially to you now, especially this close when there was barely a few feet of space between the pair of you, you could see just how incredibly muscular this man was. His black shirt clung to him like a second skin, the toned abdominal muscles on his upper body clearly visible even from just his profile. Even the pectoral muscles of his chest were well defined and visible beneath the sheen of black. His arms were thick–far too big for just one of your hands to wrap around. And as your gaze lingered lower, you fought back the thoughts that entered your mind at the sight of how large his thighs were in those tight pants–and how pleasant a profile his ass also had. You wondered briefly if he'd gained all that from working out or if it had more to do with his nightly activities.
Though when you saw him grab onto the metal railing of your fire escape with both of his gloved hands, the movement drawing your attention away from observing him as he attempted to swing himself over it, you nearly screamed as you lurched forward. You lived on the fifth floor, was this man really about to fling himself off of the fire escape from all the way up here? 
But the scream died in your throat the moment he cried out in pain, his feet slipping from off of the railing as he fell back onto your fire escape. He let out a hiss of pain as he clutched at his clearly injured side.
“Holy shit,” you breathed out, shoving the window open wider despite the cold and snow and leaning further forward. “You’re clearly not okay. Do you need something? An ambulance or something? Is there someone I can call? Or–or something I can do to help?”
The man rolled off his injured side and onto his back, gradually turning towards you as he lay on the fire escape. You hadn’t expected the amused and pained chuckle he emitted while the snow accumulated on the entire front of him, lightly covering the thin layer of his black shirt. Which you’d noticed had ridden up, revealing a small sliver of skin just above the dark, form fitting pants he was wearing. You tried hard to not keep glancing back at that patch of skin as it slowly rose higher and higher, unsure why you were so distracted by it.
The sound of his amusement soon drew you back to the moment and you cringed. Why the hell was he laughing?
“Are you alright? Did you…hit your head?” you asked him cautiously. “Maybe you have a concussion…”
Another amused sound slipped out of him, but that was quickly followed by a pained groan as he tried to once again rise up onto his feet. “I don’t have a concussion,” he assured you.
“You sure?” you asked, an eyebrow arching onto your forehead as you crossed your arms over your chest to stay warm when you began to shiver from the cold. “Because this doesn’t seem like a funny situation to me.”
“Well,” he grunted out, wincing as he drew back up to his full height, “normally I’m the one offering assistance, not the other way around. So yeah,” he continued with a faint shrug, your eyes once again catching the way he was holding his side, “it’s kind of amusing. In an…irritating sort of way.”
Your heart sank to your stomach at his words. “Oh, sorry,” you muttered, heat rushing up to your face instantly. “I didn’t mean to be annoying. I was just concerned–”
He took a half step forward, cutting you off as he waved a hand between the pair of you. He shook his head, letting out a slight huff of laughter. “No, I didn’t mean you were irritating. Just…this situation. The–the snow and the falling part.” In a quieter voice he added, “And having an audience for it.”
Chewing the inside of your cheek, you stood there studying him for a moment. He was injured and wearing barely anything at all in the middle of a blizzard. He looked like he needed help even if he seemed like the type not to ask for it.
“Do you want to come inside?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. “I mean, to get warm and maybe sit down for a moment? I could call an ambulance or–or a taxi or something to bring you to a hospital.”
Another amused huff of laughter slipped out of him as he shook his head. “No hospitals, please. I’ll be alright. But…if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind a moment to warm up.” His gloved hand lowered, pinching a bit of fabric from his shirt as he glanced down at it. “Admittedly this doesn’t offer much protection from the elements.”
You eyed the thin material between his gloves doubtfully. “Doesn’t look like it offers much protection from anything,” you told him.
A surprised bark of laughter peeled out of him, the sound drawing a smile onto your face. You’d made the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen laugh. Now that was something you weren’t going to forget anytime soon. He didn’t seem like the type to break character easily.
“You wouldn’t be wrong,” he agreed, his laughter subsiding.
Taking a step back from the window, you waved a hand towards him, gesturing for him to come inside. “How about you come in so I can close this window and we both can stop freezing?” you suggested, surprised at how bold you sounded considering who it was you were speaking with. “I’m shivering already so I can only imagine how cold you must be.”
You watched as his lips curled up into a charming grin at the corners, just beneath the black fabric of his mask. It was impossible to deny that he had a handsome face–at least, from what you could see of it. You imagined the rest of it to be just as attractive beneath that cloth and a sudden intense curiosity to know what the rest of it looked like overtook you as you watched him carefully climb through your opened window. He moved slowly, wincing in pain as he made his way inside. Despite his tough act, that fall must’ve really hurt his side and you frowned, wishing he’d accept your offer to help. There was no way he was as fine as he claimed to be, surely he needed medical attention.
“Takes a special kind of person to just invite me into their home so readily,” the Devil’s rough tone came out as he turned his back to you, shutting the window after himself. “Normally people prefer to avoid me.”
“You’re not dangerous,” you replied almost instantly.
The window closed with a sharp clack before his masked face turned over his snow-dusted shoulder, his attention fixed on you. “Oh?” he asked curiously, a smirk growing over his lips. “I’m not?”
Your eyes were drawn to his mouth, though it wasn’t like there was anywhere else to look when you spoke to him with that mask covering most of his face. The smirk appeared teasing, and for some reason that had the hair on the back of your neck bristling. You suddenly became very aware of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra beneath your loose sweatshirt and it was now cold in your apartment. Quickly your arms wrapped over your chest, hugging yourself tight. His lips almost seemed to curl ever higher in response.
“I mean, you are ,” you amended, “but to, you know, criminals.” 
You swallowed hard when he remained still, gazing at you over his shoulder wordlessly.There was something almost predatory in the way he was studying you. It was easy to see how this lone man terrified the criminals on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, striking fear into them. He certainly had a presence. Goosebumps rippled beneath the sleeves of your sweatshirt at his continued silent stare.
“Right?” you asked tentatively, voice softer.
His smirk vanished as the other corner of his mouth curled upwards into what felt like a warm smile despite you being unable to see if it reached his eyes. He nodded gently, turning slowly back towards you as he did. 
“That's correct,” he agreed, brushing the snow from his broad shoulders. “I’m only dangerous to criminals. So unless you’re hiding any dead bodies or have some outstanding charges…?”
You laughed, though abruptly you snatched your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to quiet the noise instantly. He was witty and funny. You weren’t anticipating that. Or the way your reaction to his quips seemed to please him, like he was trying to charm you. Which seemed even more curious, considering who he was and what he spent his nights doing. 
“Can't say that I do,” you said. “I'm probably the most boring person in Hell’s Kitchen.”
“Well now,” he replied teasingly, “don't sell yourself short. I'm sure you're not taking that title  all by yourself.” 
That charming smile was back on his face and it had your stomach fluttering. Tearing your eyes away from him, you noticed the television was still paused on your show. Paused on a scene where the two actors on screen were clearly about to kiss. Cheeks burning, you hurried over and grabbed the remote from the couch and turned it off. 
“You can make yourself comfortable if you want,” you told him, trying to keep the embarrassment out of your tone. “I've got a couple of blankets you can use to help warm you up.”
His heavy boots thudded with each of his steps as he crossed the room and made his way to the couch. You bent over, grabbing both blankets from your place on the couch where you'd previously been curled up as he passed behind you. The moment one of his cold gloves brushed against your back, you froze.
“Sorry,” he whispered. 
“No it's–it's fine,” you replied. 
He passed behind you before settling onto the opposite end of the couch from where you had clearly taken residence. You forced a smile onto your face as you turned and leaned over, holding out the blankets towards him. 
Pull yourself together , you internally chastised yourself. Just because it's been a while since you've had a man here doesn't mean you need to react to every little thing. That's not what this is, obviously. 
“Thank you,” he said, accepting the blankets from your outstretched hand. 
You nodded before sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch, keeping space between you and him. Curling your legs up under yourself, you watched as the Devil wasted no time throwing both blankets around himself, beginning to visibly shiver beneath them as he tried to warm up.
“Are you sure you don't want me to call anyone?” you asked him.
“No one to call,” he answered. “And a hospital would defeat the purpose of trying to remain anonymous.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” you muttered, glancing away and spotting the forgotten tea on your coffee table. “Would you like something to drink at least? Some water or some hot tea, maybe?”
His masked head tilted curiously to the side at your question, a grin returning to his plush lips. “Playing hostess?” he asked. 
“Well I'm sure you've got to be thirsty running around Hell’s Kitchen and fighting criminals all the time,” you explained. “I always sort of wondered if you stashed water bottles around the city or stopped for water breaks somewhere–not where you live, I imagine. Since you're trying to keep your identity hidden.” Your eyes narrowed as you added, “Or do you just let yourself get dehydrated every time you're out? Because that's not good for you, you know.”
The Devil's grin grew wider as he shifted on the couch, facing you even more from his place on the cushions. “Oh?” he asked, curiosity in his tone. “You've thought about me before, have you?”
Eyes dropping down to your lap, you smiled sheepishly as you shrugged. “I mean, I've had some theories circulating about you ever since you kept reappearing in the news,” you admitted awkwardly. “Sort of hard not to.”
“Well now you have to indulge me,” he teased. “Enlighten me on some of these theories of yours.”
Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you continued to avoid his covered stare. “I mean, they're not that interesting…”
“Oh come on,” he tried again. “It's not like we don't have the time. And maybe I can confirm or deny some of them for you. Besides, I admit I’m curious to know what you think of me. Especially being so willing to offer help like you did.”
Chewing your bottom lip, you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes. He looked far less intimidating beneath your blush pink blanket now. What would it hurt if you told him a few of your ideas about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? Maybe he might laugh at them, but would hearing that sound again be all that bad? And it truly would be interesting to learn more about the mysterious vigilante, something you'd probably never have the opportunity to do again. 
“Okay,” you agreed with a nod. Straightening up on the couch, you turned to face him more fully. “So I've always thought with the way that you fight that you were trained by some sort of secret ninja assassin organization.”
A hearty chuckle filled your living room at your first theory. The pleasant and resonant noise left you grinning as your stomach fluttered in response. You briefly wondered how often the Devil actually laughed when he was out. 
“I cannot confirm nor deny that,” he responded. 
The playful smile that kept appearing on his face was beginning to further disarm you. You found yourself enjoying his company, soon becoming used to the way half his face was hidden from sight with that ridiculous fabric. And for some reason your unexplainable attraction to him was only growing. 
“Next theory,” he prodded, the smile on his face apparent even in his voice. 
“You're not wealthy,” you stated, leaning forward and grabbing your tea from the coffee table.
“Oh, ow,” he joked, playfully recoiling back from you on the couch. “What makes you say that?”
You waved a hand at him across from you as you settled back into the cushions, mug in hand. “Because you wear clothing that is obviously not meant to protect you very well in a fight,” you answered. “I imagine if you had money you'd have something…nicer. Meant for what you do. And,” you continued, pausing long enough to drink down some of your now barely warm tea, aware of him focused on you, “you protect Hell’s Kitchen. Only Hell’s Kitchen. This part of the city isn't exactly filled with the wealthiest people. And with how dedicated you are to everyone here, I assume it's because you probably grew up here yourself. Most likely still reside here, too.”
The Devil hummed appreciatively when you'd quieted, his masked gaze still on you. You swore you could feel it as you drank down more of your tea.
“You're observant,” he mused. “Maybe I need to watch myself around you.”
A surge of pride swelled in your chest; you hadn't expected his praise. Or the way it would make you feel. And apparently, you'd guessed something right about him. 
“You're also not married or in a serious relationship,” you blurted before you could help yourself, wondering what more you could learn about him.
��Poor and unlovable?” the Devil asked with a surprised laugh. “That's what you think of me?”
“No,” you disagreed, laughing a little with him as you shook your head. “No, but I mean, I imagine you don't have time for someone else. And I figure most people wouldn’t like their partner going out and doing what you do. Putting yourself in danger.”
“Mmm,” he hummed out, shifting on the couch and making himself more comfortable. “A partner would certainly be…a distraction. A liability. One I couldn't really afford to have. So no, you're not wrong, I don't have one.”
You glanced down at your lap, your fingers fidgeting with the mug in your hands. Half of you was hoping to hear that he wasn't with anyone–though you refused to admit to yourself why that mattered–but the other half of you had heard the way he'd said that a partner would be a distracting liability and you’d felt a sad pang hit you in the chest. Considering how much he seemed to be enjoying your company when he didn't even know you had you guessing that the Devil was a lonely man deep down. 
But that wasn't a theory you felt comfortable sharing. 
“Any others?” he asked, breaking through your thoughts.
Clearing your throat, you focused back on him across the couch from you. His smile had disappeared, his lips now downturned at the corners just a bit. His posture had changed in your silence, the same as his mood, as if he'd picked up on the subtle change in yours somehow. 
Strange.
“I imagine you're the kind of guy who's fridge is always empty,” you answered.
A ghost of a smile reappeared on his face as he huffed out an amused breath. You couldn't fight the smile returning to your own lips at the sight of his again. 
“Well hey now,” he countered lightly, “there's usually beer. Sometimes orange juice and eggs.”
You giggled, unable to stop yourself. “Who'd have guessed the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is just your average bachelor?” 
“Average?” he repeated in mock offense, his head tilting to the side. “I'm just average now?”
Quirking a brow at him in a challenging manner, your own head cocked to the side. “Maybe tell me more about yourself and I could say otherwise,” you boldly teased back. 
“Well obviously,” he began, grinning at you in a way that had your body heating, “I can't exactly do that now can I? Defeats the purpose–
“Of remaining anonymous,” you finished for him. “I've picked up on the importance of that.” 
A silence soon settled between the pair of you, one that slowly began to cause your nerves to grow with the way he kept smiling at you. Once again you desperately found yourself wanting to see the rest of his face, curious to know just how handsome he really was under that black mask. Though you settled for studying what you could see, your eyes tracing the soft curves of his pink lips, noticing the way they very minutely twitched under your scrutiny. Eventually your gaze dropped down, following the hard lines of his stubbled jaw. As your eyes trailed further down, they lingered on the part of his neck that wasn't covered by the blankets he’d wrapped around himself for warmth. A heat burned in you as the urge to reach out and just touch him, just to see if he was real, suddenly grew within you. It didn't help that it almost felt like you could feel the weight of his own eyes fixed on you beneath the mask, once again making you very aware of your lack of bra beneath your sweatshirt.
Catching your lip between your teeth, you noticed the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow. Had he been having similar thoughts? Observing you, too? 
Inhaling a sharp breath through your nose at the idea, you knew you needed to stop this line of thinking and stop it fast. There was absolutely no way the Devil would be interested in you. Certainly not like that. That was absurd.
“Would you like something to eat?” you asked, trying to calm your pulse. “If your fridge is empty all the time I'm guessing you could use something to eat.”
“I mean, I suppose if you’re–”
He stopped short the exact moment that the lights died, throwing the pair of you into almost complete darkness. You sucked in a breath, turning to look out the window just to your right. It was eerily dark outside, a sight that was rare in the city. Even the buildings across the street had been thrown into darkness. There was nothing but the howling wind and snow outside.
“Guess it was too much to hope the power wouldn’t go out in this mess,” you breathed out.
“I suppose so,” he replied, his tone just as soft.
Reaching blindly forward, you set your almost empty mug onto the coffee table before you. For a moment you reached around on the surface until your fingers brushed against your phone. You picked it up and unlocked the screen, grateful for the bit of light it shed in the dark as you turned on the flashlight function.
“So I can’t offer you a nice cooked meal without power,” you told him, rising to your feet, “but I can get you an apple and a couple of protein bars? If you’d…like?”
“You don’t have to, but I’d appreciate it,” he said.
“It’s the least I can do for the man who does so much for the rest of us,” you told him, maneuvering around the couch and navigating your way to the kitchen by the light of your phone. “I’d feel awful leaving you hungry and dehydrated.”
Wrapping one arm around your chest to try to fight the chill that had been steadily creeping into you, you headed towards a cabinet near the sink. Reaching up, you grabbed a glass from out of it before taking a moment to fill it beneath the faucet before setting it along the countertop. Then you plucked an apple out of a fruit bowl on your counter, taking a moment to rinse it off first. The moment you’d turned off the faucet you heard his voice from across the apartment.
“You’re cold.”
For a moment you found it odd how his words hadn’t come out as a question but more of an observation, though you quickly shrugged the strangeness of that aside. You set the apple down on the counter beside the glass of water before sliding a step to your right and opening up another cabinet.
“It’s alright, I’m fine,” you answered, trying to shine the light from your phone into the cabinet to read the labels on the boxes. “I wasn’t the one out in that snowstorm wearing barely anything at all.”
“You say that like I was out there naked.”
His voice had unexpectedly come from just behind you this time and it jolted your heart in your chest instantly. His sudden proximity mixed with his word choice had you startling on the spot. Your hand that had been about to pull the box of protein bars out of the cabinet accidentally bumped it instead, causing the entire box to slip off of the shelf. But before it could tumble to the floor and spill its contents, a black gloved hand darted out beside your face, catching it before it had barely fallen six inches. 
You stood there rooted to the spot, his hand just brushing your arm as his held the box of protein bars. The hair on the back of your neck had risen, aware that he was standing barely a foot behind you now. Slowly, you turned over your shoulder to look at him. Your pulse quickened further at how close his face was to yours. He was looking at you, too. Or at least, he was facing you. Eyes dropping down, you couldn’t help but notice that mouth of his again. 
“I apologize,” he said, your eyes watching as his lips moved. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Sometimes I forget how quiet I can be. I just wanted to give you one of the blankets. No sense in me using both when you’re cold.”
“Oh,” you whispered, unable to form any other response.
With his attention still on you, he reached up and slid the box back onto the shelf. Then he seemed to take a purposeful step back from you, his lips set in a straight line. You wondered what was going on in his mind right now, because you were sure there had to be something. Had he felt the tension you’d just felt? Or were you just ridiculous and overly hopeful?
And why did it even matter? You were never going to see this man again after tonight anyway.
Blinking a few times, you returned your attention to the shelf. Reaching up, you slid your hand into the box that had nearly taken a nosedive to your kitchen floor and pulled out two protein bars. Keeping your eyes actively focused away from the Devil nearby, you closed the cabinet and slid a step back to your left, grabbing the glass of water in your hand with your phone and the apple in the same hand as the bars. Though before you could turn around, you felt something gently drape over your shoulders. Looking down, you noticed it was the pink blanket he’d been wearing.
“Like I said,” he repeated, “there’s no sense in me using both.”
“Right,” you whispered, pulse pounding in your throat.
Turning on your heel, you stepped past him and made your way back to the living room by the light of your phone. This time you heard the heavy steps of him following after you. You assumed that was intentional.
“So why were you out in this blizzard tonight anyway?” you asked him, making your way around the couch. You hoped having something to talk about would distract you from whatever it was he kept stirring inside of you. “Surely there aren’t a lot of crimes being committed in this weather?”
The Devil let out a light laugh as he accepted the offered glass of water and food from you. One of your brows quirked curiously onto your forehead at his reaction as you sat back down in your original spot on the couch. Though you noticed as he took a large drink from the cup while lowering himself onto the cushions that he’d sat closer to you than before. You watched as he ripped open a protein bar and tore off a large bite next, but he didn't answer until a moment later when he’d swallowed the bite down. Internally you noted he must’ve been hungrier than he let on with the way he was devouring that bar and you’d wished you’d had more food to offer him with the power out.
“You’d be correct,” he told you. “And yet I still stupidly made my way out into this storm tonight in the hopes of catching a lead on something. Instead all I got was my ass frozen and my side bruised.” 
You watched as he took another large bite of the protein bar, chewing it almost contemplatively as his head canted to the side. You could still see him in the beam of light from your phone which you were still clutching in your hand. Somehow this lighting made him even more appealing as it cast sharp shadows along his jaw.
“Though I suppose unexpectedly meeting you was a highlight,” he added, causing your cheeks to flush. “But you know, you never did give me your name.”
“Well you never exactly gave me yours,” you immediately quipped back.
Those beautiful lips of his curved upwards yet again as he chewed the last bite of the first protein bar. What you wouldn’t give to see if that smile had reached his eyes.
“Alright, point taken,” he replied. 
Tearing your gaze away from him, you focused on your phone. If you kept the flashlight running the battery would die in no time. And who knew how long the power might be out for, you might need it later. You supposed you didn't need it on just for a conversation.
“I’m going to turn the flashlight off on my phone for now, if that's alright?” you told him, fingers darting across the screen to do just that. “Might need the battery on this later.”
“That’s alright,” he replied, sounding as if he was chewing another bite of food. “I don’t need it.”
He’d made the comment just as you’d leaned forward to set your phone back onto the coffee table, but you’d paused as the words processed in your mind. Your eyes narrowed again as your mind raced. Something about the way he’d said that sounded as if it had another meaning to it. But before you could put too much thought into it, he’d changed the topic.
“You’re still cold,” he pointed out. “That blanket alone isn't helping.”
Brows furrowing together as you slowly sat back, you wondered how he could possibly know that. The pair of you were in almost pitch black again with your phone flashlight off. It wasn't like he could see you and you hadn't been shivering, though there were definitely goosebumps dotting your skin. How could he possibly know? 
“I’m fine,” you said, pulling the blanket you had on tighter around yourself. “It’s bound to get colder here with the power out now.”
“And with how long you had your window open earlier,” he added. “The temperature is going to drop in here faster than it would have if you hadn’t helped me.”
You sighed, frowning in his general direction. “So much for being able to help you warm up,” you muttered. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” he assured you.
It felt as if he was shifting on the couch nearby. Your brows knitted further together as you tried to make out what he was doing through the dark. All you could see was a faint mass of black that seemed darker than the rest of the blackness. Then moments later you felt a blanket being draped over your lap. 
“No, uh uh,” you said, shaking your head and immediately grabbing the blanket. “There’s two blankets, we can clearly share.”
“You’re freezing,” he countered. 
“And you’re not cold?” you shot back.
“Doesn’t matter, you’ve already been far kinder than I deserved this evening,” he replied.
You grabbed the blanket in your hands and stubbornly tossed it back in his general direction. An audible sigh sounded through the darkness to your left.
“You know I can just leave, right?” he told you. “Which would leave you with no reason to not use both blankets.”
Your eyes narrowed in the direction of the sound of his voice. “But then you’d be allowing more cold air into my apartment, which would only make the temperature drop faster in here,” you argued back. “Then I'd really be cold.”
He breathed out a laugh and you imagined the smile on his lips at the sound. You smiled triumphantly back at the dark shape of him because you knew you had a good point. Even though really, you could just layer on more clothes.
“Okay,” he relented. “That��s true. So how about…we share?”
The smile on your face quickly disappeared at his suggestion. Mouth dropping open, you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest. It took you a few seconds to regain the ability to respond.
“Share?” you asked.
“Body heat would certainly keep us both warmer,” he answered. “So would sharing two blankets instead of using only one.”
“Oh, uh, well,” you stammered, your mind racing at the thought of your body pressed up against his. “I–I–”
His deep laugh rumbled towards you through the darkness, the sound causing your lips to clamp shut. 
“I’m not suggesting anything immoral,” he assured you. “Simply a possible solution to the very real problem of us freezing in here. Unless, of course, you’d prefer me to leave?”
“No!” you exclaimed.
Immediately your eyes widened in horror at how quickly you’d responded to that. And judging by his chuckle, he’d also noticed, too. Your face scrunched up as you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so eager to keep him here in your apartment.
“Well in that case, we could share the blankets and our body heat,” he suggested again. “Because the temperature has definitely dropped a few degrees already and it's only going to continue if the power stays out.”
Nervously your tongue slid out, licking your lips. You were trying hard to control the racing of your heart, positive he could hear it with how hard it was beating now. Of course you weren’t going to pass up a chance to basically cuddle the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen for warmth during a snowstorm. You just needed to find a way to not sound so eager to accept his offer first.
“I suppose you…have a point there,” you said slowly, trying to keep your voice even. “That’s–that’s usually what people do in survival situations. Use their body heat to keep warm.”
An amused huff came from him and you realized he’d scooted even closer to you on the couch. Your breath caught in your throat the moment you felt his thigh bump against yours.
“So are we in agreement with sharing both blankets, then?” he asked.
“That–that appears to be the most logical solution to the problem,” you answered. “So yeah, I guess we…share the blankets.”
Despite the lack of light, the Devil seemed to move with ease and fluidity through the darkness, something you were paying close attention to as he gently sidled his way up against the side of you, managing to wrap both blankets around the pair of you. All the while you’d sat pin straight on the couch, aware that he was flush to your side from your shoulder all the way down to your knee. You clasped your hands in your lap, unsure of where else to place them. Truthfully, you had to admit you were already much warmer like this, with his body heat enveloping you beneath both blankets.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, his tone far gentler than it had been all evening. “Because that's not my intention.”
“No,” you answered with a light shake of your head. “You're not.”
He chuckled softly, his body shaking yours slightly with the movement. Your head turned towards him and you wished you could see at least the part of his face that was visible right now.
“Then why are you so tense?” he questioned. 
“I'm not tense!” you lied.
He laughed again, this time louder. The movement jostled you somehow further into his side, though your hand flew out and landed flat on his very solid chest as you tried to stop yourself from falling further into him. Your eyes widened in horror yet again, but before you could push yourself away you felt his arm wrapping around your shoulders and allowing you to sink even more into him. Heat was very much creeping up your neck and reaching your cheeks now in embarrassment. 
“You're very tense actually,” he teased. “If you're uncomfortable I can move, but we aren't going to be sharing much body heat if you don't actually sit next to me.”
Slowly you removed your hand from his chest, lowering it to your lap. Though with the way you were sitting facing partially towards him now, your knuckles were brushing against his thigh. 
“I am not tense,” you grumbled. “And you aren't making me uncomfortable. This is just…awkward. I barely know you and you don't know me.”
“Okay,” he conceded. “How about since you've guessed a few things about me, I think it's only fair you tell me a few things about yourself now.”
“I told you I'm not very interesting,” you reminded him.
“Ah, well,” he replied with a shrug, “I think I'd like to decide that for myself.”
Biting your lip, you turned your burning face and buried it into his shoulder, glad he couldn't see how nervous he'd suddenly made you. It was hard to tell if he was flirting with you or if that was just his vigilante persona–when he wasn't beating people, of course. 
With your nose pressed against the fabric of his shirt, you noticed he smelled surprisingly good. There was the hint of his sweat, but there was also a faint clean detergent scent. You closed your eyes and tried to relax, inhaling a deep breath in. Even though he was still a stranger and a vigilante, he seemed kind and safe so far. And he also hadn't thrown you off of himself for getting even closer to him, either. Maybe you should just do what he seemed to be doing: relax and enjoy the unexpected cuddles tonight with an unexpected acquaintance. 
“Alright, what do you want to know?” you whispered, eyes still closed as you focused on his scent.
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Eyes fluttering open, you felt yourself waking from a deep, comfortable sleep. Though your eyes instantly snapped closed against the bright light that immediately assaulted them. Slowly you blinked them back open, trying to adjust to the surprising sunshine pouring through your living room window. Gradually you began to push yourself upright, realizing you were laying with your head on a couch pillow, both of your blankets snuggly wrapped around you. For a moment your face twisted into a look of confusion as you hesitated, staring down at the two blankets. Why had you been asleep on your couch?
But then flashes of last night came back to you. The masked man falling onto your fire escape. The joking and constant banter between the pair of you. Darkness when the power went out and the feel of his warm, muscular body wrapped around yours as he tried to keep you warm. The scent of clean detergent and his sweat. The feel of his spandex shirt against your fingertips and your cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder.
Had that all really happened? Or had you just fallen asleep on your couch and dreamt it?
Your attention shifted towards your coffee table and your sluggish brain processed the sight of your almost empty mug of tea, left abandoned all night, and an empty glass of water. Pushing yourself the rest of the way upright on the couch, your head turned over your shoulder. The lock on your living room window was undone.
The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen really had been in your apartment last night. Which meant the pair of you really had cuddled together for warmth when your power had gone out. And you really did meet him. At least, somewhat.
“Oh my God,” you breathed out in awe. “He was really here.”
But just as the rush of excitement at meeting someone you’d always secretly admired filled you, it quickly vanished. Because you must have fallen asleep on him sometime last night when the pair of you were talking, and then he must’ve slipped out of your apartment before the sun came up, probably when the power had come back on. Which made sense, considering he wouldn’t want to be seen sneaking back to his own apartment in such a conspicuous outfit. 
But what was upsetting you was the growing realization that it wasn’t just the first time you’d met him, but it would most likely be the last. And you’d gone and fallen asleep through part of that meeting.
Stupid stupid stupid.
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myfictionaldreams · 8 months
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Winter Soup // Mafia!Stucky x F!Reader
Summary: There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?
Requested by: @senjoritanana​​ thank you so much, I hope you enjoy all the angst!
A/N: PSA I don't know the specifics of how poisons work and didn't want to risk it on my google history lmao so please ignore any inaccuracies. Please read the tags if you're affected by near death experiences, please proceed with caution and if I've missed any tags/warnings, please let me know!
Warnings/Tags: 18+ readers only, hints of smut, angst (LOTS BUCKLE UP), fluff, polyamory relationship, poisoning, blood and injury, anxiety, crying, begging, near death expierences, reader is injured, pain, emotional hurt/comfort, hospitalization, protective Steve Bucky and Sam, everyone needs a hug tbh
Words: 7.7k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
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The warmer months were slowly starting to shift into winter and for some reason this year, the weather change was beginning to affect your health. You’d heard of the phrase ‘seasonal depression’ but you were convinced that it was due to the cooler weather that was making you feel this rubbish.
It had been happening for a week now, and some days you’d feel fine, normal in fact but then others your chest felt so tight as if an elephant was sitting on top of you, nausea, vertigo and heart palpations that would have you clutching your chest with fear you might explode. With each passing day, you would be praying for the summer months to return, especially as the snow and ice increased with intensity outside of your home.
You were fine for the most part, good days and bad; yes you might be getting worse with each passing day but you were adamant that the seasonal illness would pass. However, the frosty weather was also a minor blessing because it was your excuse to stay home and be a pretty housewife for Steve and Bucky. Being able to stay home made it easier to keep the illness to yourself as well, it was a busy time within the Rogers mafia and you didn’t need them wasting their time fretting over your wellness when they had a lot of other things to do. They had many international deals that were so close to being signed for and contracted that every waking hour was spent at the office, on phone calls, and emails, trying to talk to locals across the world to attend meetings on their behalf so the boys were thoroughly busy.
There were a few occasions you’d attended with them to the office if you were feeling particularly needy or lonely but it unnerved you to drive on the snow and ice so when you suggested that you might stay at home, Steve and Bucky offered no complaints.
At home at least you were able to mop about, trying to perk yourself up with movies, pyjamas and your favourite bowl of warm soup. Over the last few months, you’d been trying to improve your cooking skills, especially to impress Steve who usually cooked for three of you. This became more interesting as the colder months drew in over Brooklyn as this meant you could cook more homely, hearty foods such as soups and stews, especially as you had recipe suggestions from the newly hired grounds guard Rafael.
He’d been recommended by a friend of a friend for Steve to hire which was perfect timing because the last grounds guard had retired. There were a few occasions when he was the guard to bring the post to the front door from the front gate and you soon found he was enthusiastic and easy to talk to, even though he was a little bit older, which was how you found out he had previously been a chef and offered to give you recipe ideas. As winter drew in, Rafael began turning up when he knew you were by yourself to deliver some of his momma’s family recipe soups, hoping that the meal would perk you up which it did, they tasted so delicious that you were secretly hoping he would keep bringing them to you, especially as you continued to feel unwell.
“What is it today?”, you asked voice full of hope and trying to sound as upbeat as possible. Even though you were desperately holding onto the door handle as your head was spinning and scared you’d fall over.
“Potato and leek soup and they’re all grown in my back yard so hopefully you’ll love it even more than usual”, Rafael smiled as he handed over the container, his smile broad and causing the aged creases at the corner of his eyes to deepen.
Gleefully you accepted the soup, opening the lid slightly to smell the delicious meal, your stomach grumbling with hunger. Your appetite had reduced significantly over the last few days due to always feeling nauseous however it seemed the only thing that you could stomach was his delicious meals and therefore his arrival was always welcomed.
“Thank you so much! Please will you let me pay you this time? You’re being way too kind to me, always giving me free meals, you’re going above and beyond a usual guard”, you pleaded whilst also having to return holding onto the door handle as it felt like the ground was moving with your dizziness.
Rafael held up his hands and shook his head, taking a step back, “Absolutely not! Just wanted to give you something to make you feel better and make the fairies go away”.
The guard halted, a look of embarrassment passing out his features as he realised what he just said, especially as you asked, “Fairies?”
He awkwardly looked down at his shoes, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to explain, “Yeah it’s just something my momma use to say. If we were feeling unwell, it’s because the fairies had crept into our stomachs and were being naughty and making us ill and now I’ve said it out loud to another person I’ve realised how insane that sounds so I’m going to stop talking”.
You squeezed your lips together to try and contain your laughter but that lasted a moment before you were both laughing which only turned into you losing your balance against the door and swaying to keep yourself upright. The laughter died in Rafael’s eyes as he reached out to you, “Woah, you ok, Ma’am?”
Quickly brushing him off, you took a step back into your home, trying to ask nonchalantly about the situation, “Yeah sorry, probably just the fairies pushing me over”. Your joke didn’t seem to comfort him in any way as he continued to look uneased by your appearance.
Thankfully Rafael didn’t push the situation any further, seeing that you wanted to escape back into the comfort of your home, he took his step back with a simple smile. “Get back inside before you catch another cold from this snow. Eat the soup whilst it’s still warm and I’ll be back tomorrow to hear the verdict on the taste.”
“Thank you Rafael! Enjoy the rest of your day!”. You waved him off and rushed to slam the door, sliding down to the floor against the wood, losing all energy that you’d built that morning just for that one conversation. Ok yes, you were feeling sorry for yourself as you tried to catch your breath, heart pounding violently in your chest that it also echoed in your ears and your vision was still seeing double of everything.
However your stomach continued to gurgle with hunger so without wasting any more energy, you opened the lid and ate the entire contents then and there. Releasing a satisfied sigh at the delicious meal, you took another couple of minutes to gather your senses before dragging yourself over to the living room, collapsing onto your back on the couch and letting sleep take you into a dreamless realm.
A violent shake of your shoulders by a hard grip on your shoulder was what startled you awake as Sam’s voice then surrounded you as he shouted, “Hey! Wake up!”.
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever been close to hating you Sam Wilson”, you croaked before coughs shattered your chest, rocking your body as you tried to sit up and suck in any air between the painful coughs. Finally, you calmed down enough to collapse back against the decorative cushions of the couch and open your eyes to look at the three Sam’s that hovered over you. After a couple more blinks, they merged into one, very distressed-looking bodyguard, eyebrows knitted together and jaw muscle clenched harshly.
Sam reached towards your face, pressing against your cheek in concern, “Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?”
“What? I’m not ill, I’m just tired, can’t a girl nap around here?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow, trying to look as relaxed as possible. 
The man didn’t look convinced as he sat on the edge of the couch next to you. Releasing a heavy sigh which only twinged something in your chest that made you want to cough but you refrained from doing so as you emphasised, “Sam seriously, I’m fine”.
Sam gave you another serious glance, eyes hardening as he explained, “You didn’t sound fine, you were wheezing so hard in your sleep I thought you were going to stop breathing”.
There was no denying the panic that filled your heart and would explain the tightened feeling in your chest but you tried to not let the fear show on your face as you rolled your eyes, reaching for his hand and squeezing it.
“I appreciate your concern Sam, but I feel ok, I’m just tired, I was probably just sleeping in a weird position and look, no wheeze now!” Taking a deep breath to show there was no more noise coming from your chest, however, it didn’t seem to comfort him in any way.
“Yeah well you’re still looking peaky and why are you so tired all the time recently, you’re never usually like this”.
“It’s probably just the cold weather or something. If I start to feel unwell, you know I’d tell you. I’m a big baby when I’m ill, you’ll be the first to know”. Sam looked to be contemplating believing you and all you were silently begging for was that he didn’t call Steve and Bucky, they just didn’t need this stress right now. Even though it was in his contract to call them at any sign of injury or illness but as Sam looked at you, other than looking tired, you seemed to be fine and still joking with him. Finally, he gave you a simple nod and you couldn't hold back the thankful sigh. “Do you mind if I go back to sleep for a little while longer or do you need me for anything?”
“You’ve been sleeping a lot recently”, he stated his earlier point again.
“What, so I’m not allowed to nap now?” you teased him with a subtle smile, hoping to crack his worried exterior. It only half worked as he shook his head to himself, standing up and pulling the fluffy blanket that had been left behind you on the couch and throwing it over your body. Before you could even thank him though, sleep had stolen you back into its resting state. 
Sleeping for a few more hours, Sam was nowhere to be seen but he usually liked to check the perimeter ever so often and speak to the other guards so you weren’t worried about his whereabouts. As you shuffled to the kitchen, you couldn’t tell if you felt any worse or better after all the sleeping, haven’t wasted another day feeling sorry for yourself, you tried to snap out of it by glancing through the refrigerator and cupboards and deciding to ssurpriseSteve and Bucky with a romantic meal.
The house was soon filled with delicious scents of sweet and savoury as you’d baked and were in the process of cooking their dinner. You were in your own little world and had only stumbled a handful of times with dizziness and the headache that was building was currently mild in comparison to others you had, it was fine you determined to yourself
Still lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t even heard the front door open as you were suddenly enveloped by a muscular chest and arms, a smile aching your cheeks as you nuzzled back into Steve’s body. His lips danced over your cheek and down your neck as he held you close, the roughness of his beard comforting. “I didn’t hear you come in”, you commented, turning your head slightly to chase after his lips, sighing deeply in your chest as he held you tighter for a second, hands dipping beneath your shirt at your waist so that he could feel the warmth of your skin.
“I did shout”, he revealed whilst moving back to neck, not to kiss but just to smell you in, his body almost melting into the floor as he felt at home with the familiar scents. “I’ve missed you”, he whispered against your skin.
Goosebumps instantly flooded over your body as you shivered, turning in his arms to hug him properly, your fingers scratching through his hair that was beginning to curl at the ends where he’d allowed it to grow out over the winter months. “I’ve missed you too”, you whispered against his lips, lazily kissing and breathing each other in.
“Come with us tomorrow, I want you to be near me”, he admits with words that were making you cling to him harder.
You wanted to say yes and the word was on the tip of your tongue but then your thoughts drifted to the soup coming. “I’ve got a delivery coming that I can’t miss, I’m sorry”.
“The guards can get the delivery”, he counters.
“It’s fresh soup I want it whilst it’s hot”, an embarrassed smile finds its way to your lips as he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he just enjoyed the moment of the two of you being together.
“Soup? But we could order that to the office if you wanted it, you know that’s no issue”. 
You pout dramatically, hanging off his neck as you whisper with a childish tone, “But it won’t be the soup that I’ve ordered and want”.
Steve rolls his eyes but you know he's being playful, he could never find a reason to be upset with you. Rolling back his shoulders, he stands back to his full height, opening his eyes to cup your cheek with his massive hand but this was when he took you in and a frown dawned on his face just like it had on Sam’s. “Are you feeling ok?” The hand on your cheek moved towards your forehead, expecting to feel a temperature but it felt normal.
“I feel great”, you say with as much cheer in your tone as possible, still holding onto his neck but mostly because another wave of dizziness had rushed through you and you needed some support to stay standing.
Steve didn’t seem convinced, “You just … look a little off”.
You playfully rolled your eyes, similar to how he had just done, “Wow thanks Steve”.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that”.
“I know, I’m joking, I’m fine - really, it's nothing to worry about”. He eyes you and doesn’t fall for your grin so you tried your next trick up your sleeve. Leaning on your tip toes whilst pulling his face closer, you whispered against his lips, “I love you, Stevie”.
The tension momentarily eased from his shoulders as his grip around you tightened, “I love you too”.
“Sorry to interrupt your love fest but I want my own loving”, Bucky broadly announced from the entrance of the kitchen where he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes however as you pulled back from Steve and he could finally see your face, the happiness seeped from his face. “Woah, what happened? Are you ok?”
You gave a frustrated huff, finally releasing Steve’s neck as you pointed in the direction of the decorated table. “Right, both of you go and sit down before I decide you don’t deserve any food for being mean”.
Steve shuffled away first as you continued to cook the food, Bucky looking ashamed as he came over and kissed your cheek but before he could pull away, you quickly captured his lips in a kiss to show you’d been playing before and weren’t upset.
“Why are there only two plates on the table?”  Steve questioned as he took a seat.
Without looking over your shoulder at him, you casually answered, “I’ve already had mine, I wasn’t sure when you were both going to be home and I didn’t want to wait”. They both seemed to accept your lie and you happily sat with them as they ate, asking about how the deals were going. They both seemed to be agreed that they were sure to have contracts signed tomorrow and had even been able to pay off some of the international police so that shipping of the goods could occur. In truth, after the soup, you were not feeling at all remotely hungry and even the smell of the cooked food had turned your stomach over.
A couple of hours later, the three of you were preparing for bed. Steve is in the middle and you are to his right and Bucky is to his left. You and the mafia boss had been kissing deeply for a couple of minutes, his hands beneath your shirt, brushing against your breasts, rough fingertips peaking your nipples as you ground down on his thigh. You were soaked and he could feel the evidence of it as you weren’t wearing any underwear but the longer the touches and kisses went on for, the more you were feeling unwell.
As his teeth tugged on your bottom lip and he began to trail open-mouthed kisses over your jaw and down your throat, you noticed Bucky was doing the same thing but to Steve’s neck from behind. However, there were two Bucky’s instead of one as your vision swayed and it felt as if you were on a water bed with how unsteady you felt. The headache was close to a full-blown migraine as well now which only continued to make you feel nauseous so even though there was nothing more you wanted than to continue where this intimacy was leading but, for once, you had to stop it.
“Wait, just- just one moment”, you pushed against Steve's shoulders at the same time. The blonde's hold on you loosened as he moved his face back to look into your eyes but you’d closed them, trying to hide your face from him and Bucky who had also sat up further to check on you. “I just- sorry I’m tired and I… I’m not sure- sorry.. I don’t think-”.
Steve’s fingers tipped your chin up to look at him as he smiled softly down at you, “If you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to. If you’re tired then I’ll just hold you close, ok? Please don’t apologise for not wanting any of this”.
You relaxed in his arms, feeling grateful for him but also bad that you could feel how aroused he was against your stomach. “Thank you. I’m just feeling so tired today. Please don’t let me stop you both, continue without me, I just want to go to sleep”.
“You don’t have to give us reasons why you don’t want to do it, baby, we’ll do whatever you want to do. Me and Buck don’t have to fuck if you want to be held, I don’t want you thinking we’re neglecting you”.
Affection and love warmed your heart as you kissed Steve’s lips and then reached over his shoulder to kiss Bucky. “I love you both but seriously please continue, I like watching you both anyway so that’ll satisfy me enough if I’m not asleep by that point anyway”.
They both gave their love back to you with praises and pecks to your face before rolling away from you and beginning their exploration of each other's bodies. You watched with a smile on your face for a couple of moments and your core ached with need but as a burst of pain pounded through your temple, your eyes shut automatically to help ease the pain and from there, they never opened again as sleep took you soon after.
The next morning, your migraine had gone but your entire body felt weak and drained of any energy. Steve and Bucky took one look at you and determined that they’d be working from home, wishing to remain near you but they still needed the comfort of their home office upstairs whereas you remained downstairs, pretending to watch TV.
Somehow, you had continued to hide your seasonal illness, they just thought you still looked peaky. Today was the worst you’d felt so far, even having to use the wall as support whilst walking around the home, silently coughing into cushions so that the boys wouldn’t hear upstairs and this only increased the sharp pain shooting through your chest.
At lunchtime, Sam came over to visit and found you at the table in the kitchen, head lying against the table top as you dipped in and out of sleep. You were too tired to even pretend to joke and thankfully for once he didn’t pester you with being unwell, especially knowing Steve and Bucky were home, he assumed they had seen how bad you were so he just sat next to you at the table, easing his hand under your head so you had some comfort against the hard surface.
Soon after, Rafael knocked on the front door with your soup delivery. Usually h,e would stay at the door, never coming into your home but Sam insisted that he come out of the cold and deliver the soup to you in person.
“Yay!” you croaked, reaching out for the warm container, seeing the soup within and seeing that it was a deep red colour today, possibly tomato.
“I didn’t know you cooked, Rafael”, Sam noted, taking his seat next to yours once more as the new guard stayed standing at the head of the table. Other than Natasha, Sam was the lead of the security and guards and technically Rafael’s boss.
“Oh yeah, he used to be a chef”, you explained to Sam, whilst opening the lid of the container, smelling the delicious food and confirming your theory that it was tomato soup.
“Chef? I didn’t know you worked as a chef”, Sam remarked with a frown, eyeing Rafael with confusion as he’d been the one to complete the job interview and didn’t remember seeing chef on his CV.
Rafael casually shrugged his shoulders, looking somewhat tense at the questioning but still forced a smile to his face to please his boss. “I didn’t think it was relevant to the job, to be honest”.
“We’ll have to get you on the bbq when the weather perks up, maybe that’ll stop the arguments between Steve and Bucky”, Sam mused over the thought.
You tried to chuckle but the exhaustion had you slumping against the table as you mumbled, “I feel like shit”.
Sam tensed next to you, “Maybe we should call a doctor. You know, I’m surprised Steve and Bucky aren’t down here right now looking after you, do they even know how bad you’re feeling today?”
“Wait, they’re both here?” Rafael asked Sam but he ignored him, his focus solely on you.
Once again you’re too tired to think of an answer and shrug your shoulders, turning your head to look up at Rafael, “I think the fairies like me too much”.
“Fairies?”, Sam questions thinking that you’d become delirious.
You smile genuinely to Sam, reaching to tap his shoulder, “Inside joke Sam, keep up”.
There was no further discussion of fairies as more hacking coughs ripped through you. It took a couple of moments and Sam rushed to get you a glass of water before you slumped back against the table in exhaustion.
“Why don’t you have the soup and then see how you’re feeling later? Maybe the rest is all you need”, Rafael suggested, filling the silence with his voice.
You couldn’t see it but Sam gave his employee a scathing look, “Rest is all she’s been doing. I’m calling the doc and then I’m going upstairs to tell Steve and Bucky”.
“Aren’t they busy?” Rafael continued to question Sam. “I’ve heard they’ve got that deal coming up from Italy and France, they might appreciate it if you wait a little bit before calling Doctors”.
Sam’s voice was quiet and stern but you were too tired to notice. “That’s not common knowledge, how do you know that?”.
Massaging your temples with the pounding thuds that hadn’t stopped since your coughing fit, you decided that Rafael was right, usually sleep made you feel better. Reaching for the soup one more, you opened the container as you addressed your bodyguard, “he’s right Sam. I just need today for all the work stuff to be over and then I’ll call the doctor. The boys don’t need any distractions, especially today, one more day isn’t going to kill me”.
Sam didn’t look happy as you began to idly sip on the thick, delicious soup. As you thanked Rafael for the meal, Sam finally looked back to him, his frown deep and unmoving as he asked, “Don’t you have work to do?”
Rafael’s spine straightened, “Oh yeah, right. Sorry, sir” and with that, he left to return to work.
“You don’t have to be so bossy you know, he’s just trying to help”, you tried to reason with Sam.
However, your friend ignored you and moved to hold your hand to pull your attention away from the meal and towards him. “I’m giving you until the evening, wait no- if you get any worse before the evening, I am calling the Doc, no arguments, understand?”
“Yes sir”, you say with a little salute.
Finishing your soup, your boyfriends finally came downstairs and you attempted to straighten your posture and plaster a fake smile on your face. Bucky paused in the entryway, sniffing the air and asking, “What’s that smell, I know it's from somewhere but can’t put my finger on it”.
“Is it my soup?” you say, trying to stand up and act like the floor was spinning beneath you.
“No, it’s not that”, he pondered, still looking around and trying to smell whatever he recognised but couldn’t pick it up again. Steve and Bucky both walked past you, kissing the back of your head as you casually explained that you were going to lie down for a little bit. “Wait, let me come with you-”, Bucky started but you held out your hand to stop him.
“You’ve got a busy time at work and I’ve got Sammy boy here anyway so you two continue with your work and we’ll have a nice evening in, Ok?”
“Yes Ma’am”, he mutters before continuing to make his lunch. It wasn’t often that he listened to your instructions but both men were so busy and overwhelmed with work and the consequences that could come from it all that they were all over the place.
The next hour passed by slowly and you didn’t manage to sleep even for a moment because your symptoms were making you feel so awful. You were wheezing so bad that each breath felt like you were suffocating, your eyes began to roll with how much the room was spinning and a violent tremble rocked through your entire body, you didn’t feel right, something was wrong and it was beginning to scare you.
“Sam?” your voice was nothing more than a rasping whisper but he still was able to hear you from where he had been on the phone with the doctor from across the room, having noticed your deterioration in health. He was kneeling by your side in a couple of broad steps, the phone balancing between his cheek and shoulder as he rested a hand on your temple, feeling your spiked temperature. “I don’t feel good”, you admitted, voice full of terror before more coughs ruptured through your chest, leaving you struggling to breathe.
“Steve! Bucky get down here right now!”
“No… no, I just need to sleep”, the fear had disappeared from your voice as you wished for the exhaustion to take you completely, hoping that in sleep you wouldn't feel the pain destroying your insides.
“Hey! No!  Don’t go t sleep, need you to stay awake for me, Doctor Banner is on his way but you can’t go to sleep”, Sam urgently tapped your face, rousing you from the sleep as Bucky had all but jumped down the entire flight of stairs at the shouting.
“What’s going on- What the fuck? Doll?” he replaced where Sam was so that he could continue to explain to the doctor what was happening.
“I’m just not feeling ok, it’s fine Bucky go back to work”, you were somewhat delirious, still not really opening your eyes but leaning into the coldness from Bucky’s hand as he cupped your face. Bucky looked to Sam for answers, his eyes bright and alert with fury and worry.
When Sam shrugged his shoulders, not having any answer as to why you were suddenly so unwell, Bucky quickly turned back to you and assessed your deteriorating health and noticed just how laboured your breathing had become. As he spoke, it was with surprising gentleness but still held authority, “I need you to take a deep breath for me, honey, I want you to try and fill your lungs with air”.
“I’m trying, it’s just seasonal illness, it’ll be ok”.
“What are you talking about?” Bucky asks, not letting go of your face but just moving in closer.
“It’s just seasonal”, your words began to slur as you became incoherent.
Steve finally descended the stairs with just as much purpose as Bucky as he demanded to know what was going on but Bucky couldn’t answer him as he continued to talk to you and keep you awake. “It’s not seasonal, you’re not breathing properly, it’s not-”. Bucky was leaning so close that he was able to smell your breath and he froze, it looked like he now wasn’t even breathing.
“What is it Bucky?” Steve demanded, kneeling next to him and reaching over to take your hand but also feel your pulse, which only made his own increase with worry.
Bucky leans closer and smells your mouth again, so close that you tried to move away as his nose nudged your lips. “What did you eat?” Bucky asked in a tone that forced your eyes to open with concern.
“Huh? Um just my soup”, you say whilst blinking quickly as he still wouldn’t come into focus.
“Soup? Where is it? Where’s the container?” before you could answer, he was on his feet and running into the kitchen as Steve continued to demand answers from his boyfriend, his hand now moving from your wrist to directly over your heart, continuing to count the beats.
Bucky cursed so violently that it actually made you shrink into the cushions but the movement only made you cough more and chest tighten as you struggled to breathe. He returned to the room, his face a deathly white and green shade as he uttered just one word: “Hemlock”.
There was just one brief second where not a body in the room breathed or even moved, one single second to process the poison that Bucky had spoken, the planet that he only knew about because of his time as the Winter Soldier and using it on his target. The poison that he could now smell on your breath, that originated from your container of soup.
It was Sam to speak first, Sam to snap the two men out of their frozen states as he gave the orders from Doctor Banner who had heard the word over the phone. “We need to get her to a hospital right now”.
Steve picked you up, and his entire body began to tremble with adrenaline and fear as no one even stopped to properly dress for the snow outside, only putting their shoes on before rushing to the car. Sam thankfully was able to use the adrenaline to remain headstrong as he climbed into the driver’s side of the car so that Steve and Bucky could both hold you in the back seats and try and keep you awake.
You were lying with your head in Steve’s lap with your body lying across Bucky’s as they clamped their arms around you as makeshift seatbelts. You had heard the word that Bucky had said and even though you knew what it was, you didn’t want to believe it, even as you continued to feel worse. “It’s not poison, it’s just soup”.
However, those words triggered something within your throat and once more you were coughing so hard that you thought you were going to vomit and cringed as metallic warmth filled your mouth and leaked out of the corner of your lips.
You slumped onto Steve and Bucky, head lulling back but Steve was quick to grab your face, tapping it and forcing you to stay awake, “Baby don’t go to sleep! Please stay awake for me! Stay with us, we’ll be at the hospital soon, I promise”.
You were scared, even though you were half-conscious, you were terrified now realising the severity of the situation, knowing that you were coughing up blood which was now soaking the front of Steve’s shirt and hearing how panicked your boyfriends were only made it worse. Through all the scary, dangerous times in your life, they always remained calm and in control but now they were both frantic and frightened. 
As all three men continued to plead with you to stay awake, you forced yourself to open your eyes, only allowing yourself the luxury of blinking occasionally as you kept looking into Steve’s ocean-blue eyes. With his body and face so close to yours, you used him to ground you in the situation, trying to copy his breathing which had slowed since you’d opened your eyes; ignoring the pain from the breaths and resisting the urges to cough even though blood continued to fill your mouth.
“Am I going to die?” you whisper, not being able to ignore the questions now in the back of your mind anymore.
Steve’s breath hitched for a second before he tried to confidently whisper, “No, you’re not going to die”.
You didn’t believe him, especially as the trip to the hospital was delayed by the snow, every second feeling like it could be your worse, you didn’t want it to end like this.
“I love you.”
“You’re going to be ok, just keep looking at Steve, keep breathing”, Bucky pleaded, squeezing your freezing cold hand.
“Please, just say it back”, your voice was hardly audible anymore as your mouth was so full of blood.
“Stop talking and save your energy for when you’re feeling better”, Bucky tried to keep his composure but you knew he was close to snapping.
Your breaths were wet and laboured, wheezing so violently it rattled and echoed around the car but you still managed to plead, “Say it back-”.
“I love you, I love you so fucking much, please don’t leave me, baby”. Steve snapped first, his eyes were wide, fearful and yet beautiful with how stark the blue was as his eyes filled with tears, leaking down his cheek and into his beard.
You were thankful, for both of them, for everything and you wish you could have told them, wishing that you could have heard Bucky’s own declaration of love and adoration for you but the pounding of your heartbeat became so loud in your head that you couldn’t hear anything anymore.
But you continued to hold on, never once looking away from those pretty eyes of Steve’s as Sam finally screeched to a halt outside of the hospital. Once more, Steve carried you and there was a flurry of people in different coloured scrubs suddenly surrounding you as you were placed onto a cold bed.
One moment you were staring into Steve’s eyes and the next you were looking up at a stranger and the comfort you’d once felt, the thing that was grounding you to life was now gone and you couldn’t find him again, no matter how much you moved on the bed, even as the strangers poked and prodded at your body until you couldn’t deal with it anymore and finally closed your eyes.
Do you ever have those naps where you wake up and forget where you are, or what time or day it is? That was currently how you felt except the added sensation of floating encompassed your body as well. The only sort of normality felt throughout your body was a cool feminine hand stroking across your temple in a soothing, repetitive manner.
Your toes wiggled firstly and then your eyes behind your eyelids and even though you knew who was stroking your forehead, you still croakily asked, “Steve? Bucky?”
“It’s just me Sugar” Natasha sounded calm and peaceful as her fingers didn’t stop with their soothing motions. “The boys are going to be so pissed that you’re awake before they’ve got back”.
You huff and dared to open your eyes, grunting at the brightness of the room but thankfully your eyes adjusted and only one, still, Natasha smiled down at you. Seeing that you weren’t going to vomit or freak out, Natasha sat back in her chair, moving to hold onto your hand to give you some comfort. “You gave us a real scare”.
You thought back to everything that happened, some of it was a blur but most of it still played through your mind like a horror movie that you couldn’t look away from or escape. “Was I really poisoned?”
There was one thing that you appreciated about Natasha and that was her blunt honesty, not one to ever sugarcoat her words, “You were”.
“But… But how? I mean… the soup, Rafael, he wouldn’t-”. You stopped yourself talking, trying to envision all the interactions you’d had with him but only one thing repeated through your thoughts: Don’t trust anyone. That was one of the first rules Steve had taught you. “I don’t understand why? He seemed so nice to me, is his name even Rafael? Was everything a lie?”
“That’s what they’re just finding out. Apparently, the friend of a friend rouse was made up including his credentials, usually, our background checks are very thorough but he had some help to slip through the cracks”.
“Do you know what help he had? Who it was, I mean?”
Natasha for once seemed to think before she spoke which unnerved you, knowing that whoever’s name she spoke next wouldn’t be good news.
The monitor displaying your heartbeat began to beep as it increased with the dread that was settling through your body.
“All signs are currently pointing to Pierce”.
Your eyes closed as you tried to remember how to breathe. You knew about Alexander Pierce. Everyone did. He was ruthless and had plenty of finances and power to pay for his success but not only this, he had been one of the top employees of Hydra and usually in charge of the Winter Soldier. So yes, you all knew a lot about Alexander Pierce and his name was one to send fear through any of those involved in the Rogers mafia, even Steve.
As you opened your eyes again to look at Natasha, you could tell she wanted to tell you more but was holding the information to not panic you further but you needed to know. “Please just tell me whatever it is you’re not telling me”.
“We think he paid this guy to come and spy on Steve and Bbucky and it seems he put his sights on you. Specifically.. Because you’re their biggest weakness and it seemed like everyone knows that”.
Your face warmed with fear and anger, as fear prickled the corner of your eyes, “So what, now I’m not even safe in my own home?”
“That’s not-” Tasha began to lean forward in her seat but another voice cut her off.
“No, you weren’t safe in your own home”. Steve stood at your hospital room door, dressed casually in a black shirt and jeans, looking nothing out of the ordinary but his face was wrath of calm and anger. Your eyes snapped from him to Bucky who had looked just as serious but as your eyes connected with his, the hard lines of his face smoothed out into a weak smile.
The two of them step into the room as Natasha stands, informing everyone that she’d give us some space and guard the door.
You’re trying desperately to keep the tears at bay, to keep them from slipping and cascading down your cheeks, not wanting your boyfriends to feel any more guilt but as you took a deep breath in, a sob erupts through you and you can’t keep the emotions back anymore.
You attempted to hide your face with your hands, even with the added difficulty of having tubes and wires attached to the backs of your hands and the tips of your fingers. The realities of everything that had happened began to destroy any hope that you had. You’d nearly died, in your own home where you were supposed to be most safe.
Steve and Bucky sat on either side of your hospital bed, moving silently as they always did and with careful ease, gently took a hand each and pried them away from your face, stroking away any tears that continued to escape.
“I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know… It’s a lot”, you tried to give reason for your crying, even though it was unnecessary. Bucky tilted your face towards him, his voice was so soft and caring that it nearly made you sob with how careful he was being with you, “Don’t apologise for crying, I tell you this all the time, Doll”.
You offered him a wet giggle, taking a few deep breaths before rambling on with your anxiety, “I bet I look like a right mess right now, I don’t even know how long I’ve been asleep for”.
They let you calm yourself down before Steve praises with his low captivating voice, “You always look beautiful, no matter how much snot is on your face”. He smiles as he manages to make you laugh before he turned serious, “It’s been 5 days, baby”.
Your face drops, “5… I’ve been asleep for 5 days?!”
“You passed out when we arrived and when they could finally stop the bleeding you-”
“Bleeding?” you questioned, remembering you were bleeding from the mouth but it didn’t seem like that much.
“The poison you’d ingested that day was a higher dose and caused internal bleeding. After they were able to stabilise you, they needed to detox you from the poison and make sure your body was healing so it was safe to keep you asleep”.
You tried to process everything that Steve had told you, it felt confusing for you to have been through so much and yet feel such little pain in your body.
As if reading your mind, Bucky once again captivated your attention as he asked, “How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”
“No I’m not in any pain but I feel wrong like my body is floating in the water or something”.
“That might be due to the medications that they’ve got you on, they’re pretty strong Sweetheart”, his pet name helped to calm your disorientated mind, clinging on to the familiarity and focusing on the way both of their hands were holding yours and stroking tiny circles in your skin,
“Did you get the answers you wanted, from Rafael, or whatever his name is”.
Steve and Bucky shared a glance between each other but Steve decided to be the one to answer. “We got the answers, it was as Nat was explaining. Pierce wanted someone in the gang, spying and getting as close to us as possible and I guess they somehow managed to weasel their way in and tried to succeed with their plan to hit our weak spot”.
You took a deep breath to try and reduce the rising anxiety in the pit of your stomach before asking tentatively, “So what happens now? With Pierce I mean.”
“That’s a problem for another time, just need you to get better first”, Bucky interjected, lifting your hand to kiss the few fingers that were attached with clips or wires.
You tried to smile at him, wanting him to know how much you appreciate him but the feeling never met your eyes and this seemed to twist something in Steve and Bucky. Both of their demeanours changed, no longer were you looking at just your boyfriends but also the mafia boss and his second in command, mixing business with family.
Bucky began talking first, tone strong and husky, “This isn’t something we are taking likely. Sam’s already spent the last day and a half revisiting everyone’s past, making sure there are no other moles that have slipped through the cracks. No new faces are allowed anywhere near our home or you.”
As he spoke, you managed sure to nod your head and try to squeeze his hand in understanding. Steve shifted in his chair, capturing your attention as he continued the discussion. “You are safe and you should have been safe but we let you down, you were vulnerable when we weren’t there to protect you like we promised we would. We let you down, we broke our promise, we could understand if you didn’t want-”.
“Whatever you’re about to say you better forget about it right now”, you say sternly, heartbeat beginning to race on the monitor again as Steve’s mouth shut quickly with a snap. “The idea of being your weakness has always frightened me but, I could also be your greatest strength. I mean - Look at what you’ve been going just to protect the house, to protect me. I know you feel like you’ve let me down but I don’t feel let down in any way. Yes, of course, what’s happened is scary, especially in our home but I doubt it’ll ever happen again. They can try and tear us apart, they can try, but they won’t break us, they can’t break us. We have to remain on top ok? I always feel safe and trusted when I’,m with you both so please, don’t ever feel like I'm not because I am. I’ll always love you both, I’m not going anywhere”.
You sucked in air greedily after your short speech, the building emotions spilling freely everything you truly believed to the men beside you, not wishing for them to ever feel doubt for the relationship or how you felt.
Looking between them both, your heart sank as you noticed Bucky quickly wipe the corner of his eye. “I thought you said no more tears”, you spoke softly whilst trying to wipe away a stray tear.
“That’s before you decided to swoon me with your speech”, he quipped back, the light returning to his eyes once more as you laughed.
“I love you Bucky”.
“I love you, Doll”, standing from his chair, his metal hand stroked over the side of your face as he captured your lips with his, lingering for a few beautiful seconds before sitting back down.
Steve had lifted your hand during your speech and was kissing your palm and you reached out to stroke his beard, “I love you, Steve”.
He too stood, just as Bucky had but he kissed your forehead first, breathing you in for a moment before doing the same against your lips. “I love you too, so much baby”.
As Steve sat back down, your eyes began to feel heavy, all of the strong emotions exhausted you completely. “Will you both be here when I wake up? Not that I’m complaining about Natasha but she doesn’t spoon me like you both do”.
They both chuckle under their breath before Steve promises, “We aren’t going anywhere, sleep, Sweetheart”.
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saberlight1 · 3 months
Text
my love, mine all mine — lucy gray baird
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pairing(s): lucy gray baird x fem!reader, mentions of coriolanus snow x fem!reader.
warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, mentions of ptsd, trauma, angst, possessive!lucy, Y/N usage, slightly mean!lucy, standard ballad of songbirds and snakes warnings.
authors note: boom! another one. i am so happy you all love my writing! keep sending in these requests, y’alls ideas are so cool and i adore reading them. this fic is based off of this request, and i hope you all enjoy it! much love .
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When your eyes first laid upon Lucy Gray Baird, you were immediately enthralled by her presence. Everyone who had ever gotten the honor to meet her would say the same.
You had grown up in the very same district that her and her family, The Covey, were locked up in after being rounded up by the Peacekeepers. Most people around Twelve talked shit on them for being different, but the thing that drew you in the most to her was the fact that she didn’t give a shit.
She didn’t care what anyone thought, no one in her family did. They loved what they did, and that was singing. You saw this on full display at the Hob, where they performed every other night.
You already knew she was beautiful, but, God, when you saw her on that stage, beaming, you swore Aphrodite was standing before you. Her voice was just as beautiful as her, as she danced around stage, captivating the whole room.
At the end her performance, you snatched a daisy out of someone’s bouquet as you walked by, speed-walking to the corridor you were watching her walk into.
“Lucy Gray!” You called, the girl turning towards your call immediately, a smile still on her face. You held out the flower, a soft smile on your face. “You’re beautiful, as well as your singing.”
She blushed, her laugh coming out. “Why, thank you, darlin’.” She took the daisy, taking it up to her nose to smell. “What’s your name?”
“Y/N,” You beamed. “It’s a real pleasure to see you and your family around here. You really light it up ‘round here.” You complimented. “Twelve’s a normally dull place, but here.. it’s different.”
“Thank you, truly.” Her hand grabbed yours, squeezing. “I’ll see you around.”
And she kept her word, finding you after her next show to get to know you better.
And just like that, the pair of you were inseparable.
She introduced you to the Covey, and after they learned you had pipes, you were immediately brought into their group. You loved it, it felt as if you had found the people you’d been longing for your whole life.
But you found yourself staring at Lucy Gray for longer than normal, a dopey smile lazily draped across your sun kissed features. It wasn’t until some teasing from CeCe and Billy that you realized that you had feelings for the girl.
“Aye, Y/N, it seems like you got some drool right there…” CeCe teased, a playful smile on his face as they caught you staring at the girl for the 100th time.
Billy butted in from his side. “Yeah, you do. Someone’s fallin’ for the songbird,” He laughed. You rolled your eyes at them, before taking their words into consideration.
Holy fuck, you were falling for her.
I mean, how could you not? She was a beacon of light, her presence alone brighting up every room she walked into to, and she had treated you wonderfully, even going as far to include you with her family.
You were caught up in your love daze, not realizing the crushing realities that came with your feelings. But when you did, it left a sour taste in your mouth.
The butterflies swirling in your abdomen stopped in an instant, replaced with an oozing, grueling feeling of worry. Lucy Gray could find you repulsing— and the whole Covey would leave you as well.
It left you wishing you had a factory reset button to forget your feelings at once.
“Y/N, what’s with the frown?” Lucy Gray suddenly appeared in front of you, her signature smile on her cherry lips.
Your eyes snapped to hers, your nerves only growing. “Oh, nothin’. Just thinkin’.”
She sat down next to you. “Oh, really? Didn’t think you was capable.” She joked, making you lightly shove her with a smile.
Your breath caught in your throat when you realized how close you were to the girl. Her honey eyes stared up into yours, and you struggled to not look at her lips. All you wanted to do was close the space between the pair of you.
But you decided on that day that you would settle for this. After all— having her as a friend was better than nothing.
It wasn’t until the reaping of that year that you decided to throw caution to the wind.
It was the Covey’s first reaping, and it was for the annual 9th Hunger Games. Your nerves always got the best of you during this time of year, but it seemed that you weren’t the only one.
You sat in your room, Lucy Gray sitting at your desk in the corner. She said she was trying to write, but you could tell by the bouncing of her leg and her tense body that it wasn’t going well.
You licked your lips, putting your book aside. “You alright, Gray?”
She turned her head, her eyes meeting yours from over her shoulder. She sighed, turning back to the paper and rubbing her temple. “No,”
You stood up, coming to stand next to her, your hesitant hands rubbing her shoulders, the tense muscles deflating under your touch. “What’s wrong?”
“I.. I just really miss my mama.” She let out a sad breath. “And this reapin’ stuff is got my nerves wrecked.”
“I know the feelin’.” You bitterly chuckled. “You won’t get your name drawn, Lucy, none of you will. Your names are only in their once, your chances are slim. You should be okay. I miss my ma, too. I know it hurts.” You tried your best to calm her.
Her hand came up to grab yours that was resting on her shoulder, lacing your fingers together. “You know, you are about the only good thing in this District,” She smiled up at you, her worry lines faded.
At her words you felt those butterflies return, as your eyes flickered down to her lips, your teeth pulling in your bottom lip as you tried to talk yourself down.
Lucy Gray noticed this, however, and with a smile still plastered on her pretty face, she leaned up ever so slightly and captured your lips with her own. Your eyes widened in surprise, before they fluttered closed, your hands coming up to cup her face.
You let out a happy hum against her lips, the girl standing up to get a better grip on your hips, her lips never leaving yours. When you broke apart for air, a giggle left her slips at the sight of your lips stained with her lipstick.
“I’ve wanted you to do that for so long,��� You admitted with a smile.
A smirk grew across her face. “I was waitin’ for you to grow the balls to do it first. Turns out you were too chicken.” She teased, her arms wrapping around your neck as she left small pecks on your lips.
You didn’t even pretend to be offended by her words, instead rolling your eyes playfully before kissing her again.
“Be my girlfriend,” She whispered against your lips. You pulled back slightly at her words, before jumping into her arms.
“Yes, yes.” You chuckled, as the girl hugged you back just as tightly.
That led you to now, where you smiled at the same brunette that was laid in your arms. She was different, anyone who had been what she went through would be, but she was also still your same Lucy Gray in all the best ways.
After you got her back from the games, you vowed to never let her go again. The turmoil you felt in the weeks that she was away from you, not knowing if you’d see her again or not— you never wanted to feel that again. And she felt the same way.
“You got a starin’ problem, girl?” Lucy Gray teased with that southern drawl you loved, seeing that you were lost in thought.
A warm smiled crossed your face at the sound of her voice, your hand going to play with her hair. “If it means I get to look at you, then yes, I do.”
She giggled, snuggling deeper into your arms. “Yeah, yeah, you sap.”
“You love it,”
She rolled her eyes, playfully. “I do,” She looked at you seriously now, leaning up to kiss you softly. You smiled against her lips, the feeling of her expressing her love for you in such an intimate way always making you smile.
You would proudly admit that you were head over heels in love with your girlfriend to anyone. But you knew you couldn’t— hell, the only people that even knew you were together was the Covey and her mentor, Coriolanus Snow. People didn’t seem expect, nor accept your type of love.
She had told him during her time there, during the nights they spent together talking through the cage bars. She talked his ear off about you, a love-sick smile on her face the whole time, the girl forgetting that some people weren’t accepting of your love.
But to her surprise, Coriolanus didn’t care if she was with a girl. In fact, he was thrilled, which confused her to no end. (She didn’t know this, but the only reason he was happy was because he now had something that would fuel her to win.)
You thanked every star above for the Snow boy for bringing your girl back to you, even if she was brought back with sharper edges. You didn’t care, you had her back in your arms. And you wanted to thank him.
But, Lucy Gray was a different girl than what she was when she left, even if she tried to pretend that wasn’t the case. She was more paranoid, more protective of the people she loved— especially you. More than you anticipated.
So the next morning when you set out to find the boy who was currently serving time as a Peacekeeper in your very district, the one goal in your mind was to thank him, the thought that this might be upsetting to your girlfriend not even crossing your temple.
You decided to bring him a rose— Lucy Gray mentioning to you that his Grandmother grew them, and you just happened to as well. It wasn’t like the pure ones his Grandmother grew in the Capitol, but you deemed it good enough.
You caught a glimpse of his platinum buzzcut, a smile growing over your ruby red lips. “Snow!” You called, jogging up to him in your cowboy boots. He turned at the call, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw it was you.
“Y/N?” He questioned.
“Hey, Coriolanus.” You smiled, holding out the rose for him. “Lucy Gray mentioned something about your Grandmother and roses, and just as a thanks for you bringin’ her back to me, I’d like to give you this,” You motioned to the rose.
To your delight, his hard face warped into that of a smile. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly.” His hand came out to squeeze your forearm affectionately. “I appreciate it, and you don’t have to thank me for that.”
“I do.” You assured him. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t get her back. You saved her… so, truly, thank you, Coriolanus. I mean it.” You felt eyes on you, but you shook the feeling off.
He nodded sheepishly, not used to the type of compliment you were giving him. “Of course.. Thank you for the rose. Let me know if you need anything, I’ll see you around.” He smiled, giving your forearm one last squeeze before he turned.
“You’re welcome, Coryo.” You flashed him one last smile before you turned on your heel yourself. What you didn’t expect to see was to see those honey eyes you loved staring daggers at you.
You cocked your head to the side as she began to stomp her way towards you. Once she reached you, she grabbed your wrist with a hard grip, and without word dragged you back to your now shared home.
“Lucy, what’re you doing?” You asked, just as your neared the front lawn of your home.
She clicked her tongue, a sign she was mad, and shook her head, continuing to lead you to the house in silence. Once the pair of you got in, she threw her bag on your shared bed, crossing her arms.
“What the hell was that?” She asked, her tone hard.
“What are you talkin’ about, Lucy?” You asked, stepping closer to her. She only backed away, her head shaking once again, while you visibly shrank at her rejection.
“Don’t play dumb, Y/N. You know better,” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I been runnin’ around, lookin’ for you like some fool, while you were off with my mentor, lettin’ him touch you. Why were you with him, huh?” She pressed. “What, you think I’m stupid or somethin’?”
“Coriolanus?” Your eyebrows furrowed, still not quite catching on to what she was so angry about.
“Yes, damnit, him.” Her voice slightly raised as she walked up to you, her gaze lowered as she glared at you. “Why were you givin’ him a rose, huh? Why were his hands on you?”
You licked your lips as you took in her state. Her pupils were blown out, her jaw slack— God, she looked so hot when she was angry. You shook your head at your thoughts, trying to be serious.
“Aye!” Her fingers snapped in front of your face, angrily. “Answer me,”
“Lucy, I— I was goin’ to thank him..” You whispered, your voice dying in your throat as you submitted to her fiery gaze.
“Why?” Her voice was low and raspy, sending shivers down your spine.
“For bringin’ you back t’me.” You admitted, looking at the floor guiltily as it sunk in that how much you truly had upset her. “I never got the chance to properly thank him, and you said he liked roses. So I brought him one, I thought it would remind him of home. I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear,”
Her eyes softened. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry..” She whispered, one hand coming up to cup your jaw, rubbing softly. “I.. My mind went somewhere completely different when I saw him touchin’ you.. It just made me angry,”
A sly smirk came over your features. “I think you mean jealous, Lucy Gray.” You whispered teasingly.
“Only you could make me this crazy,” She smiled. “But, I am sorry.” She said, guilt swirling in her eyes.
“Hey, it’s alright.” You reassured her, seeing that she was beating herself up. “Even I get a little jealous seein’ Billy drape hisself on you when he’s shitfaced, it’s normal, baby, I ain’t mad.” Your goofy smile mixed with your southern accent making her smile come back.
But just as it returned, it was replaced with a serious look. “Just.. stay away from him, alright? I don’t fully trust ‘em.”
“I won’t go near him again, I promise. I just wanted him to know I was thankful for bringin’ my best girl back t’me,” You tried to cheer her up, your lips ghosting over hers.
“Good. ‘Cause your mine,” She smirked, closing the space between the two of you as her lips kissed you hard, her teeth nipping your bottom lip as you let out a gasp, granting her access to your mouth as she deepened the kiss.
You smiled against her lips, thanking the stars above that you had the pleasure of being hers.
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marvelseries19 · 3 months
Text
A CHRISTMAS IN NORWAY
Pairing: Leah Williamson x reader
Genre: Fluff
Summary: After two years of being together and on your second Christmas, you both decide to spend the holiday in your home country.
A/N: This is my first fic about real people, so please don't be too critical about it. I'm absolutely open to reading ideas, opinions, questions, etc. Just remember to be respectful. Be aware that I know nothing about Norway, and English is my second language. I know it's a little all over the place but I'm just trying to get out of the worst mental block I've ever had, also the ending might be a little rush, but I kinda ran out of inspiration at the end so, I just hope it makes sense.
Warnings: + 18, Suggestive
Word count: 0.9k+
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[You do not have permission to repost or translate any of my stories or claim them as yours]
Your room is softly lit by sunlight that seeps through the open curtains, creating a gentle glow on your bed's white comforter and helping to wake you up. The warmth of the sunlight creates a cozy and peaceful atmosphere, making it difficult to resist getting out of bed.
When you come to, there's a weight over your waist that belongs to your girlfriend's arm. You gradually stretch and turn to face the blonde, who has a happy smile on her face. You are enthralled by the way the morning light plays on her cheeks and the fluff of her lashes as she wakes up. You can't help but feel a surge of love and contentment as you realize how lucky you are to have her in your life.
You extend your hand and run a finger along her sharp jawline, causing her to smile drowsily. You exchange glances and appreciate, in silence, the wonder of this moment: the beauty of the snow-covered Norwegian landscape of your hometown, the closeness of being enveloped in each other's warmth, and the quiet of the winter morning.
"Good morning, Elske." You said it in a quiet voice, not wishing to shatter the peaceful atmosphere you two had built. She mumbled a good morning as she drew closer and hid her head in the crook of your neck. You could feel her lips brushing against your skin, leaving gentle kisses.
"How did you sleep?" You asked while gently drawing random shapes on her bare back, neither of you bothering to put some clothes on the night before. "I always sleep great when I'm with you." You could feel the smirk on her face on your neck. "Cheeky." You chuckled.
Suddenly, Leah detached herself from you, straddling your hips, the sheet falling from her frame, leaving her bare under your waze. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in closer. "I feel at disadvantage here." You uncovered yourself from the sheets as you met her gaze. A mischievous grin spread across your face. "Well, how about now?" The blonde couldn't hold it anymore, and she leaned down closer to your face. "Yeah, that works," she said while finally closing the distance between the both of you, locking her lips with yours. The kiss was electrifying, sending a rush of desire through your body. As your lips moved in sync, the room filled with an intoxicating mix of passion and anticipation. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in the heat of the moment.
You spend the next hour just basking in the love and warmth you found in each other before you decide to take a shower and go out for breakfast.
--
Walking hand in hand, the sound of your steps blends with the far-off cries of seagulls and the infrequent hum of a passing bicycle. The aged wooden structures with their colorful paint jobs and ornate facades that evoke earlier times serve as vivid reminders of the past. A soft golden light filters through the narrow streets, casting elongated shadows that dance along the colorful walls. The aroma of hot coffee and freshly baked bread wafts from the surrounding cafés, tempting you to follow your nose to find the perfect spot for breakfast.
After a while, Leah started to feel the cold. Lucky for her, you found a cozy cafe. Its wooden interiors and inviting warmth make it a refuge from the cold outside. As you step through the door, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the sweet scent of pastries, instantly enveloping both you and your girlfriend in a comforting embrace.
The place hums with a gentle buzz of conversation and the clinking of cups against saucers. Soft acoustic music plays in the background, adding to the relaxed atmosphere.
The menu boasts a delightful array of Scandinavian pastries—warm cinnamon rolls, flaky pastries filled with berries, and traditional Norwegian cakes—all displayed enticingly on the counter, enticing customers with their delectable taste.
It was an understatement to say that it was hard to make a choice, but since you would end up sharing whatever you ordered, it didn't matter that much. "This looks amazing; I don't know why we didn't come here sooner," Leah said while your order was placed in front of you. "I can't wait to dig in!"
"I'm glad you enjoy it, baby," you replied, eagerly grabbing your fork and taking the first bite. The food was incredibly delicious; Leah's eyes lit up with delight as she savored her first bite, her taste buds dancing with pleasure, and you couldn't take your eyes off of the blonde.
The start of the relationship had been a bit rocky, with both of you dancing around your feelings for a while. It took a rather harsh push from your friends to make you confess your feelings, and now you couldn't be more grateful for them.
"You're staring, you know?" She said it with a smirk on her face. "Well, can you blame me?" You replied, unable to resist her charm. "Thank you for coming with me, Elske." She grabbed your hand over the table, intertwining her fingers with yours. "There's no place I'd rather be, baby."
The rest of the day was filled with laughter, adventure, and kisses. You couldn't help but fall deeper in love with her while you showed her every place that meant something to you. As the sun sets, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you realize that you have found your soulmate. Well, rather confirmed that she was; after all, you knew that from the moment you met her. She was the missing piece to your puzzle. And you were hers.
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theoldsports · 3 months
Text
Matrimony
Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 5.7K words
SMUT 18+ ONLY. unprotected sex. possessiveness, flirting, drinking, body image/too tight dress, gaslighting.
THE WEDDING. FINALLY. CLICK HERE TO READ MORE.
The sheets in the large hotel bed were soft and smelled so clean. They lacked the heavy rose smell that lingered in the Snow home. It was a welcome change of pace.
Too bad [Y/N] had hardly slept a wink in them. She was too nervous. It was the day of her wedding, after all.
She didn’t hate Coriolanus. She had before, but she didn’t now, not really. Coriolanus had slept well last night, which he rarely did. He only slept a few hours a night too often. [Y/N] thought her nerves had increased due to the proximity of the wedding, Coriolanus’ had subsided as the day drew closer because it was likely that he thinking he was one day closer to fully having [Y/N] under his thumb. But whoever knew what Coriolanus was thinking?
[Y/N] was worried about saying I love you and I do. She knew Coriolanus didn’t want her to be so anxious about it and reminded her, with a kiss to her forehead each time, that she could do it. He loathed being supportive, but he was getting better at pretending. It was less exhausting for him now.
If nothing else, tonight would be a party and a party meant she would drink and eventually she would blackout, if she was lucky. And Coriolanus would get her back upstairs to their hotel room and fuck her good and hard, so he would be happy. And they would wake up still wed the next morning. And he would be still be haughty and she would still be discontented. And that would be the first day of the rest of their lives.
[Y/N] had watched Coriolanus leave quietly through the door nearly an hour before. The few moments of rest she was able to get from her night of sleep ceased when he pulled his arm off of its nightly home on her waist. He had turned over his shoulder to look at her from the door before he left. One final good, long look. It was funny. Coriolanus never took the time to look back at her. [Y/N] snapped her eyes shut when Coriolanus rocked his weight back onto his heels. [Y/N] hoped he hadn’t seen her blush or fluttering eyelashes. [Y/N] got so excited at the simplest gesture from him. If she were a less careful woman, she may have almost smiled.
He looked at me.
The brief joy was gone with Coriolanus and he was now long gone. [Y/N] finally rolled over to step out of the bed. Her new silk white nightgown alluded to her future that evening. [Y/N] sighed. Her hand crunched against something paper beside her. Coriolanus must have left something. [Y/N] glanced to her right. A white rose from the vase he had requested on the bedside table, free of thorns. [Y/N] smirked. Of course. There was also a note in his curly, slanted script.
Darling,
Big day. It’s likely the next time I see you will be at the alter. Remember, you have nothing to be nervous about. I’ve got you.
And don’t lace your corset so tight you can’t breathe. You’ve got dancing to do.
C.B.S.
He was so good at baiting her into comfort that [Y/N] almost forgot it was baiting. She took at deep breath. I’ve got you. Coriolanus still had not seen the dress, but his educated guess about the corset was spot on. He was always spot on. He paid too close attention. It was shocking that Coriolanus could oscillate from obvious manipulation and intimidation to the man that cared for [Y/N]. Unless the second part was more elaborate manipulation too.
[Y/N] went to the bathroom to piss.
Dark spots on her neck and chest greeted her. They never really faded away. Coriolanus would find new places for them, or mark over the old ones. [Y/N] liked how they looked and certainly how they felt to receive. But what a pain they were to conceal! She should have known better and acquired a high-necked gown way back when. It was a winter wedding, so it wouldn’t have looked out of place.
The beauty parlor would be able to work some of that Capitol magic on them.
[Y/N] looked in the mirror over the sink in the bathroom with the pristine black tile and giant bathtub. She smiled vapidly. That was that. By the end of the day, she would officially be a wife. Her identity would be defined by Coriolanus.
Once, she smiled because her poor decisions would reflect boldly on Coriolanus. Now, [Y/N] worried because it was the other way around. She was a permanent extension of Coriolanus and his aspirations and desires the second she had his name.
She sighed. For better or worse.
[Y/N] crept down to the hotel lobby in large green sunglasses and a hotel robe. It was turquoise. It was a terrible color. Coriolanus would have hated it. She lost her purple sunglasses after the Flickerman interview. Coriolanus did like that. He hated those sunglasses too. The green ones were better to him. A small part of [Y/N] liked knowing that Coriolanus was pleased by what she wore.
She glanced around. No sight of Coriolanus. She didn’t want to break tradition. There was no more room for things going wrong in her life. Across the lobby, [Y/N] went towards the beauty parlor and the wedding shop. She had gone through so many catalogs of dresses and hairstyles and everything must be perfect, only for her to allow to be handled by beauticians who were strangers at the last minute.
Then the hands landed on her waist. [Y/N] gasped, readying herself to scream. The hands pulled her to firm chest and the hands turned into arms, wrapping around her waist and pulling her back beside a ficus and a fern.
She looked down and saw the hands. Pale white hands with rings and a loose bracelet.
Coriolanus Snow, rigid, but never one for following the rules.
“Coriolanus!” [Y/N] squeaked. “You’re not supposed to see me yet. Let go!”
“That’s a silly old story. Saw you this morning.” He whispered with a smirk, holding [Y/N] waist tight.
“It’s… yeah, but—“
“Thought I wasn’t supposed to see the dress. But you—“
“I don’t wanna ruin today—“
“Fine! Fine! Just let me look at you one more time and I’ll let you go,” Coriolanus said. He spun [Y/N] to face him easily. His eyes slid from her eyes through glasses, down her face, her neck, her breasts, back up to her neck. That’s where his eyes greedily stopped. His finger tickled the skin on the right side of her neck where he had left a dark bruise. [Y/N] laughed a little and slotted her face into his hand.
“No thanks to you, the ladies in the parlor will have to work harder on me today.” [Y/N] said, referencing the marks.
“Don’t cover them.” Coriolanus said simply.
“What?”
Coriolanus smiled softly. “Don’t cover them. You look very beautiful.”
“Yeah, didn’t know you had such a sense of humor, Coryo. Could’ve fooled me,” [Y/N] smirked. “It’s our wedding.”
“So?”
“So…” There was no good argument. [Y/N] had done much worse before. They both knew that. She huffed.
“Fine,” he conceded. “Do whatever you want. I’m just saying, if I had to take my shirt off for some reason tonight, my back looks three times worse than your neck.”
[Y/N] blushed. “Yeah, but you eliminated your argument by saying that. Because you are wearing a suit. I’m wearing a low-cut dress.”
Coriolanus gritted his teeth. He was going to say something harsh. He refrained. “So the dress is low-cut?” He asked, raising a brow.
“Fuck!” [Y/N] exclaimed. “No. No more. I’m going,” she tried to pull away from Coriolanus. “Let me go. I’m going. I’ve ruined it,” she jabbed a finger in his chest. “You cursed us. We’re cursed. That’s bad luck.”
“If anyone cursed us,” Coriolanus let go of her waist. “It was you, Darling.” He called as she walked away. [Y/N] shuddered as crossed her arms. He hadn’t meant it, had he? God, he loved it when he made her nervous.
[Y/N] had some bridesmaids. She did not love that she had to share the stage and the big fluffy dresses with the ladies, but here she was. Lysistrata was her Maid of Honor. She wanted it to be Clemensia, but Coriolanus said no.
After that, Clemensia refused to be in the wedding party at all. Too bad.
[Y/N] thought she looked good in her white snowy gown. Lovely even. But she was too nervous to focus on much of that beauty.
Everyone would nitpick her dress, her hair, her body, why she of all people was unbreakably becoming the Capitol’s darling’s Darling, among other things. The pressure was high. [Y/N] had not been able to make herself cry either, which was unusual for her. The woman wanted to claw at her skin and tear it off from the itching, nerves and impatience.
Would Coriolanus finally love her tomorrow? Or would he ignore her now that she was belted in permanently as his plaything. [Y/N] didn’t want to be used only when Coriolanus wanted. She would have bitten her nails if they weren’t so well-manicured.
[Y/N] inhaled. Her corset was too tight and she was so nervous. The breath came out ragged. It didn’t relieve her the way that a deep breath was supposed to. She thought back to Coriolanus’ note: And don’t lace your corset so tight you can’t breathe. She hadn’t listened well enough. [Y/N] did not want him to be mad at her. She reached back with shaking hands to try and loosen it, but she couldn’t manage.
I’ve got you.
When she sat down on the bench in the hallway outside of the venue to wait for her father to walk her down the aisle, the pressure shift made the bottom half of her dress’ corset tightened more. The dress was stunning, it was a true. A ballgown, a favorite style of [Y/N]’s. It was indeed low-cut with a beaded white corset pressing her breasts higher. It didn’t make her feel whorish, but it helped her feel beautiful. Over that, she had a wintery long-sleeved translucent mesh top. It was white and was covered with speckles that looked like snow in the places where snow might catch as it sprinkled down. Her veil was less traditional and didn’t cover her face completely. [Y/N] felt freer in it, and Coriolanus wouldn’t have to wrestle with it. Under it, she wore the red heels she had worn at their engagement party. It was sentimental, but that night was one of the first actual lovely memories she had of Coriolanus. Was that memory meant to be lovely? [Y/N] was unsure. She decided she would remember it that way. If she didn’t, she would lose her mind at what she had done to herself.
I’ve got you.
Everything had to be lovely.
The wedding had to be lovely.
“[Y/N],” Her father said, approaching her in a loud colored tuxedo. Gaudy. Tacky. “Stand. Let me look at you,” He muttered, extending his arm to her. [Y/N] did as she was told like she was a child again. The man could barely look at her. They had spoken for the first time since their engagement party at the rehearsal dinner the day prior. Her father was pleased to leave the burden of his disappointment on another man. [Y/N] shifted and did a small spin for her father before taking his arm. She could hear the orchestra playing inside the venue along with the chatter. [Y/N]’s looming father reached behind her and grabbed the ties of her corset and pulled the ends tighter. Her breath hitched. “That’s better.” Her father said. Then, he proceeded to the door to finally give her away.
[Y/N]’s head swam. She had already been laced into the damn corset for what felt like too long but in reality had been a bit over an hour. She coped by taking shallow breaths from her chest and staring straight ahead, unblinking.
The doors parted. [Y/N] hadn’t even realized that had been pulled in front of the doors to the event hall itself. All white and red, like most winter weddings were meant to be, but white and red the way Coriolanus (and by extension [Y/N] now) liked. The bouquet, forgotten, was held straight and clutched tighter. [Y/N] lacquered her smile back on. Being in front of everyone she had ever known made her dizzy. Everyone she had ever known gasped and smiled in delight at her. The music changed. She walked. She wanted to puke. Eventually, she was at the alter. Her ribs ached. Her chest burned. [Y/N] smiled wider.
Coriolanus. His loose blonde curls were determinedly tamed, slicked behind his ears. His unruly hair never did what anyone commanded, so it was an impressive feat. Black tux, white bow tie, red rose; standard. His shoes were also red. Those were new. Did he think about her red shoes from that night often too? Had he snooped and seen her shoes in her tote bag last night even though she told him not to? It must have been his intuition. Best not to read into it. Coriolanus Snow liked red.
He also wore gloves. White and dapper. He looked so clean. Those gloves made sure not a trace of the cruelty he was capable of was visible. No trace left behind.
[Y/N]’s father deposited her in front of Coriolanus with an obligatory kiss to her forehead and walked away. She couldn’t recall walking to the alter. Her knees shook. Coriolanus was tall. Had he always been so tall?
Effortlessly, Coriolanus leaned forward and wrapped his hands behind her waist. [Y/N] thought he had just meant to place his hands on her too-narrow waist to greedily admire what he was capable of manipulating her body into. Instead, he loosened it.
I’ve got you.
What a beautiful scene that must have been. [Y/N] inhaled deeply through her nose as if she had risen from the dead. The world around her felt real again. Everything looked real. “Thank you.” She gasped.
Coriolanus kissed her forehead, much like her father had. Power shown as repetition and reversal of action. “I thought I told you not to cinch it so much.” He whispered softly. Coriolanus tipped her chin up with the fingers under his white leather glove. The pictures of that moment would later be so beautiful.
“I didn’t.”
“Somebody did, Darling… Silly. These are pretty, though.” Coriolanus whispered away from prying microphones. He dragged his finger across her neck, meaning some of the marks she had left uncovered on a stupid whim that was about to share a last name with her, but showcasing her pearl necklace instead.
“For you,” [Y/N] panted back sarcastically. “Can we get on with it?”
“Romantic.” Coriolanus scoffed and leaned away from [Y/N]’s ear. His shoulders unrolled to their full and staggering height, beautiful beast that he was. Coriolanus took [Y/N]’s hand that did not hold a bouquet of red roses in his. She swore she had imagined the circle Coriolanus has ghosted over the back of her hand.
The officiant of the wedding was beckoning everyone to sit. [Y/N] hadn’t realized the attendees had been standing. The officiant wore black as well. He was disgracefully old. [Y/N] looked out the massive picture window over Coriolanus’ shoulder. There was snow outside, too.
The old, frail man cleared his throat and held his arms open to the congregation. “A true lasting marriage requires effort, commitment, and unending understanding. As [Y/N] and Coriolanus declare their partnership on this day, we reflect on the meaning of partnership and its importance to a successful union. Partners, in life, think of one another as capable, but each arriving with their own special skills.” At these words, [Y/N] scoffed. She wondered if Coriolanus thought her capable. Coriolanus stared down at her. No love. No hatred either. He looked at her stoically. She wanted him to look down at her with something. Usually, he did. She wanted an iota of anything.
What happened to I’ve got you.
“Marriage is rarely equal. In marriage, you will often be required to honor commitments you cannot fully understand. The mark of a successful marriage is that you meet these commitments with patience, honesty, and love—even as you fail.
“Over time, you will realize that the burdens placed upon you by life are not loads to be carried—they are opportunities. Each day is an opportunity to be shared with your partner; the dawn of each day brings new experiences.”
[Y/N] felt like vomiting. This was burdensome. Not a burden, a weight. Would Coriolanus help her lift it? Or would he leave her to roll the boulder up the hill each morning on her own? He promised that he would; that he had her back, that he would help, that she would never be left to struggle alone again.
“Your rings and your vows, please.” The old man sputtered. Coriolanus removed his gloves to tuck into his pocket and exposed his beautiful hands. [Y/N] wondered if he had ever played piano. Likely not. He did not own a piano. His hands indicated that he would have been natural to it.
He procured two white gold rings from his breast pocket. One thicker for his own large hand, one daintier with three very small rubies to go with the massive ruby in the daintier still engagement ring. Coriolanus passed her the one meant for his finger.
Now came the part that had [Y/N] worried. Both the words themselves and the memorization of such words. Coriolanus was to begin. Naturally.
Coriolanus inhaled deeply. His chest jumped under his white tie. [Y/N] nearly guessed he was nervous. How could a creature like that get nervous? “I, Coriolanus Snow, take thee, [Y/N] [L/N], to be my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.” He spoke deceptively calmly. His voice boomed with an authoritarian edge. He had a completely different voice in public than he did in their bedroom. After the words were passed his lips, he smiled. Finally. Finally, he attempted to reveal a feeling. He slid the ring down her left ring finger to its final resting place.
“I, [Y/N] [L/N], take thee, Coriolanus Snow, to be my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey,” the word that had made her so nervous. Once she said it, everything felt much lighter. The hardest part was over. [Y/N] took that last step to give herself to Coriolanus. He had everything of hers, and now he had her ring finger too. She felt she had rushed the beginning of this vow, so she took her time with the little that remained. “Till death us do part.” [Y/N] concluded as a wife. She pressed his ring onto his ring finger. Slow. Coriolanus couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
[Y/N] dragged her eyes from the hand that dried her tears and gripped her throat, to the eyes that hungered for every morsel of her. [Y/N] handed her bouquet to the woman, whichever one stood closest behind her, and clasped both of her hands against Coriolanus’, like she was supposed to. She would be the best at doing what she was supposed to. From this day forward, [Y/N] would find that she was capable at something and do it effortlessly for Coriolanus. There was no other option.
Lastly, the Capitol’s undying wedding tradition. Handfasting. The officiant spoke again with clinical and precise rhythm. “Handfasting is an old and venerable tradition that dates back more than ten thousand years. As I wrap this ribbon around your hands, I want you to think about what you think marriage means.” The traditional narrow red ribbon cinched together their palms like a corset.
Marriage was… what, a partnership? A trap, a cage… [Y/N] thought back to the beginning of the ceremony. A burden? No. An… Opportunity. Coriolanus Snow was an opportunity. He took a chance with her and her bullshit everyday. She did the same. Everyday would be an opportunity that she would take at all costs. [Y/N] would make it work.
I’ve got you.
“Marriage will deepen your commitment to one another and strengthen the respect and support you each bring to your relationship.
“Your challenge is to grow with one another, to offer each other compassion and understanding, and to take each new challenge and adventure as it comes as a team. With each wrap of the ribbon, I give my blessing as an officiant that your marriage will be so. Let this bond be strong. Let this bond be eternal. I now pronounce you, Mr. and Mrs. Coriolanus Snow.”
As the pair’s hands were cinched even nearer together, [Y/N]’s eyes caught Coriolanus’ in prolonged eye contact. They both looked light. Relieved. It was over. The hard part was over. She swore she even saw Coriolanus smile— not smirk.
“Mr. Snow, you may now kiss your bride.”
Coriolanus did not waste even a second. He tipped his bound hands up and used the force of the action to pull [Y/N] to him. Their lips met in a searing, stinging kiss. Coriolanus pressed down against her, [Y/N] neck strained from turning her head up.
Everything was a blur. There was the dance floor, the drinks Coriolanus kept bringing, the hand locked on [Y/N]’s waist. The delicious cake. [Y/N] had smashed a forkful into Coriolanus’ pristine pale face. He had looked both surprised and upset, but he didn’t say anything like the good husband he was becoming. Plus he got the opportunity to get [Y/N] back and do twice the damage. He did this swiftly. Everyday in a marriage was an opportunity. Or something.
[Y/N] had been introduced to many important people Coriolanus worked with but he kept her too drunk and dumb to do much more than nod and keep her up arm protectively glued to Coriolanus’ arm. Especially around some of the prettier woman. She hated seeing his white teeth flash at those other woman. How could they smile like that at him with his wife in her gown right there?
[Y/N] stumbled to the bar for a whisky sour. While she waited on the bartender to mix her drink, she glanced through the bright flashing lights at her husband. The fair-haired man was sitting at their table, chatting with one of his University ‘friends’ that had stopped by to wish them well. [Y/N] glanced back at the bartender.
“Congrats.” The bartender said. [Y/N] squinted at his name tag but barely registered what it said.
“Thank you.” She replied, folding her hands on the bar.
“Some wedding. Very beautiful. You look very beautiful. That’s a hell of a dress, too. Is it hard to move in?”
“No, not really.” [Y/N] smiled slightly.
“Your husband’s been back and forth the the bar a ton. He pretty drunk by now?” Bold. Why had the bartender asked that?
[Y/N] her head. “Most of those were for me. So. How about that whisky sour, hm?” She said, her smile getting tighter and tighter-lipped.
“A man like that would make me wanna drink too.”
[Y/N] had spent much of her relationship with Coriolanus feeling that way, but hearing it from someone else made her upset. She did not like hearing anyone say a damn word about him. Only she was allowed to be upset about Coriolanus. Her eyes narrowed at him. “Excuse me?”
“He’s… He’s tough, no? Cold. Hard exterior. Guys like that freak me out. You seem very different from him. I mean, fuck. Look what he did to your neck. You let him do that? He make you do that?” He shrugged too casually. The stranger was taking much too long to mix a whisky sour. It was an easy drink. How many had he already unknowingly made for her tonight?
“Different maybe,” she started. “But he doesn’t freak me out at all. He doesn’t… Make me do things I don’t want to,” Lie. Not right now, but sometimes, lie. “You don’t know him.”
“Sure, sure, I’m just trying to make conversation.”
“Odd topic choice.”
“Is it?” The man smiled. “I’ve been to enough of these weddings to know that girls like you rarely fall for men like him. Usually, there’s some crying bride at the bar because her parents said they would disown her if she didn’t marry some guy like your blondie over there. You’re keeping it together fairly well, doll.”
“Make the damn drink.” [Y/N] replied.
“Jeez, lady. Just trying to—“
“I think the lady told you to make the damn drink,” Came Coriolanus’ voice and his arm squeezing squeezing like a vice around her waist. She didn’t know how much more that waist could take. “Darling, is this man bothering you?” He asked quietly.
If she said yes, the bartender’s tongue would be cut out, or worse. The young man didn’t know; he had been trying to be nice. But it felt so good when Coriolanus came to her rescue and she had to practice positive reinforcement every now and then.
[Y/N] decided she would do her favorite thing: cry. Coriolanus couldn’t ever ignore her tears. [Y/N] knew her husband loved to fix a bird with a broken wing like herself. She sniffled and blinked a few times, staring dead at the bartender, before the tears started to fall.
“Yes. He is bothering me.” She said. The bartender looked appalled at the psychotic display. Clearly, he had misread her situation. [Y/N] knew she was capable of being nearly as rotten as Coriolanus. This man standing in front of her was about to face the consequences of assumptions. [Y/N] looked up at Coriolanus and placed a hand on his chest. He understood exactly what she wanted. Causing their first scene as a married couple. Milestone.
Coriolanus tightened his grip on her. “Look,” Coriolanus squinted at the bartender’s name tag. “Brutus. Hm. Brutus, do you know what that name means?” He condescended.
“Strong.” The bartender replied, putting his shaker down cautiously.
“Really? Well, I suppose it could contextually. Though, I was under the impression it meant dull,” Coriolanus scoffed. “What have you done, Brutus, to upset my wife so much?” He said Brutus as if he were saying dull.
“N-nothing. Just making conversation.”
Coriolanus smirked and [Y/N]’s grin echoed his, but her teeth were straighter. They both liked it when they had someone uncomfortable enough to stumble over their words. “Just making conversation? Did he touch you, dear?” Coriolanus asked. The punishment for touching her would be losing a hand or two. The fellow made a decent drink. She didn’t want him to lose that gift.
[Y/N] sniffled, tugging at Coriolanus’ heartstrings. “No,” sniffle. “He was only running his mouth. He thinks I sh-shouldn’t have married you.”
Coriolanus dragged his blue eyes between [Y/N] and Brutus. “Why shouldn’t we be married?” Coriolanus asked too easily. It was a trap. Brutus shook his head and opened his mouth to speak. “No, please, go ahead. I’m just making conversation. What was it that you said to my wife, here? I’m curious now.”
There was silence. Brutus hung his head uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Sir. [Y/N] knew Coriolanus would like that.
“Jealous? Think you could please my wife better than I could? Am I on the right track?” Coriolanus leaned down to press his lips against weeping [Y/N]’s neck from behind as he spoke to Brutus.
Drunk and dumb from the stress, the alcohol and his touch, [Y/N] reached her hand up to tangle it into Coriolanus’s curls. He didn’t protest for once. Her fingers cut through his hair product and lodged in place, giving his hair a gentle tug. “How’s this for you?” Coriolanus murmured, staring at Brutus and touching [Y/N] disgustingly.
[Y/N] wasn’t sure if it lasted minutes or hours, staring the bartender down like that. Coriolanus pulled her into the lobby and up the stairs to their hotel room. She couldn’t remember exactly if Coriolanus had made the two of them say a proper goodnight to the remaining party attendees. She still had her shoes on, so she would settle for being impressed with herself for that.
Coriolanus unlocked the door to their room and propped it open with some difficulty.
“What are you doing?” She asked tiredly.
“Well, Mrs. Snow, you went on about so many little traditions this week, so I figured I would gift you this.” Coriolanus scooped [Y/N] clumsily into his arms and carried her over the threshold of the room. [Y/N] smiled at his gesture.
Coriolanus walked with her in his grasp until he set her down on the bed with a muted thump. He turned back to the door and closed it. [Y/N] stared up at Coriolanus as he returned. The jacket of his tux and his red shoes had vanished on his walk back.
[Y/N] was quite surprised that Coriolanus had remained in what seemed to be such a decent mood for him all day. The smile or smirk or snarl still lingered on his plush mouth. “Hi.” [Y/N] said.
“Hello,” Coriolanus replied, cocking his head. “That dress really is something else,” he said. His eyes wandered grotesquely over her body. “What did your family think?”
“Barely saw my mother. She was at the bottom of a bottle of posca. Father thought my corset was too loose.” She wiped the remaining wet spots from tears off of her cheeks.
Coriolanus nodded knowingly. “Ah, so you can follow instructions. It was him that locked you in that thing…” his eyes hadn’t moved from her breasts which threatened to spill from her top from laying at this angle. “May I help you out of it?”
She blushed red. “The note you left…” [Y/N] started. “Sweet, by the way. How did you know it was corseted. Did you peek?” She slurred.
“Lucky guess,” Coriolanus said too quickly for the remark to be truthful. “Do me a favor and obey your husband. Turn over. I want it off.”
[Y/N] popped off her memorable red heels and rolled gracelessly onto her stomach so that Coriolanus could undress her how he liked. He crept onto the bed and straddled her thighs with some difficulty from the dress’ bulk. His fingers got to work with the silk cord. [Y/N]’s ability to take low, full breaths increased with each movement of his nimble fingers. “Coryo, what’ll happen to that man from the bar…” [Y/N] quietly.
“That’s none of your concern. He’ll be dealt with for the way he spoke to you, don’t worry,” Coriolanus said, undoing the buttons of her dress now. “No one’s going to get away with speaking to my wife like that. Not now, not ever,” My wife, not you. Because he loved her and they were eternally bound. Or because she was an extension of his existence— nobody talked to him like that. Coriolanus manipulated her body like a doll to get her out of her wedding dress until she was down to her snow white lingerie and garters. “Fuck.” He said at the sight with eyes as wide as saucers.
“It’s adequate?”
“More than adequate,” In an instant, Coriolanus was on her. He was unclipping her garters and pulling her dampened lacy panties down. “You’ve outdone yourself, Mrs. Snow.”
“Fuck me. Please. Really. Not just fingers, or something.”
“Hm,” Coriolanus started. “I should marry you more often.”
Coriolanus pulled off his own trousers and boxers without complaint. [Y/N] sighed happily. “Tell me you love me.” She said.
“What?”
“I don’t care if you don’t mean it. Tell me you love me.” She stressed. [Y/N] wanted the silhouette of a normal wedding night even if it wasn’t one.
Coriolanus said his I love yous while he expertly rubbed [Y/N] clit, who cares if he was sincere or not. Neither one of them knew if he was sincere or not and either would do well enough.
The sex, however, was anything but transactional.
By the look of it, Coriolanus had long been hard in his pants. [Y/N] knew exerting some sort of power over that man at the bar in her honor would have gotten him all riled up. After noticing [Y/N] was already shockingly wet, he pressed his hands into the pillows beside her head and pushed his cock into her easily. “Damn. You’re so wet,” he grunted. Coriolanus scrunched his blue eyes shut. He began to set a pace; much slower than he normally would, less brutal too. He was gentle. Almost. Completely gentle was not a setting he came equipped with.
Coriolanus had never fucked [Y/N] without protection before (that [Y/N] could remember, at least). She made no move to stop him. They didn’t have any barriers left to worry about since they were married. Both silently agreed to never go back. He felt so much better in her this way.
[Y/N] moaned when his right hand moved between them to keep stimulating her. “Good, that’s good,” She said, reaching up to grip his shoulders. Her hands crept further up to grab his hair. She loved his hair, even if he fought hard against her about it so often. “Is this good for you?” [Y/N] whispered.
Coriolanus snapped his icy eyes open and plunged his head into her cleavage in reply. The lacy bra she wore was in his way, even if he thought it did [Y/N] beautiful favors. With one hand and his teeth, he ripped the bra right down the middle. “Better now,” he smirked darkly. Coriolanus slid one of her nipples past his lips. Coriolanus could conduct her moans and pants like a symphony. He knew exactly how to get his most desire response out of her. Coriolanus fucked and rubbed faster, but resisted sliding a hand around her throat and squeezing. At least for the first round as a married couple.
She could get used to the soft way he touched her. Mr. and Mrs. Snow. This caring front felt like it could almost last forever to [Y/N]. Too bad it was a front. She let out a high breathy gasp. The sound she knew he liked best.
Coriolanus was glad they had no plans tomorrow. One more sound like that and his hand would have no choice but to squeeze around her windpipe. She was always so beautiful like that. He changed his mind from weeks before as he looked at her from sucking at her nipples.
This is how he wanted to remember his Mrs. Snow. Makeup dripping, moaning beyond control, eyes rolled back and ripped and fucked out of her dress and lingerie. Because only he could make her feel like that for the rest of her life.
“I love you.” [Y/N] breathed, but she didn’t mean it, not really.
“I love you too.”
It was almost the truth.
TAGLIST:
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runningfrom2am · 4 months
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leveling the playing field II
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summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.8k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. also someone dies (but its not too graphic), mentions of blood and violence you guys get the vibes.
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a/n: embarrassed to say this is grabbing me by the cuff of my shirt and yanking me out of writer's block sorry to everyone who followed for drew's characters lmao. anyway idek if any of this is any good but as long as i'm writing something i'm pleased.
next part
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Coriolanus clenched his jaw as he watched you eat from the plate of fruit your maid brought up after you called for tea, hoping that somehow you would just miss the sound of his stomach growling. He had said no, but you insisted because you were hungry. You don't even know what hungry feels like- he's already regretting letting you help him.
"So," You start, covering your mouth as you finish chewing so you could get down to strategy. If you were going to help, you had to go at this wisely. "What is your plan? Lay it out for me. I'll give you my thoughts."
"I talked to Tigris, she agreed that I need to get Lucy Gray to trust me." He tells you. "She said she would want someone here to care about her. That will have to be me."
"Okay." You nod, reaching for another slice of apple on the plate, trying to ignore the way his eyes track the fruit all the way from your plate to your lips. "So, I'm doing a more behind-the-scenes thing. I think that's better, for us and her. I don't want her to be overwhelmed."
"Yeah." Coryo agrees, staring at you. At this point, it's driving you crazy.
"Coryo." You state, pushing the dish across the coffee table in his direction. "Eat. Please."
"No, I couldn't." He tries to politely decline and you raise an eyebrow at him.
"I insist. It was made for two, I can't possibly stomach it all. It would be a shame for it to go to waste." You had laid your cards out just minutes earlier, making it clear you both knew more about each other's home lives than you cared to discuss, but that didn't mean you would torture him with it.
He hesitates before grabbing a slice and taking a few bites, looking past you and out the window. He wouldn't want it to go to waste like you said, after all.
"I won't tell anyone, you know." You say, your tone walking a line between joking and being serious. He'll interpret that in whatever way he chooses, and you're okay with that.
"I should be going, actually." He says, dropping the other half of the apple slice back onto the dish and standing up, smoothing the creases in his slacks.
You stand up as well, making your way to the door and ringing the bell that summons your maid. "I'll walk you out, just give me a second." You explain to him, and by the time you're done your sentence, she is there looking at you expectantly. "Take these leftovers and pack them up for my friend." You tell her, pointing to the mostly full plate. "And pack some of those pastries you made for his family as well, if you don't mind. Oh! And that bread, it will go bad soon if someone doesn't eat it." She just nods silently as you speak, walking past you to take the plate before leaving.
"Thank you." Coriolanus mutters through gritted teeth once your maid is out of earshot.
"Like I said," You smile. "I don't want it to go to waste."
The morning the tributes arrived, Coriolanus was late to class. He had never been late to class, not once, and you would know- because you hadn't either. Not that you were worried, but it was almost the only thing you could think about. It was odd, but he must have gone to greet Lucy Gray. That would be the only thing that made sense.
"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules, Mister Snow." Dean Highbottom says as the blonde boy walks in, uniform disheveled as he finds his seat across the room from you.
You make eye contact only briefly with him as the Dean goes on about how endangering the life of a student is against the rules, and your friend would be accumulating a demerit over the whole thing.
From what you can gather, he did go see Lucy Gray, which went farther than he intended when he ended up escorting her all the way into the monkey cage at the zoo. To you, that was comically appropriate. To Sejanus, it was a crime. Of course it was, his heart never left District Two. As much as you had your differences, Sejanus was a kind boy. You did like him, only after you got it through your mind that if you were to leave the Capitol, you would always be Capitol at heart. You're pulling on a loose string on the hem of your uniform sleeve, more, more, until you've almost undone the whole length of your wrist. When the thread breaks you want to hit something, for little to no reason, and you bite into your bottom lip.
You don't even know why you're so mad. You have a short fuse and you know that, maybe it's about Coryo. Maybe it's about your sleeve that's now slightly longer on one side.
You're drawn from your thoughts as Clemensia stands up from her seat next to Coryo, addressing Dr. Gaul who, as far as you know, had only been in the room for a minute or so. "Coriolanus and I do all our assignments together, I think it would be fitting for us to write up the proposal together too. I have some good ideas for things to be incorporated into the games along with betting." Your eyes roll so hard at this that it makes your head ache.
"I brought her a rose from Grandma'am's garden and she ate it. She needs food." Coryo tells you, walking alongside you down the hall.
"I'll get something together for her. Would you like to come with me to pick it up and then we can go to the zoo?" You ask, adjusting your shoulder bag as he holds the front door open for you.
"Okay. Are you sure you should come?"
"If you would like me to." You shrug, leading him in the direction of your parent's town car.
He thinks on it for a moment. Does he want you to meet Lucy Gray? You were technically also her mentor, even if you were taking a backseat. It struck him again, harder somehow, when he met her in person how similar she was to you. Besides the distinct accent, every word that came out of her mouth sounded as though it could have been written in a script by you. If you were district, that is. It was hard to wrap his mind around.
"I would." He finally answers, more so on impulse than resulting from his thought process.
You smile, linking your arm around his as you approach the vehicle.
"Then we can drop you at Clem's. if you'd like." You offer bitterly and he just gives a curt nod in response.
After getting your maid to pack some food for Lucy Gray with some extra for the two of you, assuming you would be gone for the evening, you got a ride to the zoo. The atmosphere was exciting, with people and children crowding the bars- this time including a few of your classmates. Sejanus, which you had expected, and Arachne- no doubt there to get attention.
"Lucy Gray!" Coryo called out, summoning the girl toward the two of you as you approached the bars marking the edge of the enclosure.
"Well hello, Coriolanus. You brought a friend, care to introduce us?" She smiles, looking between the two of you. Admittedly, you admire her poise, given the situation. Politeness in front of the cameras was a must- she's doing an exemplary job in humanizing herself.
"Lucy Gray, this is my friend Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, meet Lucy Gray." He nods between the two of you and you reach through the bars to shake her hand.
"Hello. Pleasure to meet you." You smile at her, which she returns.
"You as well." She nods, clearly impressed as she looks between you and Coryo. You had decided back at your home to not introduce yourself as another mentor, just as a friend, after gushing the reaction to the other tributes thinking Lucy Gray was getting special treatment this morning when her mentor was the only one to show up. "Coriolanus, is Miss Y/L/N here your sweetheart?"
His face flushes red as he shakes his head, refusing to look at you. You laugh, not noticing his change in undertone as you answer for him. "No, no. Just a friend." You explain, digging in your bag for her food, wanting to quickly change the subject. "We brought you this." You hold out the napkin for her, containing a sandwich, a couple of desserts, and some plums.
"Oh wow, thank you!" Lucy Gray smiles, accepting it gratefully. "Hey, Jessup! Come eat." She calls out to the other tribute from her district, who you remember was assigned to Lysistrata Vickers.
He comes over, but doesn't acknowledge either of you as Lucy Gray holds out one of the dessert bars to him. "I'm not hungry."
"It won't do you any good to starve now. You need your energy." Lucy Gray insists, practically shoving it into his hand.
"I hope you like blueberry." You cut in. "It's a blueberry biscuit with pistachio filling. Made fresh this morning- I promise it's good."
He doesn't say anything, taking it and retreating to the rock he was previously sitting on to eat.
"Will you be sharing everything with him?" Coryo asks her quietly as he walks away.
"Why? So I can keep my energy up enough to strangle him? I don't think that will matter much in a few days."
"You can't trust anyone once the games start, so why trust them now?" You reply quietly, scanning over the other tributes, eyes landing on Arachne taunting her tribute. Of course she would- her arrogance never fails to impress you.
"Your friend over there seems just lovely." Lucy Gray says sarcastically, eyes following yours as you watch your classmate.
"Not our friend." You and Coryo respond at the same time.
"She's poison with perfect teeth." He continues and you nod.
"One thing I learned in twelve is that hunger is a weapon." Lucy Gray says. You're not sure what she means, but you nod anyway.
"Here, let's sit." You suggest, changing the subject as you crouch down to lay out a cloth on the ground to place the food on.
As you're laying it out carefully between the bars for Lucy Gray, you can feel Coryo's eyes burning into the backs of your hands. Lucy Gray notices this too, handing him a cookie from the pile.
"No, I couldn't." His default response. "You need it more than me."
"You were staring. Here, we'll share." She insists and he takes it gratefully, breaking off a piece and placing it in his mouth.
"Here..." You mumble, digging through your bag again and pulling out the glass container designated for his dinner. You place it in his lap, not giving him the chance to turn it down. "Packed it just for you."
He takes it off his lap, tensely getting up. "I'll be back in a moment." He tells you both, red uniform disappearing behind the small crowd.
"You can see it too?" Lucy Gray asks you, nibbling on half of a sandwich.
You nod slightly, eyes still trying to track him to see where he went, then landing on him talking to Sejanus who's desperately trying to get his tribute, Marcus, to eat some of the food he brought.
"He's quite sensitive about it." You explain. "I appreciate you being kind to him. No one else knows... I think. Regardless, you are very important to him."
She nods a little bit, watching you watch your friend. "Are you just buttering me up?" She jokes and you shake your head, returning your attention to the girl across from you.
"No, I mean it. It's more than the prize for us." You state. "Him." You quickly correct yourself. "I just want to help however I can, if you need anything else just ask, but I'll bring food every day. Or I'll send it with Coryo."
"Coryo, huh?"
"Well, yes. We've been friends for years."
"I see." Lucy Gray nods, both of you watching him make his way back over. You lift up his container of food and hand it to him before he even has the chance to sit down.
"What about you, Lucy Gray? Any friends back home? Family?" You ask, looking away from him as he sits. You want him to eat, but you know he would loathe you for watching, so you direct all your attention to her.
"I'm an orphan, just like Coryo here." She nods to him and his brows furrow at the nickname coming from someone new. "It's just me and the Covey."
"Covey?" You ask.
"Yeah, they're my family and we perform together. It's how we make our change."
"Well, you are a very talented singer. Jaws were on the floor in the Capitol during your performance." You smile. 
"I'm not one to go quietly, that's all."
"I'm not either." You agree. "I think we'll be fine friends."
Just at that moment, the three of you hear a scream that has you turning your heads as fast as lightning over to the source, catching the end of Arachne getting her throat slit by her tribute. You and Coriolanus are on your feet in seconds, running over to try and help her just as gunfire rings out, taking down her tribute for the crime of her murder.
You pull off your blazer, both you and Coryo using it to try and stop the bleeding, but you could tell it was no use. By the time you look up, the crowd of spectators was completely gone having rushed for the exits during the attack.
Just as you both realize it's no use, and that she's already dead, you're being pulled away by peacekeepers.
"Hey! Let me go right this second!" You shout, trying to pull away.
"You kids have to get out of here." One of them answers blankly.
"I have to get my stuff!" You complain, trying to wiggle out of their strong grip. "You want me to leave my knife over within reach too? Are you stupid?"
They stop, sighing as they let you go. "Thank you." You huff, readjusting your shirt before walking back over to where you were just sitting with Lucy Gray, quickly gathering your things but leaving food for her.
"Lucy Gray, are you alright?" You ask, seeing her lying on the ground a few feet away from the bars now, just getting up.
She just nods, the fear in her eyes starting to cease. 
"You're not shot?" You follow up with, looking over her at the same time she does.
"No, I'm fine. You go." She replies, standing up again and dusting off her dress.
"Thank god. Those idiots are awful shots!" You bite, looking back at the peacekeepers over your shoulder, Coriolanus now nowhere to be seen.
You stand up and pull your bag across your body, walking past them toward the exit as they attempt to guide you in the right direction. "Don't touch me!" You hiss, smacking their hands away.
"Coryo!" You call out, running to catch up with him in the academy hall the next morning. He slows down, glancing over his shoulder and stopping to wait for you.
"Y/N." He states, looking at you expectantly. 
"Shall we go see Lucy Gray today?" You ask, reaching up to tighten your ponytail that had come loose in your jog.
"No." He shakes his head, continuing to walk and you follow after him. 
"What? Why not? She needs us to bring her food, and we have to-"
"I'll discuss the games with her at the planned meeting this afternoon. You won't be going back to the zoo."
"Excuse me?" You ask, grabbing his arm to stop him in his tracks. "I know I'm like, your assistant, or whatever, but you will not tell me what I can and cannot do."
"It's too dangerous. They are dangerous." Coriolanus argues. "I won't have you ending up like Arachne."
He had been up all night writing his proposal for Dr. Gaul. It was the only thing that could get his mind off the death of his classmate, and off of you. What if it had been you? He should have known it was dangerous, it was his fault. It was his idea that the mentors get closer to the tributes and someone was killed. Arachne's blood was on his hands, and he was just relieved that it wasn't yours staining his uniform instead.
"No. No, she died because she was stupid." You whisper, looking around. "She taunted her tribute and handed her a knife, at that point it's natural selection. I am not her. I am smarter."
He stares down at you, scanning over your features as you beg him to let you continue to help. "You need me, Coriolanus. Admit that much to yourself."
"I don't need you," He spits back. "But I like you much better alive. You are the one person in this school I can stand, I won't lose you over something so reckless." He pulls his arm from your grasp and walks off.
You look around, seeing your classmates staring and you roll your eyes. "Take a picture or something." You say to no one in particular, prompting people to avert their eyes.
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dottores · 7 months
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HELIOTROPES: A SIDE STORY
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pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments
summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.
genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.
warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding, brief mention of alcoholism and implied child abuse (not to reader), totally unedited (didn't have time! sorry!) reminder that segment list is on the masterlist if needed!
notes: THE BDAY SIDE STORY IS HERE, sorry i couldn't get it out on time i've been so busy i literally did not have the time to format or do anything sobs but i hope u guys enjoy because i had so much fun writing it. i originally came up with the idea for milk's bday a few weeks ago hehe. i rlly love it because it gives more background into reader and some of my fav segments (minus theta </3 he didn't make it in this one. but perhaps i shall do a christmas side story and make him the star).
THREE TIMES THE SEGMENTS MET YOU WITHOUT REALIZING IT,  AND ONE TIME THEY DID.
I. THE KAPPA SEGMENT & THE EPSILON SEGMENT; READER, AGE 6
You were cold. Soft puffs of air left your lips, shaky and weak. You were curled up in a ball on the ground, and a part of you knew that you needed to move but you couldn’t bring yourself to, your limbs felt as if they were iced to the ground—maybe they were, you could barely even pry your eyes open to check. 
The storm had died down, brief and brutal as they usually were, but you had been unable to find shelter before it hit. The town had to be close, you could hear people leaving their homes to fix up their properties from destruction of the harsh winds. It was only a matter of time before someone spotted you curled up on the ground, you were wearing a bright purple cloak. Your mother would find you, she would come to your rescue, she’d bring you home and make some hot cocoa for you just like you guys used to do during the bad storms before your father left for Fontaine City. 
It felt like an eternity. It might’ve been an eternity, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was that everything was cold, and you felt sluggish and slow, and you were starting to struggle to breathe because the air felt like icicles scraping at your lungs. You were tired, you could feel yourself falling asleep but living on the northern border, you knew better—you had to make it somewhere warm before you fell asleep, otherwise you might not wake up. 
But you couldn’t move, you thought you should feel scared and you thought you should definitely be crying but you couldn’t even do that. And as the minutes passed, slow and agonizing, you began to question whether or not someone would find you in time. The more those doubts began to surface, the more appealing the relief of sleep became—at least if you slept, you wouldn’t have to wait out these freezing and harrowing minutes alone. You could dream of your mother and father, of Sylvie and Elliot, maybe you would even dream of your soulmate. You heard that some people who were favored by the gods had dreams of their soulmate well before they ever met. 
Your weak breaths began to even out as you gave into the lull, but just as you were on the verge of falling asleep, you heard it—the crunching of snow, fast and loud heading in your direction. You forced your eyes open now, whimpering as the ice and snow caked on your face ripped at your skin painfully, and through little slits, you watched a figure dashing toward you.
At first, you thought it was your mother, wishing you could cry in relief because of course she found you, she would always find you. She would always come to your rescue. She would wrap you up in her arms and cry at you for being such a fool, but you knew she would just be happy you were okay. 
But as the figure drew closer, you realized that it was far too small to be your mother—you thought maybe it was Sylvie or Elliot, rushing ahead to get to you and maybe your mother was right behind them, but again, you were proven wrong as an unfamiliar boy knelt at your side, red eyes wide and silvery-blue curls hanging in his eyes as he peered down at you. 
He pressed his hands against both of your cheeks, as if to warm you up, but you thought it might’ve made it worse, because with the small bit of warmth against your skin and the feeling of someone else’s touch after being alone so long in the blizzard, you found your eyes drooping shut again, being lulled to sleep far faster this time. 
At once, the boy ripped his hands away and you could hear him pulling off his own cloak. He wrapped it around you tightly tucking one of your arms inside the thick material but hesitated before stuffing your other arm in there too. You forced your eyes back open, watching as he stared at your hand in confusion, and you parted your lips to ask what he was doing but no noise left them besides a wheeze of cold air that had ice slicing down your windpipe and your body shuddering in pain. 
Noticing your reaction, he put your arm into the cloak. He stood up, and you wondered if he was going to try to lift you himself, or leave you, but then another voice reached your ears, loud and tired, calling a name that you couldn’t quite make out but it had the boy lifting his arms and waving them frantically. 
A few moments later, there was a new figure kneeling next to you, brows furrowed as he looked down at you. “How did you get out here all on your own in this weather?” he murmured more to himself than you, and careful to keep you wrapped up in the small one’s cloak, he took his own off and wrapped you in that one too, easily lifting you up into his arms.
He was a stranger, and you knew you shouldn’t feel so comfortable in his arms, but you couldn’t help the way you leaned into his chest, basking in the warmth and relief of having been found, even if it wasn’t by the person you wanted it to be. You started to doze off again but found yourself disrupted as he jostled you in his arms suddenly, eyes blearily reopening to give him a confused look. 
“No sleeping,” he warned, giving you a steady look before motioning for the boy to follow him as he brought you into the town.
He took you to the inn, bustling with people who had taken refuge from the sudden storm, and immediately the innkeeper recognized you, gasping as she hobbled over to the man and led him in the direction of the fireplace, shouting for people to go fetch your mother or stepfather. He placed you down on the ratty couch of the inn, keeping you nestled inside both cloaks before pushing it as close as possible to the fireplace. 
He stepped away and at once you felt cold again—not physically, but mentally. Empty in a way that you’d never experienced before. You wanted to tell him to come back but you still couldn’t speak, your throat hurt and your lips still felt numb. 
The boy lingered for a moment, standing in front of the couch and staring at you as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t—much like you.
“Come, Kappa,” the man who saved you said just as you finally began to drift off to sleep with the warmth of the fireplace next to you and the weight of their cloaks pressing down on you. “She will be fine. Delta is waiting, you know how he feels about wasting time.”
You could only watch them leave, confused as to the warmth you felt when you were wrapped up in his arms—you knew it was different than normal but didn’t know why—and Epsilon never noticed the thread tied neatly around your finger, which was hidden by his and Kappa’s cloak. Kappa, mute and anxious, was unable to force the words out of his mouth as Epsilon held his wrist and led him from the tavern away from you. 
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II. THE IOTA SEGMENT; READER, AGE 11
You shuffled through the streets, sniffling and wiping at your eyes with baggy sleeves. You were getting odd looks from all around, wondering why an eleven-year-old was wandering around the streets alone wearing clothes that were far too big for her body. You had stolen Wriothesley’s jacket and gloves to cover your nice dress and the rings adorning your fingers, you probably should have taken them off before leaving the palace—the last thing you needed was for your mother to yell at you for losing her grandmother’s pearl ring and the city was out of control with pickpockets the past few months. 
It had already started raining, much to your displeasure, you remembered the prophecy that spoke of the day Fontaine City would be drowned by the gods and not for the first time, you wished that the day would just come already. You were so tired of dealing with your stepfather, and you hated the way he looked at you, and you hated how now he was even turning people against you and your father. 
You were supposed to have joined your mother and siblings in visiting your uncle for dinner, but instead, your mother had made an off-handed comment about how you should go spend some time with your father and grandfather instead, and you knew it was because your stepfather must have said something to your uncle. You didn’t know what, you had never been close to your uncle but you’d thought that since he was still family, he wouldn’t care for the words of an outsider.
But you should have expected this, in Fontaine, nothing came above the word of a person’s soulmate, Celestia’s gift to humanity. Of course he would believe your stepfather, because your stepfather was his sister’s gift from the gods—he only ever wanted the best for her, and he had somehow convinced your uncle that you, her own daughter, were not the best for her. 
Another sob bubbled at your lips, you pressed the sleeves of Wriothesley’s jacket to your mouth to muffle it. You wondered if your mother thought you were stupid, that you wouldn’t know what she really meant, but of course you knew. You spent too much time just observing people to not know. You didn’t have any friends to talk to besides Wriothesley, and Wriothesley was always busy. All you could do was sit around and observe until you got bored. 
Maybe you should have just gone to your father or grandfather and tell them what happened, but you knew if you did that, they would be livid and it would escalate things even more, and you were the one that would deal with the backlash of that, not them. So instead you went to Wriothesley, and stole his jacket and gloves, and refused to tell him what happened before you fled from the room to leave the palace. 
Just as you were about to turn the corner, you slammed into a figure and hit the ground hard, crying even more when mud splattered all over your face and into your mouth. You tried to wipe the mud off of your face through choked sobs but now the gloves were covered in mud too from you trying to catch yourself, and you only smeared it even worse.
“Oh.” 
It was a young boy who you had slammed into you but you couldn’t make out his facial features through your blurred vision. You were caught off guard when he was suddenly pressing his cloak against your face, using it as a rag to try to wipe off the mud. It didn’t help much, all he did was smear it around more because his cloak was drenched, but it had at least cleared your vision. 
“... Better?” he said hesitantly, looking down at you.
You sniffled a bit, using the clean part of Wriothesley’s jacket to wipe at your eyes before you nodded, but you didn’t stand up from where you were sitting on the ground. You didn’t want to. The boy leaned in a bit closer, frowning, “Are you… crying?” 
“I am not,” you denied immediately, but your voice betrayed you, cracking and breath shuddering over another sob. The boy looked suspicious. “I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not!”
“You are.”
“Not!”
“Yes, you are!”
“I am not!”
You glared at him. 
He glared back. 
Then he sat down in the mud next to you, plopping down hard and splattering mud all over you again. 
“Are you crying because you fell because of me?” the boy asked.
“‘m not crying,” you muttered, but with far less vigor this time. When he only stared at you, red eyes wide and earnest as he waited for an actual response, you finally said: “My stepfather is mean to me.”
“Oh,” the boy said in response, and the two of you just sat there for a moment, ignoring the way people kept giving you strange looks. Then, he reached up and patted your head, getting mud in your hair and on your forehead. Your brows furrowed as you stared at him, trying to figure out what he was doing, but he looked just as confused as you. “The Doctor pats my head when I get sad sometimes. It makes me feel better. Do you feel better?”
He drew his hand back swiftly into his lap, as if the single touch had poisoned him, and then you noticed how he was sitting with a large space between the two of you, the hand that had touched your head trembling and his body stiff. You wondered if he was like Wriothesley, Wriothesley used to get scared whenever people touched him, even just a kiss on the cheek or a pat on the head, and he never initiated contact with anyone else—you were pretty sure it was because his grandfather drank a lot, and when he drank a lot, he hurt people but whenever you asked your father, he said it was none of your business. But your father didn’t like Wriothesley’s grandfather, and you supposed that said enough, your father liked pretty much everyone. And then, realizing he might be like Wriothesley, you felt sad because he still tried to make you feel better even though he was scared. 
“I feel better,” you said quietly.
He smiled, brightening up a bit, but just as he was about to say something, you heard your name being called, loud and panicked. Your eyes turned up to where Wriothesley’s father was rushing through the rain in your direction, a few of his men following close behind. 
At his side, Wriothesley was with him, looking guilty as he refused to meet your eyes.
“Traitor!” you cried at Wriothesley as his father gently hauled you out of the mud to your feet. “I don’t want to go back there!” 
“He was worried, little one,” Wriothesley’s father patted your head, voice quiet as he spoke. “We all were. The city has been dangerous lately, you cannot go running off on your own. Your father just about had a heart attack when Wriothesley came to us and told us that you took his jacket and left the palace grounds.”
Wriothesley’s father pulled off the muddy gloves and coat to drape his own cleaner one over your shoulders—if he had been a second faster, maybe Iota would have caught sight of the thread tied to your finger before he ran off to get back to Delta. 
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III. THE GAMMA SEGMENT; READER, AGE 16
You had made it your goal to attend every festival you possibly could across all of Teyvat. The music festivals of Fontaine were an easy tick to your list, but it had taken a lot of convincing to get your mother to agree to the Lantern Rite Festival of Liyue. With you, Sylvie and Elliot combined though, it was impossible for her to say no. 
It was all you’d been thinking about for days now, and as you walked over the bridge to enter Liyue Harbor, you thought the city might’ve been the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen, eyes drawing upon all of the decorations and stands—it was dark out already, but somehow the city was still completely lit up and alive. People were singing and dancing, chatting loudly and laughing.
It reminded you of Fontaine City before the curfews were set and you were confined to the palace. 
“Look at all of the lights,” Sylvie whispered excitedly, tugging at your arm as she pointed to the lanterns decorating each corner of every building. 
“They say that they release thousands of lanterns at the end of the festival into the air,” Elliot said, squinting as he dipped his head down to see the words of the book he was reading. “They send their soldiers traveling throughout Liyue to collect all of them after Lantern Rite ends.” 
“Do you think we’ll be able to release one?” Sylvie asked, bouncing in her feet as she turned to look at Elliot, who just shrugged. “Can we go explore? Please, mother.”
Your mother looked tired from all of the traveling, sharing a look with your stepfather before nodding. “We’re going to go check in at the inn we’re staying at. Be sure to meet back here before nightfall, we have reservations at the Xinyue Kiosk tonight.”
Delighted, you lit up, watching as your stepfather told Elliot and Sylvie to go buy themselves a kite from the Toy Shop before handing them each a pouch of mora. You should’ve known better, but still, you glanced at him after Elliot and Sylvie ran off in opposite directions. His eyes glazed right over you as he held your tired mother by the waist and led her off in the direction of the inn. 
Your smile faltered but you refused to let it ruin your mood—you were in Liyue Harbor during Lantern Rite. You weren’t going to let him make you sad, you had your own coins anyway that you got from tutoring the Beaumont kids. Instead, you rushed off across the bridge and down the street, in the direction of the main area of the city. 
There were people everywhere, all of the shops stayed open, your smile widened as you watched a bunch of kids Elliot and Sylvie’s age run around with kites in their hands, ignoring how the adults were chiding them for doing it while the streets were so busy. 
You peeked around at some of the market stands, tempted to try some of the food but you figured that you’d get yelled at if you filled yourself up before the reservation, knowing that your mother spent a lot of time and mora getting someone down to Liyue a few months ago to make sure you guys were put on the waitlist. 
Instead, you found yourself in front of a jewelry shop, looking through the glass windows at the gemstones perched up on pretty purple cushions. They were already sold out of Emeralds, Topazes and Agates, but they had a full stock of Turquoises, Jades, and Diamonds. Distantly, you wondered who the hell was going to buy Diamonds from the jeweler, knowing that the rest would at least be bought by people with a vision. 
Your eyes narrowed, and just as disappointment was about to hit you, you caught sight of what you were looking for:
Varunada Lazurite. 
Your gaze shot open in surprise—the gemstone was always sold out in the Land of Hydro with so many people who had hydro visions living within the city. You had managed to get your hands on three chunks the last time the shop near the palace restocked, even though you had to wait in a line for nearly twelve hours to make sure you were the first one there after the restock. You had thought you’d have to wait another month or two for a chance at obtaining the other three you needed. 
But right there were the three brilliant and shiny chunks of Lazurite you needed tucked in the corner of the glass box. Excited, you realized that you wouldn’t have to wait as long as you thought—once you got home, you’d be able to grab the three you already had and crush them down into dust with your father for the second-to-last vision ceremony, to give you the increased connection with your hydro energy that you needed to finally start learning your family’s passed down hydro art. 
Then, you would start the long process of trying to acquire the full gemstones, which were far more expensive and rarer than the chunks. 
“Unless you’re going to buy something, I suggest you move on. You’re holding up my customers,” the woman behind the stand said boredly.
“How much for the three chunks of Lazurite?” you asked, raising your chin. 
She only quirked her brow upward. “Forty geo sigils each.”
“Geo sigils?” you gasped, eyes wide and lips parted as your elation immediately disappeared. 
How were you supposed to get geo sigils? You weren’t a Liyue native, you had no way of knowing how to find them. You barely even had any Hydro sigils and you were from Fontaine. 
“You’re a foreigner?” the woman asked, squinting her eyes a bit as she looked you over. You nodded, and she sighed heavily. “Very well, seventy-five thousand mora. Each.”
You blanched, knowing in your heart that she was ripping you off. Forty geo sigils was worth closer to sixty-thousand than seventy-five thousand but you weren’t going to argue that when she was doing you a favor by taking the common currency for you already. 
Defeated, you asked: “Do you take bank checks?” 
The woman nodded, and you pulled out one of the Northland Bank check slips that your mother had given you a few months back—it was your stepfather’s, he was the only one that had a bank account with the Northland Bank, and you figured that he would be mad when he realized you’d spent over two-hundred thousand of his mora on your Lazurite chunks but you thought that he deserved it, and signed the check happily after making it out to Mingxing Jewelry. 
She handed you the bag with the Lazurite chunks and thanked you for the business. Smiling to yourself, you made your way down the street again, this time looking for Sylvie or Elliot.
You got no further than a few yards before someone slammed into you, sending you both sprawling out to the ground. 
All the air left your lungs as a heavy weight dropped onto your stomach, scrambling off of you almost immediately, panicked. Your eyes met a pair of red ones and a face flushed pink in embarrassment, burn scars decorated the upper half of his face and for a moment, you thought he was familiar from somewhere. He was around your age, you couldn’t help but notice.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “Sorry, I was just-I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m looking for someone and-”
“It’s-” You began to say ‘it’s fine’ but the words died on your tongue when you realized that the bag you were holding was significantly lighter. You shot an accusing look at him, thinking that he had pickpocketed you but as you did that, your eyes caught a glimmer from the corner of your eye. 
The Lazurite.
You rushed toward it, but not fast enough, only able to watch as a small child darted through the crowd to steal the shiny object.
“Hey!” you shouted angrily, glaring back furiously at the boy who had bumped into you, who looked even more humiliated now, pressing his knuckles against his mouth as if refraining the urge to gnaw at them. “Look at what you did!”
You didn’t even spare him another glance, ignoring his apologies and his offers to help you get it back as you gave chase to the child who had stolen your seventy-five thousand mora gem. 
You hadn’t noticed the warm feeling that had swept through you when he had crashed into you, nor had Gamma noticed the thin red thread wrapped around your finger in his panic.
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IV. THE ZETA SEGMENT; READER, AGE 19
The Windblume Festival.
You smiled as you stepped into Mondstadt City, the beams of the sun washing over you and a gentle breeze sweeping through the city. You had heard that Anemo Archon makes the days of the Festival the most beautiful that the city sees all year—you had doubted it, partially because the Hydro Archon thought it was the greatest entertainment to douse the city in rain and storms whenever the music festivals were taking place. It never deterred them, the musicians would always play on even through the rain and thunder, but you had never quite experienced a festival like this, even during Lantern Rite, you had been unlucky with dreary clouds draped over the harbor. 
You didn’t even know where to go first, you were so overwhelmed with all of the colors and all of the people and you thought you shouldn’t be, you should be used to crowds by now, but you’d spent so much time locked up in the palace after your father’s death that you were getting anxiety just being in the vicinity of so many people. 
Your father. Your throat felt tight just as the reminder of him. He was supposed to be at Windblume with you—he had promised to bring you last year knowing how excited you were to see all of the nations’ different festivals, but he’d died before he could. You hadn’t even been able to bring yourself to go without him, but you forced yourself to go this year, to enjoy it for the both of you. 
And you couldn’t enjoy it with such a cloud of gloom hanging over you, so you squared off your shoulders and pushed away all of the dark feelings, forcing the small smile back onto your face as you made your way into the city, although it wasn’t quite as bright as before. 
You sighed as you made your way up the steps to the city’s main square. There were kids dancing to the music of a bard and flower stands set up all around the fountain in the center of the square. You wanted to buy one to give to someone, as per the Windblume tradition, but you didn’t have anyone to give it to. Sylvie and Elliot were supposed to have joined you for the festival, but their stepfather forbade them at the last minute, forcing you to attend the festival alone.
You looked around, eyes falling upon where a pretty woman with brown hair and green eyes was leaning into a tall blonde woman, and next to them, where a shorter blonde man was being dragged to the center of the square by a little girl dressed in red, who was pointing excitedly to a stand somewhere behind you. 
“Are you waiting on someone?”
You jumped at the unfamiliar voice, turning to the side only for your eyes to fall upon a handsome man with dark skin and blue hair. His lip ticked up a bit as you studied him, and a bit embarrassed, he added: “Sorry. I was just wondering, you’re not from Mondstadt, are you?”
“Is it that obvious?” you asked dryly, glancing down at yourself. You wondered if it was the way you were dressed or if it was the way you looked like a lost duckling trying to figure out where to go. Disappointed, you thought you had made sure to wear an outfit that leaned more toward Mondstadt’s typical fashion than Fontaine’s but either way, it was a bit embarrassing. 
“No,” the man said immediately. “I was just throwing it out there for a conversation starter, I’ve found it works wonders.”
“Does it?” you asked curiously, peering around the pavilion as more people began to wander around.
He hummed in agreement. “Usually, they start asking me why I think that because they are from Mondstadt,” you laughed a bit and the corner of his lip pulled up, “and if they aren’t, I explain to them why I asked, and then they laugh, kind of like how you are now.”
“You’ve got it all figured it out, don’t you?” you asked, letting the tease slip into your tone as you relaxed against the stone wall behind you, glancing up at him.
“Not at all,” he corrected. You gave him a questioning look and his grin widened a bit as he leaned in, as if to whisper to you in conspiracy. “I just made all of that up.”
You laughed louder this time, more in surprise than humor, but he seemed to take it as a positive regardless, straightening back up and looking down on you. “I’m Kaeya,” he greeted. “Cavalry Captain of the Knight’s of Favonius.”
“I’m…” you began, but found yourself trailing off as you caught sight of a figure ducking into an alleyway. All you caught was a head of silvery-blue hair, but somehow you could feel yourself drawn in that direction as if something was pulling you and were a puppet on a string that could only follow along. “Excuse me for a second.”
You didn’t hear his response and though you felt a bit bad about leaving him hanging like that, you were more focused on trying to figure out whatever the pull to this person was. You took off in that direction, relief hitting you when you realized he was still lingering at the mouth of the alley, fiddling with something in his hands.
“Excuse me,” you called, trying to get his attention. He didn’t respond, he didn’t even look up, so you repeated yourself as you drew closer, reaching out to touch his arm but he jerked away, dropping whatever was in his hands and your eyes widened as it hit the ground hard, shattering. 
You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him, you could feel the cold and harsh gaze set on you as he waited for you to say whatever you wanted to say, but now you were at a loss for words because you didn’t even know why you came after him and you didn’t know what you wanted. 
“Did you need something?” Clipped and icy, the thin smile on his lips did not meet the red of his eyes, and any words that you might’ve been trying to say to excuse your actions died on your tongue. 
“I’m sorry,” you finally said, grateful that your voice remained steady even under his severe look. “You looked familiar. I thought we might’ve met before.”
He looked ridiculously familiar, in fact. You swore that you’d seen him before—the red eyes, silvery-blue hair and the scarred upper half of his face—it was all so familiar but you just couldn’t place from where. He looked taken aback a bit by your words, examining you for just a second before his lips twisted down again. 
“We have not,” he said, voice frigid as he knelt down to pick up the broken pieces of the object that he had been holding. It was a dismissal if you’d ever heard one, but instead of leaving, you knelt down next to him.
“Here, let me help-” you tried to say, but at once, he grabbed your forearm, fingers pressing deep into your skin to stop you.
At once, a jolt shot through you and he seemed to feel it too, if the way he drew back as if he had slapped had anything to say about it. He stared at your hand as if he had just seen a ghost, lips parted in shock and eyes wide, and just as you were about to ask if he was okay, he spluttered something out about being late for something and then he was moving, disappearing around the corner before you even knew what was happening. 
You sat there for a moment, stunned, and completely oblivious as to what he had seen.
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Zeta’s heart was racing and his head was pounding, red eyes wide with disbelief as he leaned against a wall around the corner, far away from you. A part of him was embarrassed at the way he had run, he couldn’t even remember what excuse he had given—something along the lines of having to go because something important came up, a load of bullshit of course, but he thought it was better than what would have happened if he stayed there any longer after seeing that thread. 
The thread.
Zeta didn’t know what to think. He had known of your existence—he knew because the moment the Iota segment found out years ago, the boy went running to every segment to tell them how a thread showed up on the Doctor’s finger, how they finally had their soulmate. He never expected to meet you though, much less before any of the other segments, and even then, a part of him had been convinced by Lambda’s persistence that this was all just a ploy for them to drop their guards, a fake, a means to destroy them in a way they had yet to be destroyed. 
But you were there. You were right there. Zeta couldn’t help the way he peeked back around the corner, eyes immediately drawn to where he had left you in the middle of the alley. You looked upset, expression downcast as you glanced around, still trying to find him. A part of Zeta wanted to walk back over to you—talk to you, study you, try to figure out just who you were and why you were tied to them, there had to be something unique about you that made you their soulmate, that made them have to wait five hundred years just to meet you. 
But he knew better. 
The Doctor would already be suspicious. 
It wasn’t unlike Zeta to have bursts of emotion when dealing with too many people—he got overwhelmed quickly after spending years having to keep up a friendly mask at the Akademiya. No matter how hard he tried to keep himself calm and learn new methods for not exhausting his thin tolerance of social situations, he never seemed to be able to do anything to fix it, an unfortunate side-effect of having been created with this mindset, because he would always revert back to the one in which he was originally made in.
But it was not the sudden outburst that was the issue. It was that shock that spread through him when your hand brushed his arm. The warm feeling. The familiarity with someone who should not be familiar. The Doctor would have noticed it, and he would have questions.
Zeta sighed heavily, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose as he leaned his head back against the wall. He cast one last long look backward, eyes lingering on you, memorizing your face and your body, the outfit you wore and the gems that donned your fingers and neck. 
With a tight feeling in his throat, he pushed himself off the wall and head in the opposite direction of where you were standing, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the Doctor reached out demanding to know what had happened and Zeta needed to figure out what he was going to say before that happened, wanting to keep this little encounter a secret to himself because he knew that Lambda would inevitably find out through the Doctor and then he would try to hunt you down. 
One last look, he told himself, again. He glanced back as he reached another corner, the alley where he left you only barely visible from the distance, but you were already gone.  
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wutheringcaterpillar · 3 months
Text
To Have and To Hold
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Requested by @furrypaintermiracle
warnings: noncon, dark!cillian, financial/emotional abuse, grooming kind of (reader is inexperienced and 20, Cillian is 47), gaslighting, forced pregnancy, somewhat slow build, Cillian is single with no kids
Summary: Cillian catches the eye of a woman that seems to be much younger than him and he is determined to build the perfect love story even if that means isolating you from your family and friends and convincing you he is the perfect man.
Author’s note: I’d like to reiterate everyone is of age, there is no pedophilia and I don’t condone writing it. Nor is this story in association with Cillian’s real life.
To Have and To Hold 
It was a cold wintery night in the small town you lived in, people were roaming the streets holding their hot chocolates and coffees, some wrapped around with their lovers, some with friends. It seemed like the only time family could potentially come together. 
“Y/N look!” You friend Makayla pointed up at the shooting star in the sky.
“Make a wish!” You closed your eyes gently, yet playfully as you inhaled and exhaled as if that would make the wish become any more true.
You excused yourself to the near coffee booth that caught your eye and senses, not being able to resist the sweet smell of caramel any longer.
Snow began to fall delicately from the soft, hazy clouds on top of your hat, intertwining with strands of your hair. 
Once you exchanged the money, the kind lady whom was very soft spoken handed you your coffee, insisting that she’d hope you’d have a great night. 
You thanked her kindly before turning and bumping into a stranger, knocking some napkins out of his hand.
“Oh, so sorry! Always seem to be a cluts around this time of year, I like to blame it on the ice.” You laughed nervously, sliding a strand of hair behind your ear while your cheeks heated red from embarrassment.
“Oh don’t be concerned, we all have accidents here and there, nothing to keep you awake at night I hope.” The man spoke rather calmly, his voice deep with a hint of sincerity.
His hand reached out, insisting on helping you up from your state.
“Oh, thank you.” You smiled softly, but once you looked up to see this mysterious man, his baby blue eyes drew you in, and the way his lips looked plush, and inviting as they formed a warm smile. 
It was very apparent this man was older than you by the small yet visible age lines, and the way he spoke in a decent, charming manner.
He too couldn’t help but notice your kindness and how soft your voice sounded, almost angelic to his ears.
You hummed awkwardly, breaking your eye contact and looking around, spotting your friends sitting at a bench staring and giggling at the scene unfolding before them.
“I’m Cillian.” His voice had you spinning back around to him instantly. His hand was held out in a welcoming matter, to which you obliged.
“Y/N, my name’s Y/N.” 
“Well Y/N, what are you doing saturday night? If you don’t mind me asking that is?” You couldn’t stop yourself from blushing, all words seeming to run from your mind at the realization, the possibility this older, yet attractive man could be asking you on a date.
“Ugh, n-nothing. Why do you ask?” 
“I’d like to take you on a date, well multiple dates. Can’t have a beautiful girl like you get lost in the water now can I?” It didn’t take you long to respond with an answer.
“Yes! I mean um- sure.” You were so bad at this, not having much experience. He handed you his phone and you typed your number in creating a new contact. You couldn’t help but notice the amount of contacts with womens names but you brushed it aside. He was older so clearly he knew more people than you.
“5 o’clock work? At the chaplin park?” You nodded with a contained excitement.
“I will see you then, after all your friends can’t stop staring at us. I have an idea.” Before you could ask what, his arm slid behind your shoulders respectfully, as he walked you back to your friends across the street.
The faces they were making were priceless, mouths open in astonishment.
“Hello, sorry for keeping Y/N from you. I couldn’t help but take an interest in your fascinating friend and I couldn’t have her crossing the street alone, you never know what type of men are out on the streets. Enjoy the rest of your night, I will see you saturday.” He placed a gentle kiss on the top of your hand that almost had your eyes fluttering to the back of your head.
His lips felt warm, and soft when they touched you skin just how you imagined.
Butterflies formed in your stomach as the man abid you a do, fading in the distance of the crowd of people.
You were in disbelief that such a handsome, well dressed man asked you out on a date, the very first. 
You and your friends stayed chatting the rest of the night wanting the full details and you attempted to explain in a collected way but you had your moments of excitement.
~
When saturday rolled around, your stomach felt like it was in knots, your nerves building more and more until you pulled into the park.
You were about to text him what kind of car he was driving and to your surprise you glanced up and noticed him stepping out of a car that was clearly brand new, as it shined with luxurious features.
Your jaw wanted to drop but instead you checked yourself once more in the mirror, still not being able to see what he could possibly want with a lower class woman like yourself.
The wind blew threw his hair as he walked toward your car, his hair flowing ever so slightly from the small breeze, the sun shining straight into his crystal blue eyes, it was like a scene out of a movie.
Internally you felt like you were going to combust inside when he reached your door opening it for you.
“Hi, how’ve you been?” He asked as if you hadn’t been texting constantly leading up to this very moment.
He extended his hand like the first day he met you, assisting you out of your old piece of junk car, to which he seemed not to care or notice.
“I’ve been good, dealing with school and bills, y’know?” You laughed anxiously, and concern seemed to etch it’s way through his face slightly. Not from how you were acting but the possibility of your financial woes being terrible. It wasn’t safe.
“So how old are you? I know you must be over eighteen if you’re in college.” You nodded as the two of you began walking toward a trail.
“Oh I’ve just turned twenty about a month ago, you?” Cillian couldn’t stop himself from whole heartedly laughing, holding his stomach.
“My dear I’m forty-seven, nonetheless that doesn’t change my interest in you. Tell me about yourself, please.” 
“Well I’ve just begun college, I’m very close with my family and I know you may not believe it but I’ve never had a boyfriend, yet alone been asked out.” Cillian stopped you mid stride, acting like he was in disbelief when in reality he could tell from the awkwardness, and the way you seemed embarrassed to be yourself, that’s where he had an advantage. He wasn’t attracted to you solely based off looks, it was your mannerisms the way you still seemed so new to adulthood he’d be your first relationship and he was getting to that age where he was looking to settle down.
“If I may, those bloats who didn’t ask you on a date are quite idiotic but I suppose that’s a grand thing or else I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to meet such a smart, young woman.” He knew how to charm, smirking to himself when he watched your rosy cheeks blush.
The two of you walked, chatting about where you were from, your family life, difference in childhoods and upbringing, hobbies. All of the starter conversations to get to know somebody. 
Much to your surprise he lived in Dublin and he was in the states because of work which you hadn’t asked about quite yet, but it obviously paid him well.
The thought that he could be gone tomorrow though worried you, were you already going to experience heartbreak so soon? Why did he ask you on a date, and hint at multiple dates.
You stopped near a fenced off area right above a cliff, the two of you alone together taking in the scenery, listening to the humming of birds and the wind. 
Beyond the cliff displayed a different part of the forest, a pond in the center of it fulfilled with ducks swimming peacefully whilst deer lay contently a few meters away from the pond. The clear blue sky and the sun shining down on the animals painted a beautiful picture that took your breath away, and brought you both a sense of peace as you enjoyed a moment of silence
His hand brushed against your arm, causing you to turn to him in your giddy state.
His arms opened unexpectedly and awaited for the motion to be corespondent.
When you had leaned into his touch he was warm, smelling of ivory and teakwood as he held you innocently from behind, warming your body with that butterfly feeling, the knots slowly dissipating.
His arms curled around your stomach contently and for some reason it almost felt right.
After the few moments of silence you broke away, ready to walk again.
“Well what about you? What do you do for a living?” You began walking once more through the dirt trail inbetween the trees.
He inhaled deeply feeling refreshed that a woman he was interested in knew nothing of his existence.
“I know you may not believe it and I urge you not to run to the internet and research but I’m an actor. I make decent money and I enjoy my job very much just not the public part.” Your eyebrows furrowed together in disbelief but your parents always raised you not to judge a book by it’s cover, not to make assumptions and really get to know a person first.
“Do you have to travel a lot?” 
“I do but I’ve really been wanting to settle down and here you are. You really caught my eye Y/N. The first glance I was at a loss for words and had to grow the strength in me to ask you on a date. I hope my career doesn’t steer you away, I may travel but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t bring you. Of course there would be circumstances where I can’t.” Sure, you completely understood that. A part of you couldn’t help but want to be indulged in his world, and have a partner to travel the world with.
“Well, I have always wanted to see the world, and I really want to say I wouldn’t rush to the internet. That wouldn’t be me getting to know you it would be others telling me what they think about a person they’ve never met.” He nodded gracefully, his dimples appearing softly on his delicate cheeks as a small smile crept onto his face.
The rest of the walk the minutes turned into hours where you both discussed insecurities, fears, hopes and dreams and the conversation seemed to lead itself which was a good sign to you that made you feel hopeful that maybe this would go somewhere as did he.
~
The next few months you had found yourself living with Cillian in his house in Dublin that probably was worth more than your college tuition combined with everything you’ve ever owned in life.
Maybe you should’ve put more thought into it before making such a drastic life decision but any reason you came up with not to move out of the country Cillian seemed to have a better response and solution to your worries, giving you no reason to decline.
The first month he bought you a car, and insisted on paying for your insurance and college tuition. He was patient, driving you around town and the outstanding areas to help you get to know the area. As much as you tried to decline his financial help he wouldn’t take no for an answer. You were beyond grateful and he held up to his word that he would take you traveling when he could.
The biggest problem you seemed to face together so far was your parents, who did not approve of this relationship whatsoever.
Your mom was overly concerned you were falling for Cillian too quickly, and made comments here and there about how a man in his line of work wanted one thing and that was a playmate for when they were bored.
Your father hadn’t liked him for some of the same reasons and he pointed out your finances worried him. Allowing Cillian to take over your bills, and transfer them to his name was beyond stupid he thought because what if you guys got into a disagreement? What if he decided to stop paying them. He also did not want his celebrity status to change your thoughts or the way you acted, he didn’t want you to feel like you had to pretend to be somebody you weren’t.
The only one thing that your parents seemed to agree with was when they met Cillian he was very polite, didn’t disclose any form of pda. He even shook your father’s hand, and went on calling them both maam and sir and offered to pay the bill for dinner but when they declined he didn’t push any further as he didn’t want to offend them.
It was a small stepping stone that you’d cross and bare through together.
His parents were actually quite lovely, and adored you and your American accent.
They wanted to know all about you, and kept asking Cillian where he had been hiding you. To them age was just a number and love was love, you couldn’t put a price on that.
The days he was away filming he would facetime you at the end of the day, answering any questions or concerns you might have and offer any help he could to ensure your safety, happiness, and peace.
He even helped you in school where he could, he was quite intelligent.
He truly was the man of your dreams and would surprise you when he’s away with lavish gifts and respected your wishes to wait until marriage to have sex.
He never brought it up after that, and as far as your worries about the women in his contacts he had introduced you to each and every one as they were all either family members or directors and producers, some co-stars that he worked with and nothing seemed inappropriate or bothered you.
It was almost like you were living in a fairytale.
~
It had only been three months into the relationship when Cillian decided to take the next step and now here he was at dinner with you and your family once more, awaiting for the right moment to talk to your parents privately.
When he was filming in Birmingham, he had took the time to look for a ring, a twenty four karat ring at that, it was silver and had an almost blush pink diamond heart in the center of it. How much he’d spent he’d keep to himself.
When you excused yourself to the restroom Cillian took this as the opportunity to do so.
“I um- I have a topic of conversation I’ve been wanting to discuss with the both of you and I think now would be a great time.” Your mother cut into her steak, prodding him to go on while your dad was pouring himself a glass of wine and raised his eyebrows.
“I want to ask Y/N to marry me, with your blessing of course.” Your mother nearly choked on her food and your father set the bottle down rather aggressively before answering almost instantly.
“No. You absolutely do not have our blessing.” Cillian’s tongue roamed to the side of his cheek as he looked between the both of them slightly irritated but hiding it.
“I don’t understand you won’t allow me to take your daughter’s hand in marriage. Why is that? If you don’t mind me asking?” Cillian was at a crossroads, his thumb dragging across his bottom lip in confusion of where he could have possibly went wrong that your parents would not like him.
“You’re nearly thirty years older than my daughter. This is just a phase, she has a career, a whole life to live and you think I’m going to allow her to throw it away for some actor who moved her across the world?” Ah, so that’s what this was, it had nothing to do with how well he treated you, but it had to do with the components that shouldn’t matter. 
“Sir, with all do respect. I’m paying for her college tuition now. Am I not?” Your father went silent, taking a sip from his glass of wine while your mother was holding her tongue.
“I have a roof over her head, I bought her a reliable, safe car and I love her very much. She’s an adult she could have said no to moving in with me. Our age and my career should have nothing to do with the fact that I’m in love with your daughter and she’s in love with me much to your dismay.” Your father went to speak but stopped when they heard the bathroom door open.
When you approached the table it was clear something was said, and you assumed it to be your dad. “Is everything alright?” You took your seat next to Cillian once more and he settled his hand on top of yours in front of your parents tracing your fingers delicately.
“Everything’s great love, your father was just saying how proud of you he is. You know going to school, focusing on your career, finding a man who cares and supports you.”
The night went on swimmingly to your knowledge and you finally felt as if there was some peace between your relationship and family. All you’d ever wanted was for your parents to be proud of you and see you for your accomplishments. Though there may had been a rough patch once Cillian came into the picture it seemed like the pieces were finally starting to come together as a whole.
~
Becoming more impatient by the minute with your parents, as much as he wanted their approval he’d realized he wasn’t going to obtain it anytime in the near future. So he took matters into his own hands.
“You all packed love?” You nodded excitedly, rushing over to him, pulling him into a death grip of a hug, trying your best not to break him.
“I can’t believe we’re going to Bali, I’ve been wanting to go my whole life! And now I can go with a person I love very much. I just feel bad I couldn’t really pitch in with the funds.” You mumbled against his chest those last few words.
Cillian rolled his eyes, gently tearing you off of him forcing you to lock eyes with him.
“Darling, I love you. I want you to focus on your school so you can get the degree in the field you love. I have more than enough money for the both of us so please, let me spoil my princess as I adore to.” You leaned up kissing him softly on the lips in a deep passionate kiss, but pulled away as your standards for yourself still remained, not until marriage.
“Now let’s go before we miss our private flight.” You followed his lead and he insisted on carrying your suitcases.
The flight was rather long and Cillian couldn’t help but notice the position you had fallen asleep in on the love seat. 
Your legs were spread open, breasts flowing freely almost slipping from your tanktop. He didn’t know how much longer he’d last not having sex.
He need to have sex, he needed to be inside you. He groaned and readjusted himself when you shifted in your sleep, worried that you’d wake up and see his hardened member forming a wet spot on his pants.
The perks of being a celebrity was he could get anyone he wanted, and though he liked the hard to get act, it was getting old for him.
The sun was setting when you finally arrived, Cillian waking you up sweetly with a kiss to your temple.
After he gave you a moment to wake up he guided you to your destination.
Unlocking the door, if eyes could drool yours would be at this very moment.
There was a skylight in the ceiling, a coy pond directly in the center of your private living space, the water reflecting off the moonlight that was making it’s way in.
The sounds of nature was all you could hear, there was no television or phones, just you and Cillian in a complete, fairytale like oasis. 
The house he had rented was say directly at the top of a hill, with a view of the ocean, the sounds of the waves suddenly making you feel tired once more.
“Oh my gosh, this is lovely! This is beautiful Cilly!” As long as you were happy that was all that matters, that was all he needed for his proposal to work in his favor.
~
The following morning you had awoke to smell of bacon and eggs, the fresh summer breeze blowing in gently through the opened doorway.
When you walked toward the smell that lead you to the kitchen, was dressed with an almost too elegant tablecloth. All of your favorite fruits and foods on display while he was finishing the rest of breakfast. “Good morning sweetheart, I hope the mimosas are to your liking.” You tiptoed toward him, wrapping your arms around his torso from behind, placing a sweet chaste kiss on his warm neck.
“How did I get so lucky?”
“Come.” He walked you out toward the balcony and you found yourself unable to stop smiling, one thing Cillian was very good at was surprises, he had never gotten you something you hadn’t loved or talked about.
“Don’t open them yet.” He released you, watching your shielded eyes carefully, making sure you don’t sneak a peak.
Checking his attire, he patted down his shirt before getting down on one knee, retrieving the expensive ring from within his pocket.
He took a deep breath, putting on his charm as he decided in his head on what act would be best to get you to say yes, though he really believed there was no chance of you turning him down in the little amount of time it took for him to have you wrapped around his finger.
“Open your eyes love.” 
You gasped in surprise, your hand coming up to cover your lips in disbelief as your eyes glistened in the sunshine, purely lovestruck.
“Y/N L/N, would you do me the honour of taking my last name and becoming my beautiful, beloved wife?” Tears of happiness crept through your eyes, spilling down your cheeks as you stared into his ocean eyes, glancing back down at the silver, magnanimous diamond ring.
“Yes! Yes a million times yes!” He smiled widely as his arm moved, his fingers curling around the ring carefully taking the expensive ring out of it’s snug place in the box before placing it delicately onto your finger.
His hands lay gently on your hips as he stood up, caressing your tear stained cheeks
~
Your parents never responded to the wedding invitation and Cillian could tell it was breaking your heart. Scooping you up from where you sat on the sofa, he pulled you into his loving arms, caressing your back gently as you cried into his shoulder.
“Darling, they’ll come around. They will.” In his mind, he didn’t understand how your parents could be so cruel, and block your number, not even willing to support you on one of the biggest moments in your life, the number one thing most women looked forward to and he was going to use that to his advantage.
Your tears began to form a small puddle in the crook of his neck, dampening the shirt he was wearing but he didn’t mind.
“Hey.” He spoke with sincerity, pushing you softly away from him so you were still sitting on his lap, but facing him.
“Oh, my love.” His eyebrows furrowed together with a pained expression as his thumb glided over you teary cheeks once he saw your face.
“Don’t let them ruin this okay? They will realize how much they’re hurting you, we just have to be patient, alright?” You nodded, attempting to stop from crying.
He watched you with endearing eyes, hands still placed on your cheeks.
Your chest was beginning to fall back to a normal pace as his touch and loving words were beginning to calm you down immensely.
“And if they don’t come around, well fuck them. If they don’t want you to be happy and can’t put our differences aside, maybe it’d be better off to not have them in your life sweetheart. You’ll always have my parents who love you very much.” Maybe he was right, maybe you did have terrible parents. How could a father not want to walk his daughter down the aisle on the most important day of her life and how could your mother not be excited for you, surely she was excited and had help and support when she married your father.
Regardless you knew Cillian’s parents would always be there and maybe this was for the best.
~
Within the following weeks Cillian hired an assistant to help you plan out the wedding that was set for June so everything would be to your standards.
He needed you to have the perfect day, for everything to be exactly how you visioned.
Walking in the door he noticed you were seated comfortably at the kitchen island, three boards layed out in front of you with different color schemes and a notebook.
“I’m home love.” He approached you from behind, smelling of mint and cashmere as he settled a kiss on top of your head.
“How is the wedding planning going?” Cillian himself couldn’t deny your creativity, all three boards looked amazing and it wasn’t difficult to see the amount of time you spent on them.
“Well, everything is about settled, I can’t believe how fast we planned all of this, it almost seemed to easy but maybe it’s just because I know what I want and love, just like how I feel for you.” He hummed adoringly against your head.
“Well if you’re struggling I like the third one, seems more subtle.” Even though you were leaning more toward the second you followed his word. Aside from the fact he was older he probably knew more about planning and such big events more than you did.
~
When June rolled around, you stared in the mirror, waiting for your cue to walk down the aisle.
Nerves were getting the best of you and your emotions seemed to be scattered. It was hard to imagine you were about to marry the love of your life and no one you knew other than Cillian’s family and friends were attending.
Yes, they loved you deeply but a part of you still had wished your family at least would have set their differences aside to be here for you on your big day.
Instead they’d be sitting at home probably renovating your room, or out with friends anything to take their mind off of their disappointment of a daughter.
“Y/N, they’re ready.” 
When you walked out, the sight of Cillian stood at the altar nearly took your breath away as he stood, watching you in awe but kept his emotions in tact.
His hands stayed folded in front of him while a soft smile spread across his lips.
Your bridesmaids ended up being a few of his cousins who also didn’t know you very well but they had been very supportive and you couldn’t have been more grateful.
~
Every morning since you stared at your ring in awe but it seemed like Cillian had become distant. It had now been a month since you were married and anytime you brought it up to him it was dismissed that you were overthinking.
What had you done wrong? Why wasn’t he as loving anymore? Was it something you said? Were you too immature? 
It was all to much and was tiring you out having this constant anxiety around him, thinking you’d done something terrible or he was going to ask for a divorce.
He went as far too sleep in the spare room now, every once in awhile asking for sex but you still hadn’t felt comfortable just yet and that annoyed Cillian very much. How was he supposed to get off, expect to be loyal to you when you won’t make love with him. That was his problem he wasn’t patient anymore and always seems to be in a bad mood, especially when you wore revealing clothing on vacation or just around the house.
He still stayed paying all of your bills but he insisted that college wasn’t necessary anymore, why did you need it when you had him? Why did you need a social life when you had him?
The topic wasn’t up for debate in your eyes so he let it go.
Awaking from your nap, you didn’t hear the television anymore, had he left you alone there?
Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you reached to the bedside table for your phone to call him but your hand grasped nothing but air. 
Stepping down from the bed, your feet patted on the floor, your fuzzy socks keeping them warm from the hardwood floor.
Stumbling into the living room you spotted Cillian seated on the sofa, reading a book while your phone lay unlocked and open besides him.
“Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know you tell me.” When he spoke his tone was low to the point that you could tell something was wrong, he was upset with you.
“Cillian, what’s wrong?” As you sat down on the comforting cushion, reaching for your phone he pulled it away from you, holding it away almost as if it were a toy.
“Who’s Christian, and why do you have plans with him tonight? You didn’t even bother to ask me.” Ask him? Why would you need to have his approval to make plans with your friends. You could see why he’d be bothered he’s a male friend of yours that he hadn’t met yet, closer to your age, and you couldn’t introduce him tonight since he had a press conference to attend.
“He’s in my forensics class, he’s really kind and I was planning on introducing you to him and-“
“When? Because you’ve been chatting for weeks, never heard you bring up this man’s name once.” He stood up from the couch, tossing his book on the table as he strode annoyed to the kitchen.
You were at a loss for words but still found yourself following him like a lost puppy, worried for your marriage.
“Cillian I-“
“You’re not going. I hope you can realize how inappropriate this is. Did you even think about me and the way I would feel. I’m a high profiled person Y/N, far more older than you and my career loves to prod at our marriage. You being out with him alone in public, while I’m at a conference, what do you think that’s going to do to my reputation. Or did your mindless twenty year old brain not think that far.” You crossed your arms defeatedly. Maybe he had a point, you didn’t stop to think about the career or the press, you’d forgotten that you were married to a celebrity, one that does not like his personal life being involved with the public.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, I guess I’m still learning how to adjust to publicity, and just being married in general. You know you are my first relationship Cillian.” His mood changed, his shoulders unstiffening as he slid your phone back to you over the countertop.
“I think it’d be best to delete your social media.” You nodded in agreement but your brain was telling you not to abide by his rules or feelings. You were still young but maybe he had a point that this was just some young, silly phase that you needed to grow out of. 
If you were old enough for marriage you surely didn’t need social media, but were you ready to delete everything you knew?
Glancing up at him, he watched you intently, his arms crossed while he leaned back against the refrigerator.
You tapped on your phone deleting the applications,  showing Cillian the screen once you were done.
“Satisfied?” He smiled gracefully, his demeanor now seemed calm as he came up behind you, wrapping his arms almost too tightly around your waist.
“I am, now how about we go to the wardrobe and see what gown we can find for you tonight eh? Does that sound good?” He snuggled his nose into the crook of your neck, one of your many tickle spots causing you to giggle and nuzzle back against him, completely ignoring what had just happened.
~
Taking a seat at your table as the questions went by for the new season of Peaky Blinders, your phone vibrated on the table. While Tom was answering a question Cillian’s eyes glanced down at the notification, his jaw tightening when he saw it was Christian once more, asking for an answer on a time.
Noticing his reaction anxiety filled your chest and you tried your best to act like nothing was happening just as he was.
Folding his hands underneath his chin, he settled his attention back on the people, smiling respectfully as if he saw nothing like the flick of a switch.
The tension was clear that there would be an argument when you arrived home. 
The rest of the night Cillian charmed his way through, acting calm and collected, talking with such charisma you were starting to wander in your mind of what the argument was even about.
There were a few questions here and there about your marriage to which Cillian would simply respond with, “She’s always been my number one supporter and we look forward to our future together. That’s all I have to say.” He politely disregarded the age difference questions, or any questions that involved anything other than the show at hand.
He kept his pda to a minimum not going any further than his arms behind your shoulder or settled innocently on your side.
He really was a private man and would go to any extent to keep it that way.
~
The ride home his demeanor had changed, he didn’t talk to you once, nor did he even take one singular glance your way. Even when you attempted conversation you got nothing in return. You felt at a disadvantage, like you were messing up your marriage.
Maybe you weren’t mature enough just yet, maybe you did jump in too fast, you still hadn’t given in to your word about sex yet and it had been a month you’ve been officially married. What if he found it elsewhere? What if he thinks you’re finding it elsewhere, possibly with Christian. Anxiety fulfilled you entirely, the fear of losing Cillian worried you, how were you supposed to live without him in your life? How would you pay your bills when you hadn’t been working? Was he going to ask for a divorce?
Putting the car in park, he stepped out of the car, walking rather hurriedly to your side, opening the door and grasping your forearm forcing you out and inside the house. He was beginning to frighten you as he had never handled you with such violence before.
Once the door closed behind you couldn’t stop the tears from brimming at your eyelids.
“Why is he still texting you? Hm? I thought we were past this?” You sucked up your tears and tried your best to hold them back as you tossed your purse onto the sofa.
“Cillian I told you he’s just a friend! I want you to meet him please! I haven’t talked to my friends from home since we began dating and he’s the only friend I have made out here! I-“ He silenced you by putting his hand, before approaching you slowly, determination and anger filling his eyes. 
“No, no. Listen to me, when guys have friends that are girls, they want them to believe that they’d never fuck them when in reality they’re only friends with you so they can be the first one to swoop you up and spread your legs to make you fell better when a relationship falls a part. This isn’t a relationship this is a marriage and I’ll be damned if this little fucker thinks that he has a chance with you when you won’t even give in to me when I’ve given you absolutely everything!” His words struck a nerve and you hated that when you were mad or angry you’d begin to cry.
You turned your back on him, heading toward the bedroom to where he followed you instantly.
“May I need not remind you it is my name on that car, it is my bank account connected to your college funding, you are on my health insurance and you wouldn’t be able to afford any of it without me. Block his number and get rid of him, it’s the least you can do when I have done so much more for you!” When you didn’t budge you stared at him blankly, not recognizing who he was anymore.
This wasn’t the Cillian you had fallen in love with, this wasn’t the kind, respectable man who claimed to love you.
His eyebrows raised expectantly glancing down at the phone in your hand. When you didn’t do anything but stand there like a child who had just gotten yelled at and told no, he decided that enough was enough.
Walking forward, each step contained an enormous amount of fury as he snatched the phone from your hands. When you attempted to reach for it he grabbed your wrist, gripping the skin tightly to where you knew not to fight him.
Opening the conversation, he paid close attention to the emojis and noting the sentences this man has said to you.
“Hope you’ve had a great day🥰”
“Just checking in on you.”
“I assume we need to reschedule our study date for another time then.” 
Then the final one that really made him upset, the one he sent at the conference.
“Please check in with me so I know you’re doing well, I want to make sure you do great on this test😊” 
He scoffed and laughed darkly in disbelief before his eyes reverted back to you. 
“Well why don’t we get rid of your little boy toy here for good, shall we?” Before you had time to react he turned you around, forcefully bending you over the bed onto the satin sheets.
“I-I’m not ready, please, Cillian don’t do this!” His mind was too far gone. He had resisted temptation for too long, the way you dressed and talked like nothing you did affected him.
He knew you wouldn’t tell anyone, who could you tell? Your friends were convinced you left them in the dust as you hadn’t talked to them in almost a year, your parents wanted nothing to do with you once you married him and went to the lengths of blocking your number. He had you solely isolated and reliant on him, emotionally, financially, and now sexually. You just didn’t know that last part quite yet.
He slid your dress up harshly revealing the tight, nearly see through black panties you were wearing, that hugged your ass cheeks tightly, holding your pussy snuggly in the fabric. 
The phone was tossed to the side, you could hear the screen shattering on the floor as he stepped on it with hatred.
“I did my waiting. I’ve given you anything and everything you’ve ever wanted and it is my turn to receive some pleasure from this marriage.” His knee came up, pushing your legs a part, resting against your heat. As one of his hands held your small wrists in a grip that you knew you wouldn’t be able to wiggle out of.
His free hand undid his belt, the sound forcing tears to escape your tired eyes.
“What kind of a wife do you think you are? Because it’s not what one should be. Hiding other men from me, galloping around like you don’t owe me any pleasure or respect.” His armed swayed back, and down again the harsh leather slapping loudly against  your sensitive, delicate skin, forcing a cry to escape from your lips.
Another painful bow after another one and it brought him enjoyment to see you suffering beneath him, crying relentlessly as your ass cheeks turned a deep shade of red. 
The endless lashing as he spewed venom above had your chest rising and falling dramatically from the harsh reality this is whom you chose to marry. Your parents were right, you weren’t mature enough for marriage you weren’t ready for such a commitment and now you had no way out.
Flipping you over onto your back, his hand gripped your side, pulling your body aggressively toward him.
His member released from underneath the smooth fabric if his pants, popping up against his chest effortlessly. 
He was big, surely that wouldn’t fit in you would it?
Grasping at the sheets, attempting to get away from him his nails dug into your hips.
“I thought you’d like this Y/N, you crave attention from other men, anyone who would give you the time of the day. You’re nothing but a tease, a slut. Thinking you could disrespect me eh?” His hair hung over his forehead as his animalistic nature took over his entire being.
The sight of your young, beautiful, unflawed body sent thrills up his spine, his adrenaline pumping through his veins knowing that he’d be the only man able to take your virginity. 
The one whom claimed your innocence the day he layed his frigid eyes on yours.
He groaned in pleasure while you screamed as he pulled you down onto his rather large length forcefully, taking the breath from your lungs as your eyes widened.
Your eyes never left him, gazing at the man you know longer knew in a pained expression.
“My, my Mrs. Murphy, what a delicacy you are.” He pumped slowly in and out of you as you lay frozen, your stomach in knots.
“Why- why are you doing this to me?” If you had ever questioned if he was taking advantage of your age and the pure ignorance to all of the signs, you were sure now.
His tongue swiped over his bottom lip before biting agonizingly slow on his bottom lip, watching your not so innocent pussy suck his length in and slide back out, the tightness warming his cock.
He didn’t respond to you as he fucked into you raw, and mercilessly watching your tits bounce aggressively up and down, he knew he wouldn’t last long with an untouched, young body like yours.
His hands gripped your hips vigorously as you cried knowing you’d be unable to stop this from happening.
“I won’t have my wife being a fucking whore, the only thing you can be a whore for is my cock. If I find you talking to that little friend of yours again I’ll just have to try that back entrance I suppose.”
Your hands curled in the sheets as he towered over you, he could feel your slick start to warm up his cock even more, your walls tightening around his length involuntarily.
His thighs started to twitch and you knew what was about to happen.
“Cil-Cillian don’t!” But it was too late, his moans filled the bedroom as he shot his load up into your tight tunnel of ecstacy, his cock popping out of you.
You curled in on yourself completely petrified of the abusive nature Cillian contained.
When his hands settled on your hip, your body flinched away from his touch but he didn’t care.
“Pretty soon we’ll have our own little Murphy won’t we darling?” He exited the room and you heard the shower click on, you stared at the bathroom not daring to get up, the pain he inflicted in your most private area never going away, you were a battered wife.
The following month you had missed your period just as Cillian had planned.
He knew your weakness was the chance of being a mother, and you found yourself staying with him in hopes he’d change.
You never told a single soul about what he had done in fear of his high society status and the powerful people he knew that would turn your truth into lies to the public, making everyone hate you. No fan of Cillian’s would believe you, nor would his family and friends.
He’d leave you with absolutely nothing and for you to find your own way home, but what was home anymore? Your friends hated you, your family disapproved of your life you had nobody back in the states and Cillian surely would not claim to be the father of this child, giving you no support.
The first love you experienced, the first man who showed you attention was now your keeper.
To the public he was an innocent, charming, respectful, charismatic man, he would never do such awful acts to a woman.
Walking into the room pulling you away from the worrisome, intrusive though, Cillian came up behind you dressed in a suit and tie ready to head to the Oppenheimer premiere.
“You look dazzling my darling.” His hand cupped your now very visible bump, as he kissed your neck lovingly, softly. Something you had missed.
Tonight would be the first night you’d be in public since finding out you’re pregnant which you thought rather odd Cillian even invited you to go, due to the fact that this is his private life.
Escorting you out of the room, he opened the car door for you gracefully and when he settled his hand atop of yours you couldn’t help but shutter, still not being completely over what he did.
Once in front of the cameras you stuck on your happy face as Cillian played the devoted, caring husband part by assisting you out of the car, not once letting go of your hand.
His lips closed in, leaning ever so closely to your ear just barely touching your skin as he spoke forebodingly in your ear.
“Smile my darling, smile for the cameras.” 
301 notes · View notes
littlenightma · 3 months
Text
Warm Hands | Rusty Nail x Female!Reader | Part 2 (NSFW)
Author’s Note: Part 1
Tags: NSFW content, older man/younger woman, size difference, dubious consent, kidnapping, possessive behavior, Rusty is doting on reader, lots o’ smut.
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The convenience store had long disappeared beyond the horizon miles back, but you still stared at the rear view mirror hoping it would somehow appear again or that you would wake up in your bed letting you know this was all just a bad dream.
The snow storm was worsening as time passed, layering the road with snow, ice, and dirt. He took his time driving and acted nonchalant to the fact that he kidnapped you as he occasionally fiddled with the radio when it lost signal.
Your grocery bag sat in your lap, teasing you of what your night could have been. Watching your favorite show while you lounged on couch, eating your snacks and watching as the snow fell peacefully outside.
Yeah, what could have been.
“What’s your name?” you asked, breaking the silence.
“It’s Rusty. Rusty Nail.”
You visibly deflated. “I meant your real name.”
“That is my name.”
“No, it’s not. It’s a nickname. There’s a difference.”
Rusty shook his head, further cementing his previous statement. “I haven’t considered myself that name in years. Everyone knows me as Rusty and that’s what you’ll call me too.”
“Don’t you want to know my name at least?”
His eyes twinkled amusingly. “I already what your name is, [Y/N].”
Your mouth parted in confusion. “Wait — how do you know that?”
Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached into his jacket and pulled out your wallet, offering it back to you. His voice and face teamed up to convey their disapproval and you felt like a child being chastised by their parent for being caught sneaking out at night.
“This fell when you tried running away from me.”
You took your wallet and examined it in disdain. You never realized it fell nor that he picked it up. So now he knew not just your name, but also where you lived. Great. You stuffed it into your own jacket roughly, punishing it for making your situation worse.
“Where are we going anyway?”
“Home. It’s not too much further.”
You drew your eyebrows together. “You’re taking me to your home?”
He glanced at you then back to the road. “Where did you think I was taking you?”
You shrugged, mumbling quietly. “I don’t know, some cheap motel or something...”
He sighed heavily through his nose, chest rising and falling with confliction. He then rubbed his chin in thought before finally settling on what to say.
“Well, I ain't, so don't worry your pretty little head about it."
You scuffed at his absurd logic. “Yeah, like that’s what I’m worried about.”
Stop calling me pretty.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t going to hurt you.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No, but I know I won’t change your mind either.”
“You could let me go.”
His answer was quick and final. “No.”
You shook your bag in aggravation, crumbling the snacks inside. “Why not? Can’t you find someone else to fuck?”
He raised an eyebrow, giving you a questioning glance. “Who said anything about fucking you?”
Your eyes widened in disbelief. His head had to be screwed on too tight or maybe he was smoking more than just a nicotine cigarette.
“You! Back at the store you said you wanted company for the night. What else is that supposed to mean? I sure as hell know you’re not taking me home to chat about this lovely weather we’re having.”
He chuckled low, long fingers gliding across the steering wheel as he turned it. Those same fingers flexed away from the wheel before going back to gripping it until his knuckles turned white. His voice noticeably deepened in timbre, exacerbated with desire as he spoke.
“I have every intention on getting you in my bed tonight, but it isn’t to fuck you like some lot lizard I found slinking in the streets. Oh no, little one, I’m gonna be to taking my sweet time with you and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.”
In that moment, the truck passed another car who was going just as slow and careful. Their headlights brightened the tenebrous truck and in their hazy glow, Rusty’s blue eyes caught yours. They threatened you with a dark seductiveness and a dangerous allure and had Rusty not kept on driving you would have thought he was getting ready to pounce you right there.
You found yourself struck silent, dumbfounded and uneasy. You wordlessly turned back in your seat and watched as snowflakes hit the glass pane of your window. His words played back in your mind over and over again like it was an old VCR player and somebody was constantly pressing replay.
From his side of the truck, Rusty’s resistance was waning as time passed into the drive and the more he sensed your rising turmoil. He wanted to pull the truck over to the curb and spread you wide over his seats so he could quell your worries.
He had no intention of bringing home any woman when he stopped by the local shop to get a working lighter and a pack of cigarettes. After being on the road for months on end, he was ready to call it quits for a while, get some chores done around the house he’d been putting off and rest up while he had the chance to.
Funny how plans could change in a blink of an eye.
He swore he stood witness to an angel dashing through those sliding doors bearing a halo of snow and a mischievous smile highlighting your pink champagne lips. He smelled your shampoo when you whipped by briskly not sparing him a glance. He peered curiously over the shelves and watched you peruse the store in determination. He figured you were after something important like bread or milk or even a flashlight, but when you came around the corner carrying an accomplished grin and an arm full of sweets, he grinned himself.
Cute little thing.
He thought nothing more you after that, still intending to get his smokes and lighter and head home, but whether by accident or fate, his hand brushed yours when he passed you and it all hit him at once; your soft skin, your slight intake of breath, your timorous glance and just like that you had drawn him in. Rusty was enamored and he wanted nothing more than for you to follow him because between the few steps he took between you and the door, he decided he wasn’t going home alone tonight.
He waited patiently in his truck for you, cock already half-erect and painful from the delicious images in his head. He lit a cigarette and adjusted himself. Inclining his head back, he blew a few rings of smoke up into the air. His bed had been feeling mighty cold lately the thought of you warming it sounded too good too pass up. He looked out the window and saw you walking closer, eyeing his truck with apprehension.
Come to me, pretty girl. Just a little closer now.
He rolled the window down.
~ ~ ~ ~
“She ain’t much, but she’s home.”
He pulled the truck up a long and winding dirt road until a two-story, white farm house came into view. It looked run down and unkept, but it was a lot better than the dungeon you had pictured in your mind on the way there.
He got out of the truck and came around to your side. He unlocked your door with a key he took from his pocket and offered you a hand. You eyed it with uncertainty and glanced behind his raised arm into the vast darkness where the crystalline snow morphed into the black of night. You contemplated whether or not you should make a run for it.
“I know these mountains like the back of my hand. You’d never make it out of them before I or the animals get you and that’s only if you don’t freeze to death first. But—” He opened the door wider and stepped aside. “—If you’re that set on leaving then I won’t stop you.”
The chilly night air brushed against the back of your neck threateningly. You pressed your lips together. He was right. Running away would be a death sentence. What made it even worse was that you knew he knew you wouldn’t actually run so him giving you an opportunity to was his way of showing you who was actually in control and it was working. Begrudgingly, you placed a hand in his. He squeezed it, giving you a gruntled look.
“Good girl.”
Your heart skipped a beat. The people pleaser in you delighted in the praise even though it came from Rusty. He led you up the walkway still holding your hand. You didn’t understand why since it should have been clear that you weren’t going to run, but when when you almost slipped on a nasty patch of ice, he steadied you with his strong grip and his refusal to drop your hand became perfectly clear; he was making sure you didn’t fall and hurt yourself.
The inside of his house was interesting to say the least as it looked pretty much abandoned. Cobwebs hung in intricate designs from the ceiling fan and the hardwood floor had long lost its shine due to the several years worth dirt and dust doing their best to speed up the aging process. Various things were stacked into high piles in the corners of the room while others were haphazardly thrown about, forgotten and unused. The house appeared more like a storage unit than an actual home.
Rusty went and turned on a few lamps and the heating system, warming the house both in light and temperature. He came around and took off your coat and laid it on the back of the couch along with his two which left him in a green, button up flannel and a brown t-shirt. He was more well-built than you’d expected and when he bent down to pick up one of his coats that fell to the floor, his arm muscles flexed and you were intimidated by how dramatically they bulged.
He could really hurt me if he wanted to…
Curiosity got the best of you as you wandered the house. You were in awe with how much stuff there was to look at and for a couple of minutes your mind forgot why you were brought here in the first place as you glided your fingers across the different things you came across. Rusty trailed a few feet behind you. He kept quiet, letting you do your own thinking. He found himself growing more self conscious about the state of his house and hoped you didn’t find it too much of a wreck.
“You don’t really spend a lot of time here, do you?”
Rusty shook his head, a hint of regret in his voice. “No, not really. My job requires me to be on the road most of the time so everything in here just sits collecting dust for the most part. Could always use a women’s touch I suppose.”
“You mean to clean?”
Rusty grimaced when he realized how his comment came across and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”
You laughed softly. “I know what you meant. Maybe you’ll find someone who will add some life to this place.”
His gaze settled on you, unwavering and penetrating. “Yeah. Maybe.”
You turned away from his unspoken insinuation and met a set of stairs leading you up to what had to be his bedroom. It was the only room you hadn’t encountered yet. No longer feeling up to exploring you tried turning back, but Rusty stopped you short.
“You still have one more room left to see.”
You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t want to see it.”
He leaned in his closer as if to share a secret. His lips scraped your ear, traveling up to your temple, right above your eye where he pressed a kiss there. The small, loving gesture quelled your consternation, but a thick, foreboding cloud of doubt still lingered because the kiss held an implying promise of what was yet to come. You pressed your face into his chest seeking comfort and he rubbed your back a few times before he turned you around to face the stairs.
“Stairway to heaven, sweetheart. Up you go.”
He lightly swatted your backside causing you to yelp. You felt his chest move as he chuckled and pushed you forward. With your head bowed defeatedly, you trudged up the steps. Rusty couldn’t help but appreciate the sway of your hips and how tight your jeans were.
Entering the bedroom, he slid past you, catching one of your belt loops with his finger. He tugged you with him to the bed where he sat on the edge of it, pulling you between his knees. You wrapped your arms around yourself and waited for his direction. You felt out of place and worried that if you didn’t do good enough that it would cause him to become angry and lash out at you. Without dropping your gaze, he unbuttoned his flannel and peeled it off before lifting the brown t-shirt over his head, taking his hat with it. He threw the clothes and hat, well, you didn’t know where he threw them because you were too busy being mesmerized by his chest.
His chest was a chest belonging to a laborer, well muscled and broad. The temptation to touch him was hard to resist and before you knew it, you were exploring it like much like you did his house, running your fingers through the sparse salt and pepper hair. He radiated warmth like a cup of freshly poured coffee that you couldn’t wait to wrap your hands around and enjoy.
As you marveled his body, the next words tumbled out before you could stop them. “You’re really handsome, Rusty. Like one of those greek sculptures.”
The astonished look on his usual stoic face made you regret your words. He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. Embarrassed, you dropped your hands and whispered an apology. Rusty was quick to mend things.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, darlin.’ I just ain’t used to receiving compliments is all.” He grabbed your hands and placed them back on his shoulders and smiled gently. “Will you keep going for me?”
Instead of going back down his chest, you chose to run your hands up the back of his neck to his head. Rusty sat with his hands on your hips, enjoying the attention you were giving him. He closed his eyes when your nails scraped his scalp and groaned loudly.
“Fuck, baby. That feels nice.”
Without his eyes on you, you felt more comfortable to do your own thing and in a spur of confidence, you peeled your shirt off and unhooked your bra. Rusty opened his eyes questioningly and instantly locked onto your breasts that were bobbing teasingly a few inches away. His mouth parted and without a warning he latched onto a nipple and began sucking. His tongue swirled around it, hardening it until it was ripe, and he let it go to do the same to the other one.
Your head leaned back while your chest leaned forward into his mouth. One of your hands cradled the back of his head while the other raked through his long hair, pushing it back from his face so he could suck without interruption. You both groaned in unison from the reciprocating pleasure.
With your hands still lost in his hair, he roamed his own over your stomach, appreciating how perfect and healthy you looked. He wanted to mark you somehow. He wanted you remember this night long after it’s over, like a blood stain that refused to lift.
He suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist and hurled you onto your back on the bed. The old springs squealed beneath the toppling weight of you and Rusty. He loomed over you on all fours like a predator ready to ravage its prey. You felt the vibration of your zipper being pulled down against your pussy and it sent a jolt of adrenaline through you. Sliding his hands beneath you, he coaxed you up.
“Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”
Maybe it was his deep southern drawl or the way he naturally exuded power and dominance that compelled you to obey without question because as soon as he commanded you to, your hips were in the air. He pulled your jeans down until they were mid-thigh and from there he slipped your off your shoes and socks before sliding the jeans the rest of the way. So now you lay in his bed with nothing but a pair of panties and you couldn’t have been more nervous for them to be stripped away too.
You were a perfect balance between shy and tempting. You crossed your legs attempting to hide from his lecherous gaze, but it was fruitless. Rusty had already mesmerized your beautiful body and all its curves and bends. He grabbed the plush muscle of your thighs, kneading it like dough. His eyes asked for permission to go further, to finally touch you where he desperately wanted to. You sucked in a breath and nodded, looking up at him with so much trust. It warmed Rusty up better than any blazing fire ever could.
You’re safe with me, little one. You’ll always be safe with me.
He peeled your underwear down slowly. His eyes never rose until they were completely gone, tossing them aside like everything else. The air swept across your bareness and you knew there was no going back now. When he did finally look, he made a noise low in his throat and his eyes darkened to a deeper shade. Your pussy was already glistening for him. He pushed your knee with a heavy palm, prompting you to spread yourself.
His lecherous stare on any other man would have repulsed you, but on him it only made the butterflies in your stomach flutter eagerly. Gradually, like the first drifts of snow falling from a cliff before the start of an avalanche, the heavy walls you had built finally collapsed and you shuddered happily.
He playfully rubbed his chin on your thigh. The stubble from his jaw tickled your skin and you reacted in a fit of giggles. Rusty visibly lit up at the sound. He couldn’t remember the last time he heard laughter in his house. He did it again, eyes focused on you. He earned another laugh and loved the smile you tried preventing from spreading. You lurched forward and pushed his face away.
“Hey, stop that! It tickles!”
He smirked, feigning innocence. “Stop what?”
Your eyes narrowed. “You know what.”
“Let me just go down lower then…”
His full lips kissed your thighs, going further until they hovered over your folds. Your breath hitched when his hot breath warmed your pussy. He was so close, yet so far away. It was delicious torture. When you lifted your hips up to his mouth, he abruptly pulled away. You noisily voiced your dissatisfaction.
“Want do you want, baby? Use your words. I ain’t no mind reader.”
You lifted your hips again, begging helplessly. “Rusty.”
“Rusty what? What do you want me to do?”
“I want your mouth on me. Make me come, please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely…”
He used two fingers to spread your lips open and latched onto your clit without mercy. A guttural sound echoed in the room and your eyes widened when you realized it didn’t come from Rusty, but from you. This spurred Rusty on and he sucked your sensitive clit so good that you thought the roof was caving in as your eyes rolled back into your skull. You tangled your hands into his hair, using his face as a make shift saddle and his curls as the reins.
“That’s it, baby,” he praised adoringly between licks. “Make me put my mouth exactly where you want it.”
You tugged his hair and pushed him down in a particular spot that had you shaking and weeping because his stubbled chin rubbed your aching pussy in all the right and wrong ways. Soon you felt yourself drawing close to your release and you grinded fiercely on his face in anticipation.
“Rusty—” you gasped, back arching, “I’m going to cum. Don’t stop!”
You could bring any man to his knees by begging like that and you surely brought him to his. There was nothing Rusty wouldn’t have done for you in that moment if it meant hearing that sweet voice of yours crying out to him in ecstasy.
“Fill my mouth, little one,” he growled, reclaiming your pussy with an animalistic ferocity, hungrily eating you out with his entire face buried between your legs so that only the back of his head could be seen.
Like the good girl you were, you did exactly as you were told. Your ribs expanded from the gasp, head reeling back as your orgasm shook you. Rusty never stopped thrusting his tongue, lapping up every drop of your cum. He swiftly pulled you forward so could he drive his tongue further and as expertly as he drove his truck. From his position on his knees, he watched you writhe and squirm, unable to keep still from the intense pleasure that overwhelmed you.
Your thighs locked around his head and covered his ears, muffling your loud moans. Rusty licked everywhere, from the inside of your thighs to the very inner workings of your spasming pussy as if he was a starving man who refused to be wasteful. With a final swipe of his long tongue, Rusty had you cleaned up good. He then placed a satisfied kiss on your pussy before straightening himself.
“How you feeling?”
“I…I need a minute,” you said between breaths. “It’s never felt like that before.”
He kissed your shoulder, purring reassuringly. “Take all the time you need, darlin’. There’s no rush.”
Comforted by his words, you laid back leisurely on his pillows, still experiencing the aftershocks of your orgasm. Rusty laid beside you, running his hands over you soothingly. The lamp on his bedside table casted a tangerine glow on your body and it suited your flushed face perfectly.
A few hours ago you wanted nothing to do with Rusty or his hands. But now your eyes followed their every move, seeking them out when he raised them away then relaxing when he brought them back down again.
His movements casted a soporific effect on you, and soon your eyes began to flutter close and your breathing slowed down to an even rhythm. Your body sank deeper into the mattress as the tension left your body and to Rusty it only confirmed to him that he had an angel sleeping in his bed.
Rusty bent down and kissed the valley between your breasts, easing you back awake. “Don’t give out on me yet, pretty girl. We’re just getting started.”
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Text
Clawing my way out of depression with some incredibly silly Bumblebee x Reader, in which our beloved Scout is shrunk down to the size of a kitten via science magic and reader must keep him warm in their coat. Reader is gender neutral beyond having titties for Bee to huddle against. Read and join me as I defeat SAD with the power of silliness.
Shrunken Earthspark Bumblebee x GN!Reader
Rated PG for silliness, fluff and booby mention
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Hunkering down at the abandoned warehouse you'd been told to wait in, you kept your eyes and ears on the horizon, hoping that the hum of familiar engines would cut through the howling wind and whirling snow before long. Though the air was frigid enough to freeze your breath, the bitter cold accounted for only a small portion of your desire to swiftly reunite with the team, as you had much bigger problems that you needed help with. Well, perhaps "bigger" wasn't the right word for it...
Standing atop the opposite end of the windowsill for his own vigil, Bumblebee looked remarkably alert and well composed for someone a fraction of their natural height. You supposed that his brush with Mandroid could have gone much worse; at least the device the scientist had escaped with had only shrunk the Scout, and done no further harm. It was a double miracle that you'd managed to find his tiny form amidst the knee deep snow of the battlefield. Rubbing your gloved hands together and trying not to stare, you told yourself that Wheeljack would be able to fix everything in no time, and that a few broken laws of physics would return your beloved bot to his usual towering height. Seeing him this tiny was just too strange, and not to mention unspeakably adorable.
A kitten-sized sneeze drew your eyes away from the snowy landscape out the window, and you looked over to find the Scout hugging himself through a dramatic shiver. "Bee? You okay?" you asked quickly, unable to help feeling far more protective than usual.
"F-f-fine!" he replied just as quickly, spinning around to face you. Digits trembling, he forced a shaky smile as he attempted to pass off crossing his arms as a casual gesture, though the tiny crystals of ice you noticed spreading across his frame gave him up just as readily. The poor mech sounded like he was seconds away from turning into a tiny Autobot popsicle as he shivered through every syllable. "Just a little... ch-chilly... B-but I'm f-fine!"
A number of realizations pinged through your mind at once; Bee must have lost a considerable amount of heat while buried in the snow, he was now far too small to regain said warmth, and he had no real idea how to stop himself from freezing now that he didn't have mass to protect himself. His pride had undoubtedly kept him from voicing the problem as it worsened, leaving you with a very tiny and very frozen Scout to thaw. "You're obviously freezing! Why didn't you tell me?"
"N-never been a p-problem before..." he replied as he gave in and started to shiver. Your heart twisted in pity, and you looked about as your brain raced to think of a solution, the lack of supplies leaving you with very few options. There was no way to build a fire, nor was there any power supply to start up the building's climate control, which was probably busted anyway. If only you had a tiny jacket to share...
"I need to get you warm; fast. Let me think... oh!"
The solution that came to you was very silly, and in a less life-threatening situation you would have thought it was quite embarrassing, but the prospect of saving your beloved Scout left no room for such doubts. Unzipping the front of your coat, you offered a hand for him to climb onto.
"Come here. You'll be plenty warm under my coat." you explained, figuring he'd fit perfectly between your shirt and the ample padding. Despite the chill, Bee managed a pink blush across his frozen cheeks, optics going wide in bashful embarrassment as he put together what you meant. It seemed that his pride hadn't shrunk with him.
"Y-you don't have-"
"Shush. At this rate, you'll freeze before our ride gets here" you insisted, voice growing a tad more urgent at his worsening freeze. Just watching his wings shake in time with his shivers made you care little for any kind of pride, including your own, and you used your concern to remain steadfast. Bringing your hand close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating from your glove made his resolve visibly waver. "So for now, my heat is your heat."
"Mmm..." he hummed in uncertainty, growing more tempted by the second. No bigger than a kitten and only slightly more intimidating, he cracked after only a few additional moments of hesitation, steadying himself against your thumb as he sat in your palm. He couldn't have weighed more than a pound, and you had to stifle a reflexive squee as he instinctively pressed himself into the warmth of your hand. A drooping of his optics made resisting that much harder. "Maybe just for a few minutes..."
"Of course." you said with a knowing smile. Gently sliding him into the opening of your coat, you just managed to avoid hissing as his frigid mesh settled against your shirt, though it was easy to ignore the discomfort when the tiny bot melted against you. With the outcrop of your breasts to support him, and the... "plush" of the area in question to keep him comfortable, Bee settled down as quickly as one would on a luxary mattress. Shivers dying down before your very eyes, the Scout rested his helm against you with the tiniest sigh. You had an undeniable urge to pet him as you whispered down into the little pocket of warmth. "There. Better?"
"Much... thank you." he murmured, looking up to meet your eyes with a smile as grateful as it was sleepy. Hoping he couldn't hear the resulting flutter of your heart, you pulled the zipper up a tad to keep the heat from escaping, grateful that your mammalian physiology could come in such handy. You'd have happily watched him rest his optics for hours, but a hum in the distance drew your gaze to the frosty window. Through the thick whirls of snow, your squinting eyes made out the faint outline of a familiar truck and aircraft, followed by a number of other vehicles you'd been hoping to see. The convoy had arrived.
"I think that's our evac, do you want-"
You went quiet at the sound of the tiniest snores you'd ever heard emanating from your coat, and as soon as your heart was done with its backflip, you found yourself wondering whether or not Bee would wish to be woken before his comrades saw him snoozing atop your breasts.
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e-spexially · 2 months
Text
cowboy like me
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pairing: billy the kid x lucy gray baird
summary: "sure would have been nice to meet you under different circumstances."
ib: these two edits by @lg.baird and @beatrixsfx on tiktok
note: this is purely self-indulgent, I saw these and felt SO angsty and inspired :(
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The saloon was nicer than most that Billy had entered in the past. Smoke danced in the air and the room was dimly lit by the oil lamps placed on each table, giving the entire room a dreamy haze.
They even had live music. Not the kind where drunk men played the piano or gave some warbled rendition of an old folk tune, either. No, up on stage was a band. Two young women and two young men, playing instruments that appeared well cared for. The one singing looked to be the youngest of the bunch, blonde and fresh with her vocals.
It was a fast-paced melody and the already tipsy men and women of the saloon were on their feet in the small clearing between the tables that served as a dancefloor.
Billy walked up to the bar and bought himself a drink, trying to blend into the crowd. The music was a breath of fresh air from the constant drone of the outdoors he had been spending his time in lately. Being on the run was tiring and it was nice to finally sit in a real chair, surrounded by other people.
As he hunched over his drink, considering a game of poker, the song ended with a wave of applause, and the blonde girl spoke out to the crowd.
"Alright, y'all! For this next number, help me give a big, warm welcome to my cousin, Lucy Gray Baird!"
The blonde's energy was infectious and her request drew more applause from the crowd, even Billy. He supposed the group must have been well known, but he was out of the loop these days.
Then something unexpected happened. Onstage, walked one of the prettiest girls Billy had ever laid eyes on. Lucy Gray Baird was a dark-haired beauty, with a sweet smile and an air of confidence. His attention was hers without the girl even having to try. But then again, so was everyone else's. More applause rang out as she shot the crowd a smile, delicately cradling her shining, black guitar.
"Evenin', everyone!" She said to them in a melodic voice. "I hope y'all are enjoyin' the night so far. For this song, I'm gonna slow things down a bit and give everyone the chance to hold that special someone a little bit closer."
Billy felt the need to sit up straighter, to show that he was giving her performance the respect it deserved. And it truly did.
Everyone's born as clean as a whistle
As fresh as a daisy and not a bit crazy
Staying that way's a hard row for hoeing
As rough as a briar,
Like walking through fire
As Lucy Gray sang, he realized his father had been wrong before. The stars weren't a reflection of his own light, but hers. He'd spent countless hours staring at the night sky and he'd never met anyone that made him feel the way that view did. Not until tonight.
People were dancing, just as she had hoped. They held each other and swayed to the simple tune. She watched them proudly with a bright smile, as though her intention was merely to create the noise that seemed to move them, not be their sole focus. But he just couldn't help focusing on her, he couldn't look away. Her dark eyes scanned the crowd and Billy felt his heart skip a beat.
This world, it's dark
This world, it's scary
I've taken some hits, so no wonder I'm wary
It's why I need you
You're as pure as the driven snow
That's when they locked gazes with each other and the haze of the room matched the one he was feeling. Lucy Gray smiled a little wider when this happened and something inside him wondered if she knew what he was feeling. Did she? Or, better yet, did she feel it too?
The song continued and then ended, too quickly. She sang two more, their eyes meeting again and again. His drink was gone, the poker game long forgotten as well. Once her set reached its close, she immersed herself in the crowd with another young woman, the others onstage keeping the atmosphere going. Billy watched Lucy Gray being praised by many for her songs and smiled to himself.
She really deserved it. His leg bounced anxiously and the air felt electric, like something was fixing to happen. He knew what Jesse would say if he was here.
"Better make your move now, kid. 'Fore someone beats you to it."
Billy inhaled sharply, trying to give himself a boost of confidence. He suddenly felt thankful that he decided to wash before leaving the rooming house that night. Giving the bar a quick tap, he rose to his feet and made his way through the crowd to her.
She was in the middle of speaking to the women about her dress when he walked up, excusing himself and hoping she didn't find him rude for interrupting.
"Good evening." He held his hat against his chest. Lucy Gray stared up at him with a curious glimmer in her eye, catching sight of the pistol around his waist momentarily. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I was hoping I could buy you a drink?"
She looked pleasantly sheepish. Exchanging a quick word with the other women, she nodded.
"I don't see why not."
He breathed a sigh of relief and gestured for her to go first, setting his hat back atop his head. He didn't have much money left, but spending it on her felt like the right choice.
Purchasing two whiskeys, he handed her one and watched as she perched on the stool.
"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name," she spoke, taking a sip.
"Right," said the man, wiping his hand on his pants before extending it, as if he were afraid to get her dirty. "I'm Billy."
Lucy Gray smiled and shook his hand. It sent a jolt right through him and he averted his eyes for a moment. She stared at him thoughtfully, resting the whiskey glass against her shoulder.
"Are you enjoyin' the show, Billy?"
"Oh yeah," he replied, hoping he didn't sound too eager. "I liked that first song of yours, the one about the snow."
She looked pleased by this and he could tell she liked speaking about her music.
"Really? I'm glad to hear it!" Sipping her whiskey, she had an excited, almost nostalgic look in her eye. "I wrote that one a few months back when we were still up north. It snowed all the time up there and it just got me to feelin' inspired."
Billy leaned against the bar, taking in the smokiness of her voice. He could listen to her talk forever.
"Up north? You travel a lot?"
Lucy Gray nodded.
"Us Covey travel wherever the fancy takes us," she said. "We spent a good while doin' shows to keep ourselves fed and moved around until we needed more money. Then this fella named Jones picked us up somewhere in Sacramento and said he'd help us get our very own tour through the lower United States."
Moving from state to state by choice was a luxury he couldn't fathom. Ever since he was a boy, moving had been about survival. Billy thought he'd like to live a life like Lucy Gray's, to see the world of his own accord and not because he was running from something. He finished off his whiskey.
"That sounds nice, just bein' free," he mused, mainly to himself. This earned a head tilt from her and her mouth turned up in a small smile.
"I figured cowboys were as free as they come." That made him laugh and he set the glass down.
"I'm no cowboy."
"Well, you sure look the part," joked Lucy Gray. She looked around the saloon at the crowd and then her eyes found the dancefloor. "Hey, how 'bout a dance?"
Billy looked over his shoulder at the patrons slow dancing, feeling a bit more bold on account of the drinks he'd had. He glanced back at her and held out his hand.
"I don't see why not."
She drank the last of her whiskey before letting him lead her out onto the floor. He pulled her a bit closer, his hand finding her waist and hers his shoulder. Something about her demanded to be seen, to be admired. He might not have been the smartest when it came to women, but he knew from the start that she had all the control. What's more, he wasn't even sure it was intentional, but he knew he liked it.
As they danced, she studied his face a bit more.
"You're that outlaw, aren't you?" Billy felt his face flush and looked around for a moment before she laughed. "Don't worry, I wouldn't say anythin'. Not before I heard your story, anyways."
"My story?"
"Sure, everyone's got one." He pondered this for a moment, giving her a shrug.
"S'not exactly the kind people like to hear," he admitted. "It's got lots of sad bits."
"Well, those kinds of stories make the best songs." Lucy Gray looked up at him through her eyelashes. He wondered what his life would sound like through her pen, if she'd be able to take something dark like that and make it beautiful.
Maybe he'd tell her another time. He hoped there would be another time.
"I'll tell it to you someday." It felt like a promise, mainly to himself, that he'd see her again.
"I hope you will." She seemed content to let it rest at that for now. "Those posters don't do you justice, y'know? You're much more handsome up close."
A soft blush appeared on his face and he laughed it off.
"I'm sorry you had to see those, they're not exactly a likeness."
"You're right," she said gently. "I expected someone much scarier, the way people talk about you."
Billy's heart sank a bit at that. He hoped she hadn't heard anything too bad and if it was the truth being passed around, he only hoped she wouldn't judge him for it.
"I hope you'll give me a chance to prove that m'not so scary."
"Don't worry, gorgeous, I don't scare easily." He chuckled and she leaned in a bit. "This is the part where you spin me."
"Yes ma'am," the man drawled, obliging by holding onto her fingertips and twirling her around. Lucy Gray moved gracefully and she gave off the scent of fresh linen with a hint of wildflowers. He imagined her traveling through a field of them somewhere, carrying her guitar in one hand and a suitcase of all her belongings in the other.
What did she take with her? Were there pictures, family heirlooms she held dear enough to carry on her travels? Billy thought back to his mother's gold ring that rested in his pack back in the room he was renting. Did Lucy Gray have anything that precious to her?
She giggled as she spun back into him, bringing that field of flowers right with her. He maneuvered her around into a smooth circle around him before wrapping an arm around her torso.
"You're not bad on the dancefloor for an outlaw!" She said.
"All that time on the run, you get good on your feet," he joked. He savored the laughter that left her chest. It felt genuine and warm, just like her.
The song ended and she went to hold his hands in her own, smiling up at him as the crowd began thinning, the blonde on stage announced that the band would be heading out for the night.
"Thank you for this, Billy," beamed Lucy Gray. "It's just been wonderful."
He nodded earnestly, hoping he had made an impression.
"No, thank you. I can't remember the last time I had a drink and a dance with a nice girl, especially one as pretty as you." Her eyes sparkled at that, almost like she didn't want it to end. He knew he didn't. "Could I walk you out?"
She agreed and they returned to the stage to retrieve Lucy Gray's guitar, along with the bottles of whiskey given by the owner for their work. Then they headed out behind the saloon with the rest of the band, the others buzzing in excitement about the energy of the audience.
"These Texans sure do like their dancing. And their bars!"
"I'll say, you see that man spinnin' his wife around? I thought they were both liable to topple over the way he was drinking!
They were walking in the direction of a small cabin that resided some yards away from the building, a lamp left on the dirt by the front step. It looked cozier than the rooming house for sure.
Billy stopped just as the band piled into the cabin, leaving the door open for Lucy Gray. He could hear the chatter continue from inside.
"Will I see you again? I'd sure like to hear another one of your songs."
"You might see me around. If you're on the run like you say you are, we'll cross paths again."
He hoped so. God, did he hope so.
"You have a lovely voice, my mother would have liked to hear you sing." Lucy Gray sensed the twinge of sadness in the tone and pressed her lips into a thin line.
"They're never far, the ones we love." She studied him for a moment before plucking the striped feather from her dark curls and holding it out to him. "Here, take this. Add some life into that hat of yours."
He huffed in amusement at the feather but took it and tucked it into the band of his old hat.
"How do I look?"
"Like a cowboy." Lucy Gray nodded approvingly. "I hope you could return it to me someday soon?"
"Oh, you bet."
"Good," she said. "You still owe me that story, William H. Bonney."
McCarty, Billy wanted to tell her. His name was McCarty.
"And then you still owe me a song," he replied lightly, deciding against it. Lucy Gray nodded, looking wistful.
"You got yourself a deal." She held her hand out to him and they stayed there for a moment, hands joined. Could he say goodbye? Did he even have a choice? Lucy Gray was free and he wasn't. Sure, he could have joined her on her travels, but no good came with moving alongside an outlaw.
No, none of that. For tonight, he'd let her go and pray that fate would bring them together again.
"Good night, Lucy Gray." He spoke first. She smiled up at him and gave his hand a single shake.
"Good night, Billy."
After that, he watched her walk into the cabin and shut the door, but not before giving him a final wink. Once she was out of sight, he let out a deep sigh. It felt like he'd just woken up from a dream, the good kind that you hope you have again.
Feeling his boldness leaving him and the night's activities taking their toll, he turned on his heel and started for the rooming house, humming Lucy Gray's song all the while.
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