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kiss-theggoat · 10 months

Note

Would you write for Thomas Hewitt ?

A/N: I just recently watched this version and hubba hubba I’m in love with Mr Thomas Hewitt. I’ve only seen this one twice, so if some characters are out of character, I apologize! I hope you like it as much as I do bc this boy deserves better!

Bluebonnets

Thomas Hewitt x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: You and your friends stopped for gas in a rinky dink little town in Texas, but the Hewitt family thinks that you’d be perfect for their little Tommy.

TW: Violence and Gore, Death, Hoyt is a pervert, Cannibalism, Sort of Stockholm Syndrome, Ends with fluff

The sun beat down on your face as you laid your head back against the rough leather seat, deeply regretting the fact that you agreed to drive in a convertible through Texas in the middle of August. Your sweat broke through the barrier of sunblock, leaving your skin sticky and shiny, the humid wind doing absolutely nothing to cool you off.

“We’re almost outta gas!” Johnny yelled, his hand on Sue’s thigh. She rolled her eyes and scoffed at him. “I thought we gassed up in Austin!”

He shrugged. “We did. Getting bad gas mileage I guess!”

She groaned, throwing her head back in frustration. You were relieved to finally get out of the car and into some sort of building, hopefully with air conditioning. You sat in the back, squished against the side of the car by Tyler and Ginny making out, taking up almost the entire seat. You felt a little bit fifth-wheel-y, but you knew your friends would’ve given you so much shit if you refused to come.

Johnny pointed to a sign up ahead, faded and cracked from the relentless Texas sun. In light pink, what used to be red, the sign said, ‘GAS AND BARBECUE NEXT EXIT’. Johnny laughed, squeezing Sue’s thigh with a sweaty palm. “Barbecue, babe! Let’s go!”

Sue sighed. “Fine.” She turned to everyone in the back, and you saw that she was just as sweaty as you, tanned skin shining in the sunlight. “Everyone okay with stopping here.”

For some reason, this got on your nerves. You didn’t know if it was the fact that you’d been in the car for six hours or the fact that you were baking like a casserole in 100 degree weather. Or maybe it was the fact that everyone in the car was giving eachother fuck-me eyes, like a sick joke you weren’t apart if. And, on top of that, the last thing you wanted after being in 86 percent humidity was fucking barbecue. “Where the hell else are we going to stop? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Sue gave you a look before you were interrupted by Ginny. “Here’s fine, babe!” She smiled at Sue, her lips red and swollen from being absolutely ravished by her scrawny boyfriend. You crossed your arms and laid your head back down, trying your best to meditate your way out of this road trip.

You guess it worked because before you knew it, you were pulling into the run-down gas station, car switching off with an alarming squeal. You hopped out of the car, not bothering to talk to any of your friends, and went inside. Your stomach turned. Instead of the blissful air conditioning you were yearning for, you were smacked in the face by the putrid smell of rotting meat. Flies buzzed around your face, and you swore it was hotter in here than it was outside.

Looking around, there was a convenience store area, a case to your left with meat inside, and a little old lady sitting behind the counter. You took a deep, stabilizing breath. You were pissed and over this trip, but you knew better than to take it out on some poor unsuspecting stranger. You put on a smile and walked towards her, pulling your shorts further down your thighs. The old lady looked up at you and then back down at her book, before doing a double take. She took her glasses off, then gave you a small smile.

“Hi sweetie. What can I do for you?”

She’s nice, you thought. You liked when old ladies called you cute names. You smiled brighter at her, feeling relieved that one person was making you feel actual joy on this trip. “Hi, ma’am. Is there a bathroom here.”

“Yes, hun, it’s outside, around the side of the station.” She said, handing you a key ring. You tried not to let your face scrunch in disgust, but you were pretty sure there was a real rabbit's foot on this thing. You grabbed the key from her, avoiding the furry foot, and told her, “Thank you so much. My friends are also going to use the restroom so I’ll have this back in a few minutes.” She nodded at you, going back to her book.

You pushed the door open, actually relieved to be outside. You welcomed the smell of dust that Texas had gotten you used to instead of the rancid steaks. As you walked towards the bathroom, Sue grabbed your arm, making you jump. “What the hell is up with you?” She asked, staring at you accusingly.

You sighed, feeling better after your pleasant exchange with the old woman. “I’m sorry for being snippy. I’m just tired and hot and…done being in the car.” You said quietly, shaking her off to go towards the dilapidated bathroom.

“You can have the front seat from now on, you can actually feel the AC a little bit sometimes.” She said, following you.

You put the key in the door and twisted it. “It’s okay. The sun goes down in like…an hour and a half? It should cool down.” The moment the door swung open, you were hit with that same raunchy smell. You put a hand over your nose and grimaced, “It smells like this inside too…” you sighed, slowly walking into the single stall bathroom.

You couldn’t have pissed faster. You quickly washed up and nearly sprinted from the bathroom back towards the car, holding your face the entire time. The cheap soap from your hands also smelled bad, but compared to the smell of the bathroom, it was like the world's most expensive perfume. “Uhm…does anyone else need to use the bathroom? I have to return the key.”

Everyone shook their heads, but Johnny spoke up. “We’ll go with you. We’ll get food and pay for the gas.”

You nodded and opened the door to the station for everyone, watching in amusement as all of their faces twisted with disgust just as yours did when you first smelled it. The old lady looked up again, and instead of her smile she wore a sneer as she watched Johnny walk up to her. “We need twenty dollars on pump one.” He said, not looking at her and pulling out his wallet.

“We don’t have gas.” She said quickly and coldly, holding her book up in front of him. “Haven’t for a couple weeks.”

Johnny scoffed in disbelief, tossing his hands down on the counter. “So you’re the only gas station for 100 miles and you don’t have any gas?”

She shrugged, not answering.

“Well, when are you gonna have gas?” Ginny asked, also putting her hands on the counter.

“Could be a week. Maybe more.”

Johnny looked down in the case, noticing the green meat and flies swarming. “So no gas and I’m guessing…” he tapped aggressively on the glass. “No barbecue?”

The old lady took her glasses off again, irritated. “We got food.” She pointed behind your group to shelves of food that looked like it was from the 1940’s.

Johnny laughed, head rolling back. “You’ve got to be kidding me, lady! You have to take that sign down if everything is a fucking lie!”

You stepped forward, putting an arm in front of Johnny’s torso and pushing him away from the counter slightly. “I’m sorry ma’am. We’ll find somewhere else to go, thank you for your help and letting us use the restroom.” You said, sliding the key back over the counter. You felt bad for her. Obviously this town wasn’t a money pit, and maybe she did have a popular place before, but it looks like everything’s gone out of business. Maybe she’s barely surviving, the last thing she needs is five twenty-something year olds harassing her for things she can’t control.

She gave you her attention, unlike your friends. She smiled at you, grabbing the key back from you. “Thank you, young lady. You’re very polite. Maybe you could teach your friends there some manners.” She said, pointing to Johnny and Ginny with her glasses. Johnny scoffed and started to yell something, but you quickly yanked on his shoulder to usher them out of the building. You nodded at the woman with a smile before leaving. You bumped into Johnny’s back hard, wondering why the hell he stopped in front of you like that.

You moved out from behind him to see a cop. “Great, the old hag called the cops!” Johnny groaned, only shutting up when Sue rubbed his bicep. You never liked Johnny.

“We ain’t get no call folks. Came here for some refreshments.” The cop said, pointing to his badge. “And I ain’t just any cop. Sheriff. Sheriff Hoyt.”

Johnny sighed, nodding. “Okay, Sheriff. Where’s the nearest gas station? This dump doesn’t have gas.”

“It ain’t nice to disrespect someone’s business, boy.” The sheriff scowled, spitting black tobacco onto the concrete. You could feel your heart rate rising, you knew that Johnny was going to get you in trouble somehow. You looked around, finally seeing the sheriff’s cruiser parked behind the convertible. As you peered inside, you noticed a man sitting in the passenger seat. You couldn’t see him too well, but he was large, blocking up pretty much the entire window.

“It’s hardly a business. Pretty sure there’s botflies inside, could kill someone.” Johnny started to walk away, but the Sheriff stepped in front of him to block his path. “What’s your fucking problem?”

The sheriff stared into Johnny’s eyes, scowling. You could sense the tension, and decided you’d be the peace keeper of the day. “Sir…sir, we’re sorry. We’re just almost out of gas and we’ve been traveling for a long time.” You said, stepping towards the Sheriff.

His eyes raked over you, making you feel sort of icky. You wished you were wearing a winter coat, despite the heat. He spit again, a gross squelch breaking the silence. “Finally someone with some manners.”

Johnny laughed, “What the fuck is up with old people and manners?! Jesus Christ, we just need gas!” He yelled, shoving the Sheriff’s shoulder. You gasped, grabbing Johnny’s arm but in the blink of an eye, a revolver was being pointed at Johnny’s face. Everyone froze, staring at the firearm.

“Now are you gonna show some respect, boy? I’m the Sheriff of this town and I’m not gonna tolerate a group of hoodlums messin’ things up.” He said, voice hushed, almost a whisper.

You nodded quickly. “Yes, sir. We’re leaving. Let’s go.” You moved towards the car, but the Sheriff stopped you.

“Y’all think you can just stroll into a town, cause trouble, and go?” He laughed, cocking the gun with a haunting click. “Tommy!” He yelled, turning his head towards the car. The door slowly opened and you watched as a mammoth of a man stepped out, dress shirt and apron giving him an even larger silhouette. He wore a mask with messy brown hair, broad shoulders slouched. Your heart skipped a beat. Wrong situation to think this, but the man was quite handsome. You’d always liked bigger men.

“Please sir…we don’t want any trouble. We’d just like to be on our way, we’ll leave and never come back.” You pleaded, hands out in front of you. Gravel crunched beneath the huge man’s feet as he walked towards your group. The sheriff turned to him. “Whadya think Tommy?” He asked with a cruel cackle.

The ringing of a bell made you turn back towards the station, and you saw the old lady standing there. She held her reading glasses, and pointed at you with them. Your heart dropped. What did this mean? You turned back to the sheriff, and he looked just as confused as you did. She scoffed at his confusion. She wanted to tell him something, but didn’t want you and your friends to hear it. She waddled over slowly, but Johnny had other ideas. He spun quickly, hitting the sheriff’s arm, but unfortunately, it didn’t cause him to drop the gun. Tyler started to run, Ginny tried to help Johnny, and Sue grabbed your arm. “Let’s go! We need to run!” She yelled.

Your ears rang at the close range of the gunshot, you fell to your knees, scraping them, and covered your ears with your hands. You heard a scream, immediately recognizing it as Sue. You turned around to see Johnny, laying on the dirt with blood pooling around him, a perfect bullet wound in the center of his forehead. You felt nauseous, but you couldn’t move. Looking up, you saw the smoking revolver gripped tight in the sheriff's hand, now focused on Sue. She was hunched over Johnny’a body, sobbing and screaming, the tears making trails of clean skin as they wiped away the thin layer of dust.

Somewhere to your right, another scream. Ginny. You saw the large man, who the Sheriff called Tommy, holding her up in the air on his shoulder. She banged against his chest with knees and hit his back with her fists, thrashing and screaming. On his other arm, he held the limp body of Tyler, blood dripping from his head and beading in the dust, tucked beneath his armpit. This man carried two grown adults effortlessly, his strength scared the hell out of you. You didn’t even see if he had a weapon, but he managed to take them both down.

You sat in terror. You wanted to run, but with a revolver focused on your head, what were your options. The old lady appeared on your left, hand touching the Sheriff’s shoulder. She leaned in to whisper, but you heard her.

“Don’t touch her. Keep her for Tommy.”

Keep her for Tommy? What the fuck did that mean? You stared up at them in fear and watched as he groaned, pointing the gun at Sue instead. She didn’t even look phased, too focused on her boyfriend’s dead body. Tommy loaded the other two into the back of the car, and then made his way back towards you. Tears welled in your eyes as he approached, his shadow looming over you and finally blocking you from the sun. As he got closer, you saw the detail in his face and clothes. He had pretty eyes and his hair looked soft, but his bloody clothes and tight leather mask contrasted the softness of the rest of him.

He grabbed your arm in a surprisingly soft grip, the only thing disconcerting about his touch was the slickness from the blood that he left on your skin. He pulled you towards the car, and it was obvious he wanted you to follow. The old woman put a hand on his shoulder and affectionately patted his chest, he leaned down to her level. She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and told him, “She’s perfect for you, Tommy.”

You finally realized what was going on. They were setting you up with him, like you and your friends were on some sort of sick dating game. You stumbled as you followed him to the cop car, his head was down and his shoulders were slumped as he opened the front passenger side and moved aside. You looked up at him. He wanted you to get in, but he didn’t put you in the back like you thought he would, and for that, you were grateful. The last thing you wanted to do was sit beside the bleeding, passed out bodies of two of your friends.

You took a seat in the scalding car, body swaying with the force that he shut the door. He stood in front of the door as if keeping watch, like a prison guard. You stared in horror as the sheriff finally had enough with Sue, giving her the same fate as Johnny. She laid on his chest, her blood mixing with his as the sheriff walked away from their bodies. You were grateful you were far away from them, both because you didn’t want to see your best friend die, and your ears were still ringing from the first gunshot.

The sheriff entered the car, flashing you a creepy smirk before you felt Tommy enter the backseat. You stared out the window, definitely in shock and confused. Just twenty minutes ago the worst of your problems was having to pee on a road trip and now you just watched all of your friends either die or be brutally attacked by someone who is supposed to protect the community. You had a feeling he wasn’t a real sheriff, given the nature of the recent events.

You laid your head against the door. You hadn’t noticed how tired you were, but you guessed experiencing something like that would be hard on your body. Feeling fairly confident that they wouldn’t kill you, you drifted off to sleep as he drove who knows where.

You only woke up to the sound of a door slamming and you realized that it was dark outside. You had no idea where you were or how long you’d been driving, but you felt disgusting. Cheeks stiff with tears, nose running, mouth dry and eyes burning. Your door opened and you were being yanked out by the sheriff, who was much rougher with you than Tommy was. You winced at how tight he was holding you as he dragged you towards a fairly large country style home.

The door was kicked open and you saw the same old woman from the station holding a pot of food. “Finally, Charlie. Tommy had to help cook.” She scoffed, setting the pot down at the large dining room table, where an old man already sat.

“Dammit, Luda Mae, I told you! It’s Sheriff Hoyt! You hear me!” He yelled, hitting the wall with his free hand, making you jump. You were putting the pieces together. There was Hoyt, or Charlie apparently, Tommy, Luda Mae, and then this old man. They lived together, probably related.

You looked around, saw the table full of food, dusty knickknacks, bones hanging from the ceiling. It all felt like a sick mix of home and hell. The rugs and the quilts on the plush couches looked knit, and the lamps give the room a comforting glow. If you weren’t here under these circumstances, you might find this house cozy.

Hoyt forced you to the table, plopping you down across from the old man already seated. He tied your wrists to the chair with leather straps that were bolted in. Obviously, this wasn’t their first time offense. Your fingertips began to cool with how tight the leather was cinched, and you whimpered at the pain. Luda Mae sat next to the old man, smiling at you.

“Oh dear. The moment I saw you, I knew that my Thomas would like you. We’re so happy to have you here.” She sounded genuinely happy, and you couldn’t help feeling sorry for this family. You heard Hoyt bang in something and yell Tommy’s name, then a loud sliding sound. Thomas walked into the dining room and took a seat next to you, across from Luda Mae. Hoyt took the head of the table, standing over the pot with a giant ladle.

“Well thanks to this pretty lady…” he said, winking at you, warning a scoff from Luda Mae, “and all of her friends… we’ll have dinner for the next couple a’ weeks!” He grabbed Thomas’ bowl and dropped in a ladle full, then the same with Luda Mae’s. As he served you, you noticed large chunks of game-y looking meat inside of your stew. Surely he didn’t mean….

You stared in horror at your food, lips sealed shut in fear that you may vomit. Your mouth watered with the insatiable urge to throw up everywhere, and you felt a cold sweat break out on your forehead. You watched as everyone dug in, eating with a fervor that said they’d been starving for a month. They moaned in joy at the flavor of the food, occasionally complimenting Thomas or Luda Mae for the cooking. Only you and Thomas weren’t eating. He because he didn’t want to remove his mask in front of you, and you because you weren’t really on board with cannibalism.

“Don’t be ungrateful, boy. Eat your damn dinner!” Hoyt yelled, a cooked carrot flying from his mouth onto the table as he slammed his hand down. Thomas jumped and put his hands near his face, like he was expecting to be hit. Your heart ached for him. It was obvious he didn’t want to do this. He wasn’t evil like the rest of them, he was forced to do this. You watched him slowly unbuckle the leather strap of his mask and slide it off, revealing a scarred face, exposed nose cartilage and teeth, mangled jaw bones. You felt terrible watching him keep his face down, hair covering it. He was ashamed.

He picked up a spoon, but still didn’t eat. He just stirred the stew. Obviously you wouldn’t know this, but he didn’t want to eat in front of you, because eating was a little difficult for him. He was more prone to spilling food on himself or getting messy and spilling down his chin. Not exactly the way to impress your new date.

You swore that Hoyt was turning red with rage. “Dammit boy! Your momma made this dinner and you’re just gonna stare at it?!” He growled, slapping Thomas upside the head. Anger filled your chest as you watched Thomas cover his head, eyes clenched shut. What made you even angrier is that Luda Mae and the old man just sat there, eating like nothing was wrong.

“Don’t hit him.” You said. Your throat was hoarse, you haven't talked in a while.

“Fuck you say to me, girl?”

You looked Hoyt in the eyes. “I said…don’t hit him.”

He sneered and leaned over the table, knocking the spoon from his empty bowl. “Oh I see…Tommy needs his little girlfriend to defend him, huh? Listen here, you little bitch-“

“Hoyt, be kind to our guest.” Luda Mae said, eating the last of her potato. She looked over at you, and then at Thomas. She was happy that you stood up for him.

Hoyt laughed at her, shaking his head. “Pathetic.” He grumbled, throwing his bowl to the center of the table. “Neither of ya wanna eat dinner? Fine!” He walked over to Thomas and grabbed his hair, yanking his head back, and with the other hand, he grabbed his mask. He slammed his mask hard against Thomas’s face, making him wince. “Ya can just go back to your little fuckin’ basement then.”

He walked over to you, roughly unstrapping your wrists. Blood flowed back into the white spots, and you knew it’d bruise. “And take your bitch with ya.” He growled, shoving you over towards Thomas. Thomas had just finished securing his mask, and he gently grabbed your sore wrist. You followed him while looking behind your back, staring spitefully at Hoyt, who shamelessly watched your ass as you walked away.

Thomas slid a huge wooden door out of the way and led you down a staircase. The basement smelled rancid, like stale metal and rotting meat. As you walked in, you knew why. Weapons hung from the ceiling, a workbench in the center of the room. Blood coated the entire floor, and some dropped steadily from the table, giving you the sound like a very messed up metronome. A bed in the corner called your name despite the stained mattress. It had no pillows, no sheets, no blankets. You looked at Thomas.

“You…sleep here?” You asked meekly and watched as he gave you a very tiny nod, looking at the bed. He led you over to it, and held your shoulders, sitting you down. He let you sit there for a second and then he walked away, going to sit in a chair on the other side of the room next to his work table. He wanted you to sleep in his bed, but he wasn’t going to?

Your chest swelled with the kindness of this poor man. A pure soul forced into the mud by his corrupt family. You stood up and took a step towards him. “I don’t want to take your bed. It’s yours.”

He shook his head and walked back to you, grabbing your shoulders again to sit you down. You gave in because the feeling of this stained, thin mattress was like heaven, despite the fact that you could feel the springs digging into your back as you laid down. You stared at him for a moment as he began to rummage through items on his shelf. Your eyes began to close, eyelids feeling like they had ten pound weights attached.

He turned around, holding something small and dainty in his large and veiny hands. He sat at your feet, a gentle hand placed on your ankle. You glanced down at him as he held out a dried Bluebonnet to you. You smiled softly and took it from him, feeling its soft stem and looking at its pretty periwinkle petals. “Thank you…” you mumbled sleepily.

You thought, just before you fell asleep, that there were two things in this basement that didn’t belong. Everything in this house was drenched in blood and fear and grime, this basement was disgusting and horrifying. But, in all of the terror, you had this beautiful Bluebell, a reminder of the open, sweet smelling fields of Texas, and even more pure, you had Thomas.

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x you #leatherface #texas chainsaw massacre

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saiidahyunie · 4 months

Text

paradoxical

im nayeon x 10th member!reader ; smut

synopsis: it’s hard to get a read on nayeon, especially when she’s all over you.

wc: 4.1k

warnings: smut!!! ; somnophilia ; praising ; crying ; choking ; edging ; whipped reader ; nayeon is a brat ; just filth hehe ^_^ ; cursing ; might not be proofread

a/n: starting off the new year with a bang! this anon request was too good to pass up on and i hope you all enjoy some top nayeon content!!!!!

—

nayeon was really someone who was made to be in the limelight.

she was easily suited for this ever changing, fast-paced stardom of being a part of one of the most influential groups that constantly raise the bar in music charts, award show ratings, and overall popularity.

nayeon was known for many things; her magnificent vocal power, flawless dancing, striking visuals, and the personality with other celebs that really gave her the title of “nation’s bestie” and you were glad that you had someone like her a part of the group in the first place.

but behind closed doors and away from the cameras, she was anything but that.

in the years that you’ve grown to know nayeon since debuting, you learn that she is a brat. she was loud and always complaining. she couldn’t do any basic living needs for her life because somehow she would find a way to mess up even the simplest of tasks in a shocking fashion. she needed to be constantly babied because of how easily scared she could get at times when you shared your dorm with her.

she was also known for getting brazenly vulgar with the other members. when some practices ended sour, she’d take it out on jihyo and jeongyeon, complaining to them on what the others needed to improve on. she wanted to be seen as perfect–no mistakes from her but for everyone else if something was out of line, she would be on your ass to make sure to get the routine right.

not only was she vulgar, she could be physical too. always getting touchy with the members especially when intoxicated. there was a point in time where she had to be tied down to a chair because her and sana couldn’t keep their hands and faces away from each other, putting their lips all over their bodies until you and a few other members got uncomfortable.

you wanted to feel uneasy when she acts like this when the group doesn’t have any scheduled activities going on–-but you were actually attracted to nayeon because of how she is.

you moved in with nayeon at the apartment for a little over two years now and even though some days were better than living in hell that is her, you started to grow a desire for the version of drunk nayeon being all over sana. the image of her straddling sana on the chair, putting sana’s hands behind her back, letting nayeon do all the work with her large, veiny hands holding her head in place as she leaves marks on her neck. the other members cheering or jeering for her dare as she almost got carried away towards the end.

you needed her to be like this for you, but it was definitely difficult on how you were going to pull it off.

—

you and the girls had embarked on a few tours locally already, but this was the second ever world tour that you guys ever did as a group and this time, more locations were added to give a little additional opportunities for the fans who saved up enough just to see you.

it was a blast at first, but then the repetitive routine of touring began to take a toll on the group as a whole. getting to the country, go to the hotel, sleep, wake up, head to the venue, rehearse, go back to the hotel, downtime, get something to eat, sleep again, wake up again, concert preparation, concert, relax back at the hotel and sleep. it was organized, efficient, but it started to be too much at a certain point during the tour.

luckily the label managed you and the others well by pairing you with another member to sleep with. that way it was to ensure a better overall state to keep the members in top condition both physically and emotionally.

you got paired with nayeon as your roommate, which definitely made the setup more easier once well into the tour, all you had to do was something to get her going.

unfortunately, you didn’t know that she wanted you all to herself ruined–and you were completely caught off guard by her desires.

—

the tour stop was paris, and you were trying to fight off the last effects of jet lag with the extra sleep you took advantage of. everything was going soundly in your slumber as you occupied one side of the bed.

nayeon however woke up to use the bathroom before making her way back to the bed at the sight of you peacefully sleeping away. laying belly down with the blanket just covering your lower half of the body, your well toned back in full display under your perfect wavy hair.

she shifts herself back onto the bed as you flip yourself over unknowingly, unveiling your boobs to her as you shift your head back into the pillow still clearly knocked out.

nayeon laid on her side as she grazes her fingers across your chiseled abs, before tracing the lower part of your jawline as she kept her eyes locked on your face that was still covered by your hair, lips parted perfectly as she circled your boobs.

eventually her finger trailed more and more downward, pulling the blanket from your lower half slightly to get more easy access, she eventually started feeling through your panties letting the fabric rub against your flesh as she went in circles for a few minutes.

then she started to get impatient. her intrusive thoughts were getting the best of her as she moved your panties to the side, running her two fingers across your folds yet again as you stifled a moan, still stirred in your sleep as nayeon slipped a finger inside you, finally releasing a gasp of air at the sensation as you slightly arched your back from the feeling.

she couldn’t just stop there as she continued to pump her finger inside you as you finally came around, looking at nayeon as she kept her pace going, biting her lip as you let out a more audible moan at her.

your senses come about as you flutter your eyes open still drowsy, trying to look down at what was happening down there, in shock as you moaned again in nayeon’s ear to get her to notice.

“nay, what the fu-”

she covered your mouth with her left hand as she continued to thrash you with her hands. something about her long fingers that almost mimicked your vibrator back at home—but this was nayeon’s hand you’re feeling and it was way different.

your moans were becoming strangled as you gripped her forearm with both of your hands, trying to pry off her hand against your mouth, but nayeon had a firm strength that may not looked like it, but her hands covered half of your face as she tried to keep your moans from being picked up by the neighboring hotel guests.

“nayeon, p-please, fuck so good…”

you were getting close by the downright fucking nayeon was giving you as you were able to pull her hand away for a second before she put her hand over your mouth again. she needed you to be like this for her and you were sinking deeper into the mattress by the second. it was near bliss as you felt the release in your body almost imminently—until nayeon’s phone rings, stopping her completely as she slips her three fingers out of you.

“hi jihyo! i just woke up, you’re ready to get breakfast?”

your eyes roll back to their normal position as you pick your head up to see nayeon off the bed, putting her shoes on before looking back at your sloppy state.

“what about y/n? oh she’s still sleeping she won’t be joining us i’m afraid.”

you couldn’t utter a response as she smiled at you laid barren on the bed, facing away from her as she smiled at her work as she headed out the door of your room.

you got taken advantage of by nayeon, but you wanted more of her and it was going to drive you crazy.

—

the mirrors of the makeup vanity reflected your distasteful expression, annoyed as if the you in the mirror was mocking you for what happened earlier this morning.

it was going to be a long day, but there was a concert to be performed so until then you tried your best to keep your sexual thoughts with nayeon at bay.

what made it even worse was the fact that you haven’t seen nayeon at all up until the performance. you didn’t see her backstage or in the green room—she was simply nowhere to be found. the only times you’ve seen her was on the way to the venue, during soundcheck, and during the concert. what she did before that after this morning was all but a mystery to you.

the concert went smoothly as expected. given the amount of extensive training and rehearsal prior you’ve become exceptionally good at putting on a facade for the fans. the songs and dance routines were more than just second nature and muscle memory as you and the girls performed flawlessly yet again. it wasn’t until the encore portion of the concert where hell started to break through again with her.

you were just minding your business waving off the fans as the song continued to play out, only to notice that nayeon had creeped up behind you draping her arm over you as you looked at her perfected fake smile. the fans wanted some service and nayeon was well known to give something to spoil them on twitter later—grinding on your side as you played along running your hand down your body making the fans go absolutely feral as nayeon dropped down, caressing your ass as she made her way back up.

you couldn’t say anything to her with all the loud noise so all you could do was hang your mouth open as she walked to the other side of the stage where jihyo and sana were, flaunting her ass at you as you looked back at the fans of what just happened.

—

once the concert was well done and over with, it was customary to throw a livestream for about an hour and a half before heading back to the hotel for more downtime before sleeping. while that was happening however, nayeon was leading you to a secluded spot outside the common area where everyone was located, still confused as to where she was taking you.

“nayeon, i still want to talk about a few things, so i hope this better be that.”

once the door closed to let darkness envelop the whole room, it was swift motion as nayeon’s lips found yours. pressing you against the door as you try to fight her aggressive dominance which makes you groan into her face. your brain is getting hazy again—just like this morning as her hands weave their way under your concert attire, moaning out loud once nayeon’s lips nipped at your neck suddenly.

before you could let your desires take control, you had one last bit of rationality as you pushed nayeon away for a second, feeling her half-lidded eyes stare at you as you two have a moment to collect your breath.

“fuck nayeon, i don’t get you sometimes.”

nayeon tilts her head, hand still pressed against the door next to your face, inching closer to you as you try to look away.

“what isn’t that you don’t get?”

“you do one thing, and you say another. your actions are so contradictive and it doesn’t make sense to me.”

“that should be the least of your problems y/n.”

you couldn’t help but scoff at nayeon’s last sentence there as the lights flicker on in the room that you two were in.

“we’re not done with this by the way, i hope you know that.”

there we go, you lit the tinderbox.

she walks out of the door back into the more lively room as you stand in the open, your cunt pulsating at what nayeon was going to do to you once you two got back to the hotel room.

maybe this was it–you finally set her off and now you were going to face the consequences.

—

when you and her eventually make it back to the hotel room, it was nothing like you were expecting. it was just a standard nighttime regimen as you tried to prepare yourself for nayeon by resisting the urge to sleep.

you lose that battle quite quickly than you’d hoped.

in the later hours of the night, you were sound asleep whilst nayeon looked over from her side of the bed. she was thinking about how good she was fucking you dumb before ignoring you for almost the entire day. she almost felt bad about doing it, but in that brief moment of clarity in the darkness, she needed to satisfy her needs yet again.

in a few quick moments, she straddles you, getting rid of the heat building within her as she took her top off before slowly running her hands up your waist to your breasts.

you barely nudged however, nayeon did like the fact that you slept like a log at times.

nayeon needed to double down her efforts in riling you up as she started to run her breath across your face and neck—before planting her lips on your pulse point that made you jolt slightly at the contact. nayeon pulls away for a second, her common sense telling her that there was a better way to handle this, but she ultimately shakes her head before diving back to your neck again.

luckily, you make it easier for nayeon to get access as you perk your head up, giving more space for nayeon to leave marks as she lathers her tongue and lips all over your sensitive point—making you moan a little bit more loudly in the process.

she then lays over you for a second while fondling your breasts, “you should be awake for this, too bad you might miss out.” nayeon says as she begins to make her way down your body, leaving kisses toward your sensitive area as you shift your back upward again, arching at the contact of her hands and lips.

pulling away the covers, she notices that you were weaning panties to sleep again, noticing a small spot that was stained right in the middle of your sensitive area as she couldn’t help but chuckle at you.

“what is it with you having wet dreams recently huh? looking all pretty for me just to ruin you.”

nayeon ran her hands up your midsection again, this time letting her nails dig into your skin as you slightly trembled at the feeling of her hands while she kissed the inner thigh of your leg—leaving another string of marks.

she then slides your panties down from your legs, taken aback as you reflexively spread your legs out wide open for her. nayeon was losing all sensibility as she inched ever so closer to your presenting arousal.

“opening your legs out wide even in your sleep baby? something tells me that you needed me to treat you well like this morning when you couldn’t say it earlier.”

nayeon runs her thumb over your folds as a string of slick could be seen when she swipes upward, looking at the palm of her hand as she feels your wetness internalizes on her fingertips.

“you want my fingers inside of you again? i’ll give you more than my fingers baby, all you have to do is just ask me next time.”

she was having a full on conversation with herself saying the most vile things, but she’d do it all over again anyway.

nayeon then runs her two fingers across your folds again, before slowly inserting them inside—earning a small grunt from you as you move a bit, still asleep as she continues to insert and draw back her fingers inside you.

“i love how my fingers just vanish inside your pussy.. you wanted me to fuck you like this while sleeping. god, it’s pathetic of you y/n.”

nayeon shifts herself back up next to you like this morning as she continues to relentlessly pummel your entrance as you put your arm over your face, almost trying to deny the pleasure that’s happening to you right now.

“still not enough to get you awake baby?” nayeon asks you as she pumps her hand inside you continuously, before slowing her pace a bit as you were still asleep at this point.

“maybe this will convince you to wake up.”

that was the only thing you heard as you started to gain consciousness.

nayeon’s movement in the dark was still swift, but she managed to mess up by slipping her hand and leg off the bed accidentally before gripping on your leg to stop her from falling.

she eventually pulls the cover off of you, uncovering your exposed region as nayeon nestles herself between your legs, face hovering over your pussy as she lifts your legs over your shoulders before giving your leaking core light kisses to tease you.

you feel the light touch of her lips on your entrance as you jolted at the contact, bucking your hips upward as your eyes shot open instantly.

before you could say anything, nayeon latches her lips and the surge of overwhelming pleasure clouds your mind as you groan out again, nayeon biting your clit to make you squeal out loud enough for the guests next door to hear.

“n-nayeon…”

“aww you’re finally awake? well good, cuz i’m cleaning up the mess you made right now.”

her hand reaches for your breast as she latches her left arm over your stomach, bracing you to the bed as she continues to wreck your swollen pussy with her mouth.

your grip on the sheets was hard enough to rip them to shreds as she went down on you as she pulls away for a second, your hips shaking as she strips away the super nice feeling of her tongue on your pussy.

“y-you’re such a bitch n-nay-”

“i hope this isn’t already too much for you because of how much your legs are shaking, you’re not ready for what i’m about to do next are ya?”

you tried to sit up in an attempt to defy nayeon’s rule over you, feeling her big hand in the center of your chest, pushing you back down as she grabs your neck, suffocating you slightly as you gasp for air.

“i know you like this y/n, your body is telling me otherwise.”

“i–i ngh-”

you tried your best to come up with a response as you tried to get her hand off your neck so that you could breathe a bit more. that only made nayeon choke you harder as you gasped for air in short, strained breaths.

“such a mess for me, fuck y/n i was really holding myself back for you all day because of this morning.”

nayeon loosens her grip on your neck as she runs her nails down your side as you tried to squirm away from her dominant presence. there was simply nowhere to run or hide, nayeon finally had you right where she wanted—a wreck and you liked it.

“are you ready for another go?”

nayeon stopped for a second to wait for your approval, the last sign of any saving grace or indication that you were genuinely uneasy with what she was doing.

it didn’t feel right for nayeon to act like this, but considering that every member has had their fruity moments already as it is from time to time, this was another echelon of an idea that was never toyed with—until tonight.

so without a second thought running through your mind, your heart was throbbing through your chest as you gave nayeon a simple signal of approval.

you nod.

you could feel nayeon’s smile in the bleak light that was breaking through the hotel window as she pounced forward at you on the bed, crashing her lips with yours as she forced your hands over your head, assuring that she still had absolute control over you.

she pulls away kissing your jaw as you felt the heat more warmly across your body, only for her to lean over your ear once again to whisper something.

“we’re gonna be at this all night, so you better be prepared, my pretty girl.”

you whimper as she repositions herself in the same state she was before you woke up as she dove back into your pussy once again with her mouth—this time not letting up in her pace whatsoever as you grab the back of her head to let her tongue get deeper into your walls.

she was aching with hunger, the only thing that you could do was prolong this new feeling of this version of nayeon for as long as you could as you shift your hips in every direction possible to get the most out of nayeon’s nose and tongue over your seeping entrance.

nayeon then ups the ante when she pulls away for a second, placing one of her arms over your stomach as she grabs a pillow to elevate your hips off of the mattress. you were still breathless as she slid the pillow under your lower back and got another pillow to stack on top of that.

you would think that nayeon would give you a quick breather of a break, but that automatically went away as she thrusts her tongue back into your pussy, this time adding three fingers in you as you yelp at the new feeling, lifting yourself off of the pillows only for nayeon to shove you back down, growling at your attempted action.

“you better not nudge baby, i still need to finish my meal.”

the only thing that you could respond with was a simple nod, biting your lip to stop yourself from letting out another moan as nayeon continued to pound you endlessly. it’s so new, your body is taking in new information, and your mind is getting clouded by nayeon’s fingers.

“fuck fuck f-fuck nay, w–wait—oh my god hngh-”

“don’t ask me to stop now, you’re taking me so well with your pussy being this loose for me hm?”

you moaned uncontrollably at this point from nayeon’s words, your mind was all but pure mush.

“please, s-so close ‘wanna cum-”

nayeon pulls her fingers out of you as she gives your pussy one longing lick, leaving you shuddering as she lapped you up like a popsicle.

“you ready?”

“please nay, i can take it.”

you couldn’t think straight, nayeon could only nod at your impresive resilience as she puts back in one finger inside you.

then another.

then her third finger.

and finally her fourth finger.

you writhe in the new sensation as she pumps all four fingers inside you back and forth, curling the first joints of each finger as you couldn’t recover for not even a second.

the intensity is built up as she picks up her pace yet again thrusting her hand, lips latching onto your clit as she keeps herself steady for the next few minutes or so.

you don’t know how long it’s been, you kept tossing and turning at nayeon not giving you any inkling to breathe as she held you down. scratching up your midsection as she bombarded your spent pussy with her spread fingers and swirling tongue ravishing you—your movements slowly subsiding as you felt the buildup in your stomach increasing.

“nayeon please– ‘m gonna please please please—”

you pleaded to cum for her at this point—eventually doing so as she let’s your lower body shake out of control, hand gripping your breast again and pinching your nipple as you uttered a literal cry as you tried your best to control your breathing (you couldn’t) as nayeon pulls away giving your cunt one more kiss before trailing upwards back to your face.

tears were literally seeping out as you calmed down, the urge of sleepiness coming back to you after being edged god knows how many times and nayeon was more proud of herself at you as she laid beside you. it was clearly shown that you were spent, but you were able to tap nayeon’s leg to get her attention before passing out in the end.

“thank you…”

“you did so well for me baby, i would do more but i think this is enough for now.” she says to you, raking your hair as your eyes fluttered closed, kissing your cheek as she caressed your boobs and abs again for a few more minutes before pulling the tossed cover from the bed over you and her, cuddling away.

#saiiidahyunee #twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #im nayeon #twice nayeon #nayeon x reader #twice smut #nayeon smut

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ichorai · 4 months

Text

stitch ; coriolanus snow.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; and he clearly wasn’t thinking straight, because his feet didn’t bring him back to his own filthy, dirty, rat-infested home. he brought himself to your winged estate, gardened and manicured and polished to perfection.

words ; 8.7k

themes ; angst, action, mild fluff

warnings / includes ; themes of classism, violence/injury/death/drug misuse, foul language, lucky being lucky, a lot of kisses, coryo's paranoia, he's much more toxic this chapter someone pls save reader (aka doomed by the narrative), i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

a/n ; thank you for all the support on this series so far! if i've planned this out right, there will be two more parts coming after this one!

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Considering you survived numerous explosions and a metal-pipe lodged in your abdomen, you weren’t looking all that bad. Though you were still badly aching, the injuries you had sustained during the bombings strayed away from your face, save for a few small cuts and bruises that would heal in no time. It made it easy for you to pretend like everything was okay as you donned a crisp, ironed, academy uniform. A new one, that wasn’t stained with your blood and the arena’s dust.

All the doctors had advised you to stay at the hospital to rest and recover. But with the games starting in mere hours… you couldn’t leave Wovey alone. You made a promise, and you intended to keep it.

After surprisingly little begging, your mother caved and signed the release forms for you, on the condition that you’d stay on a wheelchair for the entire duration of the games—or until you were fully healed. Whichever came first.

Coriolanus came early that morning, looking more tired than the last time you saw him, and promised your mother that he’d take care of you with a charming smile. He kissed your cheek, thumb brushing just beneath your jaw, before wheeling you off to the academy. The warm, fresh wind was refreshing against your face, billowing your hair to and fro.

“I gave her rat poison,” Coriolanus said as he pushed you along.

The suddenness of his words startled you into a flabbergasted silence. You stared straight ahead for a few moments, lips screwing to the side, trying your best to remain calm. Then, you gritted out, “What in Panem made you think that was a good idea? If Highbottom finds out… it’ll be over for you, Coryo. That’ll be grounds for worse than expulsion.”

“Lucy Gray has to win. She can’t—on her own. I had to give her something.” Coriolanus’ hands flexed on the handles of the wheelchair.

“I can’t cover for you forever, Coryo,” you whispered, words almost lost to the wind. But he heard.

He narrowed his pale eyes at the back of your head. “You won’t tell, will you?” There was a biting edge to his tone.

“You’re an idiot if you think I would.” You pressed a hand over your bandaged abdomen, obscured by the vibrant red fabric. “Besides—if you go down, I’d go down with you. With enough secrets of yours I bite down on… that makes me an accomplice, too.”

Lucky Flickerman’s eyes were wide as saucers when you showed up to the academy in a wheelchair. He fluttered over to you with a reporter following close behind him, shoving a camera into your face. You loved him, truly, but it was hard to tell apart the Lucky that appeared in front of cameras and the real Lucky your mother was best friends with. A myriad of questions fell from the mustached man’s mouth, and you only managed to answer one and a half of them before Sejanus appeared, and Lucky turned to him to ask him questions about his missing tribute.

With a roll of his eyes, Coriolanus pushed you down a ramp (one that hadn’t been there until just a few hours ago, when they heard news of you coming in a wheelchair), and settled you in front of a monitor with your name on it, in the middle of the rows of seats. His was by the very edge, much to both of your dismay.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he told you, enveloping one of your hands in both of his. He kneeled down in front of you so he’d be at eye-level.

You nodded, but pursed your lips. “Why did you tell me? About the…” You trailed off, worried someone would overhear. But he knew what you were talking about—the rat poison.

He tried his best to give you a genuine smile, nudging his knuckles beneath your chin. They felt cold against your skin—a stark contrast to what the wind outside had felt like. “It’s like you said, isn’t it? Enough secrets of mine you hoard, the more you’re tethered to me.”

You couldn’t quite tell if he was joking. Your lips parted, but no words left your tongue.

Dipping forward, he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Let’s hope this is over quickly.”

Let’s hope they all die quick, he might as well have said.

“Mmh,” you told him, sparing something akin to a smile. Though, it might’ve looked more like a grimace. Coriolanus’ head was far too preoccupied to notice. You felt sick, and glanced around at all the other students who were taking their seats. Lucky was making his way to the front to get some final touch-ups, flashing you an encouraging wink.

A minute later, he waved away the makeup artists and brandished a microphone from thin air. You almost rolled your eyes—his amateur magic tricks were certainly getting better and better.

“Okay, everyone, places! We’re about to go live! Just because we’re not hosting doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. Help me out here, alright? Don’t get lost behind your screens. No yawning, no gum-chewing—keep your chins down, heads up, shoulders back, people! And—do remember to smile. It’s why we have teeth.”

Lucky began grinning from ear-to-ear as a demonstration.

His teeth are far too white for his face, Coriolanus thought as he settled into his seat. A shade brighter and I’d surely go blind.

With a hand raised, Lucky began counting down with his fingers. He announced himself with his usual charming flair—and when the music started thrumming, low and ominous, he began wishing everyone a happy Hunger Games, before rushing off to stand behind all the students.

The large screen in the center of the theater lit up with a shot of the tributes walking into the arena. Several dozens of smaller screens surrounding it gave the students a wide plethora of different angles.

Your throat went dry upon seeing Wovey and Lucy Gray emerge from the entrance tunnel holding hands. They smiled at each other—one of the smaller cameras managed to catch it just perfectly—all soft and encouraging. Peacekeepers pushed the two onward with the barrels of their guns and they were forced to separate.

“Stand on your marks or you will be shot,” the announcement system buzzed.

Some of the tributes sobbed. Some of them hardened with determination.

The cameras panned around—until one of them landed on a hanging body, strung up by bloody ropes. Your eyes widened when you recognized him as Sejanus’ tribute.

Was he dead?

His chest gave a hunkering breath, though shallow and wheezy, and you dreaded to think about how much pain he must’ve been in.

“Guess we can all sleep better now knowing he’s off the streets,” Lucky said into the microphone. The audience of students behind you burst into sporadic cheers and bouts of laughter.

This must’ve been the last straw for Sejanus, as he got up from his desk and just about chucked the entire monitor across the theater. It fell against the stage with several clutters and thunks. Many of the students nearby flinched.

“YOU’RE MONSTERS!” he screamed, face wrought with anguish. “ALL OF YOU!”

With that, he stormed out. Perhaps if you weren’t confined to your wheelchair or in a great amount of pain you would’ve followed him, you thought. But maybe you were just making excuses for yourself.

Sejanus was a brave man with a rash head. You were neither brave nor rash.

Lucky began to count down again. And just as he reached one, a loud, buzzer-like sound rang through the arena. Echoed into the theater from the monitors.

The tributes began running every which way. You had your eyes fixed on Wovey. At first, she seemed to jaggedly step towards the center, where a selection of weapons were laid out. But she thought better of it once she saw all the commotion and scuttled back to the rows of seats as fast as she could. She climbed and climbed, and your chest was heavy with the idea of her falling, or of someone following her. Nobody did, thankfully.

There you go, sweetheart. Hide.

The last you saw of Wovey was the top of her small head before she disappeared behind the dusty seats. Good.

Then, you turned your attention to Lucy Gray, running around and screaming for Jessup. You briefly glanced back at Coriolanus, who was looking incredibly tense. His entire face seemed to be set into a deep frown.

What is she doing? he mouthed, mostly to himself. Run!

Immediately, buzzes rang out through the theater as tributes were slowly eliminated and disappointed students got up from their seats. You tried your best to avert your eyes from all the blood and gore. The screams, however, you couldn’t escape. A girl three seats away from you puked all over the floor, much to Lucky’s irritation.

To your relief, Lucy Gray managed to find Jessup amidst the chaos, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the hole in the ground—into the tunnels. A few angry tributes were following after them at a worryingly quick pace. Lucky made a rather smug comment about the gamemakers being prepared enough to have security cameras installed in every nook and cranny, even after the bombing “disruption”.

You let out a large breath you didn’t realize you were holding in when Lucy Gray managed to crawl into a room through a flap in the door, Jessup hot on her heels. The tributes cursed and yelled, but no one dared follow in after the two in fear of getting hurt while trying to get in.

“Thirteen tributes remain,” announced Lucky. He looked to you and gave you a wink. “Reaper still looming large on top of the charts while Coral and her pack try to make a play. Little Wovey has done an excellent job of scaling the broken columns and hiding beneath what’s left of the seats. Let’s hope we see her soon.”

You glanced at your monitor. There were options to send her food or water if need be. But not yet. You had to be resourceful with the donations you had.

“Six tributes gone in minutes. If they keep it up at this pace… we’re going to be out of here in no time.”

Many hours passed. It was incredibly quiet for a long time—save for Lucky moving off to the side to do some reporting of the weather. Some students even fell asleep by their monitors.

You were growing tired too, lids heavy with exhaustion and head bobbing up and down a few times. You tried to keep yourself awake, paranoid that something could happen to Wovey if you were to accidentally doze off. To your relief, you snapped awake when a hand rested on your shoulder and Coriolanus kneeled down beside you, offering a bottle of water. It felt wrong to be drinking at your leisure when the tributes were probably parched right now.

You took the bottle with a grateful mutter of thanks and took a hefty swig.

“How are you feeling? Your wounds okay?” His hand moved up to gently smooth over the back of your head.

“I think so,” you replied, before grimacing. “I don’t like watching this, Coryo. I never have.”

“I’m sorry,” he offered. “I can take you back, if you want. To the hospital.”

“No. I have to stay,” you protested. He seemed relieved at this, not keen on leaving any time soon.

With a curt nod, he gestured back to his own seat. “Just—let me know if you need anything.”

“You should focus on your tribute, Coriolanus,” you told him, brushing the back of your fingers along his jaw.

“My tribute didn’t have a metal pipe sticking out of her a day ago,” he whispered. “You’re priority number one. You always will be.”

“Well, I’m fine. Lucy Gray, however, is much more at risk,” you replied airily. “If my Wovey can’t win… I’d really rather see her alive.”

Those pale eyes of his searched yours.

“I love you,” he said. It was abrupt and sounded as if someone was strangling it out of him.

“I love you, too. Get back to your seat before Highbottom finds a way to get mad at you,” you told him. With a pointed jerk back to his seat, you heavily emphasized, “Again.”

With a squeeze of your shoulder (you tried your best not to grimace, since he pressed right against a large bruise on your collarbone), he rose back to full height and headed back to his monitor.

The arena was still silent, even an hour later. Just as you were beginning to seriously consider taking a nap, there came a rustling from the rubble. Lamina, the other district two tribute, rose from behind a large stone slab, and approached the hanging Marcus.

His blood from all the exposed wounds he’d acquired had slowly dripped down his body and formed a frighteningly sizable, semi-dried puddle down below. It was a wonder how he hadn’t already succumbed to his wounds.

Lamina climbed up the broken stone columns to make her way to him. There were several dried tear tracks on her face, and her nose was very red. Lamina stroked Marcus’ head, and he seemed to jerk alive with her touch. His chest rose and fell in a broken, staggering motion.

“Please…” he croaked. “Please…”

He dissolved into gentle sobs.

When Lamina raised her hatchet, you tore your eyes away and looked downward. There came a sick squelch as she struck him and the audience gasped. Lamina cut at his bonds and watched his body crumple down to the ground. Donations for Lamina began to steadily climb higher.

Pup Harrington, Lamina’s mentor, decided to take it upon himself to be the first one to send his tribute a drone with water. Dread settled the pit of your stomach when the drone buzzed in through the broken rooftop of the arena—but it didn’t seem to slow down. No, it only accelerated faster and faster the closer it got. Lamina gave a little shriek and ducked just in time—the drone crashed into the stone column and exploded into a thousand metal parts. The glass water bottle fell down below and shattered by Marcus’ now-dead body.

How were you supposed to send Wovey water now? Perhaps you’d send her food instead—that way, it wouldn’t shatter and go to waste if it hit anything. You scrolled through the options on your monitor. Apples would be a good choice. Plenty of water in them. But you held back—Wovey might’ve been asleep underneath those seats.

A few more hours passed by, slipping well into nightfall. You took a vial of prescribed morphling from your bag and downed it in one go. You could feel it buzzing through your system almost immediately, numbing the sting of your still-healing wounds. It just so happened that Highbottom swept down the steps then, eyeing you behind those spectacles of his. You shuddered and leaned your head down onto the table. The drugs were making you incredibly sleepy.

Highbottom stopped just behind Coriolanus. “You can’t save her by watching,” he murmured to his most loathsome student. “What do you want from that girl?”

“Nothing,” the blonde gritted out. “I want her to live.”

“Mmh. And the Plinth Prize would be a happy coincidence, I suppose.”

Coriolanus’ eyes squinted at nothing in particular. “I believe I’d be entitled to it.”

“Of course you do,” Highbottom retorted, tone heavy with condescension. “And who do you think makes the final decision for the prize you so covet, Mr. Snow? Wake up. Even if Lucy Gray Baird somehow wins it all, I will do everything in my power to make sure that you don’t see a single dime. So… ask yourself this: how much do you care if she lives now?”

Coriolanus was gripping his hands into fists so tight that they turned a ghostly-white.

“And I know… if the young and talented Y/N wins that prize… it’ll go straight to you. Isn’t that right?” Highbottom’s lips twitched in amusement when Coriolanus stiffened. “So it seems that neither of you will be seeing that prize, Mr. Snow.”

His jaw twitched, and he snapped his head to the scowling dean. “You can’t punish them because of me. That’s not fair. Y/N doesn’t deserve that.”

Highbottom let out a gruff laugh, quiet enough for nobody to notice. Mostly everyone had gone home or was asleep, anyway. “It’s not like Y/N would have won anyway—not with that quiet little runt. Kid was doomed from the very start. Take a good look in front of you, boy. Take a look at those tributes—and then you come and tell me what’s fair.”

The very last word was practically spat at him. The dean turned on his heel and marched off.

Still, hours passed by silently. Lucky was clearly growing agitated with the fact that things were moving so slowly. He’d already had to cancel two dinner appointments.

When Volumnia Gaul stepped into the academy, a dark cloak draped over her shoulders, you were already half-awake. She stood beside you menacingly, and you startled into full alert with a small noise of surprise, the bright blue of one of her eyes boring right into you. She said your name then, all low and elongated. You could barely suppress the shiver that ran down your spine. Still groggy, your blurry peripheral vision told you that practically every one had retired for the night. Save for a few straggler students and, of course, Coryo. You noticed, with muted interest, that every single screen was frozen on an image of the Panem crest, rather than the security camera footage inside the arena.

“I can smell the morphling on you,” she muttered, brows raised. “You should go home. Get some rest. Change those bandages of yours.”

You glanced down at your abdomen—a grimace made its way onto your face when you noticed that your uniform (new, mind you), was stained with a fresh bout of blood. You’d bled through your bandages. With a frown, you uneasily swallowed. It didn’t seem like Dr. Gaul was going to accept no for an answer.

“I, uh—” She noticed the way you began to angle yourself to Coriolanus. He’d fallen asleep by his monitor, in a similar fashion to you.

Her mouth pursed in mock-sympathy. “Coriolanus wants to stay. Watch over his songbird. I suggest you find someone else to wheel you back home.”

Your lips parted in surprise. A part of you wanted to protest, but you were far too tired to argue. “I can get myself home,” you told her. “Good night, Dr. Gaul.”

A creaky, amused titter fell from her throat. “Your little one is good at hiding. A shame she’s not going to make it.”

A wave of nausea rolled over you. You determinedly fixed your gaze on the ground and began to push yourself out of the academy. Volumnia watched you go with narrowed eyes. Once she was sure you were gone, she made her way to Coriolanus.

The boy had a job to do.

Bobbin’s blood was still all over his hands. Dried, now. Dark with time. Dr. Gaul stitched up the gash on his left shoulder blade—he wondered if you had been in this much pain when you woke up in the hospital. But it was different, because he was slashed by a little boy, and you fell onto a metal pipe. Coriolanus wasn’t sure which one was better.

Not that it was a competition. It was all Sejanus’ fault anyway, he concluded.

He had wanted to sprinkle bread crumbs on his dead tribute’s body. What a waste.

Once Dr. Gaul had sent him off back home with his wound tightly bound, he staggered out with a heavy chest and tear-stained cheeks.

And he clearly wasn’t thinking straight, because his feet didn’t bring him back to his own filthy, dirty, rat-infested home. He brought himself to your winged estate, gardened and manicured and polished to perfection.

This should be mine, he thought. I should have this. I deserve this.

And then, another irrational thought crossed his mind as he rang the doorbell.

It will be mine.

The doors swung open—which mildly surprised him, considering it was very late at night—and your mother peeked her head out. She eyed him with part confusion, part surprise. Then, she caught sight of the blood on his hands. The door widened to let him through.

Almost immediately when he stepped in, your mother roped him into a warm embrace. He inhaled and choked on air. And then, he dissolved into a fit of wracking sobs. She crooned and stroked her hand along the back of his head.

“What’s this, Coriolanus? Whose blood is this?”

He hiccuped and drew in a staggered breath. “It’s… mine. I got into a fight with a classmate about the Games. It got violent and bloody—Dr. Gaul fixed me up.” He emphasized a wince and gestured to the wound on his shoulder. He let your mother fuss over him, demanding to take a look at the gash. Reluctant, he unbuttoned his uniform again to let her see.

It seemed the commotion was enough to wake you up, because you had limped to the top of the grand staircase with sleepy eyes and messy hair.

Once your mother caught sight of you out of bed, she pulled away from Coriolanus to chastise you, but her words fell on deaf ears. You mumbled out your boyfriend’s name in confusion, before leaning heavily against the bannister to slowly step down, wincing with the movement.

Coriolanus was quick to move upstairs, meeting you near the top, as you had only managed to descend a handful while he jogged to you. He cupped your face first, smoothing his thumbs over your jaw the way he always did. And when you spread your arms, he just about fell into you, his nose dropping down to the junction between your neck and your shoulder. His entire form trembled with his cries, muffled into your skin.

It was as if he’d been reduced to a child all over again. Eating paste, salty with his tears of hunger.

“Coryo,” you whispered, gripping at his waist. “Coryo, please tell me what’s going on. You’re worrying me.”

He hesitantly withdrew his damp face away from your neck. “Can we… talk privately?”

With pursed lips, you looked down to your mother at the bottom of the staircase.

She cleared her throat tiredly. “I’ll leave you two be. But no funny business, understand? Y/N needs to recover.”

With a serious stare in Coriolanus’ direction, she turned and marched off to the Northern wing.

“Come on,” you told him. “Let’s go to my room.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, rubbing the space between his brows. His arm wrapped over your waist to help you up the few steps. “It’s so late, and I just barged in and interrupted your sleep—”

“Coryo, you’re covered in blood. Sleep is the last thing on my mind.”

Once in your room, you shut the door and leaned against it. Coriolanus made his way to your bed and sat on it, face buried into his hands.

“Does this have something to do with Dr. Gaul?” you asked, watching him with keen eyes.

His head snapped up and he regarded you curiously. “How’d you know?”

“She told me to leave. And all the screens were… frozen.” With slow steps, you limped across your room to sit right beside him. “Whose blood is that?”

Coriolanus was silent for a long while. So long that you wondered if he even heard your question at all.

“Don’t—don’t hate me. I need you.”

“I won’t hate you. I love you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Stop it, Coryo. You don’t get to decide whether I l—”

“It was Bobbin.” He effectively cut you off, rendering you speechless. “I killed him.”

You stared at him as if he’d grown another head. “The… the district eight boy?” With each passing second, your eyes grew larger and—wetter. Coriolanus had to turn away. “You were in the arena? Dr. Gaul made you… oh, Coryo.”

“Sejanus went in to see his friend.” The last word was sneered out in a rather demeaning manner. “The tributes started attacking us. I… I hit Bobbin with a rock.”

He left out the gorey details. How he kept bashing Bobbin’s head in even after his body stopped twitching. How it felt… powerful.

“It was self defense, then,” you murmured, drawing closer to brush your lips against his shoulder, just above his sutures.

It was, at first. And then it… wasn’t. Coriolanus pursed his lips.

“Bobbin… he was Wovey’s friend, I think.” Your voice wavered, and you blinked away the tears that welled up in your eyes. “I hope she’s okay.”

Coriolanus said nothing as he frowned. He didn’t like how much you cared for her, no matter how much of a hypocrite that made him. It was like Highbottom said… the kid was doomed from the very beginning.

“Are you okay?” you asked him, voice as soft as silk.

“I don’t…”

“It’s okay if you’re not. I’ll be here for you.”

“You’re too good,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re always just so… good. How do you do it?”

There was a considerable silence before you reached over to take his chin between your fingers and force him to look at you. “I’m just trying my best. And you are, too. Don’t discredit yourself, Coriolanus. You’re good for me. You always will be.”

His pale eyes flickered. Then, he kissed you. Slow and soft, begging for more but—you pulled away with a hum before he could press further against you.

A distinct coldness fell over his expression. “You can’t tell anyone what I told you. About Bobbin.”

You studied him for a few seconds. Watched the way he folded into himself with such caution. Compartmentalize and shield the most ugly parts of himself away from you. It was a defense mechanism of sorts. You knew it all too well, and narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why do you always think that I’ll go about and tell the world everything you say to me? Do you not trust me?”

He sucked in a shuddering breath. “I do. I do, of course I do. You just—you know everything there is to know. You can destroy me completely, and it’ll be my fault because I let you in—because I let myself fall in love with you.”

Your features twisted into one of shock. “Is that what you think? That I’m seeking to destroy you? Bring you down? What—Coriolanus, why would I do that? Do you hear yourself? How many times do I have to say that I love you until you realize that I mean it?”

“You can love me and still betray me. They’re not mutually exclusive.” There was a terse silence that stretched thick between the two of you like taffy. His brows furrowed together and he stared angrily down at the ground as he frustratedly worked his jaw. “I’m not saying you will betray me. I’m saying you could. And that… that terrifies me.”

“I won’t. You said it yourself, remember? I’m tethered to you. I’m an accomplice—I know too much,” you said, exasperated. “But there is nothing I want to take from you. I gain nothing from stabbing you in the back. I just—I want for us to be a normal fucking couple!”

Coriolanus hung his head. With another sharp breath, he nodded several times, as if he was snapping himself out of his own thoughts. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I trust you. I’m sorry.”

When your countenance softened inexplicably, Coriolanus let himself slowly tear his walls of paranoia back down. His hands returned to you then, far more hesitantly cradling your face, gripping your hips, squeezing your thighs as he kissed you. It was familiar and comforting, yet simultaneously all too much.

“Will you stay until I fall asleep?” you panted into the kiss, trying to break away as your lungs screamed for air. “I miss you. It’s been so long since we just… existed alone together.”

He nodded—because how could he say no to you?—and helped you settle back onto the bed. Let you hold onto him, let you trace mindless shapes into his arm. Watched as your eyes fluttered shut and you fell back into what looked like a restful sleep. Envy curled within the confines of his chest. Sleep graced you so easily. Why did everything come to you so easily?

Nonetheless, he dipped forward to brush his lips against your temple, before gingerly pulling away. You stirred with the jostling, but stayed deep asleep. With that, Coriolanus made his way out of your room, clicking the door shut as softly as he could, and descended down the stairs. He left your house with a heavy chest and a throbbing shoulder.

Early the next morning, your mother came to the academy with you to watch the end of the Hunger Games—and to be there for moral support, she’d told you. She wheeled you in with a bright smile, greeting all the staring students with a friendly confidence. Once she brought you in front of the very same monitor as yesterday, she kissed the top of your head before flitting away to speak with Lucky, who was all smiles and charm. You overheard him saying that he was confident the games would come to a close soon. Your mother said something in reply, but their voices were drowned out by the swell of students entering the theater.

Coriolanus walked in only a few minutes after you, Tigris on his arm. The two of them made their way to you—Coryo was stone-faced, looking more tired than ever. Tigris appeared more worried than anything, but she was just about glowing in her new pink dress, all sharp angles and pristine fabric.

“You look beautiful,” you told her genuinely once she drew closer to you and took both your hands in hers. “I love your outfit. The color suits you.”

“Thank you,” she replied, flushing a pleased rouge hue. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been impaled by a metal pipe,” you told her with a slight grimace. “But, you know… no better way to fix that than to watch children kill themselves through a screen.”

The two cousins laughed dryly at your sarcasm. Tigris then enthusiastically told you that the dress she was making for you was ready—and you grinned and told her you were incredibly excited to come see it. With that, she nodded and left to take her seat amongst the stands, wishing the two of you good luck.

Once she was gone, Coriolanus reached out to grasp your shoulder. Your talk with him last night plagued him for hours and hours when he should’ve been asleep.

“Did you sleep well?” you asked him, leaning into his touch when he brushed his knuckles against your cheek. “You look tired, Coryo.”

A wry smile. “Slept like a baby.”

It was a lie, and you knew it. You frown-smiled at him nonetheless.

He bent at the waist, tilted your face up to meet his, and kissed you square on the lips. Some of the students in the stand wolf-whistled, and it felt distinctly like Coriolanus was putting on a show for them, and for the cameras. And you were, well—you were an unwilling actor.

When he pulled away, he smiled at you and gestured to his seat in the corner. “Whatever happens, I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” you murmured. “Likewise.”

Coriolanus found himself wondering if you were hiding something from him. Why did it feel like you were drawing yourself away? Were you planning on sabotaging him?

Before he could dwell on it anymore, you gently nudged him off, as Lucky was beginning his opening remarks once again. He talked about the mystery behind Bobbin’s death (sending a cold tremor up Coriolanus’ spine), but moved on rather quickly to the stats board.

The few remaining mentors settled down and the rest of the students in the stands quieted to watch the games continue.

Not fifteen minutes later, commotion started brewing between Jessup and Lucy Gray. It was hisses and twitches from the boy at first, but then grew into explosive anger and panicked aggressiveness. Frightened, Lucy Gray began to doggedly run away from her friend, crawling out of the rubble-strewn tunnels and back into the main arena.

“Something’s wrong,” Lysistrata, Jesssup’s mentor, said. “He wouldn’t turn on her like this.”

You narrowed your eyes at the hazy screen. There seemed to be foam collecting at the corners of Jessup’s mouth as he chased after Lucy Gray, demanding to know what she’s done to him. The hazy memory of Lucy Gray at the zoo mentioning a bat bite resurfaced into your mind.

“It’s rabies,” you told the two. “The foam in his mouth. He’s got rabies—the bat bite in the train, remember?”

Coriolanus and Lysistrata’s eyes both widened.

“The same district folding in on itself!” Lucky announced into the microphone, and began rattling off some more unnecessary commentary.

“Send him water!” Coryo demanded Lyssie.

“What?” she asked, watching in horror as her tribute tried to make a grab for Lucy Gray, but she ducked away just in time.

Impatient, Coriolanus stood up and leaned over her desk with gritted teeth. “Remember the posters in the war? Rabies—it makes you afraid of water. Send him a drone!”

Lyssie’s mouth opened and closed. “That’ll scare him!”

“Yes,” he said, tapping on her monitor. “It’ll get him away from her. Jessup is done. And you’re the only one that can get it right to him.”

With a tight frown, Lysistrata reached forward to order a water drone. Lucky was preening with all the action.

“Thank you,” Coriolanus breathed out once her order processed through.

“Nothing to be proud of,” she said, scowling at the screen.

Lucy Gray was begging for her friend to snap out of it as she climbed up a fallen stone pillar, and screamed when a water drone came whizzing right past her ear, crashing into Jessup. Glass went flying every which way. The water had done its job scaring him—Jessup yelled and tittered with the sudden force. He fell backward and toppled right off the pillar. His body made a sickening crack as it came in contact with the ground. The audience exploded into cheers.

Horrified, Lucy Gray slid down the pillar after her barely-alive friend, hands shaking. A terrible sense of guilt washed over you.

“Jessup?” she asked, shaking his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere. Okay? You watched over me, now I’m watching over you. Sleep now, Jessup. Sleep.”

Jessup’s death was slow and painful. Lyssie sent a bitter glance towards Coriolanus, before storming off.

But the horrors weren’t yet over for Lucy Gray—Coral and her pack appeared from behind a large pile of rubble, cornering her like coyotes would a lamb. They sneered and jeered at her.

You turned to look at Coriolanus, seeing his face crumple with desperation. His eyes flickered to you for a brief moment.

“Use your donations!” you called over. “She won’t fight, Coryo. You know that!”

With a frantic nod, Coriolanus snapped his gaze back to his monitor, and hurriedly pressed down on eight drones of water for his tribute.

“Mentors allying together in such troubling times!” Lucky exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “Will it be enough to save the songbird?”

The little machines whirred into the arena at alarming high speeds, and crashed into the unassuming tributes surrounding Lucy Gray. She ducked and covered her head with shaking hands as water and glass and metal parts flew every which way.

“Hey!” one of the mentors exclaimed. “You can’t attack the tributes!”

“I’m just sending water,” Coriolanus retorted back, looking extremely relieved. Then, he looked back at you, and mouthed, thank you.

Taking advantage of the knocked down tributes, Lucy Gray rushed forward, grabbed a glass of water that remained miraculously unshattered, and ran off to hide behind another fallen pillar. You remembered that Coriolanus had given her rat poison—a part of you wanted her to use it to survive, and the other part of you hoped she wouldn’t ever touch it in fear of people finding out about Coriolanus cheating. That would spell the end of him.

Coral and her pack roused with groans and aches. They moaned about losing Lucy Gray, before setting their sights on Lamina and pursuing after her. It was a shame to watch her go, you thought, remembering the kindness she did for Marcus. She was stabbed in the abdomen (reminding you of your own bound bandages), and fell into a crumpled heap beside her district-mate.

While they were all busy going after her, one of the smaller screens caught Lucy Gray appearing back from behind the rubble, placing the full water bottle back on the ground. She hurriedly reached over to dump water out of any of the other bottles that hadn’t broken.

Lucy Gray managed to escape Coral just as she began to notice what she was doing, darting up some broken stairs and into a duct, latching it shut so they wouldn’t be able to follow her in. Lucky made a sullen comment about how there were no cameras set up inside there.

Coral and the pack retreated back down to survey all the water Lucy Gray had dumped out, save for the one single bottle. You wondered if said bottle was filled with rat poison, by any chance.

Since you had your gaze focused on one of the smaller screens, you hadn’t even noticed little Wovey emerging from a row of seats not too far away from where Lucy Gray was hiding inside the duct.

Your eyes frantically turned to the main screen when one of the pack members exclaimed, “It’s Wovey!”

“No, no…” you muttered, leaning forward in your wheelchair, ignoring the painful sting in your side. Wovey was quick to disappear back under the seats, scampering between rows and small gaps under fallen rocks so that they couldn’t follow after her. Twisted relief clawed at your chest and you heaved for breath when they muttered defeat and decided to go back down to the ground. The group began to dissolve into an argument, which thankfully kept them otherwise occupied from going back to hunt after other tributes. To none of your surprise, Coral ended up stabbing Mizzen right in the chest.

“And who do we have here?” said Lucky when the main screen changed to show a coughing girl emerging from her hiding place. “Ah! It’s Ill Dill. Tuberculosis on legs.”

Dill staggered towards the water bottle. Uncapped it and drank a few small mouthfuls. She coughed and wheezed. Lied down slowly, chest still rattling with coughs. It had to be poisoned, you concluded. To die right after taking that drink… it was far too much of a coincidence. Lucy Gray must have used the poison. You didn’t dare chance a glance back at Coriolanus, afraid you’d see cruel victory in his eyes.

Reaper ran out a minute later, calling out for Dill as he rushed to her. “Dill? Hey, what happened? Dill! Dill, wake up!”

And when he realized his district-mate was dead… Reaper let out a guttural scream. It echoed and ricocheted around the arena for everyone to hear. You frowned and tucked your arms closer to your sides.

To your surprise, Reaper began to move the dead tributes’ bodies to where Marcus and Lamina were. He laid each of them carefully beside one another. Fixed their positions and brushed the dirt away from their face. Dill first, then Mizzen. Then Bobbin by the entrance—to which none of the other mentors knew who killed except Coriolanus and… you.

Reaper tore down the long Panem flag hanging from the arena’s wall. The students burst into boos and derogatory yells. He dragged it over to the makeshift morgue and draped the dusty fabric over the corpses.

There was a lump in your throat as you watched him stand over the bodies he had so meticulously arranged. He gave the tributes one last shred of dignity when the Capitol—you included—had so monstrously stripped every bit of it away. You twisted in your chair to look at your mother in the stands. She had a hand over her mouth as she watched on, looking every bit as choked up as you.

Reaper gazed straight into one of the cameras and spread his arms. “Are you gonna punish me now?” he asked. “ARE YOU GOING TO PUNISH ME N—”

His yells were suddenly cut off by a breaking news announcement. They still echoed about the theater, and you still could hear Reaper’s strong voice in your head.

Volumnia Gaul sat stiff and menacing on the large screen, her single, beady blue eye seemingly ablaze with a cold fury.

“Capitol citizens, I’m afraid I must interrupt our Games to announce a tragic loss. One that affects us all. Felix Ravinstill, son of our beloved president, has this morning succumbed to his injuries sustained in the rebel bombing.” The screen changed to display a horrifyingly graphic image of Felix’s dead body covered in bruises and unhealed gashes. This was met with gasps and cries from the crowd. “Out there in the districts… they will be celebrating this young boy’s death as a triumph. I will not allow my Games to give our enemy such victory. I swear to you, here and now, before the sun goes down tonight, a rainbow of destruction will engulf our arena. Even if it means there’s to be no victor in these Games!”

Scandalized murmurs spread throughout the theater.

Your lips parted with shock. What was the point in having the Hunger Games without a victor? You turned to look at Coriolanus, who was looking every bit as distraught as you.

A rainbow of destruction, Gaul had said. He knew exactly what that meant. With a tight expression, he sat up and ran out of the theater. You watched him go with utter confusion, calling out his name, but your voice was drowned out over the sea of upset students.

Where was he going? To plea his case with Dr. Gaul or Highbottom? Or… no, he’d told you about the snake muttations Gaul had in her lab—while you were drowsy and delirious with pain, but you could remember it faintly—how they were rainbow in color, fast as lightning as they struck down Clemmie. Did that mean those snakes were going to be set loose in the arena?

Your heart skipped a beat. Wovey could hide from the other tributes, sure, but small, fast, and most likely deadly snakes? She wouldn’t stand a chance.

And what of Lucy Gray? What was Coriolanus planning on doing for her?

Fifteen minutes later, Coriolanus came running back in, sweaty and breathless. Just in time, because Coral and her pack were beginning to close in on Lucy Gray, stabbing spears through the vent flap. One of the boys down below the ducts began to cough and sputter, not in an unsimilar fashion to Dill, before collapsing down to the ground with a shudder, blood pouring out of his nose.

Rat poison. You were sure of it.

They stabbed at the duct some more until it buckled and broke under her weight, and she came crashing down. Hurriedly, Lucy Gray stumbled up to her feet, climbed over the dead body, and ran as fast as she could away from Coral. They were hot on her tail. Everyone watched with bated breath.

And then—the loud whirring of a carrier came descending down the center of the arena. A large, blackened cylindrical tank was being lowered into the center through the broken rooftop. You let out a shaky breath of petrification. Inside must’ve been the snake muttations Coriolanus told you about.

The few remaining tributes stared at the tank with wide eyes, too stunned to move.

“I’d wager that that is going to be no good.” Lucky smiled as he stared at the screen. “But wouldn’t it be fun if it was candy?”

Both the arena and the theater lapsed into utter silence.

Until—until little Wovey peered her head up from the seats. She’s so frail, was your first thought. Slowly, she began to climb out of the rows and hopped down broken pieces of stone to get back to the ground.

“Wovey—” you found yourself saying aloud. Many eyes drew to you. “No, no, no…”

You watched as the little girl walked towards the large black tank with wide eyes. She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her grimy hand. Reaper was warning Wovey to keep away, but the little girl was still moving closer.

“Is it over?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Can we go home? Please…”

“Fuck! Fu—shit, fuck! No, Wovey!” you frantically yelled as if she could hear you. Desperate to get her to stop going towards the tank, you looked down at your monitor.

Not many donations…

But enough to send a drone.

Maybe if you sent food—it’d distract her. Keep her away.

And so you began placing an order for a food drone, much to Lucky’s commentary delight. With shaking hands, you pressed confirm.

But there was one thing you hadn’t considered.

You hadn’t considered the drone coming in from directly in front of Wovey—with the tank right in its way. A whizz, a blur of silver metal, and murmurs of shock from the crowd. The machine drove itself against the glass tank and broke apart into a thousand pieces. Small red apples went flying every which way. Wovey stopped in her tracks for a moment.

It was a temporary relief.

A crack formed in the tank. And then—another splinter within the glass. And another, and another, and another. They formed a terrible sort of spider web.

“No,” you whispered, lips quivering. It was all your fault. “Oh, no.”

With that, the glass gave way to its fractures, and burst apart in a cascade of glittering shards. The snakes came tumbling out just as Dr. Gaul had said: a rainbow of destruction. They took down Wovey first as she screamed, slithering over her small body until you saw no part of her left. You had fallen silent, but your entire body ached as you violently shut your eyes, eliciting a hot tear to streak down your cheek.

“Not candy! Down goes Wovey!” Lucky announced, though he winced with an apologetic glance in your direction. “Sorry, Y/N.”

The rest of the snakes were quick to pick off Coral’s pack, and then Coral herself, who cried out that all those lives she took… they couldn’t have been for nothing.

They slithered around Reaper, who sat strongly by the pile of bodies he had arranged. He died alongside them as the serpents closed around his throat.

And that just left Lucy Gray.

“All colors lead to Gray!” Lucky announced, overly pleased with his wording.

Coriolanus smiled, victorious. “She’s—she’s won. It’s over. She’s won! Let her out!”

“Afraid that’s not your call to make, Mr. Snow,” said Lucky. He pointed over to Dr. Gaul, who was watching from the theater’s stands with crossed arms.

The students all murmured and gasped. Coriolanus looked around helplessly.

“Dr. Gaul, she’s won!” he asserted. “It’s over, let her out!”

Volumnia stared at the blonde boy with narrowed eyes, but said nothing.

And then… Lucy Gray began to sing as the snakes slithered their way to her. They coiled over her ankles and into the ruffles of her dress. Over her arms and around her stomach. Along her back and draped on her shoulders. She sang and sang, her voice strong despite the itchy dryness in her throat.

“Why aren’t they attacking her?” Festus Creed demanded.

Coriolanus set his jaw. “Must be the singing. It’s calming them.”

“She can’t sing forever,” he replied with an upturned nose.

Everyone in the audience watched, enraptured, as Lucy Gray sang her heart out, wrapped in iridescent snakes. You let out a shaky exhale, and another tear slipped down your face. Watching Wovey go was one thing—you didn’t want to watch Lucy Gray die, as well.

Anger rose in your throat.

You turned your wheelchair away from the screen—away from your damned monitor. It was your fault Wovey was dead. You wouldn’t watch Lucy Gray die, too.

“LET HER OUT!” you screamed at Dr. Gaul. Coriolanus flinched and stared at you with wonder, along with the rest of the student body. You bared your teeth in a pained snarl, and you let the tears freely fall. They were scalding against your skin, along with the multiple cameras that had turned right to you. “She won. Who’s going to donate to your Games next year if they know you’ll just kill their victor off? Let her out, Gaul!”

“Dr. Gaul, please,” Coriolanus pleaded, nodding at your words. ��Let her out.”

“Get her out!” Tigris chimed along. Your mother voiced the same sentiment a second later, her face shining at you with pride.

One by one, students began yelling at Dr. Gaul to get Lucy Gray out of the arena until practically everyone was chanting along.

“Nobody’s going to watch your Games without a victor!” Snow told her over the swell of voices.

With a sharp scowl, she raised her hand. Almost immediately, the crowd fell into silence.

“Get her out,” she quietly grumbled to one of her assistants.

Lucky clapped and announced excitedly, “She’s won! Lucy Gray has won! Coriolanus Snow is the winner of the 10th annual Hunger Games!”

Victory music began playing throughout the theater—trumpets and drums and bells echoing into his ears as the students rushed down from their seats to congratulate him. Shaking his hand, slapping at his back, ruffling his hair. Tigris was at the front of it all, smiling at him so wide it was a wonder her face didn’t split into two. She wrapped him into a warm hug and he held her tight, laughing into her shoulder as the weight of realization fell against him.

He’d won.

Once he pulled away from his cousin, he pushed through the packed crowd to get to you. You were on your feet already, though your weight was leaning heavily against one of the handles of your wheelchair. You were positively overwhelmed by all the commotion around you.

He held your face with both his hands and kissed you in front of everyone. The cheers grew louder and louder, and Snow pulled away smiling wider than he ever remembered smiling before.

But when he looked at you again—truly looked at you—there were still tears spilling from your eyes. They didn’t look quite like tears of joy, either.

“She was thirteen,” you sobbed, curling against him. “Coryo, she was thirteen. It was my fault. My fault.”

Caught up in his own victory, he’d very nearly forgotten who you were talking about. It took him another second to realize that you were crying over Wovey. Irritation clawed at his chest and he frowned at you. You should’ve been congratulating him—not thinking about your silly dead tribute. What were you expecting? Hadn’t you known this was coming?

Nonetheless, he held you to his chest with empty words of comfort murmured into your ears, rubbing a palm up and down your back in a placating manner. He kissed your forehead and the crowd swooned with the romance of it all.

You jerked away from Coriolanus when you felt a distinct pain shoot up your stomach. You looked down, noting the darker red blotch in your uniform.

It seemed like you’d bled through your bandages again.

taglist: @nicksolemnlyswears, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @marjorieisreading, @emlovesya, @dallaav, @sillyskeletonpatrolghost, @sunshine-stars-12, @intoomanyfandom-s, @eclipixels, @unclecrunkle, @wotcherpeak, @dangelnleif, @freyafriggafrey, @scaraslover, @tiaamberxx, @dracuno, @c-losur3, @ashy-kit, @innercreationflower, @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @mymadokamagica, @24kmar, @cowboylikerhian, @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo, @curled-hair-red-lips, @har-rison-s, @aoi-targaryen

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow x you #hunger games fanfiction #coriolanus snow drabbles #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #young!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow smut

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ourautumn86 · 1 year

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secret for a secret

fedra officer! ellie williams x dealer and teacher! reader

sypnosis; after being caught by a fedra officer, your perfect façade could fall apart, unless you end up working with her…

cw; drugs, violence, drug use and dealing, guns, threats, teasing, constant bickering, fighting, kissing, fingering, oral sex (r receiving), scissoring, dom! ellie, sub! reader, kinda hate sex??, needy sex, lotsss of praising, no use of y/n but pet names like princess, pretty girl, baby…, dirty talking, multiple orgasms, cum eating… minors dni!!! +18 content!

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡ either ways, i hope y’all like it. <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

—

You were fucked, absolutely and incredibly fucked.

“Hands up.” your heart was fucking thumping, and your hands were soaked in sweat. Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

You showed the police officer your hands, your eyes squinting under the light of her pistol.

“Don’t move.” she ordered, and you swallowed harshly when she stepped closer.

You groaned when she harshly turned you around, pushed you up against the wall and tugged on your wrists, the metal of her cuffs digging on your skin.

You’re fucked.

“Let’s see what we have here.” she mutters as she starts rummaging through your pockets. She hummed and smirked when her fingers met the little baggy, taking it out to inspect it.

“Fuck.” you whisper…, pressing the back of your forehead against the side of the building in which you had been pinned.

“Illegal dealing and possession of drugs. You really are a bad girl, huh?” she mocked you and you groaned.

“Look please… I can’t have anybody know about this. It would ruin my career.” you begged, turning around, and you almost crumbled underneath her big green eyes. She was beautiful, breathtaking… An angel that had come to punish you for your sins.

“Well maybe you should’ve thought it through before getting into this shit, don’t you think so pretty girl?” your breath got punched out of your lungs when she muttered, so close that you could see the beautiful freckles on her skin.

“I’m a teacher… I love my job.” you pleaded, your eyes almost watery.

“If you love it so much then why fuck it up with your little side job, hm?”

You fell silent.

“Look. I’ll do anything you want. Just please… I’ll give you free weed. I’m sure inside there shit is as fucked up as shit is outside. Rations are growing thin. I needed the extra notes.” you muttered.

You knew it was dangerous to deal inside FEDRA’s QZs but even if you loved your job as a teacher, this world had left you with hunger and the need to survive even if that made you do things you weren’t proud of.

The officer looked at you, her emerald eyes squinting.

“One bag a week.” you offered, crossing your fingers. Please, please, please, please…

She scoffs.

“You trying to buy me off?”

You swallow, hard. You’re trembling. Shit.

She fell silent once again before her words gave you a gust of new and fresh air.

“Three.” you frowned. “Three bags a week.” she clarified and your eyes shot open. “If you’re not in I will…”

“No. Three bags it is.” you nodded, your whole body fluttering with relief.

“Then it’s a deal, pretty girl.” she smirked. “Just make sure I don’t catch you dealing again, or nobody else. People out here aren’t as nice as me.”

Nice my ass…

“You won’t officer. It’s a deal.”

—

Getting caught by a FEDRA officer was a really close call. It hurt you, you and your pride to crumble that easy underneath that green eyed girl, but you had to bend and accept her conditions or else you’d have probably ended up cleaning sewers for the rest of your life.

You kind of owed her. Three baggies of weed a week were a lot, but if you wanted her to stay quiet then three would be. But all of that went to hell when a rumor hit your ears. One of your current and close clients have told you that there was a new dealer inside the walls or FEDRA, selling weed at better prices than you and making a whole bag.

That was when it hit you. And after taking a closer look…

Motherfucker…

“A sight for sore eyes, aren’t you today, sweetheart?” Ellie, who you’ve had to grow close to, mocked you as she closed the door to your apartment before her back.

You were scowling, your blood boiling.

She frowned when you didn’t sat up from your spot, neither talked back. You always did. Something was wrong.

You looked at her, then back to your computer’s screen, a scoff leaving your lips before you’d turn it around for her to see.

“You’re smart. But not careful.” her skin grew pale when she saw herself dealing with another FEDRA officer at the back of their QZ police departments. She frowned.

“How did you… There weren’t supposed to be no cameras in that alleyway.”

“I put it there.” you smiled, leaving your place on your chair to stand up. “You know… It’s really shitty to try and steal clients from another dealer. It’s… Really offensive, Ellie. Even more when you’re using your dealer’s weed that they bribe you with…” she swallowed.

It was fun. See her fall apart like you had.

“Are you gonna tell FEDRA?” she inquired, and you smirked.

“Oh no… I called you to…, make you an offer.” you leaned against your table, your head lolling to the side as you gave her an innocent smile. She knew it wasn’t anything at all.

“An offer?” she inquired and you nodded.

“Since your little FEDRA friends seem to like my weed so much… I thought that maybe you could work with me, you know? Keep doing you dealing, keep making profits…”

“What’s the catch?” she inquired, and you smirked.

“So smart, aren’t you?” you sighed. “Well, since I’m the one providing for you, it’s only fair that I’d get the most profit. 60-40.” you said, and she scoffed.

“No fucking way.” she spat, and you shrugged.

“Well. If you don’t want to that’s fine. I’ll just go ahead and show your little bosses this amazing recording of you dealing with your friends. They’d probably give me a whole life worth of supplies for catching the rat living inside their walls.” you shrugged, but as you turned you and gave her your back, you heard her yell.

“Wait!” you smiled, turning once again with your eyebrows rose and your arms crossed over your chest. She sighed, looking at her feet as she clenched her jaw and fisted her hands. “Fine.” she mumbled under her breath, teeth gritted.

“What? I’m sorry… I didn’t hear you.” you mocked her, and she gave you a dead stare.

“I said fine.” she repeated and you smiled.

“There she is… My smart little officer.” you cooed, sitting back on your chair. “What are you waiting for? Sit down, we have a lot to plan.” you said, and tried your hardest not to laugh as she harshly pulled from the free chair and sat down.

—

After your deal was sealed, you and Ellie were making a lot. And you really meant it. A lot. You had even been able to move to a better and much expensive apartment on the south of the town, having a great view of the city beneath your feet. The profit was big. And it kept growing. And with new dreams came more days in a row that you’d see Ellie, spending hours on end with her due to new deals and spots.

You’d pretend you hated it. Her and her stupid remarks and bickering. Her and her stupid shiny green eyes, which would spark every time you’d talk back after her teasing. Her and how hot she looked while dealing, how her free hand would be silently holding the gun to come off as more impotent. How her tattoo would show, how the veins on her hands would pop and decorate her skin…

Yeah. Absolutely hated it.

Today was no different. The deal was done. And you were of course not looking at her and her hands through the whole three minutes that it lasted.

You left your backpack on the table, instantly going for a beer to your kitchen. You threw one at your back, fully knowing that Ellie would be there to catch it. She did.

She took out the profits of the day from her pocket and smirked, leaving your bit on the counter.

“You pulled 20 more from Jesse?” you inquired, impressed.

“He was gonna have a gathering with his little buddies. Hooked him up.” she shrugged and you shook your head, scoffing.

“Impressive.” you accepted, making her arch her eyebrows.

“Was that a compliment, pretty girl?” you pushed her away as she leaned closer, going to your living room and taking one of your already rolled blunts from your tea table before sitting down on your sofa.

“Keep dreaming, Williams.” you smirked, a spark lighting the joint, filling your lungs with the smoke and burning up the back of your throat.

She took the free space beside you. Chuckling when the smell of the weed hit her.

“‘M sorry officer.” you mocked her, falsely pouting. “Hey!” you said when she took it away from you, taking a deep and hard drag of the blunt.

“It’s confiscated now. You know…, the law and all that.” she smirked, and you rolled your eyes, leaning against your legs to reach down on your tea table and grab another joint for yourself.

Ellie tried really hard to not stare at your ass as you did so, but you had worn that tiny little skirt that you seemed to like to wear around her, and it was hugging you really good.

She quickly looked away, taking another drag of her joint and spreading wider on the sofa, leaning more on it.

You lit your blunt and took a drag, leaning against the sofa. Your tongue dampened your lips as your eyes met her thighs, clothed in a pare of skinny low-rise jeans. You really were thanking the summer as you checked out the muscles of her naked arms.

You looked away before you could get too lost on the lines of ink on her skin, closing your eyes with a new drag.

Ellie looked at you, plump lips surrounding the bud, rosy cheeks due to the warmth of the weather…

“You okay there, princess?” she inquired and you huffed.

“Why? Because I’m silent?” you answered.

“Just checking. Usually you’d be enjoying clawing at my neck and all that.”

“Oh, as if you’re not the same. Perhaps I’m not that interested in talking to you, Ellie, have you thought about it?” you squinted your eyes and she scoffed.

“Woah. That actually hurt. Harsh, princess.” she sarcastically and playfully grabbed her chest, and your rolled your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry, officer. Am I a bad girl now? Are you gonna cuff me up, hm?” you innocently said, playful.

What you didn’t expect was the slight shiver that went down Ellie’s body, nor how her eyes seemed to get hazier.

“Is that what my bad girl wants? For me to get a little bit rougher with her?” she talked back, following your little game, although her voice was deeper, and more velvety now. She leaned in, a smirk on her lips. You were out of words. “What is it, hm? Cat got your tongue?” you swore you could hear your own breath hitching when she took your chin in between her thumb and index finger.

Your heart jumped when her eyes fell to your lips right before going back to your face.

“Look at you. All dumb and pretty. You look so pretty when you keep your mouth shut…” you swallowed, her tatted hand—that was holding the blunt— falling onto your naked thigh.

“Fuck you.” you spat, and her smirk grew, her emerald eyes brightening up.

“I bet you’d love to.” she muttered, and a shiver went down your spain when her hand travelled closer and closer to your core, slowly teasing you, warm fingertips against your skin. It was intoxicating. “Or maybe even the other way around. I bet you’d look so pretty beneath me, all sweaty and messy taking whatever I might decide to give you.”

You couldn’t help the way your thighs squeezed together at her words, your eyes widening as she chuckled.

“Come on princess, you’re growing quiet on me.” she taunted you, and you groaned.

“Oh, shut up.”

“You always know the way to make me.” she smirked, for a split of a second your eyes flickered to her lips…

And suddenly, your mind came up with two words that were enough to make you finally break the distance in between the two of you. Fuck it. Your need took over you when your lips crashed against the other, teeth messily clashing and tongue slapping the other.

“I hate you.” you breathed out in between kisses, hearing Ellie hum against your lips.

“Of course you do.” she nodded before harshly kissing you once again, a smirk tugging from her lips. Ellie took the blunt from you, and you almost cried when her hand left your thigh to leave the joints on the ashtray before getting back on your skin. You couldn’t help the way your thighs pressed against the other, your pussy already throbbing and begging for her touch.

Ellie clicked her tongue. “Nuh-uh. Keep them open for me, baby.” she said, and smiled when you did so. “That’s it, good girl.” you let out a breathy moan the moment her fingertips pressed against your dampened panties, the praise making your walls tighten around your awaiting to be filled hole. “Fuck. So wet for me already and I haven’t even touched you.” you moaned, just the mere thought of having her fingers inside of you making you almost beg for more. “Would you like that, hm? Would like me to fuck my fingers into your pussy baby?” you nodded, making her hum. “You look so pretty right now, being such a good girl for me… Look at you.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when her fingers pushed aside your panties and met your clit, rolling your puffy bud in tight and slow circles. You moaned, back arching and a gasp leaving your lips. “That’s it, baby. Take it, come on.”

“Fuck, Ellie.” you whimpered, and her heart jumped, her own pussy growing wetter.

“Shit, forget it. I definitely like you better when you’re not quiet.” she cursed, slowly pressing a finger in between your tight and warm walls, making you sigh and rock your hips against her hand in search of more.

You were a whimpering and moaning mess by the time she started slowly fucking it in and out of you, her lips latched to your neck, leaving marks that would decorate your skin for days. You should probably push her away, tell her to stop with every new harsh suck on your flesh, but you couldn’t, ‘cause it felt so good…

“Fuck, Ellie, please…” you cried out, pleading for more, for her to be harsher, to kiss you deeper…

“Shit, you’re so fucking hot.” he groaned, quickly getting on her knees and in between your thighs. You couldn’t help the scream that tore your throat when her lips latched to your clit, another finger now fucking into you. “So sweet. Taste so good for me.” she hummed, lapping at your cunt like a woman starved.

Your fingers tangled on her hair when her own curled and hit your g spot, making you loudly moan and ground yourself on her face. “Right there, hm?” she teased, curling them again and leaving you unable to snap back. You were dumb on her fingers and tongue, on the pleasure she brought you with just her single touch.

You recognized the warmth that was building up on your lower stomach, how close you seemed to be to come undone for her. Your thighs trembled and she sucked harder on your clit, making you moan.

“Ellie, I’m gonna-“ a gasp left you mid-sentence, making her chuckle.

“You gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum all over my face, hm?” you moaned, nodding.

“Yes, fuck, yes. So close…” you cried out, rocking your hips against her face as the knot grew tighter. “I’m cumming, fuck!”

You let out a pornographic moan as you came all over her face, waves of pleasure hitting you as she helped you rode it out, hungrily lapping at your juices, not wanting to let any of it go to waste.

She was impossibly turned on, in need to touch you more, to hear you moan and scream her name more…

“I need to fuck you, shit. Can I fuck you baby? Gonna be good for me and help me cum too?” you nodded.

“Yes, yes, please, Ellie…” you whimpered, eyes widening when she took you in between her arms and quickly walked towards your bedroom, throwing you onto the mattress. You knew Ellie was strong, but fuck if that wasn’t the hottest thing you had ever experienced in your whole life.

“You’re dribbling a little bit there, princess.” she mocked you as she tugged her white tank top off, her beautiful and perfect tits making you almost moan. She was so fucking hot. “Why don’t you take your clothes off for me, hm?” she asked, and you followed. “That’s it. Atta girl.” you whimpered and she was back on top of you, smirking. “Aw, does my girl like it when I praise her, hm? You like being my good girl, don’t you baby?” you nodded, eyes on her now naked thighs and cunt. God, the things you’d do to return Ellie the favor and lay in between her legs.

You moaned when her hands cupped your breasts, mouth latching to your right nipple as the other got pinched and teased by her fingers.

“You look so beautiful just like this, all ready and needy for me to fuck…” you whined, your hips bucking against hers as she pulled from your thighs. Her cunt was dangerously close to yours, and you were dripping in need to feel her. For her to fuck you.

“Shit Ellie, please… Fuck me. Fuck me please.” you pleaded, your bones aching for her.

“Look at you. Asking so nice to make a mess out of you… So cute…” she muttered against your lips, and your back arched when she thrusted against your cunt, clits bumping together. She groaned and you moaned, whole body shivering as she started to rock her hips against yours, gushing and slick sounds coming from your cunts filling the room and making your cheeks grow pink. “That’s it, you feel so fucking good…” she moaned, and you gasped. You needed to hear her moans again, though you feared that if you did, you’d come faster than you’d ever before.

Your hands unconsciously travelled to her hips, pushing her closer, harder against your pussy, making your moans grow louder and louder as her speed caught up.

“Good girl. Shit, you’re gonna make me cum so fucking hard…” she cursed, kissing your neck, playing with your tits…

“Ellie…” you sobbed. “ ‘M close!”

“You close baby? Gonna cum for me? Gonna give me one more, hm? Go ahead, be a good girl for me and come. Let me have it.” she didn’t have to ask twice, with one last thrust against your clit, your back arched in pleasure, moans loud and non-stopping as you came. Your vision turned white for a moment, your hears ringing at the increíble pleasure that seemed to have no end as she too chased her peak.

“Fuck, I’m cumming. Shit.” she panted, moaning and coming all over your sticky folds, nails digging on your thighs as she rode it out, hearing your moans and calls of pleasure.

You whimpered when the overstimulation became too much, and she let go of you, a string of cum connecting your cunts as she pulled away. You almost moaned at the sight.

You looked into her eyes, and that’s when it hit you that you had forgotten one of the most important dealer rules; Never get too hooked up on drugs.

And Ellie Williams was a hard one.

＊＊＊＊

a/n; hope you liked it <3 i missed writing for cop Ellie!

here’s the link to the tag to find my masterlists! since tumblr seems to be having problems with the links on my masterlist pinned post <3

xxxxx

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punchitmrsulu · 1 month

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Omg, man, Danai is an absolute, goddam FUCKING GENIUS!!! That was one of the best episodes I have ever seen on television! Just let her write everything there is!! All the movies, all the TV shows, all the books, just let her run EVERYTHING!! I don't even know where to begin!! I need to watch it like 74 more times!

God, that was perfect, that was so fucking perfect! Us Richonners have been fed so good! SO GOOD!!!! They gave us EVERYTHING!!!!

I have so many things I need to comment but my mind is going insane!!

The way he ran after her at top speed, completely desperate after she walked out the door!!

The parallel the did when he told her to leave without him on the boat and she was like "Fuck, no!" And then in this one she gets trapped under the chandelier with the walkers coming and she tells him he has to leave her and he's like "Fuck, no!"

The apartment being a smart apartment and as soon as that wide shot of the two of them looking at each other happens, it goes "Welcome home!" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THAT WAS FUCKING GENIUS!!!!!! DANAI IS A FUCKING GENIUS!!!!!!

The way he watched her get undressed, that's how you do the male gaze, guys. Take notes.

The love making...OMFG the love making. THE LOVE MAKING!!!! I can't even begin to explain it, guys. I have no words. It was just...beautiful. It was just absolutely beautiful. I don't even know how to talk about it because it was just perfection. PERFECTION!!!

I mean, he cried, you know?! He cried in the middle of it because of how much it overwhelmed him, he had given up on feeling that happy and complete and loved a long time ago. I can't I can't I can't I CANNOT!!! It was like he was finding the way back to himself and to her and to them through it and it was just too much. DANAI IS A FUCKING GENIUS!!! I just have to say it again!

And on that note, the way they handled his trauma. I mean, this is 8 years of conditioning this man has been through. EIGHT FUCKING YEARS. He is 100% TRAUMATIZED. He doesn't know who he is anymore. I mean "I found a way to survive even though I was dead" HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!! I love how they didn't just brush past that, they showed the toll it took on him and how it's not that easy to get out of a prison even after the doors are open. OMG just, chef's kiss.

Back to the love making for a second, after he goes after her and they're able to get back to the apartment, bickering all the way through fighting the walkers (amazing), the way they did it, how slow it started. He wasn't sure he could approach her but he wanted to, needed to, so he does it carefully, he starts by gently pulling her by the waist and it's slow, almost unsure kisses and then it's full on UGH!!!! INJECT IT INTO MY VEINS!!!!

Just everything about this episode. Literally every single second. Give them all of the awards, ALL OF THEM!

#one couple to rule them all #richonne #michonne #michonne grimes #rick grimes #danai gurira #andrew lincoln #the walking dead #the ones who live #the walking dead the ones who live #twd #towl #twd towl #scott gimple

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velvetydream · 1 month

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꒰ :🥀 [ Blissfull relief ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Sampo wakes you up from the Golden Hour in a pretty interesting way.

Pairing : Sampo x fem! Reader

Word count : 864 Words

Genre : Smut (Minors DNI)

Warnings ➵ Slight Peanacony Spoilers

Content ➵ Somnophilia (Consented),

Cunnilingus

a/n : Short one to get back into writing, also everything in this is written with consent in mind, reader gave Sampo the consent to be woken up like that. Also idk how lore accurate this is with the pool, but eh let's go with the flow!

The Golden Hour was buzzing with people like always, people from many different planets and so many different backgrounds. Yourself strolling through the bustling streets to the Clockie statue right now. Sampo had told you to wait up for him there yesterday, wondering what he wanted to talk about.

Watching the storefronts, everything looked expensive and just perfect for this dream world. It was crazy to imagine the Golden Hour even exists, that the Dreamscape overall exists.

Arriving at the statue, you take a good look around, the blue-haired man is nowhere to be seen, he probably would take a while longer. The golden statue of Clockier was reflecting the lights of the city, making it look as if it was sparkling. Further behind it was the poster of Robin, many people walking the streets humming or singing her songs. Stepping over to one of the many benches, taking a seat as you fold your leg over the other, waiting patiently for a certain someone to meet you. Some time goes by, looking at your phone for a second, he is already 20 minutes late, Sampo usually comes a bit later but not this much and especially not to a meeting with you.

Sighing as you put your phone back into your pocket, rest your elbow on your knee and your face on your hand. People were walking by, not one giving you a glance. Everyone here was in their own little world. Somewhere in the background, you could also hear some of those walking billboards pestering the people walking past them.

A while went by when you suddenly started to feel a little uncomfortable. It confused you. You couldn't really describe this feeling, but it felt tight? As if your chest is getting tight. Your chest tingling. Suddenly a jolt makes you bend over, chest pressed to your knees now, your right hand over your mouth. Eyes blown wide, as you feel heat building up in your core slowly. What was happening? Something like this never happened to you here.. Was your body getting sick? We're you about to wake up?

Sampo still wasn't here which worried you slowly, it must have been an hour by now. The heat in your body slowly but surely rises and gets stronger and hotter with every passing second. By now people gave you glances, wondering what was wrong with you, probably thinking you drank too much SoulGlad and were about to empty it again. But this was far from what was happening to you. The urge to slip your hand down to your core and silence the burning desire was getting hard to control. But you couldn't, not here, yet you knew if you were to stand up in this condition it wouldn't work out for you.

Maybe you should just wake up? Finish this awake and in the hotel? But then again Sampo would probably be here soon.. Another flash of burning hot desire was sent through your body, more intense than any before. Your eyes shoot open, as your mouth opens to let out a pathetic moan, hands thrashing around to grab anything around you, which ends up being a head of blue hair.

"Finally awake.. Took you almost half an hour, amazing how long you did." Above you was Sampo, looking down, the lower half of your body was exposed while still in the pool. Just not the conversation you and he had last week hits you. Telling him how hot you think it would be for him to wake you up by eating you out, giving him your consent to surprise you if he was to do it. Yet you didn't think he would convert that idea so soon.

"Cat got your tongue? Maybe I should just continue so all you can do is moan while you come ondone on my tongue." With that Sampo lowers his body back down, his hot tongue running a stripe up your core, before licking around the sensitive nub. This was bliss. Your right hand was softly tangled in his locks, while the other held onto the edge of the pool, eyes closed while your head was thrown back. His hand was slowly moving under your shirt, pushing it up a little bit while doing so, before finally reaching the sensitive nipples and softly twisting them between his thumb and pointer finger.

With all this build-up of pleasure and the pleasure Sampo was still giving you, you were bound to not last longer and he knew that, from the way you were moving around, his free arm holding you in place by your thigh. With a suck to your clit, you finally come undone on his tongue, making him lap up any last bit of your release, before moving his body over you.

"Now, did that fulfill that fantasy of yours darling?" His green eyes were staring down at you, with a handsome smirk on his face. "Better than how I imagined." Pulling him down by his shoulders now, this was bound to be a long night ahead.

#Banner : @cafekitsune #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #sampo koski #sampo x reader #hsr sampo #honkai star rail sampo #sampo x you #smut #sampo smut

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buildgrist · 7 months

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I wrote this last year on Twitter, but since Empty Spaces has sort of abandoned ship, I'll post it here too:

"Funeral"

A woman's whole life changes the first time she sees a combat doll.

First-person, combat doll setting by Twitter user mars_phobos_L1

CW: Harassment, violence, military context, blood, personality changes, conditioning, surgery, unreliable memory

Story below cut:

I washed out of combat training almost immediately, but it wasn’t enough to get me off the hook. I’m sure you all know how it goes – just because you can’t fight doesn’t mean you can’t support the ones who do. If you can’t carry a gun, you can fix a gun, if you can’t fly a plane, you can fuel a plane.

Nothing wrong with that, of course! It’s simply efficient use of resources, and I’m certainly in no place to criticize that, especially not given my current status, so to speak. But even then I wasn’t exactly bothered by it -- I would have rather not been conscripted at all, but maintenance would be safe and interesting and I was already pretty good at it.

The first time I ever saw a combat doll was when I was at the range, trying to get in enough practice to pass my pistol qualifications. I didn’t even know she was there, at first - there was no fuss, no fanfare - but as soon as her handler started barking those sharp, staccato orders I realized what was going on.

I looked over, of course. I know, we’ve all been taught not to make eye contact with the dolls because they might take it as aggression, but how could I not be curious? Can any of you say you wouldn’t be tempted to take a peek?

I hadn’t expected her to not be wearing her mask. All the publicity photos, all the technical diagrams, all the battlefield footage always shows dolls with their masks on, so I assumed that was just their usual state – but no, I was wrong. That was her natural face, with her implant jacks and her surgical scars and her delicate-looking skin. I truly hadn’t expected her to be so pretty…

She caught me looking, of course. Dolls are the apex predators of the battlefield, and noticing a maintenance trainee staring at her was trivial in comparison. She met my eyes before I could look away, and then I couldn’t look away. I knew nothing except her eyes and my heart pounding in my ears, and I had no idea what was coming next… and then she grinned at me.

That grin did something to me, something strange and frightening and wonderful. It felt like lightning running down my spine, like watching a sunrise after being blind my whole life, like finding my way out of a forest I’d been lost in since birth. I was never the same again.

I needed to know who she was, of course. She could pick off targets faster than my eyes could follow, with a perfect bullseye every time. Her handler ran her through everything in our arsenal, and more besides - pistols, rifles, machine guns, throwing knives, on and on - and she was perfect every time. How could I have not wanted to know more after watching a display like that?

Well, apparently, that made me the weird one in the battalion. Everyone I asked about her just shrugged or gave me sidelong glances. Why would they want to keep track of which doll was which, they asked? They were all equally frightening, after all. What did it matter what the shark swimming next to you was named?

It took more than a week - and a couple cases of beer - for me to find out who I’d seen. My buddy on the security team had seen the handler’s name and done some quick research, and he was willing to pass on that information… for the right price, of course.

Victoria. Her name was Victoria, and the next thing he said to me was “be fuckin’ careful around that one,” which didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me at the time. We’re taught to use caution around all dolls, combat or not, why the extra warning?

Because, he told me, there were stories about the Victory-class dolls. They weren’t the fastest dolls or the most powerful dolls, but they were notoriously unpredictable, and dangerous even to their allies. I won’t get into the details right now, that’s not what I’m here to do - but some of your classmates went pale the moment I said her name, so ask them about it later.

But what did that have to do with Victoria? I had to ask, because I used to be a little slow on the uptake sometimes. In case any of you haven’t put all the pieces together: Victoria is the first Victory-class, the flagship, the template upon which all others were modeled – and that meant if there was some fault with the Victory-class dolls, some flaw in their design or their conditioning, Victoria would definitely have it.

Even with all he’d told me, and all I’d learned on my own afterwards, I still couldn’t get her off my mind. Not that I was thinking about her every second, or even every day, but that moment never quite left my mind. I’d lay down and try to sleep, close my eyes, and behind my eyelids I’d see that bare face, that grin, and my heart would start pounding all over again.

By the time we were given our assignments, I knew what I was going to do. I knew what I had to do. I got the cushiest possible position – 8th Supply Battalion, well away from any combat zones, where the greatest danger would be a private driving a forklift drunk. The perfect position to serve out three years of compulsory service and go back to my old life, right?

Except I didn’t want it. I hadn’t wanted it since the moment I’d seen her.

As soon as we were dismissed, I went straight to the commander’s office and asked for a transfer – which they don’t usually do, of course, but he was willing to hear me out anyway, so I told him I needed to be on Victoria’s maintenance crew. Once he was done laughing he asked me what I was really there to ask for, and I repeated my request. I explained to him that I was serious, that I wanted, needed more than anything else, to be assigned to maintenance for Victoria.

He didn’t understand – which is no surprise, because I don’t think any of you do either. Why would I have wanted to be transferred to the only role that had higher casualty rates than front-line infantry, right? Truth be told, I didn’t understand either, and I still don’t. There’s nothing I can point to, no specific reason, just this surety that I belonged there and nowhere else.

Someone needed to do maintenance on the dolls, right? Why shouldn’t it be someone enthusiastic about it, someone fully committed to their role? I don’t know if my argument won him over or if he was just tired of listening to me, but in the end he just shrugged and wrote out my transfer orders: maintenance crew, Victory-class combat doll “Victoria”.

I still remember what he said when he handed me the orders:

“It’s your funeral.”

Just because I’d volunteered for the position didn’t mean I was any less nervous when I first reported for duty! The rest of the crew had already been giving me a hard time - I was the squeaky-clean new girl, fresh out of training - but honestly, they weren’t why I was nervous. That was just some laughs and some hazing, nothing I wasn’t used to by that point.

No, I was nervous because of the six-plus feet of exquisite purpose-built killing machine standing in the middle of the maintenance bay.

The thing is, though.. the reasonable thing would have been to worry that Victoria was going to kill me, right? That’s what you’d be afraid of, that’s what any sensible person would be afraid of! But it wasn’t what I was afraid of.

I’d done my research, I knew the numbers, and I was certain - beyond the slightest shadow of a doubt - that I wasn’t going to survive three years in her maintenance crew. I’d made my peace with that before I ever even walked into the commander’s office.

I was worried that Victoria wasn’t going to like me.

I know that probably sounds bizarre to you - after all, nobody worries about whether their tank likes them, right? - but trust me, it was absolutely the biggest thing on my mind. So much so, in fact, that I decided to introduce myself to her immediately! Why hang around hiding behind the rest of the maintenance crew when I could just walk right up to her and make a good first impression instead?

So that’s exactly what I did. Right into the maintenance bay, right past the rest of the crew, right across those painted lines on the floor… one foot in front of the other, listening to the pounding of my heart until I was within arm’s length of an active combat doll.

I took one more deep breath, accepted that it could have been my last, and gave her the usual introduction: name, rank, and role. She just stared at me, with those intense eyes I remembered so well, and I offered a little bit of extra politeness – just a simple little “I look forward to working with you, ma’am.”

The moment the words were out of my mouth, she grabbed me by the collar and dragged me in, my body pressed up against hers, and as I stared up at her in shock and fear and excitement, I heard her voice for the first time.

“You’re cute,” she said.

There were teeth in my neck before I could even make sense of her words - combat-specced teeth, the kind that can slice through bone - and it was unbearably painful… but also something about it felt right. I was helpless in her grip, completely powerless, and I realized that I’d wanted that all along.

I saw her true face for the first time, then. That flat, blank non-expression she’d been wearing when I walked up to her had simply been another mask, another disguise… and she’d let it fall away. As she licked my blood from her lips, I understood – she was a hunter, a predator, hungry for more and strong enough to take whatever she wanted… and I was her prey.

I suspect your instructor would kick me out of this class immediately if I described what she did next, so I’ll just say ‘she had her way with me and I had no desire to stop her.’ You’ll have to use your imaginations for the rest… or come find me sometime and I’ll be happy to tell you all about it!

Anyway, even though it seemed like I’d made an excellent impression on Victoria, the rest of the maintenance crew was pretty clear that I’d made a pretty poor impression on them. As soon as we were off-duty and the dolls had all been escorted back to their bunker, they made their feelings known in a very direct fashion.

I got off easy, they told me, pointing out maintenance staff for other dolls. One man had a bloody bandage where his ear had been, and another was completely unresponsive – just blankly staring at a wall. In comparison to things like that, a bite and some fucking was downright gentle for a Victory-class doll!

The crew insisted that I’d better not expect special treatment from Victoria to mean they’d give me special treatment too – I protested that I’d never once expected that, but I don’t think they were listening to me by that point. From all the shouts and cursing, it seemed like they were upset that I, the death-wish rookie who walked right up to a combat doll and introduced herself, had been treated more gently than maintenance staff who simply wanted to carry out their duties safely.

I tried to answer them, I tried to explain that all I’d done was to be friendly and polite, that I’d just wanted to treat Victoria with the respect she deserved. They didn’t like that answer.

Nobody told me about this, so I’ll pass it on as a warning to you just in case: maintenance crews aren’t just wary of their dolls, they’re downright resentful of them. From their perspective, the dolls are the thing that stands between them and getting home safely, and they’re not particularly fond of people who see the situation differently.

I, not knowing this, made some helpful comments about the dolls not being our enemy, about our purpose being to support the dolls so they can carry out their Purpose. Shortly thereafter, in a totally unrelated event, I slipped and fell down a staircase – completely by accident, of course.

I’d been hoping that the maintenance crew - and the staircase - had gotten all the vitriol out of their system by then, but it only got worse. Someone had found out that I’d volunteered for the maintenance crew, while they’d all been unwillingly forced into that position, and it was all over. That was all the proof they needed to decide I wasn’t like them in some indescribable way. They might not have been able to explain how, exactly, I was different from them, but they all agreed that I was, and they all wanted to make that my problem.

I next saw Victoria for post-mission diagnostics two days later. The procedures would be routine, and yet the crew was far more anxious than they had been for our previous visit to the maintenance bay. A doll just back from an operation, having spent only a few minutes being gentled by its handler before being sent off to maintenance, was the most dangerous kind of doll as far as the maintenance staff was concerned: all keyed up on adrenaline and battle stimulants and potentially unsure as to whether or not it was actually safe or still on the battlefield.

The crew all talked like they were off to the firing squad, and I had no idea what to expect as we all walked down to the hall… especially when they all hung back, in ones and twos and threes, lagging behind me while I walked up to the maintenance bay first.

I was the tribute, the offering, the fresh meat tossed to Victoria to sate her hunger - and oh, did she ever take the bait. She ran to me, snatched me right off the ground, and sprinted back to her designated zone as if to convince everyone she’d never left.. except now she had me clutched in her arms, her deadly teeth tracing up and down my neck, that beautiful voice giggling in my ear.

The maintenance team had to conduct their diagnostics around me, in the end. Victoria simply didn’t want to give me up, no matter how they tried to convince her -- and I had absolutely no desire to argue with that. Where could I possibly have wanted to be more than her arms?

In fact, I didn’t want to leave her arms. Even once our duty shift was done and she’d turned me loose, bloody and weary and deeply content, I lingered in the maintenance bay as the others fled for the mess. I knew what was waiting for me there - the same thing that had been waiting for me since I first met Victoria - and I wanted to avoid it for as long as possible.

10.

I hadn’t expected her to notice me hanging around - surely I was unworthy of her attention, right? - and yet, as I lingered behind, she spoke to me for the second time. “Not joining them?”

“No ma’am,” I told her, quietly enough for nobody else to hear. I hadn’t meant to say anything else, but the prospect of having a sympathetic ear was just too much, and the words just tumbled out of me. As she stared down at me with that blank expression, I explained how the crew had decided I didn’t belong, and how they’d been treating me since – the punches, the kicks, the fish in my bunk, the thousand other little reminders that they’d decided to hate me.

Eventually I ran out of words and found myself simply staring up at Victoria. She hadn’t said a single thing the entire time, and her expression was the same unreadable blankness that I’d seen before. While I tried to figure out whether she was sympathetic or simply bored, I suddenly realized that she’d met my gaze, staring into my eyes as if she was looking for something. I couldn’t imagine what she was looking for - and, truth be told, I still don’t know what it was - but I stared back up at her and let her look for it.

I guess she found what she was looking for - or perhaps found an absence of the wrong things - because she simply grabbed me by the arm and practically dragged me right out of the maintenance bay. What was she doing? Where was she going? She ignored my questions, of course, so I stopped asking them and simply walked along with her in silence.

You probably haven’t seen a doll bunker yet, but they’re extremely sturdy – downright overengineered, even. They’re even more heavily reinforced than munitions bunkers, and the only route in and out is through an extremely sturdy-looking steel door. It’s the sort of thing that makes the vault doors in heist movies look like tissue paper… and that was the door Victoria had led me to.

Even though I’d walked to the bunker with her willingly, I couldn’t help but protest a little as she swung the bunker door open. I had been told, upon my assignment, that only handlers and commanders were permitted to enter the doll bunker – all support staff were required to stay out in order to avoid ‘unnecessary manpower shortages’. Not that that stopped Victoria, of course! She simply picked me up by the back of my uniform like an uncooperative pet and tossed me right through the door.

11.

Have you ever walked into a room and found eight combat dolls staring directly at you? Sixteen eyes fixed on you, unblinking, like cats that have just spotted a mouse? Presumably not, but if you’re very lucky - or very unlucky - you might get to someday.

That’s where I found myself as the bunker door slammed shut behind me – gracelessly picking myself up off the floor under the hungry gaze of eight combat dolls. They waited a moment, graciously permitting me to get back to my feet, and then… well, I guess the best way to describe it is to say each one started trying, in her own way, to draw me away from my host.

Not a word was spoken, but carnal offers were made, and one or two dolls began to creep toward me as if stalking prey – and then suddenly they all froze at once. I couldn’t receive dollchat yet, so I didn’t know what Victoria said to them - and even now she just giggles when I ask! - but whatever it was, it was enough to convince the other eight dolls not to steal her guest away.

I spent that night in her bunk. I didn't do a lot of actual sleeping, of course, but the moments I did get... having a combat doll holding me close and murmuring sweet reassurances in my ear was maybe the safest I'd ever felt in my whole life. To be told I'm safe now, that the squad will look out for me, that I'm theirs forever…

12.

I hardly ever left the bunker after that. I would have never left, if I’d had the option, but there were still two things I was expected to handle: work and food.

I was still a member of Victoria’s maintenance crew, expected to be present for those duties, and since the necessary hardware was in the maintenance bay, that was where I had to be too. My first duty shift after being taken to the bunker, I’d hesitated – I was even more uncertain about showing my face around the rest of the crew now, after all! Victoria had just returned from a mission, so she would be waiting for me there, but I still had to get from the bunker to the maintenance bay on my own…

Before I figured it out myself, one of the other dolls took pity on me. She took my hand in hers, as if I was a child, and led me to the maintenance bay herself. It was permitted - after all, she was being escorted by maintenance staff - and nobody dared to say she couldn’t stand by while we Victoria received her post- mission diagnostics and I received an entirely different kind of post-mission attention.

I’m not sure if the crew ever appreciated just how much lighter on them she was when I was around, you know? I don’t know if they even noticed, or if they were too busy hating me. It didn’t matter, though – when we were done, Victoria and the other doll walked me back to the bunker, hand in hand, as if they were concerned I’d stray – or flee, perhaps, but there was already no chance of that.

If any of you ever get invited to a bunker, be aware: there’s nothing for you to eat. There is food for the dolls, although it’s terribly bland, but those meals are measured out to the last bite. Even once the whole squad had fully accepted me as their own, they still didn’t have anything to give me – every bite of food for me was one less for them, and dolls are always hungry.

The only way for me to get food would be to get it from the kitchens myself. I’d have to brave the hallways solo, avoiding any other staff, and throw myself on the cook’s mercy in the hopes that they’d be willing to let me take something back with them – and I’d have to do it two or three times a day! It’d be absolutely miserable, right?

As it turned out, that was practically a nonissue. The kitchen staff recognized me on sight - word spreads quickly, especially when you’re escorted to the bunker by two dolls! - and realized that we could solve each other’s problems: I needed food, and they didn’t want to interact with the dolls. If I could come out of the bunker to receive each day’s rations, rather than the staff needing to hand-deliver it directly to the dolls, they’d be more than happy to throw in each day’s worth of meals for me! Teamwork and problem-solving, that’s what we’re trained for, right?

13.

With food resolved and my duties sorted out… well, one day started to blur into the next. There are no windows in a doll bunker, after all -- there’s no sense of time unless you’ve got a chronometer built in, and I sure didn’t. I slept when they let me, I did as I was told, and every time the rations were delivered I felt a little more like I was walking through a dream.

The kitchen staff stopped looking straight at me, eventually. It wasn’t that they were afraid of me - I was no doll, no battlefield predator - but something about me unsettled them. Maybe my body language had changed – after all, I’d been spending more time around dolls than humans, even I could tell that I was picking up their mannerisms, that I was absorbing the way they spoke and moved and held their bodies.

Or maybe it was something else. Maybe there was something in my eyes. I had prostrated myself before the squad and worshipped them for the goddesses they were. I had licked blood from a doll’s body without ever stopping to wonder who it had belonged to. I had given myself to them over and over, even after my stamina was exhausted and I could do little more than accept their desires.

They had made me theirs - with pleasure and pain, with fear and adoration - but they decided I was ready for more.

14.

I’d tell you it was a day like any other, but I don’t even know if it was a day. It was just another moment in the bunker, a moment of laying on a bare concrete floor, my limbs tangled with giggling dolls who simply couldn’t bear to let their plaything go… and then it wasn’t.

They hauled me up off the floor and pushed my back against the wall, one on each side of me, and the rest of the squad parted as Victoria approached, as the doll who’d claimed me first stood over me once more.

“You’ve been fun,” she told me, “but you can be better. We want you to be better. Don’t you want to be better for us?”

Even after all the time I’d spent with them, I still hesitated. I knew what they meant, and I had learned exactly what it entailed. The surgery, the conditioning, the experience of not being human anymore – but wasn’t I already seen as no longer human?

Victoria saw that hesitation, she saw the fear in my eyes, and stroked my head like a pet. She promised me she’d stay by my side the whole time… and she promised to do my conditioning herself.

How could I say no to that?

15.

The surgeons broke me. There’s no way to sugarcoat that. Even without all the modifications combat dolls get, having an arrhythmia control device implanted in your chest without any anesthetic is simply more than any human can bear and stay sane – so I didn’t. I screamed, I struggled and I let myself fall apart.

Victoria put me back together. She reminded me how much I liked being helpful, and how much I enjoyed being useful. She dug up my memories of how much I loved each and every member of the squad, and she made those memories into the core of my personality so I could never, ever forget again. As for the rest of my memories… well, I told you this whole story, didn't I? But everything before the dolls took me in feels distant, removed from me, as if they're someone else's memories instead of my own. It's better that way – I have a whole new life and a whole new family to love.

Speaking of which, Victoria had a surprise for me once I'd recovered, a way of celebrating me as the newest part of their family. One at a time, each doll got up on one of the bunks like it was a makeshift stage and delivered maudlin, overdramatic speeches about the person they imagined I had been before, and we all giggled along together.

In the end, it was my funeral after all.

16.

There you have it, that's the whole story. That's how I went from being just like you to being who I am now. Your instructor wanted me to share it as a warning, a cautionary tale, and I'm sure for most of you it is. But for one or two of you, if it appeals–

Yes, sir?

Understood, sir.

Thank you for your time, everyone! May fate preserve us! Good luck on your quals!

#empty spaces #09bdc9 #combat doll #dollposting

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munsonthings86 · 1 month

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hello, can I request a Steve Harrington fic where r working too hard for school and has been pulling all nighters frequently to keep track. R ends up being too tired and falling a little sick and not leaving the house except for when she has to go to school and her friends notice, Steve notices. Steve comes over, tries to help her and something along those lines. You can write it however you want, you can change it up if you want. Thank you :)

thank you for the request! tweaked it just a tiny bit, hope you enjoy :)

contains: cursing, fluff, overworked reader, soft!steve harrington, forgotten date, 1.0k words

School. Study. "Sleep". It was an endless, mind-numbing cycle that you were convinced was spiraling you into borderline madness. The condition of your bedroom was identical to how your brain had been feeling for the past week: cluttered and chaotic. With empty coffee cups littering your small floral desk, and your blush duvet covering more of the carpeted floor than your actual bed, you could hardly even recognize the room anymore.

The dirty laundry strewn across your floor would often trip you when you walked, but the assignments that you were practically drowning in made it impossible to shift your focus onto tidying the place.

You'd become a hermit; only leaving the comfort of your home to go to school and occasionally, the library, on the days that your room felt like more of a prison than a place of rest. Robin and Nancy, along with your boyfriend Steve, were certain you were avoiding them like the plague. They'd beg you to hangout with them, even bribing you by offering to treat you to lunch at the local diner, but the only thing you could say in return was a dry, "maybe later".

You didn't mean to be cold to them, but you were laser-focused on your agenda, determined to work first and play later. It's what led you to where you were now: head buried in your third textbook of the night, butt aching from being sat on your wooden chair for far too long.

On a Friday night of all.

From your window, you heard people, around your age you assumed, parading the streets and laughing loudly– enjoying their simple, young lives. Something you wished you could be doing too. But your work wasn't going to do itself.

You were color-coding the notes on your flashcard when three knocks sounded at your door, to which you mumbled a soft, "Come in," that even you barely heard. Your mother walked in, a mess of flour and an assortment of seasonings splotched on her apron from cooking dinner. "Honey, Steve's here," she smiled softly, though it was evident on her face that she was biting back the urge to tell you to clean your room, bless her.

The yellow highlighter you had was soon forgotten as your eyebrows furrowed, wondering what Steve was doing here. He usually called first.

Steve gave her a sweet grin when he passed her, leaving the door slightly cracked open, per your mothers request. In his hands he held a large box of pizza and a bouquet of pink roses; looking as dashing as ever with a crewneck and blue jeans adorning his body, with his hair being the perfect kind of messy.

You can't help but smile when you see him.

"Well, this is a rare sighting," he laughed, referring to you, "Should probably get this on camera." He kicked his white sneakers off where your own shoes were piled at, setting the pizza box down on your dresser.

"Very funny," you deadpanned, arms crossed on top of your chest. "What're you doing here?"

Steve approached you, something like a frown weighing on his lips. He taps the bouquet against his chest a couple times when he gently reminds you, "It's Friday."

You almost want to reach into your own body to catch your heart when you feel it completely sink. Friday's were you and Steve's designated date nights, never missing one since the two of you began dating a couple months ago. With the way you'd been so stressed and busy lately, it had completely slipped your mind. Suddenly, you felt incredibly guilty.

"Fuck," your head fell into your hands as you rubbed at your tired eyes, harshly. Your words were muffled when you continued, "I'm sorry, I'm the worst."

Steve shook his head almost instantly, gently resting the flowers down on the desk next to you. "Hey, c'mon," he started, moving your hands from your face, standing you up in front of him. "It's okay, I know you've been busy lately."

He rubbed at your shoulders tenderly and the warm touch melted you. It was the first time you truly relaxed that whole week. "You're not mad?" You asked the question in a hushed tone, looking up at him with glittering eyes that were a bit red, your nose a similar hue. You must've been getting sick. His poor baby.

"Not even a little," he gazed at you with heated, sincere brown eyes and you couldn't will yourself to look at anything else. He kissed your forehead, and it's a bit salty with sweat, but he doesn't mind. "Just worried, is all," he murmured, adjusting the pendant on your necklace that had somehow found its way onto your back.

"Can I help at all?" He nodded at the books on your table.

"Steve, no offense but it's AP Calc," you smiled, lightly scratching at his scalp when your arms found their way around his neck. You laughed when his eyebrows raised as if he was startled, slightly shaking his head. "Christ," he says through clenched teeth, though he doubles down on his offer, "well, then I guess I'm learning AP Calc today. No biggie," he shrugs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

"You don't have to do that, Stevie," you spoke against his lips, admiring how unbelievably sweet your boyfriend was. You knew how much he hated school, especially math, so you were more than grateful that he was willing to put himself through quite literal torture, just to make your night a bit easier. "But I want to," he kissed your nose. "Dinner first though, 'cause I know you skipped out on lunch."

Squinting your eyes, you released your hold on him. Sometimes it scared you how well he knew you. "How-?"

"I have eyes everywhere, love," he answered your question before you could even get it out. You rolled your eyes, a smile playing at your lips, already knowing that his "eyes" in question were just Robin and Nancy looking out for you.

💌 1 new message from jojo: writing this while procrastinating on like ten assignments was so funny lol. comments and reblogs are always appreciated! inbox is open!

#jojo’s requests ☁️#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #soft!steve harrington #joe keery #stranger things

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inkofthebrain · 3 months

Text

Beach Day

Modern!Mizu x F!Reader

Art Creds: @lillydrawsmizu thank you for bringing this to life <3

Warnings: none

AN: the only volleyball experience I have is playing on the beach drunk out of my mind in high school so this is going to be interesting. Not proofread lawl.

——————

You were layed out across a towel, arm above your head, soaking in the sunny summer day and enjoying the sounds of the water. Taigen spotted a private little beach while on a run a few weeks back and after begging everybody to check it out, a beach day was finally in order. The communal volleyball court that originally caught his attention was in ok condition, a few loose threads here and there and wooden posts that were the ideal perching spot for seagulls when there wasn't a commotion around the net.

"Y/n!" Akemi called from the net, which sat a few feet away from the group's setup of towels, coolers, and umbrellas. You turned your head to the left to face your friend, seeing Ringo walking off the court and heading towards the water. "Come join us! Ringo wants to swim so we are short one." The three left on the court were all turned to you, Akemi and Taigen on the right and Mizu on the left.

You shook your head and let out a laugh, "No! You guys know I can't play."

"C'mon, it's game point it'll be quick. I'm not giving up until Mizu admits I'm better than her" He placed his sunglasses on his head and crossed his arms.

"Yeah right," Mizu scoffs, "c'mon y/n I'll teach you, it's easy," she says with a smile, motioning you to walk over to her. You couldn't refuse her offer, she was having so much fun and you'd hate to be the reason they'd have to end the game (resulting in Taigen demanding a rematch for days every time he sees Mizu).

"Fineeeee," You got up with a groan, adjusting your bathing suit as you walked over. Mizu turned back to face the net and put her hands up to catch the ball Taigen threw her way. She dropped it onto the ground, putting her foot on it to stop it from rolling away.

"I apologize in advance, I have no idea what I'm doing" You tucked your hair behind your ear, smiling at the raven-haired girl in front of you. Taigen and Akemi were distracted in conversation on the other side of the net.

"Don't apologize, you are gonna do great," She waves her hand in front of her, dismissing your apology, "Now, you are going to want to hold your hands like this." Her slender fingers grabbed your hands, placing them in the correct position. You looked at her soft features while she made minor adjustments to your form, a slight blush creeping across your face as her hands lingered on yours.

"Perfect, remember to hit with your forearms when you pass, it gives you the most control." She taped your arm, pointing to where she was referencing, and you hummed in acknowledgment. She gave you a quick overview of the rules and after passing the ball back and forth to each other a few times it was time to start the game.

"You ready to go down?" Taigen taunts, earning a light slap on his arm from Akemi who shot him a glare.

"In your dreams" Mizu retorts with a smirk. She started walking to the end of the court to serve, pausing next to you placing her hand on your shoulder, leaning close to your ear.

"Aim for Akemi, she is scared of getting hit in the face. It's an easy point." Her voice sends chills down your spine as she away, looking at you with a smile, the proximity holding a tension you couldn't quite place.

"Okay," You said in a whisper, admiring her eyes. She gave your shoulder a squeeze, her hand sliding down and leaving the warmth of your body as she got ready to serve. Your eyes followed her toned figure, a slight breeze causing her ponytail to sway slightly.

Mizu shoots you a wink before hitting the ball, sending it flying across the net. Taigen runs after it, passing it to Akemi who almost misses and barely gets it over the net. You dive towards the ball, hitting it with as much force and precision that you can muster.

“Atta’ girl y/n!” Mizu shouts, causing a smile to spread across your face as you back up from the net. Taigen sets the ball, Akemi jumping up to smack towards Mizu.

“Here!” Mizu says with a grunt, passing the ball. You then send it flying at Akemi, who throws her arms in front of her face with a yelp causing the ball to shoot right over her head and onto the soft sand. Taigen groans and walks off the court to get a drink of water, Akemi shortly behind him spewing apologies.

“I did it!” You explain, running to Mizu with your hand out for a high five. The tall woman catches your hand pulling you into a tight hug.

“Yeah you did! That was amazing, you need to play with us more.” You guys pull apart and she smiles at you, hands still on your sides and yours around her neck.

“Who won?” Ringo says as he walks up to you guys, covered in water and panting.

“We did!” You exclaim, turning to face the man, arms sliding off Mizu.

“It was all thanks to this pretty girl right here” Mizu says, pulling you into her side by your waist. You smile down at the ground attempting to hide the flush on your face.

“What can I say I learnt from the best” You say shooting Mizu a smile.

“Cmon let’s go, Taigen said loser buys lunch” Mizu pulls away but reaches to grab your hand, leading you to the others

“I DID NOT!” Taigen retorts. You and Mizu both let out a snicker, laughing at the sore loser.

——————

AHHHHHH. I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT. I HAVENT WRITTEN FANFIC IN AGES IM SORRY IF IM RUSTY.

@fanficreader33 THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST. MWAH!

#mizu #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #Mizu fic #mizu x you #bes x reader #bes fanfic #bes fluff

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ragingbookdragon · 1 year

Text

Good In Theory, Better In Practice

Alejandro Vargas x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.8K Warnings: Explicit Language, Sexual Themes

Author's Note: I'm gonna write SMUT soon, aren't I? I can feel it. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Alejandro was no stranger to big eaters. He’d been raised in a large family, had multiple squads, and now ran an entire army—he had seen folks pack away some food. That being said, the 141 seemed to be endless pits for beer and homecooked food. He watched Soap and Price go head-to-head on how many beers they could drink in five minutes, watched as the waitress brought out Ghost’s third plate of steak fajitas, and watched Gaz eat his weight in chorizo and beans. Even he and Rudy didn’t have room enough in their stomachs for that much food. They’d cleared about two plates themselves and more than a few beers before deciding it was best to hold off on more food.

He sat back in his seat, half tempted to unloop his belt and caught the eye of the woman who’d come along with them. It was almost as if she was Ghost and Soap put together, the silence of Ghost in friendly situations and the complete disregard for seriousness like Soap in dire circumstances. Wraith. They called her, a counterpart to Ghost it seemed. Alejandro had observed them in battle. Like a tag-team, they struck in fluid motion, mowing down enemies before they even realized the two had descended upon them. She, like Ghost, had an affinity for knives, but he realized that while the rest of them wore protective gear of all kinds, she only had a vest, kneepads, and a belt. No extra ammo pockets, no safety gear tucked away. Just a tri-edged knife and a carbine slung around her back was all she carried with her. And she was, exactly like a wraith, striking when least expected and gone with a whisper. Hell on heels. Deadly, and strikingly beautiful.

Alejandro gave her a friendly smile and she nodded her head going back to her food. Which is why he was so surprised. Wraith, had put away more food than anyone at the table. And more than a few piña coladas and tequila shots along with it. Yet, she seemed in perfect condition, sober and still hungry. She finished the plate and stood, turning around to the bartender as she said, “Oye, barman, dame dos Modelos, por favor.”

She walked around the table and sat next to Alejandro, propping an elbow in the table as she put her chin on her palm and stared at him; the bartender put the beers in front of them and she took hers, taking a sip of it. “Are you married, Alejandro?”

It reminded him of his sister asking. Ya estás casado, Ale? No te estás volviendo más joven, ya sabes. Necesitas establecerte y casarte con una buena mujer. He gave a humored chuckle and raise the bottle to his lips. “Unfortunately, Wraith, I haven’t had much time to find a wife.” He smiled at her. “What of you? Are you married?”

“Do I look like the type of woman who is married?” she gestured to herself. “I’ve literally eaten five plates of tacos, drank five margaritas, and had at least ten beers.” She blinked, deadpanning, “I outman most men who meet me and they very much so lose interest in me.”

Alejandro laughed. “Debes estar bromeando. Una mujer hermosa como tú tiene que tener muchos admiradores.”

She scoffed. “Beauty means nothing to a man when he feels like his manhood is being challenged.”

“That is because they are not real men,” he said. “Los hombres reales reconocen a las mujeres reales.”

Her eyes narrowed and suddenly Alejandro felt like the temperature had risen a few degrees around them as she finished the rest of her beer and leaned over, pointer finger swirling around the rim of his beer bottle. “And what of the real man before me?” she purred. “Does he recognize a real woman before him?”

He swallowed thickly feeling very fidgety in his seat, as if all eyes were on him. He cast a quick glance around. No one seemed to be listening to them, Price and Soap still going at it with new rounds, Gaz fighting sleep from fullness, and Ghost was in his own world enjoying authentic fajitas. It was just the two of them and he looked back at her; her expression was calm, waiting, so many things he couldn’t decipher hidden underneath the surface, but he saw her eyes. Saw the game in them, the chase, she was the huntress and he, her prey. One misstep and he was done for.

I do recognize you before me.

I want you.

We are as real as each other.

So many thoughts and all he could say was, “My mother would love you.”

Split second, her mask dropped in shock, then laughter peeled from her, shaking her shoulders as she laid her head on his shoulder, burying her face in his bicep and his cheeks reddened as she continued to laugh and pat at his thigh, until she sat up and wiped her eyes; she gave him a fond look and to ease his embarrassment, she said, “I would love to meet your mother.”

Alejandro melted, shoulders drooping as this woman, this Wraith, suddenly became so clear to him. She wasn’t a woman who could outman men (she really was), she was simply a woman. A good woman. The kind of woman he’d always wanted to settle down with. A good, strong woman.

She poked his forehead. “Careful there, amante, you’re gonna burn holes in me.”

“No puedo evitarlo. Haces que mi alma cante como nunca antes lo había hecho.”

“Well, aren’t you just a romantic,” she cooed and stood from her seat, holding out her hand; when he stared at it, she retracted and did it again. “Gonna take it or ya gonna keep staring at it like I’m not offering a dance?” she gave him a look. “Can you dance?”

“I can dance,” he shot back and stood, and she dragged him over to the jukebox in the corner of the bar. “What are we dancing to?”

“You’ll find out,” she murmured, staring at the list of songs before grinning as she shoved a few coins in and punched a button.

Drums echoed through the speakers followed by the strumming of a guitar; “Bailando?” Alejandro smirked. “Te gusta Enrique Iglesias?”

She kept to the beat of the music as they twirled and danced around each other. “I like a lot, Alejandro. Let me stick around and you might learn more.”

He spun her out, pulling her back in and she cocked a leg up around his hips, the hand that had hers dropped to hold her leg there (as if she needed the help), but he couldn’t help but squeeze the meat of her thigh. His free hand landed at her back as she bent backwards, all the way until she was crescent; he pulled her back up until her body was snug against his, lips almost brushing as he confessed, “Nada me encantaría más que te quedaras.”

“I’m not looking around for fun, y’know, Alejandro.”

He cocked her leg higher and stepped back, letting her stretch the step as he did and with dead seriousness, he replied, “Soy un hombre sencillo. No tengo tiempo para jugar ni con mi corazón ni con el tuyo. Sé lo que quiero.” Alejandro had her by her hips. “I want you.”

“Better men have hit their knees, Alejandro. And many men have tried for mine.”

He shook his head. “I will succeed where they have failed.”

“Cocky much?”

Alejandro pulled her up and spun her one last time with the beat, ending the song with one hand under her knee as she bent back again, and when she came up, he purred, “¿Para tu? Para siempre.”

She grinned like a madwoman and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Well, take me to church, I’ve finally found the man who will make a woman out of me.”

“If I make you any more of a woman, you’ll have no need for me.”

“Nonsense,” she muttered with a shake of her head. “I’ll always have a need for you to stand around and drive me wild with lust.”

“So long as I’m always needed, mi reina,” he replied with a grin, tipping forward to kiss her when,

“DAD! WRAITH’S GONNA KISS AN OLDER MAN! STOP HIM!”

They turned to see the entire 141 and half of Alejandro’s soldiers staring at them, half had their phones out. Silence bled the room and Alejandro did the only thing he could think of, bent down, picked her up at her knees and shouted, “Soldados, me voy a casar con esta mujer!”

His group erupted into shouts and the 141 stared in confusion until she said, “We’re gonna get married one day.”

“Tonight, if she lets me,” Alejandro added in.

“Don’t push your luck, handsome.” He looked up at her and she planted her elbows on his shoulders. “Ah, fuck it, Price marry us! I know you got ordained one day!”

“What.” Price blinked, rubbing at his eyes before he turned to Ghost. “Simon. When did this happen?”

Ghost shoved the last of the fajitas in his mouth and said, “They’ve been eye-fucking since we got here. Love at first sight.”

“We’re still here, y’know?” She called out and Ghost looked at her.

“Gonna tell me you haven’t been eye-fucking the Colonel since he shook your hand?” he scoffed. “You’ve been thinking of a way to get him in your pants since.”

“Is this true?” Alejandro asked and she looked down.

“If I say yes and I going to be in trouble?”

“Possibly.”

She waggled her brows and flirted, “Is it the sexy kind of trouble?”

“Yes.”

“Then absolutely, I’ve been trying to get you to fuck me ever since I got here,” she confessed without a lick of shame in her tone, expression, or body. “Wholeheartedly admit it. Can confirm. Aye-aye sir. Take me home, Colonel, do me wherever, however, and how ever long your heart desires.” She lowered her voice and breathed, “As good of a whore as I am in theory, I’m even better in practice.”

His eyes had darkened with every word, and she smirked as he heaved her up and over his shoulder. “Perdónenme hombres, es hora de que nos despidamos por la noche.”

“Aww, but I didn’t get to drink another piña colada,” she whined, yelping when his palm flattened against her ass with a crack. “HEY NOT IN PUBLIC! MY DAD’S HERE!”

Price watched them leave, the soldiers cheering and drinking to the Colonel’s newfound love, and he looked at his men. “Has my not-daughter always been a…” he cleared his throat and made a gesture.

“A whore?” Simon offered and nodded. “Big time. And believe me, I’ve met some. Wraith fits right in.”

Soap leaned over Price. “Watch how you talk about our sister. She can’t help being a whore. It’s who she is.” The two of them snickered as Price started to groan about going wrong somewhere.

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rafesgoldrings · 11 months

Note

omg car sex with rafe in his sexy ass range rover or truck

I’m a slut for the range rover, especially when he’s driving🧎🏼‍♀️ I feel like most of the time, it would be a game for the both of you. Like one of you would tease the other until you couldn’t handle it anymore, whether it was you trailing your hand higher up his thigh until you reached his cock and just resting it there, pulling his cock out and giving him a blowjob, him rubbing your puffy clit before fingering you, just something that would mess with the other. Usually Rafe would be the one to give in first, pulling over somewhere secluded unless you’d really pissed him off. If that was the case he would straight up pull into a parking lot knowing anyone could show up before pulling you into his lap and fucking you. He would tell you to get into the backseat, slapping your ass harshly when you went to do so, before following shortly after. He liked when you wore skirts because it was easier access, but if you weren’t wearing a skirt that day, he’d pull down your pants and rip your underwear off if you even bothered wearing any. He’d pull his pants and boxers down to his ankle before grabbing you harshly and pulling you in his lap, gripping your hips so hard he knew they’d be bruised for days. as his cock slid inside your dripping hole. Your mouth would be slack, eyes screwed shut, and head thrown back. Soft little whines filling the car as he thrusted into you, the tip of his cock hitting your G spot with each snap of his hips. One hand would be wrapped around your throat, pulling you to him for a rough kiss. Teeth and tongue clashing together, the grip on your throat tightening as your looming orgasms inched closer and closer. The windows would be foggy, the car bouncing from the harsh movements, the mixture of skin slapping and noises of pleasure from you both filling the car. When your cunt began clenching around him, sucking him in like a greedy hole, he’d bring his other hand to the bundle of nerves between your legs. Circling it with his thumb and squeezing your throat harder knowing how fucking hard you fall apart when you’re choked that way. Your eyes would roll back in your head, he would attach his lips to your neck to muffle the loud moans coming from him, as you came apart on his cock. You could feel yourself gushing, too euphoric to even be embarrassed, and his seed filling you up so full. You’d ride out your orgasm before resting your forehead to his, feeling his cock soften inside you before you pulled yourself off of him. Whining at the empty feeling and looking at the mess you’d made. Luckily he was almost always wearing darker slacks so your juices weren’t super visible and you were about to go home, but his car seats? They were drenched and you both knew he’d have to go get it cleaned, he loved you. So so much. But his range rover was his baby and he needed her in perfect condition. So later that week, he’d drop it off at the detailing place he always went to and explained that there was a little….incident with his girl and he needed the seats cleaned. Everyone there knew what kind of incident it was and gave him hoots and hollers, smirking at him and congratulating him. He could only smile back in agreement while telling them he was the luckiest man alive.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron smut #asks #rafe cameron imagine

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pristine-rose · 1 year

Text

✧ CLOSE UP, CLICK ME !

⊹ characters : kaveh, baizhu, ayato, childe, kaeya ( separate )

⊹ synopsis : he loves taking good pictures of you [ drabbles ]

⊹ warnings : [ex]plicit, public, photography, slight obsession, modern au ( all )

⊹ female reader (afab, she/ her usage), no y/n usage, not beta read, you can blame my friend for this one

⊹ KAVEH

he’s such a nice guy. so nice, so sweet, everyone thinks so.

no, not that shirt— yes! that color looks so good on you! — well, everyone also think’s he’s such a fashionista. and as your “good friend,” or so he claims, he always loves to see your outfits. send a pic, please! — he’ll keep begging and begging. seemed normal enough, honestly. he’ll just rate your outfits for concerts, for parties, for coffee outings, you name it. and he gave good advice, too. sweet guy, took you shopping many times and hyped you up in the dressing rooms.

would it be cute to wear skimpy clothing? he’ll ask you that a lot because apparently, he certainly thinks so. every time you head to the dressing room at a store he’ll call wait! and add something akin to an incredibly revealing shirt or bottom wear. you’ll try it on — everyone trusts his fashion advice after all. he insists to come in the dressing room with you. ah — to help button zipper up your dresses, of course! and to not waste any time. he laughs these answers off like you’re silly for even asking.

it’s one time when you’re texting him about a concert outfit you’re planning. the tight pink sheer top, he tells you, would be so perfect. you tried it on at the store one time with him but never bought it — you forgot what it looks like. perhaps he had a picture? he says he’ll send it. until he sends… he stumbles in text. ah, he didn’t mean to send that image of you still changing in your undergarments — that was in the store dressing room. um, yeah, he took that by accident, here’s the real picture of the pink top. no, no, he totally doesn’t save all those photos of you.

☁️ —

⊹ BAIZHU

this operating table was so cold, you think to yourself.

hm, i’ve never seen a condition like this before — that was what he said. there’s a curious sting in his voice, but it’s not like you can ever tell. a sharp breath hits your shoulder, and you wince. his aura feels ghostly as you stare up at the doctor’s room ceiling; you’re only in undergarments for this examination. he doesn’t say any more, not even offering up procedures or an explanation. he simply removes his gloves, and he touches you.

his hands pushing down the dips of your collarbone to “check your muscles”; his fingers curving down your waist to “feel for discomfort”; his digits pressing at your thighs to “document skin condition” — you were almost too fearful to move even a centimeter. it’s so silent. you hear him open his mouth again.

allow me to document this for future reference — what? click! and a flash — he quickly apologizes with shaky breaths, apparently he forgot to turn off flash, sorry if that startled you! the camera appears right below your nose to capture your neck, and you feel his fingers grip your chin to tilt it up. click! just one more picture, he promises. the doctor is anything but decent when his hand grips at your thigh and pulls it to the side, and you can practically feel it shaking when he — click! — grins with his camera between your legs.

☁️ —

⊹ AYATO KAMISATO

high end fashion modeling opportunity, you just had to take it.

the ceo is a young man, who would’ve thought. he looks so professional, so modest with his suit to resemble nothing below a gentleman. his smile is simple when he greets you, but they’re tried and almost dead, and you almost can’t see the color in them. he markets for a business-casual clothing vision, and he tells you he “hates small talk,” as he rambles on and on about the most random things while the tailors get you dressed up.

oh, would you like some water? — ah, that color is nice, no, no, the shorter one— what was i saying? he changes topics so fast. it feels weird when he stands back the whole time to scan your body up and down, though maybe this was how it worked…? he doesn’t even hide his eyes landing in certain areas, and he isn’t shy to pick the tighter or shorter option. pencil skirt, strapless high heels, sheer stockings, parted top.

he pulls out his phone to take pictures for, um… his manufacturing team, right, right! he grins so awkwardly when he tells you this. he gets real close to take a picture of the end of your skirt — he quickly says for the material of the stockings and the thickness of the skirt, of course, of course! he takes another picture of the parting slit in your blouse — for length, he laughs it off. he runs a hand across his forehead, he’s sweating. he’s nervously tapping his foot and licking his chapped lips until he excuses himself rather awkwardly, fleeing the room.

☁️ —

⊹ TARTAGLIA

he loves his motorbike so much; calls it his baby. he’s so cringe about it, too. he’s got an instagram account for it.

people like pictures of hot girls with a bike next to them, right? — he laughs it off so loud and casual. dorky, biggest grin on his face, a forever smile even when he picks you up under your arms so easily to put you on the seat of the bike. he just uses his phone to take the pictures. but he’s so so attentive with his bike — kneeling just for good shots and angles. but he’s so loud. calling to arch your back a certain way, to sit with your legs spread on the seat — oh, oh, put your hands at the center to cover yourself!

he wants it flashy, he wants it fun looking. he’s so touchy when he needs a certain shot that he will walk up just to move your body himself. so loud, so handsy — he’ll grab your thighs with his large hands — he’ll say to spread them justttt like that, baby. and immediately afterwards, he’ll compliment you in ways that make you freeze. so so so so touchy, he’ll compliment your hips on the photo and will move just to pat them. he’ll say your back curved so nicely with the bike as he runs his finger down your spine. what a nice guy, is all you think, even when he reaches to press a thumb to your lips when he compliments the color.

when you’re all done, he’s giddy posting it to his instagram. like the pics, like the pics! — his excitement has so much pride. when you scroll through they’re exactly what you expected. all tame, all fun looking, he’s hyping up his bike. he’s grinning wildly in his seat next to you, even when he slides to the left to add a temporary story to promote his new post. and, oh, he quickly excuses himself to use the restroom. maybe it isn’t right, but curiosity kills you to peer over his phone when the instagram options look like wayyy more photos than you actually took. spam pictures — zoom-ins you didn’t even realize he did. photos of the middle of your tight shorts rubbed right against his leather seats. quick snaps of your bra peeking from atop your shirt, your thighs on his bike; you pretend not to look when he comes back all flustered.

☁️ —

⊹ KAEYA ALBERICH

newly hired photographer today. a rookie, they say.

he’s a cool guy. really chill, incredibly relaxed even in a high-end photoshoot like this. he’s not even bothered by the chaos of models running around nude. the brand is known for selling underwear after all, he says every time to just shrug it off. but this is a big celebrity collab — you and the company. apparently he’s a “huge fan” of your modeling.

his shots look stunning, and he’s so cool and confident during the shoot. he keeps saying he’s a really really reallyyyy big fan of yours, and you just have to keep nodding it off. you may no mind when he touches you. moving your arm, pulling out your hips, lifting your chin, parting your thighs — it’s all for the sake of the picture. click! but sometimes, he lingers. sometimes, maybe, he didn’t need to put his hand on your breasts to push them up, or he didn’t need to pull at the bottom hem of your underwear.

when the shoot is done, he rushes out. he’s only seen later with his phone close to his face, eyes glued down to the screen, hand scratching at his stomach. he fumbles when you go up to thank him. oh, oh, he’s just a fan — and he’s so honored to be able to have this opportunity — and he loves your professionalism oh so much! when you reach out your hand to shake his, he drops his phone and it’s the most awkward you’ve ever seen him; especially when the screen is dozens upon dozens of imported photos of you — closeups you didn’t even think he would take of your body during the shoot. he quickly apologizes when he goes to pick it up, shaking your hand though he’s trembling when he even looks at you now.

blame KAIRI for this my no.1 enemy who i hate

#kaveh x reader #childe x reader #baizhu x reader #ayato x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin men x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ajax x reader #tartagalia x reader #genshin men #childe x reader smut #kaeya smut #kaveh smut

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primaviva · 8 months

Text

PAIRING: (primary) gwen stacy x fem!reader, (secondary / onsided romance) harry osborn x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: gwen has liked you for a long time, harry knew this. to gwen's surprise, harry actually liked her for much longer, something she only learned when he confessed and asked her to prom. gwen's rejection hit harry hard. you can imagine gwen's shock when, just as she was about to tell you how she felt and ask to be your date, you revealed that you already had a date. harry osborn.

WARNINGS/NOTES: misunderstandings trope like heavy, a lot of cursing, manipulation on harry’s part, angstyyy, suggestive toward the end, jealous n angry gwen vs sassy man harry, white boys doin too much and not proof read

as summer's hot embrace swept across queens, whispers of anticipation filled the air in midtown high.

the arrival of prom.

the streets adorned themselves with vibrant hues of gold and scarlet, echoing the spirit of the season that gripped the hearts of every new yorker. decorative banners danced in the breeze on campus, proudly displaying the school's emblem as a symbol of community pride. the heat and constant air conditioning mingled with the distant sound of a marching band practicing their lively tunes, weaving a tapestry of nostalgia and excitement for all the locals and alumni.

prom, a cherished tradition to no one but the beckoned who peaked in high school. let’s be real here, what teen beside the tryhard kids trying to form the perfect resume for college genuinely cared for homecoming? nah, not one. the only excitement that came from it was being able to get free food, dress cute, some photo ops with your partner, and just hanging out with your friends. you could technically count the performances by the school bands and dance teams but to be honest all the talent was overshadowed by the patriotic midtown chants praising the school for its community and kindness even though you could’ve swore you saw flash thompson trying to beat on some freshman in the hall the other day.

it’s midtown high… mid is in the name. to be quite honest, you weren’t expecting much. you didn’t even have a date in mind, you just knew you’d end up going with your small friend group consisting of your best friend gwen, peter, and harry.

you were brought back to reality when your teacher pulled an ‘i’ll wait’ on some girl in the front who was just as confused as the rest of the class and was simply asking someone else for help.

as the minutes ticked by in the seemingly endless ap english class, the only escape you found was talking gwen during class to keep you sane.

you leaned towards gwen, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "i feel like i’m trapped in a literary prison. is it just me, or does every sentence, as soon as she opens her mouth, sounds like some philosophy subreddit bullshit?"

gwen stifled a giggle, her eyes sparkling with shared amusement. "oh, trust me, it's not just you. i think i've somehow deciphered the hidden meaning behind every comma in this book. it's like we're on a quest for the nonexistent holy grail of english assignments."

you both burst into a fit of laughter, struggling to contain your amusement while keeping a watchful eye on the teacher. the irony of the situation wasn't lost on you— the passionate exploration of language and literature reduced to a burdensome chore.

however, you couldn’t help but feel a pair of jealous eyes on you. the prickling sensation at your neck coming from the back of the class made you turn your head slightly, and you caught a glimpse of harry's eyes fixed on gwen, his expression tinged with jealousy. his lips pressed together in a tight line as he bit down on them, lost in his thoughts to notice that you caught him looking. he seemed almost irritated at you by the way he stared and to your understanding, for no reason. it’s not like you did any sneak shit behind his back or got on his nerves .

caught in the awkwardness of the moment, harry mustered a teasing smile and gave a nod, as if attempting to play off being caught. the nod was like a silent statement from him to you, that he felt the same way you did in the class. bored as hell.

but beneath the facade, the tension simmered, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper was brewing beneath the surface. questions swirled in your mind, but for now, you chose to let it go and return your focus to gwen.

"this class single handedly ruined how i’ll read for the rest of my life, and you know how much i love to read edgar allen poe," you whispered, barely able to contain your sarcasm.

gwen leaned closer, her voice barely audible. "i swear, if i have to dissect one more sonnet, my brain cells will start killing themselves."

the bell's sudden ring startled both of you, cutting short your whispered complaints and signaling the end of yet another mundane class. you exchanged a knowing look, relief and mischief dancing in both your eyes.

"finally, damn!" you exclaimed under your breath. "let's get out of here before we start speaking in iambic pentameter."

gwen nodded, her lips curled into a smile. "i can't wait another second."

together, you gathered your belongings, trying to suppress the lingering laughter that threatened to bubble. as you made your way towards the door, the teacher's eyes scanned the room, momentarily pausing on your mischievous glances, but quickly moving on.

you were about to respond to her joke when harry osborn approached you two with a slightly hesitant yet determined stride. his sudden interruption caught both of you off guard.

"hey, gwen," harry began, his voice shaky. "can we talk for a minute?"

your curiosity piqued, but you gave gwen an understanding look and assured gwen that you would wait for her at the lockers, giving her a reassuring smile. with a nod, she followed harry to a quieter corner of the hallway, leaving you to be nosy and wonder what the conversation could be about. time seemed to stretch as you leaned against the lockers, the echoes of passing students fading into the background.

minutes turned into an eternity before gwen finally emerged from the conversation, as she walked toward you, you could sense the weight of the conversation hanging in the air. without a word, she shook her head, her eyes filled with unspoken thoughts.

"what did harry want? some chemistry homework answers that been due since last week?" you asked playfully, trying not to make it seem like you were praying for information.

it’s not like you were jealous of harry or envious of him for talking to gwen, you knew where you two stood. but just the way he looked at you? just rubbed you the wrong way. and you couldn't lie and say the curiosity wasn’t killing you as to why he had to pull gwen away from the public to just ‘talk to her.’

gwen's eyes met yours, looking unusually reserved. she hesitated for a moment before responding, her voice barely above a whisper. "it’s nothing, really. he just asked me a stupid question. don’t worry about it."

you left it at that, not wanting to force her into talking about something that was clearly private. you respected her desire to just move on. still, a teasing smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you couldn't resist a teasing remark.

"did he ask you to be his secret prom date?" you quipped, a twinkle of mischief in your eyes.

gwen's face turned pale for a moment before her cheeks flushed slightly as she shook her head, a subtle smile gracing her lips. "no, you couldn’t be farther from the truth. i um… i actually have someone in mind."

you felt your cheeks heat up at her comment, but also a gut wrenching feeling in your stomach. could she be talking about you? no, but then again all the moments where your legs brushed together while you sat, the lingering gazes and stolen looks, her hands on your waist when she guided you through a big crowd, just all the times where the lines between best friend and more became blurred.

however, gwen remained silent, her intentions veiled for now.

you two had similar schedules, so it was everyday you two walked to your classes together. as the two of you made your way to study hall, gwen broke the silence, "wanna share headphones while we work?"

her hand brushed against yours, your breath hitching as you became hyper aware of how close gwen was. you could feel her continue to stare into your eyes as she intertwined her hand with yours. a smile bloomed across your face as you nodded in agreement, unaware of someone else glaring at you from a distance. again.

weeks passed since then. before, prom was less than a month away. now? just days.

you still didn’t have a date. part of you wanted to just go along, not having any interest and anyone besides gwen. but another part of you was still holding onto hope, living in the fantasy world of the imaginary scenarios that she’ll ask you out.

there were doubts in your mind if gwen liked you, and even if you liked her. she’s your friend, best friend even. but your friendship with her is so different from the way you both treat your other friends. you don’t let your other friends call you names, sit on their lap while their hands wrap around your waist, stay up on friday nights and fall asleep on the phone, and so much more. it was more than just the physical attraction you had to gwen, it was the chemistry between you two. you admit, gwen is more than fine. to her tall demeanor and athletic body, and not to mention the hair and piercings. but the way she understood you more than anyone else was the biggest turn on of them all. she can read you like the back of her hand. she knows when you’re sad, when something’s bothering you, when you’re overwhelmed and just want someone to run away with even if it’s temporary.

all year it seemed that you both had been running circles around each other. there was just something different about the way she stared straight into your eyes as you talked about something. or the times where you swear you saw her biting down on her lip as she sneakily checked you out before you could catch her and she’d tell you how pretty you are. the times you would ask her to repeat stuff on the phone because you just loved hearing her voice just to fall asleep to it. the time where she noticed you looked at her while she cleaned her drumsticks and she told you it’s rude to stare. the times where she had no problem sneaking into your home from through your window to comfort you after a fight with your parents.

she felt like your other half and that’s what confused you. everyone talked about their best friend like that, but you and gwen didn’t seem like friends. and you can’t tell anymore if that’s good or bad.

it was clear you were attracted to gwen in more ways than one, but you couldn’t help but be in denial because of your fear that if you did pursue something romantic with her you could possibly ruin your friendship forever, and you couldn’t imagine your life without her.

gwen couldn’t imagine her life without you either, harry knew that first hand. which is why he’s on his way to your place right now.

harry osborn mustered up the courage to confess his feelings to gwen, his heart pounding with anticipation. he found her in the hallway, took a deep breath, and poured out his emotions, confessing his affection and asking her to be his date for the upcoming prom.

"hey, gwen," harry began, his voice filled with a mix of nervousness and determination. "i've been meaning to tell you something... i really like you. you're amazing, talented, and so fearless. i’ve admired you for a while. so, i was wondering if you'd go to prom with me?"

gwen listened attentively, a kind smile on her face that slowly dropped as she kept talking. but before harry could catch his breath, she gently interrupted him.

"harry, look, i appreciate you telling me this and you're such an amazing friend," gwen replied, her soft and cautious. "but, i can’t go with you. i’m sorry it’s just… i actually had something on my mind too for a while. i've been wanting to tell (y/n) how i feel about her for a while now and so i thought prom would be the best excuse. i've just been nervous about it because i don’t want ti ruin anything. you understand, right?"

harry's face fell slightly, his disappointment flickering across his features. he tried his best to hide the bitterness he felt, realizing that gwen's heart was set on someone else.

"oh... i see," harry responded, trying to sound nonchalant. "don’t worry, gwen. i get it. i never caught on that you liked our (y/n), that’s my bad. i'm sure you’ll both have an amazing time at the dance when you ask her."

gwen's expression softened, "thank you, harry. i hope this doesn’t make anything too weird or weirder than it needs to be. friends?"

harry forced a smile, masking his envy as best as he could. "of course, gwen. friends always."

but as gwen turned to leave, harry's mind started to spin. thoughts of revenge began to cloud his judgment.

how could gwen stacy reject him? it was all he could think of. ‘she’s just a cop's daughter’ he thought, balling his hands into a fist.

“hey, could you speed it up?” he pressed the driver, quickly apologizing. “sorry i just… the waiting is killin’ me.”

maybe it was the bitterness fueling his need to boost his own ego, but he still couldn’t wrap his mind around the rejection. all his life, harry was given what he wanted without a second thought from his father or the people around him. it seemed that for the first time he couldn’t have what he wanted and didn't know how to act.

that’s what led him here, to the front of your place. harry pushed open the car door, his oxford shoes hitting the pavement.

“wait for us, will you?” he asked the driver but the tone of his voice made it clear that it was an order.

harry : hey sweets

harry : go look outside your window for me sent at 4:53

you were doing your homework when suddenly you felt a vibration against your desk. you turned your head to the side and noticed your phone lighting up. with a sigh wanting to take a break from working, you picked it up and your eyes went wide as you saw who it was who texted you. part of you hoped it was gwen, but no, it was harry.

the message on your lock screen made you cringe as soon as you saw that he had called you ‘sweets.’

“the hell is this boy on now,” you muttered, swiping up to see the full text in messages.

you : tf you mean look out my window… did you take your daddy’s medicine by any chance ?? sent at 4:55

before you even gave him the chance to reply, you walked up to your window and pushed the curtain to the side. looking down, you were met with the sight of harry typing on his phone before looking up at you with a charming smile.

harry : you wanna come down rapunzel?

you let out a scoff, the sides of your mouth twitching into a smile as you made your way downstairs. you unlocked the door, opening it to be met with harry walking up to you and revealing a beautiful bouquet of assorted flowers to you. it looked expensive and it glowed in the sun.

“don’t tell me those are for me,” you spoke in a whisper, voice caught in your throat from how unexpected this all was.

he smiled, putting the bouquet in my hand as the floral aroma filled my senses. “then i won’t, just take them princess.”

harry knew you were getting weirder out by his behavior just by the way your face had this stank look to it. not like you were disgusted by him or anything, but by how confusing this was.

“what?” he asked with a smirk.

“you’re just acting a lil’ strange is all,” you replied slowly, squeezing the bouquet to your chest and sniffing the assortment. “they smell beautiful harry, thank you. but no offense, why are you outside my home dressed like james dean?”

he did a low chuckle as he looked into your eyes. sure, harry was cute though he wasn’t necessarily your type. and while it is really attractive to have someone dress nice for you, call you sweet things, and even come to your home with flowers, it was just weird. it was just weird. why him?

"just walk with me, please?" harry asked, extending his hand towards you.

“and sight see all the power plants?” you mocked, but seeing the pleasing look on his face made you fold. you hesitated, but ultimately took him up on it.

as you took his hand, you felt his grip tighten, pulling you uncomfortably close. "i'm sure there's a beautiful waterfront or some other scenic spot for us to explore," he said, his voice filled with anticipation.

you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, a mix of skepticism and curiosity flickering in your eyes. despite your reservations, you found yourself drawn to him and his intentions.

“you look beautiful today,” he added, still looking forward as the glow of the sky highlighted his face.

you let out a laugh, causing him to glare at you from the corner of his eye.

“oh harry, you’re so charming, thank you,” you teased, voice monotone to poke fun at his advances.

he let out a chuckle as you both approached the waterfront. golden hour was approaching, and the sky was painted a deep orange with yellow highlights and a beauty exuding from it. the clouds were faint and moved slowly to the side, like careful paint strokes to a canvas.

as you released your hand from harry's, you walked toward the ledge, taking in the awe-inspiring scenery. it felt like a moment of pure magic, as if the world had paused to allow you to appreciate the simple pleasures surrounding you. the gentle caress of the warm breeze, the distant echoes of laughter, and the soothing sound of water rippling in the wind created a serene ambiance.

harry initiated the conversation, breaking the silence. "you've never been here before?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

you met his gaze with a sly smile, “nah, i never have time to do stuff like this. im always busy with my own responsibilities so it doesn’t really cross my mind to do a tinder style long walks down the cigarette infested new york streets and visit all the landscapes.”

harry approached you, leaning against the ledge with a smile playing on his lips. he let out a genuine chuckle, appreciating your sense of humor.

"there's the (y/n) i know," he remarked, his tone filled with affection. "always quick with the sarcasm. it's one of the many things that make you so likable. you have this unique and mysterious charm about you.”

you studied him for a moment, a dry laugh escaping your lips. "secret charm?" you quipped, raising an eyebrow. "i've never really made an effort to talk to anyone, so l'd be surprised if i had any secret admirers.”

“well, allow me to introduce you to one of them,” he said as he took your hand in his and gave it a chest kiss.

harry's expression turned softer, and he took your hand in his, placing a gentle kiss on your palm. his eyes held a glimmer of and a hint of seduction.

"i know we haven't always been the closest, but lately, you've been on my mind. a lot," he confessed, bringing your hand to rest against his chest. "i've admired you from afar, and i've been nervous to be around you. you're not just gorgeous, but smart, witty, and so much more. i can't imagine going to prom with anyone else but you. so, would you honor me by being my date?"

your heart skipped a beat with each word he spoke. shock washed over you, and your face revealed a mix of emotions. while you value your friendship with harry, you didn't share the same romantic feelings. you hesitated, searching for the right words to convey your thoughts.

but something about it was off. while his words seemed genuine and soft, his eyes told a different story. they were dark and deceptive, gleaming with an unsettling intensity. it sent a shiver down your spine, making you question his true intentions. the way he stared at you felt predatory, like he was sizing you up, waiting for the opportune moment to strike at his prey. it created an alarming imbalance of power, as if he was counting on something beyond your control.

"harry," you began, your voice gentle but firm. “i’m really sorry for this but i don’t see you that way. i’m flattered but you have to understand… there are other girls that would love to go with you. you’re a heartthrob, y’know? you can get anyone with your appeal. it’s just that i’ve liked gwen for a while and have been waiting for something to happen but-“

“it seems i really can’t get anyone, (y/n),” he spat out in anger. harry's demeanor shifted, his face contorting with anger. he turned slightly away from you, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to regain composure. his tone dripped with bitterness as he spoke. “gwen huh? always gwen, isn’t it?”

“what?” you mouthed in confusion.

"you really think gwen would ever ask you to prom? better yet, you think she likes you?" he sneered, closing the distance between you until your chests almost touched.

“get outta my face, i’m leaving,” you demanded, frustration welling up inside you as you pushed against his chest, trying to create some distance. “harry, fuck off of me.”

but harry's arms held you firmly in place, preventing your escape. his voice took on a mocking tone as he continued to belittle you.

"gwen already has a date. some kid named miles from out of town. she's been talking to him for a while now," he informed you, his words hitting you like a blow. "she doesn't want you, never has. she's just being nice, pretending to be your friend. so i don’t know when or how you tricked yourself into thinking she has any interest in you."

your world seemed to crumble around you, a sickening feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. your legs grew weak, and you struggled to maintain your composure. tears welled up in your eyes, and you wiped them away, attempting to regain your composure before facing him.

“i know, it’s hard to hear. and she’s a fool for ever letting a girl like you slip away,” he continued, his tone shifting once again. "but you deserve better, (y/n). gwen is a selfish coward who only goes after what she wants with no regard for others. you deserve someone who appreciates you. someone like me. let me show you how you should be treated."

you took a step back, turning away from him, your hand instinctively covering your mouth. the tears flowed freely now, and a sense of disbelief washed over you. had you been deluding yourself all this time? was there truly no spark between you and gwen?

a forced smile played on your lips as you turned to face harry again, your entire demeanor transformed. it was as if a switch had been flipped, and you presented a facade that masked your true emotions.

"i'd love to go with you," you spoke weakly, your voice devoid of its usual strength. though you didn't reciprocate his feelings, you wanted a distraction. maybe he could give you the attention he claimed you deserved.

a wide, unsettling smile spread across harry's face, his expression taking on an eerie quality. it was a smile that sent shivers down your spine, as if there was something unsettling behind it. you couldn't shake off the feeling that his happiness wasn't truly about you saying yes.

"i'm glad," he replied, pulling you closer to his side. "let's get you home."

as you made your way back home with harry, the atmosphere became increasingly tense. the once-pleasant and work filled evening had transformed into an uncomfortable walk home. harry's grip on your arm tightened, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully.

you attempted to break the silence, hoping to alleviate the mounting unease. "so, what are we gonna wear? have you thought about it?"

harry's response was curt and lacking his usual warmth. "i have a few ideas in mind. we'll figure it out."

you couldn't help but notice the change in his demeanor, his friendly and charismatic personality replaced by something cold and distant. doubts and concerns swirled in your mind, but you couldn't find the energy to voice them. instead, you kept quiet, unsure of how to navigate this unfamiliar territory.

upon reaching your house, you turned to face harry, attempting to gauge his mood. "thanks for walking me home," you told him, your voice laced with uncertainty. "i'll see you at school tomorrow."

harry's eyes bore into yours, his gaze intense and unsettling. "no need to thank me," he replied with a slight sneer. "i'll be seeing a lot more of you from now on."

confusion washed over you as you watched him walk away, his figure disappearing into the night. something was undeniably wrong, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of impending danger. you retreated into your home, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders.

you went into your room and just jumped into your bed and before you knew it your eyes were wet and you blacked out.

it was saturday morning, and the events of the previous night were a blur in your memory. as you rubbed your eyes and sat up in bed, you glanced down at your clothes, and suddenly, it all came rushing back. you had spent the entire night looking over old photos of you and gwen, shedding tears, before finally succumbing to exhaustion and taking a hot shower to soothe your emotions.

your face felt tight and slightly flushed as you made your way to the mirror. you examined your reflection, noticing the lingering redness in your eyes and the puffiness of your cheeks. even your voice seemed affected, carrying a hint of strain from the relentless sobbing that had consumed you.

it wasn't the news itself that hurt you. it was fine if gwen didn't have romantic feelings for you because it’s not like you’re entitled to her. if anything, you found relief in knowing that your friendship could still remain intact. but the way harry had delivered it to you was harsh and blunt, forcing you to confront things you hadn't even considered before.

to realize that gwen may have never seen you in a romantic light, not even once, left you feeling foolish. the most humiliating part was the possibility of misreading every interaction, every gesture, and every shared moment. and to learn from harry of all people that she had someone else all along made you question how long she had been interested in miles without ever mentioning it to you. although you had heard his name mentioned a few times, it had never crossed your mind that gwen had feelings for him. and it definitely didn’t cross your mind that they had been talking as of recently.

your phone began to ring, causing a pang of agony to surge through you. "please, let it be a scam call," you silently pleaded, yearning for a moment of solitude to process your thoughts.

reluctantly, you picked up the phone and turned it around to see the caller's identity. it was gwen. you felt conflicted as your stomach began to turn once again. on one hand, you longed to talk to her, driven by the depth of your feelings. but on the other hand, the internal embarrassment you felt made you want to avoid her at all costs.

summoning your courage, you swiped to answer the call. "hi," you whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to conceal any cracks.

there was a brief silence on the other end, and then gwen spoke with concern in her voice. "(y/n), are you okay? i tried texting you last night, but you didn't respond," she questioned.

"oh, um, yeah. i've just been having sleepless nights, so i went to bed early," you explained, attempting to brush off the previous night's emotional turmoil. "sorry bout’ that."

"are you sure everything's alright? it sounds like you've been crying," she pressed, genuine worry coloring her words. "if you need someone to talk to or if you want me to come over, just let me know. i’ll be there.”

"i'm fine. i wasn't crying, i literally just mentioned being tired," you replied, irritation seeping into your tone.

"i just want you to be honest with me. can i still come over? i have something i want to tell you," she mustered the courage to ask.

this was gwen's moment. she had been gathering her strength to speak to you about for so long, and now she was ready to make her request.

"yeah, sure. actually, i have something to tell you too," you added, your voice steadier now.

“okay, great- i mean good. i’ll see you later, okay?” she spoke, her voice cheery but a little nervous.

“see you later,” you replied, repeating it back to her as you hung up.

hours had past and it had only made you more anxious. what did she want to tell you? why wasn’t she here already?

you had already changed your clothes and fixed up your appearance to make yourself more presentable. you made sure to put some concealer under your eyes too to try and draw attention away from the puffiness and fading redness.

the knock at your door gave you a temporary relief from the anxiety of your mind as you went to go open it and greet gwen.

“hey,” she greeted, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you into a hug.

you hesitated for a moment, but you couldn’t resist the need to feel her touch. you wrapped your arms around her neck and pulled her closer. there was something so comforting about her touch and gentleness. you both pulled back as gwen stared deeply into your eyes. her hands drifted from the sides of your waist to the small of your back as both your eyes flicked over each other's features.

“are you gonna raid my fridge or wanna go straight to my room?” you asked, teasing her as you broke the unspoken tension between you two.

she giggled as a smirk appeared on her lips. she gave your back a gentle slap, “hey! and no thank you, i actually wanted to come talk to you about something that’s been on my mind,” she confessed.

“oh okay,” you said silently, leading her to your room.

gwen made herself comfortable as she plopped herself on your bed. she manspreaded her legs as she threw her head back against your wall, giving you a glimpse of her faint adam's apple before looking down at you. her hair had gotten longer since she shaved the sides, turning it into more of an undercut now as it framed her face beautifully. it was moments like these you remembered that gwen had equally good looks to match her personality. god, she was so breathtaking. her outfit was an oversized band hoodie that overlapped the tied flannel shirt around your waist, paired with black leggings and her signature teal converse.

"do you always have to take up all the space in my bed?" you asked, a hint of sarcasm in your voice as you placed your hands on your hips.

gwen responded with a playful groan, accompanied by a mischievous look. "oh please, there's plenty of room," she retorted, patting the empty space next to her, inviting you to join.

taking a deep breath, you couldn't resist the playful banter, and you sat down next to her, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"so?" you prompted, your voice filled with anticipation, hoping she would take the lead in the conversation.

gwen's hesitation lingered in the air, her gaze momentarily shifting away as she gathered her thoughts. "i don't know... i've been wanting to tell you this for a while now, and, well, with prom coming up..."

before she could continue, you blurted out your own news, interrupting her. "harry asked me to prom."

the sudden interruption hung in the air, momentarily breaking the flow of the conversation. the nervous smile on gwen's face dropped immediately, and she sat up, her eyes locked onto yours with intensity.

"he what?" she questioned, her voice low and raspy, almost demanding you to repeat yourself.

"harry came here yesterday with flowers and asked me to be his prom date," you explained, sensing gwen's anger starting to simmer.

"(y/n), are you being serious with me right now?" she asked again, slowly rising from the bed as her anger began to surface.

"why the hell would i make any of this up, gwen?" you responded, a touch of frustration in your voice. "he said that he's liked me for a long time and that all he's been thinking about is asking me to prom."

gwen was in shock. anger fueled her thoughts toward harry. could he really be plotting revenge against her like this? was it possible that he would go to such lengths?

"do you think you're the first person he's told that to? he's not what you think," gwen told you firmly, her voice tinged with hurt and anger.

your irritation grew. you couldn't understand why gwen was so angry when she already had a date.

"really? so what is he then?" you questioned, your voice matching her intensity as you stood up to meet her gaze.

"i'll tell you this, he isn't the damn saint you're making him out to be!" gwen exclaimed, her anger palpable. "he's an actor, and if he's got you so hooked with a ten-minute performance, he's probably next in line for an oscar."

you scoffed at her frustration. "you have no business being mad at me for this when you already have your own date. do you want to have your cake and eat it too? because i'm sorry to tell you this, but that's not gonna slide with me. i'm allowed to have fun and talk to whoever i want," you declared, standing your ground.

gwen's eyes furrowed, and she put a hand over her mouth, taking a deep exhale before turning back to you.

"what date? what the hell are you talking about?" she hastily asked.

"don't play with me, gwen. i heard about you and miles. if it's not supposed to be a secret, then why didn't you mention it at all?" you raised your voice, frustration evident.

confusion etched over gwen's face. "did obnoxious osborn tell you this? because it's all bullshit, and he's talking out of his ass. he's literally known for being a heartthrob and making out with random girls in our class under the bleachers. come on, you know better than this," she explained, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and concern.

“i said don’t play with me, i’m not here to listen to you act childish and sound like a psycho tryna rhyme his name with the first words you can think of from a kids vocab book,” you yellee, quicklime calming yourself down.

you took a deep breath, ready to finish this.

"do i know better?" you repeated, stepping closer to her. "you're always disappearing randomly and refusing to open up about it. you act one way and then another, and you give me so many mixed signals that i've had enough of it!"

it felt like everything was falling apart, like a chaotic mess that couldn't be unraveled. after years of friendship, it was collapsing before your eyes like dominoes.

"i can't talk about it, okay? i have my own stuff, and you've never pressed me to tell you anything about that, so i know that’s not the real reason you’re upset," gwen argued back, her voice strained. "the mixed signals are what i came here to talk to you about, (y/n). i... i don't want to be friends with you anymore!" she admitted, her vulnerability showing through.

the room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air. you took a couple of steps back, feeling the ground shift beneath you. is this what harry was talking about? no, you knew better than to trust him over gwen. but in this moment of vulnerability, the conflicting information dragged you in two different directions. was it true that she didn't want to be friends with you, as harry had tried to convince you, or did she see it entirely differently?

gwen put her hands over her face, gripping her hair out of frustration. she tried to step forward, reaching a hand out to you, but you refused, holding your ground.

"shit... (y/n), i didn't mean for it to come out like that," she attempted to explain, her voice choked with tears as she realized the intensity of the situation.

"leave," you told her, your voice stern and harsh.

"what? you can't be serious," she pleaded. "you don't seriously choose his word over mine, do you?"

"no! i just- i just can't do this right now, and i need you to leave," you replied, your voice filled with a mix of pain and frustration.

the room fell into an uneasy silence as gwen stared at you, her eyes wide reflecting her disbelief. slowly, she walked past you, tears streaming down her face as she looked down to avoid your gaze, and left without saying another word.

as the door closed behind her, you sank to the floor, feeling a heavy emptiness settle in your chest. the weight of the broken friendship added a weight onto you, and you couldn't help but question whether things could ever be the same again.

"you told her you didn't want to be friends anymore?" peter asked in disbelief as he leaned against a nearby locker, his eyes fixed on gwen.

gwen let out a frustrated sigh as she slammed her locker shut after putting her books inside, resting her back against it. "i didn't mean it like that, peter. i was just caught off guard. and to make matters worse, harry sabotaged everything," she explained, running her hands through her hair in frustration. "i never even saw it coming.

peter stepped beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "you know (y/n), gwen. she's smart and strong. she won't let harry manipulate her, and deep down, i think you know she doesn't have any real interest in him," he reassured her, urging her to have faith in your judgment.

gwen nodded, her eyes closing shut as she palmed her face. "i know, it's just... the thought of her with harry makes me physically sick," she admitted,

the image of you with someone else haunted gwen's thoughts. and knowing the person was harry, who didn’t even love or care for you, made it so much worse. she knew he could never love you the way she does. he was merely using you as a pawn in his little game, and it infuriated her that you were dragged into this one-sided fight.

"speak of the devil," peter muttered, gesturing for gwen to look down the hallway.

her eyes landed on you, engaged in a casual conversation with your friend liz allen. that was normal, but what wasn't normal was harry by your side, holding your hand as you strolled confidently down the hallway together. gwen's heart sank as she felt her tongue press against the inside of her cheek. he noticed her gaze and it only made his smirk grow.

“i'm gonna go with liz. see you later," you said to harry before walking away, leaving him with a warm smile

on his face.

"i'ii catch up with you later, baby," he replied, his tone affectionate as you disappeared into a nearby classroom.

gwen winced at the nickname, her inner cheek now bearing the marks of her biting down on it. she let out a deep sigh, her eyes still fixed on harry as he made his way over to her and peter.

"why the long face? the frown doesn't suit you," he taunted, trying to provoke a reaction from gwen.

and it worked.

gwen's frustration boiled over, and without hesitation, she grabbed harry by the collar and pushed him up against the wall, surprising him with her sudden burst of anger. the unexpected aggression caught harry off guard, eliciting a loud grunt from him.

"gwen, wait!" peter called out, attempting to intervene and calm her down.

“she’s not just some toy you can pick up and play with until you don’t need her anymore. she has nothing to do this with and you're seriously pathetic for going this low by dragging her into this just to get back at me,” gwen asserted.

harry let out a mocking laugh, trying to mask his surprise. he carefully chose his words, well aware that the hallways were empty at this time.

“but toys are meant to be played with by definition,” he said, his voice dripping with coldness. “does it make you mad when you see her with me? when i get to touch her the way you’ve wanted for so long and you couldn’t? you call me pathetic, but you couldn't even gather the courage to tell her how you feel. holding her hand made you shy away like a little girl," he retorted.

gwen yanked him forward before forcefully slamming him back into the wall. her eyes blazed with fierce determination. "you are the embodiment of pathetic, harry. this whole mess started because i don't like you, and guess what? that hasn't changed. you believe yourself to be sophisticated and superior to everyone else, but all you do is push others down to get yourself where you want to go. you disguise it behind the glamor and the clothes but behind it you’re just a lowlife with no real friends. you aren’t entitled to anybody or anything. and i guess since you’ve been spoiled all your life it’s up to me to teach you that no amount of money or charm will buy you dignity.”

taking a deep breath, gwen eased her grip on his collar, releasing him from her hold. “you think life is one big party and people are just trends you can skip over, but mark my words, you’re in for a rude awakening,” she stated.

"and what are you going to do?" he jeered, mocking her. what could she possibly do to free herself from the drama harry has ensnared her in, purely for his own sadistic pleasure of watching her life crumble?

"you'll see. but next time you dare to pull a stunt like this, remember who you're messing with," she warned, giving harry a menacing glare as she walked away, accompanied by peter.

gwen wouldn’t let harry get away with this. to her, this wasn’t about revenge, this was about you. this was about her doing right by you and treating you how you truly deserved to be treated. she was going to make sure you know exactly how she feels.

the day of prom had arrived, and the anticipation weighed heavily on your shoulders. it was evident that harry's focus lay not in the outfits you both wore, but rather in the desire to be seen with you. perhaps he aimed to stoke gwen's jealousy, to make her realize what she couldn't have.

as you slipped into your dress, its flattering silhouette accentuating your figure with an open back and slit, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. the night you once eagerly anticipated now loomed before you with apprehension. the fallout between you and gwen had left a void, and the lack of communication had extended to peter as well. the thought of addressing the situation felt overwhelming, so you chose the path of avoidance, despite knowing deep down that it may not have been the wisest decision.

occasional conversations with peter only served to reinforce your initial doubts about harry. he told you that he was acting sketchy, his fight with gwen, and you also shared with him the things harry had told you in his little speech. you acknowledged the validity of those doubts, but a part of you couldn't help but harbor anger towards gwen. you longed for her to take the initiative, to approach you and express her true feelings. while you understood her struggle with vocalizing emotions, the prolonged silence of unspoken words and the feeling of being strung along intensified the tension between you. it was a painful realization that your feelings for gwen had no sign of fading away soon, yet they seemed to have no chance to blossom into something more either. the stagnation gnawed at your heart.

the internal conflict in your mind tormented you, a battle between your desire for gwen's love and the frustration of her fears.

as you stood in front of the mirror, the anxiety of the night filled the air. the sound of a car pulling up outside your home signaled the arrival of harry, who had graciously offered to be your escort for the evening.

taking a deep breath, you gathered your courage and made your way downstairs to meet harry. as you opened the door, he greeted you with a charming smile, his eyes momentarily flickering up and down your body.

“aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” harry stated as he leaned against your door frame. he wore all black which included his blazer and khaki’s, but instead of a button up he fancied himself in a matching black turtleneck. his shoes were equally dark oxford’s that he sported casually.

“who are you, someone’s grandpa?” you asked as a harsh tease.

all he did was chuckle in response, not sensing your bitterness toward him.

"ready for a night to remember?" harry asked, extending his hand to you.

you hesitated for a moment, torn between your heart and your mind. yet, you were in too deep and it felt all you could do now was seize the opportunity to make the best of your prom. you took harry's hand, allowing him to lead you towards the awaiting car.

stepping inside, you were immediately enveloped in luxury. the plush leather seats and the soft ambiance of the car created an atmosphere of opulence. as the vehicle glided through the city streets, you couldn't help but marvel at the passing lights and how beautiful new york looked transformed by the night sky.

you glanced absentmindedly at the raindrops trickling down the window, seeking solace in the gentle rhythm of the drizzle. it acted as a soothing distraction from the swirling thoughts that occupied your mind, thoughts that revolved around one person in particular— gwen.

harry, perceptive as ever, sensed the weight of your emotions.

"you know you made the right decision," he remarked as he edged closer to you, his voice having an untruthful undertone.

you gave him a glare from the side of your eye before turning to face him.

“why do you say that?” you questioned, growing frustrated with everything.

"well, with gwen, you would've never reached this point," he responded simply.

his words stung, it was a bitter realization, one that left a sour taste in your mouth.

a wry smile played on harry's lips as he reached out to adjust the corsage he had bestowed upon you, an accessory chosen not out of admiration, but as a symbol of his possession over you.

harry sensed your conflicted state and attempted to try and ease you up.

"i may have attended plenty of lavish events in this car since i was young," harry continued, a faint shadow of a smile dancing on his lips. "but tonight... tonight feels different with you."

the words echoed hollowly, devoid of the genuine emotions you had secretly yearned for. they were a stark reminder that beneath the glittering facade, harry's intentions were far from pure. you didn’t respond, instead you chose to nod at his words as you recognized you were near the school.

"here we are, mr. osborn," the driver announced, interrupting the tense atmosphere.

harry's face lit up with a triumphant gleam as he turned toward you, extending his hand. reluctantly, you accepted his hand, stepping out of the car, the light raindrops falling around you like a somber symphony. as you made your way towards the entrance, you steeled yourself, preparing yourself for whatever mess that you knew you were about to get into.

as you stepped into the prom venue, a wave of excitement washed over you. the energy was electrifying, with music bouncing off the walls and vibrant lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the room. the once crappy gym had been transformed into a breathtaking space, adorned with elegant decorations that made the room look so enchanting and full of life.

the makeshift dance floor was enticing, its polished surface gleaming invitingly under the soft glow of the overhead chandeliers. couples twirled gracefully, their movements synchronized with the rhythm of the music. laughter filled the air as friends greeted each other and took pictures.

the walls were adorned with cascading drapes and shimmering streamers, creating a whimsical backdrop. tables were meticulously arranged, adorned with centerpieces of flowers and flickering candles, adding a special touch to the scene. everywhere you looked, the place was alive.

the dj stationed at the center of the room skillfully curated a playlist that blended popular hits and timeless classics. the beats throbbed through the speakers, encouraging everyone to take to the dance floor and lose themselves into the night.

as you made your way further into the so-called venue, you caught glimpses of friends and classmates as they passed by. yet, still no sight of gwen.

as the hours ticked by, you found yourself consumed by an unexplainable longing to see her. the mere thought of seeing her again stirred a whirlwind of emotions within you, leaving you restless on the dance floor and yearning for her presence.

throughout the night, you caught fleeting glimpses of her, mere fragments that left you wanting more. your attention was drawn to the distinct elements that composed her captivating image. her hair, cascading in waves, held a hint of mystery, teasing you with its untamed elegance. the sight of her donning a black leather jacket ignited a sense of rebellious allure, adding an edgy touch to her.

your eyes traced the contours of her neck adorned with a black choker, layered with multiple necklaces, each one a reflection of her individuality. beneath the jacket, a pink dress peeked through, its front short and the back long, while a layer of dark purple added on top.

black knee-length tights hugged her legs and as your gaze descended, you couldn't help but notice the black boots that completed her look.

as you swayed to the music, engrossed in conversation with your friends, harry slipped out of your view, claiming he was going to fetch drinks for the two of you. he made his way to the drink table, where an array of drinks and desserts awaited.

with a hint of mischief, harry muttered to gwen, "oh, don't mind me, just getting a drink for me and my girl." he poured two glasses, a calculated move to incite a sense of jealousy, knowing that gwen had been watching your interactions throughout the night, longing to be the one by your side. “enjoying the night, hannah montana?”

gwen, determined not to let harry's words affect her, initially brushed off his comment. however, his persistent needling proved too much to ignore. "wow, that was the funniest thing you've said yet! you deserve some applause for that one," she retorted sarcastically, her hands mockingly clapping for his attempt at humor.

he smirked watching her get riled up as he took it upon himself to stand next to gwen. he moved closer to her side, leaning in to speak softly into her ear. “sad to think that you thought you’d have the last word in this all, gwen. after this it’s off to college. you really messed up your chances. not even just with (y/n), but with me. we could’ve had something, but you only really care about yourself, huh?” he turned around fully, holding his two drinks ready to leave. “this is it. i have the last word.”

that was enough to do it for gwen.

gwen reached her breaking point. the music slowed down, the dj's announcement filling the air, urging everyone to bring their partners to the dance floor. the crowd surged, people jostling for space, with a few girls even approaching harry for a quick dance, eager to bask in his wealth and fuel his ego.

this was her time.

"hey, we need to talk," gwen said, her grip tight as she grabbed your arm. startled, you looked up at her, surprised to see her so close, determination evident in her eyes.

"yeah, we do," you agreed, allowing her to hurriedly guide you both outside, away from prying eyes and the bustling prom.

as you stepped into the open, the light drizzle that had fallen earlier transformed into a gentle rain shower. the lobby glistened with moisture, and a soft breeze rustled through the nearby trees. gwen's hand tightened around yours, helping you stay stable amidst the slippery ground.

"gwen," you called out, tone laced with concern, but she continued walking, leading you to a secluded spot beside the school lobby. "gwen, enough! you need to talk too," you exclaimed, feeling the urgency mounting within you.

she paused, her hand covering her face momentarily, trying to rein in her frustration. "i need to talk? you didn't even let me explain myself last time, and then i saw you here with him," gwen said, her words pouring out rapidly as she fought to control her emotions. "but that's not why i wanted to talk to you now. look, harry asked me to the prom, and i said no... because i had planned to ask you," she revealed.

your eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and realization washing over you. you had suspected harry hadn't been entirely truthful, but the revelation that gwen had intended to ask you left you speechless.

"what?" you mouthed, struggling to find the right words. "so when you came to my house?" you managed to ask, your voice trembling.

"yes! i was going to ask you," gwen affirmed, feeling relief as you finally began to understand. "i love you, (y/n). you've been my best friend, but i've fallen in love with you. i've been losing sleep over it. you're always there for me, understanding in ways i've never experienced before, and it scares me. i didn't want to tell you because i didn't want to risk losing what we have. the thought of you saying no and jeopardizing our friendship stressed me out so much. i would have rather kept my feelings hidden if it meant i could still have you in my life. but now, i just want to face my fears and say, 'screw it,' because i meant every word that i told you when i went to see you. i don't want to be just your friend anymore, i want to be more."

a silence settled between you, interrupted only by the sound of raindrops cascading down gwen's jacket. tears welled up in your eyes as her words pierced through your heart.

"you like me?" you simply asked, your voice almost breaking.

"more than like," she chuckled softly, running a hand through her hair. "you have no idea."

slowly, you closed the distance between you, your fingers fidgeting with the corsage on your wrist. "i like you too, gwen. love, even," you confessed. "i felt so foolish, thinking there might be something between us. part of me believed it was all in my head, and then harry started messing with me, planting doubts that you would never be interested. it hit me hard, and that's why i went with him. i felt trapped, but i also wanted to see your reaction."

gwen's smile grew, and she gently placed her hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "you wanted to see if i'd get jealous?" she inquired, curiosity dancing in her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips.

"yeah, i guess... i felt this thing between us at times, and it made me overthink. i thought that maybe, if you saw me with someone else, you would speak up. and if you didn't, well, it would be a win-win because at least i'd still have a date," you admitted, your voice tinged with regret. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have treated you like this. i just get overwhelmed and scared when i don't think things are gonna work out, so i just avoided it all outta fear."

"don't apologize. both of us got caught up in harry's stupid revenge scheme," gwen said softly, her thumb gently caressing your knuckles.

in the quietude that enveloped you both, you found yourselves staring into each other's eyes. the moonlight filtered through the dark night sky, casting a soft glow upon gwen's features. she looked effortlessly beautiful, her blue eyes sparkling, and her hair framing her face. up close, you noticed the delicate touch of makeup—a rosy red on her lips and smokey eyeshadow with a hint of blue.

before you could fully comprehend your own actions, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss upon her lips. it was too quick for her to kiss back.

her eyes widened in shock and you felt her gasp against your lips. with the unspoken tension broken, there was no more denying the feelings that had been building between the two of you.

suddenly, gwen’s lips crashed against yours as her hands moved to grip your waist and hold you close. she melted into you, a moan escaping her lips as she pressed herself

against you and kissed you hungrily. the electricity between the two of you surrounded you, a silent understanding passing between you that changed the dynamic of friendship was changed forever.

gwen parted her lips away from yours as they brushed up against each other in the small distance.

her eyes softened, her gaze searching yours. "you deserve better," she said, her voice filled with conviction. "and i want to be the one who shows you that."

her hands massaged up and down your torso gently as your arms found their way around her neck. “you are better,” you whispered to her.

it was like you and a magnetism to you that gwen couldn’t fight as your words encouraged her to kiss you again. it was like a switch was flipped inside gwen. she'd never experienced something so electrifying before. feeling your lips against hers was pure passion. her heart raced with excitement as she let herself be swept along in the moment. when your lips met hers and your mouths filled with the taste of the other, gwen felt there was no more room for hesitation now, and the two of you were lost in an incredible kiss that couldn't be stopped.

"you don't need this anymore," gwen's voice came out in a hoarse whisper as she reached for the corsage on your wrist, the one harry had given you. her eyes lingered on the delicate blooms, appreciating their beauty for a fleeting moment. then, in one swift motion, she tore the corsage clean off your hand, her grip firm and unwavering. the force with which she removed it almost stung. gwen flung it far behind you, casting it away.

gwen pushed you lightly into a nearby wall, her hand cupping the back of your head so you wouldn’t get hurt by the impact. she wanted nothing more than to feel you against her, to have your arms wrapped around her as you kissed her again and again. her heart was starting to beat in her chest, and you could feel her breathing quicken.

but still gazing intently into your eyes and keeping her lips inches from your own, gwen briefly backed away. "i think harry's an idiot," she purred, her tone dripping with confidence.

she pulled you close again, her body pressed against yours as if she was trying to collide with you. "he doesn't know anything about you. you're the most amazing, incredible, sweet, adorable..." she paused, her heart racing. "perfect."

a drop of water landed on her nose and slid down her face, causing her to giggle. her radiant smile illuminated the moment, casting a spell of enchantment.

the weight of her words settled upon you, leaving you blissfully captivated. "perfect?" you repeated.

“so perfect, you don’t even have to try,” she replied, her eyes softening as she sees how flustered you get.

gwen leaned in and nibbled your lower lip as she bit the bottom teasingly, just to see how you'd react. "mmm, " she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut as she pressed her lips against yours again. you felt her lick on your lower lip as she cocked her head to the side to deepen the kiss. your body trembled as gwen's tongue pressed into your mouth. her hands reached out and drew you closer as she gently slipped past your playful resistance and explored your mouth.

her eyelids drifted shut as your tongue stroked hers. this was heaven for her, and your moans were like music to her ears. she ran her hand through your hair, her fingers gently brushing against the back of your neck as she continued to kiss you deeply and passionately. you could feel her other hand running slowly down your back, her fingertips gently trailing your spine. her kisses grew more frantic, her breathing becoming more rapid. all she wanted was you.

gwen felt your cool, plush thighs clamp around her leg as she slid it up between yours through the opening in your dress. her hands slid down your body, one moving past your legs and coming to rest on your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze as she began to knead at your skin while the other put a firm hand on your hips. you winced at the sensation of her hand rubbing between your thighs as the opposite hand pushed you down onto her leg. in all the excitement, she had pushed herself closer, now grinding against you as she tried to find some sense of relief.

with the rain, the kiss became even sloppier. your mascara started to drip and streak, and you could feel it on your lashes. your and gwen's lipsticks ended up mixing and smearing up against each other as you were both kissing. gwen broke away from your mouth and started laying a trail of kisses down your jaw, leaving faint red lip prints in their wake. her red rose tinted lipstick was now much more faint and messy around her lips.

gwen lowered her mouth to your neck and began lightly sucking and nibbling. you almost went weak in the knees from the stimulating sensation caused by her lips leaving open mouth kisses on the surface of your skin that reached your collarbone and the curve of your breasts.

“(y/n)?” you heard a voice call.

shit, it was harry.

“(y/n), are you out here?” he called out once more.

gwen lifted herself off your neck and straightened herself as she glanced up at you with half-lidded eyes. peering from behind the wall that offered a semblance of concealment, you saw harry discovering the discarded corsage gwen had ripped off your wrist. he knelt down, his gaze fixated on it.

gwen's eyes met yours, a mischievous glint dancing within them. despite your scolding look, she leaned closer to you, undeterred by the risk of being overheard.

"he's going to hear us, gwen," you warned, aware of the potential consequences.

"so?" she replied, a hint of defiance in her voice. "unless you care, because i don't. let him hear."

her audacity caught you off guard, your face flushing as she returned to your neck, this time biting down hard on your skin as you felt the blood rush to the concentrated spots. you were sure they were gonna bruise and turn purple later.

“gwen!” you gasped loud, quickly covering your mouth to muffle her name. she went on, and her unexpected senses caught you off guard.

you made every effort to make sure you weren't too loud for harry to hear, but it was difficult to keep your whines under control.

but gwen knew. when he heard mysterious noises, noticed your discarded corsage, and realized he hadn't seen her go back inside, gwen knew he was aware based on the way she noticed in the corner of her eye how his face twisted. he ultimately stood up and turned around as he headed back inside.

with a soft pop, gwen pulled away from your neck. she stared attentively at you as you were breathing heavily against the wall. it was a gaze that held the power to captivate, like a masterful musician surveying their latest composition. in that moment, you felt like a canvas, waiting to be explored and transformed by her artistic touch.

“perfect and beautiful,” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. “i’ve wanted to do that for so long- not the makeout and hickey thing. i mean, don’t get me wrong, i enjoyed it even if it moved a little fast but uh… the kiss part. i wanted to kiss you for a while to see how it felt.”

even though gwen was touching you and whispering sweet nothings in your ear with complete confidence, you grinned at how nervous she had become. wrapping your arms around yourself, you shivered slightly, the rain casting a chill upon you.

“you’re cold? hold on,” gwen's concern was immediate as she swiftly removed her leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders. “here, much better than getting hypothermia.”

you chuckled at her teasing as you felt her cheeks heat up. "thank you," you whispered, hugging her briefly.

she smiled down at you, admiring how you looked in her clothes. "no need to thank me. you look stunning in it," she complimented, a mischievous smirk gracing her lips.

as you emerged from your hiding place, she seized your hand.

“what do we do now?” you asked her.

gwen turned to you, a rebellious glint in her eye. “well, i’m over this prom thing,” she admitted as she pulled you closer, her hand releasing from yours to wrap her arm around your waist and hold you snugly against her side. “wanna get outta here?” she asked.

a smile played on your lips as you nodded in agreement. "yes, let's do it," you replied.

just as you both contemplate your next move, your phone vibrates, signaling a new message.

“don’t tell me it’s him,” she groaned as you nodded, confirming her suspicion.

she extended her hand, silently requesting your phone. "can i?" she asked, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

handing her your phone, you watched as gwen opened the camera app and positioned it in front of both of you. "smile!" she declared, capturing the moment with a click. the picture was you smiling as gwen held you jaw gently, planting a kiss on your cheek.

with the photo now saved on your phone, gwen's mischievous side took over. she swiftly navigated through your messages until she found harry's name. grinning devilishly, she selected his contact and attached the newly taken photo.

"just gonna let him know you won’t be coming back," gwen remarked, her voice full of wicked delight. without hesitation, she composed a short message to accompany the photo, her fingers dancing across the screen.

harry : (y/n) where did you go? you missing out sent at 8:53

you : hey harry, it’s gwen. she’s a little busy right now.

you : me and (y/n) are kinda over this prom night so we decided to do our own thing so i promise you we won’t be missing much. hope you enjoy the photo tho!! sent at 9:00

"there you go," gwen told you as she giggled to herself. "let's see how he likes that."

‘it feels good to be petty’ she thought, handing your phone back. the sky stretched out above, an expanse of darkness that seemed to swallow the world below. it was a canvas painted in shades of ebony and indigo, adorned with the twinkling jewels of distant stars. the rain had dampened her hair, causing it to cling to her forehead in an alluring fashion.

“so, my place? i have food,” she suggests, a smirk forming at the corners of her mouth.

you laughed at how casual it was. you two, ready to go to prom and dressed up, would now rather just go to her house and eat whatever leftovers she had to offer.

"wow, how fancy," you jested, your tone filled with playful sarcasm. "please, take me anywhere but here."

together, you left, leaving behind the glitz and glamor of prom and harry’s drama to finally have the night you and gwen deserved. as you stepped away from the whirlwind of glittering lights and laughter, you felt a wave of comfort wash over you in her presence. for just an instant, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders. although you had fully anticipated having the most miserable prom and an even worst summer, you were now fully content. you had gwen, and that was all you could ask her.

she was just glad she could steal you back faster than he took you.

A/N: it’s finally here….😽😽

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